Not because they kept him safe from pregnancy, nor a fear of ailment for that matter.
Because condoms let him take Angel in ways he could never imagine. Condoms kept them separate yet so close. Prevented Aki’s life force from being siphoned from his body. But honestly, it would be worth it.
Glove glad hands grilling Angel’s hip with the right and shoving his fingers into his out with the other. The fabric became soaked with Angel’s spit, his saliva seeping through the fabric onto Aki’s fingers. It made him feel like he was touching him, like really touching him.
Aki stretched Angel out as he filled him vehemently. A stretch that made all the bullshit work Angel had to do worth it. Because at the end of the day, Angel would be back here. Ravaged through layers, a blanket shielding Aki from Angel’s violent nature.
But all those thoughts are washed away as Aki’s ears are flooded with the sounds that flow from Angel’s mouth — A muffled cry, a gratuitous whine — muted by the fill of Aki’s gloved fingers.
Their eyes lock, no words are said.
‘Thank you’ a twinkle in Angel’s eye
‘I understand’ peers from Aki. A silent ‘I love you,’ they say
The sheets form a winged formation around Angel’s arched back, a quaint message as he gets to pretend to be human — for a while.
thank you ao3 for being an archive and not an algorithm. thank you for letting me like things without consequences, thank you for being free with no ads, thank you for having lawyers to defend our freedom of speech. thank you tag wranglers. thank you to all authors and thank you ao3
Contents - no use of y/n, jealousy, pining, praising, oral (fem rec), vaginal sex, pleasure dom Snake
Snake knew pining over Ketil’s daughter was nasty. But that’s just what he was. Downright, nasty. He knew it too, was proud of it even.
If you could describe him as one thing, it would be absolutely nasty. The way he snuck around with the female slaves and farmhands, saying he [mneeded to keep watch. You knew it wasn’t true, that he was just climbing his way into their beds — just to crawl into their neighbors the night after.
You thought it was cruel in all honesty, playing the role of a charmer, a good man who truly cared. But he’d just move on right after; a hit and run.
You also noticed the way he eyed you. During dinners when he was stationed nearby or invited to eat, when you were visiting your grandfather. It was shameless, haughty, taunting even! It made your skin crawl and would bring a pit to form in your stomach. His eyes looked at you teasingly, daring you to come into his bed; like how a siren lures a poor sailor into the sea.
You never gave in, ever. You wouldn’t even provide him a spiteful reaction, keeping cordial: goodmorning snakes, and my father would like to see you. A polite smile gracing your lips, nothing more nothing less. A reaction was the last thing that beast of a man deserved.
—
Once again, you’d found him loitering around the outside of your grandfather’s. But his face held a look of agitation, a frustration you’d never seen on him. He kept his feelings in, only showing what he wanted to show. And that was typically indulgence.
As you approached you heard the sound of dirt moving, tools digging into the supple soil from yards away.
Snake broke the silence, “That old man’s gonna kill himself, overexerting himself like this,” he growled.
“Well y’know he can’t stand to be still, especially when there’s work to be done,” you responded, your voice low, distant; like you weren’t fully there.
It was odd to speak to Snake in such a casual way. In front of your father his tongue was respectful while he defiled you with eyes. And in front of his men, oh, his provocative thoughts rolled off his tongue in a manner so casually it was honestly quite revolting.
It was your turn to break the silence, “I wouldn’t worry about him too much, he’ll be fine.” You reassured, why? You hadn’t a clue, you turned your gaze to the fields.
He chucked at that. Why the hell was he laughing at you? You turned your head towards him abruptly.
“I always knew you cared about me,” he wolfishly grinned at you — like he was going to eat you up.
You chose not to fall into his antics, your previous physical reaction being too much for your liking already. “I’m extremely great for all the work you and your soldiers do to keep everyone on the farm safe. I care for you all” Despite the spiteful nature of your statement, you truly did feel that way.
Since your father hired Snake and his lot, you hadn’t had any robberies or intrusions. You slept soundly at night knowing he-, they, were there.
Snake didn’t like the way you lumped him in with all his other soldiers. He wanted to be special, he’d admit it was quite childish honestly. But he wanted to be special to you. He wanted you to think of him separately from other men.
“Yeah yeah whatever,” he waved you off in a feigned nonchalance. He pretended like it didn’t bother him, but you knew — you always did. He hated it, the way you could pick him apart. He tried so hard to remain stoic around you, around everyone.
You were smart, and he liked that about you *when you weren’t using it to [his] disadvantage.* You scanned over him, taking in his appearance and demeanor.
“Snake?” You started. Your voice was weak, almost as if you had regretted calling out to him.
He glanced up at you, lips pursed in annoyance at his faltered persona. He hummed, “hm?”
“Who are you eating dinner with tonight?” You shot out of the blue.
“Oh I dunno,” he grinned at you coyly, “depends on why you wanna know?” He let out a bit of a snicker at the end of his sentence. He had won over you, at least for now.
Letting out a sigh, you began speaking, refusing to let him fluster you to the point of silence. “Because I-“ you cleared your throat, “I was going to invite you over for dinner.”
He glanced down at you, quirking his brow upward. “To the family house, dinner with your family?” He questioned you, “because, sweetheart, I’m welcome there whenever I want. I don’t need your permission.”
“No,” you interrupted his arrogant spiel, “I do have my own house you know?”
No, no he didn’t. He had no idea. This whole time, he thought you lived in your fathers home. That’s why he kept himself away, unable to commit the nasty acts that lived at the forefront of his mind while Ketil was around.
But that also brought up something else to Snake. Since he couldn’t go inside, he’d spend the lot of his free nights “guarding” the family home. In reality, he was making sure no one was sneaking in to see you.
But he’d been wrong the whole time! How many men, his men, had slipped into your sheets while he was guarding an empty post like a fool. He didn’t know, he had no idea. And oh he hated not knowing.
Hated how stupid he was, how he lacked control over the one thing that consumed his mind. But most of all, he hated much it bothered him. He hated how much he cared about who you saw, he hated how he wanted to be your only.
At night when he was alone, he’d dream about you, his mind would wander into his selfish desires. They’d wander into a cabin where you cooked him dinner, where he bent to your whims and took care of you, where you had two, sweet, little ones running around.
He snapped out of his trance, you were looking at him oddly, causing his face to flush slightly below his tanned skin. “Oh.” He said.
Oh?????? That was it? “What do you mean, ‘oh?’” What the hell is he talking about?
“Yeah I’ll come over.” He completely moved on from his previous odd behavior.
You looked at him blankly, you didn’t understand. You never understood [him], no matter how much you wanted to.
He walked off after that, silently. Not telling you what time he’s coming over, nothing. You furrowed your brows and stared at his back. His sculpted back muscles were visible, even under his shirt. His hair moved with each step he took. He walked in a way that exuded confidence in every aspect. You were entranced.
It took a few seconds of confusion for you to ground yourself. He had disappeared under the crux of the hill as he walked down the path. The sun shone down on the landscape, grass billowing as it cascaded down the hills and fields.
You figured it was maybe 16 o’clock, maybe a bit later. If Snake was coming over, you should probably get started on dinner.
—
Grandpa had given you some vegetables from his harvest, you’d both canned them together and stored them in your pantry. You wondered what Snake would like, then you wondered why you cared at all. To all of a sudden care about what Snake wants or likes. You think it was because he was worried about your grandfather. But you didn’t know, maybe you’d always liked him, maybe you always cared.
You chopped vegetables: carrots, potatoes. The metronomic sound of your knife hitting the board distracted you from questioning your own actions. You decided on making grandpa Sverkle’s recipe for stew, you’d have Snake bring him some after you ate. That’s what you told yourself, get some slack off your grandpa. Make him some food and alleviate him from also feeding Snake tonight.
The water you’d placed over the fire began to boil, bubbling and steaming over the heat beside you. You slid the diced vegetables into the water, the added volume causing the boiling to slow.
You stared into the pot, watching the vegetables cook. The sun began to set outside of your house, the yellow rays flooding through your window. At this point, you questioned if he’d even show. You figured you’d feel relieved at him being a no show, but all you felt was disappointment.
You put out the fire, letting the stew simmer over the residual heat. As the flames dwindled, your hope of his arrival fell with it.
—
A knock echoed off your door, snapping you out of your trance in an instant. You just stared at it, like the noise hadn’t fully registered to you.
“You gonna let me in or are you gonna feed me from under the door?” The voice was cocky, arrogant — you could hear the smirk in his tone. Snake
“Yeah yeah, I’m coming.” You opened the door. Despite knowing that he was on the other side, truly seeing him there, at your home, shocked you. The sun shone over his back as his large frame casted a shadow over you, swallowing you whole.
He didn’t wait for you to invite him in, taking your open door as enough of an invitation, and strutted right in. Despite your spacious entry area, it still felt as if Snake took up the entire room.
“Never knew you had your own place, quite secluded from the other places,” He grumbled as he crossed his arms. Snake glanced around the room suspiciously. It would be so easy for anyone to come in and out of here. He told himself that it was just a safety issue, but deep down he was jealous at the possibility of any other man making his way in here.
“Well I am an adult,” you side eyed him. “You’re getting old now y’know?” You joked with him lightly, a colloquial tone you’d never reserved for him before.
He looked at you, a slight pause, never seeing a casual side of you. “Hell no I’m not!” He inhaled the air, “That Sverkle’s stew?” He waltzed over to the pot, liquid simmering inside.
“Mhm, m’gonna have you bring him some after we eat.” You responded.
“Kicking me out so soon? Thought we were gonna have a fun evening together?” He spoke in a teasing voice, a voice so tantalizing you had to dig your fingernails into your palms to avoid it.
“And what gave you that impression?” You scrunched your face at him as you also approached the pot of stew, retrieving two bowls.
“Because you just invited me over for dinner for no reason.”
You spooned two portions of stew into the bowls, “am I not allowed to be nice now?” You placed the bowls next to each other on the table.
“Since when were you nice?” He sat down.
“I’ve always been nice, maybe just not to you,” you responded coyly.
You didn’t realize the affect your words had on him, he hated the idea of you acting all “nice” to other people. Fuck, he hated it. He wanted you to be nice for him. And god he would be [so nice] to you. He wanted to have you to himself so bad it hurt at this point.
“Food’s ready,” you sat down, leaving space between yours and Snake’s chair.
He sat down silently, shoveling gulps of stew into his mouth. He ate like a beast, an uncivilized creature.
You chastised him,”slow down, it’s not going anywhere.”
“It’s good,” that was all he said before he went back to eating once more.
You also ate, but at a normal pace. The silence was awkward, it made you uncomfortable. This wasn’t how you’d anticipated the evening to go.
You both finished after a silent meal, you stared down at your bowl. Your reflection stared back at you through the sheen in the ceramic. You noticed a pout on your face, an expression you were unaware of even making.
But Snake knew, he saw. His green eyes scanned over your face. Over your jaw line, to the apples of your cheeks where they stretched into folds of your ears. Your furrowed brows that arched over your eyes. Those pretty eyes. His gaze fell down to your lips, which you had corrected from your subconscious pout.
Heat burned up your neck and cheeks as you noticed Snake shamelessly checking out your face. “Something wrong?” You questioned, turning your head to look at him. You realized how close you two were as you finally looked at him. Snake down at you in a bit of amusement, the proximity not helping your flush.
“Can I not just admire a pretty woman?” He continued to stare at your lips, despite your scowl of disapproval.
“Don’t look at me like that..” you shied away from him.
“Why not?” His voice was a husky whisper, an alluring tone that made you lean back in on instinct. “I wanna look at you.”
He leaned in, the petals of his lips glided over the love of your ear. His warm breath fanned over your neck in a sensation that sent shivers down your spine. “Cause I really like looking at you.” His mouth was taut against your ear, you felt weak in that moment, finally, losing your restraint against him.
He silently brought his lips to your neck, right underneath your jaw, and began to pepper slow, sensual kisses. This gentleness was something you hadn’t expected from Snake. You anticipated him to be ravenous, greedy, and selfish. Now you understood why all those other women believed his false words of care.
He kissed you like you were the most virtuous thing in the world. Like an ore that promised riches and fortune, like the key that unlocked the gates of heaven.
He nipped at your neck, not enough to leave a mark. “What do you say we go over into your room, yeah?”
“I dunno Snake, is that a good idea?” Your voice had a whine to it, he’d left you in a state of weakness.
“Please sweet thing, I’ve wanted to have you for so long. Let me take care of you, you’ve been so good to me this evening.” He moved to kiss your lips, silencing you.
You placed your hands on his chest, his muscles flexing under your touch. You pulled back an inch, enough to get a word in.
He looked at you questioningly, wanting to pull you back in.
You had a look of contemplation on your face before you hesitantly spoke again. “Yeah-“ you took a breath, “yeah okay.” You nodded at him in consent.
He stood up and, before you got the chance to do the same, swept you up into his arms. He swung your legs over his forearm and cradled your back with his other. The back of your head pressed on his bicep. You’ve always known he was strong, seeing him throw two-hundred-fifty pound men over his shoulder after they pass out from training, but experiencing his brute strength yourself was another thing.
He kicked open the door to your bedroom, took one large stride in, and kicked the door shut. You kept the curtain closed in this room, and without having any lights on, you were suddenly left in darkness. Snake tossed you onto your bed without warning. You let out a yelp in surprise, in which he gave no response.
You heard his footsteps walk off before he lit the lamp by your door, then the one at your bedside. You sat on your bed, knees folded, the skirt of your dress pooling over your legs. The light illuminated him, casting a shadow over his features in a way that was unexplainably attractive to you.
He looked down at you, giving a look you’d never expect to see from a man like Snake. He didn’t look down at you like you were some object, or some piece of meat he was about to devour. He looked at you, while eager, like you were the most precious thing in the world. Like something he was going to savor for as long as you’d hold him in your arms.
“You’re a sight aren’t you?” He spoke lowly, hushed. In a way that said this is only for you.
You looked up at him, into those eyes that called you in. You gave him an airy chuckle, “I’m in the same thing I’ve been in all evening.”
“I know, but you weren’t looking at me like that all evening.” He responded.
You had no idea what he meant, you gave him a confused look, “like what?”
He crawled into your bed, kicking his boots off. He held himself over you with his arms, but you felt the weight of presence none the same. “Like you want to eat me.”
Snake leaned down, pressing his lips to your neck once more, in a dominant gentleness that sends waves down to your core. His greedy hands found your hips pulling you flush against him. He grunted in frustration as your dress prevented him from feeling you.
“Let me get this off,” he began to haphazardly pull at the ties on the back of your bodice. Not caring for why he was doing or the state of your dress. He loosened it enough to slip it over you. You heard the snap! of threads breaking as he pulled it off of you.
“Snake! What are you-“
You didn’t get to finish before his mouth was on yours. “ I’m sorry,” he apologized in between kisses. He slotted his hips between your legs, pressing his heat into yours. He groaned in response, the sound reverberating on your tongue. “I’ll buy you a new one,” he promised.
But now, you didn’t care about the dress; you just cared about having Snake’s body on yours. You experimentally put your hand at the nape of his neck, threading some of your fingers in his brown hair.
“That’s my girl, take what you want c’mon.” He began to move his hips: slow, sensual circles into you. “Fuck- I want it, I want you,” he groaned in your ear, his breath invading the canal.
He leaned off of you and began to remove his own clothes. He quickly disposed of his belt, then slid his pants down. He abandoned removing his shirt and still had his undergarments on.
But you weren’t having it, you wanted to see all of him. “Take this off,” you began to tug at the hem of his shirt.
Without question he threw it off, a grin glinting off his face as he discarded his shirt. He began to kiss down your body, feeling you up. His lips ghosted over your chest, tongue swiping over the swell at the bottom. His hands slid down your sides to your hips, tugging at the bands on your undergarment.
He suddenly pressed his face into the wet spot on your panties, kissing the fabric. You let out a surprised whimper, not expecting the contact.
His eyes rolled back into his head and his eyelids draped over them. He let out a guttural groan, “mm, take these off.”
He pulled your panties down and off and, without warning, licked into you. His lips encircled your clit, suctioning around it so he could press his tongue onto it. You fell back into your elbows, a wanton whine forced its way out of your throat.
“Give it to me come on,” he growled into you, sending vibrations through you.
“Oh my god Snake,” you threaded your fingers through the top of his hair, “please, I want you.”
“I gotta get you ready for me, be patient.” He slowly inserted his middle finger into you. And it was thick, long. He pressed his finger into the spongy spot that made you see stars.
“I’m gonna put two in okay?” He pressed his tongue flatly to your clit, moving it in up and down motions over the bud. You moaned in response, not giving him verbal confirmation. “I need you to use your words okay? I need you to tell me you want it, I need to know this is okay.”
“It’s okay Snake I want it please, please give it to me.” Your words were rushed, tumbling from your lips like you had no control.
“Oh good girl,” he slipped his pointer finger into you, stretching you out. “Don’t finish okay? I want you to finish around me, I don’t wanna over do you tonight okay?”
The way he talked, like he just wanted you to feel good, made you feel like you were the only girl in the world right now.
“Can I have you now, please Snake.” You tugged his head up and away from you.
“Yeah,” you looked up at you dreamily, his voice almost absent, “yeah.” He pulled his fingers out of you, you clenched at the emptiness. “You taste so sweet,” he loomed over you and licked his fingers clean of you.
You flushed, his perverted actions sending waves of pleasure into you. “You’re nasty,” you teasingly bit at him.
He lifted up your thigh, placing your leg around his waist. “I know,” he pulled off his own undergarments, showing himself to you. And he was big, bigger than you thought was possible for a man. You wondered if it’d even fit.
As if he read your mind, he reassured you. “It’s gonna fit, I’m gonna make it fit.” He bit his bottom lip as he lined himself up.
He pressed himself in, slowly, trying his best not to hurt you. You winced with pain, a burn in your lower stomach. The stretch was foreign and uncomfortable. His hips pressed flush with yours, all of him being snug inside of you.
“Tell me when I can move, I don’t wanna hurt you.” You instinctively clenched around him, causing him to groan. His head fell into the crook of your shoulder.
Your body adjusted to the invasion, becoming used to him being entirely pressed inside you. “You can move now, please.” You broke the silence.
Wordlessly, he began to thrust into you. His hips rolling like the waves of the ocean. He moaned into your ear, pressing his torso onto yours. He consumed you, body and mind.
You whimpered into the air with each thrust.
“Does it feel good, huh?” He pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear, then began to move his way down your neck. He sucked a hickey into your shoulder. You whimpered at the contact. He looked down satisfied as a mark began to form. The mark showing that he’d been there.
“Yes, yes yes yes yes yes,” your voice raised in volume. Your eyes rolled back into your head each time his hips pressed into the backs of your thighs. “You’re lucky we’re far from everyone else, you’re so loud for me.”
He pressed his forehead into the bed next to your face, “oh my god I’m close, I need you to finish.” He reached between your bodies to rub at your clit. His callous fingers rubbing teasing circles into you.
His sudden movements caused your body to jolt, the new stimulation bringing you over the edge, your body convulsing as you clenched around him.
“Oh my god,” he began to kiss you. He suddenly twitched as he released inside you, the warm sensation helping you ride out your orgasm. “Good girl,” he slowed his movement to a halt.
Snake pulled out of you as you sunk into your mattress. He stood up, looking for his clothes on the floor. You felt colder without him on you. The clarity hit you, he was probably going to leave. He was done with you now.
Snake grabbed his shirt before throwing it at you, “put this on so you won’t be cold.”
You look at him in confusion, “won’t you need this?”
“No? I’m not going anywhere,” he flopped back down onto the bed.
You wordlessly slipped his shirt over yourself. Snake pulled your body into his, draping his arms over you.
He pressed his lips into your forehead as you both drifted off into sleep.
The way I kept saying “garments” made me sound Mormon lmao
“A woman should know her place!” He constantly hissed at you. In the eyes of clan members and other sorcerers Naoya acted as if he was so tough. As if he had you on a leash whilst he barked commands and spewed insults at you. But — boy — he sure had a mouth on him. Not the same mouth that put on a front of dominance, but a mouth that begged for more, more from you.
At night he’d have his chest pressed to the bed and his hips in the air for you. He took what you gave him but always pleaded for more. His hole always sucking you in and when banded it clenched around the air as his cock leaked for some attention.
Now this was the Naoya you knew, the Naoya you loved. No one knew how his eyes would roll back into his head as you pulled on his pretty leather collar. Sometimes you think he purposefully riles you up in public just to get punished when you two get home. You think his happiest place is under your heel.
When you step on him, scolding him for being so raunchy and misogynistic in front of his colleagues. While you hurl insults and goad about how [bad he is, about how you’re going to have to punish him harshly]; his eyes grow hazy in anticipation as he gazes up at you.
He takes his clothes off at your command with no hesitation: his traditional robes discarded at your command and his body already preparing to be ruined. Bruises and bite marks kissed his thighs and chest from the last time you had to knock some sense into him - which was only a few days ago.
He takes what you give and more, but his sharp tongue was still present at the start. Despite his obedience he snarls variants of “hurry up bitch, this dick won’t suck itself!” But he knows that he won’t get any attention, at least not there. He knows that when he gets mouthy he’s gonna end up with his face in the pillow and his ass up for you to work with.
His heart drops when he sees you bring it over to the bed. That big strap on, the one that leaves him walking funny for days. The one that makes him have to come up with excuses with his brothers and fellow sorcerers. The one that makes him scream your name uncontrollably all night. That one was now being fasted to your hips.
He didn’t even notice you shedding your clothes, now you’re just clad in your underwear and bra. It’s the black set with lace that he bought for you for his birthday. It comes with a matching leather whip and collar, but he guesses you abandoned those for tonight. He can’t decide if he’s grateful or not.
“Naoya,” you coo, knocking him out of his trance. He knows that look in your eyes, when you talk to him so sweetly before you ruin him. It makes him shake in anticipation. “Take your boxers off, hurry up, c’mon.” He sheds them without thinking, his cock springing up to tap on his stomach. He was thick, and long; something most women would die to have inside them.
But tonight, it wasn’t going to get any attention. Not from you at least. Tonight he was going to get a taste of what it feels like to be demeaned, to be dominated. Tonight he wasn’t human, he wasn’t your husband — he was a hole that was going to be filled.
Your voice broke the silence, “bend over the bed, all fours.” He hesitated, the command coming suddenly. “Now,” you barked. He languidly moved onto his hands and knees looking back at you with a smug grin on his face. “You sure you don’t just wanna let me fuck you good, huh? You know it’s no good for you to do this. Doesn’t affect me at all, you’re just gonna tire yourself-“ He doesn’t get to finish because your palm strikes across his cheek. He instinctively brings his hand up to his face, the mark stinging.
Before he could bitch again you used his instability to push him down into the mattress. His face pillows the mattress while his hips sway in front of you. Your palm force is back into a nasty arch. Despite his bitchy attitude you couldn’t deny how good he looked. His face was handsome from sculpted features to the way he longingly gazed at you, begging to be put in his place. His body was toned from his work as a sorcerer. His ass was sculpted and muscular; perfect and round.
You guess he finally decided to shut his mouth as he made no protests at your actions. You smiled at his compliance as you reached for the lube on the night stand. “You gonna be good now? Hoping I’m gonna be easy on you?” You sneered demeaningly.
You poured the cold lube onto your fingers and began to rub it over his hole. He shivered and his body instinctively arched away from the sensation.
“Did I say you could move?” You barked at him and he slowly settled back into the position you had previously set him in.
His legs quivered ever so slightly, he put great amounts of effort into maintaining the composure and suave he had earlier that night. But in-between his legs he ached for you. His mind swimming with the outcomes of the night: all ending with him utterly fucked out of his mind.
You teasingly rubbed your middle finger over his taut ass as he puckered instinctively. He bit his bottom lip to contain a whimper that fought to leave his throat. “So now you wanna be quiet?” You smiled coyly at his expression. He huffed at you in response, a mix of be quiet and hurry up.
But you’d do anything besides what he wanted, continuing to faintly drag your finger over where he needed you most. Pushing the tip of your finger into him slightly only to pull just as quickly as it entered. A frustrated blush creeped from his cheeks to his neck. If looks could kill, Naoya would be standing over your dead body.
“If you want it say please,” you commanded the silent blonde. He snapped his head back to glare at you, “hell no! I’m not fuckin’ doing that.” But through his front of disgust you saw that longing look on his eyes. The look that tells you he wants to be taken care of and full of you.
“Then I guess this doesn’t feel good?” You pushed your middle finger into his ass, prodding at that spongy spot of his side wall. At that moment he was gone, giving up on pretending to hate this, to hate you. His eyes rolled back and he arched further into your touch. But just as he got lost in pleasure you pulled yourself from him.
A whine was pulled from his throat and he immediately began to back track on his previous complaints. He begged, “What the fuck! Why did you stop?” “I thought you didn’t want it?” You chastised him as he quivered beneath you. “No I do come on you can’t do that to me,” he grunted. “If you want it say please,” you reiterated.
He gave you a look of defeat as he finally submitted to your whims. “Please,” he whispered. You smiled widely at him, causing his face to flush, “like you mean it baby come on.” He pursed his lips before obeying you, “please, fuck me. I want it please, I need it.” His name fell from your lips in a plea that made your heart swell — slightly.
You, finally, fed into his whims. In an instant his head was shoved into the mattress and you lined the strap up with his hole. The anticipation could've killed him but all breath left his body as you suddenly slammed into him. He inched forward, eyes rolling back into his head. Moans and plead tumbled from his plush lips as you fucked him just right.
All that mouthing off, being disrespectful; it all led up to his true desire. To be stripped of basic decency and put in his place. Every inch of your strap rubbed that spot just right. The fullness was almost too much to handle, words were beyond him as he could only make incompetent babbles. “Har- harder!” He drooled.
Your hand slammed down onto his hip, a loud plap echoing throughout the bedroom. He whimpered at the contact, the sting running straight to his untouched cock that was leaking precum into a lewd puddle below him.
His body jumped at every thrust you gave him and he took it all in full. Naoya was now pliant in your touch — the misogynist from earlier was gone, all that was left was a needy bitch on the brink of climax.
He convulsed with pleasure, begging for release despite the roughness on him. Contrasting your previous behavior, you gently held his cheek and cooed into his ear, “finish for me, come on you can do it.” He tried to thank you, but all his words were gone.
The knot in his stomach, the hot tension that made him ache just right, snapped in an instant. He came, hard, painting the sheets underneath his stomach. His orgasm flooded his vision as you thrusting still. He rode out his organs while his thighs shook in weakness.
After the wave of pleasure faded, Naoya collapsed forward. His body laid in a pile of his own cum. And he slipped into unconsciousness with a smile, feeling utterly defiled.
ughhhhhh i wanna mommy him so badd society has failed this pretty boy for everything he’s worth !!! i wanna call him princess n fuck him like he’s a slutty little girl sorry guys
i think both nanami and choso would be into lace and slipdresses so something about it, like for readerxnanami it could be anniversary night:33
love your work!!<33
THANK YOU SMMMMMM
☆彡 nsfw below the cut <3
Choso [ lace, oral (f-rec), Dom-reader ]
Nanami [ slip dress, Dom-Nanami, vaginal sex ]
Choso would def be into lace lingerie,
surprising him with a matching set after a long day would send him into a coma. Ik he’d be so torn between tearing it off and keeping it on. Ultimately he’d just be good for you and be content to do whatever you ask of him. He’d let you pull his hair as you tease him, only letting him taste you through the lace bottoms. Whines would come from his throat before you quickly shut him up with threats of not letting him have you at all.
Nanami would be more into slip dresses,
he’d love the way it clings to your shape as you wear it through the house in the evening before being able to just pull it over your body as he bends you over the bed. The pretty fabric complimenting your skin tone as it’s bunched up around your waist. He’d pound into, gentle yet firm, hands on your hips as he has his way with you. Afterwards he’d just kiss you as he wipes you clean. Pulling the pretty satin over you once more as he holds you into sleep.
♪☆彡 Sneak Peak at Lamb chapter one, soon will be posted on AO3! Would love feedback on chapter length pleaseeeeeeee
‘You slept soundly, but as you slept you felt something warp over your body. Like someone was caressing your face, kissing your forehead, feeling your pulse and a greedy hand slipping over your chest.’
｡o○WC - 1722
Suggestive, fem reader, non-con, pastor Geto, age gap, grooming, time relevant misogyny and religious beliefs.
Your knees buckled as you carried the pale up the hill from the well. You used the toe of your shoe to open the front door. The heat from the stove top immediately warmed your skin. Early spring was still filled with the frost that bites at your nose and eye lashes.
Mama called your name from the kitchen, her voice echoed along the wooden walls of your home. You steadily made your way into the kitchen, careful to not spill any water onto the floor. “Ma’am?” You politely answered; you’d learned long ago that ‘Ma’am’ and ‘Sir’ were the only way to address adults, lest you want a palm across your face.
“Pour that water into the pot over the stove,” your mother pointed over to the pot as a cough ripped from her chest. She turned away from you, pride preventing her from showing her face of weakness, and dry heaved as she leaned over the counter.
Mama had always been sick, ever since you were a little girl. You were your family’s only child, a social pariah in your town. All the girls your age had no less than 7 siblings. People thought your family had some kind of curse, that your mother had some tie to darker things. You’d heard that up north women would get hung or burned for such speculations.
Tonight you were having beef stew, something you hadn’t had in a long time. Meat a luxury your family often wasn’t afforded. The new ‘rail road’ brought work into town, it paid more than your father’s old job in Mr. Townsend’s field.
You heard the men at church say the railroad would bring in more business to town. It excited some of them, the younger ones, they dreamed of fuller pockets. But the older men dreaded it, they despised the ways of the cities, said it’d bring in sin. But you never put much thought into it, you weren’t allowed to work anyway. You’d always been raised into being a wife, having a better life than your mother, marrying a better man than your father.
You poured the water into the pot, the smoke from the stove bringing a cough out of your lungs. Mama stared over at you in an instant, “get away from that smoke!” She snapped. You pulled away, the water beginning to bubble. It simmered, but was quickly squelched as your mother poured the vegetables and meat into the water.
The door roughly opened, Papa barged in, his face hardened from years of labor, brows furrowed in frustration. “Woman I told you to hurry up with dinner!” He scolded, “we got church soon and I don’t want none of y’all wearing rags to service!” His voice was scratchy, age taking its toll on him. He was about twice Mama’s age, a custom that terrified you.
He’s dressed in new clothes, the material made from something you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s nicer than anything you know your family can reasonably afford. Your mothers eyes harden over as she gazes on the product of his frivolous spending. Sure, you all had meat for dinner tonight, but tonight would be the last night for a while.
He barked your name, “you especially!” He pointed a nasty finger in your direction. “It’s ’bout time you got a husband. I’m sick of taking care of you.” ‘Taking care’ gave him more credit than he deserved. You knew he just wanted one less mouth to feed and maybe having grandchildren could save this family's reputation.
Dinner filled your stomach for the first time in a while. You were dismissed early, excused from evening chores in exchange for a prolonged time to get ready. Mama did your hair, making it look nice and neat. A faux display of elegance your family certainly did not possess. You wore the nice dress you haven't worn since your cousin's wedding last fall. It was a light blue, with a nice lace design around the neck line and sleeves. The bottom swayed as you walked. Your mother gave you her fancy flats to borrow. You recognized them as her wedding shoes, it felt wrong to wear them.
You all walked the path to the town’s church. It was a little, white, wooden building. Other people flooded the doors, people you didn’t talk to. Since you were little, mothers told their children not to talk you. That you came from a cursed family. A mother unable to bare life beyond yours and a father who thinks he’s larger than life itself.
It didn’t bother you, not anymore. You spent your time doing chores and secretly reading books. Girls in your town didn’t go to school; you were all raised to be wives not people. You’d heard that in the city, the women went to school and worked. That lifestyle was one you envied.
Papa pushed the church doors open, your family took a seat in the middle. You hadn’t been to church in a while. When people asked why, their faces covered in fake concern, Papa said Mama had been ill lately — that he had to take care of her as he’s such a good husband. But you knew that wasn’t true. Your father told you he had to work, and told Mama that she shouldn’t go to church without him. But you knew no holy place was open on Sundays, and that he forbade her to protect his minuscule reputation.
The pews were fuller than usual, everyone packing in to see the new preacher. You heard whispers about him. ‘He’s from the city!’ ‘Oh well I don’t like them city men, they don’t follow our ways.’ ‘I heard he was handsome, I wonder if he’s got a wife?’
They droned on until you tuned them out. Your dress was itchy and, in all honesty, you felt quite ridiculous. It was if you were wearing a costume. Your gaze shifted to your feet, fingers fiddling with your dress as it fell over your knees.
You heard footsteps in the front, everyone’s heads lifted, yours soon followed. There he was, the man everyone had been anticipating. His hair was long, his black coat flowing behind him. And his face was unlike any man’s you’d ever seen before. He was beautiful, his face lacked the wrinkles and frown that came from years of miserable work.
He seemed surreal, a presence that suffocated the room in a way that wasn’t unwelcome. His strong voice broke the silence, “I thank God for bringing me to this town in its time of need. I’m devastated by the loss this place had previously suffered but we need to look on the bright side because preacher Williams is preaching with the Angels in heaven!”
‘Amens’ echoed from around you. He was so confident, and spoke so clearly with vocabulary that was more eloquent than what the people around you used. He exuded intelligence and superiority. He continued his sermon, your attention caught the whole time. You could’ve sworn he looked directly at you a few times, but it was probably your imagination.
You were captivated, not even truly processing his message. Before you knew it, the service was done with. He began a prayer, you felt the hairs on your neck stand as you bowed your head. Was this how it felt to be in the presence of god? You felt something supernatural coursing through your bones. It was a connection to the divine you’d never experienced, something you’ve only gotten through him.
At the end he stood by the door, shaking the hand of every individual as they exited. You felt anticipation, suddenly fixing your outfit and hair. Wanting to look presentable for him. He shook your fathers hand, then your mothers, giving them both kind words and thanks and blessings. He got to you next, taking both your hands in his. His grip was strong yet gentle, his hands were soft, he looked you in your eyes. He looked at you like a person, something he hadn’t done with the other people walking past.
You felt like the only person in the room as he held your hand. He smiled, gave a promise of prayers, and thanked you for coming to service tonight. As you walked down the path with your parents, back to your home, you anticipated the next service.
You changed out of the blue dress, put away the flats. The moon shone on your back through your window. You shivered, it felt as if eyes were on you, maybe it was god? You slipped on a white night gown, the cotton draping over your figure. You did your nightly chores: cleaning the floors, dusting, washing the pot from dinner.
A presence loomed over you as you worked, but it didn’t frighten you. It made you feel safe and cared for, like a loving gaze ensuring your happiness and appreciation. The chores felt like a dance and before you knew it, you were done and it was time for bed.
You creaked open your bedroom door, cold air whirling over your skin. Had you left your window open? You didn't remember doing so, but a breeze blew through, billowing the curtain. You closed the window quickly, shivering with the cold air, your nipples involuntarily hardening due to the stark temperate change.
You sleepily crawled into bed, taking time to sneak reading in. This time, however, you picked the Bible due to influence from pastor Geto. The pages were gentle under your fingers, some words and phrases you didn’t understand, a possible excuse to speak to the man you admired.
After a while the lines blurred together and pages slipped from your fingers. Sleep took over you, slipping throughout your body as you melted into your sheets. You slept soundly, but as you slept you felt a feeling over your body. Like someone was caressing your face, kissing your forehead, and a greedy hand slipping over your breasts.
starting off with cool colors and ending with warm colors, not only signifying the passage of time, but also the new freedom from the burden of the clan… wow…
leaving changed, hurt, defeated, and yet somehow… better…
areudirty
jbbartram-illu
tangentwithtanner
germansingergirl
prguitarman
snowghoul
