୨୧ ― Caleb has spent his entire adolescence and young adulthood rejecting every admirer who threw themselves at him- returning their homemade lunches, turning down their confessions, never once letting anyone get close enough to touch him like that.
He was too focused. Too loyal. Too busy dreaming about the girl who'd grown up beside him, the one whose birthday made up half of his passwords.
His girl.
And now, finally, after all this time, he has you exactly where he's dreamed of you for almost a decade- beneath him, looking up at him with those wide, trusting eyes.
God, she's really here. She's really letting me-
His internal thought cuts off when he hears your sweet voice.
"C-Caleb-," you whine pitifully, fat tears beginning to bead along your lower lashes as you squirm beneath him in his apartment you've slowly been turning into a home... "I- I don't think-"
"What's wrong?" He sounds almost boyish in his confusion, purple eyes soft with concern as he brushes sweaty hair from your forehead, "Did I do something-"
"S'too big."
He blinks, tilting his head like the adorable idiot he is, "I'm... no, I'm sure I'm average? I mean, I haven't really compared, but…" his words trail off…
Caleb can do nothing but stare...
How your poor little cunt is struggling, quivering, lips stretched obscenely trying to swallow the first few inches of him...
His length is ridiculous- he realizes that now with sudden, dawning clarity, watching nearly half of his shaft still jutting out from where your bodies meet.
Despite how wet he's gotten you with his fingers and tongue and desperate grinding- despite the slick mess coating your inner thighs, the way you'd gushed around two of his knuckles, the way you'd soaked his chin when he'd eaten you out… you're still barely able to take him.
He'd always assumed those whispered comments from classmates back in high school were idle gossip. Locker room flattery he was too humble to believe -even now during showers on the fleet-. Girls giggling behind cupped hands, guys clapping his shoulder with that knowing look...
But now-
Fuck.
Now he understands as he watches you try to adjust.
Watching how your belly flutters with each shallow breath, watching your thighs tremble where they're spread wide around his hips. Watching the visible bulge of himself pressing up against the soft give of your lower stomach when he sinks another inch deeper and you let out this broken little whimper that makes his balls tighten.
He's ruining you. Reshaping you. Your tight little hole wasn't built for this, wasn't made for a cock this fat, this long, this mean- and he can't decide if the thought makes him want to pull out and apologize or grab your hips and bury himself to the hilt just to watch you fall apart.
"Shh, shh, hey." His voice has dropped low, rougher than you've ever heard it, and there's something dark flickering in those usually playful eyes. That possessive edge he's hidden for years, now surfacing as he stares down at where his thick cockhead is trying desperately to sink into your fluttering hole, "I've waited so long for this, Pips... For you. We're going to make it fit, okay? I'll take care of you, just like i always have."
His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing away the tears that threatened to spill. So gentle. So caring. So him.
And then his other hand pins your hip to the mattress as he snaps forward, burying every fat inch inside you in one brutal thrust.
"AHHH- CALEB!!" Your scream tears through his quiet apartment, back arching clean off the sheets as your cunt is forced to stretch around him, walls clenching and spasming helplessly against the intrusion.
It's too much -he's too much-, splitting you open on a cock that has no business being attached to a man who watches you like that. All soft, starving devotion. A loyal pup at the feet of its goddess, even while he wrecks you.
"Pips- oh, fuck, there we go," Caleb groans, and his voice is absolutely wrecked, those pretty eyes rolling back slightly as he bottoms out. His pelvis grinds against yours, the root of him stuffed so deep you can feel him in your goddamn stomach. "You're so tight- shit, is it always like this? Is this-"
"Y-you're my f-first too, you idiot," you sob, and something breaks in his expression.
First. I'm her first. She waited for me too.
"Oh, Pipsqueak," he breathes, and now both hands are cradling your face while his hips stay perfectly still to let you adjust. His cock twitches inside you, and you keen. "My sweet girl. I didn't know. I didn't-" He drops his forehead to yours, breath ragged, "I thought- I would've been gentler, I would've-"
"N'just-" You gulp for air, body quaking, "just stay still. M'need to -hah- adjust"
He nods, pressing apologetic kisses all over your tear stained face while his massive length pulses inside your stretched out cunt. But even as he soothes you, that darker part of his mind is calculating.
If I keep her on my cock long enough... if I fuck her through it over and over... her body will learn. She'll mold to me. Only me. She won't be able to take anyone else after this...
Good.
And when your walls finally relax enough for him to move, rolling his hips in a slow, devastating grind that makes your eyes roll back... Caleb learns something else about himself that night...
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caleb checks if he'd fit inside
size difference, size kink, excessive use of gege
He was kind, and gentle, and patient. That was how you knew him. Even when tension radiated off his body after a long absence with the fleet. Even when you pestered him, pushed him, secretly hoping he might snap and finally, finally let you make it better.
It's no different now, as he sits there across from you, helping you finish a model plane you'd been working on for weeks.
You crawl across the carpet to him, frustrated with the fiddly parts. "I can't make them fit," you pout, holding out two pieces for inspection.
"Hm?" he hums, placing his own little piece of the project down beside him. "Let me see."
You watch him work on slotting the two parts together, his large, vascular hands manipulating the delicate plastic with a gentleness that reminded you of yourself––of the restraint he showed when holding you.
He was bigger, after all. So much bigger. All of him.
"There," he says, holding out the expertly joined pieces for you to take. "They fit."
"You forced them."
He looks at the pieces, then to you. "Nah, they fit perfectly. See?" He gestures for you to take them––to see for yourself.
You refuse, unmoving.
He tilts his head. "What's wrong?"
"You're stronger than me."
His lips twitch a little in one corner. "Only a little."
You shake your head, frowning.
"Alright," he says, "Much stronger. Happy?" He asks, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
"And bigger."
His eyes drop, analysing, like he hasn't noticed before. Then, a little smile. "Only a little."
You crawl a little closer. Settling on your knees in front of him. "Much bigger."
"Is that right?" he questions, amused.
"Look," you say, holding your palm up for him to meet with his own. His eyes make a slight flick away from your face to your joined hands—to the way his fingers curl over yours comfortably.
"Maybe I just have very… very, large hands," he says as his fingers make a path down your palm to wrap around your wrist. His eyes flick across your face. Then, "Should we check the rest of me, too? Check how much bigger I am?"
He was teasing. Playing. Testing. You could turn around and return to your model, and he'd continue on just as he had before: a calm, warm presence.
Instead, you untuck your legs from beneath you, and keeping your eyes on his, you lower yourself onto your back––hair splayed out across the carpet. He’s pulled a little towards you as he refuses to release your wrist, angling down over you.
A pause.
"Alright," he says finally, much like he had when you'd passed him your two difficult plane parts. "Let gege see."
He lifts himself to his knees and shuffles even closer. Then he lifts your legs and arranges them around his waist and hips, slotting himself up against you.
"Hm," he hums, looming over you, blocking out the sun through the window behind him. "You do look very small like this." His hand snakes up your thigh. A smile pulls at his lips. "You'll stay still for me while I check, won't you? You can be good for gege and stay nice and still.”
Despite your nod––a silent promise to obey, to be good––he keeps his grip on your ankle as he works to undo the button at his waistband. Control. You didn’t mind it at all. Control was safe.
And when he shoves his pants down just below his ass, he closes the gap between you again, pressing himself between your thighs.
His movements are slow, precise, like they’d been as he manipulated the tiny little plastic pieces. A hand snaking its way up your calf. His warm palm wrapping around your thigh as his heavy cock, confined in dark briefs, rests against your white cotton underwear.
“See?” you squeak as he rocks his hips once against you. “All of you is bigger. We wouldn’t fit.”
“Wouldn’t fit?” he questions, mocking.
Then, without warning, he hooks his thumb into the waistband of his briefs and tugs them down to free himself. Hard, and a little pink at the tip, it adds to his looming presence over you.
Using one hand to hold your hips slightly off the ground, up against him nice and close, he uses the other to press his cock down against your belly.
His head tilts a little.
“I could make it fit,” he announces, sounding a little distracted, eyes fixed where he measures himself against you. “Would stretch your pretty little hole open,” he says. “Might hurt a little… But you could bite my hand, yeah? You can take it out on gege.”
You shift a little, starting to squirm.
“Might just take the tip…” he continues as his hand works a little over himself. “But if you were really good for me… so, so good… you could hold on to me tight and let me sink all the way inside… would fill your belly up nice and deep… but we’d fit. Gege promises.”
"happy father's day," you joked after catching a glimpse of a father's day sign pasted on a window.
you clung to his arm, your sickly-sweet perfume assaulting his senses.
"don't do that," he'd grumble, reluctant to look your way.
he could already predict the pout you'd be wearing on your pretty, glossed lips, not keen on losing his composure in the middle of the mall.
"do what?" you continued, acting blissfully unaware, pushing every last one of his buttons.
"don't be a tease."
"oh come on, you're no fun!" you'd whine, arms crossed across your chest like a petulant child.
"is that so?"
before you knew it, he had you pushed against the wall of a bathroom stall, wrists held together against your back in his larger hand.
his eyes were full of lust and irritation at your defiance, your smug expression ticking him off.
"o-oh my goshh, s-slow down, pleaseee!"
"why would i? i'm no fun, right?" he taunts, picking up the pace despite your pleas, unrelenting thrusts leaving you squirming beneath him.
your nails dug into the muscular flesh of his broad back, feeling him stretch out your swollen cunt.
"think i'd listen to you, brat?"
"n-noo, c'moonn, you know i-i didn't, nghhh, mean-"
"shh, you need your mouth full too now?" he patronized, thumb pressed against your tongue.
your gummy walls clench around his thick length, noises of pleasure muffled by his digit.
"fuckin' hell, squeezin me so tight," he'd groan, hips snapping against yours as he drove himself deeper, tip brushing against your cervix deliciously.
you could tell he was close, movements growing sloppier.
your eyes roll back as you feel your own climax hit you, moans vibrating against the finger stuck in your mouth.
his breathing grew laboured, grunts of ecstacy filling the room, mixing with your soft mewls.
"g'nna fill you up so good." he kept himself buried deep in you, hot seed coating your sensitive walls.
he pulled out abruptly, watching the creampie drip between your slick-coated thighs.
he smeared the saliva over your parted lips, marvelling in the sight of your fucked-out face.
SYNOPSIS: Your childhood best friend, Rin, can’t cum without hearing your voice.
WARNINGS: nsfw, smut, masturbation, dubcon (?), aged up characters, unknowing reader, mentions of virginity, reader is discussed to have female anatomy, dirty talk
AUTHORS NOTE: first time writing smut, kinda nervous (this is definitely ooc mb guys ☹️)
<< part two >>
You and Rin have been friends since childhood, attached by the hip. He only ever confided in you. Seeking you out after anything happened, if he lost or won a game, if someone was pissing him off on the team, how big his ego has become. And you were always there, ready to support him through any of it.
He had liked you for years now. Ever since you showed up to his first football game holding a giant banner you made for him.
Rin told himself that he would never act on those feelings, especially considering the fact you didn’t share them.
But here he found himself, laying on his bed, pent up at 2:34 am, with no sign of release.
It was embarrassing, but Rin only ever masturbated to scenarios of you.
You bent over, wearing one of those short skirts you seemed to like so much. Or you helping him with all of his football frustrations.
He groaned, and inched his hand down to his boxers, cupping his half-hard cock. Rin wanted so badly to know what you sounded like, what your sweet pussy would feel like around him.
He moved his hand to pull his erection out, rubbing the leaky tip gently. Rin let out a whimper due to the feeling.
Slowly, he began to slip his hand up and down his cock, trying to imagine it was your hand instead. Oh how sweet you’d be to him, telling him how proud you were and how good he was being.
The thought alone has Rin curling his toes.
But no matter how many times he pictures you, it doesn’t work. He’s been at it for thirty minutes now, coming up with different scenarios.
You sneaking into the locker room after a game, rewarding rin for all of his hard work. He’d drop to his knees and lift up your skirt, admiring how wet you already were from just the thought of him.
Then, he’d use two fingers to slide your panties to the side, licking a long stripe across your folds. You’d shove your fingers in his hair, trying to hold onto anything for stability as he ate you out like a starved man.
After making you cum all over his tongue, he’d let you paw at his pants, trying to get his cock out. You’d moan at the pure sight of it, and try to pleasure him with your hands, but he wouldn’t let you. He’d pin you to the wall, and shove the whole thing into you at once, watching your face as he splits you open. He’d thrust into you at an inhuman pace, making you beg for more.
Normally, he would’ve already been done jacking off at the thought of eating you out, but for some reason he couldn’t reach his climax.
His thoughts are interrupted by the buzz of his phone.
“Fuck.”
Rin keeps one hand stroking his cock, and used the other one to answer the incoming call without bothering to look at the caller id.
“Hello?”
“Rinnie! I’ve been calling you for ages!”
At the sound of your voice his cock pulses, forcing him to bite back a moan.
“Mhm, what do you need so late?” he asks trying to fighting back any sounds, putting your voice on speaker as he throws his phone somewhere in the sheets.
“What’s with the attitude? Someone’s oughta put you in your place!”
Rin’s hips buckled up to meet his hand at the thought of you putting him in his place. Spitting in his face and being rough with him.
All that can be heard through the call is the sound of Rin’s hand moving up and down his fully hardened cock.
“What are you doing? There’s like a weird wet sound.”
“N-nothing—ngh,” Rin can barely contain himself as he comes closer and closer to his release. As he approaches it, he also becomes more bold.
“Have you—shit—ever uhm masturbated?”
You gasp on the other end of the phone, “why are you asking that!” You can feel your face flush.
The smacking sound from Rin’s end only gets louder.
“Do you touch yourself—t-thinking about me?”
“Rin! What are you saying?”
You can really feel the flush now, but not only on your face. You begin to feeling the tingling sensation inbetween your thighs, squeezing them together to get some comfort.
Rin almost laughs at the way your voice cracks with nerves. “Are you—hah—still a virgin?”
“y-yeah, but there’s nothing wrong with that! I’m saving myself.”
Rin could’ve came right there. Picturing himself to be the one to ruin you, making you a cock-drunk whore for him.
He feels his climax coming, the wet sound becoming more intense as his moans become harder to fight back.
“T-tell me, ah—what do you think about when you rub that pretty clit”
You squeeze your thighs harder together, “I think of you..”
“me doing what, sweet girl? use that voice”
You try to ignore the embarrassment coming over you. “You making me take the whole thing, pounding into me without a break”
“w-what whole thing?”
“Uhm—your”
“cmon, I know you can say it”
“your cock..”
And with that, Rin finally meets his release. Cumming all over his chest and hand, he lets out a loud moan.
“Rinnie? Were you.. um”
Catching his breath, Rin grabbed the phone. “Mhm, do you want to see the mess you made me?”
“Y-yeah”
Rin facetimes you and turns on his camera. Flipping to the back one, he reveals his predicament. His cock was still half hard, and the tip was flushed red. Streaks of cum were left all over his chest, thighs, and hand.
“All that for you,” he says with a groggy voice.
“It’s pretty,” you murmur
Rin lets out an exhausted laugh, “hm, you should see it in person.”
“maybe I will.”
The next morning, Rin almost tries to strangle himself out of pure embarrassment.
He was so sleep deprived that he didn’t think about what he was doing at all.
How stupid could he have been to do that to you? Oh god, you probably thought he was a creep now. And on top of it, you were coming by his house in an hour to hang out.
Would you mention it? Or maybe you just wouldn’t come.
He could only dream, because sooner rather than later, your knock could be heard at the door.
“This is either going to be the best or worst hangout of my life,” he sighs to himself one last time before opening the door.
“H-hi Rinnie!” the sound of your nervous voice hits him like a train.
Unable to control his composure, his face reddens.
“Come in, let’s go to my room.”
As he shuts his bedroom door behind you two, he expects you to shout at him, call him a pervert, anything.
But what he didn’t expect was for you to climb onto his lap and ask if you could see it in person.
One missed shot, that was all it took for people to suddenly forget who Rin Itoshi is.
The same people who used to worship him are now calling him "overrated," "washed," "selfish," saying he "choked under pressure"
Your blood boils instantly.
"What the hell is wrong with these people?!"
You're sitting on the couch in one of Rin's oversized shirts, aggressively typing replies with the determination of someone entering battle.
"He missed ONE shot." "Do you people think athletes are robots?" "Everyone else misses too, why are you acting like Rin committed a crime?"
You get more and more offended with every comment you read.
Meanwhile, Rin is still on his way home.
He expected silence, maybe disappointment because he already knows the internet is tearing him apart. He can imagine the headlines, the insults, the mocking edits.
Usually, he'd just deal with it alone. But the second he opens the front door—
"RIN!"
You storm toward him looking genuinely devastated.
His eyebrows furrow immediately. "...What happened?"
"What happened?!" you repeat in disbelief. "People are being horrible to you!"
Before he can even respond, you start ranting again.
"They're acting like you're not human! It was ONE shot! ONE! And now suddenly everyone thinks they can disrespect you?!"
Rin just stands there quietly while you continue rambling angrily.
Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes look watery from frustration and you're looking personally attacked by the comments.
And somehow… Rin completely forgets about the missed shot.
Because now all he can focus on is you.
The way you're pacing around the living room while holding your phone like it personally offended you, the way you keep defending him like your life depends on it, the way your voice shakes with genuine hurt for him.
"They don't even know how hard you work," you mumble sadly. "You were probably already upset and then they made it worse..."
Rin feels something tight twist painfully in his chest.
Not from the match or the comments.
From love.
Because instead of thinking about himself, he's suddenly staring at you like you're the most precious thing in existence.
You care this much, this deeply and for him out of all people.
How did he get so lucky?
"You should see the way I replied to them," you continue angrily. "Actually no, don't. I almost started fighting thirty different people."
"Almost?" Rin says flatly.
You look away.
"Okay maybe I did."
He exhales quietly through his nose.
God, you're too adorable, too sincere, too loving. He feels like his heart genuinely cannot handle it.
You're over here fighting strangers online with tears in your eyes because someone dared insult him.
Meanwhile the actual person who missed the shot is no longer sad at all, because now he's too busy staring at you with that intense, unreadable look in his eyes.
"What?" you ask, still pouting.
Rin suddenly pulls you against him, hard.
You yelp softly as he buries his face into your shoulder.
"...Rin?"
He stays silent for a few seconds. Then quietly—
"I don't care about the shot anymore."
Your expression softens instantly.
"...Really?"
"Yeah."
His arms tighten around your waist.
Because honestly? How is he supposed to feel miserable when someone loves him like this?
You get furious for him, you get sad for him.
You defend him like the insults are aimed at your own heart.
And Rin, someone who spent most of his life alone with his emotions, doesn't know what to do with that kind of love sometimes.
It overwhelms him in the best way possible.
"You're insane," he mutters against your skin.
You gasp dramatically. "For defending you?!"
"For caring this much."
"Well obviously I care this much," you say like it's the most normal thing in the world. "You're my boyfriend."
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your best friend satoru doesn’t mind being your human bra.
he takes the job seriously, too. you’re so careless with the whole decency thing—padding around the apartment in a flimsy tee and nothing underneath, nipples practically announcing themselves to the world. so he takes it upon himself to preserve your modesty, never mind that his methods involve nothing more than palming your tits the second there’s company.
so when the doorbell rings, satoru is already plastered to your back, chin balancing on the top your head while hands slide beneath your shirt, kneading, pinching. you’re fishing for your wallet, but your knees wobble when his thumbs tease over hardened peaks in a way that’s way too absentminded to be purely altruistic. big blue eyes staring dead at the delivery guy, like he’s the gatekeeper of your decency, protecting you one squeeze at a time.
by the time the door shuts, he’s sighing like he’s carried the weight of his the world in his hands.
“you’re welcome,” he mumbles into your ear, giving your boobs one last heroic grope before finally letting go.
from aki ♡ crying happy tears as I type this :’) my heart is full! thank you @pink-nube for bringing satoaki to life <33 it was so incredible to work with you!
We arrive at the island city. I look for clothes to blend in and begin to change behind some shady nook. Our backs are turned to one another with him covering for me and I can sense him sneaking a look or two.
“Stealing isn’t nice, princess.”
“I steal clothes, you steal glances when you’re not supposed to. I say we’re even.”
“Sorry, was I not supposed to? My bad, I’ll be more careful next time.”
...
“You sure I don’t need a disguise?” Satoru asks as he and I cut through the crowd.
“Everybody here’s drunk, high, or horny. Trust me, no one’s going to recognize you.”
“Which one are we?”
“Whichever one we please. Evidently, I’m an expensive date who bagged a wealthy merchant. Or we’re two strangers who just happened to have found each other, both aching to rub one out. Or maybe... one’s looking for trouble, and the other one clueless.”
“Or a naughty runaway princess enjoying her night of freedom with an old friend. Or maybe, we're just two people who tonight wouldn’t choose to be anywhere else but here, with anyone else but each other.”
“Yes. I suppose, we could be.”
“I suppose we already are.”
“The island city follows only the laws of the heart, Gojo Satoru. Tonight, we are who we choose to be. After all, ‘the night is ours’. That’s what they say here in ██.”
You’re an Omega with rare, selective instincts, untouched by every Alpha you've ever met. That is, until you catch a scent that stops you cold and ignites a hunger you’ve never known. It leads you straight to Park Jongseong—the quiet Alpha who barely acknowledges your existence.
Now, every encounter becomes a quiet war with your own body. You try to ignore the pull, and yet, you can’t shake the fear that he might be the only Alpha your instincts will ever respond to… and the only one your heart will ever want.
content tags/warnings: omegaverse (alpha!jay x omega!reader), slooowburn, emotional angst, female pursuer trope, pinning, marking, touch starved mc, nonchalant jay, she fell first and he fell HARDER trope. uhm humor?... pick me behavior, looots of second hand embarassment. eventual smut (explicit warnings will be listed on the chapter), long ass wc so brace yourself. MDNI.
note: if you are not into complicated characters with deep internal conflicts then this might be the story for you. feedback is welcome, but hate toward any characters will not be tolerated—any such behavior will be reported and blocked immediately.
1: MAKE ME YOURS ─── you want him? soo hard to get him.
2: PROVE I'M YOURS ─── and... the table has been turned.
2.2: I'M YOURS... OR NOT? (RATED M)
3: ALWAYS YOURS ─── just confused alpha trying to "emotionally communicate".
something like first day of school scenarios with their kids — dropping them off or picking them up from school.
love your works💕💞💕
itoshi sae, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, michael kaiser
hi lovely, sorry it took me long. but here you go, enjoy :)
📚itoshi sae
"don't talk to boys," "what your papa means is be friendly—" "not too friendly," sae cuts you off. "friendly but not too friendly. got it!" natsuki beams. she turns to leave but halts when her papa calls her name. a little pause. then natsuki understood. ofcourse she does. she's such an emotionally intelligent kid. she runs back to sae as he catches her into a hug. "ma too!" natsuki hugs you too before rushing in.
sae was like twenty minutes too early there by the school gates, give or take. when the final bell rang, kids rushed out, running towards their parents. sae spotted natsuki. she wore a paper crown on her head, "they made me the queen!" she says as she hugs her papa's waist. you chuckle, "main character everywhere." sae crouches down to her, fixing her crown, "did anyone bother you?" "nope!" "good."
📚itoshi rin
"she's too little for this." "rin, she's of the right age." rin clicks his tongue, "she can fit into my pocket." "no papa! im tall!" "...right," rin crouched to sakura, "you remember what i said?" "mhm!" "say it." "stick close to natsu. stay away from weirdos. push them back harder if they push you—" "itoshi rin," you interrupt, pinching his arm. sakura give you both a last kissy on cheek before walking in, holding hands with natsuki. sae from the side: now you know how it feels.
"no fighting," rin warns to his twin menaces. you fix both of their hair and uniform and backpack, telling them to be nice. "we're nice," says shouma. "always nice," souta adds, grinning mischievously. rin pinches the bridge of his nose. "no complaints, you both hear me?" "yes papa." "and eat the food ma made." "yes papa."
sakura joined when it was time to pick the twins up. they both rushed to their big sister first things first. "caused any trouble?" "nope! just some woman there telling us to quiet down." "that 'some woman' is your teacher."
the itoshi sibling: natsuki, sakura, souta and shouma go to the same school. but as they grew, natsuki went to a different school, sakura did too, and the twins stayed.
📚isagi yoichi
as much as yuki was excited, she was nervous too. her eyes said it all. yuki always was so introverted. "papa?" she calls, "what if no one approaches me?" "then kiddo, you take the initiatives." "what if they don't want to talk to me? what if they're mean." "that means they're shy," he assures, "but hey, you'll know when they're being mean. if that happens, you tell teacher, ok?"
after school hours, yoichi was happy, waiting for his babygirl to be back. "yochan, you're too optimistic today." "ofcourse i am," the final bell rings and the kids rush out, there was yuki too. she looked happy but lost, "there's my kid," yoichi says, lightly nudging you, "oi kiddo! papa's here!"
kaito clung onto your side, asking if he really has to go. you bend down to push his hair back and cup his face, "you'll be fine. you're brave." yoichi bends down to kaito, "yuki will be there, yeah yuki?" yuki smiles, saying that she'll protect her little brother. "if anything, just look for your nee-san alright?" you wipe the tear with your sleeve that managed to trail down kaito's cheek.
after hours, there was kaito, trailing behind as he held yuki's hand. he sees you and zooms to you. "how was it, champ?" yoichi asks, "...it was good...but i just wanna stay home."
📚michael kaiser
anne was not having it. that's till michael bends to gently pull on her pigtail, telling that knowledge isn't a punishment. and that she's lucky to go to school and study. michael didn't really get a proper education, and he's not gonna let anne walk the same path. "but papa, what if others are rude?" "then we sue them—" you pinch his arm before he could complete. "we do NOT sue them." "right. we do not sue them. we just call their parents and give them an earful," he says making you sigh, "what we do first is tell the teacher. ok princess?"
after the last bell indicates dispersal, michael straightened from leaning against the gates. there she rushed out, holding a folded piece of paper. michael scooped her, kissing her forehead, asking about her day, "i drew us! the three of us!!"
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bestfriend ؛ caleb secretly jerking off to your pretty voice
he’s sprawled on his bed, the sensual darkness of the room and the glow of his phone casting shadows as he scrolls to your name, his thumb hesitating before hitting call.
his other hand’s already in his sweatpants, gripping his already hard cock just thinking about you, he shouldn’t want this but badly does.
“hey!” you light voice crackling through the phone, and it hits him like a spark, his breath hitching, hand moving slow, stroking himself, his eyes fluttering shut.
“miss me already, caleb? It’s barely been a week.” your tone’s teasing, unaware of the effect you’re having, and he groans softly, low, trying to keep it quiet, his heart racing.
“fuck, yeah, i miss you,” he says, voice a little strained, his hand moving faster, the sound of your voice making him throb, his hips shifting on the bed.
“been thinkin’ about you, pipsqueak,” he adds, his breath obviously uneven as he strokes the thick of his tip, slowly shamelessly imagining your face.
you laugh softly, the sound sending a jolt through him, his grip tightening, groans muffled as he presses the phone closer to his ear.
“aw, caleb, you’re so sweet,” you say, and he can hear you moving, maybe settling on your couch, the faint rustle of fabric making him picture you, relaxed, unaware of how you’re unraveling him.
“what’s got you all acting like that? miss my pretty face or something?” he bites his lip, his hand moving faster, cock leaking, his breath hitching, a low, whiny groan slipping out before he can stop it.
“shit, you have no idea.” he mutters, almost a growl, his eyes squeezed shut, your voice painting vivid images in his mind.
“caleb, you okay?” you ask, his voice sounded wrong, too wrong. “you sound… weird. you good over there?”
“yeah, im—im fine.” his breathe hitched, his hand never stopping, the sound of your voice pushing him closer.
“just—keep talkin’ pipsqueak, please?” he says, his hips shifting more as his cock throbbed under his hand, your voice the only thing he needs right now.
you were a drooling mess, your legs pushed up to your chest while caleb was relentlessly pounding into you, the blunt head of his cock battering your cervix and stretching your walls with his girth. your creamy pussy clenched instinctively each time he thrusted, as sounds of skin slapping filled the room from how sloppy your cunt was getting from his constant assault.
he was completely gone — whining, hair clinging to his forehead while he stared down at you with desperate, hooded eyes, and letting out a shaky laugh when he feels your pussy clamp down on him again, panting, "f-fuck, you're so tight, baby... gonna cum inside, sweetheart."
your thighs twitched in his grip, body trembling under him as you whimpered through your gasps, head tossing from side to side. you whined, practically squealing when his cock hit that perfect spot again, “y-yeah? please cum, cum inside, 'leb- fill me up, need it so bad…”
his moan was guttural, body shuddering as he leaned down over you, forehead pressed against yours. “wanna give you a baby,” he whined into your ear, going feral as he kept fucking into your frothy pussy. each thrust made your body jolt beneath him, his heavy balls slapping right against your clit. you could feel him throb deep inside you, and he felt the pressure building more and more in his core, the tight knot ready to break. “want you round and full with my kid, s-shiiit, can you feel it, pips? haahhh! g-gonna make a mess in your perfect pussy, sweets.”
you sobbed, walls fluttering helplessly around his cock and back arching as he drove into you harder, chasing his release while your brain was melting from how deep he was hitting. “uhhuh, uhhuh, p-please,” you cried. “want your baby- wan' it, caleb!"
he licked the tears off your cheek with a needy moan while his thrusts were getting more frantic now, barely holding himself together. with one last thrust, his hips slammed flush against yours, cock throbbing violently as he spilled deep inside. you both sobbed through it — your pussy spasming as you came with him, milking every drop while he gasped against your throat, “o-oh fuck, fuuuck, that’s it, thaaat’s it, take it, i- hnnngh-love you, sweet girl."
you could barely breathe, stuffed full and trembling, your cunt pulsing around him as more whines left your mouth. caleb didn’t pull out, instead choosing to rock his hips forward in tiny thrusts, his mind hazy as he was completely pussydrunk.
“stay just like this,” he stutters. “k-keep me in, sweetheart. keep it all in… gonna fuck it into you, give you my baby.."
Whenever Caleb works out in your living room, you watch his back muscles ripple with each movement. His sweat makes the white tank top cling to his back like second skin, the fabric almost sheer from the perspiration. And when he finishes, he peels his tank top off, the sight moving in slow motion for you like he’s in some sort of beach commercial. You can't help but ogle him.
When you guys are walking home and you complain that your feet hurt, Caleb kneels down, his back to you and signals you to get on. You do without a second thought. When Caleb stands back up, you feel his back underneath you. Your legs around his waist and your head resting on his shoulder. You can feel his everlasting warmth even in the chill of the cold night.
At night, when your legs are spread to their limit, with Caleb’s shoulders in between them. Your apple-patterned panties are pulled to the side by his large hands. He looks up at you with love-drunk eyes as his needy mouth works over your wet cunt. You push yourself up on your elbows and card your hands through Caleb’s soft hair. His freckled back looks so enticing in the low light of your bedroom.
The next morning, you blearily blink your eyes open. Caleb isn’t sleeping beside you, but the smell of waffles means he’s making you breakfast. As you walk to the kitchen with a slight limp in your step, you see Caleb in his full glory. His beautiful back is marked by your nails, emphasised by the cute pink apron tied around his waist. You wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his firm back.
“Mornin Pipsqueak, breakfast will be ready soon.”
Pressing kisses into his skin, you mumble, “Thanks, love you.”
it was supposed to be a casual afternoon. you’d just come back from a morning jog with isagi, now cooling off on the couch. sunlight steamed lazily through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues of honey.
he sat beside you, head tilted back against the cushions, damp hair clinging to his forehead. the light made his lashes glow gold, cheeks still faintly pink from the run.
the moment those words left your mouth, his head snapped toward you, eyes wide like you’d just grown wings.
“what—what are you saying that for?” he stammered, turning so fast his knee bumped yours. “i haven’t even gotten you a ring yet—!”
“so you want to?” you asked, teasing him a little.
he froze for a moment, the tips of his ears burning red.
“...yeah,” he mumbled with a nod. “why wouldn’t i?”
your fingertips gently grazed his jaw, and he leaned into your touch instinctively.
“i’ll say yes, no matter what.” you cupped his cheek, feeling the soft heat of his skin beneath your palm.
he took your hand in both of his, thumb tracing small circles across your knuckles.
“i’m gonna buy you the best ring in the world,” he whispered, eyes gleaming in pure adoration.
“What will I be if I don’t graduate/don’t get a promotion/don’t get my shit together/don’t make this relationship work?” You would be a perfectly normal human being who is inherently valuable and who possesses many talents and good traits
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Summary: Every Wednesday your schedule consisted of attending classes during the day, and satisfying the needs of a sadist through the night.
Warning: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Violence, Kidnapping, Isolation, SociallyAnxious!Reader, Blindfolds, Stalking, Knives, Blood, Gore, Stockholm Syndrome, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Insertion, Fingering, Rough Sex, Erotophonophilia, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Dacryphillia, Sadomasochism, Gunplay, Deepthroating, Breeding Kink, Unprotected sex
A/N: Hell is empty
4k Words
You're strapped in a chair, like always, and you are blindfolded because he doesn't trust easily.
It's terribly annoying.
At any point of during and after your little 'arrangement' you could have called the cops. Doesn't he understand that?
Every Wednesday, you're taken from the warmth of your apartment, and you're delivered right back at 00:00 on the dot, every Thursday with barely an inch of life left in your bones. You'd either always come back wet, with semen sliding between your thighs, or with mysterious marks- old and new- crawling underneath your sweater. Whatever mood he was in, he'd always leave you feeling sore.
It should have bothered you.
The thought of seeing this large, domineering shadow-in-a-suit every Wednesday should not overwhelm you with all these feelings of excitement. Instead, you should do like all the mentally ill girls do and just get some fucking help.
But you want him to trust you, for some reason.
Which was utterly ridiculous considering the fact that to him, you were something akin to a porcelain wind up toy for his amusement. You had no business requesting he remove the blindfold aspect but still, you asked anyway. Toy's couldn't be trusted, could they?
"I'd really appreciate it if I didn't have to wear one of these everytime I visit your place." He removes the blindfold, and in a second, your vision is filled with nothing but him. One moment you were in the cozy warmth of your dorm room. Curled up on the couch while your roommate spends her youth effectively- out with boyfriends and friends and everything you didn't have. You answered the front door when you heard his special knock, like you always do. You walked with him to the cab. You let him put on the blindfold. You said 'I'm fine’ when the taxi driver got a little too nosy and you let him lead you away from your boring life.
If only for a few hours.
You'd let him do whatever he wanted for those few hours because such surrender was almost sacred. You forfeited your safety in his hands, to do with it whatever he pleased and in that, you found rest. Whatever happens, happens.
Forget this room- what was essentially his personal dungeon, windowless, red and boasting various torture objects- your eyes are only on him.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't feel the need to kidnap me anymore? We do this every Wednesday," You become more childish around him and he lets you. Like you forgot you are a fully autonomous university student. There was power in that too. "Surely we've established some sort of trust?” He doesn't respond to you immediately. You crane your head up at him, hungry to lock eyes with his cold, empty slits that enchanted you body and soul.
You are in love with him, perhaps.
That's a logical response isn't it?
You laugh almost.
Listening to yourself try to rationalize your fondness for such a horrible man.
Said horrible man is silent. All you hear is the clicking of his dress shoes as he moves to the leather seat directly across from yours. Your eyes scan over all his movements.
The right corner of his lip quirks up. A small coffee table creates the only distance between you and he bends over to pour you both a generous glass of Brandy on the rocks. You don't drink it. Ever since he's been bringing you here, you never do. He knows this, yet still he pours.
"This relationship isn't about trust." He says finally. Something inside you, that is perhaps a little broken, actually purrs at the sound of his voice. You're hyperaware of your thighs squeezing together on the leather seat. They're spilling out of the sundress you purposely wore today.
Lots of your clothes were for the function of comfort. Your body was full and curvy and not always something to be advertised, unless you wished it to. Tonight, you wanted to show off as much as possible.
A thick leather band is keeping both your wrists locked to the armrests, while he sits back, free and so irrevocably in charge it should scare you. It should. But the sick and incredibly deranged thing is that it doesn't.
Outside, the rain is beating down on whatever building you're in, casting a thick veneer of grey all across the city.
But inside this velvet room... your heart is hammering inside its cage as you watch him undo the buttons of his crisp suit. A black one today. Jet black like his hair.
Although-
"You've got more grey in your hair than last week." You can't help but say.
He tilts his head in inquisition. "Are you insulting me or complimenting me?"
"I'll leave that up to you to decide," you shrug your shoulders as much as you can under these limited restraints. At least he hasn't restrained your ankles this time. Progress. "In here, you're the boss. Right?"
He takes a sip of his drink until finally, you've finally locked eyes. Your bare toes curl and your back arches slightly as you sit a bit straighter in your seat. Like you're in a lecture hall, although he is far more interesting than any of your professors.
"I'm not as young as I used to be," he finally says as he takes one more sip of his drink before bringing his briefcase onto the coffee table. Its presence is ominous and so horribly loud for an inanimate object. It kickstarts all your dormant nerves, revving up all the rest of your senses that have yet to catch up to the fact that you were facing the man of both your desires and nightmares once again.
"Who have you told about our arrangement?" The question causes you to roll your eyes. He watches the petulant movement with that same, silent smile and blank eyes. He unclicks the briefcase. Your stomach lurches and your thighs squeeze together. Pavlov's dog.
"Every time you ask me-" an object clinks onto the table. A butcher knife.
You try to pull your eyes away from the objects he's placing on the table, one by one. "Everytime you ask me if I've told anyone about our arrangement-" another object. A wooden spoon beside the knife. "Everytime I tell you the same thing."
Your throat closes when he uncovers a dildo. Bright pink and fucking menacing. "Carry on talking." He says, snapping your gaze away from the objects lining the table.
"I don't have any friends." Your voice is wobblier. You try to deny the sight of the rabbit vibrator, "It's the reason you picked me." You clear your throat as you hoped to clear all the nerves beginning to fog your mind. "Someone could've followed me here. B-But I don't really know anyone enough to care." The final object that clunks onto the glass coffee table and this time, you're unable to look away.
"Are we ready to begin?"
The metal revolver laying quiet and undisturbed beside the rabbit vibrator makes everything else on the table look like children's toys. Even the butcher knife.
You pull at the restraints, your legs quivering slightly as you shift and writhe in the seat. He studies you as closely as you were once studying him. You can see the excitement begin to flood his eyes at the physical manifestation of your discomfort.
"Now you're getting it." He nods sardonically, taking another sip from his glass before placing the briefcase on the floor beside him. "You were a little too happy to see me," he joked, letting out an airy exhale of laughter.
"You wanna hazard a guess as to what we'll be playing today?" He's smiling, genuinely. With that look in his eyes you can tell he's hovering in the clouds. Meanwhile you've begun to feel real fear. No matter how regular these visits might become you'd never get used to him. It's impossible. Not when he found new and daring ways to torture and pleasure you every single week. You couldn't get used to something as brash and unconventional as him. Like the conditions of a child in a broken home, he kept his tactics inconsistent so that every week is a new hell or perhaps- depending on his mood- heaven.
"If I guess wrong?" You swallow thickly and something dark in him settles. He spreads his legs more, there's a twitch inside his lips before he smiles again.
"Well, guessing isn't the game, so you'll be fine."
You nod your head... assessing the objects. There's menacing objects and household objects. Even just looking at them you can tell what they all have in common.
"Am I going to have to insert-"
"You're not guessing." His voice booms. He rests his elbow on the armrests, his hands corded with veins seem itching to do something, you're not sure what. "I said guess." He commands.
"Hide and seek?"
He snickers, "A favourite-"
"More like your favourite." You snip back, "I couldn't sit down the whole week." You frown at the memory. That week he'd brought you to an abandoned warehouse, letting you run the entire perimeter full.
"It's in your best interest to keep coming to our sessions-" he reminds you, snapping you back into the present.
"You're paying my university fees, I'm not complaining." You nod, before plastering a thin smile on your face, "All I have to do every week is prostitute myself to a literal sadist-"
"Have you given up on guessing today's game?" He didn't like you making him hyper aware of the fact that this dynamic, whatever it is, is considered objectively bad. And so you're not surprised when he swiftly moves past the topic.
He leans forward. His large hand disappears under his chair before uncovering a small whiteboard. Four lines- 2 horizontals are running across 2 verticals, creating 9 blocks. He stands up, while your eye is still focusing on the board. From your point of view it sits underneath the row of objects on the table. You don't even realize your right wrist strap is being untied.
"Colour?" He asks, pushing a crate of whiteboard markers towards you. With your now free hand you pick the pink one.
He snickers. "Predictable." He whispers before placing a large, domineering hand on your head. He presses down your braids, patting you like a stray he's rescued from the cold. You stare aimlessly ahead, fearing you won't be able to contain everything you've begun to feel for him if you lock eyes now.
"We're playing tic-tac-toe," he relents. His hand lingers on your head a bit longer before he's stepping away.
"With a twist, I presume?"
"Clever girl," he nods, walking back to his seat. "So you're aware of the objects."
"Place a gun in front of a girl and she's going to notice."
"Paranoid girl." He tsks before leaning forward.
"You want to start or should I?"
"Wait-" you swallow, "What happens if I win?"
He smiles that dazzling, debonair smile.
"You pick which one goes inside you."
Lightning cracks across the sky. A chorus of thunder roars all at once like some kind of phenomenon and your lips stutter open.
"Th-That's insane I-"
"I shouldn't have to remind you that you came here out of your own volition. "
"What happens if you win?"
"Then I choose." He says.
Your eyes skate over the object. It doesn't take an ivy league graduate to hazard a guess as to which of the objects he's itching to stick inside you.
"There's a fucking knife here-" You're trembling. Tears are pooling in your eyes. It doesn't even matter that you're a somewhat decent tic tac toe player. It doesn't matter that you're confident in this game. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.
"And there's also a spoon," he nods, neutrally, "And a vibrator, and a dildo. Etcetera. Etcetera." He leans forward, unclicking his whiteboard pen, "your words are just words, Darling. You're just listing things. Start," he says, with a deadly lilt in his voice. "Or I will."
You scramble to uncap your marker with one hand, all while he watches with dead and black eyes. You knew that whoever starts the game was placed at a big advantage and so you're nearly scrambling to place that dignified X in the center block.
"Clever girl." He says once again, drawing his blue 'O' directly beside your pink 'X'. You aim for the block above him. He blocks it. You aim for the block beside the center. He blocks that too.
Your victory comes too quickly. You barely feel it as you strike a line vertically through the blocks. 3 X's.
Relief washes over you but it's overcast with doubt. Like you're celebrating in trepidation as you watch him stand up.
"Congratulations! Which do you choose?"
"I can pick anything?" You ask, staring up at him, bright eyes wild with the adrenaline that comes with wanting to preserve your organs.
"Anything you want, my little winner."
You begin to lean over. His eyebrows quirk up when you wrap a small hand around his wrist.
"I pick that." You say breathlessly. Your eyes zeroed in on his hands at his side. And you watch as he walks towards you, as if compelled by an unforeseen force. His palms are calloused underneath yours and you blow out several unstable breaths as he stands above you. So imposing it's breathtaking.
"You sure?" It's the way he asks it that has you second guessing. And perhaps he sees the caution seeping into your eyes because there's excitement lurking in his. Before you're even able to formulate a response, his hand is locked tightly around your esophagus, vacuuming all pathways shut until you're writhing for air.
"A fine, fine choice," He's becoming more and more riled up the more you writhe in your seat, trying to scrounge for a single breath of air. He doesn't let you. Instead he moves behind you, before leaning down.
If you could breathe, you would shiver at the feeling of his lips behind your ear. "Here we go-" he whispers, before reaching around your torso with his free hand before forcing your legs open. The second he lets his three digits stab into your cunt, he uncurls the grip on your throat as you make a horrid sound somewhere between a moan, a scream, and a haggard gasp. "FUCK- Sl-Slowdown-" you knew better than to request something like that. All you hear is a snicker from behind you as pain blossoms all across your nether regions. He's not gentle. He's not kind. He doesn't allow you to adjust to his fingers before he's scissoring them inside you, causing a blood-curdling scream to rip itself out of your throat. Your back is arched and you're trying to get away from him but the fucking persists.
"You've been wet like this for me the entire time?" He sounds absolutely demented, behind you, "You wanted this didn't you?" He bites at your ear as the first tears begin to pool at your eyes, "My little winner."
"P-Please stop-" His fingers are restless inside you. Curling and uncurling. Scissoring and stabbing as if wanting to open you up and split you all the way in half.
"What a pretty little pussy, huh? Look at what a mess you're making."
"When-" you can't form words. "When- Stop?" It's all you're able to say as your nails dig into the material of his suit.
"The sooner you cum the sooner it stops."
You doubted your ability to cum under these circumstances. He's setting an ungodly pace and it's all so hurried and in a frenzy, it's like your brain does not have time to understand if you even like what's currently being done to you.
"What- Do you want you want my help?" you begin to shake your head. "I'll help you, baby-"
His other hand reaches over and pinches your clit.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm is quite literally forced out of you. Your hips writhe and your ass tries to leave the seat as the first feelings of pleasure rip through you by force. "That's it, Clever girl," he coos, still curling his fingers inside you, "That's my Clever girl." He says once more before stilling his movements. For a second you just sit there, trying to collect your breath while he's still inside you. All at once, his hands are removed from your body.
He grabs a handkerchief from his breast pocket and you watch him clinically wipe his hands before erasing the marks on the board with the same cloth. A very clear boner pushes against his black slacks yet still his face is calm.
"Alright, My turn to start-"
"WHAT!? B-But I won." You scream, absolutely seething with desperation.
"You know everyone who plays 'X' has a significantly higher chance at winning-" You say with your eyes narrowed. He nods.
"And you know that too, which means we each should be granted alternating times to play ‘X’. Regardless if you won or not." You slump in your seat, suddenly far too aware that your bare cunt is exposed.
"Don't mope." He says, "It's not cute." Before drawing his 'X' in the center.
You close your legs, sitting upright with a new zeal of self preservation as you grab ahold of your marker.
You draw your pink 'O' underneath his.
You both play many more rounds. All ending in ties. This is how you play- with a frazzled grip and closed legs. A shiver every now and then overcomes you with the gravity of your aftershocks. His snickers bring your eyes up to his. He speaks as he makes his move.
"You're so focused on blocking," he sighs, "You're not even trying to win anymore-"
"I'm not letting you stick a knife in my cunt." You nod in finality before blocking another move.
"Not even if I say please?" He asks, making a faux pout.
"Fuck off."
"In that case, I have to win."
Your heart kickstarts as he pushes his pen to the board. Images flash across your mind. Blood splattered across his gorgeous face. Your blood as he fucks the sharp end of a knife inside you. You nearly vomit while he speaks. “Easy as-" you block him.
"Tic-" you block him again.
"Tac-" you block him some more
"Toe- I Win."
A victory that somehow escaped your vision. He strikes a line diagonally through the squares and your stomach sinks. He stares at you from across the room. His eyes so deeply satisfied you can feel it radiating off of him in waves.
You lower your teeth to the other restraint, violently trying to free your left wrist from its oppressive hold. And you watch as the devil slowly rises.
Your heart aches. Your brain is sent into complete alarm as your flight or fight kicks in and your sympathetic nervous system fires.
"Now, which one would look pretty inside you?" He drags his fingers along the objects, undoubtedly an act of taunting. You stomp your feet on the ground. You try to push the chair underneath you but it's plastered to the floor.
"Please!" Tears are running thickly. They cloud your vision. You don't even see the way his smile falls enough for him to rub over the bulge in his slacks.
"Fuck," he says gravelly as he relents and picks up the gun. "You're so fucking pretty when you're scared out of your fucking mind. You know that?"
You shake your head as he nears, wondering if this might really be the end. Has your body become too worn out by his games? Has the time for him to discard his toy finally dawned on you both? Is he all grown up with no need for such things as toys?
"PLEASE-NO-"
"Open your mouth." He's standing in front of you, your head directly in front of his raging bulge.
You shake your head, trying to move away but he rips your face towards him. "Listening to me is the only choice you have to make it out alive, Baby. You wanna live, don't you?" He's nothing but a tall figure, with the overhead lights shining around his head like a halo. Your face right by his bulge.
"Little girl needs to go to school." He nods, eyes fluttering shut, "She needs to complete her studies and get a good job so she wouldn't have to meet with scary men like me- Fuck-" it riled him up to no end to have you scared of him. You suppose it triggered a part of him that craved attention. He needed to feel like he existed and if that was reeped from fear then so be it.
"Stick the barrel in your mouth," the bottom of his hand coaxed open your jaw, and, as if on autopilot, you listen. Perhaps there is a way out of this. Perhaps you should just listen.
"That's it... Fuck," he brings your free hand up to rub his erection "That's it, Baby, stick it inside your mouth." Cold metal hits your lower teeth, "Stick it in like you would a cock." He says, looking down at you intently as your tongue unfurls and you suck the barrel in. "Shit-" he places his other hand on the back of your head before forcing you to take the gun deeper down your throat. He's trembling. Far too badly. And so is his finger on the trigger.
"Fuck, you're such a fucking whore, you know that?"
You're gagging and flailing around the barrel, saliva slides down.
So desperate to please him.
In your hast you don't even realize your left hand that had been restrained is now free. Your eyes are closed.
Please him.
Just please him and you'll live.
"That's my brainless girl..." he praises and that rouses something in you. It has your hips bucking against nothing.
"Such a stupid girl..." he continues, "You're gonna ride me, aren't you? You're gonna fuck me so good-" You're not about to tell him that sex wasn't supposed to be apart of this game. You're not stupid.
You faintly hear the sound of a belt unlooping. A zipper siding down. "You're making me so happy, baby." He admits before effortlessly lifting you from the chair until you're straddling him.
You're free.
When did that happen?
"F-Fuck, I need you to ride me." His head is leaning back against the chair. His tie hangs messily from his shirt that has two buttons undone.
You're free.
"Don't try anything," he warns, as he lifts you enough to pull his cock out of his pants. "Matter of fact. Keep it in your mouth while you ride me-" He slams you down onto his cock the very second those words leave his mouth. He's fucking into you with recklessness and fury and violence. His hair falls in his face but the gun is too heavy, without a hand there, it nearly slips from your mouth.
He's careful to catch it, forcing the barrel back in your mouth as he places a hand on your ass, controlling how your ass bounces on his lap. The gun offers motivation like no other. It has you arching your back and swirling your hips as you tighten your cunt around him.
He sticks the gun down too far and you gag. "You trying to get me to cum, huh? You little slut-" you nod, the tears still spilling as pleasure begins to stream through your brain. It has you excited by the prospect of being held at gunpoint. You realize with grave certainty that you've arrived at the point of no return.
"What a good girl- fuck-" he's ramming up into you, his hand on the gun twitching like his cock does. "I'm gonna fucking cum- FUCK-" he does and your orgasm immediately barrels into you at the exact same time. You try to ride him, to milk it as much as you can, to continue to make him happy.
"Such a stupid fucking slut-" he whispers, eyes hooded as his hips still spurt cum into you.
Your ears perk. You see his finger on the trigger move. You squeeze your eyes shut as you hear a click.
"Such a silly girl." You hear him say. "Don't worry, Baby, it isn't loaded." You're still in your body. You're still alive, on his lap, your sundress unfurling around you both.
