Giving ghost a portal pussy thinking you might finally get that rough, brutal sex you always crave while he's gone...
Only for him to spend his time making out with your cunt like it's your lips. Peppering sweet kisses to your clit, licking into you slow and warm, almost longing. Ghost is horribly sappy when he's away from you and just wants to give you kisses. He could spend hours with the portal pressed to his lips and a hand squeezing his bulge.
Half the time he doesn't even make you cum, or only takes you out to give you a quick peck. It's absolutely torture and the second he gets home you're tying him up in retaliation.
hear me out..angry husband!kento coming home from work catching u touching yourself..?
⁀➷ KENTO DENIES YOUR RELEASE ♡
the house is quiet when HUSBAND!KENTO steps through the door, the weight of a brutal workday clinging to him like damp fog. his tie’s already loosened, jacket slung over one arm, but his jaw’s tight, brows pinched—client meetings went south, and the office left him itching for control. he expects you in the kitchen, maybe humming over dinner, not… this. the faint sound hits him first—a soft, breathy moan drifting from the bedroom, pulling him like a taut wire.
he pauses at the doorway, shoulder against the frame, and his eyes narrow. you’re sprawled on the bed, sheets tangled around your ankles, one hand between your thighs, fingers working slow, slick circles. your other hand’s under his shirt—his shirt—pinching a nipple, head thrown back, lips parted as you chase release. you don’t see him, too lost, and that’s what snaps it. he clears his throat, sharp and loud, and your eyes fly open, a gasp choking in your throat.
“kento—” you stammer, yanking your hand away, thighs clamping shut, but it’s too late. he’s already stalking closer, tossing his jacket aside. his face is storm-dark, eyes burning, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips, mean and deliberate.
“couldn’t wait for me?” he says, voice low, edged with steel. he looms over you, one knee dipping the mattress, his hand snatching your wrist—the one still glistening with your arousal. he brings it to his face, inspecting it, then licks a stripe up your fingers, slow, tasting you while his gaze pins you down. “you know better.”
your cheeks flush, half-shame, half-need, but you try to hold his stare. “i… i missed you,” you whisper, hoping it softens him. it doesn’t. his grip tightens, and he pushes your wrist back, leaning down ‘til his breath scalds your lips.
“missed me?” he mocks, soft but biting. “then why’re you doing my job?” his hand’s between your legs before you can blink, fingers sliding through your wetness, spreading you open. you whimper, hips bucking, but he presses you down with his other hand, flat on your stomach, keeping you still. “stay,” he orders, like you’re a dog, and you do, trembling under him.
he’s merciless from the start—two fingers plunging deep, curling hard against that spot that makes you see stars, his thumb circling your clit with ruthless precision. “fuck, you’re soaked,” he growls, almost to himself, watching your body arch, chasing the high he’s building too fast. you’re close already, thighs shaking, breath hitching, and he knows it—his eyes flick up, catching every twitch of your face, savoring how desperate you look.
“kento, please,” you whine, hands clawing at the sheets, and he just chuckles, dark and low, pulling his fingers out just as you start to clench. you gasp, empty, aching, and he smirks, licking his fingers clean while you squirm. “no,” he says, simple, final. “you don’t get to cum ‘til i say.”
he’s relentless, starting again—fingers back inside, slower now, teasing, dragging you to the edge but stopping every time your moans get too loud, your body too tense. minutes bleed together, and you’re a mess—tears prick your eyes, hips grinding against his hand, begging without words. he spanks your thigh, sharp, making you yelp, and leans down, lips grazing your ear. “you think you deserve it?” he murmurs, voice like velvet over a blade. “touching yourself like a needy little thing while i’m gone?”
“i’m sorry,” you sob, but he’s already flipping you over, yanking your hips up, face pressed into the pillows. his mouth’s on you now, tongue lapping at your clit, sucking hard, and you scream, muffled, hands fisting the sheets. it’s too much, too good, but he pulls back every time you’re about to break, leaving you trembling, sobbing, so close it hurts.
“kento, please, let me—” you try, voice raw, but he cuts you off with another smack to your ass, lighter this time, almost playful. “no,” he says again, fingers tracing your folds, slow, deliberate, keeping you teetering on the edge without mercy. he’s relentless, dragging it out—sliding in deep, stopping short, circling your clit ‘til you’re bucking, only to pull away. your tears soak the pillow, body thrumming, every nerve screaming, and he watches, calm, controlled, savoring your desperation. “you wanna cum so bad, don’t you?” he taunts, thumb brushing your clit, too light, too brief. “should’ve thought of that before touching yourself.”
he keeps you there—minutes, hours, maybe longer—edging you ‘til you’re a wreck, thighs slick, voice gone. then he stops, abrupt, standing, adjusting his cuffs like nothing happened. “that’s for touching yourself without me,” he says, voice cold, final, leaving you throbbing and empty. you face’s tear streaked and his eyes soften, just a fraction, as he wipes a tear from your cheek. “you’re mine,” he murmurs, kissing you deep, letting you taste yourself. “don’t forget it.”
summary: Kakashi's first few months as Hokage have gone well—maybe too well. When he's sent on a trip to a neighboring nation, you give him a little assignment of your own.
Read on AO3
“The main issue is, I just don’t want to go.”
Kakashi laid in bed, his arm around you as he tried to enjoy the last night he would spend in his home for the coming week. Tomorrow, he was to begin his journey to the Hidden Grass Village, where he would spend five days evaluating their version of the shinobi academy and making suggestions for improvement in the hopes of advancing their methods.
“Sure I want to empower the Grass to become a major ninja village,” Kakashi continued, “But it’s never been the responsibility of any of the previous Kage to spend so much time away from their own village.”
“That’s true…” you began, drawing random patterns on his bare upper body with your fingertip, “but we’ve never had this environment of cooperation before.”
You were right, as usual. Kakashi exhaled and hugged you closer. “How am I supposed to spend six nights away from you?”
He didn’t see any issue with the idea of bringing you along—Shikamaru would be there as well—but when he mentioned it to the elders, Homura left no room for discussion.
This isn’t a vacation, Lord Sixth. Your time will be spent fostering positive relationships with our new allies—not sightseeing with your wife.
It was still ridiculous, but Kakashi knew that arguing the point further would get him nowhere. Worst case, it would result in an even longer time away. He was barely halfway through his first year as Hokage; still largely under the elders’ thumb. So Kakashi bit his tongue, keeping his harshest comments to himself until he made it home and was able to vent to you.
“I know,” you agreed. “It’s going to be miserable.”
Kakashi may have had less of an issue with the trip if it hadn’t been coming at the worst possible time. If his calculations were correct—and he was quite certain they were—you would be ovulating soon; probably peaking a day or two before he was due to return. Six months of marital bliss had supercharged his urge to grow his family and continue his line, and he was going to miss his prime opportunity to put a baby in you?? Completely unacceptable.
You were well aware of this particular hang up; the timing of the trip needling you as well. “Is there any chance you can get done early and make it home sooner?”
“I doubt it,” he admitted, feeling his muscles deflate with resignation. “It’s not like a mission, where I could re-strategize to complete the objective quicker.”
You hummed in understanding, letting your finger trace the shallow dips between his abs. “Then maybe, you’ll have to make up for it another way.”
That wandering fingertip started traveling down the valleys of his stomach, following the trail of soft silver hair leading to his waistband. His relaxed cock instantly jolted with excitement.
“If you have suggestions, I’d love to hear them.”
You let out a sultry giggle as you took that final leap, gently palming him over his briefs. Kakashi groaned and tilted his head back, enjoying your touch. You nuzzled your nose into his neck before beginning to trail kisses up his throat and along his jaw. “Every night,” you whispered, your lips tickling his earlobe, “I want you to touch yourself.”
Kakashi’s cock greedily twitched beneath the fabric. You reached inside his briefs, curling your fingers around his hardening shaft. “Touch yourself for me, and think about how I’ll be here, doing the same and thinking about you.”
Heavy breaths slipped through his lips as his blood rushed to that central point of pleasure, his cock fully erect in no time. Your touch always cut right to the liquid heat of his arousal, causing his mind to fog over and his eyes to roll back in his head.
“Y/N…” Kakashi groaned, your name a decadent prayer. You were pumping him just how he liked, precum already beading on his flushed cockhead.
“Make yourself feel good,” you purred as you slid his underwear down out of your way and continued to massage his heated flesh. “Pretend your hand is my cunt. Think about me riding you, bouncing on your lap, squeezing down on your cock.” You nibbled on his earlobe, panting into his skin as you rubbed your thighs together. “Work yourself up to the point that your balls are tight and your thighs are shaking.”
Fuck, he was nearly already there. “Haaa—how does this make up for the fact that we’re apart? I have a good imagination, but not good enough to actually make you appear.”
“Because, just when you’re about to cum…” You abruptly took your hand away, leaving his cock to throb unattended. “You’re gonna stop.”
The sudden loss of pleasure caused him to whine like a wounded animal. “Sweetheart,” he chuckled hollowly, “the trip is going to be bad enough as it is, and you want me to add physical torture to the mix.”
“Not exactly,” you laughed, kissing the warm skin of his cheek. “What I want,” you continued, taking him back in your hand, “is for you to edge yourself, so when you get back, you can release all that tension—all that cum—deep inside me.”
Those words alone in your lust-addled voice were enough to send him right back to the edge.
“Come home to me,” you continued, your lips brushing against his ear, “and fuck me until you can’t give me another drop.”
“Y/N…” he moaned. “I didn’t realize you had such a filthy mind.”
You giggled and sat up on your knees, leaving his cock unattended yet again. “So you’ll do it?”
The reward sure sounded good, but could he really get through a week like that? Kakashi had long been out of the habit of walking around pent-up and frustrated. You had him spoiled; accustomed to kissing you out of your clothes and fucking you on the smallest whim. Going without sex for the whole week was going to be difficult enough, and then edging the whole time sounded…
Well, pathetic, for lack of a better word.
“I don’t know Y/N—”
“Think about how good it will feel,” you added, beginning to rub him again, “when you finally come home and fuck a week’s worth of cum inside me. Where it belongs.”
Goosebumps prickled their way down his legs when you traced the pad of your thumb along the prominent vein that ran along nearly his entire length. Kakashi wanted to think of himself as a man in control; a man who was above such base actions as chasing an orgasm. He didn’t think with his dick. But fuck, when you touched him like this, he didn’t think at all.
And if it might work…
“I’ll try,” Kakashi said. “For you.”
You squealed in excitement, straddling his lap and wrapping your limbs around him—showing your appreciation in a flurry of kisses.
Kakashi reached between your legs and slowly ran his finger along the crotch of your panties. “We don’t have to start right away, do we?” The sticky wetness soaking the fabric was proof enough that you’d gotten yourself just as worked up as him. “I mean, I’m still here tonight. No reason to hold back yet, is there?”
You kissed him again; more slowly this time as you pressed your chest against his and let him slide your panties down your thighs. “Impatient man…”
-
Most of the next day was wasted in transit; surrounded by ANBU guards on the journey to the Village Hidden in the Grass. Upon arrival, Kakashi was met by the Grass’s head ninja and a few of their trusted companions. They only had time for a brief tour before Kakashi and Shikamaru were yawning and looking for where they could turn in for the night. The head ninja showed them to their private rooms and informed them what time they could expect to pick back up tomorrow.
One of the ANBU shinobi placed Kakashi’s bag on the floor before walking back out to stand guard. No matter how peaceful things appeared in the wake of the Fourth Great Shinobi War, it seemed he wouldn’t be able to enjoy any solitude outside the village; other than when he was meant to be sleeping.
But he had something to do before sleep, didn’t he?
Kakashi sighed and flopped down on his back on the bed, appreciating the accommodations the Grass had provided. The room was clean, spacious, and comfortable. It made him feel more than a little guilty for what he was about to do in it. But he’d made you a promise, and he was not a man who would break a promise to you.
He removed his gloves and forehead protector, placing them on the nightstand. His vest followed, laid out on the unused pillow so he could throw it back on quickly if necessary. With a deep breath, Kakashi unbuttoned his pants and pushed them halfway down his thighs. His briefs were quick to follow, exposing himself in the dark room.
His cock was completely flaccid; a rather uninspiring sight considering the task you’d given him. Kakashi half-heartedly began touching himself, trying to work himself up despite his awkwardness in the unfamiliar setting. Masturbating on an assignment was something he’d made sure not to develop a habit of. Aside from a few dire exceptions, Kakashi had always waited until a mission was complete and he was back home to find relief; either alone or—far more preferably—with you.
Kakashi closed his eyes and pictured you; the sparkle in your eyes when you wanted him, the way your body moved in your efforts to entice him. You never failed; every single time Kakashi would be drawn to you like a moth to a flame—hard within minutes and throbbing throughout the foreplay.
Yet what he was experiencing now was more like kneading a lump of dough through his disinterested fingers.
He exhaled heavily, throwing his hand to the side and covering his eyes with the other arm. Maybe it just wasn’t going to happen. Kakashi felt way too inside of his own head—he couldn’t relax enough to let go; let his body react the way he wanted. The way you wanted.
He reached into the inner compartment of his pack, where he’d secreted away his favorite Icha Icha volume. Nothing like a comfort item when spending an extended time away from home. He was counting on the book to help him keep his promise, but his brow furrowed when he felt something else hidden beside the book.
Kakashi’s entire body flushed when he pulled out the object and found himself holding a pair of your panties; dainty black lace, suspiciously similar to the pair you were wearing last night.
Did she…?
His suspicions were confirmed when he touched the gusset and found a little patch that was still wet from his prior ministrations. Feeling that gooey discharge on his thumb finally made his dick twitch with interest and drew a shaky breath from his lungs.
If these had been found in his possession at a bad time, it would have been hard to explain. His Icha Icha habit was already a given, but if anyone had found him walking around with your used panties…
Who knew the Sixth Hokage’s wife was such a filthy little vixen?
The thrill sent a shock straight from his brain through his heart and down to his dick. The traitorous appendage was quickly swelling with blood, leaving him light-headed and needy. Kakashi instinctively brought the dirty panties to his face and inhaled through both his nose and mouth. The scent of your cunt made his cock throb for attention. His free hand gripped his length, squeezing the hardened shaft and tugging upward, clear precum already beading at the flushed tip.
“Y/N,” he moaned, softly enough to be sure no one could overhear. “Baby… fuck.” He took another deep breath that made his mouth water. The previous apprehension behind his movements melted away as lewd memories and the overwhelming scent of your pheromones possessed him to move at a feverish, undignified pace.
Just like that, the Sixth Hokage was officially reduced to a panty-sniffing pervert.
Gods, he felt like a shameful deviant but he didn’t care. You’d given him exactly what he needed—everything you could give without giving him yourself in person. Kakashi grunted and bucked his hips into his fist as he thought of everything he would do to you when he got his hands on you again.
He imagined being inside you; feeling the soft heat of you wrapped around his cock. Hearing you whine and sigh in pleasure, whispering sweet nothings to each other, holding you close and fucking deeper and deeper into you. Filling you with cum, knocking you up.
Putting his baby in you.
Fucking breeding you.
You were his—all his. But it wasn’t enough; not until he had you round-bellied with his child. Living, visible proof of who you belonged to and who you’d given your body to. All for the future of his clan; now your clan as well, evidenced by the ring he’d been honored to place on your finger.
Without command, his tongue leapt from his mouth and lapped at the gusset of your panties, tasting the sweet tang of your pussy. Your taste drove him wild. He clamped his teeth down on the fabric, a moan tearing its way up his throat as the muscles in his pelvis suddenly tightened.
Kakashi quickly stopped, interrupting the orgasm by pinching the bottom of his cockhead and tugging his balls away from his body. He stayed that way for a minute or two until he caught his breath. When he let go, his flesh was red and angry; resentful of the last-second denial. A cramp lodged in his stomach and his heart pounded against the walls of his chest while sweat dripped down his brow, stinging his eye.
He let out a series of controlled, steadying breaths. Though his muscles relaxed and his heart rate settled, his cock still hung heavy against his stomach, twitching in frustration. Resigned, he acknowledged that his original assessment was indeed true.
Until he had his hands on you again, this would be nothing short of torture.
-
As he had expected, Kakashi hadn’t been able to rush through the week. He did however manage to stay on schedule, spending each of the five days meeting with high-ranking officials and offering what he predicted would be valuable insight to enhance their training methods. Most likely, they would be on their way to becoming a Great Nation in no time. By all rights, it was a successful week.
Despite this, Kakashi couldn’t find any pride in his promising efforts. Not when he was spending his nights edging himself into a sleepless, irritable mess.
By the time he and his subordinates returned to Konoha, Kakashi felt tense enough to snap. Even the softest breeze made his hair stand on end. He wanted to run straight home and work all his frustrations out in bed with you, but an obligatory stop at Hokage Tower put him on an even tighter delay. He gave his report to the elders, seated behind his desk, adjusting his legs every two seconds in a vain attempt at finding relief.
He wasn’t even sure what he’d told them about his time in the Hidden Grass. All he knew was that he needed to get to you, before his body staged an all-out mutiny.
The front door of his shared home with you was like a beacon, guiding him to the place he’d been trying to get back to ever since he left. To say that he was eager to get inside would be an understatement. Inside the house—inside you. His anticipation was so high that his hands shook as he attempted to unlock the door. Even the act of sliding the key into the lock felt pornographic.
Briefly, he worried he might not make it. That he would get all the way home, just to cum untouched on his doorstep.
The door swung open halfway, revealing the welcome sight of you; dressed comfortably in a silky pastel house robe that didn’t even reach halfway down your thighs. Visions of tearing through the intricately-tied obi and taking you right on the floor assaulted his mind even as you started to speak.
“Kakashi,” you grinned, turning his name into something wholly indecent. “There you are. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it back today.”
Kakashi shouldered his way through the threshold, dropping his bags only to immediately wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in. He held you tight against his body, letting you feel his demanding erection pressed against your stomach. “Nothing could have kept me from getting back to you,” he answered, the rumble in his voice exposing just how eager and desperate he was.
“Come on,” he purred, picking you up with ease and wrapping your legs around his waist. “We’re going to bed.”
“A-already?” you giggled as he started walking, his erection brushing against your core with every step he took. “You just got home.”
Kakashi hummed a low sound of amusement as he reached his destination, stopping at the foot of the bed. “And what does that matter?” he countered before abruptly tossing you down on your back—smirking at the way your body bounced on the surface of the mattress.
“I’ve been preparing all week,” he said as he made quick work of removing all the clothes covering his upper body. “If you think I’m going to continue to wait, you’re sorely mistaken.”
A bright, excited smile spread across your face as you sat up on your knees. “Do you think it worked?”
“Well, if my aching balls are any indication—”
“Kakashi!”
“What?” He might have laughed at the scandalized look on your face. You’d never known him to be so blunt and explicit, but the tight, needy feeling between his legs overrode his sense of decorum. “My balls are aching; they’re full, and they’re tired of being edged.”
“You poor man,” you teased before sliding off the mattress, arranging yourself on your knees before him. “Let’s see what we can do about that.”
Kakashi’s dick throbbed as your pretty fingers worked open the fastening of his pants and pulled them down his legs. A sharp hiss escaped his mouth when you dragged his briefs over his sensitive flesh. His cock stood straight up, allowing you to see every lurid detail.
“Oh—!” you squeaked, your eyes locked on his swollen balls and darkened tip. You tentatively reached forward, drawing your index finger up the length of his cock, causing the tender organ to twitch away from your touch.
“I think my dick is a little upset with you,” he smirked. “Holding back for that long was hell.”
“I’m so sorry,” you cooed, still addressing his petulant cock. “Maybe it was too long…”
“Absolutely it was too long.”
“Come here, I’ll make it better.” You leaned forward to kiss the tip of his cock, sending a wave of fire through his veins. The soft pink of your tongue poked out of your mouth and Kakashi knew you were getting ready to pamper him with that pretty mouth to make up for the effects of your over-the-top request. But he couldn’t let you. If you treated his cock with a shower of kisses like you normally would, Kakashi was sure he would bust right on your face and chest; defeating the whole purpose, no matter how sexy it was to think about.
No, he had a job to do. He just needed to buy himself some time to cool off.
Fingers tangling in your hair, Kakashi gently held you back—waiting for your gorgeous eyes to look up at him. “If you really want to make it up to me, I think it’s time I call the shots.” He tilted his head up and gestured to the bed with his chin. “Get back up there and let me see what you’ve been doing for the past week.”
You blushed and broke eye contact. “Kakashi…”
“Don’t act so shy when you snuck your dirty panties into my bag,” he chided, gently tugging your hair to make you face him again. “Show me.”
With a coy smile, you eased yourself back up on the bed, lying on your back to give him a good view. He watched as you untied your obi with the same care you’d used on his clothes, then tossed the belt to the side and let the robe fall open to expose your bare body.
Fuck, he would never get tired of that; seeing you put your perfect form on display for him. Kakashi exhaled deeply, his eyes roaming over you despite his need to calm his racing libido. But you were so beautiful, and it was his privilege as your husband to look at you any way he wanted. Especially when you’d put so much effort into what you wore to welcome him home… and what you didn’t wear underneath it.
“No panties?” he grinned. “Such a good girl.”
You blushed. “You like that?”
Kakashi tilted his head and gently gripped your calves, massaging his way up your legs. “Normally I prefer to take them off of you myself, but after last week, I think I’ve spent enough time with the contents of your underwear drawer.” His thumb barely swiped over your entrance, but your needy hole still quivered at his touch. “I’m glad you agree.”
“What did you do to them?” you giggled.
He leaned in closer, softly inhaling the clean scent of your soap and watching as wetness started visibly dripping from your cunt. “I ruined them,” he answered evenly. “I smelled them and I licked them and I wrapped them around my cock, and I would have cum in them if I hadn’t been saving every drop for you.”
Heat rose in your cheeks, making it painfully obvious to the lauded shinobi just how much it turned you on to think of your husband acting like a shameful pervert behind closed doors. He left a romantic kiss on your hip bone before leaning back.
“But enough about me,” he teased. “How did my beautiful wife spend her nights?”
You shifted for friction, held open by his wide palms. His discerning eyes watched every shift and ripple of muscle, savoring the way you were still so bashful under his scrupulous inspection. Curiously, he ran the rough pad of his thumb up the length of your slit once more, coaxing your clit out to play.
His breath fanned over you at the sight of your bundle of nerves, nearly as red as his cock.
“Y/N, your poor little clit is practically raw.”
You let out a whine. “I missed you, and when I thought about what you were doing at night…”
A low, dangerous laugh spilled from his lips. “My dirty girl. You were probably rubbing yourself, making a mess and cumming all over those gorgeous fingers right at the same time I was squeezing right under the head of my cock to make sure I didn’t finish. Burying that need to cum. All for you.”
“Kakashi…”
“Show me how you did it,” he commanded. “I want to watch you touch yourself.”
Your hand slowly made its way down your body. You might have thought that dragging it out would get you off the hook, but it only served Kakashi’s purpose. He kept his gaze and breathing even as you finally reached between your legs, gathering a bit of arousal on the pad of your middle finger before moving up to find your clit. The first touch made you jump and pulled a sweet little sigh from your lungs.
“Is it sore?”
“No,” you shook your head, “not too much.”
His chest vibrated with a dark, pleased hum. “Good girl. Now rub it for me.”
Kakashi urged you on with only his eyes, his pupils dilated like a predator’s. Your fingertip carefully outlined your clit, pushing it back and forth with indirect pressure.
“That’s right,” he panted. “Circles just like those. Is that how you did it?”
“Mhmm,” you whined.
“Keep going. A little faster.”
Your thighs twitched as you followed his instruction, winding your finger around your clit at a quicker pace. A drop of clear arousal gathered between your folds and started dripping down your cunt. He wanted to lap those sweet juices right out of your hole—to eat your precious little cunt until you were sobbing for his cock. He nearly gave in, before he noticed your free hand absently grasping the bedsheet.
“Mm-mm,” he shook his head. He looked from your hand to your bare breasts. “Your tits. Play with them.”
Pink heat spread over your chest as you released the sheet, instead putting your palm over your breast. Kakashi’s cock ached as he watched you pet and pinch your nipple until it stood at a proud peak. You moaned and moved to the other one, bucking your hips as much as you could against his iron grip.
“Pretty girl…” he breathed. “Does that feel good?”
“Yes…”
“Stick your fingers in your cunt. One, to start.”
You moaned again as your hand swiftly abandoned your clit to find your neglected pussy. You slid your middle finger in to the second knuckle, crying out at the feeling of something finally filling your empty core. Your back arched off the bed as you started pumping your finger in and out.
“Ah ah ah,” Kakashi tsked. “Not so fast. Slow down.”
He smirked at your defiant little whine, knowing that no matter how much you pouted, you would always do what he said. Without any further objection, you corrected your pace down to the languid strokes he preferred. “Mmmm that’s a good girl. Now add another.”
Through meticulous orders, he worked you up almost as skillfully as if he’d been touching you himself—which he still would have preferred, of course, but the naughty show you were putting on might become a staple for future foreplay.
“You’re fucking beautiful, Y/N. Did you look this beautiful every night, or is this special for me?”
For a few minutes, he just watched—forgetting all about his tortuous week and simply reveling in how lucky he felt to be yours. Kakashi knew too well how easily he might have ended up alone, assuming he managed to survive in the first place. But somehow you found him and got through his thick skull, putting your stamp on his heart. Showing him everything love could be. And no matter how many years passed with you by his side, he still felt the need to make the most of every second.
Enough dragging it out. He wanted you now.
Kakashi crawled onto the bed and lunged forward to suck your unattended nipple into his mouth. You whimpered as he ran his hot tongue over the pebbled bud, groans vibrating in his throat while he mercilessly sucked on your soft skin. He suddenly swatted your hand from between your legs and released you with a pop, hovering over you and grabbing you by the waist.
“You better not be too tender to handle me, Y/N.” His hot cock rested on your stomach, weeping precum. “I can’t wait any longer.”
His cock dragged down your body, leaving a sticky trail down your tummy—a promise of what was to come. A little lower and his tip slid over your sensitive clit, causing you to squirm as he notched his tip at your dripping entrance.
“Don’t run from me,” he exhaled, holding you firmly in place. “Be good for your husband.”
Kakashi’s hands tightened on your waist as he pushed his hips forward, forcing your folds to part and accommodate the fat crown of his cock. He let out an indulgent groan, but he instantly stopped moving when you answered with a breathy moan in his ear.
Fuck, you couldn’t make noise like that; he could easily cum just from those gorgeous sounds alone. As much as he loved them, he needed you to shut up if you wanted him to last.
He brought one hand up to cover your mouth. “Shhhhh baby…” He chuckled at the mixture of confusion and desire in your eyes. “Just… give me a second.”
With a doting kiss to your forehead, Kakashi pressed deeper inside, enjoying the way your cunt stretched around him until his entire length was seated comfortably inside your warmth. He brought his hands up to cradle your head, pulling your mouth to his and kissing you deeply. Then he leaned away just enough to look at you.
“You have no idea how bad I need this.”
Kakashi spoke the words against your lips, giving you no chance to respond before his covetous tongue slid into your mouth. He groaned as he kissed you and carefully pulled his hips back just to thrust back in. The sudden motion made you toss your head back and gasp, grabbing at his thighs.
“Fuuuuuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, burying his face in your neck as he started to pump in earnest, pounding you into the mattress. “Missed this pussy so much. Can’t believe I had to settle for fucking my hand that whole time.”
“What…” you challenged breathlessly, “now that you’re Hokage you’re too good to touch yourself?”
The mouth on you; teasing him even though he was balls deep in your little hole, your body bouncing under the force of his thrusts. “As a matter of fact, that’s exactly right.” He sat back on his heels and lifted your legs to give himself better access. “Why would I touch myself when I have my pretty little wife at home to touch me?”
He leaned down again, lording over you with a captivating presence. “Besides,” he taunted, folding you into a proper mating press with his hands behind your knees. “We’re trying to have a baby, aren’t we? So I would have to be a fool to cum anywhere other than inside your sweet little cunt.” Kakashi nipped at your lower lip. “You don’t think I’m a fool, do you Y/N?”
Your response came out in broken breaths. “O-of course n-not.”
“Of course not,” he crooned back at you, grinning as he wrapped his arms around you again. “Such a good girl.”
Kakashi nuzzled his face into your neck, appreciating the feel of you in his arms after so long. The scent of your clean skin welcomed him home far more than the sight of Konoha’s gate ever did. “Gods, I fucking missed you.”
He resumed his indulgent thrusts; taking and taking until he felt tingly with bliss. Determination and stamina were the only things keeping him from spilling inside you too quickly as he fucked you greedily; selfishly. No amount of imagination and practiced touch would ever come close to the feeling he got by being inside you. His cock was finally back where it belonged, and he was going to use your pussy to wring every ounce of pleasure he could.
“I never stopped thinking about you. Missing you. Wanting you.” He panted heavily, gulping down air in time with the harsh slaps of his full, angry balls against your skin. “I love you Y/N. Wanna fucking breed you.”
“Please—” you gasped, smattering kisses along his bicep and shoulder. “Kashi… give me a baby.”
He pawed all over you, his wide hands eventually settling on your hips to make you meet his thrusts. He renewed his assault of kisses on your neck, hoping he might accidentally leave a few hickeys in his wake. Anything to enforce his claim on you and remind the village who you belonged to, no matter how long a mission might keep him away. He would always, always come back to you.
“I made you my wife. And now… I’m gonna make you a mother.” He kissed his way back to your mouth and nuzzled his nose against yours. “You’re gonna take such good care of my babies. And I’m gonna take care of you.”
You whimpered a cute little sound before hugging him around his neck, gasping praises and promises of love while he pounded away at your helpless cunt. The pressure in his groin was approaching the tipping point.
“Gods, I’m close,” he groaned and gritted his teeth. His balls tightened and for a second, he was afraid he’d be denied yet again. “Please—Let me put my baby in you.”
You crossed your ankles behind his waist, caging him in close and throwing one hand down to grip the sheet. “Fill me… Kashi please—love you…”
“I love you so much,” he babbled, feeling the telltale tremor between his legs. “Love you so much. I’m gonna put a baby in you. You’re gonna have my baby. Fuck, Y/N, I love you so much.”
Stars burst across Kakashi’s vision as his long-awaited orgasm ripped through him. A deep, indulgent groan of pure satisfaction climbed its way up his throat. His heartbeat echoed at the base of his cock, the muscles pulsing with burst after burst of his sticky white seed, filling you to the brim. Kakashi pressed his palm flat against your lower tummy, holding you down as he buried his cock in deep.
“Gods—” He kept you bent at the sharp angle, fucking his load deeper inside you even as more continued to leak from his tip, searching for your womb. “Take it.”
Kakashi panted as he finally came down, looking at where your bodies remained intimately joined. The base of his cock glistened with a creamy ring of your arousal; your lips pink and puffy, your clit still swollen with blood.
You mindlessly rocked your hips, coaxing him for more friction. With an adoring smile, Kakashi leaned down on one elbow and slid his hand between your bodies, pressing his thumb into your clit and toying with it exactly how he knew you liked. You whimpered, grabbing for him as your cunt squeezed around his cock.
“That’s right,” he exhaled, his voice nearly betraying how exhausted the orgasm had left him. “Isn’t it so much better when it’s my fingers on you?”
You nodded furiously; your face tucked against his shoulder.
“Tell me, Y/N,” he softly requested. “Be good for me, and I’ll make you cum.”
“It’s so much better,” you whined. “It’s not the same when I do it. N-needed you…”
Kakashi smirked and closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss while he increased his pressure and rubbed a focused pattern into your bundle of nerves. Your thighs quivered, still locking him in place. He resumed fucking you at a lazy pace, pumping the root of his cock back and forth for more stimulation.
Suddenly you whimpered against him, digging your nails into his back. The muscles inside your pussy squeezed him as you fell apart around his dick, milking one more spurt of cum from his balls with a satisfying pang. He let you break the kiss, both of you gasping for breath.
“That’s right, Y/N. Take all that cum and turn it into a baby,” he panted. “You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”
You whined and nodded, trembling from the ache in your thighs. He brushed his nose against yours.
“Such a good girl. Make a baby for us.”
Kakashi couldn’t help himself; he leaned back in to kiss you again. He loved you; he loved you so fucking much. Tightness swelled in his chest for how much he loved you. Every day, he was hit with this feeling; where he was living a life that seemed impossible for so long. When he thought of all the times he could have lost his life—lost this future—it made his throat itch. He used to be such an idiot. How the hell that past led him to you and this incredible promise of even more on the horizon, he had no clue. But he hadn’t taken a single day in your heart for granted. He knew he was never entitled to anything, least of all the love you constantly showed him.
When he backed off to let you breathe, you started to brace your hands on the mattress to adjust your position. Though he knew you had to be sore, he decisively held you in place.
“Wait—hold still,” he whispered. “Don’t move yet. Let’s make sure it takes.”
You nodded up at him, somehow both giddy and content. But there was a knowing look in your gaze too. “Kakashi, you’re exhausted. Lie down and relax.”
“I will,” he smiled. “Just another minute.”
He traced a delicate line down your body, lingering over your stomach and imagining what the next few months might hold. He couldn’t wait to grow his family and see the Hatake name rise to even a shadow of its former prominence. And the fact that he would share that future with you still seemed too impossibly good to be true.
“Y/N,” he exhaled as he gently folded his body over yours. “You’re the love of my life.”
Emotions caught in your throat as you hugged him, careful not to shift your hips so that you could keep both him and his spend securely inside you. “You’re the love of mine, Kakashi.”
He cupped your head in his palm and kissed you until he couldn’t keep himself upright any longer. Slowly, Kakashi pulled back his hips, freeing his sated cock and making sure his cum didn’t follow. He feathered gentle kisses along your leg before gently letting them down on the bed. You groaned at the relief in your muscles, still slightly out of breath. Then you turned on your side, keeping your hips aligned so that none of his seed would leak out.
Kakashi laid down behind you, settling in for the restful sleep he could finally find now that you were in his arms. He rested his left hand over your tummy, spreading his fingers over your skin to protect the baby he was all but certain was beginning to grow there.
“I’m so lucky,” he muttered into your hair. “You’re going to be the most incredible mother. For my babies. Gods, how did I get so lucky?”
You hummed and put your palm over his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “You’re going to be an amazing father.”
Kakashi’s heart thrummed in his chest. “You really think so?” He figured he would never fully shake his fears that he would fail to be the father his children deserved, but he knew before they even existed that he would do anything for them. He only hoped the things within his power would be enough.
“I know you will,” you replied, lifting his hand to kiss his palm, then placing it lovingly back over your tummy. “I can’t wait to raise a family with you.”
“Neither can I,” he answered with a kiss to your temple. “Thank you… for giving me the chance.”
“Of course,” you murmured adoringly. “There’s nothing more I want in the world.”
At first, you thought you were hallucinating. The flash of white hair, the big, cocky smile, the blindfold already pulled down, hanging loose around his neck.
Gojo Satoru was on your doorstep, one foot positioned in the threshold, ready to prevent the door from being closed in his face.
You still tried.
The door didn't even scuff his shoe, bouncing harmlessly off of his Infinity.
“Gonna let me come inside?” Gojo grinned. “Or do I need to convince you?”
reposted from ao3, this is a what if scenario from a long fic so there's no context but the reader has a dream based technique <3.
If Satoru had known that watching you so closely would make him feel like this, he might have thought better of ever starting. Once a day had quickly become twice, which had more quickly become every hour, and then even more rapidly devolved into every free minute.
Satoru could cope when it came to your normal routine. He could fit you into the gaps in his life, get his little hits of you while he couldn’t have you completely, and mostly function normally.
But now, knowing exactly how you felt, it was becoming too much to bear. The idea that you wanted Satoru even a fraction as much as he wanted you was all-consuming. It plagued his every waking moment, the fantasy he wanted to make reality dangling before him.
It was agony. Debilitating.
He needed to do something about it.
At first, Satoru had only planned to linger in the next room while you indulged in yourself. He was merely intending to listen in, to watch more closely than he was typically able as you fell apart with his name on your lips.
You were lying on your bed, fingers skating over the fabric of your blue, cotton panties, teasing yourself with light touches. You were taking it slow this time, unhurried in your movements. You released a breathy sigh, circling your clit gently, your toes curling in anticipation.
Satoru's pace was different. He skipped palming himself through his pants altogether, pulling out his leaking cock to fuck his fist with feral desperation. There was something distinctly animal about it; the rush he felt seeing you this way, the way his hips bucked into his own touch, how urgent the need to make you his became when he saw you this way.
But Satoru was the strongest, right? He could hold out. He could be good. He could resist the urge to hold you down and fuck the living daylights out of you.
He didn’t want to though.
Not after he saw you reach into the drawer and pull out something he had never seen you use before.
Satoru was familiar with your toys; he had spent a significant amount of time with them between sizing himself up and putting them in his mouth, hoping that you had done a poor job cleaning them.
This one was new. A dildo, made of high density, medical grade, silicone rubber. Enormous. Bright purple. Complete with realistic balls and a suction cup.
Much larger and way more lewd than anything else you owned.
You were doing a horrifically insufficient job preparing yourself; your fingers were absolutely not big enough to stretch you out properly on their own.
Satoru knew right then he wasn't going to be able to handle just watching anymore.
He barely remembered to put himself back into his pants before teleporting to your doorstep.
Satoru rapped his knuckles against your front door, watching you startle through your walls. You were surprisingly fast getting yourself together, which was good, because the anticipation was threatening to give Satoru a heart attack.
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You knew you weren’t going to be able to focus on anything productive like this. That obnoxiously large bouquet made it impossible to forget Gojo Satoru had been inside your home, and though your thorough inspection had not resulted in any additional evidence, you were sure that his presence was more pervasive than you could confirm.
Gojo was undoubtedly watching you. How closely and how often, you couldn’t know, but it was more than enough for him to always be at the forefront of your mind.
So it only made sense that even when you decided to relieve the stress he was causing you, you couldn't keep Gojo out of your thoughts.
You once read a theory that sometimes people develop kinks due to traumatic experiences, because having control over the narrative can be healing. And sexy. Or something.
Whatever.
You didn't care why you were drawn to fantasizing about Gojo. Did you really need to justify it? He was ridiculously attractive, you wanted him before he exercised his infinite power over you, and you still wanted him now after everything he had been doing.
So, it didn't matter. The outcome was the same either way.
You, writhing on your bed, trying endlessly to sate a creature obsessed with reliving a dream.
It wasn't working. Fingers had failed you, and so had your usual trusty toys. Everything left you half-satisfied, empty and aching for something you knew it was probably best to not seek out.
Which led you to your latest purchase.
After an extremely underwhelming orgasm, you had found yourself browsing an online sex shop for something a little more comparable to the bulge in Gojo's pants.
The toy felt obscene in your hands. Longer, thicker, and significantly more intimidating than anything you had ever tried, that purple dildo was your last hope in a desperate situation.
It honestly scared you a little.
You were trying to keep things simple this time, trying to use a gentle approach, but it just wasn't giving you what you needed.
So now you were naked, teasing your nipples and pushing your fingers inside yourself, attempting to not think about how much better your new toy would feel, only to find that it had become all you could think about.
That toy had become a representation of what you could have had: Gojo's fat cock, approximately eight inches deep inside of you.
You now dreamt about Gojo almost every time you slept, and with each iteration of your strange dreams, the man had only become more twisted. Though he had never presented as anything less than verifiably horny, Gojo's more recent appearances were exceedingly depraved.
Dreams that had once been hours-long interrogations now more and more often devolved into fairly simple, linear question sessions that almost always resulted in you confessing and repeatedly reaffirming your growing desire for Gojo.
It was like you were being brainwashed by your own brain. How were you supposed to get over this obsession when your need was renewed each time you slept?
You glanced at the drawer that held your toys.
Using the dildo was a forgone conclusion, that was something you had understood when you clicked ‘add to cart’, you just figured you might have held out a little longer.
It still felt impossibly big in your hands; you weren't sure if it would even fit, length or girth-wise.
That wasn't going to stop you though, not when all you could think about was how Gojo had been “accidentally” dry-humping you in your last dream while you tried to concentrate on your game of Mancala.
You had been in his lap, his arms wrapped possessively around your waist, his head on your shoulder, his breath against your cheek. That alone was enough to have your heart beating double-time, but it had taken everything in you to not moan each time Gojo shifted just enough to drag you against his hardened length. Gojo had much less shame; each time he ground against you he had whimpered pathetically.
As you reimagined the event, you found that the thought alone was enough to eliminate the need for lubricant entirely, even considering the massive thing you were about to attempt to shove–
You nearly screamed in frustration when you heard the knock on your door.
Cursing the world and everything in it, you threw on a dress that had been lying discarded by your closet, and raced to your front door to deal with whoever had the audacity to interrupt you.
At first, you thought you were hallucinating. The flash of white hair, the big, cocky smile, the blindfold already pulled down, hanging loose around his neck.
Gojo Satoru was on your doorstep, one foot positioned in the threshold, ready to prevent the door from being closed in his face.
You still tried.
The door didn't even scuff his shoe, bouncing harmlessly off of his Infinity.
“Gonna let me come inside?” Gojo grinned. “Or do I need to convince you?”
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“Am I interrupting something?” Of course, Satoru knew exactly what he was interrupting. He just wanted to see you squirm. He was standing in your foyer now, closing the front door and locking the deadbolt behind him.
“Yes, actually.” You snapped, clearly flustered. “And it's something I need to get back to so–”
“Oh, is it something urgent?” Satoru asked. “Do you want help?” Satoru had gotten to know you well over the course of his many meetings with you; you were feigning irritation to cover your nervous surprise. He watched you back up several steps, following you as you retreated toward your bedroom.
“I don’t need help with this.” You insisted, pushing the cracked bedroom door all the way open, revealing your mussed bed and offending objects. Satoru took in the room like it was the first time, deliberately ignoring the items in which he was most interested. Soft lights, soft bedding, soft decor. The room looked almost exactly like the last time he had paid it a visit, though he planned to violate your space in an entirely different way now.
Satoru finally allowed his eyes to fall on your new toy, his jaw clenching as he realized it looked even bigger up close.
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You didn't know why you led Gojo directly to your bedroom. You weren’t going to think about it either, not now, and not ever if you could help it. Maybe it was an instinctive understanding that there was nothing you could do about the conclusion of his visit. Maybe it was your addled, aroused, idiot brain forgetting that this wasn’t a dream, but instead an actual encounter with an insane man who was actively stalking you.
Maybe none of that mattered to you, and you were just doing exactly what you wanted to do.
“Playing without me?” Gojo asked, nodding toward your bed. “I'm hurt, baby, I thought we had something special going.”
He was trying to sound like he was joking, but Gojo was clearly affected by your new toy. It was plain as day, jealousy written all over his face. He couldn't take his eyes off the purple monstrosity laying on your bedside table.
“Sorry to disappoint.” You smiled tightly, honestly unsure what to make of the intentions of the man before you. Your experience with Gojo led you to believe he was someone who quickly switched from serious to silly, a volatile person with unpredictable triggers and no conceivable patterns of behavior beyond fulfilling his most current whims.
“It’s okay, I already thought of a way you can make it up to me.” Gojo stepped even closer, his fingers tracing the thin strap of your dress. He looked you up and down, watching your every reaction to his touch.
He was looking at you like you were something to eat.
“Yeah?” You asked, frozen under Gojo's penetrating stare.
“Mmm-hmm.” Gojo hummed.
He wanted you. And you knew that he knew you wanted him. There was a growing tension between you, a spring that only coiled tighter with each moment those desires went unrealized.
You were afraid that any sudden movement would set him off, and you were terrified by how much you wanted that to happen.
“You gonna be good for me?” Gojo asked. “Or are you gonna make me work for it?”
You sucked in a breath.
“I don't mind either way.” Gojo claimed. The look in his eye told a different story. Gojo looked like he wanted you to push back, like he needed to be able to put you back in your place to feel (relatively) sane again.
Who were you to deny him his fun?
“Well, if you don't mind either way, then–”
You didn't even get to finish your sentence before Gojo threw you halfway across the bedroom onto your bed. You heard the frame crack beneath you, felt the sag in your mattress as Gojo clambered on top of you.
“Gojo-” You gasped.
“I'll buy you a new one-” Gojo muttered, mouth flush against your neck. He pressed his nose into the space behind your ear and inhaled deeply, shuddering as you struggled beneath him.
You could hardly breathe under the weight of the suffocating need of the man above you. You pushed your hands against Gojo’s chest trying to create some space, only to find your wrists captured, arms stretched high above your head. You kicked, and Gojo retaliated, dropping more of his weight onto you, rolling his hips against yours.
The feeling of Gojo's warm body on you was enough to cloud your mind, emptying your head of thoughts of resistance entirely.
“Fuck-” You whined.
“Maybe if you had been sweet for me we could have~” Gojo cooed. “But since you decided to tease me–”
Gojo trailed his fingers up the inside of your thighs, a strangled groan escaping his lips as he found the wetness that had begun rolling down them the moment he barged into your home.
“Well, maybe I can go easy on you this time, yeah?” Gojo pushed himself up and leaned back on his heels, pulling your dress up to get a better look at your bare body beneath. “I'll forgive you after tonight, okay, baby?” He was grinning like a madman, his free hand splayed out over your belly.
“I-I didn't even do anything-!” You protested, your stomach flipping as Gojo's hand slid down it.
“You can deny it all you want, but the evidence is right here.” Gojo cupped your dripping sex, drawing his two middle fingers up your center. “You were touching what's mine.”
“That's–”
Gojo pushed those two fingers inside you as deep as he could go, sinking in until his palm was flush against you. You cried out, whatever case you had planned on making instantly emptied from your mind.
“You’re all wet, but I wasn’t even here until just now.” Gojo mused, watching your back arch off the bed as he curled his fingers. “I'm curious what you were thinking about doing. You wanna explain yourself?”
“Why does it –aahh–why does it even matter?” You were hardly able to finish your thought; with each word you spoke, Gojo ground his hand a little harder against your center. Your hips bucked into his touch, greedily seeking more even as he obliged. “It’s like you said; you weren't here.”
Gojo stilled, pulling his fingers from you slowly. He put them in his mouth, licking them clean as he stared you down, watching gleefully as you whimpered at the loss. There was something playful and wicked brewing behind those bright, blue eyes, an unspoken promise that only spurred your already unbearable need.
“You just keep digging that hole, baby.” Gojo smirked. “I can do this all night–how long do you think you can go?”
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Pure, unadulterated delight.
That's what Satoru was feeling as he pushed his fingers back into your pretty cunt. You felt perfect. Warm, and wet, and all for him.
You didn't want to say it, didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but that was fine with him. He was getting what he wanted already anyway: you, under him, giving him your full, undivided attention while he gave you exactly what you needed.
At least, while he was reminding you exactly who could give you what you needed. It would be nice if you would admit it was what you needed too, but that wasn't necessary. The way things were going, you would give in eventually.
And if not, Satoru could always work a little harder for you.
He brought you up slowly this time, fingers stroking against your inner walls with deceptive gentleness. If it weren't for the sinister grin plastered on his face, Satoru might have even been able to make you believe he meant to let you finish this time.
You knew Satoru better than that.
Still, he could tell when that tiny hope began to bloom within you. Satoru could see it in your eyes, in the way your brow knit, and he could feel it in his hand, in the way the slick muscle of you clenched tighter around his fingers, like if you gripped him just a little harder, then you might be able to keep him there.
You were being pretty good this time; Satoru had threatened that he would stop completely if you moved your hands from where he had placed them above you, and after he had followed through a few times, you were actually starting to listen.
That left Satoru with his other hand free to roam. He had rid you of your dress some time ago, reveling in the unobstructed view of your body, but now he was also able to touch. He slid his hand from your cheek, tracing his long fingers down your neck and chest to cup your breast while his other hand worked your pussy. He brushed a thumb over your nipple, teasing the tight bud of flesh, taking note of the way it made your thighs twitch. He had let you relax your legs at some point, mostly because he liked the way that you kicked and squirmed when you had a little more freedom, but now he was considering pushing them back up against your chest.
Your breathing was coming heavier, your stifled moans a poor attempt to prevent Satoru from noticing how close you were to coming apart on his hand.
That wasn’t technically misbehaving, Satoru hadn’t expressly forbidden you from trying to circumvent his impromptu punishment with poor acting, but it certainly wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
“Tch–” Satoru tutted, pulling his fingers from you yet again. “Are you really going to try and hide those pretty noises from me, baby?”
“Gojo, please-” You whined, your hips twitching upward. “I just want–”
“You just want this, you just want that— ” Gojo mocked. “You wanna cum, baby? You’re gonna do what I say.”
“You’re not being fair, Gojo!” You protested. “You keep changing the rules!”
He shushed you, bringing his soaked fingers to your mouth, pushing them between your lips insistently.
“Suck~ ” Satoru instructed. “Show me how sweet that mouth can be–”
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Gojo’s demand was cut off by his own filthy moan.
You were done trying to control the situation; you just wanted Gojo happy so that he would let you cum. You took his fingers into your mouth, licking and sucking yourself off of them while you watched him through lidded eyes.
You didn’t know how many times Gojo had edged you, you lost count around five or six, but the light of day had long since faded outside. It didn’t matter. You were just determined to prevent it from happening again, willing to do whatever it took to convince Gojo that you deserved to actually cum this time.
Tongue sliding against his fingers over and over again, you cleaned them completely, the taste of you fading away as you kept sucking on Gojo’s long digits. You may have done too good of a job; Gojo’s attention was now almost entirely on your mouth. He started pushing his fingers deeper, slowly invading your mouth until he reached the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him.
Gojo pulled back a little then, only to push forward once more, then pull back again. He got into a sort of rhythm, fucking your mouth with his hand at a torturously slow pace. There was a look of absolute focus on his face, his own lips parting slightly when he pushed his fingers particularly deep toward the back of your throat.
You were still trying your best to do what he wanted, but your body was protesting. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes, saliva pooled in your throat, panic took root in your chest; you were going to lose your hold on yourself before Gojo was finished defiling your mouth.
A tiny, nervous whine escaped you, breaking Gojo’s trance.
There was a moment where his mind seemed to stutter, like he was the one doing a reality check. His eyes met your own, blown out pupils nearly eclipsing the icy rim of his iris, black holes that you just knew were going to swallow you too. The irresistible force that was Gojo Satoru was going to pull you over the event horizon, never to return.
Gojo removed his hand from your mouth, using it to cup your face.
“Still with me, sweet girl?” Gojo laughed. “I almost lost it there~”
You didn’t doubt it.
You nodded, closing your mouth slowly, a little afraid that you needed to wait for permission.
But Gojo’s focus had already shifted again.
He had his hand back on your pussy, fingers circling your clit with just enough pressure to relight the fire in your belly.
Gojo always made you feel this way, both in your dreams and in reality. You were always left spinning while the rest of the world stood still. You never knew what you should say, could never figure out what you should do when it came to squaring up with the strongest sorcerer.
Begging was never a bad option.
“Satoru– ” You whimpered. “Please, please, please –”
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You were lucky that you were cute.
If he was being honest, Satoru had planned on ruining you. Not because he was jealous of a plastic dick or anything, definitely not, but because you were just so pretty when he brought you to the edge. The edge of anything, really. The edge of orgasm, your sanity, consciousness–Satoru loved all of it. The toy had just broken the dam; the flood that followed was always going to happen eventually.
But there was just something so endearing about the way you were falling apart now, about how you had become a desperate, shaking, compliant mess for him. How could he continue to deny you when you were begging so sweetly to come undone for him?
“You think you deserve a reward now, baby?” Satoru crooned, tracing the edges of your sex, relishing the way you leaked on his fingers. “Go ahead, tell me, I’m listening. Use your words~”
You blinked up at him, likely trying to figure out if this was a trap or not.
“Please, Satoru–” You breathed, shuddering underneath him. “Please, I wanna cum, please make me cum–”
“Yeah?” Satoru purred. “Tell me how you want it then~” He didn’t actually care about the method, he just wanted to hear you say it, needed to hear you say you wanted him again.
“I want you to make me cum, Satoru-” You pouted, your lower lip trembling as you held back tears. “Please, I can be good, I just need you to fuck me until I cum, okay?”
Oh.
Satoru wanted to do that.
There was one small issue: you were much too far gone to reasonably understand the implications of Satoru fucking what was left of your brains out. The way he was feeling now, if he started fucking you, Satoru wouldn’t be able to stop himself from taking things too far. There were limits to what someone like you could handle, and he had already been leading you toward them for the duration of his visit.
He looked down at you, watching the way your cursed energy churned in your belly as you noticed him evaluating you. You were tired, your exhausted body and mind in desperate need of release that Satoru could easily provide. His cock, which had been painfully hard in his pants for some undoubtedly unhealthy amount of time, strained against the fabric of his uniform, dribbling pre-cum, angry and sensitive from how long Satoru had been ignoring it in favor of attending to you.
Satoru tilted his head back, releasing a small sigh before plunging his fingers back inside you.
He would just have to keep waiting.
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Your mind was going to break completely if things kept going like this.
Unable to tell if Gojo was just playing with you again, you still canted your hips into his touch. The precision with which Gojo was able to hit your most sensitive spots was devastating; his fingers were stroking against you with deadly accuracy, bringing you hurtling toward the edge again with almost no true effort on his part. You were a disaster, barely able to do anything other than cry out each time Gojo’s fingers thrust themselves inside you.
“You gonna cum on my hand, baby?” Gojo cooed. “Gonna give me what I want?”
Your heart jumped, need and anticipation filling up your chest. Gojo was going to let you have it this time, he was going to make you cum.
“Yes, thank you, thank you, thank you–” Your voice was barely a whisper, like you were afraid if you said it too loudly Gojo would take his fingers away again. You were aching, the number of times that Gojo had already brought you to this point had left your muscles tight and sore, a tense, unyielding need lingering throughout your entire body.
“Who’s making you cum, baby?” Gojo asked, a manic look in his eye. “Tell me who’s making you feel this good.”
“It’s–fuck– it’s you, Satoru!” You cried, your pussy tightening up around his fingers. Gojo groaned above you, pushing a third finger inside you, stretching you out even more as he started pushing you over the edge.
You almost didn’t believe it when it started. A tiny pulse around Gojo’s hand, you almost missed it for the chemical rush that slammed into you, but it was impossible to mistake the way your cunt clamped down on him, the way you milked his fingers as you finally fell over that edge.
You were probably saying something, but you couldn’t hear it over the sound of the blood rushing in your ears. Your vision blurred at the edges, your view of Gojo going fuzzy as tears filled your eyes.
It felt too good, too much pleasure coming far, far too late.
As you came back down, your pussy still fluttering around Gojo’s fingers, you realized you were sobbing. Your mind was hazy, a slew of disjointed ideas and feelings, the lingering desire to please Gojo still heavily present through the mess of thoughts. Fresh tears rolled down your cheeks, your eyes leaking even more as you tried to blink them away.
The man above you looked an absolute wreck.
Covered in a sheen of sweat, eyes lidded and bleary, lips parted as he steadied his breathing; Gojo was trying to come down from your high too.
There was a brief moment then, a stillness where the two of you assessed one another as the intensity faded to a low thrum. You felt a little bit like a small prey animal, a mouse beneath the paw of a cat who was trying to decide if its prize could still be played with.
You had an awful idea.
It was more of an impulse, one that you knew you were likely to regret. You blinked slowly, then quickly glanced at the purple dildo still laying nearby before fixing your gaze on Gojo again.
Two things happened then, both of them occurring so quickly that you almost weren’t able to take either of them in properly.
The first thing was Gojo’s hands moving. His free hand found your throat, not so much to harm you as to pin you down to the bed. The other hand, still knuckles deep inside you, pressed forward again until the palm was flat against your center.
The second thing was more subtle. Gojo made a tiny noise, so soft that you could barely hear it over your own gasp. He had already looked fucked out, completely lost in the sauce, so you might have written it off. But then Gojo leaned in close, and you felt sticky warmth against your thigh. Gojo shuddered as his hips brushed against you, and then that wild look returned in his eyes.
“Like I said-I can do this all night, sweet girl.”
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Satoru couldn’t remember exactly how the dildo had ended up in his hands. He was making you drink water while he plotted on the edge of the bed when it happened. He might have been thinking about using his technique to disintegrate it into atoms, or maybe he was planning on using it to antagonize you before making you beg to cum on his hand again. Regardless, once the toy ended up in his hands, Satoru realized something important.
The toy wasn’t that big after all, it was actually more of an appropriate stepping stone if he really thought about it.
He almost laughed. It was like a present. A gift from the universe.
Well, maybe for him anyway.
You, on the other hand, were about to find out exactly how much the universe favored Satoru.
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After you had returned from your water break, you could sense that something was off, but you couldn’t see anything that was discernably amiss. Gojo had gone back to making you beg, and plead, and cum on his fingers, and for a moment it seemed like you were just settling back into the same rhythm.
Then Gojo broke pattern.
“That last one was pretty weak.” Gojo commented, still stroking your overstimulated pussy as tried to recover from yet another brutal orgasm. “I think you need more, baby.”
“You’re insane, I don’t–” You gagged on your surprise as Gojo grabbed the giant, purple dildo.
Gojo intended to use the very thing that had set him off.
He was grinning, waving the toy in his hand like he expected you to be just as excited as he was, completely ignoring the fact that he was probably about to kill you if he continued on as he had been using that.
You were already crying again by the time he had the tip of the toy pressed against your entrance.
“Satoru, wait–” You sniffled. “I don’t need more, I don’t–”
“Yes you do.” Gojo chided. “We wouldn’t be here right now if you didn’t need more.”
“That’s way too much though!”
“Tch– ” Gojo raised an eyebrow. “If you think this is too much, then we really need to start using it now. For practice.”
You weren’t sure if fear or arousal was your dominant emotion anymore as Gojo started to push the toy in. It was a significant stretch, a slight burning sensation almost overtaking the feeling of satisfaction. Gojo was taking it slow, probably just as much for his sake as your own. His eyes were caught between looking at your face and your pussy, watching closely to gauge your reaction as you took what he was giving you.
Your mind blanked out at some point, your body overwhelmed by trying to cope with the sensation of being filled past capacity. It was too slow, too much for your overstimulated nerves. You felt every ridge of the toy with unfortunate intensity, each molded vein further stimulating you far past what was pleasurable alone. It wasn’t necessarily painful, but rather something more complicated than that. Perhaps that was why you didn’t notice what was building inside you until it was far too late.
It took you by surprise when the dildo bottomed out, the balls bumping up against your clit. Gojo didn’t even get the chance to start pulling it back out before it started. Your entire back pulled up off the bed, your hips freezing up as the tight muscles in your cunt finally let loose, the pulses of your orgasm around the fake cock almost unsatisfying with how little room the toy left for you to squeeze down onto it.
Somewhere above you, Gojo was just as lost as you were, babbling to you as you nearly blacked out.
That’s right, baby, cum for me again. Better make this a good one, or I’m gonna have to fuck another one out of you right away, yeah? Show me how much you like it when I push you, cum all over this stupid fucking toy for me. Fuck, I can hardly pull this thing out, you’re really fighting to keep it inside—hey, you’re not even screaming this time, sweet girl, maybe you want me to keep going?
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You have no idea how long Gojo took you like that.
When your awareness came back to you, you were cumming weakly on Gojo’s tongue. It smelled like sex, like musk and sweat and something a little sweet. You were leaking an obscene amount of fluid all over the sorcerer’s face, your hips rocking into the gentle sensation of his mouth on your sex. You could feel Gojo grinding against your bed in time with your feeble thrusts, his satisfied hum vibrating against your core. When he felt you were done, he got up and leaned over you, kissing you softly as he wiped the tears from your eyes.
It's okay-it’s not your fault, baby, I understand why you were acting up so much before. You get lonely without me, right? That’s so cute. I know how greedy your pussy is now, so I really won’t hold it against you after tonight, okay? Just need you to–you can keep being good for me tonight, right? Just one more, I just want you to do it one more time for me, yeah?
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Things didn’t go exactly as Satoru had intended.
He had wanted to wind the event down appropriately, had wanted to make sure you got enough aftercare before he bedded you down for the night.
But then you had fallen asleep while he was in the middle of licking your pussy, passing out from sheer exhaustion after everything that he had put you through.
Oh well.
That was just fine, you would have needed even more aftercare after what he planned to do to you in your dreams anyway.
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“Hey, why is there a hole through the middle of this toy?”
“Ah, yeah, they sent me the wrong one. It cums or something? Not sure, but I think it’s called the ‘hollow purple’.”
૮꒰˶ - ˕ -꒱აsong for this one is Fingers by It Looks Sad. if u even care.
Uhh sorry if this is weird, but I please request Jester being teased until he accidentally says ‘Mommy’ when begging! (also can I be 🦌 Anon?)
Sure you can be 🦌Anon! I don’t think I have one rn.
It’s 2AM I really rushed this I hope you like it!
Calling you ‘Mommy’
-
Cw implied fem Reader, use of ‘Mommy’ edge play, safe words are in use, slight overstim
Jester had thought the wager between you two would have been an easy win, he’d just have to endure what you do until you were bored. Then he’d be allowed to do what he wants to you, it should have been easy, he has high stamina…but you kept stopping before he could even have a chance at cumming.
Had you only done it a few times it would have been easy to ignore the growing discomfort but unfortunately for him, you two never agreed on a time limit. It’s since been over a hour, Jester practically trembled as he had to stay still as you again stop stroking him right as he’s about to cum.
He growls as his cock is left bobbing, drooling a pathetically large amount of pre. He sighed in frustration, his claws sinking into the bed. “D…don’t you think that’s enough?” He tries to sound intimating, but he whines as you resume stroking his cock again. “I can’t promise I’ll be gentle with you if you keep..”
He loudly huffs as you squeeze his swollen cock, he grimaced as it gushes out more pre. It was beginning to actually hurt, every little twitch had him wince, he’s never been this sensitive before it was beginning to be overwhelming…
You run your thumb over the swollen tip of his cock, earning a bellow from him and a quick buck of his hips. You stop again as he trembles and pants, shooting you a glare. “Jester, if you’d like me to get bored, don’t be so fun!” You say with a soft smile, as if you were obvious to the pain you were causing him.
It both frustrated him and made him ache. He tried to calm his breathing as you gave him a brief moment to calm down. He wined as his arousal throbbed, he couldn’t help nearly squirming as your hand lightly rubbed his balls.
He growled in frustration and with a deep sigh gruffly said. “I’ll…I’ll forfeit just don’t stop!” He squeaked out, his claws sinking into the bed and tearing through the sheets. He feels a bit of relief when it looks like you’re going to take his offer, but then you shake your head.
“I love how you look,” You say leaning closer so your face is almost touching his. “But, how about this, if you beg, really nicely, I’ll let you forfeit?”
You give him quite a bit if time to answer, Jester could barely think straight, he sighed glancing down, he jumps a bit as you begin stroking him again. He loudly whines at your touch, the feeling is too much…
In just a few strokes he can feel himself about to burst, but again, you stop right before he can get any release. He feels his eyes sting and hisses as he realizes he’s tearing up in frustration. While he’s lost in thought, you flick the tip of his cock, earning a shrill cry.
“Mommy please! Please! I can’t-“ He babbles out, you can clear hear his claws tearing apart the sheets he’s been holding. You can’t even get mad as you see the desperation in his eyes, and the clear blush as he realizes what he said. “I-I mean my Dear, please, have mercy…”
He can’t meet your gaze as you deliberately take your time to answer. “How cute…if you can ask nicely, I might let you…but, you have to call me ‘Mommy’ while you beg, or I’ll stop.”
As your words register he looks mortified but quickly recovers trying to mask his emotions, he clears his throat, his face is practically read even in the dark.
“P-please let me cum?” He tries, but when you do nothing after a pause, he whimpers and tries again. “P-please my Love? Just once?”
You still don’t budge, his cock pulses heavily and he finally gives in. “M-Mommy please I need to cum! Please make me cum!” He roughly wraps an arm around you, pulling you close, he’s practically squeezing you as he hugs you.
You relent and grab his swollen cock, roughly stroking it at a brisk pace. He whines, squirming under your touch, but to his relief, you do finally let him cum, he collapses against the bed as his cock spurts out a humiliatingly large amount of cum, you get dragged down with him. He grimaces as he feels his release cover his stomach, even a little bit splashing on his face. You stroke him faster, making him tremble a bit as the bliss begins to wear off.
He sighs in exhaustion as you keep stroking him, leaving him trembling, his cock having gone soft in your hand, yet you don’t seem to mind as you keep stroking him. He took in a sharp, shaky breath as you tease the slit of his cock, making him jolt.
“M-Mommy please, I need a break..” He tightened his grip on you as you press your thumb down just under the sensitive tip of his cock. He bites his lip releasing you as he lightly pulls at your wrist, trembling as your grip on his cock only tightens.
. ˳༚༅༚ explicit content, mdni: sensory deprivation, slight hunter/prey, teasing, edging, handjob, dry humping, orgasm control and denial, marking (hickeys, biting), banter, brat! reader and brat enabler! sylus turns brat tamer, power play
♱ word count: 6k
♱ synopsis: anything for you, that's sylus's motto, even if it comes with a price he has to pay. in this instance, his sight is affected due to the extreme sun shining down relentlessly on your trip to tanzania. and it seems like nobody ever warned you that hurt animals can be even more viscious (alternatively: sylus's eyes couldn't handle the bright sun and he struggles a little from a heat fever. but the innocence of taking care of the wounded doesn't last long)
author's note: part of @princesa-querida's summer collab! thank you steph for letting me join and offering us such a sunny place for sylus to suffer in (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
Tanzania – Late Afternoon
The sun is relentless here, like an unblinking eye that seems determined to press down on the earth until everything bends under its gaze. It was your dream to see this place; the wildlife, the plains, the golden light that stretches on forever—and Sylus made it happen without hesitation.
Months ago, you had mentioned it in passing that if you could go anywhere in the world, it would be Tanzania. The endless savannahs, the great migrations, the ancient earth under skies that went on forever. You had seen the pictures in books and documentaries, but you wanted to feel the weight of that horizon, the smell of the sun-baked grass, the chorus of life in the air.
You didn't think Sylus would take it seriously. Not when his world—and yours, now—was so mostly lived in the shadows of the N109 zone where sunlight was an unwelcome guest.
But Sylus remembered. He arranged it all, from the flights, the luxury hotel, the private guides. All of it, all for you.
And now, you find yourself in an open-air jeep, watching the land roll out around you like some never-ending painting. Wildlife moves in massive herds, zebras graze, and giraffes move lazily in the distance.
But to a certain someone, you are the sun itself; radiant in the wide grin on your face as you point things out left and right while leaning eagerly against the side of the vehicle to get a better view.
Sylus watches you more than the actual view. At least, he tries to, if it wasn't for a few factors that he tries to act off. The hat brim and dark sunglasses hide most of it, but you have been with him for long enough to catch the tiny details: the subtle tightness of his jaw, the faint crease between his brows. Even with the protection, the sunlight here is merciless, clawing past every barrier to sting at his eyes.
Still, he doesn't complain, refuses to even mention it.
"You didn't have to do this in the middle of the day," you murmur into Sylus's ear as you lean in closer. His arm is around your waist in an instant, pulling you flush against his side while the guide points toward a herd of lions.
"We could've come at sunrise. Or—"
"I told you," he cuts in smoothly, his lips curve faintly into that charming smile that allows no talking back, "whatever you want, in this lifetime… I'll give it to you. Even if it burns me."
Your chest tightens due to the way he says it so easily, so full of conviction, as if each word is a vow he had signed in blood. Sylus has always been like this since you met, unyielding in his devotion, willing to shoulder anything for your happiness. But now, in the glare of the African sun, you realise once more what it costs him.
When the drive ends hours later, he helps you down from the jeep, the warmth of his hand steadying you before you even realise you are relying on him again. But by then you see it clearly: the subtle stiffness in his movements, the slight flinch when a shaft of sunlight hits his face as he steps out of the jeep.
The moment you enter your hotel suite, which is all polished wood, silken drapes, and wide glass doors that spoil you with a heavenly view of the Indian Ocean, you shut them tight without hesitation.
And Sylus? It seems like he stands abandoned at the entryway, slightly rubbing his temples while he feels unwatched. He stiffens upon the surprise touch of your hands as your fingers curl around his.
Guilt twists in your stomach as you help him ease back against the pillows.
"Sylus—"
"It's fine," he interrupts you immediately. His head tilts towards your voice before he continues. "You wanted to see the Savannah in daylight, and I wanted to see your eyes light up when you did."
"That doesn't mean you're allowed to hurt yourself for it," you scold, though the touch of your fingers as they comb through his hair is anything but a punishment. "You're not invincible."
Sylus smirks faintly at that, and, stubborn as he is, he lets his lashes flutter open. "You're the only one who can say that to me without consequences," he replies with an unusual softness to his voice.
You can see it now, how his irises are slightly out of focus and definitely strained. Enough for Sylus to let his eyes close again, his long lashes shadowing his cheeks.
"I'll take my chances," you reply before grabbing an ice pack from the minibar and press it gently to his temple. Without the sunglasses, without the constant focus in his crimson gaze, he looks almost vulnerable.
He doesn't protest when you sit down beside him, doesn't stop you from pampering him with your fingers as they return to play with his hair. In combination with your gentle humming of a low and soothing melody, one that is only meant for Sylus, he lets out a breath that eases the tension under your gentle ministrations.
You lean down then, press a kiss to his forehead, his nose, the corner of his mouth, which seems to relax Sylus even further—until you let your breath puff against the side of his neck.
That earns you a subtle shift in his posture, a minute straightening of his spine, as if some instinct has been stirred awake.
"You're still tense," you note with a teasing note to your gentle affections. One corner of Sylus's mouth curves lazily at that. "Am I?" His voice is low and smooth, but there is a certain edge to it, like a predator feigning exhaustion.
Your lips are barely brushing the shell of his ear, your sweet words coated in sugar as you whisper, "Mhm… I can feel it. Here." You slide your hand from his hair to the side of his neck and let your thumb brush over the strong tendon there.
His pulse offers the faintest jump under your touch and boldness in response. "Careful, sweetie," Sylus murmurs a warning with no real edge to it. Rather, the smile on his lips widens as he hears the amusement in your reply. "Or what?" you breathe back while your lips just hover against his skin, slowly dragging along his jawline.
Sylus doesn't answer verbally, but physically, with the tilt of his head. However light, the movement feels like all the invitation you need—and you take it.
You dip your head, your breath spilling warm against his neck before you let your lips ghost over the skin . Not quite in a kiss, but enough to make him shift slightly under you.
Sylus's breath catches the moment your teeth graze him. "Tch… teasing?"
He loves to feel your chuckles against his skin; the way you let loose and lower your guard around him never fails to make his heart swell with love.
"Maybe," your lips trail down the side of his neck to his collarbone, painfully slow, while one of your hands finds his chest, your nails dragging lightly over the muscle there. Sylus instinctively tenses under your teasing touches, and a low sound—something between a groan and a sigh—follows. You bask in the vibrations ringing sure under your mouth and hands.
"You're bold today, kitten," he remarks, to which your teeth scrape against his neck in a way that draws another sharp inhale from Sylus. "And you're so responsive right now," you whisper, with your touch moving down his chest. Your fingernails mimic the scratching sensations of your teeth as they drag over his pecs, the cushiony flesh giving way beneath your palms as his breathing grows more shallow.
Despite his physical affection, Sylus's voice remains calm, if it wasn't for the slight rasp only you could make out. "Your point?"
Your face returns to hover above Sylus's. Here, you brush your nose against his, so close he can feel your breath on his lips, can sense the shape of your mouth right there, just about to kiss him… only for you to pull back at the last moment.
Which makes him exhale through his nose, the faintest, however dramatic, huff of amusement and irritation combined. "You little—"
You silence the mock threat with a real kiss. A kiss that is just long enough to feel Sylus start to lean into it before breaking away again, letting your lips hover barely above his once again. His hand twitches against the sheet, as if resisting the urge to grab you.
Then you decide to tempt Sylus further; your lips trail a line of kisses down his sternum. Now and then, you stop just to blow a breath of air against Sylus's skin until his chest rises more sharply.
Satisfied with your work, you whisper. "Seems like your other senses are even sharper, my beloved prey." To which Sylus clicks his tongue, though his eyes remain closed and his voice sounds oddly smooth, a purr almost. "Keep talking like that and you'll find out who's the hunter here."
When your lips reach the line of his abdomen, it is your hands that slide lower first, above the fabric of his shorts and expertly ignoring his groin until your fingers can graze the sensitive skin of Sylus's inner thighs. Your nails scratch just enough to make his muscles twitch faintly in response.
"You remember what I said about wounded animals?" His voice comes out deeper by now, way more bothered than he would ever admit.
"Mhm..." Your fingers retreat, only to press lightly into the firm muscles once again, as if to poke and prod at his patience. "Still dangerous. You keep reminding me."
"And you keep testing it," Sylus quips back, a faint groan rising under the words. Your nails drag upward again, enjoying the way the muscles in his legs shift under your touch. "But you're letting me."
"I'm indulging you." The words sound almost like a sigh, pleased with the way you're touching him. "For now, at least."
A grin spreads on your lips as his words and warning settle in. But of course, you being you, you love to push for more, love to test Sylus's generosity until he shows you what you really do to him. As your lips brush over his once more, feather-light and teasing, you bite into his lower lip before pulling away again.
Sylus exhales an exasperated breath, but still doesn't reach for you. Which, in return, only emboldens you further. Now, your hands roam like Sylus's body was your possesion, mapping out every ridge and line, scratching lightly at his sides just to watch the way his body reacts. His breathing is heavier, his smirk curling deeper even as his jaw tightens.
"You're aching for me," you tease him again.
A firm hand finally comes to rest on your hip, just to hold you here—close to enough to leave you aware of the warmth of his touch, the size of his palm. "You're imagining things," he replies smoothly, but his grip on you tightens regardless.
The sudden nip into Sylus's abs takes him by surprise, his fingers twitch against your side, and his muscles tense as he tries to bite back a groan. "You really should stop."
But you? You chuckle to yourself and simply press your mouth against his stomach again, lower this time, as you lightly suck until you feel him shift under you. "Mhm… you won't let me," you murmur words that are filled with confidence, and your touch travels higher between his thighs then.
The faintest groan slips past Sylus's lips when your mouth moves down to the waistband of his shorts, your breathing hot and heavy against his hypersensitive skin. You leave open-mouthed kisses here once, twice, then retreat completely.
Once you sit back and abandon the evident bulge that is begging for your attention, you notice the tightness in Sylus's jaw, the low warning note to his voice, which entices you further. "Little hunter… You have no idea what you're provoking."
"Oh, I know exactly," you lean in close so your lips brush each syllable against his ear. "I'm seeing how far you'll let me go before you pounce."
The shadows in the suite have lengthened by now, the golden hour of Tanzania intense yet soft as it bleeds into a warm dusk. It paints Sylus's skin beautifully, smoothes over his usually hard features like a gentle kiss. By now, Sylus is beginning to see you again; see the gleam of your eyes, the curve of your mouth as you toy with him to your heart's desire.
A quiet chuckle leaves him, his signature sound that always mixes dare and promise in one. Of course, he won't tell you that his eyes have relaxed, won't inform you about the state of the now liquid ice pack that uselessly rests against the pillows.
No, Sylus likes this too much—he likes you too much. The way you move with confidence, how you treat him like prey while knowing exactly what kind of predator he is.
Oh, he is letting you have it. Lets you straddle him with your hands braced on his chest as your nails graze over taught muscle and firm flesh. He smirks faintly beneath you and willingly tilts his head back deeper into the pillows—a silent offering of your beloved to take as though he is at the mercy of your hands.
You accept. Your mouth meets with his neck to let your tongue drag slowly over slightly salt-kissed skin before catching it between your teeth. You soothe the sting with your tongue before repeating the motion along his pulse, leaving faint marks of blooming pink and red for you to admire once you pull back.
"Marking me so intently," Sylus notes with an amused lilt in his voice. You shift lower while humming absentmindedly, as your entire attention rests on tasting him.
Your mouth trails along Sylus's chest, and every now and then your tongue flicks out like the cat that got the cream before your teeth sink into his pecs, his abs and lower still until Sylus's hisses and groans.
His hand slides to your thigh then, his fingers warm and steady as they push into your soft flesh. There's a hint of mockery to his praise as Sylus adds, "and you're so brave today."
"You like me brave," is your rather casual, confident remark. Words that make him chuckle before his free hand brushes along your waist.
"I like you… bold," Sylus corrects. "It seems you still don't know the difference, kitten."
You cut his lecture off with another bite; one at his inner thigh that makes Sylus's muscles twitch and his hands curl into the bedsheets.
He exhales through his nose, slow and steady, but you feel the tension in his body. Bravery or boldness, whichever it is, leads your hands up to trace the sharp cut of his hips before your fingers work on the button of his pants.
It doesn't take long before the sound of the zipper being undone follows in the otherwise quiet room. Perhaps that's why Sylus's sigh of relief feels rather loud as well.
"Such a daring little thing," he comments while your hand moves beneath the waistband of his briefs. Sylus tenses slightly once your fingers wrap around his girth to stroke him slowly, then faster, only to slow down again. Each drag varies in strength, engaging his body in a maddening push-and-pull that has his hips shifting subtly under you.
Sylus doesn't stop you; hell, he would never dream of stopping you. But he does feel the need to steal a glance, to finally open his eyes to watch his little hunter on top of him, working on his cock so fiercely.
How could he not reward you with groans of pleasure? Softly exhaled sighs and gentle moans that make you feel like the queen of the world.
That is, until you suddenly stop. Just as suddenly as you had begun to touch him in the first place. Sylus warns you with a low vibrated hum and a click of his tongue, but instead of resuming to spoil him with your hand, you press your thigh against his groin—nudging it firmly enough to make him exhale deeper through his nose.
You keep it there for a beat; just long enough for Sylus to press back and grind against your thigh. Though his smirk only widens when you pull your leg away entirely and deny him the pleasure.
"You're dancing on a fine line, little hunter." It's as though Sylus is keeping track of all your mishaps, though instead of stopping you, he enables them, enjoys every delicious torture you put him through… and perhaps in his desperation, he falls for them again.
Just like you lean in again with the promise of a kiss. Your hand on his cheek, your thumb swiping across his lower lip while you're so deliciously close that your tongue can trace the soft curve of his smirk.
Sylus lets out a soft huff of laughter as he nudges the tip of his nose against yours. "So brash," nothing but a murmur against your mouth. His eyes are now half open, heavy-lidded and glinting in the dim lights of the setting sun that barely shines in through billowing curtains.
"You're letting me," you counter, to which Sylus only tilts his head as he assesses you.
"I always let you, don't I?"
"Yes," you whisper as you press kisses just under his jaw while your free hand returns to slip beneath the waistband of his briefs to stroke him slowly—teasing the leaking tip with a swipe of your thumb and then gliding slowly along his entire length to the base.
His hand curls loosely around your nape, holding you in a grip meant to scold without further words as his crimson gaze finally seems to focus on you again. "But remember, sweetie, every hunter becomes the hunted eventually."
You kiss him then, hard enough to steal the words right out of his mouth as Sylus exhales into you, ready to devour more than you want to offer. You leave him with nothing but the ghost of your lips as you pull away too soon, despite the strength in his fingers.
He groans in pleasure; the denial you put him through is a turn-on no other could ever fathom.
"I think you like it too much to stop me," you tease as your foreheads lean into another. Sometimes you rub him slowly, coaxing, other times firm and quick, just to hear the change in Sylus's breathing.
He lets you. He allows it. Every second of it.
Until…
"Careful," Sylus warns, though there was no real threat in it. "A wounded animal still bites."
"Bite me," you dare as your hand tightens around his shaft, just enough for Sylus to buck his hips into your hand. And just as you drag your nails over his abdomen in a way that will surely leave more marks on his skin, his hands suddenly tighten around your hips.
Before you can protest, Sylus shifts. It's a movement crafted through a controlled roll of his body that leaves you flat on your back. Pinned beneath him, your once grabby hands are locked down above your head in one large palm, and his once unfocused eyes are sharp again, focused on nothing but you as they shine with a predatory gleam.
"That's enough," Sylus murmurs. "Now it's my turn," the words are velvety smooth, his tone keeps you from feeling any remorse—no, all you can focus on is the excitement coiling tight in your core.
Sylus lets his free hand trail down your cheek before his thumb brushes under your chin to tilt your head up. Leaning in, he doesn't tease you, no, Sylus conquers you with a deep and claiming kiss, one that is all tongue and lust until your lips are numb and your lungs feel empty.
"You—" The words catch in your throat when Sylus leans back to let his mouth ghost along your jaw and lower until his heated breath tickles the shell of your ear.
"I let you," he reminds you in a murmur. "Every scratch. Every kiss you withheld. Every mark you left." His mouth moves to your neck, open and wet, entirely filthy as he sucks deeply until he is sure the marks will sting come morning. "Now, you'll take mine." His lips drag lower still, licking, nipping, biting before soothing each spot with his tongue.
When his hand finally abandons your wrists, he tickles your arm with his fingertips until he focuses on your safari blouse.
God, you looked so cute in your little fit today, it's a shame he couldn't enjoy it as much as he wanted to.
Though one sight will always be even more breathtaking than you in whatever Sylus wants to see you in.
Click.
Your breathing quickens already. Sylus notices immediately, the quirk of his brow and that self-assured smile tells the tale. "So responsive," he mocks, smirking against your skin. "Just like I was."
Click.
Another button is gone, accompanied by the slide of his tongue over the delicate edge of your collarbone before sucking lightly until your breathing falters.
You feel Sylus's other hand at your thigh, and it slides higher until he can slowly spread your legs with a firm touch. At the same time, he barely spares you a second of pity before his teeth graze the top of your breast as the next button gives in.
Click.
A lingering kiss to your sternum, then lower as his hair tickles your skin. His lips and teeth paint a trail which leaves your nerves on fire.
By the time Sylus finally reaches the last few buttons, you're a squirming mess of neediness. Every painfully slow reveal of your skin is met with his mouth, but never enough to satisfy, just enough to make you gasp.
Once your blouse is finally gone, your bra doesn't last much longer as deft fingers unhook it in a split second to throw the item carelessly over his shoulder. Sylus's eyes roam over your newly exposed skin with a heat in them that makes his crimson appear near molten.
"Perfect," he praises, almost to himself, then he already leans down to take your nipple into his mouth. His tongue circles the sensitive nub lazily, barely stimulating before his teeth catch it enough to make you arch up into him.
"Sensitive," Sylus notes with a hand that slides along your waist. His kisses finally move down, over your stomach in a slow and near worshipful manner as his hands squeeze your hips. He only pauses to lick a line along your lower stomach, the sensation chased by a soft bite into the skin just below your navel.
The room feels thick with heat by now. And you're panting, your body already aching for Sylus to keep going, to keep giving.
"What's wrong, little hunter? Out of breath?" Though Sylus gives you no time to reply.
His hands hook under your thighs to pull you close with ease until his hips are slotted against your own. The movement forces a gasp from you, one he rewards with another deep yet slow kiss.
His lips devour yours as they trace the seam of your mouth, then his teeth nip into your lower lip, and his tongue finds entry until you're left clinging to Sylus. When he finally pulls back, a filthy strand of spit still connects your lips.
"You— you're—" You gasp as you try to find words, though it seems your mind is already lagging behind.
"Making you feel…" he continues the sentence for you with a tone that is heavy in satisfaction. "Good. You'll remember every second of this."
You don't remember what happened first, but suddenly his mouth is everywhere; worshipping, tasting, claiming as Sylus alternates between slow, lingering kisses that draw whimpers from your throat and sudden, possessive touches that make your hips buck against his.
His hands squeeze, tease and stroke in maddening rhythms, each one designed to make you arch and beg. But each time you try to reach for him, Sylus catches your wrist and pins it back down to the bed. Every time you expect him to kiss you, he stops just shy of your lips, forcing you to chase him.
When he finally unfastens your shorts, it is done with that same infuriating care. Sylus tugs them down with all the time in the world, slowly dragging the fabric over your hips and down your thighs.
But he leaves you no room for a breather. Instead, he pushes one thigh open and leans in for his nose to brush along the inside of your leg before his tongue follows in a slow and wet lick.
"You've been teasing me all day," he whispers into your skin between licks, "you think I'm not going to return the favour?"
"Sy—" You gasp as you try to move against him, to get more, but his hands are firm on your thighs as they hold you exactly where he wants. His mouth travels up your inner thigh, closer and closer, only to steer away the very last second to make you whine out in frustration.
That rewards you with another heavenly chuckle from Sylus. "Patience, princess," he suggests. "You'll get what you're begging for… when I'm done making you lose your mind."
The kiss that follows his words is just as intense as the ones Sylus spoiled you with before. His mouth moves against yours without any rush at first, but the intensity of his longing is palpable in the hold on your hips and the stroke of his tongue over yours. Sylus claims you entirely; he is squeezing, stroking, kneading until you feel like you can't take any more.
Every kiss is wetter, hungrier, and every touch a calculated push toward your breaking point.
By the time he finally presses himself against you fully, your eyes are already glassy, your breath unsteady, and your entire body arching into his without shame. Sylus hovers over you and lets his eyes roam over your defeated expression.
"Look at you," he says softly, his voice holding all the love in the world in those three simple words. His thumb moves to swipe away some spit at the corner of your mouth before he continues. "My beautiful girl… what a quivering mess. You wanted to hunt me?"
"Yes—" The word is barely audible as it slips past your lips.
"You've been caught," and then his mouth is on yours again. Somehow, the kiss is even deeper, all-consuming, a kind of kiss that demands everything and gives it back twice as hot. "I think," Sylus murmurs against your lips, "it's time I remind you what happens when you hunt something you can't kill…"
Sylus's weight above you is overwhelming; not just physical, but the way he looks at you now might just be enough to lock you in place. His eyes are sharp, exhaustion be damned, when he can play with you instead.
From your waist to your ribs, a featherlight touch turns into squeezing as Sylus reaches your breasts to knead them with slow pressure.
At the same time, his other hand reaches its destination on your hip to pull you flush against him, pressing every curve of your body into his until the heat of him, the hardness of his cock can grind against you, enough to make your eyes roll back, but never to satisfy.
"You feel that?" Sylus murmurs. "All of me, pressed to you. Every part you've wanted, and yet… I can pull away whenever I please, sweetie."
And he does just that. Pulling back slightly until your body feels almost cold before pressing back down into you again. Chest to chest, your heartbeats race against another in a pulse of desperation.
Sylus's thighs trap yours into a wide spread while his hands are busy kneading your ass, gliding along your thighs, tracing the curve of your waist with maddening temptation, until you tense and shift, quiver and hm… is that a whine falling from your lips?
He smirks smugly at that and rewards you with more languid rolls of his hips that make your body react instinctively; your back arches, your fingers fumble for support as they grasp his shoulders, and your thighs instinctively press against his sides.
You barely manage to moan his name before his lips devour yours once more. It's a slow kiss, so slow that every drag of his tongue against yours makes you sigh and steals your breath until you feel dizzy.
Then, without a warning, his mouth is gone, and Sylus's attention back on driving you insane. The drag of his barely covered length grinding into your—by now utterly drenched—panties is delicious. Enough to make you moan, but not satisfying in a way you could let go.
Your sounds turn frustrated when Sylus keeps it at a steady rhythm that holds you at the edge of relief. Instead of pushing you over, he resumes to leave his signature down the other side of your neck, over your collarbones and down your chest. Each kiss is hard, possessive even, while he is nipping and sucking with a force that makes you arch, groan, and clutch at him.
And yet, just when you think he might show pity, just when it seems he finally picks up his pace or might finally push your panties aside, he stops.
Leaning back, his eyes roam over your frustrated expression, basking in the dilation of your pupils and the tremble of your lips as they part for a moan. He tugs at your panties, his fingers brushing against the damp spot before slowly, teasingly, the bastard dares to nudge them tighter against you, right against your throbbing pussy.
Featherlight fingertips trail along the evident shape of your lips, his thumb flicking against your clit until you whine out again. Crimson eyes gleam bright with satisfaction as Sylus leans down to move his lips against yours. "Uncomfortable, hm? Such a snug fit…"
You would shoot back a response if you had the brain cells left. But the sudden press of his mouth atop the damp spot is enough to make you spiral further and surrender. His torture continues as Sylus sucks and teases your clit, then licking indulgently along your pussy, and finally, he nuzzles into your slick-coated panties.
Your moans are music in his ear, but the show stops as soon as your fingers curl into his hair to hold him there. "Ah," he starts, and that one little sound is enough to make you tear up, "we agreed, little hunter… You don't get to touch without permission."
You want to beg. The ache between your legs is unbearable by now, your whole body thrums from the constant switch between indulgence and denial. When his mouth returns to you, it is everywhere at once; sucking a mark into your neck, biting lightly at your jaw, kissing down your chest to the swell of your breasts.
Every inch of him moves against you, to grind, press, tease, while his lips and fingers worship your body. He really knows you, the realisation settles heavy when Sylus groans your name right into your ear—in that panted and slightly whiny tone that always makes you fall apart.
Bastard, you scream in your head as a frustrated whine follows. Because right now you don't experience any orgasm, feel no relief, only the desperate throbbing of your clit as Sylus dares to chuckle. The sound vibrates against your skin when he presses further kisses along your jaw.
"You love it when I make noise, don't you?" he murmurs with a rougher voice as his lips brush against yours. "And every moan, every shiver… belongs to you, sweetie. Remember that."
Then his hand finally roams lower, his fingers reaching between your spread thighs as they replace his length. They trace, massage, and grind through the sticky fabric glued to your pussy.
But it's the press of his forehead against yours, the familiar silver strands that tickle your skin and the warm breath against your lips that calls you back down to earth. "Why? You're trembling…" Sylus whispers, making your response involuntary. Your hips move against him, your hands hold onto him in desperation because you need him to stay and finish—you deserve a reward now, don't you?
His fingers slide beneath your underwear, brushing your throbbing clit and teasing your core, but never fully granting relief. "Look at you," Sylus murmurs while locking your eyes in an intense battle of who might avert their gaze first. "So wet, so ready… and yet… I decide when it ends, when it begins, every second is mine to give… or take."
Sylus lets you feel every sensation, amplifying it, as he watches your face and body light up under his touch. The heel of his palm grinds right against your clit while long fingers dip into your clenching hole time and time again.
Your legs shake, your breath is ragged, your whole body screaming for release as he alternates between deep, marking kisses across your skin, teasing bites, grinding against you, and then pulling back to let the ache pulse through every nerve.
You can feel him in your entire body—in your thighs, your hips, your chest, your neck—each contact is electric, overwhelming, leaving you a quivering mess of want.
Finally, after what feels like hours, Sylus sits back and lets the tension in the room fill the silence between you. Your body is wet and aching, desperate for release, and he deems his work done.
So, he casually adjusts his shirt and picks up his sunglasses from the bedside table before speaking softly into your ear, "Enjoy the sunset, little hunter. I know I will."
With that, he is off the bed while tipping his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose. The last streaks of sunlight shine in through the balcony door to illuminate his figure as he strides outdoors.
For now, this little game of power and control was over with Sylus coming out victorious—if it wasn't for the bone-deep ache in his balls that he tries to rein in while looking at the scenery of Tanzania with a newfound appreciation.
He left you a complete mess, and he knows it. Sylus is so aware of it that he wears a smile even now while listening to your frustrated whine ringing from inside your suite.
Every nerve and thought of yours is consumed by him, by the feeling of his hands, lips, teeth, and grinding body as you curl up on your shared bed with nothing but the memory of his touch and the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air.
You crave him more than ever. Every fibre of your being aches while Sylus basks in the intense, dramatic glow of the late African sun and the aftermath of the torment he has so masterfully orchestrated.
summary :: you used to edge ollie without even meaning to, so now it's his turn to try it. and he's loving it, a little too much
f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || OVULATING CELLY!!!
"Please," you choke out to Ollie, who's busy slowly thrusting into you and staring into your eyes. It's been almost an hour of him just torturing you with the idea of cumming all over him. But you haven't been able to, with him constantly stopping you.
When he brought up the idea of edging, you though that meant he would be the one getting edged. But, when you were pinned down by his big hands, his towering frame hovering over your body - you quickly realized he meant to YOU.
Usually, Ollie was pretty gentle. He could be rough depending on his mood and how his day went. But he's never edged you. He thought it was too cruel to do that since he knew when it felt like. Like when you would make him hard on purpose, only to leave to hang out with friends. Or when you would give him head under the table while he's gaming with friends, only to get a call from your best friends and stay on the line for hours.
But now, it's his turn to do the same thing to you. Pulling his dick out to be just his tip, and then slowly pushing it back in. He always loved to watch it disappear inside of you. Sometimes seeing it slightly poke up against your stomach, giving you a little bulge. But that only happened when he was nice enough to even give you all of his dick.
At this slow pace, he was only going on half of his dick. And it makes you wonder how you're able to even handle his entire dick usually. Only half of his dick feels so filling to you. Making you moan and squirm like crazy, which just gives him a massive ego boost.
"See how I feel?" He says with a shit-eating grin on his face. More so a pussy-eating grin, cause God knows this man can eat. But that's off-topic. "It's not very nice, huh?"
"I get it, I get it, Ollie" You whine out as he pulls out to only leave the tip in you again. "I'm sorry, Ollie, I really am!"
"Shhh" He says, using his free hand that wasn't pinning your hands down to move to your jaw. He places a finger on your chin, pulling it downwards to look at where your cunt and his dick are. "Just watch with me."
He says, as he slowly pushes back in, then pulls out, and then back in. You moan at the feeling and sight, pulling your head back and closing your eyes. Trying to imagine if he was fully fucking you so you could cheat your orgasm.
"Hey," he says, looking at you with slightly pouty lips. His cute face didn't match his actions though as his hand swiftly forced your chin back down. Making you watch as he pulled out to be just the tip.
But instead of going back in, he pulled out. Instead, rubbing his wet dick in-between your folds. He groans, his hands tightened against your wrists and your chin. You felt slight pleasure from it, but nothing as much as before. You felt empty, feeling your cunt clench around nothing but air.
It would be a long, long night until you were gifted with an orgasm.
I can't stop thinking about how patient Zayne had to be while training your body not to cum before he says so, especially when he is edging you after you've been a little too reckless and bratty for your own good.
One day he is mad that your little (not so little) expedition to the no-hunt zone ended up with sharp protocore shards incrusted in your arm. When are you gonna understand? He thinks as he properly takes care of your injuries, his hand is soft as he works over the shards that punctured your skin, nevertheless the way his stern eyes look at you after hearing you joke about the situation tells you it's gonna be a long night when you've recovered enough...
Which brings you here, in his bed or at least he is the one sitting on it while you are bent over his knee, one of his thighs pressing on your hips to keep them up, and his free leg capturing both of yours to keep you in place and from squirming even more.
Reality is he is not even mad at you anymore, but still he has to teach you a lesson, for making his poor heart worry like that.
He spanks you till your ass is pink and your panties are bearing a dark spot at the center from where your juices are pooling. Is only when he sees those pretty tears staining your lashes that he knows you deserve a little something.
Zayne touches you gently rubbing your aching pussy with his fingers in slow circles. His plans of edging you surfacing at the front of his mind, as it was something you both discussed and wanted to try out. Isn't this the perfect occasion? He thinks.
He starts bringing you closer and closer, alternating between his mouth kissing your clit after circling it with his thumb, his fingers finding that sweet spot inside your guts and his tongue drinking you. You only find out what he is trying to do when you get too whiny for him to just fuck you and make you cum.
"I don't want you to cum" he let's out from between your legs, and you feel a droplet of slick run out and down of you. "You are gonna hold it until I say so, so I suggest you to start behaving"
You don't know how long you've been trying to hold it, you've tried to make him slow down by closing your legs and his access to your puffy cunt only for him to slap your ass once again and pushing your knees apart this time pinning your thighs to the bed with his hands as he gets back to eating you out.
You've tried taking deep breaths as he always told you, but the air just seemed insufficient and horrible hot, not to mention that the way his fingers filled you reaching the perfect spot inside you, knocked the air out of your lungs.
You've even tried thinking about something else, organizing movie titles in alphabetical order, only for Zayne to tell you to look at him all disheveled as his lips glistened with your juices. The view almost made you lose it on the spot.
It was impossible to maintain this rythm and when he started grinding the underside of his cock in the seam of your pussy lips coating it in your arousal and catching the tip in your poor clit, you couldn't help the way your body twitched.
Waves of pleasure crashed over your body. Brows pinched and breaths uneven as if you were holding your breath for too long (which probably you did), you try to cover it up by not letting those loud moans spill from your lips, keeping your body as still as possible as if that were convincing enough.
"Did you cum?" He asks even tho he already knows the answer, he is just giving you the opportunity to avoid another punishment for lying to him.
"No..." The way you clit pulsed under his thumb and your pussy twitched gave you away immediately, as if your body were complaining that you had to restrain yourself "Sorry, I-i couldn't help it" you say only cause it's obvious he caught you in your little lie.
"It's okay, that means we gotta practice more" he says while removing himself from you.
"So... Can we fuck properly now?" You say shy, and a little spark of hope gets into you when he looks at you with a wicked smile.
"Love, this was supposed to be your punishment, you're not coming again until you learn to control yourself" and with that he kisses the top of your head as if you aren't pouting flabbergasted at his audacity. leaving you to get you both a shower.
Your bratty self awakens when he leaves to get you both a shower, "He is not gonna keep me from myself" you think and just as your hand travels down and your fingertips grace your navel, you hear him from the other room.
"Don't make it worse for yourself, behave."
You were so fucked.
🩹﹕𐔌〃・꒱ 🩹﹕𐔌〃・꒱ 🩹﹕𐔌〃・꒱ 🩹﹕𐔌〃・꒱
a/n: I LIVEEEE for softdom! Zayne, like yes make me beg and cry and then kiss my tears away, please and thank you.
