he thought he would never be interested in fucking you since he was constantly busy with mikey. why would he need a whore to distract him when he’s got a gang to help run?
throws all of that out the window when you sit on his lap for the first time. maybe he could be distracted for a few minutes just for this.
and god is he hooked when he sees how you cream around his fellow members’ cocks when you think you’re not being watched. he can almost imagine your whimpers of their name being for him as he stuffs you full from behind — your poor little pussy sore from the stretch.
but once he finally fucks you? he’s selfish. he finds any and every excuse to touch you at any given time. if he’s lounging on the couch, he needs to have you in his lap stroking his pretty pink hair. if he’s just finished beating the shit out of some bastard, he needs you giving him head to relax him.
he might just have to keep you in his room.
ᨳ - 𝐊𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐎
was super hesitant about sleeping with you.
if his “friends” were fucking you, why were you crawling to him to get your pussy stuffed? it didn’t make any sense.
took him a while to finally give into your begging but once he did he was shamefully obsessed. he’ll never touch you first but will drop hints to let you know that he wants you. at first, he’ll clear his throat to get your attention and hopefully you’ll notice what he’s trying to convey. if that doesn’t work, he’s lightly rubbing your thighs as you’re perched in his lap.
prefers to be intimate in the privacy of his bedroom but if you tease him too much he’ll drag you into the first empty room he can find and fuck you dumb.
he’s so sweet and gentle … until he’s not.
ᨳ - 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔
acts cold and uninterested to your face but in reality he’s pussy-whipped.
calls you a slut in front of the guys, saying things like “who wants a bitch that’s already been stretched out by everybody?”
him. he’s the one who wants you.
once you’re in between the four walls of his room or alone together in his car, he’s fucking you like a bitch in heat. he’s drooling over your tits, moaning into your neck, and gripping whatever flesh he can to keep himself from finishing early.
he’s a complete sucker for aftercare, too. after he creams your insides, you have to hold him close and stroke his hair while he’s nuzzled into your chest. becomes an absolute softie when you praise how good he did.
asshole in the streets, simp in the sheets.
ᨳ - 𝐑𝐀𝐍
unlike his brother, he has no shame in letting everyone in earshot know he loves fucking you. from the moment he knew you existed, he was using that famous haitani charisma to woo you into his bed. sweet lavender eyes and a sooting voice masked the filthy scenes going through his imagination.
loves to take you to roppongi’s best clubs and show you off to anyone possible. of course, you’ll be wearing the skimpiest outfits you can find in your closet. why go out with ran if you weren’t gonna show off all your assets?
likes to tease you with his baton every now and then. he lifts up your skirt and prods your panty-covered cunt with the tip of the weapon — you’re always soaked. he finds it cute when you whine all teary-eyed saying he’s embarrassing you. something about the tears dripping down your face makes his pants a little tighter.
maybe you’ll cry more when he makes you fuck yourself with his baton.
ᨳ - 𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐈
sugar daddy without the title.
spoils you to absolute death with all of his gifts and affection. every single outfit, piece of jewelry, and pair of shoes is in your closet thanks to koko. his motto is “pretty girls should have pretty things” and you couldn’t agree more!
super big softie. adores hand holding, soft sex, long hugs — you name it. his favorite thing, though, is cuddling.
honestly, he likes to cuddle anywhere in the base — especially if others can see. the sight is usually met with glares from his fellow kanto manji members. it strokes his ego well to know that they see how comfortable you are with him.
they may fuck your lights out from time to time, but you’ll always come crawling back to your daddy for his love.
ᨳ - 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐀
mean, mean, MEAN.
your poor heart can’t take how cruel he is to you. he’s always laughing when you cry, lifting up your skirt when he walks past, or softly yanking your hair to see you tear up. like ran, he enjoys seeing your tear-soaked face after his relentless teasing.
he knows when he takes it too far, though. when you’ve hit your limit, he’ll squish your wet cheeks together with his tattooed hands and make you look at him. brings you in for a kiss softer than you could ever expect from hanma.
you’ll always forgive him after he makes you cum three or four times while his head is tucked between your legs. eats you out until you’re dizzy and begging for him to stop. gives you another kiss even with your juices still dripping down his chin.
but the next day, his sadistic routine will start again.
ᨳ - 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍
big nasty pervert for you.
the first day he heard you were in the base, he was looking for you. you weren’t there but two hours before he was groping every inch of your body.
fondling your tits, smacking your ass, and smothering himself with your thighs are among his favorite daily activities. having a woman accessible to him 24/7? that was his dream come true.
sleeping in your panties is a big no-no. if your pussy is covered, how can he fuck you while you nap? you’re the kanto manji gang’s whore — you needed to be ready for them all day, every day. loves to slip his cock in you from behind and rut his hips into your ass. who cares if he cums early? you won’t be awake to care.
even if you did, he’d stuff you with more.
ᨳ - 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐘
is overall disinterested in what his members do with you on the daily.
he’s too engrossed in his responsibilities as the head of a gang to have time to enjoy their honorary whore. prefers to watch from a distance both what and who you do.
but when his men fight over who gets to have you? that’s when he needs to remind them who gave you to them in the first place. he’s the only reason they get to enjoy you — because mikey allowed it.
fucks you hard and deep on the mahogany meeting table — his men forced to watch how you moan their leader’s name while you take him to the hilt. they’re dead silent as the watch the lewd scene in front of them. what can they say? one word and mikey would put them six feet underground.
when he’s done filling your pussy with his seed, he makes you cockwarm him for a few hours afterward. since his men want to disrupt the peace, none of them will be allowed to touch you for a week.
you know what's sexy? a genuine man that's consistent. always showing up for you. genuinely wanting you in his space. dominant but soft for you at the appropriate times. invests in your mental health, and a man that never stops dating you
Since Senju and Izana are the only two wearing red at the wedding, I feel like they had a moment when they first saw each other where they subtly nodded like "nice colour choice"
Summary: You kept hearing people dread how your boyfriend is making everyone’s life miserable and pissing them off. Usually, you would ignore it since you can’t control his actions but when you overheard some Kantou Manji members saying how he might get kicked out of the gang for his actions when you were on your way to pick up your little sister it shook something in you. The only thing Shion is obsessed over other than himself is you, and his love for a good fight. So with his actions leading him to get kicked out, you couldn’t let that slide. Besides, he’s the one that pays for your shopping spree with the money he earns from his gang life…
Word: 3,754
Content Warning: teasing, riding/cowgirl, oral (giving), hand job, face sitting, rough fucking, breeding, choking, overstimulation, 69 position, jealousy kinda, and pervert! Manjiro (Mikey) Sano
୨⎯ fem!reader. smut. wc: 2k. minors do not interact. mikey's friends helps you plan out a beach day and forces mikey to show up. mikey thinks he's being a pervert. but in actuality reader is doing it on purpose.
“I’m not wearing that.” Mikey deadpans at the coral print shorts Sanzu is holding up currently. It’s bad enough that Mikey is being forced to stop his work and come out to the fucking beach—now his stupid colleagues are trying to dress him up too.
“It’s cute though!” Sanzu protests.
“You wear it then.” Mikey deadpans, then looks at the big hand that’s just been placed on his shoulder.
Ran smacks the coral shorts from Sanzu’s hands and tosses it to the ground; earning a hard earned scowl from the pink haired male himself. “Put that childish shit away” Ran somehow magically pulls out a tiny speedo from what Manjiro thinks is thin air and hands it gently to Mikey, as if it’s some sacred artifact. “Here, bless the guests with this.”
“You’re both ridiculous. I’m staying in this, and that's that.”
‘This’ consisted of a simple black tank top and matching long black shorts. It was a plain fit, compared to all his friends who’d decided to come shirtless, but Mikey didn’t mind.
He liked plain.
Besides, it’s not like he had anybody to impress. It was just him and his frien—
“You’re finally here! God, we thought you’d never come.”
There’s no way. There’s absolutely no way. Mikey looks up at Ran who refuses to make eye contact; instead, opting on waving you and your friends over.
The sound of footsteps gets louder and before you collide into Mikey, arms wrapping around his body as you hug him from behind. “It’s nice to see you outside finally.” You speak into the back of his shirt, oblivious to the blush creeping up on his face from the close proximity.
“Yeah…” Everything stands still for Mikey, even his lungs—refusing to take another breath until you’re at least a couple miles away from him.
Your best friend, Maki, moves past the two of you, straight into the boot of Koko’s car. She tugs the back of Rindou’s shirt, pulling him back towards her, close enough for a whisper. “Did you…bring the stuff?” She asks, looking at the booth, highly disappointed in the contents.
It’s just a blue cooler, filled with ice and water and popsicles. Nothing amazing. Rindou smiles down at her, the look on his face has her grinning also as she watches him reach into his pocket, pulling out a packet of brownies.
“Ooh!” Maki reaches out for it only for Rindou to pull back just as fast, lifting it over his head.
“You’re insane if you think they’re getting in your hands.”
“Wha-why?! I asked for them!”
Mikey drowns out the rest of their conversation and tries his hardest not to focus on the sight of you, standing unnervingly close to him, the bare skin on your arms rubbing against his own, and he suddenly regrets wearing a tank top.
“Are you excited?” You turn to face him with a smile on your face as you walk over to grab the big cooler from the boot of the car. The others have already started to make their way into the beach, leaving just you and Manjiro alone together.
Mikey can’t help but think it’s a little weird that they’ve suddenly just “disappeared” into the distance. Sanzu most definitely would’ve waited for Mikey to walk in first, but he shoved that thought aside and subtly takes the cooler from your hands, seeing as you were struggling with it.
“Thanks Mikey,” you grab onto his shoulder and squeeze it, gently, giving him your best smile.
He ignores the way his heart stutters at the action and your smile. “Yeah, no problem.” It’s astonishing just how easily he lifts the cooler the long distance from the car to the empty beach spot.
“Whys it so empty?” Sanzu complains at the lack of people, only a family in the distance, watching their kid cautiously as he picks shells from the ocean.
“Probably because it’s Sunday.” Koko responds, taking out his sunglasses. “Now, nobody talk to me. I want to tan.”
“I wanna get a tan too.” Maki slips off her shirt revealing her bikini underneath. She flops down next to Koko and pushes him to get more room on the thin blanket Koko brought.
“Okay, well, I gotta go.” Ran comments, giving you a look that Mikey cannot decipher. You nod your head and start looking through your purse, smiling when you bring out sunscreen.
“Mikey, can you help me out this on?” You blink at him, holding the blue bottle out in front of him. Mikey is about to protest, telling you to ask someone else to help you but Ran is dragging the others away to some random part of the empty beach. Mikey turns to face Koko who simply shakes his head at him, lifting a hand to tell him no.
“Well?”
Mikey makes the mistake of looking into your eyes once more, seeing the pure desperation it holds as you wiggle the bottle in front of you. “Okay, fine.”
“Thanks Mikey!” You contemplate giving him a kiss on the cheek, but realise that might be a little too far. You sit down on the sand, a hand darting out to wrap around Mikey’s wrist, pulling him down to the ground with you.
You remain staring at him the entire time he opens the bottle and squirts some sunscreen on his hands, rubbing his palms together before lifting your arm up to gentle rub the lotion into your skin.
It’s the second time today he’s made the mistake of staring at your face, how you don’t take your eyes off him the entire time. He looks down to see the sunscreen has completely dissolved, the white colour now disappearing and leaving your arm back to its original tone.
You don’t hesitate lifting your other arm up for him to do the same.
This isn’t that bad. Mikey thinks. He thought it would’ve been way worse.
Oh, how wrong he was.
You turn around, unbuttoning your t-shirt and toss it next to you, then turn around and back yourself way too close for comfort. The curve of your ass rubbing against his shorts as you peek over your shoulder and politely ask him to rub your back.
Mikey swallows.
Like actually gulps.
He eyes the skin on your back, only a thin laced strap connecting the bikini top—only that flimsy material stopping himself from seeing your body.
He doesn’t respond, instead gets to work, grabbing more sunscreen and rubbing it against his fingers.
Your back arches from the coldness of the sunscreen, but the warmth from his hands plus the scorching sun warms your back up in no time. He makes quick work, rubbing the lotion across your bare back, slipping his fingers through the strap of your bikini top to get that area too.
Once he reaches your shoulders, you tilt your head to the side slightly to give him easier access before letting out a soft sigh. “Your hands feel so good, Manjiro.”
“They do?”
“Yeah.”
Mikey doesn’t respond to that. He doesn’t know what to respond. So he stays silent. You initially frown and look over to your friend who shrugs, not knowing what to do either.
It’s so hard to win Manjiro‘s heart. You’ve been trying for almost two years and he either ignores all your advances, or is too oblivious to them.
“All done.” Mikey lifts his hands off your shoulders and you smile at him before looking around, thinking of Plan B. He watches you scramble over to the cooler a couple feet away from you, and tries to keep his eyes anywhere but your body. (Your bikini is currently sticking to your ass, leaving one cheek completely exposed).
His eyes widen once he realises it, looking up at the sky instead, or maybe the ocean looks better? But from the corner of his eye, he can see you kneel as you scour through the cooler, grabbing a popsicle.
Two popsicles, actually.
You grab a strawberry one for you, an orange one for him. You crawl your way back to where he is, eagerly handing him the sweet treat.
“Thanks…” He takes it from you but doesn’t open it. You, on the other hand, eagerly unwrap it and lay down on your back, exposing your body to the sun.
It’s probably not ideal to eat laying down. But you don’t care. You’re getting desperate at this point.
“Koko, how’s life going?” You ask, unwrapping the popsicle and taking slow licks from bottom to top. You can feel his eyes on yours—well, on your tongue, flattening it out as you take even slower licks, sucking on the top every time you reach it.
Mikey completely drowns out the conversation between you, Maki and Kokonoi. Instead, he watches with intense focus as your lips wrap around the tip, pushing the popsicle further down your throat.
No normal person eats a popsicle like this.
Right?
No one tries to literally deep throat it. Mikey is confused, but he doesn’t question it, instead tried to not focus on his cock twitching through his shorts.
Fuck, look somewhere else. It’s hard, but he finally rips his eyes away from you, instead, scanning the beach for signs of his friends.
On the far end of the beach, Ran and his brother are teaching some kid how to build a sand castle whilst Sanzu kicks it, causing the kid to cry after a couple moments.
Idiots. Mikey thinks, bringing his gaze back over to the people around him. Maki stands up and stretches, mumbling something before running over to stop Sanzu from breaking that kids heart.
Koko sighs, following after her.
Now it’s just you two.
You turn and face him, popsicle still in your mouth, before you take it out, very slowly. Slow enough for Mikey to see the leftover juice stain your lips red. You lick at your lips, trying to remove it all before you notice the melted popsicle in Mikey’s hand.
“You didn’t eat it! Now it’s melted.” You complain, pointing at the treat.
Mikey simply lifts it up, and shrugs. “Oh.”
“You can have mine, if you want.” You hold yours out to him and Mikey looks at you, wondering if this is some sick joke. You’re looking at him, dead serious, as you hand it to him.
He holds it up for a while, not breaking eye contact with you, and the popsicle starts to dribble red down his arm. “Oh, fuck.” Mikey hands you back the popsicle and is about to wipe the juice from his arm before you hold it out and stop him.
He wonders what you’re doing, eyes blowing out of his skull when he sees your tongue dart out, licking a long stripe from bottom to top, stopping at his index finger, waiting a couple moments before releasing your mouth from the tip.
Neither of you say anything, or do anything.
It’s silent as Mikey takes a second to just process what the fuck.
“Okay—fuck, come here.” He wipes his hands on his shorts, grabs your hips and pushes you onto his lap. You giggle into the kiss, hands cupping his face as you moan softly into his mouth when his hands slide down from your hips down to your ass.
“Finally.” You mutter into his lips, breaking the brief makeout to sloppily kiss along the column of his throat. You can feel his Adam’s apple twitch as he swallows, a shaky exhale leaving his lips as his hands come up to your hair to grab at it.
“How long were you acting oblivious?” You mumble against his skin, sliding your hands up and down his chest before slipping them under his shirt to feel him.
“I wasn’t—fuck—acting—” He groans when you rub his cock through his shorts and bite at the skin on his neck at the same time.
“Sure you were.” You giggle, making him swallow once more because your lips tickle and vibrate against his skin.
You push him down onto the ground, successfully straddling him as you grind your hips down against his hard cock. You lean down once more, taking his lips in a heated kiss.
It’s not until a loud car honks by the car park that you break the kiss, to look up. A bunch of cars have now pulled up, now the beach will be full.
“Great.” You sigh, getting off his lap. “Maybe next time?” You brush the hair away from his face, leaning down once more to kiss at his lips before pulling away.
♡ ྀ =͟͟͞♡ The Gang Wants To Fuck Shion’s Slut of a girlfriend
Pairings ♡ ྀ =͟͟͞♡ : Kantou Manji Gang x Bimbo! Fem reader
Warnings ♡ ྀ =͟͟͞♡: Smut, exhibition, voyeurism, gangbang, spitting in mouth and other areas, chubby reader hints, doggy style, mating press, fucking in vehicles and other places, alternative Timeskip where kmg is two years in, unprotected and protected sex involved, cheater reader, double penetration, tit job, rough fucking, passionate fucking, breeding, small daddy kink on Koko’s part, Shion is a himbo to your Bimbo,overall nasty shit really
Word Count ♡ ྀ =͟͟͞♡: 3.0k
18+ Allowed
( so mad I can’t put my taglist opportunity no more so if you want to join to say it and it’s my first HC too so heads up!)
jjK Version Aot Version
⋆.ೃ࿔* Shion: Before the meeting, on the table
“ Is it- Mmgh fuck- okay to be doing this in here? Shion we could get caught.”, You moaned as you held him around the neck tightly while rocking your hips back and forth. His long pale fingers were digging into the plush of your ass under the fabric of your skirt you gladly wore for him, he hissed when you squeezed around his cock, “ Yeah, baby, I promise. It’s only you and me here at the headquarters to-aah do that againnn- day.”
He couldn’t even finish the sentence because you were bouncing your ass up and down while sucking on his long tattooed neck. You spoke too soon when someone clears their throat, “ Gotta say Shion, I always knew she was gorgeous, why don’t you share her with me? With us? Hmm.”
You froze but it didn’t last for long because of shion twirling his hips while digging into you like a caveman who haven’t had pussy in forever. His moans were louder now and you knew he was close so you milked him in the best way possible. You couldn’t stop fucking him as you yanked on his mullet. You didn’t care who was watching and who heard you.
Warning: Passionate sex, lots of cum, cockwarming, pussy eating, mentions of reader getting pregnant, first time, aftercare, nicknames such as babygirl, my beloved and such will be used.
A/N: To my followers here, I am so sorry for not posting omg, just finished our school year and this week was filled with too many dramas and events for me to be able to write smuts again but I'M BACK‼️The gif reminds me of Shion, Idk why, but I hope you guys like this one, I legit still can't get over Tenjiku arc.
Shion seems like a bad boy, he is. Considering how he's a part of Tenjiku and one of the Four heavenly kings at that. But y'know, when you started dating him, you would've expected to get an abusive boyfriend. One that would beat you up and often go to clubs to fuck other women while you watch them, but things were not what you expected and you were glad it wasn't. Shion was the damn opposite of abusive, greedy, and disgusting. He was heavenly, kind, sweet and considerate. Like how he knows you just finished your finals exam today so he took the extra time, skipping his Tenjiku meeting just to help you relax. Even though you rejected his offer and insisted to let him go back to his meeting, he was also stubborn. One of his bad yet good qualities with you. And since you were the kind girlfriend you are, you couldn't say no to your handsome boyfriend.And that's what led you here, on your bed, legs spread and his head in between. His tongue was lapping and sucking on all the juices your pussy would release. This was heaven for you and it was also for him. Your back arched as you grip the sheets underneath you.
"S-Shion.. s'too good.."
You moan out, your voice almost whimpering and cracking due to how intense he ate you out.
"Baby.. keep moaning for me like that.. moan my fucking name, baby.."
Shion spoke lowly, his voice was deep and seductive yet muffled due to being in between your legs
"M'gonna cum, Shion.. oh my god.."
Once you said that he immediately stopped. He pushed himself away from your dripping pussy that was now clenching on air and he stood up from kneeling while you whimpered frustratedly
"Shion.. why.."
You croak out in a small voice, he chuckles and looks at you with list and hunger as he unbuckles his pants and removes his boxers, springing free his hard cock that was already dripping with precum. His cock seemed very enticing, it was big, really big, 8 inch and built like a damn coke can, he had a set of properly trimmed hairy balls that made it all the more sexier. The veins popped out of it and you can see it twitching
"Like what you see, Babygirl..?"
He gave a smug look, chuckling as he pulls you to the edge of the bed, your lower body dangling as he holds your thighs to keep you steady
"Mm, Shion, I.. wait.."
You told him to wait for a moment, he does so and raises his left eyebrow slightly
"Scared, baby?"
"No.. I'm not.. It's just.. I'm.. a virgin.. and this is going to be my first time so please.."
"i know, my beloved, I got you, I'll be nice and gentle hm? You just relax, m'kay?"
Shion asked so nicely that even though you were scared you felt slightly more at ease now. You knew he wasn't going to go nice and gentle, well, not until you finally beg him to go hard and fast. Shion hovered over you, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hands grip your hip to keep you balance and steady. He looks you in the eyes and smiles softly, he finally aligns himself with your entrance, slowly pushing in.He was so big, just the tip already felt like you were full, you whined, sharply gasping as you scratch his back due to the pain.
"It hurts, shion.."
Shion showers you with small affectionate kisses on your neck and face to distract you from the pain
"Shh... It's okay, just relax.."
He continues to shower you with kisses as he finally pushes his whole length in you. You gasp softly at the feeling of your pussy being full of him
"S-so.. f-fucking tight, baby.. relax.."
Shion groaned at how tightly you clenced around his cock, he started moving, a slow pace to help you adjust to him. You could feel your gummy walls clenching around him, you could feel every vein on his dick as he thrusts slowly and gently. He continues his slow pace for a few minutes till you finally tap him two times on his bare chest and he finally moves faster.You moan louder as he starts pounding into you, his cock reaching spots you never knew were even there, your head leans back on the pillow and your eyes also roll back, your hands gripping his arms tightly as he continues pounding your wet pussy"Shion... Gonna cum.. please let me cum.."You felt your stomach tie into a knot as you felt your orgasm near, he groaned and spoke with a growl"Cum on my cock, baby, I'm about to cum too.."He growls as he lifts your legs up his shoulders and into a mating press, you moan loudly at the new feeling as you felt him go deeper than last time if it were even possible.
"B-baby.. let me cum inside, hm? Let me get you pregnant, baby.. wanna see you with my babies."
You were fucked out at this point. You could hear him but could barely manage to let out a response so you nod eagerly, only letting out moans of 'yes please and mhm, yes, just like that.'
As you nod, Shion groans loudly and thrusts sloppily yet faster as he feels you come undone around his cock and he stops and finally cums inside you, his seed spilling inside your womb as you both pant heavily
"I love you, my sweet girl.."
"I love you too, Shion.."
And as you both say your declaration of love to each other, he carries you to the middle of the bed, he lays himself and lets you sleep on his chest. He gives one last kiss on your forehead before he also closes his eyes, embracing you contentedly
Merry Christmas, I Could Care Less | Step Brother!Oliver Aiku (18+)
Happy holidays, from the world's worst older brother <3
a/n: I just couldn't stay away from The Worst Guy You Know I fear. have some absolute debauchery for the festive season, on me, as a treat. this is a little timeskip set in the world of my other fic. not proofread. this is dark content smut. minors dni.
w/c: 5.5k (behaved myself this time)
c/w: f!reader, stepcest/pseudocest, slight dubcon??, alcohol consumption, slight dacryphilia??, piv sex, oliver covers readers mouth, finger sucking, oliver manhandles the reader a bit, unprotected sex, creampie, as always if you spot something you think needs tagging, let me know <3
Don't come home for Christmas
You're the last thing I want to see
Underneath the tree
Merry Christmas, I could care less
divider by me, song inspo was Yule Shoot Your Eye Out by Fall Out Boy! part of the @enchantedforest-network
Ah, Christmas.
Who doesn't love obligatory “quality” family time. You moved out of home three years ago now, but always returned to your father and stepmother’s home for all the major holidays. The house has changed a lot in the three years thanks to your parents' empty nest, your father's promotion, and a few other things.
Standing here now, at your father's annual Christmas party, the house almost feels alien. Lavishly decorated top to bottom in what is definitely the most ostentatious fashion, the place looks gorgeous. The air smells like cinnamon and cloves as you enter, many well dressed business men and their families smile politely at you, wishing you a happy holidays, or making small talk, how was your final year of college, if you're seeing anyone, the usual, as you make your way to the kitchen, towards your parents.
You weren't seeing anyone, and you think most of them know that. You haven't dated anyone that lasted long enough to introduce to your parents, much to their dismay. “You're getting older, you know!” You recall your father saying. Funny, you think, considering you aren’t even the eldest, yet he seems to be immune from such expectations.
He’s even immune from being here for the holidays, you haven’t even seen him since you left the house. He favours being abroad, which meant you had to show up, to be the one who deals with the parental questions, the nosiness, the expectations.
In a way, you were glad for that. It was consistent, you came, acted the good daughter, and left as soon as you possibly could, and didn’t have to deal with him, either. It was nice, predictable, and stable.
The kitchen was less populated than other spaces of the house, though a few groups were still mingling about. You overhear conversations you vaguely understand from the bits of knowledge you’ve gained from your father, finances, end of year figures, nothing you care enough about. You scan the room in search of your parents, and suddenly, the room grows smaller.
Across the kitchen, a familiar figure looms over everyone else. Shaggy dark hair, with shades of bright green breaking out at the bottom, your step brother Oliver stands with a glass of red wine in his hand, chatting to a young woman in a dress that seems a little short for a fancy Christmas party like this. You feel your knees grow unsteady beneath you.
Three years. It’s been three years since you last saw him. But it still feels like yesterday in many ways, the night you sat in his arms in his room, sobbing into his chest after he told you he’d been scouted by an Italian soccer team, and would be moving there in a few months, leaving you behind. “You knew this couldn’t last forever, baby.”
You did, of course you did. It didn’t make losing your first love, who happened to be your goddamn stepbrother, any easier. It didn’t help that Oliver had done nothing to help that situation, driving any and all men who even looked in your direction away pretty swiftly. You were never sure if Oliver actually cared about you like you did him, or if it was just convenient to keep his dear little sister so dependent on him. You always assumed the latter, since leaving seemed to have no perceivable impact on him. Sending him off at airport security, standing next to his sobbing mother, you felt numb, unsure of what to do from here.
When the first Christmas rolled around, you were excited to see him again, but weeks before, he cancelled, claiming he was still adjusting to his move. You were crestfallen, but understanding. As other holidays came, birthdays, anniversaries, there was always an excuse, a reason he couldn’t come home. You’d grown not to expect him, and eventually, resent him.
Who was he, to do this to you? To make you so reliant, to take advantage of such a situation, and leave you like this, with so little closure? He promised he’d stay in contact, and he did, for a while. But slowly, it faded, and your stepbrother became a ghost in your life, haunting the halls of a very confused mind.
You couldn’t even share the heartache, afraid of the suspicion you could potentially arouse from being this upset your stepbrother was gone. You couldn’t let anyone know how big the hole he had left in your heart.
You’re pulled from your swirl of emotions when a pair of warm hands cover your eyes, and you almost jump out of your skin.
“Shūto!” You squeal, and he’s hugging you back just as tight. Shūto Sendou, your stepbrother’s best friend, was one of the only other males in your life, the only one Oliver allowed in your life. You always loved him, he was kind, and funny, and he always looked out for you. He was aware of yours and Oliver’s relationship, and wasn’t exactly shy about telling you he thought it was a bad idea, at least when Oliver wasn’t in earshot.
“Guess who?~”
Your fright is sound pushed aside and replaced with excitement. Your hands fly to grab the wrists of your “assailant”, tugging them away and turning to wrap the person in a tight hug in one swift movement.
Of course, you knew he was right, and Shūto knew that you knew, but he also knew you were in deep, so he did his best instead to at least look out for you. He had been a breath of fresh air many times, and a shoulder to cry on when he had, more than once, had to take your incredibly intoxicated ass home, when Oliver refused to leave, and listened to you cry about how he was probably with some other girl. You had been a source of a little tension between him and Oliver, but not enough to end a years-long friendship.
“Happy to see me?” He gives you a coy smirk, pushing back his salmon pink hair. Of course you were. He had been scouted by the same team as Oliver, which had made everything even harder. Sendou and you had kept in touch with each other, and you had asked him about Oliver a few times early on, but that had stopped as your bitterness grew, and Sendou was more than happy to not talk about it. Shuto usually did come home for the holidays, though he had missed last year’s party.
“I suppose I am.” You let your arms drop as you nod, still smiling ear to ear. “How’s Italy been?”
He gives a slight sigh, but he’s still smiling when he speaks.
“Hard work. Between training and keeping your brother out of trouble.” His smile wavers slightly as he notices your grimace at Oliver’s mention.
“Stepbrother.” You quickly correct, and he nods apologetically.
“Anyway…” he starts to change the topic, but you cut in again.
“He’s home.” You state flatly.
“He is..” Shūto rubs at the back of his neck.
“Did you know he was coming?” You raise a brow, accusingly. He had to, he and Oliver were inseparable, two of a kind.
“I found out yesterday, when he showed up to the airport. I guess the monthly paycheck to his mom wasn’t enough this year. Your father actually called him and politely requested he come home.” Sendou’s face tells you your father in fact told Oliver to come home. It was nice in a way, to know you weren’t alone in the seasonal pressure this year, though you still wished he wasn’t here.
You're about to scold him, to tell him you wished he’d given you some sort of heads up, when your father interrupts, coming up behind Sendou.
“Shūto, my boy, good to see you. May I steal my daughter away?” He asks, hand resting on the salmon haired man's shoulder.
“Of course, and thanks for the invite. Happy Holidays, Sir.” Shūto nods his head, not missing the accusatory glance as he abandons you once more to your father, who’s now quickly ushering you away towards the living room. You cast a quick glance over your shoulder, and unsurprisingly, Oliver and the girl, are gone.
You and your father arrive in the brightly lit living room, twinkling lights and too much tinsel near blinding you as you look at the room teeming with people. You expect him to bring you towards your stepmother, but instead he brings you over to one of his work friends. Oh no. You know where this is going to go.
“I always liked that boy” Your father muses as you walk, regarding you from the corner of his eye.
“Don’t. Shūto and I are just friends.” You sigh exasperatedly. “And anyway, Oliver would blow a gasket.”
“Oli would want you to be happy.” He says, curtly.
It takes everything not to give a bitter laugh.
You're ready for a polite, but short conversation as the figure turns, but when he looks at you, you can’t say you’re mad at your father right now. You’re met with a polite and disarming smile, easy and gentle, and a pair of near amber eyes behind a pair of circular rimmed glasses. Your father and his father have quickly busied themselves with other things.
“I want to introduce you to someone.” Your father sing songs cheerily.
“Dad-” You start, but a quick but sharp look causes you to bite your tongue. Instead, you inhale through your nose, and force your most polite smile as you look now at the older man and the figure beside him, who’s back is to you as he talks to someone else. The stranger gives a sharp elbow to the seemingly younger figure beside him, and you know from this familiar scenario, they’re father and son.
He’s polite, and the aura around him is easy going for such an effortlessly handsome young man. You take his hand and shake it, introducing yourself a little more meekly than you’d like. Even now, after all this time, after all the anger towards him, you still feel like you’re doing something wrong, talking to a boy. You feel awkward, unsure of what really to say before your stepmother gently taps your shoulder, and shoves a glass of wine in your hand wordlessly before flitting away to other things.
You realise you’ve been staring a little longer than is polite in silence, and are about to speak when he beats you to the punch.
“I’m about as sorry for my father as I assume you are for yours right now,” He chuckles softly as he offers you a hand, you see the hint of what is an undoubtedly expensive watch beneath the cuff of his well pressed shirt. “I’m Yukimiya Kenyu. You can call me Yuki, if you like.”
“Yeaah.. I get that,” He laughs again, and you smile at the sound behind your glass. “My father loves these things too, anything to rub a few elbows.” He shrugs, and you can actually feel yourself relax. He doesn’t seem snobby or stuffy, like the usual types your father has dumped on you on occasions prior.
You and Yuki laugh somewhat awkwardly as you gingerly take a sip from your glass.
“Your mother’s a diligent hostess.” Yuki chuckles as he adjusts his glasses.
“Mmm,” You hum and nod your head. “Stepmother, actually. My mother hated these parties. As the years go on, I’m starting to understand that stance more and more.” You give a giggle, and internally, you cringe. Both from the impolite nature of your inference, and the fact you just giggled like a little girl. If Yuki was bothered however, he doesn’t show it.
“Who’s your new friend?”
The conversation flows easier from here, and after another glass of wine, you realise you’ve been talking very easily to Yuki for a lot longer than you expected to be.
“Well, I gotta say, as far as schmoozefests go, this one hasn’t been so bad.” Yuki hums, offering a clearly flirtatious smirk that makes your heart skip in your chest, and your cheeks warm.
“Glad to know I make good company.” You quip back, returning his smirk with matched energy.
“Sorry for being so forward, but could I get your nu-” He starts.
Your blood feels like it’s turned to ice in your veins, your face dropping as the voice sounds from over your shoulder. Deep, brash, and filled with accusations that only you know. You compose yourself as you smile politely again. You keep your eyes on Yuki as you speak, not daring to look at the man you know towers behind you. By the look on Yuki’s face, you’re near certain he’s being met with a bicoloured glare. The brunette’s expression is one you’ve seen before.
You turn on your heels, heading out of the living room. You’re barely out into the hall when a large hand is around your wrist, and dragging you up the stairs.
“Oliver, this is Yuki. Yuki, this is-”
“Oliver. Her brother.”
“Stepbrother.” You offer, meekly. Yuki casts you a glance, before looking back to Oliver, holding out his hand.
“Nice to meet you, man. Heard a lot about you from-” Oliver cuts him off, his hand gripping your shoulder.
“My mom’s looking for you. S’urgent.” Oliver says, flatly.
“Damn, I’ll be back, okay? I’ll find you when I’m done?” You offer Yuki, who seems a little taken back at Oliver’s interruption, but he gives you a little nod.
“See you then.”
“Oliver. Let go.” You hiss quietly, trying not to garner too much attention from the few people lingering in the hallway that connect the livingroom and kitchen. A few heads turn, but it’s not a totally unusual sight, and they go back to their conversations. You’re in the upstairs hallway before he says a word.
“So it’s Oliver again, huh?” His glare is as familiar as it is unfamiliar as he hulks over you. He seems even bigger now, if that’s possible, clearly a professional training regime has had quite the effect on his build. He tries to play his smirk off as cool, unbothered, but there’s a sneer to it. “Not even a hello for your Nii-chan, baby?”
The term causes you to stiffen, causes bile to burn at the back of your throat. Who the fuck does he think he is? He left. He stopped coming home. He stopped calling, stopped texting. He waltzed right out of your life, left you bereft and confused, probably like plenty of girls before you. But the trouble was, you couldn’t just pretend he didn’t exist, you didn’t have the ability, because he’s there, at your parent’s house, in all your family photos.
“Anyway, you were busy when I got here. What happened, did you get bored of her too?” You jab your finger against his chest, trying to keep your voice quiet, but still firm. The look he gives you is one of what seems to be sincere confusion, searching his brain for what you could possibly be talking about. Then, in a move that infuriates you further, the bastard laughs.
“What about you? Couldn’t pick up a phone?” You spit, crossing your arms defensively. The sneer seems to waver now, and his eyes cast to the side.
“I.. Well..-” He stumbles over his words, unsure of where exactly he wants to go with this, but the wine has made your tongue looser, and your anger boil over.
“You mean Sendou’s older sister? She knows no one else here, she’s been living in Sendai for the last like.. Five years. I was just keeping her company.” He’s smiling again, smug. “Looks like my little sister is just as jealous as ever, hm?” He quirks a brow, taking a step closer to you. You take several back, keeping space between the two of you.
“Like that’d stop you. Though, an older sister, huh? That’s a nice change of pace.” There’s so much venom in your voice, even quietened, and it surprises even you, but you refuse to back down now. Years of anger, of sadness, of feeling so taken advantage of; this was overdue and then some. His expression darkens again, accompanied by a roll of his heterochromatic eyes.
“Still a fucking brat, too, I guess.” He’s keeping his voice low too, and laced with anger, it comes out near a growl. In your attempt to keep distance, you realise you’ve now blocked your access to the stairs. You don’t entirely care.
“Fuck you, Oliver. Fuck. You.” Away from the stairwell, away from wandering eyes, your voice raises slightly, though you hate the way it wavers. You do mean it, you sincerely do., it’s just that, looking at him now, it makes you near tremble with rage. He turned everything upside down. More things than you could count. And he just pops back up, and he’s still as possessive as he was before. You’re just another of Oliver Aiku’s toys, but he wrote his name on you, so to speak.
Consumed in your swirl of anger, you hadn’t noticed Oliver close the gap between you in a single easy stride. Before you know it, you’re backed up against a door, the upstairs bathroom door, with your chest pressed against yours, and his large hand gripping your jaw. You squirm, it’s a little rougher than you’d like.
“S’that a request, doll? Seems you’ve forgotten your manners since I left.” His voice is low, it’s dangerous, and it’s right next to your ear, the stupid stubble on his face tickling at your skin. You lean your head away, or try to against his grip, trying to get away from those poisonous lips. Oliver wastes no time however, in attaching those lips to your neck, right against that spot that makes your entire body tense and then immediately relax. But your hands still press against his chest, trying in vain to push against that familiar brick wall.
“Oliver, nng- Stop.” Your voice isn’t as firm as it was before, and you hate that. Hate that he feels familiar, feels secure. Despite everything he’s put you through, no one’s hands made you feel as secure (and conflicted) as Oliver’s. Any time anyone else touched you, it didn’t feel right. He’d marred you for everyone else.
He doesn’t stop. The kisses trail upwards, and he manhandles your jaw to keep you from curling your neck in on him. He licks at your jaw, lips against your ear again. “Come on, baby, you know you missed your Nii-chan.”
Your hands ball into the fabric of his white dress shirt, tensing your jaw as you attempt to steel your resolve. You try to shake your head in his grip, but you can’t. Your thighs press together, desperate to stave off the growing feeling between your legs. You feel his hand glide past your waist, hear it fumble with the handle of the door. It falls open, and you’re both stumbling back into the bathroom. You hear the door close and the lock click.
“Oh, but it is. You told me she’s mine, sweetheart.” He starts to massage you over the flimsy fabric, and you sigh heavily before biting down on your lip to force down any more sounds. You don’t want to fold to him, not again, but it’s so hard to fight him, to fight the touch that knows every inch of your body, nearly better than you know your own. “A little distance doesn’t change that.”
“Oliver…” You whimper as he pushes you back against the sink, hands either side of you. His lips are back against your jaw with little time wasted.
“Have you been with anyone else?” He huffs between heated open mouthed kisses.
“That- That’s none of your business..” You exhale shakily as his hand roams up the inside of your thigh. It pushes up your skirt slightly, and you clamp your thighs together around his hand. He uses minimal strength to pry your thighs apart once more, and slides his hand higher, cupping your pussy over your panties.
A little distance. It makes your anger bubble again, but Oliver’s fingers hook into your underwear and tug them to the side. The pads of his fingers press against your clit, and your body jolts. You press your hips back against the cabinet beneath the sink, away from his touch, but he follows, and presses the heel of his palm against your pubic bone, sinking two fingers into you as he does, keeping you firmly in place.
“Good girl.” He coos, and his eyes drop to his hand watching as his fingers disappear into your dripping cunt with rapt attention. His free hand rests on your hip, thumb rubbing tenderly over your body. “Missed you, you know that?”
You fight to close your legs again, but your eyelids flutter as they grow heavy. You hate to admit it, but you missed him. You missed his touch. Missed him inside you. You whimper as he begins to slowly pump his fingers inside you, and you look up at him now. His eyes meet yours, and a sly smile spreads on his lips.
“There she is..” He hums, leaning down to press his lips to your forehead. “So I’ll ask again. Have you been with anyone else?”
“No..” You shudder, his fingers curling slowly inside your heat.
“No, what?”
“Hmph.. No, Nii-chan.” You whine, finally pressing yourself into his touch. As the words fall from your lips, his fingers finally press into the all important spot inside you, and your hips buck immediately.
The feelings of confusion this statement causes swirl in your gut, and mixing with the pleasure it almost feels too much. Tears start to well in your lash line, and your hands reach out, wrapping around his neck. You just want him closer. It’s stupid, it’s ridiculous but you need him closer. He nuzzles his nose against yours, and the pace of his fingers quickens.
“Missed you too, Oli.. missed you so much.” You pant out, but it wavers into a sob.
“Can tell, baby, can feel it.” His voice is soft, but it’s still laced with that smug Oliver inflection, the voice that plays in your head over and over. One that you’ve longed to hear again for three years now. He works his fingers expertly, until your thighs are shaking and you’re a sobbing mess in his arms, his hand from your hip now clamped over your mouth to stifle your moans.
You look up at him with pathetic wet eyes, every nerve on your body standing on edge as you teetered dangerously close to your orgasm, whole body shaking in his arms.
“Nii-chan, I’m gonna cum.” You cry out pitifully against his palm, your fingers grasping at his wrist until you're sure you're leave little crescents in his skin. You’re just about to tip over the edge, finally about to experience your first orgasm at the hands of your twisted love in three excruciating years, when he pulls his fingers from you without any warning.
“M’sorry, baby,” He shushes you, leaning over you as stubbled lips press a kiss to your bare shoulder. The feeling is tender, intimate, and entirely uncharacteristic of him. You feel the weight of his forehead against the back of your neck, heavy as he inhales deeply before pressing another kiss to the top of your spine as he exhales against your skin, and hear the sound of his belt buckle opening. “Y’know I'm greedy. Need to feel you cum on my cock first, yeah?”
The loss is too much; it's too cruel— that another sob rakes through you, from the pit of your stomach right up to your throat.
“Oli! Why-” You're interrupted by him turning you around.
At his words, you arch your back and brace your hands on the sides of the bathroom counter, and you don't miss the way he cursed under his breath at the sight, gravelly and so Oliver as he hikes your dress right up around your waist. It’s a quick movement and entirely eager and only seconds later, you feel the thick, sticky tip of Oliver’s thick cock slide up through your folds.
You don’t even hear the end of the question, you feel your whole body melt around him, melt back into him, and it feels like a long festering itch is finally getting scratched. You forget the anger, forget the bitterness, because Oliver is back with you, your Oliver. Right now, you could care less about anything else, you just want him. And his large hands gripping your waist, his lips blazing trails over your neck as he finally starts a slow, steady rhythm as he pumps into you, that sick satisfaction of something so wrong feeling so deliciously right has you on cloud nine, blissful and hazy.
You shudder and push your hips back, growing thoroughly impatient.
“Oli, please. Need you.” You whine, too far gone to care about whether or not you sounded completely pathetic at this point. Your big brother simply laughs, and swats at the fat of your ass, causing you to yelp.
“Keep it down, doll. You don’t wanna get caught taking nii-chan’s cock,” Oliver’s voice is still low, quiet, and entirely self satisfied, as he slowly sinks himself into you. “Do you?”
“Fuck, still the best fucking pussy I’ve had, baby.. My perfect little sister.” From his reflection in the mirror, Oliver looks like he’s holding it together about as well as you are. Your eyes don’t meet his in the mirror, because his eyes seem firmly fixed on your figure beneath him. You struggle to pull your own eyes from him, too. He looks good. Standing more upright now, his tie hangs loose around his neck, and his shirt is partially unbuttoned, a slight sheen already appearing on his broad chest at his gradually increasing pace. Bicoloured eyes are heavy lidded as he watches himself sink into you, and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth.
The combination of your heavy panting and stifled moans, and Oliver’s grunts and growls, fill the room, the two of you struggling to keep the noises down the more lost you become in each other. Oliver is back leaning over you, humming praises in your ear about how good you’re taking him, how good his pussy feels wrapped around him, and the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter with each saccharine syllable that falls from his lips.
“Wanted you so bad, Oli, m-missed your- nngh~ cock bad.” Your voice is a broken whimper, and your words immediately spur Oliver into driving his hips harder into you, rougher and faster, and your hand flies to your mouth to cover a particularly pornographic moan from spilling from your throat. No sooner than you do, Oliver reaches from behind and yanks your hand away, holding it behind your back.
“Don’t be shy now, babygirl. You weren’t so coy with four-eyes back there.” His lips are right next to your ear as he thrusts deep again, successfully knocking a strangled moan from you this time. You focus on the mirror again, and this time you’re met with those damn eyes, the eyes that have completely warped your entire world. “Were you trying to make your big brother jealous?” He starts slowing his pace. Not much, but enough for you to notice, enough for you to feel your orgasm start to slip away from you once again.
“N-no!” You squeak frantically, eyes pleading with him in the mirror. You inhale slightly to compose yourself as best you can, hoping to draw on his merciful side “No, Nii-chan.”
His free hand snakes around your torso to hold your jaw, forcing you to look in the mirror.
“What would he think if he saw you like this, hm? Messy little slut..” His voice is husky in your ear, heavy with his breathing as he returns to the quicker pace that has you white knuckling the countertop while you try to stop the pleasured cries in your chest. He’s right, though. You are a mess right now. Your once neatly styled hair is a mess, damp with sweat from the stuffy nature of the bathroom. Your makeup is ruined, smudged from tears, Oliver’s hands, and both of your saliva.
His chest is pressed down against your back once more in an instant, his spit coated fingers finding your clit in seconds. It’s just what you need to tip you over. Seconds later, you’re cumming, and cumming hard. You pray the music and chat downstairs is loud enough to cover your cries of euphoria as your vision goes white. It only takes a few more sloppy thrusts before Oliver follows you over that edge, painting your insides for the first time in too long with his cum. You’re surprised when he pulls out, turns you around, and smothers your lips with his once more.
But you don’t particularly care, not right now. You can worry about that later, right now, all you want is release. You’re inclined to say you need it. Your reflection would definitely be embarrassing if you weren’t in the headspace you’re in right now.
“Don’t worry baby, still think you’re real pretty. Prettiest in the whole world.” He squishes your cheeks together between his fingers to emphasise his words, and despite the smirk on his lips, those mismatched eyes actually look like they have hearts in them, look at you like you put stars in the sky yourself. It’s now you realise, maybe the silence from Oliver was something different. Maybe he was hurting just like you were.
“Think you’d look even prettier cumming on this dick though, what about you?” He questions, and as you open your mouth to reply, he slips two of his fingers into your mouth, toying with and massaging your pretty pink tongue.. All you can do now is hum desperately around his digits, and nod your head frantically. “Just gotta do one thing for me first, ‘kay?” His own voice is strained, and you can see the veins on the side of his neck. He’s just as close as you are.
You nod eagerly once again, and suck harshly on his fingers. Your orgasm is so close you can almost taste it.
“I need you to say it. Been so long since I heard it.”
You know exactly what he means. And you hate that he’s pulling it now. Using it as a bargaining chip. Hate that he’s digging up the memory of the last time those words were uttered, through hiccups and tears when it felt like your world was crashing down around you. You hate that you swore not long after, you’d never say those words again.
What you hate most, however, is that as he slips his fingers from your mouth, you don’t even hesitate.
“I love you, Nii-chan.”
It’s a little while later when you make your way down the stairs. Your legs still feel a little unsteady beneath you. Oliver had headed down long before you. You had to do a lot more work to fix yourself up than he did. You were thankful some of your cosmetics were under the sink, left behind from previous holidays or visits in recent times. Anyone who’d paid close attention to your makeup might notice a difference, but you think your recreation is sufficient enough.
When you reach the hallway, you spare a quick glance to the living room. You see Yuki, talking to his father, and feel a little bit of shame in your stomach, but what you surmise in your head to be not nearly enough shame for ditching what seemed to be a very nice young man to hookup with your brother at your parent’s Christmas party. You duck your head as you head into the kitchen.
Most of the people in the kitchen now are your family and their closer friends, Sendou stands in the corner laughing with his sister, Oliver and your father are standing near the kitchen counter, helping his mother pour another tray of drinks. You make your way over to them, feeling a lot less tense than you did earlier.
“Hi, honey. Are you feeling better?” Your stepmom’s voice is chipper, and you can tell she’s a little tipsy. “Oli said you were a little bit unwell, said you were resting upstairs.” Sometimes, you were thankful Oliver was such a good liar.
“Oh, yeah. Much better, thanks.” You give a nod, and your best reassuring smile. It’s then Oliver pipes up from beside you, nudging your arm with his elbow as he looks up.
“Well, would you look at that.” Oliver hums. He can’t be serious.
Above the two of you, mistletoe hangs from the ceiling.
Oliver turns to you, cups your cheeks in his hands, and leans down to press a kiss against your forehead. His mother and a few of your relatives coo and “aw” at the seemingly innocent and sweet gesture. From the corner of your eye, you see Sendou shift uncomfortably on his feet.
“Merry Christmas, kiddo.” Oliver’s voice is cheerful as he chuckles, full of mirth. He ruffles your hair as he stands upright again.
synopsis ━━ after one too many trips to the auto repair shop with your old car, you realize you can focus on your work tasks so much better in the waiting room. but when the head mechanic notices you've been loitering, you recognize him instantly: ken ryuguji. there’s zero chance you’re getting out of this one. (older!draken x f!reader.)
content warnings ━━ missionary position on a motorcycle (hey, this is fiction), cunnilingus + fingering, praise, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names (i.e. cherry), mentions loss of virginity in the past, mutual pining, au as helllll, draken is in his late 20s and a mechanic. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).
word count ━━ 5.2k
song inspiration ━━ one for the road, arctic monkeys / one of the girls, the weeknd / fallen star, the neighbourhood
author's note ━━ ok off the bat, I just wanna say this fic was completely inspired by this movie called wait with me. my friends and I like to watch passionflix movies for the laughs, but this one wasn't. well horrible. if you watch it, don't expect oscar-worthy performances, but it was fun and stupid and yeah, it made me think about what if part of this concept was applied to draken when he was older, workin as a mechanic. idk. I'm not caught up on the manga whatsoever so take this as a major au lol
Your car was a piece of shit, but that wasn’t the only reason you ended up sitting in the waiting room at the mechanic’s more than usual. A police officer would call it loitering. You, on the other hand, called it a safe space. For the past couple of weeks, your car had been in and out of the shop due to a faulty ignition sensor that your mechanic couldn’t nail down until your car broke down on the side of the highway. For the third time. Needless to say, it had been a stressful past month. The car issues had been one thing, but then there was all the pressure at work. And for some reason, you began to find comfort in working at the mechanic’s waiting room.
Your work as a journalist was very important to you. A perfectionist at heart, you needed to be in the right zone, the right state of mind, to write. Unfortunately, you weren’t someone who could sit at your desk at home for hours, typing away at the speed of light, and you definitely couldn’t focus at a coffee shop. You tried a plethora of other places. The local park: your laptop died. The library: teenagers still whispered too loud even in the quietest of places. The McDonald's parking lot: you got distracted by your hunger. Nowhere was right … until you were forced to work from your mechanic’s waiting room while he worked on your car.
Even when your mechanic figured out the issue, you couldn’t help but sneak in through the entrance late mornings and work on your articles. The waiting room was just so … quiet, even more quiet than a library. There was hardly anyone in there besides the retired folk who could wait all day for their car to be fixed. You had a coffee machine at your disposable – not good coffee, but good enough – and a selection of snacks from the vending machine. It was pure bliss. You liked to hole yourself up in the corner, picking out different outfits that would conceal your face enough, and type away until the sun began to set. No one said a word to you. No one batted an eye.
So, as you can see, it was a surprise to you when someone eventually approached you two months into your loitering scheme.
It was just about closing time and you were shoving your laptop in your backpack after sending off another draft to your editor. A pair of feet appeared in front of your chair, and when you looked up at the young mechanic chewing on the end of a toothpick, you knew you were fucked.
“Toyota,” he said without missing a beat, knowing your car from the top of his head, “ignition sensor, right?”
You paused, sliding on your backpack. Could you make a break for it? “Um … correct.”
“That was fixed weeks ago,” he said, slapping a dirty rag on his shoulder, car keys dangling from the other hand.
Your mouth went completely dry. How the fuck could you explain this without coming off as a total weirdo? Your hands gripped the straps of your backpack for dear life. This was so embarrassing.
Before you could reply, the young mechanic gestured to the back door with his chin. “Follow me,” he said. “Boss wants to talk to ‘ya.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Still fiddling with your backpack straps, you knew there was no choice but to follow this guy. He led you through the back door and into the main workshop area of the shop. There were some cars left on a few lifts, ready to be inspected tomorrow, and the shelves packed with parts seemed to be in disarray. Besides that, there was no one in here but you, the young mechanic, and whoever this “boss” was still working in the back of the shop. You had never met the owner of the shop before; you typically worked with your mechanic and no one else.
You took down the hood that you’d been wearing today. There was no use in hiding your face now.
“Here she is, boss,” the man beside you said, still twirling those keys. “Can I go home now?”
“Yeah, yeah,” the boss replied, hidden behind the huge motorcycle he was working on. “Good work today.”
The younger man left, the bell above the office door jingling, and now it was just two: you and this so-called boss you’d never met. You stood there in silence, hands fidgeting with anxiety, as you waited for the boss to say something. From behind the motorcycle, all you could see was a flash of blonde hair and smoke puffing out into the dingy air. It smelled like motor oil and cigarettes back here.
You lifted your foot – maybe it was time to try and sprint out – but then a deep voice entered the work space.
“You know that loitering is against the law, right?”
That voice … it was familiar, but you couldn’t put a pin on it. And then, the boss was standing up, and you saw the tuft of blonde hair slicked back, the shaved sides on his head. That infamous dragon tattoo still on his left temple. The little hoop on his left ear was accompanied by a few other small piercings. He was still the same height – over six feet – but had grown some muscle. His hands were calloused from all those years of fighting, and now, from heavy labor. And those eyes … they were still as stormy and dark as the first day you saw him in school.
This wasn’t just embarrassing. This was mortifying.
“C’mon, Cherry,” Draken said, instantly recognizing you and your old nickname, “you know you can’t loiter in my shop.”
Cherry. You hadn’t been called that since … well, since high school. Your classmates hadn’t started calling you that because of a specific physical trait. To your face, you were told the nickname was for your quick skill of tying a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue. You had been the best, after all. But unbeknownst to you, the nickname came from when Mikey Sano, the infamous former leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang, popped your cherry.
You hadn’t even liked Mikey at the time. You were just sweet sixteen, and he was a year older, and you had assumed it would be better for your first to be someone with experience. Unfortunately, Mikey Sano had no experience. The sex had been awkward and terrible, as most first times between teenagers are, but at least you could say that you lost your virginity to the leader of Toman. Your eyes had always been on someone else, though. Someone who you had been too nervous to talk to, who you had only shared just a few interactions with. You never had a crush on Mikey as a teenager; you had always liked –
“Draken,” you said finally, shock lining your voice. Your eyes formed into wide saucers. It had been so long, and he was here. This whole time. Right under your nose. How surprised did you look right now?
He chuckled, wiping his hands off on a rag. The cigarette dangling from his lips was plucked out, and he stabbed it into an ashtray. “Don’t look so surprised.”
Oh, so you did look that shocked to see him.
He threw the tool he’d been using on a bench and stepped around the bike. “I really don’t go by Draken anymore,” he continued, sitting down on the rusted motorcycle, stretching his legs out. “Just call me, Ken.”
You were speechless. Were you breathing right now? You had to admit … you still found him to be handsome. He always had been. God, you were obsessed with him in high school, but always hid your crush in the shadows. Not even your friends knew about it, but you’d made it obvious, even if you didn’t know it. And now … he’d gotten better with age. The lines underneath his eyes told a story, as well as the scars etched into his veiny forearms. He could have more that you couldn’t see underneath the tattoos on his arms. Your mouth was so dry from staring at him that you had to lick the corners of your lips.
“Ken,” you said in a single breath, lacing your hands together in front of your body. You hadn’t moved from your spot, even when he was looking at you so casually. “I’m so sorry for loitering. Please, don’t call the cops on me. Or something. I have a reason –”
“Me? Call the police?” He laughed again, and it was just like how you remembered. “Do you know me at all, Cherry?”
Once you found the courage to breathe again, you stepped forward. Then another. And another. “I guess I don’t,” you shrugged, still playing with your hands. “I guess I just knew of you.”
“And I knew of you, all those years ago.” He smiled like you two were in on a secret. The rag that had been in his hands was tossed onto his left shoulder. He was wearing a pair of grey coveralls stained with oil, but the top half was unzipped and tied around his waist, leaving him in just a white tank top on his torso, which hugged his muscles so nicely. “So, tell me then. What’s the reason for your loitering?”
This had to be the most words shared between you two than all those years at school together. You thought about pinching yourself, just to check if this was all part of an elaborate dream. Or nightmare, depending on how it ended.
“Um …” You rubbed the back of your neck, blushing slightly. “Well, you see … the waiting room at your shop is very … quiet.”
His brow raised. “So I’ve been told.” He stared you down. “C’mon, out with it.”
“You’re going to make fun of me.”
“I will not.”
“Yes, you will.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because we went to school together!”
“Oh, you know that means noth –”
“I’m a journalist and I write my articles better in your waiting room,” you finally answered, crossing your arms over your chest. “There. I said it.”
Draken couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He knew he promised, but the giggles bubbled up inside him, forcing themselves to emerge. You looked at him incredulously, blinking too fast. All you wanted right now was to crawl into a hole and be left alone. You had to find a new mechanic after this.
“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me,” you sighed.
He waved his hand as his laughter died down. “I’m not. I promise.” Finally, his shoulders sagged again and he stood up. “I think it’s really cool that you … like my waiting room so much.”
You found your lips pulling into a smile at the same time as him. The tension broke and you felt your dimples crease. “I also like all the little snacks in the machine.”
“And the coffee?” He added.
You shrugged. “Could use some work.”
Draken laughed again, and just the sound of it made butterflies form in your stomach. You never had such a reaction to someone laughing before. What was wrong with you?
He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his coveralls. “It’s … really nice to see you again, Cherry.”
You mimicked his actions, instead sliding your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “You too, Ken.”
“I won’t bust you for loitering, by the way. Even if it is against the law,” he chuckled under his breath, whipping the rag off his shoulder once again. “Come over here. Let me show you what I’m working on.”
His tone was so casual, as if years hadn’t passed between you two, as if this wasn’t the most you talked in years. You set your backpack down and approached him in front of the bike. Your fingers ran over the slope of the seat, all new despite the rusty exterior of the motorcycle. “That’s new leather,” he informed you. “Feel free to test it out. I need someone else’s butt on this thing so I know if I chose a good material.”
You giggled, all light and flirty. You simply couldn’t help it, especially when he looked at you with those dark eyes, the corners creasing when he smiled. Without missing a beat, you sat down on the side of the bike, like he had minutes ago, and looked up at him. He was tall, but from this seat, he was even taller.
He pointed to the wheel of the bike, and then the headlight. “I just started replacing the …” His voice drowned out as you simply focused on his lips. His mouth quirked as he explained what he fixed so far on the bike. You watched his finger dance around the bike, taking in the rough exterior of his hands up close. They were so much bigger now, amongst other things –
“So how’s that seat?”
You blinked, bringing yourself out of your horny stupor. “Oh, um – comfy. Very comfy.” You cleared your throat. “So … is this for a customer?”
“It’s mine. This is a personal project,” he explained, leaning slightly to the left, closer to you. “I wouldn’t be working on anything this late except if it was for me.”
His eyes were on you again, drinking you in as you sat on the bike. He placed his hand on the fuel tank, so close to yours. Your stomach was definitely doing flip-flops now, especially when you noticed the way his eyes raked down your figure. You wished you’d chosen something better to wear, something other than a pair of jeans and a cropped hoodie, but you’d only expected to be getting work done in the waiting room today. Not to be confronted by your old school crush. But it looked like it didn’t matter to him. The way he was looking at you … it felt like you were naked.
“It really is nice to see you again,” he said, voice just slightly above a whisper. His stance changed and he moved to stand between your legs.
You bit your lip for a moment. “You already said that.”
“You’re right. Uh … I …” He looked down at his hands, flexing them, breaking his nerves. “You just … look very pretty … sitting on my bike.”
You looked down at yourself. The way you sat with your legs spread wide was anything but attractive, and it wasn’t like you were wearing a cute, little dress. “I do?”
But when you lifted your stare again, his face was so much closer to yours. He was leaning down now, bracing two hands on the leather seat, and trying to pretend like he wasn’t inhaling your perfume. You just smelled … so good. Like strawberries and apples and … cherries. Red, ripened cherries. And the way you were sitting on that seat, eyes wide and cheeks blushing from being caught earlier. Fuck, it reminded him of the first time he saw you in high school. He had been a horny teenager, of course, but the way he saw you tie that cherry stem with your tongue … you were the first person he ever jerked off to the thought of. He had never made a move on you – ever – but at this moment, he was glad. Because things would’ve been different, and you never would’ve ended up loitering at his shop, and you never would’ve been sitting so pretty on his bike, all these years later.
“I just …” He trailed off, words failing him, as he lifted a hand to skim it over your jawline. “You can tell me to stop.”
But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. Your eyes simply batted up at him, leaning into his touch when his fingers caressed your cheek. Your skin immediately flushed. You were so soft, and warm, and god, did his skin prickle when he touched you.
“Can I tell you a secret?” He muttered, voice gravely. You nodded instantly, and his thumb went to trace the outline of your lips. “I had always been … jealous that Mikey got to you first.”
Had your feelings in high school been reciprocated and you didn’t even know it? You licked at the corners of your lips, your tongue quickly flicking his thumb in the process. “You were?” You asked, already feeling yourself getting wet from just him tracing your lips. “I … never really liked Mikey anyways.” You then shook your head. “It feels silly to talk about this so many years later –”
Draken turned your face back to his, looking into your eyes sternly. “You never liked Mikey,” he said, point blank, pressing his thumb onto your bottom lip.
Without hesitation, you wrapped your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue around the fingertip. You shook your head at his question.
His breath hitched. Just the sight of your lips around his thumb had him adjusting himself in his pants. He could feel his cock start to swell with need, causing him to mumble a soft, “Fuck,” under his breath.
You weren’t just wet now. You were soaked.
You slipped your mouth off his thumb, leaving a tiny trail of spit. His face immediately got closer, his lips grazing yours. He could tell they were soft, and even your chapstick smelled like cherries. God, how could he be so hard already? “I liked you back when we were teenagers,” you confessed, reaching out to hook your thumbs in the belt loops on his coveralls. “I was too scared to say anything, and Mikey … he’d just been there. Right place at the right time. We really didn’t feel anything for each other.”
Your words stirred something within him, something more than jealousy. Was it regret? The fact that he could’ve had you, all those years ago, if he’d just manned up and asked. He could’ve fought people all day, but when it came to asking out the girl he liked, he’d sat back, let his best friend pop your cherry. It should’ve been him. Fuck, it could’ve been him.
His lips pressed to yours instantly, needing to taste the sweetness on your lips. His tongue darted out, swiping at that cherry flavor, and he moaned. Actually moaned. Draken wasn’t known to be weak for anyone, but you … you had always been a different story. You pulled him in closer by his belt loops, tipping your face up as he leaned over you. His mouth devoured yours, his tongue slipping past your lips once again to explore your mouth. He gripped the edge of the seat, his other hand cradling your jaw, and you wanted him so much closer. If he just put his knee between your legs, you could –
There it was. He did it, placing his knee right in the perfect spot. You bucked your hips up, setting a slow grind against his knee as he kissed you with feverish intent. Moans fell from your lips and into the kiss, making the tent in his pants grow bigger every passing second. He was so fucking hard now, and he needed more of you. He would have more of you.
“No, stop,” he muttered, breaking the kiss and moving his knee away. You huffed with disappointment, wanting that delicious friction once again, but when you opened your eyes, he was staring at you with purpose. “Please, let me taste you.”
You nodded dumbly, eyes blown out with lust. All you could say was, “Okay.”
In another life, you would’ve said something endearing, or maybe even hit him with a little dirty talk. But you absolutely couldn’t right now. Your head was swimming, the image of him unzipping your jeans and taking them off felt like it was out of a fever dream. Is this what it felt like to drown? No, you were breathing – just about – and Draken was throwing your pants off to the side, kneeling before you. Your legs spread wide as you sat on the bike. Surely, there could’ve been a better place to do this, but the way he was staring at your soaked panties, pushing them to the side to take in your pussy … you knew there was no stopping him. This was just his first course of the night.
His tongue dove between your wet folds, drinking you in like a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. You knew you were done for when his arms wrapped around your legs, holding them apart, giving himself better access to one thing he’d craved for years. He rolled his tongue over your swollen clit, enjoying the sounds that slipped out of your mouth. You muttered obscenities, bucked your hips without thinking, pulled on his slicked-back hair. Anything to give you more friction on your precious, aching clit.
He dragged his tongue down, pushing it inside your warmth, collecting the arousal and groaning like a man starved. Fucking his tongue into you, he angled his nose to brush your clit, and you just about mewled. You had spent so many years either having mediocre sex or stressing over this stupid job, when this – this man you had been in love with in school – was here the whole time, just dreaming about the day he could eat your pussy. So much time wasted, so many fake orgasms, while Ken Ryuguji owned your favorite auto shop, so close to you and right under your nose.
You were pretty sure the seat on this bike had to have been ruined. Draken was turning you into a wet mess, making your hips buck against his face. His lips wrapped your beloved clit, sucking and pulling, needing more – so much more – of you. Slipping two fingers inside you, he pumped them fast. It didn’t take long for his fingers to curl and find that sweet spot that had your core trembling around him. He didn’t know what he’d do if you came on his face. Honestly, he’d probably cum in his pants on the spot.
“C’mon … c’mon … you can cum in my m–mouth –” He was practically begging, his voice muffled from deep within your thighs. “Tastes so, so good … fuck, Cherry, fuck –”
You couldn’t stop yourself, couldn’t even think about anything but the way his tongue lapped at your clit, before you were cumming on his tongue, your arousal smearing all over his lips. He moaned the second he got just a hint of your essence, burying his face more into your legs. You tasted better than candy, than cherries, than menthol cigarettes. He could spend forever between these thighs, drinking you in and listening to your desperate moans.
Once your body stopped shaking, he dragged his tongue one last time through your folds, making sure he didn’t miss a drop. You yelped from the overstimulation, and when you opened your eyes, he was rising from in between your legs. His licked at your slick still staining his lips, bringing your mouth to his again, letting you taste yourself. Your hands fisted into his shirt, downright desperate for more of him. As if reading your thoughts, he pulled back.
“I know it’s not ideal, given the place we’re in, but …” He cradled your face in both in his hands, as if you were just a baby bird. “Can I fuck you, Cherry?”
You nodded without hesitation, already drunk on his touch. You weren’t exactly sure how he planned on doing this. I mean … you two were in the dirty workshop area of an auto repair shop. This wasn’t exactly the best place to have sex. But then he was adjusting your position on the motorcycle, laying your head down by the handlebar and pulling your legs on both sides of the seat, your ass resting nicely in the curve. His hands were quick to roll off your panties.
“Ken,” you called out, sitting up a little and dragging your hand up. His white tank bunched up at the waist. “Wanna see more of you …”
Draken was so goddamn hard in his pants, his cock throbbing with the anticipation of being inside you, but you were just so pretty and he was putty in your hands. He let your palms explore him, lifting his tank top up so you could see what the fabric had been concealing. He’d really filled out since school – his arms were toned, his abdomen more defined. He looked like the statue of Apollo, all lean and muscled, but with just the right amount of grit. You liked that he never got his dragon tattoo removed (although, that would’ve been very painful), and that his piercings remained the same. Everything about him seemed untouched, but he’d just gotten better with age. Just the sight of him made your mouth water.
You leaned back down on the bike, bringing him down with you. Your lips pressed against his hungrily, and he was so, so tempted to slip his tongue into your mouth, when he felt his cock hard as a rock in his pants, aching and pulsating. His mouth broke away from yours, and he whispered, quite hopelessly, “I’m so sorry, but I really, really need to be inside you or my dick is going to explode.”
A chuckle escaped your lips, and just the sound of it made Draken smile. You nodded, urging him to continue, and he quickly unzipped the bottom half of his coveralls. He took his cock out: it was long, curved, pink at the tip, and leaking precum on the shop floor. All the more reason to be inside you; he couldn’t have his mechanics seeing that on the floor and wondering what he was doing after hours. He pulled a condom out from his wallet and slid the ribbed rubber on. Lifting both your legs onto his shoulders, your ass was almost rising off the seat and he positioned himself between your thighs, noticing the way your slick was smeared all over his seat. He grunted at the sight of it, slamming his cock into your without thinking.
You cried out, feeling him so deep so quickly. He held your legs up, leaning down as far as he could, and muttered, “Fuck, I’m sorry – so sorry – just … needed to be inside you. Needed to fuck you on my bike.”
You hand came up to cup his chin for a moment. “S’okay,” you promised, “just fuck me like you should’ve done years ago, Draken.”
He knew he told you to call him Ken, but just the nickname falling your lips in such a filthy manner had him groaning. Draken pulled out of you until only the tip remained, and then pounded his cock back inside you. You keened, trying to close your legs, but he held them up by his shoulders. He set a fast pace inside you, unable to keep his moans at bay, and slipped one hand off your leg to snake his fingers up your hoodie, pushing it up to your chin. Pulling your breasts out from your bra, his eyes clouded and played with your sensitive nipples. “So good,” he muttered, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for a moment. “Feels so, so good … needed you for so long, Cherry.”
“I know, I know, Draken,” you whimpered, locking your arms around his neck to bring his face closer to yours, your thighs now curling against your chest. Your back ached against the seat and your legs burned from the uncomfortable position, but you wouldn’t dare push him away, not when he was filling you like this.
With his lips just grazing yours, he tugged on your lip, making you moan, and he fucked into you harder. Your nails were now dragging down his shoulders, leaving marks that he’d think about forever. “Fuck, I’m s’deep … so deep inside you. You’re so warm, so wet – fuck, I’m so close already.”
“Wait for me,” you begged, sighing as his cock curved against your sweet spot. “Wanna cum with you, Draken.”
“I know, Cherry,” he grunted, his pace relentless. Fuck, this was all he ever needed, all he wanted to do, forever. It felt like you were made to take him. “Touch yourself f’me. Cum together … we’ll cum together.”
You nodded quickly, moving your hand in between your bodies, finding your puffy clit so easily. A whine escaped your lips as you fingers rubbed little circles, getting you so close already. You just needed a little push. Draken was slamming into you, his breaths fanning your cheeks, and when he felt your legs start to shake, your walls clenching just a little, he almost died. “Such a good girl …” He cooed, nose brushing yours. “Touching yourself f’me so nicely … fuck, you take me so well … yes, yes, you’re so close. Just like that.”
Your fingers rubbed a little faster, and you knew your orgasm was imminent. With him pushing into you, filling you completely, and the stimulation on your clit … you felt your lips purse into an O-shape. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Draken. I’m gonna … fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
“I know, I know,” he groaned. “Fuck – gonna cum too. That’s a good girl … doing so good – fuck –”
His release came first. He had been close for so long, Draken was surprised he’d been able to hold back. He came with a loud groan, spilling himself into the condom, and it was only seconds later that your jaw went slack with pleasure. His name fell from your lips in a whimper, and you kept rubbing that aching clit through your orgasm, going tight around his cock. He wouldn’t stop fucking into you, even when your orgasm subsided, needing to feel you clench around him for just a moment longer. The way he filled you wasn’t like any other. You never wanted to feel empty again. You couldn’t, not when you knew how Ken Ryuguji felt inside you.
When you both eventually stopped trembling, he gently placed your legs back down on the sides of the bike. They felt sore and limp, but that was the last thing on your mind. You opened your eyes at the same time, and you both couldn’t help but laugh at the position you were in, the absurdity of it all. The workshop smelled like gas and oil, and you were surrounded by broken-down cars. But you two had fucked like you were in a bedroom, on a soft mattress, rather than a motorcycle. You hand went over your mouth to suppress your giggles.
Draken smiled with you, and then removed your hand, liking the way you laughed. “I know it’s been a long time coming, but … can I take you out some night?”
You couldn’t stop smiling even if you tried. “I’d like that, Ken.”
His cock had gone soft, but he was still nestled inside you, basking in your warmth. Draken wished he could be inside you forever, with your fingers playing with his hair. He would give anything for this moment to last, but he knew this position on the bike had to be the most uncomfortable for you, and he needed to take off this condom. He chuckled under his breath.
“Also, in case you were wondering,” he said, lips pulling into a smirk. “You can loiter around my waiting room anytime.”
Ugh, sorry, more little blurbs while I try to write something cohesive.
Ghost who makes you call him sir in bed when he slaps you across the face, hiking one of your legs up to your stomach, fucking you on your side. "So good, little slut, so precious." He growls. Telling you to beg him louder, tell him how much you fucking like it when you take his cock deep inside your slutty hole. "Take that cock! Fuckin' take it, beg for it until I see those sweet tears."
Vs.
Simon who breathes you on, practically humps you, hands holding your stomach and smoothing over you arched hips off the bed. "Love... fuck, you're so good... like heaven around me-" Telling you how good you're being for him without him even having to ask you. "Taking it so deep, so fuckin' deep in that cock, all for me. All for me baby..." Driving his cock deep inside you, kissing your ear and telling you just have good you sound when you take it deep.
Keegan who handcuffs you to the bed, watching you moan and bounce with your wrists bound to the headboard. His hand firm in your messy hair, watching you cry as he ruthlessly bullies his thick cock deep inside you. "Look at you, all messed up just for me..." His pelvis slamming between your thighs with each heartbeat. "Fuckin' moan for me baby! Scream my name! Oh that's it! That's it get louder!"
Vs.
Keegan who handcuffs your wrists in front of you, giving him free will go tug on them. Leaning down to kiss your mouth open, tugging the cuffs lightly to push you down on his cock. "Fuck... Fuck baby you're gonna drive me crazy like that." He purrs against your lips, rolling his eyes and fucking his hips into you. "All up on my cock like that. Oh baby you make me want it-" Hearing you whimper into his mouth and kiss him back, feeling you taking his cock, it's all he needs.
König who loves to make your little back arch. Telling you to bend more or he'd break you. Firm hands on either side of your hips as he watches his cock slide deeply in and out of you. "Such a little thing I get the pleasure of breaking. Such a good little thing for me!" Telling you if you keep acting like such a slut he'll fill you up deep with it. "Quiet maus, I don't want the neighbors to hear what a filthy thing you are!"
Vs.
König who pants softly, hands on your hips bouncing you along his thick cock. Watching your stomach bulge slightly or your hole stretch, the tip of his cock pressing into the wall of your body. Watching your eyes flutter and you moan and moan around him. "I love you, I love you precious little thing..." Eyelids fluttering when he sees you crumble under your shaking thighs and the weight of your orgasm. "Oh so good liebling... Fuck, so so good.."
