a/n: kuso ooc maybe, in my eyes he can b scary nd sweet + yeah i was half horny half giggling writing ts + porn with SO MUCH PLOT IM SORRY + ignore that the word counts kept increasing + half-assed proofreading 💔💔💔
`*.,𓍯𓂃𓏧𓏧𓏧𓏧 total wc: 12,181
「 i. bunny 」 - 381
you really should’ve known better than to test your luck. calling bunny a "pinky dick" when you knew damn well he was the exact opposite. you’d only said it to joke around with your friends on FaceTime, completely forgetting he was within earshot. you definitely didn't mean it, but bunny couldn’t care less about excuses. now, he had you pinned flat against the mattress, his heavy muscles completely trapping you before you could even think about crawling away.
“so…wanna say that again corazón? who’s pinky dick?” his voice honey sweet against your ears, his cock that very much was not pinky sized felt like it was punching your stomach, each roll of his hips felt suffocating. you writhe, face squished into the mattress as he’s cuffed your hands over your head in a single, tight grip.
“answer me, [Name].” bunny’s words were punctuated by a heavy thrust. his free hand hooked under your chin, lifting your head to ensure he’d hear every sound. you gasped, chest heaving as cold air rushed in, only for him to grind forward again—silently demanding an answer with the punishing friction.
“bu— bunny~!” a breathless gasp broke from your slack jaw with every relentless grind of his hips. you could feel the heavy, wet weight of him slapping against you, so full and tight it made your stomach flip. trying to hide your nerves behind a shaky smile, you licked the thumb grazing your bottom lip. “c—can't… mmnh~.. can't even feel it,” you lied, your trembling voice giving you away instantly. “alright, conejita,” bunny murmured.
you didn't even get the chance to continue teasing him. one of his large hands pinned you by the nape while the other slammed down on your lower back, trapping you against the bed. in a split second, his slow grinds turned into relentless, jackhammering thrusts that made the bed frame whine.
“since you wanna keep— fuck… being a brat… we’ll keep going ‘til your brain melts, mi amor." your voice broke, a flood of desperate moans filling the room within seconds. you reached back uselessly, nails scratching at his thighs, but his steady pace didn't falter even a second. the friction only seemed to urge him on, burying himself deeper until he was bottoming out perfectly against your sweet spot.
「 g. kuso 」 - 649
“love, have you seen—?”
“so i called him ‘pinkydick’ and he just laughed it off.” you were stretched out on your belly, completely comfy on the bed with your phone snug between your ear and shoulder. you were rocking your boyfriend’s oversized jersey, casually spinning his glasses between the fingers of your free hand.
“…i really love him, but i don’t know how else to rile him up.” you looked up at the sound of a knock. the door was already wide open, but he wanted to at least let you know he was there. “you’re still on about that?” you ignored him as he entered the room, purposely talking louder now that he was inside.
“[Name]—” “—and s’not like even if he wasn’t a babydick, i doubt he’d know how to actually use it,” you said, your eyes glued right to his. “really? is that how you wanna play?” he snatched the phone from your shoulder, tossing it somewhere onto the mattress, the call still active. “so i’m pinkydick? okay. guess squirting on this ‘pinky’ dick last night wasn’t enough for you, huh?”
kuso crawled over you, his heavy frame boxing you in as he grabbed your waist and flipped you onto your back. “woah—! baby, wait... the call’s still—” kuso cut you off, plucking his glasses right out of your hands and sliding them onto his face. now, he could see your delicate, disheveled face with perfect and terrifying clarity. his lips crashed into yours—it wasn’t the tentative, soft kiss he usually gave you.
muscled hands snaked between your thighs. unbeknownst to him, you weren’t wearing any panties—of course not. kusos fingers slipped between your slick folds, moving up and down your swollen clit, spreading you gently. you tried to swallow the reaction, but as his thumb grazed the sensitive bud, a soft, trembling gasp finally escaped your lips, melting into a whine.
he swallowed them completely with a kiss as he pulled you up against him by the waist. when he finally pulled back, your tits soft against his hardened pecs, his mouth found the shell of your ear. “let me show you… what this ‘pinky’ dick has to offer.” a soft sound started in your throat, but it hitched sharply, breaking into a needy whine as you feel the thick head of his cock flick against your entrance.
he drags his slit perfectly over your clit. kuso was playfully teasing you, just barely pressing the tip in before pulling out, resting his entire weight right against your mound, his warm balls pressing against your weeping pussy. obviously, there was no way in hell he was a pinkydick. from the sheer length of him brushing against you, plunging that all the way in would definitely feel like a punch in the gut.
“so noisy…” he whispered. he kept bullying your clit with his cockhead—up and down, side to side. you didn’t even know if the twist in your tummy was an orgasm, a dry ride, a squirt, or if you were genuinely about to wet yourself. a piercingly high-pitched moan escaped your gritted teeth, your clit was pulsing with a frantic life of its own. “ffffuck—! oh god… oooooh my god~!”
your hands reached up, delivering helpless, pathetic slaps to his bare chest—an effort that only earned you a fast, stinging slap to your thigh. he didn't care, merely glancing over at the still-ongoing call on your phone. your friends be damned. a small puddle was already forming on the mattress beneath you both. his dick would feel so cozy nestled deep inside you, but he wasn't giving it up yet.
“keeping you like this aaaall night, sweetheart,” he growled, pinning your wrists. “since you’re so persistent about me having a small penis… i’m just going to graze the edge of you. again and again. ’til you’re begging me to put my dick inside you, [Name].”
「 l. julien 」 - 837
moans echo through the apartment, your arm already cramping from the frantic, useless pace of the plastic toy. not a single orgasm has been wrung out of you over the past hour.
“uuuggh… fffuck— mmnplease…~” your eyes are tightly shut, head hanging off the edge of the bed while you try to work the toy deeper.
just thirty minutes ago, you and your boyfriend, julien, got into a petty argument. it wasn’t even that big of a deal—to him, at least—until the word “pinkydick” slipped out of your mouth. you honestly thought he wouldn’t take it seriously. this was Julien Loki, after all; he was usually calm, collected, and rarely let words get under his skin.
of course, he took pride in his well-above-average size. hearing that from you, his lover, had clearly struck a nerve. even when you frantically backtracked and told him you didn't mean it, he had just nodded, kissed your forehead even then smoothly told you it was just a ‘heat of the moment’ comment.
if he was so fine with it, then why had he forced you onto your back, making you fuck yourself with a pathetic dildo while he watched? his own cock was straining against the fabric of his pants where he sat in a chair across from the bed, watching you sweat, gasp, and whine—but never cum. “pl—please baby… jules, my—my arm hurts,..~” you weakly paw at him.
“Mon chou, je croyais que t'étais pas intéressée par ma micro-bite?”
his tone is dripping with condescension. you hate how whenever julien speaks his mother tongue, it makes your pussy clench. the pretty, rolling words combined with the fact that you can barely understand him leaves you stranded; you never know whether he’s praising you or degrading you.
you blink up at him, eyes gleaming with a mix of confusion and desperation. your hand slows, the toy starting to slip out. “wh..what’d that mean…?”
he lets out a low chuckle, eyes crinkling as he looks down at your inverted face. standing up from his chair, julien closes the distance. he steps over you, straddling your shoulders so your head is pinned between his thighs, forcing you to look straight up at the huge tent in his joggers.
he takes your hand, gently placing it over the ridge. “is that mini-sized to you, ma chérie?”
you gulp, your fingers instinctively curling to cup his mass. “no, it’s not, jules… i already said sorry…” you pout up at him, fingertips finding his waistband to tug them down. he snaps his hand around your wrist, stopping you instantly.
“so, what am i then?” “you’re not… pinkydick….”
julien flashes you a cheeky, exultant smirk, finally releasing your wrist and letting you pull his sweatpants down. his cock springs free, heavy and thick, lightly smacking against your cheek with a soft thud.
“Désolé, amour~” the heat of him radiates against your skin. you lick your plush lips before parting them with a needy, “ahhh…”. the sight gives him a visible shiver. his cock twitches, and julien licks his own lips before slowly pushing himself past your teeth. he exhales a shaky, ragged breath as he bottoms out completely, crowding your vision until his balls are resting against your nose. his eyes follow the stark bulge he’s making in your throat.
his hand snakes around the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair to hold you still, making sure you take every single inch.
“be good and keep me warm… i’ll finish your half-assed work.”
he leans down, his long frame easily reaching between your thighs to grasp the slippery, glossy pink toy that has half-way slid out of you.
without warning, he plunges the plastic back inside. the sudden, dual invasion from both ends makes your pussy wink and gush, cream spilling out in small spurts. loki clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
“you were already so close, yet still couldn’t make yourself cum with this pathetic toy. do you need my dick to cum now, Name]? can’t get enough of me can you?”. each time your throat constricts around him, a low, guttural grunt leaves his mouth.
every muffled moan you make sends vibrations straight up his shaft, driving his hips into a heavier rhythm. he picks up the pace on both ends, the plastic tip bumping your g-spot deliciously while his hips rut in tight, punishing circles.
your limbs flail, fingers scratching uselessly against his thighs, but julien remains completely steady over your head. he easily pins one of your legs down with his free hand, keeping you wide open. “Sois sage.”
another orgasm builds violently inside you. he can tell it’s going to be a big one from the way your thighs are quivering against his torso. julien looks down at you, watching his pre-cum bubble out of the corners of your lips as you helplessly choke on him. he lets out a soft, broken whimper, his hips driving in deeper, coaxing strangled gags out of you. “fuuuck…"
「 k. michael 」 - 1.1k
“Schatz… what the fuck are we doing here…?”
you and kaiser walk hand-in-hand through the aisles of an adult shop. toys line the shelves, leather collars and leashes adorn the deep red and pink walls, beautiful lingeries on display by the front windows.
“i wanna experiment!” “what for? you already have me, [Name]—.”
you cut kaiser off, fingers untwining from his. “look babe, it’s so cute~!” you inspect a jet-black leather collar and leash bundle. the silver buckles, hearts, and chains are so highly polished you can see your reflection in them. “…bet it’d look cuter on you~”
you eye him playfully. he’s standing a few feet away, hoodie pulled over his head and his hands tucked into his pockets.
“Ja, 'cos obviously i’m the one wearing that,” he mutters sarcastically under his breath. he draws closer, the space between you vanishing. “if anyone’s wearing it, it’s you, Süße,” kaiser whispers against your ear.
you keep the bundle snug in your hand as you browse the shop further. eyes wander from one aisle to another, until they land on a section kaiser definitely didn't expect you to be interested in. the dildos.
“Maus, surely you wouldn’t be needing any of these. right?” kaiser murmurs. he runs his fingers along one of the many colorful silicone models on display, eyeing the varying lengths and girths of it with a skeptical squint.
he looks over to find you already playing with one, twisting it and wiggling the flexible thing. you titter, looking back at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “hehehe, it’s bigger than yours, pinkydick~”
you casually place the toy back on the shelf to continue your little adventure, completely misjudging his temper.
before you can take another step, kaiser’s hand clamps around your wrist. he yanks you backward, pulling you flush against his chest. “Wie bitte?” his thumb and forefinger find your chin, tilting your head up, forcing your eyes to meet his metallic blue ones.
“what?” you say, trying to sound casual. “it’s just a joke! you know i’d never say that about kaiser junio—”
kaiser interrupts you by squishing your cheeks together with his fingers, forcing your lips into a helpless pout. “i heard you loud and clear, [Name]. did you take me here just so you could rile me up, Engel? have me surrounded by these toys, then tease me. have i not been fucking you good enough?”
you try to speak, voice muffled. “maaaybe…~” you bat your lashes at him anyway.
kaiser huffs, his jaw tightening. without another word, he snatches the leather collar from your hand, grips your wrist, and quietly drags you toward the store's single-occupancy restroom, his eyes sweeping the floor to ensure the staff are distracted. he pulls you inside, slams the door, and throws the lock.
before you can even breathe, your back is pressed against the cold ceramic wall.
he unbuckles the pristine leather neckband, wrapping it snugly around your throat. “kaiser, this is shoplifting—”
“shut up. you’re annoyingly good at getting under my skin, Liebling….unfortunately, i really love that about you.” kaiser wraps the silver leash-chain around his knuckles and gives it a sharp, testing tug.
the sudden pull yanks you forward, your hands catching against his chest. “what the hell—?! the fuck are you playing at?” you try to claw at the leather, but his tattooed hand effortlessly pins your wrists down.
“'pinky' dick? are you saying i have a small dick, [Name]?”
your eyes widen. “this… is all because of that? i said i was joking, you big baby!” his wounded pride almost makes you laugh, but the intensity in his eyes instantly kills the urge.
“well, it really didn’t sound that way to me. i haven’t been neglecting you, have i?” kaiser leans in close, his teeth gently nibbling at your ear.
“no, micha, you’ve been so good to me, i was just teasi—”
“no, no, no… that must be it,” he interrupts, his voice dropping into a low purr. “i haven’t been fucking you hard enough. deep enough. because apparently, my dick’s too small, right?”
“i—i didn’t mean it that way—”
“turn around, Häschen…” kaiser completely closes the distance, pinning you against the wall. you can feel his rock-hard erection burning through his joggers—thick, heavy, and definitely not the size of a pinky. the man was itching to prove a point.
“turn… around, my love…” he pants softly, his gaze locked on yours under the buzzing fluorescent lights.
he releases your wrists, and your hands fly to his face, pulling him down for a brief, unhurried, desperate kiss; a silent apology despite the sketchy restroom setting. when you pull away, you finally oblige.
turning around, pressing your chest flat against the cool wall. kaiser steps in right behind you, his clothed cock nestling perfectly between your thighs.
“Braves Mädchen…” kaiser mutters. he wraps his fingers into the collar's chain, pulling back slightly to force your spine to arch and your hips to flare out. a quiet, needy whimper escapes you. “Du bist so schön…~”
kaiser’s hips begin to move, slowly dry-humping against your clothed backside. the friction is maddening. you reach back, blindly pawing at his waistband, which earns you a dark chuckle.
“So ungeduldig… c’mon then, take what’s yours~”
your hand slips under his waistband, fingers brushing through a thin patch of hair before wrapping around his bare shaft. the sheer, heavy weight and girth of him is enough to make your mouth go dry.
“so big… didn’t mean to call y’that, baby… m’sorry~” you gently guide him out, letting his hot length rest against your skin.
kaiser hooks his fingers into your skirt and panties, tugging the fabric roughly to the side to reveal your already soaking pussy. the sight makes his cock twitch violently.
with a low grunt, kaiser plunges inside you in one heavy, deliberate stroke. his free hand immediately slaps over your mouth, muffling the loud gasp that tears from your throat. “shhhh…”
his thrusts immediately pick up—brutal, deep, and agonizingly precise. he uses his sheer height and body weight to drive up into you, lifting your feet slightly off the linoleum floor, pinning you securely against the wall with his hips. your hands scramble against the tile, trying to find purchase as the metal chain and heart charms of the collar jingle loudly in time with the wet, heavy slaps of skin against skin
if anyone walks into the hallway outside, they’d absolutely hear and know something was going on in there.
“fast-… f—faster…” you whimper helplessly into his palm.
a triumphant, arrogant smirk stretches across his lips against your neck. “Wie du willst, Schatzi~”
「 s. ryusei 」 - 836
you could feel the heat radiating off shidou before he even reached you. he smelled like turf, sweat, and raw victory. he was riding the high of the match, his voice booming as he detailed exactly how his "explosive" movements left the defenders in the dust. tired of his endless boasting, you crossed your arms and muttered, "too bad that energy doesn't always transfer to your pinkydick ~".
the shift in the air was instantaneous. shidou stepped in close, trapping you against the wall, his chest practically brushing yours. he tilted his head down, pink eyes blown out and full of vicious hunger. "what was that?" he muttered, voice dropping into a growl that sent a shiver straight down your spine. "my cells are still buzzing from that delicious win, y'really wanna do this right now?"
your breath caught in your throat, the fierce heat of his body overwhelming your senses. he was so close you could feel the rapid, heavy thuds of his heart against his ribs—a furious rhythm that matched the dangerous look in his eyes. you tried to keep your smirk up, refusing to back down, but your voice wavered just a smidge. "i said what i said, baby."
a wicked grin split across his face. shidou let out a low chuckle that you felt deep in your chest. "man, you really are a masochist huh [Name]? testing me when im already flying this high."
before you could even formulate a response, his hand shot out, long fingers locking around your wrist with a strong grip. he didn't hurt you, but the absolute authority in his touch left no room for argument. with a sharp tug, he yanked you away from the wall and began dragging you down a dimly lit corridor, indifferent to anyone who might see.
"hey, wait—where are we going?" you hissed, tripping slightly to keep up with his long strides.
"somewhere i can show you exactly how explosive i can get," he shot back over his shoulder, his eyes flashing with adrenaline as he kicked open the door to a vacant staff room. he pulled you inside, slamming the door shut behind you then locking it in one quick motion.
the ensuing silence of the room was deafening compared to the hallway, but the space between you was practically combusting. shidou turned around, backing you right into the door. before you could even draw a breath, he stepped fully into your bubble, massive arms wrapping around you to pin you against his chest. one heavy arm securely banded around your waist, pulling your hips flush against his while the other hand tangled firmly into your hair, tilting your head back.
shidou leaned down, hot breath brushing against your lips, unhinged and ravenous. "now," he whispered against your mouth, his teeth grazing your lower lip. "let's see if you can keep that bite when i'm absolutely ruining you, sweetheart."
—hot gasps fill the room. he’s got you pinned on a dusty bench in the corner, your own shirt stranded on the floor as you're currently wearing his sweaty jersey, the neckline slipping off your shoulder to expose a throat and cleavage painted in love bites and hickies.
both of his massive hands dig into your hair, stabilizing your head as he continuously rams his slick cock inside your mouth. the lower half of your face is shiny, dripping a mix of pre-cum and saliva. breathing through your nose is a struggle; whenever he bottoms out, coarse pubic hair smothers your airways.
shidou stopped mid-thrust, pulling out just to watch the strings of saliva connecting your lips to his shaft. he relishes the feel of your hot, ragged breaths against his aching dick. licking his lips, shidou grabs his cock and lifts it, revealing his heavy, full balls.
“lookit that, [Name]…” he presses his length against your face, the base resting at your chin and the tip reaching way past your hairline. “not so ‘pinky’ anymore, right? now c’mon, get to work and suck on those jewels~”
shidou urges you down toward his nuts, keeping a tight grip on your head—a silent warning that he won't continue unless you do exactly as he asks.
you click your tongue before vacuuming your lips around one of his testicles, rolling it inside your mouth with your tongue before switching to the other. he exhales heavily, gulping before whispering a soft, “fuuuuuck yeah ..,get in there~”
he ruts deeper into your face. after a while, shidou finally gets your mouth off his nuts. looking down at your messy face, with a couple of his curly, dark-blonde pubic strands stuck to your chin; he grins.
“fucking beautiful~”
shidou drags his cock all over your face, cockhead circling your lips, he slaps your cheek with hit before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his phone. enclosed in the phone case you bought him; the one with the cutely drawn sperm cells on.
“next time… we think before we speak, okaaay? say cheese~”
「 i. sae 」 - 1.6k
to sae, life was a series of optimal decisions, and currently, you were a walking glitch in his system. he’d been pacing the room for five minutes now, delivering a flawless, monotone monologue about your lack of discipline. it was almost impressive how condescending he could be without even raising his voice.
utterly done with his shit, you let out a loud and exaggerated sigh, ruining his flow. "are you done?" you asked, giving him a lazy, challenging smile. “cus all this talking is giving me very strong small dick energy."
if you wanted to wipe the smug look off his face, it worked perfectly. sae stopped mid-stride. his mouth thinned into a hard, flat line. he didn't say a word, slowly turning his entire body toward you, the ensuing silence from him feeling a lot more intimidating than any lecture he could have ever given.
…”you've got a lot of nerve," sae murmured, his voice dropping an octave, vibrating right through your chest. it was devoid of the clinical boredom from before, laced instead with a heavy heat. "you think because i tolerate your attitude, you get to question what i’m capable of?"
his teal eyes raked down your face, dropping to your lips, then down the column of your neck before snapping back up to lock with yours. the smugness you wanted to wipe away was gone, replaced by a predatory focus that made your knees feel weak.
he didn't wait for an answer. sae easily crowded you backward until the back of your thighs hit the edge of the desk, trapping you between the furniture and his hard frame. his hand slid down to your waist, his grip bruisingly tight as he yanked your hips snug against his.
any doubts you had about his "energy" vanished instantly. his hard-on pressing firmly against your lower stomach was an immediate, undeniable counter-argument to your little joke. “see? even when you're running your mouth like a little smartass..." sae let out a low exhale against your skin, his hips shifting just enough to make you eye his growing bulge “…you still manage to look so fucking good doing it."
a low, breathless gasp escaped your mouth at the friction, and a ghost of a smirk finally returned to sae’s face—knowing, and unyielding.
"not so talkative now, are you?" he whispered, breath hot against your ear just before his lips brushed your neck. he didn't let you answer. instead, his hand gripped your wrist, pulling you firmly toward the floor-to-ceiling glass doors of his high-rise. with one swift motion, he slid the heavy barrier open, and a rush of cool night air hit your heated skin, making your nipples harden.
the city below was a sprawling grid of neon and headlights, but you barely had time to look at the view before sae shoved you down. your knees bit into the cold, concrete floor of the balcony. the contrast was dizzying—the open sky yawning above you, the distant hum of traffic below, and him standing right in front of you, his back to the railing.
anyone in the opposite skyscraper could look over. the sheer vulnerability of being outside made your heart hammer against your ribs, a thrill of pure panic shooting through you as your boyfriend casually unzipped his pants.
"since you had so much to say inside," he murmured, his eyes reflecting the cold glow of the city lights as his thick, pulsing dick sprang free into the night air, "let's see how loud you can be out here."
—he didn't wait for you to ease into it. sae’s fist tightened in your hair, using his grip to guide your head forward as he stepped his hips into your face.
the thick head of his dick parted your lips, and then, with a slow, deliberate push, he shoved himself past your teeth. your jaw stretched painfully wide as he buried his length deep into the heat of your throat. the fullness triggered an immediate gag, your hands flying up to grip his thighs for balance as your vision swam with tears.
"take it," he growled, so low that you could feel it directly against your tongue.
he started to move, his hips adopting a ruthless, rhythmic pace that dominated your senses. he was unapologetic about it; each thrust forcing him deeper, the friction making saliva slick his shaft and trail down your chin in a messy, wet line. every time your throat clamped down in a desperate reflex, sae just let out a hiss, his thumb pressing hard into your cheek to force your jaw wider, taking exactly what he wanted.
you were at his mercy, choking out broken, muffled sounds against his stomach as he used your mouth like a tight, private vice, destroying any trace of the attitude you had just minutes ago.
sae looked down at the disaster he’d made of your face, and a deep, possessive chuckle ripped from his chest. he liked it. he loved seeing proof of how thoroughly he was breaking you.
his thumb shot down, hooking into the corner of your mouth to stretch your lips even wider as he delivered three devastatingly deep, bottom-heavy thrusts. the rough friction smeared your red lipstick out of bounds, painting your lips in a blurred mess.
when he finally pulled out with a wet, sticky pop to let you catch your breath, the visual was disorienting.
there, in the dim, warm glow of the balcony lights, his thick cock was slick and glistening with your saliva. but right at the very bottom, painting the heavy base of his shaft and staining the skin of his low-hanging balls, was a bright, undeniable ring of your red lipstick. it was a perfect, filthy brand—proof that you had swallowed every single inch of him until you couldn't take any more.
sae let out a ragged, uneven chuckle, his chest heaving as he looked from the red stain on his skin back up to your smudged, tear-stained face.
"look at you," he whispered, his voice stripped of its usual composure, dark and heavy with praise. "look at what a pretty fucking mess you are.”
you were breathless, jaw aching as you tried to catch your air in the night breeze. weakly, you leaned forward, resting your cheek against the warm, solid muscle of his inner thigh, your face resting beside his pulsing cock.
sae’s hand remained tangled in your hair, his fingers twitching, but he didn't pull you away. he just watched you, chest rising and falling in thumps as you looked up at him through your smudged mascara.
you didn't break eye contact for a single second as you tilted your face toward him.
slowly, you pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses right at the base of his shaft, right where the red lipstick stained his skin, then another. you moved up a fraction of an inch, planting a series of slow, incredibly wet kisses along the sensitive side of his cock. every time your lips parted against his hot skin, you left a glistening patch of moisture behind, deliberately taking your time as you trailed your mouth higher and higher toward his throbbing tip.
a sharp, involuntary hiss escaped his lips, sae’s hips jerking forward at the agonizingly sweet, rhythmic torture of your lips moving up his dick. his grip in your hair tightened, anchoring you there as low groans rumbled from his chest.
"are you done?" he rasped out, throwing your own opening words right back at you, his voice dark and shot. he stared down at you, his pupils blown wide. "are you finally done giving me all that attitude?"…”what, nothing to say?" he murmured, a dangerous little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips when you only offered a lazy, wet hum against his skin.
he didn't wait for an answer. with a firm, practiced grip on your hair, he tilted your face up.
smack.
it wasn't hard, but the heavy, humiliating weight of his lengthy cock slapping against your flushed cheek made your eyes widen. the damp skin of his shaft left a slick streak across your cheekbone, smudging your makeup even further.
"so pretty when you’re quiet..," his voice dropping as he dragged his cock back and let it drop against your other cheek with another loud smack.
you let out a soft, indignant gasp, your lips parting to protest—which was exactly what he was waiting for.
"open," he commanded softly.
you didn't even have time to comply before his thumb pressed hard into your chin, forcing your jaw down. instinctively, you poked the tip of your tongue out to catch your breath.
for a split second, his expression softened a bit, his grip loosening as he gave you gentle pets, tugging stray strands of hair that stuck to your forehead behind your ear.
"good girl," he murmured, his voice surprisingly soft, almost tender as he looked at your plush, painted lips. “you take me so well... so good and sweet for me right..?”
but before you could even melt into the praise, the wicked glint returned to his eyes. he didn't give you a second to breathe before he lined himself up.
slap. slap. slap.
three continuous smacks echoed on the balcony as he whipped the heavy, wet head of his dick against the flat of your exposed tongue.
the blunt friction dragged hard across your tastebuds, flooding your mouth with his hot, salty and thick cum. a muffled cry was beaten out of your throat with each strike, your head jarring backward slightly from the rhythm of it.
"...now swallow it and shut the fuck up," sae hissed, the sweet tone gone, replaced by an authority that made your stomach flip. he stared down at your dripping face with absolute satisfaction. "taste exactly what that smart mouth of yours earned you.. ‘cus next time you even think about trying to be clever, it’s going to be twice as bad. understand?"
「 n. seishiro 」 - 1.8k
the only sound in the dimly lit bedroom was the aggressive, rhythmic clicking of nagi’s controller. he was slumped back against the headboard, his long legs tangled in the sheets, gray eyes locked onto the glowing tv screen. you had been trying to get his attention for the past hour, but all you got in return were low, non-committal hums.
fed up, you decided to take drastic measures. in one swift movement, you crawled across the mattress and threw yourself right onto his lap, blocking his view of the screen.
nagi didn’t even flinch. he just leaned his head to the side, trying to look around your shoulder to keep playing. "could you move please..? i'm in the middle of a match. it'd be troublesome if i lose."
"oh, i'll show you troublesome," you huffed, reaching down and snatching the controller straight out of his hands, tossing it onto the floor.
"hey…" nagi blinked, his hands hovering for a second before dropping limply onto your thighs. he looked up at you, his heavy-lidded eyes full of mild annoyance. "that was mean. why are you being so high-maintenance today?"
you leaned down, bringing your face inches from his, a defiant smirk playing on your lips. "because i'm tired of competing with a screen, and honestly… if your attention span is going to be this short? i guess it perfectly matches your short dick. ~"
the bedroom went dead silent. well, almost. the only sound left in the space was the faint, tinny audio echoing from the tv; the ambient noise of a digital crowd cheering for a character standing abandoned.
"you're really brave saying something like that while sitting right on my lap," nagi murmured, his chest pressed flush against yours.
you pulled back just a bit, still wearing that pretty smirk. keeping your eyes locked onto his darkening gaze, you licked your lips and deliberately pulled your shirt up over your breasts, baring yourself to him. you grabbed his large hands, guiding them up to cup your tits. he didn't pull away. instead, his long fingers sank into your skin, slowly squeezing and caressing you with a possessive grip that made your toes curl.
after a few seconds, his touch became hyper-focused. both of his thumbs moved up, pressing into your hardening nipples, circling each slowly, unhurriedly—testing the weight, applying just the right amount of friction, like he was using the joysticks on a controller.
a frayed gasp escaped your throat at the sensation, your hips shifting and grinding against him, slicking your underwear in the process. nagi let out a low, satisfied hum, his thumbs flicking over your sensitive peaks again. but instead of letting go, his grip tightened. his digits pinched your nipples, and with a faint smirk, he gave a firm, downward tug.
a high, breathless whine escaped you. nagi pulled you down slightly by your tits, his heavy-lidded eyes tracking the flush creeping up your chest, looking entirely pleased with the sound he'd just pulled out of you.
"you’re whining already..," he murmured, his voice a soft rasp against your ear. he circled your aching nipples again. “so, what is it that you actually want? you went through all the trouble of interrupting my game… tell me what you want me to play with instead…"
the heavy ridge of his cock was pressing right between your thighs, hard enough that you could feel the twitch of it. it was impossible to ignore just how eager he actually was to play this new game.
"say it," nagi whispered, his teeth lightly grazing your earlobe, large hands squeezing your tits again. "tell me what you want."
—true to his nature, nagi was letting you do all the heavy lifting at first. he was flat on his back, favorite hoodie pulled up over his head so that the fabric cast a shadow over his gray eyes.
occasionally, he’d look down from your eyes and onto your core, warm and wet against him each time you ground down. his positioning hit your sweet spot perfectly.
your hands were over your own body, playing with your breasts just as he did a while ago, your head tilted back as you rolled your hips against him in a slow tempo. because he was lying still, you were in total control, using his sizable cock to chase your own release. every down-stroke had you taking him to the absolute hilt, needy whines escaping your lips every time you felt him bottom out.
nagi didn’t move a muscle to help, but his eyes never left your face from beneath the rim of his hood. his breath was coming out in hot, short grunts, his hands resting loosely on your thighs, just watching you use him to make yourself cum. "ohh… mnh~…nagi~”
the ache in your lower stomach grew tighter and tighter until, with one final downward grind, your walls clamped around him tightly. a broken cry escaped your lips as your orgasm hit you in intense, rolling waves.
you collapsed forward, trembling as you tried to catch your breath. but the second your climax began to fade, his passive demeanor vanished.
before you could even think about rolling off him, his hands snapped up from your thighs, clamping around your waist.
"my turn," an abrasive growl came from beneath his hood.
suddenly, nagi bucked his hips upward, driving himself into your overstimulated folds with a force that made your eyes roll back. you let out a breathless, broken shriek. he didn't give you a second to recover. locking you in place with his grip on your waist, he began slamming up into you from below—totally unexpected from your usually laid-back boyfriend.
"oh god!… i can't brea—… nnnn—agiii!"
nagi let out a ragged groan, the sound trapped in his chest as his jaw clenched tightly. he was fighting like hell to keep his own noises in, but the sheer tightness of you wrapping around him was pushing him to his absolute limit. his large hands tightened around your hips, pulling you down in time as he thrust upward.
"…. keep it down," nagi muttered against your ear, voice hoarse and throaty, making you shiver. his breath jerked as he drove into you again and again, silenced moans slipping past his lips. "you're being way too loud… someone's gonna hear you."
you couldn't help it. another gasp escaped you, burying your face into the crook of his neck as your body trembled, a second climax already building before you'd even recovered from the first one. you were spent, panting heavily, mouth open against the thick fabric of his jacket. he felt the wetness soaking through the shoulder of his clothes.
"oh..woah..." he murmured, a low growl vibrating through his chest as he drove up another deep thrust. "you're completely losing it. look at the mess you're making… getting drool all over my favorite hoodie." you swallowed hard, trying to speak. “you’re—nnh!..you’re too fast~!”
he tilted his head down, his lips brushing against your flushed cheek, hips unyielding as he plowed you from below. "don’t wanna slow down… you’re just gonna be mean again if i do..”
your brain felt like it was melting right out of your ears, reduced to nothing but static as nagi kept up that brutal pace. everything felt too good. you were already so wet, clit pulsating so violently from the constant friction that every single time he bottomed out inside you, it sent a shockwave of pleasure straight up your spine. your thighs were shaking so badly you could barely keep your balance, fingers clawing desperately into the fabric of his hoodie just to stay upright.
"n-nagi—ah! no, wait, please—nghn!" you sobbed out, voice breaking. you tried to lift your hips, tried to escape the sheer intensity of it, but his hands on your waist just tightened even more. he wouldn't let you back up even a millimeter.
"… mnh—shut up [Name].," he murmured, his voice thick and entirely breathless now. he pulled his hood up just enough for you to see the blown-out look in his eyes; he was entirely consumed by you. "don't run..mnn” nagi leaned his head back, flush to the pillow, and groaned softly. “…take it, take it, take it..guh—take it—!"
he changed angles slightly, driving upward; the perfect curve of his shaft clipped your g-spot dead-on.
"oh my god—ah!—stop you’re—nnhgonna make me—!"
that single thrust shattered what little defense you had left. your walls instantly went into chaotic spasms, clamping down on him so hard that nagi let out a stifled groan. his balls drew up tight as he spilled inside you, his hands caressing your waist just as your second orgasm hit like a freight train.
it was too much. you were crying out quiet sobs against his neck, your body locked up as blinding pleasure crashed over you. you were twitching helplessly above him, thighs beginning to burn.
you collapsed forward, forehead resting heavily against his shoulder as your lids grew heavy, your body still twitching from the aftershocks. you thought it was over. thought he was finally going to let you collapse and sleep.
but nagi wasn't done. not even close.
before you could even sigh, he let out a heavy grunt and rolled his weight over, effortlessly flipping you onto your back beneath him. the sudden shift made the room spin.
he didn't give you an inch of space. he planted his forearms on either side of your head, using his broad shoulders to cage you beneath him. his heavy chest pressed against your softer one, trapping your frantic heartbeats together and pinning you flat into the mattress, his dick still nestled deep inside you.
"one more," he whispered.
"n-no nonono—i can't…, i can't—!"
nagi began moving, keeping that relentless pace from before, driving into your overstimulated center with a steady rhythm that made your vision blur. your skin felt numb from every thrust, sending sparks across your vision. you tried to speak, tried to beg him to stop, but your words were barely even words anymore; just broken, slurred fragments caught in the back of your throat.
"n-ngah… naaagi… a-ahh…" you choked out, your head tossing weakly against the pillow. your fingers feebly clawed at the fabric of his hoodie, unable to find leverage. "p-ple… ease… nnng…~"
"i can't understand you," nagi murmured, his voice croaky right against your ear. his hot breath fanned over your damp skin, his chest bumping against yours with every deep shove. "speak up."
but you couldn't. another deep strike hit your most sensitive spot, and your voice strained, devolving into high, breathless wheezes and desperate, broken whines that matched the steady slam of his hips. you were entirely at the mercy of his terrifying stamina, trapped beneath his heavy frame as he single-handedly drove you toward a third orgasm.
「 b. shoei 」 - 4.8k
shoei barou’s apartment was less of a living space and more of a temple dedicated to the gods of order and symmetry. everything had a designated square inch of existence. the throw pillows were perpetually chopped, the kitchen counters gleamed like a surgical suite, and the laundry room was his sacred sanctuary.
which was exactly why you were currently standing in front of his high-tech washing machine, holding a damp piece of clothing, feeling a genuine wave of guilt. "shoei, babe? i...i'm so, so sorry," you called out, wincing as you held up a square of black fabric. it was supposed to be his favorite, limited-edition imported training shirt—the one he meticulously hung to dry on specific ergonomic hangers to preserve the shoulder seams.
instead, it looked like something a doll would wear. you had accidentally bumped the dial to high-heat tumble dry. hearing your tone, barou strode into the laundry nook. his imposing frame completely blocked the light in the hallway. his eyes dropped to the micro-shirt in your hands, and for a terrifying three seconds, he didn't breathe.
"oh, no," you started quickly, offering a soft, apologetic smile as you stepped toward him. "i didn't mean to! i know how much you love this one. let me buy you a replacement online right now, okay? my treat. i'll even pay for express shipping—"
"a replacement?" barou rumbled. he snatched the tiny shirt from your hands, his face contorting into an expression of pure outrage. "you think you can just buy your way out of this? that shirt was a limited run. discontinued last season."
he took a heavy, deliberate step toward you, looming so close you could smell the sharp scent of his expensive fabric softener. a prominent vein was practically throbbing out of his temple. your genuine guilt immediately began to sour into annoyance as his attitude took over.
"i have a system," he hissed, crossing his muscular arms as he began to lecture you like a misbehaving child. "a flawless three-step separation process. cold water only for dark synthetics. zero tumble dry. it's literally written on the laminated instruction card i stuck to the machine! but you’re just sloppy. undisciplined. a peasant who doesn't respect the laws of maintenance—"
"shoei—"
"no, you listen to me! you violated the sanctity of this household's routine," he went on, entirely running over your apology, his meticulous soul utterly combusting. "if you can't handle basic fabric care, you shouldn't be touching my wardrobe at all. you’re lucky i don’t ban you from the utility closet entirely—"
he was mid-gesture, preparing to launch into phase two of his lecture on proper detergent-to-water ratios, when your patience finally snapped. you let out a loud, deliberate sigh, crossing your arms and leaning back against the dryer.
"oh my god baby, breathe!" you cut in, rolling your eyes. "it’s a single t-shirt. you are so unbelievably uptight, it’s a miracle your jaw isn't permanently locked shut. seriously, you need to learn how to loosen up and just relax for once in your life. the world isn't going to end because of a little heat cycle."
barou gasped, genuinely offended. "a little heat cycle? it's the principle of—"
you calmly stepped right back into his space, completely cutting off his next tirade. plucking the micro-shirt right out of his iron grip, you held it up by the shoulders between two fingers. it dangled pathetically between you, looking utterly ridiculous against his broad chest. you looked at the tiny fabric. "relax, king," you said, your voice dripping with unbothered attitude. "....now it matches your pinkydick."
the silence that followed was deafening. barou’s jaw actually clicked shut. the absolute self-proclaimed king looked as if his brain had just short-circuited from pure shock. a dark, furious flush crept up his neck, his eyes narrowing. "what did you just say?" he said, his voice dropping. he stepped directly into your space, his large frame pinning you back against his perfectly organized linen shelf.
the way his torso hit yours felt less like a stumble and more like a physical shutdown. for a terrifying, beautiful two seconds, shoei barou—the absolute dictator of this apartment—simply ceased to function. the unmitigated audacity of the word 'pinkydick' escaping your mouth seemed to temporarily wipe his hard drive.
then, the color hit his face. it started at his throat, a dark crimson that rushed up to his jawline and flooded his ears. his chest heaved against yours, his breathing suddenly ragged and hot. "you," he growled, the syllable vibrating so hard against your ribs it felt like a physical strike. "you absolute... insolent..."
"what's the matter, king?" you teased, though your heart was drumming frantically against your ribs as his hands came down to grip the edge of the dryer on either side of your hips, effectively trapping you. "truth hurt?"
"shut up," he hissed. the vein in his forehead looked ready to burst. he didn't just look angry; he looked like someone who had just been handed trash instead of actual ice cream. "you think you're funny? you think you can stand in my house, destroy my property, and then insult my—" he choked on the word, utterly refusing to give it life.
instead, his eyes narrowed into something incredibly predatory. the rigid laundry coordinator vanished, swallowed whole by the dominant, ego-driven monster he usually kept reserved for the pitch.
"i'm going to make you swallow those words," he whispered, his voice dropping into a register that made your thighs instantly ache. "every single one of them."
before you could even process the threat, barou moved.
he completely uprooted you. his strong hands locked under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly off the dryer as if you weighed nothing at all. you let out a sharp gasp, your instinct forcing your legs to wrap tightly around his waist to keep from falling while your fingers dug into the heavy muscle of his shoulders.
the shrunken black t-shirt fluttered uselessly to the immaculate hardwood floor, completely forgotten now.
"shoei—!"
"shut your mouth," he growled, turning on his heel. he held you high against his chest, his grip so tight it was practically bruising as he strode out of the laundry nook. his steps were heavy, deliberate, and furious, echoing through the pristine hallway of his apartment. he marched straight down the corridor, his dark eyes locked onto yours for a split second before returning his gaze ahead.
"you want to talk about size?" barou muttered, his jaw clamped tight as he kicked his bedroom door open with enough force to make the frame rattle. "you want to talk about how i need to loosen up?"
he tossed you onto the center of his perfectly made, king-sized bed. the impact wasn't violent, but it was strong enough to knock the breath from your lungs, sending your hair sprawling across his crisp, hospital-cornered sheets.
before you could even scramble backward, barou was already hovering over the mattress. he reached down, tugging his tank top off over his head and tossing it aside. "you're going to learn some goddamn respect today," he promised, his voice dense and dripping with authority. "consider this your lesson in reparations."
barou didn’t waste a single second. the moment you hit the mattress, the fastidious housemate disappeared, replaced entirely by the predatory striker who ruled the pitch.
he came down over you like a shadow, his large frame pinning you flat against the crisp sheets. he didn't cover you completely with his weight—not yet—but his thighs bracketed your hips, locking you in place so effectively you couldn't have scrambled away even if you tried.
"look at me," he commanded. when you looked up, his dark eyes were burning, heavy-lidded and intensely focused on your face. he reached down, his hand wrapping firmly around both of your wrists, pinning them directly above your head into the mattress with effortless strength.
"you've got a lot of nerve running your mouth in my house," barou growled, leaning down until his hot breath brushed against your ear, making a violent shiver spike down your spine. "you ruin my clothes, you mock my rules, and then you have the audacity to lie about my size?"
he shifted his weight, deliberately pressing his lower body flush against yours. through the heavy fabric of his sweatpants, there was absolutely no mistaking the substantial mass pressing hard against your thigh. it was a blatant, overwhelming contradiction to your joke, and he knew it. "does this feel like a joke to you?" he hissed, his jaw clenching as he nudged himself against you, asserting his physical dominance until a soft gasp caught in your throat. "tell me. does it look small to you now, peasant?"
"shoei—"
"i didn't give you permission to speak," he cut you off, his grip on your wrists tightening just enough to remind you exactly who was in control. he brought his free hand up, his fingers tangling into your hair to tilt your head back, exposing the long line of your throat. "you wanted me to loosen up? you wanted to see what happens when the king stops holding back?"
an arrogant smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked down at your flushed face and your rapid, shallow breathing. he loved the effect he had on you, loved how he could completely melt your stubborn attitude.
"you're going to take every single bit of this," barou whispered against your skin, his lips brushing the sensitive spot right beneath your jaw before his teeth grazed over it in a bruising nip. "..and by the time i'm done breaking you in, you're going to beg me for a lecture on how to properly take care of my things. do you understand me?"
he didn't wait for a verbal answer. barou took your silence as the absolute surrender it was. "you think because i'm mad, i'm just going to rush through this?" he murmured, his voice a vibration against your skin. "no. the king doesn't scramble. i take exactly what’s mine, exactly how i want it."
with a swift, heavy movement, he gripped the hem of your shirt and pulled it up and over your head in one smooth motion, tossing it carelessly to the floor. your bra followed a second later, leaving you completely exposed to him. barou paused, his eyes darkening further as he looked down at you, tracking the rapid rise and fall of your breasts, the way your nipples were already tightening under the sudden chill of the room—and the heat of his undivided attention.
"look at you," he rasped, calloused hands coming down to cup you, his fingers spreading wide to map your shape. he squeezed, firmly and deliberately, asserting his possession until a soft whimper escaped your lips. "...ruined my favorite shirt, and here you are, completely at my mercy. trembling for me."
he shifted his weight, burying his face directly into your cleavage. the contrast was staggering—the sharp scent of his laundry detergent mixing with the intoxicating scent of your skin. he nuzzled deeply between your breasts, his rough jawline pressing against the sensitive skin, making you arch your back with a breathy gasp.
"wait..." your voice hitched, your fingers tangling into his dark, loose hair, trying to pull him closer or push him away—you didn't even know anymore.
"i told you to stay quiet," he muttered against your skin, his hot breath sending goosebumps cascading down your stomach.
then, he went to work. barou used his broad chest to press you flat, using his hands to push your breasts together, creating a tight, deep cleavage. he began to drag his mouth up the swell of your skin, his tongue leaving wet trails in its wake—his licks were heavy, firm, and demanding, treating your body with the same intense, uncompromising focus he gave to everything else in his life.
he swirled his tongue around one aching nipple, teasing the very tip until you were writhing beneath him, your hips instinctively tilting up to meet his heavy frame. "please...~" you gasped out.
barou paused, lifting his head just enough to look down at you, a fiercely possessive look gleaming in his eyes. he deliberately leaned down and opened his mouth, drawing your nipple deep between his lips and sucking hard, a gravelly rumble vibrating from his throat as your hands clamped tightly onto his shoulders.
"that's it," he growled against your damp skin, his thumb rubbing bruising lines over your other breast. "know your place, peasant. you belong to the king."
his chest rose and fell hard against your sensitized skin. the wet, hot marks he’d left across your body were tingling in the cool air of the bedroom, but the real heat was entirely concentrated where his thighs were heavily bracketing your hips. just as you thought he was going to reach down and strip the rest of your clothes away, barou stopped.
an intensely smug look settled into his sharp features. slowly, deliberately, he reached down and grabbed your wrist. his grip was completely unyielding as he guided your hand down, past his chiseled stomach, and pressed your palm flat against the front of his sweatpants.
your breath caught in your throat. beneath the heavy cotton fabric, his length was already stretching the material taut as it throbbed heavily against your palm. it was thick, hard, and utterly massive.
"hold it," barou growled, his fingers tightening over the back of your hand, forcing you to curl your fingers around him, to feel the weight of his erection. "grip it." you let out a soft, shaky whimper, your face flushing a rich burgundy as you felt just how hot and stiff he was beneath your touch.
he leaned down until his lips were practically brushing yours, his ember eyes boring straight into your soul, demanding total submission. he squeezed your hand down over himself, making you stroke him through the fabric once, twice, three times.
"now tell me," barou whispered, his voice sinking into a deadly, mocking purr that made you ache. "look me in the eye and say it again."
"shoei..."
"i said, look at me," he commanded, his thumb pressing firmly into your wrist until your eyes locked onto his. he nudged his hips forward, burying the heavy ridge of his cock directly into your palm. "is this still a joke to you? is this still a 'pinky'dick, peasant?"
"no," you choked out, your voice trembling as your fingers instinctively tightened around him. "n-no, it's... it's huge, shoei."
"louder," he demanded, an arrogant smirk finally cutting through his anger as he heard your compliance. he leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning over your lips. "tell the king exactly what you're holding."
"it's huge," you breathed, completely undone by the dominance radiating off him. "you're huge..."
"damn right," barou growled, his restraint finally snapping.
he didn't waste another second. with a swift move, his hands slid down to the waistband of your remaining clothes, stripping them away along with his own sweatpants in one rough, efficient motion. finally, he was completely bare above you—defined muscles casting a literal shadow over your lap, and a size that looked lethal in the dim light of the bedroom.
you swallowed hard, your thighs instinctively trying to press together at the sight of him. but barou wasn't having it. "open," he commanded, hands gripping your knees and forcing your legs wide apart, settling his weight directly between your thighs.
you braced yourself, expecting him to just take what he wanted right then and there to satisfy his bruised ego. instead, barou let out an irritated huff through his nose, his sharp eyes scanning your face and down to where you were tightly coiled beneath him. he was still pissed, his jaw still tight with lingering outrage from the laundry room, but as his gaze drifted lower, his perfectionist streak took over.
he wasn't going to be reckless. he wasn't going to be sloppy; if he was going to break you in, it was going to be done with absolute, unyielding precision. "you're tense," he muttered. "look at you. tearing up my wardrobe, running your mouth, and you're not even ready for me yet."
"shoei, i—"
"shut up and breathe," he ordered, his tone clipping your words short. before you could protest, his long fingers brushed against your sensitive slit. you let out a sharp gasp, your hips jerking off the mattress as his thumb found your clit, applying a firm pressure that instantly made your vision blur. he didn't stroke you gently; his movements were demanding and methodical.
barou watched your face like a hawk, his dark eyes tracking every twitch of your eyebrows, every labored breath that slipped past your lips. slowly, deliberately, he slid one thick finger inside you. the sudden stretch made a whimper catch in your throat. he was so big, even his fingers felt overwhelming, stretching you open slowly.
"fuck— wait, please" you whined, your hands locking onto his forearms as he began to pace his finger inside you, curling it deliberately to hook against your sweetest spot.
"i told you to breathe," he rumbled, leaning down. he added a second finger, ruthlessly stretching your walls, forcing your body to accommodate it. he was still annoyed—you could feel it in the rigid set of his shoulders—but the way his fingers were working you, heavy and deep, ensured you were turning into a dripping mess beneath him. "i do things right. always. you're going to be perfectly soft, perfectly wet, and then i'm going to take exactly what i'm owed."
he slicked his fingers deep one last time, stretching you until you were arching off the crisp sheets, entirely undone by the friction. he pulled his hand away with a wet sound, hovering over you, his eyes burning down into yours as he lined his throbbing length directly against your aching hole.
"now," barou whispered, his chest heaving as he gripped your hips, bracing himself. "let's see you call me small again."
he didn't rush to sink into you. instead, he settled his massive weight directly over your lap, his muscular thighs pinning yours wide apart as he braced his hands on either side of your head. he leaned back just enough to look down, his eyes heavy with a mix of lingering irritation and possessiveness. a gravelly exhale escaped his parted lips as he relished the sight.
the contrast was absolute perfection.
your soft thighs looked incredibly delicate gripped beneath his calloused hands. your chest was still heaving, decorated with the wet, flushed marks of his mouth, and your pusst was visibly glistening, dripping with the slickness his fingers had just forced out of you. against his imposing frame—built entirely of hard muscle, sharp angles, and overwhelming power—you looked beautifully ruined, small, and completely at his mercy.
he reached down, his large thumb dragging firmly over your hip bone, leaving a bright red mark against your skin. "so small. so soft. you’re completely swallowed up by my bed, screaming for me after running your mouth."
"shoei..." you whimpered, your fingers helplessly digging into the crisp sheets, your hips tilting upward in a desperate, instinctive invitation. the slow wait was driving you insane.
"quiet," he muttered, though there was no real bite to it anymore—just the raw authority of a king claiming his prize. he shifted forward, the thick head of his cock nudging deliberately against you. "you wanted to see what happens when i loosen up? look at what you’re about to take."
he paused for a bit, letting you feel the girth of him stretching you before he began to push the rest of him inside. he wanted you to understand exactly how wrong you had been in the laundry room. he wanted you to feel the undeniable difference in your sizes. how nothing about him was 'small'.
"you’re pretty like this," his jaw clenching as his gaze locked onto your eyes, burning with intent. "perfect and compliant for the king. now, hold onto me." he didn’t give you any more time to prepare. bracing his full weight over you, barou gripped your hips tightly and drove himself inside in one deep thrust.
the sudden, overwhelming fullness stole the air right out of your lungs. your back arched completely off the bed, a breathless, broken cry echoing in the silence of his room as your body stretched to accommodate all of him.
"hngh—! shoei, fuck—wait!"
"i told you," he growled, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point. "the king doesn't wait. you wanted to play games in my house? this is the consequence."
he pulled back almost entirely, letting the cool air hit you for a fraction of a second before plunging right back in, deeper this time, hips slamming flush against yours with heavy, wet slaps. the friction was instant and intense, waves of pleasure shattering whatever remaining attitude you had left.
"slow—ssslow down!" you sobbed out, your fingers digging desperately into the bunched muscles of his back. he was moving with terrifying precision, striking against your sweetest spot with every single shove. "shoei, please, s'too much—"
"too much what?" barou demanded, his chest heaving as he pumped into you, completely dominating your senses. he lifted his head, his dark eyes burning down into yours with absolute triumph. "tell me exactly what it is. loudly."
"you're too big—you're too ...-so big," you cried, your legs trembling over his shoulders. the heavy, demanding weight of him was anchoring you to the mattress. "please baby... i'm sorry. i'm sorry about the shirt."
"the shirt?" he mocked. "i don't give a damn about the shirt anymore. look at you. look at how tight you're gripping me. who owns this body?" he drove in harder, delivering a brutal sequence of thrusts that had you writhing under him. "say it."
"y-you do," tears of pure pleasure pricking the corners of your eyes as his pace became a blur of friction and overwhelming heat. "you—ngh! you do~... fuck..please, i can't—"
"say my name," he commanded, jaw clenching as his own release began to threaten his iron-clad control. he slowed down just enough to deliver three agonizingly deep, grinding thrusts that stretched you to your absolute limit. "tell me who's breaking you in... breaking this pussy..."
"sh—shoei," you screamed softly, your hips lifting involuntarily. "please? give it to m—gimme~!"
"good girl," he growled, his grip on your waist tightening. "take it all, princess."
"tch, look how wet you are," his voice rough and thick with heat as he smeared your own slick over your clit with a heavy drag of his thumb. "running your mouth about my size while your body is literally begging to be stretched out by it. you're a needy little thing, aren't you?"
you screamed as he plunged back in, his hips crashing against yours with a loud, wet slap that echoed in the room. he didn't give you any time to catch your breath. he began to hammer into you with a raw downstroke, so deep and heavy it felt like he was branding his name directly into your cervix.
he groaned low as he felt the tight squeezing of your impending orgasm clamping down around him. he sped up, his thrusts turning brutal and shallow, relentlessly punching your oversensitive sweet spot until your vision went entirely blurry. "you haven't seen anything yet. i'm going to fill you so full of me you won't be able to walk straight tomorrow, let alone mess with my laundry."
with a guttural roar, barou slammed himself completely inside you, his whole body locking up as he came, pouring his hot release deep into your pulsing core while your own orgasm broke you beneath him.
the heat was still settling deep inside you when barou’s chest heaved, his breathing ragged but his eyes already snapping back into focus. he wasn't anywhere near finished. he leaned down, lips brushing your ear as his hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "you think one round buys you a pardon?" his voice dripped with insatiable hunger. "we're not done yet. not even close. i'm going to remind you exactly who rules this house."
—you were pressed face-down against the leather of his living room sofa. the throw pillows he always kept perfectly clean were scattered wildly on the floor. barou was behind you, his broad chest against your back, pinning you down with his weight. he gripped your hips, pulling you back against his re-erected dick and driving inside just as harshly as before.
"look at the mess you're making," he growled, his hand reaching around to cup your chin, forcing your head back so you had to watch your own reflection in the blank television screen—completely undone, dripping continuously on the sofa.
—your back was flat against the cold, hyper-polished marble counter, legs hooked over his broad shoulders again as he stood between them, fucking into you with a punishing tempo. the wet sounds of his hips slapping against yours echoed off the walls.
his hair was mussed, sweat dripping from his jawline onto your chest. every single thrust was deep enough to make your eyes roll, his hands locked onto the edge of the counter on either side of you, leaving smudges on the glass-smooth surface he usually obsessed over.
he had you pinned against the hallway wall, directly opposite the laundry nook where the whole fight had started. your arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, your waist locked in his iron grip as he held you airborne, driving up into you with heavy desperation. the tiny, shrunken black t-shirt was still lying on the floor right beneath you.
"look down," his voice an exhausted growl against your neck as his pace sped up even more. "look at the shirt and tell me what it matches now."
"nothing!" you cried out. "it-it doesn't—mmmatch anything ~!"
—you were completely broken. now, you were sitting on his lap as he straddled the leather bench-press machine, your legs draped weakly over his thighs. you couldn't even muster up enough strength to hold yourself up anymore. your forehead was slumped against his sweaty shoulder, your arms dangling uselessly over his back. you were riding him lazily, hips only moving because his hands were locked onto them, physically guiding your exhausted body up and down his still-hard cock.
"look at you," he murmured. he wasn't yelling anymore; the fury had long since burned out. "so lazy now. where'd all that attitude go?"
a weak, needy moan escaped your lips as he suddenly tilted your pelvis, his thumb rubbing firmly over your swollen clit as he pushed up deeper inside you. "shut up... stop i..i'm..~ mmm' tired..." you breathed against his skin, your lips brushing his neck.
"the king decides when we stop," he muttered, but the grip on your hips softened just a fraction. he picked up the pace, his thrusts turning into a slow, deliberate grind that stretched you out one last time. every movement was painfully deep, drawing out wet, pathetic little whimpers from the back of your throat.
he could feel your walls quivering, completely worn out, clinging to him out of sheer reflex. it was the ultimate surrender. his jaw clenched, his breathing hitching as his own final release rushed to the surface. "hold on," his hands tightening on your waist as he delivered three hard thrusts, burying himself to the absolute root.
you let out a high-pitched cry, your body tightening around him weakly as he shuddered beneath you. a low, guttural roar ripped from his chest as he came, heavy hands pinning your hips flush against his lap, holding you there as he poured his final, thicker nut deep inside you.
for a long time, the only sound in the gym was the ragged, synchronized breathing of two exhausted bodies. slowly, almost uncharacteristically gentle, barou’s hands slid from your waist to wrap around your back, pressing you firmly against his chest. he wouldn't admit it if his life depended on it, but the vulnerability of you slumped against him was doing something to his fiercely protective nature.
his head tilted down, lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the crown of your head, then another to your temple, and a final, surprisingly tender one to your cheek. he cleared his throat, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked at you, though he didn't push you off his lap. "don't get used to it," he grumbled, his voice returning to its usual authoritative clip, even if he was still holding you close.
he looked past your shoulder, gesturing toward the open door. "you realize what a disaster the rest of the place is now, right? the living room is wrecked. the kitchen counters are covered in smudges. the hallway is a mess."
you let out a weak groan, burying your face back into his neck. "we made that mess..."
what's this? : you– yes, you– decide to tag along with your bestest friends to a sketchy but famous street racing hub to give them your (unwilling) support
—
and somehow, somewhere along the way, you get yourself dragged into a lot of teen romance with one fine racer
genre : smau with written portions , blue lock + street racing au + fem! reader but it isnt mentioned alot anyways
pairing : street racer! itoshi sae x reader
chapter index 𐙚 (written chapters will have 🎸)
I. secret street
II. risky business 🎸
III. who dat in the back??
IV. [name] has game
V. nights like this 🎸
VI. ring ring ring
VII. roblox wit da goat?? 🎸
VIII. weird happenstances 🎸
TBA ! ! !
written by @httpstoshi | comment if you're interested in being in the tag list!
about. you work a dead-end job at a bank until one night a heist goes sideways. instead of knocking you out, one of the robbers—quiet, tall, and way too pretty under the mask—makes you a deal. you keep quiet, you get a cut. simple, right? except now you can’t stop thinking about him… and he clearly can’t stop thinking about you either.
pairings. Robber!Choso x Bank Teller!Reader
words. 11.52k
content. smut (mdni!!), gun involvement + forced entry (it’s a bank heist duh), rough sex, biting, gun kink / gunplay (non-lethal), size kink, face reveal kink, power dynamics, dirty talk, humiliation but funny, criminal activity (obviously), and adult mentions everywhere. basically hot masked stranger holds you down, and you let him.
notes. well... hope you enjoy, i haven't read this FOR MYSELF but hey gon post it anyway because i loooveeee choso.
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting that sickly, too-white glow that made the whole bank feel like a fish tank. You sat behind the counter, your chin propped in your palm, eyes flicking between the clock on the wall and the lobby that had been dead for the past twenty minutes.
Five more until closing. Five minutes until you could leave this miserable, low-paying excuse for a job and collapse into bed.
But five minutes was still too long when your manager was watching you like a hawk. “Try to look alive, will you?” Mr. Carver’s voice grated from the far end of the counter. He was the kind of man who smelled faintly of stale coffee and had a way of making every sentence sound like an insult. “If a customer comes in and sees you slouched like that—”
“They’ll what?” you muttered, not looking up from the computer screen you weren’t even using.
“They’ll think we’re unprofessional. Which, frankly, you make too easy.” You bit your tongue. No point in arguing; you knew from experience that if you so much as breathed wrong, he’d write you up. He already hated you— not for anything you’d done, but because you weren’t one of his golden employees who laughed at his dry jokes and stayed late without pay. You just did your job, collected your check, and left. That was apparently a crime.
A low whistle broke the tension, and you didn’t even have to turn to know who it was. “Evening, sweetheart.” The security guard, Brent, leaned against the counter by your station, his posture casual but his eyes doing that slow up-and-down that made your skin crawl. “Place is dead tonight, huh? Guess it’s just you, me, and your pretty face keeping me awake.”
You forced a tight smile. “Almost closing time, Brent.” Which was your polite way of saying leave me alone.
But Brent was immune to hints. “Hey, when’s your shift end again? We could grab a drink, you know. Loosen you up after a long day.”
You swore you could feel Mr. Carver’s smug gaze on your back — he always seemed entertained by Brent’s flirting, like it was harmless fun instead of unwanted attention. Like you were the uptight one for not giggling back. You reached for a stack of deposit slips, shuffling them just to keep your hands busy. “I’m good. Got plans.”
Brent chuckled, low and persistent. “One day, you’re gonna run out of excuses.”
“Mm,” you hummed noncommittally, already tuning him out. Outside, the streetlights flickered on, their glow stretching long shadows across the empty sidewalk. Through the front windows, you could see the dark sky swallowing the city, the kind of quiet that always made you uneasy. Something about being in a nearly empty bank after dark… it felt like waiting for something to happen.
You just didn’t know yet that tonight, it would.
The clock finally hit closing time, and you were on your feet before the second hand finished its sweep. Your back cracked in protest as you stretched, muscles stiff from sitting too long in that same uncomfortable chair. Mr. Carver was already fussing over his briefcase, muttering under his breath about tomorrow’s paperwork, while Brent gave a lazy salute from his post near the door.
“Lock up tight, huh?” Brent said, flashing you a grin.
You didn’t bother answering — just slung your bag over your shoulder and made your way into the narrow staff lounge. The space smelled faintly of burnt coffee and cleaning chemicals, the kind of scent that clung to your clothes and hair no matter how quickly you left.
You headed for the old punch clock mounted on the wall, fumbling for your ID badge. The sooner you clocked out, the sooner you could step outside, breathe real air, and not have to hear your manager’s voice for another blessed twelve hours. You were just sliding the card into the reader when you heard it.
A sharp, muffled thud from somewhere out in the lobby. Followed by a grunt — low, pained — then a cut-off groan.
You froze. Your fingers hovered uselessly over the clock-in machine, heart stumbling in your chest. The sound hadn’t been loud enough to be an accident— not the clumsy clatter of someone dropping something heavy. This was… heavier. Denser. The kind of noise a body makes when it hits the floor.
Your first thought was Brent. Maybe he’d tripped, maybe— No. That was stupid. Brent was obnoxious, sure, but not clumsy. And the sound… it was too quick, too sudden. Like someone had been put down.
You strained to listen, breath caught in your throat. The hum of the fluorescent lights suddenly seemed louder, the walls pressing in.
Nothing.
No voices. No footsteps. Just the eerie kind of silence that makes your skin prickle— the kind you knew meant something. Slowly, you set your bag on the counter beside the clock. You weren’t sure if you were about to step into something dangerous… or if you already had.
Your hand was already on your bag again when the air shifted — that subtle change in pressure you only notice when you’re being watched.
Before you could even turn toward the door, a shape filled the frame.
Tall. Broad. A shadow at first, until the dim lounge light caught on black fabric — a tactical mask covering the lower half of his face. His hair was messy, falling into his eyes, dark strands loose and careless like he hadn’t even tried to tie it back. But his eyes…
They weren’t wild. They weren’t frantic like you’d expect from someone in the middle of a robbery. No, they were half-lidded, dark, almost… sleepy. And locked directly on you. Your gaze dropped, catching the sharp black tattoos curling over the column of his throat and the backs of his hands. The gloves he wore looked heavy, built for grip. This wasn’t some cheap stick-up — whoever he was, he’d done this before.
“A staff is back here,” he called, his voice low and deep, carrying into the lobby. It was casual, like he was letting someone know there was an extra carton of milk in the fridge, not another living person who could scream for help.
It hit you then. You were being robbed.
The realization sank hard in your gut, but it wasn’t the money you worried about — you could barely make rent with what you earned here. It was you. Your body. Your safety. You took an instinctive step back, every nerve in your body screaming to move, to do something.
“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” you started, your voice sharper than you intended. “You can have whatever the hell you want, just—”
“Not here for you,” he interrupted softly. It was almost disarming, the way he said it. Not defensive. Not threatening. Just… factual.
“Good,” you snapped, though your pulse was still hammering. “Then keep it that way.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t close the distance. Just stood there, his eyes steady on your face like he was memorizing it.
“What?” you barked after a beat. “Never seen someone pissed off before? You gonna stand there staring, or are you gonna do your little—whatever—robbery thing and get the hell out?”
His gaze flickered, just slightly, like you’d surprised him. And for some reason, that pissed you off more.
“Seriously,” you kept going, the fear twisting into adrenaline and spilling out as heat. “If you’re gonna kill me, do it quick, because I’ve had the worst day and I swear to God I don’t have the patience for some masked freak playing games.”
You expected anger. A shove. Something. Instead, his eyes softened. Not much — barely noticeable. But enough for you to catch it. Enough to make your breath hitch, because what the hell kind of robber looks at you like that? Like he’s stunned. Like maybe he forgot why he was here in the first place.
You shifted your weight, heart hammering, and made a break for the door.
Big fucking mistake.
You moved first.
A sharp inhale, then you lunged, shouldering past him with every ounce of momentum you had. But he was faster. A hand closed around your waist, the grip solid, gloved fingers digging just enough to make your ribs protest. You let out a startled shout, half-growl, half-scream, twisting hard in his hold.
“Let me go—!”
“Shh—” His voice was low, urgent, close enough that you felt the warmth of it at your ear. You weren’t listening. Your elbow shot back, connecting with something solid — his chest — and he barely grunted. That only made you thrash harder, nails clawing at the thick fabric of his sleeve, heels digging into the grimy linoleum.
“I said—let—go!” you snarled, your voice cracking under the strain.
He caught your wrist before you could take another swing. “Stop—”
“You stop!” You twisted again, trying to wrench free, but his other arm had already wrapped fully around your middle, dragging you flush to his body. The solid wall of his chest at your back made your breath hitch, though you refused to admit why.
“Calm down,” he murmured, as if that was the simplest thing in the world.
“Calm down?” you barked, still fighting him. “You’re in a mask—there’s a body out there—you expect me to—”
Your words cut off with a sharp gasp when he caught your other wrist mid-swipe. In one smooth motion, he pivoted, pressing you forward until your hips bumped the edge of the staff lounge table. You tried to kick back, but his legs bracketed yours, caging you in without crushing you.
“Quit it,” he said, still maddeningly calm, even as you bucked in his hold. “Get your hands off me!”
“You’re gonna get yourself hurt,” he warned, tightening his grip as you jerked. “I’m not here for you—”
“Then let me go!”
“—but I will hold you here if you don’t shut the hell up,” he finished, his tone dropping to something harder.
The fight in you spiked again, but every time you pulled, he countered, steering your arms behind your back until both wrists were pinned in one of his hands. The position left you bent over the table, your cheek mushed against the cool surface.
And that’s when you felt it.
The heat of him at your back. The unmistakable press of something hard against the curve of your ass — unintentional, maybe, but there all the same. You froze for a split second. He did too.
His breath caught, then he shifted like he was about to step back, but you twisted again, and the movement dragged you against him just enough to pull a low, quiet sound from his throat. Your pulse hammered. “You’re disgusting,” you spat over your shoulder, trying to mask the way your stomach was flipping.
“Wasn’t—” His jaw flexed. “Wasn’t tryin’ to—”
“Sure you weren’t.”
“Hey,” he snapped softly, leaning down until you could feel his breath against your ear, the mask brushing your cheek. “I said I’m not gonna hurt you. You need to believe that.”
“You think I’m just gonna—” You broke off with a startled hiss as his gloved fingers adjusted on your wrists, firm but not painful, holding you steady while your body still tried to wriggle free.
“Just breathe,” he urged, and though his voice was low, there was something almost pleading in it. “I don’t want you hurt. I just… need you quiet.”
“Quiet for what?” His silence was worse than an answer.
You yanked again, but the hold stayed firm, his chest pressed to your back, the solid weight of him keeping you pinned in place. Every shift, every attempt to pull away, only reminded you of the heat radiating from him — the steady heartbeat you could feel through his sternum, the way his breath kept hitching like he was as aware of the proximity as you were.
“You’re insane,” you muttered, but your voice had lost some of its bite.
“Maybe,” he said. And you hated the way his tone dipped, just enough to make it sound like he was smiling under the mask.
Your wrists were still locked behind your back, cheek pressed close to the cold table, Choso’s chest solid against your spine. You could feel every shift of his breathing, every twitch of his muscles when you tried to jerk free.
“Fucking let me go!” you shouted, thrashing again.
“Stop moving—”
“Stop touching me!”
“I’m trying not to—”
A sharp voice from the doorway cut in, “The fuck are you doing?”
Both of you froze.
You craned your neck just enough to see two more figures in black masks, both holding bags that were clearly stuffed to the brim with cash. One had a baseball bat, the other had a duffel slung over his shoulder.
The one with the bat was huge— not just tall, but built like the kind of man who could lift a safe by himself if he felt like it. His black hoodie was stretched tight across broad shoulders, and the sleeves were shoved up to reveal forearms roped with muscle, veins standing out like they had their own pulse. Dark hair stuck up in a messy, spiked disarray, and even under the mask, you could tell he was wearing that lazy, cocky grin that belonged to someone who enjoyed making people nervous.
The other guy— the one hauling the duffel— looked almost too put-together for this kind of work. His mask sat neatly over his face, and long black hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, not a single strand out of place despite the chaos. He carried himself with an easy, deliberate calm, like the weight of the bag didn’t even register, like he was here because he’d planned every second of it and nothing could throw him off.
The one with the bat let out a low whistle. “Choso… what the fuck am I looking at right now?”
“She was screaming,” Choso said quickly, not loosening his grip.
“Yeah, no shit,” Bat Guy scoffed. “Why didn’t you just knock her out like a normal person?”
You barked a bitter laugh. “Normal? Oh, so you do know you’re all fucking psychos—”
“Shut up,” the duffel guy snapped.
“She’s pretty,” Choso muttered, like it explained everything. There was a beat of silence.
“...Jesus fucking Christ,” Bat Guy said flatly. “We’re robbing a bank, not speed dating.”
“Look, I didn’t want to hurt her,” Choso mumbled, sounding almost defensive.
“That’s sweet,” you said, dripping sarcasm. “Now maybe you can sweetly let me the fuck go so I can call the cops—”
“Woman, if you don’t shut the hell up—” Duffel Guy stepped forward, but Choso shifted his weight, subtly keeping himself between you and the others.
“She’s fine,” Choso said firmly. “Fine? She’s loud.” Bat Guy pointed his bat at you. “Do something to shut her up before she wakes the whole goddamn city.”
“I will wake the whole goddamn city,” you shot back. “Hope you like prison food—”
“Oh my fucking god.” Duffel Guy rubbed his forehead. “Manager’s out cold, security’s tied up in the car, we’re basically done here. This is literally the easiest fucking robbery we’ve ever pulled, and you’re back here—” He gestured vaguely between you and Choso. “—playing grab-ass.”
“It’s not—” Choso started.
“It fucking looks like grab-ass,” Bat Guy said. “Let her go or knock her out, man, we don’t have time for your… thing.”
You twisted enough to glare up at Choso. “What thing, huh? You got a weird little hostage fetish? You wanna explain that to your boyfriends over there?”
“Boyfriends—?!” Bat Guy nearly choked. “You are lucky I’m not the one holding you right now.”
“You wouldn’t last thirty seconds,” you shot back.
Choso made a small sound— almost a laugh — before clearing his throat like he didn’t want to be caught enjoying himself. “I’m not gonna hurt her. I said that.
“We don’t need her hurt, we need her quiet,” Duffel Guy stressed.
“Yeah, well,” you snapped, “you should’ve thought of that before you busted into my shitty minimum-wage job and—”
“Oh my god,” Bat Guy groaned, turning to leave. “I’m going to the van. If she’s still yelling when I come back, I’m gagging her with the deposit slips.”
“Romantic,” you muttered. Choso’s grip finally loosened, just enough for you to shift upright, though he still kept your wrists in his hand like he wasn’t ready to let you bolt. His eyes— those dark, half-lidded ones— were still fixed on your face like you were some kind of puzzle he couldn’t stop staring at.
The two other men — Bat Guy and Duffel Guy — exchanged a look that said we’re so done with this shit and turned toward the door.
“We’ll be in the van,” Bat Guy said, jerking his chin at Choso. “Five minutes. If she’s still alive, great. If not… also great.”
“Don’t make me come back in here,” Duffel Guy added, calm but edged.
The door swung shut behind them, leaving you and Choso in a thick, tense silence. He finally spoke, his voice low but careful. “If I let you go… can you be quiet?”
You glared. “Depends. You gonna fuck off?”
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said, and for some reason, it didn’t sound like a line — it sounded like he actually meant it. “I just… need to talk.”
You narrowed your eyes, but his grip on your wrists eased. And the second you felt freedom— You launched at him. It was pure instinct: nails first, catching the side of his neck, then teeth, because apparently you’d gone fully feral. You got a solid bite in, and his grunt was half-pain, half-disbelief.
“The fuck!?” Next thing you knew, you were bent back over the staff table, a hand flat on the back of your neck, his weight pinning you in place. The sharp click of a gun’s safety being flicked off rang right by your ear.
“You bit me?” he demanded, voice low but vibrating with irritation.
“You grabbed me!” you snapped back, still wriggling even with his front pressed against your ass. “We’re even—”
“Even my ass,” he growled. “You think I’m just gonna let you chomp on me like some rabid—”
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” you cut in, because the gun barrel was suddenly feeling very real. He stayed there for a beat, chest rising and falling against your back, before finally exhaling hard. “Jesus Christ…” You could hear the scowl in his voice. “I was trying to be nice.”
“You call this nice?” you shot back, cheek still pressed to the table.
“Wasn’t gonna gag you,” he muttered. “That was my version of nice.”
“That’s a low fucking bar, dude.”
“Yeah, well,” he said, finally straightening but keeping one hand firm on your shoulder, “you bit me. So we’re lowering the bar even more now.”
Somewhere outside, Bat Guy’s voice carried faintly through the door. “Yo, Choso! You fall in love back there or what?!” Choso didn’t answer. But you felt the faintest twitch of a laugh through his hand before he shoved you gently — but firmly — back upright.
Choso’s hand was still firm on your shoulder, keeping you angled toward the table. “Alright,” he said finally, voice low but with that lazy drawl that made everything sound slower than it was. “Here’s the deal. You shut the fuck up… I’ll give you a cut.”
You blinked. “A… cut?”
“Money,” he clarified, like you were slow. “Cash. Your share of what we just pulled.” You scoffed, but your voice faltered. “And why the hell would I take dirty money from—”
He leaned in just enough for his voice to skim your ear. “Because I don’t think you like this job. And I don’t think you like these people. And I know for a fact they’re paying you shit.” Your lips parted, ready to deny it, but the truth hit you square in the chest. Barely scraping by. Crappy coworkers. Manager who hated you. Flirty guard you couldn’t stand. You thought of the rent due at the end of the week.
“...How much?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.
He chuckled under the mask. “Enough to make this dump the last place you ever have to clock in.” You hesitated — really hesitated — but your mind kept circling back to Mr. Carver’s smug face and Brent’s sleazy grin. Finally, you muttered, “...Fine.”
“Good girl,” he said, and for some reason, it didn’t sound patronizing — it sounded like approval. He finally stepped back, letting go of your wrists. You turned slowly, straightening your clothes, but your gaze snagged on his. Those eyes. Heavy-lidded, dark, like they’d been watching you this whole time and were still seeing way too much.
You tilted your head, crossing your arms. “Let me see your face.”
His brows lifted a fraction. “What for?” “I’m not making a deal with someone whose face I don’t know.” “That’s the point of the mask,” he said flatly.
He didn’t break eye contact as he hooked a gloved finger under the edge of his mask. The motion was slow, deliberate, like he was making you wait for it. Then, with a faint scrape of fabric against skin, he pulled it down.
Your breath stuttered. The first thing you noticed was his mouth— full, with the kind of shape that could turn sharp if he was pissed or lazy and soft if he wasn’t paying attention. The shadow of stubble traced along his jaw, cutting up to cheekbones that were criminal all on their own. His skin caught the dim light in a way that made you wonder what it would look like in daylight— or closer.
Your eyes followed the messy fall of his hair, dark strands curling against his temples, the rest spilling haphazardly down, like he’d shoved a mask on without bothering to fix it. The tattoos on his throat peeked higher now that the mask wasn’t hiding them, black lines curling against warm skin like they’d been meant to be seen.
And those eyes— heavy-lidded, dark brown with an almost amber sheen near the center— stayed locked on yours like there was no one else in the room, like you were the first thing he’d seen in years worth remembering.
You felt it low in your chest first — that uncomfortable, traitorous skip of your heartbeat. Then higher, crawling up your throat, heat settling under your skin. It wasn’t like he smiled at you or softened; it was the opposite. He just looked. Steady. Patient. And that made it worse.
“...Goddamn,” you muttered before you could stop yourself. His mouth tilted up, slow and deliberate. “Yeah?” You blinked, fighting the heat crawling up your neck. “I didn’t say it was a compliment.”
“Sure didn’t sound like an insult, either,” he murmured, and you hated — hated — how right he was.
He took a step closer — close enough that you had to tilt your head back to keep his eyes in view. And god, he was tall. You’d noticed before, but with no table between you now, it was ridiculous how much he could loom without even trying. He lifted one gloved fist, slow and deliberate, and tapped it lightly under your jaw. Not rough — just enough to tip your chin up another inch. A soft tsk clicked from behind his teeth, his mouth tugging into a grin that was all heat and trouble.
“See you soon, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice low enough that it skimmed warm down your spine. “Learn not to bite anyone.”
You swallowed, your pulse doing double-time, but before you could form a comeback, he was tugging the mask back up over his face. “...You’re welcome, by the way,” he added, adjusting it over his nose.
Your brows knit. “For what? For dry humping me into a table?”
The bastard chuckled — actually chuckled — the sound deep and warm. “No. For knocking the shit out of that cocky security guard who keeps flirting with you.”
Your mouth opened, then shut. “...You—”
“He won’t be bothering you again,” Choso cut in, already stepping back toward the door. And just like that, he was gone, leaving you in the staff lounge with your heart pounding, your wrists still faintly sore… and the most confusing mix of fury and something-you-refused-to-name thrumming under your skin.
You couldn’t stop replaying it in your head.
Not the robbery part — not the adrenaline, not the fear, not the fact that you’d been held against a table with a gun pressed to your neck.
No, your brain had chosen the insanity of realizing that the man robbing the very place you worked at… was hot. Stupidly hot. And instead of calling the cops the second he and his crew ran, you’d—what?—agreed to a deal? Lied for him? And now here you were, still riding the rush and grinning to yourself like an idiot.
You kept replaying it in your head like some fever dream.
Not the gun. Not the robbery.
Not even Choso bending you over the breakroom table to keep you from clawing his eyes out.
No — the real insane part was that you’d looked that man dead in his masked face and, instead of screaming for the cops, agreed to a goddamn deal.
Keep your mouth shut, get a cut of the take.
Which was why you were now sitting in a hard plastic chair at the police station, posture loose, eyes drooping just enough to sell “I got knocked the fuck out.” You kept pressing your fingers into the back of your head like it hurt — even though the only ache you had was a faint bruise on your hip where Choso had pinned you.
Across the room, Brent was slouched like a sulking teenager, ice pack pressed to his jaw. His right cheek was swollen, lip split. You didn’t have to try too hard not to feel bad.
And Mr. Carver — your manager — was pacing, all huffy in his cheap dress shirt like he’d been the one assaulted. “I told corporate she was trouble,” he muttered, loudly enough for the entire room to hear. “Always on her phone, always late—”
You bit your tongue. Hard. If you let one word slip right now, it’d be about him pocketing “extra” tips from the coin counter, and you weren’t trying to start that fire while the cops were still in earshot.
One of the officers slid into the chair opposite you, notepad ready. “Miss, can you tell us what happened tonight?”
You put on your best dazed blink. “Uh… I don’t… remember much. I was in the lounge, then I heard shouting. Next thing I know, someone’s grabbing me, and then—” You made a vague wave near your head. “Everything went dark.”
“So you were unconscious during the robbery?” You nodded, lowering your voice like it was hard to speak. “Yeah. Woke up after it was over. Brent was on the floor, and Mr. Carver was yelling.”
“That’s not what happened,” Brent piped up from across the room, voice muffled against the ice. “She was up the whole time. I saw her.”
You turned your head slow, letting your eyes narrow like you might bite him. “Oh, really, Brent? You saw me? You mean when your face was getting introduced to the tile floor? Or maybe when you were crying about your jaw?”
“I wasn’t crying—” “Looked like crying.” The officer cleared his throat, fighting a smile. “Miss, did the suspect say anything to you before you blacked out?”
“Uh…” Your mind flickered back to the heat of Choso’s breath in your ear, his hand locked around your wrists, the grin in his voice when he’d called you pretty girl. You swallowed. “No. Nothing I remember.”
Mr. Carver finally stopped pacing. “This is ridiculous. She’s lying. I know she saw their faces. She probably helped them.”
You let out a sharp laugh, leaning forward so your elbows hit the table. “Helped them? Carver, I make eight-fifty an hour and I can’t even get a lunch break without you breathing down my neck. If I wanted to help anyone, it’d be OSHA.”
The officer scribbled more notes, clearly amused, but kept the questions coming until you’d repeated the “I was unconscious” line enough times it sounded pathetic. Perfect. By the time they let you go, you knew the investigation would drag on. Carver would bitch about police check-ins, Brent would limp around like a war hero, and you’d smile through all of it. Because you weren’t fired. Yet. And even if you were, you had a payday coming that none of them could touch.
Bag. Secured.
The van smelled like sweat, leather, and that faint trace of gasoline that always clung to Toji’s jacket. Bills were spread across the bench seat like a green ocean, Suguru’s hands moving smooth and methodical as he counted, Toji leaning back with a cigarette hanging from his lips.
Choso was still leaning against the door, mask shoved up onto his head, neck throbbing where her teeth had sunk in. He hadn’t decided yet if he was pissed or impressed.
Toji flicked an ash into an empty fast food cup. “So,” he drawled, “you gonna explain why we didn’t have to knock out that girl in the staff room?”
Choso shrugged, keeping his eyes on the floor. “Made a deal with her.”
Suguru’s hands didn’t pause on the bills, but his eyebrow arched. “A deal.”
“Yeah. She keeps quiet, she gets a cut.”
There was a beat of silence, then Toji barked out a laugh that filled the van. “Jesus Christ, we’re getting swatted for sure. You realize if the cops bust in here ‘cause your little pretty girl got cold feet, I’m cuttin’ your dick off, right?”
Choso scowled. “She’s not—”
“She bit you, didn’t she?” Suguru said, smirking without looking up.
Toji slapped the dash, grinning wide. “Oh, she bit him. Look at him, sitting there like a kicked puppy. Our Choso, all whipped after one shift with Miss Bank Teller.”
Choso muttered, “She’s not a teller.”
“Doesn’t matter what she is,” Suguru said, voice silky. “What matters is you didn’t do what we usually do with witnesses, and now you’re making us partners with one.”
“She’s not gonna talk,” Choso said flatly.
Toji gave him a long, slow once-over and smirked. “Oh, I believe she won’t talk. Probably too busy thinking about how you bent her over the table.”
Choso’s jaw tightened. Suguru finally finished his stack and tossed it into the duffel. “You know what kills me? Out of all the banks in the city, you had to pick the one with the worst security. That guard—what’s his name? Brent?” He snorted. “One punch and the guy folded like a folding chair.”
Toji added, “Yeah, and the manager? Carver? I’ve seen Girl Scouts put up more of a fight. Only thing that man’s protecting is his stapler.”
They both laughed, Suguru leaning back with that lazy smile. “She’s too pretty for you, man. Way too pretty. If she had any sense, she’d be calling the cops right now instead of daydreaming about your sad, emo ass.” Choso just rolled his eyes, but his mind betrayed him — replaying the way she’d tilted her head at him, the spark in her eyes when she’d said, Let me see your face.
Suguru noticed the look and smirked. “Ohhh yeah. He’s done for.”
Toji grinned like a wolf. “Better hope she likes her cut, Choso. Otherwise, we’re all fucked.” Choso didn’t answer. He just pulled his mask back on and started loading mags, ignoring the heat crawling up his neck.
The slam of Carver’s office door still rang in your ears by the time you hit the sidewalk.
Fired. Not “let go,” not “downsized.” Flat-out, smug-as-fuck fired.
You could still see his smug little rat face, lips curling like he’d just done you a favor. “We can’t have employees who compromise security.” Compromise security, my ass. You were the one who got manhandled by a masked lunatic while Brent the Walking Boner took a nap on the tile, but sure — blame you.
You’d lasted exactly three seconds after he said it before you’d gone off. Every petty thing you’d been holding in for months came spilling out — about how he stole tip jar money, how he timed your bathroom breaks, how he smelled like burnt coffee and sad desperation. You called him a dickless control freak. Loud enough for the entire front lobby to hear.
Best three seconds of your week.
Now here you were, stomping down cracked pavement with your bag slung over one shoulder, muttering curses under your breath like a goddamn crazy person. The air was heavy — sticky with the end-of-summer heat and exhaust from passing cars — but it wasn’t the weather making your shoulders tight.
It was that feeling. The one where the back of your neck prickles like a live wire. The one that says something is just out of your peripheral vision.
You told yourself it was paranoia. That you were just still wired from unloading on Carver. That maybe you’d watched too many late-night crime docs where women get stalked in dark alleys.
But every step you took, you swore you heard another. Just a fraction behind yours. Soft. Unhurried. Your grip tightened on your bag strap, pulse climbing. You risked a glance over your shoulder — quick, casual, like you were just checking traffic.
And then your stomach dropped. Because there he was. Tall as hell. Broad enough to take up the whole damn sidewalk if he wanted. Hoodie up, shadowing his face — but not enough. Not enough to hide the sharp lines of his jaw or the messy fall of his hair spilling out over his forehead.
No mask this time.
And Jesus fucking Christ, he was still hot. Stupid hot. Like, can’t-even-be-mad-properly hot, which only made you more mad. Those same dark, half-lidded eyes locked on you like they had back in the bank — not frantic, not rushed. Just watching. Your chest tightened, but your brain? Your brain short-circuited straight to what the fuck. Because if the robbery had been a fever dream, this was the part where the fever came back twice as bad.
You stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Just stood there like six feet of unbothered trouble, hands in his hoodie pocket, that lazy slouch in his shoulders like he had all night to stare you down.
You turned fully toward him, chin high. “Well, well, well. Look who’s too pretty for prison.”
The corner of his mouth twitched — barely. “You kept your end of the deal.”
“Damn right I did,” you shot back. “I didn’t even tell the cops you breathe too loud, let alone that you bent me over a breakroom table.”
That almost-smile deepened, but he didn’t bite at the jab. “Which means I’m here to give you yours.”
You blinked. “My what?”
“Your cut.”
You actually laughed — loud enough that a couple walking by gave you side-eye. “You’re telling me you’re about to hand me a thick-ass load of dirty cash right here on the street, while I just got fired for ‘compromising security’? Yeah, that’s not suspicious at all.”
He just shrugged, eyes still pinned on you. “I said I’d pay you. I’m paying you.”
“Uh-huh.” You took a step closer, voice dripping smug. “C’mon. My apartment’s a block away. Unless you wanna risk handing me a fat stack where Karen-with-a-stroller can watch and call the cops.”
“You’re awful cocky for someone who was screaming in my ear a week ago,” he said, voice low enough to slide under your skin.
“Yeah, well,” you smirked, “you’re awful smug for someone who got bit like a chew toy.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, but there was heat in them — the same slow-burn heat that made your stomach twist back in the lounge. “You gonna keep running your mouth the whole walk?”
“Probably,” you said sweetly. “If you don’t like it, you can fuck off back to wherever you keep your robbery fan club.”
That earned you the tiniest huff of a laugh. He tipped his head, finally breaking eye contact just long enough to glance down the street, then back to you. “Lead the way, pretty girl.”
The words hit like they had no business hitting, but you just rolled your eyes and started walking. You didn’t have to look back to know he was following — you could feel him there, a solid, shadow-heavy presence eating up the space between you, every step making your pulse spike for reasons you’d rather chew glass than say out loud.
The lock clicked behind you, and you tossed your bag onto the couch like you hadn’t just let a wanted man into your shoebox apartment.
Choso stood in the doorway for a beat too long, eyes sweeping over the space — not in that judgmental “wow, you’re broke” way, but like he was memorizing it.
“You really just let me in,” he said finally, his voice rougher in the quiet.
You kicked off your shoes, shrugging like it was no big deal. “Yeah. Shocking, right?”
He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why trust me?”
That one hit sharper than you expected. You paused halfway to the kitchen, then turned to face him, expression flat. “Truth? I hated that job. Carver was two inches from making me commit a felony anyway. Losing it was the best thing that’s happened to me all month.”
One of his brows arched, slow. “That’s it?”
You tilted your head, lips twitching into a smirk. “You really think I’m gonna stand here and tell you you’re hot, so you can strut around with your ego bigger than your dick?”
Something dark flickered in his eyes — and you couldn’t tell if it was amusement or something more dangerous. “So you’re lying.”
“Obviously.” You stepped closer. One step, then another, until you were close enough to smell the faint smoke and something warmer clinging to his hoodie. “So, tell me…” Your voice dipped. “Why didn’t you knock me out that day? Would’ve been easier. Cleaner. I was screaming in your ear, remember?”
He didn’t look away. Didn’t even blink. “Thought about it.” His tone was low, almost conversational — but every word landed heavy. “But then you looked at me. Not the gun, not the mask. Me. Like you wanted to figure me out.”
Your breath caught, but he kept going, his gaze locked like he was pinning you in place.
“I’ve had people look at me scared, angry, ready to fight — never like that. You didn’t see what I was doing. You saw me. And for a second…” His jaw flexed. “For a second, I didn’t give a fuck about the money. Couldn’t stop staring. Couldn’t stop thinking about how you looked with your mouth open, ready to curse me out. How your voice sounded saying my name— and you didn’t even know it yet.”
You swallowed, pulse hammering in your throat.
His voice dropped further, just for you. “So no, I didn’t knock you out. I couldn’t. You were the only thing in that room I didn’t want to take by force.” The air felt thick enough to choke on.
Your chest rose and fell, each breath tighter than the last. The space between you felt like it was shrinking on its own, pulled taut like a wire ready to snap.
He hadn’t moved, but somehow he was everywhere— the smell of him, the weight of his stare, the memory of his hands locked around your wrists.
You didn’t think about it. You just stepped forward, closed the last few inches, and grabbed the front of his hoodie.
The first press of your mouth to his was nothing like you expected. It wasn’t desperate or messy — not at first. It was slow, firm, a deliberate claiming. He inhaled sharply against you, and you felt it, the way his chest expanded under your hands.
Then his own hands were on you. One came up to cradle the side of your jaw, the other sliding low to the small of your back, pulling you closer until your body molded against his. The kiss deepened, his lips parting just enough to drag his teeth over your bottom lip before he caught it between his, sucking once, slow enough to make your knees weaken.
You made a sound — low, involuntary — and it seemed to light him up. His fingers tightened at your waist, the heat in his body bleeding into yours.
“Fuck,” he murmured against your mouth, the word half a groan. “Knew you’d taste good.”
You shivered, tilting your head to chase his mouth as he kissed you again, harder this time. His tongue brushed yours, coaxing, teasing, until your nails were digging into the cotton of his hoodie.
When he broke for air, it was barely a breath before he leaned back in, kissing you like he’d been starving for it. You could feel him smiling against your lips, and it made you grab a fistful of his hair, yanking just enough to draw a sharp hiss from him.
“Shit,” he exhaled, his voice gravel. “Do that again.”
You did — twisting your fingers in those messy black strands, tugging him down to you. His hands slid lower, cupping your hips, his thumbs digging in through the fabric of your jeans as he guided you back toward the couch.
The backs of your knees hit the cushions and you fell into them, pulling him down with you. His weight covered yours, pressing you deep into the seat, his mouth never leaving yours except to trail heat along your jaw, down the side of your throat.
He bit once, gentle but enough to make your breath catch, then soothed the spot with his tongue. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he muttered, voice low and ragged against your skin.
Your hands roamed without thinking — over his back, down to the solid muscle under his hoodie, back up to his hair. He groaned into your neck when your nails grazed the base of his skull.
“Choso,” you breathed, and he shuddered like the sound of his name out of your mouth had physically hit him.
“Say it again,” he rasped, lips moving against your collarbone, his fingers already sliding under the hem of your shirt, skin to skin. “Say it like you mean it.”
You grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at you. His pupils were blown wide, his lips slick from kissing you raw. “I do mean it,” you said, your voice low and sure, before pulling him back down to kiss him until you forgot where you ended and he began.
You didn’t even remember moving. One second, you were kissing him like you meant to drink him down, the next, you were climbing into his lap.
Choso leaned back into the couch, wide legs spreading automatically to make room for you. His hands locked onto your hips, steadying you as you straddled him, your knees braced against the cushions on either side of his thighs.
The shift made your chest brush his, and his gaze flicked down immediately — not even pretending not to stare.
“Fuck…” His voice was low, almost reverent. “Been thinking about these since you yelled at me.”
That pulled a short laugh from you. “My tits?”
“Mhm.” His hands slid up your sides, slow but sure, until his thumbs skimmed the underside of your breasts through your shirt. “You were bent over that table, screaming in my face, and all I could think about was getting my hands on you like this.”
Your pulse kicked hard. “You’re insane.”
“Yeah,” he said, grinning up at you. “And you like it.”
Before you could bite back, he cupped you fully, big hands molding around you like he’d been waiting for this exact fit. His thumbs circled over your nipples through the fabric, teasing them into peaks until you bit your lip and arched just slightly into his touch.
“There she is,” he murmured, watching your face. “Knew you’d be soft. Knew you’d fill my hands perfect.”
You leaned down, kissing him again, slow and wet, while his palms kneaded at you like he couldn’t get enough. When he broke the kiss to mouth at your throat, you rolled your hips over his lap, dragging yourself over the solid line of him beneath his sweats.
He groaned into your skin, one hand slipping under your shirt without hesitation. The heat of his palm against your bare breast made you gasp, the contrast of his rough fingers against your softer skin shooting straight down your spine.
“Fuck, you’re warm,” he said, his thumb brushing over your nipple in a lazy circle before rolling it between his fingers. “You’re gonna kill me, you know that?”
You smirked, rocking your hips again, slower this time, making sure he felt every inch of you against him. “Maybe that’s the plan.”
“Not before I get my mouth on you,” he shot back, tugging your shirt up just enough to bare you to the cool air. His gaze locked on your chest like it was the only thing in the room worth looking at. “Jesus, look at you…”
His head dipped, and when his mouth closed around your nipple, you let out a sharp, startled moan. He sucked hard, tongue flicking, while one hand kept working the other breast, pinching and rolling until you were squirming in his lap.
“You like that?” he asked against your skin, voice vibrating over your breast. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. “Shut up and keep going.”
He did — switching to the other side, biting just enough to make you gasp before soothing the sting with his tongue. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing, pulling you tighter against the thick heat pressing up into you.
“God, you were so fucking wild that night,” he said, kissing up your chest to your collarbone. “Thrashing, swearing at me, and all I could think was how good you’d feel if you were moving on me like this instead.”
Your hips ground down harder at his words, and his grip on you tightened like he was holding himself back. “Careful,” he warned, voice low. “Keep that up and I’m not stopping.”
Your hips set the rhythm first.
Slow at the start, just enough for your clothed core to drag over the thick length straining against his sweats. The friction was dizzying — denim on cotton, heat building with every pass.
Choso’s head fell back against the couch, his eyes half-lidded but locked on your body as you rolled over him. “F-fuck… ngh—” His breath stuttered when you rocked down a little harder, and his fingers dug into your hips like he was trying to fuse you there.
You leaned forward, letting your breasts press into his chest, your mouth brushing his ear. “That sound you just made? Keep doing that.”
He groaned, low and rough, but it cracked halfway through. “Ah— fuck, you’re— ngh—” His head tipped back further, exposing his throat to you, and that’s when you saw it.
A faint purple bloom on the side of his neck. Right where your teeth had sunk in earlier.
You grinned. “Is that my bite mark?”
His gaze flicked to you, dark and half-guilty. “…Maybe.”
You slowed your grind to a lazy, deliberate roll, your hand coming up to cup his jaw. “You like walking around with that? Letting people know I put it there?”
His lips parted, his breath shivering out. “Yeah… I— ah— ngh— fuck, yeah.”
That little confession made something hot coil in your belly. You picked up the pace, grinding harder, dragging your clit over him through the layers of fabric. He met you halfway, hips lifting in short, sharp thrusts that made you gasp.
The room was filled with it now — the rough drag of clothes, the wet little sounds building between your thighs, the way Choso’s moans broke every time you found just the right angle.
“Shit— ngh— keep— keep going,” he rasped, one hand slipping up under your shirt to palm your breast while the other stayed locked on your ass, pulling you down into every thrust. His thumb brushed over your nipple and you jolted, the movement grinding you right over the thickest part of him.
His head tipped forward for a moment, mouth dragging over the top of your chest, sucking marks into your skin like he couldn’t help himself. “You’re— ah— fuck— you’re killing me.”
“You’re the one whining,” you teased, rolling your hips in a figure-eight that made his breath hitch.
“’Cause— ngh— you feel so fuckin’ good,” he admitted, voice wrecked. His thighs tensed under you as he snapped his hips up, his cock pressing hard against you through his sweats. “Keep— ah— just like that, please—”
The “please” was what got you.
You tangled your fingers in his hair and yanked, making him groan deep in his chest. “God, you’re a loser,” you breathed, and you felt him shudder under you. “Letting me use you like this.”
“Y-yeah,” he panted, hips stuttering. “Only you— ah— mm— only wanna be your loser.”
Your mouths crash again, messy and hot, teeth clacking until he groans into you. His tongue slips past your lips and it’s all spit and desperation, his big hands roaming—squeezing your tits, palming your ass, tugging at your shirt like he can’t get enough of touching you everywhere at once.
You slide a hand down his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his rapid breathing. The sweat-damp fabric of his hoodie clings to him, and when your fingers toy with the waistband of his sweats, his hips jerk up into your palm like instinct.
“Fuck— ngh—” he mutters against your mouth. You smirk, pulling back to look at him properly. His cheeks are flushed, lips kiss-swollen, eyes heavy with lust. He’s so gone.
“You want it that bad, Choso?” you tease, tugging at the drawstring.
He groans, tipping his head back against the couch. “Don’t— ngh— don’t fuckin’ tease me right now.” Then his gaze cuts back down at you, sharp, hungry. His thumb drags across your lower lip, pulling it down. “Get on your knees for me. Wanna see that pretty mouth wrapped around me.”
The way he says it—low, commanding, but almost trembling with need—has you sliding off his lap without a second thought. You sink to the floor between his knees, hands running up the inside of his thighs until you hook your fingers into his waistband.
“Pants off,” you murmur.
He lifts his hips obligingly, helping you drag his sweats and boxers down in one go. The moment his cock springs free, your breath catches.
“Holy shit…”
It’s big. Too big. Thick and heavy, flushed at the tip, veins running all the way up the shaft. It smacks against his stomach as it springs out, precum already smearing his skin. Your mouth goes dry.
Choso watches your expression and lets out this smug, breathless laugh. “Yeah? That big, huh?”
You swallow, eyes glued to it. “You’re— fuck, you’re huge.”
His hand cups the back of your head, guiding you closer. “Pretty little thing, already starin’ like it’s gonna break you.” His voice drops, rough and teasing. “But you’re gonna take it, right? Gonna make me disappear down that throat?”
Your thighs squeeze together at his words. You lick your lips, finally wrapping your hand around the base. He hisses instantly, his hips twitching.
“God— your hand looks tiny on me,” he groans, watching the way your fingers don’t even meet around him. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
You give him a slow stroke, precum smearing under your thumb. He’s thick enough that your jaw aches just imagining it.
“You’re gonna split me in half with this,” you mutter, leaning closer to drag your tongue over the tip. The taste of salt and heat blooms on your tongue.
Choso’s groan rattles out of his chest, his head falling back against the couch. “Ah— fuck— don’t say shit like that, I’ll lose it.”
You swirl your tongue around the head before pulling back just enough to murmur, “Lose it for me.” The sound he makes when you take him into your mouth—messy, broken, needy—is almost better than the weight of his cock stretching your lips. Your lips part wider, tongue flattening against his cock as you inch further down. He’s so thick you can feel your jaw protesting, spit pooling instantly and dribbling down your chin. You’ve barely swallowed half of him and already your throat flutters helplessly around the intrusion.
“Fuck— look at you,” Choso groans, fist curling in your hair as he keeps his eyes pinned on the sight of your lips stretched around his cock. His chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths, sweat beading at his temple. “I knew it. First second I saw you in that room—sittin’ there all sweet—fuck, I knew I was gonna end up here. With this mouth chokin’ on me.”
The filth makes your stomach clench. You gag softly when you push down further, throat spasming around him. He hisses through his teeth, thighs tensing under your palms.
“Yeah—just like that. Let me feel you struggle on it.” His voice drops to a ragged whisper, but his hips betray him, jerking upward. Suddenly the thick head is pressing deeper, forcing past your gag reflex. Tears spring at the corners of your eyes.
He groans low, eyes fluttering shut. “Goddamn—your throat’s so fucking tight. Can’t—shit, can’t stop myself.” You claw at his thighs, spit soaking your chin and dripping to your chest. The sound is obscene: messy gulps, wet slurps, the slick slide of his cock down your throat. He’s fucking you raw like he can’t hold back another second.
“You hear that?” he rasps, voice breaking. “That’s your throat takin’ it. All for me. Jesus, I’ve been thinkin’ about this—ever since I saw you smilin’ in that dress. Thought about draggin’ you somewhere dark and just—fuck—ruin this mouth.”
Your eyes roll up to look at him, watery and desperate, and that’s what finally shatters him.
“Don’t—don’t look at me like that,” he groans, pushing your head further down until your nose is flush against his pelvis. You gag, choking around the sheer size, throat convulsing. He throws his head back, a guttural moan ripping from his chest. “Oh, fuck yes. You’re killin’ me, baby. Throat’s squeezin’ me like a damn fist.”
His hips stutter, rutting sharp and fast, using your throat like it’s the only thing that’ll save him. His thighs tremble under your hands, his grip in your hair tightening until your scalp burns.
“I should stop—fuck—I should stop but I can’t,” he pants, voice breaking into a rough, feral groan. “Been wantin’ this—been dreamin’ about this. Pretty little mouth takin’ me like a cockslut. You love this shit, don’t you?”
Your muffled moan vibrates around him, and he damn near sobs, hips bucking deeper.
“Shit—shit—don’t do that—don’t—fuck—” he growls, pulling your head down hard as he ruts into you with reckless abandon, lost to the feeling. Your throat aches, spit dripping messily over your knuckles, but his filthy groans and the way his abs tighten above you make it worth every gag. Your throat flexes helplessly around him, slick and raw, spit bubbling past your lips with every brutal rut of his hips. You’re crying now, tears streaming down your cheeks, but the look in your eyes when you peer up at him makes Choso growl like an animal.
“Fuck—fuck, baby—don’t look at me while I’m doin’ this to you,” he pants, voice breaking as his abs clench. His cock twitches deep in your throat, heavy veins dragging against your raw walls. “You’ll make me—shit—you’ll make me cum faster—”
You gag when he pushes down harder, the swollen head bruising your throat. Your nose is buried against his pubic bone, lips stretched wide and wet. You’re choking on him, but you moan around it—moan like you want him to ruin you. And he just snaps.
“God damn it—” Choso’s voice cracks into a desperate growl, his hips jerking with ragged force. “Been thinkin’ about this mouth since the second I laid eyes on you. Couldn’t get the image outta my head. Knew you’d look so fucking pretty choking on me.”
Your gagging becomes sloppy, loud, spit spilling down your chin, soaking your throat and chest. The sound of it drives him insane. His grip in your hair shakes with how hard he’s holding you.
“Ahhh—fuck, I’m gonna cum—gonna fuckin’ cum down your throat, baby,” he moans, throwing his head back. His eyes screw shut, jaw clenched so hard it aches. “Take it. Take every drop—lemme ruin you like I’ve been wantin’.”
His cock throbs violently, then he’s spilling—hot, thick ropes of cum shooting down your throat. He groans raggedly, whole body trembling as he fucks into you through it, rutting shallowly to milk every drop.
“Yesss—fuck yes—swallow it, don’t waste a single fuckin’ drop,” he grits out, chest heaving as he watches your throat bob around him. “You’re mine now. My perfect slut.”
The mess is obscene. His cum leaks past your lips, dribbles from the corners of your mouth, streaks down your chin to join the slick spit already painting your chest. Choso looks down at you—tear-streaked, throat raw, face a ruined mess—and his cock twitches again, still hard even as he softens. He groans low, almost a whine, pushing your head back just enough to let him slide free with a wet, sloppy pop. Strings of spit and cum cling to your swollen lips.
“Shit,” he breathes, voice hoarse. He cups your face with a trembling hand, thumb smearing the mess across your cheek. His eyes are blown wide, pupils dark with lust. “Look at you. Never seen anything so pretty. You don’t even know what you do to me.”
Then his thumb presses your bottom lip down, smearing more of his cum into your mouth as his cock twitches weakly. “Open up—yeah, just like that. Lemme see that tongue.” He groans when you do, messy and obedient, showing him everything you’ve swallowed. “Holy fuck. You’re perfect. Perfect.”
Your body is still twitching when Choso hauls you up, chest heaving, cock still standing hard and angry against his stomach. He doesn’t even look at it—his eyes are locked on you, pupils blown wide, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.
“Up here,” he rasps, dragging you into his lap before laying himself back on the couch.
You’re breathless, lips swollen. “Choso—what are you—”
He doesn’t answer. His hands hook into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down in one slow pull until they’re around your ankles. Your panties go with them—thin, soaked, sticking to your pussy as he peels them away.
“Fuck…” he mutters when the fabric clings before snapping off your skin. He lets the ruined underwear fall to the floor, staring at the wet patch like it’s a trophy. “You’ve been dripping for me all night, huh? Knew it.”
“Choso…” you murmur, shy, but your voice breaks when he spreads your thighs, dragging you higher up his chest.
He settles flat against the couch, hair splayed across the cushions, and grips your hips. “Sit,” he orders, dark and raw.
“Wait, you just—” Your protest dies in a sharp gasp because he yanks you down, nose pressing against your clit, tongue swiping a long, wet stripe through your folds.
“Fuck!” you cry out, hands flying to his hair for balance.
Choso groans into your pussy like it’s oxygen, his voice muffled. “Goddamn—so sweet—been wantin’ this since the second I saw you.” His hands flex hard on your thighs, nails digging crescents into your skin as he locks you in place.
You whimper, trying to wriggle back from the intensity. “Cho—it’s too much—”
“Shut up,” he growls against your cunt, spit dripping down his chin as his tongue plunges into you. “Don’t run from me. Stay fuckin’ still and let me eat.”
He’s everywhere—tongue lapping, sucking your clit, shaking his head like he wants to bury himself inside you. You can’t stop the choked cries ripping out of you, hips grinding helplessly against his face.
“Choso—oh god—ahhh—”
He moans like you’re feeding him, hips rutting up against nothing. He’s sloppy, messy, absolutely drunk on you—licking, sucking, groaning, spitting into your folds just to lap it back up.
“Cum for me,” he snarls, breaking only for a second to drag his tongue flat across your whole pussy. “Drown me, baby. I wanna choke on it.”
That’s all it takes—you shatter on his tongue, thighs clamping around his head as he growls and keeps licking through it, drinking down every drop, until you’re sobbing his name into the empty room. When you slump back, trembling and overstimulated, Choso drags his mouth off you with a filthy pop. His lips, chin, even his cheeks are wet with you, glistening under the dim light. He licks slow across his mouth, eyes blown out, cock still twitching hard against his stomach.
“You taste like fuckin’ heaven,” he rasps, voice ruined. Then he smirks, tugging you back down by the thighs. “And I’m not done.”
Your body is still twitching when Choso finally pulls back from between your thighs, lips and chin shiny with you. His chest heaves, hair damp with sweat, and yet his cock is still raging hard—angrier now, flushed to the tip, leaking against his stomach like it’s been aching for years.
You try to catch your breath, but he’s already dragging you down into the cushions of the couch. His big hands press into your thighs, urging you to lie back.
“C’mere,” he mutters, voice hoarse and needy.
You blink up at him, flushed and still trembling, but let him guide you down until your back sinks into the couch. He cages you in, bracing a forearm by your head, his other hand sliding beneath the hem of your shirt.
“Wait—” you start, voice shaky.
He doesn’t take it off—he just pushes it up, slow, baring your chest until your breasts spill free. The look on his face when they do is almost reverent.
“Fuckin’ knew they’d be perfect,” he whispers, eyes locked on the soft curves, pupils so wide you can barely see the brown. He leans down, kissing over the swell of one, then catching a nipple between his lips, sucking until you arch up with a gasp.
“Choso…” your voice breaks.
He smirks against your skin, kisses messy and wet across both breasts. “Love these, baby. Could stay here all night.” His teeth graze your nipple just enough to make you whine. But then he shifts—one hand sliding between your thighs, guiding himself down to your soaked entrance. The blunt head of his cock brushes your pussy and you jolt, body clenching around nothing.
“Cho—wait, you’re—” You glance down, eyes widening at the sheer size of him. Thick, flushed, dripping precum, the tip nudging against your folds and making your walls spasm already.
“I—I don’t think—”
“Shhh,” he coos, leaning in to kiss you soft, swallowing your protest. “You can take it, baby. You’re mine, yeah?”
You whimper into his mouth, nodding, but when he pushes the tip inside, your nails dig into his shoulders.
“Choso—ahh—it’s too much, too big—”
He groans deep in his chest, forehead pressing to yours. “Fuck—you’re so tight, so warm—baby, just a little more. I got you. I won’t hurt you.”
You shake your head, thighs trembling as he stretches you inch by inch. “It’s not fitting—”
“Yes it is,” he murmurs, kissing you again, slow and messy. “It’s yours. Just relax. Breathe for me, pretty girl.”
His hand strokes up your side, over your breast, thumb brushing your nipple while he rocks his hips, feeding you more of him.
Your body fights it, walls gripping him so tight he groans and has to still. “Fuuuck—you’re squeezing the life outta me.”
Tears prick your eyes at the stretch, and he catches them with kisses at the corners. “Don’t cry, baby. You’re doing so good. You’re taking me so fuckin’ good.” Your thighs twitch, back arching, and little by little, he pushes deeper until you’re half full of him. He pauses again, chest heaving.
“Halfway there,” he whispers against your lips, like it’s a promise. “You can take the rest. You’re perfect for me.” He kisses your jaw, your throat, your breasts again, every inch of you worshipped as he pushes slow, steady, filling you with another thick stretch. You moan, broken, clutching at him. “Choso—too much—”
He shushes you with another kiss, thumb circling your clit in soft, coaxing circles. “Just a little more, baby. I’ll make it feel so good. Let me all the way in. Wanna be inside you—every inch.”
Your body gives, walls fluttering around him as he sinks in deeper, until you’re gasping against his mouth, stretched so wide you swear you’ll split, but every kiss and every whisper keeps you grounded. Choso’s voice is a husky rasp in your ear, his cock buried nearly to the hilt. “See? Told you. You can take it. My pretty girl, made for me.”
When the last thick inch finally pushes in, your walls clamp down so hard around him Choso curses, head dropping to your neck.
“Fuuuuck—baby… I’m all the way in. You feel that? Took me so good.”
You’re whimpering, legs trembling where they cling around his waist. Your mind is hazy, nothing but stretch and fullness and the overwhelming heat of his body over yours.
Choso doesn’t give you long to adjust. He pulls back, dragging his cock out slow, and then slams forward again. The sound that rips from your throat is broken, helpless.
“Choso—!”
His hips snap into yours again, harder this time, the couch creaking under the force. Sweat drips from his temple onto your chest, and he kisses down your throat between every thrust, messy and desperate.
“God, I love this pussy,” he groans, hips rolling deep. “You’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ good, baby—made for me, yeah? Fuckin’ perfect for me.”
You can’t answer—your voice catches in half-formed cries every time he pounds into you. He smirks against your skin, licking sweat from your collarbone before sucking a mark just above your breast.
“Can’t even talk, huh? My dumb baby,” he pants, his words warm and sticky in your ear. “Dick got you all fucked out already.”
Your nails claw down his back, dragging over slick skin. He hisses but thrusts harder, faster, the slap of skin-on-skin echoing through the living room.
Your head lolls against the couch cushion, mouth falling open, drool slipping from the corner of your lips. Choso notices—of course he does—and his cock twitches inside you at the sight.
“Messy little thing,” he coos, kissing the saliva off your chin. “Look so cute when you’re gone like this. My pretty baby—love you like this.”
The sweat on his chest smears against your shirt where it’s bunched under your arms, his abs flexing with every brutal thrust. He pulls back enough to watch himself sink in and out of you, your slick coating his length.
“Fuck, look at that. You hear that?” He thrusts hard, sharp, making the squelch obscene. “That’s you. That’s how wet you are for me.”
You moan so loud it cracks, tears welling again, body arching up to meet him. Your pussy clamps down like it’s trying to pull him deeper, and he groans, nearly undone.
“Baby—shit—you’re gonna kill me. Feels too good.” His forehead presses to yours, his thrusts still rough, but his kisses are soft, clumsy, wet against your lips.
“Love you, baby,” he murmurs between thrusts, words slurring with pleasure. “Love this pussy. Can’t stop, don’t wanna stop.”
His hips slam faster, sharper, driving the air from your lungs, leaving you a babbling mess under him. Every thrust makes you squeal, whine, sob—until you can’t even think, can’t even speak, just claw at his slick back and let him use you.
Choso is dripping sweat now, hair sticking to his forehead, jaw slack with ecstasy. “So good, baby. You’re mine. All mine. Say it—say it’s mine.”
You choke on a moan, nodding frantically, and he rewards you with a punishing thrust that makes you see stars.
“That’s right,” he growls, kissing you sloppy, tongue pushing past your lips. “My pussy. My baby. Fuck, I love you.”
And he doesn’t stop—keeps fucking you like he’s starving, like the only thing keeping him alive is being buried inside you, messy and desperate and sweet all at once.
Hey can I request a Dante x fen reader where the reader was an assassin sent to kill Dante but then later on Dante ends up saving the reader and then she catches feelings for him?
Very cliche I know but still
Its ok if you don't end up doing my request lol
But if you do thank you :3
oke!
DANTE SPARDA X ASSASIN!FEM!READER
content: i suppose it's a lowkey fluff romantic thing? Oh and almost assasination attempt
The light posts shone your path as you walked across the lonely streets and alleys of Redgrave city, steady, looking for a certain face, your target's face. The Legendary devil hunter Dante Sparda.
You didn't even need to ask for more information regarding your next victim, who got offered a tempting amount of money for his death, everyone knew about him. Oh, the easy-going and very powerful devil hunter, always saving the day.
As for how were you going to actually get rid of such strong man, you suppossed you would wait and analyze the best strategy to come in and tackle him.
Not before too long, you found yourself in front of the building he calls his office. You stop in your tracks to look for a window to sneak in and check is he's there.
You managed to lump inside one of these old windows, jumping back up quickly before hitting the floor and potentially draw your target's attention. Crouching, you walk through the office, your right hand holding a sharp and small dagger, ready to just stab someone with it. Your face was a reflection of your focused state, looking for the slightest signal of your target or anyone nearby.
Lots of paper, pizza boxes, energy drink cans and more objects were all over the floor, his desk was perfectly clean, a big contrast to the whole place, you roll your eyes, you have seen better crime scenes.
Pretty much to your dissapointment, he wasn't nowhere to be seen in here.
"Great, now God knows where on earth he is...". You mumble to yourself under your breath, it wasn't the first time you had to go around the city looking for someone, but this was probably the only place you could sneak up on him, who doesn't let their guard down when they are in their places?
After you exit the building jumping through the same window again, lifting your hood up your head again, you sit for one second, resting your back against the cold bricks of the wall.
You remembered the man who requested Dante's assasination gave you a folded piece of paper with content that could be useful for you on your hunt, you didn't take a look at it before, thinking Dante was just going to be sittin' in his office desk.
After grabbing and opening the paper, you take a good look at it.
It had photos of him from the front and profile photos too, his height, details about strenght, and right at the end of the long list, there was something that actually could help you on your chase: the places he usually goes to or he is seen at.
Your expression inmediately lightens, as if you were looking at a treasure map.
"You can usually find him in his office, sitting and just scrolling through magazines. He frequently goes to the ice cream shop too."
Oh. Ice cream shop? better give it a chance, you thought to yourself.
You stand up from the ground, and begin walking hastily towards the only ice cream shop you knew in Redgrave City.
Walking through streets and alleys again, you began to notice. The sky is now pitch black, the starry sky was here, you should hurry, or else, he may not be in there by this time of the hour.
As the Minutes passed you kept walking, eventually arriving to a small plaza in which some people were taking strolls around, sitting or talking despite the hours of the night.
Just as you were halfway on the plaza, a loud rumble snaps you out of your trance, it's the ground, something is trembling under your feet, and it seems to be a very dangerous being.
The people around the plaza panicked, standing up from their seats, not knowing what to do. You looked down to notice the rumble was mostly coming down the ground you were standing on.
"Shit".
As you cursed under your breath your steps got faster towards the safest spot you could see right now, though it would probably be useless against the thing on the ground, you already expected for it to be a demon or anything like that.
Oh, if only Dante was here~!
You ran to some houses nearby, hiding in the small alleys between these, You saw how the cobbled floor was aggresively lifted up by a wide creature. You walked some steps back just to make sure it couldn't see you if it even had vision.
The creature had a big mouth and from it there sprung out two black limbs, probably it's tongues, ressembling arms. His gigantic mouth was surrounded by small and very sharp teeth, you felt goosebumps up your spine as you imagined being devoured by those terryfing fangs.
People ran away in horror, screaming and pushing each other for the sake of surviving, the creature began charge at every moving being it could see, people hid and as the creature was walking closer to your hiding spot, it was too late for you to hide.
Your mind was racing with all kinds of thought, fear, panic, horror.
You had already seen the horrors the demons and devils caused everywhere they passed by, yet you could never get used to it.
The creature kept screeching, slamming against a bench, walls, thankfully not against people.
Eventually, after charging and smashing so many things, the demon found it's way to you, spotting and inmediately running at your direction, screeching.
A whimper left your lips as you inmediately try to back away in the alley, hoping it would not see you anymore, but who are you fooling if not yourself? In the moment of panic and fear, you cornered against the stone wall.
For some seconds, the idea of fighting the demon lingered in your mind, but all you were carrying was the small dagger and tools for breaking in...
You were doomed.
So you braced yourself, preparing for the horrendous and painful end awaiting you, feeling the presence of that creature towering over you, and then-
...then?
You did not feel anything, all you heard was a loud bang followed by the sound of a very big item swinging around, followed by more screeches from the demon, but...as in pain.
You did not dare to open your eyes, still embracing yourself, your body jumped at the loud thump of the demon falling in front of tou, feeling it's fangs on your shoes...
"Can't even enjoy my Strawberry sundae in peace, heh".
You never heard that voice, yet, you knew who it was...
"Hey, Sweet Cheeks, it's okay. It's dead and stiff on the ground..."- Dante spoke to you, reaching closer to comfort you.
The demon's blood and it's body on the ground was the first thing that you saw, opening your eyes, startled. Raising your head, you met your savior.
Messy, silver and wavy hair, stubble beard, a cheeky grin and his eyes on yours, hands going to your shoulders to snap you out of your scared state.
Your brain was struggling with processing what just had happened, you almost die while looking for your target and you just got saved by that target.
His gloved hands gently moved your shoulders, you tried to say something to him.
"I- that thing- i-it..."- tried, anyway.
Dante stood in silence for a moment, listening to your babbling, before opening his mouth to speak again.
"Come here, you need help, you don't look okay.."- the man turned his body to walk our the alley, gesturing for you to walk with him.
This was your chance, even dizzy, nervous and in a state of shock, you knew it.
Perfect timing, alone, in a dark alley, no one was around because everyone ran away thanks to the demon, and he was turning his back to you....
Quickly, you pulled out your dagger and prepared to strike a blow, crouching and walking silently towards him, yet, when you raised the dagger, you couldn't move youe hand...
This man, he saved you and probably more people from that demon....and not just today, every week, you could hear people talking about Dante's work and his incredible skills....were you really going to kill him..?
You mumbled a curse, before bringing the dagger down and sheathing it back in your jacket. Just while you clear your thoughts....
"Behemoths been really annoying and aggresive lately"- he says, turning his head to you, before analyzing your looks.
"That's an odd, vestiment..."-he adds up, raising one eyebrow before turning his head to the plaza again, your eyes open wide and try to mask your startled look, faking a confused expression....god....if he finds out what you do for a living...
"..never saw a demon of that type so big like this one.."- to try to have a normal conversation to push these thoughts aside, you make a little comment on his.
"They're not this big usually, oh"- he stop on his tracks and faces your body- "The name's Dante. Dante Sparda.."- he offers you a gentle and almost recognizable smile.
You nod your head in response, and, you doubt to tell him your name, but then, does it really matter? He's going to die in a few minutes....right?
"I'm Y/N.."- you quickly answer, nodding your head...
"Good..You...are not injured..right?"- He frowns a little, trying to look over for injuries on your body.
"No, no, i'm fine, d-don't worry"- you quickly answer to him, moving your hands in a reassuring way, it was strange how he seemed so concerned for a random woman he just saved.
"It's just, i find it weird that an assasin has no injuries..."- He said to you, looking in your eyes with a stern look, awaiting for whatever excuse you were planning to say.
Your body froze on the stop, eyes open wide.
"..i-i'm not..?"- you tried to keep your calm, failing miserably.
"Oh?then who was that strange figure on my office's window some hours ago...? It looked very similar to you..missy..."-He did not believe you, leaning closer to you..
Shit, you were done, he wouldn't believe you now at all..
"I-....."-then, it was when you decided to be honest...
"I...am indeed...an assasin..but, i won't kill you..."- you tried excuse yourself, looking at the ground, worried for your life.
Dante lets out a little hm, before leaning even closer.
"I wonder what i can have you do for me as a way of compensation.."- The man starts to humm, thinking. Hey, you were not getting killed, for now..
"How about...you buy me, a Strawberry sundae..you know., it melted while i was rescuing you, huh."-he lets out a toothy grin, before stepping away and walking to the ice cream shop.
You were actually bewildered for what just happened, seems like you won't get that juicy payment.
...
He seemed pretty much happy to have his sundae, savoring every bit. You were just looking to the table, a little embarrased.
"Y'know, i suspected someone sent an assasin to kill me, but i never expected to be a cute girl."- Now he was just teasing you, this man was wild. You grunt and look away.
Minutes later, you let your guards down a bit, talking to him and eventually, your night became a nice one, between flirts and small talks, you found this Dante guy nice.
You ditched your request, he does not deserve to be killed.
Weeks later, it became a routine for you, to meet at ice cream shops and pay each others food sometimes. It ended up in you two in a strange love situation, he confessed first, chuckling at the thought of him, falling for an assasin...and you, for trying to kill him.
He still teases you for the way you met and your intentions, but hey, now you got a hot devil hunter boyfriend.
warnings: smut, unprotected sex, virginity loss, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus/fem receiving oral sex, pre-DMC3!Vergil(18-19), canon divergent in a way, AU I guess???
word count: 1.8k
pairings: Virgin!Vergil x Fem!Reader
a/n: this is the last post from my poll that I posted awhile back! Hope you enjoy it!
It was a fleeting romance. He came into the city searching for more power and you were searching for a deeper connection than you’ve ever had. Most of your life, you felt alone and unwanted. A pariah in the eyes of everyone. Someone unnatural and not normal. Someone that the rest of the world looked down on. And the pain of being so isolated and alone only seemed to get worse when your parents died.
So when Vergil came into your life, it’s like he was the breath of fresh air you needed. He motivated you to become something you were not. He motivated you to be even better than what you are. He rejuvenated you and helped you grow into a wonderful person. He became your savior.
You spent your days with him once you met him. He’d come to your workshop and he would watch you work at the forge for hours. He became so fascinated with your work and how a delicate little thing like you was so strong and adept at making these swords and other weapons and armor. He even commissioned you to make him a small little weapon. Something he could easily conceal and pull out whenever he needed a trick up his sleeve.
Most people frowned upon you still working as a blacksmith, but you had wanted to follow in your father’s footsteps. For years you had watched him and became a very talented apprentice, so it was only normal as your parent’s only child to take up the craft once they both perished. And you were the best blacksmith in town, despite almost everyone else going to the competition because it was a man running the place. Still, you made enough money at the market selling your wares to make ends meet.
Working to make Vergil a weapon was fun. He stayed by your side the entire time. During his mornings, he’d go sneak into the castle and steal books or anything he could get his hands on. It became a routine for him to seek out the treasures of knowledge and power hidden behind the walls at the old castle that Sparda lived in.
Then he’d find you in your workshop and spend his days unlocking his power. Oftentimes, you wondered who this man truly was or what he was. There was no way he was a normal human when you marveled at his strength. He was so much more than just human but you couldn’t put your finger on it right away. Then again, he really did look like the legendary Dark Knight Sparda. Maybe this was one of his sons that was not often spoken of? You wondered about it a lot.
At sunset, you two would part ways and the cycle would continue day after day. You really appreciated Vergil’s presence and his company. He would help make the days go by faster and would always lend his ear to you if you ever needed to talk about anything. It made you so happy to have one friend.
But one night, he offered to walk you home. You invited him inside. Something seemed different about him this evening. He seemed passionate. You wondered if he had developed feelings for you as you did him.
Once inside, you shared a bottle of wine, laughing and talking like you two were old friends. It felt so natural between the two of you. Then with reddened cheeks, Vergil took the plunge and pressed his lips to yours.
It was warm and sweet, but also inexperienced. Slowly, he pulled away and he was mortified. A million apologies fell from his lips. But you only pulled him in for another kiss. And soon your kisses grew needy and wanton. His saliva tasted so sweet as your tongues rubbed together sensually. When he pulled away to breath, a string of spit kept the both of you connected. Your hearts were racing and arousal and need grew so deep inside of you.
“Let’s go into the bedroom,” you suggested. Vergil did not need to be told twice.
Once in the bedroom, something snapped deep inside of him. He pushed you onto the bed, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy with lust. He crawled on top of you and kissed you all over your pretty face. It was so passionate already and he had only kissed you.
“You’ll be my first,” he declares and you agree. You tell him that he is your first as well.
In a mess of kisses and clothing being pulled off, you and Vergil lay skin to skin with one another. He’s warm and smells so comforting to you. Like a warm mug of tea on a rainy night. Like old parchment and books. The comforting scent of freshly washed linens.
His hands are shaking as he explores your body. He enjoys every moment of this. Part of him feels selfish to have such pleasures, but he can see just how much you love it. So how is he supposed to stop himself now?
When his long fingers part your folds, he relishes in the sounds of love you make. He’s deliberate in his explorations despite not knowing exactly what he’s doing. He just knows he’s going to make you feel so good. You’re so wet and so wanton, and it makes it easy for him to turn you into a boneless and pliable thing.
He kisses down your body as his fingers continue to stimulate you. You whine and moan his name, which only makes his cock throb with need. Vergil isn’t even sure how long he’ll last once he’s so deep inside of you, but he knows it won’t matter. He’ll have the stamina to keep going if that’s what you so wish.
“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is huskier than usual. He’s now between your thighs, looking up at you with his gorgeous blue eyes. You run your fingers through his messed up white hair, and this makes him let out a soft purr.
When he begins kissing your mound, you know you’re already done for. He’s been stimulating you in all the right ways, and it’s almost like he knows your body so perfectly. His large hands spread your thighs so he’s not going to miss a single moment of this. You won’t even be able to squirm away.Then his hot breath tickles your glistening cunt, making you whine.
“If only you knew how divine you smell,” Vergil says before leaning in to kiss your clit. “Oh, and how divine you taste as well.”
That’s all it takes for him to begin lapping at your cunt like a starved man. Your eyes roll back and you let out the most erotic moan he has ever heard in his life. One of his hands has to reach down to adjust his hard cock in his underwear. His eyes then dart back up to you, and he’s watching your chest heave up and down as he licks you with expertise.
Your fingers card through his very messy hair and you begin bucking up against him. You’re practically humping his face at this point, but he doesn’t even seem to mind. If anything, Vergil is losing himself to this beautiful pleasure. He’s tasting your very essence and it’s making such a strong need for you bubble up in his chest and stomach.
And when you cum, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever witnessed. He swears he’ll commit this memory to his mind for all eternity. There is no way he could ever forget something as beautiful as you writhing under him, moaning his name as your juices splash all over his mouth and tongue. And the taste of you is intoxicating, and Vergil knows he’ll never taste anything sweeter than you.
Vergil doesn’t hesitate to pull off his own underwear now and slot himself between your thighs. He’s done waiting now, he needs to feel you inside. His fingers push into you for a few moments, just opening you up even more for him. He strokes his cock lazily as he leans in to kiss you.
No words need to be shared between you. Your eyes say it all, and everything your eyes aren’t able to convey, you both can feel it in the needy and sloppy kisses you share. Soon, he’s guiding the tip of his cock into your dripping hole.
You hiss as the pleasure turns into pain now. He’s big, very big. It makes tears sting your eyes as he is splitting you in half with the fat meat that is between his legs. Not only does he have immense girth, he’s definitely not lacking in the length department either. Vergil curses under his breath as your gummy walls begin clamping down on him.
“R-relax, please.” He breathes out, then he leans in to kiss you once more. You shudder as you feel him pushing more of himself into you. It’s all so overwhelming.
But with his comforting words and sweet kisses, you start to relax a bit more. Your cunt begins to open up to him, and eventually, he bottoms out into you. The two of you are both moaning and panting at the amazing sensations. Vergil looks down at where the two of you are connected and he groans.
“Amazing,” he whines. “So fucking good.”
He clings to you as he begins pumping his hips, and already he feels his balls beginning to tighten. It’s all so good and you’re just moaning his name so fucking sweetly. He swears you must be an angel. You’re so beautiful, so sweet. You’ve been nothing but loving and considerate to him the entire time he’s been here, and nothing could make him feel more overwhelmed and scared but also so loved and happy simultaneously.
His face is buried in the crook of your neck. You smell like summer rain and roses. It’s making his head so foggy with lust, only adding to the pleasure and lust he’s lost himself into. Your tight, wet hole makes him feel like he’s actually going insane right now. And with him trying to hold on, it’s just making him weaker and weaker to the pleasure that is you.
“Darling, ‘m gonna—” but he can’t even finish his sentence. He grunts and groans, pulling you closer to him as he begins pumping ropes of hot, thick cum into your walls.
You moan as his cock throbs more and more, sending you over the edge as well. With your tight, gummy walls clamping down on him, it only prolongs his orgasm even more. Vergil grunts and moans your name, kissing you fiercely between the sharp inhales he needs to take to try and catch his breath.
After you’ve both come down from your high, he pulls out of you and lays next to you. The realization of what’s just happened comes over him and he suddenly feels so vulnerable. For the first time in his life, he doesn’t want to pull away from his softness. Instead, he rolls over and snuggles his head against your breast.
“You make me a better man,” he confesses before latching onto your nipple.
“And you make me a better woman,”
There’s silence after this. And with the warmth emanating from him, you slowly drift off into a peaceful sleep. Vergil vows to never let you go.
Jotaro, Polnareff, Kakyoin and Avdol with a Mute S/O! - G/N
REQUEST<3: holaa, vi que hablas español espero no halla problema con que solicite en español 🥲
podría solicitar de jjba a los cruzados(excepto Joseph) con un lector mudo? Algo románticon por favor
Espero no incomodar muchas gracias y suerte con tu blog ❤️✨😄
(Thank you anon! please excuse me for taking so long..Classes are a pain in the ass and i had final exams this last weeks..!)
(btw..i take this as the S/O is mute but not deaf, sorry if i was wrong)
JOTARO KUJO!
-When he met you, he actually thought and suspected you had something different, always so quiet and eyeing everyone with piercing eyes.
-He didn't mind it or seemed weirded out or anything, as he is himself a very quiet and introvert guy.
-When you hang out, it's usually going to a quiet place where he can talk to you and you to express yourself calmly, hearing his random thoughts and perhaps watching marine documentals?
-Somehow, Jotaro can read your thoughts and what you want to say when you're looking at something or someone in a certain way, how your eyebrows furrow, how you squint your eyes, the way your lips curve, if someone can't understand you, he will sulk at the person and then explain it, turning his head at you to know if he was right.
-When you began to date, your conexion was so rooted, you always enjoyed his calm and collected nature, just like he felt at peace with your chill and silent vibes.
-You two actually developed like a secret telepatic language, only for Jotaro and his quiet lover, stare at each other, smile, pout, he knows what you mean, and so do you.
-When fighting a stand user, he is afraid of you getting hurt and he wouldn't know since he might not see you, he wouldn't be able to hear your screams for help either, he keeps you close to him, holding pinkies..!
JEAN PIERRE POLNAREFF!
-When he saw you, he was mesmerized. Planning on how to introduce himself and impress you, he didn't know that you were mute, so when he comes to you and he sees you don't say anything, he actually got nervous.
-At first he didn't know exactly how to talk to you, later, he just gets used to your silent presence, he will tell you a random history of his, his dreams, his crave for love while batting his eyelashes at you.
-He will sometimes tease you lightly, since you can't answer back to him (at least with your voice) he will sometimes annoy you, perhaps just to get your attention and lighten your mood.
-You want to melt this man's heart? write him a love letter, it will fucking kill him.
-He will take revenge on you by leaving little notes with corny stuff everywhere.
-He's very protective of you too, if he sees anyone mocks, treats you bad for anything, he will probably have to hold himself from smashing their heads on the ground, especially if they mess with your mute condition.
KAKYOIN NORIAKI!!
-He understands completely at first. If he was already paying close attention and with interest everytime you were pointing something out, now, he had his full attention on you everytime.
-He never gets bored of you no matter what you two are doing, he will often invite you over to play videogames or do random stuff at home, he knows he is able of understanding you and you are comfortable with him, but outdoors it may complicate things, so he rather have you do something nice in a safe place for you to do anything.
-He loves that even when you can't speak through your voice, you actually have a lot of long and interesting conversations, he often finds himself giving free rein to his mind. He loves that you two simply are so safe with each other.
-You tried to develop a little language for you two to use, but you can only say like some basic or urgent words, tho it works in case you need something or the other way. You feel bad? No more, Kakyoin is already taking you to a nice place to help you out with anything. Need a hug? He's got ya.
-Sometimes he won't speak at all, of course, he is an introverted guy and will just lay with you, his head on your thighs, or resting on your shoulder.
MUHAMMAD AVDOL!
-He will treat you the same were you mute or not, he's a very polite and nice man already with anyone at first time.
-Since he knows a lot of stuff from being a fortune teller, (most fortune tellers have to analyze with precission the people they try to "read their fortune or misfortune" so they can come up with a believable answer, he knows how to read body language and the way someone expresses themselves) he manages to make you surprised most of the times, guessing things you never thought he could ever know if you didn't told him, but he did.
-He will teach you about tarot cards, he loves it when he has your whole attention focused on him, expect for him to do the same with you.
-When you began dating, he made a pack of small cards with essencial words for you to pull out in any place if anything happens or if you need something.
Summary: You were (supossedly) having your usual casual talks with Dante upstairs in his office, who would've thought Dante had something in mind completely different to do?
Content warnings: Of course smut, penetrative sex, use of petnames, unprotected sex, use of Y/N, Praise, a little little bit of dirty talk, fluff in the end :).
-💕
It was late night, you were having a long and nice chat with Dante for about one hour, you sitting on a small wooden chair, he was walking around and resting over his desk or walls. But, he was seemingly acting weird the last minutes.
''Dante, you there?''. You asked him, looking at the tall man resting on his desk with a puzzled face, this felt like you were talking alone for two minutes straight, you didn't noticed he was actually just staring down at you, in a lost gaze, just blinking and sometimes sharpening his stare.
Some seconds passed, it seemed like you were actually talking to yourself, you sighed and crossed your arms, he wasn't usually like this, he always had something to say, or some kind of playful and cheeky smirk to give you, this behavior weirded you out.
You decided to stand up from your seat, walking closer to the silver haired devil in front of you, to take a better look on his face, perhaps he was feeling bad? something was troubling him? You were actually concerned for this man.
As you got closer, you could see his face more clearly, you noticed a small shade of red on his cheeks, his attractive features always made you feel a little fuzzy in your mind, you brushed your thoughts away, before leaning closer to look into his eyes.
''This isn't something normal from you, Dante''. As Dante heard your voice from a closer distance, he inmediately snapped back to reality.
''Ah, there you ar-'' He inmediatey placed his rough hands on your waist, pulling you close against his chest, the sudden movement slightly made you yelp in surprise.
''..Sweetheart...'' Those were the only words he spoke to you before burying his face on the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply, his hot breath against your skin made you shiver in place, your neck moving automatically to give him easier access, he smirked and pressed a small kiss on your skin.
''ah...What's wrong..? You're acting...s-strange..'' You managed to mutter, as the devil was nuzzling on your neck and jaw, keeping a hold of you, you were pressed in between Dante and the rusty and old walls of his office.
''(Y/N)..you feel so soft...just...can i...?'' He leaned closer to you, staring into your eyes, his eyes had a strange hint of desire, neediness, not that you were complaining, his hands wandered on your hips, gently rubbing your sides, yet keeping a firm grip on your body.
You looked at his lips, before nodding slowly, to which he roughly pressed his lips against yours, in a sloppy make out session, his whole body could be felt against you, Dante bit gently at your lower lip, this earned a small gasp, parting your lips, this allowed further access to your mouth, this didn't seemed like a makeout session anymore, he was straight up eating your mouth, hands on your ass, groping tightly.
''That's right...you can't just walk around me like that without getting what you deserve..'' Dante growled against your mouth, his breath on your face made you lose your thoughts, holding onto his jacket with both hands.
''D-Dante...'' He chuckled at your mumble, sounding ever so low.
''Yeah? Baby? C'mon, speak up, can't hear you, darlin'.." He teased you, nibbling on your lip.
''T-the door, Dante-" You sighed at his sudden blow on your neck. "Trish, Nero, they're downstairs..." Dante chuckled in a husky low tone, he wrapped his arms around your waist again, picking you up, you inmediately tangled your legs on his hips to not fall down, this didn't stopped him from returning to tasting your mouth, drawing gasps and softs whines from you.
''No need to worry about that, baby..'' Dante said, panting in between his kisses.
He hastily carried you to the office's door, pushing the door to close it with a push of his hips, not breaking the kiss for a second, you were now gasping for air and panting, the hot feeling inside your guts was pushing you to continue the kiss, grasping and tugging his hair, he growled everytime you pulled a little rougher, biting your lips, pressing you against the door.
As you two heard the loud bang from the door closing, you jumped slightly in his arms, afraid that either Trish or Nero would come upstairs to see what happened, though, probably, they would already have in mind what was going on. Of course, Dante and Y/N, alone upstairs, better not interrupting the two of you.
''Every time we are alone up here...i need to fight the urge to bend you over my desk and straight up ruin you, baby-'' He whispered in your left ear, one hand holding your chin to look up at him, his other hand keeping you close to him.
Dante was clearly feeling different today, or perhaps you never noticed? It was true that you and the devil hunter had feelings for each other, and that you had your lovey-dovey moments here and there, but you didn't expect his feelings to be this deep within his heart...and body...
''-If you want this too, babe, nothing will stop us, not right now'' The feeling of warmth and a burning sensation on your stomach only got much more intense as his words slipped from his lips, his growls grew feral, wild even, this man was clearly infatuated with you.
He gently brushed your lower lip with his thumb, chuckling.
''C'mon sweetheart, cat got your tongue?''. He kept his teasing, giving you one of his smug smirks. You were feeling fuzzy, breathing heavily, erratically, recovering from such a fiery kiss.
''I d-didn't k-know you were feeling like this...'' You said, he presed his hips against your crotch, you could felt his half hardened cock through his pants, this only made you feel more fuzzy, head spinning, the scent and taste of this man was intoxicating you so deliciously.
''..now...darling...'' He was now kissing your forehead gently, walking to his desk, with you still on his arms, soft pants and gasps slipping from your lips.
He gently sat you on the desk, spreading your legs to place himself between you, he began to pull your shirt off, his hands roaming on your skin, grasping your chest and massaging it, you closed your eyes, pressing your forehead on the crook of his neck, hugging his body, as if you never wanted to let go of him.
''I love the softness of your skin, darling...i want to feel it shivering underneath me...''. In a matter of seconds, your upper body was revealed to him, his eyes piercing your body, taking every inch of you in his eyes, with a look of pure adoration and want on his face.
His words made you sigh again, taking his jacket and sliding it down his shoulders, rather rapidly, you wanted him, he wanted you, he wanted you for so long.
He pressed kisses and licked at your neck, nibbling on your collarbone, grasping your chest gently, you could feel every single touch, every single hitch of his hot and minty breath on your neck.
''There we go, that's a good sweetweart...so pretty for me..'' His praises made you smile at him, yet your lips, along with your eyes and eyebrows twisted into a rather lewd expression, as your lover slowly rubbed in between your thighs, teasing slowly, ever so gently, yet needy.
''h-haaah..D-dante..'' you gasped his name, panting on his shoulder as you wandered your hands down his firm and strong abs, sliding your hands inside his navy blue shirt, you heard his soft grunt as you feeled his abs with your hands, squeezing.
''Oh, someone's feeling handsy...'' Dante chuckled through his teeth, which were nibbling on your collarbone, sucking your skin and kissing the small bruises.
'' not me, that's for sure...o-oh..'' You spoke in a breathy voice, mewling every time you felt his lips suckling on your sensitive skin, you were definitely going to be covered in hickeys and small red marks all over your neck and collarbone by tomorrow morning.
The office felt much more warm and hot now, it felt moisty, You tangled your legs on Dante's hips to pull him closer, craving his touch and warm body, but he grabbed both your legs and spread them wide open again.
''Uh-uh, baby, keep those wide open for me, yeah...''. His stubble beard tickled your neck, this hands now trailing down to your crotch again, slowly undoing your pants, pulling them off, feeling your underwear for a second, before yanking them away.
The sudden coldness on your crotch drove shivers up your spine, arching your back, he carefully placed one hand on your chest, pushing you ever so carefully to lay on your back on top of the desk, he stopped for a few seconds to linger his gaze on your body.
''Y/N, baby, have i told you you're so beautiful?'' His warm and friendly smile was back, before he took one of your hands and placed it on the bulge of his pants, his cock felt now rock hard, the sensation made you let out a breathy sigh.
''..D-dante..'' You muttered, your eyes locked on his, he caressed your cheek, leaning down to kiss your lips, you could hear him unzipping his pants.
''Look at what you've done....yeah..yeah, you caused this...'' He rocked his hips a bit towards your hand, growling.
Dante pulled his pants down, not breaking eye contact once, he delighted in your flushed expression, your heavy breaths and those little marks on your neck.
As he let loose of his big and girthy member, you gasped as you widened your eyes, he wasn't going to just put it inside right now, right?
Your red devil noticed your sudden confusion and slight worry, to which he proceeded to smile lovingly at you, brushing your hair off your face.
''Easy now, we're gonna take it slow, keep it quiet, okay, sweetheart?''. He said in a low and husky voice, leaning down to trail kisses on your neck again, his chest slightly pressed against yours, one hand sliding down your thighs, beggining to caress and tease on your private parts, his other hand moving to intertwine with one of your hands, before pulling your hands up your head, leaving your arms mostly inmovilized.
Dante moved his hands to your thigh, squeezing a bit before returning to your crotch, pressing his thumb gently on your small hole, chuckling when he heard your soft whimpers.
''Need to get you nice and ready for me, sweetheart, don't want you getting all sore later, heh-'' He whispered against your ear, before nibbling on your earlobe gently, his strokes on your inner thighs got slightly more playful, now being a little rough, he inserted one finger in your hole, ever so slowly, he wanted to savor every single expression and shiver, every single moan.
''..O-oohh..d-dante...'' you breathed out, your chest rising up and down rather rapidly, his rough calloused hand kept your wrists pinned to the wooden desk, you couldn't do a thing, other than accepting his strokes and kisses.
Dante slowly pumped his finger in and out of you, paying close attention to your expression, which was slowly twisting into a lust filled gaze as you closed your eyes shut, he let go of your wrists to move his hand to hold your chin and tilt it enough for you to look at his face completely.
''Eyes on me, Y/N...that's right, darling, watch me fuck this pretty body of yours with my fingers..'' He inserted another finger, his pace with his fingers got a little faster, teasing in circles for a few seconds before returning to pump inside you.
More whines and breathy moans escaped your lips, now with both your hands free to move around, you placed them on his pulsing and veiny cock, caressing slowly the tip, earning a grunt and a warning look from Dante.
''Don't play with fire, darlin'' His voice sounded now more low and deeper, almost wildly, but he didn't push your hands away, bucking his hips to your hands.
Feeling bold, you didn't pulled your hands away, you took his cock in one hand, sliding it up and down slowly, your other hand massaging the tip. As he kept grunting, his pumping became faster and more aggresive for some seconds, but you didn't stop teasing his cock even when moaning and gasping underneath him.
''...I want you, Dante..'' You sighed against his face, the hot feeling in your gut was too much to bare now, you needed him. You needed more of him.
''That's it, i'll give it to you, baby..'' He said, now shifting his position, leaning on top of you, getting on eye level and grabbing your legs, pushing them up to your chest, leaving your crotch exposed.
With one hand, he took your hands and placed them on his chest, kissing your lips hungrily, tongues intertwining. The ache between your legs getting stronger.
He grabbed his cock, moving it closer to your entrance, softly and slowly teasing it, playing close attention to your expression.
The precum on his cock helped your entrance to get more soaked in case you weren't ready enough to take him.
He began to push slowly, stretching you out, shaky breaths and whines escaped your lips again, clinging onto Dante with your arms around his neck, puling him closer to you.
''.s-so..t-tight..baby, oh..-'' Dante breathed out in a husky voice, moving his hips gently at first, brushing his lips on yours through your moans and whimpers.
Once he was fully inside you, he stopped to look at your face, sweating, your neck, full with bite marks and hickeys, you looked so beautiful under him.
''...good, so good for me...'' He started rocking his hips slowly back and forth, still waiting you to adjust to his size, you felt every inch of your insides being slowly caressed by his hot member.
Your mind got even more fuzzy, the only thought in your mind being Dante.
''...D-dante..!'' You hissed through your teeth, eyes closed shut as your lover increased his pace after hearing your moans, hips hitting against your ass.
His grunting got a little louder, hiding his face on the crook of your neck, moving his arm to pull your legs up and rest them on his shoulder, having more access to your body now.
His thrusts only got stronger and faster, your whines now being louder and high pitched, he covered your mouth with his hand, moaning lowly.
''..hah..my sweetheart can't hold back their moans..'' He chuckled as he saw you open your eyes and furrow your eyebrows at him.
He cupped your chin with his hand, you felt his thumb on your lips, you sucked in his digit and bit it to supress your noises.
Sweat dripped down his forehead, grunting and moaning deeply sometimes, the wetness and sweat on your thighs made a loud smacking sound every time his hips hit against your ass.
You both had failed at being quiet, yet, you didn't stopped your indecent actions, his thrusts got more feral, his body rocking against yours faster and deeper.
If Trish and Nero were suspecting about you two doing such activities, they definitely wouldn't have any doubts by now, as your moans and sighs rumbled on the room along with Dante's grunts and growls.
''..M-more..!'' You whimpered, you had given into your lust and desires for your lover, the pleasure being too much to think coherently now.
It didn't took too long for Dante to grab your legs and wrap them on his waist, picking you up by your hips, carrying you as he moved your whole body up and down on him, his hips hitting against you harder and faster.
If you were to look down to his lower torso, you would only see a blur.
His shaky breaths were tingling your ear, he was ramming his whole cock into you, kissing your walls, you hugged his chest, breathing against his sweaty neck.
''..S-sweetheart..g-good..'' Dante spoke to you in a low voice, moving one hand to your back and caressing it.
You raised your head to his, he lowered his gaze to kiss your lips, passionately, nibbling on your lower lip.
As the seconds passed, the pleasure and lusty feelings were too much to bare, you felt a tingling and strange sensation on your lower half, along with his cock twitching, you both knew what it meant.
''..I'm gonna...!'' You hissed, Dante fastened his movements, moving one hand to cup your cheek and look into your eyes.
''...Cum on my cock, sweetheart...'' He kissed your cheek gently, you nodded and hid your face on his neck again.
As your orgasm hit you like a giant wave of ecstasy and arousal, you moaned out particularly louder than before, he kept fucking you through your orgasm, grunting.
It didn't took him long to finish off, panting and holding onto you as if you were going to dissapear anytime.
You looked at each other as the heat of the moment cooled down, speaking to each other through your gazes.
He carefully sat you down on the chair you were sitting before, tucking his pants up, and reaching closer to a tissue box he had.
''Let me take care of you...'' Dante cleaned your sweat and juices off your body, with one hand caressing your cheek.
You were of course tired, laying lazily on the chair, you looked as your lover walked around the room, picking some clothes and reaching a glass of water to you.
He helped you get dressed, before picking you up and sitting on the chair, you on his lap now, he kissed your head as you sat there, enjoying each others embrace, Trish and Nero would have to wait for tomorrow for any apologize.
Late Night Cuddles - Vergil Sparda x Reader - (GN, FLUFF)
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•♤•
Summary: it was another late night, raining and soft breeze getting through your bones, vergil decides to help you warm up
(Fluff)
♡
It was pitch black outside the windows of your small yet cozy apartment, 7 months have passed since Vergil moved in with you in your nest (after you managed to make him tell you he actually had nowhere to stay and convinced him to move with you).
You were watching as some rain poured down from the starry sky, sitting on a couch as your blue lover was very focused on a book he brought with him, his left hand on his temple to support his head and his right hand passing through the pages every once in a while.
Silence was never a problem with you two, as it felt like a calming and comforting quiet place, it was always like this almost every night, you doing things around as Vergil was very intently eyeing a book, softly humming sometimes, which caused you to smile.
As the rain got a little stronger, some cold breeze managed to get into the house, now being not so cozy after all, you were shivering around, walking now closer to your boyfriend.
Vergil noticed your small mumbles and how you hugged your arms and shoulders, walking around.
"Dove, is something wrong?" The blue devil asked, not reading the book anymore, just staring at you with his usual expression, yet you always felt his love through his gaze.
"Yeah..it's just, it's getting pretty cold in here, nothing much..." you shaked your head off to prove a point to your statement, Vergil furrowed his eyebrows before softening his gaze and curving his lips a little.
"..hm....Come here, teacup" he shifted his body slightly to accomodate for you to sit close to him. Not even thinking twice, you sat beside him, blushing slightly, it's not as if physical contact was rare between you two, (it wasn't very frequently, but it happened anyways).
As Vergil felt your warm body on his, he moved his right arm to rest on your shoulders to shield you from the cold weather outside, gently pressing his hand on your arm and rubbing it with soft caresses.
You had never seen Vergil be this forward when making physical contact, not that you complain about it tho.
You let your body relax and lay more naturally on his, resting your head on his shoulder, placing one hand on his chest, which was cozy thanks to his coat, yet the armour he wore made it slightly hard to the touch.
"That feels better?"he hummed, looking down to your eyes, this kind of small gestures were his way to show his affection and care for you, such small and pure things, they made you feel so giddy and flustered.
You nodded, Before he chuckled and pulled you closer to him, he then returned his gaze on to the book, his little smile was still there, he looked so pretty during these moments.
"Verg, read me something"
You asked him, with such a cute and pure face he couldn't deny, he chuckled softly again once he saw you, he petted your hair gently.
"Teacup, this is a demonic book, it only talks about horrors and mass murder, you don't want to stay up tonight, won't you?" He teased, but he was right, most of his books were about themes such as these, books that could assist him in his search of Power.
"We're already staying up late, Verg" you hummed with a slightly tired expression, cuddling onto him, to which he chuckled again and smooched your forehead gently.
"We are? I'm not forcing you to stay up at such hours, Y/N"
This remark made you make a slightly annoyed look, you stayed up late with him because if you weren't there to coax him to go and have some rest, god knows when would he actually get some sleep.
"You know pretty well why do i stay up with you, love"
He grunted a little, before closing his book and wrapping his other arm around you, now trapping you in a hug, your chest resting on his, you legs tangling.
You gasped softly, to which the silver haired twin smirked to.
He rested his chin on your forehead, now you were snuggling on the couch, his hands on your back, rubbing up and down on your comfy night clothes, humming gently.
"I suppose today will be different, your shivers and mumbles distract me."
He pressed you against him again, he felt warm, nice, his scent filled your nose, to which you smiled, pressing a kiss on his neck.
"If this is how we will spend cold nights, i won't complain"
You pressed another kiss, and he gently rocked you two on the couch, you weren't cold anymore, not when your lover was there for you.
You both fell asleep soon, you were nuzzling on his neck, he was petting your hair lovingly, before closing his eyes.
