Scenario: Sugar Daddy Askin, Yhwach, Ryuken, Jugram x R E A D E R
🍭Warning: MODERN DAY AU, +18 only. Pussy eating in public, vaginal sex, condoms, creampie, romance, Jugram is a Virgin, Askin is cringe, mention of arranged marriage.
🍭a/n: This is my first time writing Quincies. So i thought best way to get my muscles warm was writing short head canons. Please feedback encouraged. Askin was my favourite to write!!!
🍭TAGS: for feeding my insanity and offering these suggestions Ty. @whatshernameis @ninaskylight
ASKIN
Askin is a successful chef who owns a chain of restaurants all across the globe. Being a supertaster had its perks. He sure is one of the most successful out of his family/clan despite being mocked as a child for having a rather useless quirk.
That super taste certainly carried over when it came to spotting himself a fine companion; you. Of course, he searched and searched to find the right one and it took him a while until he settled with you, someone you could match his freak. Or at least endure his quirky personality with a genuine smile. And he can pick out disingenuous behaviour miles away. His taste buds start tingling, warning him of the poisonous and rotten brats flirting with him, making his stomach churn. Reflex kicks in and he is darting dramatically in the opposite direction. He can sprint.
Askin can talk your ears off. As soon as he opens his mouth, he won’t shut up and keeps going in circles while trying to explain even the trivial things. He finds it endearing how you patiently listen while fine dining at one of his expensive restaurants.
Is he the romantic type? Kind of. Askin is pure cringe. He showers you with praises out in the open which leaves you blushing and sinking in your chair. He would snap his fingers, asking the waiters or random strangers to come forward and compliment you (or your outfit) right before his eyes. He closely watches you squirm in embarrassment and he just gives you a wink and a thumbs up. “Killing it today baby”.
One thing's for certain. He has a peculiar sense of fashion. He would definitely tag along and offer some fashion advice while shopping at the luxury boutiques with his credit card in hand. He never lets you make a purchase without his consultation. Aesthetics is everything. He can’t have you walking around wearing dull colors that cramps his style.
NSFW: Will he engage in a sexual relationship? Hell yeah! He loves eating out your pussy in public, setting you on the pool table, his face buried under your skirt so no one can see your intimate parts. He licks your folds and drinks you up as you release all over his tongue. He pulls his face out of your skirt and drags the padding of his thumb across his bottom lip. “Delightful taste! You’ve been eating more high-fructose fruits, haven't you? Just for me? I feel so special! Add in some citrus fruits in there next time. I love me some tangy tangs!” He makes a fake sour face that has you giggling.
YHWACH
Yhwach didn’t exactly need a companion. He was content with running his corporate empire and clan without the need for a significant other. His heir was his adoptive son so why the need to marry and share his wealth?
But suddenly he was presented with the idea of a no long-term commitement ‘sugar-baby’ by his successors. Several candidates were hand-picked by the clan to serve him. But no one came close to impressing him as it was obvious they cared only for his wealth and nothing more. That was until you walked in, your elegance and intellect allured him into a trap that he fought so hard to avoid for years.
If he requests your presence, you better show up on time. Not that he was impatient. He had all the patience in the world. He waited a lifetime to build his empire. But he was very busy and only had a short window to indulge in entertainment.
How was he entertained? He would have you seated on his lap in his grand private library while having in-depth philosophical conversations. Sometimes he would just sit back on his leather chair, his eyes closed as if he was resting and listen to your sweet voice as you read him a book. He was a literature enthusiast. Particularly classic literature. The older the book, the better. And you just effortlessly articulated the words, the stories coming together, carrying both of you into that fantasy world. That was the only time he would let himself go.
He was also a music lover. Again classical music. He would take you to symphony orchestra concerts. He would teach you how to play the piano or hire someone to teach you the violin. He would sit and listen to you play for hours if time allowed. If he was on a long business trip, he would put you on speaker on his phone and listen to you practice and string up a melody for him. He would compliment you. Call you his princess. Encourage you to play for no one but him.
He didn’t care how you used his credit card. Buy whatever. You want a new condo? Sure. A private jet? Done! A Birkin bag! Why not 10? What he did care about was how you presented yourself. Not just to him but his family and his business partners. He had a reputation he carried. And you were careful to live up to his expectations.
He did show off his prized possession. You! If there was an important meeting, he made sure to introduce you to his guests. Invited to a banquet? He paraded you around with your arms linked with his and he never let you leave his sight. He was possessive. You were now part of his family.
Would he engage in a sexual relationship? No. Not until he takes you in as his bride. Which was initially not the plan. You don’t know it yet but the preparations are underway.
RYUKEN
Ryuken is trying very hard not to get attached to you. He keeps conversations to a minimum. He mostly takes you out for dinners or trips. He never invited you to his house because he does not want his son to find out that his father is a patron. It is a secret shared between you two and his driver. But then again, since when did he ever share much about his private life with anyone?
He has a bit more control over how much of his money you spend. He has a set budget which is still very generous. But all purchases need to be approved by him. Even though he is rich, he does not believe in wasting away resources on nonsensical commodities that retain no value. Gold jewelry and a house are fine. He will put a lot of money into your mutual funds to secure your future. But he won't approve of a closet full of purses and shoes.
He is very committed to his job. He will cancel plans at the last minute, walk out of dinners or even cut his vacation short if the hospital needs him. He does promise that he will make up for it when he can. And he does keep all his promises.
He doesn't care how you dress up. He doesn't judge your appearance and whether you are dolled up for him or not. All he cares about is your undivided attention when he is with you. Yes, he doesn't talk much. But he loves listening to your voice. It somehow muffles out all his worries and worldly distractions plaguing him.
He is an unexpected romance. He is the hand-holding, finger-interlaced type. While dining, he would squeeze your thigh under the table to remind you that the hotel was the next stop. You can't read his stern face but you can read his body language. And his body language doesn't shy away from telling you what exactly he desires.
NSFW: After a nice evening with good food and entertainment, he takes you to the hotel. He doesn't want to go to your place. He doesn't want to get attached to you and your belongings. Yet every time you spread your legs for him, he can't help but want more from you. Your sweet moans of ecstasy has him trying harder, repetitively thrusting his hips forward until the condom is full of seed. He leans forward, kissing you on the lips while changing into a fresh condom without glancing down. With each change of condom, you are chipping away at that hard ice and unexpectedly getting closer to his heart.
JUGRAM
Jugram is a complex man to be around. He has inherited a vast empire from his adoptive father and has a lot of responsibilities. He is dedicated to the cause of growing the Quincy modern-day empire. But there is also a cruel darker side to him that you have yet to witness.
What he needs the most is some emotional support. He won't show it but he does get overwhelmed. He hides his emotions well but around you, he will let them slip just a little to give you a hint as to what is needed from you. Soothing words of encouragement. Perhaps a gentle shoulder massage. A simple pat on the head as it reminds him of his deceased father who would often pat his head when he was a child. Oh, he absolutely melts in your hands when you run your fingers through his golden locks.
He thinks of you as his loyal servant but you have to remind him that this wasn't the 1800’s and he should refrain from using such words. You also have to educate him on the difference between a prostitute and your role. Oh, it just occurs to you that this man was so naive that you bet your money he was a virgin.
He doesn't laugh much but when he does it is from your corny jokes. He loves how free you are in expressing yourself and how you are not bound to any obligations, like him.
He clearly hasn't been out much because at a young age he was trained to be the successor of the clan and the businesses owned by his family. He was very much sheltered and spoiled. So it wasn't surprising that he ended up with a nosebleed when you took him to a strip club for the first time.
He rewards you with whatever you please. He calls them ‘rewards’ because that's how he was raised. You take whatever he gives you and sometimes it is more than what you asked for.
He is very clingy and constantly texting you. He wants attention and feels a hint of jealousy strike him when you don't answer his texts within a certain time frame.
This relationship is kept a secret because Jugram has already been arranged to marry someone wealthy. This was arranged when he was only a young teenager. He has yet to meet this woman.
NSFW: your suspicion was cleared when he finally asked to have sex, which was months into the relationship. He fumbled and wasn't sure how to position himself. So you patiently guided him inside you. Of course on his first attempt, he would end up ejaculating prematurely. Could you blame him? Your pussy was so hot and tight. His thick warm cum sat in your womb, suddenly reminding you that you forgot condoms! He leans forward, kissing you passionately on the lips and whispers “Let’s elope”, finally breaking free of his predetermined destiny.
KINKTOBER DAY 7 - Overstimulation: Askin Nakk Le Vaar x Female Reader
Requested by @dopepoisonivyoncrack
Summary: Food critic, blogger and author extrodinaire, Askin Nakk Le Vaar, craves his one true, favourite meal at his one true favourite restaurant. Unfortunately for him, it's not quite the same. The mystery chef, with no mentions of who they are, where they come from and where they're currently working, are unknown. How hard is it to find a good meal?
TW: MDNI! Modern AU, food talk, culinary terms, oral sex (fem receiving), phone exhibitionism, penetrative sex (fem receiving).
Word count: 3773
Read on AO3 here.
Food critic, blogger and author extraordinaire Askin Nakk Le Vaar was upset.
His favourite restaurant, R&D. His hidden gem of hidden gems, the one place he gatekept away from the public, disappointed him. He spat out the offensive food into his napkin, “what the hell is this?” He asked, shoving bits of the dish around on his plate, trying to discern what was the offending ingredient.
It physically looked the same as before, but something was different. Completely different. His favourite meal tasted nothing like before. It was bitter, left an uncomfortable film on his tongue, and the texture was off.
His server came by, concern evident on their face, “sir, is there anything wrong with your meal?”
Askin scoffed, “this dish,” he pointed to his plate, “what happened to it? This was the best thing you had on the menu.”
The server looked at him anxiously, “I’m not sure I understand, sir. It’s the same as it’s always been.”
Askin narrowed his eyes, “no. It’s clearly different.”
The server looked around quickly, trying to get the attention of a colleague, unsure if Askin would get angry over the meal. “I can take this back to the kitchen if you want, sir.” The server said, before Askin put his hand in front of the plate to stop them.
“Hey, let me take it from here.” Another server approached. Askin recognized this server, they had been here for as long as Askin visited the restaurant. The new server ushered away Askin’s previous waitstaff.
“Hello sir, what may be the problem?” The new server inquired, both recognizing each other.
“There’s something off with this dish.”
“You’re the first one who noticed, sir! The recipe has changed a bit.” The server smiled.
“Well it’s not very good. You ruined a perfectly fine dish.” Askin said, exasperated, running his fingers through his hair.
The server kept smiling, but this time it looked tight and restrained, “yes, well that is partly due to new management. Our previous chef has left.”
Askin raised an eyebrow and looked at the server with curiosity, “was this chef the one working when I’ve visited before?”
“Most likely yes.” The server said, bowing their head.
“What’s the chef’s name?” Askin asked.
“I’m sorry sir, I’m not at liberty to disclose that.” The server said apologetically.
Askin sighed, “where are they now?” he inquired, pulling out his phone.
“I heard rumours they’re now the Sous Chef at Enigma.” The server said, “but I can’t verify that. They left R&D on shaky terms with the owner.”
Askin narrowed his eyes, Enigma. He didn’t particularly care for the restaurant, but he hadn’t been in a year or so. Maybe it’s time for another visit he thought to himself. “Don’t worry about the dish. I’ll pay for my meal.” Askin explained as the server left to fetch his bill.
A part of Askin wondered why he didn’t use his connections in the culinary world to find out who this Mystery Chef was and where they went, but Askin also knew that there was a thrill to solving a puzzle.
Before entering the Enigma, He took a step back from the entrance and framed the restaurant between his two hands into a rectangular shape. His last visit here was beautiful, but the taste was unremarkable. Askin hated it – what’s the point of style if there was no substance?
He did use his connections though to secure him a reservation, allowing him entry in the highly coveted restaurant. The tasting menu was fairly standard he thought, but he saw a fusion dish of incorporating mussels and pear kimchi that intrigued him… and then the same dish he wanted before at R&D.
Askin was partly in disbelief, but he knew it was better to taste it than to get his hopes up.
And then the meals came and went, each dish presented beautifully and paired with the wine of choice. In between meals, Askin would take out his phone and note down anything and everything about his experience. Then the dish he was looking forward to, was served.
Enigma provided a smaller portion than the other restaurant, yet the presentation was similar. Askin cut a small piece, making sure his bite had a bit of everything as it should be he thought. Once it was in his mouth, his face dropped.
Askin begrudgingly swallowed it. The taste was still not the same as before. He finished the plate and downed the wine, trying to forget it. A server came by to clear his table as the next dishes were served.
Plate after plate, wine after wine, Askin wanted to leave. Once his bill was brought to him, he asked his server, “the Sous Chef here, did they work at R&D before?”
The server gave a surprised look but shook their head. “Not anymore.” They explained, “we did have a Sous Chef who came from there, but they’ve left now.”
Askin knew better than to ask for Mystery Chef’s name again, instead he asked, “do you know which restaurant they’re working at now?”
“I’m not quite sure, sir. I started working here just after they left.” The server responded sheepishly. “That’s too bad.” Askin sighed, slumping in his seat, “they know they’re way around food,” Askin said aloud, ignoring the server as he paid for his bill.
Askin paced in his home as his notes on R&D and Engima were posted side-by-side on his computer, along with photos he had taken during his visits.
R&D was owned by the Kurotsuchi Company, who he wanted minimal interaction with they’re too much of a hassle to get through. He surmised. R&D was such a hidden gem because it looked so inconspicuous, almost as if it were being run in a derelict kitchen. It didn’t help that the maître d’hôtel, Nemu Kurotsuchi, the owner’s daughter, was expressionless and taciturn to customers. Rumours circled that she had poured cold water over an allegedly hysterical customer, and the owner, her father, had yelled at both the customer and Nemu. The sommelier on the other hand, Akon, was a true expert in the field. Yet was often faced dealing with the public if Nemu’s cold attitude was too much for customers. While Askin was not friendly with the executive staff of R&D, Akon was someone he didn’t mind speaking with, but he sensed that he would get nowhere with them.
Enigma on the other hand, was owned by chemist-turned-restauranteur Urahara Kisuke… who was also someone Askin wanted to avoid.
But Askin’s search was leading him nowhere. He scoured articles, reviews and social media posts to find anything on Mystery Chef, but to no avail. They appeared, then disappeared. No name, no next restaurant, just gone.
Askin let out a sigh, he was going around in circles. He decided to go for a walk to clear his head, where out of habit, he walked to his favourite café. Out of all the cafés in the city, Askin preferred this shop’s technique on making café au lait. He found himself a seat and sat down, savouring each sip of his drink.
“C’mon, please!” Askin’s ears twitched, he knew that voice.
“No… I think I need break, Urahara-san.” An unfamiliar voice said softly.
“Well, after your break. Why don’t you come back?” Askin turned his head to see Urahara Kisuke, talking to a woman he didn’t recognize. She was stylish, put-together, yet looked exhausted. Her exasperated look told him everything he needed to know about this conversation.
“You’re the best Sous Chef I’ve had! I’ll increase your salary. Anything, you name it!” Kisuke pleaded.
Sous Chef?
Was she Mystery Chef?
Askin stood up and walked over to the table. Kisuke noticed him immediately and narrowed his eyes. Askin saw Kisuke immediately stare at him, before quickly glancing at Mystery Chef. His face gave nothing away, but Askin already felt that a plan was concocting in his mind, but Askin pushed that aside. He wanted to know more about her.
“Mr. Nakk Le Vaar! What do we owe the pleasure to?” Kisuke smiled, his grey eyes sharp as he pulled a seat out for Askin.
The woman stared at Askin, recognition and awe evident in her face as she stood up to shake his hand and introduce herself. “It’s an honour to meet you! I love reading your reviews.” Mystery Chef said enthusiastically.
“You know him?” Kisuke asked, raising an eyebrow.
You looked at him, shocked at what he just said, “of course I know who he is! Anyone who’s anyone in this business knows who he is.”
Askin chuckled, as he humbly accepted your praise. Yet internally he was a bit smug, you knew who he was. He reeled in this information as you explained to Kisuke how Askin’s reviews have brought acclaim to their city.
Askin watched as you converse, noticing every detail about you, from your shapely figure to your well-manicured nails that were short, yet shaped and painted. It was a cold autumn day, and he noticed the wool coat draped over your chair, to the luxurious cashmere sweater you wore, tailored pants and loafers. Your jewelry was minimal, but tastefully chosen.
Style and substance Askin thought to himself, not paying attention to what was being said between you and Kisuke.
“Going back to my earlier question –“ Kisuke began.
“Were you the Sous Chef at R&D?” Askin interrupted, rudely. You looked at him in surprise for cutting of Kisuke so quickly, as Kisuke’s demeanour changed. He coldly stared at Askin, watching the scene unfold in front of him.
You gave him a half smile, “yes, I was.”
“I don’t say this often, and I don’t take it lightly, but you seriously are a talented chef.” Askin said, honestly. He stared at you intensely, his lavender eyes were warm, yet sharp. It took you by surprise, yet he continued “that dish of yours… you know the one. The one you brought to Enigma that you were serving at R&D…”
“Yes? What about it?” You asked.
“That was easily the best dish I have ever had in my life. You elevated R&D’s menu with it. I went there recently, and they told me you left for Enigma.” Askin explained, “and so I went there when I saw it on their menu, but it wasn’t the same as before. Then I heard you left there too.”
You avoided his gaze and looked down at your lap, now you were facing two people who were too nosy for their own good.
“I’m not sure what Mr. Urahara is asking for you to do,” Askin began to explain, “but I will pay you whatever you want, get the ingredients you need, if I can have that dish again.”
You and Kisuke stared at him in shock, “what?!” You asked, disbelievingly. “You can’t be serious!” You admonished him, but Askin was unwavering in his eyes. He was serious.
“You can use Enigma’s kitchens!” Kisuke interjected, a bit too enthusiastic for Askin’s liking.
“No.” You and Askin said simultaneously.
“Well the option is there if you change your mind.” He teased, Askin rolling his eyes while you gave him a pointed glare, he’s so annoying you thought.
You placed enough cash with tip on the table then grabbed Askin’s hand, pulling him away. The two men were shocked at the suddenness of you leaving, “Hey!” Askin said, trying to pull away.
“I’m taking you up on your offer! Let’s go!” You said. “And I’m tired of hearing Kisuke talk. He’s getting on my nerves.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Askin chuckled, letting you lead the way. Kisuke gave a wry laugh as he left the café as well, watching the two of you disappear in the crowd outside.
Your home suited you. Askin took stock of your décor, your furnishings and everything in between. Your kitchen was immaculate, with spices and seasonings neatly labelled. He sipped the glass of water you offered him as he watched you cook. Your hair was up and away from your face, as you wore a simple, navy apron as you moved throughout your kitchen.
You had also asked him if he could try two other recipes you were experimenting with, to which he agreed to, trying to hide his eagerness.
He was mesmerized, watching you sauté, flambé, and plate every dish.
“Honestly my friends and family told me it was great, but it’s not every day I get an actual food critic to test out my cooking.” Giving him a warm smile.
God, he thought to himself, taking note of how beautiful your smile was.
The first dish was a nduja and cabbage soup, then followed by Caesar steamed artichokes. The aromas filled the kitchen, as Askin watched you prep every ingredient, taking note of your knife skills, the way you handled each utensil and confidence over the stove. You tasted along, offering a bit for Askin to sample. Each morsel triggering a sense of excitement in Askin. He was eager, willing and wanted more of what you offered.
His enthusiasm rubbed off on you, as you were happy to feed him everything. He praised you each time he tried something, and offered suggestions on what dish needed more or less of whatever ingredient, but you saw in his eyes, Askin was enjoying himself.
And then what he came for. The dish that had haunted him for weeks. Barbacoa-style short ribs, and you had plated it on a bed of creamy mashed potatoes. Askin was hesitant at first, taking a step back to frame the dish in his view using his fingers, forming a triangle shape. You were amused by the scene, “please, eat it! I owe you this.” You laughed as he stared at the plate in front of him.
It was the plated the same way he was familiar with, as if he was being served this at R&D. You watched him slowly cut a piece of meat, scooping a bit of mashed potatoes. Once Askin was satisfied with what was on his fork, he put it into his mouth. His eyes widened as familiar tastes and sensations filled his mouth once again.
He dug into the meal, feeling as though he was ravenous. His brain couldn’t compute with what he was tasting. He was overwhelmed. His eyes were darting around from his plate, to you, to your home. You had unlocked something in his brain that very few meals had been able to do.
“This,” Askin said, before taking another piece and swallowing it, “is one of the best meals I’ve ever had.”
You blushed deeply, knowing that he didn’t praise freely. “Thank you, it means a lot coming from you.”
“Don’t just take it from me. You have a gift, you know.” Askin explained, “you know what ingredient goes with what, but you’re not afraid to experiment.” You laughed in embarrassment, but he continued on, “And not only that, but the meals also look exquisite. You have a real eye for plating.” Your blush deepened. “So why the break?” Askin asked, crossing his arms as he stared at you, his tone serious, his lavender eyes piercing into your soul.
It startled you, but you felt that you could trust him.
“I just…” you murmured, unable to look at him, “I didn’t know what I was doing all of this for.” You admitted, “but hearing you say these things, watching you enjoy your food…”
A light blush appeared on Askin’s face at that comment, but you didn’t notice and continued on, “I think I just miss seeing people happy eating my food. Even though I was the Sous Chef at Enigma, and one of the chef de partie at R&D, sometimes it felt like people weren’t there to eat, and we weren’t serving food, just something to post on social media and call it a day.”
Askin nodded, “a meal is an experience,” he said, agreeing to what you were saying.
“Yes, exactly!” You exclaimed, “and I know how important atmosphere is to a fine dining restaurant, but the food should be an experience too. But it started to feel gimmicky.” You admitted, eyes lowered, ashamed of what you had revealed.
Askin hummed, stepping closer to you. He cupped your cheek in his hand, gently forcing you to look at him.
“Take a break, you deserve it.” Askin said, his voice measured and even, “but the culinary world would be at a loss losing someone like you. You deserve to share your gift with who you want to.” He said earnestly.
“Thank you,” you smiled, holding his hand to your face. Your eyes were pricking with tears threatening to fall, but you steeled yourself. “It really does mean a lot to me hearing you say that you know.”
“You need to be confident in your work again.” Askin said, as one tear rolled down your face, rubbing it away with his thumb. “Do you know how it feels when I ate something you made?” He whispered, his face inches away from yours.
“No…” resolving yourself to be more confident, you looked deep into his eyes.
Askin pressed his lips softly against yours, shocking you. As soon as you felt him about to kiss you deeper, he pulled away.
“Like this,” he murmured, before kissing you again, deeper than before.
His kisses became intense, and soon he began kissing his way down your neck, forcing you to gasp as you felt one hand work its way under your sweater, squeezing your breast.
“Wait,” you said softly, forcing Askin to stop. But before he could ask, you pulled your sweater over your head, your camisole falling after it. You tugged your pants down, kicking them away, leaving you in your undergarments.
Askin clicked his tongue in appreciation, stepping back and forming a rectangular frame of you with his fingers. He admired the matching set you wore, the lingerie suiting you perfectly he thought to himself.
“You’re wearing too much too, Askin.” You teased, coming closer to him.
“If the chef insists…” Askin joked, removing his clothes. You were surprised by how trim and lean he was, given his career, as you roamed your hands over his chest, but he pulled your hands away.
“Hey, I’m not done yet. You still don’t know how it feels.” Askin murmured, pushing you against the wall. He continued kissing you down, your breasts spilling out of your bra as he pinched your nipples. He travelled further down, before he was face-to-face with your lace covered pussy.
You pulled your underwear down, leaving your cunt bare for him. Askin spread your pussy lips and immediately latched on to your clit, earning a deep moan from you.
His pace was unforgiving as he alternated between firm sucks, to gentle nips, follow by one finger slipping inside you, then another. The unpredictable rhythm causing you to yelp, moan and scream his name as you threaded your hand into his hair, forcing his face closer to your weeping pussy.
Then your phone rang loudly in your pants pocket, a mere inches away from Askin. He pulled away from you, giving you a grin while your juices covered his lips and chin. He fished for your phone and handed it to, his grin deepened, as he clicked “answer.”
Your eyes bulge as you realized it was Kisuke on the line, but before you could push Askin off of you, he went back to your clit, forcing you to stifle your cries of pleasure.
“H-h-hello” you stuttered, trying to keep your voice even.
“Are you busy right now? I want to ask you one more time.” Kisuke said, going straight to the point.
“Y-ye” you stammered, before earning a harsh nip in your thigh from Askin, as he pulled away from you, his mouth so close to your clit.
“No, I’m free right now!” You yelped, giving Askin a pleading look. Askin smirked and gave your clit a soft lick in appreciation, then pushed his fingers back inside, his pace unrelenting.
“Will you come back as our Sous Chef?” Kisuke asked, his voice unusually stern.
Askin immediately buried his face in your pussy, his fingers stretching your wet hole, your clit throbbing from the ministrations from his mouth. You were so close, you thought you saw stars as Askin continued on, your legs trembling on his shoulders.
“Yes!” You shrieked, as Askin sucked harshly on your clit, the slick sound of your juices covering his fingers as he continued to pump his fingers in you.
“That’s great! I’ll email you the details later.” Kisuke’s voice laden with glee. “Great doing business with you.” And before you could say anything else, he hung up.
You threw your phone on to the ground, staring down at Askin. His face still firmly planted in between your thighs, as he continued eating you out. Your body rode out orgasm after orgasm, Askin’s pace never faltering.
You screamed his name, as you squirted all over him. “Atta girl, that’s what I mean” Askin said smugly, as he pulled himself up. Your legs were shaking and your body sensitive from the orgasms he ripped from you. But before you could catch yourself, Askin hoisted your legs over his hips and slammed his cock inside, earning another moan from you.
“Too… much” you panted then moaned, as his cock brushed the sensitive spot inside your pussy. You were seeing stars at this point, eyes rolling. Askin smiled to himself as he bounced you on his cock, the obscene sound filling your otherwise beautiful home. Your pussy squeezed his cock as another orgasm approached, earning a hiss from Askin.
“Keep squeezing my cock like this,” Askin panted, slamming his hips into you, “and I’m not gonna last.”
But you were too far gone, not realizing your hips were matching with his thrusts, as you whimpered, moaned and quivered around him. Askin closed his eyes, his eyebrows knitted in frustration as he felt his own orgasm approaching. His thrusts became more erratic, before he pulled out of you, rubbing his cock, his cum spraying the inside of your thighs.
You closed your eyes, trying to regain your breath, “thank – “
“Who said we were done? We haven’t even gotten to the main course.” Askin teased, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You let out a moan in appreciation, before taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom. He pushed you on to your bed, forcing your legs apart before he settled on your sensitive clit once again.
Maybe a “meal” like this is just what you needed, you thought, as Askin savoured your pussy once again.
The title for this on AO3 is from Shihoko Hirata's "Heaven" (Norihiko Hibino remix). This was a challenge to write because even though I had this idea running in my head for a while, I didn't necessarily know where I wanted to go with this. Nonetheless, I'm really happy with how this turned out!
Fun fact, the restaurant names are Michelin restaurants in Toronto (but the city this fic takes place in isn't Toronto [unless you want it to be lol]).
Happiest birthday to the man who can turn a casual conversation into a deadly encounter and his charm being dangerous as his ability!!Happiest birthday to my Gemini king!!!😮💨💜☣️✨️🟪♊️👑
