He lets you speak first during arguments, lets you set the pace when you go out together. You even think it was your idea to move in. It makes you feel strong, clever and independent.
He watches you with soft eyes, nodding attentively, even when you're wrong. "Of course, baby. Whatever you say," he murmurs, kissing the crown of your head like you're his delicate little pet.
But behind that sweet, sleepy smile is a mind ten moves ahead. He suggested your favorite brand of shampoo before you even told him you liked it. He always texts just as you're thinking of him and when you bring up something private from weeks ago, he's already taken care of it.
You joke about him being psychic. He laughs along. You don’t know he’s reading your messages. Or that your friends don’t text you back because he made sure they wouldn’t.
You pace the apartment one night, annoyed about something— some minor thing he “forgot” and he just leans on the doorframe, amused. Watching you vent, eyes shining like you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen.
"I don't know why you're smiling" you snap.
"I just love seeing you like this." he says warmly. "So full of passion. It’s... adorable." You think you've won when he apologizes. When he lets you sleep on the couch and tucks a blanket over you gently, as if you're punishing him.
But he never minds losing battles. Because you never notice he's already won the war. He has your passwords, your schedule, your routine memorized.
He made you dependent, gently. A new job near his place. Friends who slowly faded. A social circle that always included him— always revolved around him.
And when you cry in his arms, convinced that he's the only one who truly understands you, he strokes your back and whispers, "I’m just lucky to have you." He means it.
You really believe this is your idea.
That you’re free.
That you chose him.
And he’ll never take that illusion away. Because chains are lighter when you don’t even know you’re wearing them.
You're laughing over iced coffees with your friend at a café one afternoon. He sits a few tables away, pretending to scroll through his phone, letting you have your space. Like the "trusting" boyfriend he is.
Your friend raises a brow. “So… everything’s still good with you two?”
You grin, leaning in like you're about to share a juicy secret.
“Good? Please. I’ve trained him.” You laugh, tossing your hair back. “He’s so soft for me. I tell him to jump, and he’s already mid-air. He does whatever i ask him to do.” You grin feeling proud and holding your head up high.
Your friend chuckles. “Damn. What’s your secret?”
You sip your drink with a smug smile. “Simple. I don’t let him control the narrative. I set the rules. Like, even in bed? He thinks he’s taking the lead, but he’s only doing what I let him. I’m totally in charge.” (Yeah right, totally)
Across the café, his fingers still on his phone, but his eyes—those sharp, amused eyes—lift to you. He doesn't call this stalking, he's just keeping an eye on you.. without your permission or notice.
He's watching. He hears every word and he smiles. Just that quiet, indulgent smirk, like he’s listening to a child playing pretend. Like he's watching you flit around in a pretty little cage you decorated yourself, flexing about it to your friend.
Big enough to feel like freedom, padded in soft illusions. A cage with your name on the door, because you wrote it there and forgot it was his idea.
He loves when you say things like this. Loves how passionately you believe them. That you think you tamed him. That you think you made him this way. That you're in "control".
He watches you giggle with your friend and leans back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the backrest.
Later that night, when you’re straddling him, teasing, whispering filthy things with that same cocky grin, he lets you take what you think you want. Lets you ride out your fantasy. He grips your hips just enough to make you feel powerful, while guiding every movement without you realizing.
Even if you're on top of him, he's the one moving your hips up and down. You just take it like he's helping you ride him, nothing more. He grips your neck and pulls your face closer to his, kissing you while you're moaning and whimpering.
"Look at you..being so good for me" He says while squeezing your neck gently. "Are your legs getting tired darling?"
"N...no.." You lift your hips up and down on his cock, panting softly. "I..I can keep going.." You struggle as pleasure takes over your body.
"Mm..I can see that." He rocks his hips up towards you to meet your thrusts. You throw your head back as he moves faster, trying to keep yourself in control and biting your lip hard to not scream. He puts both his hands on your hips, ramming you on him and coaxing you smoothly.
"You wanted this, I'm just helping you.. still following what you told me, love, nothing more."
When you collapse against his chest, breathless, he strokes your hair and murmurs, “You’re incredible. You did so well for me baby..”
He’s proud of you for playing the role of top so well. You drift off to sleep, curling in his arms, limbs tangled and lips parted in exhaustion, he watches you like a predator watching a bunny, trusting him so easily.
He feels like he's giving you freedom, letting you do and act how you want. Not out of mercy. Just to see how long you’ll run before you realize you're still in his jaws.
He plans to capture you completely. Soon enough. No need to rush, this is the thing with bunnies, it's necessary to be patient them. They get frightened so easily. It's better to lure them out and make them vulnerable first, to fully enjoy breaking them once they trust you.
You start watching for it.
The patterns. You begin to notice how you rarely choose your own meals anymore— how he always “suggests” something he knows you’ll enjoy before the waiter even arrives, so by the time the question is asked, it doesn’t feel like a choice at all.
You see how he’ll never forbid you from going out, but always gently encourages you to stay — offering small reasons, subtle guilt, the ghost of sadness in his smile that makes you feel selfish when you pull away.
“You’re free, love,” he always says. “I’d never want to trap or.. suffocate you.”
And yet, every decision you make feels like one he would’ve made anyway. Every deviation from his preferences tastes like disobedience.
Every act of defiance feels like betrayal.
One night, you bring it up while curled beside him on the couch, half-wrapped in a blanket, his hand absently stroking your hair.
The words spill out like a joke, too soft to be a challenge, too careful to sound like doubt. “Do you ever… want to force me to do things?”
There’s a pause.
You feel the air shift. His hand stills for a moment on your hair before continuing its gentle rhythm, and when he speaks, it’s in the same soothing voice he uses when you're trembling from nightmares.
“Force you?” he repeats, as though the idea is foreign — absurd.
You nod slowly. “You’re stronger than me. You could, if you wanted. I mean… you could pick me up and carry me anywhere. Make me do anything you want..” (Dont give him ideas 😟)
He says nothing at first. Then, without a word, he pulls away slightly, just enough to look down at you. Assessing.
“Yes,” he says at last. “I could.”
The admission hangs in the air between you like smoke. He shifts, and in one smooth motion, he brings you into his lap—not roughly, not with force, but with the kind of strength that doesn’t ask for permission because it doesn’t need to.
His hands settle on your hips, grounding you, holding you still. You feel the strength in his fingers–the unspoken potential for violence resting just beneath the surface.
You squeeze your thighs together feeling flustered at the sudden shift, even if he looks like he could snap you in two. You didn't want to like this at all, uhm, you don't! Ofcourse you don't, you couldn't, you're supposed to be in control here.
“I could drag you wherever I want,” he murmurs, pressing his lips softly to your jaw. “I could make you scream for me, cry, beg. I could break you down and build you back up in my image, and you know what, baby?”
His voice drops to a whisper, so tender it almost sounds like affection.
“You’d still thank me for it.” You tremble — not from fear, not exactly. Something elsw. A bone-deep understanding that the only reason you’re safe is because he allows you to be.
“Maybe I wouldn't be too forceful” he continues, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Because I don’t need to force you. That’s the beauty of it. I guide. I coax. I offer… suggestions.”
He smiles, and it’s not cruel— not overtly. But it’s dangerous, the kind of smile you’d see on a predator who doesn’t need to chase because it already knows its prey has nowhere to run.
“I let you feel powerful,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Because I love watching you think you’re free.”
And it clicks.
It slams into you like cold water, like the final piece of a puzzle you didn’t realize you’d been building. All the little choices you thought were yours.
The friends who drifted away. The routines that shifted. The diet changes, the wardrobe tweaks, the hobbies you abandoned and the ones you picked up— all of them traceable, in hindsight, to him.
You look into his eyes and realize he never needed to cage you because he built the world around you so carefully, so sweetly, that you decorated your own cage— and thanked him for making it.
And now?
Now, he just smiles as he holds you gently in his arms, stroking your head and back like you’re his precious pet.
And you are.
Because the cruelest part of all is that he doesn’t need to be cruel.
He’s already won.
(May this love find me, ughh intelligent ppl goddamn)
kaiser being an asshole and fucking ness’ cute little sister to punish him— he knows he has a soft spot for you
your writing is soooo good ily
𝜗𝜚 Hi anon! i'm so sorry i didn't get this out sooner 😭 i kinda had a writing slump like two paragraph's in and i came back to it recently and had a burst of motivation and made the most of it and finished it, thank sm for your request (it's actually my fav) <3
⸻ ミヒャエル・カイザ MICHEAL KAISER.
TW; smut (at the end), bimbo!baddie reader, kaiser being a little shit. w.c.0.7k.
and he'd be so mean and sly about it too :(
you just know him as your big brother's best friend. you didn't see him often, but sometimes he comes round to hang out. your sharing an apartment with your brother, his soccer salary enough for the rent and to spoil you twice over. you're a shy girl, so you tend to stay in your room for the most part when ness has his friends around. although, you would notice when ness had gotten into an argument, and you learned to stay out of his way when they occurred.
you could tell ness was pissed at kaiser for something over the phone, before he had gone out for the night with his other teammates. when the door opens at almost midnight on the dot, you think he's finally back. but when you're met with choppy blonde hair and electric cobalt eyes that seem to gaze at you more like prey than a human being, you shrink back a bit.
you're polite, it's not like kaiser hasn't crashed here before. but it's different without your brother here to entertain him. plus he looks irritated.
you retreat to your room, hoping to stay out of his way. but then he's knocking a handful of times on your door, (only the first time, the times after that he's just barging in) first its getting some of ness's clothes for him to wear, and then he needs fresh towels for his shower, then its–
oh, and now he's watching gilmore girls with you in your room. when was the michael kaiser interested in girl drama or gossip of any kind? oh, and he's in your bed, deeply comfortable and tucked in as if its his, he stands out between your fluffy pink duvet and stacked plushies with his thick biceps and his buff chest hidden by under his tank top–
anddddd he's caught you staring...wasn't like you were trying to be sneaky about it. he teases you until you're a stuttering mess and your neck and cheeks are heated enough to be their own human radiator. he makes a sly, heavily suggestive comment you don't remember, but all you remember saying is, 'alexis would never allow me to...do that...anyway...what's in it for me?'
kaiser grins, like the cat that's got the cream, before his lips brush your ear, his large hand cupping the space between where your neck and head connect, whispering something along the lines of, 'me, sweetheart. but that's what secrets are for, right?'
and that's how you're in your present position.
"you like it when i fuck you like this, hm? yeah you do."
you can barely respond with his dick so far in you you can feel it in your throat. :(
this ass up face down position has you completely fucking destroyed. your once flawless makeup smeared, fat tears streaming down your face, your false lashes lost somewhere in your fluffy sheets.
how many orgasms has he ripped from you–two, three? your to fucked out to count at this point, and your cunt clenches hard when you feel the familiar knot in your tummy. kaiser's whole form is pressed hotly against your bare back, his stray choppy hairs tickling your feverish skin. he breathlessly whispers and grunts degrading praises and sweet promises to you, ones that make your heart and clit flutter. you twitch and tremble terribly through your final orgasm, a loud whine–like cry ripping from your swollen, bitten lips. your body only able to melt into a puddle of euphoria on the mattress as you feel him pull out, his cum shooting thick, white ropes on your back.
you're kinda disappointed he didn't cum inside.
but at the end of it, the real entertainment for kaiser is when ness finally walks through the door at 01:53 AM, only to find you snuggled up in kaisers arms, knocked out, drooling on the crook of his neck as if he was your long term boyfriend. the tv's still playing an episode of gilmore girls in the background on low volume. kaiser smirks towards ness behind your head and the empty condom wrapper on the dresser is all that ness needs to know about what happened while he was gone.
well, he's definitely regretting giving kaiser the spare key.
You always wonder why, out of all the pretty and influential girls chasing after him, he chose you. It doesn't help how of a unit he is. Your typical perfect guy, popular, rich, and body that's comparable to a Greek God... and his voice— how you love his gentle and warm voice, there's just something about it that hypnotize you.
He always compliments you, shower you with affection, and be an absolute sweetheart. It gets you pissy. You don't know why you're always in a foul mood around him, he's not even doing anything that could trigger you. He takes a breath and you're already fuming. Grumbling profanities that he would laugh at wholeheartedly, like you didn't curse his entire being.
You hate how perfect he is. Hate how much you adore him. Hate how much you love him, and inside your mind you always question if he genuinely loves you. Maybe he's just playing with you? Waiting for the day he'd humiliate you, telling how you're too idiotic to even believe someone like him could ever love you.
That's probably why you're always cautious around him, you don't believe him enough to love an average girl like you.
***
He can't believe he's dating the cutest in the world. Everytime you scowl, show that adorable pout, he just wants to squish your cheeks together and kiss you plenty. Like a little kitty hissing when you sneer curses at him.
It's adorable really.
You'd say you didn't want to go to the movies he chose. Yet, you arrived earlier than expected, wearing a hint of makeup in that cute dress of yours. Makes him want to crush you. You put in the effort, took the time, even gave him the watch he'd been talking about—his favorite.
He really loves you. Really really loves you but why are you acting like he doesn't? He's confused. Hasn't he done enough to show you, tell how much he adores you? It makes him sad. Don't you know how much he's holding back? There's only so much he could take, you know. He could just take you everytime you run that cute foul mouth of you, shove his cock to make you shut up. But he's so patient with you because he loves you.
So don't push him too much, ok? Or else you might not like it when he finally show you his desire.
***
"You're late," you grumble, sending him a glare. Your arms are crossed, and your foot taps impatiently on the ground.
He chuckles, a soft, knowing smile playing on his lips. "I arrived just on time, sweetie," he says, stepping closer. "You're just too excited for our date, no?" His voice is teasing, but his eyes are warm, sparkling with affection.
You huff in response, but you can feel the corners of your mouth betraying you, tugging into a smile. He notices and takes your hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles.
"You're just so cute, you know? I really wanna crush— ow!" He hiss slightly as you swat his arm. He pouts a little, "You're strong, you're gonna leave a bruise."
You roll your eyes— as if that's gonna happen. Huffing you tug on his hand, "Let's go. I'm starving."
He smiles, looking at your back, "Ok, sweetie~."
Ah, you really are so cute.
He can't wait to fuck you.
***
"Why're you not eating, sweetie? Is the food not to your liking?"
Your appetite was gone the moment that waitress flirted with him, leaving you empty and bitter. This always happen. You're sick of it, sick of being jealous and feeling shitty for not looking like his girlfriend. Are you really worthless by his side? Do people not see you as his companion?
"Sweetie?"
You didn't want to lash out on him so you remained silent. Too bitter to talk. Even the food turned bitter, leaving you more upset.
He's such an idiot. But you're more of an idiot for being triggered by that stupid waitress, too much of a wuss to tell her he's taken, that he's yours. You're the idiot.
"I don't wanna eat anymore," you bitterly muttered, your face covered by the shadows of your hair, hiding that frown you wore he always seems to love on you.
He gets a sick twisted feeling in his guts, watching how jealous you get whenever some worthless wench tries to get his attention. It satisfies his urge, his sick thoughts hidden by his angelic face. You really love him, don't you? His lips curving into a sweet smile, eyes twinkling with desires. If only you know how much he gets off with you being jealous, you'd never doubted your pretty little self.
So… why are you saying such stupid things?
“Let’s break up.”
“Hm?”
“I said…” You take a breath, steadying your voice. “Let’s break up.”
For a moment, his smile wavers. Just a fraction. His right eye twitches ever so slightly, a crack in the carefully crafted mask he wears. But then, like a master of illusions, he recovers, his sweet facade sliding back into place, though something darker lingers beneath the surface.
“Now, now,” he says, his voice dripping with a saccharine softness that makes the hairs on your neck stand on end. “What’s the matter?” His tone is gentle, almost soothing, but there’s a sharp edge to it—a venomous undercurrent that cuts through the air.
You don’t answer immediately, your chest tightening under his unblinking stare. It’s as if he’s waiting, watching every little twitch of your expression, trying to peel you apart without lifting a finger.
“I just think…” you start, your voice faltering as his head tilts slightly, his smile remaining unnervingly intact. “I-I think we’re not… good for each other anymore.”
His smile widens, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, his gaze sharpens, a predator sizing up its prey. He takes a step closer, the air between you growing heavy. “Not good for each other?” he repeats, feigning confusion. “Sweetheart, where’s this nonsense coming from? Didn’t we promise forever?”
The sweetness in his tone sends a chill down your spine, but you hold your ground. “Forever shouldn’t feel like this,” you say, trying to steady your trembling hands.
It shouldn't make you feel bad about yourself, shouldn't make you anxious, shouldn't make feel... pressured.
For a moment, he says nothing, his eyes boring into yours. Then, his chuckle breaks the tension, soft and low. “Ah, I see,” he murmurs, leaning in just enough for you to feel the weight of his presence. “You’re upset. That’s all. We’ll talk this through, won’t we?”
But his words aren’t a question—they’re a command, wrapped in the guise of concern. And as his smile lingers, you realize leaving might not be as simple as you hoped.
***
Why is this happening?
You thought he would accept and move on.
"Mmm, that's it sweetie. Take it deeper." He coaxes, his grip on your hair tightening. He starts to push forward, forcing more of his thick length past your stretched lips.
So why?
Your eyes squeeze shut tighter as he pushes in deeper, your throat convulsing around his invading cock. He throws his head back with a guttural moan.
"That's a good girl. Mhm, your throat feels so good wrapped around my dick." He grunts, starting to set a steady pace. Fucking into your mouth, using your face like a cock sleeve.
It was gross. He never did that to you.
Lewd, wet sounds fill the office as he picks up speed, his heavy balls slapping against your chin with each rough thrust. Drool escapes the seal of your lips, dripping down your chin and onto your messed up clothes.
He looks down, taking in the debauched sight of you on your knees, choking on his cock. His dick is spit-shined and glistening, streaked with their drool. Shit. The sight makes him thrust harder, faster, chasing his pleasure.
"Look at me," He demands breathlessly, wanting to see the tears and desperation in their eyes as he uses their mouth ruthlessly. He's close, so fucking close already from the intense, vice-like grip of your inexperienced throat. He grunts and curses, slamming forward one last time before pulling out abruptly.
Thick ropes of cum paint your face and hair, marking you as his. Some of it even lands in your eyes, making them sting and water.
"You're so pretty... You look so pretty covered in my cum," he whispers lovingly, smearing the head of his cock across your messy face, pushing the hot seed into their skin like makeup. "The prettiest girl in the world."
You were supposed to break up with him...
How did it escalated to this?
***
It's not like he's losing a lot... you aren't that special. So why is he acting this way? There are a lot of better options for him, prettier, smarter, and richer girls. Someone who can actually match him, who doesn't embarrass him, worthier to stand beside him.
Why is he fucking you like his life depends on it?
Your eyes already hazy and unfocused, breathing hard as you couldn't count how many times you've already come.
One of his hands snakes up your trembling body, finding a soft breast. He squeezes the supple mound roughly, fingers sinking into the pliant flesh as he kneads and gropes. He finds a pert nipple and pinches it cruelly between his thumb and forefinger, rolling and tugging until it stands stiff and aching in the cool air of the room.
"Hm? Are you already tired? We're just starting," he coo, his hips slamming forward with renewed vigor. He leans down, his mouth finding your neck, sharp teeth sinking into the tender skin. He bites and sucks, determined to leave his mark on you, to claim you as his own. His. He can feel his orgasm building, his heavy balls tightening as he ruts into your abused cunt. The wet, obscene sounds of your coupling fill the room, punctuated by the creaking of the bed and your cries. He's close, so fucking close to filling your cunt with his seed.
"Gonna... hngh... fill this pussy..." He grunts between clenched teeth, slamming home one last time. His cock throbs and pulses as he starts to come, thick ropes of hot cum painting your inner walls. He grinds against them, making sure they take every last drop as he marks your womb with his essence.
Finally, with a last shuddering groan, he collapses on top of you, his softening cock still buried deep inside your tender, cream-filled pussy. He pants harshly against the shell of their ear, his hands still groping and fondling your sensitive body.
"Y-You're an idiot..." You sniffle, "Why me? There's a lot of—."
He cuts you off, "You know, I would never cheat on you, right?" He whispers tenderly, kissing your ears as if assuring. "No matter who comes to me, I would never pay attention to them. Never. You're the only one I want." His other hand comes up to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his intense, burning gaze.
It was the first time you ever heard his voice to be so... vulnerable.
"The only girl I want... So..." You can hear his voice shake, "Don't break up with me, ok?"
Your eyes glaze with tears, your heart tugging at his words. No, it wasn't supposed to end up like this. You made up your mind a few weeks ago, always nagging at the back of your mind. Ending your relationship would be the best for you two—.
He kisses you then, any doubts in your mind disappearing as his mouth claiming theirs in a brutal, dominating kiss. His tongue pushes past your lips, plundering the warm cavern as he grinds his hips forward, rubbing his throbbing erection against your thigh.
Ah, you don't care anymore.
"Don't think anymore, ok? Just let me do it for you."
He starts to rub the broad head of his cock along your slit, coating himself in your combined juices. "Tell you what, sweetheart. I'll be gentle like the usual... for now." He promises darkly, his voice rough with restrained lust. "I'll make this first part nice and slow, nice and easy for you."
"H-Huh?"
With that, he starts to push forward, the thick length of his cock slowly sinking into your tight, clutching heat. He has to fight the urge to slam forward, to bury himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. But he resists, forcing himself to go slowly, to savor the exquisite feeling of your walls stretching around him.
"Ah, you're still so tight." He grits out through clenched teeth, his fingers flexing against your hips as he fights for control. "Such a perfect cunt."
"Too soon! I'm still... s-sensitive!" You cried out but he starts to move then, his hips rocking in a slow, sensual rhythm as he fucks into you with deep, deliberate strokes. Each thrust pushes him a little deeper, a little harder, until he's finally buried to the hilt inside you. He pauses for a moment, letting you feel the heavy weight of him, the way he's stretching you impossibly full.
"Hehe, sorry can't help it. Does that feel gentle enough for you, sweetie?" He asks, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, yet his angelic face covers it. "Or do you need me to be even more... careful?" He punctuates the word with a sharp thrust of his hips, grinding his pelvis against your clit.
Your brain short circuit by the overstimulation, all you could think about was him, and his big cock, "A-Ah, you— ish... so good~!"
He snarls in feral pleasure as he feels your pussy clench and ripple around his pistoning cock. The way you are moaning and crying out, begging him not to stop... it's the headiest fucking thing he's ever heard. It makes him want to ruin you, to fuck you so hard and so deep that you'll never forget the feeling of his cock splitting you open.
You came in surprise, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, chest heaving, "C-Can't too much..!"
"You can do it," He growls, his voice a dark, distorted rumble. He can feel his own release building, his balls drawing up tight as he fucks into you with wild abandon, "A-ah~ clench this greedy cunt around my dick, dollface. Milk it for all it's worth.
You never saw this side of him before, a more vulgar side to him. Spouting dirty words that's the opposite of his facade. Maybe, you didn't know your boyfriend that well? He was always gentleman to you in bed, always going with your pace and being mindful about his words but now...
"N-No~ I really ah! Can't!" You shake your head frantically, having enough of the sensitivity.
"Yes, you can! You will, sweetie~!"
He buries his face in the crook of her neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin as he chases his pleasure. He wants to mark you, to leave his claim all over your body for everyone to see. He wants the whole world to know that you belong to him, that you're his to fuck and fill and love as he sees fit. The thought of another man putting his hand on you makes him mad, you're only his and he isn't afraid to take that way for you to be officially his.
"I'm gonna cum, sweetie." He grits out, his hips slamming forward with sharp, brutal thrusts. "I'm gonna pump this tight little pussy full of my seed, gonna breed this fucking cunt until it's dripping with my cum."
Breed?
He reaches down, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing mercilessly at the sensitive bundle of nerves. "I want to feel you cum on my cock, sweetheart. I want to feel you shake and quake as I fill you with my my child."
Wait...!
His other hand slides up, wrapping around your throat and squeezing lightly. It's enough to make you gasp for air, pulse jumping wildly beneath his touch. It's enough to make you even tighter, body instinctively clenching down around him as he fucks into you with short, vicious thrusts.
Too much!
"Now, sweetie~ cum. Now." He commands, his voice a dark and sinful. And with a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself balls deep inside her and starts to cum. His cock jerks and pulses as he paints your insides with thick ropes of his hot seed, filling you up just like he promised.
So full...
You gasp out, your skin flushed and damp with sweat. The room spins around you, his weight pressing you down into the mattress as you struggle to catch your breath. Body aches all over, especially between your legs. The feeling of his cum painting your insides is strange, unsettling.
Your vision having black spots, your consciousness fading as you hear him murmur promises to you.
"I'll take responsibility whether we have a child or not, we'll get married and have a cute child."
You feel a warm kiss on your forehead.
"I love you. I love you more than anyone else, I only love you."
thinkin’ abt toji’s bunnie gf that lies to him bc she doesn’t want him to be mad :(
your ears point down and your gaze lingers away from his, and he already knows his pretty baby is lying to him. but even after he knows, he likes watching you stutter over your own words, and creating fake scenarios on the spot when both you and him know never happened.
it’s almost comedic how your eyes visibly light up when you find something believable to say, just to be brought down with a condescending chuckle that leaves his lips.
“is that so?”
“mhm..”
“are you really telling the truth bunny? you know what happens when you lie, don’t you?”
“y-yes.. i..”
“you what?” your ear perks up at a sudden ‘clink,’ upon taking a look up, you see the man undoing his belt, slipping the leather rope out of the hooks of his denim pants.
“m-m tellin’ the truth..” your tail begins to flutter, a sign that you’re beginning to panic. he changes his hold on the belt so the ends are held in one hand, still a stoic expression spread across his face.
you can’t stand to look your lover in the eyes, knowing you’re lying directly to his face. after all he’s done to take care of you, pamper you, and love you, you still find it inside you to lie.. but it’s okay;
“look at me.”
you nervously peer up at the man, a slight shiver down your spine when his piercing cold eyes with a certain glint, stare directly back into yours.
“are you really telling your owner the truth?” he lifts your chin with a gentle finger,
and that’s when you begin to feel the tears weld in your eyes, your bottom lip quiver as you build the courage to reply to him.
“bunn-“
“m-m sorry..!” your arms flail out to wrap around his leg, small hands with a tight grip on his pants, as short tears fall down flushed cheeks.
“i-i lied ! i jus— didn’t wan’ you to get mad. pleasepleaseplease, d-don’t be angry, sir.. please—‘m sorry.!” you stammer in broken whines.
“there we go,” he whispers, followed with a grin. he brings his hand down to your head, short but sweet pets to your head and saddened ears.
“it’s okay bunny. i forgive you.”
“r-really..?” your head swiftly turns to his, eyes glossy, cheeks flushed, and your lips swollen with a slight shake. he groans at the sight, but says nothing to intrigue you.
“but..” his thumb runs over your cheek, using the same hand he holds his belt with,
Tw. Bimbo reader, dark content, noncon, dubcon, corruption kink, coercion, creampie, size kink, magic sex toy/onahole/fleshlight, loss of virginity, not proof read
***
Thinking about being a childhood friend of a yandere duo.
You were just so friendly and cute, approaching them with candies in your tiny hands and offering it to them. So kind as you always play with them, and sometimes they would argue who'd be your husband when playing house. They often fought whenever they wanted to play with you but in the end, it always results to sharing you.
Middle school was a little different than Kindergarten. They get more protective when boys try to get close to you, painting them as insufferable brats that only want clout. Being neighbors with the wealthy kids, got you too much attention much to their liking, often getting bullied whenever you finally have some alone time, but this didn't get unnoticed as you wonder why that kid who pushed you on your locker, suddenly have bandage wrapped around his head and his reputation down.
Highschool is where the shift started. You wanted to explore more, finding new friends, and hanging out with other people, and they did not like that. You were just too dumb, they said. Too dumb to realize people manipulating you so that they can get close to them. Do you even realize that the girl from your class only talks to you about them? Dumb girl.
Safe to say, you never had a genuine friend in high school, not like you even had chance to form a deep level of friendship (by people who genuinely wanna be friends with you) by the way they hog all your attention and time.
College is where it gets difficult for them to spend time with you. Different schedules, classes, course. They even insisted you go to the same university as them. It's frustrating how little time you spend together, always with your stupid excuse of "working on an assignment".
Without you around, they definitely have a hard time relieving some tension. They couldn't just walt into your room and steal some panties scoot free without getting into trouble, even though they were star students and had plenty influence over the school. No, no, they won't put their reputation to ruin, they're your perfect best friends.
Despite them being a duo, they were quite different in terms of personality. One is patient and mature, thinking logical and more on the rational side. While the other is playful, outgoing and rash. Both have their charms that got everyone around their fingers. However, they wouldn't sleep with just anyone, no. It's hard to get their dick hard, always imagining your cute face whenever they try to fuck a desperate bitch to finally release some tension.
But your impatient friend had enough of some random girl, high pitch moans that's not yours annoying his ears. It's miserable to even hump his own hand, so hard and cold, different to what he imagine your tight warm cunt to be. This just won't cut it. He needs more, to finally feel your wet insides without you knowing.
So what's a good way to relieve tension?
Some good ol' fleshlight.
The moment it arrived at his doorstep, he straight up bolted to his door. Slamming the door close as he finally gets his hands on the toy after days of waiting. Fuck, he can't wait to use this thing.
It's like the half body sex toy he used to watch in porns. He was quite impressed by the details it had, he gotta give props for that, but that's not what he's after for. After reading the instructions, more like skimming and skipping most of the words. He use lubricant, using plenty of it and spreading it around the artificial pussy lips. Rubbing and feeling the flaps, like how he usually does. It's kinda weird that he's doing this for a toy, but he could just imagine it being your cunt, practicing his moves. After a few moments did he slide his thick finger inside the walls of the toy... How weird, the texture was oddly real, like it was alive. Well, that's probably some mechanic shit that the factory put there or something. This is his first time using a fleshlight and it cost a fortune through some sketchy website so it better be worth it.
***
You jolted in your sit in class, listening to your professor's discussion about physics until you suddenly feel something brushing on your thighs. Your head panning around the room before looking ahead, brushing it off. It was probably the wind.
You yelp when something began rubbing your cunt, earning a few concern looks for you and your professor glancing at you before going back to his discussion. You shrink in your sit, head hanging low as you pressed your lips together. Confused and scared by the phantom touch assaulting your nether region. Clutching your skirt, you try to maintain confused whimpers as the touches didn't stop.
You're scared.
The moment something pushed inside you, you stand up and excuse yourself, running to the nearest restroom. Your feet quick as you open a random stall and sit on the toilet. Your breathing heavy as you shakily lifts your skirt, looking at the wet patch on your panty.
What's happening? Why are you wet? How can something touching you there? You're not imagining this, right?
Your mind raced as you become more terrified. Is a ghost haunting you? Tears pool on your eyes, sniffling as the assault become more aggressive.
***
Fuck, this fleshlight was the best thing he ever bought. How was this even made? Whatever. He continues to pump his thick finger, inserting another one and he jump a bit as he felt the walls suck on his fingers. Damn, it can even do that? Just how realistic can this toy be? He's not complaining though.
He decided to touch the clit earning another tight squeeze. What a sensitive toy. He continues to play, eventually adding another finger. It was weird how the warm walls didn't run out of lube, if this were any normal toy it'd need to be lubricated after few minutes but this toy seems to produce it on its on.
He pulls out his fingers as he inspects the inside, it's undeniable that it's fake but the way it pulsates around nothing makes it a bit questionable on how it works.
Would your cunt also look like that? He could imagine your wrecked heaving face after fingering you. Poor little you never had something inside, let alone this thick fingers. He couldn't wait for the moment he'll ruin you.
***
You're straight up crying as an additional thick sensation pumped your insides. Squeezing your thighs shut, like it's gonna do something to stop the phantom. Everything inside you screams to remove the intrusion but you didn't know how. Opening your legs slightly, your shaky fingers removing your panty to see what's happening inside your cunt... but nothing was there. Only a gape.
Your fingers shifts towards the gape, gasping as the invincible touch was able to touch you yet you couldn't even see or feel it. Squirming uncomfortably, as you open your legs more to try and get "it" out with your fingers. Uselessly grabbing air, whimpering and sobbing as you fail to interrupt with its continuous pumping. Your stomach twisting and an unfamiliar coil was starting to unravel, your breath hitching and legs shaking.
But it's abruptly stop as the phantom pulled away.
Finally, relief and a little bit of disappointment fills your chest. Slumping on the toilet, panting like you run a marathon. You shift a bit as you sit upright, freezing as something thick pokes your entrance.
No way...
Your brain panics, your gaze staring at the way your hole widens and your legs subconsciously spreading more to prepare yourself for the inevitable. You clutch the wall of the stall, each hand gripping the surface. Tears streaming down your face and your cheeks getting hot.
This can't be happening.
You felt the thick thing stretch you open.
***
Something about fucking a fleshlight should embarrass him. But nah, with you in his mind there's nothing to be ashamed. This is just practice to him after all, he'll do this things eventually.
With his heavy cock around his fingers, he taps the opening of the fleshlight. His other hand grips the hip. Rubbing along the slit, he collects lube running on the head of his cock, catching the clit in the process. He lets out a breath, as he finally starts pushing his cock inside.
He's quite big, so he's a bit worried if he'll fit in some shady toy but he's sure he'll fit in you just right, even if he had to force himself in your tiny cunt.
But there's no need for consideration when it comes to a toy.
He sheath inside in one thrust.
Hissing at the way the walls clings to him, tightly wrapping around his cock and pulsating as if rejecting a foreign object. Shit, why does it feel like a virgin?
Warm, wet, and tight. The perfect toy pussy for him, this could even rival a real pussy if he were being honest. No time for adjusting as he starts to thrust. Pounding the onahole, roughly gripping the hips and fucking hard. Shit shit shit why does this feel so good? This stupid toy feels a whole lot better compare to a random slut.
His hips going hard and the way he feels the inside pulsating, sucking all his worth making him groan. Such a tight fake cunt.
He wonder if he can break the toy.
***
With a silent scream, your head jerk up as the big stretch was too sudden for your body to take. Legs wide open as you try to create space for the large object. You sob as quiet as possible, as the phantom starts pounding hard at your sensitive cunt. You want to scream but held back, tears blurring your vision as you pray for it to end.
Whimpering and sobbing was the only thing you can do. Waiting for the thrusting to stop, you teeth bite your lip to stop noise from escaping. It doesn't sound like you at all, it's weird, you're scared and confused.
Your mind tries to think of a distraction, to think of anything but the mysterious assault. How is this even happening? What did you do to deserve this? Why you?
Your breath hitched as you feel the tight coil in your stomach again. Moaning a little as you feel pleasure rising though you. Your hands clasp over your mouth, muffling your noise. You shake your head as the coil gets tighter and tighter, your legs shaking as you stutter words of apology to whoever's doing this.
And it snaps.
Your vision going white, body stiffening and eyes going into the back of your head.
Ah. You never felt this... good before.
It takes you a few minutes to recover. Your limbs feel like jelly, your chest rising up and down in a slow manner, and you greedily gulp air.
You were tired and exhausted but you were glad the assault has stop after that. You groggily starts to lift you panty's up however you felt something dripping down your hole.
... you wonder what it was.
***
After that day, the mysterious phantom would touch you at random times, when you're showering, classes, or even in bed late at night. It was torturous, you were becoming paranoid and it didn't go unnoticed by one of your best friend.
He's helping you study in the library as you'd ask him for his guidance in physics. You would've asked your other friend, but you can just imagine him play with your hair or something along of not really helping you study.
You're breathe hitch as you feel the phantom ghost rubbing your cunt. Shrinking on your sit, uncomfortably rubbing your legs.
"Something bothering you?" He ask, looking a bit concern of your shiftiness.
"O-oh, it's nothing. Just a little tired lately," You reassured, smiling as you pretend to be fine.
His sharp gaze examined your face before dropping the subject, deciding to just help you study.
"If you need something to talk to. I'm right here, ok?"
You smiled forcefully, "I-I will... Thank you."
***
You could never bring yourself to tell someone about it. No one would ever believe you.
You're laying in bed waiting for the phantom, already memorizing the way it'll touch you. You brace for the touch as you can't help but feel helpless. Are you going to live like this your entire life? You don't want to...
But would someone be willing to listen to you? To believe you? You don't wanna bother your best friend, you knew how busy he's gotten the recent days and you're doubtful that he'll even listen to your story when he's the rational one. That means...
Your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion as you clutch your pillow and close your eyes. You're panting as the phantom starts its routine.
You're scared... You're scared that it's starting to feel good.
No. You don't want to be alone anymore on this.
You need help. Badly.
You shakily gets up from bed, putting some jacket on as you heads towards someone who can help you... At least you believe who will do.
***
"Oh? What's my little darling doing here at this late of night?" He grins as he opened the door with the sight of you.
You fidget with your jacket as you feel small under his gaze, "P-Please help me."
He raised his eyebrow, his grin replacing with a thin line. Yeah, he's playful but he'll never joke around when you're having a problem, "Come inside, we'll talk there, sweetie."
Sitting on his couch, you took a deep breath as you prepare to tell someone about this problem of yours. He won't make fun of you right? He won't be weirded out, right? He's a reliable person and your best friend.
He sits beside you, a serious and concerned expression on his face. It was rare to see him like this, which encourage you to finally tell him.
By the end, you were crying and hiccuping in your hands about the experiences you encounter with that phantom. Feeling his hand rub your back, cooing at you in comfort. He pulls your head to rest on his chest, telling you that everything's going to be fine.
You sob out a thank you, finding relief to finally get it out of your chest.
Unbeknownst to you, the man was smiling.
***
He didn't know if God was on his side. But, he didn't expect this would happen.
Who would've thought that the toy he was playing with was connected with cute lil you?
He didn't believe it at first but the way you described the timing was too much of a coincidence. Sweet little thing, don't worry you won't experience any scary thing from now on.
"Sweetie, do you want me to chase that scary invisible phantom away?" He cups your cheeks in his hands, locking gaze with you.
You sniffle before nodding, "Y-Yes, please..."
He gave you a toothy smile before gently pushing you down on his couch. His fingers swiping away your tears, "Listen to me, ok? I need you to trust me on this." His nose touching with yours as he leans close.
"O-ok... I trust you."
Dumb little girl.
You shouldn't have said that.
Now you've sealed your fate.
***
He wonders what was going on with you back when he helped you study in the library. Something was very off about you, and you were clearly uncomfortable to brought it up.
He thinks of you very often even when he's busy and swarmed with school works. Sometimes, getting frustrated to even continue and wants to just go to your place. He massages his aching temple, resting on his chair before a box caught his attention.
Oh yeah, that stupid guy gave him that a few weeks ago.
He recalls their conversation about it, saying that it'll help him release some stress. Well, he's plenty stressed now so why don't he test it out now?
He saunters to the box, sitting on the floor to unravel it. Only to be surprised by the object inside it.
An onahole...
If he was his usual self he would've flung this across the room and throw it to the garbage bin. But sometimes he needs to be relieve as well, plus he's a man too,
He's not that picky too.
This'll do for him.
A temporary replacement while thinking of your cunt.
ness goes stiff when separate arms grab him on each side. you and kaiser had been arguing since the first break of sunlight about who ness would be with today. kaiser had bent you over the couch at some point, but it still didn't change your stubborn mind.
ness can feel your tits purposely pressing up against his bicep, and he's sure his dick double jumped in his pants. a pretty, glossy pout adored your features as you stared up at him with those intentional doe-eyes he knows all too well. kaiser’s looming over him on his other side, he can feel the blonde man's hair tickling his face, his breath skinning ness's flushed cheek. kaiser holds that piercing stare that makes him shiver, as if silently uttering him to not disobey.
the tension in the air is palpable.
if he went with you, the most he would have to do is be your makeup tester and your bag carrier. he always gets embarrassed when you put makeup on him, teasingly calling him your girlfriend, but he secretly enjoys it. he knows you'll spoil him after too, like you always do. if he went with kaiser, he's sure he'd be doing hardcore drills in the rain until the late evening, and he's not looking forward to being yelled at every five minutes. plus, the most he'd get is a sloppy make out session and a loose hand job.
ness sighed drearily. "i did promise i'd go s-shopping. i'll find another time to do training..." his voice cracked slightly at kaiser's disappointed look and a raise of an eyebrow, but all he did was mutter a 'fine' under his breath, walking off.
he feels bad until feels your wet kiss on his cheek in victory and triumph, whispering how you're oh so proud of him for keeping his promise.
if he was feeling any kind of guilt at all before, its all gone now. not when you're slowly, oh so tantalisingly sinking on his achingly hard cock. your warm, sticky gummy walls fluttering as your pelvis brushes against his. his head falls back like a heavy weight on your pink fluffy sheets, the many shopping bags he had been carrying long scattered on the carpet floor.
"you've been such a good boy for me today," he heard you coo from above, your sweetly sinful tone making his cock twitch inside you.
tears prick his eyes as you unhurriedly bounced, the stimulation too much yet not enough at all. a whimper falls from his lips as you arched down to pepper and nip at his flushed neck, his hands tightening around your waist as you pressed a glossy kiss to the corner of his drooling lips, smiling wickedly at the mess you've made of him."my good boy."
ᝰ.ᐟ after having to endure locker room conversation since his blue lock days all the way up to his pro days, yukimiya realizes that if he wants to show you just how serious he is about his thoughts on his relationship with you, he needs to make his mark on you. ( fem!reader )
pairing kenyu yukimiya x reader
word count 3.6k
content contains corruption kink/innocence kink, loss of virginity (both you and yukki), first time, creampie, breeding kink, slightly manipulative!yukki, you two attended the same private catholic high school, mentions of purity culture, coercion, very naive reader, talks of marriage, dark(ish) content
kinktober masterlist
To love someone is to know them.
You love Kenyu Yukimiya with all your heart; you know his hopes and his dreams, his fears and the tiny voice in his head that serves to either goad or encourage him. The two of you grew up together, attending all the same Catholic private schools up ‘til he went pro fresh out of high school graduation, and you decided to attend a tiny, private all girls university.
You know that he’s kind and funny, much more outgoing and adventurous than you. You know that he can be gentle, and that he chooses to always be gentle with you. You know that he loves you just as much as you love him.
But while distance makes the heart grow fonder, perhaps it’s the distance that has caused this newfound unfamiliarity between the two of you.
“Kenny, I don’t… I don’t understand.” You’re lying down on your painfully small twin-sized mattress in your dorm room. Kenyu’s on top of you, his body hovering over your own. He gives you that familiar, comforting smile of his as he asks you gently (your Kenyu’s always so gentle with you),
“We love each other, don’t we?”
“Of course we do.” You say softly. Your arms are by your side, and you’re playing with the frills on the oversized comforter of your bed. Your whole entire room still screams girl. Yukimiya finds it endearing; he finds everything about you so damn endearing. Your floral quilts, and the stuffed animals he’s won for you from claw machines and unfairly rigged carnival games. Your fluffy comforter, and the way you always love to wear dresses, even when it’s just to attend a lecture.
And your unwavering innocence.
Everyone knows that Catholic private schools aren’t as pristine as the parents of the students like to claim it is, but you’re the only one who remained devout. The only one who genuinely stayed true to the lessons taught. You didn’t drink, you didn’t smoke, you didn’t sneak out. The only parties you attended were birthday parties chaperoned by a trusted adult and held in the early afternoon. You always followed the dress code and never tried to get away with folding the waistband of your school-issued skirt to make it shorter, like some of the other girls did. Hell, Kenyu had to literally ask your father for permission to date you before he asked you out.
And while Kenyu’s always been on his best behavior, it’s not like he’s unaware of the world. He’s not naive like you. And that’s okay. One of you has to know enough to lead the other; Yukimiya’s more than happy that he’s the one taking on that role.
The thing is, Kenyu truly does love you. It’s why he doesn’t rush you, doesn’t try to force you to go further than what you think you’re capable of, than what you think you’re allowed to go. He ignores the hard on he gets every time you two make out, the way your hips sometimes move on their own, grinding against him with no thought to strip out of your clothes and let him finish. You’ve been together since the first year of high school, and now you’re in college, and he’s playing professional soccer, and he loves you, and he still hasn’t even seen your pussy. Honestly, his closest friends tell him he must be a saint.
But the talks in the locker room, the snide comments from his least favorite teammates, the jokes and the teasing and the mocking, condescending tones — gotta protect Yukki’s ears, can’t let him Mr. Private School hear this, as if he’d even know what we’re talking about; damn virgin — all of it is chipping away at his pacifist, mild-mannered demeanor, revealing the feral, greedy egoist that lies underneath.
You had been so excited to hear your beloved boyfriend was flying down to your college town this weekend, just to see you! Your roommate’s out on a holiday with her parents, leaving the dorm room all to yourselves. In your cute mind, this just means more room for the two of you to hang out.
For Yukimiya, it means he has no more obstacles to get in the way of him fucking you for the first time.
“And you know what two people who love each other do, right?” He’s still using the same pacifying, soothing tone he always uses when he’s trying to calm you down. When you skinned your knees and cried from the sting of the alcohol wipes used to clean the cuts, he had used this voice on you. When you cried at the airport because he was leaving the country to meet the team who paid an exorbitant amount to have him on their starting lineup, he had used this voice on you. Right now, you can’t understand why he’s using this voice on you. You’re not hurt; just confused.
“Kenyu, wh-what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about making love, [Name].” One large palm is rubbing up and down the smooth skin of your thigh. The movement causes the thin fabric of your sundress to rise up. Yukimiya’s never touched you down there before. You don’t know why his touch feels so good, but you do understand what he’s talking about now.
“But Kenny—” Your voice is reduced to nothing more than a nervous whisper, almost as if you’re scared someone is listening in. “—we can’t. That’s for married couples.”
Well, if it’s any consolation, Yukimiya’s always planned on marrying you.
He kisses your forehead, his hand never relenting from its position on your thigh. Your dress remains lifted up at an angle on one side. He can see part of your cotton panties; plain and white. If he moves his fingers up a few more centimeters, he could tug at the waistband of them.
“I know, sweetheart. But I’ve been thinking…” His hand travels from up your thigh to rest on your hip. The one side of your dress is now all the way up, and his thumb rests on the thin waistband of your panties, rubbing reassuring circles to get you to remain calm underneath him. “We’ll get married soon, anyway, right? I love you so much that I need an outlet to show you just how much I love you.”
“Married? Soon?” Your eyes widen. You find yourself daydreaming about marrying Yukimiya, starting a family. Yukimiya’s smile stretches wide across his handsome face. His sweet girl, he knew you’d be putty in his hands after he mentioned that.
“Of course.” He kisses you on your lips sweetly, his hand never leaving your hip. “And I want to give you all the love a husband has for his wife. Won’t you let me, [Name]?”
Kenyu’s always been handsome. You have a collection of all his professional photoshoots, and you know that he has a bunch of fangirls from just his looks alone. It’s so unfair of him, really, to give you that imploring look of his. You can’t say no to Yukimiya, and you think you never want to.
And so you do let him.
Kenyu’s quick. With the speed he normally reserves for on the field, Kenyu’s mouth meets your at the same time his other hand grips your neglected hip. Now both of his hands are bunching up the fabric of your dress, pulling the skirt up to reveal your simple, plain panties.
“Mmph.” You moan into the kiss. This is a bit different than what you two normally engage in; somehow, everything feels a lot heavier, headier. You can’t seem to think straight. All you can focus on is chasing after his lips, matching his hungry pace.
The heat radiating off the two of you is enough for Kenyu to separate from you momentarily. The lens of his glasses are fogged up, and he grins at you, satisfied at the progress you’re making, before taking his glasses off and setting them neatly on your nightstand.
And then he’s back to kissing you passionately again. You’re lost in the pleasure of his kisses, unknowingly bucking your hips up, not knowing why your body is craving friction, for some attention, down there. Your hands reach up to grip the front of Kenyu’s shirt, tugging at him, trying to bring him closer. You’re getting desperate, and he finds it so cute.
“Lift your arms up for me, sweetheart.” He mumbles against your lips, and your head’s too hazy for you to properly register his request. He repeats it, still as gentle as ever with you, and this time, you manage to comply.
“Fuck.” You don’t hear Kenyu curse often; he says it’s impolite to do so in front of his girl. He breathes out the word, and you feel shy all of a sudden as his eyes roam over your body. He tossed your dress to the side unceremoniously, and because the dress itself had padding, you decided not to wear a bra. You’re laying on your bed, nothing to protect your modesty besides your cotton panties.
“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. The only girl I see.” He praises you, and you don’t feel too shy anymore.
“K-Kenyu—” You look up at him, all doe-eyed and sweet. You’re pressing your thighs together, drawing his attention to the plush of your thighs, the way hiding in between your legs is your special place that only Kenyu will be allowed to see, to touch, to taste, to love. “What do we do now?”
He leans down, whispering in your ear in his familiar, kind voice, “Now, you lay down, and let me show you how much I love you.”
You love Kenyu so much, you think it should be impossible for your heart to have so much room for him. You know Kenyu must feel the same way, but never before has his love for you ever felt so overwhelming. Kenyu pries your thighs apart, forcing you to open your legs for him, but you didn’t know showering you in his love meant that he was going to take his fingers and rub against the mound in your underwear.
“W-wait, Kenny!” You yelp, trying to shut your legs, but he’s too big, too strong. He blocks the movement, keeps you nice and spread for him. “I—” You don’t know what to tell him, and you don’t know how to explain why there’s a tiny puddle gathering in the thin fabric of your panties. Sometimes, you feel funny and this starts to happen, usually after a long makeout session with your boyfriend.
“You’re so wet for me, [Name].” He almost sounds in awe, staring down at your covered pussy almost as if in a trance. The pace he’s using is rather slow; he’s content, for now, with just stroking his fingers up and down your covered slit, fascinated with the way he can watch you slowly drench through the cotton. The wet spot only continues to grow; he bets he can get his fingers damp with your arousal soon, and he wouldn’t even have to take your panties off to do so. “Do you always get this wet for me?”
You want to cry, and you can even feel the tears welling up in your eyes. He looks up, instantly stopping his ministrations, his concern written all over his expression. “Hey, hey.” He shushes you, peppering kisses all over your face. He’s not stroking you anymore, but his large hand is cupping your pussy, the heat of his hand encasing your special place. You’re practically throbbing against him, your cunt aching and hungry for his touch. He just has to get you to open up for him, to understand. “There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re supposed to get wet right here for me, you know that?”
You sniffle, unsure if he’s just placating you. “Really?”
“Really.” His smile is so gentle, his tone so soothing and reassuring. He’s back to grazing his knuckles across your cunt, enjoying the way the fabric keeps on getting damper. “It means your body is happy, and it lets me know that you love me as much as I love you.”
His other starts to tug at your waistband, dragging down your panties until he’s pulling them right off. His breath catches in his throat as he looks down and stares at your pussy for the first time. Your folds are glistening, your little clit peeking out at him, begging for him to suck on, to rub against.
“Cute.” He tells you, tracing a finger curiously against your slit, the tip of his index finger so close to entering your clenching, unbreached hole. “I’m going to make you feel really good now, okay, [Name]? Tell me, have you ever played with yourself down here?”
“Wha-?” You’re confused, appropriately so. The boys and girls were separated during sex education, but you remember your teacher drilling it into your heads that under no circumstances should a young girl ever touch herself. You had been confused at the time, confused as to why anyone would ever. You’ve been taught that only your husband should ever touch you right there. But Yukimiya loves you, and he’s going to be your husband, and now you’re starting to think you know why girls may want to touch themselves. You’ve felt this heat in between your thighs before, this mysterious hunger for something, but now you’re feeling it tenfold. You shake your head, too choked up to speak.
“No? Not even like this?” You don’t expect Kenyu to insert his finger. The intrusion is foreign, but not entirely unwelcome. Your walls instinctively clench around his digit, and he has to remind himself to breathe, to remain collected, to take things slow so you can enjoy yourself properly. “You’re clamping down on just one finger.” He breathes out, curling his finger, moving it against your walls. He brushes against a spongy spot inside of you, one that has you jerking up, a shocked, pleasured moan escaping from your parted lips. “That feel good?” He asks, before adding a second finger, both of them bumping against that same sweet spot.
Your legs feel like jelly, and you nod weakly. It does feel good. Too good. So overwhelmingly good that a foreign, euphoric sensation is taking over you. You can’t seem to control your body, and you can’t stop the flow of cute, pleasured mewls flowing from your mouth, and you manage to scream out a warning to Yuki. “S-something is—”
A clear stream of liquid spurts out of you, splashes onto him, soaks your cute comforter.
“Fuck, you’re amazing.” Your walls are too sensitive now, but throughout the whole process, Yukimiya never stops thrusting his fingers in and out of your inexperienced cunt. His eyes are wide, but the gleam in them is sharp, hungry, calculating. “I didn’t even get a chance to mess with your cute little clit. You came just from penetration?” He finally removes his fingers, examining the way your juices are dripping off his digits. “You didn’t just cum, you squirted.”
You turn your head, trying to bury your face in a pillow so he can’t see the embarrassed and debauched expression on your face, but he takes his dry hand and forces you to continue looking up at him.
“That’s a good thing, sweetheart.” He coos, sucking at his fingers obscenely before releasing them from his mouth with a pop!. “It means you’re perfect and all ready for me.”
Kenyu knows that his cock is the first cock you’ve ever seen, and he’ll make damn certain that it’s the only one you’ll be seeing for the rest of your life. There’s no frame of reference for you to use, but you don’t think that men should be so big. When he frees his dick, making a show of squeezing tightly at the base and pumping it, showing off to you, you swallow hard.
He taps the head of his cock against your swollen, needy clit, teasing the both of you. He’s losing all sense of restraint, and even rubbing the underside of his cock against your glistening folds, trying to slick up his cock so it’ll be easier to glide into your soaked cunt, is enough to make him want to cum.
“I’m going to fuck you now, sweetheart.” His voice sounds strained, the gentle tone hanging on by a thread. “We’ll be making love for the first time. Aren’t you excited?”
You nod. Excited and nervous. His cock much larger than his fingers, and maybe he should have prepped you more, but you came so easily. He always knew you were perfect for him. Pleasure is so unknown to you, the tiniest taste of it is enough to take you out. Perfect, perfect, perfect.
He holds your hand and kisses you to distract you from the sting of his cock breaching your virgin cunt. You gasp into the kiss, pain registering in your mind first, but Yukimiya is quick to take your breath away, to swallow up any potential protests that might have come. He keeps on kissing you, his fingers intertwined with your own, and he’s pushing himself as deep as he can go. He only lets up from the kiss the second he’s buried to the hilt, and you greedily swallow up the oxygen you’ve been deprived of.
The feeling of a hard cock inside of you is foreign, but your body clings to his length. Unlike his fingers, with its dexterous ministrations that had you keening and squirting when he brushed them against a special spot, his cock fills you up, stuffs you full. Your cunt is greedily sucking him in, and when he whispers that he’s going to really start moving now, it’s not just one spot that he’s hitting.
You’re not sure what’s happening to your body, but it feels like Yukimiya is wringing out pleasure from you from every angle inside of you.
“Ah, fuck, you feel so good for me, sweetheart. Such a tight pussy, so wet, so warm.” The heat encasing his cock is nothing like he’s ever experienced before. The wet warmth of your pussy is so inviting, so intensely pleasurable, that Kenyu doesn’t think he’ll be able to last. Cumming so soon might be embarrassing, but it’s not. Not when it’s his sweet girl’s pussy that’s begging for his cum.
You wail out his name, your legs reflexively encircling around his waist, locking him in, keeping him close to you as you cum again. This orgasm is practically ripped out from you, your cunt way too sensitive, the repeated battering of his cock drilling into your hole too much for your inexperienced mind and body to handle.
“Kenyu, Kenyu, Kenyu!” When you say his name like that, it makes it hard for him to not immediately bust a load inside of you. Gone is the gentle expression from your boyfriend’s face; in its place is something feral, dark.
When he pulls out, he sees your white cream coating his cock. When he thrusts back in, he hears the lewd squelch of your wet, overstuffed pussy. It’s enough to drive a man insane with lust.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He grunts out, and your head struggles to remain straight, to not loll to the side and let yourself be used. You look up at him, but your eyes are glassy and your mind seems to be in a far away place, so far gone, so fucked out. “We’re going to get married soon. So it’s okay if I get you pregnant right now, right?” His bare cock fucking your virgin pussy raw. He’s going crazy. “I’m gonna fill you up, get you all nice and bred for me. Make you my wife, make you a mommy.”
The domestic daydream makes you tighten up around him, even though your body is too weak to cum again. That’s alright. He’ll just have to cum enough for the both of you.
“Hang onto me, sweetheart.” And you do. Your legs are still wrapped around him, but you weakly raise your arms, holding him close to you. He starts pounding at your pussy, his unrivaled speed and strength turning you into mush. You have to dig your nails into the muscled skin of his back, feeling like you’re on the edge of a cliff, about to crash.
“Fuck, I’m about to put a baby in you, love. My sweet girl, my sweet wife.” He kisses you, messy and sloppy, and he stills. The aggressive thrusts stop, and you realize why.
There’s a new heat entering inside of you; hot spurts of his cum are pouring into you, and he only moves his hips a bit to plug you up further, to make sure none of his seed can trickle out of you.
You’re about to lose consciousness, your brain fried from pleasure and exhaustion. All you do is weakly mumble out his name before the world goes black.
You think if this is what making love is, you love love.
“Holy shit, Yukki.” Isagi gapes at his shirtless teammate.
Yukimiya glances up, about to pull his jersey over his head. “What?”
“What the hell happened to you?”
“Hm?” He asks, before turning to try to examine his back. Across the pale muscles are thin, red scratches, fading slightly from the time it’s been etched onto his skin by your nails. He smiles serenely, his mild-mannered attitude ever present. “Oh, this? My fiancee likes me close to her at all times.”
