fatui male harbingers smut headcanons w f!reader , ranked from highest to lowest stamina (headcanon) | includes all male harbingers except pulcinella
a/n: requests are open for headcanons, mostly for fatui and nod krai cast ! send me an ask don't be shy :3 request rules are here !
minors dni | likes , reblogs , and follows are appreciated ! <3
TARTAGLIA — HIGHEST STAMINA
as the youngest harbinger, there's no doubt he has the highest stamina out of the fatui men. he's very proud about it, too. he loves to fuck, and it's a surprise to no one. there'll be some days where all he wants to do is ravish you after a long day of combat and fatui affairs, while on other days he wants to take his time to fuck your brains out. sometimes it's hard to keep up with him in bed, with the way he seems to never tire. he loves every single bed activity there is: fucking, eating your pussy, fingering, playing with sex toys, having you suck his dick if you wanted it, and even anal. there is never a time he isn't in the mood to fuck; he'll take every chance he gets to spread that pussy of yours open. this man can't keep his hands to himself at all either; all he wants to do is touch you and please you. tartaglia doesn't have any shame either, he'll take you anywhere and everywhere. quickies by the training grounds, in one of the hallways of the zapolyarny palace, in a secluded spot in the northland bank, and even short makeout sessions during work. this man's hunger is never a joke, because he'll never get tired of you. either way, you'll always be in for a ride with tartaglia, as he probably won't stop until the sun comes up.
SCARAMOUCHE —
technically... he's a puppet... so do puppets really get tired? but seriously, he's definitely a freak—a bratty and cocky freak at that. he loves to degrade you while his hand is wrapped around your throat as he thrusts his cock sharply into you. he gets off to the sound of your moans and pleas, the way your pussy flutters around him with desperation and need from every thrust. scara definitely loves to tie you up too, hands bound together with your legs spread wide and your ankles shackled down so you can't move. he'll tease you, edge you, and overstimulate you until you can't take it anymore. sometimes he even uses a vibrator on you while you're tied up in that position, pressing the toy in a torturous motion against your pussy. and he's not nice about it either. he'll continue to overstimulate your clit till you're shaking and sobbing, begging for him to stop the vibrator. if he's nice enough, he'll lower the intensity, but otherwise... he'll only ramp up the speed. and when you come for the nth time that night, he'll do the honour of cleaning you up by eating your pussy, licking all your juices. and just when you think he's done with you, he comes back for another round, ready to hear your pretty moans.
DOTTORE —
having dottore as a sex partner means having a tons of other guys as your sex partners too. what i mean by that is his segments. each segment has their own level of freak, and by extension, their own level of stamina. omega definitely has the highest stamina out of the rest of the segments, followed by moonttore and primettore. prime definitely has a thing for watching his segments fuck you in front of him, it's like a guilty pleasure. he loves to watch as a segment thrusts himself balls deep inside of you while another has his cock in your mouth, and maybe another to touch and tease you while the other two work on you. moonttore is especially cruel; he'll fuck your pretty little cunt till you're full of his cum and you can't walk. sometimes dottore takes turns with his other segments to fuck you, milking your poor pussy out for the night. he fucks like a man deprived and starved, burying his cock deep inside of you until you beg for him. he's definitely the type to use a drug or aphrodisiac on you if it means you'll be extra sensitive for his cock and touch. anything to help you keep up with his desires. stamina is never a problem for dottore, because there'll always be a segment that's ready to keep your pussy full and warm.
PIERRO —
don't ever assume that his age affects his stamina in the bedroom. while yes, his stamina has definitely worn down over time, pierro knows how to fuck and satisfy their partner properly. he knows your weaknesses and your sensitive spots, and he uses them to his advantage. his knowledge definitely comes from his years of experience, and he'll use them to the fullest to satisfy you. as the director of the fatui harbingers, he's always stressed and has a lot of pent up frustration. so what better way to relieve himself than to fuck his partner? he's the type to fuck you anywhere: bent over his desk, hidden by a pillar in the halls of the zapolyarny palace, or even in the tsaritsa's throne room—as long as she isn't there, of course. pierro will give his all to satisfy you, regardless of how quick he is or where you two are. he's usually very rough with you, but can be quite gentle surprisingly. by the time he's tired, you're shaking and trembling with pleasure, down to your fourth orgasm. even though he gets worn out faster than the rest, he knows how to leave a lasting impression on your pussy.
CAPITANO —
capitano is only this low on the list purely because of how crazy the rest are. most of the time, capitano likes to take his time with you, with slow and deep thrusts and a lot of groaning. he drags out each thrust of his hips and each flick of his fingers against your clit, drawing out soft moans from your lips. he takes his time to please you, conserving his energy while satisfying you. but on days where he feels more stressed than usual, he's rough, fervent. he'll bend you over against the nearest surface, rutting himself deep inside of you till you're arching your back and seeing stars. he'll have his large hands everywhere on you—your hips, your thighs, your waist, your breasts, even your throat to choke you when he's incredibly horny. he loves to watch your expressions as he pounds into you, watching the way your chest heaves and rises sharply with each thrust. and when his body finally gives up and spills his seed inside you, you're ruined beyond comprehension. he'll carry you effortlessly to somewhere more comfortable once you two are done, and he'll make sure to ease any pain he may have caused you during his fervour.
PANTALONE — LOWEST STAMINA
pantalone is a loser. the end. jokes aside, i think pantalone definitely has a lower stamina compared to the rest of the fatui men, but not to be disappointed. he's absolutely kinky in the bedroom, often spicing up your activities with toys and gadgets. he loves to tease your pussy with a vibrator, playing with the setting while shoving a dildo in and out of your pussy. but that doesn't mean he's lazy, because he loves to touch you everywhere and anywhere his hands can reach while using the vibrator on you. fondling your breasts and ass, rubbing your thighs, marking and kissing your neck and collarbone, even fingering your pussy while the vibrator rubs on your clit. but when pantalone does actually fuck you, it's absolutely hot. he'll have his hands everywhere on you during sex, teasing your tits as he drives his cock deeper and deeper inside of you. his thrusts are sharp and rough, but they gradually get sloppier over time when his stamina begins to wane. he'll hold out long enough to see and feel you cum at least twice from his cock, watching as your juices coat his cock and wet the bed. and when he's exhausted? if you're still horny? don't worry, he's still got that vibrator and his fingers to fuck you.
. . . 𝝑𝝔 " BOTH? BOTH! AT THE SAME DAMN TIME! " kinktober week 2 day 4/5
✦ synopsis. when the top two harbingers you work for crave for you, and can't resist holding back due to professional boundaries anymore. how will you react?
✦ pairings. capitano x pierro x fem!reader
✦ director's notice. this wasn't gonna be in kinktober at first but ngl it kind of fits?? ALSO i remember his hands had claws, so i made them into gloves so reader doesn't get hurt :sob:, and no i am not into the reader getting hurt at all!!
✦ warnings/tags. NSFW, kind of headcannon formatted, threesome, power play, secretary!reader, kind of office sex, kind of exhibitionism, blood & corpses mention but nothing inherently sexual about them, oral (f!receiving), backshots. rly aggresive backshots. praise & degradation, obsessed capitano, possessive pierro, fem anatomy used, fem terms used.
pierro and capitano became your bosses the moment the tsaritsa took you under her wing, and placed you to assist her two best of the best, loyal, and strongest harbingers. you took it upon yourself to accept this, and hopefully they'd accept you too.
but holy crap you didn't expect them to be this attractive. even with the mask this guy was huge and respected others. while the other had only half his face shown and still ended up being the leader of it all.
pierro and capitano didn't really mind you at first. as in they did not really care too much, they just gave you basic things to do at first. giving you a stack of paper work to carry and follow one of them into their offices to place them. don't know what they need paperwork for but they have that.
you also dealt with cleaning up after them. spilling coffee, food spills, blood, anything and everything in between. that includes corpses. and that's where you started catching their attention. you never questioned, that's what got them. you never asked 'why' or ever looked at them differently when the house of the harbingers lost another servant. no, you simply followed along. and that was hot.
you were close to the tsaritsa, if you were honest? it honestly seemed like you were her daughter, so how would she feel if she knew her two most trusted soldiers fucked her?
capitano was who had you first, your legs were sprawled out on his lap. you could feel how hard his cock was against your back whilst one of his fingers slipped inside your wet folds. and god, his fingers were long.
capitano did not even have to say anything, the small hums of approval that vibrated across his chest as you leaned on him was enough for you to understand what he wanted. you knew him long enough to know what he liked, but that didn't stop the surprise that caught you off-guard; a second finger.
capitano loved seeing you squirm, it wasn't even the first time he had taken off his clawed gloves in order to get at an angle that would curve them right into your g-spot.
your pretty little back arched in unison, your head leaned into the space beside his neck.
capitano loved seeing you so fragile, others always saw you somewhat stone-faced, either that or a kind, pretty face in the cold winter that of the harbingers. but here? you were his.
oh but the utter shame you felt whenever pierro felt like joining in. especially with how different they treated you individually.
capitano—his touch was soft, but roughened you up with the right volume. but pierro? his words were laced with the soft snow you'd find outside,
the difference? one didn't have to speak, and the other spoke for both.
so it would've made sense that pierro loved whispering praise into your ears whilst keeping it 'professional'. praise that could easily turn into dirty words that would turn you on either way.
"doimg a great job for us, ms. (reader)." voice with a tone similar to softness itself, his hands were massaging the spots capitano couldn't cover, you couldn't tell how someone could feel so warm yet so cold all at the same time.
not to mention, they always mentioned this between each other like it was apart of your duty. but the thing is? you get to control whether you want it sweet, and sensual, or hard and rough. although that choice is yours, it's been a requirement for awhile that you 'help' them at least once a week.
especially when it had been one particularly annoying servant making it obvious they more-than-dislike their pretty little secretary? they were already calling you over.
capitano loved dipping his monster-sized tongue into the tight enteance of your pussy while your soft thighs would crash against the rough, ragged sides of his head. pierro always preferred to watch, rather than to give oral.
pierro preferred to whisper sweet little nothings into your ear, a hand on his pale cock while watching his close coworker go down on you.
but you know what? you don't know what turned you on more, when they were sensual, and sensitive with how they touch you, or if they did not care at all. (at least if they act like they don't)
did you like capitano better when he had your head forced into the desk below you, penetrating your cute little hole with that abnormally large cock?
"fuck, t-take it baby—take your boss's cock like you're mine." you couldn't do anything but moan and arch your back.
your ass was poised up for him like you were just a mere doll for him, but honestly? capitano never made you feel like you were just a plaything. he made sure you felt at the very least appreciated when having sex.
as much as he had liked pounding your fat ass into the mattress, he loved eating your pussy out waaaaay more.
the way your walls clenched on his tongue, and how he had to hold your hips down onto his face. just let him handle your weight, pleeeeeease, he wanted needed to get all up inside your velvety walls before anyone else could have a taste.
or...
was it pierro when he let you ride him, letting you take control of the pace until you can't, so you beg him to do it for you—
"what do you say then?" "p.. please s—sir? wan' it s'bad." "good fuckin' slut."
that's all you heard before his large hands landed on you, one on your waist, and the other gripping at your ass. god he loved your ass so much.
pierro always needed to have his hands on you. he couldn't help using the excuse of looking out for his secretary. or making sure his secretary was going to be saved from some random on the street trying to hit you up.
so when you were in private? he needed to have his palms, and especially when gripping at your ass. he loves how bouncy it was, he loves when you threw it back on his cock when you sank down onto him.
capitano who always uses the excuse of needing you to help clean up when in reality he just needed a breather from that damn helmet, and kiss the cunt he's grown to be obsessed with.
and pierro who falls in love with how much pleasure you could give him. just by being all cute and vulnerable with him was enough. he always used his authorative role to make sure he got what he wanted.
capitano and pierro both love their secretary, but they show it separately. ♡
–tw. Fem reader, size difference, sub!wolf!reader x dom!bunnie!boy, breeding, bratty reader, doggy style to prone bone, overstimulation, hybrid au, kabedoning, tail tugging, eating outz from behind, creampies, brat taming, enemies to lovers, dub-con(???), teasing, mindbreak, masturbation, mention of heats, public sex in a storage room, blowjob,
ღ ~ You never liked this bunny boy that's just roaming around thinking he's the shit. You were pretty sure he's tired of you aswell. Always in his face saying that you could easily break him down, he doesn't take you seriously by your height and just smirks which ticks you off even more.
You always find a way to tease him. Either by tugging on his tail or ears, or sitting on his lap when he's studying or reading, grinding down to get a reaction from him. He doesn't have a popular fanbase so you won't have to worry about girls getting jealous or flocking over him.
He's very quiet too. You've done things to him that would've surely made him whine or moan. You know you can overpower this big guy. But, why isn't he getting affected by any of your methods? You almost want to cry. But you won't show it.
Outside of the building, you hold his arm as if you were his girlfriend. Wrapping your tail around his leg as you follow him to a café or even his home. He doesn't care what you do. You look adorable looking around in his home. He'll even be willing to let you stay a night or two. Even let's you wear his shirts which are really oversized since it hangs low past your knees. You were left with just his shirt, your panties, and thigh highs.
He let you sleep on his bed and he takes the sofa. As you let some time pass, you took a hold of his pillows and hugged it with your arms and legs as if it was a real person you were cuddling. You grind your cunt onto the pillow, your juices seeping onto the cotton filled thing from your panties. You'll just give an excuse saying that you drool a lot. You inhaled the scent that lingered on the pillow and sheets, making your cunt stickier with slick.
You grinded down harder onto the pillow but you grew frustrated with the outcome of not reaching your high. You sat up and pushed your panties to the side. Your underwear was so sticky that slick stuck to it when you pushed it to the side. Your nimble fingers toyed with your clit and pushed some fingers into your cunt. You let out low whimpers and moans so as not to wake him up. You closed your eyes, deep into pleasure as you were reaching your high. Your hands reached that spot you longed to touch for so long, you squirted onto the sheets and on your hands.
You let out a few squeaks and breathy moans before realizing you wet his sheets. You fixed yourself up and wiped the sweat that was dripping down your temples. You ran to his closet and rummaged through them to find another clean sheet. You found one and replaced the one. You threw the other one in the far back of the closet and went to sleep. You hoped you didn't wake him.
Oh but you did wake him. He was just reading when he heard breathy whimpers coming from his room. He crept to the slightly cracked bedroom door and spied on you as you continued your act. He felt blood rushing to his cock and to his surprise he was hard. He palmed himself before taking out his thick and girthy cock out. The tip had a pearl of precum drool from the slit. His hand strokes the base as he continued to pump at the sight of you.
Soon he came in sync with you. His cum falling on the floor. He went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to wipe it up and threw it in the dirty hamper. He went back to the sofa and went to sleep.
The next day was a weekend. You woke up to see him making breakfast. You tapped his shoulder, saying that you'll need a ride home. He nodded and told you that he had an extra toothbrush in the bathroom if you needed one. You both ate and reluctantly complimented his food while feeling hot in the face with a pout. He chuckled silently.
You brush your teeth with the extra toothbrush and put your work clothes back on, you tie your blazer around your waist and grab your essentials to go wait in the car like he told you.
The whole car ride to your place was very quiet, except you told him which direction to go. You arrived outside of your apartment complex and it was time for you to go. You leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek and left the car. You noticed he didn't leave afterwards and noticed he was looking at you so you blew him a kiss and waved him off. He shyly waved and drove off.
Monday soon came rolling by and you were back to your normal self. The teasing was getting on his nerves today not because he was tired of you, no. He was surprised you didn't kneel at his feet, begging him to take you.
Throughout the week, you were slowing down your teasing and talked to the other employees. On a late Friday, you and him were told to work late hours. The boss gave him the keys as he trusts him to lock up the place. You both were at the end of your shift and you just wanted to get home and relax in a nice shower. He ran off somewhere maybe to the bathroom but you saw he was done.
You yawned and rubbed your eyes and you were finishing up the printing and typing. You took a sticky note and wrote I'm done so I'm taking your keys to your car to wait inside. You packed up your things and took the elevator down.
You tiredly walked to the entrance but your arm got pulled into a storage room. You screamed but the person used their hand to cover your mouth. You ears went flat on your head as your tail fluffed up in fear.
A light turned on and you saw him. Your ears perked up and your tail felt the urge to wag. “E-eh? Why did you drag me here?!” you yelled but he did nothing but glare down at you which made you feel really small. “You been nothing but a brat, little miss wolf.” he crosses his arms as he glares at you more intently.
He started walking towards you and you back away slowly as if YOU were the bunny in this situation. You hugged your tail, hoping he wouldn't hurt you. You saw his shadow hovering over you. You peered up and saw him with his hand placed above your head. “I know what you did in my bed, little wolf.” you looked at him as if he was crazy but your eyes widened as the thought came back to you. “I-I can explain y'kn-” “There's no need for it.” and with that he swiftly lifted your woke skirt up, revealing your drenched panties and slick thighs.
You gasped and tried to cover it but he took your wrists into his hands and pinned them to the wall. “Don't try to cover up now since you didn't think about it while fingering yourself in my bed,” your ears went flat and you felt your face go hot and meekly apologized.
“Get on your knees.” you were about to ask him why but met his sharp gaze and it said otherwise. You got on your knees and waited for something to happen. His hand reached the zipper of his pants and unzipped it. He pushed his underwear down to reveal his thick, long, and girthy dick. It nearly smacked you in the face but you backed up, you gave his dick a scared look of terror. How could he, a bunny, have such a big thing like that?
He nudged his cock to your lips and you gave it a kitty lick. You let your lips engulf the tip of his dick and slide your tongue on the underside. You inched his cock further down your throat but your tongue could barely lick the underside. Your head moved faster with the motion to grant him his release. Breathy moans came from above you as you didn't notice his hand itching its way to the back of your head. His palm grasped your head to push you down further on his cock, you nose touching his pubic area as he blew his load in your throat.
You tried to move away but his hand kept you there as cum kept pumping from his dick. Some were already leaving your mouth even though you hadn't moved away. Some cum dropped on the floor and some landed on your face.
He finally released your head and you coughed when, trying to catch your breath. You noticed he undressed himself from his blazer and dress shirt and placed it on the ground in a neat way. “On all fours, now.” he pointed at the clothes and you shyly moved the clothes, positioning yourself on all fours. His hands moved all over your body to undress you fully. He only left you in your thigh highs as he thought it was cute to see your legs thrashing with the tight material squeezing at your thighs.
His hands grab at your thighs and move himself to your sticky and dripping pussy.”Pleasepleaseplease. . .” you begged. He dove his tongue in your cunt, your juices hitting his tongue. Your eyes widened as your thighs started to shake and tremble. He flattened his tongue on your cunt which made you get closer on the edge as he thrust his tongue in and out your pussy. His tongue thrust into that spot that made you squirt on his face. Your arms collapsed under you and your ass was now in the air.
You were embarrassed how you wet his face. Your ears and tail drooped and he noticed but just gave pats to your head. You snuggled your head up into his head and didn't notice how his cock head was basically breathing on your pussy.
He thrusted in while gripping your waist. Your hands clawed at the clothes beneath you that were protecting you from bruising your hands and knees. You mewled as he hit right on the spot, making you gush all over his dick. Your pussy was slightly struggling to take him fully in. Just pushing your pussy past its limit was a life achievement for him. He pulled at your tail so you can meet with his thrusts. You whined and yelped due to how sensitive your tail was.
Your tongue was sticking out your mouth in the most lewd fashion. You tried to crawl away but he grabbed your arms and pulled them behind you to further thrust into your pussy. You dove your face into the clothes beneath you and bit them between your teeth to muffle your high pitched moans and whines. His cock aimed at your cervix so much it made you feel dizzy. He could see the stars swirling above your head and your hazy eyes.
He leaned closer and started peppering soft kisses on your face. You were the smallest thing he's ever seen that even when he leaned forward you were still in the doggy position. He bit at your fluffy ears and moved his hand down to play with your clit. As he kept thrusting at your womb, he noticed your stomach kept stretching outward. He moved his hand up and felt his cock punch at your cervix which showed on your stomach. He stopped thrusting which made you look back. “I-is something wro- OOmph!” his wild thrust back into made you get pinned to the floor. His shadow hovered over you as he pinned both his arms beside you.
You whined as the mushroom tip dove back into your cervix. If he went hard enough, he would burst through. Your legs thrashed behind you as he kept hitting the spots that you loved deep inside. Your tongue stuck out your mouth with some saliva sticking on your tongue and some drooling from your chin. His finge pinched at your tongue which made you grimace and struggle to put it back in your mouth. Your breathing got heavy and started to squirm. You pushed your hips back with all your strength to meet his thrusts. You squirted onto his dick, some splashing on his pubic area.
A few more thrusts into you and he came inside you. He creamed deep inside your womb that it made your stomach bloat which he was proud of.
Your body collapsed to the ground as you were finally tired. He got up and looked at your form. Sweat glistening on your skin, the white substance leaking from your bruised hole, and your trembling body. He grabbed you by your waist and cradled you in his arms. He grabbed his and your clothes and left the storage room to finally go home and lock up the place.
The dommy bunny boi :3 /Blade, Jing Yuan, Dr. Ratio, Aventurine, Gallagher, Boothill, Sampo, Welt, Pierro, Capitano, Pantalone, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Alhaitham, Choso, Toji, Gojo, Nanami, AND OTHER CHARACTERS THAT FIT!!
ღ ~ DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY POST W/O PERMISSION. DO NOT COPY MY LAYOUT. YOU MAY TAKE INSPIRATION BUT MAKE SURE TO CREDIT ME.
Really it all starts out simple; you were just a simple secretary for the Harbingers who worked directly under Pantalone.
So naturally it starts because of him.
He likes talking to you- not like, actually, loves. You’re the only person who’s actually willing to listen to his constant rambles about his theories of currency and he doesn’t know if it’s out of fear or because you’re actually willing but he still finds comfort in it.
It’s so comforting that honestly, it kinda turns him on…like no one has ever actually sat with him and listened to him with such focus that he’s lining over you, both lovingly and sickingly.
How the stress relief starts…he’s bold.
by bold, meaning you quite literally caught him jerking off to the thought of you as you walked into bring him a few papers to sigh, and he was bold enough to ask you for your help; and of course you oblige!
okay now actually onto the actual smut part;
Pantalone, who is probably the second sweetest out of all of them when he fucks you. As teasing as he is, he makes sure to pleasure you.
Pantalone, who just laughs when you say you want to pleasure him instead, and he’ll tell you that your pleasure is enough to get him off for days.
Pantalone, who sometimes just can’t handle all the stress the others push on him and he’ll come find you, bending you over any near substance and prioritizing his pleasure just for a bit.
Pantalone, who can also just push you against the wall of the castle halls, not caring if anyone sees you. He knows the risk turns you on, and he loves it.
Pantalone, who fucks into you so passionately yet roughly; so obsessed with how your tits bounce he just has to grope them as he fucks you. He might even fuck them too, and let you suck the tip of his cock.
Pantalone, who passes this information onto his good partner Dottore, who decides he has to really test out the theory that you’re as good as Pantalone says you are.
Dottore, who decides he’ll need you for certain experiments. You’re hesitant, but he promised he’d never do anything to hurt his loyal assistant.
Dottore, whose experiments are really just seeing how many times you can cum on a drug, a toy, his hand or his dick.
Dottore, who is WAY more teasing than Pantalone and wants to pleasure you, but makes sure his pleasure is always given no matter what.
Dottore, who loves to try any new kink or idea with you. Whether it be bondage, role playing kink- anything! you’re the only one he will do it with
Dottore, who is just so rough on your poor cunt :( who’ll rub your clit as he fucks into you so harshly, the slaps echoing through his lab.
Dottore, who WILL fuck you in front of the segments or have multiple of them fuck you while he watches
Dottore, who then passes this onto his comrade, Capitano.
Capitano, who is the sweetest out of all of them.
Capitano, who yes, does need you for his stress relief but he doesn’t wanna hurt you. Instead, he’ll go at your own pace- he knows his cock is too big for you and is patient to get you ready.
Capitano, who praises the most out of them all. It’s a shock because he’s typically quiet, but a “good girl” will make you cum on the spot.
Capitano, who will only go rough on you once you beg him too, and he will quite literally fuck you like a monster.
Capitano, who is just so big even his fingers make you go crazy. He’ll wipe your tears as you complain about how big it is and he’ll try his best to soothe you.
Capitano, when rough, goes absolutely drunk on your pussy and fucks his cum into it for hours even if you’re too overstimulated.
Capitano, who’s coat is so big that when the others aren’t using you, he’ll have you sit on his lap during meetings and wrap his coat around you- hiding how you’re warming his cock, or sometimes he might not even use the coat.
Capitano, who passes this information onto his good friend, Pierro.
Pierro, who could be the sweetest if we considered this in terms of how gentle they were when they fuck you.
Pierro, who is actually practically monsterfucking you whenever he chooses to use you.
Pierro, who is sweet because he doesn’t like to use you a lot- he knows how much the others do and how much it makes you sore so instead he’s the king of aftercare, making sure you come to him after them if they don’t take care of you so that he can.
Pierro, who sometimes just can’t help it because he’s too stressed out, and has to bend you over his desk and fuck you for hours.
Pierro, who does care about your pleasure just a bit, but you are his stress relief aren’t you? He’ll remind you as he cums for the nth time in you, you a babbling a mess.
Pierro, who isn’t really as kinky or exhibiting as the others and likes to fuck you in the comfort of his office. However, he may steal Capitano’s idea and slowly and subtly bounce you on his cock while you’re under his coat, hiding from the others.
Pierro, who’s dick is just too big that the moment he even lets the tip in you’re already going absolutely drunk on his cock.
Pierro, who notices Childe’s recent sickness caused by his delusion, and suggests a reason for him to finally relax in certain ways; you.
Childe, who is the last on the list of being the sweetest.
Childe, who sure, he’ll praise you when you do so good and degrade you just how you like- will use you the most out of all the men
Childe, who is just soooo tired and stressed and he needs your pussy to suck his cock in at least once every hour.
Childe, who will have you cockwarm him as he does his work and spanks your thigh when you try to get some relief and tells you to be patient and that he’ll tend to you once he’s done.
Childe, who does care about your pleasure and makes sure to make you cum first, but the real reason is because he wants you overstimulated so you can cry and beg for him to stop- it turns him on because you know you don’t want him to.
Childe, who will fuck you anywhere and everywhere. The lounge rooms? Every couch has been used. The kitchen? You’ve been bent over every counter? The halls? He’ll hold you up and fuck into you.
Childe, who does not care if someone sees or hears you two and will purposely make you scream so the subordinates outside his office can hear and remind them that they can’t have someone as gorgeous as you.
Childe, who even if it seems like he sees you as his cock sleeve, does care about you and makes sure you get good aftercare and will massage you- him and Pierro are great minds alike.
Childe, who is the one to suggest to all of them to use you when they’re all in the castle.
You, who by the end of the day, is a babbling mess; you’re covered in their cum while some of it dropped out of all your holes. There were honestly hundreds of bite and hickey marks littered over you- your neck, thighs, tits, ass, hips. It’s insane. and all they can think about is how they can’t wait to continue using your slutty pussy.
how would the genshin men react if they see you just... cupping/rubbing/touching/playing with your own boobs in front of a mirror? lmao
bonus points if you tell them they're sore/sensitive //hit
me who does this a lot... hehe only doing two situations <3
❏ ( notes ) ; enjoyyyy, sorry this was so late <333
❏ ( contents ) ; 18+, nsfw ahead.
Surprised?
Freezing behind you as they catch you doing this but soon enough... they come up behind you and cup your breasts themselves, smiling down at you. They don't necessarily ask why you're doing it; they'll take the opportunity to tease you a bit about it.
You don't even have to tell them about how sore or sensitive they are either, as they already know once they cup them in their hands, taking one of your nipples between their fingers to pinch them a bit... just a little to hear that cute whine from you.
They keep you facing the mirror so you can see just how their hands squeeze, pinch, and roam all over your chest. Their lips leave pecks along your neck, sometimes biting, leaving love bites along their trail. One of their hands dipping down your body to settle between your legs, feeling how your arousal was already pooling between your legs just from this.
They'll pretty much just stand there behind you, leaning against the doorframe as they watch you do that in front of the mirror. They won't move until you notice them though, coming up close and teasing you about how cute you look doing that.
They'd tell you such things like how cute you are, roaming their hands over your body and complimenting every part of you, making sure you keep your eyes on them in the mirror while doing so.
bonus if they have you seated on their lap with their legs spread widely as their fingertips toy with your sensitive little bud. "Isn't this just a pretty sight?" they'll ask in a hushed tone in your ear as they point out your cute expressions in the mirror, their other hand coming up to cup your breasts.
MEN who eat you out like his life depends on it ! ( figuratively and literally )
He's fingering you so harshly as his tongue and lips work their magic on your clit, the combination being more than enough to send your moans bouncing off the walls in high volume. He could go on for HOURS just devouring your cunt. He's so addicted to your taste that he needs it 24/7—all he wants to do is please you, overstimulate you until you become a sobbing and moaning mess. He absolutely loves it when you start screaming out in complete bliss. The way you squirm and frantically grab onto the locks of his hair in a attempts to pull him even closer as if it was possible, gosh how he adores the sight of that so much. When he looks up even for a mere split second, he's in awe at the sight of you falling deeper into the depths of pleasure all because of him.
ʚɞ unbound in the throes of ecstasy; free from strenuous morality and worldly tethers, you are where you belong. he knows your heart is strung on another, but he also knows that he can’t please you the way he can.
WARNINGS ݈݇- fem!reader, stepcest, AGE GAP!!!, stepdad!pierro, ft. boyfriend!childe, ddlg themes, daddy kink, spit, possessive!pierro, infidelity, fingering, exhibitionism, face - fucking, dacryphilia, breeding, dry humping, manipulation, corruption kink, finger - sucking, cum eating / swallowing, spanking, praise, degradation, pet names, orgasm ruining / control, just.. just icky pierro, minors & dc antis do not interact.
NOTE ݈݇- ummmm 😅😅😅 welcum back me i guess ! ! !this is prob the most debauched thing ive ever written so nice comments n reblogs would be happily appreciated :3 this went a totally different way than i planned toward the end n it got pretty rushed but i hope u guys like it anyway
WORD COUNT ݈݇- 10.2k
BURNING, WHITE, HEAT. A surge of hellfire courses through your veins and it takes every semblance of power in you to not explode. Your thighs are tightly clenched, attempting to crush his ministrations but dexterous fingers are lengthy enough to continuously tease you. A featherlight brushing against your folds is enough to make you shiver against the warmth. You damn near slam your elbow on top of the table and bash your forehead against your palm, hiding the pleasure on your face as best as you can.
Pierro thinks you must figure him as a fool. He must be stupid to you—a blind idiot—if you think you can get away with this. He stifles down a grunt of disbelief with a sip of his water, deciding to no longer pay attention to the slight quakes of your body.
His eyes are instead fixed on the source of your tremors: the smug redhead who thinks he’s so clever. His left arm lightly jitters behind the table and if he were an idiot, Pierro might have ignored it. He might have ignored how close you two got. He might have even ignored the moans you quietly let slip. But he is no idiot. He is perceptive and right now, he is very angry.
He tries to hide it, to keep the daggers he stares at bay but his patience is thinning by the minute. Ignorance cannot be bliss when it is infiltrated—Pierro tries to turn a blind eye to your deeds but he is not allowed to. When the quiet of the upscale restaurant meets its lowest and your conversation has briefly halted for the allowance of enjoying your meal, his ears can pick up the leaking, sticky path your boyfriend’s fingers take. The sudden hitch in your breath and the calm slosh, slosh from between your legs is a dead giveaway and he can't help but look. He can't help but chew the inside of his cheek instead of his steak and grunt. Anything but, and he might blow the lid off his pristine demeanor.
Those eyes are sharp and you narrowly avoid their threat. You keep your eyes straight and only rarely do you spend a glance at Ajax. He finds pleasure in the way you tighten around his fingers when he presses that spot, right when your mother inquires about another insignificant detail about his life. He likes how you scratch the denim of his pants instead of the table, wordlessly begging him to stop as he brings you closer and closer—
It feels too good; the edging, the twirling, the danger—it births a reward too precious to sacrifice and that's why you don't stop him. You soil your panties and make a fool of yourself, making your mother pause the conversation one too many times to clarify your well-being. It’d be humiliating if it didn't feel so good.
With your thighs tightly clasped around his wrist and your heartbeat pounding through your clit, your orgasm just teeters at the edge, stray streams leaking to be caught on Ajax’s hand. He sends you a look of faux concern and you can just barely fight the urge to bare two rows of teeth at him menacingly.
Pierro, who has utterly capped his limit on how much of this shit he can take, opens his mouth to spew a question that may just humiliate you if you don't play your cards right. He’s a jest—his fun derives from the toil of others and you are his perfect target right now. Serves you right.
The words are quickly snatched from his mouth to his wife’s as soon as the words form on his tongue. A look of disdain is fought off as she tenderly asks you for the nth time, “Are you sure you’re feeling well, sweetie?”
You can lie to her with no problem. To him is where the difficulty arises and this moment, where your eyes have glossed and your body has folded, he could have blown up your whole spot. Ajax plays off the hand between your legs as though it’s on your stomach, using his right hand to gently rest against your shoulder and slowly pull you up.
She’s the idiot Ajax thinks Pierro is. The kind, not-all-there, and not wholly caring idiot who lets dirt build right under her nose—it’s no surprise that she lets you off with that pitiful “I’m okay…just some bad cramping,”.
“I’m sorry,” you breathlessly apologize, presumably coming down from your high. “I should…I think we should cut this short. I’m honestly not feeling too well…”
“Are you sure? You don't..wanna finish..?” Ajax asks you. The smile he hides peeks out behind his feigned frown and the innuendo immediately dawns on you.
Flustered and more embarrassed than you thought you would have been, you lock in your eyes a pitiful stare of Enough. As if that would stop his torment.
His hand slides from between your legs and rests against your thigh, sticky, wet fingertips tapping against your thigh…taunting you. Questioning you.
Your mother patiently awaits your answer as her eyes swivel around in search of a waiter while Pierro continues his glaring assault. There's a narrowing of his eyes that he continuously enacts, as if to warn you, to beg you to try it if you dare. Disobeying him is a thing you've never done but this sly motherfucker beside you has pushed you to try your luck.
“I mean…I do want to—but, I don't think I can. At least, not here, not right now…” you slide your bottom lip between your teeth gingerly, pleading eyes boring into Ajax’s. A look that’s commonly reserved for Pierro, and for the first time, angers him to see it.
Ajax fights back his grin but fails desperately. He nods, turning to face your mother and stepfather. “Well, we should get the princess home and taken care of, shouldn't we?”
Your mother takes the time to gush, drawing out an amused awwww at the pair of you, wrapping around her husband's arm and leaning against it. “How sweet! Isn't he sweet, Pi?”
Staring directly at you, with nothing but a blatant grimace, Pierro nods. “Very sweet.”
Timidly, you avoid his gaze. It does you no favor, either way.
She continues her rambling and all of it goes in one ear and out of the other. Pierro cannot stop staring. Ajax whispering in your ear and the grip you have on his shirt. The glisten that’s wiped off his fingers and thrown haphazardly atop his meal scraps. The devious, wide smile that hasn't been shaken this entire encounter…
Pierro has never wanted to slap someone more. Even more so, he’s never been this angry with you.
“You got the bill, right, hon?” Your mom asks him, the first one of her sentences to penetrate his thoughts.
You and Ajax are standing beside the table now, his hand comfortably resting low on your hip and your body slotted against his. From where he sits, Pierro can smell you. The familiar, decadent sweetness wasted against your thighs calling out to his memory and begging the perversion to rise from the dark recesses and take you against the table— and it only gets worse when he raises his sight to look at you, only to be able to catch the slightest glimpse of your soaked panties pushed to the side.
He looks you in the eyes, a look you hate to see awaiting you when you return the favor.
Pierro nods, turning to your mother with an almost pained smile. “Of course.”
Back to the two of you, gaze sharpened and narrowed, he continues, “You two should go on ahead.”
Ajax is quick to take the dismissal with a cheery grin. One that—more than anything else tonight—pisses Pierro off. “Ah, thanks, Mr. A! Here,” he takes a minute to fish his wallet out of his pocket, “For our part and the tip,”
To you, his attention turns. “Are you ready to go?”
You say nothing but nod instead. Your eyes can't help but surf to your stepdad and you almost offer him a look of pity—a gleam of sorry in your eyes. He spares you not a single look, and with Ajax’s upbeat parting words, the two of you slip away hand-in-hand.
Your mother’s smile is proud. It’s proud, and certain, and genuine, and it makes Pierro angry. Right now, he could expose you to your mother and make everything worse.
“I like him, hon. For her, especially…I’d say it’s perfect but I don't wanna jinx it,” your mother giggles. Pierro’s eye twitches. It takes everything in him to relax because, truly, Ajax has done nothing wrong.
He might be nothing short of perfect and possibly the best thing that could ever happen to you and yet, Pierro can't find it in himself to be happy. That anger is a gnarled form of envy that paints him green. And it’s by the grace of God that nobody but the only one who matters can see that fervent shade on his skin.
He keeps up the charade with your mother with another strained smile. “Yeah, good for her.” He sounds less than enthused but for her sake, she does not pry.
Pierro wants to hate Ajax. It makes it so much harder that he cannot.
━━━━━━
Pierro’s eyes are a beautiful shade of blue. A crystalline gleam—meant to light up under the sky and shimmer like a star of hope. Looking into his eyes gives a cool mystique that urges you to get lost in them. Oftentimes, you do, finding that at the end, awaits you is a warmth far too comforting.
It’s different when those eyes glare back at you. Boring into your very being with a scrutinizing narrowing over every little mistake. The dimness of the house intensifies their stare to the point that you can feel them before you see them.
Your breathing is almost shallow as you trek up the stairs and your eyes are wide and shifty. Your heartbeat has turned irregular and is skipping beats—the mere uncertainty he imposes working overtime in unnerving you. Pierro is not nice when things don't go his way. Even worse, he’s unpredictable. Mostly, he’s vile.
What awaits you is only a mystery that you wish to leave boxed.
Approaching him at the top of the stairs, you slide your hand into his gingerly, hoping that the kindness will grant you some leniency. “I’m sorry I’m late..” you gulp. “I— We— Ajax had stopped to—”
With your hand in his, Pierro has power over your autonomy. He pulls you into him, using his left hand to slot against your waist and hold you against him. Everything he does is in complete silence and it unsettles you.
His eyes rake over you time and time again in the same span of seconds. Your face, near fearful and apologetic, to your upper body, stiff and unsure, to your lower half, turned in on itself and now, of all times, prioritizing modesty. Now, you seem to have an ounce of shame and Pierro can't call it anything but pitiful.
He lets a beat of silence pass with you in his arms. “You’ve disappointed me.”
You part your lips in a silent gasp, wholly surprised that he hasn't tossed you around yet. To his statement, you respond with a light clutch of his button-up — and to that, Pierro huffs. He’s not hearing your crocodile tears and unenthused excuses so you can save it.
“I’m upset that you let that happen. You let him touch you like that in front of me…” His fingers tickle up your back and you instinctively press into him more. A frown stretches over your face - mostly out of concern for where this is leading. Partially because his words genuinely do hold weight.
Raising your head to meet his eyes, “I’m sorry, Daddy,” leaves your mouth incredibly timidly.
His eyes are softer when meeting yours. It almost seems as though he’s immediately forgiven you and in the wake of that thought, you feel better. You feel like leaning into him further is no longer a gesture of fear but comfort. So you lean impossibly closer, nuzzling your head against his chest comfortably. His feigned sense of security has you under his palm like an idiot — a blind fool in the lion’s den.
“Did you like it? Did it feel good…better?” He purrs, lips moving against your head as he kisses you. That's enough to muffle his words but you hear him clearly. The tenderness he exudes works to juxtapose against his instigating words.
“Well…”
“Well?” He catches your trail. He tightens his arms around your body and traps you against him.
It’s almost oppressive; you’d say so if it wasn't for the familiarity it brings. But it contrasts with the grit in his tone — a sharpened edge prodding at you menacingly, just waiting for you to say the wrong thing to impale you.
With a gulp too audible coming from you, you shrug warily. As much as you want to, you can't lie to him. “It wasn't better…but it wasn't bad…”
Humorous. What a humorous attempt at trying to not anger him further; Pierro has to stifle a laugh at your expense but you can feel the humility.
“Did you cum?” He asks straightforwardly. His left hand trickles down your back and brushes against your waist. His fingers brush the hem of your skirt out of the way and slide to grope your ass, using one finger to slip between your thighs and collect the wetness. At that, he notes the lack of underwear. You, so daring, so racy, let that asshole take your panties as a souvenir. His voice grows deeper—angrier—as he inquires further. “Did you cry his name? Maybe you called him baby. Maybe daddy—”
“No!” You interject, a bit too loudly, at that. “No—I didn't. I would never.” Because you’re my daddy—you choose to omit that part.
He only laughs. Somewhat menacingly, but brightened when your eyes catch his grin. “Do you want me to praise you for that?”
“Do you think you deserve that?” There’s no escaping his questioning; you're trapped. He knows you hate being talked down to—you hate the confrontation, the disappointment, the dissatisfaction with you and he does it on purpose. He catches the way you avoid looking at him and blink rapidly, airing away the mist that comes to paint your eyes.
It takes you a moment to shake your head no, your entire face dropping at the action. You were wrong, you were bad, and now he won't be nice to you. He's going to use you, he's going to fuck you up and make you wish you'd denied Ajax altogether.
“I’m glad you know that.” He says, condescendingly. “I’m going to show you what you deserve.”
With his gruff admission, the hand on your ass grips tighter and you gasp silently. When your eyes meet once more, he sends you a look that you know all too well: one you can't say no to, and one you’ve grown to not ever want to say no to.
Your toes are bent as you push yourself up to meet his face, arms naturally sliding up and around his broad shoulders.
Lips closer than they've been in weeks and eyes locked more seriously than this entire night, you two fall into a pit of risk, leaning closer and closer. You try to lean in and he only offers you a ghostly peck. Breaths fanning each other and lips gingerly caressing the other, Pierro utters out one last request: “Say you deserve it.”
He controls your body spiritually — a carnal desire is unleashed within you that makes you stupidly want him, pressing your lips against his softly, wantonly, “I deserve it.”
It’s obvious that you give into him. Stumbling into that bed of forbidden desire, tangling in the sheets of lust.
Pierro wastes no time in pulling you into your bedroom, covering your tracks with the hallway light flickered off and your door locked. He’s overzealous and nearly rips your clothes off of you, every touch housing a raging, impassioned fire.
You let it happen — letting him guide your way and taking control. Your mouths slot and move alongside one another disgustingly perfectly and if it didn't feel so fucking right, you’d grimace and scream your head off. Instead, you take him down with you, gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling him on top of you, needing him more than you should.
The world becomes a mere distant memory as he licks into your mouth, finding your tongue to dance with and suck on. Your legs stretched around his body allows him to bunch your skirt up, grinding his clothed hard-on against your bare cunt. Kisses are subsequently broken by squeaky moans and you, a puddle under his touch, can do nothing but that—leaning your head back when the friction overcomes you and kissing back is no longer a priority.
Sloppy, wet kisses trail from your mouth to your cheek, then to your ear, then down your neck, then to your collarbone. Your somewhat modest neckline is then pushed out of his way, allowing him to lay a barrage of kisses against your skin.
No words are exchanged verbally but in every action they’re screamed. Pierro wants to lay claim on you, to purify your body after being defiled by the redheaded miscreant you call a boyfriend. You went out of his sight and returned with a pest on your hip and nothing besides anger overcame him. In all its jagged forms: envy, bitterness, resentment, desire—Pierro had been waiting to take you down again, to remind you who you truly belong to.
He sucks and nips fervently at the skin until you whimper and wince and unknowingly confirm the existence of a mark there. An uneven, ugly blotch to claim you as his.
This is repeated across the expanse of your neck and chest, an uneven pattern drawn in his wake. When he pulls off of you, your face is knitted in shocked pleasure and your body chases him: hips bucking toward the air in desperate search. He hangs over you, using one hand to grab your cheeks and squish them up. You're so fucking cute, he could chew you up—among other things—but right now, he coos menacingly at you. “Cute.”
When he fully removes himself from you, sitting beside you, you know what awaits you. When the clattering of his belt hits your ears, you know what you need to do.
What you need to do is show your daddy his place in your world; so, begrudgingly, you sweep yourself up onto your knees.
His hand comes to the back of your head to softly cradle you and you lean into it, fluttering your lashes at him in hopes of receiving his leniency. He, however, is a punisher, and your knife in his back won’t be forgiven so easily.
“You’re so lucky I even touched you,” he grits. His thumb strokes your cheek and creates this sense of security. It’d be calming if you didn't know him. “Am I not enough for you anymore?”
“You are,” you pout. “It’s just—I like Ajax, too. I’m confused…”
He sits up slightly, capturing your glossy gaze in his. “Do you like Ajax or love me?”
His eyes flicker to your clutched thighs and you cower slightly, feeling the regret caving in your chest. The pout you sport curves wider and Pierro almost smiles at how easy it is to dig at you.
You open your mouth to answer but he shushes you, shaking his head no. The hand on your cheek runs to your backside and palms your ass, slapping the flesh with intensity. The sound rings off of the walls and the impact resounds in your body, rippling through with an itching sting left in its wake. You whimper and look up at him, watery eyes meeting a merciless crystal blue. Tenderly rubbing the spot, he continues, “Show me.”
You do what you're told and that's what Pierro cherishes about you. That's what makes him red in anger at the pure idea of you showing this to anyone else—being this for anyone else.
Ajax doesn't deserve a sweet girl like you. He can't take care of a sweet girl like you.
And you can't take care of a man the way you take care of Pierro. He won't allow it.
You manage to pull his cock from behind the waistband of his boxers. He’s pulsing furiously in your palm and the weight he carries makes how feverishly he’s been needing you painfully apparent. He leaks a creamy stream of pre and it awaits your attention. Just the light hold you keep on his shaft elicits a groan from the man and his hips involuntarily buck upward, wordlessly signaling his need for you.
The slightly salty bead swims onto your tongue as you kitten lick the tip, gingerly beginning to stroke half circles around his cock.
He clears his throat, slamming his palm against your cheek again, “Don’t tease, baby. Take it in.”
You oblige his request and slide him onto your tongue. You hollow your cheeks and grimace as you try to fit as much of him into your mouth. Slobber dribbles out of your mouth and cascades down his length, creating a moat above the hand you keep tight around his base.
The longer you keep him there, the harsher your gags get — you sputter around his girth before pulling up for air, gasping in a dramatic heap of air. He chuckles at you and uses his thumb to wipe away a string of spit on your cheek.
“You can do better than that,” he coos. “Go deeper.”
Again, you pull your lips as wide as they can stretch around him. You try to swing your tongue around his girth as skillfully as you can accomplish, swiping at the prominent vein that beats for you.
He groans out a curse, throwing his head back while simultaneously gripping the back of your head. “Deeper,” he growls.
You try to slink deeper, but he presses at your reflex, a messy series of gags slopping around his dick. Still, you persevere: unfolding your lips to wrap around his girth and suck harshly.
“Shit,” he drawls, pushing your head down further. “Just like that; you’re so fucking good for Daddy.”
Your hands move to his thighs and attempt to claw at them, but you're left gripping his slacks. Your mouth quickly becomes tired as you try, and the light bob you facilitate grows weak. Subsequently, Pierro takes control: placing both hands on your head and pushing you down.
You swallow around him but it doesn't subdue the echo of your gagging. He bottoms out in your mouth and you can do nothing but sputter and choke, letting a lake of slobber spill down his length.
It becomes messy extremely fast with Pierro on the reigns. He thrusts into your mouth in tandem with pulling your head down, creating a nasty rhythm that you can only be a variable to.
“That’s it, princess,” he praises breathily. The smile you try to make goes unnoticed, but the swarm in your stomach doesn't.
He’s relentless and desperate, only offering reprieve when your eyes grow foggy and your breathing shallow. His hips stutter and his balls throb—Pierro is on the brink of pleasure that no amount of imagination can give him. Your mouth is a warm piece of heaven that warms and leaks all over him, soiling his pants in a mixture of spit bubbles and precum. It’s nasty, but it’s your nasty: something only you can do for him. He has you in the palm of his hand, doing exactly what he wants, being exactly who he wants you to be, and he couldn't ask for you to be more perfect. His palm cracks down again on your ass, almost as a sign of commemoration.
Gray brows are furrowed and knitted and the struggle to keep his eyes trained on you is real. Every time the back of your throat squeezes around his cock head he chokes on a guttural moan, your praises gliding off his tongue like butter. The arrangement is near perfect and it’s doing its weight in placing pleasure upon the man. He’s at pleasure’s mercy and finds himself in the pits of thought, stumbling upon the feeling of love. Pierro has found true escape in you and everything you can do for him and that is why he can't let you go.
He can't let you go—not when you whine around his dick and send him the most perfect vibrations, pushing his orgasm over the edge.
“Oh, shit,” he hisses. He holds your head tightly in place, not allowing you a bit of space to move as he cums. “Take it all…yeah—”
A series of hushed, deep, groans escape from his mouth as thick splashes of cum spill into your mouth. The spurts pool on your tongue and the fullness of your mouth becomes too much to bear. Your warning slaps on his thighs let him know to let you come up, and with your cheeks bubbled to hold his release, you breathe your first breath of cool air.
He chuckles at your expression, holding out his hand for you to lean into once again. “Open up.”
You take a moment to swallow before brandishing your tongue to him. He grins proudly, glaring at you with a soft expression. You wrap your hands around his arm, kissing the heel of his palm before nuzzling your cheek against it again. Fluttery eyelashes are passed at him as you gingerly inquire, “Did I do good, Daddy?”
“Great, baby.” He confirms, sitting up. “I knew my girl could do it. You always can, always so good for me.”
The praises go straight to your core and reawaken the unfinished business he left you with. He knows what to say to make you melt and unfortunately, you do. Melting in his palm makes you susceptible to anything he says. It's only a given that when he asks you again, “You’re going to be my girl forever, right?” you answer immediately with a strong nod.
At that, his confident grin grows and he leans forward, pulling you into a kiss.
The taste of his cum is prominent on your tongue and he sucks the flavor off, gathering it in his mouth before distributing it back into yours. It's nasty and he repeats it until your head is hazy and you're chasing his lips. His hand around your neck is able to hold you up just centimeters away from his lips.
“Don’t forget who you belong to.”
━━━━━━
Yellow is your color.
Pierro thinks the color compliments you beautifully—like you were meant to bask under a golden kiss of sun. He likes the way it snugs in your curves, unable to hold back your supple skin with its thin tethers. It’s too much for the world to see — a sight supposedly for Pierro’s eyes only — but you trot around without a care in your bubbly head. That, in itself, does not bother him; Ajax on the other side of the door, does.
Ajax catching you in his arms bothers Pierro. The man can't help but stare from his viewpoint, following Ajax’s wandering hands from the small of your back to the curve of your ass. He unabashedly palms the skin and you only giggle, smothering his face in welcome kisses and strawberry lipgloss.
When your feet are back on the ground, you're nuzzling against him as if you’re scared of detaching from him, and he wears that same coy grin as always, wrapping an arm around your body as you begin to lead him toward the backyard. You speak indistinctly and Pierro’s envious glare seems to have no effect on you. Ajax senses it, however; and as though he is throwing it in Pierro’s face, he pulls you closer as his free arm raises to wave at your stepfather: “Hey, Mr. A!” Leaves his mouth cheerfully.
The grimace Pierro wears is only half-stifled and he doesn't care to fix his face. He nods at the young man, “Hello to you too, Ajax.”
You avoid his gaze skillfully but that look of guilt is not missed. That only irritates Pierro further: his thick eyebrows furrow and his lips waver downwards. If you know it's bad, why do you keep doing this?
It must be a beckoning of his attention—and if that’s the case, you have it wholly in the palms of your hands.
Again, you speak hushedly to your boy toy. Pierro’s eyes hone in on the movement of your lips: so soft, so tender, so kind as they murmur against Ajax’s ear. Whatever you say is undetermined by Pierro — but judging from the stiffly excited mannerisms Ajax thereafter enacts, he can only imagine.
“We were going to head out to the pool…” Finally, you address him.
Confidence is strongly prominent in your voice despite your trailing off. Compared to the soft, undefiant tone you usually direct toward your daddy, your strength is all-telling: Ajax has built up an over-confident backbone in you. Not so luckily for you, Pierro has no qualms about breaking it down.
So, instead of shooting his ire through glaring daggers, Pierro smirks. He smirks and shrugs with one shoulder, following the action by gulping down the final swig of his midday pick-me-up. “Alright then,”
“Have fun.” The words are supposed to be encouraging but, if anything, they're daunting.
The air gets tense, noticeably so. Ajax awkwardly clears his throat and the intense staring match you and Pierro hold is severed. Your eyes shift to the ginger and you force a convincing grin to pull at your lips. “Let's go.”
Ajax lets you lead the way, purposely avoiding looking at Pierro. In your thirty-second trek to the backyard door, his gaze only intensifies. Holes are burned into your back and you shoot straight up when his voice calls out to you again. You act as though you're in a horror movie: slowly turning your head over your shoulder for fear of what awaits your back end.
“The guests’ll be arriving soon,” he informs. “Your mother’s going to be back and finish setting up out there.”
His information seems to be his acknowledgment of your transgressions. You plan to defile his claim on you in the very home he takes you down in—he’ll be damned if you cross that line.
You’re playing a dangerous game with no incentive for you. As he departs, stalking away upstairs to get a clear view of your actions from his office, the thought that maybe, just maybe, his frustration is your incentive, brings a smile to his face.
That thought dawns the idea on him that he has created an insatiable, debauched monster, and it's in his hands to tame her.
To you, you don't know what you're doing.
You like Ajax. You like the way he treats you, the way he talks to you, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you—you’re chasing his lips desperately as he pins you against the wall of the pool, wanting to take him under the water and drown with him. Maybe then, that icky turmoil brewing in your stomach would subside.
You like Ajax; you want him. But you need Pierro. Even as your boyfriend kisses you feverishly, your eyes are wide and glued to the second-story window that you know Pierro is watching you out of.
He gives you something that you hate to require. Those big, buff arms wrap around you, and those chapped, experienced lips speak words of comfort to you that all your life, you've only ever wanted. Pierro promises to love you forever, be there for you forever, and protect you forever — he promises to be the sole male constant in your life: the only man you’ll ever need. You're inclined to believe him because he’s made everything you've ever wanted come true. But—Ajax; those things can come from him, too.
His kisses are softer than Pierro’s but just as impassioned—if not more. He’s receptive to your impatience, licking his way into your mouth and tangling his tongue with yours messily. Moaning into your mouth to let you know that the tugs on his hair feel good, gripping onto your waist to grind your clothed cunt against his knee, pulling apart and cracking a smile at the connected string of spit that hangs from your puffy lips, telling you in a hushed whisper “I missed you,” to butter you up and melt you in his palms. Ajax is nicer with how he treats you. He kisses down your neck to punctuate his sentence. His kisses halt their trail at the apex of your collarbone, leaving his eyes to peer up at you wantonly.
“I missed you too,” you breathe out. You did miss him and his delicacy. Your eyes flash up to the window and you feel relief at the unmoved curtains — returning your gaze to your boyfriend and smiling at him. Inviting Ajax to your parents’ pool party was your way of convincing yourself. What happened between you and Pierro can be replicated with someone who you can be with and someone who can be with you.
What you want is that trophy love: that pedestal in someone's heart for every envious eye to watch you atop of. You want to be loved loudly and proudly, and Ajax can do that and so much more, for you.
You tangle your fingers in his hair and he leans into your touch, craning leftward. He looks at you with wide, beating hearts in his eyes, and you bite your lip to hold back a smile. “I think we have a few minutes alone…”
Those hearts turn into a mischievous sparkle, “I can work with that.”
Quickly, he’s reconnecting your lips as his right hand wanders from your waist to beneath the fabric of your bikini bottoms. You gasp into your kiss as his middle finger surfs through your folds, immediately prodding at your entrance.
“Don’t tease,” you whisper, briefly looking over his shoulder. You catch a glimpse of movement behind the curtains and it halts your breath. “We don't have time,”
He laughs against your face, smooching from your lips to across your cheek and to your ear. He nips the lobe just as he pushes the tip of his finger in and you move your hold onto his shoulders, gripping tightly. His tongue flicks gently at your ear as his finger slowly inches in, and with its slender length, beats of quiet breathing and airflow pass before he’s knuckle deep. “You wouldn't mind getting caught,”
The digit is swiveled around before he presses the rough pad of his finger against your gummy sweet spot. You hold in a moan by biting your bottom lip but the sound leaks out in weakened whines. “You never have before.”
Anyone could see what you're doing and that thought births nothing but excitement coursing through your veins. Your pleasured scowl quickly stretches into a grin— and Ajax catches it, kissing your chin.
Soon, your hole is accommodating the entrance of his ring finger. The digits are thereafter scissored inside of your pussy and the water around the two of you ripples furiously. Your boyfriend has never been particular about being discreet and this occasion is no different—if anything, he’s showing off. At least, Pierro seems to think so.
Pleasure blinds your eyes so the man standing in the window is missed by you. Every bit of your awareness is being fingered out of you; Ajax’s agile fingers dancing around in your hole seemingly spooning out your senses. Nothing, save for the hot source of ecstasy pooling in your core, matters to you. You're grinding down on his fingers, whining out wantonly as low as you can but it's in vain—your sweet, pleasured hymns can be picked out by Pierro’s ears.
It irritates him but he does not stop watching. He can't—not when you're about to cum and you're gripping so tightly on Ajax. You're leaning over the edge of the pool and scratching your back against the rough gravel with desperate abandon. The movement of your lips is unidentifiable from his distance, but knowing you, you're probably pitifully begging for him to make you cum.
Ajax has the liberty of controlling your pleasure and he does so amateurly. When you plead once again, babbling out his name, Ajax obliges. He says to you, unheard by Pierro, “I’ve got you, baby. Cum on my fingers.”
His fingers curl and roll against your spot and your moans are ringing out unabashedly. If your mother or the guests were to arrive and stroll up your driveway, there’s no doubt they wouldn't be able to hear your laments over the bushes. Carelessly and blissfully, you sing your boyfriend’s praises as he presses you toward your climax, wriggling his fingers inside of your tightened hole through your orgasm.
Pierro watches you shake and jump under his touch and his eye twitches. Here you are, parading your freedom in front of him again. He’d turn you out and worse in that pool if it wasn't for your mother. She is his way to get to you and if she were to find out how he defiles her daughter in ways he doesn't dare do to her, he’d be deprived of his vice.
He doesn't notice the white knuckle grip he keeps on the window sill until his fingers begin to ache. Pierro is envious of a red-haired prick half his age and size and he couldn't be more embarrassed. It would be you—only you—to make these juvenile feelings rise so fervently within him.
The way Pierro feels for you is skewed and indecent and so, so raw. It’s unexplainable in simple words and he doesn't dare waste his breath on telling you sugary things to make you stay. He claims you, bares all of his imperfections to you as you do him, and anchors you to the bottom of his endless pit of debauchery alongside him. Yet, you can still swim out of his grasp and into the slimy hands of another like-minded, perverse predator and that won't do.
His body is moving before he can scramble up an excuse to intrude on the two of you. Unaware of his appearance, you're slipping your hand into Ajax’s swim trunks, passing your thumb over his slit featherlightly.
He sighs out shakily, grabbing your forearm. “We shouldn't start something we can't finish.”
You, full of confidence and arousal, flash your signature, convincing doe eyes up at him. “We should’ve thought about that earlier then.” You rebut, leaning in to kiss him just as you begin to pump his length.
Pool water is terrible lube but the softness of your hand makes up for it: Ajax is moaning into your kiss and lazily bucking into your hand. God, everything is so perfect right now. The warm sun, the cool water, the sweet breeze, the—
“You two already got in?!” Suddenly, the back door is sliding open and your mother steps out, hauling two large shopping bags in each hand. You and Ajax jump apart, trying your best to turn around and meet her inconspicuously.
She seems to not notice, but Pierro, who comes out after her, has that knowing look that when it greets you, all nervousness centers itself in your bones. Your mother had beaten him to the back door by a mere second. Had it gone his way, the two of you would be pissing yourselves shamefully.
Ajax picks up the slack of maintaining your cover: picking his feet up off the pool floor and kicking off the wall, swimming toward your mother. “Yeah, sorry, Mrs. A!” He apologizes, hoisting himself out of the pool to assist her. “We just wanted to test the water,”
He nods at you to come join and you quickly follow the notion, hopping out of the pool and walking around to where they stand. Your mother pulls floaties and noodles and boxes of miscellaneous decorations out of the bags, setting them down on the ground and table. With her gaze focused downward, you and Ajax are able to share looks over her back: his eyes sending you an assured glare and wink and yours sending back worried gleams.
“We’re good,” he mouths, and before you can give him a response, your mother stands up.
“How was it? It’s not too cold, is it?”
This time you answer her. “No; it was perfect.” You say, giving Ajax a look that tells him your words were meant for him.
Unbeknownst to your games, your mother cheers. “Great—I’m gonna freshen up and get changed. Can you…” she trails off and motions her hands around the abundance of new items. You catch her meaning and confirm her request with a nod.
As quickly as she appeared, she walked off and back into the house. Her missing frame gives Ajax the space to step closer to you, inching his hands around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
It's a gesture that, in all of its inherent sweetness, carries a suggestiveness that has you giggly and ticklish. You're unable to focus on the task in front of you and are instead fighting off the needy kisses from your boyfriend.
“Stop…” you laugh, your voice sounding wholly unconvincing.
He ignores your request, instead nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and kissing the skin tenderly. “I can’t stop,” he says, muffled. “You got me started—”
He squeezes you tighter and deepens the kiss on your neck. His tongue flicks and flattens against the skin and your smile flattens as you sigh out, instantly melting into him. Ajax knows just how to weaken you, a power he shares with Pierro, and you are too weak to fight it. Those kisses are targeted at the perfect spot that fogs your brain and withers your standing. Your mouth wavers as he marks a hickey on your skin, and the smallest, weakest moans tumble out of your mouth.
“Ajax…” you whisper warningly, “We can't.”
“We can.” He argues, moving from your neck to behind your ear. He knows just how to tempt you and just as susceptible as you are, you fall for it. “Where’s your room?”
You go to answer—but the sight of him in your peripheral has your mouth drying up.
Pierro finally takes his first step outside and the sight he beholds is sickening. His left cheek is balled around his tongue and his eyes are as critical as ever. You have to pat Ajax’s thigh to alert him and he’s pulling off of you, his pale complexion flushing a blazing red. “M-Mr. A! Uh—”
Uninterested in his haphazard excuse, Pierro cuts him off. “Your mother is asking for you.” Eyes boring into you elicit every bit of shame to course through you in hot embarrassment.
Without another word shared, you scurry off into the house, passing Pierro with only a brief brush of your skin. You can feel the irritation radiating off of him and you shudder under that realization.
You've made a mistake. A very, very big mistake.
━━━━━━
All you want is to be with Ajax. Wrapped in his muscular arms, under the crisp sun and the chill breeze—sipping on homemade lemonade and biting into flaky club sandwiches—it is all so perfect, so right, for you. With him, nothing goes wrong—and yet, nothing ever goes right.
Pierro never seems to lag too far behind the two of you. After assisting your mother in picking which sundress to slip into, returning to blissful, summer day peace with your boyfriend proved difficult.
You find him beside the grill with Pierro, awkwardly chatting it up with his hard-on painfully raging against the inside of his blue swim trunks. And just as you appear to pull him away, Pierro magically fishes up a task for him to do.
“You can't go with him,” he says. “The kids are getting antsy. Why don't you bring out some popsicles?”
And so you do. Returning with a bag of popsicles and handing them out to the numerous children running around your backyard. And when you finish, Ajax returns, huffing out deep breaths and dripping sweat. Luckily enough, one cherry popsicle was left over.
You’d finally managed to get Pierro off your back—your mother and her girlfriends required his immediate attention in the kitchen and drew him away from the backyard. So you and your lover are offered a moment of reprieve.
You straddle his lap, peeling the plastic off of the popsicle and tapping the treat against his lips. He’s receptive and takes the popsicle in, collecting the flavor on his tongue. You watch him intently, locking eyes with him and keeping that contact as you pull it away, leaning in to catch the taste of his mouth.
The cherry flavor is abundant and even sweeter on his tongue. Keeping it PG is out of the question when you're sucking on his tongue so feverishly—no longer chasing that cherry taste but instead him. You need him bad and judging from the twitching in his cock, he needs you just as bad.
“Baby,” he grunts, using one hand to cup the small of your back and the other to bring the popsicle back to his mouth. He tries to halt the subtle gyrating of your hips but you are determined to slot his shaft between your folds through your layers of swimwear. “It's too risky out here. Let’s go to your room.”
You laugh, beating him to it and briefly wrapping your lips around the top. “I never thought I’d hear you say it's too risky,”
“But, okay,” you sigh out, pausing your ministrations and sitting flat on his lap. “Let's go, then.”
Eager as could be, the two of you gather your things off the lounge chair and race to the inside of the house.
Successfully, Pierro’s attention is missed, and you make it up to your bedroom. Once the door is closed, you're jumping onto the bed with abandon and begin making out feverishly. Hours of built-up tension come crashing down upon you as he pins you down, wedging between your legs and rutting desperately against your pussy.
“Ah,” you moan out, arching up into him. His head is buried in the cavern of your chest, suckling and smooching along the valley. Your skin is supple and easy to latch onto—he’s losing himself in your scent and softness and taste. You pull at his hair, jerking your hips upward for more. “Please, ‘Jax; give it to me—”
Unbeknownst to you, Pierro is on the prowl. Hours have passed like minutes and soon the sky has melted into a rosy yellow and the guests have slowly begun to peel out.
His eyes search for the pair of you and upon coming up empty, his attitude is tweaked.
“Honey?” He calls out to his wife. As he returns to the inside of the house—sparing brief dismissals to the parting guests—he feigns sweetness toward her.
She, still occupied in the citywide gossip among her girlfriends, only lazily pays mind to the inquiry of her husband. “Um, hold on, dear—Tiff did what?!”
The group of women laugh and continue explaining the messy affair of some woman named Tiffany and Pierro could not care less. He doesn't care about Tiffany’s affairs; it’s yours that calls monopoly over his mind.
You must have been able to sneak off with your boy toy. Curse your attention-hogging mother. Had it not been for her, you wouldn't have been stripped from beneath his palm so stealthily.
Once he gets his hands on that ginger brat—
“I think I saw them go upstairs earlier.” She says it so passively, so dismissively, Pierro almost digests the information normally. Almost.
He doesn't even know which question to pose to get the answer he wants. So, he doesn't. He lets an irritated grumble fall from his mouth as he turns on his heels. Useless. She is ultimately useless and it’s times like this where Pierro wishes he’d met you first.
His footsteps echo up the stairs but to your jaded ears, they're nonexistent.
You sit atop Ajax now, rocking feverishly back and forth along his cock. Your hands are planted on his chest and his hands are on your waist, aiding you in your grinding. This is more passionate and needy than any other experience you've had with Ajax thus far, and the weak babbles of his name tumbling out of your mouth prove that.
Friction builds furiously in your heat and sends electric waves splashing through your veins. It’s what you've been looking for all day: a climactic, ardent affair to invoke the most needed orgasm of your life.
Maybe with this one, how you feel will be solidified.
You're rocking hard, knocking your headboard against the wall. Pierro can hear it as he approaches the top of the stairs and he wonders how much audacity you have.
The next few seconds are a blur: his footsteps approach, and so does your orgasm. You cry out your boyfriend’s name as he encourages your climax, and Pierro wraps his hand around the doorknob. You throw your head back as your orgasm seeps through the floodgates and the door swings open.
So far gone, so unaware in your blissful paradise that Pierro’s looming figure behind you doesn't matter to you. His presence is intense and suffocating and over your shoulder, Ajax catches the sight of him and stiffens up. Their eyes lock and every daring bone in his body is snapped to hustle you off of him. “Babe—”
“What?” You huff out, breathlessly. “I-I’m so close, ‘Jax—please…”
You peel your eyes open against their heavy will, looking down at your boyfriend. That shadow cast on the wall ahead of you catches your attention first. You recognize the silhouette but it isn't until you peer over your shoulder and catch that icy glare that you're all too fearful of—now, anyway.
In your shocked jumping off of Ajax, you manage to roll off the side of the bed and collapse to the floor with a screechy yelp. Ajax struggles to get himself together: fumbling around with his clothing and jaggedly standing up. “M-Mr. A—! I—”
The look Pierro sends has him clamming up and nervously laughing. There's no need for excuses or coy innuendos—you’ve been caught. Now, you need to be punished.
Without a second glance back, your boyfriend scrambles up his things and takes his leave. You want to call him back in, but all courageous function ceases to work before him. With Ajax gone, it's just you and Pierro, and never has that thought scared you before as it is now.
He closes the door and takes short, heavy steps toward you. You stay on the floor, folding your legs behind you and using your planted hands for stability. At this, the difference between the two of you is exaggerated: he stands tall and big over you, the curled bambi caught between a rock and a hard place.
Dense silence hangs in the air. Your lips quiver and shift, as though a jumble of words wish to spill but you don't allow it. You don't allow those tears that mist your eyes to fall out either, rapidly blinking back the flow of guilt. Just the unsure air he imposes makes you want to burst into tears and plead your case.
He continues to say not a word; taking a seat on your bed and only using his hand to direct you onto his lap. The motion is so small and insignificant but it terrifies you no less. Pierro is a jest: a jack of unforeseen trades and when he is ticked off, every nasty card up his sleeve comes out to play. You find yourself obliging with your head hanging low, saving yourself the intensity in his eyes.
When you sit, his arms embrace you. They slink around your waist and hug you into place but they are anything but comforting. It’s suffocating, it’s tense.
A moment is taken to breathe you in. Burrowing his nose against your neck and scrunching the feature distastefully at the overwhelming spicy scent atop your soft skin. Ajax— you smell like Ajax.
“I thought I made myself clear the last time.” The deep timbre of his whisper rumbles in your spine. It startles you straight and the confrontational air pulls out your weakness. You hate trouble, you hate being bad, you hate how he does this to you.
His breathing is soft on your neck. It tickles but it doesn't make you want to laugh. You want to cry and beg for his forgiveness. I’m sorry, Daddy, I really am! You think to cry. I’m yours, your good girl, Daddy!
Nothing comes out of you, so he continues. “I give myself to you because I care about you. Everything you could ever need is right here with me, so answer me: why?”
Your expression is pained and guilty. He knows you better than you do and he knows how to sucker punch your heart. You thought your day with Ajax would clarify the conflicting feelings in your heart, but your time with Pierro unwinds all assurity.
Tears roll down your cheeks and you struggle to put together a sentence. “Daddy…I—” you hic, a sob tumbling over your words. You turn into him and string your arms around him, weeping onto his shoulder and soiling his shirt. “I-I'm so confused…”
“What are you confused about?” His question holds not an ounce of sympathy. Still, he soothes your back with his palm, ushering out every guilty tear you weep. “I do everything for you, with you, to you—what could he be that I couldn't?”
Kind, gentle, tender, freeing. Ajax is the silk breather in your synthetic cage. He gives you a bright, lightening feeling that, against Pierro’s uncharted depths, saves you. You can't tell him that you’re finding love in Ajax. He’ll raise every dead flaw right out of you.
“Tell me what to do to make it better.”
You don't even notice his hands slipping under the cups of your bikini top. Your nipples are caught between his fingers, softly being tweaked and pinched until the tight pebbles stiffen the bud. Your cries gradually subside until you're sniffling and hiccupping, noticing his absent-minded ministrations and pulsing cock under your ass.
The worst part about realizing your position is that you don't want to escape. Maybe letting him have his way with you again will lessen the load on your shoulders. Anything to blur the confusing lines.
“Has he ever seen you cry like this?” He asks. You shake your head no. “He wouldn't even know what to do to make it all go away, would he?” No—you shake your head no. “What would you do without me? Huh?”
“I don't know.” You’d be normal, maybe. You wouldn't depend on him to fix what's always breaking inside you. You'd love and date and experience life without the debilitating crutch of your daddy there to hold you back.
With Ajax, nothing goes wrong but nothing goes right. With Pierro, everything goes wrong but everything feels so right.
So skewed, so lost, so unfounded, your relationship is the pinnacle of gnarled. He is the leader of your abyssal path and yet, also your savior from it. A world without him in it is hard to imagine — and when you're on his lap, in his arms like this, it’s hard to want to imagine it.
“You don't ever want to know, do you?” Again, no—you’re shaking your head no as though it’s the only motion you know how to do. “Then stop driving me away. Let me love you.”
He’s kissing over your skin, palming your boobs softly. It’s familiar and safe and you know that in the end, he’ll still be there. Etched in your skin and mind, reminding you that there's someone to fall into when life becomes too much. You can lean into Pierro with security—and just like that, all of your valiant agency is melted away.
“Okay,” is the only word you say, and it's the only word he needs.
━━━━━━
Nine days. Pierro has called you twelve times, texted you thirty-seven times, and has lost his mind three times in the nine days that you've been gone.
You're mad at him, he understands that now. He pushed you and drove you away, he understands that now, so why can't you answer his calls and talk to him?
“She needs space,” your mother says. She wraps her arms around him from the back and smoothes the wrinkles in his shirt. “She’s grown and in love and needs her space to flourish, Pi. Don't suffocate her.”
Okay. He would have left it alone at that. When you need him, you’ll come back; you always do.
But your mother could not let well enough be. “Besides, she’s with Ajax. They’ll be keeping each other company while we…”
The rest of that was lost in his head. Evidently, Pierro is not getting across to you. When he spoke to you that evening of the pool party, that was to be the last time that redhead’s name was thought of, and, yet, here you are, running into his arms.
It wouldn't drive him crazy if he didn't have you first. If everything you've ever known and done wasn't by his hand. You are his little girl, his prize at the end of a tiring marriage, his happy ending after a long day, his.
His instant joy— Ding!
Pierro’s phone is in his hand in seconds. The deep snores of his wife let him know that tiptoeing away won't be necessary. Your name, decorated in a sole red heart, pops up two more times, and before he unveils the messages, his mind swirls with the string of excuses you're probably typing out.
The texts are short and insignificant when he lays eyes on the attachment. A three-minute and forty-eight-second video with your glossy, smiley face in the thumbnail. He swings the door of his office shut and sits down, immediately pressing play.
You're giggling in the immediate beginning before your laughs are morphed into a string of moans. The angle fixates on your face, downturned and droopy in pleasure—a face Pierro is all too familiar with. Catching sight of it on the other side of a phone is angering, to say the least.
Wet slopping is heard in the foreground, competing with your moans for volume. It’s slow and romantic—in and out, in and out, in and out—each thrust eliciting a shallow hiss from behind the camera and a pleading whine from in front of it. The angle shifts just as he breathes out, his pale hand drifting from the side of your waist to massage your clit. “Like that, baby? That good for you?”
You hum in confirmation, bucking up into his hand. “S-so good—mmfh, ‘J-Jax—!”
He laughs behind the camera, zooming into your sloppy cunt. You're dripping: thick, glossy beads of slick pooling in your slit and spilling around his dick. It shines a gleaming reflection under the light of the flash and Ajax is quick to rapidly rub through and splash your arousal around. The clicking sound that elicits is viscid and resounding but the pleasured sobs you choke out are louder. He moves the camera up to your face, streaks of tears splashing down your hot cheeks.
His fingers intrude between your parted lips and you immediately slurp your arousal off his fingers. “So nasty…what if daddy saw you like this?”
The tone in his voice is teasing- patronizing, as though the total wreck you are before him is a joke. You open teary eyes to stare into the camera, a wide grin pulling at your lips around his fingers. Your pupils are wide and blown: an endless, dark pit of lust that when appearing on the phone seems as though it’s entrancing Pierro.
Your hands wrap around Ajax’s forearm—and you moan one last time around his fingers, swiveling your tongue around the digits before pulling them out. You bring his hand to wrap around your throat, grinning wide. Those lustful eyes leave the camera and presumably to Ajax behind the camera and your lips part slowly. “You are my daddy.”
“Oh, fuck,” Ajax mutters behind the camera, and the stability of the angle wavers. The pair of you share breathless laughs.
That motherfucker, Pierro thinks, gripping the phone tighter. In the final twenty seconds, Ajax curses under his breath, putting your pussy in view. His pace is a lot sloppier and desperate now and his voice cracks as he moans your name. “‘M gonna cum—”
You draw out a sharp whine, using your fingers to pinch and feverishly flick your clit. “Please..” you breathe out. “Cum in me, Daddy.”
The video ends. Pierro cannot believe his eyes nor his ears—you—he can't believe this.
He doesn't bother reading the next incoming messages. He’s already racing downstairs and yanking his keys off of the hook.
Pierro’s a jest and the joke is about to be on you.
