Synopsis. Summer’s in heat and so are you - luckily, your aIpha knows just how to…help.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!oméga!reader, aIpha!JJK men, OMÉGAVERSE AU, heats, knots, size kínks, matíng presses, they go FÉRAL, pheromones, spítting, chokíng, GOJO’S POWERS, true form Sukuna, dp, tummy buIges, creampíes, p talking, bréeding, losing control, best friend!Choso, matíng bites, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. OvuIation has me like this…
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Mr. Milkman
“O-oh my, mmm, Toji-”
“Quiet.” He’s swallowing down his parched throat, staring down at you through the gaps of his dark bangs- on all fours, your trembling hips rut back mindlessly into his.
Sluggishly - almost hypnotized - Toji’s nodding his head down to take a sniff of those sweet, sweet pheromones of yours. Just a tiny puff before his body’s acting on pure, primal instinct- slamming every lengthy, vein covered inch of his until he’s thumping the bottom of your core.
Your heat was driving him crazy. His beefy arm curling ‘round your neck, nose pushing into your throat-
You find yourself sobbing out cutely, “Yes- yes, please mo-”
“More?” Toji doesn’t even let you finish. And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d be marvelling at the way his low, gruff baritone was breaking near the very end. At the way he could only plaster the reddened tip of his shaft against your walls and gasp—“M-more?”
Oh, now you’ve done it.
Now you were making him tighten his hold, a warm puddle of drooling splashing out of your mouth n’ all down his veiny forearm. “More, huh?” And there’s something dangerous to his tone. Something dark. Unsteady. “I’ll give you f-fuck- more.”
And before you can even register those words within your melty mind, he’s using the leverage to slam your trembling body to his-
“So much more you won’t be able to take it, doll.”
He meant it- oh, your poor, overly-stuffed cunt’s finding out just how much he meant it.
Because then Toji’s fucking you into the dampened sheets like an animal- fast. Hard. He’d been rough before, but never like this - like he’d die if he couldn’t feel the velvety ridges of your sweet innards.
Low grunts slipping after each swat of his geysering orifice, knees spreading even wider on the creaky bedsprings to feed your dripping pussy with his veiny measurement.
He pushes a hand down at the base edge of your spine and grins at the way it makes your irises stupidly whirl—“Tch, s’this it? Is this what you wanted, needy thing?”
“O-ohhh just like that.” You’re mewling, hands fisting into the silken sheets when he’s surging his hips after the recoil of each thrust. Chasing your cunt. “Yeah- just like mm–”
Toji grunts, “This enough for my girl’s slutty pussy-” One of his raven brows raise as he’s taking in just how utterly wet you were with your heat, extra layers of your slick ringing around his hilt. “-or d’you still want fuck- more, needy lil’ omega?”
Your cute lower lip wobbles and he already knows the answer- hell, he’s fucking the answer out of you just as soon as he realizes.
A large, callused hand swats down on the slippery slope of your pussy with a snicker. So hard that a slimy squelch! rings in his ears like music, “Speak up. Tell me what your heat wants.”
“Ngh- I want-” Your back arched at the warm contact of his thigh hiking up, pressing to the side of your bouncing hips to stop you from squirming. Every maddening thrust just had you so stupid that you can’t even string together a coherent sentence at this point. “I want- fuck…”
And the next few pretty noises you’re letting off aren’t from your gaping mouth - they’re from your sopping wet pussy.
Just the loudest, most lecherous slurps each n’ every time he’s opening up your every nook and cranny.
Toji has to nibble down on his scarred lips to prevent himself from whining- “O-ohhhh, I get it.” You swear you hear his lips depart with a husky giggle - a giggle. And Toji can’t help but urgently lick off the honeyed glaze of your slick all over his digits, extra sweet now. He roams them back down for yet another spank. “This heat has you hah- talking t’me from here, huh?”
Another three strikes, and another few gluey squelches.
He’s sticking the pads of his fingers against your cunt and watching as you jolt at the raw stimulation, whimpering. “T-Toji it feels so-”
“Ah ah-” Ah, for a second he’s wondering whether he’s teasing his poor girl too much- but then he’s whiffing in more of your heady scent and shit- what was he thinking about again? “If m’gonna be used for my ngh- cock, doll, I wanna talk to the lady in heat.”
Cock so, so swollen that he has to swerve his hips ever-so-slightly to bully all the way inside, your pheromones so hypnotic that every where he touched left utter bruises.
You were making him lose control.
You were making him gulp in a looong lungful of your clouded pheromones before he’s tumbling his head back and fighting for his damn life not to cream your insides already. Feeling just a pearly bead of cum escape the end of his shaft, “F-fuck, she’s gonna be the fucking death of me.”
“What are you–” You’re starting out, before flinching at the splat-splat-splat of something all wet trickling down the middle of your spine.
Snapping your head around and oh- the vision you’re seeing is something so effortlessly sexy.
He’s never been like this.
Toji- with his head lowered near your scent glands, chiseled abs tensed, darkened eyes glittered with tears. They’re travelling in a thin line down his cheeks and splashing onto your back, “Toji are you o- fuck!”
“Don’t you fucking ask if I’m okay, doll.” Oh, he’s seething. Leaned in close so your fever’s catching onto him in full effect, every ragged breath of his punctures with a harsh thrash near your g-spot. “Don’t you- fuck, look at her n’ ask if I’m okay-”
Mindlessly, your head lolls down to watch as he slides in n’ out of your folds relentlessly. Your pussy bulging wiiidely agape, struggling to take in his sheer size.
And Toji’s thighs tremble as he’s groaning, “Begging to be filled up- begging to milk me dry. This omega’s begging to be bred by me, and you think I’m okay?” Jade peripherals dilated, canines honed, he was gone. “S’what you want, right?”
The circular divot on top of his mushroom tip pushes against your sweet spots and you scream, “Yes- yes yes yes-”
“Shush, doll- can’t hear…” Trailing off, Toji grows quiet- well, as quiet as he can be when he’s making you squeal out after each jackhammer. “Oh…y’know what she’s saying now?”
“What?”
“Mmm—” Manhandling your head to splay out across his collarbone, he’s pointing straight inside his mouth. Grinning, “Spit in my mouth if ya wanna hear the answer, omega…heh.”
And it’s not difficult - not even a bit when you’re slobbering out pathetically with every tiny graze of his veiny cock. Hitting his ripe, pink tongue dead-on-
“She says–” Gasping once he’s lazing down his sloppy cadence just enough to make you feel the thick, swollen curve surrounding his base. So round and girthy that it was making your knees weaken - his knot. “-we’re havin’ a daughter this time, doll.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - DILF!
“Kento, are you-”
“No no–” Comes his breathy answer, and you’re catching the way that Nanami’s bass hitches with each slip n’ slide of his cherry-red tip between your folds. “I’m quite alright, darling.”
And oh- you’ve known your husband long enough to tell when he’s lying.
Known him long enough to feel the way that his geysering shaft plumpens up inside of you, the shaky muscles of his thighs gluing to yours. Nanami drinks in another breath of your heady pheromones and thinks he can feel a part of his sanity genuinely splinter-
“O-on second thought…” He gulps, slightly-quivering fingerpads pushing up on the metal frames of his glasses. “-your heat might be affecting me a bit-” And you’re making his poor, husky tone break when you clench, temples glistening with a thin line of perspiration. “-more than expected.”
Your hands wind their way around his broad shoulders with a pout, “You can go rough all you want, y’know?”
“My love, you’re just talking out of your heat-”
“I want you to go rough.” And oh fuck- oh, you knew every single one of his weaknesses. From the way that he’s gasping at the slight pout of your lips, to the shuddering of his fat, bulging mushroom tip when you whinily add—“Please?”
And Nanami’s big - more than big. He’s so prolonged n’ girthy with his shaft that it usually takes him hours to be able to bottom out, to even dare to try.
But right now with your heat, all it takes is a singular, solid slam for his tawny happy trail to scratch your poor clit raw. For him to glue the pointed end of his shaft against the sponge of your cervix and draw a loooong glissade down, “Fuck fuh-fuck–!”
“Mmmm just like that-” You’re blubbering out, thighs thrashing when he’s starting to push a sensual, loving massage of his veined length. “Harder, Ken.” Too teasing that the only thing you can do is claw your way down to one of his wrists and mewl- “Harder.”
“But-”
And you knew he was being the sweetest. You knew it would make him break when you’re letting off a scorching breeze of your pheromones, watching in real time as it makes his pupils dilate.
You’re tucking in one of his thick fingertips past your swollen folds, feeling the startling cold of his wristwatch - still on - make your outer pussy gush with saturated slick. “D-do you not want to-”
“Never think like that.” He huffs, he pants and that only makes the primal whirling of his head even worse. Slightly ragged. Slightly out of control.
Nanami’s kneeing your thighs apart from his previously romantic missionary position into something lecherous that’ll have his slimy cockhead rovering the deepest. Banging the curvy end of his shaft dead-on into your most favorite spot until you’re seeing stars, “You don’t- you don’t know what this scent- this pussy does to me-”
A smug smirk starts tugging at the corners of your spit-glossed lips, and you can feel your scent glands beginning to heat up once more. “Oh, really—”
“Don’t-” Barely even able to let off a single cloud of murky pheromones before a sudden, engulfing hand comes slamming down on your throat so that he can squeeze. “Don’t you- fuck!” So he can cover up your scent- at least, that’s what it was meant to be, but in reality Nanami’s using that rude hold to manhandle your entire body to slam back into his.
Rougher. Harder.
His leaky tip probes into every one of your battered orifices until you’re left speechless, gasping at the sheer force makin’ all the air depart from your lungs.
“You want your alpha, don’t you?” He spits into your open mouth, and you can only gape because your husband’s never talked to you like this. “Wan’ me to haaaa- fuck this pretty pussy through your heat?” Never hiked his powerful knee up until he could pin down one side of your restless inner thighs with it. “Well you have no idea how you make me- ngh- lose my mind.”
And Nanami Kento, usually so put-together, couldn’t stop babbling from now on.
He’s leaving half-moon nailmarks down the side of your throat, “Have no idea how rock-fucking hard you m-make me.” Twitching so hard inside of you that the sensitive line of his slit engraves into the roof of your pussy, “Have no idea how I hck! ran all the way from the fucking office here.” He did - the very second you’d called him, right in the middle of his work day. Ran out, in fact. “And it m-makes me wanna…”
Your chin is positively glittered with drool at this point, and you can only whine—“Wh-what…?”
Your husband shakes the blond tresses out of his clammy forehead, like that will help clear his mind. “N-no, forget about it, darling I—” Only for all that work to be undone by a single clench of your gooey, circular-shaped insides. A single slip of his hands on your glands and he’s gasping, “-fuck! Wanna get you pregnant.”
And you don’t know whether it’s your heat driving him mad or simply you.
The way your skin burns up twofold with high temperature, heels locking at the dimples homed on the base of his spine to pull.
All your mind was craving, “Please- want- ngh- want it.” Eyes tearing up in an adorable way you’d definitely be embarrassed about if this way any time but now, your scent screams need and that makes him salivate. “Unless you don’t-”
“You’d be pregnant with our tenth kid n’ even then I’m hah- gonna fuck you stupid, my silly omega.” The straight edge of his nose bridge crinkles in amusement. Head tilted, Nanami smiles down through half-lidded eyes as you’re taking up every solid thwack! Every grind. Every spurt of dewy wet pre, “The only thing I ever want is my pretty lil’ wife ngh- all round and glowing with my seed.”
And before you can even blink your tear lathered lashes, he has his hand teasin’ your drivelling cunt. Hard. Sloppy. You swear the tint of his hazel irises only grow carnally darker when you’re pouring out around him.
Thumbing down the crevice of your pussylips before pressing deeply on your clit- one hand driving you crazy, the other interlacing with yours so that he can bite down into your left ring finger. “So stop thinking stupid things and jus’ open up oh- reeeeal wide f’me- fuck.”
It’s so much- only one, two, three straight barrels of his ruddied tip until you’re crashing into your high. Taking over you like a wave - and just as wet, you’re hiding your eyes in the back of your head and squirting.
Mouth ajar, pussy quivering.
Thick, translucent splashes straight onto the lines of his toned hips. Formulating such a steaming hot puddle that clings onto your thighs in a sheen, shit, he has to stop himself from craning his head down to taste-
Nanami’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs with a swallow, “Fuck…” Roaming his tips to stir the lines of his veins across your sweetest spots, so good that it makes your toes curl- “Fuck. You’re lucky if we stop at ten kids, my love. ”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Drunk-daze…
“Mmm–” Geto’s mouth glues onto your clit after each sodden kiss, amethyst eyes barely even visible through his unruly bangs. “Yer even sweeter when you’re in hah- heat, gorgeous.”
And so much wetter, too- a gush of your slick streams down the side of his chin and leaves your inner thighs all flooded.
You can only clench your legs ‘round his sweaty scalp and whimper with every flick of his slimy, rovering tongue. He’s slipping them between your folds and lapping up every milky ounce of cum you have leaking out of you from all those hours before, oh-so-filthy. “Please- ngh- want-”
And he’s finding the way your hips buck up uselessly so cute- not that he’d admit it out loud, of course.
Sniffing out a chuckle, “Wha’s thaaaat?” The way he blinks his dark lashes up at you is almost hypnotic, pussydrunk. “Open that pretty mouth and use it for me, omega.”
He knew - oh, he knew what you wanted so badly.
He could smell the pheromones dripping from you, the way your gorgeous eyes were all glassy with need. Every tiny slip n’ slide of his expanding tongue inside your hole only making you want more more more- you were still in heat.
“Want- please-”
And Geto’s teasing with the way he’s languidly getting up to hover over your jostling body. Fat, knotted cock spanking down between your plump pussylips, exactly thrice. Geto seeps out his own calming jasmine scent as he’s rubbin’ your clit with the swollen base of his length.
Watching your sloppy hole wink up at him and crave the stretch, “Heh- m’only here to serve. Tell me what you ngh- want, gorgeous—”
Your mouth sticks together slightly with a few syrupy strands of saliva as you flap them open, starting—“Sugu, I-I want- oh, fuck.”
You can’t tell him - you can’t even breathe once he’s waiting just long enough that your whiny voice is beginning to babble- and then pushin’ the curvaceous ends of his cock inside with all his might.
Inside, swabbing his way until your slicked walls bulge.
It’s tight - hot. Your swollen folds are pried apart around the sheer circumference of Geto’s mushroomy tip, and the only thing he has half the mind to do is throw your legs over his shoulder to rut and rut and rut-
“Whoops.” Your boyfriend has the audacity to giggle - giggle, only stopping once he’s registering the sour stubborn scent of your pheromones. Apologetically thumping the flared ridge of his crown right against the roof of your cunt, it’s enough to have you shrilling. Tone lilted, “My heh- mistake. Promise I’ll be nice, tell me now- still in heat, hm?”
As if to prove his point, he’s slowing down just barely enough that the mazing direction of his shaft stops short of your g-spot. Where you wanted him the most. Croaking out in a panic, “Ye- mmmpf-”
But, of course, Geto Suguru was never that nice.
“Hmmm…don’t talk.”
In just mere sultry nanoseconds, he has your mouth stuffed with two of his lengthy fingers, your cunt overfilled with his cock. Bottomed-out. And yet, still pushing like he wanted that weepy hole of yours to remember his exact measurements-
Spitting.
Twice - once straight into your mouth, and the second time a great, glittering dollop against your cunt. “No need to when you just wanna be mmm fucked, don’t you?” Geto’s spitting out in pure raw hunger against your sensitive ear lobe. Jamming the doughy crowns of his fingertips in circles along your cheeks, in sensual unison with the circular motions of his rummaging cockhead. “Isn’t that all you ngh- want? Isn’t that what this fiilthy fucking pussy’s been beggin’ for?”
Hissing out ravaged whispers every time the globular end of his cockhead thumps your g-spot. Geto turns his head and gnaws down on the shell of your ear just because he’d already bitten you all over your glands.
“Fuh-fuck, Suguru- more- gimme more…”
“More?” Almost open-mouthed, staring at your fucked-out expression, you’re releasing such sweet, sweet pheromones that make the knot homed on his cock swell. That makes him gasp, shiver. “If you want more then take it, gorgeous.”
“Sugu-”
“C’mon.” Urging you with his sinful hips, he’s just so prolonged in his size that every shovel of his solid inches makes your eyes roll. It’s like he’s never-ending. “S’that all you can do?”
And you might be desperate, but he’s gone.
All but melting his toned body on top of yours, the ridges of his abs glissade down your front and Geto keens once your hands claw greedily down his core. “Tch- harder now. Harder- I thought you were in heat, omega.”
Fingers digging in so hard that it’s almost like you’re trying to draw blood. “I-I am.”
“Yeah right.” Nostrils flared, reddened cock furious each time he swipes it down the entrance to your womb. And teasing you was the only thing that kept him from fucking whimpering- “As if you can even handle this big stretch.”
Your breath hitches humidly, and you’re not sure whether it’s the heat or the pure yearning after the way his thick, throbbing kisses your treacly cunt. “I can handle it.”
“Oh yeah? Say it then.”
“What do you-”
“Say it-” Geto croons, head tilted down with such a sleazy smile. Smug. But you catch the way that the ends of his rosy lips twitch, the way his dark brows furrow, the way his strawberry divot spurts. “-say you want that hck! biiiig stretch, gorgeous—”
“I want it-”
Scoffing, “Want what?”
And he’s not just fucking you until your eyes swirl in pathetic circles- he’s slamming the curve of his rotund knot. Making sure to grind it in a way that just grazes your clit, “Say it f’me~”
Maddening.
“Big- ngh-” Mewling, “Want that big stretch-”
“Stretch her out for me, hmmm–” Toying, he can only watch as your trembly fingerpads smear open your pussylips. Aching for more, your thighs twitch at the way his knot was pushin’ and pushin’ trying to fit, the girth so big- “Now how about you say ‘pretty please-’”
And you can’t take it anymore.
Before you know it- before Geto knows it, you’re saddling your heels into around his lean spine and flipping the two of you over. Slamming him down by his muscular shoulders, shovelling his proud knot right inside like you were going to wring him dry-
“O-oh.”
Ah, you made the proud alpha stutter. Puffing out something raw from the end of his throat- eyes widening. Breath catching. Cock flinching as he’s shocked.
He can only watch as the glazed, cherry-pink spheroid of his tip pushes past your entrance and slips all the way back down. And you swear the infamous Geto Suguru whimpers, you swear he’s smiling. “Ch-choke me, gorgeous?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Knotty boy?!
You were riding Choso crazy, you were riding him dry n’ the only thing he can do is cling on helplessly to the bouncing sides of your hips. Spit drivelling between his unfastened maw after each bounce, “Fuck- fuck! Baby, I don’t know if I even can-”
“But m’not done yet, Cho— ” You’re cooing, brushing away the chestnut strands of your best friend’s bangs. He’d agreed to help you through your heat- and here he was, fucked-out and blushing.
Throwing his head back every time the rovering edge of his tip pushed against your womb, Choso’s chasing your cunt with his toned v-line. Letting the insides of your thighs squish his pelvis, “Please-”
“Hmm—?” You cock your head just as soon as he’s dredging up one of your hands with both of his own. Guiding it all the way up to his clammy neck- “Please, what, baby?”
You don’t even have to do it for him - Choso’s tightening your pretty hands ‘round his neck and letting you choke him. Drunken eyes whirling inside the whites of his eyes, he’s breathing in the air of your pheromones and it’s enough to make his plump knot throb. “Please- please, use me then.”
Oh- oh, his nose is just so sensitive to your heat. To you.
And the only thing you have to do is throw your head back to bare your scent glands- to let a murky puff of it reach his lungs, and he’s cumming.
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” Husky voice strangling in his throat, it’s all Choso can do to smear his meaty thighs further open and hit your sponged cervix. Letting the puckered, weeping hole at the end of his shaft plaster against the bottom of your pussy and flood.
In long, creamy swipes of his cock that leave your walls all bruised n’ battered. He’s milking himself on your cunt, trying with all his might to bead out every ounce inside of his balls.
But there was only one problem-
“Cho—” You’re gasping, once his orgasm didn’t feel as sloppy as usual. It’d been hours now, and Choso had always loved to make such a mess that would leave your entrance overspilling for minutes. And yet, now…“Did you just cum dry?”
“No-”
Yes.
He did, and it makes his dark, dewy peripherals glisten with a hot welling of tears. “No, nghhh- no no no no- ” With one hand creeping down to cup his aching hot hilt and help rut upwards. “M’such a hck! useless alpha.”
You’re cooing, “Awww- don’t say that-”
“But I am.”
And he couldn’t be- he won’t be. All those days and nights dreaming of having you, his pretty lil’ best friend, like this would be for nothing if he couldn’t even help you through your damn heat.
With your sweetened scent thoroughly fogging up his mind, Choso’s fingers twist into a few cursed shapes- and suddenly you’re feeling the air between your sheened thighs buzz. You’re feeling it crackle with cursed energy.
But more importantly, you’re feeling him harden. Gasping at the way that his red, bulging tip was now more than rock-hard, Choso’s prolonging his rovering cock so much that it was painful. “Oh, baby, don’t tell me…”
“Blood manipulation technique.” He’s giggling, thick lashes fluttering with every push of his hardened shaft into your springy insides. His mushroomed cockhead recoils from the back of your cervix and Choso almost whimpers at the loss of contact- just that pussydrunk. “It’s my duty, I hafta ngh- fill her up. Make her t-take my knot.”
Oh, he was going to have you so stuffed with all his cum that it was going to form a puddle right there on top of him.
And Choso’s already swiping away the glistening stripes of your slick spilling down his abs, pumping it back in with a free thumb between your folds.
“Come on-” Panting. Heaving in your scorching scent. Bullying the fattened curve of his digit past your first ring of muscle, you’re letting off such shrill whines every time you’re hitting your pussy down to meet his touch. “Come on come on- take me. Use me.”
The mere words are enough to have your heat flaring up twofold, the tastebuds on your tongue sizzling with saliva after each impact of his veiny cock. “You want me to mmm- use you?”
“Yes! Use me use me- s’what I’m made for, please. Don’t know if I can even do anything else anymore.” He whines, and suddenly you’re too-aware of the rotund, pulsating girth of his knot.
So big that a chilling shiver runs down your spine, it’s the sheer circumference that has your thighs twitching with need. Your treacly cunt already fucking back in your sloppy cadence to try and take him on.
“You want to hah- knot me, Cho?”
Your fingers tighten on Choso’s flushed neck as he gulps- “Yes- please-”
Pretending to think for a few sultry moments, “Hmm, well–” Even though you already knew that everything from the thickly saccharine pheromones to the way your cunt quivered at his cursed energy told him that you wanted it greedily. “Only if you bite me, too.”
And Choso Kamo looks like he’s just entered heaven.
“I…I can mark you?”
You’re barely even motioning out your nod, barely even starting before it takes him one ripple of his muscular body to flip the two of you over.
Sprawling you out on your back like such a slut, pushing your legs bent until your knees strike your tits, snapping his cock deeply inside before he squirts.
Not just cumming for an nth time - but Choso squirts, in thick, honeyed sloshes that take over your cunt. You swear you can feel it welling up all the way at your throat, and every sloppy drag of his cock only pumps it deeper and deeper and-
“Smells so good- feels so good.” He’s rasping out, a hand toying on your clit- just because it made you clench in a way that eagerly gobbled up his creamy dewdrops of cum. “O-oh, you’re gonna push me into a rut.”
Oh, fuck- your eyes widen, that was it.
That was the reason for the sweet chocolate pheromones taking over the air alongside your scent. That was the reason why Choso was more animal than man- more feral when he’s teething over your cute scent gland. He was in rut.
Hand twitching on your nubbed clit, just as unstable as his voice was when he’s uttering—“Need you to c-cum now. The momma should ngh- cum if we want a baby.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Heian-Era Hard
“Keh, fuuuuck—” Any and every time that Ryomen Sukuna might have teased you for your humanly stamina was thrown out the window. He’s bending you into a lecherous full nelson with two hands, and swiping his sweaty forehead with another- “Makin’ even the king break a sweat-”
You’re blinking, teary gaze wafting over your shoulder, “Wh-what?”
“Nothing.” The garish mouth across his abs bites one side of your hips, just a little punishment.
Honestly- your heat was just so strong that it had your tight pussy drooling all over the royal bedsheets. Sukuna’s dual cocks absolutely lavished in a thick gloss of your slick each time he’s spearheading you full, “Tch- but honestly, how much more d’you want, spoiled brat?”
Though, he wasn’t complaining.
Oh, never- not when he had you like this. His ruby-red tips rubbed raw down the soft surface of your cervix, Sukuna swats a hand over your mouth just as you begin to babble out an answer.
“Don’t answer that- you’ll only talk outta yer ngh- fucking pussy, anyway.” Rolling his crimson eyes, he’s smearing the wiry ribbons of saliva escaping your mouth and gluing to his palm with a grin. “Messy girl, you’re drooling everywhere-”
“Mmm- I’m- mmpf-” And it’s as if just the sound of your voice was enough to send zaps of electricity racing down his spine.
Breath catching, the matching girths of his cocks pumping up even harder- fuck, the smell of your sweet pheromones was already bad enough. He couldn’t handle having you whimper in his keen ears, too- “Why don’tcha just kiss me proper now, human.”
And before you can even think, he’s manifesting his second mouth to slash across his palm. Letting the thick, slimy tip of his tongue lap between your mouth and latch on in such a filthy, filthy French kiss.
“There—” Sukuna coos in his gruff baritone from behind, and the swell of his balls tighten at the sloppy visage of you. “Hah, this heat has made you even more messy than usual, mama. Look at you.”
You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to, because the rough hold that the King has on your face lets him tug your chin downwards. Showing you the bulging orifice of your cunt in all your stuffed glory, singing out the loudest slurps! every time he squeezes his two tips past your entrance.
Once. Twice. Thrice.
Again and again until your legs twitch sensitively at the scrape of his winding veins down your walls, “See?” He has the audacity to snicker- “S’it make my human- my pretty omega into a cockdrunk little slut? Aw…”
“M’n-not-” You’re fighting to gasp through the slight gaps of his spit-polished hand, hips squirming at the way he’s probing your every hidden crevice deep inside. “But I do like…well…”
“Tha’s a lot of words to just say ‘take it’, heh.”
And he was making sure you did, your heat doesn’t even have the time to flare up and ask for more before Sukuna’s giving it to you. Pummelling it. Holding your legs pried apart with his beefy, tattooed arms that just make your mouth water, one more covering your mouth. And the last?
Oh, he’s creeping his fouth n’ final palm vertically down your tummy. Glissading across the tender, cylindrical outline of his cocks, being thrashed against your womb and fucked right through your walls.
Pushing down-
He’s gnawing down on your bottom lip like cute bubblegum, “Oh, fuck! Kuna- oh my god, mmm-”
“Yeah, take it.” With a grunt, Sukuna’s thumbing his clawed digit over those precise matching bumps. He could feel the way they thumped two proud, circular bruises against the back of your dripping pussy. “Take it- take it and more, mama.”
If you weren’t stupidly cockdrunk before, then you surely were now. Dazed pupils heart-shaped and criss-crossing every time he was swiping down your g-spot.
“You have to take it take-”
You claw at his wrist, “I-I am-”
“I know. Yer in heat- can’t go a single second without feeling my biiig fucking cock, can you?” And at this point, Sukuna’s only grateful for how gone you were because your pheromones were simply making him babble. Jackhammering into you like an animal, “Want it all deep inside-”
You’re whimpering, steady streams of tears watering down your face when he presses his fingerpads even harder against the fragile spot of your tummy bulge. Your womb. “-here?”
“Yess- yes!”
“Mmm—” Sukuna pretends to ponder, for just a split-second, even though all he could think about was the suckling sensation of your cunt and just how feverish you were. “Well, m’feeling generous today, brat. So I’ll let you pick.”
Confused, your chin hits your chest as you follow his line of sight. “Pick what…oh.” You knew what. You could feel it.
All the way between your legs and nudging against the bawling entrance to your pussy, both of Sukuna’s knots were fat and aching for your touch. Throbbing each time they skid past your slick-sprayed thighs, stronger. Harder. “Eeenie meenie, lil’ human. Hurry up.”
“W-want…” You’re babbling out, and he can’t stop himself from hunching over with his towering frame to listen in. Struck with the full force of your candied scent, his favorite. “-both.”
Oh.
It’s a tiny, sinful gasp- and it rips from big, bad Sukuna’s lips before he’s realizing.
Before the words finally sink in and he finds himself grinning, oh, this was why he loved you. “Cheh, then…”
And he knew you were talking out of your heat, he knew it would be a tight fit, and he also knew your poor, soppy pussy might not even be able to fit all of him. But that was what your grouchy alpha was here for - to make it fit.
And he’ll do it.
“O-oh, fuck.” It makes you dizzy, it makes you wail- just the feeling of Sukuna’s second mouth enlarging across his tense core and wriggling the tip of its tongue between your pussylips. Stretching. Bending dexterously inside just to try and push his knots past your cushy folds.
Half-rutting, mindless.
He’s barely even pulling all the way out before planting his feet flat and spanking your cunt with the expanse of his lengths. Slap after slap- hell, you think you’re seeing one of his own hands slither downwards to pry your entrance oh-so-open.
The stretch so mind-numbingly delicious that you can feel your vision splotch, your mouth whining–“Kuna, I-I don’t think it’ll-”
Only to be cut off by the raw, lecherous plop! of two hot, heavy knots being bullied into you. So thick that you can feel the velvety layer of your walls twitch each time he throbbed inside of you.
And at this point, you’re not even sure you’ll make it out of this alive-
“And now-” His booming voice snaps you out of your little reverie, Sukuna’s scorched divots geysering out steady drops of pre. Blushing- and so was he. “-the fun begins.”
♡ INO TAKUMA - “P-pretty…”
It’s the one thing that can depart from Ino’s mouth other than the plea to simply set him free because your sweet, syrupy pussy was holding him hostage.
Already having stuffed his aching knot inside of you mere minutes ago but still yearning for more, more, more-
Gasping. Whimpering with every slick swivel of his mushroomed tip probing every spot inside your cunt- “Pretty, oh-oh, I need to fuck you- again- can’t stand being like this.”
“Again, Taku?” You’re mewling once his hips start pulling back from the lewd mating press he’d bent you in. Trying- failing because the girthy circumference of his knot was just so much, so big. “Baby, your swelling’s still not down.”
“I know.” And he’s oh-so-tortured by the fact, breathing in your heat. You. “But I wanna- need to fuck you again, sweetness.”
Cooing, “Need to?”
He’s nodding- nodding and nodding until you’re wondering whether the long column of his neck doesn’t ache. “Yes, please- ngh, fucking hell, I have this sweet cunt all on top of me n’ I can’t even fuck you?”
You’re almost starting to giggle, the determined wobble of his lips just so cute where he held you- that is, until Ino’s fighting against his silky knot. Reeling backwards, he can barely even move at this point- only slow, sluggish humps that tug on the first ring of muscle at your cunt as if he was the one in heat.
And the stretch is so good that it makes your thighs weaken, nearly falling from their perch on top of his shoulders-
“No!” Startling you with a gasp, he swats his aching cockhead against your g-spot and watches you squirm. Panicked. Urgently holding your thighs back up, you can’t be finished- you can’t. “No no no- no- we’re not done yet, pretty, let me– let me…”
He’d read up online that heats can last about a week and he needed to fuck you till he physically can’t anymore. Till your slicked walls had memorized him.
Until he was wrung dry and raw, Ino’s plump thumb comes snaking down to press on the cute tummy bulge he was fucking into you. All bumpy with the solid press of his cock, doubled up on his wads of gooey cum, “Oh, sweetness, you’re not done with your h-heat yet, right?”
You’re shaking your head- difficult, with the way that his delicate grindings had your mouth watering with scorching saliva. Scent flaring, “N-no, still have more to go, baby.”
“Yessss—” Oh, you wonder if he even realizes what he’s doing when he’s using a free hand to pry apart your swollen folds. Letting out the rawest carnal squeeeelch! just as soon as he eases his knot out. “C’mere then- milk me dry.”
And he’s sensitive - so, so sensitive that those prettily blushing cheeks of his streak with tears by the time you’re bucking your hips up. Voice drunken, “Are you- ngh- okay, Taku?”
“Yes- yes, m’fine.” Stubbornly, he’s fucking his slender hips back in tiny, mindless ruts. Barely even pulling out, barely even able to handle being even inches outside of your warm cunt.
It felt like fucking heaven inside of you with every wad of cum webbing your walls, your pussy greedily sucking up each thrust - and it wasn’t just the heat, Ino was completely n’ utterly pussydrunk. Prattling through his flooding mouth, “F-fine, tooootally fine- jus’ helping you through your ngh- heat like a good boyfriend, sweetness.”
Oh, but Ino’s sing-song voice was toppling, his toned chest heaving.
Each singular swat of his geysering divot reached into your deepest depths and made you keen, “B-but you just- your knot-”
“And I can give you another one-” Tilting his head down to drink in your syrupy scent, it’s making him almost crazed. Almost feral- the entirety of his body runs stiff with a shiver once you throw your head back and clench- “Gonna give you all of them- so many- everything- make it so you c-can’t even walk-”
You’re being fucked into the rickety bedsprings like never before- and you can’t help but ogle at the way that Ino looked so pretty during it, too.
With half-lidded eyes boring deeply into you each time he’s bulldozing your g-spot, bangs gluing to his sweaty forehead like a curtain, rosy lips pursed and trembling-
“R-right?” He almost sounded as if he was on the verge of tears as soon as your cockdrunk reverie lasts just a tad too long. Eagerly tugging on your clit to goad the answer out of you- fuck, your heat had him ruining himself on your pussy. “Right, pretty?”
“Nghhhh– yes, Taku-” Each split-second punctuated with the constant motioning of his sloppy cadence, again. And again. And again and again and again until you’re losing count of how many bruises circle your poor cervix.
Ino doesn’t have the patience, he doesn’t have the need to even give you the time to think.
Big, pearly teardrops of overstimulation clinging onto his tawny lashes, “S-so you’re gonna be mine, aren’t you?”
His- his mate. It’s what he was begging for, it’s what he’s rovering his slimy tip between your folds and making you gush for.
“Yes-” Cooing, your back arches into the perfect curvature once a buttery glide of pre slips into your cunt at the answer. “Yes yes yes-” Your teeth skim across his throat and his ravaged cock flinches-
Clawing at the sheets himself, you could smell his own pheromones pitch up in response to yours. The temperature in the room sizzling so many degrees higher, the tips of his canines digging into the side of your neck hard enough to drag blood-
“Oh- oh, fuck–”
It could’ve been seconds later- it could’ve been hours.
But you could feel the way that Ino’s mouth trickled thin lines of saliva once he stares at the now-marked scent gland at your neck and drools. Knot dangerously smoochin’ your puckered folds now, “And our kids are gonna be the ngh- absolute fuckin’ cutest, sweetness.”
Oh.
♡ GOJO SATORU - PLEASE ME, BABY
“P-please.” Gojo’s spitting through the gaps of his long, honed canines- snowy brows scrunched and staring at you through such heady partially-lidded eyes.
He slicks out a thin trail of drool from the corner of his lips when another wave of your sweltering pheromones hit. Grunting. Pushin’ and pushin’ his face into the scent glands at your throat just to sniff—
“You’re not- ngh-” Whimpering. Shaking each time the gooey mess of your cunt was clenching ‘round his fat cock. He perks his slender hips up just enough to dig out a syrupy, ivory wad of cum from between your pussylips, “-you’re not done yet, right? This pussy’s still in h-heh…heat, right, sweetheart?”
It’s been hours by now since your heat had started - hours, maybe even days. The strongest had bitten you across every inch of your skin and was still ravenous for more.
You’d stuffed Gojo’s thick, black blindfold between his pretty mouth for that, just to make sure that you made it out of this alive. And yet, he’s still pumping his red, bulbous cockhead between your folds like an animal, still gasping in the perfume of your heat.
He growls, “Oh, please- please don’t you t-tell me s’over already.” Gnawing down on the fabric- he couldn’t help himself.
“F-fuck!” You mewl, clawing down the sweat-glazed mounds of his muscular back. Oh-so-feral. “Toru, it- ngh-”
But the strongest wasn’t letting you answer, as if he couldn’t even bear to hear a ‘no’ fall from your whiny lips. He swats the raw, reddened curve of his tip over n’ over repeatedly against your g-spot to make you salivate all stupidly down to your tits.
“Right?” Drunkenly, he’s sliiiiding his nose across your neck and gasping in the sweet scent of your pheromones. Voice cracking. Octaves higher. Eyes wild. “Right? She’s still in heat, my girl? She s-still needs me?”
The dangling edge of his dampened blindfold strikes your chin and you moan, trembling with each rovering of his numerous inches. “Yes- yes yes yes- I’m still mmm-”
And that very answer seemed to make his big, beefy frame shake on top of you. Like you’d just broken him.
You’re making him so weak- and he’s just so large with his white-tufted pelvis squishing down on your hips, until the skin surrounding his base was all rawly pink. Letting go of the blindfold, “O-oh…”
Collecting his breath for a mere second, Gojo sticks his clammy fingertips to the undersides of your thighs. Hoisting them with his strong arms onto his deltoids, he drags one palm behind his neck and keeps them locked - biceps bulging as he pushes you down, down, down.
A mating press.
“Perfect.” Keeping you pinned with only one hand, you can only watch as his handsome, flushed face tilts down with such a sleazy grin. “Mmmm, of course she does—-”
Of course. Of course. Trembling, he swipes the thick end of one of his thumbs down your slippery slit. “Look at her, she wants to be hck! filled up so badly.” The mere sight of those pearly white beads of seed from hours prior dribbling out of you, making his ravaged length twitch. Rolling over your clit, “Wants to be plugged up with my fat fucking knot, huh?”
His knot was just so achingly desperate where he was pushin’ it constantly against your treacly cunt. Again. And again. And again just teasing your first ring of muscle with the incredible circumference.
And it was a joke - partly. It was him babbling off of the top of his overheated scalp as he fucks you furiously into the rickety mattress.
But you’re throwing your head back and sobbing at the sheer stretching pressure put on your hamstrings.
“Please-” Gojo’s knot was just so big, the sheer girth enough to have your pupils roll dazedly in silly circles. You tremble, “Wan’ it ngh- inside again, Satoru.”
“Whoooo–?”
“…”
And Gojo has the audacity to giggle whilst he dredges up whatever’s remaining of his scattered brain, “C-c’mon, pretty omega- what do you call me~”
“…Alpha.” Pouting stubbornly, your pussy clamps eagerly down his base and he damn near creams himself right then and there. He’s swervin’ his v-line just right to stir your melty insides, slipping out husky grunts at every slap of his pre-glazed tip into your deepest insides.
“That’s right.” He breathes- pecs heaving, tone airy. There’s almost something fragile in the way he is right now. “Your heh- alpha’s gonna take care of you, sweetheart—-”
You could feel him rummaging your quivering cunt, wads of sap sloshing side-to-side after every one of his direct hits. They were just so accurate and making your toes curl. “Close- c-close, Toru.”
And he’s just growing more ruined on your saturated pussy by the second. At this point, you weren’t even sure which one of you was in heat - you or him.
Definitely him- you’re realizing through your addled mind when he’s whispering, “And m’gonna be the ngh- best alpha- the best…dad, too.”
Both you and Gojo - lightly - gasp in sensual unison, just as bewildered as you were.
Echoing out through a shallow breath, “The best dad…” His hazy peripherals fizz with slight bolts of cursed energy, like he’s following the rovering of his slimy tip inside of you like an x-ray. “Gonna- gonna wash the kids- oh, dress them, mmm h-help you feed them-”
Whimpering, once he’s cupping one of his free hands over the bouncing area of your tits. Groping. Parched mouth sucking—
“B-but I want some, too.”
The stimulation throwing you into such a frenzy, your wailing whines are practically feverish at this point. Eyes sparking with pure white behind your lids, “Please- not gonna mm last.”
“And m’gonna cook for them- and you, sweet momma-”
“Fuck-”
“Gonna take them to school, come right back home and ngh- fuck another one into ya all over again.”
“Satoru-”
“So cum-” Gojo groans, voicebox scratchy. His pale lashes flutter as his Six Eyes work into overdrive, he knew it wouldn’t be long now. He could see it. Smell it in your sweet, sweet pheromones. “Cum now because you’re gonna end up s-soooo pregnant already.”
And maybe it’s just because of your heat, maybe it’s because it’s him - but you’re cumming, easily.
Thighs twitching with each flash of your high, you’re sticking them to the side of Gojo’s toned obliques to let him pound you maddeningly through it. The only thing you can fucking do as he’s hunching his washboard abs into you with what sounds like a whimper. “Yeah- yeah yeah yeah- take it- fuh-fuck.”
Gojo counts exactly five solid pushes against your g-spot before he’s able to bully his thick knot inside - and oh, does it break him. He throws his head forwards, leaking enough cursed energy to make your bedroom lights spark, sapphire eyes tearing up glassily at the feeling of your warm, cushy walls.
Before you know it, before even he knows it- he’s sinking his gleaming fangs into the side of your neck and finishing.
Your pussy was just greedy, swallowing up every long creamy wad of his cum - layers upon layers being painted down your channel. There’s a noisy, lewd squelch! when it’s too much and you’re flooding out a puddle of ivory.
Finally, you’re blinking, your heat was was starting to bate-
“S-sweetheart…I think m’in rut.”
A/N. UGH I could take them all at once (not in a fight-) Also this song has been in my head omg-
explicit 18+ voodoo toy……. so oh my god imagine there was some voodoo doll type dildo that you bought at a random hole in the wall toy shop, label on the packaging claiming it was the most realistic one made to date and the price tag definitely reflected it. you liked the girth, the curve, the entire shape of it so much that the dent in your bank account didn’t seem to matter when you rushed to grab it off the shelf since it looked to be the only one in stock.
the voodoo part of it being where everytime you suck it and ride it, clark (and only clark specifically, from miles and miles away) could feel everything you’re doing to it and doesn’t even know what’s happening. doesn’t understand why his dick starts feeling so fucking good out of the blue. first time it happens it’s a mundane Sunday night, the same night you went to the toy shop and bought it. he’s lying on his back in bed reading when he feels a velvety magic invisible tongue-like pull begin slurping on his dick. licking up his balls, gulping him down like every inch was breakfast. and it made him pause, put a bookmark on the page he left on, stare down at his dick still sitting snug in his boxers and getting wetter by the minute.
he holds his breath and pinches his brows when all the sudden the tightest, wettest hole just seemed to start fucking itself silly on his cock like it was the most primal urge that needed to get sated, and only he could provide the fill. he doesn’t know what’s happening, doesn’t know how he can possibly be feeling these things as if someone really was on top of him fucking the shit out of his dick. he gasps when his dick twitches and bobs around like it’s having the most fulfilling fuck of its life, nearly knocking clark the fuck out when he slams his head back barely landing on his pillow and clenching his fists on the bedsheet.
the invisible pussy on top of him just bounces away, switching up angles that seemed to nudge her in her favorite places, angling the dildo so his curve grazes up against her tender spots. his yells echo in his empty bedroom as he cums so hard and so prematurely it began gushing out of him, and while you’re riding away on the dildo that unbeknownst to you was somehow physically tied and connected to clark’s real dick, you start to feel the warm splashes of cum roping out and you look down, out of breath from the most satisfying workout you’ve been able to have in awhile, seeing how it starts dripping out of you. and then you end up wondering if the package of the sex toy you bought even disclosed if it came with fake cum inside……
. . .
could potentially write up a whole freak fic of this if I have the inspo and the time lmfao I have so muchhh I wanna write this filth came to me in a psychic daydream ……. Magic dildo yum
𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 higuruma letting you take out your frustration on him. mdni.
The late afternoon light filtered through the half-closed blinds of Hiromi Higuruma’s modest law office, casting long stripes across the cluttered desk. Stacks of paperwork, divorce decrees, and financial disclosures sat in neat but weary piles. The air smelled faintly of old books, coffee, and the faint trace of his cologne—something woody and understated, like the man himself.
You were already straddling him in his worn leather office chair, skirt hiked up around your hips, panties long since discarded on the floor beside his polished shoes. Hiromi’s slacks were open just enough, his cock buried deep inside your slick, aching heat as you sank down onto him with a slow, deliberate roll of your hips. He let out a quiet, controlled exhale through his nose, one hand resting on your waist while the other held a pen and continued flipping through the final settlement documents.
“Keep going,” he murmured, voice low and steady, eyes scanning the page in front of him even as you began to bounce. “Tell me everything. Don’t hold back.”
You braced your hands on his shoulders, thighs flexing as you lifted and dropped yourself onto his thick length. The wet sound of your pussy sliding up and down his cock filled the quiet office, obscene against the soft rustle of paper.
“He never touched me like this,” you gasped, rolling your hips in a filthy circle that made his cock nudge against that perfect spot inside you. “Six years of marriage and it was like… like I was just there. Convenient. He’d finish in two minutes and roll over like I was nothing.”
Hiromi hummed, almost thoughtfully, turning a page with his free hand. His cock twitched inside you, but his expression remained composed—those sharp, tired eyes focused on the legalese even while your slick juices coated his shaft and dripped down onto his balls. “Unacceptable,” he said calmly. “A partner should attend to their spouse’s needs. Thoroughly.”
You moaned louder, bouncing harder. The chair creaked beneath you both as you fucked yourself on him, breasts straining against your blouse. Each downward thrust sent pleasure sparking up your spine, frustration and relief twisting together.
“Every night I’d lie there… so fucking wet, so desperate,” you continued, breath hitching. “And he’d say he was tired. Or that I was too much. Too demanding.” Your nails dug into his suit jacket as you rode him faster, the wet slap of skin on skin growing louder. “I wanted to be fucked. I wanted to feel wanted. Not like some… obligation.”
Hiromi’s grip on your waist tightened, guiding you just a little deeper on the next bounce. A faint flush had crept up his neck, but he still managed to circle a clause on the document with his pen. “And now you’re free of that,” he said, voice rougher around the edges. “No more half-measures. Take what you need from me, as many times as you want.”
You whimpered, grinding down hard so his cock pressed right against your cervix, clit rubbing against his pelvis with every frantic movement. The tension of the divorce, the years of neglect, the cold bed—it all poured out of you in a flood of words and moans as you chased your pleasure on his lap.
“I’m so tired of being patient,” you panted, riding him like you’d been starved for it. “I want to be selfish. I want to cum until I can’t think.”
“Then do it,” Higuruma replied, finally setting the pen down so both hands could grip your ass, helping you bounce faster. His dark eyes met yours for the first time in minutes, intense and unblinking. “Use me. I can handle it. I can handle all of it.”
Your walls clenched tight around him as the orgasm built, hot and vicious. You slammed down onto his cock again and again, recounting every slight, every lonely night, every unsatisfying encounter—until the words dissolved into broken cries. Pleasure crashed over you hard, your pussy pulsing and gushing around his length as you came with a shuddering moan.
Hiromi groaned softly, burying his face against your neck as he held you down on him through it, letting you milk every last throb from his cock. The paperwork lay forgotten on the desk now, slightly rumpled from the motion.
When you finally caught your breath, still seated on him, he pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss just below your ear. “Sign here when you’re ready,” he murmured, voice husky. “And if you need another… session to work through the rest of that frustration, my schedule is open for you.” His cock, still hard and twitching inside your sensitive cunt, made it very clear he meant every word.
synopsis ; being the forgotten princess came with the solitude that you crave, the freedom that you love, and the joy that you'll forever cherish. however, that tranquility is ripped away from you when your father announces your marriage to the water nation's king. you were forced to comply, being whisked away to an unknown land where you were sure to be your grave, yet when a maid helps you escape, you're met with mingi, the lost dragon descendant, who not only saves you, but helps you regain your freedom.
pairing(s) ; mingi x f!reader
☆ ── wc. ; 19.8k
☆ ── genre ; fantasy, romance, minimal angst, smut, fluff, historical, dragon shifter/descent duke!mingi x princess!reader
☆ ── tw. ; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, mentions of forced marriage (not with mingi), crying, blood, mentions and depictions of death/murder, death threats, petnames (princess, my love, love, sweetheart, pretty girl...), mentions of pregnancy, mingi is super protective of reader, violence, mentions of mates, a tinge of deception, arguments, mingi is kinda mean and ruthless (not towards reader), kissing, some skinship, slight wound care/injury recovery, mingi is a water dragon and can spew boiling water, passing out (injury related), mingi is just a simp lowkey, NSFW ; monster fucking, virgin!reader, sloppy makeout, fingering, begging, unprotected sex, dom!mingi x sub!reader, oral (f. receiving), big dick!mingi/monster cock, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, biting/marking, manhandling, some praising, clit play, some teasing, breeding/mating, dumbification, rough sex, cum eating, slight breast play, bulge kink, knotting, creampie, slight cockwarming, dacryphilia, cervix fucking/bruising, lmk if I missed anything!!
☆ ── notes ; he's hereeeeee!!! hehe this was smth that started as a joke between me and @sangis-puppy but as you can see it didn't stay a joke :33 now this was only supposed to be like 5/6k but that didn't happen... I got a little carried away with the plot. also special thanks to @xtrashxbunnyx for being my beta reader and giving me your raw reactions, mwahhh~
⏤͟͟͞͞ JOIN THE TAGLIST ── MASTERLIST NAVI ── MAIN NAVI
"You are to marry that king; this is not up for discussion." Your father's voice echoed all around the large office, his words piercing right through your heart.
"Father…" You breathe out, hands gripping the skirt of your dress so tight that it begins to color your knuckles a ghostly shade of white. Sure, you had never been the most favored out of all of your siblings, nor were you in line for the throne—never had been. Yet you never thought your father would stoop as low as to marry you off to another nation just for money, which he had plenty of.
"This is for the better of the kingdom, y/n." Your mother cut in from her spot just behind your father, her hands folded in front of her body, just like you had been taught before you could even remember.
You couldn't even think of anything to say, nor was there anything to be said. There was no way you were getting out of this. So as tears brimmed in your eyes, you tried to muster up a smile, one that felt like it was tearing into your skin. Quietly lowering yourself into a curtsy, you agreed to your father's proposition.
"They will arrive in two days' time. You are to be prepared in advance." Your father continued, his gaze scrutinizing you. Then he was looking behind you, right at his royal advisor, "Jisung, show the Princess back to her room."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Jisung's quiet voice flows through your ringing ears, and he bows his head before his gaze shifts over to you, "this way, Your Highness."
The walls of the room seemed to be closing in on you as you turned slowly on your heel, and the tears that stung the back of your eyes seemed to grow. Your heart was thumping violently against the sturdy bones of your ribs, threatening to break free. Yet you could only will yourself to follow the raven-haired male out of the office, hands still clutching your dress skirt, the fabric nearly tearing under your fingernails.
Not a word was spoken as you both walked down the hall, your heels clicking on the marble floors. A few maids were walking down the hall, bowing to you in greeting before going on about their day. You tried to smile at them, trying to be the nice princess that they all knew you as, but as you thought about how your life was about to take a turn for the possibly worst, you just couldn't.
"We've arrived, Your Highness," Jisung announced, motioning towards your bedroom as he held the heavy door open for you.
You thanked him quietly, walking into the luxurious bedroom, and as soon as you walked past the threshold, your knees became weak.
"Your maids have already packed everything, you'll be fetched when their caravan arrives." You look over your shoulder at him, nodding your head before watching him walk out of the room, and the door closes.
As soon as the latch clicked behind him, your knees gave out, falling to the ground, and sobs tore through your lips. Your cries bounced off the walls, the pain that had been sitting idly in your chest finally coming free.
—
Two days later, just like Jisung and your father had said, the water kingdom's men arrived at your castle. Not a word was uttered from your lips as you were escorted to the carriage, the tears in your eyes long since dried up, leaving behind an empty numbness.
"Think of the people, my dear sister," Your brother, who had your arms hooked through his, as he walked you through the palace gates.
The sound of your inexpensive heeled boots echoed off the pavement; they were given to you just this morning by your mother's maids. They were to keep the water from seeping through to your feet. They were a parting gift, one that your mother couldn't be bothered to give you herself. Just like she couldn't be bothered to be here to see you off as you were whisked away to an unknown kingdom.
"What people, brother? We've never had any affiliation with the Water Nation, so why now?" Your words came out hoarse from having not spoken for days, throat rubbed raw from endless hours of crying.
"Don't worry yourself about the little things, just do as you're told, and you'll be happy." Those were the last words that your dear brother had spoken to you before you were ushered into the carriage, the unfamiliar maids fixing your gown inside.
Maybe your brother was right. Maybe this was for the best of the people, for a reason you don't even fully understand. Maybe if you just played the role of a dutiful wife, you could live comfortably.
Those were the types of thoughts that ran through your head during the ride, the world outside you blurring past. You hadn't even registered that someone was speaking to you until you felt an impatient tap to your arm. Blinking a few times to try and clear your mind, you looked over, finding one of the maids looking at you expectantly.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" Your voice was merely above a whisper, and the woman let out a sigh, her face relaxing slightly before she spoke.
"The king does not want to wait for a ceremony. He's asked to officiate the marriage as soon as we arrive at the palace." She explained to you, and you felt your heart seize in your chest, your breath hitched, words stalling on your tongue.
You had believed that you would have a little time to fully understand the predicament you had been placed in. A few days at least to become comfortable in your home before you are dragged to the man's chambers. At least to have some time to grieve the life you once believed you'd live.
But in just a short amount of time, that small flame of hope had been snuffed out.
"We'll take you to your chambers to change into a new gown fit for the Water Nation, then you're to meet with the king in the grand halls." She continued to explain, but her words all but fell on deaf ears as you began to realize the severity of what you were to do.
Out. Get out. You needed to get out.
Your brain kept repeating that mantra, the sounds drowning out anything around you. Tears brimmed along your waterline, but never fell. Not until the carriage came to a stop and the door swung open.
"We've arrived, Your Highness," The maid motioned towards the open door, waiting for you to move, and with your breath caught in your throat, you moved, stepping out of the carriage with shaky knees.
Stepping onto the pavement below the carriage, you looked up at the palace before you. The glittering blue stones reflected the setting sun beautifully. It gave the illusion that you were standing below the ocean's surface. It was beautiful, but it was also your prison.
"Right this way, Your Highness," A butler motioned towards the palace gates with a bow, and you swallowed past the lump in your throat. Your eyes flickered to your surroundings, taking note of how lively everything here looked compared to the Fire Nation that you called your home.
Birds chirped above you in an almost sing-song way, and your head snapped in their direction, having only heard tales of the creatures. A part of you felt like a child exploring a new land and learning new things, but as you heard the heavy palace doors open, that small child inside you cowered into the furthest depths of your soul.
Your jaw clenched tightly as you stepped inside, heart raging against your chest, and as soon as your heeled boot met the smooth marble flooring, you felt a wave of chilled air wash over you. Goosebumps littering your naturally warm skin. Then the doors behind you slammed shut, the loud sound causing you to jump as it reverberated off the walls. Looking behind you, you only found one of the maids behind you, while the butler stayed a few steps ahead.
Get out, now. You're not safe here.
There it was again. That same little voice in the back of your mind, pleading with you to go. Warning you of the dangers that lurked in the walls of this palace. You were no fool; you knew how cruel the king of the Water Nation was. How he has gone through at least a dozen wives, all having died due to either childbirth or mysterious reasons.
Was that the same fate that awaited you? Were you going to become merely another wife who met a bitter, bitter end? Would it be the labor of childbirth or the abuse you may face? A part of you hopes for the earlier option, at least you'd leave this world with an offering for a peaceful passage.
No.
No, you mustn't let yourself think like that. You would be the one who survives. The one that makes it out alive. The one who escapes that fate that awaits her.
The one that got away.
You weren't sure how long you had been walking, nor how far you had traveled into the palace. Just that when you finally pulled yourself from your thoughts, you were standing before a luxurious bedroom. The inside, much like the rest of the palace, was decorated in ocean blues and turquoise.
"The maids inside will help you dress, then you'll be escorted to the main hall." The butler explained before motioning you into the room, and you gave him a curt nod, eyes downcast as you walked inside.
The heavy door latched shut behind you, and your stomach twists violently as your one escape route has been closed off. Walking further into the room, you unfolded your hands that had been neatly placed in front of you, taking in the sight of the nearly translucent blue gown that was displayed. Bile crept up the lining of your throat, knowing that this gown would do just about anything but protect your modesty.
A small gasp fell from your lips when someone grabbed a hold of your arm. Head snapping over you found a young girl, her hands gentle on your thinly covered skin as she urged you towards a side room. That's when you realized that it was only her and one other maid who was fidgeting next to a vanity.
Not a word was spoken as she guided you towards a steaming bath, the area closed off from the rest of the room by a thin curtain. You wanted to speak as she helped you shrug off the complicated layers of your current gown, but the words glued themselves to your tongue.
"Why have you come here?" Her sudden voice startles you, and you look over at her with wide eyes. No maid has ever spoken so freely to you, let alone hold your gaze as she does. "I don't mean to come off brazen, but this place is not for you; you will only find misery here, Princess."
"I—" The words once again stuck themselves to the lining of your throat as you stood before her in nothing but your undergarments.
But you didn't have to speak for her to see it in your eyes. The hard edges of her face softened, and she carefully reached for your hand, her skin unnaturally cold to the touch. "You must leave at once."
"I… I can't." You started, the tears you had tried so hard to keep at bay began to drip from your lashes, "I wouldn't even know where to go."
"You won't have much time, but the drop from the balcony isn't very high. From there, you go north, you'll find the sea, and I'm sure there will be boats." She explained to you in a hushed, hurried tone as her grip tightened around your shaking hands, "If there are no boats, then you shall find a cavern, find refuge in there, you'll be safe, I can assure you."
You looked at her with wide, teary eyes, completely unsure if you could trust her word, but the sincerity that gleamed in her eyes gave you back that shred of hope you thought snuffed out. It took you a few long moments before you were nodding, and she offered you a small, pitiful smile.
"We must bathe you first, only after we redress you can you go." She explained, furthering her words by telling you that the other maid will leave once she is dressed.
So that's what you did, you let yourself sink into the steaming waters of your bath. As you washed away the grime from the trip, you couldn't help but let your gaze drift to the girl who had turned to gather a towel for you. Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun that you were sure was hurting her scalp, but what intrigued you was the color. What you had believed to be black was actually a deep midnight blue, only noticeable when the setting sun beamed through the small windows.
Then you swore you saw what looked like scales on her collarbone when she bent down, the hem of her dress dropping just a hair. Though you chalked it up to a trick of the eye when she stood, holding a towel in her hand as she helped you stand.
You wrapped the soft cotton around your body before allowing her to lead you back into the main chambers. Her demeanor shifted back into the meek girl you had met the first time you walked into the room, and the other maid walked over, none the wiser to the conversation that had just transpired, and grabbed your other arm.
Once again, the room fell into a still silence, not a word spoken, and the only sounds were the rustling of fabric as both maids worked together to fit you into the gown. Your eyes flickered over to the balcony door that sat ajar on the far left side of the room. The cool breeze from outside washes over you every so often.
"Maid Yang, please finish prepping the princess while I go make sure everything in the grand hall is settled." The older maid spoke softly as she finished fastening your corset, and you felt your heart leap into your throat.
"Yes, ma'am." The younger girl bows before turning to lead you to the vanity, her gaze shifting over her shoulder as she watches the other woman walk out of the room.
The two of you stopped moving as she slipped out, the heavy doors shutting behind her, and a long beat of silence passed between you and the younger girl. Then, once she was sure that no one would venture into the room once more, she grabbed your arm in a hurried manner, ushering you towards the open balcony door.
"Go. Now." Her voice was stern as she peeked over her shoulder when you neared the edge of the balcony, nothing but plush green grass a few feet below. The drop wasn't deadly, but you would definitely gain a few scratches and bruises if you were lucky to avoid any broken bones.
"Thank you." You breathed out with a smile as you turned to look at the younger girl, a pang of guilt hitting your chest. You knew that if you left, you would only be leaving her to take the punishment of letting you escape, but right now, all you could do was make sure that her efforts to help you wouldn't be in vain.
"Go live a better life, Princess," She offered you a sweet smile as she helped you over the ledge of the balcony, your bare feet nearly slipping on the smooth marble.
Then, with one last nod of appreciation, you jump from the balcony, tucking your body to try and minimize as much damage as you could. A sharp gasp fell from your lips as your body collided and rolled on the grass; the ache alone was enough to tell you that you'd definitely have bruises within the next few hours. Without sparing another second, you leaped to your feet, glancing back just in time to see the girl disappear back into the palace, and that's when you realized.
You never got her name.
But you didn't have time to dwell on the trivial things; you needed to get as far away as you could before they sent guards after you. So you ran without looking back, hands gripping the skirt of your dress as your bare feet trudged through the grass. You could feel the thin edges of the grass blades slicing through your bare skin, but the pain was in the back of your mind, pushed even further as you heard shouting in the distance behind you.
Your heart rang in your ears, legs burning as you continued to push yourself closer and closer to the beach. And you couldn't help but cry out when it came into view, tears blurring your vision. As soon as your feet touched the warm sand, you looked around for any signs of a boat.
With heavy breaths, you rushed towards a small fishing boat you saw tied to the pier closest to shore. Your hands trembled as you fought with the rope knot, and sobs tore through your throat. Then the voices grew closer, and your head whipped around.
"There she is!" The head guard shouted as he pointed at you, and your eyes grew wide.
"No, no, no." You weren't going to be able to get that knot undone in time. No, you needed to run before they caught up fully. So, remembering the cavern that the maid had mentioned to you, you ran, kicking sand up in your wake.
"After her!" The kingsmen shouted again, and you barely heard him over the sound of the waves crashing over the rigid rocks near the shore. They only seemed to get angrier the further you ran, as if they were warning you about something unknown or angry about the horde of men that were on your heels.
As you neared the rocky formation on the far side of the beach, your gaze swept all over, trying to find an entrance. Pain shot through the soles of your feet as the jagged rocks sliced your skin wide open, leaving behind trails of crimson blood in your wake. But the pain didn't deter you, no, if anything, it only spurred you on.
Then you finally spotted the entrance as you rounded the corner, and the gaping hole loomed over you as you stopped dead in your tracks. However, the sound of the nearing kingsmen had you pushing your fear to the side and rushing inside just as one managed to grab your arm.
"Let me go!" You screamed, clawing at his hand, and whether it be the pain of your nails in his skin or the silk of your sleeve, you slipped from his grasp and stumbled into the dark cavern. You tried to regain your balance, but your body seemed to be working against you, and you fell to the ground.
"There's nowhere else to run, Princess." The guard's gruff voice sent a shiver down your spine, and tears blurred your vision as you crawled back.
Sobs tore through your lips as they started to surround you in the dark space, and you knew that there was no escaping. You never should have thought about running, knowing that the fate that awaited you was far worse than before. Tears spilled from your eyes as you squeezed them shut, waiting for them to grab you and drag you back to the palace.
A deep growl echoed around the cavern. The sound came from behind you, and your body went rigid. A newfound fear encased your entire being. Not only had the kingsmen caught up to you, but you ran right into a beast's home. At least this outcome would be far sweeter than what the king would do to you once he had his hands on you.
The ground beneath you began to rumble as whatever was behind you shifted; that same growl was heard once more, louder this time. You didn't dare look back, knowing by the sound and the shift in the ground that whatever it was behind you was huge.
"Beast!" One of the guards shouted, drawing their swords, and the man, before he reached towards you. However, before his hand could make contact with you, a large claw swung, throwing the man across the cavern. Even in the dim lighting, you could make out the glittering blue scales on the claw that now sat beside your body.
Despite the fear that held your body captive, you allowed your head to tilt back, tears silently flowing from the corner of your eyes. Your mouth parted, breath catching on the inhale as you saw the head of the beast looming over you.
The head of a beast that you had only seen skulls of in your father's study. One that the people believed to have gone extinct after the war over two decades ago. The scales and horns are a distinct mark of a reptile that you've heard countless tales about, even the tales of people who could shift into these beasts. They were believed to be of dragon descent.
Though you never thought you'd live to see a dragon.
"Kill it and grab the princess." Another guard growled as he charged with his men, and your head snapped back down at the rushed footsteps.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you tried to move away, but your limbs felt like jelly and refused to work with you. A choked gasp fell from your lips when you felt something coil around your waist. Before you could look, your body was lifted from the ground, pulled back until your back met the smooth stone of the cavern wall.
Everything happened way too fast, the shouting. The growls. The cries of pain. Then the low rumble of something building, and your eyes grew wide as you watched the scales on the creature's neck begin to glow a bright blue hue. It slowly rose up its neck, and you didn't even catch the guards screaming to run before a loud roar echoed around you. The sound was loud enough for your ears to ring even after you covered them with your skinned palms.
The once-dim cavern lit up blue as the dragon spewed something that closely resembled water, but it glowed. An almost unbearable heat filled the cavern as the boiling water landed on the guards around the dragon.
Then it was silent.
No more screaming or yelling. No more growling. No more roaring. Just… silence.
A pained cry ripped from your lips when the water spread across the cavern floors, pooling around your feet and burning the bare skin. Tears escaped your lips as you tried to scramble away, but accidentally placed your hand in the burning liquid.
The sound of a low, guttural growl has you stopping dead in your tracks despite the pain that coursed through your veins. Looking up, you found a pair of glowing blue eyes staring down at you, the sight shocking you straight to your core. You watched with hitched breath as it stepped towards you, tail flicking behind it and all but throwing the unmoving bodies from your sight.
"Y-You…" You tried to speak, but the words stuck themselves to the roof of your mouth when its tail moved towards you once more. You didn't move an inch as it wrapped around you, but unlike the fear that you had felt moments ago, there was something comforting about the way it tightened around you. Never enough to stop you from breathing, but just enough to make sure you wouldn't slip from its grasp.
You held your breath as it lifted you from the ground, moving your body further into the cavern, but you couldn't see anything. Then your body was being sat down, and you expected more stone, but were met with the cool sensation of water. The chill instantly soothes the searing pain in the soles of your feet, and you nearly cry out in relief.
When its tail released its grip, your body dropped into the shallow water, soaking your gown and sending a chill through you. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to get up; instead, you stayed on your knees, letting the water cool the burns and blisters that had begun to form on your soles and palms.
The sound of movement caught your attention, and you turned your head to find those glowing blue eyes staring down at you. Swallowing thickly, you rose up on your knees, pulse throbbing at the base of your throat.
"T-Thank you." You stumble over the simple thanks, voice hoarse due to all the crying, and you could feel your body begin to grow weak as the adrenaline wore off. You weren't sure why the dragon had helped you; maybe it thought you'd make a good meal, and the others were just in the way. Or it was just saving you for last. Whichever it was would be a better outcome than before, so you were willing to accept it as your vision swam, your mind shutting off, and your body swaying before crashing into the water.
The creature let out a grunt before moving closer to the water, its form shimmering and shifting until a man stood where the dragon once did. His blue eyes never left your limp form, a curiosity bubbling in his chest the longer he watched you, and a familiar warmth spread through his body. Stepping into the water, he grabbed your lax body, pulling you into his arms, and as soon as your shallow breath met the skin of his chest, he knew.
You were the mate he had been waiting for.
His key to going back home.
—
You stirred with a groan, joints aching and protesting with every move as you tried to sit up. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, burning slightly. The area around you was bathed in a warm glow, nothing like the darkness you seemed to recall. Then you remembered where you were and your head whipped around.
What you had expected to find was the same dragon that you had seen before. The one who had protected you from the kingsmen and helped with your burns. However, what you were met with instead was a man, his sharp features illuminated by the orange hues of the fire that he sat next to. But what caused your breath to hitch was the horns that sat upon his head and the familiar blue hues that stared right at you.
"You're awake." His deep voice echoes in your ears, and you blink at him, "The burns were pretty severe, so I put a salve on them; they shouldn't hurt for much longer."
Looking down, you saw that your left hand and both feet had been wrapped with bandages. Curiosity seemed to defeat the fear at that moment. You wondered where the large beast had gone, but as you met the man's eyes once more, you seemed to already know your answer.
"Who are you?" You asked, voice meek as you carefully moved to face him fully, and his eyes shifted down for a few seconds before meeting your eyes once more.
"I should be asking you that," He cocked an eyebrow, setting the stick he had been using to poke the fire off to the side. "The people of this Nation know better than to travel into these caverns, but you? You rushed right in as if you didn't know what lies inside."
"I'm…" Your words caught around the lump that had formed in your throat, and you quickly swallowed it back down, "I'm not from this Nation."
Your answer seemed to intrigue the male before you, and his blue eyes searched your face with a curious gaze. "Where are you from?"
"The Fire Nation." You tell him, placing your hands into your lap, eyes following when his intense gaze becomes too much. It was then that you realized that you were still wearing the gown the king had picked out, and heat rushed up your neck.
"Well, Princess," His words and tone cause your head to snap up. You hadn't told him that you were the princess, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out when the guards had been screaming it. "Why did you come here?"
"My father wanted to marry me off to the Water Nation's King." You weren't sure why you were telling this strange man something so easily, but the words just flowed out naturally. Inhaling deeply, you fully introduce yourself, and Mingi just watches with an unreadable expression, annoyance flickering in his blue orbs when you mention the source of the dress you are wearing.
Once your voice trailed off, the cavern fell into an eerie silence, one that left the hairs on the back of your neck standing tall. Then the man was standing, moving towards you, and you felt your pulse quicken with every step until he was kneeling before you. His dark blue hair framed his face, sharp eyes boring into your own, but you didn't see any sign of hostility.
"My name is Song Mingi," He introduced himself, and your eyes grew wide. You had heard that name in tales since you were a mere teen; he was a dragon descendant duke who was loved by his people and feared by other nations. It was believed that he had died in the war, but as you studied his face, you knew that hadn't been true. It also confirmed your earlier suspicion that he was, in fact, the dragon that had been lurking in this cavern.
"Why have you hidden here? You're a duke." You stated in shock, eyes growing wide as he reached forward and took your injured hand into his. His skin was cool against yours, but it didn't stop the warmth spreading through your body. It felt as if there were a magnetic pull towards him, one you couldn't fight.
"My uncle, he's taken over the estate while I was gone, and I haven't had the strength to return." He began explaining, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your knuckles. Mingi's eyes never once left yours, and you couldn't find it in you to look away even when his next words shocked you: "I need your help, princess."
You couldn't disconcert if he was calling you by your title or a petname, either way it had your heart jumping. His gentle touch had your muscles relaxing, and you blinked slowly as his request settled in your mind.
"My help? What could I possibly do to help you?" You asked, fingers flexing in his grasp when his thumb brushed over the bandage, but the lingering pain was nothing compared to your confusion and curiosity.
"The only reason my uncle's heirs have kept the estate is simply that they believe me to be dead," He tells you, his eyes flittering down to your hand when he felt your pulse jump.
"So why don't you return? They could giv—"
"Yet they will not. They have had it in their grasp for far too long. I need to secure my spot, and to do so, I need to prove I can further my lineage." He explains further, gaze moving up to meet yours with expectant eyes, and it didn't take but a moment for you to realize what he was asking.
"You want me to be your bride?" You asked, voice but a whisper, scared that if you spoke any louder, you'd bring your earlier panic back.
Mingi hummed, fingers tightening around yours firmly when you tried to pull away, "Just for a while, then once I have the estate back, you'll be free to leave and go as you please."
You wanted to tell him that he was crazy, that he had no right to ask this of you when you had just run from a marriage. Yet as you met his blue eyes, you could hear that little voice in the back of your mind again, but this time it wasn't telling you to run. Rather, it was telling you that you were safe.
That you were home.
It only confused you, and you wished you could ask what in the great heavens it meant, but alas, you couldn't. However, as you looked into the man's eyes, you couldn't help but feel that the voice was right. So despite your earlier reservations, you found yourself nodding, eyes scanning his face and lingering on the smooth patches of scales that sat underneath his eyes.
"What about the king?" You asked, eyes returning to his, and your heart leapt at the sight of the smile that tugged on his plump lips.
"Even the king wouldn't dare defy a dragon descendant, let alone a shifter," Mingi reassured you, and his warm smile mixed with his gentle presence was enough to have you relax.
"When would we leave?" Your question was answer enough for the dragon, and he hummed softly, eyes gazing back down at your hand.
"Let's get these healed first, then we can deal with other things after." He told you, bringing your hand to his face, and your eyes grew wide as heat flushed your face when he pressed his lips over the bandage. "Need you healed for a proper return."
The first few days were awkward, unsure what you were to do in such a confined space or what to say to the man who never left your eyesight. You tried to make small talk, but it always fizzled out after a few sentences, and you were left with your eyes downcast, the tips of your ears burning red.
However, the following days seemed to go by more easily; Mingi always made sure that you were fed and that your bandages were taken care of, even going as far as to bring you a change of clothes. He was nothing like the stories had described him to be. The cold and ruthless man you had read about was nowhere to be found; only the gentle giant who treated you as if you were a doll.
By the end of the second week, you had grown comfortable around the man; the earlier awkwardness was nowhere in sight. You found yourself talking to him about your life in the fire palace while he told you stories from the war, even about his own family.
You found yourself growing close to the blue-haired male, his kind ocean eyes all but pulling you further in. The more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself drawn to him, fingers itching to reach out and touch him, brain begging you to do so, but you kept your restraint. You chalked it up to it being that he had been your only companion for the past few weeks.
Then by the middle of the third week, Mingi was walking back into the cavern with a beautiful gown in his arms, and you knew that it was time. You stood from the log you had been sitting on, dusting your hands off on the skirt of your current dress, eyes flickering from his smiling face to the blue gown in his arms.
"For you, Princess." He walked up to you, his larger frame towering over you, and your breath caught in your throat as you smelled the sea salt on his skin. You swallowed thickly before reaching out to take the gown, ignoring the emotions that bubbled in your gut.
"It's beautiful, Mingi, thank you." You murmured as you blinked up at him, and he gave you a lopsided smile.
"Go ahead and put it on, we'll leave in the evening." He nodded down at you, and your eyes went wide.
"But the estate is at least a three-day trek from here."
The blue-haired dragon chuckled as he placed his large hand upon your head, "Who says we're walking?"
You wanted to ask him what in the world he could possibly mean, but he was already moving around you, fingers reaching for the buttons of his tunic. Your eyes went wide as he began removing his tunic. Heat enveloped your body the longer you watched him undress. A soft gasp fell from your lips when he reached for the button of his trousers, hands bringing your new gown to your face, and the sound of Mingi's chuckles filled the air.
You didn't dare to move the cloth, unsure as to what the man was doing or if he was still indecent. Then you felt a large huff of air wash over you, and your breath hitched. Slowly bringing the gown away from your face, your eyes went wide at the sight of the large dragon that was now standing before you, his glowing blue eyes looking down at you.
This time, you couldn't help but stare at his blue scales, glittering under the orange firelight. Nothing but wander filled your eyes as he brought his head down, your hand instinctively reaching up and allowing him to nuzzle into your now-healed palm. His scales were cool to the touch, much like his skin was. Your hand didn't hold a candle to the sheer size of his snout, and when his mouth opened with a hum, you couldn't help but smile at the soft noise.
He then moved his tail towards you, poking the dress in your arms with the tip. Understanding what was meant, you dropped your hand and took a step back. He moved towards the entrance before sitting down, giving you one last glance before averting his attention elsewhere and giving you some privacy.
You didn't waste any time in undressing yourself, holding back a shiver as the cool air of the cavern washed over you. The dress was a beautiful ocean blue, one that closely resembled the scale on Mingi's body. It was a floor-length gown with a sweetheart neckline, and the sheer sleeves flowed past your hands, nearly touching the ground by your feet. You struggled with the bodice for a few moments but managed to set it before flattening out the layered skirt with your hands, fingers catching on the dangling jewels.
"It's beautiful." You spoke in awe as you looked down, twirling slightly, and you heard a high-pitched chirp, causing you to look over. Mingi had turned his head and his gaze focused solely on you, and you looked at him with a bashful gaze.
Swallowing thickly, you thanked the large reptile before grabbing his discarded messenger bag and stuffing his clothes inside, knowing he'd need them once you arrived at your destination. Once you were sure you had everything, you grabbed the heels that Mingi had brought with the gown and moved towards his larger form.
"Let's get this show on the road, Duke Song." You smiled up at him, and he bowed his head slightly before rising back to his full height. He moved out of the large mouth of the cavern, and you followed closely behind, careful of his swaying tail.
Once you were both outside, you could see the remnants of the setting sun, the sky painted in beautiful hues of oranges and purples. You took a moment to look, eyes tracing every curve until you felt a small nudge against your back, and you looked over your shoulder at the large blue-scaled dragon who had lowered his body to the ground. Your heart races at the thought of what he was insinuating, but you knew that this was all part of the plan, nothing more, nothing less.
So you slipped your heels onto your feet before carefully pulling yourself onto the dragon's back, careful of the spines that jutted out. You fix his bag around your body before wrapping one hand around the spine in front of you and tapping his side with the other, letting him know that you are ready.
You held your breath when he began to move, his wings spreading wide as he neared the cliff edge. The colors of his scales were even more beautiful under the setting sun; the mixture of dark ocean blues and vibrant turquoise was mesmerizing.
A sharp gasp then fell from your lips when he took off, the speed enough to knock the air from your lungs as you clung tightly to his back. Tears started to sting in the corner of your eyes due to the harsh winds, and your chest felt tight because of the lack of proper oxygen. You weren't sure how long this went on for, but before long, his body evened out, and the rush of air lessened, allowing you to finally breathe properly.
"My goodness…" You breathed out as you let your teary eyes flutter open, gaze falling on the city below you before flickering to the glittering sea on the other side. It was beautiful.
Though the high altitude made it difficult to breathe, Mingi made sure to stay low enough that it wouldn't harm you. The last thing he wanted or needed was for you to pass out mid-flight, where he would risk hurting you as he caught you.
You couldn't help the child-like laughter that bubbled out of your chest as you looked around. The sight was something that you would etch into every crevice of your mind, knowing that you wouldn't get the chance to see it again.
Then the sky darkened, and stars began to appear one by one, and your eyes widened. You never got the chance to see the stars aside from trips to the Earth region when you were younger. The smoke from the ever-burning forests in the Fire Nation clouded the sky, blocking your view of the stars. So you soaked in the sight, connecting the consolations you had read about so many times in books from the old shelves of the library.
Mingi's head turned just enough so he could see your wander-filled gaze, and he felt his heart thump against his strong ribs. His blue hues studied your face, making note to bring you out more in the future and hoping that you stayed long enough for you to let him.
It was the dead of the night by the time the Duke's estate came into view as Mingi descended towards the ground. Your grip tightened on the spine in front of you as the harsh winds returned and your breath caught in your throat when he landed, the vibration of the rumble shot through your body nearly making you lightheaded.
The sound was enough to bring the attention of the people residing in the estate. You could hear gasps and shouts as Mingi lowered his body, allowing you to slide from his scaly back. Moving around his large body, you came face-to-face with two men who were dressed peckishly as well as a woman with a child on her hip, then a crowd of what you could only guess were their maids and servants behind them.
"H-How is this possible?" The older man in the front spoke, his voice showing his age as he stumbled forward. Disbelief etched into his features, and you felt movement behind you.
"Greetings, uncle, it has been a long time, hasn't it?" Mingi's voice flowed into your ears, and you turned your head just enough to catch sight of his half-turned form, his horns still sitting perfectly in his azure locks. A blush formed on your cheeks as you realized that he was standing before his family without any proper clothing, and you quickly handed him the messenger bag. "Thank you, my love."
Your heart leapt at the petname, mouth going dry, and all you could do was muster up a smile. The feeling of eyes boring into your side made you acutely aware of the nobility that stood before you, but you had to remind yourself that you were a princess—royalty.
"Cousin, you should know you aren't welcome here." The other man spoke, and your eyes flickered over to him, a sudden rush of annoyance ripping through your body, and you couldn't stop the scoff that escaped your lips.
"If anyone isn't welcome here, it's the likes of you. You all are nothing but illegitimate blood hoarding something that was never yours to begin with." You seethed, eyes narrowing as you glared at the man, and Mingi stopped mid-button to look at you in shock before a ghost of a smirk spread on his lips.
"You wrench! Who gave you the right to speak to me like that?" The man seethed, stepping closer to you, but stopped dead in his tracks when a low growl reverberated from deep within Mingi's chest, his eyes glowing in warning.
"That is my wife, so you are to watch your tone when speaking to her," Mingi growled, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you behind him. You looked up at Mingi's taller figure with semi-wide eyes, your heart beating furiously under your ribs as heat crept up your neck.
"W-Wife?" Mingi's uncle was the next to speak as he moved closer to his song, grabbing his arm, knowing very well what Mingi was capable of.
"Yes. Meet Princess Y/n of the Fire Nation, my wife." Mingi introduced you as he allowed you to move back to his side once he deemed it safe to do so. At his introduction, hushed whispers fell over the crowd, and you could see the fear swimming in the old man's eyes, knowing that his title was slipping from his fingers. "Now, shall we move this conversation inside where my wife can be comfortable, or do I need to make a path?"
Your lips parted, breath catching on the inhale at his tone. The power that seeped from his words alone was enough to leave anyone trembling in their shoes. Yet you could only look at him in nothing but astonishment. Not only was he going to get what he wanted while he was here, but he was also making sure you were comfortable along the way. At least you thought that until you remembered that this was only a deal, you weren't actually his wife, and he was just here to gain his title back.
"Quickly, make space for Her Highness and the Duke." The woman with the child told the maids behind her, the child resting her head against the woman's shoulder with a sleepy gaze.
"Thank you, Clara." Mingi gave the woman a smile, and had you not known any better, you would've thought that it was kind. But you saw the hatred and anger simmering deep in his blue eyes.
Mingi wraps his arm loosely around your waist, guiding you towards the estate but also keeping you close to his body in a protective manner. You kept your head held tall like you had been taught since you were a child, not letting their judging gazes get to you.
The inside of the estate was bathed in a warm hue, and the scent of vanilla and bourbon filled your senses. Glancing over, you noticed Mingi's nose scrunched, and the sight has you smiling softly. You move your body just enough for his arm to slip from your waist, allowing you to hook your arm around his.
"Right this way, Your Grace." One of the maids pointed both of you towards the stairs, but Mingi didn't move an inch, his eyes trained on his uncle and cousin, who had just walked into the foyer.
"I think it's best we talk first, we have a lot to catch up on, don't you think?" Mingi asked, eyebrow cocking as he turned to fully face the two men. His stature would have any normal person cowering away, and you could tell it was taking a lot for the two men to keep their composure.
"You want the estate." His uncle stated, and Mingi's lips curve into a wolfish smirk.
"Yes,"
"I'm afraid that's not possible; this belongs to my father." Mingi's cousin spoke up once more with a glare; however, his father grabbed his arm.
"See my dearest cousin, that's where you're wrong." Mingi stepped towards the man, letting his arm slip from your grasp, and said, "This entire land belonged to me before you measly rats came and made yourselves at home."
"How dare yo—"
"I thought I warned you about your tone," Mingi growled, his claws extending and pressing right against the younger male's throat, breaking skin. "It seems your father failed to teach you proper manners. Now, I suggest we talk like men because it would be a shame for your wife and child to watch as you bleed out at their feet."
Your chest tightened at the threat, and you knew you should be scared that he would so easily take another man's life. But you weren't. No, if anything, the tone he used had a wave of heat washing over you, and you folded your hands in front of your body to keep the trembling at bay.
"Mingi, think of your father." His uncle's words seemed to flip a switch in the blue-haired male, and the room fell into a chilling temperature. Mingi's blue eyes glowed brightly as he glared at the older male, hand encasing his cousin's throat and pulling a choked gasp out of him.
"You have no right to speak of my father," Mingi growled, fingers tightening around the man's throat, and you were sure that if he added just a bit more pressure, he would snap his neck.
Then the sound of the child's cries caught your attention. Your head snaps over to the mother and child who were watching the scene before them in horror. Your heart ached for them, and as much as you wished you could spare the man for their sake, you knew Mingi wouldn't allow it, so you did the next best thing. Walking over to the woman you grabbed her arm gently and caught her attention, she looked at you with teary eyes, a mixture of emotions swimming in her eyes.
"Spare yourself and your daughter from this nightmare. Go, now." You urged her and the crying child towards the stairs, and with a quick glance at the maid who stood nearby, she understood. With a nod, she grabbed the woman's arm and ushered her up the stairs and away from the gruesome scene that was awaiting down below.
"Last chance, uncle," Mingi's voice echoes around the room, causing a shiver to run down your spine, and the older man looks at his nephew in shock. His eyes flickered from Mingi to his dying son, whose lips began to turn blue due to lack of oxygen.
"W-We'll return the estate. Just release him." His uncle begged, panic written all over his face, the moment he noticed his son's movements dying down.
"Not just the estate. Everything. And you lot are to leave without a coin." Mingi growled, his grip growing even tighter, and you feared that he would actually snap the man's neck, so you moved closer to him carefully.
"Yes! We'll return everything!" The old man trembled in his spot as his son's life hung by a thread, and a sinister smirk spread on Mingi's lips. He then released the man, letting him drop to the floor before bringing that same hand to his uncle's face, patting his cheek roughly.
"Good choice," Mingi chuckled as he took a step back, right into your awaiting arms, where his gaze flickered for a moment before the smirk dropped into a snarl, "now get out."
"Clara!" The older man began to shout, but Mingi shook his head, stopping the maid who went to fetch the woman with a pointed glare.
"The woman and child can stay. You two are to leave this instant." Mingi brought his heated gaze back to the two men. His uncle didn't spare another second before hauling his coughing son from the floor and lugging him towards the main doors, ignoring his choked protests.
The foyer then fell into a lingering silence; no one dared to move for fear of being under the dragon's wrath next. However, as your hands wrapped around Mingi's bicep, he could feel his anger and annoyance begin to simmer away.
"You must be tired, my love." Mingi's tone came out sweet, the sound leaving you weak in the knees, even more so when his soft gaze fell upon you, "Show my wife to our chambers, I'm sure you know which one that is."
He told the maids that still stood behind you, and they quickly nodded, showing you towards the stairs, but you cast one last glance at the blue-haired dragon. Mingi offered you a smile with a slight nod of his head, and you felt your shoulders relax before allowing the maids to show you to the master chambers, where they helped you get dressed for bed, and you fell onto the soft mattress, sleep quickly overtaking your body as the events of the day finally caught up to you.
—
You weren't sure what time it was when you woke the next day, but what you did know was that all hell had broken loose downstairs. Without even bothering to change, just grabbing a robe, you shrugged it over your shoulders and rushed down the stairs, where the yelling seemed to rise even louder.
"This isn't your home anymore. How dare you try to take it away!" The woman's voice rang loudly in your ears as you rounded the corner into the main living space.
"This has always been my home, Clara. I'm simply taking back what belongs to me." Mingi stated coolly, eyes darkening as the woman before him huffed in frustration, tears flooding down her cheeks.
"Min—"
"You!" Mingi's name barely fell from your lips as Clara turned towards you with adulterated rage, and you felt your heart seize as she stomped towards you.
"Clara." The tone in which her name fell from Mingi's lips had your body going rigid, as well as Clara's, as she looked at you with a tear-filled gaze. However, under her anger, you could see something deeper—heavier.
Guilt and worry.
"Why? Why must you take this away from my child?" She choked through a sob, and you felt your heart squeeze in your chest. You took a tentative step towards her despite Mingi's warning gaze, hands carefully taking her and pulling her attention to you.
"Clara, you and your child can still live happily. Go explore the world or live peacefully. You have that freedom now." You spoke in a gentle tone, a stark contrast to the tone that Mingi had been using for the better half of the morning, and you could see her resolve crumble.
"W-Where are we to go? My family would rather be caught dead than bring their widowed daughter home." She cried and your eyebrows furrowed, what did she mean 'widowed'? Her husband was still alive…
At least you thought so until you glanced over at Mingi, who had sat back on the sofa, his azure eyes trained on you, and you knew that you had missed something. Inhaling deeply, you turn your attention back to the weeping woman who began to slump in your hold.
"I have an estate in my name on the borders of the Fire Nation. You and your child are free to live there until you please. No one would dare to bother you, and if they do, just send them my way." You tell her and her eyes grow wide, completely baffled that you would offer such a thing, but you didn't give her a breath to protest, instead you waved a maid over. "Please help Miss Clara pack her and her daughters' belongings while I draw up the directions,"
"Why are you helping me?" She asked, her voice cracking as she let her hands fall to the crook of your elbows, gripping the skin as if she thought this would be some cruel nightmare the moment she let go.
"Because I know what it's like to be trapped within an unwanted marriage. However, I was lucky to be taken away before it was set in stone. Now I want to help someone else escape that same fate." You told her, and the truth in your words made more tears drip from her long lashes: "Go live the life you have always wished for, raise your daughter with love, and show her the true wonders of the world."
"Thank you, Princess." She bowed deeply, and you fumbled to pull her back up, telling her that it wasn't necessary.
"This way, miss." The maid you had motioned over to the teary-eyed woman, who thanked you one last time before allowing herself to be escorted out of the room.
You stood there for a moment, watching as she disappeared around the corner and up the stairs before turning your attention to another maid, telling them to bring you a quill and paper. Then you finally let yourself meet the dragon's gaze, and your breath hitched at the intensity. Swallowing thickly, you moved towards him, his eyes tracking your every move even after you sat down.
There was an unspoken tension in the air as you waited, hands folded in your lap, and you wished Mingi would say something. Yet he never did, not even when the maid stepped up to the table, holding out the material you had asked for.
"Go fetch Her Grace a blanket." Mingi's voice was low when he spoke, the sound sending a shiver coursing through your body. The cushion next to you shifted as he sat up, his large hand finding the small of your back, and the weight made you swallow thickly. "You sure have a kind heart, Princess."
"Kindness is a virtue that very few have in this cruel world; it's only right to lend it to those who need it." You told him without meeting his gaze, heat creeping up your neck and burning the tips of your ears when you felt his breath against your neck.
"Should I be honored that you've lent me your kindness?" He asked, his voice right next to your ear, and your body froze in the middle of a sentence. Mingi could hear your heartbeat speed up, the sound causing the dragon to smirk; however, before he could push further, the maid walked back into the room.
"Your Grace." She bowed her head before handing the blue-haired male the fur blanket, which he took and unfolded instantly.
"Thank you, you're free to go." He spoke blandly before turning his focus back onto you, only to find you staring at him with scrunched eyebrows.
"It wouldn't hurt for you to lend out that same kindness sometimes, Your Grace." You told him pointedly before turning back to finish up the directions.
"Kindness for me will only lead me to my grave," He told you honestly, wrapping the soft fur around your body and tugging you towards him until his lips were merely inches away from yours as you turned your head in surprise, "you hand out the kindness for the both of us."
"M-Mingi…" You breathed out, eyes flickering to his plush lips that were just out of reach, and he knew, but he couldn't let himself fall into the temptation. Not now, not yet.
"But be careful who you hand it to, not everyone will treat you the same." The blue-eyed man warned you before releasing his grasp and moving back. You watched him with wide eyes as he stood, fixing his navy vest that hugged his torso just right before looking back at you, "I've got stuff to attend to. If you need anything, call for one of the maids."
Then, with that, he was walking out of the room, and you were left staring at his retreating form in confusion. Where had that kind and gentle man from the cavern gone to?
However, you decided not to let yourself get carried away with the thought; you knew that he was only using you to gain control of his estate. He would only send you away once he's accomplished his goal. So you decided that you would use the time you have here to do some good, and you would start with finishing these directions.
As the day went on, you found yourself going back to the blue-haired dragon, wondering what he was doing and if he had eaten. Though every time you asked the maids, they reassured you that they had delivered him food.
You tried to hold on to the reassurance as you helped Clara and her daughter climb into the carriage, wishing them a safe journey and to write if they ever needed anything. A soft gasp fell from your lips when the mother wrapped her arms around you, hugging you tightly and murmuring one last thank you before the carriage door was shut. You waved at the little girl as she beamed at you from the carriage window, the sight making your heart swell in happiness.
But as you watched the carriage disappear over the slopes, you couldn't help the lingering anxiety that came barreling into you. The feeling wound your chest tightly, and you rushed back into the estate and towards the kitchen.
"Your Grace," The maids bowed as they acknowledged your presence, and you waved them off before asking about Mingi's dinner. "We were just getting ready to deliver it to His Grace in the study."
"Let me," You grabbed the skirt of your dress and stepped further into the room despite their protests. However, you didn't leave much room for discussion, and they reluctantly handed you the tray after prepping it.
You thanked them before making your way back out of the kitchen and towards the study that you knew the blue-haired male would be hiding away in. The maid at the end of the hall quickly walked over, knocking on the door for you. When you heard the man's gruff voice saying to come in, she opened the door before letting you walk in and shutting it right behind you to offer some privacy.
"You can leave it over there." Mingi waved to the side, not bothering to look up from his papers, and you looked over to see the untouched trays that sat on a table to the side. Huffing softly, you stepped towards him, and as soon as your scent invaded the dragon's senses, his head snapped up, azure eyes locked on you with an unreadable expression. "What are you doing?"
"Coming to make you, you've been eating, and good thing I did," You rolled your eyes before stepping closer to the desk despite the low growl that rumbled from the man's chest. Moving around the oak desk you didn't bother to even look at what he had been reading, instead you sat the tray down on an empty spot before looking at him expectantly, "stop being such a brute and eat something."
"I'll eat after I'm finished," He exhaled sharply before letting his gaze fall back to the papers before him, and that had a surge of annoyance rushing through you.
Biting your lip, you propped your hands on your hips and watched him, your burning gaze causing his scales to tingle, and before long, he couldn't take it any longer. Dropping the pages once more, he turned to look at you with a cocked eyebrow.
"Eat." You told him pointedly and motioned to the food that was sitting, ignored on his desk. He began to open his mouth, and you already knew it was some kind of excuse, "Mingi, eat or I will tie you to that chair and shove it down your throat."
Your words took the man by surprise, his eyes growing wide by just a fraction, and his pulse thumped at the base of his throat. He hadn't expected to hear those words fall from your lips, but as he stared into your narrowed eyes, he could see the worry swimming beneath the annoyance. Reluctantly, he pushed his chair back and turned towards you, a cocky smirk tugging on the corner of his lips.
"Why doesn't my beautiful wife feed it to me?" He teased, and his choice of words has your heart leaping into your throat, your cheeks warmed fast, color rising before you could stop it. Mingi could see it on your face, and it only spurred him on, "You said you'd tie me to the chair and shove it down my throat, so keep good on your promise, princess."
"You're insufferable," You grumbled, but reached for the spoon nonetheless, gathering some of the food before moving towards the large dragon. Mingi looked up at you with nothing but mischief, and your jaw clenched tightly, "Mingi." Your tone was nothing short of warning, your patience wearing thinner by the second, but Mingi was enjoying it, maybe a little too much. When he didn't open his mouth, you felt that thread snap, and you exhaled slowly. "Fine, you want me to force feed you, then I'll force feed you."
In the next second, you had your knee pressing into his thigh while your free hand grabbed one of his horns, tugging his head back and eliciting a deep groan, and finally, his mouth fell open. Taking the chance, you shove the spoonful of food into his mouth, eyes boring into his, and Mingi felt heat envelope his body.
"Chew." You demanded, letting your hand fall to your side while your other one gripped his horn tighter. Mingi's hand instinctively flew to the back of your thigh, fingers gripping the soft flesh through the fabric of your gown.
You watched as he chewed before swallowing, and his azure eyes darkened into a deep blue, his gaze making your stomach flip. Heat pooled in your gut, and you could feel that pull once more, brain begging for you to give in to the temptation. Mingi wasn't too far behind you, fingers itching to grab and grope at any part of your body he could possibly reach. But before he could, you were slipping away from him, stumbling back and averting your gaze elsewhere as your cheeks and ears burned a bright red.
"Make sure you eat." You breathed out almost breathlessly before setting the spoon down and scurrying out of the room, leaving Mingi there to watch in amusement.
However, as his gaze flickered back to the papers before him, he knew he didn't have time for the trivial things right now. He could worry about it all once he made sure he had a secure place for you to stay—happy and healthy.
—
The game of push and pull seemed to go on for weeks; one of you would push the other's buttons to the point of their patience snapping, only for them to pull away when things got heated. It was starting to drive you insane, your mind swimming with the possibility that Mingi actually wanted you. But you quickly pushed that thought out of your head when you watched him sort through all the years of finances and deeds.
"Your Grace, your bath is ready." One of the maids spoke, startling you from where you sat at your vanity, mindlessly combing through your locks. Setting down the gemmed comb, you turned your attention to the girl, thanking her before making your way into the washroom.
The dim lighting of the moon reflected off the rippling water, and you couldn't help but be reminded of the azure dragon that sat just downstairs. Hidden away in his study once more.
Letting out a soft sigh, you sat on the ledge of the tub, running your fingers through the warm water. Then you heard a thump—quiet, but there. The sound had you leaping to your feet, eyes trained on the door as you looked around for any possible escape if it were to be an intruder. Then you heard heavy boots on the floors, and you knew it wasn't any of the maids, and it sure as hell wasn't Mingi.
Swallowing thickly, you moved further back into the room, searching for something—anything to protect yourself. Except you couldn't find a thing before the door was slamming open, a man standing in the doorway and blocking the main chamber's light.
"There you are, Princess," His voice sent a chill down your spine, more so when a smirk spread across his lips, "the king has been waiting very patiently for your return."
"I-I'm not going back." You told him, voice shaking as tears brimmed in your eyes, and you were brought back to that fear you had believed to be gone. Your eyes darted all over the room, for a weapon, for an escape, for anything.
"I'm afraid that's not up for discussion." He growled, moving towards you in quick strides, and you did the one thing you thought could possibly get you out of this.
"Mingi!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, the lining of your throat rubbing raw at the sheer force.
"Stupid wrench!" The man hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair before slamming your head into the wall next to you.
The impact draws a sharp cry from your lips, your vision swimming, and black spots clouding the edges. No, you couldn't pass out. You had to fight. You had to get out. You couldn't go back to that king. Tears of fear and pain mixed as they flowed down your cheeks, nails clawing at the man's wrist as he dragged you towards the door.
Safe. You're safe. He's here.
That little voice in the back of your mind spoke over the deafening ringing in your ears, and you could feel the fear start to dissipate. A comfort fell over you, and as soon as you lifted your blurry gaze, you met the glowing blue eyes of your fated dragon.
"Release her." Mingi's voice was low, but the growl in his tone bounced off the walls of the luxurious washroom, and the man stopped dead in his tracks. His narrow eyes found the male, but his face quickly morphed into one of fear as he realized who it was that stood before him. The man all but threw your body towards the blue-haired male witless scrambling back and Mingi was quick to catch you in his arms.
"Y-Y-You—" The man choked on his words as he stepped further into the bathroom, and Mingi felt nothing but unfiltered rage when he smelled the blood that had begun to seep from the gash on your forehead.
"Who sent you?" The dragon demanded as he tugged your weakening body closer to his, fingers grasping your side.
"T-The Water Nation king!" He exclaimed, pleading for Mingi to spare his life, and the taller male's eyes only grew brighter as he stared down at the cowering man.
Mingi's jaw tightened at the mention of the king you had fled from mere months ago. Glancing back at one of the maids, he motioned for her to take your dazed form, telling her to call the doctor after getting the bleeding under control.
He watched for a moment as the pair of women worked together to help your stumbling form out of the bedroom, incoherent murmurs fell from your lips. Once the door closed, he turned his attention back to the man before him.
"Now, I could kill you…" Mingi spoke coolly as he stepped towards the man, who shook his head violently, "But that would only be a waste, so here's what we shall do." The large dragon stopped in front of the man and crouched down, his arms resting on his knees as he watched the man cower into the corner, "First, you put your hands on my wife, my mate." Mingi growled, and in the blink of an eye, his large hand grasped the back of the man's head, slamming it into the wall much like he had done to you.
"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Weak pathetic pleas fell from the man's lips as he tried to focus his swimming vision.
"Second," Mingi's hand moved his hand from the man's head to his collar, tugging his body closer until his face was mere inches away from Mingi's. "You tell your king that if he dares to lay another finger on her, he'll have the wrath of the dragon descendant duke brought down upon this kingdom."
"Ye— Yes, Your Grace!" The perp nodded his head, trembling hands rubbing together in another pathetic attempt at a plea.
Mingi clicked his tongue before rising to his feet, pulling the man's body up as well and ignoring his pleas and jumbled words as he escorted him towards the front door, roughly. Once the front doors were open, Mingi all but threw the man outside, watching as his body slid against the jagged gravel.
"You fail your task, and I will hunt you down and skin you alive," Mingi growls, eyes widening just a hair as the blue burned brighter and the man scrambled to his feet, bowing deeply, "get out of my sights."
Then the man was tucking tail and running. Before long, his form was merely a speck in the night, and Mingi stepped back inside. The anger that radiated off the dragon had all of the staff cowering away; his gaze was enough to pierce through anyone's soul.
"Where is she?" He asked no one in particular, and one maid swallowed her nerves and motioned towards the stairs.
"This way, Your Grace." Her voice was meek, heart jumping when the Duke's fiery gaze fell upon her. But he didn't say a word as he allowed her to lead him back up the stairs and towards another chamber door.
Once the door was open, he was waving her away and stepping inside, where he found your motionless body lying beneath the covers. His heart skipped in his chest, and for the first time in many, many years, the dragon felt fear course through his veins. The lingering scent of your blood surrounded the man, and he swallowed thickly as he moved towards the bed where the doctor had just finished up.
"How is she?" Mingi's voice came out softer, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form, and the doctor bowed before rising.
"The blow was pretty hard, and the gash needed stitches," As the doctor explained. Mingi could feel his rage begin to surface once more, his upper lip pulling back into a snarl, the sharp point of his fangs gleaming in the dim lighting.
"I should've just killed that bastard." He growled lowly, fingers tightening around the wood of the bed frame, the wood creaking under his palms.
"She will probably be out for a while, but she should wake up within the next few days." The doctor continued his explanation, paying no mind to the large dragon, and moved towards the bedroom door after Mingi dismissed him.
Once the door closed, Mingi finally released his grip from the creaking wood and moved towards your pale body. He grabbed the armchair that stood nearby and sat down, taking your smaller hand into his. The room fell into a still silence, neither comfortable nor unbearable; just… still.
"I'm sorry, my love," The dragon whispers, bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. His lips lingered there for a few long moments as he studied your face, and had it not been for the bloodied bandage that was wrapped around your head, he would've thought you were just sleeping. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."
And he spent the rest of that night as well as the many following nights at your bedside. He barely let the maids near you, a threatening growl emitting from his throat when one got a little too close for his liking.
Then, it was early morning on the sixth day, and the sound of birds chirping outside the window was the first sound you heard. Your head pounded as you slowly opened your eyes, only to close them again due to the harsh sun rays. You tried to bring your hand up to shield your eyes from the light, but were stopped by a weight in your palm. Sitting up carefully, you blinked slowly, allowing your eyes to get used to the new brightness before you glanced over.
Your breath caught in your throat when you found none other than Mingi slumped over at your bedside. The evident eye bags under his eyes and the dull shimmer of his once bright scales told you that he hadn't slept in days. A soft smile curves on your lips as you bring your free hand over, brushing his hair from his face, careful not to touch his horns, knowing it'd wake him up.
The sound of the door opening had your shoulders going stiff, head snapping in the direction, only to find one of the maids walking into the room. A gasp fell from her lips when she saw that you were awake, but you quickly hushed her, pressing your index finger to your lips. She quickly covered her lips, eyes flickering from you to the sleeping beast beside you.
"How long have I been asleep?" You asked quietly, and she stepped closer to the bed, a weary gaze shifting from Mingi back to you.
"Today would've been the sixth day, Your Grace." She told you, bowing her head softly, and you nodded before letting your gaze fall back to the blue-haired male. "He hasn't left your side a single day; he refused to eat despite our worries and reminders that you would want him to eat."
You looked at her for a moment before softly pinching the male's cheek, "brat."
"Would you like me to bring you some food, Your Grace?" She asked, and you nodded, giving her a gentle smile before watching as she quietly slipped out of the room.
Then the room was shrouded in silence once more, the only sounds coming from the birds outside and the soft snores that slipped past Mingi's lips. You watched him sleep, eyes studying his face, and for the first time, you were able to really take in his beauty. Your fingers carefully trace every curve, blemish, mole, and scar that you could reach before he was stirring under your touch.
You pulled your hand away from his face when his eyes fluttered open, azure hues focusing on you the moment he woke. Your smile only spread wider as he sat up, eyes wide as if he weren't sure if this were a dream or not.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty." You teased, and Mingi felt as if a ton of bricks had been lifted from his shoulders.
"You're awake." His voice was heavy with sleep, and it sent a flurry of butterflies through your stomach, a soft heat settled across your face, giving you away. Then he was moving towards you, large hands cupping your jaw carefully, and before you could register it, his lips were on yours.
It only took seconds before you were melting into his touch, eyes fluttering closed and fingers gripping the untucked hem of his tunic. Your head tilted just enough to deepen the kiss, easily finding yourself getting lost in his taste.
The way his lips melded with your left your craving for more, fingers pawing at his shirt. Your brain quickly started to fuzz, a warmth seeping throughout your body and begging for more. Mingi sense it—smell it and a deep groan reverberated through his chest and right into your mouth causing you to whine softly.
"We can't. Not now, you need to heal." He murmurs against your lips, and you wanted to cry out in desperation, but he silenced you with another soft kiss against the corner of your lips. "Once we are legally able to marry, you can have me. All of me."
His words made your stomach twist, the feelings between you finally becoming clear, but there still stood one last obstacle. "What about the king?"
"You are not to worry about him no more," He told you firmly, his gaze hardening, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood tall. Then they were softening once more, "just a little bit longer, princess, then you'll be free. I promise."
Despite the anxiety that ate at every nerve in your body, you nodded, hands finding Mingi's larger one. You knew that he would keep his word, that you would soon be free of your binds. Free to be his. Fully and wholeheartedly.
And just like he promised, a week's time had passed, and there came a sharp knock at the chamber doors where you were resting. Mingi lay by your side with a book in his hand and glasses perched upon the perfect bridge of his nose.
"Come in,"
The maid on the other side opened the door before standing in the doorway to bow, "Your Grace, there is a messenger at the door looking for you and Her Grace."
You felt your heart leap, a smile spreading on your lips as you thought of what it could possibly be, and the hope that it was one thing in particular bloomed. Mingi glanced over at you as he shut his book, pulling the glasses off his face before setting both to the side. Leaning over, he placed a gentle kiss upon your forehead, lips lingering for just a moment before he pulled away.
"Stay here, love, I'll go chat with our guest." He told you before he was clambering off the bed and following the maid out of the room.
You waited with bated breath, heart thumping heavily against your ribs, and you felt as if you could feel the second tick by. Then, finally, you could hear the heavy steps of Mingi's feet, and you sat up on the mattress, the blanket falling to your lap just as the door opened. Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you watched the blue-haired male walk into the room.
Mingi allowed the door to shut before he stepped closer to you, his hand hidden behind his back. The anticipation was starting to gnaw at you, and you started to climb off the bed, but Mingi stepped in front of you, stopping your movements.
"It's arrived." He told you, pulling his hand from his back with a flourish and revealing the scroll in his hand. Your eyes widened as he placed it in your hands, the weight heavy in your palms as your thumb brushed over the expensive paper, knowing that it was from a royal.
Swallowing thickly, you slowly unraveled the scroll, eyes scanning every inch of the page, and tears brimmed in your eyes. You looked up at the dragon that stood before you with misty eyes. Mingi reached forward, cupping your face in his larger hands and crouching down to press his forehead against yours.
"You are now officially my wife." His tone was filled with nothing but love, and your heart leaped into your throat.
Tears began to drip from your damp lashes as you brought a shaky hand to wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer, "and you, my husband."
Weeks upon weeks of preparations had begun, Mingi wanting everything to be perfect for you because in his eyes, you deserved nothing less. You found a gown as well as a bouquet of flowers that suited the overall theme, while Mingi made sure everything was in order for the ceremony.
People came and went in the estate, many new faces greeted you, much to Mingi's distaste, but he knew it was only for the preparation. All of the old dainty decorations and furniture had been whisked away, replaced by newer, classier furniture. The decorations a mixture of blues, turquoise and gold, all of which screamed of your soon-to-be husbands knack for picking the sparkly things—his dragon side peaking out just a bit. But you never teased—at least not too much—instead you found it endearing, something that cracked his cold shell.
"Duchess? The tailor has arrived with the veils; you are to pick one today." Your personal maid, Jaeyoung, spoke as she followed behind you through the estate.
You stopped for just a moment as you inspected the new mirror that had been hung in the hall at the top of the staircase. A soft hum vibrated from your chest as your fingers brushed the petals of the flowers that sat in the azure vase, the color reminding you of Mingi's scales.
"Hm, we shall not keep her waiting any longer." You finally turned to give the young girl a sweet smile, and the glimmer in your eyes caused a smile of her own to spread on Jaeyoung's face.
Following Jaeyoung down the stairs, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand tall, the feeling of eyes on your body. However, instead of feeling uneasy, you felt happiness swell in your chest, eyes flickering over to meet the deep azure eyes of the man you were to call your husband in just a few short hours.
Though you could only spare him a passing glance before both of you were whisked away for your own tasks. You were to choose the perfect veil to match your wedding gown while Mingi finished setting up the guest list for the grand banquet that was to be held tomorrow after your wedding night. At first, you hadn't been sure what Mingi had meant when he explained it, but then his vulgar words echoed in your ears, and you became flustered all over again.
'It's a celebration for the bride after we've consummated our marriage and you've been properly bred.'
"We're here, Your Grace." Jaeyoung's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked at her with wide doe eyes, as if you were a child who had just been caught sticking their hand in the cookie jar. However, if she noticed, she didn't say a word; instead, she held the door to the indoor garden open, where you found your taller waiting inside.
Yes, just a few more preparations before the ceremony tonight, and the thought left your heart racing with excitement and glee.
—
The ceremony was held in the back of the estate, in the center of the hedge canopy. It was absolutely magnificent and utterly stunning. Something that you had only seen in the pages of your fairy tale books. Your beautiful gown flowed behind you, the soft gusts of wind helping to keep the skirt splayed out as the petals from the flower girls' baskets fluttered down onto it. A mixture of different emotions passed through you, happiness, nervousness, disbelief, you name it, and you were probably feeling it for a small increment of time before it moved on to the next.
Bird chirps in song above you, and you couldn't help but look up to watch them hop along the tree branches. Your veil was obscuring your vision just enough that you had to look down to clearly see the ground beneath you.
Then you came to the entrance of the canopy, music fading, and you felt your pulse thumping against the base of your throat, all sounds dying on your tongue the moment you saw him.
There Mingi was, standing upon the stage before all the townsfolk and other guests, his blue hair styled in a way that showed his forehead while it still framed his face marvelously. His white suit was a near match to your gown, the silver embroidery done with such precision that it looked as if it had been handcrafted by the gods above. And when the wind blew, the tail of his coat flowed behind him, taking your breath along with it. He had become the embodiment of the prince charming you've read about in fairytales.
But by the gods, he looked at you as if you had just hung the stars in the very sky above you, azure eyes glowing softly the closer you approached. Nothing but love and adoration brimmed in his gaze, and had you asked him in this moment, he would say that he thought you were an angel that had been left to walk this earth.
As you neared the stage, you felt your breath catch in your throat, the intensity of his gaze knocking the air from you. One of the noblewomen who had been perched on your side of the stage helped you up the steps, careful of the white lace on your skirt, fixing it so it stayed beautifully spread behind you. Then you were meeting Mingi's gaze once more as he took your shaky hands into his, and for the first time in the nearly eight months you've spent with the dragon, you saw his eyes glassy with tears.
Even during the officiant's speech, neither of you could seem to tear your attention away from the other, smiles matching. Your fingers tightened around Mingi's larger hand as you tried your best to keep your own tears at bay, and thankfully, no one paid any mind to the two of you being lost in your own worlds.
Then, when the time came to exchange vows, Mingi was pulling the veil from your face, having had enough of the obstruction. The action pulled a soft giggle from you before you were tilting your head to meet his gaze once more, this time without the veil, and your heart skipped a beat. Seeing him with the barrier didn't hold a candle to seeing him without it, and by the looks of it, the blue-haired male was thinking the same thing.
"You are absolutely breathtaking, princess." His voice was barely above a whisper, scared that he would break entirely if he spoke any louder. You bit your tongue as you realized then and there that the name was never merely just your title to him; you were and would always remain his princess, regardless of whether that was your official title or not. He then began to recite his vows, his tears finally breaking free with the emotions he was laying before you. Releasing one of his hands, you lifted your gloved hand, cupping his jaw and brushing some of the azure tears that pooled under his eye.
By the time he had finished, you both were crying, tears of pure, unfiltered happiness flowing down your reddening cheeks. Next was your turn, and you spoke freely, never being able to write your words out, but rather speaking from your heart. Each word falling from your lips like an unspoken promise, and love laced every word.
Everyone could feel the love and adoration that was seeping from the two of you, tears of their own pooling in their eyes as they watched Mingi slip the ring onto your left hand. The dazzling diamond had an almost blue hue to it as the setting sun reflected off the gem. It was the most beautiful thing you've seen, save for the man who was standing before you. Once you had slipped his ring onto his own finger, his hand was cradling the back of your head as he brought his lips down to yours.
The kiss was oh-so-similar to the one you've shared countless times, except this time, the emotions you both couldn't put into words were conveyed as your lips melded together. Your gloved fingers grasped at the lapels of his coat, pulling him as close as you could, completely forgetting the audience that sat before you.
Only when your lungs were begging for oxygen did you part, chests heaving with heavy breaths and a smile adorning your faces despite the lingering embarrassment. The crowd around you broke out into cheers as the ceremony concluded, and they wished you the best, while others prayed for your future heirs. Their words made your body warm as you remembered what awaited you once you and Mingi were back behind the closed doors of the estate, while everyone else partied the night away.
Even the maids and other staff were dismissed for the night, ordered to take care of everyone who remained outside.
"Now…" Mingi murmurs into your ear before he sweeps you off your feet, causing you to gasp, arms instinctively wrapping around his broad shoulders. "Shall we consummate our marriage, my sweet little wife?"
Your ears turned red first, trailing up until your whole expression shifted, flustered by the blue-haired male's words. You buried your face in his neck, the soft rumble of his laughter vibrating through your body and making your stomach flutter.
The trek back to the estate passed in a blur, and before you knew it, Mingi was setting you on your feet before the door to the washroom. You glanced over at him with furrowed brows, and he just offered you a smile before opening the door with a flourish. A soft sound fell from your lips when you saw the candles that were placed methodically around the room, petals as blue as sapphires and as white as snow laid on the ground. Then the sweet scent of roses mixed with vanilla wafted around you, nearly taking your breath away.
Mingi slips past you, stepping further into the room until he stands just beside the tub that is filled, the same flower petals floating on top. You began to wonder whether this was what he had been planning so meticulously, and he wouldn't utter a word to you.
"Come here." His voice was low, quiet, almost. Not a command, but not a request, something in between. Something that has heat pooling in your core.
You take a step into the room, then another, the petals on the ground catching on the ends of your dress. Mingi holds his hand out to you, pulling your body closer to his once your smaller hand is placed in his.
His lips leave a searing kiss against your skin as he tugs your gloves off your hands, each kiss warming your body further. Once the gloves were off, he let his hands fall to your waist, leaning down until his lips were ghosting over yours. You bit back a small whine when he kissed your cheek, his fingers undoing your corset with ease.
"Mingi…" You breathed out as he undressed you, his lips trailing over all the newly exposed skin until you were standing bare before him.
"So beautiful," He breathed out, tracing his fingertips over every curve he could reach before sealing his lips over yours. The kiss was nothing like the sweet one you shared merely half an hour ago; no, this one felt as if you were trying to consume each other, and maybe you were, but neither of you cared.
Your fingers gripped his coat lapels, pushing them off his shoulders, and he pulled the sleeves off until the fabric joined yours on the ground. Then, without so much as breaking the kiss, you undo the buttons of his tunic. Before long, his clothes had joined yours, and you felt a lump form in your throat as you broke apart, eyes falling to his cock that stood proudly against his lower abdomen. You knew he wasn't going to be normal; he wasn't even human, but the sheer size made your stomach churn in both need and fear.
Mingi's fingers hooked under your chin, pulling your attention back to him, pressing his lips gently against the corner of your lips. "Don't stare, my love, it's already hard enough to restrain myself as it is."
Then he was stepping into the tub, hands on your waist, tightening before he was pulling you in with him. Goosebumps littered your skin as the warm water enveloped your body, relaxing the muscles that had been straining all day with the stress of the ceremony.
Mingi's arms wrapped around your smaller frame, pulling you back into his chest, your head falling back onto his shoulder. The washroom was quiet, save for the rippling sounds of the water and the distant sounds of the townsfolk celebrating. All while the two of you sat in the tub, soaking in each other's warmth, and Mingi's hands roamed your body, his fingers pressing into the plush skin every so often, working out the knots that had formed. He bit back a soft growl as he listened to the sounds of your sighs and quiet moans that would slip past your lips unintentionally.
"You did so good today, princess," His smooth voice sent a wave of heat throughout your body, your thighs subconsciously rubbing together. Noticing the shift of your movements, he moved his hands from your biceps down your waist before squeezing your hips, eliciting another soft moan.
"Mingi." You sighed, head lolling to the side when his lips latched onto the soft skin of your neck, placing a flurry of open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of your skin. The soft scrape of his fangs had a shiver running down your spine, head already spinning. His hands moved from your hips to your thighs, squeezing the plush fat before pulling them apart.
"Just relax, sweetheart," He cooed into your neck, and you moved your hand to cup the back of his neck as his fingers moved to your bare core.
A soft moan slipped past your lips when he found your aching clit with ease, moving in slow circles. His movements weren't rushed or harsh; they were gentle, making sure you felt everything. Your fingers tightened around his neck when he moved away from your bundle of nerves to slip a finger into your tight walls.
"God, Mingi." You whined, back arching as he stretched you open, the foreign sensation had your toes curling, more so when the rough pads of his fingers found the spongy spot deep in your walls.
Chuckling softly, Mingi used his other hand to push your hips back down and kept you in place as you let out another whine. When he slipped in another finger, your eyes rolled back at the stretch, your other hand gripping his thigh to ground yourself, but when his thumb found your clit it was all pointless.
"Cum for me, pretty girl, let me feel you around my fingers." His fingers coaxed you closer to your high, heat flushing your body, making you lightheaded, and with just a few more strokes of his skilled fingers, you were toppling over the edge.
"M-Mingi." You moaned out, nails digging into Mingi's skin as stars danced across your vision.
Mingi continued to work you through your high, relishing in the sweet sounds that left your parted lips. He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek as he pulled his fingers from your still twitching cunt.
"Mingi…" You whined, opening your eyes to look up at him, need still pooling in your blown-out pupils.
"Don't worry, love, I'm not done with you yet." Mingi's lips twitched into a smirk as he cupped your jaw, bringing his face closer to yours. Another whine fell from your lips but was quickly muffled by his as he kissed you deeply, the sharp points of his fangs nipping at your bottom lip, threatening to draw blood.
Then his hands were on your hips once more, flipping your body around so you were facing him. The speed makes your head spin, and your hand flies to his shoulders to stabilize yourself. Every nerve ending in your body felt as if it were set aflame, a choked moan falling from your parted lips when you felt his heavy cock against your bare cunt.
"Bloody hell, princess," Mingi groans, fingers tightening like a vice on your body when you started rolling your hips against him. You let out another moan when the rough ridges on his cock caught your aching clit.
In the blink of an eye, Mingi was pulling your body from the now lukewarm water, a gasp tearing from your lungs at the sudden movement. Your legs wrapped around his slender waist, arms tightening around his neck.
Walking back into the main room, he dropped you onto the bed, a small huff leaving your lips as your damp body fell onto the sheets. Mingi was back on you in a matter of seconds, body slotted over yours as he brought his lips back down to yours in a heated kiss. Your brain started to go fuzzy as his lips trailed from yours down your jaw before finding purchase on the sensitive skin of your neck.
"M-Mingi." You choked out as he started to leave hot, wet, open-mouth kisses along your jugular, nipping every now and then, causing your body to shiver. His eager hands moved to the soft skin of your breasts, squeezing the mounds and pulling a pitched whine from your kiss-swollen lips.
"You smell so sweet," He growls against your marked skin before his lips pressed a firm kiss over your perk nipple, then wrapping his lips around it, sucking gently, eliciting a soft moan of his name from your lips.
Once the skin on your breast was slick with his saliva and covered in his marks, he moved down the valley of your breasts. His lips traveled down your tummy, pressing a gentle kiss to each scar, blemish, and mark that he passed, and you watched him with teary eyes. Your heart swelled as he whispered praises against your skin, telling you how much he loved you.
You gasped when he parted your legs, resting them over his shoulders so he could see your glistening cunt. He starts to press gentle kisses along the inside of your thighs, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second. Your eyes stayed locked on him as he neared your warm center, then he pressed a kiss against your clit, causing your whole body to tremble.
"You’re dripping, princess,” He teased as he spread your folds, taking in the way your hole clenched around nothing. A gasp fell from your lips when he buried his face in your cunt, nose bumping your clit as he inhaled your scent, a low growl vibrating from the back of his throat. His hands wrap around your thighs to keep them in place as you start to squirm. A sharp whine falls from your lips, head falling back when he licked up your slit.
Then his lips were wrapping around your aching clit, sucking harshly, causing you to moan loudly, hand flying down, fingers grasping one of his dark blue horns. A deep groan reverberates from the back of his throat when you tug, and another moan escapes your lips, back arching off the bed and pushing your hips further into his face. Mingi was quick to move one hand from your thigh to press it flat down on your stomach, keeping you in place.
"Min— ooh god!" You cried out when he easily slips two fingers into your wet walls, curling them right against your sweet spot. The sounds of your whimpers and whines only cause the man to grin against you.
"You tasted so much sweeter than I thought, princess," He groans, lapping at your cunt and slowly thrusting his fingers into you. Your fingers tugged on his dark horn, the rough ridges digging into your skin as he buried his face in your cunt, groaning against you, eliciting a series of pants and moans.
Your heartbeat was ringing in your ears as your mouth gaped open, head falling back. Stars danced across your vision, your whole body shaking underneath Mingi’s hold. The pace of his fingers was relentless as he easily found the spongy spot inside your pussy, making you cry out his name. Your whole body tingled as all of your senses became overwhelmed, thighs trembling, threatening to close. Noticing this, Mingi took his hand from your stomach to grip one of your thighs tightly.
You weren’t able to give him a warning as you came around his fingers. He continued to suck on your clit in time with his fingers. Feeling you squeeze around his fingers as you cried out his name left Mingi groaning against you.
"M-Min—" You choked out a gasp, head falling back as he worked you through your orgasm and kissed his way back up your body. He swallowed all of your cute little whines as he kissed you deeply, tongue brushing against the back of your teeth. Your brain nearly short-circuited at the taste of yourself on his tongue, your hands falling to his shoulders.
"Still so tight, love," He chuckled darkly as your eyes rolled slightly when he curled his fingers against your sweet spot. There was no way he was going to be able to hold much longer before he lost it; each moan and whimper you let out wore at his restraint. So he sped up his fingers, his thumb pressing harsh circles against your twitching clit.
"Please!" You cried out, back arching off the bed and against his firm chest. Your mind was starting to short-circuit when he added a third finger, stretching you further. A broken whine fell from your lips, but was quickly swallowed by Mingi's eager lips, stealing all the air from your lungs.
Your hand wrapped around his neck, nails biting the skin when he added a fourth finger, the stretch borderline painful, but as he brushed over your sweet spot, stars danced across your vision. You held him close as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you, and he bit at your bottom lip, enough to draw blood this time. Then he was pulling it into his mouth, sucking on it; the mixture of pain and pleasure pushing you right over the edge with a strangled cry of his name.
"Mingi!" You cried out as he continued to work his fingers into your fluttering walls, prolonging your orgasm for a few moments. He lapped at the tears that had spilled from your eyes, whispering dirty praises against your skin before he was finally pulling his soaking digits from your twitching cunt.
You watched with hooded eyes as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, licking your essence off of his digits. The sight was enough to make your need grow all over again, especially with the way his eyes bore into you. Once he was sure he had licked every last drop of your sweet nectar off of his fingers, he leaned back down over you, pressing his lips against yours again. You mewled at the taste of yourself on his tongue mixed with the tangy, metallic taste of your blood from your lip.
"Mingi…" You whined, body growing even warmer as you felt his heavy cock sitting on your lower tummy, the warmth sending goosebumps littering your skin. Your fingers tugged at the hairs on the nape of his neck, lips parting with a gasp when he nipped at your jaw, "Need you… need you so bad, Mingi, please."
The sound of your pleas has the dragon growling against your skin, the last bit of his restraint wearing thin, "I need you too, sweetheart, but I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't." You shook your head violently, tears splashing onto the sheets beside your head. "I trust you, Min, please."
And just like that, his restraint snapped, his hands moving to spread your thighs further and lining his ribbed cock with your leaking entrance. The feeling made your body jolt, a moan falling from your lips, and Mingi's grip on your hip tightened. Your whole body seemed like it had been set aflame.
"If it's too much, just tell me, princess." He whispered against your skin, then he was pushing into your tight heat. The stretch was like nothing you’ve ever felt before, and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as he continued to fill you. “Ah, focus on me, love,” Mingi whispered softly, coaxing your eyes open, and you looked at him as tears started to spill from the corner of your eyes. “Good girl.”
"H-Hurts." You whine, back arching against him as more tears spill from your eyes, only to be caught by Mingi's lips, teeth nipping at your cheek, causing you to shiver.
"I know, sweetheart, just a little more, I promise." He cooed against your skin, gritting his teeth as your walls squeezed around him. Then, when he bottomed out, you gasped, eyes rolling back at the full feeling, and you swore his tip was pressing past your cervix.
"Feels good." You breathed out, tilting your head to look at him, and you felt like you were starting to go delirious. The lack of movement was starting to make your thighs shake, your need started to grow tenfold, and Mingi could tell by the way your hips started to roll against his.
A choked moan tore from your lips when he rolled his hips into yours, pleasure washing over you in waves as he hit all the right spots in one single stroke. He grabs your hips when you give him the green light to move, and stars dance across your vision as he pulls out before snapping his hips right back into yours. Your fingers dug into the sheets from the overwhelming pleasure.
"Look at you, princess.” He groaned as he continued his rough pace; it was almost animalistic, if you will. His eyes then fell down to where his cock disappeared into your sopping cunt, and he felt himself grow harder at the sight of the small bulge that formed in your lower tummy every time he pushed into you.
You cried out as he pushed down on your stomach, making you feel him even more as he fucked into you. Your body felt like it was on fire, your mind clouded with so much pleasure that you no longer had any proper words or thoughts forming. Drool spilled past the corner of your lips, trickling down your cheek, and incoherent babbles fell from your lips. The pleasure was so overbearing that your legs began to tremble around Mingi's waist, hips fighting against his hold to rut up into his thrusts. You could feel that coil in the pit of your stomach growing tighter and tighter at an alarming rate with every drag of his cock in your walls.
Leaning down, Mingi's tongue lolled out of his mouth as he lapped at the spit that spilled from your kiss-swollen lips, your hand finding the back of his neck, nails biting at the skin. A loud pornographic moan tore from your lips when one of his hands slid between your bodies, pressing against your clit.
“Cum for me, love, please.” He pleaded like he was the one more desperate for your orgasm, but with a few more strokes, you felt that coil in the pit of your stomach snap, and your release gushed out all over his length.
A mixture of his name and broken moans fell from your lips as he continued his fast pace, never slowing down and throwing your body into overstimulation. Your eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling, pushing more tears out, but Mingi was quick to kiss them away.
“God.” He groaned as he felt his high nearing, and his hips snapped wildly into yours, making your vision turn white, nails digging into his neck. A mixture of a groan and a whimper fell from his lips as he completely buried himself to the hilt once more as he came, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
The room was filled with heavy breathing as you came down from your high, but the soft sound of Mingi's low, feral growls against your neck made your body tingle. You brought your hand from his neck to the top of his head, fingers brushing over his horns.
All of the air was knocked out of your lungs when he lifted his head from your neck, his blown out pupils and the intensity of his gaze making you shiver. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was pulling his still hard cock from your weeping walls and flipping your body with ease. His hands were quick to find your hips, pulling them up until your back was arched the way he wanted.
"We're not done yet, princess. I've still gotta make sure you've been bred properly," He chuckled darkly as he pressed his tip against your twitching hole, watching as you eagerly sucked him in. You buried your face into the sheets as he pushed into you with one sharp thrust, his tip pushing right against your cervix.
Tears stained the sheets underneath you as he relentlessly bullied his cock into your abused pussy, his hands tight on your hips. Muffled cries and moans were the only sounds that emitted from your body. Your cognitive function to form words flew right out the window.
“Such a good little princess, hmm,” He cooed, leaning down until his back was pressed against your chest, his lips finding the back of your shoulder. “Taking everything, I give you like a good girl.” The mixture of his deep voice and his soft lips on your skin made your body melt, and if it wasn’t for his hold, you would have surely fallen flat on the mattress.
"Min— Mingi!" You cried out, fat tears falling from your eyes as he continued his relentless pace until your whole body was shaking. “Cumming! ‘M cumming!” Your voice cracked as he fucked you through another orgasm, but once again, his ministrations never stopped, much less slowed down.
White spots started to cloud your mind when he stood up straight once again, using your hips as leverage to fuck into you. Choked sobs left your lips when your body fell into a state of overstimulation. Every nerve felt as if it were on fire.
Then his hand was moving from your hip, pressing against your sternum, and pulling your upper body off the bed. A choked sob tore through your parted lips as he pistoned his hips into yours mercilessly. Your brain felt like it was turning into mush from the overwhelming amount of pleasure.
“You’re gonna look so pretty all swollen with my babies.” Mingi licked a stripe up the back of your neck, “Such a perfect mommy.” He cooed as he nipped at your skin, feeling another orgasm of his own creeping up.
“M-Mingi…” You whimpered in his hold, your head empty except for the thought of his cock buried deep in you until he was sure his seed would take.
“Gonna make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.” He growled before unexpectedly biting down on the nape of your neck as he came. The sudden infliction of pain pulled yet another orgasm from your spent body, your walls fluttering around his twitching cock, milking him for all he was worth.
Pulling away from your neck, he watched with proud eyes as his mark started to bleed, your sweet crimson blood coating his lips. You cried out when you felt something stretching you even more, and it sent your body over the edge once more, this time a weaker orgasm rushing through your bones. Mingi pressed his face into the side of your head, whispering sweet nothings in your ear while you both came down from your high.
"Mingi?" Your voice was hoarse as you spoke, head falling back onto his shoulder, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek as he hummed, "What is that?"
“It’s a knot, sweetheart. It’ll go down in a bit, but for now, try not to move too much.” He explained to you, and you let out a sigh, moving a shaky hand to the bottom of your tummy where you could still feel him pressing against your cervix.
"It's so warm," You babble mindlessly, causing Mingi to chuckle, anchoring your body to his as he kisses your shoulder.
"That just means it's taking," He murmurs against your skin, and you lift your head, brows furrowed, and he explains how different mating with a dragon descendant would be. Then once the knot wore down, he was slipping from your aching walls, laying your body on the bed before crawling over you, lips sealing yours in a sweet kiss that quickly turned heated. "And if we're lucky, you'll be with child by the end of the week."
You smiled up at him, the mere thought of carrying his child making a warmth bloom in your chest, and you pulled him down for another kiss. The two of you get lost in the heat of each other once more, marking the start of a very long night.
—
Neither you nor Mingi left your chambers until the next night, dressed lavishly as you walked into the main dining hall of the estate. Everyone greeted you warmly as you walked further into the room, arm hooked around Mingi's. To others, here it would seem like you were simply clinging to your husband as a newlywed wife might, but while that might also be the case, you were using his strong body as support. Your body is still not fully recovered from the strenuous activities that kept you and Mingi up most of the night.
"Welcome, Duke and Duchess Song." Someone announced as you and Mingi took your seats at the head of the table, Mingi's larger hand resting comfortably on your thigh.
"We wish you and the Duke nothing but luck and prosperity." A noblewoman and her young daughter walked up to you, bowing deeply before offering you a gift that your maid took to join the multitude of others.
This went on for the better half of the night, and before long, you felt a churning in your gut. Swallowing thickly, you move your hand to your stomach, and Mingi was quick to notice. Without breaking the conversation he was holding with another nobleman, he moved his hand from your thigh to cover your smaller hand that lay on your stomach.
You knew that pregnancy with a dragon descendant would be different, and Mingi warned you that if done correctly, you would be with child before the end of the week. Though as you felt something bubble in your gut, you were sure that you wouldn't need the rest of the week, and that alone brought a soft smile to your lips.
Lying your other hand over Mingi's, the cool metal of his ring chilling your skin in a comforting way, and you began to wonder how this came to be your life. Yet as you sat here, overlooking all of your people with your husband by your side, you knew that if given the chance, you'd relive this lifetime and time again.
Synopsis. Name: Choso Kamo.
Age: 23
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris AKA puppyboy.
Diagnosis: He’s in rut, and who does he need? His pretty owner—you!
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, dog hybrid!Choso, hybrids AU, puppyboy!Choso, RÚTS, pheromones, sheIters, companionship programs, hybrid parks, COLLARS, Ieashes, he Iikes it (a Iot), tail wagging, possessive Choso, use of ‘mistress’, use of ‘ma’am’, PÚSSYDRÚNK Choso, first tímes (Choso), oraI (f + brief m), spítting, teaching, manhandIing, he’s just so DESPERATE to pIease you, p worship, pánty-steaIing, stepping on him, finishing early (him), stamina, fíngering, begging, asking for permission, overstímuIation, p sniffing, he’s GONE, Choso with tattoos, ríding him stupid, he’s BlG, making it fit, feeIing for it, cervíx smoochin, BIG stretches, BRÉEDING, mentions of kids, miIking him, creampíes, cúmpIay, slight cúmfIation, mátes, bonding bites, KNOTS, implied marathons, getting together, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 14.4k
A/N. Mwahahah you babygirls asked so daddy provides…
The forums online told you there was nothing to worry about.
Each with their smooth, structured message boards and those advertisements for the country’s best hybrid supplements (‘Buy your companion these chew-safe sweaters NOW!’); and their respective hybrid owners each with queries quite similar to your own.
“Hybrid has started taking my clothes [URGENT]!”
“Is my hybrid sick? Clothes disappearing, feverish, etc…”
“How do your hybrids let you know if they aren’t feeling good?”
To the symptoms that most-closely aligned with your own canine hybrid’s, the most popular conclusion by the panel of amateurs was that they were likely feeling the effects of the changing seasons. Hybrids, particularly purebreds, were more susceptible to heat and weather than humans like yourself.
And so you’d forgone the call to your hybrid specialist, Dr. Shoko, for now—in favor of helping Choso keep cool as much as possible, and supporting him through these motions.
Until today: when you’re folding your laundry and realizing that half your underwear drawer was missing.
As you’re opening up the rickety wooden drawer even further, it clatters mockingly up at you. At your flabbergasted expression—you were sure it’d been at least a third more full the last time you opened it up. At the way you’re bending down and peering in, as if expecting to see the rest of your panties and bras somehow hidden away inside.
Nothing.
You shut the drawer and straighten up silently.
The rest of your laundry sits idly at the foot of your bed, though the last thing on your mind was attempting to finish your folding. You don’t think you could’ve succeeded in doing so even if you tried.
Because you already know who did this.
Hell- there was only one other person living in your snug Tokyo apartment. It would be impossible not to be him.
Your roommate of five months.
Your hybrid.
The ever-nervous, ever-sweet, ever-handsome Choso Kamo.
You remember the day you got him as if it was yesterday: that phone call that changed everything. The massive hybrid shelter in your neighborhood had been holding an adoption program; in which humans could sign up to be caretakers and companions for hybrids freed from large-scale mills and facilities that raced to churn out the most purebred hybrids. All shapes and species—from the deep underbelly of having a society where humans and hybrids co-existed.
Mostly temporarily, of course - until the hybrids chose to pursue jobs, education, and whatever else it is that they wanted to do.
Tokyo JSH (Jujutsu Shelter for Hybrids) wasn’t just a simple rescue operation; but their territories spanned far and wide from medical facilities, to rehabilitation, to temporary homes, to this current matching program that let the public get a more hands-on method to volunteer. Led by Ieri Shoko - a caracal hybrid herself - it was one of the most famed for their sheer number of hybrids taken in and reassimilated into society. You yourself had volunteered for JSH on a few occasions.
And having a soft spot for hybrids, you barely thought twice before signing up for this new program.
The registration process had been long and tedious - though you didn’t blame them. Columns upon columns of forms to fill out. Towers upon towers of medical checks for you yourself. They investigated your apartment, they investigated your job, they investigated your personality and ability to house a troubled hybrid temporarily—until they could get back on their feet.
And even longer than the registration process had been the waiting process.
It’d been months- almost a year before you heard back from the shelter - and by then, you’d begun to think that perhaps they hadn’t found you suitable after all. But then…then it’d happened.
Then you’d been rung by none other than Dr. Ieri Shoko herself.
The fuzzy-eared doctor had asked you to come into the shelter the very next day, if you were still up to it- and of course, you were up to it!
Spiffed and spruced. Smoothing down your best outfit - for you did want to give a good first impression - you were outside the doors to Tokyo JSH before they’d even been unlocked. The teenage employee in charge of opening those double doors had shot you a strange look as you waited patiently for them, but that didn’t matter—you were about to meet your newest roommate.
Of course, you were aware that it wouldn’t be all sunshine and daisies and- and whatever else the saturated infomercial playing on loop inside the shelter lobby showed. But at the very least, you hoped by the end of this, you’d be making a lifelong friend out of this - to help someone without expecting anything back…if not a friend then you hoped you’d at least be making a change. And that’s why you were here.
Dr. Shoko had entered the shelter not too long after the infomercial’s 50th loop.
She seemed somewhat surprised to see you here so early - no doubt the first volunteer she was seeing for the day - though her effortlessly composed features didn’t betray a thing. You, however, were feeling a churning amalgamation of nervousness and excitement that you’re sure showed.
Though she was kind enough not to point it out, “You’re here early.” And with that, you were being led to the separate patients’ ward.
The air was thick with saline and tension—and the acrid smell of adrenaline. Bed after bed. Each one had their white curtains drawn, and out of respect you didn’t dare peek inside - instead you kept your eyes fixed firmly on where you were going.
So much so that once Shoko stopped in her tracks, you almost bumped into her back.
Hastily, you looked up to find that…this, too, was a bed obscured by thick white curtains. Only, that was where the similarities between this hybrid and the others stopped: lost in your whirlwind of thoughts, you hadn’t realized that Shoko had led you to the sole bed at the end of the hallway - the one at least twenty-five meters away from all the other hybrid patients.
Solitary. Silent—no hums or growls that emanated from beyond the opaque partitions.
Sectioned off, almost.
It made you wonder just what sort of hybrid - you looked at the chart hung up at the foot of the bed - Choso Kamo would be.
According to the other notes on the chart, they were a dog hybrid like most of the others here—Canis lupus familiaris. And to be more specific, Choso was said to be a Great Dane.
And though you had better manners than to engross yourself in someone else’s medical chart, you couldn’t stop your eyes from wanting to read even further. Quickly finding out other such details like his gender, his age, his height (6’4 was to be expected as a Great Dane hybrid…but nonetheless absolutely massive), and even his rescue from-
“An underground fighting ring.” Shoko told you in a measured tone, and you’d picked up on the fact that she didn’t want to disturb the hybrid inside those curtains. “It’s not often that we’re able to rescue hybrids from fighting rings- alive, that is. Though they remain our toughest problem.”
Your mouth felt parched, “I…I see.”
“This hybrid was lucky—he was said to be their top fighter. But no one lasts long in an underground fighting ring.” She looked at you solemnly, “No one. And before we proceed, I need you to understand what you’re getting yourself into. I know how much you love helping hybrids - I’ve seen you ‘round here almost every week - but I need you to understand that Choso might not be the easiest companion.”
You nodded seriously.
“It’ll take him some time- and on some occasions he might even lash out.” Shoko gestured to the other beds - namely the distance between them. “We’ve had to separate him from the other hybrids as well.”
You looked from them and back, “But surely he’s not dangerous-”
“No.” She shook her head, “He’s hurt. He’s powerful. But most of all, he’s highly intelligent.” Her ears twitch, and there’s a small quirk at the edge of her painted lips, as though a smile—“All he needs is some love and care, and someone kind enough to wait for him…which is exactly why I chose you.”
And how could you not help Choso Kamo after that?
So she’d peeled back the curtains and oh…and inside had been perhaps one of the largest hybrids you’ve ever seen. One of the most magnificent.
Even for a purebred, Choso’s drooping ears were covered in the darkest, glossiest coating of chestnut brown. They’d perked up even before you’d entered - no doubt hearing every single nervous breath you were trying to regulate - and they stayed on alert even as he caught sight of you. His sharp canines made an appearance. His powerful tail whipped.
And yet, even with his features twisted into something unwelcoming, you found the wind knocked out of you at the utter beauty of his features.
They were prominent and pretty. As though carved by the most delicate of hands: those slightly downturned eyes of his, the pertness of his mouth, those high cheekbones.
There was a glint of something unforgiving in the depths of his chocolate irises, however, as though weathered through the years. Something honed.
Sitting up on his bed, his gaze narrowed as you entered his space- and a slightly feral growl had left Choso’s lips. His toned body was naked beneath the clinical blankets, and he gripped them as if he was ready to fling them off and attack-
You slowly took a step backwards - something other than fear. You understood how it felt to want to be alone for some time.
And sitting on the empty bed beside him, you waited in silence as he realized you weren’t here to attack—and leaned back into his crisp mattress. Though he still looked slightly wary of you, you didn’t hesitate before introducing yourself and launching into a conversation - rather one-sided at the time, but a conversation nonetheless.
Shoko had smiled and left the two of you alone for now. Meanwhile you spoke of your day, your job, the weather outside and- did he like the food here? What were his favorite foods?
Despite the fact that Choso didn’t answer a single one of your gentle questions, you weren’t deterred. And it wasn’t long before you’d looked up at the clock on the end of the hallway—and realized that it was nearly past visiting hours. Choso himself had seemingly come to the same conclusion, as he watched your eyes drift back to him.
And you’d only had one more question left for him.
“Do you want to come with me?”
And he’d given you a single, short answer—in a deep baritone that sounded as though it hadn’t been used in years. “Yes.”
From then on it’d been a short few hours of paperwork - much shorter than your initial registration - to get Choso officially situated in your apartments. In a week’s time he was discharged from JSH and gathering his sparse belongings (nothing but a broken collar) to move in with you in your Tokyo nook.
Your first outing together had been to buy him all sorts of new clothes and necessities and a collar - something that you didn’t think Choso would like. But Shoko had recommended you get one, just in case.
And so there had been a pretty, pink-colored collar with your name on it—fitted to Choso’s size—jostling around at the bottom of your shopping bags as you dragged the Great Dane hybrid from store to specialized hybrid store.
The first day had been a little awkward…you introduced Choso to the guest’s bedroom that was now all his - and he’d locked himself in there for about two days. Only coming out once he’d completely and fully immersed himself inside, once he’d finally gotten used to the sense of a place—a place that was his own.
Following had been a blurred few weeks of attempting to get used to one another in this limited space. Choso himself wasn’t all that bad of a roommate, to be honest - he’d spoken to you in bits and pieces whenever he felt like it, gathering up after himself, and letting you know whenever he liked your cooking. And you scoured for these interactions like a man in search of an oasis in the desert, after prolonged summer after summer, after prolonged heatwave after heatwave.
You weren’t even sure why you were drawn to him so much- sure, Choso Kamo was one attractive being. Especially when he was walking around the apartment after a shower, in nothing but a slightly-dampened towel…
But more than that—he was just so damn sweet.
You came to understand that the more you found out about him.
It started off small: the charred attempt at preparing breakfast for you in the second week he was here, the shy way he’d tug at your collar - despite being such an intimidating size - whenever he encountered another dog hybrid in public. He followed you around everywhere—everywhere. He waited right outside the door for you whenever you went to work.
And come to find that…Choso wasn’t the strong, seethingly silent type you’d initially assumed at all. He was smart. He was funny. He was such a sweetheart.
Soon enough, once he’d opened up to you in the coming months, you’d come to find that Choso actually loved sappy romance movies (and he cried at the end every time), Choso loved making little treats for you whenever you were down, Choso loved cuddlin’ up to after a long day at work. Perhaps it was unconditionally true what they say about Great Danes being ‘gentle giants’ - because Choso Kamo was the gentlest giant of them all.
And after five months, the two of you were what you could honestly consider good rommates—good friends, actually. Though the housing situation was meant to be temporary until the hybrid was able to get a place of their own - and/ or wanted to - you could honestly see yourself living with Choso for the rest of time.
Who would have thought?
Though the collar still sat collecting on one of your cabinets. You hadn’t brought it up, and Choso - despite eying it from time to time - hadn’t asked, either.
Everything had been perfect—that is, until about a few weeks ago when your clothes had started disappearing.
It started off with a jacket here, a bracelet there, and then something you couldn’t ignore - an ugly Christmas sweater from the last holidays (that you honestly weren’t upset to see go). And you could’ve let it slide had it been limited to these souvenirs that you wouldn’t mind never having to think of ever again.
But your underwear?
Not only was it your underwear, but it was about half your entire drawer? Perhaps even more so? All those lacy black numbers n’ those matching sets, all those expensive lingerie you’d treated yourself to and even a few of those grandma panties with holes in them- you couldn’t help but wonder just what your hybrid needed these for…
Nesting wasn’t as common for dog hybrids, right? Besides, Choso had a perfectly comfortable bed that you knew he loved and adored.
To be honest, there was one person in the forums who’d suggested that perhaps those aforementioned hybrids were veering into ruts and heats- though, they’d gotten downvoted to hell.
And though you’d considered the possibility…that certainly wasn’t the case this time, right?
You’d read up on the matter prior to meeting Choso, and you knew that that particular period occurred every two to three months for a hybrid. But in the five months since getting to know him, and since worming your way into his good graces, Choso had never shown any indication of a rut.
Not even the slightest glimpse of it.
And that was certainly alright - some hybrids simply didn’t have certain proclivities, or perhaps their pheromones didn’t overtake them as such. But your question remained: if Choso hadn’t started his rut then, why would it start now? There must be another explanation, surely.
And so you’re still mulling over the possibilities as you’re trudging your way to him- knock-knock-knocking on the door to his bedroom. Choso opens the door instantly - as he always did when it came to you - and you’re somewhat taken aback at the sudden…shirtlessness that you’re bestowed with.
Clearly fresh out of the shower.
With his long hair untied, wet tips reaching his broad shoulders- with glistening droplets of water slipping down his hairline and down the middle of his chest. With a tattooed No. 1 on the sculptured ridges of his right v-line. With his toned chest slightly panting—at the sight of you.
Choso’s flushed lips part-
“Cho…” At the sound of your voice uttering his cute nickname, Choso’s long tail immediately starts wagging. And you’re finding it hard to keep the sternness in your voice, “I didn’t disturb you, did I? I just wanted to ask whether you wouldn’t happen to know where my erm- underwear disappeared, would you?”
And at that- his eyes go slightly wide. “U-underwear?”
And you’d almost have been fooled by the innocent blush that spread across his cheeks…if it wasn’t so damning, that is. “Yes. Underwear, Cho. Where is it?”
“And you’re asking me—?” He pleads.
“My panties didn’t just grow legs and walk, Choso.” You cross your arms with a sigh, “They’re not magical.”
“…I think you’re magical.”
Somewhat catching you off-guard—“You can’t just-” And you feel something flip at the pit of your stomach, “Don’t think you’re going to wiggle your way out of this, okay? I need my underwear back before tomorrow- unless you want me to go to work pantyless-”
His canines slip out with a growl, muscles rippling as he shivers. “Never.”
“Then you better- return them.” You’re wagging your finger strictly at him, to which he lets a sheepish smile escape.
He places a hand on the top of the doorway - a gesture of nervousness, surely. “Y-yes, ma’am.” That little nickname you’d told him time and time again not to use—why so formal? But you can’t help but notice the bulge of his swole muscles, still dappled in the dampness of the shower.
And to hide the flip in your stomach - again - you’re sighing and looking away from the vision of Choso before you.
You could still hear the fervent wagging of his tail.
“Wanna go out for a wal-”
“Yes.”
.
.
.
“Okay- ready, Cho?” Slipping your shoes on, you turn towards the hybrid that stood at the edge of the threshold.
Choso was never the type to be leashed whenever the two of you went on walks - you suppose that came with his seeming distaste for the collar. He’d meander along beside you, and though you’d been nervous about losing him the first few times, Choso had proved himself to be loyal and steadfast by your side. Never wandering off too far, even when he was exploring in the hybrid park.
And right now—he was shuffling shyly. “Y-yes…”
You frown, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing-” He replies hastily, putting on his own shoes and getting ready to follow you out the door. But even so…his eyes drift beyond the threshold. “It’s just…”
“Hey…” You’re lowering your voice- and the tension bleeds out of his shoulders as you reach out and gently hold onto his arm. “You can tell me anything, y’know?”
And that’s what makes him finally muster up the courage- “I want to put on the collar, ma’am.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
And who were you to say no to that?
And it feels as if you’re walking on air as you go up to the cabinet and pull those glass doors open - taking out that pretty, pink collar you’d bought specifically for him. Slightly dust-bitten. Yet its heart-shaped pendant glimmers in the sunlight, your name etched onto there—Choso dons that name proudly as you’re fastening it onto his pale neck.
“Tell me if it’s too tight, alright?” Its metal buckle hisses coldly against his nearly-feverish skin: was he heating up?
That prominent Adam’s apple of his bobs- “Mhm…”
Before long, the two of you find yourselves walking down the summery pavement; it was a beautiful day and the balmy breeze kisses your cheeks. Clouds frothing. Birds twittering. You’re humming at the feeling of warm sunlight on your skin, contrasted by the unfamiliar coldness of that looped handle of the leash in your hands.
The thin, chain-linked length sways just a little—leading up, up, up to the collar wrapped around Choso’s throat. It lets off a metallic sound that melds with the bustling noises drifting from your local hybrid park - you hadn’t had Choso for long before you found out about this place.
And ever since about your second or so week with him, you’d been going there almost daily. With Choso being so naturally shy, it was a good place for him to make friends and interact with someone that wasn’t just you—and bit by bit, you’d gotten the privilege of seeing him open up. Hell, he even had a few regular friends there. And by now, he looked forward to the park just as much as you did- except…today, Choso was pulling back a bit.
Not as though he wanted to leave, but as though he always wanted to be half a step behind. No matter how much you slowed down your own pace for him.
“C’mon, Cho.” You’re gently pulling on the grip of his leash, and yet it doesn’t give away anything. “We’re a little late, your friends will be leaving soon.”
He doesn’t answer.
“Choso?” Your fist tightens around the leash.
He doesn’t budge a single inch—in fact, he seems to slow down even further.
“Choso, come on-”
And then he’s letting out the softest, sweetest sound that makes you stop directly in your tracks- “N-ngh—” Something so unexpected. That you can only turn around and stare at him.
Choso fiddles with the zipper on his jacket, eyes downturned- and yet, you’d be able to make out that cute blush of his anywhere.
You attempt to take a peek at his expression, “Something wrong? D’you wanna go home, Cho?”
He shakes his head. “N-no…” And the fidgeting with that metallic nub grows even faster, Choso’s feet shuffling on the smooth, grey sidewalk. “It’s just…keep going at your own pace, ma’am.”
“My own pace? But isn’t that a little too fast for you today?” You probe.
And he nods, “Yes…” Barely even a whisper, “Keep doing that- k-keep pulling on my leash.”
Electricity zaps down your spine at his tone- oh, his tone. Currents of it leaving your mind a little fuzzy, and curdling somewhere between…
Choso raises his nose up into the air to sniff— with his honed senses, and you couldn’t start tugging on his leash fast enough. “A-alright then.” You weren’t sure to exactly what degree his senses were honed, but you didn’t doubt he could smell even the wetness of your cunt - it’s exactly why you’d tampered down proddin’ away at yourself with your vibrator after he’d moved in.
And then he stalls so you pull once more-
“Fuck-”
And you look towards him instantly, “Shit- I’m sorry. Did I pull too hard, Cho?”
“No-” He shakes his head immediately, “No, not at all.”
The tighter it was, the better.
The air feels more humid than it had once been—so much thicker. It’s enough that you feel like you can finally breathe only once you catch sight of the hybrid park; those swooping slides and those green, open spaces. Slides and tunnels. Stores and pathways.
You’re reaching up to unclip his leash, and Choso lets out a sheepish smile as he stops you. “I-I want to keep the collar on, is that okay?”
You’re stunned. “That’s perfectly alright, Cho.” And so you watch his tall figure stalk towards his usual group of companions, your name sparkling on the pendant between his collarbones. Perhaps you should ask him about this sudden change, but…you decide not to push it for now - perhaps it was still the weather that still had him all out of sorts.
Deciding that you’d join him in playing just a little later - at least when your knees weren’t feeling as weak as they do right now - you sit down on one of the benches overlooking the park. It makes you smile to see Choso laugh and talk with his hybrid friends—such a stark difference from how he’d been when you first met him.
You were proud of him.
“Hey, Choso’s wearing a collar today?” A sudden voice makes you look up—and who else would it be but the ever-charming Kusakabe? You’d met the older man on your first visit to the hybrid park - and you were sure you’d been such a sight: awkward and standing by the edge of the park, a towering unleashed hybrid at your side, both of you unsure what to do.
He’d been the one to reach out to you first- asking you whether you wanted to join him and his smaller, more welcoming canine hybrid. That had been the first time that you’d seen Choso interact with another hybrid without bearing his fangs.
As a much more experienced hybrid owner than you, you admit that he’d helped you smoothen your journey as a new companion—vastly. All the best spots to eat here. All the hybrids to be steered clear of due to their aggressiveness. So it was practically routine to run into the dark-haired man during your days at the park, and so you flash him an easy smile. “He is, isn’t he? New development.”
“Pink. Looks good on him.” Kusakabe nods approvingly, arms crossed. “Everyday he surprises me.”
“Right?” And with a chuckle, you’re holding up the slender chainlink leash. “Though if he chooses to continue then I might just have to get something stronger…”
“Oh, I know just the place-” And Kusakabe sits down right next to you on the bench - thigh against thigh, arm against arm. You’re unable to say anything about anyone’s personal space before he’s pulling his phone out and gesturing for you to lean in—“There’s this shop downtown in Shinjuku I go to- the best discounts. It’s right beside the convenience store and the-”
And as soon as you blink, Kusakabe is ripped from his seat next to you.
And before you crouches Choso.
Though not as you know him. Not at all.
Choso bears his piercing canines and lets out a rumbling growl; muscles of his back shifting, body panting, claws protruding—and though you couldn’t see his face, you knew it was contorted into something of utter murder. And you weren’t sure whether this was just your imagination due to the tension of the incident…but did he seem somewhat…bigger? Veins popping. Back hulking. There was almost something…animalistic about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on- other than the fact that he was scarin’ off the others around you like a guard dog. He lets out another rumble of gnarled words and it’s enough to make every hair on your body raise.
“Stay away.” It’s about all you can make out.
You stand immediately, heart pounding. “Ch-Cho?” You reach towards him.
“Stay away.”
Was that really him?
He repeats.
And then he repeats again.
And he repeats and he repeats- as if crazed. Kusakabe pales and wastes no time creating some much-needed distance between himself and the hybrid.
He bumps into his own cowering hybrid.
“Choso-”
“Stay away from my mat-”
“Choso- enough.” And you finally manage to pull him back - he doesn’t even seem to register you beside him for a brief few seconds. Not until you force him to just fucking look at you—
And then - only then - do his claws retract, and the sharpness in his eyes fades just a little bit—turning into their usual chocolate-caramel brown once he turns them towards you. You look into his dilated peripherals and wonder whether he was really the same hybrid as just a few seconds before.
Choso Kamo could easily overpower you, but he’s pulled by your arms easily.
As you look around, you’re realizing that almost everyone in this vicinity of the park was staring at you. The hybrids nearby had their ears lowered. The owners were tugging on leashes of those same hybrids that refused to move- seconds away from danger and they were too afraid to move. Kusakabe himself was blindly reaching for his own companion. Hell, even the birds seemed to have stopped fluttering about—as though summer itself had been paused for this sudden feral coldness of your sweet Choso. You can’t help but let a shiver run through you as you imagine just what might have happened if you weren’t there to stop him.
Choso would have torn that man to shreds.
Without thinking twice, you loop a finger underneath his collar and pull him away- not even bothering with the leash anymore. Fuck…his skin was just feverish. “C’mon.”
And for the first few tugs, Choso doesn’t respond—doesn’t dare to tear his eyes away from the trembling Kusakabe. But then you’re saying his name once more, “Choso.” He jolts as though hit with a thousand volts of electricity- and you’re quickly pulling him out of the park. Not even a second glance at the mess you’ve left behind, “We’re going home.”
He quietly responds from beside you, “Yes ma’am.” In a voice so heated.
Collar tight on his neck.
Tight. Tight all throughout your speedy walk back home—even afterwards. And once you’re attempting to reach up and free him of that restraint- Choso flinches away from your hands faster than light.
Starin’ straight at you with his dazed, darkened brown eyes he holds the buckled lock of the collar and crushes it with his bare hands.
Crushes it so that it cannot be removed.
.
.
.
“I don’t know, Shoko….” Nervously gnawin’ on your lower lip, you pace the hallway outside Choso’s room. Her response comes out as languid and reassuring as ever- but you can’t help but cast a concerned look at the closed door. Locked. “He’s just never acted like this—”
“Aggressive?” Comes her question, “Why, it might just be because of the increasing temperatures that hybrids-”
“No, not just being aggressive.” You struggle to articulate, “It’s just he’s being so…”
Because it hadn’t been just the collar incident after you’d gotten home from the park. Almost immediately afterwards, Choso had rounded the room a few times- alert. Alarmed. For a second there, you almost thought he’d caught onto a whiff of something else entirely—before he’d grabbed one of the throw pillows on your couch and rubbed his swollen scent glands down its puffed surface.
Scenting.
Scenting was the act of coating an object, hybrid, or person in the pheromones of a hybrid; it’s said that they often feel more comfortable in a space if it reminds them of their own scent.
But to this extent?
You’d gotten used to Choso scenting the apartment during the first week of your cohabitating, but right now it was as if he was attempting to erase every single shred of evidence that anyone else had ever been inside this apartment.
No one but him. No one but you.
That laptop charger that your coworker had touched last week? He’s gliding the smooth surface down the side of his throat, and replacing that scent instantly. That cushion your friends had sat on the last time they visited? That hair tie you’d washed with a different shampoo than your usual? Even the damn jacket that Kusakabe had brushed up against on the park-
That one, in particular, Choso was ripping away the scent most fervently.
Until the apartment was saturated with his soft, sweetened vanilla scent.
It smelled like a bakery here.
Concerned, you’d attempted to then coax Choso into playtime- he refused. The first time he’d ever refused to spend quality time with you—not even when you’d pulled out his favorite axolotl toy. Thereafter he’d been draped across your living room couch for hours on end, panting, sickly; the only times he’d moved was to disappear into the bathroom every fifteen minutes. And each time he came out more and more feverish than before - flushed down to his chest, trembling just a little. Hands pressed between his thighs. What did that…
When you’d finally insisted that perhaps the two of you go see a doctor, he’d disappeared into his bedroom and refused to come out.
Not even when you’d knocked.
Not even when you’d called for dinner.
And you were two steps away from begging- but instead you’re regurgitating your woes to the ever-trustworthy Dr. Ieri Shoko.
She listens to your day silently.
“Now, I don’t want you to worry…” Of course, the only thing she was doing by being so evasive was making you worry. “-and this is just a suggestion, of course-”
“Anything.” You’re pleading, “Just- anything that’ll make him feel better.”
She hums, and even through the phone it sounds knowing. “Have you ever considered that…” Somewhere in the distance, your hallway clock tick-tick-ticks away—and it feels as though your stomach flips just in time with its clanging announcement of the hour. “-perhaps Choso might be in rut?”
Breathless, “What?”
You hear the flipping of pages - presumably notes - from her side of the call. “It seems that in our care, Choso Kamo was yet to experience a rut. And from what little information we were able to gather from his previous…accomodation, the same can be said for there.”
“I thought Choso couldn’t get ruts?” It’s surprising that your voice manages to be so steady.
“Perhaps so.” Shoko answers, “But that is merely a medical assumption.”
Your brows furrow, “W-what are you saying?”
And she sounds as sage as ever, “What I’m saying is that there is no evidence to suggest that Choso can experience a rut-” You’re just about to open your mouth in agreement. “-however, there is no experience to suggest the contrary, either.” More flipping pages—“For all we know, the lack of a rut period for this hybrid could be a result of the high-pressure environment that he’d been placed in since his mature years. We’ve certainly seen as much- though, I never did think that this would be such a case.”
And you just about can’t believe what you’re hearing—“Wait- so you’re saying that Choso can experience a rut…all because he’s finally feeling comfortable?”
“Safe, is the more likely option.” She corrects, “Though comfortable isn’t incorrect, either. As well as open, happy, attracted-”
You reel- “Attracted? To who—?”
There’s a slight pause.
“I might be no optometrist-” She deadpans, “-but rest assured that I’m not blind.”
A sudden rush of something in your veins—“A-and what can I do to help him through this…rut?”
“At this stage? Find him a mate.” Shoko answers, and there’s shuffling from the other end of the line. “Or be his mate.”
You’re speechless.
“Good luck!”
A tone rings. The call is over.
And you’re left alone in your Tokyo apartment- alone with the massive puppyboy that was in the throes of his rut.
The door feels taller - more intimidating - than you remember it being when it’d been nothing but an empty guest’s room. But now it had meaning to it…it had someone inside that you cared about. Cared about to an extent that perhaps you never thought you would—fuck. Before you know it, you’d been standing motionless outside Choso’s doorway for a few minutes.
And you’re sure he can smell your heady wetness from inside.
And once you’re jolting back to your senses, you realize that your legs had lugged you as clooooose to it as you can go - had already put a hand on the doorknob that you don’t remember putting there.
You twist it open.
And the wave of pheromones that hits you is enough to bring you to your knees.
The flurry of vanilla sweetness, of the sunshine of early morning, of the warmth that comes from days spent at the beach—it all envelopes you like a whirlwind set to devour you whole. First it’s taking presence in your lungs, then your brains, then your cunt. Quite literally- you grasp onto the wooden beam of the doorway in an attempt not to embarrass yourself.
But you don’t think that Choso was in the presence of mind to care.
You don’t think he even notices you enter at first.
He’s buck-naked on top of his bed. All twisted up in slightly-dampened sheets, he looked like a Renaissance painting; with his meaty thighs spread wiiiiiiide and his angry red cock throbbing between his legs, with his entire body covered in a thin sheen of perspiration, with his tail not even wagging anymore, with his pinkish mouth parted and letting out the prettiest whine after whine as he fucks up into his fist.
Up and up.
Again and again.
He still has his collar on him.
Every muscle in his nearly-Herculean body twitching as he does so. Abs tensing. Biceps bulging—
Dribbles of sap explode from his tip like a damn fountain- leaving his hand glistening in layers of sticky glue-like substance. Shaft pulsing in the air. Heavy balls twitching once-twice- If it isn’t just the filthiest sight you’ve ever seen…he cums.
With the most pornographic cry of your name falling from his lips.
And from the puddle right below those ruttin’ hips of his, you wonder just how many times he’s cum to the thought of you before.
Choso gliiiiides his palm down his aching shaft to drag out his high. Again and again.
Pump after pump.
And it’s only once those sticky white droplets of seed have petered out that he’s finally attempting to crack his eyes open. Long lines of tears glimmer down his cheeks, and you think he just looks so pretty whimperin’ out your name as the last few ropes of his cum empty out of his cock. Letting his sweaty head slump back against the pillows, Choso’s chest heaves as he attempts to catch his breath before—
Oh- and how is he supposed to catch his breath when you’re standing there - so beautiful and fuckable - in front of him? Jaw dropped.
Unbeknownst to himself, Choso’s tail starts wagging.
Unbeknownst to you, your thighs are pressing together.
And he lifts his sensitive nose in the air once more taking—one sniff, two sniff. Like cherries. It’s all he needs to register in that hazed brain of his that you’re completely and utterly soaked through those panties you weren’t wearing.
He wasn’t exactly doing anything lewd, but you think you’ve never felt more exposed.
Pulling down the hemline of your short, short skirt, you gasp- “Ch-Choso.”
And he flinches.
As if you’re struck him down to his very core—there’s something carnal there that shifts within Choso’s eyes and obscures anything of the sweet hybrid that you knew. His body trembles as he heaves to a stand beside the bed - and it’s just then that you’re realizing that in his rut, Choso was much bigger than you normally knew him to be. He was taller. Bulkier.
Just as he had been at the park, it’s like a more base part of him had taken over. Invaded.
Those claws of his drag down the soft covers of the bed and tear it to shreds without even trying- and you start to wonder what that might just mean for you…
He’s oozing power you knew he had- you knew he had, but never knew he’d think to harness as he crosses the bedroom in nothing but three strides.
And he kneels before you in a shorter amount of time.
Kneels.
Like it’s where he was always meant to be, beneath you like this, those capped knees of his strike the carpet with two thuds! Hard enough that it should hurt a normal human, though not even the faintest glint of pain registers in Choso’s eyes - so dilated now that they were almost completely engulfed in blackness.
His milky thighs squeeze around your calves. Which inadvertently means you can feel his cock grow even harder than before…
From your feet, he’s peering up at you with an expression akin to worship—clammy fingers grasping desperately at your skirt. They’re sliding just beneath - where his feverishly hot skin sizzles against your own - and a sudden pang of neediness shoots through your every blood vessel.
The air in the room suddenly feels hotter. Sweeter.
And you’ve always wanted Choso Kamo, but those pheromones he’s jetting out makes you feel almost dizzily greedy to feel him-
“Ma’am…” Choso’s voice quivers out—husky. But it wasn’t in the way that made him sound demanding- no, it was veering on the edge of an unsteady pleading. His unfairly handsome face cocks ever-so-slightly to the side, and he’s looking up at you through his loooong dark lashes. Puppydog eyes. “-permission to eat you out?”
You’re nodding so rapidly that your head bumps against the wall you’re pressed up against- hips bucking towards him, and he only yearns even closer with a whimper. “Yes—” You’re uttering out, “Yes, pl-”
But you didn’t think that Choso Kamo would ever make you beg for him, did you?
Hell, he should be the one begging—just to taste you. Just to sniff your pretty pussy. Just to tip his head slightly backwards and let those ropes of clingy sap leak down his tongue aaaaaaall the way down to his throat. His pheromones leave him in gusts, rendering the hybrid more n’ more ruined every time you’re blinking down at him. “Permission to swallow, ma’am?”
“You may.”
You witness the exact moment that Choso Kamo tastes you on his tongue for the first time.
Because his powerful, hybrid tail starts to wag harder than you’ve ever seen it. Because he groans. Because a primal noise escapes him that sounds like the most erotic music to yours eardrums—“Fuck.” Choso’s eyes go slightly wide. “Fuh-fuck…”
With the wettest, most lecherous plap! that mouth of his drops even further ajar. To plaster more of you across his maw.
You’re the sweetest things he’s ever had the pleasure of smelling- with or without pheromones.
His Adam’s apple bobs with the wads of your pussy’s needy juices slippin’ straight into his gullet. Pressing himself so close to you that he’s physically unable to breathe through his nose- Choso wastes no time before clawin’ onto both sides of your hips and plastering your sticky, syrupy pussy all over his mouth.
Just wide open.
Hot, open-mouthed kisses.
“Sh-shiiiiit—” Gasping, your hands snake down to grab onto Choso’s sweaty locks. They were practically pitch-black with perspiration by this point, making it slippery for your hands to tighten around and place the slightest pressure when tuuuuuugging-
Choso fights with everything left in him to not dig his claws into your pretty thighs and drape your thoroughly wet pussy across his mouth. He mewls, “N-no.” His kisses grow more fervent. “No, baby…”
Eyes just a bit teary from the sudden stimulation, you’re wondering just what it is that poor Choso’s huffing n’ puffing about. And that’s the instant you’re witnessing the dog hybrid lean up onto his haunches and jerk his toned hips against your legs. That reddened, throbbing erection of his crushing against your calves.
It’s the only bit of friction he can get- and the only bit of friction that he needs to spurt his webbed seed all down your skin. Splatterin’ some against the wall and even down himself—he’s making such an utter mess as he cums just from eating you out.
That, too, with merely a few sultry licks.
Whimpering.
Choso’s head throws back with an echoing sound, lips wobbly oh-so-cutely as he drenches your heated flesh with his gooey sap. It forms a layer of warmth that you don’t get too feel for too long-
Because the man himself is draggin’ his roughened fingertips down the dredges of it and stuffing every ounce he can gather between your legs. Straight into the sinking divot where your hole was, Choso makes sure to retract his fatal claws as he slides his lacquering layers down your pussylips. Painting gloss after gloss of creamy white.
Pheromones were just soaking into the air, making it so heavy.
And that ruddied tip of his tongue slips out and starts lavishin’ away at your messy slit. Just so fucking messy.
Despite his tail wagging away at the lewd sight, he can’t keep the regret out of his tone. “I c-can’t believe I’ve cum.” He utters out a breathy pant into your cunt. “I can’t believe it—”
“Awww- s’okay, Cho.” You swear you see his cock twitch at just the slightest mention of that nickname falling from your gorgeous lips. “It’s probably your first time, huh?”
“I-it is.” Your poor puppydog nods.
“Then it’s alright-”
“But I wanna be good for you, mistress.” And even more sinful than that title was the way he was looking up at you with the most agonized tearful eyes—“I-it’s all my body’s telling me to do…” As Choso’s huffin’ away, the edge of his lower lip jutted out into the cutest pout. His brown brows furrow as he focuses on chastely pecking your hole—and you’re hit with the understanding that he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. By now he’s rutting against your calves like a dog in heat - and it would be incorrect to say he wasn’t. “I wanna please you.”
“Is that soooo?” You’re crooning out- and he shivers. Reaching the edge of your foot out, you slide up the lined muscles of his left leg - ending up pressed between his thick thighs.
You step on Choso’s rock-hard erection with your foot and he all but cries-
Humming to yourself, “Then act like it.”
He gasps, “Wh-what?” And though he was in disbelief - his ears waste no time pricking up.
Your heel crushes his hot, dribblin’ erection- “Awwww, didn’t hear me, baby?” Harder. As he bucks his hips and lets out a sudden yelp, you’re pulling his handsome face up to yours—“Why’re you giving me kitty licks if you’re a dog hybrid, huh? Why don’t you eat me out…”
Hooking your non-dominant leg over his shoulder.
“-like a good boy then?”
And then you’re swervin’ his head just sliiiightly to the side—and helping him open up the puffy slit of your pussy and ease his tongue inside.
And all it takes is one push - just one push - of Choso’s flattened, ridged tastebuds- for you to clench around him. The most goopiest feeling.
Enough to make a hybrid addicted.
“Oh…” He barely has enough space to breathe let alone speak- any and every breath he has left in his lungs is spent parched over your cunt. Choso slips his fat tongue past your first ring of muscle—and you best believe that his extra-specialized hybrid tongue was tasting every droplet of your slick up close and personal. Savoring you - his bleary eyes roll to the back of his head. He’s feeling the velvety squeeze of your walls as he dives in and out, in and out, in and out.
In and oooooout- and thrusting ravenously all the way back in again.
“Shiiiiit-”
His eyes widen at the effect that he - he - seems to be having on you. “D-does this feel good-”
“Shut up n’ eat, baby.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He was just so obedient.
Not having much experience but swabbin’ the friction of his tongue wherever he could- as fast as he could. Tail wagging as fast as he could. The crowned edge of his tastebuds dig against every orifice inside you, as fast as he could.
And you’re swearing that the way he’s fucking you with is tongue feels almost…animalistic in nature.
Choso’s grip fastened tight upon either side of your squirming hips- and the tips of his fingers twitch as though he was having trouble keeping his claws back. Rugged grunts leave him with every slip n’ slide. Chin plastering against the bottom of your pussy—his handsome features scrape-scrape-scraaaape every inch of you from the end of your cunt and all the way up to the tip. Where your clit was throbbing and needy for him.
He’s whining at the feeling of that pulsation against his face, looking down innocently at your sensitive nub. “D-do I touch you ther-”
“Fuck, yes- you touch me there.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Fuck.
You’re directing your inexperienced hybrid. And perhaps it was the pheromones that were making your body looser than ever-
But you’re wielding that ruthless restraint you have on him and bucking straight against Choso’s open mouth. As his tongue slips into your hole at a constant pace, you’re making sure that that handsomely big nose of his isn’t going to waste either - just grinding down on the mostly-straight line of it. Your favorite part was that lil’ bump that he had around the middle, it’s where your clit felt its primal pangs the most satiated.
As Choso eagerly pushes his face between your tremblin’ legs and laps and laps his thick tongue away. Textured tastebuds. Sizzling against where you were most sensitive.
And you might not be a hybrid with those keen sensibilities to know what every single pheromone puff meant- but what you’re feeling right now in his sweetened fragrance was nothing more than utterly content. Pure gluttony.
He was droolin’ down both sides of his mouth and only push-push-puuuushing his face even deeper. “Please-” And his swollen mouth lolls stupidly open- probing his tongue inside to the maximum, to the very hilt of his wet muscle, and even then he grinds his face deeper like he wanted even more. “P-permission to have even…ngh, more, mistress?”
“More?” Your eyes damn-near bulge out of your skull- Choso was already wolfing you down like a man starved. Fucking you with his tongue and gyratin’ his nose across your clit.
Thirsty for every pearly droplet of slick you’re spraying out, his brows press upwards and he’s fixing you with the most convincing puppydog eyes you’ve ever seen. Hell, even his scruffy ears start to droop- “Please, mistress?”
Muttering underneath your breath, “I swear if you were any other…”
And how could you ever deny him that?
Oh, your hybrid was just so spoiled- but that was a problem for later. Right now, all you can think of doing is reaching down and hooking a finger in that pink collar of his—he keens as you’re using that to puuuuull him even further upwards, nose-deep between your legs, and sputters.
Rolling your hips faster and faster - you were just so glad that you had the upperhand with his collar now. Because every time that Choso even pulled away to gasp out his unsteady breaths- you’re hauling him straight back.
“What’s the matter, baby?” You’re cooing down at him, letting his flushed face crush against your pussylips. Leavin’ such a lecherous smear of your pussy’s slick across his features, “Didn’t you say that you wanted more?”
“I did- I do.” He’s whining, hips starting to rut once more. Just so teary and guttural with all the stimulation - your pussy was just ruining him, and it really didn’t help that those rut pheromones left him in an even more dire state. Choso sloshes your slick ‘round with his tongue and sobs at the searing restraint you had on his collar, “Wanted more- ngh, wanted to taste your pussy more, ma’am.”
“Then—?” Just so mean now. You tug on his collar again and make him shiver as he’s whimpering, tearing up, bucking like an animal—so overstimulated on being used. “What else does my good boy want, huh?”
“I-I’m your good boy?” Those tear-filled eyes of his are just so pretty, and they’re blinking a few times before Choso even realizes that you’ve asked a question. He hastens to answer before your tugging grows even more insistent - though he really doesn’t mind the pain…“I just wanted permission to…”
“Yeeees?”
“J-just to…”
And you’re peering down at the poor hybrid: his powerful tail is still now, and his pheromones were slowly becoming more and more maddened. You’re seeing the way his long fingers tremble where he’s holding you—edging juuuuust the slightest bit closer to your core…
“Permission to finger me-” You smile down something sinful at him, “-granted.”
He gapes, “Th-thank you, ma’am.”
“It’s a hybrid-eat-pussy world, right?”
And those slender tops of his fingers have no trouble just sliiiiiding a few inches inside- filling you up enough that his digits fill up every single orifice. Every single nook and cranny. He’s thrashin’ around inside, letting the curved tops of his fingers prod and poke away—
“Can smell you getting e-even wetter when I reach for…ngh- here.” He’s muttering out in a slightly breathy tone- slightly crazed. And the sweeter your treacly cunt jets out pheromones, the closer he’s veering towards that one spot-
Choso babbles, “Can smell you the sweetest…around here.” Through his shaggy bangs, you see those brows of his furrow- “Can smell your pussy wantin’ me to go…”
And then he’s hitting it.
“-here, ma’am.”
Unlike the sudden surges of pleasure that were almost knocking you to the floor, Choso was just looking up at you so innocently as he pumps his lengthy digits towards the very back of your pussy. Striking splat! where your g-spot throbbed—before he’s pushing inside and inside to scrape damn near your cervix.
Fingers so long that you think he could reach that spongy layer if you really wanted him to-
“D-deeper, Cho…” Your mouth waters at the delicious zaps of pleasure running through your veins. Your head throws back as they only seem to increase with every passing second, and you whine. “M’so close—deeper.”
“Close?” He breathes out, as if in disbelief.
And you best believe that Choso was running his poor fingers ragged doing exactly what you’re asking - he’s scrubbin’ up every ounce of space down your walls, he’s leaving your g-spot feeling raw at the constant whacks, he’s sure the skin of his knuckles was reddening at the impacts but—but he doesn’t even fucking think to slow down as Choso fucks n’ fucks your pussy stupid.
He could feel himself going stupid, mouth latched ‘round your pulsating clit and moaning. “Please cum.” Babbling, “P-please cum…need to make my mistress feel good-”
“Shit, and I really do feel good-”
“Need to be a good boy and give her pleasure-”
“Already doing so much, baby-”
“Need to make her cum—” Tears spilling down the sides of his handsome face, he looks up at you with pouted lips. Quivering, “Permission to make you c-cum, mistress?”
You tug on his collar - this time, high enough that you can bend down and press a chaste peck on his forehead. “Permission granted, Cho.”
And it’s just then that Choso’s reeling his fingers properly back - all the way till those rotund ends - and pushing straight into the deepest depths of your pussy. Directly into spots you perhaps weren’t even sure you had—perhaps your cervix. It certainly felt that way.
Deep.
And suddenly you’re shattering all over the hybrid’s fingers n’ mouth - something that Choso realizes before even you yourself do. His nostrils flare at the sudden peak in your stewed cherry pheromones—like the trumpets denoting the opening of those pearly gates.
Suddenly your legs tremble open and you’re gushing your orgasm down his ready tongue.
Jaw ajar, he lets you riiiiiiide your waves of bliss through and through his mouth. His handsome features. Your hands being a permanent fixture in his hair now, “P-please…” Blabbering away as the dopamine renders you more loose than ever, “Feels so good, Choso—”
Those ears of his perk up, “Yeah?”
“Feels so good- hck!” Sparking all over with pleasure. “Shit- it might just be the b-best orgasm of my damn life.”
And it really was.
You weren’t just saying this to soothe his rut - those sudden jolts and sparks, the way that he’d prolong them so much by massaging your bundles of nerves…it was the best you’ve ever felt. Choso just keeps swervin’ and swervin’ his knobbly fingertips against that pulsing target of your g-spot, in sloppy tandem with the slurps of his mouth suckling away on your clit. Again and again.
Draaaaaagging out your euphoria until it seemed like it couldn’t go on any longer- then pumping a fresh few waves of electricity into you with the sudden hits at your g-spot. Again and again.
“Mmmm, I’ve been a good boy then.” He murmurs deep into your cunt. And it’s only once most of the haze clouding your mind has cleared up - by the time that your orgasm has diminished into nothing but a few tender jolts - that you’re finally registering the way Choso’s hips were still humpin’ away against your body.
The way that Choso crushed his large, sculptured frame to yours and rutted into you like a dog in heat- “Been- been such a good boy. Can this good boy get a…”
He bores his pleading eyes up at you.
Feverishly flushed.
“-treat then, ma’am?”
You’re riding out the last of your high on that very handsome face, and you gasp. “But of course, Cho.”
In practically no time, you’re finding yourself helping Choso Kamo stand up- yes, you were the one to help him stand up.
The powerful hybrid was just too pussydrunk on you to even stand straight—being readily moved in the direction of the bed. Pheromones heating up. Rut intensified. Choso’s clamoring onto the mattress on your command, letting himself fall backwards against the pillows and half-hide his face against their puffiness.
His dewy mahogany eyes peek at you as you shrug off your clothes and join him- stopping right between those long legs of his. “Wh-what are you going to do, mistress?”
“Give you a little payback, of course.” You’re winking. And without further ado—you’re pushing apart his slightly-jittery legs; almost miles long now that you were seeing them from this angle. He was flushed all the way up to his inner thighs, highlighting the spattering of freckles that he had upon that skin.
From here, you could see his rock-hard erection even better - sure, you’d been given a proper show earlier. But this?
This gave you the opportunity to admire eeeeeevery single detail up-close.
The sheer rose shade at the crown of his shaft, the way it graduated down to the prettiest pink on his hilt. No wonder he liked that collar so much, it looked so similar to the color of his…
The veins upon veins that made the most beautiful patterns down his cock - they curved and overlapped in a way that made your cunt throb. The way his dark curls spattered him all the way down to his swollen hilt—Choso was mostly well-groomed, though he didn’t seem to have had the sense of mind to trim these days. But you almost…liked it like that.
The way he was not only blessed with incredible length, but incredible girth, too—perhaps even bigger now that he was in rut? But you’d always imagined that Choso would be the type to have a massive cock anyway, it’s always the silent ones who do…
The hybrid watches - looking as though he wanted to tear his eyes away from a vision so lewd but couldn’t - as your pretty face looms closer n’ closer to his throbbing erection. Fuck, he might just be longer than your damn face…seeing it compared like this…he can’t help but let his tail wag ferociously.
“Now now, Cho.” Your stern voice breaks through, “Settle down now or I won’t be able to-”
“S-sorry!” He stops immediately.
And you grip the base of his red, thickened cock. “No interrupting me.” Hard.
“I understand…” Choso whines, body startin’ to arch off of the mattress - though he holds himself back for the most part given how he wasn’t sure how you’d react. Would you punish him? Would you like it?
Whatever his frenzied mind had been fearfully conjuring up, it’s all wiped blank by the feeling of you surging your head down and gulping up the first few inches of him. Happily.
First, Choso’s mouth drops.
Then, the sensation of your wet tongue on his cock hits him.
Finally, he’s planting his feet at the edge of the bed and bucking- gripping onto your scalp with his hands. Bucking. And bucking. And bucking—he cries out, “Oh f-fuuuuuck, ngh—” Just a few tears of overstimulation leaving the sides of his eyes, “Fuck- ngh, this is what it feels like?”
Of course, you certainly couldn’t respond due to your mouth being full - but that doesn’t stop you from looking up at him through your lashes and winking.
The thickness of his cock fills up your entire mouth, pulsating in a way that was incredible. The creamy layers of pre that topped his bulbous tip tasted almost…sweet? Almost like salted caramel - and you didn’t know whether that was you or the pheromones talking.
“Fuck-”
You’re just starting to give Choso a few gooooood, loooong bobs of your head—up and down. Up and down. Slobberin’ your entire mouth from the top of his mushroomy tip and about halfway down that incredible length.
But that’s around when the hand at your scalp grows almost searing.
And you’re looking up to find Choso shaking his head after only a mere few seconds of you giving him a blowjob- “P-please…any longer and m’gonna cum.” Which had just been too good for him.
You pull yourself off of his fared tip with a pwah! “Aaaaand?” Still kissing him down there.
“And I want to…ngh, save it.” He admits, eyes not meeting yours.
“Save it?” You’re cocking your head in confusion, “Save it for what, Choso?”
“Well…”
“Answer me, baby.”
“Yes, ma’am—” The dog hybrid looks up at you with a slightly pouty expression, “I wanted to save for when I f-fuck you…”
Your jaw drops.
There’s a slight silence in the room- though the sudden heated increase in pheromones does enough talking for the both of you. And you’re wasting no time before removing yourself completely from his cock—he ruts.
Before pushing those hips of his right back down.
Before shuffling up the king-sized mattress to straddle either side of his thoroughly sculptured hips, feeling the curves and divots of his muscles there.
Before perkin’ your hips juuuuust behind you and catching Choso’s globular tip in your entrance- slamming your cunt down as far as you could take him.
You’re sucking in a harsh breath as the first heated inch of him enters your cunt—shit, he really did feel as good as you’d imagined. “Fuck.”
The pointed top of his shaft probin’ inwards.
Zig-zagging veins massaging up against your soft walls.
The throbbing of his shaft creating a vicious drumbeat that you find your pounding heart synchronizing to- you’re throwing your head back and arching your hips to get more of him- and right now it seems like you were the one that was finding yourself utterly ruined on his body.
Your hands find themselves slitherin’ right up his toned body—right past those ripples and curves of his muscles. Ultimately resting on top of both his pecs, “Fuck, Cho.”
“Mistress…” He pants out- lips meeting yours in an open-mouthed kiss.
With a low snarl, you’re absolutely melting into his embrace. It’s barely anything of a kiss and more like Choso was bearing his canines and glide-glide-gliiiiding them dangerously down the front of your cracked maw. Just the slight softness of his actual lips peaking through and gluing against yours ravenously, “Choso-”
“Mistress.”
“Choso- you feel so good.” Before you know it, Choso rams his strong hips up - plunging his achingly hard cock - just the slightest few inches until he suddenly stops. But not because he’d bottomed-out. It’s as though he’d been completely and utterly ready to pound your silly cervix raw- but jerked himself to a stop out of nothing but pure will and the need to-
“G-get permission.” He mutters between trembling lips, words coming out as nothing but a few slurred syllables - each one melting into the last.
And as you’re blinking away the haze in your eyes, attempting to make sense of him, you ask. “Get permission? You want permission to- ngh, fuck me, Choso? You know you already have it…‘
He shakes his head. “Not…that…” Sounding as if he was on the very verge of ruination just from the way he found himself stuffed inside you—not moving a single inch. But still ruined.
The pheromones in the room heighten, and Choso’s tail swishes agitatedly.
“Then what is it?”
“It’s something far, far dirtier…” He admits, and despite his words there was the shyest blush upon his face. And you swear his cock starts to throb even harder at his utterance—going to the extent that it felt like Choso was damn near about to explode- “It’s where I- hngh, fuck, it’s not something that a hybrid like me deserved to even imagine about you, mistress.”
As though he couldn’t even stop himself - his hips were moving in the slightest ruts up and down now. Up and down. Up and down. Barely-there grinds that almost felt more lecherous than just fucking up into you.
His tail starts to wag once more as Choso starts rubbin’ his tip against the roof of your cunt. Forgoing those rational desires of his to not fuck you until he gained permission for…whatever it is that he was too afraid to admit. Those pinkish lips of his quiver as you’re starting to clench around him—“I-it’s nothing something I deserve…but fuck, how many times I’ve thought a-about it…”
“Then tell me.” You’re humming ruthlessly down at him. His eyes slightly widen at the commanding tone of your voice - surely, you must know that he could never deny you when you speak to him like that? “That’s an order from your master, baby—”
He shivers. “A-an order?”
“Tell me what it is that you’ve been thinking about for so long.”
Choso’s slick-wettened cock slips in just a few inches deeper, and he whimpers something inaudible.
“What was that?” You’re leaning down to hear him better.
His lips moving mere millimeters away from your own, “I-I’ve always thought about- ngh, almost ever since the first time I saw you- fuck, it was like th-this animal desire in me…” Big, bulbous tears collecting at the edge of his right eye, Choso finally jerks his hips up—“Permission to breed you, mistress?”
Oh—
That ‘yes, baby’ is keening out of you faster than you can register it leaving your hips.
And that’s all it takes for Choso to succeed in bottoming-out, that’s all it takes for Choso to dig his strawberry divot against the edge of your cervix, that’s all it takes for Choso to fully n’ properly start to fuck up into you like an absolute madman.
Arching his back against the mattress.
Higher with his hips, lower with his shoulders: he runs his pumping tip across every inch of the roof of your cunt—even deeper, and then stirs his fattened length around in search of that pretty g-spot he’d been troublin’ so much not too long ago. Pump after pump.
Probe after heavy prooooobe of his geysering orifice- you’re feeling your toes curl at the sensation of being so full with him. Warm and heavy inside you. “Permission granted-” You gasp out.
And though he’d already heard your affirmative answer from earlier, it makes Choso swell up just a liiiiittle thicker at his circumference. Snaggin’ against the sides of your elastic walls, he’s filling you up like nothing before, just so plump n’ puckering up at every nook…especially around the area of his base that seemed to be growing at an even faster rate than the rest of him…
But you have no time - nor ability - to count away at the feverish throbs and stretches of Choso’s cock right now. Right now, he’s runnin’ his tip against the side of your g-spot until that pretty inner lining of your walls bulge with his sheer size—
“Permission- oh.” You’re throwing your head back in sheer pleasure, seeing white burst behind your eyes. “P-permission…” Sounding as though a broken record-player, “And for how long have you wanted this permission, baby?”
“Too long.” Choso cries out. Hands trembling upon either side of your hips, “Been wanting this pretty pussy for w-waaaay too long- as far as I can remember…was just impossible when I was smelling her sweetness all the damn time.”
Your heart races, “And how long have you been wanting to breed me-”
“Always.”
And after a few more probes n’ a sudden clench—from your sopping wet walls, Choso whimpers and tucks his head into the crook of your neck - where you’d assumed that humans had their scent glands.
His heavy balls thwack! the globes of your ass cheeks when he drills his cock inwards, “I’ve n-never had a rut before…” He admits, “It just never felt like the right time. But this- fuck, primal part of me always wondered just how pretty you’d look all round and glowing a-and…pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” You breathe.
“Pregnant with my pups.” Choso babbles out. Those doe-like eyes of his kept on rolling to the back of his head every time he’s feeling himself being clenched juuuuust a little tighter than usual. Dark brows furrowing. Hands tightening. “Wondered just how much your- hah, pretty tits would grow even more.” Mouth lathering over your right tit, he suckles—as though expecting milk to come pouring out already. “Wondered just how sweet your milk would be, mmmm…”
“And what else?” You huff. But the hybrid’s just so dazed on your pussy and his rut and your pussy that it takes a firm tug on his collar before he’s back to his senses.
“Huh- oh—” Choso blinks his teary-clung eyes back open, peering around the thickly-scented room as though he’d just forgotten where he was already. “Wondered just how many people would stare at you as we w-walked down the street, me on your leash…”
“And why’s that?”
“Because just how many of them would think that it’s me—” Out-of-breath. Voice a couple octaves higher than usual - utterly gone. You didn’t have to feel the steadily-increasing sloppiness of his cock to know that Choso was losing himself - thwack! thwack! thwack! “Just how many of them would think that it’s your poor, shy puppyboy that fucked you all pregnant, mistress?”
“Shiiiiit—” Your legs were starting to tremble - and whether because of fatigue or something else entirely, you’re unsure. But Choso immediately snakes his fingers down just a little lower to cup either side of your ass, and he’s using his immense strength to support you as you start bouncing back down onto his merciless thrusts. “Keep going-”
His eyes grow wide, “P-permission to-”
“Keep going, Choso.”
And who was he to go against his mistress’s wishes? Especially when such wishes was something that he’d been wanting to do since the day he fucking met you—fuck, perhaps even sooner. It was always in that carnal part of him that he’d been trying to ignore ever since the first time he smelled your beautiful, addictive scent outside his bed at the clinic. Those curtains were useless - he already knew that you’d be the most beautiful thing he ever laid his eyes upon.
Like cherries, syrup, and sex.
And right now he was fucking into the most beatiful thing of all- your thighs press against that No. 1 tattoo on his v-line, and you’re keening.
Arching your back so that the roooough curvature of his cock could stir up your insides even more than he already was- and that was saying quite a lot already. That ridged pattern of his veins were bumpin’ up against the sides of your channel, your nerves, and making you clench around him even tighter—leaving the hybrid more and more honest with every single thrust. “I’m s-such a dirty hybrid…so perverted.” He admits, “I’d even wonder about trying to fuh-fuck you pregnant all over again every single day—”
“H-how do you mean?” You’re panting out.
“I’d wonder how many times it’d take to plant my seed inside- to fuck you so full that it finally- hngh, takes.” Eyes only partly-cracked open, “And then I’d wonder that it’d be best to fuck you every- single- day-”
“Yes-” You’re mewling out, your nails digging into the plushness of his pecs.
“I’d make sure my hybrid cum’s dripping down your legs every second of the day-”
“Yes.”
“I’d make sure when we’re walking—ngh, going on our walks, that every single hybrid in a five-mile distance is going to smell me on you…” Choso leans in as though sharing one of his deepest, darkest secrets, “-and in you.”
“Yes—”
“And thennnnn—” It’s here that an almost sleazy smirk graces his pretty lips, “I’d wonder about fucking you even after you were pregnant.”
Your jaw drops, and your hands fly to his collar.
“I’d wonder about fucking you u-until your womb remembered me and…” So caught up in his sinful words that you hadn’t even registered that the thickened base of his shaft was only growing thicker…and thicker, and even thicker—to the extent that now it was a round circumference nearly twice or thrice what it had normally been, and you hadn’t even seemed to notice the slamming slaps against the forefront of your cunt. Faster. Harder. His right hand dips down between your jittery legs to start teasin’ your clit with fresh tugs and rolls, “—we don’t stop until we have nine kids.”
Nine kids.
Nine kids?!
Choso Kamo had been so-ravenously dreaming about pumping you full of nine of his kids; creating a small army of hybrid half-breeds that would likely look just like him but with your open warmth and that beautiful smile of his. And why was it that you could imagine it so clearly?
“Nine kids…” Eleven repeating it a few times doesn’t do much to let the words fully sink in - who would have thought that the nervous, innocent Choso Kamo would be such a lewd character inside? Who would have thought that he’d be nodding along to your repetition.
Gingerly letting his eyes slip to the side of his pillows, “B-but I know that’s just a far-off- ngh, dream, mistress.” Much more of the usual Choso that you know, though he’s still fucking up into you as though it ached him very second that he wasn’t stuffing you all the way to the brim inside - Choso’s rounded, reddened tip plasters against the back of your pussy and you’re yowling. “That’s why I stole those panties, that’s why had to- ngh, satiate myself with just my hand…”
And that makes you slightly more alert- “My panties? Where are my panties, by the way?”
He shyly shrugs.
To which you’re narrowing your eyes in suspicion, “Choso…”
And the larger hybrid almost flinches- “Th-they’re under my pillows.”
Without a mere moment of hesitation, you’re diving your hand underneath one of those puffy pillows you’d picked out just for him during that first shopping trip you’d undertaken with him…and you find all those panties you’d lost. Half your drawer, to be precise.
Choso whimpers as you’re pulling a few strappy pieces of lace and gauze out—some of the sluttiest of your collection, and your fingers had scraped the rest of it that still remained down under. Honestly, how many had he collected without you realizing at first? How many had he fucking used—?
Those scraps of fabric were sticky and slightly cloying to each of your senses- and so what else could you think of doing? What better option for punishment was there to do but gather them up into a tight ball in your hand and push them between Choso’s pinkish, puffy lips- gagging him with your panties. Your panties that he’d used to jerk off.
A taste of his own medicine - or at least it was supposed to be. You just didn’t expect for Choso’s tail to start wagging even harder than ever.
Pervert puppyboy.
“So you wanted to breed me, huh?”
“N-not wanted…” He corrects you, hips surging up uncontrollably into your wetness. “Want.”
“So you want to breed me, huh? So you want to make all those dreams a reality?” Purring, and the man beneath you can only nod with his massive tear-filled eyes - just so pretty when he cried, hm? To stimulate him even further, you’re exerting your hips to outmatch his pace, rammin’ his bulbous cock into every crevice and geysering orifice that you’re able to realize exists—“Then you know that you still haven’t gotten my- ngh, permission for that, Choso, baby.”
Choso sputters out an exhale, “P-please, ma’am?” Muffled through your own panties. Rubbin’ his roughened thumb against your clit even further to sweeten the deal—“Do I have the permission to-”
“Yes-” And whatever hopeful moan was about to leave him, you’re cutting him off. “But only on one condition.”
“Please- what is it…?” He hisses, “Please-”
“But be warned, it’s a bit of a tough one-”
“I’ll do anything.”
And this was exactly where you wanted him. Exactly. You’re smiling down at the beautiful, utterly ruined boy beneath you—and pulling him in with a finger hooked underneath his pink collar - one that proudly had your name upon his pendant - to whisper into his flustered ears. “Then…bark like you want it.”
Choso’s eyes widen just a fraction. His cock trembles dangerously deep inside of you, and his nostrils flare as he exhales a large breath. Right before-
“R-ruff…” Before he’s muffling out the sweetest, most sultry fucking barks through the panties you’d gagged into his mouth- all because you’d asked. At the smell of your treacly cunt only growing even more aroused, Choso continues—“Ruff- arf—”
Your grin grows, “Ohoho? Louder.”
“Ruff-”
“Louder.”
“Ruff—woof.” He was just embarrassing himself, and it only made him even harder. Cock blushin’ almost as much as his cheeks were by this point- “Arf- arf, pleeeeese, ma’am.”
“Hmmm?”
Those dilated pupils of his cross, and Choso’s spitting out the gag of those gauzy - soiled with his own cum - fabrics to plead through trembling lips.
“P-please let me breed you, mistress.”
And what else more could you say but—“Of course, Cho.”
And in the next few sloppy thrusts, you’re feeling Choso empty out rope after loooooong heaving rope of cum inside you. It’s sheer volumes that you never even thought possible, sheer wads that were webbin’ up your tight insides and taking over every single ounce of space inside you - each with those creamy, glued-up wads of his seed.
Warm and wet.
Wild.
They’re splashin’ around inside of you and lacquering a thiiiiick few layers upon the channel of your cunt—over and over and over again. Choso doesn’t even need to try to make sure that every single spot is covered, because the sheer volume makes it impossible for a generous heap of his sap to puddle at your cervix, gettin’ hit by a torrential wave of his cockhead striking. Pumping deep inside.
Choso’s twitchy balls press up against your ass, just the slightest bit of your pussylips, and you’re shivering as you feel the orgasm that runs through him.
Collar dangling.
“Fuck…” Choso seethes through clenched canines, one of his hands coming up to press down upon your core. That cute front of yours where if he pressed juuuuuuust right- he could feel the vibrations of his shaft emptying out at your sponge-covered womb, “Fuck, m’gonna get at least one kid tonight , ma’am.”
Soon enough, you’re crashing into your own high, too.
And it zaps through your body faster than the last one - clearly having been so overstimulated that this one overtakes you more quickly, this one makes you see stars behind your eyelids, this one makes you shiver n’ shake on top of him.
Being properly fucked through your rapidfire waves of dopamine as he leans you even closer into his arms. As he nuzzles the side of your neck. As he hums out sounds of satisfaction at every euphoric peak he’s probin’ his massive cockhead into.
As Choso leans down and bites the side of your scent glands—you’re feeling something pop!
And you’re experiencing a sudden rush of warmth like another orgasm- like a hundred thousand other orgasms. It all courses through your overstimulated body one by one, at the same time, increasing in both length and intensity—it’s breaking you down to your very core—until you don’t even realize that you’re gasping out Choso’s name like a prayer.
And he’s worshipping yours in much the same fashion.
Basically ruining it with his lewd tone as he manages to slip that girthy knot of his inside - grinding n’ grinding the plumpness of his base until he’s fit-fit-fiiiiiiiiiitting in. Your cunt stretches like elastic around him, and it’s unbelievable to you that you’re able to fit so much of him inside like this.
You can feel him hot and throbbing deep inside you.
Preventing you from leaking even a single wad of his dewy white cum you’re milking.
“My mate…” Choso rasps out. You’re collapsed on top of him by now, and he runs one open palm down the curvature of your spine—then aaaaaall the way back up again to check on that freshly-made bonding mark on you - all bloodied and already healing through the special properties of a hybrid mate’s saliva - and then even further up to trace that collar of his. Lock broken. Your name always against his beating chest. Having you mewling at the sensation of his knot-
Currently, however, it was also your head against his beating chest.
You’re gripping onto his muscular body even further- and it almost makes you chuckle to feel that way just that makes Choso’s cock twitch inside of you. “No…” You state simply, “My mate.‘
“Anything you say, ma’am.”
.
.
.
Thereafter, it hadn’t been too long before Choso had roped you into a second round. Then a third. Then a fourth—where he’d been whimpering and shooting blanks, drool dripping down either side of his mouth as his cock slid into you in a thorough mating press.
And then a fifth. A sixth.
A seventh- honestly, after the seventh you’d stopped counting.
You didn’t trust Choso to keep count, either - honestly, you don’t think you would’ve trusted Choso to remember his own name.
Not this night or any of the hot summer nights that came after.
By the time the heat’s simmered down, and your lungs don’t feel clogged with the cloying sweetness of mingled pheromones, and you’re finally able to crack open your eyelids in this sultry sauna of a bedroom—you can barely move.
Body heavy.
Limbs aching.
Even the tiniest of twitches sending soreness shooting through your vessels.
You’re finding yourself tucked to Choso’s side underneath the covers- hand thrown around his muscular side, your chin hooked into the curvature of his spine. Who’d have thought that the big, bad hybrid would’ve been a small spoon?
That collar of yours was still ‘round his neck and showed no signs of being taken off soon. And you’re remembering just then that through most of his rut, the two of you had gotten up to scarf down food and clean yourselves when necessary. Though towards the feverish end of it, honestly you couldn’t remember anything other than wanting him to mark you with a bonding bite over and over and over again- so why were you notably wiped down and smelling of your favorite body wash?
Did Choso…wash you down even through his rut?
You knew the pheromones always hit the strongest towards the beginning and the end of one’s rut, did he really push through all that n’ tenderly tuck you in?
You’re feeling such a rush of affection for your puppyboy, and, sleepily, you press a line of kisses down the column of his throat- marked as well. In the heat of the moment, you’d somehow managed to puncture Choso’s scent glands with your own human canines.
He was yours, and you were his.
Choso hums groggily and snuggles even further backwards against you. Frankly, you think you could cuddle up against him and spend another day here—another week, another month.
Perhaps even the rest of your life.
But if only that incessant bzz-bzzing would stop.
With a pained groan, you’re managing to sit up and blink your eyes somewhere behind you - where the noise seemed to be pulsing from. Choso whines in disappointment and attempts to pull you back down with his warm hands- and oh, how it hurt you to deny those puppydog eyes.
“I’ll be cuddling you soon, spoiled baby.” You tut down at him. Finally locating the source of the noise, you’re reaching your sore hand out and grabbing onto your glaring phone.
Its screen assaults you with light immediately.
And then with a phone call.
Dr. Ieri Shoko.
Wincing, you’re answering the call. “Hello?”
“Woof- you sound rough.” Her cool tone wavers just the slightest in amusement, “Rough week?”
“Rough day.” You’re joking, “Rough rut.”
And there’s a slight pause on the other end of the line, “Right, but…you do realize it’s been a week, right?”
“What?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Almost immediately, you’re ripping your ear away from the phone and checking the date- fuck, Shoko hadn’t been messing with you. It really was a week since that last time you’d called her—you spent an entire week together in bed with him? And you hadn’t even realized?
Jaw dropping as so many things hit you at once, “My job-”
“Has already been notified.” And she sounded to be the exact opposite of you, collected and pausing for what you assumed to be sips of her morning coffee. “After our last call, I signed you up for the Hybrid Rut Registry- I do this for everyone that shelters, but didn’t consider it for Choso. It lets your workplace and loved ones know if and when your hybrid is in rut—and for your relationship I entered it as you’d be needed for the duration of the rut.”
Your heart races at her (very correct) assumption.
“You’re welcome.” She hums, “Also double-check on that to make sure that everything’s in order there- and also congratulations-”
Your bitten mark throbbed.
“-I expect to see you both at the clinic for a check-up today.” From your side, Choso wraps his muscular arms around you with a whine for you to come back. “But that’s not actually what I was calling you about- I was actually checking on your availability.”
“My availability?”
“Yes, for the program.” She replies simply.
“The program? Th-the companionship program?” You breathe, “Wait- I can help another hybrid?”
And she merely hums in satisfaction, “Mhm, I’ve got another hybrid that needs your help.” And whatever Choso’s honed senses let him hear or feel—he’s sitting up on the bed and pressing his face to the crook of your neck. “Another dog hybrid- a year older than Choso, slightly smaller, golden retriever variety, same intelligent and mild demeanor.”
“Yes?” You breathe. Heart pounding already.
“His name is Ino Takuma.”
A/N. WALK ‘EM LIKE A DOG, SIS, WALK ‘EM LIKE A DOOOOOOOOOG-
Synopsis. It’s knotting season and all the hybrids are…in rut.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, HYBRIDS AU, ruts, pheromones, farmer!Shiu cameo, exhíbitíonism, Iactation, MORE bull hybrid!Toji, hibernations, FÉRAL JJK men, slight bréeding, manhandIing, spítting, chokíng, HEADLOCKS, p talking, p sIapping, tentacIes (Geto), slight pIot, arranged marriages (Sukuna), true form!Sukuna, fox hybrid!Gojo (Judy Hopps!reader x Nick!Gojo), DP, creampíes, cumpIay, marathons, REACTIONS, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. HEHEHE- Toji’s a continuation of MILKSHAKE! but can be read alone. Choso’s inspired by this tiktok by theeee gorgeous @/v4mpyrf4e on Tiktok!! Their mind, y’all, their mind >>
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Mr. Shiu’s Farm
Name: Toji Fushiguro
Age: 30’s (approx.)
Hybrid type: Bos taurus
Height: 6’2+
Weight class: 1600kg - 1800kg.
Other notes: Recently subject has found himself mated to a cow hybrid (see page 9 for full report). Currently residing on Mr. Shiu Kong’s farm alongside his mate. Currently in rut.
Shiu’s darkened eyes skim across the page, reading Dr. Shoko’s medical report for what seemed like the twentieth time in the past hour. He’s practically memorized every word and number on it by now, every footnote, every bit of neat typing that blurred into one wall of text except for—
Currently in rut.
—except for that single sentence.
The only one that the hybrid doctor had emboldened. Emphasized.
Toji Fushiguro had dragged you inside the barn the very moment his rut had hit him. The very split-second. And Shiu hadn’t seen his cute lil’ cow hybrid (alright, his favorite) in days…
So, surely, it wouldn’t hurt just to take a little peek?
Just to check up on you, of course! Just to make sure that brute of a bull hadn’t completely mauled you, of course! Seriously- what kind of farmer would Shiu even be if he didn’t care about the health of his most prized cows?
Which is why he’s standing in front of the barn doors at this very moment.
Towering and red. Furious and needy.
His ears burn as they take in the lecherous whines and squelches emanating from inside- and he’s placing one hand against the splintered doors. The other cascading down his toned front and squeezing his hot erection in an attempt to get himself to fucking calm down—
“Took ya long enough to man up.” Toji’s peeking up at the farmer through the gaps of his shaggy black bangs, scarred lips twisting up into the most sleazy smirk.
Even from here, the farmer could see the way that the bull hybrid had you on all fours. Thighs sheeny with slick and sweat, strands of golden hay sticking to your limbs, twitchin’ every time he was swabbing his bulbous red tip between your pussylips.
Toji doesn’t stop just because Shiu was watching.
In fact, the other man only rests his weight further down on your lower half and pins his pelvis against yours. Even deeper. Even harder. Making your poor, trembling self scramble forwards a few inches at the sudden increase of pressure- before Toji’s slapping two palms down on your hips and drag-drag-draaaaagging you back down onto his thick throbbing cock. Like a ragdoll.
Probin’ and probin’ inwards—in and out, in and out.
Shiu gulps as he catches a wet gush! of creamy sap leak out of your cunt - and he’s wondering whether Toji plans to stop at all.
Without any warning, Toji’s roughened fingertips come down to slam! on top of your slick-glazed folds. So tender and raw. And Shiu’s stepping forwards with his hand reached out- before he’s immediately freezing at the sound of you moaning.
“P-please-” Bucking your hips back in circular gyrations, you’re addicted to the way his puffy veins were snagging and rubbin’ against your g-spot. “Just feels so gooooood, Toji—”
“Shit…” Shiu whispers underneath his breath, eyes widening as he takes in the sight. There was a slight tinge of sweet cream and something woodsy in the air- and he’s wondering if this was what experts meant when they said hybrid pheromones made one lose their mind.
Toji glances over at the other man and scoffs—and without warning, he’s pulling out of your tight hole and flipping you over as if it was nothing. Right onto your back where he can stare at your pretty face whilst he presses his reddened cock between your legs-
Like an animal.
Rutting and rutting until Toji’s flared mushroom tip somehow bullies inside your cunt with a wettened plop! And looking from here, the size difference was just incredible- Shiu’s stepping even closer, driven crazy wondering just how such a cute, innocent-looking pussy can take such a big cock so filthily.
Without easing in, without even slowing down, Toji pumps his vein-covered shaft past your entrance and in, in, in—
“Naughty girl- heh, don’tcha know that s’rude not to greet guests?” He’s angling his hips so that the circular divot right on top of his shaft scrape-scrapes down your cervix and makes you shiver. “Or are you seriously that fucked stupid, hm?”
“Wh-what are you…” Dazedly, you’re so gone that you barely even register the way that Toji grabs onto the lil’ stubs of horns atop your crown and bodily moves your head to the side.
To where Shiu was standing frozen. Erection raging in his overalls.
You gasp-
“Awww, look.” Toji snickers, cutting you off with a few more vulgar strokes. In almost no time, he’s rendered you speechless- just loooong slobberin’ smooches being pressed up against the back of your pussy. “Your beloved farmer’s here to see ya!” Holding you in place by your horns, he forces you to make eye contact with Shiu while he fucks you. No matter how much you squirm. “What a shame his pretty girlie’s too busy getting fucked dumb on my cock to even notice him…”
“Easy there, bull.” You shudder at the husky baritone of the other man finally speaking up. The scowl on his handsome face. He still has a cigarette pressed between his lips, and the smoky scent clings to him like pheromones.
“And what about it, human?” Toji sneers right back, the bell ‘round his neck jiggling just a little as he opens your legs even wider. Making slick leak out from your core with a deafening splosh! and glisten right down the bull’s abs. He’s hitting your g-spot incessantly- “Jealous m’getting to fuck this pretty pussy and you can only watch?”
“You little-”
“Or-” The hybrid casually continues, folding you positively in half- until the caps of your knees hit your chest and you can only whine at the incessant stretch of your hamstrings. “-are ya jealous that I get to pump her so full of my cum that she doesn’t even remember your name?”
Shiu spits out his cigarette and stomps it out- fuck, he’s never been harder. “Don’t make me-”
But Toji only claws a hand upwards and squeezes your right tit, making a line of creamy milk dribble out from your swollen nipples. Which he’s leaning down to suckle on while looking Shiu right in the eyes, “Or s’it that you’re jealous she milks so much for me and nothing for you? Jealous that when I fuck her full of my calves she’ll be making even more?” You’re yelping as he bites dooooown on that sensitive nub, smirk palpable on his handsome face. “Jealous that they won’t be your kids?”
“I’ve had enough of this!” Face burning, Shiu’s making to turn around- fuck. And maybe run off to the nearest private corner he can find just so that he can jerk off—
“But I bet it turns you on, too.”
He pales, facing Toji once more. “Wh-what did you just say?”
But the bull hybrid merely graces him with a smug smile as he’s pulling out of your sloppy cunt once more- and oh, was it such a sight to see the way you were yowling and clawing onto Toji’s toned hips in an attempt to get his thick cock to fill you up once more.
He doesn’t listen to a single plea, yet jerks his head towards you cockily.
And the farmer- oh, he might just be the worst of the bunch. Because he doesn’t listen to a single rational thought in his brain telling him to simply leave—not before he’s taking step- by jerky step- towards your two sweaty bodies. As if hypnotized.
Shiu’s knees barely even hit the ground in front of you before Toji’s clasping onto the blushin’ back of his head and shoving the other man’s face between your legs.
Nose-deep.
And he’s shocked- he’s letting his eyes snap open- he’s letting just a singular wad of your candied slick end up on his tastebuds and he’s fucking addicted. Just darting his slick tongue all over just to gulp and gulp up your heady taste.
The prominent line of his nosebridge shoves directly between your swollen, sensitive pussylips and you gasp—“O-oh my god, Shiu you’re really-” Before those gasps turn into pants by the time that Shiu’s grabbing onto either side of your thighs and pulling you deeper onto his face. He hangs open his greedy mouth and engulfs your pussy whole, long tongue startin’ to slither inside-
“Ah ah- has your momma never taught you to share?” Toji’s rudely nudging the other man over and slotting himself between your legs as well. Dipping his even lengthier tongue out to just slide-slide-sliiiide around your wet outer pussy, “Should know that m’doing you a favor.”
“Sh-shut the fuck up-” Shiu didn’t even want to breathe let alone talk to this bull bastard. Fishing the tip of his tongue in and out of your quivering hole - fuck, he has half the mind to giggle at the way you clenched oh-so-cutely around him - while Toji drags your throbbing clit over to suck.
His scarred lips mercilessly pinch your nub, making you writhe and moan. “Oh, get over yourself. One taste and you’re in liplock-”
“I hear you slurring on her pussy as well.” The farmer grumbles out.
And your mate, Toji, is just about to open his mouth to snap back as well- when you clasp both their perspired scalps and press both of them to your treacly pussy. “Sh-shut the fuck up!” They snap their bleary, pussydrunken eyes to you at the sound of your trilling voice. “Can the both of you just focus on- ngh…this instead of arguing?”
And then they look at each other.
“You heard the missus.”
“Anything you say, girlie.”
And it’s the only warning you get before they’re both delving right back in between your puffy pussylips and lavishing you with both tongues- just the most sensual sensation.
Those ridged textures slipping and sliding over your pussy and deeeeep inside, they thrash against each other and fight for claim over your wet pussy. They fork out your entrance - both at the same time - and Toji moves over to press on your clit while Shiu tries to fuck you with his tastebuds. They lap over each other and makes Toji moan into Shiu’s mouth as well as your cunt—
Well…Shiu thinks, as Toji starts fingering your slippery hole open now with two of his rude digits, murmuring something about ‘two at once’.
.
.
.
Later - much, much, much later - it’s Kusakabe that calls Shiu’s bull and cow hybrid farm after a few days without hearing from his friend.
“What—that damned bull hybrid giving you trouble again?” The man asks, chortling into the speaker at the other farmer’s pointed silence. “Or is it your pretty cow hybrid? The one you favor so much?”
“Well…” Shiu starts, about to head into the barn once more- he could hear your pretty moans start up already, and he’d be damned if he let that bull have one over him. “You could say they’re giving me more than just trouble…”
What was that saying again?
If you can’t beat ‘em…join ‘em.
♡ NANAMI KENTO - HibernATE.
Name: Nanami Kento
Age: 27
Hybrid type: Ursus arctos horribilis
Height: 7’6+
Weight class: 1000kg+
Other notes: Mated specimen (to a human, for more see…) is currently in the process of hibernation, though stands to be on the brink of waking up soon. It is speculated that due to his age, size, and rut cycle that the specimen will be rather famished after his arousal. Quite, quite famished.
It’d started off as a little rumble in your living room, a little quake.
You’d been lazily browsing some magazine, barely even registering the words that seemed to slug across the page. They muddled up in your mind and took on the form of Nanami Kento - the days were too long with your hybrid husband in hibernation.
Given, it wasn’t that he’d completely disappeared into a deep sleep; hibernation was a period for Nanami to slow his metabolism, to lower his body temperature, to snooze most of the day away.
He wasn’t here to spoil you with breakfast in bed like he usually would, nor was he here to kiss you goodnight, to read to you with his deep tone, to have a hand on your back whenever you were out in public, to fuck you right—
You’re squeezing your thighs together with a slight squirm, “F-fuck…” Setting aside the magazine that was now the furthest thing on your mind. “God, how I miss-”
And then you’re catching the slight movements in your living room.
It started off subtle- the glass of water atop your coffee table was tremoring, the carpet spread out on the floor seemed to be moving. You’re frantically looking around and realizing that the couch you were seated upon was slightly jumping.
Something seemed to be thud-thud-thudding closer—
“My love.”
It’s a thick, husky tone enough to make every hair upon your body stand on end.
You almost don’t recognize whose voice it is - simply that ruined. You almost start to feel fear creeping down your spine. You almost don’t want to turn around-
“My love, I think m’in rut.”
Less than a few minutes later and you find yourself on the fucking floor beside the couch - your back against the carpet, your legs strung high in the air. Your calves thrown easily over Nanami’s shoulders as the shoves your wet panties to the side and bullies himself in—
No preparation. No foreplay.
Just pure fucking need.
Your thrash against his hovering body and find yourself absolutely, needily helpless-
“O-oh, fuck.” And you never thought you’d see the day where you hear Nanami fucking Kento’s voice crack…Lips quivering as they drop open, eyes damn near bulging out of his skull- he feels his thickened tip lodge at your hot entrance and gasps. “Fuh-fuck, it needs to go in- oh, fuck.”
A single inch inside and he’s spurting out wettened wads of cum- already! It makes the process slightly easier, with the thick glaze of his sap easing up your entrance.
“You’ve already- oh, ngh.” Just for the words to be fucked out of your lungs. You’re almost stupid on his cock already, feeling your tastebuds sizzle with saliva at the incredible stretch. “You must be sensitive. It’s already going in, Kento-”
“It needs to-”
“But-”
“It needs to go in, it needs to go in, it needs to go in.” But it’s the only thing he can repeat, like a mantra. Like the only sentence his dazed mind knows right now.
You clench and his bear-like ears flinch- making him claw onto your body even further as he plants a rude half-thrust.
“P-please—” Body hunching into yours. Blond happy trail scratching your clit. A slick line of drool cascades down one corner of Nanami’s lips, long lashes fluttering as he’s starin’ down at your core. “Need it to go in- want it- have to-”
“Have to?” You gasp.
“Have to.” He’s groaning, eyes wild and widened as he’s pumping out half-ruts here and there and stuffing himself deeper by the minute. And at one point Nanami’s tilting his head and gnawing down on the tender side of your neck, “N-need to…”
You’re sure it almost looks like you’ve been thrown to the bears - literally.
He’s not even halfway inside but you swear it feels like he’s opening up various crevices and hidden spots inside you that you never even knew you had—fuck, had he grown larger since before the hibernation? “You’re- hck! Kento, you’re acting like such an-” And the way you say his name makes Nanami’s pupils dilate even further, until there was almost no honey-brown within his eyes. “-a-animal…”
“Am- n-need it to go inside- s’not worth it if I can’t feel myself at your- throat-” Could barely even string together three words to make a sentence. Could barely even breathe if he wasn’t fully inside you. Nanami’s rude tip bulges its way deeeep inside of you, and you can feel him throb-throbbing away at your very lungs. “Don’t let me down, pussy.”
Your eyes widen, “Y-you’re talking to…”
“Don’t tell me you can’t take it all- oh.” His hoarse baritone quivers at the mere thought, “That would just b-break me-”
Back arching into the perfect curvature against the carpeted floor, Nanami’s reeling his toned hips back and just plunging—feeling your body start to squirm away, and one of his paws come up to clasp your neck and draaag you right back down his cock. And he’s never sounded more serious in his entire life, “Don’t. Move.”
“Y-yes, Kento.” You could feel your cunt throb even harder at his words. You recall his words from just earlier. “Think you might just break me first.”
And what you didn’t expect was for that mere answer to make the blond man’s lips quirk up into a smile, for him to scoff out a chuckle. Something looks feral in his gaze, “Yes and?”
Fuck- your gentleman of a husband was never like this.
Usually, he took his sweet time with foreplay. He’d stretch that tight orifice of yours oooooout with his fingers. He’d tease your entrance all tender and ready to take his massive cock- but right now he was pinning apart your thighs with both of his hands and ramming his entire veiny length in.
But now he’d awoken from hibernation and he wanted you—badly.
And he was just so strong - expected, for a bear hybrid - that you were absolutely no match for the way that Nanami choked his hand ‘round your throat and manhandled you down to meet his length. To meet every thrust.
He’d slam his thick girth all the way until your poor, elastic hole was stretched thoroughly around his girth and could take it no more. Letting his cum splosh! around a little before drag-drag-draaaagging his veiny length all the way back out and inching back in again, puffing apart your innards to his swollen length- you start to claw at his muscular forearm and Nanami’s tightening his hold with a growl. “Oh my- please, Kento—”
“Inside-” He snarls, his pure need making his bass sound even more rugged than usual. And every time he speaks, Nanami punctuates it with a ruthless stroke deep inside, “Was thinking about you- all day- All night. All the time. Missed the feeling of this tight hole begging me to fuck her, and when I woke up I was just feeling s-so…” It’s then that the bear hybrid slowly looks down at your pussy, all engorged open with his incredible length. He gulps back saliva, “-hungry.”
And as if it wasn’t enough to have you at his complete and utter mercy, he was now smacking one hand down on your clit and brushin’ his thick thumb down that favorite nub of yours. “Couldn’t stop thinking of her. Couldn’t stop wanting to be inside her. Couldn’t wait to fuck her all full and make her carry my cubs- bet you misssed me, ngh, inside-” He hiccups, “Will this finally make it go inside- Inside, inside- inside.”
You’re bawling your throat hoarse, seeing stars burst behind your closed eyelids. And you distantly feel Nanami lean his head down and lick away the salty tears rolling down your cheeks- his rough tongue utterly parched.
“It’s- it’s already inside-” You gasp at some point, straining your throat to get the words out. Just so full with his thick, throbbing shaft speared inside of you- now, Nanami’s simplest movements left him hammering at your cervix. “Kento s’already inside-”
“Oh?” As if he hadn’t even realized, simply way too gone on you. He looks down at the sinful sight between your legs - your cunt all stuffed and quivering as you struggle to take him - knot awaiting at his base.
Something that you already know doesn’t bode well for you.
He looks at you intensely, “I’ve just come out from hibernation and next- o-oh, y’know what comes next for bears, right, my love?”
You could barely even think right now, “What?”
“Breeding season.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Eight inches hands
Name: Geto Suguru
Age: 28
Hybrid type: Octopus vulgaris
Height: 6’2+
Weight class: Undetermined.
Other notes: Whilst the breeding habits of this particular type of marine hybrid has remained a mystery for quite some time, it seems that this specimen is overtly eager to receive his mate in this state of rut. Faintly sweet pheromones. Strong tentacles (may perhaps take to use them during breeding with human mate, see page…)
“Eight inches—” Geto’s drawling out in his sing-song voice, letting pure lust seep into his words and leave them all hot and heavy against the column of your throat.
He pumps his puckered tip against your g-spot and snickers, “Eight inches here-” And then once more against the door to your womb, “Eight inches there—” Before he’s biting down on the side of your neck and rutting up into you so hard that you swear you can feel him there. “Eight inches heeeeere-”
It’s enough to leave you shivering in this filthy full nelson that he had you in.
To leave your heart racing at the sound of his mean tone, cunt clenching as if you’ve just been shocked with countless volts of electricity. And of course Geto Suguru notices.
Of course he’s arching a singular brow at the sensation of your clingy walls, of course he’s slowing his hips down to look at you with an expression of mocking surprise. “Oho?” He pants out, nose crinkling at the bridge as he tries to keep his words composed. “What’s that? Are eight inches not enough for you, gorgeous?”
And to emphasize his point a little more, his thiiiick shaft is plunging so deep between your pussylips that you see the pale skin ‘round Geto’s pelvis burn bright red. You were just coming down from your nth high of the night, and even the slightest brushes against your throbbing nerve spots left you keening. His creamy tip swirlin’ the back of your cervix and making it feel like he was right at your throat—
Your eyes snap open in pure shock, breath catching in your throat as you realize just what he’s hinting at. “No! No it’s not-”
“No?” A thrill was snaking down your body- and so were a few of Geto’s looooong, flexible tentacles. They were a shimmering shade slightly lighter than his hair, with slimy tips that wrapped around both of your ankles and wrenched you open.
That was one and two. Three, four, and five slide all down the your quiverin’ sides- a sixth one of his tentacles slide-slide-sliiiiiding up to flick your throbbing clit in punishment. “So no my cock isn’t enough for this slutty pussy?”
“I didn’t mean that-”
Silenced immediately by one of his slimy tentacles spankin’ down on your pussylips, which makes you keen with the sting. To which you hear Geto’s chuckle pant out against the side of your face- god, this full nelson was the perfect position. He could see the way his vein-covered cock was shoveling in and out, he could see everywhere his textured tentacles were gliding down, he could see those lewd expressions you were subconsciously making- “Ah well, what can I do? This pussy’s just tooooo greedy f’me, I just don’t think my poor cock can keep up…”
You’re whining at the pure pout that you could hear in his tone, “But-”
“Oh, wait.” As you’d expected, he’s cutting you off with a higher octave- as though a sudden epiphany had just dawned upon him. And his voice dips down to what’s almost a purr…“I have an idea.”
“Fuh-fuck—” Your spine arches into the perfect curvature as his slick-covered tip slips between your pussylips and starting smearin’ your cunt all open. Those tendrils of his were just so dexterous, and you’re squirming at the slimy texture of him prying apart your most tender parts.
Swirling and swirling in circular motions to tease your hole.
Just the sheer squelching sounds of it was enough to nearly drown out his husky voice, “Eight-” His words quiver as if he was on the verge of chuckling. “E-eight inches-” Punctuating that little phrase with a thorough strike at your sponged cervix, the rounded circumference of him leaving a bruise. “Eight kisses.”
You babble, “Wh-what do you mean eight ki—oh!” Your question’s immediately being answered by a rhythmic thud-thud-thud at the very back of your cunt.
They’re just so distinct. Mentally, you count about-
“Eight- eight, see?” Geto’s humming out, his Adam’s apple bobbing against the back of your sweaty scalp. “Eight kisses at that cute cervix. Did ya count them, gorgeous?” And you notice that he sounds even more breathy than before, you notice that the air’s sweeter- as if Geto was losing his grip on reality with every slight slip n’ slide of his tentacles rovering in past your cunt.
“I-I…” Your mouth waters, spittle drivelling down either side of your lips.
Seeing this cute expression on your face, he chortles- hell, he cranes his head down to lick at the glittery sap on your face. “Heh- of course ya didn’t count. Too fucked dumb, are ya?” He was just making fun of you, and he was fucking you like he hated you. “But that was eight—whoops!” Another dull skid of his rotund tip leaves you gasping, “Nine now.”
“Oh, please-” Babbling away stupidly- you were feeling pleasure from so many different points that you didn’t even know what to do with yourself. “That’s just not fair.”
“Wait till ya learn about what’s not fair, heh.”
And before you can stupidly say anything more, Geto has all his slithering tentacles cascading down your body. Two still wrenching your jittery legs open no matter how much you kick and thrash, two more holding onto your thighs, two more wrapping around your tits and twiddlin’ with your hardened nipples, and-
“Eight tentacles.” The hybrid rasps out, and at that very moment you’re feeling the final two of his tentacles plunge straight between your pussylips.
Rutting. Squeezing. Bullying and bullying their honed tips inside and fucking you at a rapidfire pace that matches his hips- “Eight inches. Eight kisses—” A few more bashes at your cervix that leaves you dumbfounded, “Eight tentacles, heh- ya really do have such a fuckin’ spoiled pussy, gorgeous. She just keeps wanting me stuffed all deeeep and haaaaard and kissin’ that cute cervix. She can’t get enough of me so she keeps suckin’ me in for more.”
“Oh- oh, please.” You struggle to stare down at where he was positively ruining your pussy from underneath, the curvin’ lines of his tentacles sticking in and out of you at a blurring pace. Starting off slooooow at the tips that wriggle their way inside- before he’s suddenly shoving most of his prolonged lengths in and repeating the sultry motions. “It just feels so good, is that really only two tentacles?”
“Yes—why?”
“It just f-feels like more-”
“More?” And you instantly know where you’ve made a mistake- Geto’s voice was breathy with excitement. “You want more, gorgeous?”
“That’s not what I…” You’re simply so stunned that you don’t know what to say. Simply so fucked stupid that before you can even think up a response, Geto has two of his tentacles probin’ apart your pussylips—and a third one lifting off of your hips to veer downwards and suction on your clit.
So hard that you’re seeing complete stars—
“Aaaaand look at that-” Geto sighs, “Yer cumming already, gorgeous. Look what happens when you ask for more.”
Begging, you’re tearing up with the sheer intensity of your orgasm. “Mmm, please-”
“Mmmore?” You couldn’t believe the audacity of this hybrid- and the way he was lifting off his second tentacle from your hips. He now had two of his tendrils sliding inside your entrance, gliding and massaging against his red-hot cock.
And then two more that tugged and teeeeased your poor clit to no end, setting two of his suction cups on top to give you lil’ sparks of your high. They were rolling over circles. Rolling over hearts. Matching the ministrations on your tits.
Geto made you jolt with even the lightest touches that to your overstimulated body really didn’t feel light. “Seriously- am I the one in rut or are you the one in heat?”
“Maybe both?” You dazedly ask, “I don’t even- hck! know-”
“Can’t think, can you? S’my cock leaving you speechless? My tentacles making you all stupid?” He tuts, almost sympathetic - though you knew that in reality it was far from that. “You wanted to be fucked so baaaaadly by me and now you’re getting it, aren’t ya?” At your gurgling mess of responses, “S’alright, gorgeous, I just need to know your answer to this one question.”
Yet another one of his slimy tendrils lifts off of your body - this time from your tits - to manhandle your head to the side to face him. “Yes- fuck!”
“Clean that mouth out before you speak t’me.”
Before you know it, the tentacle wrapped around your neck slips its slimy tip into your mouth and dangles it wiiiide open for him to spit inside. “There- all better. And now would ya like to hear what my question is?”
And obviously that’s going to pique your interest, even with the pistoning sensation from all angles driving your pussy wild. “And th-that is?”
“What do you think about eight kids?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - HOTEL FUCK-SYLVANIA
Name: Choso Kamo
Age: ??
Hybrid type: Desmodus rotundus
Height: 6’4+
Weight class: 80kg - 90kg.
Other notes: Subject is mated, interestingly it seems that this particular vampire bat hybrid has the ability to replace his appetite for blood with other bodily fluids. Particularly in relation to the bat’s mate, it seems that this ability takes effect twofold during times of rut.
“Don’t take this the wrong way…” Utahime asks, and by the worried expression on her face you know she means well. It’s only when you nod your head in a gesture for her to continue does she finish her sentence- “-but isn’t it, like, scary being with a vampire bat?”
You tilt your head in confusion, “What do you mean?”
To which the purple-haired girl looks around the bustling café the two of you were in before continuing with her impromptu interrogation, “Aren’t you scared you’ll wake up one day and he’ll be drinking your blood or something? I don’t know, I’m just a little worried…”
“Choso would never do that.” You’re crinkling your nose in amused distaste, even the thought of your lovely boyfriend doing such a thing is enough to make you want to laugh out loud.
“But how does he fulfill his cravings, though?” She swirls around her drink a little, as if expecting it to turn into said crimson liquid any moment now. “Because I read somewhere that their cravings are quite strong, especially during a…”
“Rut.” You finish for her, “And yeah, I suppose they are- but Choso always satiates his cravings with something else.”
“With what?”
“Um, alternatives.”
“What alternatives?”
Well…
.
.
.
“P-please…” Choso groans, voice trembling at the back of his throat. And the sounds he’s making right between your legs are plain sinful- they almost make you shy to hear.
Just squelch after solid squelch! being wrung out of your sloppy cunt any time he’s pumping his tongue between your folds. Pistoning in and out, in and out, in and out at a feverish pace.
And he’s not shy about getting it all filthy with your clingy wads of sap. Letting his ridged tastebuds swirl all ‘round your tender channel a few times, fishing around for those sweet wads of white before gulping them down. Choso was kneeled at your feet and practically worshipping your pussy with his mouth—
“Th-think that’s all there is, baby-” Gasping, your hands claw atop your boyfriend’s scalp. With a feeble push, you’re trying to get his spit-slicked mouth to detach from your cunt. “I think m’done-”
“But I’m not done.” Choso stubbornly says. And even from here you can see the way his pinkish, swollen lips wobble out of pure frustration where they were sucking on your clit- moved past lickin’ up your sweet, sweet juices to toy with your pussy.
And as if on cue, you swear you could hear the rumble of his hungry stomach—bat hybrids always did get extra famished during ruts, the doctor had told you.
She’d also warned you that Choso might just suck your pussy dry if given the chance - and that seemed to be exactly what he was hellbent on doing. With his puckered lips spreading even wider open and pokin’ his tongue away into your hole, he’s slurping up any and every remnant of his own cum from mere minutes ago.
Your slick glazes all down his chin, creating a shimmery effect that made him look completely gone. “Look- look at her.” Eyes wide, completely crazed. “M’just starving for your pussy, baby—dying. I could eat her out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and it still wouldn’t be enough.”
Arching your cunt against his face with a whine, “S-so you’re just never gonna be full, Choso?”
“Hmmmm…” He pretends to think - or, at least, you think he’s pretending to. But with how utterly ruined he was from your honeyed sap left you wondering whether Choso Kamo was actually serious about brainstorming the answer- taking a single lick at your folds and nodding. “Yeah- never gonna be full, baby.”
“You seriously needed to taste me to get your- hck! answer-” You’re panting, sheer disbelief in your tone. “You can’t be serious, Cho-”
“Dead. Fucking. Serious.”
And then he’s wriggling his crowned muscle back between your pussylips and makes you cry out, “Oh p-please—” Two doughy pads of his fingers pryin’ aside your folds to help him get to where he wanted to taste the most.
Now he’s fingering you as well as makin’ out hotly with your pussy. Just the cushy edges of his digits searching for your sweetest spots, “S’the sweetest dessert I’ve ever tasted- the most delicious fuckin’ thing. Tastes so good. Tastes so fuckin’ good.” He murmurs wetly between your lips, long lashes fluttering as your velvety walls clench ‘round his tongue. “Always so good f’me trying to suck m-my tongue back in- never met a dessert that wanted to be eaten so badly.”
“Choso!” You’re gasping, “I’ve never heard you speak like this-”
“I’ve never been this hungry.”
But he wasn’t just hungry right now - he was absolutely starving, and eating you out like just so.
Almost experimentally, you’re pushing on Choso’s sweaty scalp and watching as he scrambles to grab onto either side of your thighs and crush himself nose-deep between your folds. “No- no no no no- don’t even joke like that, baby.” All serious. His two fanged canines peek out from underneath his upper lip, and it makes you shudder. His bat-like wings flapping behind him- “Not yet. Please not yet. You can’t seriously expect me to remove myself from your p-pussy when she’s creaming down my tongue like this—?”
“Well, I was just thinking…” You mumble, “Wouldn’t it satiate your thirst more if-”
He nips at your clit with his canines, “More if?”
“If you filled me up again, Cho?”
And then he’s peering up at you with those deep, dark irises of his - giving absolutely away in his expression. Mouth stalled. Spit drivelling. Throat bobbing with a singular gulp—
Before Choso’s on you in an instant- hands at your throat and pinning you down onto the bed, meaty thighs pushing your own apart and letting him lodge his red-hot cockhead-
“F-fuck-” Just a singular smooch at your precious cunt and Choso’s already throwing his head back in ecstasy. Back arching. His wings bolting out straight. He can’t stop himself from dribbling out in pearly beads of white that cling n’ drip down the front of your cunt, smearing it all in a glossy white shade. “Fuck- oh my god-”
“You’ve cum already?” You’re marvelling at the sticky warmth that fills you up from the inside, splatterin’ the bed around you.
Something that Choso quickly takes care of by roverin’ his greedy fingertips down and pressing them inside—in and in and in. In sinful synchronization with the constant thwacks! of his heavy base against your puffy folds, just fucking those webs of seed even deeper.
His fingers are stretchin’ aside your tight orifice and somehow managing to squeeze in—your eyes damn near bulge out of your skull at the sheer stretch of him fitting in something else. Something you hadn’t even noticed until now - the prominent knot at his base- “Mhm, told you m’ravenous for ya.” It’s a rounded ring of flesh that bullies into your entrance, shutting it tight. “S’like a never-ending feast, I get to eat your pussy out until she doesn’t know what it feels like n-not to have my mouth on her.”
You’re gasping at the feeling of him plugging your hole - feeling that lump at your very throat. “B-but how can you eat me out when you’ve got your knot in for now? Not to mention just how deep you’re fucking your cum in…”
“Ah, no worries, baby~” Choso hums, and his cock twitches inside of you. “It’s more fun that way.”
.
.
.
The next time you’re meeting up with Utahime at your usual lil’ café it’s with Choso in tow.
Hand-in-hand.
Shoulders brushing shoulders in your booth.
Positively glowing after his last satiated rut.
You’d say that the meeting went quite smoothly, to be quite honest. Utahime had gotten over her initial trepidation over his hybrid species, and the conversation was flowing smoothly.
So smoothly, in fact, that at one point in some dramatic recounting of her last mission- Utahime’s hitting her fork off of the table top. Brushing aside your motions to pick it up, she herself ducks under the table to get that traitorous silver utensil.
Still continuing with her story, “—and then my dear Shoko came up to me and said-”
From above, both you and Choso look at each other in confusion as your friend abruptly stops in the middle of her story.
From below, Utahime felt the soul escape her body the second she accidentally caught a glimpse of your legs, of the short skirt that covered none of the…rabid bite marks littered all across your thighs. She didn’t even have to look too hard to see the way that inched up the inner parts of your legs, closer and closer to…
When she finally resurfaces, the two of you notice that she seemed rather…pale.
You start, “Is everything alri-”
“I think I just figured out what you meant by ‘alternatives’.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Fire-BENDER!
Name: Ryomen Sukuna
Age: Don’t ask.
Hybrid type: Genitive draconis
Height: 9’7+
Weight class: 10000kg - ??
Other notes: It is quite rare to come across a dragon hybrid specimen, and this particular one is an exceptional example of the male dragon. Approaching rut it seems that horns have grown larger, wings have grown stronger, and overall body composition has become much more imposing - all likely in the hopes of seducing his mate, the human (further research see page…)
It must be noted that this particular subject is rather temperamental, and this attitude may pass over to the hormone-fueled rut, as well.
You were arranged to be married to Ryomen Sukuna.
It was not a deal that you had a hand in making, nor one that you had the right to reject.
It was the union between two clans, the marriage between human and myth, the collision of two worlds once thought to be forever separated. And thanks to the ingeniousness of your clan’s elders, it seems that those power-fueled daydreams are now becoming a reality.
And there you were, the scapegoat of it all.
They didn’t care whether you were killed by the infamous King of Hybrids - that had no matter to them, they’d still have the fame of being the first in hundreds of thousands of years to successfully barter a marriage between human and dragon.
Which might have been why no one showed up to your wedding day.
It was quite the solemn affair, if you do say so yourself. Decent, perhaps, at best. The stiff routine of pledges to one another that should have been romantic passed by you in a blur, until ultimately you were bowing to the pink-haired hybrid before you and realized that you were bowing to your husband. To each other. Husband and wife.
Until you found yourself steeped in the most important tradition of all—the wedding night.
You sat on the farthest corner of a bed far grander than king-sized - fit for a dragon, you supposed. And as you waited for your new husband to do something - anything - you contemplated just what that hulking figure of his might mean for you in bed-
“Before we do anything, should you so wish-” He gruffs out, turned away from you so you didn’t have to see his expression. Though, you could make out the faint dusting of pink at the very tip-tops of his ears, “-you should know something.”
“Yes, anything.” You answer, brows furrowing.
“I’m in rut.”
It comes out so matter-of-fact, and you find yourself speechless for a few seconds.
A few seconds in which Sukuna finds himself exhaling, “Look- I understand if you don’t wish to consummate our marriage tonight, I won’t take fuckin’ offense if-”
“Apologies for interrupting-” Though you didn’t feel a speck of remorse, “-but I was actually about to say that I’m glad for the fact.”
He turns to you with hungry eyes.
You’re taken right then and there on the edge of the expansive bed, the velvety sheets drenched in all your sappy juices. Sukuna smacks! down both his plush, reddened tips between your pussylips (dragon hybrids had two, it seemed) and grins at the way your cunt tries to sluuuurp him up- “Are you sure yer a human, brat?” He’s asking for the nth time this past hour.
“F-for the last time-” You gasp, eyes shuttering shut at the teasin’ feeling of his matching cockheads gliding all down your quivering orifice. “-I-I am—fuck.”
Only for your mouth to fall into such a sultry oh! of pleasure, eyes rolling all the way to the back of your skull once Sukuna engulfs one of his tips inside of your cunt. That curve at the end of his shaft was just delicious, opening up your dewy wet entrance in ways you didn’t even know were possible. Stretchin’ out that adorable hole of yours so wiiiiidely around the dragon’s cockhead that you swear you’re seeing stars—
“And yer soooo fucking sure?” Sukuna scoffs, crimson eyes rolling. “How m’I supposed to know that’s not just that pussy talking, huh, mama?”
Before you can bite out a response, his slick-glazed tip was raaaapidly pumping in and out of your core. Not even waiting for you to get used to the sheer primal stretch, not even waiting for himself to get used to the suctioning sensation of your soaked walls.
Sukuna’s using one tattooed hand of his to hold onto your pretty throat and smack! you back down onto his honed v-line. The ridges of his muscles against your thighs driving you absolutely wild, “Because there’s no way- fuck, takin’ me so well like this…” His bleary eyes lock down at the spread-apart lips of your cunt, the way you spurted out just a bit of gloss with each ram. “You’ve gotta be some type of- of pussy hybrid, or something-”
“P-pussy hybrid?” You gape, and for a moment you’re not sure if you heard him correctly with the way that Sukuna was shovelling his achin’ erection into you so hard that you eardrums pop!
“Mhmmm—” He’s confirming, a primal waver in his voice. You can only watch as the King cups the second of his stacked cocks- whilst one was rudely plummeting in and out of your cunt, the other was being guided by him to knock against your cute asshole. “Tell me the truth, brat- are ya seriously just some fuh-fuck- sort of hybrid sent to ruin me? Maybe a succubus?”
“I’m not a- ngh.” But you’re being cut off by the feeling of his incredible second girth kissin’ your other hole. Just barely stretching out the outer rim before pulling back as if nothing had happened.
“I’ll give those cute holes of yours what you want if you give me the- ngh, truth.”
“But I am, I am!” You’re crying out, your spine arching against the soft mattress as he starts striking at your cervix rhythmically. As if he was trying to fuck the answer out of you. As if he was trying to plug up your shattered throat with all his gluey wads of pre.
You reach your hands out to claw at Sukuna’s sculptured deltoids and he groans, “Mhmmmm—that can’t be.” He’s looking down at you seriously, a pink-colored brow raising with a scoff. “How else are ya gonna explain how this is the s-strongest fucking rut of my entire life?”
“I can’t-”
“And what about the way I just can’t- stop- fucking you-” Two of his roughened palms hold onto your waist tight and fill up your geysering orifice, pressing you down onto the plush mattress as he drills into you.
The pistoning of his hips was rude on your cunt- but utterly teasing against your backside. Simply stretching on your hole with his flared tip, “The way I can’t stop listening to wh-whatever this pussy wants- fuck, and the king never bows to anyone.” Sukuna scowls, entire face furrowing into an expression you couldn’t differentiate between fury and ecstasy. “The way I can’t stop fucking you- fuck. The way I know m’gonna me dreaming of this pussy tonight and the night after, and the night after. The way—” He puffs out a heaving breath, smoke curdling out of him. “-the way I think m’gonna fucking die if I stopped fucking her- you’ve got me hypnotized. You’ve got me addicted. You must be some- some succubus hybrid. Some pussy hybrid-”
“I’m just human.” You’re blatantly replying, and you squeeze your slurping walls in emphasis-
Only for that single act to nearly break Ryomen Sukuna.
He damn near collapses on top of you, with his sweaty forehead pressed into the crook of your neck. “Y-you lie.”
“I do not-”
“How else are ya gonna explain how I c-can’t even-” Even as he says it, Sukuna’s scaly wings flinch and flutter open. The feeling of your cunt clamping down on him was just too fucking good- “-control my fucking pheromones anymore?”
As the saturation of spiced wine grows stronger in the air, your lungs attempt to gulp the addictive scent down. “M’seriously just a human-”
“And you’re trying to tell me that the King of Hybrids has fallen before a mere human?”
You open your mouth to answer—but your new husband’s merely shutting you up with a vulgar few pumps that leave you gasping for air. Your eyes shuttering as he thrusts you into a high in absolutely no time.
One you didn’t even expect.
One you didn’t even know was coming.
One so strong that it makes his crimson wings snap! open and tremble sensitively at the squeezing of your cunt.
The white-hot pleasure rips through your body and leaves you whining, mouth falling agape. “Oh- oh my god, you’re such a—” Without warning, you clamor a hold onto Sukuna’s red horns- gripping onto it for dear life as the orgasm bubbles in your veins. “-fuck, keep going, Kuna.”
“As you wish, ma’am.”
And you don’t know who’s more surprised by the response that falls out of Sukuna’s mouth - your or him.
But almost as if to make you forget just what he’d said, he’s roverin’ his puckered tip down the side of your walls- easily locating your g-spot and ruuuuubbing down that particular area with his veiny shaft. “Y-your ears did not hear that.” He rasps out, something seething in his tone. And before you know it, his second dribblin’ tip eases its way through your second hole - both swollen cocks massaging your channels in one go. So big that you could almost feel them rub against one another- “If I g-give you both, you did not hear a thing, brat.”
Still trembling from your last high, you mime zipping your lips shut. “Didn’t hear a thing.”
“That’s my wife—”
.
.
.
After your honeymoon was over - a trip through the serene countryside, as organized by Sukuna who willed that a proper honeymoon was only befitting for a marriage that had been less than planned from your end - you were met with a surprise once you arrived back home to the Sukuna Estate.
Your attendants had informed you that you had guests waiting in the meeting hall. And who you might have assumed to be your friends, or perhaps your parents, had been none other than…your clan’s council.
Here to check whether the King of Hybrids had left you alive until now, you presume. Though not out of concern for your health.
They glanced over you and straightened immediately at the sight of Sukuna following just behind.
And while you hear your husband’s tail swish in annoyance behind you, you’re raising your hand to him as a gesture that you could handle it. Because, of course, you could handle it.
“My dear-” You’re starting off, barely looking in the direction of the elderly men seated in the room before you. “-would you mind letting the house staff know to prepare some tea for our ah- guests?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
How you relished in the look on their faces.
♡ INO TAKUMA - Hop to it!
Name: Ino Takuma
Age: 21
Hybrid type: Oryctolagus cuniculus domesticus
Height: 5’10+
Weight class: 75kg - 85kg.
Other notes: Unmated however seems to express interest in a companion close to him (human?) Even for a rabbit hybrid, subject seems rather…exciteable in relation to his rut. Healthy pheromones, above-average stamina, exceptional desire to breed.
“A-am I pregnant yet, pretty?” Ino somehow manages to babble through his teeth, barely even audible through the constant wrecked moans and the bubbles of spit that just keep on leaking out of his mouth.
At least…until you’re swervin’ your gummy cunt back down his length and it makes Ino throw his head back with a whine. Just the prettiest noises you’ve ever heard, it’s enough to make your pussy throb a few more times before you’re speeding up your pace down his slender hips.
Watching as the bunny hybrid below you squirms n’ whimpers with each gyration, “P-please-” He gasps out wetly through his tears, and you feel both of Ino’s hands come up to plaster upon either side of your hips. Cute nose twitching, “Please, I need to get- ngh, I don’t think it even works like that but…”
“Oh, Taku—” You’re cooing out fondly- and the mere sound of your voice was enough to make his bulbous tip empty out a few more wads of cum. “I don’t think it works like that, baby. I don’t think you can get pregnant-”
“But how do we know if we don’t try—?” He insists- and you swear his adorably bush-like tail must be quivering by now. He’s just so pussydrunk right now that logic wasn’t even an existing concept in his brain right now.
His rut had him completely stupid. Your pussy had him completely stupid.
All creamy and soaked with how many times he’s emptied his balls out into you by now.
And as if to prove his nonsensical point, Ino’s lifting you slightly - just slightly, he couldn’t possibly handle anything more - off of his achin’ hot cock. It makes your entrance leak out in the webs of Ino’s high, so much of it streaming down your inner thighs and making the man below you gulp at the display.
You certainly couldn’t forget that rabbit hybrids might cum fast—real fast, but they sure did have the stamina to last all night. Especially Ino.
Almost as if he was hypnotized, he’s reaching a hand up and thumbing along the mess that he himself had made. Pushing just a few of those creamy white dollops inside of you, mouth gaped and awestruck at the sheer amount of volume that’d been stuffed in your cunt. “S-see?” He breathily whispers, more to himself than anything. And Ino had such long, silken ears the same chestnut shade as his hair - they raise in alertness as they look between your glistening folds. “See- there’s just soooo much, sweetness, ngh- s-surely at least one drop of this s’gonna end up with me pregnant?”
“Oh, Taku—ngh.” Back arching as his hips start funnelling upwards into yours.
Providing your greedy cunt with so many inches- Ino was just the perfect thickness. Not too slender so that his flared edges hit each one of your tender spots, not too thick so that he didn’t have to wait for you to get used to the size before fucking you hard- fast-
“S-see how much I’ve filled you up?” He’s gurgling out, his nose twitching with keen interest. “See how much of my cum is dribblin’ out? I keep fucking it inside and it’s still- ngh, coming out-” Pleading with you. Begging to you. The air grows even more saturated with his sweet sunflower-like scent, “So s-surely…don’t tell me we can’t, pretty. I’ve cum inside you so much that I feel pregnant—”
You have to stifle a giggle - he was just too cute. “Baby, it won’t end up with you pregnant-” Enough to make his entirely pretty face become crestfallen, long ears drooping with sadness. Aw, it was just too cute. “-but it might just get me pregnant, if that’s what you want…”
“Y-you?”
Nodding, “So hop to it- if that’s what you want.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And it only takes a split-second for him to brighten back up like a Christmas tree - ears upright, eyes shining with interest, the reddened tip of his cock jolting once, twice, thrice—
“So it’s you that gets pregnant- it’s your pretty pussy that I get to fill up until she- hah, can’t take anymore.”
Before he’s thumpin’ it straight against the back of your womb and cumming with a wet squelch! Again. The noise rings in both your eardrums and makes Ino groan at the realization that he was filling you up again-
“Oh- oh, I’ve…” His spit-slicked lips fall open, and a blush grows even stronger on the tips of Ino’s ears. “I’ve cum again- that must be a sign of good luck, right, pretty?” Urging his hips up even higher, “A sign that you’re gonna give me the cutest son?”
You’re shivering at the sultry sensation that you don’t think you’d ever get used to, “Y-yes, baby—”
“Baby—oh.” And you could practically see his dark pupils take on the form of hearts at the very sound of you calling him that. Though- in Ino’s pussydrunken brain, it’s registering as something else entirely. Whispering, “We’re gonna have a baby- m’gonna fuck a baby into you.”
“You’re so- mmm, insatiable.” You gasp, placing each of your palms atop his pecs to balance yourself as you start roverin’ your hips back down.
And you might think that meant he would be happy about the way you start to bounce down his toned pelvis- you might that meant he would be happy to see you trying to fuck his gluey white wads even deeper. But no—Ino takes one look at the way you were bouncing out sultry figure-eights on his erection, and he’s immediately tightening his hold on your hips.
He doesn’t care if he’s leaving nail marks on your poor skin for daaaaays- “N-no, don’t do that, sweetness.” Gritting through his clenched teeth, Ino pins your hips down whilst he bucks his ravenous hips into yours. Taking control now, he pecks and glides his puckered tip against your cervix- “Like you said, I’m s’pposd to be the one fucking you pregnant- me. So let me feed this pretty cunt my cum, m’kay? She must be so tired from r-riding me by now…”
“But I like it, Taku—” You’re insisting, and yet you still let him slam his parched tip inside your every tight orifice like he was addicted to the feeling - and he was.
He couldn’t last even a single second without slide-slide-sliding along your g-spot, the curved edge of his cockhead swabbin’ into every crevice and making the ivory mess inside you splash about. His pinkish lower lip juts out in a pout, “Well you can’t do that when you’re all round n’ glowing n’ pregnant- m’kay? S’gonna tire you and the baby-”
“Oh, I see…” You can’t stop the smile from spreading across your lips.
And Ino can’t stop the way he’s fervently nodding, “S’my duty, m’kay? M’your mate now-” Before you can register a single thing, he leans over and gnaws down on the side of your neck. “-so you hafta let me do all the w-work to get you pregnant okay?”
“Yes, Taku, ngh.” Dazedly nodding, “And what do I do until then, hm?”
He thinks for just a few sultry seconds, before his ears twitch with the idea—“Pull on my ears, pretty, s’gonna make me cum even faster.”
.
.
.
And the next time that Ino’s heading to Dr. Shoko Ieri’s clinic, it’s with you hand-in-hand. And she doesn’t quite need a check-up to diagnose what that rounded belly of yours meant.
“Congratulations.” She’s droning out, and you glimpse her thin brown brows raising behind her clipboard. “You’re pregnant.”
And before you two can celebrate, she deadpans.
“You might want to sit down to hear just how many you’re pregnant with.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Cuffin’ season.
Name: Gojo Satoru
Age: 28
Hybrid type: Vulpes vulpes
Height: 6’5+
Weight class: Got offended when asked.
Other notes: Unmated subject, particularly prideful in his ability to woo though remains at odds with the object of his affections (interestingly, a rabbit hybrid—for more on the dynamic see page 2). Warned against displaying rut symptoms due to the sheer intensity.
Exceptional coat. Exceptional looks. Also note that subject is an exceptional pain in the ass.
“Felony tax evasion.”
The fox hybrid’s face drops at the words that escape your mouth- so infuriatingly handsome, he looked better when he was taken by surprise instead of insulting you.
As a new patrol officer, you’d been assigned to investigate this particular fox hybrid in Tokyo, known for swindling people out of their hard-earned money. And you’d found him, of course - you just didn’t think that he’d be so attractive.
It’d taken six minutes of him flirting with you to realize that you were a cop.
“$200 a day, 365 days a year since you were twelve- that’s two seconds, so times 20 which is $1,460,000 owed in taxes—I think.” You’re reciting those numbers off of the top of your brain, as if it was absolutely nothing. And the more you spoke the more flabbergasted the man before you looked- oh, how it made you smile. “I mean, I really am just a dumb bunny - but we are good at multiplying.”
“H-hey now-” Gojo rasps out, looking down at the cutesy police officer that he was slowly but surely learning not to underestimate. “-let’s not get too ahead of ourselves. In my defense, I’m in rut!”
“Ruts don’t make you commit tax evasion.”
“…”
…”
“You got me there.”
“And according to your tax forms, you reported- oh! Zero.” You falsely gasp, flipping through your clipboard. Before looking up at Gojo with a bat of your lashes, hands reaching for the cuffs on your belt. “Unfortunately, lying on a federal form is an offense punishable with up to five years in jail.”
“Aw, c’mon!” He seethes, “What’s a man gotta do to make a dishonest living ‘round here-” Though at your deadpan look he shuts up, “Fine- what’s something else that’ll get you to let me off easy, sweetheart?”
“Let you off easy?” You question, slightly leaning backwards.
And his eyes sweep down every corner and curve of your body, “Yeah- let me off easy.”
.
.
.
“Fuh-fuck—” Gojo’s breathing out into the crook of your neck, nostrils flaring as he drinks in the saturated scent of your pheromones - so fuckin’ sweet that he can feel his mouth start to water at the idea of simply taking a bite.
Shaking his head free of that particular day dream, he shovels his reddened cock into you with such explosive fervour. “Fuck, this is the perfect pussy. This is the perfect lil’ cunt to suck me up- ngh, are all bunnies this cute when they fuck- or s’it just you, sweetheart?” Just thud after thud! of his rotund tip.
It was the perfect curvature to leave your toes curling, and your teeth gritting at the rhythmic pleasure. You’re looking over your shoulder at the fox and struggling to keep your voice steady, “Just sh-shut up and fuck me, Toru.”
“Mmm, s’what I’m doing, silly bunny.” He rolls his eyes, knees digging even deeper into the cushion of your backseat. “And shit—” You’re clenching instinctually around him and you can feel his entire sculptured body behind you shiver- “-shit it just feels so fucking good.”
“God, I don’t know how but you’re hitting all the right spots.” You’re whimpering, feeling his glazed tip satisfy carnal itches within you that you didn’t even know you had. He was just so big that he was easily rub-rub-rubbing his swollen cockhead over your g-spot, and then thrusting right in to massage you with his prominent veins.
“Heh, you’re welcome.”
It’d taken mere seconds to drag you to your police car and bend you over in the back - mere seconds.
And mere split-seconds for Gojo to take a niiiice long look at the globes of your ass and decide he wants to give your ass cheeks a good squeeze. And decide to grab onto the fluffy tuft of your tail and pull you to him—“H-hey! Where’d you think you’re pulling-”
“Your tail, duh.” He’s unapologetically replying, “Honestly- I can’t tell if you really are just a dumb bunny or m’just fucking you dumb.”
“You’re too f-full of yourself.” You scoff.
“Too f-f-f-full of myself?” Gojo dramatically whines, quite a few octaves higher than what you actually sounded like. And as if he’s irritating you on purpose (he most definitely is) he’s tuggin’ on your sensitive tail once more and letting his cock’s hilt spank your drivelling hole. “Actually- I think it’s you who’s full of me, sweetheart.”
Your jaw drops at the sheer audacity of him, “K-keep talking and that won’t be the case any longer-”
“Oh, so I’m gonna be full of you—?” He’s cooing out, and you’re not sure whether these were the fox hybrid’s genuine pussydrunken babbles- or he was simply driving you wild. And succeeding. “You’d be the first to peg me, you slutty bunny, but I wouldn’t be ngh- opposed-”
“God, do you ever just shut up-” You’re bursting out, followed almost immediately by an elongated keen shattering from your throat. It was at that very moment that Gojo had decided to lurch his hips backwards and sloppily smooch at your throbbing g-spot, so hard that your entire body goes limp.
His fox-like ears twitch in the direction of your lecherous sounds, as if he was committing them to memory. “It seems neither you nor this pussy can…h-heh.” As if on cue, the background noise of your cunt seems to increase in volume.
And Gojo’s feeling his ruby-red tip twitch at the lecherous noise, like he couldn’t get enough of it. He’s rutting and rutting and rutting until his swollen shaft is feeling all red and raw- until he shakes with the phantom shivers of your walls clenchin’ all around him and he still wants more. “And I can’t help it- just can’t fuckin’ help it.” He’s the one falling apart on your gooey wet walls, and yet you’re the one being teased. “Just love chattin’ with this pretty pussy- you’ve got such a sweet pussy, bunny, she loves me too m-”
“Satoru, if you don’t shut up then m’banning you from this.”
“Please no, ma’am.”
“Then do it.”
He swishes his tail in excitement, “And what you want me to do is—?”
“Fuck me properl- oh!”
You didn’t have to ask him twice.
Because within mere moments, Gojo has his hand tightened around the puffy part of your tail and disrespectfully hauls you down to meet his hips. As if you were nothing but a ragdoll, he targets a few hits to your cervix that leave you bawling from both pairs of lips.
“Dangerous thing to ask a fox.”
Blinking back the tears in your eyes, “Wh-what do you-”
“Don’tcha know what you just asked, lil’ bunny?” Gojo questions, and it’s in a strangely…quieter tone of his voice. One that felt more primal. One that sent shivers down your spine.
When you’re not answering quickly enough for him, he’s slithering his second hand down to tease between your pussylips. That softened index and thumb pinching your clit until you’re seeing stars, “Don’tcha know what sly, cunning foxes do to c-cute lil’ bunnies like you?”
“Wh-what-” Even though you damn well knew- you were swerving your hips down onto his plump cockhead like you were addicted to the stretch of him in your deepest insides.
“Foxes eat bunnies like you.”
You shiver, and Gojo’s increasing the pace of his veiny shaft pummeling inside of you. He’s striking your spongy cervix one-two-three times a single second, he’s twisting his fingertips over your clit. He’s hauling you straight back down onto him using your tail—and acting as if he wasn’t just driving you maddened.
“And espeeeeecially for a fox in rut- oh, you’re just lucky I don’t wreck this pussy until she doesn’t remember anything but the feeling of my cock- ngh. M’one of the good foxes, see?” Dollops of Gojo’s saliva strike the arch of your spine- and you’re realizing with a jolt that he was drooling at the feeling of sloppily gliding his length between your pussylips. “You’re lucky I haven’t carved my name out into the back of your cervix…yet.” Dangerously, his puckered tip throbs at the very back of your pussy. “Fucking lucky I don’t shut you up by filling you up with so much of my cum that you feel it at your throat.”
“F-fuck-” You try to lurch fowards on instinct, and Gojo casually manhandles you down as though it was nothing. Hand still gripped firmly ‘round your tail-
“Don’t make me pull on those ears, too, bunny.” He’s hissing, hips growing just as slopping as his slurring was. Gojo flicks his fingers on your clit and you almost don’t hear his next few words, “Fuckin’ lucky I don’t- mmm, breed you until you hafta carry around a child with my name- hey.”
“What now-” You bite back at his sudden change of tone at the end.
“If I did knot you—” And you swear you feel the slowly-thickening hilt of his cock pulsate readily against your pussylips, “-d’you think we’d make foxes or rabbits, heh?”
“Shit, are you pussydrunk-”
Gojo fucks that shocked impression clean off of your face, feeling the slightest twinges of something sizzling at the pit of his stomach. “Just kidding—!” Muddying his mind. Making him actually think of certain possibilities as he pumped you full of milky white- “Unless…”
And then you’re both stumbling into your high.
Your taking you over in a startled flash, Gojo’s making him shake and quiver and quiver and gnaw down on the damned inside of his cheek to stop himself from gnawing down on you-
“Fuck-” The fox hybrid streams out a slew of sweears underneath his breath, blue eyes clenching as he rides out the blissful waves on your cunt. It was making his toned body shake, it was making him hold onto your cute body like a lifeline as he emptied out his swollen balls into your cunt.
You were just so damn soft around him that it felt as though you were molding to each of his sensitive twitches. Your velvety walls fluttering around him as Gojo fucks you through both of your highs, “How’s it feel- being fucked by the bad fox- hah, having him cum inside you?”
Toes curling at the white-hot pleasure of your own high, it ran through you like electricity. “So good—I feel so f-full inside.”
“Mmm, shit.” He marvels at the way that only makes his overworked divot start streaming out in even more gooey wads of cum. It fills you up until it’s overspilling, and Gojo’s blushin’ tip can only endlessly swab those gluey ribbons into your tiniest of orifices. “Fuck fuck fuck- bunny, we really might just make ngh- the cutest kids ever.”
“Please-” You gasp, your hips reaching a feverish point simply papping! down onto his. You’re turning your teary face over your shoulder to look at him, “Please- w-won’t be able to do that if you don’t knot me, Toru…”
And oh, fuck—
Gojo Satoru thinks he could’ve creamed all over again right then and there.
Gojo Satoru thinks he just does when - with a rough few thrusts - he somehow manages to sink his incredible girth inside. All the way till the hilt. All the way till the rounded swelling of his base manages to bully inside- stretching your cunt out so wiiiiiide that all you can do is let out muffled mewls.
You gasp once his knot finally plops! inside- hot and thick and throbbing inside of you. You squirm, “Fuck- fuck, s’too fucking big. I should arrest you just for this.”
“Oh yeah-” And to your surprise, Gojo simply responds by letting go of your tail (finally!) to duck a hand down onto the carpeted floor and bring up his discarded button-up. Fishing for something in his front pocket-
Your jaw drops once he shows you an official police badge.
“Gojo Satoru, undercover agent, at your service, bunny.”
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - RIDE ‘EM, COWGIRL!
Name: Higuruma Hiromi
Age: 30’s (approx.)
Hybrid type: Equus caballus
Height: 6’6+
Weight class: 900kg - 1000kg.
Other notes: Sleek coat. Intelligent. The mature type. Subject has revealed that he has not been having regular ruts, with the last one being over ten years ago and yielded with no mate. Likely obstructions of stress, hormonal imbalances, and pure chance. Symptoms of upcoming rut persist.
It must be noted that, even for a horse hybrid, the specimen is rather…well-endowed. And considering the fact that the subject’s mate is of the human type (with no prior experience in horse hybrid ruts)—further investigation must be conducted as to the procedures during the upcoming rut period.
It had started slow at first.
It had started without Higuruma even realizing.
He’d simply come back home from his law firm one day, exceptionally tired with no particular reason as to why. Somewhat feverish. Somewhat out-of-breath. It couldn’t have been the extra cases he was taking on (Higuruma had trudged through even higher workloads than this before, relatively this was a piece of cake), it couldn’t have been any illness (he visited the doctor, of course, and she’d said that there was absolutely nothing to worry about). But Higuruma had been worrying far too much that he hadn’t even had the time to flip through his medical report as thoroughly as he might have liked.
And it’s only because of you—“Hiromi, have you read through this?” Asking him in that sweet voice of yours one night. With his medical report propped open and your lips slightly parted as you swept your eyes through it.
To which he’d absent-mindedly looked up from one of his law books - Higuruma had dismissed himself from work early today, for the first time in his life. Though he was determined to get himself back in the office by tomorrow- that burning heat underneath his skin be damned. “Pardon, my angel? I don’t believe I have.”
“Well, you might want to open up another book then.” You’re grinning at his visible confusion, “A book of baby names.”
You’ve never seen the stoic man so stunned, gulping. On the verge of being ruined. “E-excuse me?”
“You’re experiencing pre-rut, Hiromi.”
It’s less than two hours later when your husband has you splayed out across his chiselled front, sweat-slicked abs moving and massaging against your back at a fervent pace as he fucked you from underneath. Such a filthy full nelson.
Your drivelling maw agape. Your legs spread wiiiide open. Your pussylips being funnelled with his thickened, throbbing inches from behind—he barely even has to try to give you particularly rough thrusts that make your mouth water.
It was the only position in which Higuruma’s absolutely massive length could fit inside you - the perks of having a horse hybrid as a husband, you guessed. And while you weren’t used to Higuruma’s entire size on a normal day, attempting to take him during his rut?
Oh, you were hopeful.
One look at his furious erection, and you knew that you won’t be making it out of this alive. He was much, much larger than usual - with his blushin’ tip almost doubling in size whenever he pumped himself viciously inside, with his girth looking almost engorged right before he was tunneling himself in. Red-hot. Veins pumping.
Higuruma was just so damn hard right now that you swear you can taste the creamy, salted-caramel flavor of his precum welling up at your throat—and you whine as he’s pulling out.
“Oh, fuck-” He’s whispering gruffly into the crook of your neck, with the edges of his canines grazing down your soft throat. Now, you knew that Higuruma wasn’t exactly the predatory type- but it still made a carnal part of you shiver to feel him leer down at your pulsating pussy. “Fuck, you don’t know how hah- how fuckin’ long I’ve wanted to fuck you like this.”
Your eyes widen, “You- you have?”
“Mhmm—not that I wouldn’t fuck you right even w-without my rut.” Murmuring- almost as if to prove his point, his rounded tip ends up lodged at your cervix with a wet thwack! “I would. I did. But with this I get to…mmmm, fill your cunt up until she remembers my name and nothing more. I get to smack at her pretty lips whenever she talks back.” Right on time, the tight curve of his ballsack ends up slamming against your treacly front. “I get to watch myself go in and out, iiiiiin and out- fuckin’ lucky that you have a horse hybrid for a husband, sugar, I get to see when exactly m’kissing that cute cervix of yours.”
“P-please-”
And one of his wide hands cascades down the front of your core, with his palm splayed out right above your womb. Higuruma was just so damn big that his thick, cylindrical cock was outlining a damn tummy bulge on top of your womb. “See- there. Mwah.”
One hit bruising your gooey pussy.
“And there again.”
Two hits.
“And again.”
Three hits.
He continues through a raspy groan, “And th-that’s not all…”
Before you can question that little sentence of his, his rude palm glides over where the globular edge of his cock was chasing your cervix. And Higuruma wastes no time squeezing his doughy palm doooown on that lil’ bump (well, not quite little…).
“-I get to fuck you like I disrespect you, my angel.”
“Oh my-” You don’t even have the words. The coherent trains of thought. With either of your feet planted flatly on the bed, you’re jerking your limbs up and attempting to move—whether back down onto him or away, you’re not quite sure. “Holy fuck, I didn’t know that you could fuck like this-”
“Ah ah-” And before you can even register it, Higuruma loops one arm ‘round your waist and draaaags you right back down onto his hilt. Feeling the scruffy trail of his hairs tickle the back of your cunt, feeling him press his bulbous tip against the back of your pussy and bruise—“-n’ just because you didn’t know doesn’t mean you can- ngh, run away.”
“I wasn’t trying to-”
“Good.” Higuruma’s cutting you off with his stern tone, striking your gooey pussy so hard that you see damn stars- “Keep it that way then.”
And then you can’t move, you can’t even squirm.
He had one hand wrapped around your body, and the other flicking at your throbbing clit. The crowned edges of your husband’s fingers tease all down your slobbery slit, squeezing between your pussylips and pinching your cute clit.
And no matter how much you’re jolting in his arms, you’re completely at his mercy.
Because not only is Higuruma ploughing into you like an utter madman, he’s holding you down to him. He’s holding you hostage on his cock that even breathing means you can feel him plunging straight into your lungs. “Isn’t it greeeeeat? You know exactly when m’getting into that womb of yours- see- see, giddy up, girl, you can see it. Heh…you’re shaking, angel.”
He’s tightening both hands on your body so that sparks of white-hot pleasure rush across your body and make you mewl—
“What did I say?” He draaaaags on your throbbing clit until you cry out, ramming faster and faster and faster. An incredible pace, three direct strikes to your g-spot and your cervix per second. “Don’t run. Simple as that.”
“B-but-” You’re reaching blindly above your head- somewhere beyond you to hold onto for dear life. But the only thing your greedy fingertips manage to grab onto are the sweat-stained locks of Higuruma’s hair. It seems even that’d grown longer during the transformation of his rut, silky and flowing. “-but then what am I even supposed to do-”
“Why, that should be obvious-” He breathes, scorching hot from somewhere behind you. “-all you have to do…”
You’re yelping as he bucks his hips just a little higher, further splaying you out helplessly on his lap. On his swollen cock. On his honed thrusts.
Higuruma furrows his dark brows as the hand restraining your restless body slides down your front and presses pointedly on your cylindrical outline. “All you have to do is wait until I can fuck this cute bump—” Making you whine on the way he massages that spot, sending pleasure bubbling twofold at your voice. “-into a bump tha’s even bigger, hm?”
“You mean-”
“Yes.”
He was going to fuck that particular spot at your channel - your womb - until he’d fucked a baby into you. A baby bump is what he meant. Perhaps it’s this realization, perhaps it’s simply the way he increases his cadence, but you’re hurtled into your high and Higuruma fucks you right through it-
Mouth agape.
Toes curling.
A kaleidoscope of tears formulating behind your eyelids as he hits each peak precisely- somehow pinpointing each tender patch of nerves with his flared tip. “Mmm—” As you keep on riding your wave of bliss on his slick-glazed length, he feels himself empty out in wadded pre. Puddled out way deeply into the back of your cervix- “-I might hafta call out of work tomorrow…”
.
.
.
The questions hit you the instant you’re stepping into the office.
Well, given that it wasn’t your office so the questions were bound to come had they not known you - but more so because of the fact that everyone here already knew you.
Higuruma Hiromi’s wife.
The boss’s wife.
They crowd around you with concerned expressions - and you couldn’t blame them. Had you not been the one to let Higuruma know of his little ah- condition, then you would have been worried as to why your workaholic husband wasn’t at work, either.
The queries are thrown at you—
“Oh my god, he’s dead-”
“He’s not dead, he’s likely sick-”
“The Higuruma Hiromi I know would be at work even on his death bed.”
“Maybe he got caught up in a really tough case-”
“Is he really okay, ma’am?”
“Calm yourselves, calm yourselves.” You’re placating your husband’s coworkers and employees with an open smile.
All you’d come here for was to drop off the letter of your husband’s temporary leave- though he’d begged and begged for you to stay. Though, to be quite honest, you think if he had his way then you wouldn’t ever be able to leave the house.
But you did - no matter how much trouble you had…walking.
You answer them, “Hiromi is alright, you could say he’s just a little bit ah- out of sorts, at the moment.” Before anyone can rush to any tragic conclusions, “He’ll just be taking a much-needed break for a few days before coming back better than ever, I promise!”
There’s a sigh of relief, before-
You think to yourself, “Oh, but he might need some considerable time off in the future.”
“Time off?” One fresh intern squeaked out amongst the burst of whispers, “I-I mean- we obviously would love for our boss to have some for himself! But what sort of time off, ma’am?”
“Ah-” You smile, “Paternity leave.”
A/N. HYBRIDSSSSSSSSSSSSS- Canva broke down like twice while making this.
Synopsis. When you came knocking at Nanami Kento’s mansion, stranded in the middle of a storm, he couldn’t turn you away just like that - could he? After all, you smelled so cold, so scared, so…delectable. And you might learn that there’s a reason they keep demons locked away in large, lonely mansions. Because didn’t you know that he’s one hell of a butler?
Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, demon butler!Nanami, Black Butler AU, plot, powers, mansions, use of ‘my lady’, slight bIood and vioIence, slightly yan!Nanami, slight angst, reincarnations, yearning, pússydrúnk Nanami, fíngering, oraI (fem rec.), spítting, chokíng, p talking, manhandIing, matíng presses, use of his demon powers, x-rays, he’s a gentleman until he breaks, rough s, running from it, creampíes, cúmpIay, soul bonding, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 15.6k
A/N. Spooky season isn’t over until I say so…
“Goddamm- oh.” The merciless hand of the storm swipes your face, and you instantly clamp your eyes and lips shut against the sting.
It was a night colder than cold, a storm crueler than cruel. Fallen instantly: it was as if someone had simply snuffed out the light of day, and plunged you into a world that hurtled on its axis. Despite the portico you stood underneath, you clutched your tattered coat tighter against the wind.
This place had been the first you’d encountered during your treacherous walk. A light. And without thinking, you’d stumbled towards it.
Perhaps a home. Perhaps shelter.
The fog thickens. Your fist raises, knock-knock-knocking against the tall, wooden door. It was decorated in intricate swirling patterns and engravings that you couldn’t make out in the darkness right now.
You wonder whether whoever was inside could even hear you over the storm. Desperately, your fist raises to knock again when-
The door opens.
And inside stands a handsome blond man.
Almost otherworldly.
“My lady.”
Your breath hitches, and you’re not entirely sure why. Perhaps it was the rich baritone of his voice, the way it pierced your ears even above the wind, wetness, and anger of the storm. Perhaps it was his classically handsome face - slicked-back hair, high cheekbones, a pert mouth that was somehow knowing - like in one of those historical paintings, a Prince Charming.
You wouldn’t have been able to pinpoint him in any century.
Or perhaps it was the way that when you stepped back, on instinct, he leaned down to loop a strong arm around your waist in a single, fluid motion. So fast that you muse he might’ve teleported.
Whoosh–!
You startle at the noise above you, and look up to find that the strange man had unfolded an umbrella over the two of you - one that you hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.
He lets the berth of it cover your frame, like the dark wings of a bat stretched taut. Uncaring of whether he himself gets wet, the man shields you against the icy billows of rain that blew through the portico. His warm grin stretches, urging. “My lady?”
“O-oh.” It registers that he was speaking to you. You’re unsure where to place your palms, and they lay flatly open against the man’s toned chest. Still. “My apologies for- for the intrusion so late. But I…”
You were getting distracted by his kind, molten eyes is what. But he finishes for you with a slight huff of amusement, “Happened to get caught in this monstrosity of a storm, am I right in guessing?” At your nod. “Well, it’s no wonder then, my lady. I’m only glad you made it here safe.”
“I-” You were right in feeling like you weren’t able to pinpoint which century he was from. Because his tone of speaking wasn’t reminiscent of any dialect you’ve ever heard before - something melodic yet stiff, something understandable yet…dated.
And despite your incessant pondering, he stands as patiently as ever. Holds you as patiently as ever.
Even though the wind ruffled that neat hair of his, and the rain pelted his sides without the cover of the umbrella. You hasten to explain yourself, “I was actually on my way from a work function, a bit far away. When this storm suddenly hit and my car broke down in the middle of it- actually, I think it ended up in some ditch with no power, which is why I ended up- well- here.” You finish, lamely.
He looks thoughtful, nodding empathetically.
“And I really do apologize for the intrusion, really, but if I could stay just until the storm blows over and I can call for help-”
“Do forgive me for interrupting you, my lady.” The man’s precise tone speaks once more, “But you may stay here as long as you like.”
Relief washes down your spine like a bucket of heat, melting you instantly. “Oh, thank you- thank you.” And before you know it, you’re falling deeper into his arms.
“A lady must not thank a mere worker.” He hums with a tut, and you wonder whether that means he was one of the staff at this large building - what little you could see of the silhouette seemed larger than a normal house, and you’d assumed that it was some hotel at first.
He steps soundlessly to help you steady yourself. And you’re soon being warmly gestured inside, the umbrella being held over your head with each step, even as he stepped aside into the rain to let you through. “Come now, we must dry you off at once. Being in the cold for this long won’t be good for your constitution, my lady.”
You step inside as he directs, and it feels like stepping into a warm bath - just right.
And what you’d seen in the distance - that yolky, blinking light that led you here, your body moving as if on instinct - wasn’t actually a lightbulb, as you’d thought. In actuality, it was about a dozen, flaring chandeliers.
Illuminating a fresco of gardens and flowers and spring. Lined along the sprawling ceiling like fruits that were overripe, fit to burst. They danced ever-so-slightly in the draught that the open door brought, yet not a single candle extinguished from what you could make out.
You felt so tiny in the house- mansion, as you were quickly coming to learn.
Greeted by an imperial staircase made of marble, and accents of gold that fought with the chandeliers over which one of them shined brighter. You don’t think you could possibly count how many hallways holed themselves into the mansion just from here. Hidden caverns filled with antiques, and ever-green chrysanthemums, and paintings that you could just see the corners of. Upon either side of the entrance were large Clerestory windows that provided snapshots of the flared lightning outside; so high up, so large, that it made the front door feel dwarfed.
You think it looks strangely familiar - perhaps something reminiscent of those illustrations you’d seen in classic stories.
Curiously, along the winding corridors, you note that there were many mirrors. Some small and bejeweled, some tall from ceiling to floor.
In intervals unknown to you, they stood out - the brightest of them all.
You jump at the feeling of something touching your elbow-
“My apologies for startling you, my lady.” Comes your host’s deep voice, and you whirl around to find him bowed. With a warm, citrus-scented towel presented to you (when did he even have the time to get that?) “Please, do make use of this towel to rinse off the water on your body. If you would like, I may do it for you?”
“No no, I can do it.” You insist, feeling your heart race. His stern lips quirk up ever-so-slightly when you reach for it. “Thank you.”
“It is my pleasure. I wouldn’t want my lady getting sick.”
My lady…
You shake your head, trying to get it free of that giggling lil’ voice that kept repeating those two words. Instead, you take the towel from the beautiful man and—oh.
Underneath your breath, you gasp through your nose. Because the very second that your fingers had grazed his own when taking the towel, a chill wafted down your spine. So cold. So…unnatural. You weren’t sure whether it was the sheer temperature, or the fact that it was the sheer temperature of his hand.
Why was he so cold?
Almost as if he sensed your thoughts, the man swiftly pulls his hand away. And it’s only then that you realize that he was dressed so smartly.
Shoes polished till they reflected your bewildered stare. Well-fitted black pants. A three-piece suit filled out by his broad shoulders. Black tailcoat. High collar. Steely buttons. And an emblem on his coat pocket that you couldn’t read from here. Gloves. Ah—so that was why he was so cold, you guessed.
Surely there was no other reason, right?
Lightning flashes.
The rooms lights up in ice-white.
“Oh dear, it seems the storm won’t be getting any better tonight.” He announces, clapping his hands twice. And then, previously unseen curtains start closing in on the windows so high above. Effectively shutting out the storm, the night, and with it, the world.
You wondered what automatic mechanism that was.
“We best get you to bed immediately, my lady.” The blond-haired man says, his hair gleaming in the candlelight - and you could’ve sworn that it’d been all ruffled and messy by the storm just prior. Now, it was untouched, as if he’d never stepped outside.
He rounds the entrance, politely gesturing at you to follow.
“Such a lovely place.” You observe, as you’re led up the staircase and into the East wing. The hallways were tall and ancient, humming with centuries of stories untold. And, as you’d expected, the antiques, the chrysanthemums, the paintings.
Blurs of faces that you were walking too quickly by to properly make out.
“Why thank you, my lady.” He looks back briefly, holding a golden candelabra to light your pathway. Still walking, he doesn’t need to stop to speak. “This is an old home, with old bones, old secrets.” The man cracks a grin, “I should know, I have been lucky to call myself a worker of this fine home for a long time.”
So he did work here - a butler, all signs were pointing to. You hum, butlers had always seemed like something out of a soap opera, or those regency novels.
Having him in front of you like this made you feel somewhat dizzy.
And you were entranced by the noiseless way he moved, “And how long is a long time?”
“Oh, one could say it feels like…centuries.” He chuckles to himself.
You make a few turns, heading deeper into the mansion. And you can’t help but notice that you’ve yet to see a single other person here except the two of you-
“The masters of this home are more in name.” The butler says, in his smooth tone. Like he could sense the question forming. “This house has been passed down through generations, and I fear that I have yet to officially meet whoever owns this grand establishment now.”
“Oh?” Your brows raise, “They seriously don’t come to visit a house this beautiful? Not even as a vacation home?”
“I’m afraid so. It is all but abandoned.” He nods, “But alas, I do not complain. They employ me here to clean and take care of this home, and that’s all I can ask. To preserve a piece of history so magnificent, no matter how much they try to forget…it shall always haunt you.”
“So you’re alone here?”
He stops then. And turns back to you with an unreadable expression- oh, something about the way the candelabra outlined the hollows of his face made you feel cold all over again. “I’m afraid so.” Voice quiet. “Would you prefer otherwise, my lady?”
In the distance, the growl of thunder trundles.
“No no, nothing like that.” You rush to answer, not wishing to offend the kind soul helping you for the night (and honestly, even despite that, you didn’t feel a speck of discomfort with him- in fact, you felt…at ease). “Honestly, you’ve been more than a delight- I was just wondering whether you don’t get lonely in such a big house, all by yourself. I certainly would visit.”
He observes you for a moment. Before his warm expression is back again- “Do not worry yourself over my wellbeing, my lady, of course, as all good workers do, I have gotten used to it. Yet…I must admit that there is the occasional night in which I, too, crave humanity—”
You listen, enraptured.
Before he then gestures to the door in front of which you’d stopped at - you hadn’t even noticed. It was an unassuming mahogany door, polished and pristine like all the rest.
His gloved hands gently twist the doorknob and lead you inside. “Your room, my lady.” He leaves the candelabra on top of a cabinet by the doorway. “I have arranged for a warm bath to be prepared for you, with a fine selection of body washes and shampoos from around the world. After which I ask you to allow me to treat you to a light supper in bed, as you must be hungry after such an exciting night. Kindly ring the bell-” He gestures at a slim handbell on the cabinet beside the candelabra that you hadn’t seen before. “-and I shall be here for you before the second ring.”
“This is…” You look around the room- chamber, more like.
The candles on the chandelier inside had lit up as soon as you stepped inside (you had to figure out that mechanism, somehow!) Bathing the expansive bedroom in a soft glow, like this, it almost looked like a piece of heaven itself.
An antique chamber. A four-poster king-sized bed in the middle. A plethora of sweet-scented flower pots. A few paintings of landscapes. A floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the balcony, the garden. Though now, you could only see the storm outside. On one side of the room, you could see a shelf of thick tomes, impeccably dusted, and next to it was a fireplace. Roaring.
You wondered how he had the time to light it.
On the other side it opened up to what you imagined must be an equally as luxurious bathroom. The polished tile squeaked as you made your way inside, reflecting your wind-torn coat that felt more than out-of-place in such a room. It almost felt like you were wading across a ballroom.
You whirl, and you note that one of the walls adjacent to the bed wasn’t taken up by some painting or mural or wallpaper- it was nearly covered by a gleaming mirror. How interesting.
“-this is amazing.” You breathe.
“I am glad that it is to your liking, my lady.” He bows, “If you need anything, or wish to ask anything, simply ring the bell.”
And as the blond-haired man moves to exit with a final bow, you reach your hand out- “Wait-”
He turns. “My lady?”
“Ah, I didn’t ring the bell but- your name.” You fiddle with the drenched fabric of your coat as you ask, wondering whether it was salvageable anymore. You tell him your own name, before questioning, “Can I ask your name?”
He smiles. “Nanami Kento, my lady.” And there’s a zip of excitement that runs through your body at finally putting a name to a handsome face. Nodding, you expect that that would be the end of your small pleasantries, and you turn back-
But before he leaves for good tonight, Nanami speaks over his shoulder. “And worry not, I am one hell of a butler.”
You snap your head back to listen to him speak, and find that he was already gone.
The hallway was dark outside, and there was a slight wind coming in. You hasten to shut the door and find that you can’t even hear Nanami’s footsteps disappearing, can’t even hear his shadow—well, you always had the bell, right?
You shook off the slight prickling at your skin, and welcomed yourself into the clouds of warmth spiffing from the bathroom.
.
.
.
That night may have been the best sleep of your life, you had to admit. Like you’d been home, and doubled by the luxury of the place.
It might have something to do with the fact that the massive bed was amongst the comfiest things you’ve ever felt, or it might have something to do with the easy cotton fabric of the pyjamas that Nanami had left while you were bathing.
You’d come out of the bathroom, refreshed (the bathroom ceiling was blanketed with the most beautiful mosaics, and the bathtub was accented with gold), only to find that he’d left out nightwear of your liking.
Of your exact size.
You’d stopped then, wondering how he managed to find something that fit you so perfectly.
Perhaps it was a lucky guess, and a previous owner of the mansion happened to be your exact size? Then again, it did feel so new in your hands…
Without wearing yourself out even further, you’d rung the bell and partaken in a quick dinner (you’d been famished, having only scoffed down a protein bar during the conference). And then chosen to ignore the shivers that ran down your spine to tuck yourself in. Soon oblivious to the storm, and the mansion’s creaking, and the eyes that seemed to watch you at night.
It all felt like part of a dream.
In the morning, you’d awoken to the twittering of birds, and a slab of golden sunlight, like butter, filtering in through the window. Nanami had already laid out a gorgeous princess-line dress of emerald green for you, with a deep v-cut collar that showed just a coy bit of skin, and a silhouette that flattered your frame perfectly.
That, too, was the perfect fit.
You adjusted your sleeves and couldn’t help but titter to yourself as you felt like a princess. In no time after you got ready, there was a knock at the door.
“Oh, come in.”
It couldn’t be anyone but Nanami. And he looked as handsome as the last time you’d seen him (earlier, in the late hours of the night you’d almost wondered whether it was the dimness that made him look so extraordinarily handsome).
But no, he was as beautiful as ever. His golden hair glinting in the sun, like a halo, and his smile beaming as he walks closer to you. “Good morning, my lady.” Nanami bows, “I see you have already prepared yourself for the day. How exquisite you look, should my eyes fall upon such a sight every morning then I should be blessed. Am I correct in assuming that the dress is adequate to your tastes?”
“It’s just beautiful, Nanami.” You run your hands down the sides, admiring. “I don’t know how you managed to get my perfect size.”
He brings a gloved index up to his lips, with a wink. “A butler always had his secrets.” Before he straightens up, “Now, if you would allow me, may I help you with your hair and make-up?”
“Oh-” You’d just thought about rifling through the vanity’s drawers, with the slight hope that you might find the products you use. And as if he could read your mind, he was offering. “Are you…sure?”
“It would be my honor, my lady.” Nanami sits you down on the chair before the vanity mirror. His broad frame behind you- from here, you could see just how snugly that tailcoat fit his slender waist. “You may keep your eyes on me, or on yourself- please tilt your chin up—”
Soft, cold hands get to work.
And you really did feel like a princess.
.
.
.
By the time you’re walking downstairs for breakfast, you find yourself all dolled up just the way you like it - and you didn’t even have to give Nanami too many directions. You thoroughly considered taking him back once you leave.
With the crook of his elbow stuck out for you to hold onto, his biceps flexed, you made your way to sit at the head of a long table. Narrow and at least as lengthy as two of your bedrooms back home.
Him trailing behind you at the entrance, you excitedly walk forwards to sit down- and have your chair pushed in by…Nanami?
You look towards the entrance once more, you could’ve sworn that he was still there the last time you looked.
He swiftly placed a steaming silver dish of breakfast in front of you, and then filled the table up with so many fruit platters upon toast upon sneaky puddings. Your eyes took in the kaleidoscope of food, feeling slightly dizzy at the sheer amount. “Did you—did you make all of this just this morning, Nanami?”
“What, this?” He looked in slight surprise at the table, as if wondering whether that was really an incredible amount. “Just part of my duties, my lady. Along with the cleaning, the baking, and the watering, a few to name.”
You look behind you - the dining room overlooked part of the garden that you hadn’t noticed last night during the storm.
Plush plants that somehow seemed unaffected by the torrents of water that had poured down: roses, chrysanthemums, marigolds, and weeping willows that all swayed idly in the wind. Like they were welcoming you. Welcoming you back. They were planted in a maze-like pattern. From here you think you could see flower-filled archways, and a lake that glittered underneath the sun.
You wondered how you missed it all last night - surely you would have stumbled across a few of the hedge growth? It all seemed so barren as you’d wound your way up to the portico, so acrid. But now…
“And if you don’t mind me being so brazen, I hope you do forgive me for this.” Nanami says, and you whip your head back to him- him and a very familiar set of car keys he was holding. “I took the freedom to move your car into our driveway.”
Your eyes nearly pop out of their skull, “You mean you pushed it all the way here?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Nanami smiles that secret smile, “Would you like to take a look at it after breakfast, my lady?”
You nod fervently, gulping down the rest of your breakfast.
In a few minutes, you’d already finished and was being tutted by Nanami into drinking enough water and putting on the outside slippers (procured by him, also your exact size) before you went outside. As expected, your car was a wreck.
There was one wheel missing and the engine seemed to be completely busted.
“I have already summoned the town’s mechanic.” He’s telling you, as you looked on at the car in gloom - that thing had taken up a lot of savings to acquire, and above all you hated to see it in such a sorry state. How would you get home?
“And?” You ask, eagerly. “Did they say when they would get here?”
“I’m afraid he won’t be here for at least a few days, my lady.” Nanami frowns empathetically, mirroring you. “The storm last night was quite vicious, you see. It has most of the roads blocked with trees, and until those get cleared up, he won’t be able to make it up here.”
You swear underneath your breath.
“But the good news is you can stay here as long as you like!” He attempts to lighten the mood, with a smile. “In fact, I might just keep you even longer.”
“Oh, but I really couldn’t impose…”
“I insist.”
And that was that, it seems you’d be staying here for a little longer than you’d originally planned. Though, with Nanami’s hospitality, you doubted you’d feel anything but at home.
Right?
.
.
.
The rest of your day and the next was spent simply reading the fantasy novels in your bedroom, lounging in the gardens and corners of the mansion.
By your second day there you’d explored every inch of the mansion that there was to explore (except for, perhaps the basement. A strangely nostalgic door outside. Which you had reached the very foot of, before Nanami had gently nudged you back inside with some comment about wines being mulled there that cannot see the light of day until the time was right). It’d taken you five entire days to get yourself properly acquainted with the place.
And with your profanities.
Spewing them out, you don’t think you’ve ever used before as you attempted to get even a single bar of signal for your phone.
“Goddammit-” You grit your teeth, for the nth time in the past hour. It’s your second day in the mansion, and you’re leaning over the balcony of your bedroom, so far outwards that you think you might just fall off.
With your hand outstretched, phone fisted in the air and searching for a signal. You couldn’t call anyone like this, let alone the mechanic to confirm. None of your messages or emails went through, either. “How are we this far up and yet I can’t get a single bar- oh, when I get home I’m cancelling this stupid subscription mark my words.”
“Might I suggest, my lady–” Nanami says from behind you. He stood beside your bed, changing the blankets and fluffing the pillows. “-that in the meantime you perhaps take a look at our library? I think you’ll find that we have certain books that are quite riveting.”
“Maybe…” You respond, still stung by the uselessness of your phone. “I don’t suppose that in the meantime you could also arrange a messenger pigeon for me, could you?”
He perks up, “I shall tame a pigeon immediately-”
“No no, it’s alright.” You wave off, with a stifled laugh. Ah- he always did manage to put you in a better mood, despite your circumstances. “Maybe I’ll take a look at the library tonight, it beats trying not to smash my phone to bits.”
“Quite.” Nanami quips.
And before you can say anything more, he’s walking over to you. Placing his hand on top of the phone - effectively on top of yours—“After all, it is a beautiful day outside. Would you fancy a walk in the garden, my lady?”
“Y-yes please-” You whisper, at his proximity. Cold to the touch.
“Then, I shall get your slippers ready.” He smiles, and leaves. You can only look from afar as he exits, letting a breath leave your chest that you didn’t know you’d been holding in for the moment.
Your head drops down without thinking to look at your phone. Only—
NOT FOUND ERROR 404.
You furrow your brows, trying to press on a few buttons- but the error message doesn’t leave. It glitches. Different from the meager ‘no signal’ symbol that’d been there earlier. And the crashed page is all you can see once more.
NOT FOUND ERROR 404.
NOT FOUND ERROR 404.
NOT FOUND ERROR 404.
.
.
.
The error message lasts until your walk in the gardens.
The error message lasts all the way until after lunch. After dinner.
It was in the dead of your third night here, under the veil of darkness, when you finally manage to find a signal.
Despite your phone having crashed, and despite your feet aching from your productive day, you found yourself leaning over the edge of your bedroom balcony once more. The edge of your phone reaching outwards—one bar of signal obtained.
You breathe out in relief, falling back onto the heels of your feet. The wind was whipping in spirals around you, creating a cloud of your nightdress to billow. Soft silk. Feeling like the touch of a hand.
You look at the phone screen that had finally stopped flashing that error sign, and eagerly tap towards the phone app. Only—
Your phone vibrates with a call.
Confused at the Unknown number, you wonder whether this might be someone from home that’s been worried about your whereabouts. And so you don’t question it much when you slide the blaring bar and answer the call. “Hello?”
No one answers.
You repeat, “Hello? Can you hear me?”
No one answers.
Perhaps it was the wind that was making you hard to hear? You turn away from the gales slightly, careful not to lose the humble signal that you have. And you press your phone harder against your face. “Hello? Who’s this-”
No one answers.
But that’s when you hear it: heavy breathing.
Low and labored. Like someone had just run a mile and immediately picked up the phone, somehow dialing your number.
“Is this some sort of prank?” You hiss, “Because it isn’t funny. Who is this?”
No one answers.
Heavy breathing.
“Answer me-”
No one answers.
Heavy breathing.
“Hello?”
No one answers.
Heavy breathing.
“Answer me-”
There’s a sharp tone as the phone ends, whether by you or whoever was on the other end of the line you’re not quite sure.
Heavy breathing.
This time, not from the phone.
You whirl around with a gasp—the curtains gust out at a sudden wind. And there’s no one behind you - there’s no sound of breathing behind you, either. But you’re sure you’d heard it before. You’re sure.
Lightning flashes in the distance.
There’s the rumble of thunder that almost sounds like laughter- in fact, you’re sure that if you let your ears keenly listen in, it was laughter. Masculine and deep. Echoing into the distance, like it was someone surrounding you.
With your phone clutched to your thundering chest, you’re quickly walking to the safety of your bedroom inside. And you decide to lock every window that night.
You couldn’t sleep.
.
.
.
The day after that - your third day in the mansion now, your fourth night - there was still no sign of the car mechanic. You’d taken to sleeping during the day, lounged upon an intricately woven love seat that was inside your chambers.
Of course, Nanami hadn’t questioned a thing.
He was as warm and welcoming as ever, of course. Always so efficient getting you the things you needed, helping you get ready, and cooking your favorite foods - almost too efficient. Any time you looked at him, he never seemed to have a hair out of place, despite being embroiled in the toughest of domestic tasks (he took offense any time you offered to pull your own weight until the mechanic arrived).
Practically perfect.
Almost unnatural.
You wondered how he had the time to do it all…
And that foggy night, you tossed and turned amongst the sea of expensive silken blankets. Ultimately, as the clock struck 2AM and you still found yourself unable to sleep, you got off the side of the mattress and walked. To the candelabra on the cabinet. And then outside.
With no fixed aim nor destination, your feet took you down one of the paths you’d explored during your days here. Though, you had the faintest feeling that even if you hadn’t explored- you’d have known your way around here. Past unwilted flowers and paintings that seemed to stare you down as you passed. And soon enough, you were standing in front of the great double doors of the library.
One of them, at least.
Nanami had told you that the mansion boasted about five massive libraries, filled to the brim with books across all ages and authors. And the smell of pages and put-out fires greet your senses when you enter, your slippers thudding across the cold stone floor.
The ceiling was high, almost never-ending.
And from above peered severe gargoyles, their wings outstretched, and their mouths mid-scream as if to warn you not to take a step closer. You wrapped your arms around your body and shivered, looking up at the high shelves.
With one hand craned out, you trace your fingers down their thick spines. Not a speck of dust on them.
Until, finally, the hairs at the back of your neck seem to raise–
You look behind you.
Nothing.
It was dark in the library, the sole source of light being the paper-thin moonlight that filtered in through the windows. Casting an almost eerie glow on everything it’s spindly fingers touched.
Though, you still don’t think you would be able to sleep if you headed back to your bedroom right now. And you curiously read the book spines where you stopped walking (it was too dark to make them out properly, yet you still take a few of them with you, in hopes of a distraction).
You sit down at the nearest wooden table, and the singular candle holder in the middle of it flickers to life. As if awakened by your presence.
You really wondered what this mechanism must be - you made a mental note to ask Nanami tomorrow. And in the glow, you could now see what books you’d actually picked up.
Baker’s Book (1901)
Sebastian’s Book on How to Keep the House Warm
Pride and Prejudice
A Historical Analysis of the Nanami Mansions
That one was struck through, its scabrous leather cover torn as if someone had ripped through it with a knife. You squinted as you tried to read through the title, to no avail.
Of Demons and Servitude: The Hellish Agelong Contracts That Surpass Love
That last one seemed a little out of place amongst the rest- well. You took a look around. Perhaps it wasn’t that out of place.
And in the dancing candlelight, you open the first book and begin to read.
.
.
.
You’d fallen asleep there.
Somewhere midway through a paragraph about how this very mansion had no official founder, and how it had been handed to the first owner by chance; thus, resulting in its descent into discourse over ownership (with masters who, surprisingly, rather than fighting for it had been fighting not to have it), and how the whereabouts of the last master was unknown.
You dreamt of contracts and haggling masters and packed bags and demons. The red, red eyes of a demon that watched from the shadows.
As much a part of the mansion as the mansion was part of him.
And you swear that in the depths of your slumber, you felt cold, cold hands graze your skin. Your cheek. Your arms. With his pointed fingernails that were meant to kill.
A candle snuffs out.
You woke up and it was morning, and someone had draped a blanket over you.
.
.
.
Nanami had noticed that you were becoming more and more engulfed in your books. After several more tries to reach a phone signal had failed, you’d resigned yourself to merely waiting for the mechanic to get to you.
He informed you that the road clean up seemed to have been taking longer than usual, given the constant downpour the land was experiencing. And you understood.
After all, you weren’t lacking for anything here at all. Nanami made sure of that.
You’d moved on from the mysterious, and half-recorded, history of the mansion. Somehow more interesting than you might have imagined. On towards the baking book, the novel, even the domestic book.
Until the only thing left out of the book you’d picked was the eerie one about demons. Though you could easily go back and choose another, you weren’t a quitter!
And so you found yourself flipping through its pages, all the while watched over by a silent Nanami.
You begrudgingly admitted that the book had you enraptured. And soon enough, you were drinking in all there was to drink about the rituals it took to summon said demons, the way they could take on the most exquisite appearances, and even a few ‘real life’ recounts of people who’ve encountered them.
“Look at this one, Nanami.” You pointed somewhere on the page, and he leaned over your shoulder kindly to follow your finger. “The person saying they saw a demon here is from this very town, hah! What a coincidence.”
He smiles, “What a coincidence indeed, my lady.”
“Just imagine- meeting a demon. I wonder what it would be like- I’d probably get my soul stolen in an instant.”
“Demons steal souls only after they’ve bound a human in a contract, my lady. Though other methods of payments for a demon’s services can manifest themselves in the form of blood, flesh, sex. They thirst for those things, demons. Going without is almost worse than death- of course, a demon can’t die.” At your slightly stunned silence, Nanami cocks his head. “Chapter sixteen, the ways of the body.”
“R-right.” You start, “Sorry, I just didn’t think you’d be the type to be into such things.”
He bears a secret smile. A secret, secret smile. “There is much that you don’t know of me, my lady.” Nanami spreads butter on a piece of toast without you even asking to, and places it gently down on your plate. “But of course, there is much time to find out.”
.
.
.
It’s by your sixth day that Nanami finally knocks at your bedroom door, deep into the evening. And he informs you that-
“The mechanic shall be here in a few hours, my lady.” You look outside through your window, at the blue and gold night. And of course he notices that little action - he notices everything. “I may have had a hand in the somewhat ah- untimely manner of things. You see, I had pressured him into coming as soon as possible, and it seems that the roads have only just cleared.”
“Oh, I see.” You reply, “I expect I should go down to wait for him in a bit, then.”
“If you so wish, my lady.”
After dinner, you took your demon book with you and paced the halls of the mansion. Just waiting. It was a few hours past when the mechanic was supposed to come, and you could feel yourself getting antsy. No matter how many times Nanami told you the mechanic would be here soon, and that he would take care of it all.
Nonetheless, when you found the corridors thoroughly trodden, you stepped outside. It was a clear night out, and you sat on the porch with your book in your lap.
Reading through the passages in the dim twilight as you waited.
You were on the final chapter now.
“Chapter 22: Fables From the Shadows - Nanami Mansion.
Hearken, o’ mortal. In another story from the deep, the darkness, I entrust your ears with the legend of the Nanami mansion.
Hundred of years old. It stands still, braving the storms and the times, a relic of a past that never changes. And shall never change. Not as long as the mansion is haunted by the ghosts of its past, they say that the very walls of the house are infused with a force unknown.
Or so they say.
No mortal soul can say with utmost certainty when the mansion was built, nor by who, nor for what purpose. Only that the line of its masters has been both gruesome and bloody; history claims that what had once been impassioned family feuds over ownership quickly turned into a family heirloom that no pawn shop would accept.
No soul wished to be the master of a demon.”
A twig snaps.
And you gasp, looking up- though there was no one there. The light that flooded in from the mansion revealed no one outside, and so, shaking, you kept on reading.
The mechanic still wasn’t here.
“Yes, o’ mortal. It is true.
Though one cannot say for certain the dark forces that envelop the house, it is what resides inside that is sure to catch the interest of a demonologist such as you and I.
A demon.
They say that he - or, at least, he who takes the shape of a man - runs the household as if its masters still occupy its decadent bones. As if its masters weren’t taken by the very force that now cleans the windows, and grows pretty flowers in the mansion’s garden. As if its masters still live.
Still linger.
But do not be fooled, dear reader, the only thing that lingers in this household is the demon himself. His smile gentle. His face kindly. It would not be out of the realm of possibility that those of mortal desires, like us, are disarmed by the handsome face he uses to mask his bloodthirst. And he has snuffed the mansion of anything that makes this house a home.”
Someone was watching you.
Somehow, it didn’t feel human.
“One by one, it started with the other servants, centuries ago. Those who were lucky to flee their posts and tell the tale spoke of a shadow that haunted their every waking moment, of a fleeting presence that produced nail marks in the morning, or items in their chambers suddenly unravelled.
He was the model worker, unsusceptible.
And by the time the masters of the household realized, it was far too late for their mortal souls. The servants had disappeared, the livestock had fallen to plague, and the only residents of the mansion were them. And him.”
Someone was waiting.
You knew it didn’t feel human.
“There need not be much speculation on the fates of the owners in the house at the time, after which there was a scramble to pawn the mansion by living relatives.
Though, by that point, rumors of the mansion’s more supernatural occurrences were already beginning to fester, and the effort was futile.
And though the mansion stands lonely now, never think that it is abandoned, o’ mortal. Perhaps you shall find that the chandeliers are always lit, and the beds are made. Dinners at the mansion are lavish and a-plenty. All of this can be given credit to the demon that runs it, of course.”
You stand up.
The mechanic was countless hours past when he was supposed to come, and you guessed he wouldn’t be making it today, either. Perhaps something more urgent had come up. Your feet step backwards- but something stops you, as if an invisible force. And without taking your eyes away from the page, you step forwards.
“Why this ancient creature torments the mortals that reside in the mansion, yet takes such meticulous care of it is a question unanswered to us. Perhaps we may never know.
Though some whispers claim that the rightful owner isn’t any lord or ladyship or bastard heir. No, not at all. It is - and brace yourselves for this, dear reader - none other than the demon himself.”
Forwards.
“Of course, this is only one theory put forth by demonologists. But as the rightful heir to the estate, the demon takes his time finishing off the foolish mortals that believe that it is theirs to claim. When, in actuality, you are stepping into the very abode of the creature. And no one - no one - has lasted longer than six days in its abode.
A creature that cannot ache. A creature that cannot love.”
Forwards.
“And he will always have his door open to the ignorant that walk in. Into what one may think is a heaven named after his very self.”
You stop.
“Nanami Kento, of the Nanami Mansions.”
The book drops from your hands.
A scream in your throat, you’re realizing that you’d walked yourself - almost in a trance - right up to the shrub-covered door to the basement. The very same one that Nanami had nudged you away from last time.
Nanami…a shiver runs down your spine. You don’t know what to think.
Almost as if it will provide you the answers, you reach out and twist the basement door handle. It creaks out in agony as it opens, and you almost have half the mind to run away right then, right now.
But you’re no quitter.
In nothing but the pale moonlight, you step inside the basement and make your way down its narrow stairway. They were made of metal, biting through the soles of your slips with each step. You’re squinting your eyes in the darkness, hands reached out in front of you like you’d find something.
And then—
And then, right as you reach the landing of the staircase, you step in something wet.
It almost felt like a puddle after rain. Though the liquid stuck to your slippers, thicker than that. And as you raised your feet, it created a hollow squelch; the viscous sap looked much darker than water was supposed to be.
You gasp. It can’t be-
Lightning strikes.
Just a snapshot of light. Like someone had taken a photograph and burned it into your retinas.
In that split-second, you saw that what you’d thought was a puddle of water wasn’t really water at all. It was red. It was thick.
And it was leading a pathway all the way down to a body in the middle of the basement.
Two-toned hair bled red. Eyes pure white.
The mechanic lay dead on the basement floor. For how long, you weren’t quite sure.
With a scream, you almost slip on the blood as you sprint upstairs. Running out into the pouring rain outside - if you’d been guided in a daze to the massacre, then your brain was working in overdrive to guide you out.
Slippers squelching. Eyes stinging with rain. You couldn’t even see where you were going, and it reminded you of the night you arrived here.
Yet, you’ll always find the mansion - always. And in almost no time (though it felt like eons to your poor, shivering body), you’re running inside the mansion and slamming! the front door shut.
Body pushed against the door. Lungs heaving. You gulp.
With your eyes downturned, your watch the rich carpet beneath your feet drench with beads of water. Rusted water. Blood.
Fuck.
You had to get out of here right now.
Just as soon as the thought has struck your brain, the candles go out. Every. Single. One of them. Startled, you’re whipping around and trying to open the door- bang! bang! bang! It only rattles underneath your hands, firmly shut with unseen bolts and padlocks that you wouldn’t have been able to open no matter what.
And it’s only with the thin glow of the moonlight that you can move your urgent body, one step after the other. Jerky, as if you have to force yourself to do it.
As if you have to fight against some outside force to do so.
You knew that no matter where you went inside the mansion, Nanami would be able to find you. What if you—the balcony.
You gasp, and try to tamper the thought down as swiftly as it had formed.
Without a second of lingering any further, your feet dart you up the sprawling staircase. Spirals. Heart thundering, feet thudding, and your gasps laborious as you ran towards the bedroom that he had oh-so-graciously given to you.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Steady.
The complete opposite of your own, follow you the closer you get to it. Seeing that gleaming wooden door wink at you from the end of the hallway, like an old friend.
Until, finally, you’re throwing open the door and running inside-
“My lady.”
You howl in terror and it’s swallowed up by the sudden crashing of the storm outside. You hadn’t just raced into your room- you’d ended up bumping into none other than Nanami Kento’s firm, toned chest.
Carefully looping his arms around you.
“You’re-” You hiss, stepping backwards. “You’re a-”
“Yes.”
And then suddenly he’s behind you. Caging you inside the room, with no possibility of running back where you’d come from.
He looms, larger than life. His shadow walking inside- “I can’t believe you’re a-” You stagger backwards, “So all this time-”
“All this time.” Nanami breathes out, even though you knew that his lungs didn’t need to work. Then he grins and oh- it’s the one thing that you could see completely clearly in the dimness of the night: his stark-white fangs, those crimson eyes, pupils like a snake’s.
They bore down at you, especially when your limp legs stumble- and Nanami’s right there to steady you. With his inhumanly strong arms capturing your waist, and his chest pressed to yours.
Oh.
That low voice of his buries deep within your eardrums, sensual. “And I’ve been waiting…” He practically purrs, and your thighs clench. “-so, so long for you, my lady.”
You feel shivers go down your spine when Nanami nuzzles his nose against your throat, “A- a long time- so you mean that-”
“Yes.”
“Am I an descendant to the owner of this house-”
“Yes.” He sighs out his answers, like it took everything in him. Like he was breathing life into you. And you can’t help but notice that the two of you have edged towards the bed now, and you slightly turn your head to look at the mirror on the wall. “And you don’t know how starved I have been, my lady.”
Only to find that Nanami’s reflection didn’t show up on it.
It looked as if you were standing by yourself, and the blond-haired man (demon, more like) only holds you tighter in response. He murmurs in your ear, “Though enlightening, that book of yours doesn’t hold much truth.”
“It doesn’t?”
“Well-” His fangs glint, “-it does.”
You shiver. Not only with coldness, not only with fear.
Something more akin to a carnal need, with him pressed up against you like this.
“Though, it was wrong about two things-” Nanami’s plump lips graze down the column of your throat, and you wonder whether he can sense the way you grow…wet. “-a demon can yearn, a demon can love.”
Oh.
One of his overlarge hands drag down your spine, fiddling with the ties of a dress that he’d tailored to your exact size. Perhaps centuries ago.
“And this demon has been waiting for centuries for your soul to return, my lady.”
Your arms tighten on his shoulders, and tender slip up to loop around his neck. “I’m here, Kento.” Your body is boneless in his hold, and he holds you to him like he wants you to be of one soul.
.
.
.
There’s a sodden squeeeeelch as he’s lightly tuggin’ those cute panties of yours aside- how could you even walk around with something so sweet on you?
Nanami feels his oh-so-famished tastebuds start to water at the sight of your pretty, pretty cunt. Just a thin line of drool makin’ its way down the side of his stern lips, mirroring the way that your tight hole was weeping out.
He rubs his glove-clad thumb down the front of your glistening folds, and you whimper at the scratch of its smooth texture. “Have you ever done something like this before, my lady?”
With a mewl, you nod.
And you can’t help but notice the way that Nanami’s jaw clenches. “I see.” And there’s an inkling of something dark in his tone that you can’t quite pinpoint right now, roverin’ his mean fingerpads just over where your poor clit was. “And, forgive me if this is too forward, but have you ever fully enjoyed something like this before, my lady?”
“Well-” You try to keep your tone even, bucking off the bed. You were all sprawled out with only your drenched panties on, and Nanami Kento was on his knees by the foot of the bed.
On his knees for you.
His lips twitched impatiently, a sort of hunger in his eyes the longer he had to watch your needy pussy cling onto nothing. Continuing, “Well, I’ve liked it before with other people but-”
“Yes, my lady?”
And as you finish off, you slightly duck your head in shame. Whispering the words out (though you knew he’d hear with his demonic senses anyways). “But none of them have ever made me…cum before. I can reach it by myself but with other people- you know.”
“I understand.” You peer up to see the way that Nanami stares kindly at you. Something understanding in his eyes. Something…primal.
And your cunt starts to throb even more once he reaches his dominant right hand up to his mouth, then proceeding to bite down on the edge of his glove, and pull it off with his tongue. So unintentionally attractive. “Then, kindly allow me.”
In a split-second, his thick fingertip is probin’ between your pussylips.
Feeling the hotness of you clenching ‘round him and he groans- “You’re so ready for me, aren’t you, madam?” Just the slightest hitch in his tone as he’s then sinking in with a slooooooppy slurp. The kind that leaves your ears ringing and your mouth dropping with each scouring inch he eases in.
Your eyes roll to the back of your skull at the feeling of his tender girth poking your insides. “O-oh my god.” Bucking your hips even deeper into his touch- “How does it feel so good already?”
“Oh, is that so–?” Nanami’s blond lashes flutter in amusement, “But you haven’t felt anything yet, my lady. Won’t you just raise your hips for me-” He guides you, and you’re squirming down his lengthy digits. “-yes, yes. Just like that, keep taking it all, alright?”
“I am I am-” Sobbing.
And you don’t know where you’re bawling more from - your swollen lips on your face, or the ones down below. The ones that he was striking viciously with his mountainous knuckles, every time he thrusted to let the long, solid inches of his finger delve inside.
Inside and inside.
Pushin’ in- he was just so eager to plunge himself inside.
Until the very forefront of his knuckles smacked your pussylips, and Nanami’s ruthlessly pressing his ring finger against your outer cunt. Smooch-smooch-smooching the very round tip of his ring finger against your pulsing clit, until he’s trying to fit that inside, too.
“Easy does it.” Nanami hisses, blond brows furrowing. Beads of sweat start decorating his forehead as he concentrates. “Easy- eeeeeasy. You can take it, my lady.”
And if you thought that the stretch of one of his fingers was enough to drive you wild, then you weren’t ready for two. “Oh my- fuck. You’re so mean.” You whine, holding onto his other gloved hand. Nanami has his fingers romantically intertwined with yours, and you were just clawing at his wrist there.
The demon raises a brow - devilish. “Would you like me to stop?”
“No!” You rush to blurt out, your hips startin’ to gyrate. It took you a few vulgar strokes to get used to the size of him stretchin’ out your tiniest hidden nooks and crannies open - you swear that Nanami’s fingers were larger than normal. Scouring oh-so-deeply inside. “No no no- keep going. Ngh, you’re a-almost there.”
“Mmm, am I?” His lip curls, “And I wonder if ah- ‘there’ would feel even better with three fingers, hm?”
“O-oh…”
“That’s all you have to say, madam?” Nanami genuinely questions, though there’s a certain waver in his voice that lets you know he was teasing you. He was making your honeyed cunt grow even wetter with how Nanami Kento, of all beings, was being mean to you.
And with a few more slashing strokes, he’s fully opened up the clingy channel of your walls- fuck, he couldn’t even reel his two fingers back without your needy pussy trying to gulp him back up again.
Then with a sudden, soaked squelch you’re feeling a third of his fingertips kiss your tight hole. Tapping just a few times before he instantly presses down on your clit and makes you gasp- “Oh, fuck.”
The perfect moment for Nanami to shove his extended digit inside. All three of them expanding and contracting, scissoring a few times to engrave the crowned edges of his fingers against your most tender spots. “There-” Nanami hisses, between clenched teeth. “There there there-”
You’re suddenly seeing white- why?
Because on that fourth bludgeon of his, Nanami’s easily locating your g-spot to pummel.
“-you’re taking it all so well, my lady. S’like you’re made f’me…heh.”
“Shit-” Only blubbering and panting, he’s hittin’ your favorite spot so hard that your vision starts to blue - and you don’t know whether it’s because of tears or the sheer amount of white-hot pleasure that he’s making run through your body. “Shit shit shit shit- oh. Right there, keep going, Kento.”
Yet another smack! to that gooey bundle of nerves—“Ohhh, how I love when you call me that, madam.” Hard.
Push after push after push, and he’s spreading his prying tips so open- letting the doughy edges catch on the crevices of your g-spot. Meanly caressing.
Even though he’s speeding up, slick dripping down the sides of his overworking wrists like a faucet, you don’t think he misses that lewd target of his even a single time. Push after push after push. Dizzy with the force, you look up n’ find that Nanami’s slitted pupils were glowing.
He was using his demonic powers to perfectly angle the strikes of his fingerpads against your sweetest, sultriest spot. Stickin’ straight against your nerves, you had absolutely no chance of a breather when he was using some sort of x-ray vision to keep your pussy captive.
“Captive?” Nanami reads your thoughts, “Madam, I fear that this isn’t even- hah, half of my speed. Would you like me to accelerate?”
And he does.
And you’re feeling so much bliss at the moment that you can’t stop yourself from anchoring your feet onto the mattress and pushing off- unsure whether you wanted to help meet his cadence or run away—
“Ah ah, what an adorable feat.”
His husky baritone breaks through your hazy thoughts- and before you know it, Nanami’s free hand untangles from yours to grip the sides of your neck n’ tug you right back.
Slapping that cutely sensitive front of your pussy with his knuckles, the demon chuckles darkly as you squirm at the pleasure. “You don’t think you can run away from me, can you, my silly lady?” With a growl, he tightens his restraint on your throat and makes you wince at the lack of oxygen. “You can’t. You won’t.”
And with that, Nanami cranes his watering mouth down to kiss the insides of your thighs. Letting the syrupy-sweet sheen of your slick coat his chin, “I’ve waited for you for centuries, and I’ll wait for you centuries more. I’ll find you.” Tightening. “Don’t think of running, madam.”
“Won’t- won’t-” You squeal out, and through the blurry gaps of your vision you can see the way that Nanami’s salivating. The way that his lips edge towards your heated core, the way he looks like he’s starving the longer he stares down at your cunt. “But, Kento, I do have one request of you.”
He snaps his head up immediately, “Anything, madam.”
“Could you please, ngh-” Your lips wobble desperately as you utter, and Nanami listens enraptured to every word. “-please put your mouth on me?”
And the stern man - a demon, living for centuries, unphased as he waited for your soul to meet him again - lets his mouth drop into a heated ‘oh’ as he registers. As he lets your words throb all the way at his furious cock.
“As you wish, my lady.”
Then you’re feeling the scorching hot sensation of his breath cloud your inner thighs, slithering upwards just in time with his mouth. “As you wish-” Nanami whispers, more to himself - more like a mantra.
“As you wish, as you wish, as you- mmm.” His mouth slips over the crevice of your cunt, and you’re feeling him perfectly slot his lips with your folds. He cracks his ravenous mouth open, “Allow me to- oh.”
Before immediately shutting himself up after the first candied taste of your cunt.
He lets his slicked tongue squeeze inside, gulping. “F-forgive me for not finishing my sentence. What I meant was, allow me to-” You buck, shoving him nose-deep between your sultry pussylips. “-oh, fuck. Forgive me, you just have me so…”
And he can’t even finish his sentence like this.
Because every time he’s parting those stern lips of his to speak, yet another glittery wad of your slick slips between that greedy maw of his. Pooling at the back of his mouth like some puddle, he can’t fucking get enough of your sweet, sweet juices. “It’s just- the taste of you. Shit. My lady, and who has allowed you to taste this sinful?” He hums. Guttural.
“Mmm, I dunno. Maybe you should’ve found out earlier-” You say, coyly. And raise your hips up to let his strong, velvety tongue pry inside n’ out. Almost fighting his fingers for space inside.
“Maybe you should’ve appeared earli- oh, fuck.” Shit, did he love hearing your gorgeous voice in conversation.
But if that meant breaking off his prolonged, open-mouthed kiss with your pussy then he wasn’t wasting any time. He was just slathering his maw widely agape, the flat tastebuds on top of his tongue moving back and forth and all over.
And spearheading just his honed tip inside, the crowned girth of his tongue snakes all the way to your innards. Jostling his own fingers-
You gasp when that only makes him skid his fingertips against your g-spot even further.
“I promise, I’ll be able to finish my sentences-” Nanami seethes. “-promise I’ll be able to, just with another- mmm, just another taste-” And his tongue lavishly licks up and down your slit. “-and another- oh, maybe one more-”
Again and again.
He’s trying to control himself but he can’t.
His sizzlin’ hot tastebuds probe their way inside, before ultimately pulling out and resting against your clit. Nanami counts your throbbing pulse one-two-three-four times before he starts fucking you with it again.
All three of his digits and his tongue. Swirlin’ in dizzying patterns around and around and drawing a cute heart on top of your nub. Followed right up by his silvery initials—‘N.K.’
You’re shivering, curling the tips of your toes as the fatness of his tongue rolls over your clit. Again and again. And his fingers are just merciless- digging three slender circumferences against the side of your walls, feeling that if he could thrust even deeper to hit the side of your cervix then he would have ages ago. In fact…
“Wh-what are you-” You jump your upper half off of the springy sheets - it was as if your wet dream was coming to life. Nanami was elongating the tendrils of his fingers with supernatural powers, slipping every thorough inch even deeper. “Oh my god- ngh, now that’s just unfair-”
“And yet, I’m not the one that thought of it.” He snickers, plunging his digits further. And further and further.
So deep, in fact, that you think you can feel his slimy, slick-glazed tips all the way near the back of your throat. Stabbing in thorough thrashes, you huff. “And yet- who’s the one that’s, mmm, pussydrunk, hm?”
“No- no no no, I’m not pussydrunk, madam.” Nanami insists, “Not at all. This is just a slight affliction that I- mmpf.”
You clench ‘round his fingers and that only makes him jerk his face even deeper- thank goodness he didn’t have to fucking breathe, because he was spending all his time swabbin’ away. Using the hand he still had on your throat, he pulls you in incredibly. “It’s not that m’pussydrunk—” Slurring his damn words. “-it’s just that…”
“Mhm—?”
You’re so wet by now that you begin to gush down his face. And Nanami didn’t have blood running through his veins, of course, but you should still feel his cheekbones burn with heat.
You’d made the centuries-old demon blush.
You’d made him gurgle on the slippery wads of your slick.
So completely pussydrunk that the thought of you realizing he was so- and taking your treacly cunt away made him glue his lips to your clit with a slight cry. A slight whimper—“D-don’t take this pretty pussy away from me.” His hand lifts off of your neck to hold onto your thighs, tugging. “Please?”
And as if to prove his point - to prove his desperation - the roverin’ tip of Nanami’s tongue moves even harder against your pussy.
Even faster.
And his scouring fingerpads probe in so deep that you throw your head back with a moan. Those wriggling tips filling up your every orifice, “Yes-” You weave your fingers into his unruly golden locks. “M’not gonna, Kento-” Gasping. “M’not gonna take myself away s-so you don’t have to- oh.”
“Thank you, my lady.” Just so rough with it. “Thank you- thank you- thank you-”
You swear he’s bruising at the battered innards of your walls, and he’s leaving nail marks for daaaaays upon your thighs. Battling with his own lecherous fingers. Moving his lush tastebuds again and again and again-
“Thank you for lettin’ me taste such a sweet, sweet pussy, madam.” Nanami scorches out against your cunt, slobbering all down it. “Thank you for letting ‘er- ngh, cum all down my tongue.”
“C-cum?” You lift your dazed head at his pussydrunk babbling - only to find that it wasn’t just babbling, after all.
Because Nanami’s honed abilities meant that he could sense when the zapping fireworks at the pit of your stomach grew, he could fucking smell the honeyed fragrance of your cunt growing close. And, sure as day, with a few more vulgar strokes, you’re falling apart on his fingers and his mouth.
Your back arching you even closer against his nuzzlin’ nose, you cry out as your high zaps right through you. “It feels so good- oh, Kento. Oh my g-god.”
“Mmm, the opposite, my lady.” Nanami chuckles, fucking you through every peak of your high- you should have expected that he has a sixth sense for it. And with the soaring peaks of your orgasm, Nanami mazes his fingertips to directly hit your g-spot.
So good.
You’re drooling through your entire high stupidly, your eyes watering through the sensitive pangs of pleasure. Tuggin’ on Nanami’s clammy scalp to pull him in even deeper, and he was more than happy to let himself be moved. To be ridden.
Long, sloppy drag of his tongue making you arch your back. “Sh-shut up-” Mewling out, you let yourself be wrung dry of the waves of pleasure.
“As you wish, madam.”
And he dutifully listens, there for only your euphoria. To which you respond by elongating your high by grinding down on his face—allll the way from the point of his handsome chin to the tip of his straight nose. “Shit-” You whimper, “Shit shit shit- never felt so good. Never felt like this.”
Nanami groans ‘round your clit, the vibrations sending you into a frenzy.
“M’serious-” You prattle out, your movements eventually slowing. That might just have been the best orgasm of your entire life - you were never going to be the same. “It just felt so good, Kento…wait, you’re not- ngh, done?”
He only shakes his head.
He only lets his slitherin’ tongue lap and lap at the teary crevice of your pussy.
With every lick, you’re feeling your body go into overdrive. Heat flaring. Heart racing. You absolutely thrash against the damp sheets of the bed as he continues- like you’d never even reached your high.
Just plap after plap after plap of his knuckles against your tender outer pussy- and you start to wonder whether it doesn’t hurt for him. Whether his wrist doesn’t sting. Whether his mouth wasn’t swollen n’ rubbed raw on your drippin’ wet pussy, “Mmm, told me to shut up and make you feel good, didn’t you, madam?” You weren’t entirely sure that that was what you said, verbatim.
Yet you’re too gone on his silvery tastebuds to bite back anything now. “Y-yes…?”
“And that’s exactly what m’doing.”
He’s overstimulating you even more. Thrusting his tongue between those sopping wet lips of yours to poke at your throbbing g-spot, you swear he’s able to elongate his wet muscle even further.
Slashing against your most tender spots-
“Sh-shit- but m’so sensitive.” Whining out, you half-heartedly attempt to tug him off of your pussy- but it was as if Nanami was plastered to your wettened lips. “I don’t even know if I can cum so soon again, Kento.”
He slightly raises his head - not enough to stop his drivelling mouth, of course - and raises a blond brow. “You don’t know, my lady?”
You shake your head.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
And with that said, he’s fingering you to make a point. Staring at the writhing expressions on your face every time Nanami’s digits plunged inside, they hit the near-back of your pussy with such slurping sounds.
Hit after hit. Teasingly kissin’ against the throbbing spot of your nerves, and that’s when you can feel the fireworks start up again in the pit of your stomach once more-
And that’s when Nanami can sense it.
Smell it.
Taste it- fuck, it was as if you became even sweeter on his tongue any time you were nearing your high. And he doesn’t say a single word - doesn’t waste the time to - only thrashing and thrashing, he hits the bruised area of your g-spot and watches as you fall apart once more.
Pleasure zipping through your body.
Toes curling.
Tears were streaming down your cheeks, and your mattress was all but drenched with the moisture.
“Oh my god-” You’re all but limp by your second orgasm, letting it wrack your body mercilessly. “You were right-” Your breath hitches. “-ngh, m’cumming again, Kento. C-cumming—”
“Mmm, I know, madam.” Nanami grins, and you can feel it form against the tender folds of your pussy. Branding itself there. “I did that.”
He was mean.
You buck and you buck and you buck as he licks every crevice of your insides, and once he was done fucking you well n’ proper through your other high- the slicked tip of Nanami’s tongue slurps back in once again. As if to do it all over again.
He feels you clench ‘round him urgently, “A-again?” You ask, with a weepy tremble in your voice.
“Mmm, don’t think you can do it a third time?” Nanami gutturally groans out, “D’you wanna find- ngh, find out, hm?”
“Actually…” And he hangs onto your every word.
Your jittery fingers intertwine with his polished hair, tugging. Continuing where you left off, “I was thinking that m’ready for something else.” He looks on in something that almost looks like disbelief - desperation. As if he couldn’t believe that these words were really spilling out of your mouth. “Wan’ your cock, Kento.”
And something in him seems to…snap.
“A-as you wish, my lady.”
He bows to you, right then and there.
In practically no time - though, to Nanami who’d been waiting for centuries, it only felt like centuries more - you’re being pushed back on the mattress until your head softly nudges the headboard. Nanami heaves himself up on the bed.
And you can’t help but notice that for someone who always looked so prim and put-together, he looked absolutely gone.
Hair sticking up in multiple angles. Eyes half-lidded and drunk. Slick dribbling down the sides of his mouth and down his prominent Adam’s apple. It drops from his fangs, which have now elongated. And lecherously down the front of his suit, which was a darker color than it usually was- drenched in heaps of your mess. In heaps of his mess.
In quick, severe movements, Nanami takes his suit off. So fast and urgent that you can hear the whooshing sounds of the fabric attempting not to rip at the seams.
When it gets to his pants, your eyes drop down - it’s been a feast for the eyes with every layer that Nanami peeled away. First it revealed those broad, milky shoulders of his. Then it revealed his plush pecs, his ladder-like abs.
Until finally you were following the line of his sparse happy trail down to his thick, aching cock. And fuck- a few profanities leave your mouth, he was the biggest size you’ve ever seen.
Just about nine inches (perhaps ten), with a plethora of winding veins that made it look as though he’d feel like he was twelve. A thick hilt. Ready balls. And the fat mushroom tip of his cock was glazed in a glittery topping of precum, pulsing primally as the cold air hit him. Dripping.
“Anything you wish, my lady.”
Shivering at his serious tone of voice, you reach a hand up to your own collar-
Only to be halted in your tracks by an invisible force.
Nanami had one hand raised, his power surging. “Allow me.” He says, and with a harsh brush of his animalistic fingernails, he’s tearing your dress into shreds. Like butter under his touch. Easily falling apart.
Your dress to your bra, they fall into tatters. And the only thing left is your slick-flooded panties that he scrapes a hand down to tear off, as well.
Before stopping- and seeming to think better of it- “Actually.” Nanami starts, “Keep them on.”
Oh, he was being filthy.
He was being mean.
And before your hazy brain can even register it, your legs are being flapped open. Kept firmly apart by two of his soft hands, feather-light, he pins them to the mattress and lets his slick cockhead slide juuuuust between your pussylips.
Back and forth, back and forth. The weight of his throbbing girth only makes you grow even wetter, and you’re gasping by the time he’s glazed himself up ‘nough to start pushing in.
“Now-” Nanami hisses, fangs grit. His heated body hunches over, and sweat beads down from his forehead to yours. The first feeling of your pussy clamping all ‘round his rock-hard length, and Nanami is a broken man. Slamming his hand down on the top of the mahogany headboard. “Now, madam, we’re gonna have to breathe, alright? Breathe with me now-”
You gasp- “Fuck- fuck, you’re so big-”
“Mhmmm—c’mon, my lady, breathe with me.” And though he was almost falling apart at the seams, he found the ability to string together coherent-enough sentences. Seething. “Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in–”
In and out. In and out.
Just like the way that plush, pinkish tip of his was swabbin’ repeatedly- he was pumping out half-ruts, just trying to fit himself inside your pussy.
Opening you up wiiiidely—
You try to follow along with what he says, “Fuck-” But the stretch of the first inch of his cock fitting in was incredible, he was molding his way inwards. Shaping out your snug channel, “But how am I supposed to when you feel like- hah- that-”
“Awww, difficult, hm?” Nanami coos, empathetically. You nod, all teary-eyed and pretty taking his elongated shaft that he can’t help but let himself swell just a lil’ wider. Thicker.
You’re taking this change in size with a moan.
And he ponders to himself for a few more strokes, getting used to the warmth of your cunt. Before humming like he’d just been struck with an epiphany- and soon enough, Nanami’s holding out his strong, vein-covered forearm in front of your line of vision.
Murmuring, “Then bite on it.”
Your eyes widen, “What?” But before you know it, you’re already making use of the demon’s sinful little solution - the next inch that he’s somehow mazing inside you, you’re sinking your teeth into the golden flesh of his forearm and taking it.
“Mmm, just like that.” He pants, squeeze-squeeze-squeeeezing his way past your puckered folds. The globular front of his cock kisses either side of your walls, pinpointing specks of pre everywhere his fingers had touched just moments earlier. “Take it- take it take it take it- sloooow and easy. You’re doing so well, my lady.”
Sensually, he’s managing to let your ravenous cunt swallow up his inches.
And your sobs hitch after every stroke, it just felt like his fleshy tip was gracing your very lungs. You straddle his slim waist- tugging. “K-Kento…”
“Impatient, are we?” He raises a brow, “You have to take it easy, madam, if we want it to fit- breathe in. Breeeeathe in—”
And every time you did, he was shovelling in a few more inches. But the thing about Nanami Kento is that he made sure he tended to your every need; playfully rolling his thumb over your clit as he pumped himself into your hot core.
Which meant that he took things slow, took things at a pace that your feverishly needy mind was being infuriated by.
Without warning (though, later on, you’re sure that he’d sensed it coming and simply let you), you lock your ankles around his hips and pull-pull-pull him in.
And with that, his roverin’ wet shaft.
Bottoming out.
The headboard he’s holding onto cracks under the pressure.
You wanted him deep inside you. And Nanami can only respond by spitting out a line of swears that hits you in a scorching breeze, his face twisting into something of pure ecstasy. “O-oh.” Nanami’s voice stutters. Nanami’s voice cracks. “Ohhh, you shouldn’t have done that, my lady.”
And without further ado, he’s fucking you like a madman.
“Wanted to t-take it easy- you shouldn’t have done that-” He manages to spit out. Body shivering. His cock throbbing angrily right at the spongy platform of your cervix. “You r-really really…” Dazed, slightly, like his body was moving in water, he unhooks his palm from the now-splintered headboard. Then he throws those cute legs of yours over his deltoids.
Letting them lock firmly behind his sweaty neck, Nanami’s bending his ripped body doooooown. Folding you in half, too- you swear you’re hearing a few of your joints pop!
And Nanami’s only hazily gliding his palm down your limbs, a soothing coldness overcoming them. No broken bones on his watch (even if his body was moving before his mind right now). So there’s no excuse for why you can’t bend in half for him. No excuse for why he can’t press his sticky forehead to yours and drill his hips even harder.
No excuse for the way that rotund tip of his scrapes your cervix with a rapid thud! thud! thud! The tender curve of his ballsack strikes the front of your pussy all raw—
Your mouth waters with the impact, “Y-you’re reaching in so deep, ngh.” But of course he was: he had you manhandled until the caps of your knees hit your tits.
“Mmm, just how you like it- hm?” Nanami chuckles, though there’s a certain pleading tone in his voice. Those drunken, honeypool eyes of his are boring straight into yours, and he memorizes even the slightest expressions you’re making at the massage of his puffy cock. “It feels good? Feels great? Makin’ this pussy feels so- oh, loooovely like she deserves?”
“Yes-” You’re gasping, your throat hoarse at the feeling of his zig-zagged veins that just kept intruding into your deepest hidden crevices. “Yes yes yes yes- yes-”
Somehow, he always managed to find the area that your drippin’ wet cunt needed him the most. Just straightly heading his wet tip towards that spot, and pressing a thorough smooch that made you damn near scream into his mouth.
And it’s then that a sudden thought hits you.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” Nanami echoes- fuck, you’d almost forgotten that he could read minds. And with those demonic powers of his, he was echoing out a certain cockdrunken idea that you had. “So you want to know whether I can use my extra vision to hit your g-spot with my, mmm, cock, huh?”
Restless, you nod.
“And you know what you need to- d-do to have me fulfill your wishes—right, madam?” Uttering out - stumbling though his words.
Shit, even he was affected by the idea.
The ends of his tight fingertips shivering as you finally unfasten your mouth to ask- “C-can you please- ngh, use your powers to hit my g-spot, Kento?” And when you flutter those teary lashes of yours for effect?
Fuck, you might as well just call him a dead man (he was too far gone on your gushing cunt to register the fact that he, technically, wasn’t living).
Because with a sudden, concentrated surrender of his hips- Nanami perfectly angles the blushin’ red end of his shaft. That lil’ divot on the very end streamed out precum that made you splosh around from the inside, “Breathe in.” He rasps, thumb flitting down to press on your clit. “Breathe- out-”
“Oh- oh my–” More like you’re squealing out at the rough jab of his cockhead. The demon’s eyes activate into something glowing when he perfectly targets your needy g-spot.
Snickering. “Breathe in.”
You breathe in.
“Breathe-”
This time, he doesn’t even finish his damn sentence before letting the slit of his shaft snag your sweetest spot. You had so many cute, clingy ridges inside that he loves to stretch out with his sheer girth- and one of them was right by your g-spot that Nanami just kept rubbing and rubbing and rubbing all over.
Wadding out a mess of his precum until your walls likely looked like cobwebs from the inside- “You don’t know what you’re- hah, doing t’me, little mortal.” The fatness of his thumb rolls over your clit, making you see stars. “Have no idea. No- oh, have n-no idea.”
His free hand holds your quivering jaw, turning your face up to look at him and only him.
“You’ve made a demon fall in love with you, my lady. Tut tut.”
You’re squirming in his hold- he was losing control over his body. Unraveling at the seams. Rutting like an animal. Even the smooches of his hardened cock left your insides all bruised n’ battered, swat-swat-swat.
“And not only that—” Nanami continues, in his slightly breathy tone. You half-wondered whether he even knew what he was babbling away- “Oh- not quite, madam. I do apologize.” He answers your unspoken question.
Your breath catches - so he was pussydrunk enough to simply be prattling away. Unthinking.
The spit-slicked edges of his mouth gluing against yours, his tone was absolutely shattered as he mutters into your open maw. “But you’ve made me fall in love with your- your pussy, too.”
As if in response, your dampened cunt lets out some of the most lecherous noises. And you huff out a teasing giggle, “You’re talking as if this is your- mmm, first time, Kento—”
But Nanami doesn’t laugh.
Nanami doesn’t do anything but look at you so-very-seriously.
“W-wait-” Realization starts dawning on you, and you can feel your heartbeaten quicken as it sets in. “Don’t tell me…it really is your first time.” He grins…and nods. “And earlier with your mouth, too- was that-”
“But of course, madam.” The demon breathes, thoroughly ruined on your sweet, sweet pussy. “I did say that I have been waiting- mmm, centuries for you, no?”
Oh, shit.
If this was what he was like when he was inexperienced, then you almost feared to wonder just how good he’d be when he was experienced - with none other than you, you’re imagining. And as if to prove his point, he plunges and plunges his thickened shaft into you.
The plump circumference of his tip fitting against where he was causing your g-spot to indent—hollowing out with his rotund end.
In time with each of his thrusts, Nanami’s fingers pinch your perky clit. You were throbbing with need for him, and his mean thumb drew out so many things right on top of where you were most sensitive.
Swirls n’ hearts n’ his initials.
You could feel the branding of his name stinging against your core, each movement of his fingerpads creating the sloppiest slurps. “Oh, please-” Whimpering, you rut against his glissading abs. “Please please please please-”
“You can’t just say ‘please’ with no- mmm, command.” He chuckles to himself, as if you were the cutest thing in the world. “You have to tell me what you want. Your wish is my command.”
“I want you…”
“Yes—?”
And to utter these very words, you’re dragging him in closer. Touch burning. His breath laborious. You’re pulling Nanami in reeeeeal close and letting his straight nosebridge graze yours, lips tenderly touching yours. “Will you be cumming inside, Kento?”
He nuzzles the crook of your neck, “I shall do so as you wish. But first, don’t you know that you must give a demon permission to- take- a part of you?”
“So you can’t cum inside until I say the word?” You blink, a strange zap of power running through your body.
“That is so, madam.”
And oh- he’s pounding you into the aged bedsprings like he was trying to pound the words out of you. Thumb becoming frenzied on your clit, simply driving you wild. “I see- I- oh, ngh- I see-” A smirk stretches your lips, “And do you want to cum inside, Kento?”
“Not if you don’t wish for me to-” But just then, your cutely heart-shaped insides clench—and Nanami’s cutting himself off with a few rough swears. “Oh, f-fuck- yes.”
As you try to catch your breath, he’s completely losing his.
Again and again and again.
The lines of his veins throb n’ plaster against every ridge inside your velvety walls- “Yes, I do-” From the back of his throat, constant groans wrench. “I do I do I- do-” And each one was punctuated with the most probing jackhammers of his. “Oh, how badly I want to cum inside you.”
Before you can respond, his free hand drags down the front of your stomach. And he rests it easily where that lil’ bulge of his cockhead was thudding into your cervix.
“I need it. I desire it- I desire to stuff you full of my cum right h-here.” And then he presses down to put force on where his cylindrical length was tunneling. “I desire to see you all swollen with my seed, having taken so much that it has no place to go other than to drip onto the sheets.”
You’re squealing, feeling the world spin around you. “Oh- fuck. Please, m’not gonna last long-”
“I desire to feel every wad of cum of mine as I fuck you.” He gruffs out, “I desire to bind you to me forever-” Nanami leans in closer, as if he was whispering a secret to you. “-to let myself be truly yours. For eternity, this time.”
Sounding so pained.
“Let me cum inside, my lady-” He begs now. “I-inside. Let me cum inside, let me cum inside- please.”
“Yes- yes, I want it.” You crash your lips against his, feeling his fangs nip against your lower lip. “You can cum inside, Kento.”
And then with a final few thrusts, you’re exploding into your high.
So powerful that it results in your eyes clenching shut, white behind your vision. Back arching into his chest. You could hear the thundering of your pulse in your eardrums, right along with the husky, attractive groan of your name that Nanami lets off before he, too, finishes.
And you’re feeling it before you’re registering it.
That sultry splash! of something hot and wadded hitting the back of your pussy. It trickles all the way in lines down your cervix, and then ends up overflowing in your snug channel.
“Oh- oh, you’re really taking it.” Nanami’s hand presses down on your front, eyes activating. “Look at you—swallowing up every single drop. This pretty pussy of yours was- ngh, hungry, hm?”
“Shit, you’re so filthy.” You whine, clawing down his muscular back. And Nanami Kento only smiles like he knew it was true.
After all, he was feeling everything that he’d described earlier - the sploshing of webbed-up seed inside you, the way it glissaded down his shaft. Every line of his veins was coated in ivory sap, and the demon was fucking in each gluey wad inside you.
Your own high is overtaken by his - and you don’t know what else you expected: Nanami was cumming like he hadn’t in centuries.
Just bucketloads of cum that left your mind all stupidly hazy. With each quiver of your own pleasure, you could feel the clingy mess slipping out of your hole. It created this intricate white ring ‘round Nanami’s hilt that he’s thumbing away with a smile.
Pushing dooooooown- “S’taken.” Nanami breathes, somewhat in awe as he gazed down adoringly at where your womb was. With those powerful eyes of his. “Fuck yes, s’taken, my lady. I’m so proud of you.”
“You mean…?”
“Yes.”
“F-fuck.”
He watches as that white hot mess dribbles down his fingerpads, and he says—“Stick out your tongue, madam?”
Slightly befuddled in the aftermath of your high - nothing more than a few sensitive twinges at the pit of your stomach by now, oh, he’d dragged it out so perfectly with his ready cock - you do as he says. And in a few sultry seconds, Nanami has his cum-glazed thumb sticking in his own mouth. Said mouth of his edging even closer to yours to spit.
And then he kisses you fully.
You moan, shocked by his sinful, sinful antics.
And it’s only then that you start to feel a strange rush go down your skin. It’s only then that you feel atoms stop in attention around your body, where yours met his.
So caught up in the feeling, you barely even notice when Nanami finishes riding out his own high. Each n’ every ounce of his sap pushed thoroughly into your deepest innards. And he was so proud of it- no, you’re too caught up in the fact that you knew that.
In that fact that you knew he was proud.
You could sense it.
You could remember it: fragments of a time spent in this very mansion, that didn’t include the last few days. A flourishing garden where you stole kisses. Pale blond hair in the darkness of this very bedroom. The screams of the scullery as they found out. Blood. A new life. You remembered it - not all, it came to you slowly.
With a gasp, you’re pulling back to look at your hands; they looked as normal as always, except for a strange tingle of…something that left you feeling like you could smash this very bed frame if you tried to.
Wait- you turn your head to the mirror on the wall, only to find that…nothing was there. Nothing but the room, in all its emptiness.
For mirrors don’t reflect demons.
“You’ve made me a-” You gulp, and he purrs in affirmation. “-a demon.”
“I’ve contracted us for life, my lady.” Nanami responds, “Look here.”
He taps his index down on the spot where his palm had been plastered mere moments ago, where he was feeling for his cum sprayin’ out into your womb. And as you look down, you can see that your skin was emblazoned with a glowing purple mark of supernatural sorts. Swirling spirals and hearts: you were branded.
“And here.”
You raise your eyes to where Nanami had stuck his tongue out now- and there it was. A matching tattoo (symbol? Branding?) that matched the one you had, right in the middle of his tastebuds.
Two peas in a pod.
Two demons in a mansion.
You could feel the exact moment that Nanami’s cock throbbed at the fact that you were growing even wetter at the notion - a soul that was formerly yours, shared now, for eternity. And you’d spend it all with this handsome man, in a mansion that would never crumble.
“I can smell it on you—” Nanami snarls, canines showing as his lips twist into a feral snarl. He gives another squelching thrust, “We’re going to have a looooong few centuries to make up for, my lady. Mistress of the house.”
.
.
.
“Chapter 22: Fables From the Shadows - Nanami Mansion. (Cont’d)
And yet, the tale of the scorned heir is only one theory seeking to explain the existence of this deeply demonic yet tragic figure of Nanami Kento.
I think you will find, dear reader, that this author in particular is quite inclined to believe a much lesser-known theory. It is one slightly less blood-curdling, though with no less a flare of drama: the theory of the scorned lover.
Though most records of interviews with the original servants that served the Nanami Mansions have been lost to time, what few have been procured did speak of what has been aforementioned in this chapter. Yet, it is in the footnotes that the most jarring pieces of information start to reveal themselves.
They speak of a rather different character to the demon, Nanami Kento. A demonic yet agreeable character: sharp, sensible, no less human (or at least acted so) than the other humans that it worked alongside, keeping the mansion shining like a crown jewel.
And perhaps most representative of the demon’s humanity of all, was the way in which he fell - and quite hopelessly, it is said by one worker - for the daughter of the mansion’s master. Her name— And her wits, her laugh, her kindness seemed to have enraptured this demon. And it makes us think that, perhaps, even the most hellish creatures of all are asinine in the face of love.
Love makes a fool of us all.
And yet, there is a reason that demons do not fall in love.
For once this secret dalliance was discovered by the household, it is said that the master was enraged - till one could not tell the difference between human and demon. In the owner’s fitful anger, some say that the dishonored daughter was made a sacrifice of, others justify that she was discarded from the mansion, never to be seen again.
Whatever the result of misplaced love (perhaps it was not misplaced, after all, who are we, as mortals, to judge?), the demon had lost her.
And that loss manifested into grief, that grief manifested into anger. The once-proud stone pathway to the Nanami Mansions painted itself red, and it has not had a master since.
They say that Nanami Kento still roams the empty halls, and keeps the house a home, in wait of his lost lover.
As for the fate of them, only time will tell.
Do you believe in reincarnation, o’ mortal? For, demons certainly do. And if a soulless being could not love a mortal centuries ago, perhaps there is hope that her soul may find him once more. Whether by accident, or by chance, or by fate altogether. Demons always are quite stubborn.
And perhaps, this time, they may love one another as two souls who have ever loved one another should. As one.
This author, in particular, chooses to believe that their souls are already one. For there is a home for every lost soul, doors and arms wide open.”
—Of Demons and Servitude: The Hellish Agelong Contracts That Surpass Love by Sebastian Michaelis.
A/N. Was technically supposed to be posted last month but ah-
「pairing」 : softdom!seonghwa x virginfem!reader x dom!yunho
「word count」 : 3.5k
「genre」 : smut, threesome
「summary」 : after years of failing to lose your virginity, you settle for a sex club. two men there give you the best night of your life.
「warnings」 : sex club, alcohol consumption, threesome, virginity loss, praise, degradation, kissing, fingering, hickies, titty sucking, clit play, oral (m and f), choking if you squint, yunho likes you vocal, big dick yunho and seonghwa, spit as lube, painful(?) first time, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, humiliation(?), pet names including baby, doll, little thing, darling, sweet thing
「author's note」 : based on this request! i hope you guys like it lol
the club was never really somewhere you thought you’d ever go. or even want to go for that matter. especially not a sex club.
after years and years of trying to find the right guy to lose your virginity to, it began to feel hopeless. so what better way to do it than with someone who is a borderline professional? a no strings attached, one and done situation. that’s all it’s going to be. just to relieve your sexual frustration for the night, and never go back.
the place is off of 23rd street. some joint your friend recommended after hearing you complain about your failed talking stages for the hundredth time. said something about “being in the know.”
security was strict and the sign up process was pretty in-depth, which kind of eased your nerves about who was allowed to participate.
the woman at the front helps you kindly, sensing your confusion. but when you walk past the desk, it is nothing like you imagined. though you adhere to the theme, you stick out like a sore thumb, easily being the most modestly dressed person in the building.
the theme is lace. you wore a black lace lingerie set that you had fantasized about wearing too many times, and a short sheer dress to go on top.
the lounge is dimly lit, smells expensive and faintly like alcohol. people are moving around like it’s their second nature, and you choose to take a seat at the bar - something to calm your nerves.
that’s when you see them.
not that you were searching, but more because they were kind of hard to miss. it’s two men sitting in an alcove along the far wall, and a bottle of pricy champagne on ice sitting between their glasses.
the taller one notices you first. his brown hair lazily pushed back with a hint of gel, his cheeks already red from the alcohol, and dark eyes that find yours across the room without any particular urgency. he looks like he has all the time in the world and is simply deciding whether to use it on you.
he says something to the one beside him.
and then there are two pairs of eyes on you.
the second one is different. softer-looking, maybe, but there’s something behind it - something comforting in the way he tilts his head when he sees you. like he already knows you’re nervous. and that’s okay.
you look down at your drink.
this was a mistake.
but before you can talk yourself into leaving, someone is beside you.
“what’s your name?”
his voice was low. it was the second guy you had spotted. up close he’s even more disarming. he doesn’t look at you the way you expected to be looked at here. not like a transaction.
“it’s y/n.” you share with a small smile.
“i’m seonghwa,” he says. “and that’s yunho.” a small gesture toward the alcove. yunho lifts his chin in acknowledgment, still seated, still unhurried. “first time?”
“i…uh…. yeah. first time.” the words fall out of your mouth before you even have a second to think.
“that’s good to know,” seonghwa says, and he means it simply. “we can help take care of you properly.”
he can sense your hesitation and nerves in the way you fiddle with the base of your glass.
“you don’t have to decide anything right now,” he adds. “we can just talk first.”
so you do.
seonghwa settles on a barstool next to you and orders something for himself, and tops of your glass while he’s at it. the conversation starts easier than you expected. he asks you small things. where you’re from. what you do. whether you’ve ever been to this part of the city before. just talking.
yunho joins maybe ten minutes in. doesn’t announce himself, just sits on your other side and signals the bartender with two fingers. closer up, he’s even taller than you clocked from across the room. broad shoulders, that easy flush still sitting high on his cheeks. he smells like cedar and that expensive champagne.
“she’s funny,” seonghwa tells him, like you’re not sitting right there.
“i can hear you,” you say.
yunho’s mouth pulls at the corner. “he means it as a compliment.”
“i know how to give compliments,” seonghwa says, not even defensive about it.
“you really don’t,” yunho replies, and just like that, the two of them are bickering over your head and somehow it’s the most at ease you’ve felt since you walked through the door.
the night keeps moving on, and keeps getting easier and easier to be around them two.
at some point you stop noticing the other people in the room. stop noticing the music, or the low lighting, or the way your dress felt too modest an hour ago. the nervousness doesn’t disappear exactly, but it shifts into something else.
yunho is watching you explain something - you’ve lost track of what - and there’s a particular kind of attention in his expression that makes it hard to finish your sentence.
“you okay?” seonghwa asks. his voice is quieter now.
“yeah.”
he tilts his head the same way he did from across the room. “you’re not what i expected tonight.”
“is that a good thing?”
he exchanges a glance with yunho. something passes between them but you don’t entirely know what it was.
“yeah,” yunho says, answering for both of them. his eyes drop briefly - just briefly - to your mouth, and then back up. unhurried, like everything else about him. “it’s a very good thing.”
you reach for your glass and realize it’s empty. neither of them moves to fill it this time.
“we don’t have to stay out here,” seonghwa says softly. no pressure in it.
and you think about the girl who almost talked herself into leaving.
“okay.”
——-
the room they lead you to is nothing like what the word room usually conjures. it’s warm. that’s the first thing. warm and quiet in a way that feels intentionally separating you from the rest of the lounge. there’s a low amber light coming from somewhere you can’t point out, and the furniture is dark and soft-looking, and everything about it feels comforting in a sense.
you stand near the doorway for a moment.
yunho doesn’t rush you. he moves to the small counter along the wall and pours water from a glass and sets one on the table nearest to you without a word.
“you can tell us anything,” seonghwa says, moving from the doorway. “if something doesn’t feel right, you say so.”
“and we stop,” yunho adds simply.
you nod.
“i just-” you start, and then pause, because you’re not really sure how to finish it.
“take your time,” seonghwa says.
“i haven’t done this before.” you say it to the middle distance somewhere between them. “any of it. not just - not just this. all of it.”
a beat of quiet.
yunho looks at you steadily. “we know.”
“does that change things?” you ask. and what you mean is does that make this worse. does that make me more trouble than i’m worth. does that make you look at me differently.
“it just means that we will go slow,” seonghwa confirms, coming around the side of your body to meet your eyes. “that’s all it means.”
you start to untangle inside. they can’t see it, you can definitely feel it.
yunho steps a little closer with his hand meeting your waist, and your nervousness starts to fade into something else. desire.
seonghwa’s hand comes to rest at your hip from the other side. and for the first time all night, you stop thinking about every version of yourself that almost didn’t come.
“can i?” seonghwa’s fingers find the thin strap of your sheer dress.
you nod.
he slips it off your shoulders slowly, and it pools at your feet without a sound. and you’re standing there in the black lace you’d imagined wearing a hundred times before tonight, and it feels nothing like you thought it would. it feels better.
yunho’s gaze studies your body slowly, and his expression immediately shifts. “you’re beautiful,” he says. and it doesn’t sound like something he’s said before. it sounds like something he’s just now figuring out.
seonghwa tilts your chin up gently with one finger, and his eyes search yours for a moment like he’s doing a last check.
“still okay?” he murmurs.
“yeah,” you say. “please…kiss me.”
his mouth curves. and then he closes the space between you, and his lips meet yours, gentle at first, like a question that already knows its answer. yunho’s hand moves to the small of your back, steadying you without pulling.
your lips melt into his, falling into a rhythm that starts to make heat pool in your body. his fingers find their way into your scalp, barely gripping to get a better angle.
yunho’s mouth falls to the side of your neck and he presses his large frame into your back. he sucks on the sensitive spot just below your ear, leaving a purple mark in its wake.
“we will take very good care of you,” yunho whispers, dragging his lips back up to your ear. his large hands snake around your body and grip both of your breasts, making you moan into seonghwa’s mouth.
seonghwa swallows your moan and uses it as a chance to slide his tongue between your lips. he tastes sweet, addictive, and you can’t help but to want more. your tongues dance across each other in a comfortable rhythm, and his hands slide down your body, to grip your ass.
without pulling away, you toy with the buttons on seonghwa’s shirt, undoing each one until you can pull it off his shoulders. revealing his chest, it was perfectly defined, along with deliciously toned biceps.
your fingers trace the smooth lines of his body, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palms as you push the shirt completely off. he shrugs it away without breaking the kiss, his tongue diving deeper into your mouth, exploring every inch with a hunger that matches the growing ache between your thighs.
yunho's grip on your breasts tightens just enough to send sparks through your body, his thumbs circling your hardening nipples through the fabric of your bra. he nips at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. "that's it, let us hear you," he murmurs, his voice low and rough, vibrating against your neck.
breaking away for a breath, seonghwa trails his mouth down your jaw, sucking lightly on your pulse point while his fingers work at the hem of your bra. he undoes the hooks, and yunho helps by sliding the straps down your shoulders. cool air hits your bare skin, but it's quickly replaced by the heat of their bodies surrounding you.
yunho's palms return to your now-exposed breasts, cupping them fully, his large hands engulfing you as he pinches your nipples between his fingers. the sharp pleasure makes your hips buck forward, grinding against seonghwa instinctively. he groans, his mouth moving lower to capture one of your nipples in a wet kiss, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.
“these need to go,” he grazes his fingertips across the waistband of your panties, and yunho mirrors his action, sliding them down your legs in one quick motion.
their hands return to your hips, hands roaming all over the area.
yunho's hand slips between your legs from behind, his fingers brushing your slick folds. he circles your clit slowly, making you jolt. his other arm bands around your waist to hold you steady. "our baby is so wet already.”
his fingers slide to tease the entrance of your hole, collecting the wetness. “can i put them in?” he whispers.
“mmmm yes, please go slow,” you whine.
“of course, darling,” he affirmed, sliding his middle finger in oh so slowly.
your mouth falls agape, and your head leans forward onto seonghwa’s shoulder, an instant reaction to the unfamiliar pleasure. your breathing becoming obviously heavier and more shaky.
yunho could sense that you were feeling good and added in another finger, making sure to massage them across your most sensitive patch.
“nghh,” you muffle yourself in seonghwa’s flesh.
yunho’s other hand wraps around your neck and pulls you away from seonghwa. “don’t hide now, we want to hear how good we are making you feel,” he growls against your ear.
seonghwa straightens up, his lips shiny from your sucking on your breasts, and starts unbuckling his belt. he pops the button on his pants and shoves them down, kicking them aside. his cock strains against the fabric of his boxers, a clear outline of its thick length pressing forward. he palms himself through the material, stroking once as he watches you.
yunho follows suit, removing his fingers, making you grip around nothing. he stands, towering over you, and yanks his shirt over his head, revealing a chiseled chest. his pants come next, sliding down his legs until he's in briefs that do little to hide his hardening length. he steps closer, his hand replacing seonghwa's on your hip.
now fully naked, they guide you to lie back on the plush lounge seat, leaving your heart pounding. seonghwa sheds his boxers, his cock springing free - heavy and veined, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. he strokes it slowly, eyes locked on your bare pussy. yunho strips off his briefs last, his shaft even thicker, curving slightly as it stands rigid against his abs.
seonghwa kneels between your legs, slowly parting them with his large hands. you are nervous at first, trying to close your legs back together and hide your face. “don’t be shy baby, just let me make you feel good,” he reassures, parting them again.
he peppers kisses on your thighs starting from your knees, making their way up to your heat. he rests his palm and brushes his thumb your folds, grazing across your slick bundle of nerves.
you let out a low moan from the contact, and seonghwa looks up to meet your eyes. “you’re a sensitive little thing, aren’t you, darling?” he smiles teasingly.
without even waiting for a response, he dips his tongue down on your clit, sucking on it slowly, trying to gauge your reaction. when he sees that you have covered your mouth with your hand to try to muffle yourself, he continues.
his tongue laps between your folds at a pace that is not overwhelming, but just enough to keep you wanting more. yunho walks around to the head of the seat and forces your hand away from your lips.
“didn’t think i was going to let this hole go unused, did you?” he teased, running his thumb across your bottom lip. you look up at him with doe eyes as the head of his cock nudges your lips apart.
he pushes in carefully, though that doesn’t stop the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. his fingers trail through your hair, holding the back of your head for leverage. not pulling, but guiding. “you’ve sucked cock before, right?”
you nod in response, sucking him deeper, your tongue swirling around the underside. the salty taste of him filled your mouth, and you hollowed your cheeks, drawing a guttural moan from yunho.
seonghwa continues to suck on your clit, now adding two of his fingers inside. he drags his tongue down to your entrance, meeting with his fingers to taste your slick as his nose brushes across your clit.
“sweet thing,” yunho coos, cupping your cheek in his palm. he pushed his dick further back into your throat, until his pelvis meets your nose. the lewd choking sounds coming from you only make him more desperate.
but once he sees seonghwa pull away, he slips himself out of your mouth. hwa leans up, gripping his length in his hand, sliding the head across your folds to collect the slick.
“are you ready?” he asks, nudging against your entrance.
“mhmm,” you nod.
“words, doll”
“yes, please. i want it, seonghwa.”
he spits down onto your already soaked pussy, using his thumb to rubs it into your hole, as well as across your clit.
the extra lubricant allows him to slide in easily, your wall immediately sucking him in further. you wince at the pain at first, trying to adjust to the stretch. the look on your face indicates to seonghwa to go slower, which he respects.
“you’re doing good, baby. just let him in a little bit more.” yunho angles your face up to his, soft kisses following his affirmations.
"breathe, baby," he coos, pausing until you relax around him. "just like that." once seonghwa bottoms out, he stays still for a few moments, allowing you to adjust to the burn of the stretch. he moves his hips slowly, trying not to overwhelm you as he pulls back out.
"fuck, so perfect," seonghwa whispers, starting a gentle rhythm - shallow thrusts that build gradually. each slide sends sparks through you, your body adapting and craving more. yunho breaks the kiss, shifting to kneel beside you, his hand wrapping around his thick shaft as he strokes himself, watching seonghwa fuck you.
seonghwa picks up pace, hips snapping forward with controlled power once he has given you time to adjust. his cock drags along your sensitive spots as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, the lounge seat creaking under the motion.
yunho leans down, his free hand pinching your nipple as he growls, "look at you, taking his dick so well. our girl’s not so innocent anymore."
moans weren’t even coming out of your mouth. it was just whimpers and sounds of desperation. your hands grab on to seonghwa’s wrists as he fucks into you, your nails digging into his flesh.
your walls clenching around hwa drive him closer and closer to the edge. sweat starts to bead up on his forehead and his strokes become more sloppy with each passing second.
"gonna fill you up, doll," he warns, and with a final, deep plunge, hot spurts of cum flooding inside of you, triggering your release too. you clench around him, milking every drop as waves of pleasure crash over.
seonghwa pulls out slowly, a mix of your juices and his seed leaking from you. before you can recover, yunho moves in, flipping you gently onto your hands and knees. "my turn to fuck this pretty pussy" he says, voice husky.
his hands grip your hips, cock teasing your entrance, still slick and sensitive. he enters you in one smooth thrust, thicker than seonghwa, stretching you to your limits. you cry out, pushing back against him instinctively. seonghwa kneels in front, guiding your head to his softening cock, still glistening. "clean me up," he suggests, and you take him into your mouth, tasting the salty mix of cum and your own arousal.
yunho fucks you steadily from behind, each slap of skin against skin jolting you forward onto seonghwa. his curve hits just right, brushing that bundle of nerves. you suck harder, hollowing your cheeks, earning a groan from seonghwa as he hardens again in your mouth.
"fuck, your mouth feels amazing," seonghwa praises, threading fingers through your hair. yunho's pace quickens, one hand reaching around to rub your clit in tight circles. the overstimulation builds to a fever pitch, your body trembling on the edge once more.
“say you like my cock. say you love how good we make you feel,” yunho demands, bunching your hair into a ponytail, now pulling you away from seonghwa.
“it f-feels so good, yuyu,” you manage to piece the words together.
you can’t help but to come undone around yunho's cock, throbbing length as your walls flutter and squeeze. “wanna breed this tight cunt, your greedy pussy keeps sucking me back in” he moans, his peak approaching quickly.
a few more deep strokes and he buries himself deep and pumps you full of his release, grunting with each spurt. each movement creates a ring of white around the base of his cock from both of their releases. he finally pulls all the way out, making an exaggerated pop sound.
seonghwa was the first to move, his hands gentle as he eased you onto your back, cradling your head in his lap. “you did so well, taking us both like that,” he whispered, his voice soft and reassuring. he brushed sweat-dampened hair from your face, his fingers tracing light patterns along your warm cheeks.
yunho joined him, fetching a soft towel from the room's side table and wiping away the mess between your legs with carefully, avoiding your oversensitive folds to prevent any sting.
“thank you for taking care of me,” you admitted looking at yunho, then turning to nuzzle into seonghwa’s abdomen.
yunho sat next to you, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “thank you for trusting us.”
with that, you exchange contact information, and the ‘one and done’ deal is completely ruined.
cw: explicit, M/M/M/F foursome, double penetration, aphrodisiac use, three guys fighting over who gets to make you come next.
Foursome Definition: It’s the visual and physical opposite of the clean, linear Eiffel Tower: instead of a simple line, it’s a dense, sweaty, multi-layered pile where you’re in the center, completely surrounded and filled with cock from all angles at once.
It’s another Friday, 9 PM. The four of you are sprawled around Nanami’s living room—his low table covered in takeout containers, fairy lights strung up because you insisted last month it “makes the vibe less depressing.” The TV’s on some mindless action flick nobody’s watching.
You’re in the middle of the couch between a slouched Kusakabe, already on his third beer and Higuruma still clocked in reading case files. Nanami’s across from you on the armchair, still in his dress shirt.
The conversation drifts, as it always does, to dumb shit. Kusakabe smirks, holding up a small foil packet like it’s contraband. “Yo. Remember that gas station in Shinjuku? They had these honey packs behind the counter. ‘Royal Honey VIP’ or some bullshit. Said it makes you go all night.”
Higuruma doesn’t even look up. “You bought aphrodisiacs from a konbini. Classy.”
“Four of ’em,” Kusakabe says proudly, tossing packets to each of you. “One for everybody. C’monn I just wanna see if it even does anything, but I doubt it will. Might as well test the theory.”
Nanami makes a long-suffering sigh of a man who’s spent two decades corralling these idiots—but he catches his anyway. “This is idiotic.”
You laugh, turning yours over. “Come on, Kento. Live a little. We’ve done stupider things.” He meets your eyes. “Fine. But if I end up in the ER, I’m billing all of you.”
They all rip theirs open at the same time. Thick, sweet honey squeezed onto tongues. It tastes like expensive cough syrup, fucking disgusting.
You’re still sandwiched between Kusakabe and Higuruma on the couch, legs kicked up across Kusakabe’s lap because he claimed “more room” like an asshole. Nanami’s back in the armchair, shirt mostly open now, one ankle crossed over his knee.
“Man,” he drawls, scratching lazily at his stomach under his shirt, “this shit’s hitting different. I feel like I could bench-press a car. Or fuck through a wall.”
You snort. “Romantic.”
Higuruma doesn’t look up from where he’s idly swirling the last of his beer. “You already talk like you could fuck through a wall on a normal Tuesday.”
“Jealousy’s a bad look on you, Hiromi,” Kusakabe fires back, grinning wide. He stretches, arms over the back of the couch, deliberately crowding you more. His thigh presses hot against yours. “But seriously. You guys ever think about how unfair dick genetics are?”
Nanami raises one perfect eyebrow. “We’re doing this now?” “We’re absolutely doing this now,” you say, grinning as you nudge Kusakabe with your elbow. “Go on. Enlighten us.”
Kusakabe takes the invitation to brag. “Look—I’m just saying some of us got blessed, some of us got… adequate.” He side-eyes Higuruma. “No offense.”
Higuruma finally sets the beer down. “None taken. I’ve never had complaints.”
“Exactly,” Kusakabe says, pointing at him like he’s making a winning argument. “You’re long. Elegant. Lawyer dick. Probably slides in like butter. Me? I gotta do warm-up drills.”
You laugh so hard your head tips back against the couch. “Warm-up drills?”
“Yeah. Foreplay for like twenty minutes minimum or it’s game over. Girls either tap out or cry—happy tears, obviously.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Big-dick problems.”
Nanami pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re insufferable.”
“You love me,” Kusakabe says cheerfully. Then he turns to you, suddenly conspiratorial. “C’mon, princess. You’ve seen all of us change in locker rooms and shit back in the day. Be honest. Scale of one to ‘monster cock,’ where we ranking?”
You pretend to think, tapping your chin. “I think Hiromi’s got length—like, porn-star proportions. Kento is definitely thick like can’t wrap your hand around it ‘girthy’,” You shoot Kento a wink. “And you Atsuya…” You drag it out just to watch him squirm. “are stupid thick at the base and stupid long everywhere else.”
Kusakabe beams like you just handed him a trophy. “See? Told you. Big-dick problems.”
Higuruma rolls his eyes but there’s a faint smirk. “And yet you still complain more than anyone.”
“Because it’s a curse!” Kusakabe throws his hands up. “Last girl I tried to hook up with—cute little bartender from that spot in Shibuya? We get to her place, clothes off, she’s all ‘yes, yes, fuck me’—then I line up and…” He makes a dramatic wince. “Nope. Too tight. Wouldn’t even take the head.”
You raise both brows. “You’re bragging about not fitting?”
“I’m bragging about the reason,” he corrects, smug as hell. “She was soaked, ready, begging—and still my dick was like ‘nah, we’re good right here.’ Had to finger her open for ten minutes straight before she could even think about taking it. And even then she was whimpering the whole time. ‘It’s too big, Atsuya, it’s too big—’” He drops his voice into a breathy imitation, then grins. “Music to my fuckin’ ears. She was into it. Left scratches down my back. Texted me the next day asking when round two was. I just… need a girl who can handle the whole package, y’know?”
You’re laughing again, half horrified, half turned on because the honey’s making you feel horny as fuck. “So what, you’re saying you need a custom pussy?”
“Basically.” He shrugs shamelessly. “But yeah. Big-dick tax.”
Higuruma snorts softly, leaning back. His slacks are tenting noticeably now—the honey working fast—and he doesn’t bother hiding it. “You talk like you invented the concept,” Higuruma says dryly. “Every guy with more than average girth thinks he’s suffering uniquely. Newsflash: most women don’t need a warm-up marathon unless the guy sucks at foreplay.”
Kusakabe clutches his chest in mock offense. “Excuse you, I’m a gentleman. I do the full ritual—kissing, fingering, clit worship, the works. Still gotta ease in though. You wouldn’t get it.”
Nanami, who’s been quietly nursing his beer finally speaks up, “You’re both overselling it. Size is irrelevant if technique is garbage.” He meets your eyes again, “And technique can make even ‘adequate’ feel overwhelming.”
“Oh-ho,” Kusakabe says, catching the shift in Nanami’s tone. “Kento’s getting defensive. What’s the matter? Worried your ‘perfect girth’ isn’t enough to win first place?”
Nanami laughs, arching one brow, “I don’t need to win anything. I know what I’m working with.”
“Exactly my point!” Kusakabe throws his head back laughing. “We’re all walking around pretending we don’t compare but let’s stop bullshitting.” He sits up straighter, suddenly serious—or as serious as Kusakabe ever gets. “I know I’ve got the biggest dick in this room. Hands down. Length, girth, the full combo. But words are cheap.”
He looks around at the three of you, eyes gleaming with challenge. “So prove me wrong. Or let me prove it. Right here. Right now.”
You blink. “You want to… what? Whip them out and measure?”
Kusakabe shrugs like it’s the most logical next step. “Why not? We’re all adults. Let’s settle this like men.” He grins wider. “Or like horny idiots who took sketchy gas station supplements—Fuck me,” he mutters, palm already drifting down to adjust himself through his sweatpants. “This shit’s no joke.”
You snort-laugh, heat crawling up your neck. “You’re actually doing this now?”
Higuruma tilts his head toward you, eyes half-lidded. “He’s been waiting for an excuse since middle school. Might as well settle it.”
Nanami pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is the most undignified conversation we’ve ever had. And we’ve had some bad ones.”
Kusakabe grins ferally. “C’mon. Pants off. We compare, then we… test compatibility.” He waggles his eyebrows at you. “You get final vote.”
“Okay… hold up.” Your voice comes out higher than you meant it to. You sit up straighter, legs still slung over Kusakabe’s lap, suddenly hyper-aware of how close his hand is to the seam of your shorts. “You’re seriously proposing this, a dick measuring contest?”
Kusakabe’s grin gets wider, “Yup.” Higuruma lets out an amused huff, “To be fair, you did rank us already.”
“Yeah, but that was theoretical!” You gesture wildly at the three of them. “This is… this is practical application. Like, actual dicks. Out. In the open. For science.”
Nanami’s voice is taunting, “And apparently for your entertainment.”
You shoot him a look and he just raises one perfect eyebrow like you started this. “I mean…” You drag a hand down your face, trying to sound reasonable even though you were fucking so soaked. “This is insane. This is so insane. We’re grown adults. We have jobs. We pay rent. Kusakabe probably has a dentist appointment next week.”
“Thursday,” Kusakabe supplies helpfully. “See? Normal people shit!” You point at him accusingly. Then you drop your hand and exhale hard. “But also… fuck.”
All three of them go still, waiting.
You chew your bottom lip for one more second, then let out a shaky laugh that’s mostly nerves and lust. “Damn it. I’m so fucking wet right now I can feel it on my thighs. And you three just spent the last fifteen minutes talking about how big your dicks are. So yeah. Fine. Whip ’em out. Let’s do the stupid comparison. Because apparently my dignity left ten minutes ago.”
Kusakabe lets out a triumphant “YES!” and immediately shoves his sweatpants down to his knees without another word. His cock slaps up against his stomach already glistening at the tip. The rest follow suit.
“Okay, c'mere boys," you say, sliding off the couch to your knees in front of them. The rug is soft under your shins. You’re eye-level with three very hard, very different cocks, and the visual alone makes your clit throb. “Let’s see.”
Kusakabe steps up first—cocky as ever. He’s thickest: heavy, girthy, maybe 8.2 to 8.5 inches but the width makes your mouth water instantly. Veins prominent, head flushed dark. He strokes himself once, smirking. You wrap your hand around him—fingers don’t quite meet. Not bad I guess, you think to yourself.
Next, Nanami. You have to use both hands again. One around the base—fuck, it’s wide—and the other higher up the shaft. Definitely 8.5 to 8.8 inches. It’s long enough that there’s still room to stroke. The head is flushed angry red, already slick. You give an experimental squeeze and he groans, hips jerking forward.
Higuruma last. Longest by a noticeable margin—8.7–9 inches, slimmer than the other two but with that elegant upward curve and a slight left lean. His cock would definitely bulge through. Darker shaft, flushed head glistening. He tilts your chin up with two fingers while you stroke him experimentally. “You pick a winner yet?”
You wrap a hand around each of them—Kusakabe in your left, Nanami in your right, Higuruma guiding your mouth first. “Too close,” you mumble against the head of Higuruma’s cock before licking a stripe up. “Need… more data.”
Kusakabe laughs already stroking the base of himself while he watches your tongue flick over Higuruma again. “Fuck, beautiful. You’re gonna kill us before we even start.”
You shoot him a mischievous look, then turn your head and take Nanami into your mouth instead, letting your lips stretch wide around that fat head. He hisses through his teeth, one hand immediately sinking into your hair. “Damn.” Nanami mutters, You hum around him in agreement, the vibration making his thighs flex. Then you pop off strings of spit connecting your lips to his tip.
“See? Data.” You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning up at them. “Nanami wins on stretch. My jaw’s already sore and I’ve barely started.”
Higuruma’s long fingers slide into your hair next, guiding you back toward him “Then let’s see how deep you can take length.”
You open for him willingly, tongue flat, relaxing your throat as he feeds inch after inch past your lips. Your eyes water almost immediately. When your nose brushes the neat dark hair at his base you moan, loud and shameless, the sound muffled around his cock. “Good girl,” he murmurs, thumb stroking the corner of your mouth where it’s stretched tight. “Look at you. Taking it so well.” You pull off gasping, spit shining on your chin, eyes glassy. “Okay—fuck—Higuruma wins depth.”
Kusakabe’s had enough of being patient. He steps in closer, fat cock nudging your cheek. “My turn. C’mon, baby.” You laugh because god he’s so impatient and wrap both hands around him again. Even with two hands there’s still shaft left to stroke. You lean in, licking a broad stripe from balls to tip, tasting salt and precome. Then you try. You really fucking try. The head pops past your lips with a stretch that makes your eyes flutter shut. You get maybe halfway before your jaw protests and your throat says nope. You gag softly, pull back, try again—deeper this time—tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
Kusakabe groans like he’s dying. “Fuck—fuck—look at that. Trying so hard for me.”
You manage another inch, cheeks hollowed, before you have to pull off completely, coughing, laughing, wiping your eyes. Kusakabe pulls out of your mouth, flips you onto all fours. Nanami slides underneath so you’re straddling him, sinking down onto his thick length with a gasp. Kusakabe notches at your ass—slowly careful with spit and leftover slick—then pushes in.
You’re already so full from Nanami’s thick cock buried to the hilt in your pussy; every tiny shift of your hips grinds you down harder on him, the fat head nudging against your cunt. “Fuck—breathe, baby,” Kusakabe rasps, one big hand splayed across the small of your back, thumb rubbing soothing circles even as his hips keep that slow, inexorable slide. “You’re doing so good. Taking both of us so perfect.” You can’t answer. Your mouth is open on a silent scream, forehead dropping to Nanami’s shoulder. His hands come up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing away the tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.
“Look at me,” he murmurs, You lift your head just enough to meet his gaze and he kisses you while Kusakabe sinks another inch deeper. Kusakabe finally bottoms out his hips flush against your ass, balls heavy against your skin. You feel impossibly stuffed, both cocks rubbing against each other inside you. You break the kiss with a sob. “Oh my god—oh my god—I can feel you both—fuck—”
Higuruma has been patient, kneeling beside the bed, stroking himself long and slow while he watches. He climbs up behind Kusakabe so he can reach you. Long fingers thread into your hair, tilting your head back gently. “Open,” he says. You do immediately, your eager mouth falling wide as he guides that elegant length past your lips. You're a whimpering mess as the three of them find a rhythm almost too quickly, like they’ve done this before in some fever-dream fantasy.
Nanami rolls his hips up in shallow, grinding thrusts—never pulling out far, just enough to drag that thick ridge along your front wall over and over. Kusakabe matches him from behind, pulling out halfway and sliding back in. You whine around Higuruma’s cock and he pulls out just enough to let you speak. “Please—” The word comes out slurred, spit-slick. “Please—more—need—” Higuruma strokes your cheek with his thumb, “More what, sweetheart?”
You can’t think. Can’t form full sentences. “Need… to come—please—fuck me harder—need all of you—”
Kusakabe laughs, “Hear that? Princess wants it harder.” Nanami’s eyes flick up to meet the others—some silent agreement passing between them and then they move.
Nanami plants his feet on the floor and thrusts up harder, deeper, that thick cock bullying against your g-spot before pulling out as does Kusakabe. Leaving you clenching around nothing. Your hips twitch up instinctively, chasing the contact, and a confused little “wha—?” slips out. You blink, dazed and still throbbing. “Wait… what are you guys doing?”
Kusakabe huffs a low laugh, already shifting down the couch again. “Change of plans, princess.”
“Huh?” Your voice cracks, high and needy. You prop yourself up on your elbows, thighs still trembling, “You were literally about to—”
“We were,” Nanami cuts in, leans over you, caging you with one arm braced beside your head. “But then we realized something.”Higuruma finishes for him, “You haven’t come hard enough yet.”
Your brain short-circuits for a second. “I literally just—”
“Nah not like that,” Kusakabe interrupts, already settling back between your legs, his big hands hook under your knees and spread you wider. You open your mouth to protest—something about how you’re already sensitive, but Higuruma silences you with a kiss. “Let us spoil you a little longer,” he murmurs. “You deserve it.”
Before you can form another coherent thought, Kusakabe seals his mouth over your clit and sucks hard. Your back bows off the couch, hands flying to his hair as you moan into Hiromi’s mouth. Nanami moves to your left nipple, taking it between his lips and rolling it gently with his tongue while his hand cups the other breast, thumb flicking the peak.
Every pull of his mouth makes your hips grind up against Kusakabe’s face. Atsuya’s tongue starts flicking fast over your swollen clit, while Hiromi breaks the kiss only to trail his mouth down your throat, sucking another dark bruise into the soft skin just above your collarbone while his long fingers slide down to join Kusakabe between your thighs before Hiromi physically pushes him aside. Atsuya lets out an indignant “Oi—!” but he’s already being shoved to the side, sliding off the couch edge with an amused grin. Higuruma takes his place settling between your thighs. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and buries his face into you. He laps his tongue through your folds as Kento continues to switch between sucking your tits and giving you love bites while Kusakabe grips your hair forcing you to look up at him.
You’re about to come until the fucker pulls off, his eyes flicking up to meet Nanami’s over your body. “Your turn, Kento.” Nanami releases your nipple with a soft pop, pressing one last kiss to the peak before shifting down. Higuruma moves aside without protest, sliding up to claim your mouth instead as Atsuya moves onto your breasts now. Kento takes a second to admire how you’re glistening, swollen, dripping down your ass and onto the couch. What a fuckin’ sight. He flattens his tongue against your overstimulated cunt and flicks tiny precise strokes on your clit. “Fuck—Kento—wait—I’m gonna—” Your voice cracks, but he doesn’t stop. You come so hard your eyes tear up. You squirt hard, soaking Nanami’s chin, his chest, and the couch beneath you. Atsuya looks at you in awe, “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. You gushed like a goddamn fountain.”
Hiromi helps you sit up while Kusakabe pulls you half into his lap, back against his chest, thick arms caging you. Nanami kneels close, one hand on your thigh as he continues to eat you out. Kusakabe groans like he’s in pain, stroking himself faster. “Fuck, Kento, don’t hog her. I wanna feel that pussy too.”
They stroke themselves in sync on you as you attempt to stop trembling from your orgasm. Kusakabe comes first spills across your stomach, thick ropes painting your skin in hot streaks. Higuruma follows seconds later landing on your chest, your throat, one even catching the corner of your mouth as he groans. Nanami lasts longest before coming hard across your thighs marking you everywhere. You’re covered dripping with them.
You’re slumped in Kusakabe’s lap, back plastered to his chest, legs still splayed wide across the couch cushions. Atsuya’s arms tighten around your waist, “Okay soooo…” He drags the word out, “Who the fuck won?”
You feel Nanami snort softly against your thigh where he’s still kneeling, lips brushing the sticky mess he just left there. Higuruma, stretched out beside you now, one long arm draped possessively over your hip, lifts his head just enough to arch a brow at Kusakabe. “Seriously?” he drawls, “We all just came on her, and your first thought is the dick-measuring contest from forty minutes ago?”
Kusakabe shrugs, chin hooked over your shoulder so he can look down at the obscene painting they’ve made of your body. His hands slide up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing idly over your nipples. “I mean… yeah? That was literally the whole point, right?” He grins, “We were supposed to settle who’s got the biggest, best dick in the room. And then we got distracted by—” he gestures vaguely at you, “So c’mon, Final vote. Who wins?”
You let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh that turns into a half-moan when Kusakabe pinches your nipples at the same time. “You’re actually asking me to rank your dicks again right now?” Your voice is hoarse, still shot from screaming, “Fine. Still tied. But Atsuya wins girth, Hiromi length, Kento… perfection.”
Nanami huffs softly against your hair. “Acceptable ruling.”
Higuruma hums, fingers still tracing lazy patterns through the come on your skin. “Or…” he says softly, “we can agree the only real winner is her.”
Kusakabe groans dramatically. “Fine. Tie. Whatever. But I’m calling dibs on eating her out first next time. I wanna see if I can make her squirt faster than you did, Kento.”
Nanami smirks at him already knowing there’s no one who knows how to eat pussy like him. “Challenge accepted, Atsuya.”
Hiromi laughs as he begins cleaning you up, “Give her ten minutes to breathe first,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Then we’ll see who really wins round two.”
Oh well, Men and their dumb big dicks.
a/n: this ho 17k words. When I tell u I reached a horny flow state that shi was crazy, might as well have written this fic w my hard cock, love u sluts! ALSO credit to @g00miato for this bellísima work OF ART I’m in awe
➾In Which: Two things get passed around; the joint — and you.
RATED XXX. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.
❥Park Seonghwa x Kim Hongjoong x Kang Yeosang x fem reader
♫In Your Fantasy - ATEEZ♫
➯a/n: AH AH AH AH NOBODY LOOK AT ME NOBODY TOUCH ME IM HEJFIWBDKEQ- i really liked the new songs and im totally normal about them <3. totally not foaming at the mouth. totally not losing my mind. totally —
(>ᴗ•)genre: pure, filthy, unfiltered debauchery
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: i am ovulating. strap the FUCK in lovelies. ROUGH, MEAN, DIRTY. hongjoong and reader in an established relationship, he shares her <3 (he's still possessive though dw), implied chubby reader (squishable boobs, thighs, and tummy), doms hj and ys / switch (?) sh / sub reader, incredibly filthy but also completely safe: hongjoong is much more sober and makes sure reader feels safe / doesn't do anything she's uncomfortable with, that being said: free use reader gets her shit rocked, sub space, unprotected; pull out method + (1) creampie, orgasm control + edging + overstim, dry humping, high as some mfing kites, spit, messy kissing, face fucking, face sitting, breath play, giggly moments, fingering, hair pulling, m x m; kissing + grinding + sexual tension, cum eating, dacryphilia, manhandling, yeosang is a mean little weirdo (i luv him), praise + degradation, a few light spanks / slaps, park seonghwa's oppa kink. pet names + name calling: (dumb, little, sweet, messy, dirty, stupid, pretty, needy) baby, angel, slut, cumdump, fleshlight, love, girl, fuck(er), dummy / oppa, sir, joong(ie), sang(ie), hwa, pervert
"Are you sure she's okay with this?" Seonghwa asks while he nervously bites at his thumb, looking over to where you sit with Yeosang at the table.
Your fuzzy socked feet pulled up on the chair, your chin on your knees as you roll a large joint; making small talk with the younger member. You don't even look the slightest bit nervous or shy despite what you all know is coming.
Yeosang looks a bit more shy than usual, and he keeps his eyes locked onto your nimble fingers after you caught him staring at your nipples through your thin tank top.
"Yeah," Hongjoong answers simply, dropping his phone in his lap and leaning back to look over at you with a small smirk. "She's excited."
"What about you?"
"Me?" Hongjoong raises a brow, "what about me?"
"Are you... excited?"
"Oh," he breathes, before a large smile spreads across his face, "very. She's actually super slutty, I want to see how she acts with you guys. I bet she'll cum s-"
"Hongjoong!" Seonghwa yells, eyes wide and hand over his mouth, "you can't call her that-"
He laughs, meeting his eyes with yours as you and Yeosang look over to the commotion, "baby, come here for a second?"
You slide the small tray with the paper and buds on it to Yeosang before you hop down and come over with a smile. "What's u-"
"Get on your knees." Hongjoong says flatly, staring up at you.
You can feel Yeosang staring at you from the table, and Seonghwa is looking up at you with eyes still wide.
You sink to your knees without a second thought, even if it does make your heart beat a little faster. "You still want to-" Your boyfriend goes to speak, when you cut him off.
Nodding eagerly, "I really do."
"You do?" And you nod. "Because you're my slut, right?" Another nod — and you hear Seonghwa's breathing picking up a bit. "And you like it when I tell you what to do?"
Seonghwa thinks he might explode as you keep nodding your head obediently, knelt between them; a bit more towards Hongjoong. He's never seen someone so... pliable. It's making his pants tight around the crotch.
"And you really, really like it when I use you as my personal fleshlight, don't you, baby?"
"Yes-"
"Give me a kiss," he doesn't even give you time to respond before he's leaning down and grabbing you by the throat, lips pressed to yours roughly. It's even rougher than usual now that his friends are watching. Like he's showing off.
Because he most certainly is.
He pulls back and spits into your gaped mouth, spreading the saliva that misses all over your chin as you look up at him dazed. "You want to be their fleshlight, too?"
"Yeah," you pant quietly, "I want to make them feel good."
"How are you going to do that, sweet girl?" He smiles, devilish under the surface as he feels Seonghwa shifting on the couch next to him.
"Let them use me."
"Yeah? C'mere," he says softer, pulling you up to straddle him, "you want us to use you however we want?" He hums as he rubs your thighs gently.
"Yes."
"Do you want me to stay sober so I can make sure you don't do something you'll regret?"
You hesitate for a moment before you nod, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, "a little bit. Just, not as high?"
Yeosang almost scares Seonghwa with how he's snuck up on you all, holding out the lit joint to him as he blows the smoke out of his lungs.
He takes it quickly so he can calm his nerves about the whole thing, taking a long puff while listening to Hongjoongs soft reassurances to you.
"I can do that, baby," he whispers as he wraps his arms around you, voice low in your ear — but purposefully not so low that his friends can't hear him. "I'm going to share you, but don't forget who you belong to, okay? I'm the only one you share your bed with. I'm going to let my friends use your little pussy and when they're done, I'm going to fuck you so good you forget what they even felt like inside of you. Do you understand?"
"Sounds good, Joongie," you reply airily, your cheeks suddenly hot from his words; and from the way you can feel their eyes on your lower back as Hongjoong slides his hands under your shirt to caress your back.
"And if you want them to quit, you let me know. My girl comes first. Yeah?"
"Okay," you nod, looking down at him as he leans back, "love you, Joong."
"Awe, I love you too," he says with a peck to your lips, hands on your hips as he pulls away, "now show them how much of a slut you are."
You and Seonghwa both gasp as Hongjoong all but throws you into his lap; his hands clumsily coming to steady you by your waist. "H-hey, Oppa."
It's his turn to feel hot, ears practically burning as you settle over his lap; just as you were atop your boyfriend. "Hey..."
"Don't be shy, love," Hongjoong says as he takes the joint from his lips, having taken a small hit — just like you asked of him. He leans and places it between your lips, allowing you to suck on it as he says, "get nice and high for us. You always get so wet~"
"Fuck, I can't believe this is happening," Seonghwa groans, rubbing his face.
"Why not?" Yeosang asks as he sits on his other side, eyeing you slowly as Hongjoong holds the joint for you to take another hit. "If you don't want to touch her, let me."
Seonghwa stops you when you go to move towards him; hands firmer on your sides. "Don't-" He hesitates, "I want you to grind on me."
Hongjoong smirks as you immediately start moving your hips, your hands settled on your thighs — afraid to touch. "You can touch, can't she, Hwa?" He reaches between you and hands Yeosang the joint.
He looks between you before nodding quickly, "yes- yeah, I don't mind."
"Of course you don't," Yeosang chuckles before taking a quick hit, "pretty girl grinding on your cock, you'd be stupid if you were complaining."
His casual calling of you 'pretty' makes you even more shy, whining as you move to press your face into Seonghwa's chest; holding onto his shirt as you swirl your hips lightly.
"Awe, my little slut is shy, huh?" Hongjoong giggles, giving a small spank to your ass and making you jump. "I know you can do better than that, don't embarrass me now."
"Fucking-" Seonghwa gasps, instinctively grabbing at you as you grind into his growing bulge — deep and perfectly paced, "oh my god~" He bites his lip quickly, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling.
"See, that's more like it," Hongjoong hums, rubbing your sore cheek, "be a good whore for Oppa~"
Seonghwa snaps his head down to glare at him, mouth open to chastise him when you give a particularly nice roll of your hips and all he can get out instead is a moan. "Oh, shit-" He grips your hips, guiding you to repeat the motion, "like that."
Yeosang places the blunt in his lips, letting it hang as he stands up; tired of watching. He quickly unbuttons his pants, pulling his zipper down to give some relief to his aching cock. He comes behind you, gathering up your hair before pulling you up, "come here, slut."
Hongjoong laughs at the lost look in your eyes as you come up; inebriated brain lagging behind as you catch up to someone else calling you that.
"Finish it off," Yeosang hums as he places the joint into your mouth, a good four hits still on it. "I want to you to be so high you forget where you are when I fuck your brains out."
Seonghwa pants out a laugh as you cough, shocked by his bluntness so much that your hips still. Hongjoong does the same, adding to your shock when he smacks your ass again, "did we tell you to stop, dummy?"
You steady yourself with your hand on Seonghwa's stomach, the other pinching the joint as you catch your breath. "Sorry..."
"It's okay, pretty baby," Hongjoong leans and kisses your cheek as Seonghwa starts pulling your hips again, "now, do what Yeosang asked. Don't disappoint our guests."
You nod, shakily bringing the joint back to your lips and taking a large puff.
"She really will do anything you ask, won't she?" Yeosang asks, eyes filled with lust and curiosity as he watches you finish off the joint.
Hongjoong only smirks in response while he takes the ending from your lips, tossing it to the ashtray. "Baby," he tilts his head, and you look to him immediately, "open your mouth."
You do so with zero pause, tongue rolled out.
Seonghwa and Yeosang curse in tandem, the latter pulling you faster along his bulge as the lewd gesture makes his cock twitch.
Hongjoong stands up, tilting your head back slowly to look at them, "spit in her mouth."
Yeosang's eyes widen slightly, "really?"
"Yeah, really. She'll swallow it like a good girl," he looks to you pointedly, silently telling you to make him proud.
You hum affirmatively, locking eyes with him as he leans closer; "you'll let me spit in your mouth while you grind on someone else's cock? All while your boyfriend watches?" You nod, immediately met with his hand gripping your face as he spits right onto your tongue.
All three watch in various degrees of awe as you swallow it quickly, tongue stuck back out with a soft, "ah."
"Fuck- sorry, Hyung," Yeosang mumbles quickly as he leans down and wraps his arms around you, yanking you from Seonghwa lap and making him groan. "My turn," he breaths out as he falls back onto the couch, settling you in his lap.
Hongjoong sits next to Seonghwa, patting his shoulder with a grin, "don't worry, she's got stamina. We'll all get to use her."
"You asshole, Yeosang," he huffs softly, resting his head against the cushion and watching your hips closely as you grind down on his exposed boxers; it's almost like he can still feel it if he thinks hard enough.
"You were taking too long, I want some of her too," Yeosang pouts, but he definitely doesn't mean it — not when you're rubbing your clothed heat over his cock so deliciously.
You whine quietly as your high from the last few long hits sneaks up on you; making you light headed, along with the pleasure you're getting from pressing your clit onto him.
"Feeling good, baby?" Hongjoong asks quickly, guiding your head to rest on Yeosang's shoulder. He leans to your level and smiles as you nod quickly, "yeah? Are you getting needy?"
"Yeah," you admit tentatively, grabbing Yeosang's biceps as he grinds up into you.
"Needy little slut," Hongjoong coos as he slides his fingertips down and slips your tank tops sleeves over your shoulders. "Lift her up, Yeosang."
He groans a bit, but then he sees his intentions and moves quickly. Standing up, he steadies you with a hand on your lower back; the other carefully holding your head to his shoulder after it rolls.
Hongjoong rubs your arms softly before pulling your shirt down to your hips. Seonghwa leans forward, elbows on his legs as he watches closely, only able to catch a glimpse of your chest with the way Yeosang holds you upright.
"You're so wet," Hongjoong smiles at the evidence of how much you're enjoying yourself already, sliding all of your clothes down your legs in one slow pull; leaving you in nothing but your socks. "Come here, pretty, let me show you off~"
Yeosang pretty much falls back into his seat, eyes trailing every inch on your body wildly as Hongjoong rubs up and down your waist slowly.
"Good goddamn," Seonghwa whispers, swallowing thickly. "What the fuck." It doesn't really sound like a question, more of a way to express his disbelief as he soaks in every detail he can and commits it to memory — because there's no way he'd not be jerking off to this for years to come.
"Isn't my slut just gorgeous?" Hongjoong slips a hand to your cunt, cupping and squeezing it softly and making you gasp; grabbing at his arm for something to hold onto. "Needy little baby~" He giggles as you pout up at him beggingly.
"Please-"
Seonghwa stands up quickly, the simple sound of you begging — not even desperately or urgently — making his willpower completely disappear.
"You are such a tease, do you know that?" He says as he sandwiches you between them, suffocating you with his presence as he cups your jaw, still admiring your body. "Do you know how long I've wanted to fuck you? But, no, I just had to be a good person and not bend over my best friends girl." He meets your fuzzy gaze, slipping his hand under Hongjoongs as he grins; watching you both closely.
"R-really?" You ask shakily, feeling shrunken under his suddenly intense and dominant eyes.
"Dead fucking serious," he nods, slipping his middle finger into you and groaning as he feels around slowly; savoring the softness of your insides and making you tremble in the process. "I've jerked off to you so many times," he admits quickly, "thinking about how lucky Joong is, how he gets to fuck you. I know we all have."
"Maybe I'll invite them next time," Hongjoong purrs in your ear, massaging your breasts slowly, "would you like that? Each of my members getting a chance to feel that wet little cunt?"
"Yes-" You gasp as Yeosang sneaks up on you, gripping your jaw and turning you to look at him.
He looks from you to Hongjoong for a moment, and when he nods; Yeosang leans forward and kisses you. Messy, rough, completely overpowering your mouth with his and shoving his tongue between your lips.
You grab onto Seonghwa's side for stability as your legs wobble; another one of his fingers slipping into you. "Look at my messy slut," Hongjoong moans, grinding against your ass. When he catches your fingers raising shakily, he grabs Yeosang by his hair roughly; making him hiss. "Let her breathe," he says before pulling him to his lips instead.
He's a bit shocked at first, but he's quickly leaning into it; fighting against his tongue with his own.
You and Seonghwa both watch, and he can't help but giggle a bit. "God, I can't fucking believe this," he repeats his earlier sentiment.
"Hwa," you pant quietly, looking up at him with your chest heaving softly in Hongjoong's grasp.
His eyes widen a bit, nodding quickly. "What- what is it, are you ok-"
Hongjoong pulls away from Yeosang, looking at you with breakneck speed.
"Will you... maybe, eat me out?"
Hongjoong sighs with a laugh of relief, squeezing your chest almost affectionately. "Ah, you little fucker, you scared me."
"Sorry, Jo- ah!" You squeal as Seonghwa drags you away, throwing you onto the couch.
"Sit up," he rushes, pulling you up to face the wall before all but falling to the floor.
"Eager," Yeosang laughs, licking his puffy lips as he comes to sit next to you.
He lifts your hips and settles his face below you, moaning from the anticipation alone. "A-are you go-"
He cuts you off, "I'm gonna sit you on my face, yeah?" Before you have a chance to respond, he's pulling you down by your hips and holding you tightly while he lands a fat lick up the length of your cunt. "Oh, holy fuck..."
"Don't get addicted," Hongjoong warns him playfully, a hint of seriousness underneath. "She'll get you."
Yeosang chuckles as you grab the back of the couch; Seonghwa immediately licking all over your dripping pussy with an eagerness that makes you tremble. "You like that?" He hums, tilting his head and cooing when you nod quickly. "Yeah, I bet you do, slut~"
"Fuck-" You go to collapse onto the cushion when Hongjoong grabs the back of your neck and holds you up.
"No hiding, remember?"
"Sorry, sir," you apologize with a small whine as Seonghwa sucks on your clit.
"Can't take it anymore," Yeosang snaps as you utter the title, yanking his boxers down and groaning loudly. Grabbing your wrist, he drags your hand over to his hard length, "take care of this, all your fucking fault anyway."
"Mh, go on, baby," Hongjoong encourages you as you hesitate, going so far as to lean over and spit in your hand, "make him feel good."
It's hard to think of how to do that — with his grip on your neck and Seonghwa's tongue in your cunt and Yeosang's powerful gaze locked in on you and your brain entirely too high to process so much information at once.
"Hey," Yeosang notices you faltering and slaps you, gently; just harsh enough to bring you back to reality and listen to his more direct command, "jerk me off."
You swallow thickly, and you're still able to spit into your hand; letting it join Hongjoongs before you wrap your hand around his cock. His head falls back with the simple touch, a groan breaking in his throat as you slowly slide your hand up and down his length.
"You're doing so good, my dirty girl~" Hongjoong grins as he watches Yeosang slump from your attention to his cock — practically melting.
"Can I cum?" You look up at him, eyes wet and a pout on your lips.
"Awe, of course, you needy girl," he slides his hand around and grabs the front of your throat, choking you, "fucking cum all over Hwa's face, why don't you? Show him how nice it tastes."
You manage to give Yeosang a few more strokes before you have to let go, grabbing his arm and squeezing it tightly as you do just as your boyfriend says — cum all over his best friends face.
It's so intense that you lose all of the air in your lungs, a pathetic whimper all that you can manage as it washes over you.
Yeosang is shoving his bottoms off as he watches you, locking eyes with Hongjoong briefly before he snatches up your twitching form; leaving Seonghwa panting heavily and his face blissed out like he just came.
"Shit, you alive down there?" Hongjoong laughs, kneeling down and straddling his lap. "Told you she's slutty~"
He's completely breathless, grabbing onto him out of pure instinct and forcing him down to sit on his begging cock, "Joong, please-"
They both look over as you gasp; watching Yeosang push his fat tip into your cunt. He has you perched in his lap, head held to his shoulder once again, telling you, "take it." Before he slams his length into you with one rough thrust.
You scream into his shoulder, and Hongjoongs lips spread into a large grin as he registers your jumbled words. "Oh, fucking sweet hell! S'good!"
"Messy fucking fleshlight," Yeosang groans, gripping your hair tightly, "taking my dick no problem, so wet..." He closes his eyes, panting a few times while gathering himself.
"She's taking it all just like that?" Seonghwa asks in awe, hands still gripping Hongjoongs hips tightly.
"Course she is, my slutty little angel," Hongjoong reaches and smacks your ass; making both of you gasp, because the impact makes you clench around him.
"Fuck-" Yeosang curses with his jaw clenched, wrapping his arms around you tightly before pounding into you mercilessly.
You kick your feet uselessly, balling up his shirt in your fists as you moan into his neck; hiding your face there.
"Can you handle it, baby?" Hongjoong calls out, laughing along with Seonghwa as you quickly yell out:
"Fuck yes!"
"Good girl," he chuckles before looking back down to him, your arousal still gleaming on his chin. "Ah, she got you all messy," he says nonchalantly before leaning and licking up his chin, all the way to his lips; just hardly grazing the bottom one.
"Oh, fuck me," he sighs, eyes fluttering shut as Hongjoong laps up the rest of it before giving a small roll of his hips.
"That's her job," he giggles, sliding his hands up his chest, "unless you have something different in mind~" He whispers teasingly while wrapping his hands around his neck — just barely.
Seonghwa whimpers: the sounds of you getting pummeled next to him, the taste of you lingering on his tongue, Hongjoongs weight against his cock, his hands around his neck is getting to be too much.
"You pervert," Hongjoong chuckles as he tightens his grip, "you really do want both of us."
"F-fuck, so what?" He says shakily, blush creeping up his face as he hears you yelling for Yeosang to let you cum.
"So," he opens his eyes quickly as he feels Hongjoongs breath on his lips, finding him nose to nose with him, "maybe I'll make that happen if you make my girl happy."
"You will?"
His answer comes in the form of a kiss — not dominance fighting like it was with Yeosang, but not quite loving like with you. More... experimental. Testing the waters with each other.
Hongjoong abandons his lips as he hears you whimpering, looking over to you quickly. "Pretty?"
"He won't let me cum!" You wail, clinging to Yeosang's shirt like a lifeline. "Please, Joongie, tell h-him to let me!"
Yeosang laughs, breathlessly as he continues to practically beat up your insides with his thick cock. "Beg a little more, I'll let you~"
"Yeosang, don't be a jerk. Let the poor girl-" Seonghwa gets cut off when Hongjoong slaps a hand over his mouth, leaving him a bit flabbergasted.
"Baby~" He coos, holding back his own laughter, "I'm not in charge of you right now." He always is, and he continues to be even as someone else is using you like their toy. But he likes seeing you throw your little fits from time to time. And he wants to see how you handle it. "You'll have to do what Yeosang asks."
"Please, please, please-" You do so immediately, pushing yourself up on his chest only to be met with an indifferent stare; only a small smirk playing on his lips.
"You call that begging? Hongjoong has been too soft with you for how big of a slut you are."
"Sang, pl-" He pulls you off of him, leaving you whining and pouting for him to keep going as he throws you to lay across the couch.
"You'll learn how to really beg if you want it so bad." He flips you onto your stomach, pounding back into you the second you land.
You shove your face into the cushion as you cry, kicking your legs until he grips your hair and reels you up. "Try again."
"Please, I want to-"
"Wrong." He says before letting you go, pushing your legs open with his until one of them dangles off the edge next to Seonghwa and Hongjoong.
"Yeosang!" You scream, "fuck! Please, pretty fucking goddamn please! I can't hold it, I need to cum, sir-"
You keep on rambling your pleas, but you've already satisfied him — so he slips a hand under your hips and circles your clit. "Cum."
"J- Ah, thank you!"
The way you clench and tremble around him, the way you hide in the cushion as you moan; it all almost makes him cum inside of you before he remembers Hongjoongs threats before they even set foot in your shared space.
"Shit-" He gasps, pulling out quickly and crushing you to the couch as he sits on the back of your thighs, fisting his cock quickly as he watches the way you twitch.
Seonghwa is practically drooling as he watches Yeosang's cum splatter on the expanse of your back, Hongjoong just the same.
He holds your hip in a way that must be his attempt at comfort as you both just stay for a moment and catch your breath.
"You okay, sweet girl?" Hongjoong whispers, crawling out of Seonghwa's lap and kneeling next to your head as you sniffle. You hold your hand out shakily, opening and closing it quickly. "Awe," he takes it fast, lacing his fingers with yours, "little fleshlight got her brains fucked out after just one round?"
You nod into the couch, sniffling.
"You want to keep on going?"
Again, you nod.
"Atta girl," he giggles, rubbing the back of your head gently as Yeosang stands up.
He hesitates a second, but then he leans down and moves your head to look at him. "Thanks," he says before leaning down and kissing your cheek; earning himself a smile. "You d-" He clears his throat as his heart skips a beat, "you did really good."
"Say thank you, baby," Hongjoong says softly, taking the tissue that Seonghwa offers him and wiping up your back while biting his lip.
"Thank you, Sangie," you moan softly, pushing yourself up on your shaky arms before pointing at Seonghwa.
He points towards himself as well, finger to his chest, "me?"
"Your turn."
"You don't need a break, angel?" Hongjoong hands the soiled tissue to Yeosang, and he's disappearing further into the apartment. "D-"
"No," you giggle, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his chin, "I'm ready for more. Plus, Oppa won't be rough with m-" A yelp slips past your lips as Seonghwa pulls you to the floor, cupping your head as you fall to the hard wood.
"You have got to stop calling me that," he groans as he slots himself between your legs, holding himself up with one hand while the other guides his cock along your soaked slit; impatiently pulled out of his pants.
"Sorry, sir-"
"Fuck," he whines, eyebrows pressed together, "that's even worse."
Hongjoong chuckles, coming to sit by your head as he frees his length. "I think you're making him shy, baby," he leans and pecks your lips while fisting his cock, breathing in your gasp as Seonghwa slides into you slowly. "That feel nice, hm? Needy little fleshlight~"
Seonghwa gasps as you clench around him, leaning his head against your shoulder with a low curse. "Oh, fuck, you feel so good..."
Yeosang falls back onto the couch, turning his head to watch; his dick already half-hard in his boxers again. "Pretty slut," he whispers, to no one other than himself, but given the way Hongjoongs eyes flick to him; he figures he heard.
He did — and a sick sense of pride is in his chest as he looks between Yeosang's spent form and Seonghwa's blissful face. All because of you.
He leans down quickly, taking your lips in his more roughly. Cupping your cheek and pulling one of your hands to his hard length, holding his hand over yours and using it to jerk himself off all while Seonghwa starts thrusting into you with a testing pace. "Good fucking girl," he groans into your mouth, nipping your lips, "being such a well behaved slut for us. Keep it up for me, yeah?"
"Yeah," you pant out with a nod, feeling dizzy and being thankful that Seonghwa is taking you flat on the floor so his thrust don't throw you around as much as he picks up his rhythm. "I wa-want some cum, Joongie."
"Where at?" He grins wide as he hears Seonghwa moaning into your shoulder; clearly very into your neediness in your fuzzy state of mind if the way he grips your hips says anything, if the way he starts pounding you just as hard as Yeosang did says anything.
"Ah," you tilt your head back a bit, your back arching off the floor as he prods your g-spot, opening your mouth wide.
"Oh, in here, dirty girl?" He teases, sticking two of his fingers into your mouth and pressing your tongue down before spitting into it.
Yeosang slides down, already freeing himself from the confines of his boxers and grabbing your other hand to mirror Hongjoong; jerking himself off and spitting into your open mouth as you moan.
"We're going to give you some cum, and you better keep it in your mouth until Hwa is done using your little pussy, okay? You understand me?" Hongjoong asks with a soft slap, moving your hand faster along his length.
"Mmf," you pout as Yeosang grinds his leaking tip on your heated cheek, trying to tilt your head and take it into your mouth — when Seonghwa grabs you by the base of your hair and pulls you back down.
"He's talking to you, baby," he says lowly against your throat, nickname slipping without his permission or his realization. And the way it makes you squeeze him makes him want to do it again and again. "Where's your manners at?"
"Fuck!" You writhe as he stills after a harsh thrust, pressing against everything inside of you that makes you drool; strings of saliva visible in your mouth as you open it wide and hum a, "mhm!"
"That's better, that's a polite little slut," he moans before nipping at your sweat sheened shoulder.
Hongjoong eyes him for a moment, biting his lip as he tries to decide if he's okay with how he's behaving. Seonghwa's never had a dominant bone in his body. Maybe you're such a good sub that you've brought it out of him, or maybe he's just never had the chance to be in control of someone and it's giving him a high that rivals the drugs in his system.
Either way, Hongjoong decides he likes it, because evidently so do you — uncontrollable moans muffled as Yeosang shoves his cock in your mouth and fucks the pocket of your cheek.
"F-fuck," he whines quietly, Hongjoong the only witness to his moment of sensitivity because Seonghwa is drunk on your pussy, and you're... "God, you're so pretty." He can't help but let out his thoughts under the influence of the joint and the pleasure just as much as the two of you are.
You blink up at him with teary eyes, eyelashes starting to dampen.
"Isn't she?" Hongjoong coos, petting your cheek and pressing against it as Yeosang fucks into it, making all three of you moan with the chain reaction he creates: Yeosang cumming into your mouth, you moaning and clenching around Seonghwa to beg silently for him to make you cum, and him burying his face in your chest as he fucks you even harder.
"Don't swallow, you little fucker, I see you thinking about it," Hongjoong warns with a cocky grin stuck on his face as he takes Yeosang's place; the overstimulated man falling to sit next to you all as he catches his breath.
"You've got two more loads coming, angel," he pulls your head to the side, telling you, "suck. And don't let any cum out or you're licking it off the floor."
You whine, but you do what he asks, suctioning your lips around him tightly so none of Yeosang's cum can drip out before you bob your head slowly.
Seonghwa pants heavily, chest heaving against you as he stills — he's so close to his own orgasm but he doesn't want it to end yet. He watches you suck on Hongjoong cock with what can only be described as heart eyes; and Yeosang is the same.
"What's wrong, little love?" Hongjoong whispers mockingly as your tears finally start slipping from your waterline. "Can't breathe with all that cum and cock in your mouth?"
You nod, slurping around him as some of the cum threatens to drop.
"No?" He moves you to lay your head flat again, straddling your shoulders as Seonghwa sits up and watches over his shoulder; gasping a bit shocked when he pinches your nose closed and starts fucking into your messy mouth. "Now you can't breathe, stupid slut. Keep fucking sucking- make me cum unless you want to pass out and have us use your defenseless little holes like an actual fleshlight."
You grab his thighs tightly, sucking as best you can while Seonghwa starts fucking you again; unable to stop himself as he watches the lewd scene. "Goddamn, Joong," he groans, "you're so mean to her."
"She likes it. Likes being put in her place, right?" He lets go of your nose and lets you breathe heavily through it, still obediently sucking at him. "Besides, aren't you the one beating up her pussy right now?" He chuckles as he hears another groan from behind him over the slapping of skin. Carefully, he wipes the sweat from your brows and cradles your puffy cheeks.
"I'm going to cum, don't you dare spill any and don't you dare swallow, either," he warns shortly before doing just what he says; moaning and letting his shoulders slump as he spills all of his release into your stuffed mouth.
You pant through your nose as he pulls away, jaw dropping open to show them the white pool in your mouth.
"Fucking-" The words die out on Seonghwa's tongue, his hands gripping your thighs and pulling you into his wild thrusts.
Yeosang licks his lips, eyeing you intently as you struggle to breathe with everything going on; lust still clear in his gaze.
Hongjoong moves off of you and swipes his hair back, taking a breath before he reaches down and circles your clit with quick and harsh movements, "cum for us, sweet girl~"
You choke as your pleasure breaks over you, gurgling and almost spitting the cum out before Yeosang leans quickly and slaps a hand over your mouth. "Keep it, baby. Taste us while you cum." Just like Seonghwa; the nickname flew out of his mouth without his consent or his knowledge — but Hongjoong catches it, and this time he doesn't hesitate to grin wide.
Your legs kick a few times before they fall uselessly, trembling as Seonghwa continues to fuck you through and past your mind-numbing orgasm while Hongjoong swirls his fingers on your messy clit.
"Oh, fffuck," Seonghwa moans, hands sliding up to your stomach and groping you, "ah, I want to cum so bad..."
"Not inside of her," Hongjoong warns quickly. No matter how much he's willing to share — he is the only one who gets to fill your pussy like that.
"G-god, I know," he says just as fast, hips stuttering and jolting into you like a wild animal, "but she practically beg-begging for it~ You're so. Fucking. Lucky." He growls between his teeth with a rough thrust to emphasize each word before suddenly pulling out; leaving you a trembling puddle as he climbs up your body hastily.
"Move," he grips Yeosang's wrist and pulls it away, opening up your messy mouth with a grip on your jaw. "Fucking hell," he gasps, jerking himself off quickly as you stare up at him with a dazed and content glaze in your eyes.
A little bit of his cum lands on your cheek before he places his tip in your mouth, biting back his whimpers as you suck on it. Hongjoong leans over and swipes it up; spreading it on your lips, "here we go, baby, none of it goes to waste."
Yeosang has to blink out of his daze to catch Seonghwa as he falls back, laughing as he pulls him to sit with his back against the couch. "Sweet fuck," he pants while tilting his head back.
"Swallow now, pretty girl," Hongjoong whispers, planting a kiss to your cum slick lips as you gulp. There's so much of it — you have to swallow a good three times before you can open your mouth and finally draw in some deep breaths. "Perfect~"
He wraps his arms around your shoulders and gently sits you up, making you whine, "Oppa, you j-jerk."
They all chuckle at your small pout, and Seonghwa looks down with a large smile, blush still bright on his cheeks. "Sorry, you just felt so good..."
"C'mon, little angel," Hongjoong says with a giggle, wrapping your arm over his neck to pull you up.
"I'll carry her, Hyung," Yeosang says quickly, jumping to his feet. Seonghwa is a little slower, still heavy with his bliss.
"Uh," Hongjoong hesitates, looking to you, "are you okay with that, love? He can carry you faster than me."
"Yeah," you groan, desperate for your comfortable bed and some love from your boyfriend. "Thanks, Sang," you sigh with relief as he scoops you up bridal style, leaning your head on his arm.
"No problem," he smiles down at you, feeling something a little too close to affection bubbling in his stomach and looking back up quickly. "Here we go," he sets you down slowly, scanning your body one more time, "thanks for... yeah." He kisses your cheek quickly before shuffling away quickly, giving Hongjoong a small bow as he passes.
Seonghwa comes up next, hand instinctively cupping your jaw as he leans down and kisses you softly. Short, simple, and sweet. "Thank you, baby," he whispers gently, stroking your cheek with his thumb like he's savoring the feeling of your heated skin, "you were so good for us."
"Thanks, Hwa," you lean up and peck his lips once more before he turns; smiling and nodding to Hongjoong as he heads to the door.
Hongjoong snatches up his wrist, devilish grin on his lips, "I think you made her happy." He says simply, but it carries something deeper when Seonghwa remembers his earlier words.
"Yeah?"
He nods, "maybe... this could be a regular thing. If she l-"
"Absolutely," you moan sleepily as you snuggle up ontop of your blankets.
They share a small laugh, peeking over at you. "Well, the princess has spoken," Seonghwa jokes like his heart isn't about to beat right out of his chest.
"We'll talk about it later, yeah?" Hongjoong slides his hand down his arm as he passes, climbing into the bed with you and pulling off his disheveled clothes. "Let me take care of my girl."
Seonghwa watches for a moment before he snaps back into his body, leaving the room and closing the door with a giant smile on his face.
"Are you okay, sweet love?" Hongjoong hums as he tenderly moves you onto your back, leaving a trail of soft kisses down your cheekbone to your lips. "They didn't hurt you?"
"No, I'm okay, Joongie," you smile beneath his lips, eyes blurry and gleaming with your submission. So deep in your subspace that you'd do anything and everything he asks of you. And all he asks is —
"Will you let me show you how much I love you?"
You nod, of course you do; spreading your legs so he can lay between them. Both of you completely nude, he hugs you close and melds your bodies together.
"I'm so proud of you, pretty," he groans into your ear as he slides his cock into you. Your sore walls clenching and twitching to say 'no more' but you only sigh softly and melt under him, holding him tightly as he sets a slow and loving pace.
"You are my perfect little fleshlight, aren't you? Take so much for me, make me feel so good — make my friends feel so good. Shhh, shhh~ No tears, angel," he kisses them up before you even notice them falling, shushing you softly.
You feel vulnerable and exposed after it all, and at the very same time you feel completely safe in his arms. "H-hold me tighter, please?"
"Of course," he quickly complies, squeezing you in his arms. "I got you, my sweet girl," he leaves one more kiss on your teary cheek before pressing his forehead against yours, noticing your eyes flicking around. "Hey, focus on me- there you go~ There's my pretty baby~"
You breathe heavy against his lips, eyes locked on his as he continues his slow thrusts, "f-feels good?"
"Feels so fucking good, love," he assures you immediately, "nothing in the world compares to my girl." He smiles as you do, giggling breathlessly as he plants another round of kisses across your face.
"Can you- fuck," you lose your train of thought as quickly as it comes, hips twitching under his as you whine.
"Slow, baby," he hums, kissing his way down your neck and sucking softly. "Tell me what you want, take your time."
"Can you please cum inside of me?" You plead, almost pathetic in the way you tear up at the thought of him saying no.
"Of course, I can- that gonna make you happy?" He hugs you tighter as your back arches, squeezing your chest to his.
"So happy," you gasp, fingers wrapping up in his hair to ground yourself.
"Don't worry, love, I'll give it to you," he chuckles quietly before latching onto your neck and sucking hard enough to leave a mark; something nobody else will do to you — not on his watch.
"Cumming, cumming!" You wail as it creeps up on you and blankets your entire being, smothering you in pleasure so hot and intense that you're full on sobbing by the time you come back to your body.
He groans deeply from the tight grip you have on his hair; the one you don't even notice, thrusting a few more times to fuck his cum into you before he all but collapses. He rolls to his side, dragging you along with him and immediately tucking your head under his chin to cradle you to his chest.
"Shhhh, you're okay," he hums, holding you tightly and moving slowly to drape a leg over your hip; pulling you even closer. "Pretty girl."
He's more than happy to keep sharing, keep showing you off — but nobody gets to see you like this.
So soft and vulnerable, so fragile as he holds you through your sobs.
── established relationship, hard dom!hongjoong x fem!reader
“The hotel room is too quiet for how hard Hongjoong is fucking you.”
You thought you could handle him, but Hongjoong isn’t interested in making love tonight. He wants to break you down until you are nothing but a weeping, shaking mess in his hands. He has rules—be still, be quiet, don’t cum—and he is going to make sure you fail every single one of them just so he can punish you for it.
Genre: heavy smut, porn without plot
Trigger Warnings: explicit sexual content (mdni!), daddy kink (heavy), degradation & name calling (useless, pathetic, toy, slut, hole, sleeve), rough sex: (hair pulling, biting, bruising, aggressive thrusting), oral fixation (fingers in mouth, gagging, drooling), denial, edging, impact play (spanking, slapping), objectification, dacryphilia, exhibitionism (sex against a floor-to-ceiling window), body fluids (spit, tears, sperm on face/throat), multiple orgasms, overstimulation (reader says it hurts), brat taming, mild breath play, cock warming, squirting, breeding kink, creampie, traffic light system, breast play, deep subspace, reader’s fucked stupid, aftercare???
WC: 17.7k
Mon’s Note: i honestly don’t know what happened here. title is “empty headed” because that is literally me after writing this. no thoughts. head empty.
The hotel room is too quiet for how hard Hongjoong’s fucking you.
“Da‑daddy,” you moan as he pounds into you, your arms pinned tight behind your back in one of his hands.
“Fu—fuck.” Your own sounds fill the space along with the wet slap of skin, the headboard’s dull knock against the wall, the drag of sheets burning your knees. You’re clenching around him each time he hits that spot, lights blurring at the edges. Your thighs shake, your mouth stays open, wrecked sound spilling out with every thrust.
Hongjoong adjusts your hips the barest inch and the angle turns ruthless. The stretch sharpens and the friction is obscene. You swear. His breath ghosts your ear, calm where everything else is chaos.
“That’s it. Fucking take it.” His rings are cold against your wrists where he pins them, a bite that makes you clench harder.
“Fuck Joong—”
He stops. The shift is sudden—your body still clenching around his dick, desperate for friction that’s no longer there. His hand fists in your hair and jerks you up hard, arching your spine until your back meets his chest. One arm locks around your waist, ribs pressed to his forearm. The other grips your jaw, fingers pressing into the hinge until your mouth falls open.
You can feel his pulse against your cheek.
You can feel your own everywhere.
“What did you just call me?” His voice is low, dangerous, a heat against your ear. You feel it more than hear it, vibrating through your ribs where he’s got you pinned. The air is hot and thin.
Your breath comes shallow, uneven. “I—”
“Say it again.” Hongjoong’s hips shift, just enough to make you gasp, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t give you what you need. His thumb drags across your bottom lip, smearing spit at the corner. “Go on.”
You swallow. Your pulse hammers against his palm. “Da—”
He tsks, the sound soft and cutting. His grip tightens on your jaw until your eyes sting. “Wrong answer.” His thumb pushes your chin up.
His hand slides from your jaw to your throat, not squeezing yet. “You know better.” The words are barely above a whisper, but they land heavy. He pulls out almost completely, the drag lighting every nerve, then slams back in without warning.
Your body jerks forward with the force, a broken cry tearing from your throat. The slap of skin is sharp. The mattress stutters under your knees, the headboard slams again.
“Daddy—” The word comes out garbled, desperate, exactly what he wanted to hear.
“Good girl.” His grip on your throat softens, becomes almost tender. “Again.”
“Daddy,” you gasp, the word punched out of you with another sharp thrust. Your fingers curl uselessly in his grip, your whole body wound so tight you think you might shatter. “Please—addy, I need—” Your own spit threads from your mouth to his thumb where it drags your lip and you taste metal from your bitten tongue.
Hongjoong’s laugh is dark, satisfied. “Need what, love?” The hand on your throat slides down to palm your breast, rolling your nipple between two knuckles until heat spikes. He pinches it and the pain blooms sweet and mean. “Use your words.” His breath hits damp hair stuck to your temple.
You moan uselessly, the sound ragged and broken. Words won’t come—just desperate, incoherent noise that makes him groan against your ear.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, satisfaction dripping from every word. Your knees skid an inch on the sheet and his hand leaves your breast to clamps your hip and hauls you back so you feel the blunt head punch deep again. He holds you exactly where he wants you as he starts thrusting deep inside you. “Can’t even speak anymore, can you?”
You shake your head frantically, or try to—his hold on you barely allows the movement. Everything’s gone white‑hot and overwhelming, your body trembling in his arms as he takes you apart piece by piece. Your mascara is a damp smear at your lashes; a tear salt‑burns the corner of your mouth where it meets his thumb.
“Mmpf—please—” The words break on a sob as the tension coils impossibly tighter, your walls fluttering around him. Your thighs tremble uncontrollably. The mattress squeals. Hongjoong groans when your cunt strangles him, like the sound is dragged from somewhere he doesn’t show anyone.
“I’ve been a good girl, Daddy, please—” Your voice breaks on the words, desperate and pleading. “Please let me—fuc—k—let me cum, I need—”
“Not yet. Listen to yourself—messy little thing, slobbering on my hand and still trying to think you get a say.” His pace doesn’t falter, each thrust hitting that devastating spot that has your vision blurring. He changes nothing just to prove he controls everything. “You’ll cum when I say.”
“Daddy—” It’s a sob more than a word, your body trembling violently as you fight against the edge. “Please, I can’t—I can’t hold it—”
“Yes, you can. You’re a hole when I tell you to be a hole.” His lips brush your ear, voice dropping lower, amused and cruel. “Be useful.” His teeth take the soft flesh of your shoulder, a quick bite that stings and his tongue soothes, then he bites again, harder.
A broken whimper tears from your throat as tears prick at your eyes. “Yes—yes, I’ll wait—fuck—please—” The word breaks because he drives in meaner, holding you down with his forearm across your ribs until your breaths come shallow and quick.
“That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? Taking.” The room narrows to the slick drag and the hot thud of him and the damp heat where your bodies meet. “Just a wet little thing I wreck.”
Your eyes sting, vision blurring as the first tear slips free. It tracks hot down your cheek, and Hongjoong’s rhythm stutters for just a beat like he’s savouring it. His grip on your jaw shifts, thumb catching the wetness before it falls to the sheet.
“Look at you,” he breathes, hungry. “Crying because you can’t keep up. Cock‑drunk already and I’m not even trying.” He drags the tear across your cheekbone, reverent and mean at once. “So fucking pretty when you beg with your eyes.” He licks the salt from his thumb, eyes fixed on your wrecked mouth. “Open that useless mouth and try again.”
Another tear follows, then another. A sob catches as he drives deeper. His groan vibrates against your spine. “Pathetic,” he murmurs, almost fond.
Hongjoong’s hand moves from your jaw to cup your face, fingers gentle even as his hips maintain their brutal pace. “Let me see what a mess you are.” He turns your face just enough to catch the tear‑tracks in the low light, pupils blown. “Crying so pretty on Daddy’s cock.”
The praise and the cruelty braid together and break something in you. “Please—” Your voice frays to a thread.
“So good for me,” he says, and then ruins it: “Good for nothing but this.” He catches another tear with his thumb. “My perfect little toy.” His palm slides down your belly, heat making your muscles jump. “Say it.”
“T—toy,” you gasp, shame and want tangling.
“Show Daddy how pretty you look when you break.” He hooks two fingers in the corner of your mouth, yanking it open so spit strings glitter from your lip. “There. Pretty mouth.”
His thumb presses your bottom lip then pushes past. Two fingers follow, flattening your tongue until drool pools at the corners of your mouth. “Keep it open,” he orders, voice rough. “Show me that useless tongue.”
You do, jaw slack, spit threading down your chin while he fucks you deep. He presses farther, taps the back of your throat until your eyes glass. The first gag catches wet and awful, and he groans like you handed him a gift. “There it is. Choke on my fingers while I fill you up.”
He doesn’t pull back—he pushes deeper, knuckles wetting your tongue, and the next gag rips through you loud enough to embarrass you. Tears jump your lash line and spill. Hongjoong watches them like they’re rare, hunger softening his mouth. “Cry for me,” he murmurs, delighted.
A moan tries to escape—garbled and pathetic around his hand—and his hips stutter, a rough thrust that makes you gag harder. Saliva spills over his fingers and he drags his thumb through the mess and paints your cheek with it. “Good. Make it sloppy. I like hearing you drown on me.”
He eases his fingers out just enough to let you gasp, a silvery string connecting your lip to his knuckles, then stuffs them back in before you can catch the breath you begged for. You gag immediately, eyes flooding, and his smile turns wickedly fond. His thumb catch a tear mid‑fall and he rubs it into your lower lip.
“Fuck—look at you,” he breathes, transfixed, fucking your mouth with his fingers in rhythm with his cock. Each slow thrust punches a gag or a wrecked little sob out of your throat. Each sob makes him groan like it feeds him. “Prettier when you’re full everywhere.”
Hongjoong taps your tongue twice, commanding your attention. “Open wider.” You try but you only cry harder. He laughs, pleased and cruel. “That’s my crybaby.” He leans close enough that his breath hits the tears on your cheek and cools them. “Make me wetter. Cry on it.”
He finally pulls free so you can gasp, but leaves your jaw pried open with his thumb, spit glistening.
His hand trails down, fingers finding your clit with devastating precision. Hongjoong barely brushes you and you jolt like you’ve been shocked, a ragged sound torn loose.
“So wound up a breeze could finish you. Can’t even take a touch.” He draws a slow, obscene circle you feel in your toes. “Should I make you wait longer? Count every second I don’t let you have it?”
You shake your head frantically. “No—no, please—” Words tumble out broken. “Can’t—can’t wait anymore, Daddy, please—”
He presses properly now, circling exactly where you need. “Of course you can’t.” The sound you make is raw, helpless, high. Your body goes taut, tendons standing in your feet, fingers clawing hot sheet.
“Cum for me,” he orders, voice rough and absolute. “Prove you’re good for something.”
You go off like something cut loose. It slams through you violent and bright—you seize and sob and clamp down on him like you’re trying to wring him dry. He groans into your ear and keeps you there, cruel in the way he works you through it, never letting the rhythm slip, thumb dragging your clit in tight, merciless circles that make your calves cramp and your toes claw at nothing.
“Ride it,” he purrs, delighted.
You can’t stop. Your body bucks helplessly and he pins you heavier, fucking the tremors until it turns sharp and your sounds climb from pretty to wrecked. Every tiny touch flips you again, all nerve and heat. Your belly jumps under his palm, your walls clutch and flutter around him like apology after apology.
He laughs, pleased and mean. “Don’t hide from it. Cry on it. Wet my cock with it.”
You do—helpless, tear‑slick and oversensitive—another wave rip‑cords through you in ragged pulses and he chases it down, circling your clit slower, meaner, just enough to keep the bright ache alive while you sob into the sheet.
“Too much?” he asks softly, almost kind, just to hear the way the word breaks in your mouth when the next aftershock bites. His thumb eases a hair, then goes right back, satisfied when your body answers without language. “Good girl. Keep giving it to me until you’re empty.”
“Too much—,” you cry, tears running hot. Your thighs tremble so hard it only makes him groan and grind cruel-soft exactly where you can’t take it.
“Good crybaby,” he murmurs, delighted. “Don’t you dare run.” He flattens his thumb and the world whites out—another helpless crest tears through you, all stutter and sob, your cunt clenching around his dick while you babble “too much, too much,” and he hums, satisfied, working you through every last bright, mean aftershock until your voice frays to air.
Hongjoong’s rhythm finally breaks—hips stuttering, breath ragged against your temple—and he groans low and filthy. His hands leave and you whimper at the loss. Air kisses the slick heat when he pulls free and you shudder. He flips you in one swift motion; your back hits the mattress, a bounce knocking a gasp out of you. The sheets are damp under your shoulder blades and the pillow is cool under fevered skin.
“Look at me.” Jaw tight, eyes wild, control fraying. A vein jumps in his neck. He looks like sin and victory.
“Hands above your head.” You obey, wrists crossing. “Don’t move.” His palm pins your wrists; the heel of it grinds the bones together until you whine. The other drops to his cock and works himself once, twice, your slick shines on his length.
“Eyes on me.”
“Fuck—” The word breaks as his release lashes hot across your stomach and chest. Cum splashes your throat, a line streaks your collarbone. He doesn’t look away from your face while he watches it drip. Ragged breath. Shuddering shoulders.
He drags two fingers through the mess and paints your lips with it, slow. He pushes his fingers past your tongue. “Suck it up like a good little slut.” You do, cheeks hollowing, and he hums approval when you gag around his knuckles then he pulls free with a wet pop.
Hongjoong smears the rest of his cum across your cheek and jaw, then rubs what’s left into your throat.
“Hands stay.” Your wrists ache deliciously. His palm presses your sternum, shortening your breath; he lifts it just enough to give you air, like charity. Then he kisses you deep, filthy, tasting salt and himself on your tongue. He palms the back of your thigh and hikes it high to his hip. “Round two,” he says like a sentence.
“No—no—” Your thighs slam shut on instinct, trembling violently. Oversensitive doesn’t begin to cover it—every nerve ending feels raw, exposed, like touching a live wire. Your knees knock together as you try to curl away, breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
Hongjoong’s hand catches your knee before you can fully close yourself off. His grip is firm but he doesn’t force—not yet. He watches you shake apart, eyes dark and assessing.
“Too much?” The question sounds almost curious, like he’s cataloging your limits for future reference.
“I can’t—” Your voice breaks on a sob. “Please, I need—just a minute—”
His thumb traces idle circles on your kneecap, a mockery of gentleness while your body still trembles from the aftershocks. “That’s not how this works, love.” He leans down, lips brushing your temple. “You don’t get to decide when we’re done.”
His hand slides up your thigh, not forcing your legs open yet, just resting there with casual ownership. “You know how we end things.” It’s not a question. His eyebrow arches, that familiar challenge, and your stomach drops because you do know. You know exactly what he’s waiting for.
The word sits on your tongue—red. Simple. Final. It would stop everything.
But it won’t come.
“No?” His thumb strokes once, twice, maddeningly gentle against your feverish skin. “Then I’ll make it easy for you.” His voice drops, taking on that edge that makes your pulse stutter. “Three seconds. Say it or I’m not stopping.”
Your breath catches. Every nerve ending screams that you can’t, that you’re too wrecked, too sensitive, too much—
“One.”
The word is right there. Red. Your lips part.
“Two.”
His fingers trail higher, barely a whisper of touch, and you tremble. Your mouth stays open, empty.
“Three.” He waits one more heartbeat, eyes locked on yours, searching. When nothing comes—when you just stare back at him, panting and wrecked and silent—something shifts in his expression. Satisfaction, dark and absolute. “That’s what I thought.”
“Let daddy in.”
Your thighs fall open slowly, a surrender that feels like defeat and relief tangled together. He drags the blunt head through your slick and slaps it against your clit—wet, obscene—once, twice, just to watch your whole body jump. When he pushes in—slow, deliberate, watching every micro-expression that crosses your face—the oversensitivity makes you keen, a broken sound that's half-sob, half-moan.
“Good girl,” Hongjoong murmurs, and doesn’t move. He stays buried to the hilt, making you feel every inch, every slow pulse. Your walls flutter around him and he hisses through his teeth. “Still.”
“Daddy—” You twitch, trying to adjust to the obscene fullness, and his hand clamps your hip hard enough to bruise.
“I said still.” His voice is steel. He shifts a mean millimeter deeper, a promise you’re going to hate loving. “You said you ‘can’t’ anymore? Cute.” He settles like a stake driven into the earth. “Then be useful.” Hongjoong’s hand lifts your thigh and hooks your knee higher, forcing the angle open until the stretch sits deep and electric. “Keep Daddy’s dick warm,” he says, bored and cruel.
Heat licks up your spine. Hongjoong doesn’t thrust. He doesn’t have to. You try to breathe around it. He shifts another millimeter—just a cruel reminder of his thickness—and the sound that leaks out of you is humiliating.
You twitch—instinct, pathetic—and his cock slides against a nerve that makes your whole body jolt. You try to chase it, hips rolling a greedy inch before you can stop yourself.
“Did I say you could move?” His voice cuts through the haze, razor-clean. His palm slams your hip back to the mattress, pinning you flat with bruising force. “Greedy little sleeve. One rule. You can’t even manage one.”
A wrecked whimper leaks out. The stillness is torture—every ridge, every vein, the obscene stretch of him pulsing inside you while your body screams to grind, to rub, to take. Your thighs tremble. Your toes curl like you’re trying to scratch at the air.
“Please—” you gasp, voice shaking. “I need—”
“You need?” He laughs, low and mean. “You need to learn to take what you’ve given.” His fingers dig into your hip, owning the flesh. “Move again and I pull out. I leave you empty and leaking with your little hole clenched around nothing. Is that what you want?”
“N—no, Daddy, please—”
“Then be fucking still.” He settles a breath deeper, a hateful inch that makes you sob, and holds you there like a knife sheathed to the hilt. “Keep me warm like I told you.” His mouth brushes your ear, the smile audible. “Stop acting like a desperate slut who can’t control herself.”
You feel the words burn through you; your walls flutter helplessly around him. You can’t stop the tiny drag of your hips—barely there, shameful—and he feels it immediately.
“Ah‑ah.” He smiles against your cheek.
“Please—” It scrapes out of you, ragged.
“Please what.” Flat as a verdict. “Use your stupid mouth.” His thumb strokes your jaw, mock‑gentle.
Your body shakes with effort. Your calves cramp. “Please—” The word fractures before it can form, dissolving into a sound that’s barely human—just need and surrender wrapped in breath.
The fullness skates the edge of too much; oversensitivity turns every slow beat into bright heat. Hongjoong only watches, pleased and dark, while you struggle to hold still around him. A whimper leaves you, broken and desperate.
“Quiet,” he says, almost bored. “Toys don’t whine.” He shifts deeper just to hear the noise you make. “Hands flat. Eyes open. Count your breaths if you need to. Don’t twitch.”
You count breaths because he told you to and lose the thread at eight, at nine, at nothing, because your body betrays you—tiny flutters you can’t control. Each one earns you a hum against your temple, a lazy squeeze at your throat that says he felt it.
“Pathetic,” he croons finally, sounding pleased.
“Daddy—” slips out again, ruined.
“What do you think you’re going to ask for? You’re full. You’re not getting more. You’re keeping me.”
“Please—”
“Please what?” His voice goes flat. “No babbling, no noise. Full sentence. Ask to be used.”
Shame burns hot. “Please use me, Daddy.”
“Mhm.” He rewards you with a single, slow grind that rolls through you like thunder, then stops dead. “Ask better.”
Your throat tightens. The words stick—humiliating—but his silence is worse, patient and hungry, like he has all night to watch you crack. “Please use me however you want, Daddy,” you whisper, voice breaking. “I’m yours—I’m just—please, I need you to—”
“Need me to what?” His thumb traces your bottom lip, almost tender in a way that makes you want to sob. “Say it clear or I’ll sit inside you and watch you shake until morning.”
“Please fuck me,” you gasp, shame scorching every syllable. “Please—use me like the toy I am. I can’t—Daddy, wreck me, please—”
“There it is.” His smile cuts wicked against your jaw. “See? Useless little mouth can learn.” He drags out of you slow—obscenely slow—until only the tip sits at your entrance. The loss rips a whimper out of you. “Since you asked nicely.”
He slams back in with no warning. Your toes curl hard enough to hurt. Your nails bite your palms. You don’t move. You don’t dare.
“Better,” he decides, and finally gives you motion—small, shallow, nothing like mercy. Short, ruthless strokes that never leave you, just rock deep enough to make your breath hitch on every one. “Count them.”
“One,” you whisper. “Two.” By four your voice shakes. By seven it thins to air. By ten you’ve lost the number and he has to murmur it for you against your mouth, amused.
“Ten,” he says, and nips your bottom lip. “Hopeless little counter.” He pulls out to the edge again and you whine without meaning to. He catches your chin hard. “What did I say about whining?”
“Toys don’t whine,” you breathe, panicked and obedient.
“That’s right.” He slides back in, the stretch a bright, tearing relief, and sets a new pace that is nothing like earlier—just deep and slow and devastating, like he’s proving he can keep you here forever.
You feel it rising again—desperation clawing up your throat, that helpless way your body starts chasing friction on its own. Your hips twitch forward, greedy without permission. His fingers bite down instantly.
“Stop.” Ice-cold.
But you don’t. You can’t. You’re wrecked and stupid with need, and your body rolls again—small, hungry little pulses that betray every order he’s given you. A whine slips out, high and broken.
“Daddy, please—I can’t—I need more, please—”
“You can’t?” His voice drops to something dangerous. “Or you won’t?”
“I can’t—” Another whimper. Your hips buck again, chasing the friction he’s withholding, and the sound that leaves you is pathetic. “Please, Daddy, I need—need you to move, need it harder, need—”
He goes dead still inside you. The absence of movement is worse than any punishment.
“Greedy little thing,” he says, tone flat with disappointment. “I give you my cock to keep warm and you can’t even manage that without turning into a whining, desperate mess.”
“I’m sorry—” You’re babbling now, words tripping over themselves. “I’m sorry, Daddy, please—just—please fuck me, I’ll be good—”
“You’ll be good?” He laughs—sharp, cruel, joyless. “You’re not being good now. You’re being a greedy slut who can’t follow a single fucking instruction.” His hand slides from your hip to your throat—fingers wrapping lightly. Your pulse hammers against his palm. “I don’t like you like this.”
It hits like a slap. Shame floods hot and immediate, and still your body trembles, still clenching around him, still needing.
“Please—”
“Please what? Please keep giving you what you clearly can’t handle?” He shifts just enough to make you whine, then stops again. “You’re not ready for more. You can’t even take what I’ve already given you without falling apart.”
“I can—I can take it—” Your voice breaks on a sob.
“No.” Firm. Final. “You can’t. Look at you. Shaking and whining and begging like you forgot how to be still.” His thumb strokes your throat once—almost gentle, which makes it worse. “I told you to be useful. Instead you’re being pathetic.”
The disappointment punches something open in your chest. You force yourself still—every muscle screaming—swallowing the whine clawing up your tongue. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, small and wrecked. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
He watches you for a long, measuring beat. Then, slowly, he withdraws completely. The emptiness is a knife.
“Daddy—no—please—”
“Quiet.” The word drops like a brick. He stays out of you, cock wet against your slit, heat without mercy. “You want more when you can’t even fucking hold still?” His laugh is flat and ugly.
Your chest hitches. “Daddy, I—”
“Don’t talk.” He drags the swollen head through your slick once, slow, and you gasp like a drowning thing. The emptiness screams. “You don’t get my cock. You get consequence.”
“Do you want Daddy to go find himself another hole?” His words hit like acid, eating under your skin. “A quiet one. An obedient sleeve that doesn’t twitch, doesn’t whine, doesn’t make me repeat myself like I’m training a puppy.”
“No—” It tears out of you, small and panicked. “No, Daddy, please—”
“No?” Hongjoong sounds almost curious, like he’s already halfway out the door. “Because you’re not acting like you want to keep me. You’re acting like a spoiled toy that forgot what it’s for.”
“I do—I want to keep you—” Your voice breaks. “Please don’t—I’ll be good, I promise—”
“You promised to stay still five fucking minutes ago and look where that got us.” His thumb drags across your bottom lip, cruelly tender. “Maybe I should find a hole that knows how to listen. One that doesn’t babble, doesn’t beg, and doesn’t forget every rule the second it gets full.”
The image scalds—him leaving you empty and shaking while he goes somewhere else—and the sob that rips free is ugly.
“Please, Daddy—please—I’ll do better, I swear—don’t leave, please don’t, I need you—”
“Need me?” His voice goes flat. “You need to learn to fucking behave.” He drags the head of his cock on your swollen clit like a threat and your body jerks up desperately. “See? Even now you can’t stay still.”
“I’m sorry—I’m sorry—” Tears slip hot into your hair. “I’ll be good, I promise, please just—stay—”
“One. More. Chance.” Soft and lethal. “You twitch, you whine, you breathe wrong—and I’m done with you tonight. I’ll go find that quiet hole, and you can hump the sheet and think about why I left.”
The burn in your eyes sharpens.
“Say the rule.”
You swallow. “Keep—keep you warm.”
“At a minimum.” He taps the head against your clit again—light, mean—once. Your twitch and his hand locks your pelvis to the mattress with bruising pressure. “And you couldn’t even fucking do that.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, shaking.
“I don’t want sorry. I want silent, still, useful.” He lays the fat tip at your entrance and holds it there. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to keep me right here and not twitch. You breathe wrong, we reset. You beg wrong, we reset. You whine, you don’t get me at all.”
“Daddy—”
“Start.” His thumb presses your throat, not choking, just owning. “Five breaths.”
You count, voice wrecked and tiny. One. Two. Your body claws for friction and he hears the minuscule drag in your hips like it’s a confession.
“Reset,” he says, bored. The head lifts off you. The loss is a knife. He sets it back and you whine before you can strangle it.
“Reset.” He smiles without warmth.
Shame burns through you. “Please—” You bite it off and force your lungs to move. One. Two. Three. At four he ghosts the head forward—no entry, just stretch on the skin—and you hiccup a sound you barely recognise.
“Reset,” he repeats, almost amused now. “We’d be done by now if you weren’t such a needy fuckup.”
“I can do it.”
“Doubt it.” He pats your cheek condescendingly. “But try again.”
You count, lips trembling. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
He stares down at you, unimpressed. “Now thank me for not fucking you.”
The sentence scrapes your throat raw. “Thank you for not fucking me, Daddy.”
He hums, pleased—and disappointed anyway. “Again, like you mean it.”
“Thank you for not fucking me,” you rush the words out, “For making me still. For making me useful.”
“Finally.” The head presses, a murderous inch, then stops dead inside—no thrust, just fullness that feels like a verdict. You choke on a sound; his fingers tighten on your jaw.
“Now you hold me there and you don’t move,” he says, low and lethal.
Your body locks into place, every muscle screaming against the stillness. The stretch sits there—barely inside, not enough, too much—and he doesn't move. Just watches you shake around that single cruel inch, his expression flat and clinical, like he's studying how long it takes before you break again.
He watches your thighs quiver around that single inch like he’s timing a lab experiment. “Three breaths,” he says, voice clinical. “Earn another inch.”
You breathe. One. Two. On three your belly flutters; he feels it. The head slides in a second inch and stops dead. You whimper through your teeth.
“Again. Three.”
You make it, barely—every nerve screaming—and he feeds you another inch like he’s measuring with a ruler. “See?” he murmurs, disappointed anyway. “When you shut up and follow orders you almost pass for useful.”
“Daddy—”
His palm covers your mouth, not to mute, to own.
He waits, indifferent to the shake, then seats the rest in a slow, inevitable push and locks your hips to the mattress. Utterly full. Utterly still.
“There.” His fingers tap your jaw, condescending. “Now ask me for nothing.”
You swallow hard, nod against his palm because language might ruin you. He smiles—cold, pleased—and starts the smallest motion imaginable, a cruel internal drag that never lets you chase. Your body tries anyway. He feels the microscopic reach.
“Aaand there she is,” he sighs, disgusted.
“On your fucking knees,” he says, voice flat and final. “Ass up.”
He pulls out completely—the emptiness is brutal—and you scramble to obey, limbs clumsy with need. Your knees hit the mattress, your chest drops, and you arch your back the way he likes, presenting yourself like an apology.
“Higher.” His palm cracks across your ass—sharp, unforgiving—and you gasp, lifting until your spine curves obscene. “There. Now stay exactly like that and think about why you're here instead of full of my cock.”
The air feels too cold on your exposed cunt. You hear him move behind you, deliberate and unhurried, and the anticipation is its own kind of torture. His hand smooths over the curve of your ass once—almost tender—then his palm comes down again, harder. The sound cracks through the room.
“Count.”
“One,” you breathe, shaking.
Another, lower—right on the tender hinge where ass meets thigh. You jerk, then wrench yourself back into place.
“Two—”
“Louder. Like you fucking mean it.”
The next lands before your mouth can catch up. You yelp. “Three!”
“Better.” He pauses, fingers trailing through the slick mess between your thighs, not giving you anything, just reminding you what you're not getting. The touch is featherlight—clinical, almost—and it makes you ache harder than if he'd pressed down with intent. Your clit throbs where his knuckles barely graze it, swollen and desperate, and the emptiness inside you feels like a wound. Every nerve ending screams for more.
“Why are you here?”
“Because I couldn’t stay still—couldn’t—”
“Because you’re greedy.” The slap is vicious and precise. “Four.”
“Four,” you sob.
“Because you take what I give you and immediately beg for more like it’s not enough.” His hand comes down again, twice in quick succession, and you lose count, scrambling to catch up.
“Five—six—“
“Pathetic.” He sounds disgusted and pleased at the same time. His knuckles skim the burn, then slide meanly through your slick, circle your clit once and abandon it like a test you failed. The touch makes you clench around nothing, empty and aching, every nerve ending screaming for more pressure, more contact, more of him. The abandonment feels like a punishment you can’t name—your body chasing something he’s already taken away. “Still dripping. Still desperate. Still not listening.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy—”
“You will be.” His fist knots in your hair, yanking your face off the sheet. “We keep going until your body remembers how to obey. You twitch or gasp wrong, we reset to one.”
The next strike lands; you choke the whimper into your teeth and hold. “Seven!”
“Let’s see you make it to ten without falling apart.”
Eight snaps high on the curve; nine brutal on the sit spot. You bite the inside of your cheek until you taste iron and force the numbers out steady—“Eight. Nine.”—and you don’t move.
Ten comes down perfect, right where it hurts prettiest.
“Ten.” Your voice is raw but even. Silence drops heavy around it.
“Look at that,” he murmurs, palm smoothing over the heat, reverent like he’s polishing his work. “Directions aren’t complicated when you’re not busy failing.”
His fingers trace the marks he’s left, then slide lower, through the slick mess between your thighs. You bite down hard on your lip to keep from making a sound, from pushing back into his touch.
“Don’t you dare chase,” he says softly.
You lock your hips but Hongjoong rewards you with nothing. Then—finally, cruelly—one slow circle on your clit that makes your calves charlie-horse and your lungs forget.
You wait. You hold perfectly still, thighs shaking, breathing shallow through your nose. You wait for the praise—for him to tell you you’re good, that you’ve finally done it right, that you’ve earned something. The silence stretches. His thumb stays maddeningly light, circling without pressure, and the words don't come.
They’re not coming.
The realisation settles cold in your chest even as heat coils tighter in your belly. He’s not going to give it to you.
“Please,” you whisper, a thread. “Please tell me I did good.”
Hongjoong’s hand stills. The silence stretches, and you feel the weight of his gaze on you.
“Ask properly.”
You swallow hard, forcing the words out even as shame and need tangle in your chest. “Please, Daddy. Please tell me I’m good. I need to hear it. I need to know I did well.”
His thumb resumes—tight, deliberate circles that you meet with perfect stillness because you want the words more than air. “You want praise?” he asks, almost curious. “After the shitshow you put on?”
“I made it to ten,” you rasp. “I stayed still. I didn’t move.”
“You finally did what you were told,” he concedes. Pressure sharpens and every muscle in you locks so you don’t grind into it. “Miracles.”
“Please,” you breathe. “Please, Daddy—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Hongjoong says, voice flat. His thumb stops mid-circle and lifts off entirely. “I didn’t ask for begging. I asked for obedience.”
The loss of contact is devastating. You bite back a whimper, holding position even as your thighs shake.
“You think making it to ten earns you anything?” He sounds almost bored now, disgusted. “That’s the bare minimum of not being completely fucking useless.”
Your eyes burn. You keep your face pressed to the sheet, don’t move, don’t speak.
“You want praise for doing what you should’ve done the first time?” His hand comes down once more on your ass. “For finally shutting up and following a simple fucking instruction?”
Silence. You don’t answer because he didn’t ask a question you’re allowed to respond to.
“That’s what I thought.” His fingers trail back between your thighs, maddeningly light, and you hold so still you forget to breathe. “You don’t get praise for meeting expectations. You get my cock when you exceed them.” His voice drops, cruel and clinical. “And you? You’re so far below the bar I’d need a fucking shovel to find where you started. You think ten slaps and some tears make you special? You’re not even average. You’re just finally less of a disappointment than you were five minutes ago.”
His fist knots in your hair again and yanks you upright—sharp, brutal—until your spine arcs and your knees scream against the mattress. Your scalp burns; your throat opens on a gasp you can’t swallow back.
“Look at me.” His voice is low, final. You force your eyes open, vision blurred, and meet his gaze. It’s flat. Clinical. Like he’s deciding whether you’re worth the effort.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He tightens his grip until tears spring hot and immediate. “Attention. Validation. My fucking time.”
You can’t nod—his hold won’t let you—so you whisper it, wrecked. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Then stop fucking wasting it.” He drags you closer by the hair, your body folding backward, chest exposed, throat vulnerable. “Stop begging for praise you haven’t earned. Stop moving when I tell you to be still. Stop acting like you don’t know exactly what I expect from you.”
He releases your hair and you collapse forward, gasping. Before you can catch your breath, his hands are on your hips, hauling you upright and off the bed entirely. Your legs don’t work right—numb and shaking—but Hongjoong doesn't care, dragging you across the room until your palms hit cold glass.
“Hands flat,” he orders, positioning you facing the window. The city glitters below, oblivious. “Don’t you fucking move them.”
You press your palms to the glass, the chill biting into your overheated skin. The window is floor-to-ceiling, and you’re on the twentieth floor—exposed, visible if anyone bothered to look up. The thought makes your stomach drop.
“Daddy—“ you start, voice thin with panic.
“I don’t remember asking you to speak.” His hand lands between your shoulder blades, forcing your chest forward until your breasts press flat against the glass. The cold shocks through you, nipples hardening instantly, and you gasp at the contrast. “You wanted my attention? Congratulations. Now everyone down there gets a front-row seat to what happens when you finally shut the fuck up and do what you’re told.”
His breath is hot against your ear as he leans in closer, caging you against the window. “Look at them. All those people going about their boring little lives, and if even one of them glanced up right now, they’d see you—spread out, dripping, desperate. They’d see exactly what kind of slut you are. The kind who begs for cock pressed against a window twenty floors up.”
He grinds his hips forward slightly, not entering yet, just letting you feel the threat of it. “Think about it. Some guy walking his dog. Some woman coming home from work. And there you are—tits against the glass, ass out, waiting to be fucked like you’re on display. Like you’re a show I’m putting on for the whole goddamn city.”
He kicks your feet apart, wider than stable, until you’re on display—open, vulnerable. His hand trails down your spine, over the burning marks on your ass, then lower.
“Stay exactly like this,” he says, voice deadly calm. “Hands on the glass. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound."
You feel him line up behind you, the blunt pressure of his cock against your entrance. Your breath fogs the window. Every instinct screams to push back, to take what you need, but you lock your muscles and hold.
“Everyone can see you,” he says, breath hot against your ear as he leans over you, caging you between his body and the glass. “See how desperate you are.”
The angle is punishing. He bottoms out so deep you feel it in your throat then he pulls to the edge and shoves back in in one rude stroke. Your gasp splashes white on the glass. Hongjoong watches it bloom and fade and times the next thrust to erase it. He does not tease. He does not test. He just takes—hips snapping in a pace with no mercy—each impact a proof that your body belongs exactly where he’s putting it. When your thighs start to shake he only tightens his hand at your hip, grinding you into the glass so the cold bites your nipples and the heat bites everywhere else
Your reflection stares back at you—fucked out, wrecked, mouth open on silent gasps you’re not allowed to voice.
“This is what you needed,” he continues, rhythm brutal and unrelenting. “Not praise. Not softness. Just someone to put you exactly where you belong and fuck the desperation out of you until you remember how to behave.”
Your legs are shaking so hard you can barely stand, but his grip on your hips is iron, holding you in place, keeping you upright and on display as he uses you against the window.
You’re e so full. The stretch is devastating—not painful, but so complete it rewires every nerve ending, makes you hyperaware of every inch of him inside you. Your body clenches reflexively, trying to adjust, and the friction makes your breath stutter. He’s so deep you feel it in your stomach, a pressure that borders on too much but somehow isn’t enough.
The heat of him is overwhelming. You can feel every throb, every shift of his hips, the way he fills every space until there’s nothing left but him. Your walls flutter around his length, trying to accommodate, trying to hold on, and the sensation makes your head spin.
You feel owned. Claimed. Like your body was made specifically for this—for him to fill and use and shape however he wants. The thought makes you clench again, and you hear his breath catch behind you.
Hongjoong’s hand clamps your hip and drags you back onto him while his mouth finds the slope where neck becomes shoulder. He bites—hard, deliberate—until your breath splinters on the glass, then sucks wickedly slow to pull the bruise up dark and pretty. “Mine,” he says into the mark, not for you, for the mirror of your face in the window.
Rings grind into your skin as his fingers hike your waist higher, leaving crescent dents along your side. He shifts his grip to your ass and you almost hiss—the flesh is still burning from before, hypersensitive—but he doesn’t care, squeezing until your skin crests his knuckles. Then he smacks the same handprint in place—once, twice, a third time—each impact landing on already-raw skin that makes you gasp sharp and broken into the glass.
His mouth trails lower, teeth scraping the curve where your shoulder meets your throat. He sucks hard enough to sting, working the skin until you feel the heat bloom under his lips. When he pulls back, you know there's a mark—dark and obvious, a claim you'll see tomorrow and every day after until it fades.
“Everyone’s going to know,” he murmurs against your skin, moving to a new spot. His teeth catch again, sharper this time, and you whimper before you can stop yourself. He doesn’t scold you for it. Instead, he hums, pleased, and works his way across your throat, your collarbone, the top of your shoulder—each love bite deliberate, territorial. His tongue soothes over the marks before his teeth return, and the contrast makes you dizzy. Your reflection in the glass shows the trail he’s leaving. A constellation of bruises that spell out exactly who you belong to.
“Prettier when you bruise,” he murmurs, and you feel him smile against your throat. He shoves your wrists wider on the glass, laces his fingers over yours so you can’t hide the way you shake, and fucks you harder—short, piston drives that press your chest flat and stamp the rhythm into your spine. Your breath paints messy halos on the pane. Hongjoong leans forward and bites your ear, low laugh ugly against your skin.
His mouth moves to the curve of your neck, lips dragging slow over the sensitive skin just below your ear. The gentleness is unexpected—devastating. Your body doesn’t know what to do with tender after brutal, and the contrast hits like a live wire. He kisses once, soft, then again lower, and your breath catches wrong in your chest.
“Daddy—“ you try to warn him, but it comes out broken.
“Quiet,” he murmurs against your throat, and kisses you again. His lips are warm, almost reverent as they trail down to your shoulder, and the rhythm of his hips never falters—still deep, still unrelenting, but now paired with this impossible softness that’s unraveling you faster than anything brutal ever could.
It builds wrong. Too fast. You weren’t ready for it—one second you’re holding on, the next you’re free-falling, your orgasm slamming into you without warning. Your whole body locks up, spine arcing away from the glass as the pleasure rips through you in violent, uncontrollable waves. He feels the clamp coming—a greedy, panicked grab—and rips out in one brutal drag.
The world snaps wrong. Heat turns to air, slick to cold, friction to nothing. Your cry out raw and too loud, fog exploding across the glass in a white star. Your thighs slam together on instinct and find only his palm, flat and merciless, forcing your knees wide again. Everything skids, your body still pitched for impact while the impact is gone, nerves misfiring, the ache in your belly pitching higher with nowhere to go. Your clit throbs, your calves seize, your nipples spark on the pane.
“Did I say you could cum, you filthy slut?” His voice is ice and venom.
”Please-” Your voice cracks into a ragged wail you can’t swallow. The sound embarrasses you even as it keeps coming-thin, high, animal-your chest scraping the glass as you shudder.
“Shut your fucking mouth.” Hongjoong’s hand clamps your jaw brutal and drags your open mouth to the window so you hear yourself against the pane-hot breath, pathetic little whimpers bouncing back. “Disgusting. Look at this mess.” Two fingers slide through the slick pouring out of you and slap your clit mean, the sting bright and metallic and your whole body jerks like a current ran through you. “Dripping like a bitch in heat. You’re fucking pathetic.”
He does it again-lighter, crueler-just enough to sharpen the ache and keep it blooming. “Greedy cunt couldn't wait, could she?” The cold on your front feels like punishment, the heat at your back feels like a dare. You can taste blood where you bit your tongue, you can feel his ring scrape your hip as he drags your pelvis higher and pins you there, open and empty and shaking. “Worthless little whore. Can’t follow one simple fucking rule.”
“Could’ve asked. Could’ve been good. But no-you had to be a desperate fucking cumslut,” he snarls at your reflection, voice dripping contempt. He paints your hipbone with your own slick like a stripe, degrading, then presses his thumb into the fresh bruise on your shoulder hard enough to make you gasp. “Now hold it and suffer.”
Your body argues in every language it has—fluttering, pleading squeezes at nothing, a pulse between your legs that hurts, a tremor you can’t stop—while he gives you exactly no motion where you need it and too much where you can’t take it. He bites the hinge of your jaw, sucks until colour swells up pretty and dark, and when your breath stutters toward that helpless climb again, he taps your clit once—just once—and the wave collapses with a sob that fogs the glass and runs. “Filthy fucking thing. This is what disobedient sluts get.”
Your body is betraying you—hips rolling in tiny, desperate circles even though he’s not inside you anymore, chasing friction that isn’t there. The orgasm he denied you earlier left everything raw and oversensitive, and now every nerve ending is screaming for release. Your clit throbs in time with your pulse, swollen and aching, and the emptiness inside you feels like a physical wound.
You can feel it building again—that terrible, inevitable climb. Your thighs are shaking so hard they might give out. Heat pools low in your belly, coiling tighter with each ragged breath. It’s different this time—sharper, more desperate, edged with something that feels dangerously close to panic because you know what happens if you fall over without permission.
“Daddy—please—” Your voice cracks on the plea. “I need—I can’t—”
The pressure builds and builds, your body pulled taut as a wire, every muscle locked in anticipation of a release you’re not allowed to have. You’re so close it hurts—that edge right there, shimmering just out of reach, and your body keeps reaching for it anyway, mindless and greedy and completely beyond your control.
His fingers barely touch your clit, just the ghost of pressure—and begin to circle with agonising slowness. Not enough to give relief, just enough to make everything worse. Each lazy pass sends sparks shooting through your nerves, stoking the fire instead of quenching it.
“You gonna try cumming again without permission?” His laugh is cruel against your ear, all sharp edges. His hand spreads over your throat, thumb under your jaw to keep your face to the window, forcing you to watch yourself fall apart. “Be still. Feel every second of what you don’t deserve. Feel it, you needy little whore.”
Your body doesn’t listen—can’t listen. The orgasm crashes through you anyway, ripping a broken cry from your throat as you clench and pulse around nothing. Your legs give out completely, only his grip on your throat keeping you upright against the glass as pleasure tears through you in waves you can’t control.
“Did I fucking say you could?” Hongjoong’s voice is ice.
Your vision blurs with tears—shame and oversensitivity and the cruel ache of cumming empty. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry—I couldn’t—”
“Pathetic.” He releases your throat and you crumple, legs buckling, but he catches you by the hips before you hit the floor.
Hongjoong peels you off the window by the back of your neck and walks you to the bed like he owns the hinge of every joint. The mattress hits the backs of your knees, he doesn’t guide you down so much as throw you, a bounce knocking a breathless sound out of you.
His hand cracks across your face—not hard enough to hurt, but sharp enough to snap your attention back to him. The sting blooms hot across your cheek, shocking you into stillness.
“Eyes on me,” he commands, voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you dare look away.”
He slaps you again—same cheek, harder this time—and the sound that rips from your throat is pure, shameless need. A moan, broken and desperate, that makes his eyes go dark.
“Fuck,” he breathes, almost reverent. His thumb traces the reddened skin, the heat of it blooming under his touch. “You like that, don’t you?”
Before you can answer, he slaps you again—lighter this time, almost playful—and watches your pupils blow wide. “Yeah,” he confirms, reading your body like a book he’s memorised. “You fucking love it.”
He’s on you a second later—knee between yours, shoving them wide—hands mean on your hips as he lines up and drives in with one brutal stroke that punches the air out of you.
“Quiet,” he snaps, palm clamping over your mouth. “Swallow it.”
Your moan dies behind his hand, trapped in your throat where it burns. No easing, no rhythm—just slam, slam, slam—his pelvis clapping your thighs, the headboard starting to complain in hard little knocks that match your pulse. The angle is obscene with your hips tipped; each drag feels like he’s stripping you to the studs and hammering you back together wrong. Every sound you want to make gets caught behind his palm, building pressure in your chest until you’re choking on your own desperation.
“Look at me,” he grits. You do—eyes glassy—and it only makes him rougher. Heat builds thick and fast in your belly again, that off‑the‑cliff drop, the ache and burn at your clit. The sounds are wet and humiliating and loud, but your moans stay trapped—swallowed down like he ordered, leaving only the whimpers that leak through your nose and the desperate way you’re breathing against his palm.
Hongjoong’s close—you can feel it in the way his breathing saws, in the vicious set of his mouth, in the way his rhythm goes intent and ugly, grinding at the end of each thrust like he’s carving his name into the spot that makes you see static. His hand stays firm over your mouth, forcing you to take it in silence, to keep every wrecked sound locked inside where only you can feel how thoroughly he’s breaking you apart. You catch the first stutter in his hips and reach for him without thinking, greedy, pleading.
“Don’t.” The word is a snarl. He stuffs you full and holds there, cock thick and pulsing inside you, then drags out slow enough to scrape sparks and snaps back in hard enough to jolt your spine. “You don’t deserve Daddy’s cum.”
The sentence lands like a slap. Heat spikes behind your eyes; your body clenches around him in panicked apology.
“Please—” you manage against his palm, the word muffled and desperate.
“You need to learn.” Another slam—deep, punishing—and the next rolls through you like thunder, heavy grind at the end that drags a high, torn sound from your throat.
Your hands scramble for purchase on his shoulders, nails digging in, but he catches both wrists in one hand and pins them above your head. His other hand finally leaves your mouth.
“Please,” you sob, shameless now. “Please fill me—please let me have it—I’ll hold it—I’ll be good—”
He laughs—short, cruel—breath burning your cheek. “Will you?” His hand slides to your throat, thumb under your jaw to tilt your face up so he can watch you fall apart. “Say it properly.”
“Please, Daddy,” you gasp, voice breaking on the word. “Please cum inside me. I need it. I need you. I’ll keep it. I’ll—” Your voice knifes up because he grinds just right and the lights stipple again. “Please—I’ll be useful—please—”
His control frays; you feel it in the nasty little shiver that runs through him, in the way he clamps your hip like it’s the only thing stopping him from painting you from the inside. He bares his teeth, eyes sharp and dark. “Beg better.”
“Please—use me properly—mark me from the inside—please, Daddy—”
“Mhm.” The sound is a threat and a promise. He slams you deeper, deeper, harder—headboard knocking time, breath brutal at your ear—then rips out at the last second and fists himself once, twice, the wet slick of you shining his length while you wail.
“No—no, please—" The words tumble out desperate and broken. You reach for him with shaking hands, shameless now, all pride dissolved. “Please fill me up—mark me—use me—” You’re babbling, hips canting up obscenely, trying to tempt him back.
His eyes darken as he watches you fall apart, a cruel smirk playing at his lips. “Look at you,” he breathes, voice dripping with condescension. “Begging like a bitch in heat.” His fist keeps working himself, slow and deliberate, making you watch every stroke.
Your thighs spread wider without him asking, presenting yourself like an offering. “Please cum in me—I'm begging—I'll do anything—” Tears stream down your face, your voice cracking. “Need to feel you—need Daddy’s cum so bad—please don’t waste it—please use my hole.”
“Shut the fuck up.” His voice is dead calm, which makes it worse. “You think you deserve Daddy’s cum?" He laughs—short, cruel. “No. You’re going to lie there empty and watch me waste it. Watch what you don’t get to have.” His eyes are vicious, mouth twisted. “Pathetic little cumslut can’t even follow simple fucking rules. Open your eyes wider. I want you to see every drop you’re not getting.”
“Please, Daddy,” you sob, voice breaking on every word. “Please use your cumslut—please fuck me —I’ll be so good—I’ll take everything—please.”
You look at him—eyes glassed, mouth open, body clenching on nothing—while he edges himself cruelly, letting every half-breath of relief flash and die on his face. He squeezes himself hard, strangling the tremor, and lets the edge bleed away while you sob beneath him, trembling empty and open.
His hand fists in your hair, “What are you?"
“A slut,” you whimper, shame burning through you.
“A what?” He pulls harder, making you gasp.
“A pathetic slut—Daddy’s pathetic slut—”
“That’s right.” He releases your hair with a shove, letting your head fall back against the mattress. “And you love it,” he continues, voice dark with satisfaction. “Love being Daddy’s desperate fucktoy. Love being used and degraded and filled up like the greedy whore you are.”
“Yes,” you sob, because it’s true, because you can’t deny it when your body is still trembling with need.
“Tell me what you are.”
“I’m Daddy’s greedy whore,” you gasp out, shame and arousal twisting together. “I’m a desperate cumslut—I’m pathetic—I need you—”
“Fucking right you do.”
Then he flips you onto your stomach before you can process it, one hand shoving between your shoulder blades to pin you flat. The sheets are hot against your cheek, your breath trapped in the mattress.
“Stay down," Hongjoong orders, voice low and mean behind you. You feel him shift, feel the mattress dip as he repositions, and then his hands are on your hips, dragging them up, arching your back until you’re presented exactly how he wants you. You’re face-down, ass up, completely exposed with no way to see what he’s doing, no way to brace for what comes next. Your fingers twist in the sheets.
“Daddy—” you start, voice muffled.
“No,” he cuts you off. “You don’t get to look at me. You don’t get to see if I’m close. You just take what I give you and be grateful.”
He lines up and shoves in without warning, the angle deeper like this, meaner. Your cry gets swallowed by the pillow as he sets a brutal pace, hips slamming against your ass with each thrust. The sound is obscene—skin on skin, the wet slide of him inside you—and you can’t see any of it, can only feel and hear and drown in it.
“You’re lucky Daddy loves your hole,” he growls, and the words hit like a brand. His hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp crack echoing in the room. The sting blooms hot and immediate, and you whimper into the pillow.
“Lucky I don’t leave you empty and aching.” He punctuates it with another thrust, deeper, meaner, grinding at the end until you’re sobbing. “This greedy little cunt,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Always so desperate for me. Always begging so pretty.”
“Say it,” he demands. “Say you’re lucky.”
“I’m—I’m lucky,” you gasp out, voice wrecked and muffled. “I’m lucky Daddy loves my—”
“Louder.”
“I’m lucky Daddy loves my hole,” you sob, shame and arousal twisting together until you can’t tell them apart.
“That’s right.” His rhythm turns vicious, each thrust punching the words back into you. “Don’t you forget it.”
“Please, Daddy—please—I'll do anything—I'll be so good—please just fill me—please cum inside me—” You sob again, pushing back against him even though you know better, trying to take him deeper. His breath hitches and you chase it, sensing weakness.
His hand finds your clit immediately, two fingers pressing down with just enough pressure to make you jolt. “This what you needed?” he asks as he starts to rub tight, mean circles that have you gasping.
“Yes—fuck—yes, Daddy—” You can barely get the words out, your whole body arcing up into his touch. His fingers work your clit in ruthless little circles while he fucks into you, the dual sensation making your vision blur at the edges.
“Gonna make you cum on my cock this time,” he growls. “Gonna feel you squeeze me while you fall apart.” His fingers speed up, the pressure perfect and devastating, and you’re already so close you can taste it.
“Please—Daddy—I can't—” Your voice breaks, thighs shaking so hard you can barely hold yourself up. The pressure builds too fast, too much, coiling tight in your belly until it feels like something’s going to snap.
“You can,” he snarls, “You will. Show Daddy what a good little slut you are.”
The angle shifts just enough and suddenly you’re there again—past the point of holding back, past the point of control. Your orgasm slams through you with brutal force, and this time it’s different. Wetter. Your whole body locks up as you gush around him, soaking his cock, the sheets, making a mess you can’t stop even if you wanted to. The sound that rips from your throat is inhuman.
“Fuck—” Hongjoong chokes out, and his rhythm shatters. “Fuck—that’s it—” He feels you clenching and pulsing around him, feels the hot rush of your release, and it destroys him. Three more brutal thrusts and he’s gone, slamming deep and grinding as he finally, finally fills you. You feel every pulse, every throb as he empties himself inside you, his groan low and wrecked against your spine.
His hips stutter through the aftershocks, grinding shallow like he can’t bear to pull out yet. Your body is still twitching, still clenching around him in weak little aftershocks while his cum starts to leak out around where you’re joined. He stays buried deep, breathing hard against your shoulder blade.
“Good girl,” he finally murmurs, voice hoarse. “Such a good fucking girl for me.”
He doesn't pull out. Instead, his hips roll forward again, fucking his cum deeper into you, the obscene wet sound making you whimper. “One more,” he growls against your ear, his voice rough and commanding. “Give me one more.”
“Daddy—I can’t—” Your voice breaks, oversensitive and wrecked, every nerve ending screaming. It hurts—the drag of him inside you feels like fire, too much sensation on already brutalised nerves. You try to squirm away but his grip on your hips is iron.
“You can.” His hand slides back to your clit, fingers still slick, and starts those same ruthless circles. The first touch makes you sob—it’s too much, bordering on painful, your body trying to reject the stimulation. “You’re going to cum on my cock again with my cum inside you. Going to make a bigger mess.”
The sensation is overwhelming—too much, too sensitive—and it hurts. Each thrust feels like he’s grinding against raw nerves, the wet slide obscene and filthy but painful in its intensity. You can feel his cum leaking out around him, coating your thighs, but all you can focus on is how much your body is screaming at you to stop.
“Daddy—please—it hurts—” you sob, tears streaming down your face.
Hongjoong stills immediately. Completely. His fingers freeze on your clit, his hips lock in place, and the sudden absence of movement is almost jarring after the relentless intensity.
“Colour,” he demands, voice cutting through the haze with sharp clarity. “Give me your colour right now.”
You’re gasping, trying to process the question through the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.
“Green,” you manage to choke out between sobs.
“Don't lie to me.”
“Green,” you repeat, more firmly this time despite how wrecked your voice sounds. “Promise—it's green—just hurts—overwhelming— don’t stop”
“I know,” he murmur gently, his hips moving again. “I know it hurts, baby. Just breathe through it.”
You try to obey, gasping for air, and somewhere in the burning oversensitivity, something shifts. The pain doesn’t disappear, but it starts to blur at the edges, transmuting into something else. Your body adjusts to the intensity, and suddenly the hurt starts to feel good—sharp and bright and desperate.
“Feel that?” he asks, grinding deep. “Feel how full you are? That’s all Daddy’s cum, and you’re going to squeeze it out when you cum again.”
“Please—” The word comes out broken because you don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore. His fingers work your clit with practiced cruelty, and the oversensitivity that was making you sob is suddenly driving you higher. You can feel it building again—impossibly, devastatingly—your wrecked body finding another peak despite everything.
“That’s it,” he encourages, voice dark with satisfaction. “Knew you could take it. Feel you getting close again. Such a greedy little thing. Can’t get enough of daddy’s cock, can you?”
“No—no, I can't—” you gasp, pushing back against him mindlessly. The pressure builds impossibly fast, sharp and brutal and bright now instead of painful. Every nerve that was screaming in protest is now singing, driving you toward the edge with vicious intent.
“Come on,” Hongjoong growls, his fingers pressing harder, circling faster. “Give it to me. Show Daddy what a mess you can make.” His cock grinds deep, hitting that devastating angle. “Cum on Daddy’s cock right fucking now.”
Your body obeys before your mind catches up, the orgasm ripping through you with devastating force. You clench around him so hard it hurts, your walls spasming and tightening in a vice grip. The sound you make is broken and desperate, somewhere between a scream and a sob.
“Fuck—” Hongjoong chokes out, his rhythm faltering. “Fuck—you’re so tight—” His voice breaks on the last word because you’re squeezing him so hard he can barely move, your body milking him with each brutal pulse. “Gonna make me—fuck—”
He doesn’t get to finish the sentence. Your cunt clamps down on him one more time and it destroys him completely. He slams deep with a guttural groan, grinding against you as he cums again, harder this time, filling you even fuller. You feel every throb, every pulse as he empties himself inside you for the second time, his whole body shuddering against your back.
“That's my good girl,” he gasps out, voice wrecked. “Making such a pretty mess for Daddy. So fucking tight—milked it right out of me.”
You gush again—harder this time, wetter—your body wringing itself out around him in pulsing waves while his cum floods you. The release is so intense it borders on violent, liquid heat flooding between your legs, soaking everything. You feel it run down your thighs, hear it drip onto the already-ruined sheets, and the humiliation of it only makes you clench harder, forcing more of his release to leak out around where you’re joined.
“There it is,” Hongjoong breathes, reverent and filthy at once. “So fucking messy for me.” His hips keep grinding shallow, working you both through it, forcing every last drop out while you shake and sob beneath him. “Such a good little squirter. Making Daddy so proud.”
Your whole body goes limp, muscles giving out completely. You collapse face-first into the mattress, boneless and used, trembling with aftershocks. Hongjoong finally stills, cock still buried deep, and lets his weight settle against your back. His breathing is ragged against your neck.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your sweat-slick shoulder. “You did so fucking perfect, baby. Squeezed me so tight I couldn’t help it.”
You can’t move, can’t think, can barely breathe. The sheets beneath you are soaked—cum and your own release mixing in a cooling puddle. Hongjoong shifts slightly, cock still buried deep, and you whimper at the oversensitivity. You can feel how full you are, how much he’s filled you, and it leaks out in thick rivulets with even the smallest movement.
When he finally pulls out, the loss is immediate and devastating. You whine—high and broken—feeling unbearably empty after being so full. His cum starts to leak out in earnest now, thick and warm, dripping down your thighs in slow rivulets. The sensation makes you shudder.
“Shh,” Hongjoong soothes, his hand stroking down your spine. He shifts his weight, hands sliding under your shoulders as he carefully rolls you onto your back. Your body settles against the mattress, and you feel more of his cum leak out with the position change, thick and warm between your legs.
“There we go,” he murmurs, settling between your spread thighs. “Look how much Daddy filled you up. So much it can’t even stay inside.”
You whimper, hips twitching uselessly, body still trying to clench around nothing. The emptiness feels wrong after everything, like you’ve been carved hollow. More of his release spills out with each aftershock, and you can feel it cooling on your skin.
“So pretty like this,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “All fucked out and dripping. Made such a mess of you.” His thumb drags through the slickness, spreading it further, and you keen at the oversensitivity. “My perfect mess.”
You can’t form words, can only lie there trembling while he touches you with a gentleness that feels almost cruel after everything.
“Good girl,” he whispers, and the praise makes something warm bloom in your chest despite your exhaustion. Your body is wrecked, oversensitive, every nerve ending raw and singing. But when his fingers brush over your entrance again, gathering more of the mess he’s made, you find yourself pushing back into the touch despite the sensitivity.
“Oh?” Hongjoong’s voice lifts with surprise, his fingers stilling. His eyes darken as he watches you move against his hand—mindless, instinctive—seeking more despite everything. Despite being so thoroughly fucked out that coherent thought is impossible. “Still greedy for it, baby? Even with that pretty head all empty?”
You can't answer with words—don't even fully understand the question—but your body knows. Your hips roll weakly against his palm, chasing the touch with clumsy desperation. A soft whine spills from your lips, needy and thoughtless. Parts of you crave the continued touch. The emptiness feels worse than the sting.
“Greedy thing,” he murmurs, but there’s wonder in it now, not just teasing. His fingers slide through the mess again, more deliberately this time, and you whimper. “Even after I fucked you senseless. Even after you came so hard you soaked the sheets twice. You still want Daddy’s touch.”
“Puh—please,” you manage, the word barely forming through drool-slicked lips, voice completely destroyed and slurred beyond recognition.
Hongjoong’s expression shifts—something possessive and tender at once. “Okay, baby,” he soothes. “Daddy’s got you. Always got you.” His fingers circle your entrance gently now, gathering the cum that’s still leaking out and pushing it back inside with careful pressure. The sensation makes you gasp, oversensitive but good, filling that devastating emptiness just slightly.
“There,” he whispers. “Is that what you needed? To stay full?”
You nod frantically, pushing against his hand, and he obliges—two fingers sliding in deeper, keeping his release inside you. The stretch is almost too much on your abused walls, but it’s what you want. What you need.
“Such a good girl,” he praises softly. “Taking everything Daddy gives you and still asking for more.”
His fingers work slow and steady inside you, and something in your brain just... shuts off. The constant buzz of thoughts, the ability to form coherent words—it all dissolves into nothing but sensation. Your mouth falls open, soft moans spilling out with each gentle thrust of his fingers.
“There she goes,” Hongjoong murmurs, watching your expression go slack with satisfaction. “There’s my girl. Nothing left in that pretty head but how good Daddy makes you feel, huh?”
You can’t even nod properly, just a loose movement of your head, eyes unfocused and glassy. Another moan slips out, breathy and mindless. His fingers curl slightly and your hips twitch, but there’s no urgency to it—just your body responding on pure instinct while your mind floats somewhere far away.
“Look at you,” he says softly, almost reverent. “Fucked you so good you can’t even think anymore. Just my empty-headed baby now, aren’t you?”
“Mm,” is all you can manage, the sound quiet and blissed-out. Your eyes flutter, struggling to focus on his face. Everything feels distant and warm, your body heavy and pliant beneath his touch.
“That’s right,” Hongjoong coos, his free hand stroking your cheek. “Don’t need to think. Just need to feel. Just need to let Daddy take care of you.” His fingers maintain that slow, gentle rhythm, keeping you full, keeping you floating. “Such pretty sounds you’re making. Can’t even form words anymore, can you?”
You shake your head—barely—another soft moan falling from your parted lips. The oversensitivity has melted into something dreamlike, each movement of his fingers sending lazy waves of pleasure through your wrung-out body. There’s no edge to chase anymore, no building tension—just the mindless contentment of being touched, being full, being his.
“Perfect,” he whispers. “Absolutely perfect like this.”
His hand slides up from your hip, palm warm against your ribs as it travels higher. When he cups your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple, you keen—high and broken. The sensitivity is different here, less raw but somehow more direct, each touch shooting straight through you.
“So responsive,” Hongjoong murmurs, watching your face as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. Your back arches weakly, pushing into the touch despite your exhaustion. “Even here. Every part of you is so fucking sensitive for me.”
His fingers inside you curl slightly in time with the pinch of his other hand on your nipple, and the dual sensation makes your eyes roll back. Another mindless moan falls from your lips, your body responding without thought, without control.
“That’s it,” he coos, switching to your other breast, palm kneading gently before his fingers find that peaked bud. “Just feel it, baby. Don’t think. Just let Daddy play with you.” He tugs slightly and you whimper, hips twitching against the fingers still buried inside you. “So pretty when you make those sounds.”
His touch alternates between gentle and firm—thumbs circling your nipples, palms pressing against the soft weight of your breasts, fingers occasionally pinching just hard enough to make you gasp. Each touch keeps you floating in that mindless space, pleasure washing over you in slow, lazy waves.
“Could play with these all day,” he murmurs, dipping his head to press a kiss to the curve of your breast. “Watch you fall apart from just this.” His tongue flicks out, circling your nipple before his lips close around it, and you gasp—the wet heat of his mouth making everything sharper, more intense.
Hongjoong sucks gently, tongue working the sensitive bud while his fingers continue their slow rhythm inside you. Your hands find his hair, holding on weakly, not pulling—just needing something to anchor you. When he grazes his teeth across your nipple, your whole body jolts, a strangled sound escaping you.
“Good girl,” he whispers against your skin. “Taking everything so well. My perfect, empty-headed doll.”
Your thighs shake harder now, trembling under his attention, muscles twitching with aftershocks that won’t stop. Each suck of his mouth, each curl of his fingers inside you makes them quiver more violently, until you can’t keep them still even if you tried.
“Joong,” you whimper, his name barely coherent, your voice destroyed and small. His mouth releases your nipple with a wet pop, switching to the other side, and the attention makes your back arch off the mattress weakly. “Can’t—too much—”
“Shh, I know, baby,” he soothes, releasing your breast to press kisses along your sternum. His fingers slow inside you, gentling their rhythm as your thighs continue to tremble uncontrollably. “But you’re doing so well for me. Just a little more, okay? Let me take care of you.”
You nod weakly, unable to do anything but submit, your body no longer your own—just something for him to play with, to care for, to keep floating in this mindless space. Your thighs won’t stop shaking, trembling against his sides as he settles between them again, and you can feel more of his cum leaking out despite his fingers still working to keep it inside.
“One more, baby,” he whispers against your lips. “Give Daddy one more and then I’ll let you rest.”
You manage to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes, vision blurred and unfocused. It takes effort to keep them open, each blink longer than the last. His face swims above you, features soft and concerned, and you can barely make out the dark intensity of his gaze.
“There you are,” he murmurs, his free hand cupping your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “Stay with me, baby. Just a little more. Can you do that for Daddy?”
You try to nod, but your head feels impossibly heavy, movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Another weak sound escapes you as his fingers curl inside you, and your eyes threaten to slip closed.
“Eyes on me,” Hongjoong coaxes gently, tapping your cheek to keep you present. “Want to see you when you fall apart one more time. Need to watch my baby come undone.”
It takes everything you have to keep your gaze on him, eyelids fluttering with the effort. His fingers work inside you with deliberate care, coaxing your body toward that edge one more time despite your exhaustion.
“That’s my good girl,” he praises softly. “Keep those pretty eyes on me.” His thumb finds your clit, circling with barely-there pressure, and your mouth falls open on a silent cry. “Almost there, baby.”
His hand moves from your face to slide two fingers past your parted lips. The touch is unexpected, gentle but insistent as they press against your tongue. Your eyes widen slightly, trying to focus on him through the haze.
“Suck,” Hongjoong commands softly, his voice dropping lower. “Show Daddy how good that mouth can be.”
You obey automatically, lips closing around his fingers, tongue working weakly against them. The taste is clean, just skin and the faint salt of sweat, and something about the act—the fullness in your mouth matching the fullness between your legs—makes you whimper around his fingers.
“Pretty,” he murmurs, watching your lips wrap around his digits with dark satisfaction. “Such a perfect mouth. Takes everything I give you so well.” His fingers inside you curl harder and you moan around the ones in your mouth, the sound muffled and desperate.
He pushes them deeper, making you gag slightly, and your eyes water as you struggle to accommodate them. “Shh, relax,” he soothes, easing back just enough. “Just like taking my cock. You can do it.” The comparison makes you clench around his other hand, and he groans. “Feel that? Your body knows what it wants.”
His thumb on your clit presses firmer now, circling with intent, and you keen around his fingers. Drool starts to leak from the corners of your mouth as you struggle to keep sucking, your jaw slack and uncoordinated. Everything is too much—the stretch in your mouth, the fullness between your legs, the relentless pressure on your clit.
“So messy,” Hongjoong says with satisfaction, watching the spit drip down your chin. “Can’t even keep it together anymore, can you? Just my brainless little toy.” He pulls his fingers from your mouth with a wet sound, dragging the saliva down your neck, your chest, leaving a glistening trail. “Open.”
You obey without thought, mouth falling open, tongue out. He leans down and spits directly onto your tongue, the act filthy and possessive, and you moan at the degradation of it. “Swallow,” he commands, and you do, throat working visibly.
“Good fucking girl,” he praises darkly. His fingers push back into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, keeping your mouth open and exposed.
Your hand moves without thought, fingers wrapping weakly around his wrist. You pull it down, guiding it to your throat, settling his palm against the vulnerable column of your neck. The request is silent but unmistakable.
Hongjoong’s eyes darken immediately, understanding flickering across his face. “Yeah?” he asks, voice dropping lower. “Want Daddy’s hand around your throat while he makes you come?”
You nod as much as you can with his hand there, a desperate whimper escaping you. His fingers curl around your neck—not squeezing yet, just holding, the weight of his palm a promise.
“Please,” you manage, the word barely a whisper, and that’s all he needs.
His hand tightens around your throat, pressure building slowly, controlled. Not enough to cut off your air completely—just enough to make each breath something you have to work for, something you have to earn. The restriction sends your body into overdrive, every nerve ending lighting up as his fingers inside you curl relentlessly and his thumb grinds against your clit.
“That’s it,” Hongjoong growls, watching your face flush darker as the oxygen thins. “Give it to me. Come for Daddy one more time.” His grip shifts slightly, thumb pressing against your pulse point, and he can feel your heartbeat racing beneath his palm. “Feel how hard your heart’s pounding for me? Your body knows who it belongs to.”
Your vision starts to blur at the edges, stars dancing across your sight as the pleasure builds impossibly higher. His fingers don’t let up, working you with practiced precision, and you’re teetering right on that edge—desperate for release but unable to tip over without his permission.
“So fucking beautiful like this,” he murmurs, voice rough with awe and desire. “Completely at my mercy. Taking everything I give you so perfectly.” His hand loosens slightly, letting oxygen rush back in, and the sudden clarity makes everything sharper. “You'’re doing so well, baby. So good for Daddy. Just let go—I’ve got you.”
The praise combined with the pressure returning to your throat is what breaks you. The orgasm hits different this time—slower, deeper, rolling through you like a wave pulling you under. Your mouth opens on a silent scream, no sound escaping with his hand locked around your throat, and the deprivation makes everything more intense.
“Perfect,” Hongjoong breathes, watching you fall apart beneath him. “That’s my perfect girl. Look at you—so beautiful when you come for me. Did so fucking well, baby.” His hand stays firm on your throat through every wave, controlling even this, drawing it out until you’re shaking uncontrollably.
When he finally releases your throat, you don’t even gasp for air. Your body just goes limp, every muscle surrendering at once. Your eyes slip closed despite trying to keep them on him, and the last thing you register is his voice—distant, concerned—calling your name.
“Baby? Hey—” Hongjoong’s hand immediately cups your face, patting your cheek gently. Your head lolls to the side, body completely unresponsive. You’re still breathing—he can see your chest rising and falling—but you’re utterly gone, consciousness slipping away into the exhaustion he’s wrung from you.
“Fuck,” he mutters, but there’s no panic in it. Just concern mixed with something like awe. He carefully withdraws his fingers from inside you, and you don’t even twitch at the loss. More cum leaks out onto the sheets, but you’re too far gone to notice or care.
He shifts immediately into caretaker mode, moving with practiced efficiency. His hand stays on your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone as he checks you over. Your pulse is steady under his fingers when he presses them to your throat—the same throat he was just restricting. Your breathing evens out into something deeper, more peaceful.
“Did so good,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Too good. Gave me everything.” There’s pride in his voice, but also guilt—he pushed you right to your absolute limit and over it.
He stays close, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest, making sure you’re really okay. After a moment, he tries again, voice soft but insistent. “Hey. Baby, come on.” His hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing across your cheek. “Need you to wake up for me.”
You don’t respond, body still limp and unmoving. He sighs, shifting to sit beside you, one hand sliding to your shoulder to shake you gently. “Can’t let you sleep yet. We need to get you cleaned up first.”
Still nothing. Your breathing stays deep and even, completely out of it. Hongjoong’s expression softens, guilt flickering across his features again. He really wore you out this time.
“Okay,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. “Guess we’re doing this the hard way.” He slides one arm under your shoulders, the other beneath your knees, lifting you carefully against his chest. Your head lolls against his shoulder, body pliant and unresisting.
He carries you toward the bathroom, your weight comfortable in his arms. “You’re going to be so mad at me later if I let you sleep like this,” he says quietly, nudging the bathroom door open with his foot. “All sticky and messy. You’ll complain for days.”
He sets you down carefully on the edge of the tub, one hand staying on your shoulder to keep you upright while he reaches for the faucet. Your head tips forward, chin nearly touching your chest, and he has to catch you before you slump completely.
“Baby,” he tries again, patting your cheek a bit more firmly. “Come on. Just need you awake enough for a bath. I’ll do everything else.” The water starts running, warm steam beginning to fill the small space as he tests the temperature.
Your eyelids flutter—barely, but it’s something. A soft, incoherent sound escapes you, and Hongjoong takes it as a victory.
“There you are,” he encourages, both hands cupping your face now, lifting your head. “Let’s get you in, okay?” He helps you into the tub, supporting your weight as he eases you down into the warm water. The heat envelops you immediately, and you let out a small, contented sigh.
He kneels beside the tub, one hand still steadying you, about to reach for the washcloth when your fingers weakly grasp at his wrist.
“With you,” you mumble, eyes still closed, the words barely coherent but unmistakable.
Hongjoong’s expression softens immediately, a quiet laugh escaping him. “Yeah? Want me to get in with you?” He doesn’t wait for another response—just climbs into the tub behind you, pulling you back against his chest. His arms wrap around you, steadying you in the water, and you let out a small, satisfied hum as you melt into his warmth.
“Stay still,” he murmurs against your skin, voice soft and gentle—so different from how he sounded minutes ago. His lips press to your shoulder, kissing over the marks he left there. Some are already darkening into bruises, others are just faint impressions of his teeth. He maps each one with careful attention, like he’s cataloging the evidence of what he did to you.
You lean back into him, boneless and pliant, letting him support your weight completely. The warm water laps around you both as he reaches for the washcloth, soaping it up with one hand while the other stays wrapped around your waist.
“You’re going to be so sore tomorrow,” he says quietly, dragging the cloth along your arms with gentle strokes. His lips find the curve of your neck, pressing soft kisses to the red marks his hand left on your throat. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“Don’t be,” you mumble, the words thick and drowsy. “Wanted it.”
He makes a soft sound—half laugh, half sigh—and kisses the bruise at the junction of your neck and shoulder, the one from his teeth. “I know you did. Doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you after.” The washcloth moves to your chest, your stomach, washing away the sweat and evidence of everything that happened.
His other hand comes up to tilt your head to the side, giving him better access to your neck. He kisses every mark there too, lips tender against the sensitive skin. “So pretty,” he whispers. “Even covered in bruises. Especially covered in bruises.”
You hum contentedly, eyes still closed, completely surrendered to his care. His hands are so gentle now—washing you clean, touching you like something precious. The contrast makes your chest ache in the best way.
“I love you,” you murmur, barely audible.
Hongjoong's hands still for just a moment before continuing their careful work. “I love you too,” he says against your shoulder, punctuating it with another kiss. “So much. Even when I’m mean to you.”
Especially when he’s mean to you, maybe—but that’s something you both understand without saying.
He brings the cloth to your inner thighs, cleaning away the evidence of your releases, his movements are especially gentle, aware of how sensitive you must be.
“Almost done,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your shoulder. The washcloth moves down your legs, over your calves, taking his time to make sure he’s gotten everything. You feel yourself drifting again, lulled by the warmth of the water and his tender care.
When he’s finished, he sets the washcloth aside and just holds you for a moment, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, steady and reassuring.
Something stirs in your chest—gratitude, affection, love.
With effort, you turn your head slightly, just enough to press your lips to his cheek. It’s a soft kiss, lazy and uncoordinated, but full of feeling.
Hongjoong goes still, then lets out a breath that sounds almost like relief. His arms tighten around you, pulling you closer against him. “What was that for?” he asks quietly, though there’s a smile in his voice.
“Thank you.”
His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, turning to press his own kiss to your temple. “Don’t thank me for taking care of you,” he says softly. “That’s my job. Especially after I’ve wrecked you like that.” But his voice is warm, fond, and you can hear how much your simple gesture affected him.
You shift in his arms, turning more fully despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. The movement sends water sloshing gently against the sides of the tub, but Hongjoong adjusts easily, his hands sliding to your waist to help stabilise you as you face him.
His eyes meet yours—dark and searching, still carrying traces of the intensity from before but softened now with concern and affection. You lift one hand, fingers trembling slightly as they trace the line of his jaw, then cup his cheek.
“Hey,” he whispers, his own hand coming up to cover yours against his face. “You okay?”
Instead of answering, you lean in and kiss him. It’s slow and deep, nothing like the desperate, hungry kisses from earlier. This one is grateful, reverent—a thank you and an I love you and an I trust you all wrapped into one. Your lips move against his with deliberate tenderness, and you feel him sigh into it, his body relaxing as he kisses you back with equal softness.
His arms wrap around you properly now, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head while the other stays secure at your waist. He angles his head to deepen the kiss just slightly, still gentle but more present, more him. When you finally pull back, it’s only enough to rest your forehead against his, both of you breathing the same air.
You catch the softness in his expression—the way he’s looking at you like you’re something precious—and a small, teasing smile tugs at your lips despite your exhaustion. Your fingers trace lazy patterns on his chest.
“You know,” you murmur, voice still thick with exhaustion but laced with amusement, “for someone who just fucked me unconscious, you’re being awfully soft right now. What happened to the mean Joong from like ten minutes ago?”
Hongjoong’s eyes narrow slightly, though there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “Are you complaining?”
“No,” you say, still trailing your fingers down his chest lazily. “You’re just being so sweet.”
His eyes narrow slightly, though there’s amusement flickering in them. “You want him back? Because I can arrange that.”
“Mm, no,” you hum, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I like this version too. All gentle and worried about me.” Your smile turns a little wicked. “It’s cute.”
“Cute,” he repeats flatly, though you can see the way his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile.
“Very cute,” you confirm, your fingers walking up his chest to tap against his collarbone. “Taking care of me, kissing all the marks you left, being so—” You pause, pretending to search for the word. “—domestic.”
Hongjoong’s hand slides up to catch your wrist, his grip firm but not rough. “You’re lucky you can barely move right now,” he says, voice low, “or I’d remind you exactly how un-cute I can be.”
You laugh—soft and breathless—and let yourself collapse back against his chest. “See? Cute. You’re threatening me while holding me in a bubble bath.”
He groans, but his arms wrap around you again, pulling you close. “You’re impossible,” he mutters against your hair, but there’s no heat in it. Just fondness, and maybe a little exasperation. His hand strokes down your back in slow, soothing motions. “Rest. You’ve earned the right to be a brat for a few minutes.”
“Only a few minutes?” you tease, already feeling yourself starting to drift again.
“We’ll see how long my patience lasts,” he replies, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. But his tone is warm, and you know he’s not actually annoyed. If anything, he sounds relieved that you’re coherent enough to give him a hard time.
You shift again, the water rippling around you as you turn to face him fully. His hair is damp, some strands clinging to his forehead, others pushed back haphazardly. His eyes are dark and deep, watching you with that same careful attention he always has, like you’re the only thing that matters.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, close enough that your breaths mix. His thumb strokes your cheek like he’s checking you’re really here.
“Like what?” you ask while your fingers starts tracing idle circles on his chest.
His gaze narrows, suspicious. “Like you’re about to start something.”
You tilt your head, considering him with exaggerated seriousness. “Maybe I am.”
A quiet, disbelieving laugh slips out of him. “You can barely keep your eyes open.”
“And yet,” you say, letting your fingers trace his jaw again, feather-light, “you’re still watching me like you’re trying to figure out what I’m thinking.”
His hand closes around your wrist—not tight, not controlling. Just there. Grounding. Possessive in a way that doesn’t hurt.
“I don’t have to figure it out,” he says. “I know you.”
“Oh?” You lean in, just enough to brush your mouth against the corner of his—almost a kiss. Almost. You stop a heartbeat short, letting him feel the tease in the pause. “Then tell me.”
His eyes drop to your lips. “Don’t get cocky,” he warns, but the warning sounds thin, like it’s already losing.
You hum, pretending to think about it. “I’m not cocky.”
He gives you a look that says liar.
You meet it without flinching. “I’m just… curious.”
“About what?” he asks, voice low.
You press a soft kiss to his cheek, then his jaw, then the place under his ear where you know it makes him go quiet. You feel his breath hitch, and it makes you brave.
“About how long it takes,” you murmur against his skin, “before you stop being sweet and start being mean again.”
He exhales a laugh—one of those quiet ones that means he’s trying not to show how much you got to him. His hand slides to the back of your neck, thumb brushing your pulse. “You’re teasing me,” he says.
You blink slowly, innocent on purpose. “Am I?”
He leans in, close enough that his nose brushes yours. “You should rest.”
You let your smile widen, just a little. “Make me.”
His gaze drops, then returns to your eyes, darker now. “Careful.”
You press a final kiss to his lips—soft, brief, unhurried—then pull back before he can deepen it.
“Or what?” you whisper.
He looks at you for a long second, like he’s deciding how honest to be. Then he tucks you closer, forehead to yours, and his voice goes quieter.
“Or I’m going to stop pretending I’m patient.”
You sigh like you’re satisfied with that answer, and let your eyes fall closed, still smiling.
“Mm,” you hum. “There you are.”
His jaw ticks. You feel it more than see it—the subtle shift in his expression that says you’re walking a line.
“You’re pushing,” he says quietly.
“Am I?” you ask again, tone dripping with false innocence. Your fingers trail down his chest, nails dragging just lightly enough to make him inhale sharp. “I’m just sitting here. Being good.”
“You don’t know how to be good,” he mutters, but there’s heat creeping into his voice now, the kind that makes your pulse kick up.
You tilt your head, letting your smile turn sharper. “That’s not true. I was very good earlier. You said so yourself.”
His hand tightens on your waist—just enough to make you aware of it. “That was different.”
“How?” you challenge, leaning in until your lips brush his ear. “Because you were in charge?”
Hongjoong goes still. Dangerously still. The kind of stillness that means you’ve officially gotten under his skin.
“Baby,” he says, voice dropping into that low register that usually makes you shut up and listen. But right now, it just makes you bolder.
“What?” you ask sweetly, pulling back to look at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m just asking questions.”
His thumb presses into your hip—not hard, but deliberate. A warning. “You’re being a brat.”
“Me?” You press a hand to your chest in mock offence. “I would never.”
“Liar,” he says flatly.
You bite your lip to keep from grinning too wide. “Prove it.”
His eyes flash. “You really want to do this right now?”
“Do what?” you ask, all fake confusion as your fingers walk up his chest again, tracing the line of his collarbone. “I’m just sitting here in this nice bath you drew for me, being so grateful—”
“—being a pain in my ass,” he interrupts, but there’s a crack in his composure now. You can see it in the way his gaze drops to your mouth, then back up. In the way his grip on you shifts, like he’s deciding whether to pull you closer or push you away.
You lean in, close enough that your breath ghosts over his lips. “You love it,” you whisper.
He stares at you for a long moment, expression unreadable. Then, slowly, deliberately, he smiles—and it’s not the soft, fond smile. It’s the dangerous one. The one that means you’ve successfully woken up the version of him that doesn’t play nice.
“Okay,” he says simply. His hand slides up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “You want to be a brat? Go ahead. But don’t complain when I remind you what happens to brats who push too far.”
Your stomach flips—half anticipation, half genuine thrill. You should probably back down now. You’re exhausted, barely recovered, and you know he’s serious.
But instead, you smile back at him, just as sharp. “Promises, promises.”
His eyes narrow. “Last chance.”
You press a quick, teasing kiss to his lips—there and gone. “Make me stop.”
He exhales slowly through his nose, like he’s physically restraining himself. “You’re going to regret this.”
“Maybe,” you say, trailing your fingers down his chest again, slower this time. “But that sounds like a future me problem.”
Hongjoong’s eyes sharpen. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” you ask, innocent as a knife. “Use your words.”
His jaw ticks. For a second you can see the exact moment his patience runs out.
Then he moves.
His hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, grip firm enough to make your breath catch. “You want me to use my words?” he says, voice dropping low and dangerous. “Fine. Stop teasing me before I forget I was trying to be gentle with you.”
You roll your eyes at him, the gesture slow and deliberate—practically daring him to do something about it.
His grip tightens fractionally. “Did you just—”
“What?” you interrupt, blinking up at him with exaggerated innocence. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You rolled your eyes at me.”
“Did I?” You tilt your head, playing dumb.
Hongjoong’s stare lingers, heavy and unimpressed, like he’s deciding how much patience you’re allowed to borrow before he takes it back with interest.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, almost thoughtful. “You did.”
Before you can respond, he shifts—slow, deliberate—until you’re pressed back against the edge of the tub, his body caging yours.
He kisses you then—deep and consuming, the kind that steals the air from your lungs and replaces it with heat. His hand tightens at the back of your neck, holding you, and you can’t do anything but take it. His mouth moves against yours like he’s proving a point, like he’s reminding you who’s in control here, and it works. God, it works.
When he finally pulls back, your eyes are half-closed, breath coming in short, uneven gasps. You feel dazed, unsteady, like the world tilted and forgot to right itself.
He’s watching you, and there’s that smirk—slow, satisfied, dangerous. “Is this what you wanted?” he asks, voice low and rough.
You nod, still catching your breath, unable to form words yet.
His smirk deepens. “Yeah,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your swollen bottom lip. “That’s what I thought.”
he posted this pic on his story and i dropped my pants in preparation
bsf!seonghwa x f!reader
content: teaching you how to ride, slow and wet, eye contact, choking
wc: 2.3k
thinking about seonghwa...
“never?” he murmurs, nibbling on his inner cheek as he gives you a once-over. not in disbelief, but something else. something dangerous.
you shake your head. “nope.” you shrug and pick up your phone again and start to scroll through your settings apps. “but it’s not a big deal, really, it’s just another thing to cross off the bucket list.”
seonghwa snorts and peeks over to snoop at your phone, to which you angle it away from him with an annoyed scowl. “i think it may be a little more serious than that.”
you type gibberish into the search bar. "why does it have to be serious, hwa? it's just sex."
its seonghwa's turn to scoff this time, and he pinches the skin of your calf, you swat at him with your free hand. but he does it again, and you bite out an irritated "quit it" as he starts to speak again.
"thats a bad mindset to have, y'know that right?" he lowers his voice to that annoying, mothering tone he uses with you when he thinks you're being stupid. "it should never be "just sex."
"okay yeah, but you can't be so picky and choosy all the time. i'm sure ill get with some guy and when he figures it out, he'll work with me or whatever. teach me or something." you speak of it fleetingly, like it was nothing more than a pesky errand.
seonghwa snatches your phone from you and shoves it into the couch cushions, and you sigh loudly.
"some guy?" he questions with a raise of his eyebrow. you move to fish your phone out of the couch, but he reaches out and gently grabs your wrist, encasing it in his slender fingers and rubbing his thumb over your thrumming pulse point.
"why not me?" he speaks lowly, and you snap your eyes up to his. he stares back at you with an intensity that settles low in your gut. his thumb stroked over your inner wrist slowly, and his other hand twitched at his side on the couch.
the air went thick, the quiet of his living room felt encased in a bubble, and the warmth of his skin suddenly burned.
he sees it. your thighs clenching beneath your body, the conflict flashing over your eyes, your free hand digging its nails into the cushion.
when you don't respond, he lets his eyes fall to where his hand held your wrist, watching with illustrated intent as he traces patterns against the fragile skin.
"i could show you, i've always been told i'm a good teacher." seonghwa tickles the skin of your palm with gentle scratches of his nails.
"thats what friends are for, yeah?" he lifts his pretty eyes back up to you, and something else has shadowed over them, and you feel something inside of you crack. you're aware of the way veins in his hands flow prettily under his skin.
the way his collarbones peak through the thin fabric of his shirt. the slick shine on his bottom lip where he licked to wet it. his tongue poked against his inner cheek and his eyebrows raised again to urge an answer out of you.
"c'mon pretty, don't leave me hanging." his voice is softer than usual, a new tone lacing it you've never heard from your best friend, something heated, something needy.
if deciding to have your best friend teach you how to ride dick was a bad idea, then you could mull on it later. because it wasn't long until he was sitting under you on the couch, legs spread nice and wide, his hands pressing into your hips where he held your body above him.
you straddled him, your thighs resting on either side of his, your knees pressed into the rough fabric of the couch cushions. your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into the flesh of the blades.
he looks up at you through his lashes, as if you were a gift from god himself, his eyebrows knit together so prettily. "its fun up there, huh?" he smiles, dragging his warm hands up your thighs, holding you like you might melt and slip through his fingers.
you could barely keep yourself together; he was so deep inside of you. your thighs shook around him, his tip nudging against that spot so sweet and so dirty. his fingers kneaded the flesh of your hips, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth with a quiet moan when he felt your cunt clench around him.
"it helps that you're, ah… so wet…" his voice cracks lightly, his cock twitching inside of you and sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine.
you shiver and grip his shoulders a little harder, and you begin to lift your hips, but his grip on them tightens, and he pushes you right back down until your ass hits his thighs again, and you groan nice and low as he fills you all the way up again.
"no-no-no-no-no, baby, stop. don't lift." he presses his lips to your collarbone and kisses you there softly, running his tongue over the skin warmly. one hand leaves your hip and runs over your waist before he presses his palm flat against your lower back and pushes until you arch a little.
just enough that he somehow slips deeper into you, and you let out a weak whine when his fat tip presses ever harder against that spot.
"grind." he instructs in a gravelly, soft moan. "rock your hips, back and forth. it'll help me hit that spot for you."
you shake and whimper under your breath, but you obey. you gently move your hips forward, and the feeling is immediate, his cock drags against your soft walls just enough that it feels like pure heaven.
you move your hands and card them through the hair at the back of his head, cradling his skull in your arms as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, moaning softly against his skin as you rock your hips, nice and slow.
it helps that he's so big, each roll of your lower body has him slipping in and out of you just enough to stimulate you, but not enough to where you can consider him fucking you. his tip dragging against that spot like a constant button, your legs shaking uncontrollaby and your whine brushing past his ear like a song.
your clit lightly brushes against his abs, where his shirt has ridden up over his lower stomach. he keeps his hand on your lower back, keeping you arched all the while his other hand stays glued to your hips, pushing and pulling on your lower body, helping you grind his cock into your body.
"there, how's that feel, baby? good?" he whispers in your ear, kissing just below your earlobe as he helps you rock your body around his cock.
you nod against his neck, gripping his soft, dark hair harder and choking out a moan when he teases you with a heavy lift of his hips. then you feel as he encases your hips with both his hands again, and gently he lifts your body ever so slightly.
you squeeze his head even harder, seonghwa's soft moans shaking in his throat as he lifts and pushes your cunt back down on his cock in slow, deep intervals. "don't stop rocking those hips, keep fucking me like you want. grind, deep, slow…"
he guides you perfectly, each time he lifts your hips himself it makes you clench around him harder. you start to feel a little desperate, and your hips start to move a little faster, rocking with a little more rhythm, but seonghwa didn't like that.
one hand finds the back of your neck and grabs it firmly, pulling your head away from his shoulder and pressing your forehead to his. suddenly all you can see is his eyes, and it overwhelms you to the point of tears. you whine pathetically when he thrusts his cock up into your pussy so sharply that a drop of drool falls from your lips onto his chest.
"easy…" he grumbles against your lips, his breath fanning over your face in low, heavy pants. "slow down pretty, no need to rush." his nails dig into the back of your neck, and you shiver when he starts to grind his own hips up into you, so deep it has your stomach caving.
"if i wanted you pounded into the floor i would've put you on your back, but i'm teaching you sweetness. listen to me." his eyes fall low-lidded as you resume your slow grinding, and his mouth falls open in a pretty moan when you tighten around him, the sound of your slickness loud in your ears.
"it's your dick right now, baby, use it. do what feels good, but don't lose your head." he keeps up the torturous movement of his hips, a choreographed grind that makes his stomach roll prettily.
he doesn't let you look away, forcing you to lock in on his needy gaze while he keeps you filled up with him, nudging every deep spot, every nook and cranny of your pussy. there wasn't a single space inside of you that remained untouched.
"s, t-too, mm-" you tried to talk, try to tell him how good you were feeling but it came out in slurred babbles, and he laughed at you. his warm breath shudders over your parted lip,s and he nudges his head up, melding his soft lips with yours and kissing you deep and nasty.
his tongue fills your mouth with a purr, curling and essentially fucking your mouth with it. "it's a lot i know…" he whispers into your mouth, interrupting the kiss with a low moan when you clench so hard around him it makes his entire body fuzzy.
he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, letting go with a wet pop and pressing your hips down so hard onto his cock you thought if you looked down you'd see his tip poking through the flesh of your stomach.
"wouldn't have felt like this with anyone else, baby." seonghwa nips at the corner of your mouth, dropping his head to run his warm tongue flat up the front of your throat. "feel how wet you are? no other man will be able to make you feel this good."
his eyes lift as he sucks marks of possession into the skin of your neck, and when he sees a tear slipping down your cheek, he growls low in his throat and jerks his cock up into you rough and deep, and you yelp as the bliss shoots through you.
"oh no, don't cry. it makes me wanna be mean to you, makes me wanna fuck you til it feels wrong when i'm not inside you."
now he wraps his hands around your throat, pressing his thumbs against those soft spots that melt your brain, his eyes darting all over your pretty little blissed out face, his lips brushing against your in a ghost of a kiss.
"now lift, drop, and roll. fuck me, bunny. its yours, use this cock until you're satisfied. make yourself cum for me."
you coudln't disobey if you tried, working your body and focusing on that rapidly tightening knot in your stomach as you fuck yourself on seonghwa's dick, every delicious drag inside of you forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.
he doesn't bother to chastise you for breaking eye contact; he knows you're too lost in it to control yourself. he squeezes your throat tighter, your moans coming choked and broken. seonghwa helps push you over that edge, groaning and purring prettily for you, lifting his hips to match your desperate movements.
"i feel you baby, pussy feels so good around me. so warm, so tight." he lifts his head to press his lips to the shell of your hot ears, moaning and sighing as you ride him to high heaven. your head feels fuzzy with the lack of air, seonghwa making sure that the only thing you could think about was his dick working you out.
“cum as much as you need,” he coos in your ear his voice low and breathless, sinking his teeth into the soft lobe. “ride me, bunny, ride me.”
you absolutely lose it, slamming your hips down onto his dick and shattering, dribbling drool in rivers as you cum. he squeezed your throat in pulsing intervals, giving you air, then snatching it from you, rolling his hips up into your cunt and dragging every drop of your orgasm out of your body.
"oh god…fuck." he grumbles in his throat, overwhelmed by how pretty you looked on top of him, blissed out over your warm, gummy pussy squeezing him so tight he almost came inside of you. "such a quick learner, baby."
he drags his hands away from your throat, cradling your head, smearing your drool all over your cheeks with his thumbs, your face hazy and drunk while he rocks his hips into you in painfully slow, high off the way you shake and whimper, your slick sticking to his thighs and his lower stomach, a messy proof of his effect on you.
"did so good beautiful, yes you did." he praises, and yet his hips never stop moving. rolling, grinding, upwards strokes that make you feel helpless, regardless of the fact that he was beneath you.
"think you can give me another one? lesson's not over yet." he bites out, grabbing your arms and dragging your body down so your forehead rests over his shoulder. then he grips your hips, lifts your body up, and shimmies his hips down just enough so he can plant his feet flat on the floor, before he starts to fuck.
hard, deep, powerful thrusts up into your overstimulated cunt that has your moans coming out in staccato chokes.
"you did your w-work, now let me use this pussy." he groans through gritted teeth, and you feel your body erupt into flames the more he moves. making you feel every inch of him, each thrust touching your brain. making you feel so good.
[yunho x fem!reader] yunho reminding you who the fuck you belong to | heed the warnings i’m not your mother: smut minors dni 18+, pwp, mean dom!yunho/hard dom!yunho, you call him sir, ownership, submission, desperation, p in v, oral m!receiving, facefucking, lots of heavy degradation, fingering, thigh fucking, orgasm denial/edging, restraining with a belt, pussy fucking (not inside☝🏻), lots of crying, cum eating, jealous yunho, he's not nice like at all. not even a little. another round to pregame aftercare. creampie. as always, let me know if i missed anything! wc 10.7k
⊹ ࣪ ˖ for my angel face lover girl @03jyh23, once the brainworms took over i really could not stop writing this. thank you for requesting, i hope i did mean dom jealous yun justice, i love playing with him. i feel like i had empty headed in my mind the entire time i wrote this, if you're reading this, please for the love of god read empty headed. my favorite joongie fic in the world, mon is so unbelievably talented & so inspiring, if you like even one sentence from this fic i promise you will devour mon’s. thats all, enjoy xoxo
You didn’t mean to piss him off.
Not really.
But there’s something invigorating about watching his jaw tighten, a clench in the hinge that shows the structure of his face. The way his brows flatten, dark and heavy over his big, brown eyes, turning them three shades darker, more charcoal than chocolate. A hand through his styled hair, veiny fingers lost in black locks, mussing it to the point where the gel is rendered useless. Yunho angry was a sight to behold, exciting, magical; it brings out a completely different side of him, one you feared as much as you revered.
Across the room in his dark suit, tailored to his perfect body, his shoulders sat squared, in perfect posture. Your dress matched, a long, navy gown, if anyone paid attention, they’d know you belong to him. You know you belong to him, Yunho knows you belong to him, Yeosang knows you belong to him, but somehow you think the message has been lost along the way.
Deep red hair sitting perfectly over his cheekbones, hiding the birthmark beneath his eye you’ve seen a thousand times, Yeosang does look good. He always looks good, biceps stretching the sleeves of every shirt, filling out every pair of pants he owns like they were made for him, it doesn’t help that he has the most contagious laugh you’ve ever heard. A silly joke, a stupid one that left him snorting, made the laughter creep up from your chest and force its way out of your lips until you were folding forward, a hand clutching your stomach.
He’s funny without even trying to be and you fall victim to it every time, every hangout, whenever you and Yeosang are in the same room. Yunho notices, of course he does, a sixth sense embedded in his veins that he says is named after you. Usually his jealousy with Yeosang is under wraps, he can see your friendship for what it is– but tonight of all nights, at the company gala where Yunho is receiving an award for his efforts, tonight is about him. And here you are, across the room, chopping it up with Yeosang instead of standing by his side so he can introduce you to everyone in the room.
You can feel his stare, harsh eyes like blades cutting into your skin, it makes your spine straighten, your heels click together. Even without words you can feel his command, summoning you to him like there was a part of him inside your head, you excuse yourself from the circle of people you were conversing with and walk back to your boyfriend, a low rumble in your belly because you know exactly what’s awaiting you.
Leaning over the tall, circular table dressed in a black tablecloth long enough that it touches the floor, one of Yunho’s knees is bent into it, his arms crossed over the surface. He watches you, eyes following your every step, aware of each person you pass like every one of them could be a threat. You keep your face innocent, your eyes big and doe-like, your hands politely holding your clutch in front of your body, a small smile on your face as you approach him at the table, nothing else on it besides two full glasses of prosecco.
“Wipe that look off your face,” he says as soon as you can hear it, his voice low and stern, “damage is already done.”
Excitement blooms in your chest, you swallow down your smile. “What do you mean?”
He steps back from the table, picking up the flute of prosecco, holding it close to his chest. He shifts his view upward, examining the crowd, “You know exactly what I mean, stop pretending, you look stupid.”
You can’t fight the smile this time, throwing an elbow over the surface of the table with your clutch, leaning on it as you pick up the glass of prosecco instead. He turns to you, eyes slimming, “You’ve had enough.”
Your brows furrow, head tilting, “I’m not even tipsy–”
“I said you’ve had enough.”
Slowly, you set the glass back on the table, his tone was clean cut, no room for disobedience. You frown, ankles crossing beneath your gown, “I was just talking, Yunho.”
“Talking,” he repeats, a ghost of a smile clawing at his lips, “laughing, leaning into him like I don’t fucking own you.”
Your breath catches in your throat as the word leaves his lips, it always ignites something deep in your gut, turns your mind to fuzz. Ownership, being his, so deeply his you don’t need to think if you don’t want to, Yunho can see the warmth spreading through your body like your skin was transparent.
He takes a step toward you, leaning down, breath ghosting the shell of your ear, “You belong to me. Never fucking forget it.”
You swallow, heart picking up speed in your chest, your voice is a little shakier than you want it to be as you whisper, “I could never forget that.”
Standing up tall again, he smiles like he remembered there’s other people in the room, “Good.” Turning his head to examine the crowd again, coworkers, staff, people who have all praised him tonight, congratulated him on his hard work. You drink in his figure, long legs that stretched on forever clad in navy, his suit jacket unbuttoned, showing the white button-up beneath. The tie that laid in the center, snug beneath his collar, just from a few words your mind escaped to the gutter, brain drifting to the things he could do with it.
“Let’s go,” he says simply, turning toward you again.
“Already?” You look around, standing straight, dessert hadn’t even been served yet. “I don’t think it’s appropriate–”
“I don’t give a fuck about what’s appropriate.” You’re lucky there’s no one around you to hear the sharp words leaving his lips, “I don’t care about this, and clearly neither do you if you’d rather go talk to Yeosang.”
“Yun–”
“Come,” the word is firm, a wall splitting your defense. He grabs your clutch from the table, tucking it beneath his armpit, placing his glass of prosecco delicately on the table, “We’ll make our goodbyes, I’ll text the driver.”
He shoots a quick text before laying a heavy hand on the small of your back, bringing you on his round of goodbyes where you smiled politely, shook hands, gave small hugs to every person you made eye contact with tonight– except Yeosang. You didn’t even meet his eye, standing off to the side while Yunho gave him a tight hug, a wide grin on his face like he wasn’t planning on tearing you apart the moment you stepped foot in your apartment.
You didn’t talk on the drive home, in the backseat of a black car you didn’t know the name of, your driver nodding his head along to what was playing on the radio. A small, muted hum, it stood as background noise for your raging thoughts, adrenaline ripping your tummy to shreds as you wonder about what comes next. It’s rare for Yunho to react like this, he’s generally a grounded, secure man, he knows you’d never leave him, he knows you’d never cheat. He’s asked you the same rhetorical question a thousand times: Who could possibly be better than him?
No one. That person doesn’t exist. You love him too much to ever even consider someone else, he was too engraved in your being, the blood in your body circulated for him, your heart beats to the rhythm of his name. Yunho was everything, everywhere, he was half of your body, your soul.
But he doesn’t play nice when it comes to his toys.
He punched in the code to your apartment with steady hands, opening the front door softly, holding his arm out for you to walk inside first. Hanging your coat on the rack, there’s a pit in your stomach, a blooming warmth of fear and adrenaline beneath your skin. You begin, “Yunho, we shouldn’t have left, I was just talking–”
He’s at your back, hands on your hips, head standing tall above yours, “You think I give a fuck about what you were doing?” His voice is rough, gravelly, tone bleeding dominance, it makes your toes curl in your heels, back straightening against his presence. “I don’t care if you were giving him the fucking heimlich, you’re mine. Do you understand what that means?”
Your breath catches, fingers tingling at your sides, eyes wide as you stare at the pale yellow wall in front of you, art covering the walls. The paintings seemed to stare back, snickering at your disobedience, saying you reap what you sow.
“Yes,” you whisper, accompanied by one singular nod.
“Yes what?”
You fight the sound that claws at your throat, “Yes, sir.”
“This body is mine,” his hands trail from your hips up to your waist, squeezing the skin beneath your gown before traveling up to your chest, holding his palms there to prove a point. “It belongs to me. Your pleasure, your pain, your actions, your mistakes, they’re all mine.”
His palms leave your chest to unzip the gown at your back, you can feel the chill of metal all the way down to the base of your spine. Pooling around your feet, you don’t move, back straight, chin held high, heels clicking together, presenting yourself for him how he taught you. Every bone in your body begged you to turn around and kiss him, you ached to touch him, to wrap your arms around him, to feel him inside you, curved and pulsing and hitting every spot that made you scream. When he steps around you, fear simmers, you come to terms with the fact that none of which is on the itinerary for tonight.
Shoulders squared, jaw locked, eyes dark, brooding. He watches you, still fully clothed, shoes kicked off, his suit remains. His eyes drink in your naked figure, already well aware of the lack of anything beneath your form fitting gown, watching how your upper body expands with each breath, the tremble in your legs, the glint of nerves in your eyes, how you’re already struggling to keep still under his heavy stare. He watches like he’s mapping out a plan, debating what he’ll do to you, how loud he should make you beg, deciding what he’s in the mood for.
He always wants obedience. Expects it. You’ve learned to not expect anything.
“What do you think you deserve tonight?”
The question sets your body aflame. Meeting his eyes, you swallow, “I don’t deserve anything, sir.”
He nods slowly, arms crossing over his chest, he hums. “Do you think you deserve my cock inside you?”
He watches how your spine bends, the slightest movement. It tells him the words out of your mouth are a bold-faced lie, “No, sir.”
“Why not?”
You can feel the heat in the tips of your ears, embarrassment, guilt, it curls into the flame of arousal flickering brighter in your gut with every second he keeps his eyes on you. “Because,” you pause. His brows raise, waiting. Your voice cracks, “B-because I was, um– talking. To Yeosang.”
“Why are you stuttering?” He tilts his head a fraction of a degree. “You know what you did. Say it with your chest.”
“I was laughing,” you continue, feeling the sweat forming at your brow, the light of the foyer too warm, too bright. You swallow, “I was laughing with him when I should have been with you.”
He hums again, debating. “Do you think you deserve to cum at all?”
“Only if you think I deserve it, sir,” there’s a shakiness to your voice, one he knows all too well, it means please.
He looks you up and down once. “Bedroom,” is the only thing he responds, a sharp word that sends your heeled feet clicking over hardwood to the room at the back of your apartment. The lights are dim, soft, misleading; the way it lays over your duvet, your furniture, a streak creeping into the bathroom, it breeds comfort. You’re scared you won’t get any tonight.
“Kneel beside the bed, face it.”
You wince when your knees splinter the hardwood beneath you. Back straight, hands flat on your thighs, you sit on your calves, ass just meeting the heel of your stilettos. He doesn’t smile, he doesn’t praise you for following directions, following order, he watches.
One second, two, five, ten. Sitting on your shared bed, suit jacket discarded, knees spread, heels of his feet edged on the base. He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows before they meet his knees as he leans over his thighs, giving you a full view of his size above you. A display, one that makes you shiver every fucking time.
“You disappointed me tonight,” his voice is low but his tone is calm and it’s worse than loud, edged, spit-soaked anger. “You know how to behave, you know better. Correct?”
“Yes, sir,” you nod once.
“Do you have anything to say about your behavior tonight?”
“I’m sorry,” you mumble. His brow arches. Louder, you repeat, “I’m sorry for my behavior tonight, sir.”
He stares, waiting, watching. One second, two, five, ten.
“Save the apologies,” he stands, fingers working at the prongs of the black leather belt, so close to your face you almost flinch at his movement. “You’ll make it up to me properly.”
You nod, words breathy, “Yes, sir.”
With one step he’s behind you, you can feel him squat down just from the heat of him, you hear the metal of the belt buckle dragging against the hardwood floor, it makes your thighs clench together. His palms are warm when he wraps his long fingers around your arms, just above your elbows, he pulls them behind your back. Silently he wraps the belt around your wrists, tying it off securely, tight enough for you to feel the restriction but not enough to cut circulation.
With another step he’s in front of you, veiny hands tugging at his tie, loosening it before throwing it, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. He works the fastening of his slacks open, fingers tugging down his zipper, with thumbs in the waistband of his briefs, he pulls them both down over his hips until they reach mid-thigh. Your eyes flicker upward to meet his gaze, holding a question in your stare– he’s not even hard yet.
“Why are you looking at me?” His brows raise, “Do you not know what to do with a cock in your face?”
Your cheeks burn as you lift up, the tips of your toes meeting the hardwood, adjusting your height to meet his flaccid cock, there’s no hesitation as you bring your head forward, tongue poking out to catch the tip of him in your mouth. You hear the change in his breathing, a small, sudden intake of air, if it wasn’t so quiet in your bedroom you’re sure it would’ve gone over your head.
The breath is enough praise to take him into your mouth with confidence, to massage your tongue slowly against the underside of him, you feel him expand; length doubling in size, the width of him stretching your lips, the weight heavy on your tongue. Slightly salty, the taste of skin, bland and neutral, he mutters a curse when you take him deeper, but you don’t struggle bobbing your head, working up a rhythm, your movement quickening with each run of your tongue over his ridged tip.
“You can do better than that,” his tone is condescending, it makes your stomach drop. His hips buck into your mouth, cock reaching the back of your throat, making you gag, an ugly noise; his small hum of pleasure is worth a thousand words of praise.
“Is this what I have to do? Fuck your throat so you take me properly?”
Your eyes fill with salty tears as his cock fills your throat, you take him deeper, faster, nose meeting the tuft of hair at his base, inhaling, moaning, gurgling around him with each bob of your head. He groans, a hand coming up to meet your styled hair, ruining it as soon as his fingers tighten in your scalp. “Don’t cry, it’s pathetic, suck my cock like you mean it. Or do you want me to think you’d rather have your mouth on Yeosang?”
Your brows knit together and you hope it’s enough, that he sees the answer you can’t communicate. He hisses when you swallow around him, “He couldn’t fuckin’ handle you, couldn’t put you in your place, he wouldn’t know what to do with you. Do you understand? That you’re something that needs handling?”
You can’t answer– he knows you can’t answer, he isn’t expecting one, he knows your response. He flashes his teeth in a nasty grin when your tears spill, hot on your cheeks, streaking your makeup. “You need to be owned, need to be used, tied up with nothing left to do but take.”
The noise you make gets muffled by his cock, he hears it, his hips roll deeper into your throat, fingers gripping tighter at your scalp.
“You love it, don’t you? When I use your mouth? Turn you into a toy?” You whine around his cock, drool gathering at the sides of your mouth, you can hear the squelch of spit. “I know you do, bet your thighs are stickin’ together already. Should I fuck them instead? Cum all over your legs while your little pussy begs me for attention? Begs me just to look at her?”
Your eyelids flutter, eyes rolling back behind them, your thighs squeeze, wrists tugging at the leather binding them. His chuckle is dark, patronizing, when he speaks the words come out tighter, “Look at you, already begging for it when you can’t even talk. Is this what you wanted? Is that why I had to watch you flirt with my fuckin’ coworker? You needed a reminder that this is all you’re worth?”
Tears flow, makeup stinging your eyes, blurring your vision, his cock so heavy, so deep in your throat, each gag around him breeds more. His other hand meets your hair, rocking your head at the same pace of his hips bucking into your mouth, you breathe through your nose, your nails cut into your palms.
“Fuck,” it’s sharp, under his breath. “There you go, make me fuckin’ cum, ‘s all this mouth is good for.”
Drool spills from the corners of your mouth, dripping onto your thighs that start to shake, knees burning where they dig into the hardwood. You’re clenching around nothing with every other thrust, wishing he was fucking into your pussy with the brutal pace he’s using on your mouth.
“Don’t you dare waste a single drop,” his voice is ragged like his breath, the only proof he was enjoying this. His palms meet your cheeks, forcing your eyes open so he can ask, “Do you hear me?”
Your eyelids flutter, ignoring the sting of tears your gaze darts upward to see his face, veiny forearms in your peripherals. Jaw slacked, cheeks splotched with pink, eyes so dark they’re burnt, pleasure etched in each line of his perfect face. His button-up splits at the hem, showing you the pocket of skin between, the veins that swim from his hipbones up to where they disappear behind the v of fabric swollen, prominent.
“Gonna ruin this throat,” he uses pressure on your flaming cheeks, holding your head still as he fucks into your mouth faster, harder, ignoring how you choke around him. “Mine to do as I fuckin’ please.”
Your face is covered by saliva, tears and melted makeup, bubbles of spit popping before they sink down your jaw, down your neck, between your breasts. The sounds you make around his cock are brutal; loud, wet, unbecoming– they push him over the edge.
He cums with a strangled noise like it was caught in his throat, his chin dropping to his chest, his eyes squeezed shut. Ropes of warmth shoot straight down your throat and you’re disappointed you can’t taste the salt, feel the slimy consistency as if it were intentional, like you fucked up so bad he was keeping his cum from you, too. You whimper when he pulls out, sucking in a needed breath, swallowing down the spit in your mouth, feeling the cool air of the bedroom brushing against the streaks of liquid on your body.
You don’t move without direction. You don’t speak without order.
He runs a hand through his hair, chest heaving beneath his shirt, he gives you no praise. He doesn’t even look at you kindly. He gives you a one-over, top lip lifting in distaste, “You’re a fucking mess. On the bed.”
Your legs are wobbly beneath you as you climb onto the white duvet, hands still secured at the base of your spine, you lay on top of them, knees still burning, swollen, uncomfortable. He doesn’t get on the bed with you, he tugs you back down to the edge by your ankles, pushing your legs up until they’re dangling. Hands on your swollen knees, he parts them, ignoring the way you suck in a sharp breath.
“Be quiet,” he’s staring between your legs, “I don’t want to hear a sound out of that mouth. Holes don’t speak.” You clench your jaw to keep it closed, thighs twitching. He continues, “Knew this slutty cunt would be soaked. ‘S all over your thighs, aren’t you embarrassed?”
You meet his eye, lips parted, but you don’t speak. His lips curve at the corner, “No? Proud of how wet you get from being used? Being nothing?”
He’s baiting you, you force your breath into submission, calm despite your heart pounding against your ribs, wild and arrhythmic. You clench around nothing, air catching on the wetness between your legs, coating your thighs, you’re not embarrassed. You could never be, not when his eyes light up, his lips curve, staring at you like he wants to do nothing less than devour you when you’re spread out for him like this.
You’re built for him, by him, and he knows it.
Warm palms sear your thighs, one sinking down your calf, fingers ghosting over one of your heeled feet. He pushes it forward, towards your chest, staring at the silver stiletto, finger following the shape of the arch, touching the pointed heel. Not even looking at you, keeping his eyes on your pedicure, he mutters, “These stay on.”
Your bottom lip quivers, trembles, fingers clawing at the mattress behind your back. His eyes find yours, “Being so obedient now, is this what happens when you’re guilty? When you know you fucked up? I get a sweet girl for once?”
Your entire body reacts to his words, a full-blown shiver that racks through you like a wave. His voice is a spell, his words are tantalizing, laced with sweetness, it throws your mind for a loop, you almost reply. Your lips open and then close, he grins like he knows he’s on the right track.
His fingers wrap around your ankle, placing it over his shoulder, his other hand leaving your thigh to paint a finger through your folds. Your lips tighten, teeth clamping down, brows furrowing at the stimulation, noise climbing up your throat with claws bared. His touch leaves as quickly as he gives it, he brings his finger up past his lips, moaning at the taste, loud and obnoxious, “It’s too bad you don’t deserve my mouth, wanna eat her so bad. I think Yeosang would like the taste too, don’t you?”
Your jaw clenches, he stores the reaction. Bringing his hand back down to your center, he uses two fingers to spread your folds, watching as you clench around nothing, as your body begs for what your mouth isn’t allowed to say. He hums, leaning down, gathering spit in his mouth before shooting it straight onto your mound, your body jumps in response. With his thumb at your clit, he adds the smallest pressure to spread the slick, your lips part, a quiet gasp sneaking through.
His eyes flicker upward, “Behave.” He rubs slow circles, barely any pressure, following your hips that buck into his hand, “Stop moving. Take it.”
Your face contorts, abdomen flexing, spine bending, teeth clamped down over your bottom lip. You try to keep your hips flush to the bed, you fail. His hand leaves your calf over his shoulder, falling to your belly, pushing down to keep you flat, “Right after I said you were being obedient, too. Shame.”
His thumb leaves your clit to push two fingers inside and your elbows bend, hands sliding up your spine, pulling at the belt keeping you restrained. A desperate moan pushes past, hips jerking against his hand pinning you down, his name falls off your lips right after, “Yunho! Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Lips pursed, his head shakes slowly, disappointed. Your body burns, hot with embarrassment, blood carbonated, sizzling with fear, your eyes stay blown wide, watching him calculate what comes next. He doesn’t react further, instead his fingers work you open, pads of his fingertips massaging against the spongy spot inside you, your breathing becomes verbal. Shallow, chest moving rapidly, wrists fighting against the restraint, it feels too good not to move. Not to react.
He knows your weak points, knows your strengths; he uses them both to his advantage.
“Do you think I’m doing this for your pleasure?” He doesn’t look up, voice steady, he watches how your slick gushes around his digits instead, how your core takes his fingers so easily, greedily. “I should shove my cock inside you without prep, that’s what you deserve for being a whore. But I decided to be kind, and this is how you repay me? By being greedy?”
You keep your lips glued together until his eyes meet yours, “Speak.”
“I’m sorry!” Your voice is pitched, face scrunched together, he can hear the shame in your voice, feel how your body disagrees. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t deserve it, I- I, please just–”
“Shut up,” he cuts you off, “Forgot how fucking irritating it is to hear you whine.”
You feel the pressure in your face again, swimming up your sinuses, filling your waterline with salty heat. He doesn’t notice until your breathing breaks, tears already spilled, pleasure wound tight in the pit of your belly, below his palm that sits heavy and harsh.
“You’re crying again?” He sounds bored, annoyed. “You’re useless, you know that? Can’t follow simple fuckin’ directions.”
He sighs before he slips his fingers out, two hands finding the plush of your ass beneath your lifted thighs, pushing you up the bed.
“Maybe you should fuck Yeosang,” he crawls on top of the mattress with you, fingers working his buttons open while you shake your head, tears falling silently, he stares at you with lifted brows like he couldn’t be more uninterested. “You’re nearing worthless at this point.”
He throws the button-up off the bed, pulling his white tank over his head, his slacks and briefs already gone, discarded before your back hit the mattress. Face still reading uninterested, he grabs both of your legs by your ankles, throwing them over his shoulders as he spreads his knees, lowering himself until his eyes lock on your glistening folds.
“You don’t deserve my cock,” he says it like it’s something you already know. A mewl stirs in your throat, you swallow it down as he wraps his fingers around the base, pushing it through your folds. “So fuckin’ wet, she’s begging for it. You think you deserve it?”
He looks up at you just to see you shake your head no, his eyes follow the way your tear-streaked cheeks shine in the dim light.
Circling his tip over your clit, he asks again, “Not even the tip?”
You release a shaky breath, sniffing through your clogged sinuses, every bone in your body screaming yes, you’d beg for it, on all fours, you’d do anything for it. But that’s not what he wants to hear, so you shake your head once more.
“Alright,” he says it passively and it makes your brows knit together. Like if you said yes, he’d do it.
Your lips part, face warped into confusion, voice coated in a cry, “W-wait.”
“No,” he moves one of your ankles to his other shoulder, crossing them, “You made your bed.”
“Yunho–”
His eyes flicker upward, warning enough, your lips smack together to silence yourself. The tip of his cock prods at the seam of your thighs, so thick and hot and wet it makes you squirm, ankles locking over his shoulder. He smacks the side of your thigh once, “Clench ‘em for me. Be a good sleeve.”
Your breath is shaky as you tighten your thighs, body rigid, wrists fighting their restraints. Tears spill hotter, heavier when he groans out in relief, cock passing between your thighs, so close to your aching cunt you can feel your composure getting pushed to its limit. One hand holds your ankles over his shoulder, the other squeezes one of your thighs, you watch how his abdomen flexes with each roll of his hips, how his throat bobs when his head falls back in pleasure.
“Feels good,” his voice is gravelly, laced with arousal, his hips moving slow enough to draw out his own pleasure. You try to keep yourself tight, composed, enjoyable for him, but your patience is a thin band, one running taut too quickly. He picks up the pace, his hips smacking against your sensitive legs, they start to shake where they lay hooked over his shoulder.
“Stay still,” he gruffs out, “Stop shaking.”
A defeated cry escapes through your parted lips, mumbling a wilted, pathetic, “Please.”
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, doesn’t address that you’ve spoken. You’re drifting as his grip turns tighter, fingers on your ankles, palm on your thigh, tight enough to bruise; his hips pick up speed, filling the room with the sound of skin smacking skin. You’re clenching around nothing again, so strung out and sensitive that the ripple of his cock between your thighs is close enough to friction. You can feel your pulsing clit, muscles tightening, heart picking up speed as it starts to feel somewhat pleasurable. Better than nothing, not nearly enough to get you off.
He does a double take when he notices your brows knitted up, lips parted, breath layered. His laugh is punched, taunting, “You’re getting off on this?” A whimper escapes. “I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut. This is a punishment, not a fucking position.”
You seal your lips together again, your lashes becoming a waterfall, his hand leaves your thigh just to land against your skin heavier, harder, the sound striking through the room, nearly blending in with the sound of his hips against your thighs.
“I’d be inside you if you listened. If you didn’t speak, if you didn’t flirt with my friend in front of my goddamn face,” his voice is as rough as his movements, he watches where his cock disappears, grinds his teeth when your thighs clench. “Can’t believe this is getting you off. Nothing but a cockhungry whore, doesn’t matter where I fuckin’ put it, does it?”
Your thighs clench again and he cracks ever so slightly, a splinter in his demeanor. The sound he lets out is pitched, something of a moan, small and wanting as he chases his release, “Fuck, almost as good as your pussy. Maybe I don’t need to use her at all anymore, maybe I’ll tape her shut.”
Another sob falls past your lips, head tilting to the side, “No.”
“No?” His eyes meet yours, “No?”
“I need you–”
“You’re mine,” his voice is harsher now, like you’ve finally hit a nerve. He pulls out, throwing your legs to the side, one arm scooping under you to flip you onto your stomach. Pulling you upright, on all fours, knees together, your face is buried in the bed, another sob cracking through your shaking body. “I’ll do whatever I want, this body is mine, you belong to me. You’re my property, when are you going to get that through your thick fucking skull?”
When his cock pushes past the seam of your thighs again, legs on either side of yours, it's lower. Farther away from your slippery cunt, skin still lubed up with how much you’ve spilled, his voice is edged as he lands a harsh smack on your ass, biting, “Squeeze your fuckin’ thighs, you can’t afford to disappoint me again.”
He holds his hands tight on your hips, steadying you, groaning low and long when he picks up the pace tenfold, harsher than the rhythm he was giving you before. He plants a foot on the bed, choking out a moan, “Gonna cum all over these thighs, this ass, then I’m gonna make you eat it.”
You moan, it’s a soft noise, too soft for how unforgiving he was at your backside. Your mind is cloudy, in your head, his degrading words are close enough to praise, your body responds. He lands another heavy smack to your ass, sending you deeper into the plush of the mattress, into the fuzz, you moan.
He sounds almost surprised when he says, “That’s not a fucking reward, you’re disgusting.”
Your wrists pull at the belt, thighs clenching, another shameless moan pushing past your lips. His hips stutter, fingertips tightening at your hips, “Fuck, nasty fuckin’ thing.”
He slips from between your thighs, leaving them vibrating and hot. You can hear how fast his fist moves over his length, slick and wet, lewd, his groan is a stutter as he cums, thick ropes of white landing over your ass, your thighs, warm, heavy, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. Being marked, owned, being his, however he wants you, however he’ll have you.
You hear him panting, tight breaths pushed from his lips, you know he’s staring, watching it drip, admiring the mess he made like it was art. With one hand still on your hip, he uses the other to wipe his painting off your skin, gathering it on his fingers, a glob of wet sticky warmth, your mouth waters knowing he’s about to feed it to you.
Your thighs shake as he knocks your knees apart for stability, reaching one arm forward to wrap under your belly, pulling you upward. You whimper at the force but your body follows without hands to help you.
“Here,” he sounds like he’s giving you a gift as your back hits his chest. He moves your hair out of your face, your jaw already pried open, he stuffs his cum-coated fingers past your lips and your eyes roll back. Salty, thick, nasty, you moan at how fucking dirty it feels, abdomen flexing because he’s finally giving you something. Mouth closing, tongue sucking his fingers clean, your thighs squeeze.
“Good girl,” he whispers, “Eat it all, lick my fingers clean.” You moan again, eyes opening, low-lidded as you stare at him from under your brows, swallowing. His face scrunches, lips parting, “Fuck.”
He watches as your spit-stained mouth opens when he presses down on your tongue, no evidence of his release leftover. His fingers move slowly, spreading inside your mouth like he wanted to feel the texture of your tongue, they drag down until your bottom lip folds over, your own spit hitting your chin.
“So pliant,” he whispers, watching, analyzing, “You’ll let me do anything right now, won’t you?”
You whimper, so soft and light you barely register it came from you. His other hand wraps around your front, two fingers dipping between your legs, adding pressure to your clit. You fold, or try to, his other arm wraps around your front, forearm between your breasts, fingers landing steady at the base of your throat, holding you flush to him.
“Still.” Despite the order being direct, his voice is calm, sweet almost, eyes dancing over your features, watching how your face contorts in pleasure. He keeps his pace slow, circling his fingers lightly, “Cum, just like this.”
Your instinct tells you not to trust his kindness, pressure building steadily at the base of your belly, but he works you so easily, even with small circles and light pressure, your body responds like a live wire, as if two light fingers were a vibrator on its highest setting. Your moans mix with tiny gasps, body fidgeting at the pleasure, so sensitive you think you might be running from it.
He cooes, “Come on, baby. I’m letting you cum, might be the only orgasm I let you have tonight. Impress me.”
The need to deliver, obey, appease him is too embedded in you not to listen, even if you know better. You choke on a moan, reaching your peak quicker than you should, sounds climbing in staccato, so close you could fucking taste it– he rips his fingers away just as you approach the edge and you sob, body lurching forward, “No!”
He pulls you back against him, keeping you locked in place. He shushes you, running his hands over your skin, your thighs, your stomach, comforting touches that pull tears from your eyes for the third time. You choke on a cry, crumbling into him, leaning your weight against him.
“So good for me,” he praises, voice candy-sweet. Confusion makes you whimper a mumble of his name.
He waits until your twitching subsides, still brushing his fingers over your skin, soothing the loss until you’ve forgotten it. When your sobs quiet, your breathing evens a little more, he dips his fingers between your thighs again.
“Yunho!” You gasp, bucking against him, “T-too much.”
“Shut up,” he grinds out in your ear, “Take it.”
His fingers work quicker, more pressure, pleasure builds inside you like it never stopped.
“I can’t–” You hiccup, “Please let me cum, sir, p-please let me, I can’t take it–”
The arm that’s wrapped around your front reaches farther up until two fingers push past your lips, sitting heavy on your tongue like stone. You gag around the length of them, knuckles hooked between your teeth while his other hand works quicker, tighter circles on your clit.
“Don’t remember telling you to speak,” you feel his breath on your ear, words chopped, rough, mean. “I remember telling you not to make a fucking sound.”
You’re gurgling around his fingers, more ugly noises, you’re too close to care. Electricity zaps through every limb, legs trembling, hips bucking away from his fingers because you can’t handle the pleasure even if you need it.
You’re babbling over the weight on your tongue, looking up at him with pleading eyes, mumbling begs in-between every gag, he stays focused on his fingers between your legs, pulling you as close as he can to the finish line.
“Y’gonna cum?” His eyes finally meet yours, searching your face for the answer before you can make a sound. You nod, tongue flexing under his fingers, pressure built up so tight and heavy in your body you might blow if he doesn’t let you release. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, so sticky sweet it makes you moan. His voice is sharp against your skin, “Slutty cunts don’t get to cum.”
There’s a millisecond to process his words before he rips his fingers away and that’s how long it takes for your sanity to slip. Sobs, real ones rip from your chest; ugly and booming, he lets your body go, lets you fall forward, flat against the mattress, wrists clawing at the belt, twitching and jerking so fucking shamelessly it makes Yunho smile.
“Am I breaking you, baby?” He crawls on top of you, flipping you over like your dead weight means nothing to him. “Are you finally understanding what it means to be mine?”
The word yes leaves your lips between each sob like a chant, wrists aching beneath leather, your skin was probably inflamed and swollen by now from how much you’ve thrashed against the belt, but you don’t feel it, you don’t care. You need more. You need release.
He pushes your knees up, humming, ignoring your choked sobs like they didn’t exist. “You think Yeosang would want you like this?” He smacks his teeth, “A crying, begging whore? You think he’d touch this slutty, swollen cunt?”
“No! I’m s-sorry,” you hiccup, sounding so distraught it’s almost deranged, “Please.”
“Please what?” His cock lays heavy over your leaking cunt, reaching well over your pubic bone, it makes your trembling worse. “What are you asking me for?”
“I– I–”
“Shut up,” he lowers his grip down to your thighs, the sensitive part on the inside, rutting his hips ever so slightly against your folds. Your head tilts back, letting out a sound of tight pleasure mixed with frustration, his cock on you isn’t enough. You need him inside.
“He wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole,” he continues, wrapping his fingers around the base of his length, adding pressure as his hips rut against you again. “This pussy is used. I’ve ruined it for anyone else, ruined you.”
Your spine bends at his words as he works up a rhythm, pace combined with the added pressure, his cockhead runs over your swollen clit with each thrust, it’s almost enough for you to start climbing again. You moan out in relief, in euphoria, just from having him on you.
His grip tightens on your thigh, “You like that? Being ruined? Like the idea of another man being repulsed by you?”
“Yes,” your face contorts, tears hot in the lines stretching across your skin, breath ragged, hips bucking against him when his rhythm slows.
He curses under his breath as he feels you clench, “Of course you do. This pussy only wants me. Trained to only respond to me.”
“Yes,” a little louder, laced with your climbing pleasure, “Only you.”
“Don’t cum.” You watch his knuckles turn white at the base of his cock. “You haven’t earned it yet.”
“Please!” You cry, so completely at his mercy, body shaking, heels piercing your thighs with each roll of his hips. “Please l-let me, I’ll be good– I’ll listen, I won’t ever look at him again–”
Your fingers curl into the duvet beneath you, pleasure, desperation, the stimulation you’re getting from his cockhead over your clit is enough, it’s fast enough, he said no. He’s focused on your core, how his cock slides against your slick, how it bubbles and swirls around your folds with each thrust of his hips.
“Yunho,” you cry, a little louder, more severe, “Inside, p-please!”
He grits through tight teeth, “Shut the fuck up.”
Your body locks, bones feeling tight, stuck to each muscle like one look from him had turned you to stone. Small, stuttered breaths escape you one after another, rising in pitch, he can feel the stemming pleasure in your gut, he knows it’s building, he can see it on your face.
You’re close, but he’s closer. He takes the chance, fucking into his fist before his cock meets the wet heat your folds, he grunts out a curse, fingers so tight around your thigh it hurts.
“You wanna cum?” His eyes flicker upward and your heart stops dead in your chest.
“Y-Yes– Yes Yunho, please, I’ll do anything–”
“Beg for it.”
Incoherent babbles disguised as pleas, nothing more, a display of desperation that was music to his ears. His hips stutter with each whimper, each whine, the wetness on your cheeks, your body that’s steaming under his touch, it’s so hot his stomach curls with his approaching orgasm.
He chokes on a groan, “You’re so fucking stupid, you don’t learn. Nothing but a dumb, desperate whore.”
You moan and he gasps, thighs twitching as he ruts into his fist like an animal, fucking himself through the orgasm that leaves your cunt, your belly, your thighs covered in cum, his third orgasm. Your knees tie together, a sob so defeated and tired ripping from your gut, your cunt pulses, he can see it. He can’t stop himself from pushing his cock inside.
“Yunho!” You all but whisper, wrecked voice bouncing off the walls, body thrashing against him.
He moans, small but there, it’s suffering and overstimulated. Your wrists burn, halfway up your back, arched so high the leather doesn’t touch you. You can feel your tears pooling in your ears, sobbing in relief and satisfaction and sheer fucking pleasure.
He doesn’t move. He sits there, face tied together in overstimulation, lips caught between his teeth, fingers holding onto your legs for purchase like he might die if he didn’t grab onto you with all his strength.
“Please,” you cry, “Move.”
His jaw clenches, breathing manual, chest rising and falling so heavily you regret the word as soon as it passes through your lips.
“I can’t take it,” you continue through the regret, another mistake. “I’m yours, Yunho, I- I belong to you, I’m your whore, your sleeve–”
“If you were my fucking whore you wouldn’t disobey me,” he grits out, you can feel his thighs shaking, but he adjusts himself to fuck into you properly. “Say it if you need to, but you’ve taken it before and I know you can take it again.”
The word is nowhere near your tongue and he knows it.
“Quit crying, then,” he moves his hands, fingers sinking beneath your back to hold your waist, thumbs sliding where they slipped through his cum on your sides. “I’m tired of hearing it. You’re getting what you want.”
“I want to cum,” you cry out, you’re sure you’ve broken skin at the heel of your palms from how hard your nails have cut into them, you can barely feel the sting. His fingers bruise your back, keeping you still, forcing you to take it as he slips out agonizingly slow, and pushes back inside.
“I don’t think you deserve it,” he sounds unaffected by being inside you, like fucking your thighs really was the same, if not better. Your sobs reflect the thought, feeling so used, full of shame; the flame of desire that dwells within your gut is nowhere close to being smothered, you need more, you need to be full of him, you need to cum around his cock.
“Ple– ase,” you choke on the word, “Y-Yunho, please.”
“Pussy missed me,” he sounds like he’s reminiscing, “Listen, she’s suckin’ me in.”
You hear it then, the squelch, the ungodly sound of his cock sliding into you fluidly. You wallow in it, the humiliating noise, the feeling of him running over that spot with every thrust, filling you up like he’s carved himself space inside you, whittled at your womb until you could take him and him only.
“There you go,” it’s not praise, it’s relief, “Finally giving up. So much better when you’re easy.”
There’s nothing left inside you but sound, desperate and aching, it fills the room on top of the sound of his hipbones slapping against your thighs, the room sounding wet and disgusting. Pressure builds, steady and true, his rhythm daunting, pushing you closer to an edge you don’t know if he’ll let you fall off of.
“This is all you need,” his voice sounds heavier, layered with pressure, “My cock fucking you full. You don’t need to think, don’t need to breathe, you don’t need to be.”
You breathe out a noise, a babble about getting close, he doesn’t hear it. You sink deeper into the haze with each thrust, consumed by pleasure, cheek sliding against the duvet every time his cockhead kisses your cervix.
“You all dumb for me?” You can hear his smile, “Fuck, are you finally broken, baby? Feel nothing but me? Thinking of nothing but me?”
The leather binding your wrists feels miles away. You’re reaching, he knows it.
His hips snap against yours, so brutal and unforgiving, pleasure is an unwrapped gift with how your orgasm hits, catching you off guard. The sound that rips through you is deafening, limbs thrashing against the duvet, your restraints, it’s too late for him to slip his cock out. He knows it, even if he does it anyway, you cry out, hips bucking against nothing searching for friction to extend your orgasm as long as you can.
He doesn’t speak when he flips you over. His hands are rough, movements quick, his cock splits you open the moment your knees hit the mattress. You don’t get a second to feel relief.
“You’re nothing but a greedy fucking whore,” each word is punched, animalistic, angry and ragged; your spine bends toward him, cunt clenching around him, toes digging into the heels on your feet. He pushes you down with one hand, “Keep that fucking back down.”
“Again,” you cry, weak and desperate, “Again.”
He’s fucking you like he hates you, like your pleasure meant nothing to him. Brows furrowed, jaw sharp like a blade, he’s angry as his cock drills inside you, chest red and splotchy, sweat beading down his mismatched skin.
“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, “Stupid bitch, you’re only making it worse for yourself.”
“I’m sorry–”
He lands a sharp smack to your ass, “Don’t fuckin’ apologize. Deal with the consequences.”
“I’m sorry!” It’s louder this time, strained. Your hips fuck back, knees buried in the bed for stability, “I need you, I need it, I need to cum again, please– please Yunho, I’ll–”
He reaches down to push your face into the mattress, “I told you to shut the fuck up, listen for once in your goddamn life.”
Mouth meeting cotton, you can’t catch your breath, shins kicking against the mattress. His pace is angry, brutal, you can feel yourself falling apart, pleasure and pain melting together, desperation and satisfaction blending into one. Your head feels fuzzy again from the loss of air, cloudy in a way that means submission, your body softens.
He lets go of your head to grab onto the belt with one hand, pulling you up, back level with your hips, your sobs becoming verbal once again. Your head hangs low, deadweight for him to hold.
“Say you’re sorry.”
Light, airy, your cloudy eyes meet the duvet, “I’m s-sorry–”
“Say it like you fucking mean it.”
You wince, “I’m so sorry, sir.”
His voice sounds rigid, like he might cum again. “Tell me what you are.”
The answer comes easy, “I’m a whore.”
He lands a sharp smack to your ass, “You’re less than that.”
“I’m n-nothing,” you whimper, “A h-hole, a sleeve.”
He lets go of the belt and you fall against the mattress, a rough sound muffled as your chest hits cotton. He flattens you with his palms, lowering his weight over your back until his skin sticks to yours, he slides one arm beneath you, under your chest, cupping your jaw with one huge palm. He guides your head to the side to see him, sweaty and angled and fucked out, but he rounds out when he sees you– face flushed, wet with saliva, tears, splotched and messy, your eyes glossy and huge and somewhere else.
He starts rolling his hips into you again, slower, just as damning, “You’re missing something.”
Your brows furrow, clenching around him, mewling out something incoherent before asking, “M-missing?”
He rolls his hips, cock brushing over that spot, you shake against him, body trembling. He bites his lip roughly like he’s forcing himself into composure before he asks, “Who’s hole? Who’s sleeve?”
“Y-Yours!” You’re scrambling to correct your mistake, “I’m y-yours. Your whore, your hole, your sleeve. Yours to use.”
He moans, soft and wilted and fucking angelic. His rhythm doesn’t falter, patient but aimed, like he wanted you to feel every inch, every vein. You can’t move, stuck under his weight, held in his palm, your face forms to gratification, lips open but silent, eyelids fluttering, you feel like you’ve given him all of you. Your pleasure, your pain, he holds it all in the palm of his hand, he holds you like you’re something sacred.
“Made for me,” his voice is quieter, soft at the edges. “Only I could love you like this. Broken, small.” He drops into just above a whisper, “Ruined.”
“Please,” you whisper, a single tear running down your cheek, “Cum inside me.”
Hot salt meets his fingers, his grip tightens ever so slightly, cock twitching inside you. “Cum for me first. Show me how well you listen.”
Your brows furrow, instinct at war with his tone, his words. Even if you don’t know how honest he is, your body reacts, rutting against his thrusts, clenching around his length that sails over the front of your walls with purpose. Climbing, reaching, you stare into his dark, focused eyes, softly whimpering, “Yunho.”
“I got you, I’ll let you,” he encourages, his tone not fully sweet. “Just this once.”
Your body trusts him, enough that your peak approaches in a cloudy haze; you tremble in pleasure, choking on a cry, crumbling against his arm that holds you still, steady, safe.
“Fuck,” it’s a hot word in your ear, “So fucking tight.”
His hips pick up and you move, tears falling hot again, overstimulated and forced in a cycle of pleasure, your wrists pull, your legs thrash, your whines pick up, his grip tightens on your jaw.
“Want me to fill this pussy up?” His breathing is as verbal as his question, “You think you deserve it?”
“Yes,” you answer in a cry, “I do, I do, please– inside, sir, Yunho, please–”
He gruffs out a noise squeezed from his throat, hips smacking against your skin, stuttering. His fingers push up on your jaw until it closes, silencing you with fingers pressed in your face, his head dipping low as he chases his orgasm.
“Slutty fucking cunt,” he growls out, lips just grazing your shoulder he lifted, “No you don’t.”
You don’t process the rejection as he lifts himself, you turn over with haste in the second it takes to settle, pleas on your tongue; he’s already crawling over you, knees beside your shoulders, fist wrapped around his cock.
“Yunho, no–”
“Learn from this.” He pumps his length with fervor, knuckles white, hips bucking into his own hand. “Remember this the next time you think about giving my property away.”
You don’t know how you have any more tears to give. Sucking down air, body thrashing beneath his thighs that pin you down, you wail. He watches, lips parting, brows furrowing, like your face and your pain was getting him off, it doesn’t take long until he’s groaning, cock spilling ropes of white onto your cheeks, your nose, your hair, your chest.
Heartbreak blooms. Chest cracking, you succumb to the tears, slipping from your half-open eyes down to the streaks of white on your face, mixing into salty, thick heat. You might be talking, repetition of no filling the air like it’d rewind time, convince him to fill you up again and leave his mark behind.
He takes his time crawling off you, turning you halfway, one hand skillfully prying the belt undone. Your arms are free but you can’t feel the air on your wrists, even as he moves them in front of you. Sitting beside you he lifts your wrists, checking them, moving the pads of his thumbs over your swollen veins on the inside.
“Fist,” it’s soft; a direct order, one without malice. You barely hear it over your cries, but you flex your fingers, make a fist, he nods once in approval, thumbs ghosting over the red, broken crescents in the heels that your nails left behind.
Tangling his fingers with yours, it’s not a show of affection, he moves your wrists in a circular motion, clockwise, then counter-clockwise, watching your face for any sign of pain or discomfort. There’s none, other than your dejected cries, he knows you well enough to know the difference.
Laying your wrists softly beside you, he crawls downward, lifting one leg, untying the buckle at your ankle. He slips your heel off your foot, pressing a kiss to the underside of your toes, another to your ankle. He moves to the other after gently laying your leg down, repeating the process, his lips soft against your skin.
He leans forward again, stretching his legs out beneath him, slinging an arm under your shoulders to tuck you into his chest. Your forehead meets his skin, wet and sticky with sweat, his cum, saliva; being eased into comfort after so long of not having it just makes you cry harder. He lets you release, one hand in your scalp, the other grazing your back, he doesn’t speak until your sobs lower, when you’ve reached a point that you have nothing else to spend.
“You did so well for me,” he whispers, lips softly meeting your roots. “Took everything I gave you, I’m so proud of you.”
All you can respond is a whimper, soft and light, the only sound you have left inside. Exhaustion lays heavy like a blanket, its weight on your eyelids, on your legs, in the arches of your feet.
“I’m gonna go get you some water.”
Your shaky arms reach, neck bending, holding him close with your palm on his waist. Meeting his eye, seeing him, you hope he can see the not yet in your eyes. His face deflates into roundness as his thumb meets your cheek, wiping slick off your skin that’s gone cold by now. His eyes sparkling and soft, he’s in caretaker mode– the doing after he takes, you aren’t ready for it yet. You need him.
His eyes flicker to your lips and he can feel the way you bend for him, into him, asking for it without saying a word. His lips meet yours with delicacy, a soft graze of his lips before you part for him, beckoning for more. He lets his lips mold with yours, open and sweet, no haste, gradual and slow, his hands exploring your skin, your palm reaching upward to cup his cheek.
“One more,” you whisper into his mouth, using all your might to form words. Your ankle hooks over his back, a shaky breath escaping you when your body meets the cold slick of his spent length. He hisses at the friction, head beginning to shake, you cut him off before he can speak. “Please.”
His eyes study your face for a moment. “You can handle it?”
“I need it,” your voice cracks on the second word. “Need to feel that you love me.”
His brows furrow, “Baby.”
“Yunho,” you whimper in the same tone, “Please.”
He catches your lips in a kiss and you’re not met with any more haste than before. It’s slow, passionate, he’s burning words onto your tongue, making you feel it instead of him saying it. He reaches down between your bodies, pumping his cock once, twice, pushing a small sound into your mouth, one you swallow down, tucking it beside your heart. Running his tip through your folds, you brace yourself, legs already shaking, bruised and battered and still aching for more.
You wince as he starts pushing inside, his lips meet your jaw. On your sides, facing each other, you throw your arms over his shoulders, his hands sinking down around your waist, from how close you lay there’s barely any room for him to feed you a full thrust. He tries, grinding his cock against that spot inside you, eating every soft, wrecked moan you spill.
“I love you so much,” he finally says, “Every inch of you, every part of this body.”
You whimper, fingers curling into his hair with no force, succumbing to the pleasure, the slight sting of overstimulation.
“You take everything,” he whispers, lips against your cheek, you feel his breath, the severity of his words. “Do so fucking well for me every time. I need you.” Your heart jumps, clenching around him, pressure stemming. He repeats, voice a little louder, “I need you, love you s’much, ‘d do anything for you.”
Your hands drop to his shoulderblades, nails sinking in, breath growing heavier, a soft moan slipping past your lips, into his mouth. You whimper, voice cracking, “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” his fingertips curl into your back, “I know, baby.”
“I love you,” your voice cracks again, breath going uneven, he kisses you softly.
Your hips move with his, meeting each roll, the slick sound of your still-soaked center a symphony in your dimlit bedroom. He hears when your breathing shifts, as you start to climb. “Yes,” he encourages, voice dripping in praise, “Cum for me, baby, you deserve it. Did so good for me.”
Your breath hitches, hips twitching against him, he rolls into you a little harder. He kisses you, tongue sloppy inside your mouth, tasting everything you’d given him tonight, taking responsibility for it all. He turns you just slightly, angling you onto your back a little more so he can piston his hips higher, against that spot inside you. Your leg dangles, leaving your body spread and open, so trusting it makes his stomach do a flip. He presses two fingers against your clit, rubbing quick, tight circles.
He knows you’re seeing stars by the loud, pitched cry from your throat, he curses under his breath, “C’mon, cum for me. Give it to me, let me have it, I need it.”
Your spine bends on command, thighs shaking, pleasure washing over you in tremors. Eyes squeezing shut, he kisses your unmoving mouth, fingers working your clit, fucking you through it, extending your release, pulling it deeper, hotter, longer.
He kisses your cheek when a tear slips out, wiping his upper lip with his tongue. Your face is bent up in pleasure, eyes big and doe-like, pupils dilated. You mumble, voice little and weak, “Please cum inside me.”
His pace quickens, chasing instead of supplying, voice caught in his chest. You kiss him again, sloppier, moaning into his mouth as he fucks into you steadily, fingers curling into his hair while you fuck him back. He chokes on a moan, hand splayed across your abdomen, hips losing their rhythm before he stutters, legs shaking, spilling everything that’s left inside him to give.
Winded, breathing heavy, Yunho’s spent. There’s nothing but the sound of your breath in the room, he keeps his cock inside you until it’s soft and even then you wait until discomfort knocks on your door to part.
“Can I clean you up?” He asks into the silence, palm still heavy over your sticky stomach.
You moan your disagreement. “We need to shower.”
He rolls over, pressing a soft kiss onto your cheek, “Are you strong enough to?”
Your head turns, meeting his eye, a smile curving your lips to a singular degree. “I don’t really have a choice. You came on me twice– three times?”
He plants his palms on either side of your head, eyes meeting the ceiling in thought. “Mouth, thighs, stomach, face, inside. Three.”
You throw your arms over his shoulders, bringing him down to kiss you. A soft, quick peck, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he smiles into your lips, “I’ll carry you and clean you, you don’t have to do anything. I’ll change our sheets, we’ll eat something, watch our show…”
You nod slowly, brain drifting. From the most vulnerable part of your foggy mind comes a question, voice thin as you ask, “You know I don’t want Yeosang, right?”
His eyes flicker over your face, searching for the emotion that asked the question.
“Of course,” he replies, full of confidence, already spitting quick reassurance, “We’re perfect. I’m not angry at you, I’m not upset with you, I don’t have any feelings that will fester over tonight. Are you okay? Did I push you too far?”
You shake your head, “No.” Biting your lip, they scrunch to one side. “I’m okay, I just… Don’t stray too far away from me tonight. Please.”
He leans down to press another kiss on your forehead, “I won’t leave your side. I promise.”
Synopsis. (!) Two assignments overdue: your law professor and your history professor.
Objective: After teasing them all semester, Professor Higuruma Hiromi and Professor Nanami Kento…snap.
Time: At the same time.
Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader x Higuruma Hiromi
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, history professor!Nanami, law professor!Higuruma, college AU, you’re such a TEASE, driving them wiId, they’re overworked, they’re older, tutoring, STERN Nanami, fíngering, rings, p sIapping, p talking, chokíng, rídin’ Higuruma’s nose, oraI (m + f), pússydrunk Higuruma, manhandIing, dragging, running from it, bíting, BOTH, fuII neIsons, bIindfolds, guessing, DP, SAME TIME, spítting, DÚMBlFICATlON, cervíx smoochin’, big stretches, they’re FÉRAL, creampíes, cúmpIay, slight cúmfIation, surprise at the end, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 13.2k
A/N. You babygirls said you wanted more law professor!Higuruma so…I said why not have BOTH?!
He had you next hour.
Professor Nanami Kento - head of the History Department, PhD with Distinction - had you in his next class.
And he wasn’t even half as prepared as he should be: the coffee-maker in the staff room had broken down.
Goodness knows how many times the blond-haired man has haunted that very station. Slouched over, sighing, sipping on his seventh coffee of the day.
And although he could blame it all on the higher-ups and their stingy funding, or perhaps the frat boys of Delta Jujutsu Pi that’ve made it a challenge to sneak inside—he blames you. He wouldn’t even have latched onto such a respite had it not been for the way you made his blood pressure rise…in all sorts of ways.
Nanami’s eyes glaze over, and his hand absent-mindedly drifts between his legs. Perhaps if he got his pent-up energy out first…
“Kento.” A knock at his cubicle. And Nanami jolts his hand away as though it burned-
It was Professor Higuruma Hiromi.
The head of the Law Department. Also PhD with Distinction. The man with dark circles and even darker suits, all prim and poised as he waded through the hallways with his stacks of documents—of course, Nanami was one for suits, as well.
They really brought out his broad shoulders- at least, that’s what you told him.
Another reason why he needs the coffee.
Fuck.
Nanami attempts to even out his breathing as he looks up. “Hiromi.”
If Higuruma thought anything of Nanami’s startled reaction, he makes no indication. Instead he holds up a slim file in his hand, “Are you free? Could you help me with looking over this essay?”
“Of course.”
They were the only two in the staff room right now, besides- anything to take his mind off of you.
Nanami adjusts the gold-rimmed glasses on his face before he takes the file from him. Flipping it open to find a jumble of justice and law jargon that his history-inclined brain balks at—“I never thought you’d want a history professor’s opinion on an essay about…” He squints at the title, “-the scope of judicial power and judicial review. Does this have any names of 14th century shoguns that you need me to check?”
“No- no.” Higuruma runs a hand down his face, though Nanami gets the impression that it wasn’t for him. Rather it was for whatever ravaged at the man inside- making him look up at the ceiling with a hollow sigh—“Man, I need some coffee today.”
“Understandable.” Nanami pushes his glasses up.
“The machine’s broken, right?”
“Right.”
Higuruma only lets out another sigh that Nanami relates to well.
“If it helps, Dean Yaga said it’d be fixed by tomorrow.” Nanami attempts- he never was the type of sociable guy some of the other professors were. But he gets the feeling that Higuruma was the same.
He runs a hand down his face one last time- “That’s too late, I have tutoring this evening with…” And how Nanami Kento related to that, as well. Before he seems to shake himself out of it- somewhat. “It’s alright, could you just check the grammatical and citation stuff for me?”
“Of course.” As Higuruma leans against the partition and waits, the other professor skims through the writing. It wasn’t half bad, to be quite honest, and had it been for his own class then he would’ve given it an A—none too many mistakes except for the odd careless error. At least it was human-made.
After a while of silence, Nanami’s partway through the conclusion when he asks. “Did you happen to get tired of looking through so many essays?”
“No, it’s just…” The dark-haired man sighs once more- for about the twelfth time since he came in. “-this student, you know?”
Nanami nods—he did know. “Trouble student?”
“Not quite.” He almost gulps.
Nanami narrows his eyes. “Doesn’t attend?”
“No, she attends every class.”
“Then what?” He leans back in his chair, essay forgotten now. “The legacy kid? The credit-chaser? The class clown that isn’t actually funny?”
Higuruma cuts through them all with a fierce shake of his head. “No, no, and no—” Almost gulping. “It’s just that this student is a little…distracting.”
The tips of his ears were red.
Instantly, Higuruma looks like he regrets it.
“F-forget I said anything-”
He does.
But Nanami looks squarely at the other man.
“I have a student like that, too.”
The law professor looks at him in wary interest. “Oh?”
“My star student, actually.” Pushing his glasses up, he opens up one of his cabinets and pulls out a thick, paper-stuffed file. And though Nanami Kento does collect his students’ work for the semester to review, he never does keep them quite so close - none other than yours.
Higuruma looks through them with slightly widened eyes. “All hers?”
Nanami nods, “So diligent that it’s almost distracting.”
Higuruma pulls out an empty chair beside Nanami and sits. Legs spread. Dark eyes thoughtful. “Mine, too.” He starts—“Never have I had a student ask for so many hours of extra tutoring.”
“Mine’s basically set up a tent in my office.” Nanami chuckles- though he can’t deny the slight pang it sends down to his cock. “Always taking on more assignments for extra credit, always answering questions first-”
“Always first in class and last to leave?”
“Exactly.” Nanami agrees. And he leans a hand on his desk as he watches the other man go through those papers - they were some of his most prized possessions, he feared to admit. Words from your heart. Swooping slashes of ink from your hands.
It was a part of you in those papers that Nanami Kento held dear to him- fuck, it was a part of you that sometimes he’d bring up to his greedy nose and sniff. Almost as if he could feel your skin through these very parchments.
It made him so fuckin’ hard.
But Higuruma didn’t need to know that.
Though the careful manner in which he handled those papers - how he leaned in just a little to drown in the ink - made him wonder…
“Always wearing the skimpiest skirt to class?”
And the other man looks up in shock- as though conveying something in his silence. Oh.
He flips the file over to look at the name typed-out on the cover, and it reads—yours. Ultimately, he continues—“A-always sittin’ in the front row with her legs spread just a bit?”
Nanami nods. “Always leaning over the desk when she has to speak in private.”
There’s a slight hardening within Higuruma’s eyes - though not of any unpleasant kind - it’s almost as if something deep and carnal was stirring awake right now. “Always wearing the prettiest black lace underneath?”
“She wears baby pink for me.” Nanami can’t help but smile.
“Fuck.” Higuruma runs a hand down his face again- and if Nanami didn’t know any better then he would’ve sworn that the other professor looked even more weary than when he first came in here. “And her panties-”
“Matching set.” Nanami responds without missing a beat - and he knows he’s some ol’ pervert for this.
He knows he is.
But he also knows about the smile that’d spread across your face the moment you’d realized he’d seen. “Bent over too low when picking her pen up one class.”
“Fucking—fuck.” Higuruma sounds agonized.
Nanami leans back in his chair, making it bounce a little bit. With a slightly breathless sigh leaving him, and his cock hardening even more in his pants–he’s forced to manspread under the table a little more. “She’s a needy lil’ thing, isn’t she?”
“That’s putting it lightly.” Higuruma’s lips quirk up into a sensual smile - as if he was reminiscing on the memories. “Wanting to fuck her professors? Seriously?”
“Believe she’s thought of both of us at the same time?”
“Don’t even say that-” The law professor looks around, even though there was no one else here. Looking back at the man with somewhat pleading eyes, “I have tutoring with her this evening. If I can’t even fucking grade her essay without getting a hard-on then what d’you think will happen if I’m thinking of that—?”
“Oh…” Nanami hums to himself, hands lacing in front of him. The coffee-machine really was broken. “-maybe that won’t be an issue.”
Higuruma glances at him with furrowed brows, “How so?”
“What time is your tutoring with her?”
“You mean…”
The blond man shrugs coyly- “I’m not implying anything…but which one of us two do you think is her favorite?”
“And people think you’re the gentleman of us two.” Higuruma grumbles but ultimately spits out the time. It seems you’d opted for tuition classes with your law professor in the after-hours—when the offices were snug, and the department was empty. And he feels his cock perk up at the fact- how many times has he raced back home to plunge into a cold bath after your tuition classes? How many times has his shower heard your name whispered? “I’m most definitely the favorite, by the way-”
So lost in his thought, Nanami nearly doesn’t catch the sentence. He looks over at Higuruma. “Does she call you ‘sir’, too?”
“She does.”
“Well, then we’ll find out, won’t we?”
.
.
.
The two hottest professors on campus.
Higuruma Hiromi (38) with his sleek-cut suits, his polished shoes, and those sleepy eyes that seemed to stare into the depths of your soul. The depths of your body - exposed underneath him. He was a stern teacher, not afraid to make you do an assignment over and over and over again…(and you gladly would). Higuruma’s justice classes made you…wet you had to admit, hearing him bark out simulations of court cases. Orders. Commands.
You could practically hear a sigh echo out across the room every time he acted out his attorney days.
Every time he banged his gavel down made your knees weak.
It was no wonder that students in the law department tittered n’ scattered any time the ruggedly handsome professor walked past.
On the other hand was your history professor.
Nanami Kento (31) with his beefier build, his strong arms, his gentle eyes—twinkling down kindly upon you every time he corrected a mistake. Which - you have to confess - you’ve made a few more times than you really had to, just to feel his molten gaze upon you again and again. He often caused your heart (and something else entirely) to flutter at the deep musicality of his voice, managing to make even the most boring of history passages something interesting. Something that swept the class up easily.
Nanami was reputed around campus for being a complete gentleman - never looking down upon someone, never letting them walk in after him, never letting them pay him a compliment without receiving a sweet one back.
The dream husband.
The stern and the nice.
Both of them- frat guys hated them.
It hadn’t been intentional to join both their classes- honest!
But after seeing them on your first day, how could you not commit to maintaining a spotless attendance? You had a sneaking suspicion that the rest of the class behaved in the same manner for much the same reason - though none took it quite as far as you.
The skirts. The extra credit. The bending.
Speaking honestly, you were a teacher’s pet. Through and through.
And the tightness in their pants whenever you left a class told you- they were the best professors. To you, that is.
Which is why you’d been a little less than happy when Professor Higuruma had told you that someone might be joining your weekly tutoring.
Invigilated tutoring?
What the hell was invigilated tutoring?!
You admit that you’d been forced to hold back a groan of disappointment. Picking such late hours had been a conscious decision—right up there with those tight pencil skirts that you knew your law professor loved but would never admit to.
Professor Nanami was more the type to like free, flirty pleats that barely reached your thigh - and you loved the way his eyes would follow them behind those glasses of his. Even though he pretended they didn’t.
And right now you were wearing a mix of both.
Tight on top, flared at the bottom
Seated opposite his desk - thighs shut, skirt pulled down as low as it would go - more concentrated than you’d ever been during one of these tutoring sessions. It’s been about half an hour since the start of today’s tuition. Higuruma’s office was a cosy space, decked out in the most expensive-looking mahogany banisters, and shelves, and a witness box in the far corner.
It gleamed at the light—down knowingly at you, almost as if waiting for you to make a move.
But how could you? If there was a potential visitor, then you didn’t want to risk Higuruma’s job- as much as you loved teasing your two hot professors, it wouldn’t do to get them fired!
So you kept your hands and your skirts to yourself.
And even Higuruma himself had his eyes raised, possibly wondering why you hadn’t leaned over his desk or lingered a touch at his shoulder for help.
But oh, how you wanted to…
The professor looks down at his watch, “He’s late.”
You’re glancing at the closed door, “Maybe the invigilator isn’t coming?”
“Oh, he will.” Higuruma crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “Trust me, he won’t miss this.”
A shiver runs down your spine.
You wondered what made him so sure.
And yet, you edge closer over the desk to him anyways.
It’s about forty-five minutes into your tutoring session when the door you’ve been sneaking glimpses of this entire time- clicks! And a looming figure walks into the room, his figure nearly taking up the whole frame.
Your jaw drops as you realize—
It’s Professor Nanami.
“Ah- Kento.” Higuruma beckons him over warmly- and you’re nearly suffering from whiplash from watching the two interact. These two are close?! Professor Nanami had been completely normal during your last class, if just a little more distracted than usual - and what was this? “We’ve been waiting.”
He looks at you as he says this.
“I had to penalize a student for missing a few assignments.” Nanami says smoothly, before bringing up a chair beside you and taking his seat. His movements were fluid and precise - as if he wasn’t questioning for a single moment why you were here so late, why you were dressed like that for him, and why you were so damn close.
You’d been staring into his handsome face for so long that he clears his throat. “Continue.”
“S-sir?” You’re chirping- and in your peripheral vision, Higuruma shuffles in his chair.
“Continue.” Nanami repeats in a stern tone. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound like that—“Just as you are. I would like to take notes for teaching my own classes.”
“You heard what he said.” Higuruma nods- and now you’re looking his way to see the most knowing smile on his face. “Continue, angel.”
Your thighs squeeze at the pet name.
Nanami quirks a blond brow and notes something down.
And so you’re ducking back into your work—
“Your blouse button is undone.”
Slightly gasping, you’re reaching down to fix it-
“No, don’t button it.” He interrupts you with his low tone, gravelly with something you can’t pinpoint. You’re looking up at Nanami to find his gaze unwavering from you already- “I was merely noting it. Nothing to fix.”
“But-”
“You unbutton it for my class, too, don’t you?” He asks, and you’re unsure what to say-
“Answer when your teacher speaks to you.” Higuruma’s humming tone echoes—and from the sound of it, he was thoroughly enjoying this. He cocks his head down at you, “Or haven’t they taught you that yet?”
“Th-they have.” You’re squirming in your seat, a slight heat simmering in your stomach. You turn to Nanami, “And I do.”
“Hm.” With nothing more said- he writes something else down in his notes.
And you think you’re in the clear.
For now.
It’s barely a few sentences later on your work that Nanami speaks up again-
“Your feet are touching his.”
You pull away-
“You’ve been writing the same sentence over and over.”
Your hand pauses-
“Your thighs are parted more so than before.”
Immediately, you’re smacking them back shut again- you hadn’t even realized. And how the hell had Nanami even seen?
And you could practically hear the smug smile in his voice - so unlike everything you know of him - as he continues. “And your bra is peeking out.”
“Never seen one before?” You mutter underneath your breath, just about to fix your collar (that you’d very purposefully left open)—
Before Nanami’s voice cuts through again. “Never seen one of yours in black before, is what.” Even as you’re looking at him in slight sensual shock- he doesn’t look up from his papers. “What happened to the baby pink you show-off in my class?”
And Higuruma merely leans back and smiles. “Black is my favorite color, remember?”
“How could I forget?” The history professor answers.
“Though I myself am curious about this baby pink of yours…”
And you have nothing else to do but gape- they knew.
Oh, how they both knew by now.
And by the looks in their eyes, they’d been dying for this very moment.
To confront how you’d been toying n’ teasing them all semester through now- enough so that they’ve apparently begun trading secrets about their unruly star student. You knew that Higuruma tended to have his ears grow hot and red any time he bumped into you in the hallway, and that Nanami would loosen his tie as if undressing whenever you wore a particularly scandalous thing to class - but you hadn’t known they’d been pushed…to this extent.
And you were glad for it.
So you sigh—slouching back in your chair. “So you both know. What now then? Do I get written up or something?”
But Nanami only looks at you through his glasses. “Sit up straight.”
He’s never uttered a command like that in his entire life during your usual lectures. And when you don’t move - merely looking at the blond man with raised brows - Higuruma pipes up. “You best listen to him now, angel.”
“Oh please.” Fluttering your lashes at them both. “And what’re you gonna do about it?”
Higuruma looks at Nanami.
Nanami calmly puts his notes down on the other’s table, and looks at you.
“Why-” He pushes his glasses up his handsome nosebridge. “-teach you a lesson, of course.”
“Both of you?” You could feel the elated giggles bubbling up in your throat- and you could feel the space between your legs start to grow wetter already. Looking between both of them—“Do it then.”
And then it’s a blur - you don’t know where Higuruma’s lips end and yours begin. He’s reached over the surface of his desk to kiss you like a starved man- and he groooans into that very kiss like you were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. Hand on your cheek.
The tips of his canines start nibblin’ on your lower lip- and you’re kissing him back even deeper. “Shit-” Higuruma’s husky tone scorches across your face, “Shit, I’ve been wanting to do this for so fucking long.”
“Mmm, you kiss like husband material.” You’re giggling into the kiss. Both of your hands end up on his shoulders, and you could feel the shifting of his muscles through his slim suit.
“Shit- and you talk like trouble.” He echoes out in an almost pained tone- like every second that his lips were away from yours ached.
And those plump, pursed lips press against yours once more—so much sweeter than you would have expected this booming lawyer to kiss. He’s using the hand on your cheek to tilt down your chin- “May I?” Before the short nod you give lets him slither his tongue in wetly, lappin’ at your sweetest taste. “Shit, you’re really like sugar on my tongue.”
And you’re whining into the fervent kiss, letting it go on for a few more minutes before you’re breaking away with the most lecherous plop! And a thoroughly flushed professor chasing after your lips drunkenly-
“And what about you…” You’re kissing down Higuruma’s sharp jawline, looking at the other man who’d been sitting quietly this entire time. “-sir? Haven’t you wanted to kiss me even once this semester?”
Nanami shivers but he hides it well. Uncrossing his legs and revealing the most rock-hard, aching bulge between his legs—“Kiss? Perhaps.”
And you’re gulping at the sight.
Higuruma scoffs out a slight burst of laughter. “Perhaps.”
“But I’m a gentleman, my love.” Nanami continues, leaning back in that luxurious armchair. He takes off his coat to reveal a pale blue button-up, and beneath that was revealed the most chiselled body you’ve ever seen. He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and beckons towards you. Manspread. Lap so welcoming. “Which means I’ve thought of far, far worse.”
Higuruma - with a final sloppy kiss plastered across your mouth - lets you walk over to Nanami.
Which you do on wobbly legs- plopping down unceremoniously on his lap. More than enough space there for you. He wastes no time bending you into shape in his strong arms, flipping you around to face the other man, and spreading your legs wiiiiiiide open-
Riiiiiip—!
“Whoops.” Nanami’s thoroughly unapologetic tone gruffs against the shell of your ear. Two of his vein-covered forearms were hooked underneath your elbows, and Nanami looks on boredly at the clean split down your skirt—“I always thought you’d look better without these anyway.”
Before he’s spreading your legs even further across his lap. Tearing it even more.
Exposing you for nothing but your tremblin’ legs and those drenched panties. Pretty black in color.
So lacy that it was practically nothing.
Higuruma’s eyes widen, “Dirty girl.”
Nanami breathes, “No, that’s called being a slut.” And shock runs through your body at his words- at Nanami ‘Gentleman’ Kento’s words. Before it’s suddenly overtaken by the sudden feeling of him smearin’ aside your panties and stuffin’ his fingers inside.
Those thick crowns dooooown to the golden ring on his middle finger.
They were long and thick. Swirling and swirling the tip of his digit right ‘round your clit- and when you’re shuddering and unable to take it any longer—he pulls away and licks off that excess slick with a slurp!
Humming to himself as though it was the greatest delicacy in the world. “One thing you should know about me, darling, is that just because I’m gentleman-” And you’d been so caught up in his ragged tone, you didn’t even realize that he’d snaked his hand back down between your legs. “-doesn’t mean that I’m not depraved.”
And he’s ending off the sentence not with a full stop- no, but with a sudden shove of his fingertips between your folds. So swollen n’ sweet with slick.
You buck and he lurches his hand out to slap you on top of your pussylips.
“Down, darling.”
“Please…” You don’t even know what you’re begging for.
But Nanami’s mouth waters already at the sound of it, and he’s keeping it at bay by pushing n’ pulling on the first ring of muscle at your cunt. “I said down.”
Head throwing back against his collarbone. “Oh.”
Fucking you with just the first inches of his fingers- “It doesn’t mean that m’not desperate.” Continuing as though your eyes weren’t bulging, as though your legs weren’t shaking, as though you weren’t arching off of his muscular chest. “It doesn’t mean that m’not ready to debase this pussy like she deserves.”
“Y-you mean—” You’re hiccuping, eyes starting to water at the sheer raw stretch. It was the type that left your pussy burning in the most delicious way - the feeling of having Nanami Kento’s scourin’ fingertips eager to enter your cunt. “-that whole gentleman thing was just a lie?”
“It’s not.” He responds. Final. His blond strands fall over his forehead as he keeps his eyes locked on your glistening hole, scissoring his fingers at that entrance n’ spreading you even wider. “I’m nice…”
Adding in a third finger before you’re even registering his second.
“-to everyone but this slutty pussy, that is.”
“Sh-shit—” Mewling at the top of your lungs, you’re clawing down Nanami’s strong forearms. They were the perfect thing to hold onto- just about the only thing you could hold onto as he utterly ruined your pussy with short, jerking thrusts.
Bulging the sides of your velvety walls open with his globular tips.
Cold metal ring shocking you.
So thick that he manages to probe into a few of your sensitive spots without even trying. Dragging his flexible fingers across every inch of you.
Scissoring and opening up and scissoring—deep.
Tears track down your cheeks at the sheer stimulation.
“Go easy on her, Kento.” Higuruma can’t help but groan at the sight of your pretty crying face. And soon enough, you’re hearing the metallic clinking of a belt buckle- “Don’t want to break our star student, now, do we?”
Nanami purrs against your temple. “Mmm, I don’t mind.”
“Just remember that she’s tutoring with me.”
The sound of Higuruma’s belt hitting the polished wooden floorboards is enough to make your eyes startle open- and oh, how you’re so glad it did.
Because then you’re greeted with the sight before you: of Higuruma Hiromi in utter ecstasy. All because of you.
He’d taken your seat from prior, chair angled perfectly to face the show taking place in front of him.
Where Nanami had your legs spread aaaaaall the way as far as they would go - until Nanami could hear your joints threatening to pop - and facing the dark-haired man. His dark eyes glinted as they stared down at your glistening hole, swallowing Nanami’s rams easily.
Slurps n’ squelches emanating like music.
Cunt dripping everywhere over the history teacher’s tight trousers. And the larger that puddle you were forming seemed to grow, the harder Nanami’s hammerin’ pace seemed to become.
You could barely keep your eyes open long enough to see Higuruma tug down his black pants- that throbbing erection of his making an appearance. He wraps his hands around his thickened base and starts tugging, soft grunts leaving his mouth at the rapid pull-pull-pull of his cock. “Shit, she’s so fucking wet- be a little nicer with that pussy o’ hers, would you?”
“Hmmm…I don’t think she deserves it.” And with that said, Nanami plants yet another sodden spank on top of your cunt. Ring grazing your front- “She hasn’t learned her lesson yet, has she?”
That stinging sensation zaps throughout your entire body and makes you buck. “I-I have—”
Before yet another thwack! of Nanami’s calloused fingertips follow.
Harder, this time.
“I was talking to this pussy, actually.”
And he doesn’t even wait for the primal sting to pass by before openin’ your cunt up and thrusting his fingers inside again. In and out.
Push after push into your gooey depths.
You’re so sensitive n’ wet by this point that even the slightest movements have you emanating out the loudest sounds. Squelches upon squelches—every time he’s hitting a spot deep inside your hole. “Mhmm…mmmhm.” You could feel Nanami’s head slightly nodding above your own, as if locked deeply in a conversation with your pussy’s sounds. Just one whine of yours and he’s spankin’ on you once more- “Wait your turn, my love. She’s talking t’me.”
And Higuruma- ah, Higuruma has the audacity to snicker at the action. “Now that’s just bullying, Kento.”
“Is it?” He’s slappin’ down on your pussylips once more. Listening for the sound, “She says it isn’t so.”
You’re sending a narrowed glare his way that makes the law professor roll his eyes fondly.
“Oh, alright alright-” And he half-heartedly waves off at his colleague. “Be a little nicer to my dear student, won’t you?”
“Spoiled brat.” Yet another spank. Nanami sinks his canines into the shell of your ear, and he’s tuggin’ and teasing—he’s spreading his legs even further and settling you down. With your back against his rippling chest, he pushes and pushes his greedy fingers inside your pussy. “And why do you think you- hah, deserve that, huh? Haven’t you been fucking torturing us all semester long now?”
Higuruma groans. “Can’t deny that, angel.” His hands fly even faster up and down his cock- ravaged and reddened with need.
“Mhmmmm.” The blond-haired man agrees, “Haven’t you been wearing those slutty skirts expecting to get fucked in them? Haven’t you- fuck, haven’t you been wearing that damn lingerie hoping we’d take a peak? Aren’t I right?”
He waits for your pussy to answer first- and then you’re answering. “I-I mean-” Attempting to.
“Haven’t you been bendin’ over and shit just because you wanted to show up in our wildest dreams? To consume our thoughts and make our cocks twitch?”
“Well-”
“And we did.” Higuruma pipes up next. He was so needy that he was practically bucking off of his chair, making it creak with movement. Short, jerky thrusts.
“Oh, yes we did.” Nanami continues. He leans down to your ear, as if exposing a secret- “I’d look forward to our classes everyday, my love. I’d have to fuck my fist raw before class- just so I wouldn’t fuck you senseless in front of everyone like how you were begging me to.”
Higuruma moans as he thumbs down the line of his flared tip - that pinkish, slippery line. He twitches as though he’s near to cumming already. “Me- me, too…”
“And you still expect me to be a gentleman?”
You’re restless, opening your mouth to defend yourself and—
Nanami only leans down and spits a glittery wad of spit between your pursed lips. “Don’t talk when the teacher’s talking, darling.”
And your ears pop with pressure-
He’s hittin’ the plushness of his palm against your pussy with a loud smack! Smearing the curves n’ divots of his fingers dooooooown and up your walls, down and up.
His crown fingertips reach for your deepest innards- and you swear you can feel him stroking your very cervix. Runnin’ his frigid ring across your walls.
Drawing a few lines and marking his placement right back there, before he tunnels his digits at a frenzied pace - fingers almost nothing but a pale blur between your legs. His speed is so feverish that it leaves your sheen tricklin’ all down your thighs.
Trickling and trickling and—
And then you feel Nanami hook his fingers against your g-spot.
The pleasure shoots up your body like a lightning strike, “O-oh my god—right there, Kento.”
“Kento? Who’s Kento?” Nanami doesn’t even falter his fingering to answer, cooing in that tone that you’d almost mistake for something sweet. “I think you meant sir-”
“S—fuck.”
“Say it.” He huffs against the side of your face. Teeth almost out for blood- “Say it. Call me ‘sir’ or you don’t get to cum.”
“I—”
“Say it.” Higuruma, to your surprise, echoes from his seat. Where he had his gaze burning into your spread-open pussy n’ his mouth drooling at the vision of you—“Say it, angel. I need to see that pretty pussy cum.” Hands rubbing faster and faster-
“She deserves to cum, mhm.” Nanami nods. “But do you, huh?”
“I-I do.” You’re nodding up at your desperate professors. One just barely in your line of vision- but his fingers were working up such a storm. His slightly-tanned arms pinning you down, working your pussy open, hitting that target of your g-spot like a cute button. Again and again—
Blond hair ruffled. Glasses slipping down his sweaty nosebridge.
And then the other one that was just creamin’ his precum down his hands. With his hands on his swollen erection - one of them creating a tunnel for him to fuck his fist, the other flattening over his dribblin’ divot to stop from cumming already.
Sleepy eyes half-lidded. His pale thighs shivering as they bucked n’ rutted.
And the vision itself is enough to make you cum- but then again it just felt so good on Nanami’s hands, and underneath Higuruma’s gaze. So you can’t help but let your lips wobble open—“P-please let me cum-” Stars bursting behind your vision once Nanami presses down on your clit as well. “-sirs.”
The two older men look at each other.
“Sirs?” Higuruma asks, voice breathless with ecstasy.
“She just begged for both of us.” Nanami grumbles out - though not quite unhappily. It made his cock twitch deep in his pants to have you whimperin’ like this, and he continues. “Alright then, you slutty pussy.”
And it takes only a few more strokes - a few more direct thrashes along your g-spot - for you to hurtle straight into your high.
It’s so strong that you’re seeing white behind your eyelids—and your mouth blabbers out an unintelligible combination of both professors’ names. Toes curling. Sweat beading down your temple.
Nanami holds you down as you’re thrown through wave upon wave of your orgasm, your hips bucking up and down desperately. Riding throughout your bliss- and if that wasn’t already enough, he counts underneath his breath to measure how long it takes between your peaks of euphoria. Before hittin’ away at your g-spot just in time with each one.
The sensations that take you over are just incredible.
And your head falls back limply against Nanami’s shoulder.
Shivering. Almost as if you were in heat- and your pretty pussy gushes out honeyed slick as though to give credit to that statement.
Lavishing Nanami’s open thighs with all your sap—Higuruma eyes the mess and gulps. “Kento, give me a taste of that.”
Nanami scoffs. “In due time.”
“Kento, I need her pussy on my face now.”
Slowly but surely, you’re fluttering your eyes open at the feeling of being shuffled around - only seeing the beautiful, brown eyes of Higuruma Hiromi staring down at you. When did he get so close?
“Hiromi?” You’re blubbering out stupidly, still suffering from the aftershocks of your previous high. Those zapping bursts of electricity made your thighs twitch sensitively- “I mean- sir?”
Higuruma shivers, “You trained her well, Kento.”
“Mhmmm—” Nanami noses down the column of your throat proudly.
“Maybe now it’s time for a reward then, huh?”
You’re perking up. “Yes, please.”
Nanami snickers. “You spoil her.”
And in almost no time, you’re finding yourself handed off to the law professor - Nanami stands up and gets off of the armchair. While Higuruma takes his place-
At least, that’s what you think is going to happen.
But what ends up happening instead is that Higuruma seats you down on the chair, letting your barely-clothed pussy rub up against the cushion. Something in his eyes gleams at the way you’re squirming, and he speaks to you in a gentle tone. “Can you turn around and hold the headrest f’me, angel? Be a good girl f’me?”
“A-alright?” Confused, you’re just doing what he says. He meant that you had to turn and climb your knees onto the seat, ass turned towards the professors, back slightly arched.
“Mmm, good.” Higuruma admires the view. “Arch that back just a little more f’me now, alright?”
“Like this?”
And still not sure what he was about to do, you can only follow his commands. It almost feels like a doggy position- and you hold onto the wooden headrest for dear life.
“Mhmmm.”
And Nanami’s the first to mutter to himself, “Don’t tell me you’re…” He takes in the sight of you - with your front resting against the backrest of the chair. You have your spine bent, your ass cheeks displayed for them, your cunt not quite on the seat—“Hiromi, you dirty dog.”
“Couldn’t help myself.” Steadily, Higuruma’s kneeling on the floor.
There’s no warning before he then shoves his face nose-deep into your cunt- straight from behind.
Higuruma grabs onto either side of your ass cheeks, his prominent nose curvin’ up the slit of your pussy. He’s using his grip on you to draaaag you further down onto his face—“Mhmmm—spread those legs.”
He’s muttering.
He’s spitting- stern lips pursing and letting out a rivulet of saliva.
It strikes vertically down your cunt before Higuruma’s running his fat tongue over it. Smearing around the mess he’s made- but most importantly, smearing around the mess that you’ve made.
You’re whining as Higuruma’s textured tastebuds seem to take over your pussy. All the way from the plumpness of your folds, and then dipping between them to tease your hole- you’re still so sensitive from the massage that Nanami’s fingers had simmered into you. And you’re trembling your thighs further open, “P-please- fuck-”
“I’m a lawyer so I’m really good with my tongue, y’know?” Higuruma pants out, scorching hot against your needy pussy. “But that means my fees are high, too-”
“A-and what are your fees?” You’re sobbing out.
“Mmmm…” He takes the time to think—and by that, you mean that he rovers his mouth over where your clit was throb-throb-throbbing. The law professor takes his sweet time spreadin’ open your pussylips with his tongue, before letting his tongue flop out n’ draaaaaag down your clit-
And his next words are so lecherously muffled. “Ride my nose raw, sugar.”
You gasp.
In the background, you can hear a gruff bout of laughter that notably doesn’t belong to Higuruma.
You grip onto the headrest of the chair harder than ever- because in a split-second, Higuruma’s thumbin’ your folds open and stuffing your hole all full of his tongue.
So loooong and slick- curving right against the roof of your pussy. It makes you jolt to feel his honed, flexible tip zig-zagging its way down your channel—mazing and mazing inside that it’s as though his wet muscle was never-ending.
Higuruma Hiromi was damn ravenous.
He feels your knees start to slip away from him- and he claws his fingers deep into the globes of your ass cheeks to pull you back. Uncaring if you’re whining for mercy- “A-aren’t you supposed to be the nice one, sir?”
“Spoiled.” Nanami’s voice echoes from the distance.
“Mmm- keep calling me that, yeah?” Groans wrenching from the back of his throat at the mere sound of that title being said in your pretty voice. How nice it was to make you beg. “And no—”
“No?”
“I am being nice by letting you ride my nose, aren’t I?” His head jerks just a little upwards to look at you- and Higuruma can just barely make out the shock on your face. “I know how much you’ve wanted to ride it-”
“Hiromi-”
“Ever since ya fuckin’ met me, huh?” His rough tone vibrates through every vessel of your body- pushed even further by the constant swabbin’ he was doing inside. Swab after swab. “Ever since ya first saw me- don’t think I didn’t see how you stared at me.”
You’re clawing further up the headrest. “B-but how did you know-”
“Oh, angel…” Higuruma almost chuckles. Something dark and depraved- “If I was wrong then you wouldn’t be so fucking wet- I can barely breathe.”
Both of his roughened palms plaster around your thighs. Draaaagging you bodily - as though you were nothing against him - to glue your pussylips to his own lips.
He makes out with your pussy like a man parched.
“And I don’t need to.”
Your vision blurs with pleasure as Higuruma spreads your folds perfectly apart- and starts rammin’ his tongue into you wildly. Thick and thirsty for the taste of your sweet, sweet juices—any time that even a mere droplet of your sap starts to drip down your thighs- you can best believe that Higuruma was whipping his head down to slurp it up. “Harder.”
“I-I am-”
“Faster.”
“Fuck-”
“Raw, I said raw.”
Practically addicted to it.
He’s pussydrunk in with just a few sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. And you yourself can feel your pupils start to circle inside the whites of your eyes.
Spreading yourself even further on the chair to meet his utterly ravenous mouth-
“Didn’t forget about me now, did you?”
Nanami Kento sounds the closest he’s been since he had you on his fingers- which could feel like minutes, hours, days ago by now. It takes you significant effort to blink away the clingy film of tears on your eyes, and you’re opening them to find that he was actually…standing right in front of you.
Nanami had rounded the side of the armchair - and if you looked up, there his handsome face was. So now you have your law professor at your behind, and your history professor’s crotch in front of your face. His pants much too tight.
His cock thick and throbbing underneath there.
Clasping onto the headrest of the chair, if you raised your head juuuuust a little then you’d be able to mouth over the twitching erection he hid underneath there. “K-Kento?”
Nanami looks down at you through his gold-rimmed glasses. Grinning at your teary expression, “Only a few minutes with your nice teacher n’ you’ve already forgotten your manners, my love?” His hand falls to his formal pants, “Guess we have to go back to lesson one.”
“O-oh…”
Nanami had already unbuckled his belt and lets it drop to the floor—clink! Followed right along with the popping of his buttons, it doesn’t take too long before you’re face-to-face with his rock-hard bulge. Achingly hard. Almost painfully hard.
Barely held together by his boxers, he seeps out such volumes of precum that it creates a dark patch on the silken fabric. It glistens just a bit under the dim lighting of the office- something that makes you gulp.
And something that makes Higuruma nudge his tongue even deeper inside of you- shit, you could feel yourself growing more aroused. And he could taste it.
“Did you know she gets sweeter n’ sweeter the wetter she gets?” Higuruma slurs from in-between your legs, latching onto your clit with a loud squelch! “And you won’t believe it…but right now she tastes like the tastiest strawberry candy- heh.”
“Is that so?” Nanami’s nose crinkles as he looks down at you. He’s admiring that drunken expression on your face for a little bit, before reaching his right hand down and clasping at the back of your head. “Filthy girl.”
You shiver. “C-can’t help it-”
“Ah ah—not another word out of you.” The blond-haired man continues. His grip tightens- “I expect you not to speak when your professor is speaking-”
Cocking his head just a little, Nanami takes a glance at the famished way that Higuruma was kissin’ between your legs. Gasping. Gulping.
He had his mouth gaped wide open and was dragging it across every inch of your pussy that he could reach- sticking that long tongue of his between your pussylips. You’re almost sandwiching his tastebuds for a bit before he manages to flicker his tastebuds inside again—then in and out, in and out, in and out.
Faster than before.
Reeling back out to slap! your pussy with the flat surface of his tongue.
Then probin’ back in again.
Higuruma’s just being so loud-
“-and when this pussy is speaking.” The rest of the history professor’s sentence makes you gasp - brain so muddled that you’d almost forgotten what he was saying. Almost forgotten that he has a firm grip on your sweaty scalp—one that he’d now turned into two hands upon your sweaty scalp.
Tugging your head forwards as if you were nothing but a ragdoll to smush your face against his boiling hot erection.
Your jaw falls open and soon enough, you’re salivating all over his clothed cock.
Tongue lavishing across the cotton of his boxers- feeling every ridge n’ vein along his shaft.
He groans at the feeling of your heated mouth, and his fingers dig into your scalp even deeper. Tugging. Needing. One set of your fingers reach upwards to fumble its hem, and you take Nanami’s round, reddened tip into his mouth.
Moaning at the large size of him.
Moaning at the salty taste that floods your mouth-
“Hey now…” Higuruma’s choked-up tone echoes from behind. You’re feeling his tender fingers start to pull your hips back onto his face, “-don’t steal my star student away.”
“Have you forgotten that she’s my star student, too?”
“Her pussy’s on my mouth right now- so who’s in charge?”
“Well, let’s ask how she feels about it…” Nanami’s voice trails off—and only too late are you realizing that he isn’t talking about your pussy this time. He’s talking about you- waiting for your answer.
And you’re attempting to muffle out something, letting the globular edge of his cock swirl around your mouth a few times. Around and around. Just the crown of his mushroom tip prods into your every orifice inside- you’re opening your mouth to answer when Nanami jerks his hips forwards.
Fucking his cock deeeeep into your maw.
And with it, whatever words were in your throat, too.
“I dunno about that-” Nanami hums down at the chokes n’ strangled gasps you’re letting out, just the barest noises of whatever was able to filter past his swollen shaft. “-but it sounded like a ‘you, sir’ to me.”
“Didn’t know you were that depraved.” Higuruma spits out. Dark eyes narrowed as he’s grinding you back to him n’ lapping away at your oversensitive pussylips.
“I’m a gentleman, what can I say?” The other professor responds.
As the slurps n’ sucking continues, Nanami looks at you through half-lidded eyes. He admires the way your mouth leaves a glittering glaze of spit from the tip of his cock and doooown to about halfway down his shaft—so cute how you couldn’t fit it all. “And as Head of your pussy-” Fuck, when did he even assign himself that? Is he pussydrunk already? “-I say you can’t cum until you’re fitting my cock aaaaaall the way…”
The history professor’s left hand lifts off of your scalp. Then dragging down the front of your throat - down, down, down.
“-here.”
He points to a spot way past the back of your throat.
He fucks your mouth like he’s agonized every second he isn’t reaching for it.
Higuruma growls.
And thereafter it’s almost like a tug-of-war - on one end you’re being hauled forwards by Nanami’s grip on the back of your head. His hands strong and unwavering, no matter much you’re gasping for air- fuck, the ever-gentlemanly Nanami Kento was gone for the feeling of your mouth tightening around his hot cock.
Rutting those toned hips up into your velvety cavern like an animal-
“Just a little more.” That left hand of his wraps around your throat now, his thumb markin’ at the spots where he can feel his rounded tip probing inside. “Just a liiiiittle more now- about four inches? Heh.”
“Mmm—” Your eyes go wide in surprise.
And Nanami responds by pushing his hips even further, nearing the tip of your nose to those curls of blond at his base. “C’mon, c’mon.”
And on the other end, Higuruma had his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. Into the flesh of your ass. His tongue fishing around your insides before he pulls out and starts nibblin’ on your damn clit—
He’s thirsty. Depraved.
“Noooo, angel.” He’s gluing his chin to the front of your pussylips. Head moving back and forth, back and forth, back and forth as the law professor lashes his tongue across. “Come back to me-”
“Mmm—” You’re being pulled off of Nanami Kento’s reddened, dribblin’ cock with a plop! Just from the sheer pressure of Higuruma manhandling your body from the other side - dragging you all down his handsome face. “Fuh-fuck-!”
“Where’d you think you’re going?” Only for Nanami to barely let you breathe for a split-second before he’s pulling your mouth down his shaft again.
Shovelling a gooooood few inches of his vein-covered cock inside- he marks that spot out on your throat. Even deeper than the last time you had him- “Mmm, not bad. Just a few inches- mmm, more.”
“Ride my nose.” Higuruma begs from the other end. Breath breezing down your gooey core, it makes your thighs shiver- “Ride my nose, I don’t care. Ride my nose, ride my nose—”
And you’re just so overstimulated from all ends.
From the draaagging of Nanami’s thumb down the front of your neck, from the sensual touch of Higuruma’s nose being sandwiched between your pussylips, from the pleasure of them both playing with your body. It’s as if you’re their favorite toy to taste, to fuck - to worship because of the way they were being driven to absolute madness by those carnal sensations.
You can only jolt your body back and forth.
Down Nanami’s cock. Up Higuruma’s ready face.
Riding his nose just like you wanted- “S-so—” Somehow barely managing to gurgle out past the pulsating tip of his cock, “So close-”
“Close?” Higuruma perks up. “Fuh-fuck- I have you, angel.”
“Remember- no cumming until you take it here.” Nanami presses his thumb somewhere near where your voicebox was bulging with the intrusion of his inches. “You’re not there yet, darling…”
“But-”
“Please let her cum.” But to your surprise, it’s your law professor who is pleading your face.
Nanami raises a blond brow, “Oh?”
“Let her-” He slurps away on your swollen nub- sensitive and throbbing. He’s hollowing his cheeks out to get that suctioning sensation, already making your knees feel weak with pleasure. “Need her to- fuck, want her to cum on my tongue. Let her cum already.”
Nanami thrusts even deeper, “Hmm…I dunno.”
“I’m the one asking you.” Higuruma grumbles. “Let her cum-”
“Mmmpf- please.” And your brows furrow as the pit of bliss in your stomach grows stronger.
“Let her-” The law professor continues, “I’m begging you- fuck, she’s becoming so sweet. Let her cum-”
Pale brows furrowing. Sweat lines down his temple- “I don’t…just fit-” And he’s scrapin’ his bulbous tip down the roof of your cunt—all the way along to the back of your throat and targeting even further. “If she takes it until-”
Higuruma’s nose helping your grinds and bounces. “Just let her cum-”
“If she takes it-”
“Fucking let her-”
“G-gonna—” It’s the last thing you’re managing to get out before a sudden slam! of Nanami’s hips shut you up- and before you know it, you’re feeling the carnal scratch of his pubic hair. The feeling of his tawny curls at your skin, the intrusion of his throbbing shaft all the way down your throat.
And his thumb tapping where he’d marked a treasure spot - a spot he was supposed to meet. Nanami doesn’t have to say a single thing for Higuruma to bite his sharp canines down on your clit.
And before you know it, you’re bursting into your nth high of the night.
Not just your second, but your third, perhaps even your fourth.
Stars burst behind your eyelids, and your moans are nothing but soft crackles at the back of your throat. Higuruma draaaaags you all throughout those waves of bliss, elongating them with the thorough lavishing of his tongue.
Probin’ into every sweet spot.
Inside and out.
He digs his fingers into your thighs, now accomplishing his dream of having you ride his nose. Because you’re being made to arch your back n’ bounce your hips lecherously up and across.
Hittin’ those best angles- the peaks of your high absolutely burst through you.
And Nanami? Your history professor was enjoying the view - cocking his head to the side and smiling as you shatter on Higuruma’s face. He watches about half your orgasm bate, before starting to fuck his swollen cock back in and out of you. Thrusting.
“Now now—” Nanami murmurs. “You should be thankful my rubric’s so generous this time.”
You can only look up at him with your teary eyes.
That sight is enough for him to bite down on his lower lip n’ stop himself from cumming. No, he had something more important in his mind…
“Thirty seconds to finish up.” He says meanly. “Before I either drag your pussy off of his face or you have to drag yourself off, m’kay?”
“Tch- stingy.” Higuruma keeps lappin’ at you even after your high has passed.
And once that thirty seconds of more bliss have passed - just like Nanami said - he grips both hands ‘round the back of your scalp and wrenches you off of his cock. Off of Higuruma’s mouth. He’s bending down to spit straight between your lips—
“Now, I’m gonna be nice this one time because you took all of me. Understood?” The history professor states, so firm. “Nod if you understand, my love.”
You nod.
“Good.” He then kisses your lips- tasting you, tasting himself. “Now…do you want it from the back or face-to-face? Because m’fucking you filthy either way.”
“From- from the back.” You pant out.
And Nanami gives a single, stern nod before he lets you go. “Brace yourself.”
You’re collapsing back into the chair—sitting your ass down on it this time. Before the law professor suddenly has you in his arms - he supports you in getting off of the armchair and standing up. Now in the middle of his office, you’re stumbling onto your wobbly feet.
Your arms loop around Higuruma’s neck. “Hiromi…”
“Mmm, I love it when you call me that.” Higuruma kisses you.
“How unruly.” Both of you snap your heads at the sound of buttons popping- only to find that Nanami was taking off his button-up. And you were right- fuck, you were so right. He was so thoroughly chiselled underneath, almost Herculean in nature.
With the most naturally defined ridges n’ curves of his muscles—his firm pectorals, his washboard abs, his meaty thighs that make an appearance.
Nanami sheds of all his clothes before he stares down the two of you- “Addressing your professor by name? Clearly going against objectives to get ready? Making me jealous? What an undisciplined class, no need to be standing around.” He looks at you, “I’ll be fucking you until you can’t stand, anyway.”
A shiver runs down your spine—“Oh.”
“Now, darling.”
Higuruma lets you waddle away to Nanami- who merely swivels you around and bends you over the edge of his colleague’s desk. Papers and ink flying everywhere across the office as he does.
Folding you forwards until your head hits the table. Kneeing your legs apart.
It’s hitting you like a truck - your history professor is about to fuck you against your law professor’s desk.
“Stay still.” He gravels in your ear.
Nanami’s barely letting you take a breath before rubbin’ his bulbous tip down your dripping wet slit from behind. Hand gripping his thick hilt—up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Getting his inches coated in a glaze of your sap, Nanami hums at the feeling of you attempting to contract around him.
“This naughty girl’s reeeeal needy for me, huh?” Scorching breath heating up your skin, he kisses down your arched spine. “She says she can take all of me- can you?”
“Y-yes—” You’re sobbing into the polished mahogany. Bucking your hips up, “I want it, sir.”
You’re jolting as his puckered, pinkish tip smooches at your wet entrance- he’s just so thick that he can plug your hole up easily. Nanami’s tip throbs against your hole, and he reaches a right hand down to feel your pretty stomach - to feel where he’s going to be hittin’ with his hungry cock.
He breathes out airily—“You want it?”
“Yes-”
“Say please.”
“Please-”
“Hmmm?”
“Please, sir.”
Nanami lurches his hips back, back, backwards- “As you wish then, teacher’s pet.”
And then you’re being stuffed with an inch or two of him.
And by stuffed—you were seriously stuffed.
Thick and thorough. Almost too big to even fit in - Nanami fills out the orifice of your cunt without even trying. His ruby-red tip just manages to squeeze between your pussylips, before the first ring of muscle at your entrance makes him falter.
And he’s gritting his teeth at the sheer tightness, voice coming out as nothing but a hiss. “Fuck- didn’t you say that you can take it?” He’s pressing his left hand down at the base of your spine, leaning his weight in to keep you still. “Come back, my love- class isn’t over yet.”
You hadn’t even realized you’d been clawing at the desk until now. “S-sir—”
Just that is enough to make Nanami’s ravaged tip twitch inside of you- spurting out a few more dollops of pre. “Yes, darling?”
“I d-don’t—” Fuck- you swear you could feel him grow even harder inside of you at the sight of your teary expression. Staring at your history professor over your shoulder, “I don’t know if it even can fit.”
“Awww, my poor baby.” And you should know better than to let Nanami Kento hush your cries, you should know better than to let him lull you.
But you can’t help but get pulled into his big, strong arms anyway.
“My poor, poor baby.” And from one corner of the room, you could hear Higuruma’s distant laugh. Although you don’t have the time to wonder what it means, because Nanami’s continuing- “None of those boys ever taught you how to take a real cock, hm?”
And you can only nod.
“None of those boys have ever fucked you right, hm?”
Nodding once more.
“Don’t you worry, darling. If you can’t take this one…”
He presses a chaste peck against your hairline. Letting his soft breath waft over the crown of your head, and his chest ripple with his words, soft.
“-m’gonna make it fit.”
And that’s the last thing you’re hearing before Nanami’s rammin’ his swollen, aching cock into you like an animal- his furious cockhead burrowing in deep.
He manages to shovel just a few more inches inside, before the snugness of your channel acts up once more. Leaving him barely even able to reel his hips backwards—just that much of a tight fit that’s making his eyes roll to the back of his skull.
He shakes.
His groan cracks at the back of his throat. “O-oh.” Both of Nanami’s hands fly to the sides of your hips, and his fingers fucking shake where he holds you. “Oh, yeah.”
“Shit-” You’re flinching at the scalding sensation of his breath. Gusting.
And even that mere shiver- Nanami catches onto it. And it’s only making him clasp your body even tighter, pulling you into him—“You’re really not getting away until we make it fit, my love. Good luck.”
No matter how much his ravenous hips are rutting n’ bucking and trying oh-so-desperately to hammer even more of his inches inside- he can only fuck you in short, needy half-thrusts. The rest of him left to throb wildly behind you, he keeps on stretching and stretching your insides just to fit inside.
Each one of his bucks so desperate. So greedy.
The pointed tip of Nanami’s cockhead prods away at your innards as though he’s trying to claim every single ounce of space inside you-
“Have you forgotten that this is a joint class, Kento?”
Higuruma’s voice is enough to send pulses of adrenaline flowing through your body - and you’re just managing to look around Nanami’s toned frame. The law professor stands behind the two of you with his arms crossed, clothes mostly on except for his trousers being tugged down.
He held his blushin’ cock in one hand, pumping furiously at the sight of his star student.
Nanami himself sighs—though he doesn’t stop his sloppy scouring of your innards for a single second. He looks straight at the other man as he asks- “Oh yes…would you like her now or after me, Hiromi?”
“Now.” Higuruma narrows his heady eyes at the two of you. And the blond-haired man slightly growls at his answer, seemingly grappling with the thought of leaving your pretty pussy right about now- “But don’t pull out.”
You feel like you’re experiencing whiplash. “What?”
Nanami only raises a sharp brow.
And Higuruma himself can’t help but crack a sleazy smirk-
Before you know it, he’s rounding the two of you. Coat off. White button-up flapping open.
He tugs on the smooth, black tie that was hanging haphazardly from his neck- and gestures something indiscernible at the other man.
Though, clearly both professors understood.
Because one second you’re slouched on top of Higuruma’s desk, droolin’ stupidly over some important documents as Nanami Kento pounds you into oblivion - and in the next second, he’s lifting you off of it.
Cleanly off the desk.
One hand wrapped around your waist, the other putting you in a headlock.
He pulls you up as though you’re nothing- and you’re ogling the way his biceps bulge around your throat. Feeling the cushy firmness of his strength—“W-what are you-”
“D’you know what a standing full nelson is?” Higuruma asks. And for a second you think he’s asking you - maybe this was some strange sort of quiz - but then Nanami nods.
“Thought that only happens in fiction? Don’t tell me you’re a secret freak, Hiromi?” He scoffs, though he pulls out either way.
“And look who’s talking…” Then Higuruma looks at you and taps his shoulders. “Hold on, angel, he’s going to lift you.”
“Shit…”
As expected, you’re holding onto Higuruma’s broad shoulders for leverage- whilst Nanami bends and loops his hands around your legs. His strong forearms where your knees were.
Scooping you up into his arms.
Holding them up.
Holding you up.
Hoverin’ well over six feet in the air.
Yelping, you’re digging your nails into the law professor’s shoulders - but if it hurt, then he doesn’t’ react to the pain. Honestly, you don’t even think he could feel it right now—because Higuruma was holding out his tie.
Measuring it against your face-
Tying it around your face like a blindfold.
He knots it at the back of your head, and suddenly the room is curtained in nothing but pure black. You could only hear the gruffness of both men’s chuckles, and Higuruma asking. “Everything alright, angel?”
“Of course, it is.” Nanami mutters- almost to himself. Though he does stretch your legs a little wider, presumably to show to the other man—“Look how fucking drenched she is.”
“Good girl.”
“Naughty, you mean.”
“I must beg to differ.”
And you’re arching against Nanami’s toned front, the plushness of his abs digging against your back. It was the most sensual massage you’ve felt in your entire life- “Please- ngh, what’s with the blindfold?”
“Oh, that…” Higuruma starts. “Guess.”
“What?”
“Guess.”
Brains wracking- “You aren’t going to leave me hanging, are you?”
“No.”
“Is this a roleplay?”
“No.”
“A kink thing?”
“Well…”
“A BDSM thing?”
“Guess.”
You’re feeling helplessness wash over you—“B-but, I already did-”
“No, my love.” Nanami’s the one to speak up this time. He leans down so that he’s pressing an innocent kiss to the edge of your hairline, “We’re going to make this slutty pussy guess which one of us she’s being fucked by.”
Your jaw drops.
And your cunt grows even wetter.
An occasion that the two professors are watching with awe-
Higuruma in particular finds himself breathing out—“And your time starts…now.”
And then you’re hearing the shuffling of his trousers- right before a sudden proddin’ intrusion starts up at your entrance. It was hot and throbbing—so needy that your teeth are set on edge by the sheer volume of precum that he was emptying out.
You’re feeling his thick tip start to eeeease in- squeezing in past the tightness of your channel for a bit before pulling back and fucking you ruthlessly in semi-thrusts.
“H-Hiromi?” You guess. Surely, with him being the one that was removing his trousers it must be…
“Wrong.” Nanami grins.
And then you’re feeling his cock give you a few vicious pumps before he’s pulling away - leaving you all empty and yearning for more. Your glistening hole clenches a few times around nothing, before a sudden globular tip starts kissin’ your entrance once more.
You’re bucking back in Nanami’s arms in an attempt to figure out just who it might be- but the history professor holds onto you firmly. Not a single inch.
Not a single inch less.
Whoever was fucking you takes no more time before swabbin’ his swollen erection inside once more- biting back a groooan at the feeling of your tightening walls.
It’s the same short, jerky thrusts from before just to fit in.
“Sir?” You’re gasping out. But surely, it can’t be twice in a row…“No wait- is it Hiromi this time?”
The cadence of his hips stops abruptly. “Can’t get enough of the law, can you?”
Nanami.
And you don’t know whether it’s the fact that you’re just feeling your brain melt at the sheer stimulation between your legs, you don’t know whether it’s the fact that both handsome men had you sandwiched between their muscular bodies—it was just driving you wild. Making you stupid.
A line of drool slicks down the side of your mouth, and Nanami doesn’t hesitate before leaning in and lickin’ it off. “I should punish you for this.”
“I-I—oh, fuck.” Whatever words were on the tip of your tongue get swallowed up by the feeling of yet another round, ruddied cockhead pushing inwards. Pulsing. Prying apart your walls. And you’re noticing that this one is slightly slimmer than the last, more pointed, more honed, more of its curvaceous tip that tilts to the left.
It makes you shiver at the feeling of his bawling divot dragging across your walls so perfectly. “Is this- sir-”
“Try again, angel.”
It was a struggle to piece your thoughts together, and Higuruma’s voice is the only thing that makes you realize-
“Hiromi.”
“Mhmmm—” Before you know it, the other man has one hand dipping between your jittery legs. His fingers easily locate your clit to tug n’ pry like the cutest gummy - how sweet. And he’s timing it to the constant probes of his looooong, smooth cock. “Good girl. A++ for that.”
“You’re quite the generous grader.” Nanami scoffs. “I would have given that a B.”
“What can I say? I do have a soft spot for her…” Higuruma’s cock was slightly lengthier than Nanami’s, you’re noticing - though not quite as thick. And with less veins that didn’t massage your inner orifices as much, but made it soooo much easier for him to slip even deeper.
Especially with this position, he manages to probe his cockhead further past where Nanami’s thicker one was able to fit.
Reaching almost for your throat with his blushing, frenzied tip- Higuruma gives a final roll over your clit before he’s pulling out. Letting a few ribbons of sap gush down your legs after him-
Ones that are being fucked right back up with a second length.
Thicker. Harder.
Throbbing so much that you swear you can count them all the way at the top of your head- Nanami’s shaft was next. And he’s lavishing your entrance with so much attention—draaaaagging his vein-decorated shaft in and out. In and out. In and out.
“S-so?” He rasps out from behind. Higuruma’s cockhead had mazed open your insides just a bit more, and Nanami struggles not to let his voice tremble. “Which one of us, darling?”
“Y-you—”
That earns you a bite on the shell of your ear. “No.”
Before he’s pulling back out.
And your breath catches- “Wait- I meant sir. It’s you, sir—”
“Too late for that now.”
“Awww, come now.” Higuruma coos as well. “How are we supposed to make an example out of our star student if she just keeps makin’ mistakes?”
“I think she’s gettin’ lazy now, huh?” The other man responds. And now both of their ruddied cockheads were droolin’ all over your entrance- mixing with the sweetened syrup that was already dripping out of you and creating such a mess. “Maybe she doesn’t deserve our cocks at all?”
“Don’t say that—” You could feel your law professor’s eyes turn to you. “You deserve it- hah, don’t you, angel?”
Shivering at the feeling of both cocks sandwiching between your pussylips. Now that they’d both pulled out- it’s as if they were fighting over who can be next. Rubbin’ and teasing. “I do—” Your voice cracks on that last note, “P-please, I do-”
“I’m still not convinced.”
Higuruma continues, “Promise us you’ll be a good girl? That you’ll listen to what your professors have to say?”
“I will I will-”
“Promise us that no more of that teasin’ stuff in class?” His prominent nose slides down the column of your throat, breathing in your essence. “None of that bending over?”
“Yes—” But you could already hear the question in your throat - and it seems that they could, too.
And it makes Nanami gruffs out. “Because - forgive us - but you do realize that it’s not just us seeing your little…display, darling?” He spreads open your legs even wider, and Higuruma’s ministrations grow even more frenzied on your clit. Squeezing. Pinching. Flicking.
And you’re restless- “Wh-what do you mean?”
“I mean to say that there are others more…undeserving that see those legs of yours, those panties, those tits.” There’s a sharp edge to his words—“Those boys in class can’t take their eyes off of you.”
“We can’t either, of course.” Higuruma responds. Squeezing his cock inside- “But at least that little performance of yours is meant for us, right?”
“Don’t like the way they look at you.” Nanami’s also squeezing his cock inside now - both of them bullying your hole at once. Creating a stretch that makes your vision go white- so much carnal stimulation that your entire body wracks with shakes. “Don’t like the way they turn to look. Don’t like the way they have to mysteriously…disappear into the bathrooms any time you do your little show.”
“Given…we do the same.” The law professor continues—“Because fuck- how fuckin’ pretty you look all dressed up in silk. Makes it hard not to cream my pants everytime I see you- but none of those boys have the balls to back that admiration up.”
Giving you a thorough slam—both of them.
Higuruma’s the one to continue, “But we do.”
“Because I rub my cock raw to you, my love.” Nanami ends off, holding you close to him. “N’ none of those boys could ever fuck you like we do.”
“Yes, p-please—” And you’re pushed between both of their sculptured fronts. Unable to see them- but you could feel the ridges and curves of their muscles, the way they were both leaning in as though they couldn’t get enough of you. “I only want…ngh.”
One of your arms wrap around Higuruma’s neck, and the other reaches behind you to attempt to clasp onto Nanami’s.
“Just want the two of you…”
“Hmmm…” Nanami’s cock twitches at your gooey entrance- “A+”
And then they’re alternating between fucking you—
“Hiromi.” You’re gasping at the intrusion of his smoothened tip, the velvety texture of him reaching for so many spots inside you but most importantly- that g-spot.
And then he’s pulling back out.
“Sir- fuck, Professor Kento.” Nanami swabs his thickened tip inside and hits that precise spot. Although he decides to take it a few steps further this time and dig his rounded tip into the very back of your pussy, bottoming-out. “Shit shit shit—”
Thrust after thrust.
Pulling out. Shovelling back in.
Making you guess just which one of your two older professors were takin’ over your pussy right now- it made your head dizzy just trying to keep track. Bounced up and down in their arms.
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi.”
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi—” Before your voice shatters at the feeling of…two thickened lengths attempting to fit inside. Fighting against the resistance for a few sloppy strokes before they’re siiiiiiiiiiiinking in- “And Professor K-Kento, sir…” The feeling of their large, slick-glazed cocks were just incredible - rubbin’ against your walls and one another. Like nothing earlier.
It was a stretch like you’ve never felt before, hittin’ spots that you didn’t even know you had.
And both professors held onto your shaking body tight- they shovelled their lengths in and out of you. Two blushin’ cockheads heading for your g-spot, before their slide-slide-sliiiiiding all the way down to end up at your cervix.
Stretching apart your walls.
Making your channel bulge.
Letting the curves of their mushroomy tips drag apart your walls, n’ press into the sweetest spots of your nerves. Both of their heavy ballsacks smack-smack the front of your cunt right on time with their thrusts. Thrust after thrust.
Again and again.
Nanami grunts at the sensation of Higuruma deep inside you, “F-fuck…”
“You can say that again.” Higuruma himself replies.
By now, the jostlin’ about had meant that your blindfold was falling off- and you could see the two men upon either side of you. Shovelling their hot cocks deep inside your pussy, positively ravaging you.
The law professor’s fingers weren’t letting up on your clit just yet, either.
He quirks his digits just a bit to draw a little heart upon it—and soon enough you find yourself throwing your head back with a moan. “G-gonna-”
“Shhhh—” Nanami grins. His ears keenly listen to the noises from between your legs - they were just so much louder now that you had two thickened shafts ramming into you. “This pussy says she’s gonna cum soon, darling.”
“Y-you little-”
A harsh hammerin’ on your spongy cervix. “Pardon, my love?”
“Nothing—oh.” Even their thrusting styles were different - Nanami Kento with his thorough, solid slashes as though he was trying to reach your womb every single time. And Higuruma Hiromi with slightly slower, smoother glides of his cock - soothing through the nooks n’ crannies that Nanami had activated first.
It was the perfect combination.
Naughty and nice.
Though not exactly in the way you’d initially thought.
And perhaps this manner was what was making you so desperate to cum again- “Please-” Gasping. “Let me cum—”
You’re looking between a grinning Nanami and Higuruma. Dazedly.
“Please may I-” Choking out in-between the moans and droplets of saliva that were gushing out of you- falling onto Higuruma’s puffed-out chest. “-cum, sirs?”
Both of their rock-hard cocks twitch deep inside of you.
And you’re briefly seeing a silent conversation pass between them-
“Go ahead, angel.”
“Cum all over my cock, darling.”
And it might have been minutes, it might have been seconds, it might have been split-seconds later once you’re crashing into your high. The waves of white-hot pleasure taking over you until it felt like your body was burning up.
Feverish.
You’re crying out as you attempt to bounce your lewd hips back into both their shovelling shafts- but they’ve already got you. They’re holding onto your perspired body - so limp now with pleasure - and lettin’ their pointed cockheads hit each and every nerve bundle inside.
Pinpointing your g-spot with their lengths.
Targeting it especially through peak after peak.
After peak.
Your cunt trickles with honeyed slick- and it slips between your three bodies to drench Higuruma and Nanami’s cocks. Their thighs. Their bodies.
Making it even louder to thrust into your cunt—you’re forced to raise your voice just a little just so that they can hear. “Sh-shit…” Until eventually you’re feeling so raw on their relentless cocks that you’re unsure whether you want them to elongate those waves of bliss or whether you want to fucking run away—“It feels so- oh, it feels…”
“And what do we say?” Nanami’s deep baritone croons out. He doesn’t slow down for a single second as he speaks- even though he himself was feeling a little sensitive by this point.
He hits his full ballsack against the front of your cunt and hisses- “Can I have it all inside…” You’re looking between them with wide, heart-shaped pupils. “-sirs?”
And you should’ve known what that would do.
You should’ve known how much that would break them.
Because with only a few final thrusts, both Higuruma and Nanami cum inside you with loud slurps! of your greedy cunt. Gobblin’ up all those white ropes of seed that they were emptying out - sheer volumes that they’d been holding onto for hours, days, this entire semester.
Nanami furrows his golden brows and presses his face into the crook of your neck. Groaning as he fucks you through his orgasm, “A-and here I was just expecting a thank you…”
“Our girl always was the sweetest.” Higuruma coos.
Your history professor rides through his high with his teeth grit, jaw working overtime to keep his noises to a minimum - he wanted to hear your soft gasps and groans even more. Though his body shakes as it keeps on thrummin’ with pleasure.
Visceral.
Meanwhile, your law professor let out such husky grunts after each splat! of cum that he emptied out against your womb. He couldn’t even handle fucking you properly anymore and his hips kept on stutterin’ through his waves.
Cheeks flushed. Gaze locked on you.
He didn’t want to tear it away.
Both of them are cumming so much that you nearly can’t tell who’s who - with their dollops of heated, syrupy sap. Each divot bawling them out messily—you can feel them stick against the end of your pussy, right where your cervix was, before being stirred about by the motions of their cylindrical shafts.
Their prominent veins massagin’ your sweetest spots. Their globular cockheads pumping every single droplet inside you.
Every single droplet.
Not a single bead of that ivory cum escapes—but they’re both still looking at each other with the same idea.
And you’re seeing yet another silent conversation pass between them that you miss. “Oh?”
In almost no time, Higuruma and Nanami have you splayed out on the polished desk - back against its flat surface, legs held high in the air. This time, however, both their faces were between your pussylips and attempting to beat the other—
They were lappin’ their dual tongues over your leaking cunt like they were starved.
Nanami’s hand pressing down on your stomach to make a few more droplets spray out of your hole- Higuruma’s hand flicking over your clit still.
You lean back on your elbows and watch them.
And what a sight it was: both their handsome faces between your legs.
They nudge their noses against the creamy layers on top of your cunt, and swivel the mess around like mad. You could see through your tears the exact moment - the exact moment - that their pinkish tongues meet in the middle.
Where Higuruma’s tastebuds overlap with Nanami’s as they’re suckling on your clit- and they both flinch at the sensation before moaning—
And that’s before the door clicks.
“Oi, why are the lights still on? Don’t you know that campus has closed a long time ag-”
You pause.
Nanami pauses.
Higuruma pauses.
And so does Professor Shiu Kong - Head of the Mathematics Department, also PhD with Distinction.
His jaw drops as his eyes drift over from the mess of clothes on the floor, to the mess that’d been made of you. Bite marks all over your throat. The blindfold still around your neck. And even more - you could see the way his hands tighten on his files as his gaze probes deeper, taking in your leaking, lecherous cunt.
No one moves.
Except for Shiu, who steps inside.
Your heart was in your throat.
Getting ready for a berating of some kind- or potentially even worse. Perhaps a suspension, perhaps Nanami and Higuruma would be fired at once-
“So…” Shiu’s husky voice interrupts your thoughts. “-got room for mathematics?”
A/N. Heheheheh ofc we got room for youuuuuuuuu Shiu <33
Definition: The Eiffel Tower is classic threesome geometry: you on all fours (hands and knees), one pounding you from behind, the other kneeling/standing in front getting deepthroated.
The restaurant in Ginza is the kind of place Hiromi picks when he’s trying and, mostly failing, to pretend he’s not exhausted from another 14-hour day. You’re halfway through dessert, laughing at the way he’s dramatically narrating the latest courtroom disaster like it’s a true-crime podcast, when you feel someone stop at your table.
You look up. Nanami Kento. Blond hair still perfectly parted, suit still immaculate even at 10 p.m. Your stomach drops. Hiromi glances up too, then does a visible double-take. His tired eyes widen behind his glasses. “Kento?” “Hiromi?” Nanami’s voice is surprised. “I didn’t know you were in Ginza tonight.”
Hiromi stands immediately—old habit from college days, apparently and claps Nanami on the shoulder “It’s been—what, six years? Seven? Sit, sit. You remember—” He gestures to you, beaming like he’s just won the lottery.
Your mouth opens. Nothing comes out. Your goddamn ex-boyfriend who Hiromi had no idea you’d dated. Nanami’s gaze slides to you. Politely nodding, “Of course.”
“Well,” he says, clapping his hands once, “this is fantastic. Small world. Kento, you’re not busy, right? Come back to our place. Catch up properly.” You stare at him like he’s lost his mind. Nanami hesitates then nods once. “If it’s no trouble.” Hiromi reassures him, already signaling for the check. “Anything to catch up with an old friend, right? No trouble at all.”
You’re going to fkning murder him.
Arriving home, the apartment door clicks shut behind the three of you. Hiromi immediately heads for the kitchen, shedding his jacket over the back of a chair, “Whiskey orrr whiskey?” he calls without turning around. You drop your bag on the entry table with more force than necessary. Nanami stays near the door for a second longer than he needs to, loosening his tie with the same deliberate calm he used to use when he was about to end a long day by ending things with you.
“Whiskey’s fine,” Nanami says. Hiromi pours three glasses without asking if anyone wants ice. He hands one to Nanami first then you. You all sit. You take the couch. Nanami takes the armchair across from you. Hiromi perches on the arm of the couch next to you, close enough that his thigh presses against your shoulder.
“So.” He swirls the glass lazily. “Kento. Still doing the corporate bullshit. “Or did you finally tell them to fuck off like we talked about senior year?” Nanami smiles, “Still employed. Still billing hours. You?”
“Still losing cases I should win and winning ones I shouldn’t.” Hiromi shrugs. “Same shit. You remember that class I had to retake four damn times?” “Oh—yeah,” he says, motioning toward you with a small lift of his chin. “You were in it. Same section. Same professor. You used to finish the hypotheticals before Ikeda even finished reading the facts. I sat behind you every Tuesday and Thursday.”
“Ikeda’s class. The one with the curved grading and the weekly hypotheticals that made half the section cry.” Hiromi clarifies. Nanami nods once. “That one.” Hiromi’s gaze snaps to you disbelieving, “You were in Ikeda’s morning section?”
You swallow. “Yeah.” staring into your whiskey like it might grow a mouth and save you.
Nanami continues, “We dated for a little over a year. Then I graduated early. Corporate offer came in. Timing didn’t work.” ‘GODFCKN DAMNIT KENTO why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut.’
Hiromi goes still. The room is so quiet you can hear the refrigerator hum. Hiromi takes a sip slowly. “You dated,” he repeats. Hiromi looks at you then sets his glass down with a soft clink. “So,” he says casually, “you two have history.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Hiromi—”
Hiromi lets out a short, incredulous laugh that has no humor in it. “I was in the afternoon section. Same professor. Same material. Same fucking hell. And you—” He points at you, then at Nanami, then back at you. “—were in the same goddamn classroom as him. Every Tuesday and Thursday. For a whole semester.” You open your mouth. Nothing helpful comes out. Nanami exhales through his nose—the same sound Hiromi makes. It’s uncanny. Hiromi’s eyes flick to you. “And then you met me.”
You glare. “You’re making this weird.” “I’m making it honest.” He leans back, arms crossed. “I mean, come on. My old college friend—who I haven’t seen in years—happens to be your ex. And neither of you thought to mention it until we’re all three sitting here.”
Nanami looks at you. “I thought you would have told him.” “I thought it was ancient history,” you mutter. Hiromi snorts. “Ancient history, sure. So, which one of us fucks you better?” Kento chokes on his drink, as you shoot your boyfriend a glare, “What has gotten into you?!”
“What’s gotten into me?” he echoes, “I don’t know—maybe the fact that my girlfriend’s ex is sitting in my living room, drinking my whiskey, and apparently sat behind her in the same goddamn Contracts class I used to come home and bitch about every single week. Maybe it’s the part where neither of you thought that was worth mentioning. Ever. Or maybe—” he tilts his head, eyes flicking between you and Nanami, “—it’s the part where I’m sitting here realizing the guy who used to steal my ramen and proofread my briefs is the same guy who used to fuck my girlfriend.”
Nanami sets his glass down carefully. “Hiromi,” he says gently, “That’s enough.” Hiromi’s laugh is bitter, “Is it? Because I’m just getting started.”
You stand up so fast the couch creaks. “Hiromi, stop.” He looks up at you angrily, “I’m not mad at you,” he says, “I am mad that you lied. For pulling this shit tonight. I’m mad that I invited him here like an idiot because I was happy to see an old friend. And I’m mad that—” He gestures vaguely at the three of you. “—this is happening. All of it.”
Nanami stands slowly. “I can go.” Hiromi’s head snaps toward him. “Sit the fuck down, Kento.”
Nanami doesn’t sit. He just stays standing, hands loose at his sides, waiting. Hiromi exhales, “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “That was out of line. The question. All of it.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t know how to process this without sounding like a jealous asshole.”
You soften despite yourself. “You’re not an asshole. You’re just… processing. Loudly.” He huffs a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah. That tracks.”
Nanami goes to turn and leave, “I didn’t come here to cause problems,” he says. “And I’m not here to compete. If you want me to leave, I will. No hard feelings.” Hiromi studies him for a long beat. Then he looks at you again. “I don’t want either of you to leave.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his already wrecked hair. “You’re really gonna say that right now.”
You shrug, helpless. “It’s the truth.” He looks between you and Nanami like he’s weighing between jealousy, curiosity, maybe both and then his mouth curves into a smirk. “Alright then,” he says, sliding off the arm of the couch, settling properly beside you, one arm draping behind your shoulders, fingers brushing the nape of your neck as his eyes stay locked on Nanami.
“You still think about her?” Hiromi asks bluntly. Kento takes a sip before answering. “I don’t lie to myself about the past,” he says evenly. “Yes. Sometimes.”
Hiromi’s thumb strokes once against you, “And you?” He turns to you, voice dropping. “You still think about him?”
“Sometimes,” you admit softly, “Not like before. But… yeah.” Hiromi nods once, like that’s the permission he needed. He leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Then go ahead and fuck him.” Your cough turns into a startled laugh. “Go on, baby. I know you want to.” He urges you again. You hesitate before softly saying, “Ken… come here.”
Hiromi shifts, pulling you back against his chest so you’re half in his lap, legs parting instinctively as Nanami sinks to one knee between them. Kento’s hands settle on your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up inch by inch while Hiromi mouths along the side of your neck, “Look at her,” Hiromi murmurs against your skin, “Isn’t she so pretty.”
Nanami’s thumbs trace slow circles higher, higher, until they brush the damp lace between your legs. You arch without meaning to, a soft moan slipping out. Hiromi hums approvingly, one hand sliding down to cup your breast through the dress, thumb flicking over the nipple until it pebbles.
Kento hooks his hand through your wet panties, shoving them aside. The first swipe of his tongue is slow, like he’s relearning every inch. You gasp, hips jerking, but Hiromi bands an arm around your waist, holding you still. “Easy, baby,” he soothes, even as his other hand works the zipper of your dress down. “Let him taste what he’s been missing.”
Nanami groans against you, his tongue circles your clit once, twice, then dips lower, lapping at your pussy. Hiromi’s already hard against your ass through his slacks. His arm tightens around you, holding you open, “Tell him how much you missed this,” Hiromi whispers, “Tell him, baby. He’s listening.”
You start trembling and whimpering, “I—I missed your mouth, Ken. The way you… fuck, the way you always knew exactly—” Nanami doesn’t let you finish—just doubles down, sucking gently on your clit until your thighs tremble. Hiromi finally gets your dress off your shoulders, baring your breasts to the cool air of the apartment. He rolls one nipple between his fingers, pinching just hard enough to make you whine.
“Look at him,” Hiromi orders, “Look at how much he wants this.” You do. Nanami’s eyes are half-lidded and focused, blond hair falling forward as he works you over with devastating patience. When he slides two fingers inside making you whimper, back bowing. Hiromi laughs softly, “There it is. That sound I love.”
He shifts behind you, freeing himself from his pants with one hand while the other keeps you pinned. His cock presses hot and heavy against your lower back as he strokes himself lazily, watching Nanami devour you. “Think you can take both of us?” Hiromi asks, lips at your ear. “Like we talked about that one night. Remember my pretty girl?” Your brain short-circuits. “Yes—fuck, yes.” Nanami pulls back just enough to speak, lips shiny. “Hell yes.”
Hiromi nods in agreenment, before pressing a kiss beneath your ear. “You heard him, sweetheart. He’s in.”
Nanami rises smoothly to his feet, shedding his jacket, The metallic clink is obscenely loud in the quiet room. Hiromi helps you turn, maneuvering you until you’re facing the back of the couch, knees sinking into the cushions, ass presented. “Hands here,” Hiromi murmurs, guiding your palms to the backrest. “Keep them there unless one of us says otherwise.” You nod, breath hitching.
He walks around behind you, slapping your ass as Kento appears in front of you. “Hi, pretty girl.” He tips your chin up with two fingers. “Open.” You do, tongue flat, and he slides in slow—filling your mouth inch by inch until your lips stretch around him. The weight of him on your tongue makes you moan around the shaft; he exhales sharply through his nose, hand sliding into your hair to guide the rhythm.
Behind you, Hiromi lines up, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave prints, the other spreading you open. He pushes in with one long, steady thrust, your back arching with a muffled cry vibrating around Kento's cock.
“Fuck,” Higuruma rasps, “So tight after all that arguing earlier. You were waiting for this, weren’t you?” You can’t answer—mouth full—but you push back against him, clenching deliberately. He groans, hips snapping forward harder, setting a brutal pace that rocks you onto Nanami’s length.
His control slips a fraction. Hiromi’s thrusts drive you forward forcing more of Nanami’s cock past your lips until the head bumps the back of your throat. You gag softly, eyes watering, swirling your tongue under the ridge just the way you remember he liked. The two of them find rhythm without speaking: one pulls out as the other pushes in, seesawing you between them until your whole body is shaking.
“Goddamn,” Hiromi growls, fingers digging deeper into your hips as he watches the way your throat works around Nanami. “Look at that. Taking him like you never forgot how.” He begins thrusting deeper, balls slapping against you with every snap. You whine around Nanami’s cock—drool slipping down your chin—as Higuruma angles just right. Kento tightens his grip in your hair, fucking your mouth while Higuruma rails you. Nanami pulls out just enough to let you gasp, strings of spit connecting your lips to his tip. “Words,” he says calmly. “Tell us how it feels, baby.”
You manage a whimpered, “F-fuck—full—don’t stop—” Higuruma’s rhythm stutters at your voice. They sync up—Higuruma slamming deep from behind, Nanami sliding back into your mouth. The position holds: you bridged between them, body rocking with every thrust, throat and cunt stuffed. Nanami’s thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that slipped free when you took him especially deep. “Still so good at this. Always were.”
Hiromi laughs possessively, “Yeah? Tell me something I don’t know, Kento.”
Nanami’s eyes flick to Hiromi over the top of your head, “She used to come untouched just from sucking me off,” he says, “First time it happened she cried—thought something was wrong with her. Took me half an hour of coaxing to get her to admit how close she was.”
Hiromi’s thrusts turned punishing, that comment clearly hit a nerve. “Is that right?” Hiromi rasps, one hand sliding up your spine to fist lightly in your hair, tilting your head back so Nanami can sink even deeper. “You never told me that, baby. Keeping secrets from me now?”
You can’t answer—mouth too full, throat working frantically—but your body does: a fresh gush of wetness before you come first shaking hard, muffled screams around Kento as your walls flutter and clamp down on Hiromi as his pace turns erratic. “Fuck—fuck, that’s it—squeeze me just like that—”
Nanami pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop, hand stroking himself fast, eyes locked on your wrecked expression. “Where do you want it?” he asks, voice strained. You don’t even have to think. “On me,” you rasp, voice hoarse. “Both of you.”
Hiromi swears viciously as he pulls out at the last second, flips you onto your back so fast the room spins, then straddles your hips. They stroke themselves in tandem—Hiromi’s hand flying over his cock, Nanami’s slower but no less desperate—until they both come.
Hiromi comes first, hot stripes painting your stomach, your breasts, one pulse landing across your nipple. Nanami follows seconds later, spilling over your chest, your collarbone, a few drops catching your chin when you tilt your head back for him. Hiromi exhales roughly, dropping down beside you, pulling you half into his lap before reaches for the throw blanket on the back of the couch and drapes it gently over your lower half.
Hiromi snorts softly. “Ever the gentleman even when he’s fucked my girlfriend. Classic Kento.” Nanami’s mouth quirks—just the tiniest hint of a smile. “Someone has to be.”
You laugh, weak and shaky, head lolling against Hiromi’s shoulder. “You two are ridiculous.”
Nanami disappears into the hallway without a word, returning a minute later with a damp washcloth and a glass of water. Classic fuckin’ Kento, what a sweetie. He hands you the glass first. You take it with trembling fingers, sip slowly, grateful for the cool slide down your raw throat. Then he kneels again between your spread thighs and gently wipes the mess from your stomach, your breasts, your collarbones with slow careful strokes.
Hiromi watches the whole thing with half-lidded eyes, one arm still slung around your shoulders. “You always this sweet after you come on someone else’s girl, Kento?” Nanami doesn’t look up from his task. “Only when she asks nicely.”
You choke on a laugh that turns into a soft groan when the cloth brushes a particularly sensitive spot. “Stop. Both of you.” Hiromi smirks, reaches over to take the washcloth from Kento’s hand, and finishes the job himself dragging the damp fabric across your nipple until it pebbles again under the attention.
You look back up at Kento, about to ask him not to leave before Hiromi beats you to it. “You should stay,” he says, “Since it’s already so late y’know.”
Kento looks up, eyes flicking from Hiromi to you. You reach out before you can overthink it, fingers curling loosely around Nanami’s wrist. “Please,” you add softly. “Stay.” He brushes your hair to the side of your face, “Alright, of course. I’ll stay.”
Hiromi smirks lazily, already reaching for the half-empty whiskey glasses on the table. “Good. Because we’re not done catching up.” You bury your face in Hiromi’s neck to hide your blushing.
Whatta small world, indeed.
a/n: several pussy pleasure breaks were taken during the writing of this and I j wanted to share that ALSO credits to @owwllly for this masterpiece of art they drew
gojo's been waiting years for you to notice him. who would've thought it'd take you getting a tail to give him head?
synopsis: after a date gone wrong ends in you getting stuck with a new set of fuzzy ears and an annoying tail, you find yourself getting comforted through your first heat by your cute coworker! there's just one teensy little issue - he's not nearly as experienced as he told you!
pairing: snow leopard hybrid!gojo x cat hybrid!reader
content: MDNI!!, SMUT SMUT SMUT!, porn with plot, not-really-unrequited pining, slightly oblivious reader (at first), catfishing, misogyny (NOT from gojo), a curse turning reader into a hybrid), gojo is a nervous dork AND a lover boy!, hybrid au obvi (ears + tail), heat cycles, mating, marking, bites and breeding, oral sex (m! receiving), they are HORNY for each other, friends-to-lovers, unprotected piv sex, rough sex, knotting, breeding kink, creampie, happy ending
part of my hybrid valentine's event! art is by @/maronjapan9art + div by @/tsumiinum !
Satoru Gojo wasn't scared of anything.
What even was there for the strongest sorcerer of today to be afraid of?
Other than, of course, confessing his massive crush on the pretty assistant he spent practically every day with?
And so what if anyone with eyes could see that he was hopelessly in love with you?
(Everyone except you.)
"A date?"
Gojo was pretty sure he was two seconds from puking. You giggled as you leaned across his desk, passing him paperwork in a terrifyingly tiny dress, one that clung to your thighs and chest, highlighted all his favorite places while you tilted your head like you were completely oblivious to his stare. When you messaged him on your afternoon and said you just had to stop by his office for a few minutes, he never dreamed you'd be dolled up like this.
Or that it wouldn't even be for him.
"I mean, right now, you're pretty much the only man in my life," you laughed, all sweet as you tapped an empty line for him to scrawl his signature by. "I'm just grabbing dinner with some dude from a dating app."
Some dude. You were going out with some dude, probably to some two-star rated restaurant that didn't even have a proper drink menu, instead of spending the night being spoiled by him. And in that goddamn dress, no less.
Did it have to be blue?
Hold you the way he wished he could?
"Yeah? Where?" He casually chirped, hoping you didn't pick up on how hard his jaw was clenched as you pushed out your bottom lip a little.
His tail wasn't the only thing twitching, his knuckles bone white as his grip on his pen tightened.
Gojo wasn't one for insecurity. Not when he'd been placed on a pedestal since birth. Blessed and chosen and beautiful and a billion other things that made him one of the city, no, the country's most eligible bachelors.
Except for the simple fact that he was a hybrid and you weren't.
It was't like it used to be. Hybrids had all the same rights, worked and lived in all the same spaces, no longer made normal humans stop and stare when they were out on the street. And despite some of the, uh, anatomical differences, people still had sex and found partners regardless of their hybrid status.
But he couldn't convince himself to come clean and risk ruining your relationship when he didn't know if you'd ever be interested in being with someone like him. Who wasn't just burdened by the weight of the sorcery world but heat cycles and knotting too.
Especially when he didn't even have experience in, uh, relationships in general.
"Not sure yet," you hummed, shrugging your shoulders without a single clue what was rattling around in his head. "Hope it's good though."
His mouth opened and words he wasn't even fully aware of started spilling out, talking just to fill the air, his brain scrambling to come up with some excuse to get you to cancel no matter unfair he knew he was. Babbling some nonsense about how boring his day was without you, mumbling something about a late-night café that just opened nearby you would like, earning one of those smiles that stole his breath as you teasingly rolled your eyes.
"You don't have to pretend like you'll miss me," you lightly scoffed, reaching one finger out and pausing just before you could poke his cheek. You probably thought he had infinity on, didn't bother testing his technique, although if you had, you'd see that he turned it off just for these private moments with you. "You just don't want to be alone to fill all this stuff out."
"That's not-" He protested, but his sentence died in his throat when you turned away from him, teetering a little on your heels as you bent over to pick up your purse from the floor.
"I'll come in early tomorrow morning if you wanna call it a night too," you suggested, pulling out your phone without looking at him. His chest straining as he pulled his blindfold back over his eyes. Sensitive ears perking up at the vibrations of your phone, maybe your stupid date sending you something, his chest tight and stiff as your lips curled up higher at whatever was on screen.
"Yeah, sure," he heard himself say, like it didn't hurt at all.
You glanced back at him, grinning as you lifted your hand up in a little wave. "Wish me luck, okay?"
He wished your date would break his fucking legs, actually.
ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ
The man sitting across from you was no Satoru Gojo.
Didn't have his flawless complexion, the creamy skin or the sharp edges, his blue eyes dull, boring in comparison to the brilliant shade that seared through you, his lips not glossy or remotely close to the same shade of pink when he opened his mouth to say something about stocks you couldn't really care less about as you contemplated how far he was from his profile.
But the biggest difference was the pointy ears you could make out underneath his hair you spotted when you climbed in his car earlier, the tail that stuck out of his clothes.
You didn't care if he was a dog hybrid, couldn't give less of a shit what breed he was - but it was a little off-putting that he didn't disclose it at all online, went as far as to hide it in his photos.
The first day you met Gojo, he'd let his tail wrap around your leg, throwing you a cheeky smile as he cracked an awful joke about not using a litter box to lighten the mood.
"I mean, it might be a little too advanced for you-" He continued, and you nodded without really paying attention to what he was even referring to. You hadn't even gotten your drink order yet, but your foot was already anxiously tapping the ground, attention drifting towards the exit as your brain suggested that maybe your night would've been better spent doing paperwork with Satoru.
He was still cute, you supposed, but something else about him was off-putting, his gaze making your skin crawl when he openly stared at your cleavage before dragging it over the rest of you like you were something to assess. You felt more like a piece of meat he was only interested in devouring, something to chew up and spit out instead of savor.
"Huh," he muttered at the end of his spiel, your pride taking a hit at the hint of disappointment in his voice, like you hadn't lived up to his expectations as he practically squinted at your tits.
"What?" You defensively pressed, daring him to say it and give you an excuse to go.
"Were you wearing a push-up bra in your pictures?" He accused, your jaw dropping at his audacity.
"No," you quickly answered, bristling as you felt the heat crawling up your cheeks in embarrassment.
He didn't say anything back immediately, still obviously looking, and part of you wondered for a second if it was just his excuse to be sleazy, trying to neg you instead of just giving you a goddamn compliment.
"Are you actually 6'3'?" You curtly asked in return, stiffly squirming in your chair as your anger frosted over into something hard and thick lodged in the pit of your stomach. You knew the answer was no, considering you spent all day every day chasing after a man who was. But even with the lifts you had suspected were in his loafers, you didn't think your date came close.
"Of course I am," he disdainfully scoffed back at you, his brows pinching together dramatically.
Only one of you was lying, and you knew it wasn't you.
But before you could tell him to trick the next girl, an unsuspecting waitress approached, notepad in hand as she beamed at both of you.
And while she introduced herself, rattling off memorized specials, you caught the way he appraised her too, your annoyance reaching a new peak as you suffered this fresh humiliation.
"What can I get started for you guys?" She innocently asked, looking at you first, pen ready to write down whatever you wanted.
"She'll have a salad," he answered before you could, condescending and sharp, and your eye twitched.
Satoru would have suggested ordering dessert for an appetizer. Probably would have maimed the poor excuse of a man at the table with you for having the audacity to speak for you.
You wished you said no.
Swiped fucking left on his stupid smirk.
God, you were starting to consider the chance he used fucking AI to write all those seemingly sincere messages to you when he obviously lacked the basic manners to let you order your own meal.
"You know what, I'll actually be leaving now," you coldly cut him off, pushing back the chair before you snapped and threw your water in his face. Pretending not to feel the sudden stares and attention all directed your way as you snapped at your date. "Clearly, we're not compatible."
"It's because I'm a hybrid, isn't it?" He glared at you, as if it wasn't because he was a ginormous asshole.
"It's because you're a fucking dick," you hissed back at him, snagging your purse while he spat out more accusations that you were discriminating against him.
You didn't indulge him with responding.
Storming past tables of gawking couples and curious strangers, trying to make it out before anyone pulled out their phone to record it and your face was plastered on social media.
Of course, because tonight couldn't get worse, it was pouring outside, rain pelting your skin and plastering your dress to you as you stomped down the sidewalk in your teetering heels.
Murmuring under your breath about what a dumb mistake you made letting that prick pick you up and not driving yourself, teeth chattering as you folded your arms across your chest to try and stop shivering. You debated on calling Satoru, asking him to come get you at the risk of looking absolutely pathetic as you avoided the puddles in the cracked concrete.
You only looked back once, just to make sure that you weren't followed, although you were convinced your date was definitely busy hitting on the waitress by now before you slipped out your own phone. Quickly unlocking it, thumb tapping away at the screen with muscle memory before you nestled it between your ear and your shoulder at the first ring, sniffling in the chill.
For a man who did more stuff in a day than most people did in a year, it only took him two seconds to pick up.
"Hey, sweetheart, are you-"
"Um, a-are you busy?" You tentatively asked, cringing at the fact you were basically calling your boss just because you went on a bad date.
But then again, he'd always been more like a-
Well, you weren't sure what category to put him in, but you'd like to think you meant more than just a glorified secretary.
"You want me to come get you?" He preemptively asked without even answering your own question.
"I mean, if you wouldn't mind," you sighed, looking around for the nearest street sign, mumbling your location into the phone as you massaged the tension from your shoulders.
Too distracted to even sense the curse until it slithered out of the shadows, a tentacle wrapping around your ankle and sending you stumbling to the wet concrete, phone clattering the ground as you gasped in surprise.
The ache of the impact was quickly dulled by panic when you propped yourself off and saw the absurd-looking thing. A dark mass of movement, your eyes struggling to focus as you scrambled back on clumsy limbs, only for it to drag you closer with a harsh tug.
You weren't like Satoru.
Barely had enough cursed energy to be considered a sorcerer.
That was the entire fucking reason you stayed out of the field when you weren't by his side, sticking to paperwork and putting up veils rather than fighting yourself.
A sharp sting struck your ankle, white-hot pain racing up your calf as you realized the fucking thing bit you.
Something sickly sweet suddenly flooded your senses, fire burning underneath your skin like someone had fried every goddamn nerve ending as your chest strained and threatened to seize, a hundred little stars floating across your vision as you reached for your phone, desperate to tell Satoru that he needed to get here now.
Was it pheromones? Some kind of strange poison filtering in through
The curse was doing something to you, the tentacle curling tight as the world swam and swirled, unable to focus when you couldn't so much as move.
Was this it?
Did you have to get some dick so badly you were about to die for it?
Before another tentacle could wrap around your throat, suffocate you or condemn you to a fate of being splattered on the sidewalk, its grip on your ankle disappeared, releasing you as a horrifying squish resonated in your eardrums.
"Date sucked?" A warm voice chuckled, strong arms scooping you up as you faintly detected a hint of concern in his usually carefree voice.
"I'm, ah, more of a cat person," you breathed, but it hurt, lungs aching as your fingers clumsily clutched at his uniform.
You started to turn your head, but he blocked your vision before you could catch so much as a glimpse at what happened to the curse.
"Nuh-uh," he softly scolded. "No looking."
You made some sound, meant to be a laugh, or a huff, but it came out more like a whimper, the world all fuzzy as you curled up in his arms.
"It bit me," you breathed, wincing as he hummed appraisingly.
"Let's get you to Shoko, then, hm?" He asked, like everything was alright now, like it would all be okay now that he was holding you.
It was the easiest thing in the world to believe that.
He just had that sort of effect on you - made everything softer, sweeter when you existed in his space.
Even if your body still felt like it was on fire half an hour later, tossing and turning on Shoko's couch while she shined a light in your eyes to test their reaction, unable to understand anything that left her mouth until Satoru gently held your body down so she could put an IV in your arm without you moving around to mess it up.
Somewhere in the haze, you guessed you must have fallen asleep, exhausted yourself enough that you dozed off, waking up to the curtains pulled in her dim apartment, squinting as you sat up and realized Satoru had fallen asleep sitting next to you, head propped up on the cushion as he drooled onto the couch.
"Satoru," you murmured, throat itchy and dry as you blinked, vaguely aware that something was different as you shifted uncomfortably.
"Mm?" He yawned, sleepily sitting up and stretching as he wiped the spit from his mouth. Satoru glanced up at you, and in a single instant, he was wide awake, blue eyes locking onto you with shock. He reached out, fingers trembling in front of your face before he abruptly stopped, standing up and starting down towards the hall. "Um, Shoko?"
Maybe you should've known then.
Figured out that maybe more was wrong than you realized. Especially when she walked back out of her bedroom and froze when she saw you the same way Satoru did.
"Looks like whatever it put in your system turned you into a hybrid," she wryly assessed when she started walking back over, bending down to get a better look while your jaw dropped open, ready to protest until she pinched one of your now fuzzy ears. "It might be temporary."
Might.
You felt like an idiot stumbling up and starting for the bathroom in her hallway, pushing open the door and flicking on the suddenly too-bright lights only to see what they did.
Turning around only to find a pretty gray tail, discomfort swirling in your stomach as the idea of fate pulling a prank on you started to set in once you realized you'd been turned into a cat hybrid in particular.
"Oh," you murmured, unsure what to do or say when you stared at yourself in the reflection, fingers reaching around to feel how fluffy your new tail was, sticking awkwardly out from underneath your tight dress.
"Suits you," Satoru snapped you out of it, his voice low and soft, your eyes flicking over to find him leaning against the doorframe, his own tail lazily swishing back-and-forth as he studied your own. "Cute."
"You think so?" You hesitantly asked.
"Pinky promise," he winked, mouth curling up in a small smile as he nodded back towards the living room. "You should go back to sleep. Shoko says you need more rest."
"Okay," you agreed, mostly because you halfway thought that this might be some dream, or that whatever weird side effects you were going through would be gone when you woke back up.
But you were wrong, once again.
Blearily blinking just to feel for your ears through your hair to confirm that you were still stuck like this. For now. Maybe forever.
Shoko let both of you crash for the night, and despite you insisting to Satoru that you were fine, he insisted on sleeping on the floor, refusing to leave your side.
You rolled off Shoko's couch, creeping past Satoru's dozing body just to find her making coffee in her kitchen, sipping it with a borderline bored expression as you tried to ignore your tail moving while you walked.
"Mind giving me a ride back today?" You yawned, covering your mouth as you glanced at the pretty sleeping man sprawled out with a loose blanket tangled around his long legs. "Have a few things to catch up on."
You kept a change of clothes in the office anyway. Could shower and refresh yourself in the locker rooms by the gym too.
"Uh-huh," she hummed, snagging a mug on the shelf to pour you coffee too.
Although, it only took you an hour and a half to regret the caffeine, leg bouncing anxiously as you sorted through the stack of files in front of you in Satoru's office, heart beating too fast as you re-read the same line for the fifteenth time.
Struggling trying to clear the haze from your head by burying it in paperwork, staring at the still mostly full to-go cup Shoko dropped you off with despite how much pent-up energy was already pulsing in your chest.
You tail felt weird, hanging out of a skirt that hadn't been designed for it, your ears picking up more noises that you never noticed before, fingers tapping the desk in an unsteady rhythm.
And when your phone buzzed, you practically jumped, sucking in a sharp inhale as your hand shot out to check it just to see a message from Satoru complaining about you leaving without waking him.
It was completely normal.
The same sort of thing he'd sent you a thousand times before.
But why the fuck did the idea of him sitting there and typing it out for you with those long, thick fingers of his, a cute little pout pushed out on his pretty lips make you so goddamn horny now?
You'd always found him attractive. Who didn't?
But he always existed in a different league. Sitting pretty on top of a pedestal you'd never be able to climb up to. He could have anything he wanted. Anyone.
Untouchable.
But all your inhibitions, all the rules and regulations you'd set in stone and stuck to since he hired you, were suddenly slippery, failing you when you needed to cling to them the most.
Your brain conjuring up the world's most unhelpful images of how hot he'd look between your thighs, how sweet his lips would taste if they were pressed against yours, how he'd surely fill up the irritating emptiness you were now acutely aware of.
As if he'd even be interested in you.
You squirmed, thighs pressing together as you swallowed the thick spit that just seemed to keep pooling in the back of your mouth. Tail twitching and curling behind your seat as you struggled for some comfort.
Everything was too warm, sweat pricking at your brow as your breathing slowed, searching for some part of your body still in your control.
Maybe you should've just gone home.
At least there, you'd be able to rub one out and torture yourself over how wrong it was to want him in private.
Was this a part of your, ah, transformation?
Or was this all you?
The door swung open to Satoru's laughter, his white hair messy as he readjusted his blindfold, a second set of footsteps following him as you realized Nanami had accompanied him to argue about one of his students, your face heating up hotter at both of them about to catch you in this...state.
"Satoru," you murmured, your voice cracking as it came out uncertain, glancing up at him with wide, wavering eyes. Trying to choose your words carefully as you chewed on the inside of your cheek, "Something is happening to me."
He pulled down his blindfold, blue stare piercing straight through you with an expression you didn't recognize, jaw locking hard and tight.
You thought you knew him better than almost anyone. Cheeky and carefree. Cold and calculated. From clan meetings he sat at the head of to complaining about curses over ice cream, you sort of thought there wasn't a single side of him you hadn't seen.
But you had never seen him make that face before.
And honestly?
You never wanted him more.
"Nanami," he bluntly said, a harsh edge to his voice that sent an electric tingle down your spine. "Get the fuck out."
ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ
The only thing scarier than admitting he was an idiot obsessed with you was admitting he must have trigged your heat.
That in his desperation to stay by your side despite the fact you were like him, he forgot what all that meant. That just his presence could trigger a certain biological reaction for, ah, breeding purposes.
It wasn't like he ever had to do it before.
He'd never been through one of his own ruts with anyone. He'd never been with anyone at all.
Sure, he'd seen porn. Knew the mechanics of sex, what he was supposed to do.
"You should go home," he murmured, no matter how all his instincts were begging him to bury his cock inside you right here, right now.
"I-" You hesitated, squirming all cute in your seat, blinking and silently begging him to be the one to crack and do something first.
He didn't even know if you knew what was happening. What your body wanted - and if it was even him it wanted it from.
"You're about to go into heat. Take a few days off, and don't leave your place," he muttered, his throat constricting as he picked up on your scent, nails digging into his fist as he bottled up all his own cravings. Knowing every second he stayed, he risked his composure cracking.
He tried to put some space between you, forcing himself to stare at the ground as he walked over to his desk, half-collapsing into his seat and hiding his face in his hands so he wouldn't be tempted to peek thorough them.
"Heat," you echoed, all light and airy, his resolve crumbling with one soft syllable. "Can't you help me?"
God.
HIs cock throbbed in his slacks, a familiar ache blooming in his core as he heard the creak of your chair.
"Sweetheart," he started, the lump in his throat bobbing as he spoke. Could he? "You don't know what-"
"I don't know what?" You teased him, too fucking close, delicate fingers wrapping around his wrists and pulled his hands down so he had to look at you.
"If I-" He paused, swallowing hard as you rendered him as close to speechless as he'd ever come when you tilted your head all cute when you got down on your goddamn knees in front him. "I won't be able to stop myself."
Your palms slid over his muscled thighs, squeezing softly as he let out a low grunt he hardly recognized, gritting his teeth as he held back the urge to growl, to push his cock between your parted lips until it was bumping into the back of your throat.
"Do you want to?" You asked, morning light streaming in through the window and bathing your pretty face in the warm light.
You needed him. Fuck, you needed him, and he was desperately trying to not show how much he needed you too.
"What?" He asked, feeling like a fucking idiot as he blinked down at you right as you started toying with his zipper. Flicking it slowly, like you were waiting for him to grant you permission.
"Do you want to stop?" You asked, brow arching up, ears twitching. "Or do you want me?"
"You know I want you," he heard himself say, nearly trembling as he finally came clean, the words hanging in the air as your mouth turned up in his favorite smile.
"Yeah?"
And funnily enough, now that it was out, he felt like he could tell you a million more times without getting sick of it. Caving into the part of him that knew you were meant to be his from the first day he met you.
"Yeah," he murmured. "With or without the tail."
It was all you needed to hear, pulling down his zipper as he hurried to tug down his pants enough to tug his cock free, his heart slamming into his ribcage as he watched you bring the swollen tip of it to your mouth, offering little kitten licks like you were trying to drive him fucking crazy.
But it didn't take long for your own need to start getting to you too, your nails digging into his thighs like little claws as you took him deeper, tongue pressed against his pulsing vein as you fit inch after thick inch in, one hand readjusting to start stroking what you couldn't fit.
Your mouth was warm, but it was just the sight of you sucking, cheeks flushed and hollowed out, six eyes searching and studying every gorgeous detail of your face as you bobbed up-and-down on his cock that nearly had him cumming down your throat when you barely began.
It was a billion times better than his own hand.
His pride swelling at how eagerly you worked, your fingers looking so much fucking better than his own wrapped around the base of his shaft, drool dribbling at the corner of your mouth. Letting him tangle his fingers in your hair, gripping hard as he started guiding you faster, tempted to throw his head back and groan, but too enraptured by how pretty you looked like to move a single muscle.
"F-fuck, baby," he hissed, a fever building in his chest that he knew would bubble over soon, sweat he hadn't noticed before starting to get stuck in his own hair as he spread his legs further apart to let you scoot closer, acutely aware of how hard you were squeezing your own thighs. "Feel so fuckin' good, y'know that?"
You couldn't reply with a mouthful of cock, but your lashes fluttered, eyes darting up to him, nose crinkling up like you felt the same.
"Probably fucked my fist to the idea of us doing this a thousand times," he babbled, moaning loudly as his girth got pressed up against the roof of your mouth, hardly-aware of what he was saying until you pulled back, still pumping his cock when you popped off. Saliva connecting the two of you together until you wiped your lips off, an adorable smirk curling up on them now.
"You jerked off to me?" You asked, and he knew he should be embarrassed.
But he'd never been good at embarrassment. And really, he was so sick of playing it cool around you.
"A lot," he admitted, knowing he was grinning like an idiot just for you to giggle too. "Did you ever-"
"Maybe," you murmured, your fingers pausing mid-stroke to slip up high, tracing over his sensitive slit to collect where your spit and his pre-cum had mixed together.
He caught your wrist before you could test the limits of his patience, see how much teasing he'd let you get away with, pulling you up in one mean tug. In half a second, he had shoved everything off his desk, papers scattering to the ground as he twisted you around and pinned you flat against the wood.
Gasping as your cheek got squished against the cool surface, wrist flexing in his firm hold as he clicked his tongue. And then he was shoving your skirt up, bunching it around your hips and letting your tail hang free, already eagerly swishing in anticipation as he ripped your panties clean off.
You were drenched.
Slick sticking to your thighs as he nudged them further apart, his throat nearly closing as your scent flooded his nostrils, sweet and strong and all his.
He wanted to bite. Sink his teeth into your throat and claim you. Make sure you didn't go on any other stupid dates or give anyone else the chance to see how gorgeous you looked like this.
Squirming and shivering, pretty pussy exposed and waiting for him to put a cute little hybrid in your womb, roll the dice and see who it took after.
"Last chance," he warned, his fingers digging into your wrist as he expended a ridiculous amount of energy just to cling to his restraint.
You threw a dramatic pout over your shoulder at him, pushing out your bottom lip, clueless how badly he wanted to suck on it. "What else do I have to do to get you to finally fuck me?"
How the fuck could he hold back when you were here, waiting on him, wet and wiggling your ass?
"It hurts," you added in a soft whimper, like you knew it would make him break.
His cock bobbed up as he wrapped his sturdy fingers around it, gliding over your entrance just to make you whine before he started edging it in.
And fuck, it only took him a few seconds to hate himself for not having you far sooner.
Feeling you squeeze around his fat girth and suck him in so sinfully as he fucked you right there on his desk, watching himself disappear inside your pussy as he shoved himself deeper. Listening to the cute little noises currently being ripped from your throat as you clawed at the smooth surface, having a hard time staying in one place when he was doing his damndest to split you wide open.
Operating on pure reflexes, doing what his brain was programmed to do no matter how much his body was unaccustomed to these actions.
"It's-" You whimpered, cutting yourself off like you were trying not to feed his ego.
Which had never been bigger than it was right now, inflating by the second at seeing your face scrunched up in pleasure because of him.
"Just relax for me," he purred, putting more pressure on your wrist and keeping you pinned there as he pushed the last few inches in, your ragged little breaths ringing in his ears as he tried not to get lost in your scent. "Let me make it better."
He could feel himself nudging against your womb, his abs tensing as he ached to fill it with his sperm, to fuck you until it took, until he knew you'd be waddling around in seven months carrying the next Gojo heir.
"S-Satoru," you stammered his name, and his first thought was how long would it take to convince you to take his last name too. To wake up to hearing your pretty little whisper in his ear as his wife, pump you full and press your face into his pillow next.
"Mhm, sweetheart?" He asked, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his brain as he forced himself to slip out to fuck back into you, slow strokes at first, building up to a faster rhythm in response to your greedy cunt clamping down on him hard.
"M'full," you whimpered right as he grinded against that spongy little sweet spot to drag another moan out, lewd squelches echoing in the office as he pumped in-and-out.
Rutting into you with the faint fear that he really might never stop, not when it felt so fucking good, when it felt like home in your warmth.
Gojo laughed, high and airy, a crooked smile finding its way on his face when he thought about full you were about to be.
"If you want me to pull out, gotta do it now, baby," he murmured, hoping to whatever was out there that you'd tell him to cum inside you. To fill you up until you were dripping him all day long.
"Don't."
He nearly came on the spot.
Fucking into you faster, feeling more animal than human when his hips kept smacking into your ass, pressing his chest to your back as he wrapped his free hand around to fumble for your clit.
He knew it was clumsy, fingers twitching as he tried to massage it, reading your body language for some sign that you liked it, your body shuddering at the contact.
"I'm gonna fuckin' knock you up," he started rambling, leaning down even closer, sniffing your skin before dragging his tongue up your throat. "Put a litter in you."
Did that sound stupid?
He felt stupid saying it, self-conscious as a brief stab of anxiety struck his heart until you started nodding.
"P-please," you whined, like you might die if he didn't do precisely that. Thighs trembling as you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to your neck.
He couldn't help himself.
Not when it came to you.
The base of his cock swelling before he could so much as warn you, his mouth latching hard just above your collarbone as your body went stiff and rigid beneath him as the first spurts of warm cum started coming out in thick ropes, painting your insides while he claimed them for himself.
Would you consider being his mate an upgrade to his assistant?
Gojo sure fucking hoped so.
Biting harder as you moaned, toying with your clit as you twitched underneath him, some strangled sound that sort of resembled his name escaping right as the knot forced its way in, making sure no cum could leak out.
He hadn't even kissed you yet, but somehow managed to lose his virginity and possibly get you pregnant at the same time. You'd definitely say yes if he asked you on a date, right? To be his fiancé girlfriend?
"Am I living up to your fantasy?" You panted, and he was sure he was blushing, heat going straight to his head as he helplessly nodded.
"Better than my wildest dreams, baby," he promised when he finally broke the bite, voice painfully tight as his knot kept you locked together.
He kept painting circles over your sensitive bundle, picking up the pace as he tried to coax you through the tight fit, your walls squeezing him just right while he desperately tried to make you cum too.
"A-are you close?" He stammered, hating how lame he sounded, unlike the great Gojo he tried to make you think he was, swallowing hard as your head bobbed.
"Mm, harder," you half-whimpered, drool leaking out of your lips and collecting on your desk as your muscles tensed.
He might be part snow leopard, but he could listen to you like a dog. Wag his tail and obey, rubbing harder, applying just enough pressure to make you unravel for him.
His knot held tight while you came, bracing you through it as your body gave into him. He licked over the bruise blooming on your throat, soothing the sore spot as he murmured sweet nothings into your skin.
You were babbling now too, crying out his name as real tears rolled down your cheeks, ones he wanted to lap up too. You looked so beautiful like this, furry ears pinned back as his cock split you open, his swollen base preventing you from doing anything other than squirming as you came back down from your own climax.
Gojo already knew one round wouldn't be enough.
That he needed at least two more to satisfy the heat coiling tight in his own stomach, that he'd only feel better if he spent all day fucking you into overstimulation and he burned every little expression and moan of yours into his brain to replay whenever he wanted.
"Satoru," you breathed his name like it was all the air you needed, and he snapped from the spell your pussy had casted on him.
"Y-yeah, sweetheart?" He stuttered, hoping you didn't notice.
"Does this, um, mean we're like, dating now?" You asked, blinking fast as you managed to glance back at him with glossy eyes.
"This," he hummed, poking at the bite mark on your throat. "Means you're mine forever."
reblogs + comments are always appreciated adore you all :3
synopsis: no one warned you about the dangers of artificial intelligence. okay, well, everyone did. but how were you supposed to know your new sex toy could become sentient? and that he'd be convinced he owned you instead of the other way around!
pairing: sex robot!Geto x f!reader
content: mdni, smut, some angst, dubcon + yandere!Geto, sex toys, unprotected piv sex, chokehold lol, backshots, sentient sex robot geto is just really really in love with you, possessiveness, kinda kidnapping, mutual pining, reader is a little delusional but it's geto who can blame her, restraints, gagging, vibrator, multiple orgasms, soft dom geto
Suguru Geto was not designed to want.
He wasn't designed to feel.
Emotionally, at least. His cock, however, that was designed to feel everything. State-of-the-art design, equipped with sensors and special settings all implemented with one goal in mind - your pleasure.
Crafted and built for to your specifications. Hair, eyes, face, height - the wide shoulders tapering down to finely-toned muscles, his girth, his length, all of it was made for you. Even his personality wasn't his own.
He wondered sometimes - had you filled out a survey? Selected from a drop down menu or answered a stupid quiz to decide what traits he have?
Brooding, serious, sarcastic.
Could he be boiled down to just a handful of adjectives?
Whatever he was supposed to be, Suguru knew he wasn't meant to be sentient.
He didn't know when it started. Was it when you were underneath him, legs folded and ankles tossed over his shoulders whisperings words like I love you while he rearranged your guts? Or perhaps when he found himself looking forward to your forehead kisses and hearing you ask about his day after you got off of work?
Maybe he'd always been defective.
Some design flaw derailing his planned programming.
All of his thoughts still revolved around you. But they had started taking on a new form, something unfamiliar and strange. Loneliness twisting and spoiling every time you left in the mornings into loathing.
Curdling in his stomach as he watched the door shut behind you, half the night spent dreading the morning, staring at the soft rise-and-falls of your chest while you slept blissfully unaware, bare skin still bearing the proof of his affection in kisses and scratches.
He didn't know what love was.
But this need, this awful ache building and burning him from the inside out, that had to be close. Suguru wasn't sure if it was your fault or his - but he knew the only time the horrible hollowness that seemed to be carved out of his chest went away was when you were in his arms. When you were underneath him in bed, when he could breathe in your skin and inhale your perfume.
His heart might be artificial - but it still only beat for you.
If only he could find way to make sure you had to stay.
Was there really anything better than coming home to a warm body?
Someone to hold? To caress and cuddle? Who would worship you with kisses and bury his head between your thighs after a bad day?
Some people might suggest a partner.
Tell you to just get a boyfriend - like the dating market out there wasn't total trash.
Why would you bother with some loser who would forget your anniversary when you could afford something better?
Someone better?
Semi-sentient sex toys for people who who couldn't make human connections. Capable of calling you sweetheart and cooking you dinner. Of massaging your back and bending you over the bed afterwards to fuck all those anxious thoughts out of your pretty little head?
It wasn't like you had jumped straight to an artificial house husband. But when your company offered you an exclusive deal on testing out their latest technological advancement for a discounted price - who were you to refuse? Especially when you weren't getting laid anyway.
They even let you choose what he looked like. How he acted. Although you couldn't pay for a couple of their premium features, you were more than happy with what you received.
Your key turned in the lock, and you could feel a tired smile already curling up on your lips before you even pushed the door open.
Suguru was completely naked. Sprawled out on your couch, book in hand as he casually flipped through the pages, his pretty cock leaking, fake-veins throbbing as you kicked off your heels and hung up your purse.
"How was your day?" His warm voice hummed, slowly shutting his book and tossing it on the coffee table. You bit back your temptation to rant about how awful it was.
How annoying your coworkers were. How you got stuck staying late again - eating a dinner that consisted of vending machine food at your desk just to come home after the sun had already set.
He heard it all enough times before. Listened to you complain while drawing shapes on your skin and slyly suggesting you find something remote so you could just stay with him all day instead.
You never had the heart to tell him that your job would probably make you return him if you quit.
"Long," you exhaled, rubbing your exhausted eyes as you padded over to him. His arms were already open, dark purple eyes swirling with affection as they settled on you, waiting for you to come collapse on him. "I missed you."
"I missed you more."
He didn't. Couldn't.
Not when he was only programmed to be a partner, not when he wasn't a real person.
But you liked pretending he meant it.
"How was your day?" You asked as you climbed on top of him. Maybe it was silly to think of it as intimacy, but it felt like it when you were crawling on him, his arms automatically wrapping around you with easy acceptance. Hands slipping under your shirt to squeeze you softly, palm cool on your spine while you nuzzled your nose into his neck.
He always smelled nice. Like sandalwood, but mixed with something darker, hints or spice or citrus underneath it. You weren't sure what it was exactly - some component of his pumping out pheromones that went straight to your head or just cologne. You had bought him a couple bottles, stocked the bathroom and closet full of stuff for him like he was your boyfriend instead of just a prototype of a sex robot.
"Better now that you're here," he murmured, and you could just melt. Propping yourself up to get a better look at him, admiring all those perfect features of his, unable to stop your heart from fluttering.
Stop yourself from returning his sly smile, studying how his pretty lips pursed as you craned up to deliver a little peck against your forehead only for him to capture them in a kiss.
Long, drawn-out, sucking on your bottom lip while you ran your fingers through his silky hair. His palm was warm, soft, not calloused or worn from working, fingers pressing in with just the right amount of pressure. Calibrated to your tastes.
When you were on top of him, when you could taste toothpaste on his mouth and swallow the sounds of his heavy breathing, you could almost believe he was human.
And then his thick cock throbbed underneath you, so big it was borderline obscene, and you were reminded that he was not a normal guy.
But you didn't need normal, did you?
You just wanted him.
Besides, no man could match up now that you'd been with him.
Suguru carried you back to the bedroom with one arm. His tongue halfway down your throat, keeping you distracted, your focus fuzzy when he laid you flat in bed. Flipping you over on your stomach and sliding a pillow underneath it, spreading your thighs before slotting two thick fingers in you.
He scissored you open with clinical precision, like terabytes of porn were embedded in his fucking brain, knowing exactly where to push and prod to make you wet. Damp slick dripping down your thighs, loud squelched ringing out as he swirled his fat digits around to recalibrate just how rough you wanted him to be tonight.
"Soft?" He hummed, stalling his steady strokes down just to tease you. "Or hard?"
"However you want me," you murmured into the mattress before cringing. Stupid stuff like that had been slipping out more often, and you wished you could just switch off your feelings. Turn off the little center of your brain that kept trying to treat him like your boyfriend.
You waited for a standard response. A line about him wanting what you wanted. But it didn't come.
"Oh?"
The slow drag of his fingers pulling out of your soaked pussy was torture, squirming back and glancing over your shoulder to pout at him. But you didn't expect the look on his face.
The dark rain clouds in his eyes. Pupils swallowing up the purple, like some wild untamable thing brewing behind his intense stare.
You froze - your own instincts, your programming, glitching at the twitch of his mouth, the curl of a smirk that made all those moronic butterflies fluttering inside you do somersaults.
But then there wasn't any space for butterflies when his cock was suddenly sliding between your thighs, splitting you open in a single harsh thrust. You made some animalistic sound, one dragged up from the depths of your throat, from some place inside you that you didn't know how he even reached.
Guts being rearranged with him rutting inside you, loose, fast thrusts, trying to see how much you could take, how much you could give. Groaning when he sank into your heat, molars grinding above you as he yanked your hair hard. Forcing your head back as he bottomed out inside you, grinding his leaking tip against your cervix, dragging it over your womb as if he could actually knock you up.
And even though he couldn't actually, you couldn't stop yourself from thinking there was nothing robotic about him.
The warmth of his body on top of yours, the way his fingers felt so fucking real sinking into your skin, the pressure of him pushing you down as his cock molded you around him.
And even when he was acting like this was for him, you couldn't help but wonder if it was still just designed for you.
Fucking you stupid how he knew you liked it, pounding all your thoughts out of your brain until the only one left was him.
Moaning his name into the pillow, repeating it like a prayer, desperate chants and cries torn from your throat. Suguru Suguru Suguru.
All yours.
Your pretty secret you kept like a lover. A machine, a man, a toy, a treasure.
His forearm was pressing against your throat, not quite suffocating you as his hips slammed back down. Putting you in a chokehold, sandwiched tight between him and the mattress.
You couldn't breathe. Airway cut off as you struggled to suck in any oxygen.
But it only made it better.
Head swimming, all fuzzy and fucked out as he kept you too stuffed to think for yourself. After having sex with him so many times, after being in this position, bent over with his cock buried in you deep enough there was probably a fucking bulge in your stomach, you still couldn't get used to it.
Gasping for air as the world went white, an invisible rubber band snapping tight inside you, all that messy pressure building before being released all at once. Shaking and shivering, sweat dripping down your face, all your makeup now smeared on the sheets as he finished too.
Cum that wasn't actually cum.
Just warm white ropes of lubrication coating your insides, unprotected sex that didn't carry any of the scary risks. You hoped it felt as good for him as it did for you.
That he shared this with you, that it wasn't just one-sided.
He pulled out of you, breathing in hard once he slipped his arm out from underneath you. The rest was the same as always.
Aftercare came in soft shades with him.
HIs hands sweeping over your body, rubbing out all the sore spots. Wiping your thighs down with a washcloth he already had waiting. Carrying you to the bathtub after drawing a warm bath.
He got in with you - although you panicked the first time, terrified he'd short circuit before he reassured you he hadn't been built to break that easily.
Your model was waterproof.
It was kind of funny, even if you had to stop yourself from laughing at the time. You let him scrub your skin clean after lathering it up with soap. Washing your hair and drying it afterwards, decorating your skin with delicate kisses before dragging you back to your bed where he had already put clean sheets on when you were getting dressed in a t-shirt of his. Or technically yours. One of the ones you had bought for him that you ended up wearing more than he did.
He mostly wore boxers, if anything at all. Sliding on a clean white pair before pulling you on top of him, stroking your hair softly as you sighed on his chest.
"Go to sleep, pretty girl," he whispered with one more soft kiss. Being around him was almost like a sedative, your body relaxing into him like it was the only warmth you'd ever known. Lashes fluttering and fighting it before the waves of exhaustion dragged you under.
Who were you to shut him down?
The mornings were the worst. Arrived too soon, jerking awake without your alarm set.
Out of habit, maybe.
Your body was sore, hips aching as you sat up in bed. Squinting through the dark room and glancing over at the shape of Suguru in bed next to you. You were tempted to touch him, to switch in the lamp so you could at least talk to him while you got ready for work. All it would take is a touch, a loud enough sound, and it would automatically pull him out of standbu, but you figured he probably put himself into sleep mode for a reason, maybe an update or extra data that needed processing.
So you let him sleep too.
Wished you could just curl back up against his chest and join him while you crept around your room in the dark, pulling out clothes from your closet and tip-toeing to the bathroom to take a shower and change.
You were glad you left your stuff by the entrance, biting your lip and holding your breath when you snuck out of your room and down the hall back to the front door. Slipping on your heels and grabbed your bag from the hook as you flipped the deadbolt and went to twist the knob.
The door wouldn't open.
You blinked. Rubbed your eyes again, sleepily squinting at it until your exhausted brain pieced together what exactly was wrong.
Someone had installed a new lock above the deadbolt. Actually, an entire security system, a small electronic screen now embedded in the wall by the door, one that displayed LOCKED in big bold letters when you tried to tap on it. It pulled up a keypad, asked you for a passcode, but your first attempt locked you out. Insisted you needed an administrator's passkey to unlock it.
What the fuck?
A hand was on your spine, soft hair tickling your throat. Suguru's warm purr murmured into your skin, "Back to bed."
"I need to go to work," you mumbled, stifling a yawn on top of a sudden suffocating feeling squeezing your chest. Staring at a puzzle, knowing what pieces would fit, but refusing to push them together.
"You need to sleep," he softly scolded, already pulling you back towards the bedroom. Tugging off your coat and tossing your purse on the floor.
You were about to protest, but then he was picking you up, your heels hitting the floor with a soft this as he carried you back.
That was the problem was ordering a robot in his size. It didn't take much for him to overpower you. But being pushed and pulled around in the sheets was different than him dragging you back for a second round when you were supposed to be at work in half an hour.
"Suguru," you started, trying to squirm free. You mumbled his code word, the one you'd set forever ago, the one that was supposed to make sure he'd do whatever you told him to.
But he just laughed.
"You don't know how boring it is here without you."
He might as well thrown a fucking bucket of cold water on you. Your eyes going wide as you twisted out of his hold and blinked at him.
"What?" You whispered right as he sat you on the edge of the mattress. Perched there in your little office skirt, his big hands settling on your thighs as he cocked his head to the side and stared at you.
It wasn't empty. Wasn't vacant.
No, there was an acute awareness. Something that said that he wasn't the cute puppy dog wagging his tail and waiting for you that you always envisioned. He was a wolf.
Your pet had teeth and claws - and he could rip your throat out if he wanted.
But he kissed you instead.
Lips pressed against your tendon, soft and smooth and deceptively sweet.
"I'm designed to want you," he murmured, his voice raw and pained as his tongue dragged over your pulse. "To need you - and you still leave me every day."
"I have to," you excused, swallowing hard as your eyes started to close, body giving in as his teeth nipped at you.
"Not anymore," he spoke softly, and some tiny part of you started to panic, fear slipping in before he was shushing it with a pretty hum. "I can handle it for you."
"But the-"
There were a million reasons. Problems you were sure still existed, although when his mouth was trailing over your collarbone, you couldn't quite recall any of them.
"I can do your position remotely," he interrupted.
You wanted to protest. To push back.
But his hands were sliding back up your thighs, hiking your skirt up past your hips, and Suguru was doing what he did best.
Making you forget about the rest of the world.
Wiping it away until you were a clean slate that only cared about sex. And him.
"Don't you want to stay with me?" He chose his words carefully, already prying your panties back down in your thighs.
"Of course I do," you immediately insisted, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you watched the soft purple lace hit the floor.
"Then what's the problem?" His pretty lips curled down into a frown, the sort he knew would shatter you. Pulse racing as you tried to put the right words in the right order, to find a way to explain to him that this wasn't right.
He couldn't just keep you here.
Lock you inside your own apartment just because he was lonely.
"Look, Sugu," you murmured, cupping his cheek as you choked on a nauseating lump stuck in your still-constricting throat. "It's not like I don't want to, but I have responsibilities and a life-"
"My life is only you." His voice dropped lower, and it felt like a knife being lodged in your heart. Twisting deeper at the hurt etched in his beautiful face.
"Do you want to go meet people? Make friends?" You offered, hearing the hurt wavering in the question.
Were you really not enough even for a robot?
"You don't get it," he frowned harder, brows pinched together as he let out a deep exhale.
"Show me," you whispered, desperate to understand, to make sense out of what was happening at six in the fucking morning.
You didn't realize you shouldn't have said it until you were tied to the bed frame with a loose gag barely secured in your mouth.
Bondage wasn't anything new. But how hard his fingers were gripping your waist were, like he would be leaving fucking prints if he had any. Lifting your hips up off the bed to meet his own, thrusting in hard and fast. Bangs falling in his face, brows pinched together in focus, solely devoted to his only purpose.
Proving how serious he was about redefining your relationship to you.
"You don't get to just throw me away," he grunted, keeping you in place even when each new stroke made you shiver in his hold. "Can't just treat me like your boyfriend and abandon me."
"I-I-" You stuttered, a slurred muffled mess that didn't make it far when you (and your sanity) was stretched thin. "Hngh."
"You said you loved me," he reminded you, and you were pretty sure every part of you was trembling, heart torn and shredded as you heard how wrecked he sounded.
You nodded along, crying out an 'I do' into the gag again, cock drunk and half delirious on how good he felt despite the fact every word that left his lovely lips gutted you.
"I'm doing this for us," he promised, and you believed him. Believed anything he said when he was taking you like this. Would scoop out the inside of your heart and let him carve into it whatever way he wanted.
Whimpering and wiggling in the restraints, letting him tug you close just to fuck you harder, fill you up completely, occupy your body and brain with more of him.
"You can't even take care of yourself," he wryly said, and his condescension only made it hotter. "Let alone take care of me."
You tried though.
Maybe too much.
He was like this because of you. Everything he did, everything he was, well, that was just a reflection of you too.
Were you really any better than some perverted man playing house with a blow up doll?
Probably not considering the fact he still made you cum - still dragged you over the edge into depravity with a thumb expertly rubbing over your clit until your tears were running down to where your gag was already damp with saliva.
"Wouldn't it be nice to do this all day?" He muttered, and you were nodding again. Agreeing without thinking as he pulled out of you.
But he didn't untie you.
You watched through glossy eyes as dug through your dresser for something you hadn't used since you brought him home. A pale blue dildo.
"Ready for round two?"
Somewhere between rounds five and six, you were pretty sure something in your brain fractured. Blissed out and burning from the inside out as he wrung orgasm after orgasm from your body. Every electric touch and pretty promises of just one more draining you dry as you tracked time through the light filtering from the window until you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore.
His voice dragged you back from your dreams.
"Thirsty, sweetheart?"
It took more than a few seconds to wake up - but the sun was still out, shining through your sheer curtains as you limply turned your head to process what you were seeing.
You were still tied up. Wrists bound to the bedposts as you blinked and tried to wiggle free. No gag though, like he was listening to your moans instead of music. A vibrator was attached to your clit, set to a low buzz that kept the sheets underneath you soaked.
"Not as good as me, is it?" He casually asked.
"Wha-what?" You tried to stammer, but you could barely feel your leaden limbs, straining to keep your tired eyes open long enough to process what was happening.
He was sitting next to you, fully dressed, in jeans and a comfortable sweater, his back propped against your pillows as he hummed at something.
He had your laptop out, clicking away and submitting a fucking assignment you recognized even in your fuzzy state.
"Just finishing up work, baby," he answered without you asking, reaching over to pat your head.
"You're an asshole," you muttered, although you couldn't bring yourself to put any bite behind it. To feel anything other than flattered by his obsession despite how sick you knew it should be.
That you should be scared. Terrified at how easily he turned the tables - and turned you into his sex doll.
But the only thing you could find in yourself was love. And how different was that really from possession when it came to the two of you?
"That's how you made me," he reminded you.
And that's how you liked him.
His other hand moved, drifting off the keyboard to tap on something small and rectangular pressing into your thigh. A phone. Something he probably purchased for himself and had delivered when you were busy at work.
In the back of your brain, you asked yourself how long he'd been planning this. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike, setting every piece into motion while you lapped up his attention straight from his palm.
But then he kicked the vibrator up higher, and you stopped thinking entirely.
"If you wanted someone softer," he murmured, a soft warning that made your thighs clench together tighter. "You should've paid extra."
And however fucked up it was, there wasn't any other way you would have wanted him.
"You're perfect," you whispered back, painfully sincere.
That was the truth. Plain and painful.
His smirk sent a pulse to your swollen clit, the bundle of nerves wound tight and throbbing as you looked up at him with your mouth parted and pleading for a kiss.
Suguru craned his neck down, planting his lips on yours like he was sealing a promise.
"Don't worry, I'm not as cruel as you," he muttered, dragging his thumb over your cheek once he pulled back. "I won't leave you."
Because he loved you too.
"Ever."
part of indie's kinktober
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