Untitled

you shake your head with a smile as you approach the living room again, carefully placing the drinks atop the coffee table. they were always teasing each other, and it made your heart swell with warmth knowing that your two favourite people were getting along well. 

rin’s a little tipsy by now, taking a sip of his rum and coke before suggesting, “why don’t we play truth or dare?”

“are we fucking five?” nagi looks at him like he’s ridiculous for even recommending such a thing.

“what?” rin is smug as he leans forward onto his knees, teasing, “you scared?”

“fuck, no,” he scoffs, “it’s just stupid.”

rin is severely unconvinced. “hm. right.”

the alcohol courses through your veins enough that you’re in agreement with rin. “i think it’d be kinda fun,” you shrug, “i mean, i’m sure we’ve all got juicy secrets yet to be shared,” you rub your hands together cunningly. 

nagi lifts his brow at you with his arms crossed. “you’re serious?”

“yes,” you answer simply, “now stop being a grump and play.”

he rolls his eyes. “fine.”

things are seemingly light until your spin lands on nagi. he picks truth, which he soon learns is a mistake. the liquor in your bloodstream mixes with long-term curiosity and you ask him the burning question, “ever fucked anyone?”

rin freezes beside you, surprised you asked him that when you’re dating, let alone sitting right next to him. but, nonetheless, he’s invested and wants to know, too, the nosy bastard. he huffs out a small laugh, watching nagi intently as he finishes the last sip of his drink. “brutal,” he teases.

nagi’s lips part, debating whether he should answer or not. yeah, he and you were best friends, but you didn’t discuss sex much– it just never seemed to come up in conversation.

“uh,” he scratches the back of his head, “yeah, i have.”

you gasp. “you're lying. there’s no way seishiro nagi has fucked someone before.”

“and why not?” he challenges. “what’s got you so convinced i couldn’t bag someone?”

“it’s not that,” you laugh, “i just have a hard time believing you’d be any good at it.”

“hey,” rin nudges you with a light chuckle, “leave the poor guy alone.”

you throw your hands up in protest. “he’s just too laid-back!”

nagi tsks. “you know i’m right here and can hear you, right?”

“sorry, sei,” you sigh, “i’m sure you’re a great lover–”

“thank you,” he hisses sarcastically.

“–but, like, did she come?”

the whole room goes quiet. rin’s trying to stifle his laughter, and you’re clearly trying to get under nagi’s skin, the alcohol refusing to let up. 

“dude,” nagi’s eyes widen at you, “just quit while you’re ahead.”

you’re laughing uncontrollably now, “oh, c’mon, sei! do you even know where the clit is?”

“y/n,” he warns.

“babe,” rin giggles, “i think you’re pushing it too far.”

“but i need to know!”

“do you?” nagi cuts in. 

you cross your arms with stubborn hmph. “yes.”

nagi’s already mad that you keep teasing him. and he’s pissed you’re assuming he doesn’t know how to pleasure a woman. his ego is bruised and he doesn’t give a fuck that your boyfriend is in the same room anymore. 

“fine, then,” he says curtly, standing up from the couch. you just watch as his body rises, lips resting on the rim of your solo cup, “if you wanna know so bad, then let me fuck you right now to prove it.”

rin stops laughing and you nearly drop your cup into your lap.

“w–what?” you stutter, cheeks turning hot and stomach flipping. you place your drink down slowly on the coffee table.

“you fucking heard me.” nagi’s voice is so demanding and it’s making your thighs clench. “let. me. fuck. you.”

rin’s lips slowly turn upwards into a cocky smile as his eyes shift from nagi to you. he notices the way you’re shaking, the way you’re actually excited and wanting what nagi’s suggesting.

“i–i–,”

nagi chuckles darkly. “lost for words now? you afraid to find out you’re wrong?” he stops in front of you still seated on the couch and leans over, placing his hands on the cushions behind your head as his lips fall beside your ear. “afraid that i’ll ruin you?”

rin’s overheating, buzzing with energy. “fuck,” he huffs, “that’d be so hot to watch.”

your eyes flicker to him for a moment. “you’re… okay with this?”

he nods, leaning back onto his palms. “don’t refuse on my account,” he licks his lips. your gaze drops to his lap for a moment and you immediately notice the bulge. “i can take care of myself.” 

your breaths are quiet, but the way your chest heaves makes your feelings clear to the both of them. nagi’s still standing in front of you waiting for an answer. when you finally make eye contact, you immediately fumble. he chuckles, a knowing smirk plastered on his face.

“so, what’s it gonna be?” he hums.

you want to look away, but you can’t. he’s got you utterly hypnotized. “o–okay,” you say, voice barely above the whisper.

“what was that?” he thrums. “speak up.”

“yes,” you swallow, answering him louder and with more confidence. “fuck me, sei.”

rin hums in amusement beside the two of you, leaning back against the couch. “put on a good show for me.” he adds slyly. 

nagi has an expression you’ve never seen before, one that’s wicked and intentional, like you just gave him a pass to fuck up your entire life. he reaches down to grab your waist, lifting you up to reposition your body, spine on the seat of the couch, so he’s now hovering over you. you can hear your heart thumping wildly through the silence. nagi pokes his tongue with his cheek, then leans down to kiss you. he’s soft at first, the pink muscle steadily rolling into your mouth, but it doesn’t last for long. he’s gripping at your sides, slipping his hands underneath the hem of your shirt and playing with your tits as he kisses you sloppily.

“no bra?” he chuckles against your mouth, “what a needy bitch.”

you gasp as he pinches your nipples, head pushing further into the cushions. rin inhales sharply a few feet away, and you hear the clang of him unbuckling his belt.

“shit,” he huffs, watching the way you squirm from nagi’s touch, the way your tongues collide with passion. his hand sneaks beneath the waistband of his boxers and he begins to palm himself. “fuck her real good for me, sei.”

nagi’s not listening to a word he says. he’s way too focused on the way your cunt is soaking through your panties and pressing against his leg. you’re dripping so much that he can feel it through the fabric of his jeans.

“mmm, baby,” he hums, breaking the kiss with a bite to your bottom lip. your soft whines make his dick twitch. “gonna eat you out now, okay?” his head dips lower and you’re already grabbing his hair. he chuckles, snaking his fingers up your thighs to curl around the straps of your underwear. “bet you wore a skirt tonight hoping to be ruined, hm?” he taunts, groaning as he tosses your soaked lace aside and sees your pretty little cunt in all her glory. “fuck,” he exhales, “you’re soaking the damn couch.” he shifts his body to the side enough so rin can have a look. “you see this?” he sounds shocked, “fuck, your girl is a freak. getting wet over fucking another man.”

rin frees himself completely, fist slowly stroking his length as he just stares– stares at the way your pussy throbs, at the way your lips part, at the way your chest lifts and falls with lust. “filthy,” he breathes, moving just a bit faster, “she’s fucking filthy.”

you want to say something, but your attempt is cut off by nagi’s tongue hotly pressing against your clit. you jolt and close around his head, shoving him harder into your cunt by the hold you still have on his hair. “fuck!” you cry.

he pries your thighs apart aggressively, then slaps your pussy threateningly. you yelp. “stay the fuck open,” he hisses, “i need to feel every inch of this sweet cunt.” he utilizes his shoulders the best he can to keep you wide and obedient as he reaches deep inside of you with his fingers and tongue licking fervently at your clit. “best fucking pussy,” he hums into your folds, “never tasted anyone like you.”

“make her squirt f’me,” rin moans, thumb sliding over his white beaded tip, eyes hooded with pure desire of watching his girlfriend get wrecked by her best friend. 

nagi pauses for a minute to turn his head as he glares at rin. “don’t tell me what to fucking do.” somehow, rin trying to guide him pisses him off enough that he returns to your cunt with a merciless pace, pointer and middle from both of his hands scissoring into your dripping hole as he laps and slurps at your bundle of nerves all a mess, your arousal and juices practically coating his entire face and hands. you moan loudly every time you catch the sight of his glistening lips lift from your sex to breathe,

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cry, thrusting your hips violently against his face, “s–shit, sei,” you choke, back arching as his fingers curl just right, “gonna c-come–”

“huh, that’s funny,” he smirks, pulling away from you abruptly. your near orgasm leaves you immediately and you glare at him, “thought you said i didn’t know how to make a girl do that?”

“y–you–,” he looks so smug that you want to slap him, “fuck you.”

“oh, you will,” his eyes are dark, enticing– he isn’t even fucking close to being finished with you yet. he unbuttons his pants and tosses them onto the floor before picking you up by your hips and placing you forcefully atop his thighs. you whimper as his shaft brushes against your puffy clit. “‘m gonna slide this slutty pussy on my fucking cock until i decide we’re finished, you got that?” the way he’s speaking to you, so mean and demanding, already has you weak in the knees. he licks his teeth, then glances over at rin. “get over here,” he says to him, “she’s gonna be a good girl and suck your cock while i make a fucking mess on her.”

rin’s by your side in a heartbeat, sweaty hands combing through your hair as he slaps his wet, sticky tip against your already parted lips. he looks at you hungrily, gripping at your strands. “gonna let me ruin your mouth while he destroys your pretty cunt, hm?”

“y–yes,” you whimper, eyes so glossy and fucked-out as you look up at him that he’s already shoving his cock down your throat. you choke, eyes rolling as you slurp his thick, veiny length, swallowing the salty precum.

nagi growls as he watches you take all of him, the sounds so sinful that he’s already sliding his shaft fervently against your pussy lips. “fuck, yeah,” he huffs, “taking him like a bitch. you’re so good, baby, so proud of you.” he matches his pace with rin’s brutal thrusts into your mouth, twitching against your clit with each filthy, pornographic choke that slips out of your stuffed face. “god, look at you,” his pants are heavy and ragged, nails digging into your hips as he slides desperately between your slick folds, “can feel you pulsing against my cock, sweetheart.” he releases a raspy groan as his thighs shake, hot spurts of cum landing all over your skirt he never removed. “fuck, fuck,” he hisses, eyes dazed from decorating your pretty clothing, “look what you made me do, baby.”

rin’s completely lost in you sucking him off, nearing the edge with each graze of your teeth against his sensitive vein. “yeah, baby,” he moans, “i’m so close– fuck– keep taking me just like that.” nagi slides himself inside of your needy hole, bottoming you out immediately from how fucking soaked you are. your muffled groans send shock waves through rin’s entire body and he comes, filling your mouth to the brim with his hot seed. “fuuuuuck,” he gasps, riding out his high with short, hard thrusts, “milk me baby, shit!”

as soon as he pulls out of your mouth, you’re a loud sobbing mess because nagi is brutally pistoning into you, unforgiving and trying to make a point. he leans forward to wrap his arms around your body, using his intense grip on the nape of your neck to guide you relentlessly up and down his cock.

“s–sei!” you scream, an arm reaching out to the side to grab rin for leverage. he grabs your wrist and shoves your fingers into his mouth, circling his tongue and moaning pathetically over your digits. it overwhelms your senses, and your eyes start to water. “f–fuck, i’m so sensitive– i–”

“you can take it, sweetheart,” nagi grits his teeth, snaking a few fingers into your hair to tug and you whimper. “i know you can.”

“i–,” you choke on your words, eyes rolling violently as you feel a hand press against your clit. rin’s toying with you now, but not for long. 

nagi tsks, slapping his hand away. “don’t fucking touch her, not unless i say so. this is my time to ruin her.”

rin quite literally cowers away in the moment. he was more submissive than he thought.

you’re so fucked-out that you can barely breathe, cunt clenching around nagi’s cock desperately, burying every fucking inch of his length inside of you. “‘mmmm’gonna come–” you slur, gasping for air, as your head falls limp, “i–i can feel– fuck,” your mouth falls wide open as you let out an ungodly moan, body begining to shake violently against his thighs, “oh, fuck!”

“now,” nagi hisses at rin, “touch her greedy little cunt and make her squirt all over me.”

rin obliges, eyes razor-focused on every little expression your face makes as you teeter the edge, the tension in your stomach ready to snap at any moment. your palms bear down firmly against nagi’s chest, uncontrollable pants and whimpers oozing out of you whilst you slide your cunt along his leaky, thick cock. 

“fuck, you’re so depserate,” nagi thrums, “fucking riding me like a slut, you need to come that bad, baby?”

“i need it!” you scream, throat cracking, “i f–fucking need it,” rin’s fingers are working fervently on your bundle of nerves as his lips meet your throat, your body seizing up from the intense sensations from all angles. “fuck– oh my god, fuck!” you cry, hot cum pouring out of your pulsing hole all over nagi’s thighs. 

he growls loudly, speeding up his pace as he watches his cock move in and out of you, splashing your sweet nectar all over your leftover clothing. “jesus christ,” he hisses, “you’re so fucking sexy, y/n– god– fuck, i don’t want to stop fucking you.” he gasps loudly as he releases his load a second time, relentless bucking of his hips stuffing his cum back up into your walls. “you feel so fucking perfect around me.”

rin’s drooling at the sight of you and nagi so fucking wrecked from each other, watching as you collapse forward onto nagi’s chest once you two finally start to come down. rin drops himself beside you too, exhaling blissfully.

“holy fuck,” he exclaims, “that was hot.”

“yeah,” nagi agrees, “shit.” he runs his fingers through your sweaty strands for a few moments before gently propping your chin up enough to look you in the face. “so?” his lips curve into a lazy, exhausted smirk, “still think i can’t make a girl come?”

you want to say no, but you’re still feeling too strong of a desire to tease him further. you bite your lip with a smile, making it seem like you’re about to complement him. “well, you had rin’s help, didn’t you?”

rin bursts out laughing. nagi’s smile instantly fades and he groans, throwing his head back and cupping his face with his hands. “fuck off,” he sighs, “you’re actually insufferable.”

you giggle, leaning forward and pressing your glistening, red lips just below his ear. he sighs, melting into your touch immediately. “well, it just means you have to try again,” you purr. you feel nagi twitch below you. “you know, without rinny here.”

rin should be mad about the suggestion. but he’s not, because if this situation has taught him anything, it's that he is a fucking cuck. you meet his eyes and he smiles, lifting himself from the couch. you watch as he approaches the front door, slides on his sneakers, then grabs his keys to go home. nagi looks dumbfounded. you’re surprised yourself, but no one is complaining. he just looks back at you two, offering a salute. “have fun,” he coos, “text me tomorrow.”

slowly, you and nagi meet each other’s eyes again, confused and, well, still horny as fuck.

this time, nagi has you pinned to your bed, legs thrown over his shoulders as he wrecks your cunt for a good three hours more that night.

ryusei shidou

he texts you from the pitch. while the game is still going. second half, 73rd minute, one goal up, and your phone buzzes with a message that just reads told u with three of those stupid cat-face emojis.

by the time the final whistle blows he's already abandoned his teammates mid-celebration to find you.

you're barely through the tunnel before his hand wraps around your wrist, that sneaky grin stretched across his face, slitted pink eyes lit up like something feral got fed. he smells like sweat and grass and he doesn't care even a little bit. neither do you, though you'd die before admitting it.

"locker room." not a suggestion.

"ryusei, the others are still—"

"don't care." he's already pulling you. "made a deal."

the locker room is half-empty, a few guys filtering out, and he walks you past all of them like they're furniture, like there's only one thing in his field of vision right now and it has your face. someone wolf-whistles. he flips them off without turning around.

he pushes you into the back corner, tiles cold against your front, and his body against your back is the opposite. hot. solid. built like he was designed to be difficult to escape from, which, honestly.

"scored twice, by the way," he murmurs into your ear, breath warm, voice dropped to something rougher than his usual sharp-edged energy. "so technically i get it twice."

"that's not how the deal—"

"shhh." his hands find your hips, grip them, fingers pressing in hard enough that you'll feel it tomorrow. "made the deal. scored the goals. now be good and let me collect."

he gets your pants down quick and efficient like he's done this a thousand times in his head already, which, he has (but thats not the point). he doesn't tease. teasing requires patience and patience is somewhere else's problem. he just lines himself up, kicks your feet a little wider apart, and pushes in.

"hah—" the sound comes out of you before you can swallow it, fingers scrambling against the tile. he's thick and he doesn't ease into it, just fills you in one slow drag that makes your legs want to buckle and then he laughs, quiet and delighted, at the sound you made.

"there it is." he presses his mouth to the back of your neck. "that's what i wanted."

he fucks you like he plays. instinctive, aggressive, no wasted movement. each thrust snaps your hips forward against the wall, the tile cold on your palms, his hands keeping you exactly where he wants you, one gripping your hip and the other sliding around your front to press flat against your stomach, keeping you pinned against him on the pull-back.

"feels good, yeah?" he's grinning, you can hear it. "say it feels good."

"you're so annoy— fuck—"

"that's not what i asked." he angles up, hits something that makes your knees genuinely try to give out, and catches you. holds you up. like he's done this before, like he knew exactly what was going to happen when he pushed there. "try again."

"it feels— god, it feels—"

"say my name," he murmurs against the back of your neck, grinding in deep, grinding the words into you. "ryusei. when i'm inside you."

you say it. you say it twice. his grip tightens like a reward.

he comes with his face pressed into your shoulder and both hands locked around your hips so hard the bruises will last a week, jerking into you through it, making this low rough sound that you'll be thinking about at the most inconvenient possible times for the foreseeable future. you follow him down not long after, shaking against the tile, completely wrung out.

he stays pressed against your back afterward, breathing hard, and then, very casually, says: "gonna score a hat trick next game."

you laugh despite yourself. he feels it and grins against your skin.

michael kaiser

he doesn't text you. he doesn't need to. you were in the box seats and you watched him score, watched him turn to the camera right after with those light blue eyes and that insufferable golden smirk like the goal was addressed personally to you.

and then he winked.

the man actually winked at a camera in a professional stadium because he knew you were watching.

by the time you reach him in the tunnel he's already separated from the post-match cluster, leaning against the wall with his arms loose at his sides, wet-haired from a quick rinse, rose tattoo dark against his skin. he looks like he was put together specifically to be impossible to look away from. he knows this. intimately.

"i scored," he says, simple, like he's remarking on the weather.

"i saw."

"so." he pushes off the wall, tips your chin up with two fingers. "you know what that means."

he takes you to the car. his car, which is obscene and he drives with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh just above the knee the entire way, not moving it higher, just keeping it there. possessive and patient. the patience is the worst part because his patience has teeth.

the parking garage of his building is quiet. he turns the engine off and doesn't move, and neither do you, and then he says: "climb over."

you know what he means. you move to the back seat, he follows, and the confined space makes everything immediate, makes his height and the breadth of his shoulders suddenly pressing.

he takes your wrists in one hand, pins them behind your back, and uses the other to get you arranged exactly how he wants you. face down, knees on the leather, his chest against your spine.

"i want to hear you say i earned it," he says into your ear, voice smooth as cut glass, quiet in the way that's somehow louder than shouting.

"michael—"

"say it." the correction is patient. territorial.

"you…" you swallow. "you earned it."

"good girl." he rewards that with his hand sliding between your thighs and you stop thinking about much else.

he fingers you open slowly, deliberately, like he has nowhere else to be and nothing to prove, two fingers curled and working until you're trembling and he has extracted several sounds from you that you're choosing not to reflect on. then and only then does he pull his hand back, and you hear him, the breath, the shift of fabric.

when he pushes inside you it's a long, controlled slide that feels intentional in a way that none of your exes could manage. he means every inch of it. means the grip on your wrists and the tilt of his hips and the way he pulls back just far enough before driving back in, making each thrust land with enough force that your breath stutters.

"you feel that?" he asks, not rhetorically. he actually wants an answer.

"yes, god, yes—"

"good." satisfied. almost academic about it. "so do i."

he fucks you with a kind of deliberate precision that should be clinical but isn't, because underneath the control there's something genuinely hungry, something that surfaces in the way his grip tightens every time you make a sound, in the way his composure develops cracks around the edges the longer this goes on.

"mine," he says, near the end. not loud. just factual.

you come with your cheek against cold leather, his name dragged out of you and he follows with his forehead pressed between your shoulder blades, breathing hard for the first time all night, the composure finally, entirely, gone.

he keeps you close after. doesn't say anything. just keeps one hand curled around your hip like he's not ready to let the moment dissolve yet, fingers tracing absently over the jut of bone.

possessive even in the quiet. maybe especially in the quiet.

tabito karasu

karasu, predictably, acts like the deal was already a foregone conclusion.

he'd told you before the game, with the particular flat certainty he uses for things he considers obvious, that the opposing team's left defender had a weak right ankle and would be over-compensating by the 30th minute and that he'd exploit it for an assist by the second half. what he didn't tell you was that he'd also time the actual goal himself, sliding into the box at precisely the moment nobody was watching him.

tactical. infuriating. completely him.

he finds you after, still in his kit, gloves still on, and he has that look on his face that he gets when something goes exactly according to his calculations. not smug, exactly. more like… vindicated.

"i scored," he says.

"you assisted twice and then snuck in a tap-in."

"still counts."

you laugh before you can stop yourself. he watches you do it with something shifting in his expression, something quieter underneath the usual sharpness. you've learned to notice that thing. it doesn't come out often.

"car," he says. then, after a pause: "please." the word sounds like it costs him something. you take it anyway.

his car is less flashy than his personality suggests, which is very him. clean interior, no nonsense. he drives you back to his apartment without discussion, because there was never really any question.

he gets you upstairs, gets the door locked behind you and then doesn't rush. stands in the hallway for a moment just looking at you with those blue eyes doing that thing where they're taking inventory, cataloguing, noticing everything.

"you look pleased with yourself," you say.

"i am." he peels one glove off. then the other. sets them down carefully. "you look flustered."

"i'm not—"

"you are." he steps close, tilts his head slightly. "but i can work with flustered."

he gets you to the bedroom with minimal theatrics, which is also very him. no posturing, no extended performance. he just knows what he wants and moves toward it with the same economy he applies to everything. he turns you around, unhooks, unzips, works through each piece of clothing like a problem being solved. by the time you're face-down on the bed with a pillow pulled under your hips you feel like you've been systematically taken apart and laid out.

"you're going to tell me when it's good," he says and it's not bossiness, exactly. more like he's establishing terms. collecting data. even now.

"tabito—" and something about saying his name like that, easy and familiar, makes something in his jaw shift.

when he enters you it pulls a broken exhale out of both of you, his breath stuttering just once, barely audible, before he steadies. starts to move. his hands are precise and attentive, one on your hip and one flat between your shoulder blades, adjusting the angle by small degrees until you make a specific sound, and then he keeps it exactly there, relentless and measured.

"there," he says, mostly to himself. "that's the one."

he's quiet during, mostly, which makes the sounds he does make matter more. a rough exhale when you clench. a low, involuntary sound he immediately tries to suppress when you reach back and find his hand. he lets you hold it. threads his fingers through yours.

you come first, undone by the precision of him, the way he never stops paying attention, and he follows close behind with his face in your hair and that quiet, controlled exterior finally, briefly, completely unraveled.

afterward he lies beside you and doesn't speak for a long moment. then: "your reaction time for goal number two was better than i expected."

you turn your head to stare at him.

"the pun," he clarifies, and his mouth does that almost-smile thing.

you throw his pillow at his face.

he catches it. still almost-smiling.

bunny inglesias

he doesn't tell you before the game that he's going to score. he just does.

and afterward, in the slow drift of the post-match hour, he finds you in one of the corridor spaces outside the locker room and he's wearing that gentle closed-mouth smile and his cap with the rabbit face, hair loose and a little damp, and he says, very softly:

"i scored."

"i know."

"so." the smile stays exactly where it is. "you said."

"i know what i said."

"okay." he tilts his head. "are you going to make me ask, amor?"

the thing about him is that he's calm in a way that doesn't read as passive. there's something underneath it, something attentive and patient and quietly certain. he's not demanding. he's not performing. he's just… waiting, with the full confidence of someone who already knows the answer and is giving you the courtesy of arriving at it yourself.

you take him back to the apartment. his. it has very little in it, which you've noticed before and never quite asked about. clean lines. practical. like someone who hasn't decided yet whether they're staying.

he takes off his cap, sets it on the table, and looks at you across the small space.

"how do you want me?" he asks.

which is not what you expected. you blink. he laughs, soft and brief, the most unguarded sound he makes.

"i'm asking," he says, stepping closer, "because i want to do it right."

he's gentle in a way that feels considered rather than careful, if that distinction makes sense. like gentleness is something he chooses rather than something that's just the absence of roughness. his hands move over you slowly, unhurried, taking stock, and when you finally get horizontal his body settles over yours like he was measuring the exact weight to apply.

he flips you over, easy and unhurried, your cheek finding the pillow, and he presses a single kiss to the back of your neck before he lines himself up.

when he pushes in he goes slow, slow enough that you feel every increment of the stretch, slow enough to hear his breath change, and you exhale the tension out of your spine all at once.

"okay?" he asks.

"yeah," you breathe. "yeah, it's—"

"good." he starts to move.

he rolls his hips with a rhythm that builds and doesn't rush, deep and patient, and he keeps his weight on one forearm beside your head with his other hand finding yours and pressing your palm to the mattress with his over it. not pinning. just covering. it's unbearably tender for something supposed to be a reward.

his mouth finds the curve of your neck, your shoulder, the soft place behind your ear. he doesn't say much, he rarely does, but once, quiet enough that you almost miss it: "you're so warm."

you don't know what to do with that. you hold it anyway.

he builds you up slowly, methodically, like he's reading something in your breathing and adjusting, and when you finally come it's with his name muffled into the pillow and his hand tightening over yours, lacing your fingers together. he follows with his face pressed to the back of your neck, a long shuddering breath, his whole body going still and then carefully, slowly, soft.

he doesn't move right away. stays draped over you, heavy and warm, and the room is very quiet.

then: "next game i'll score two."

you're so wrecked you barely process it. "bunny…"

"just letting you know," he says, and you can hear the smile in it, small and private and pointed entirely at you, "what you have to look forward to."

Taglist: @inu1gf @143-ilyuu @irethepotato @mikemsmm @bbladie @sky-casino @thetwinkims @elemayooooooo @chefcorvus

Even though you did—and quite diligently, at that—something in him still seemed unsatisfied with your performance. You figured that perhaps there wasn’t enough in your mouth?

Hugo, being many steps ahead of you as he always was, let his thumb produce a different angle within your orifice before he plucked it out past your lips. Then he wiped your own salvia across your bottom lip and tutted.

“You enjoyed that, huh?” An observation wrapped in a question, of which he already knew the answer to. When you nod, his eyes narrow. “Say it then,” his finger moved to your chin to tip your head further up, “Tell me how you liked having my finger in your mouth—how you enjoyed sucking on it simply because I told you to.”

Your lips moved to do exactly that, the words were prepared against your tongue—and yet, he interrupted you ever so rudely.

Hugo possesses a lot of qualities that can’t be described as anything else aside from thick. His fingers are no exception, and you’re made acutely aware of it as his index and pointer shove their way into your mouth before you could properly obey him.

He doesn’t smile, but you can still see how pleased his by seeing you like this. Especially as you begin to hum gibberish around his digits.

Can he understand a word you’re saying? Technically no. Does he try to have a conversation with you anyway since he cares little about the concept of silence around you? Well, yes.

“What was that?” His eyebrows lift ever so slightly and you swear he’s fighting the urge to smile at you, “You said you love having my fingers in your mouth, and that listening to me is your favorite thing to do? Aw.”

Your head shakes, and for a moment you debate on nibbling at his fingers. You don’t though, considering how he watches your mouth move to pout and how your eyes glare at him instead.

Hugo nods his head, “I see, I see. So then,” his eyes leave yours and find your mouth again. His cock twitches once he feels your tongue dancing in between his fingers, followed by a wet suck as he drives them in just a bit deeper. “Did you want my fingers elsewhere? Do you-, hah..” His words escape him once your hand grabs at his wrist and you bob your head back and forth a little.

The way your mouth feels enveloping his two fingers, how your tongue slathers all around them, the mixed sensation of wetness and warmth—all of these factors nearly give him the desire to give you what he knows you want. But more than that, he wants the impossible out of you first. He wants to hear you beg for what you want, and he wants to hear it clearly.

All while his fingers are in your mouth.

“Do you need my fingers elsewhere, perhaps?” His eyes narrow further on you and you push yourself forward just so you can gag on his fingers as if to answer him. That’s when he grins, “You do, don’t you? It’s a shame you can’t seem to beg me for it.”

“Mmmh,” a stubborn array of grumbles fly his way, but instead of making things easier for you, he merely thrusts his fingertips further. “Mmph?” the cadence of that hum is most obviously meant to be a please—he knows how you beg far too well.

Even so, he can’t find himself to care that you’re struggling to do what’s asked of you. You look far too cute like this.

“Fuck, was that your best attempt at begging? Can you really not say it any clearer than that? Poor thing.” He hums, pulling his fingers away from your mouth slowly just to watch the way you almost-drunkenly chase after him.

The moment his digits escape your lips, your hold on his wrist gets a little tighter and you pant, “Please?”

Hugo raises a brow and wipes his fingertips across your bottom lip, “Please, what?”

Your mouth opens and he fights the urge to just laugh at you as he interrupts you again. Your grip on his wrist is lost as he finger-fucks your throat properly this time around—watching the mess he makes of you whilst drool leaks out from the corner of your lips.

Then you make the stupid mistake of trying to pull your head away from him so you can ask for what you want, and he scoffs as if annoyed before using that free hand of his to bring it up to your throat.

“A couple fingers in your mouth makes you do really dumb things, huh. I’ll give you what you want when I feel like it,” Hugo breathes out, cock swelling between his legs, “You understand that much, yes?”

You nod, but words couldn’t describe how much he adored it when you tried to act like a brat with him. He loved putting you in your place more than anything. And that glossy look of need in your eyes… fuck, he had half a mind to quit teasing you and splay you out against the nearest surface available.

“All you have for me is a nod?” Hugo scoffs, “Am I annoying you, chérie?”

You can’t help but whine this time—there was no way of winning him over when he got like this. He’d drag out this teasing until you physically couldn’t take it anymore if you’d let him.

Even so, the whine from you prompts him to look down at the way you’re squeezing your legs together, and he lets out a sigh. One could say he might even feel bad for you considering he knows you’ve likely soaked through your panties by this point.

“Fine, fine,” His fingers leave your mouth but the hand at your throat remains as he gives it a light squeeze. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today. Strip.”

You're not expecting to be drugged by a German Prodigy who had an eye on you for a long time. Mouth gag, laying on your back on the hotel bed, hands and wrists are tied behind your back, legs were forced open. He is watching you with that red robe, hair tied and wearing glasses with a psychology book in his hand, behind him was a stunning view of Germany night city. Your pussy had been stuffed with toys, such as dildos stuffed in your walls as well the vibrator dildo penetrate your wide folds, making a buzzing noises. The bullet vibrators massaging your clit and your nipples taped. Your body is trembling from this intense pleasure. To make worst that he is putting the setting in high.

He is enjoying the view of you trembling in bed, trying to bid the restrains off you. He used his tie as a mouth gag, muffling your mouth, sanking your teeth in the fabric tie, toes clenched and thighs trembling. You want to tap out badly, already overestimated.

"You're enjoying this? Are you?" Kaiser spoke, slowly lifting his blue eyes, foucsing on you. You couldn't respond as the gag is preventing you from answering and screaming. He is trying to poke fun of you. You felt embarrassed that he is watching you being tortured on the hotel bed while he watches.

"Oh, my bad, meine liebe, you can't speak from that gag." He tease with a smirk. He sets his psychology textbook to the side, slowly standing up to approach. Your eyes are already filled with hot tears and dazed from these toys torturing you. "Let me take them off for you." Removing the silky blue tie off your lips. He is met with the sound of the vibrators buzzing and your tremble lips softly moaning.

"G-get this...! A-Ah! O-off -- MmM! Oh- fuck!" Your lips trembles triyng to speak, but the bullet vibrator on top of your clit, buzzes. Your lips are drooling as it seems that you had been biting that tie for a long time when he started to torture you. He smirks further, his hand grabbing the dildo and begins to pump it inside your open glistening walls, making you scream.

"AH! W-what are-?! Oh fuck! AH!" Your body went to a shock as Kaiser pumping the dildo in and out of your pussy, leaving the dildo vibrator still inside your pussy. You tried to scream at him to be gentle or to stop. He will find the way to make your body shudder from this pressure.

"Aww, isn't this cute? Moaning under me with these toys, meine liebe?" He comments, thrusting the dildo deeper into your womb, making your back arches, desperate to break the restrain.

"T-Too much! A-AH! Too much! Too much! Please! Fuck!" You cried, shaking your head, can't closed your legs as his bondge tied on your ankles and legs are unbearable to close.

He chuckles, “this is too much for you, isn’t it? You’re so weak.” He spats. "Let's see if you can last long." both of his hands thrusting the dildo and the vibrator dildo together in a rougher and faster pace. Your head is dizzy and you are screaming loudly.

"AH! Stop! AAH! T-Too much-! AAH-!" Your thighs are trembling, body aching from the tight bondage burning your skin. The sound of the hotel room of your loud moans both pleading him and the smell of asroual in this room. Kaiser can feel his boxer getting tighter that it shows a tent underneath his red bath robe. He is enjoying the view of you, getting fucked by his toys, and watching your fucked face to show him that he is fucking you right. You didn't warn him that you are coming as your body convulsed releasing your orgasm. He watches as you gushes your fluids on the bedsheets and also on his hands. His eyes watches in amazement, as your body still jerking from the intense orgasm and squirting.

"Shit... that's hot." He mutters. He leaves your pussy stuffed in that dildos as he removed the bullets vibrator off your chest and clit. Hearing you panting. He is not letting you rest. No, no, no, he is turned on by yout squirting as his cock is throbbing in excitement. He needs to fuck you now!

“Tired, meine liebe? No no no. You’re not getting out of this until I am satisfied.” He grabs your face, pulling you closer to him. Feeling your body shudder and still throbbing after coming.

“Please, you can do whatever you want to me just please be gentle..” you whimper, scared as he is forcing you to look at him in the eye. He is hungry, he needs to be inside of you right now!

He unties your ankles and legs. Too tired to fight him as you laid there, helplessly, letting Kaiser to get ready to devour his prey. Your knees is pressed on your chest, still laying on your back. “What makes you think you’ve earned my kindness? You’re a living cock sleeve and that’s all you’ll ever be.” He mocks you, refusing to let you go. Your his cock sleeve to be used for pressure and toy to mess around with. Kaiser slowly pulled his boxer down as well his red robe. He noticed you, staring at his chest, with a cocky smirks as he leans in your face, that both the tips of your nose are touching each other. "You're staring, meine liebe." He tease, "It's rude to stare."

"It's rude when you didn't help me, but stare at me being tortured by these toys." You scoffs, glaring at him.

Kaiser smirks wider and eyes narrow. "Watch your words, meine liebe. Perhaps I will change my mind and not let you go. You will moan like a stupid bitch." He slowly pulls away, grabbing the night stand with a bottle of lube and begins to pour the whole cold thick liquid on top of your pussy, makes you shudder and cruel your toes harder.

He laughs when he saw your reaction. "Cute reaction. There's no point of resisting." He shoved the same dildos again back in your asoural. You scream louder, feeling the cold lube deep inside your throbbing walls.

"A-Ah! S-Stop! Oh god!" You scream, drools dripping down your chin, feeling your pussy stuffed. He let out a low whistle, finding your reaction very amusement, and hot as well. Fuck, he can feel his dick throbbing and getting hard.

He stroke his shaft, before slowly insert himself into your walls with the dildos already stuffed your pussy. "M-mmagh...! Fuck, it feels weird...! A-AH! Oh Fuck!" Kaiser let out a low groan escape from his lips, feeling your walls tighten around his cock and the dildos as well.

"Shit... gotten to loosen up, meine liebe." He coos, whispering in your ear, before gently nibbling your ear lobe. He begins to move his hips, slowly, watching your thighs trembles on his shoulders.

"Oh! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Too much! Too much! Stop! Oh my gosh-! A-AH!" Throwing your head back as you could feel the blood running through your head, until he is picking up the pace. Oh god, this feels so weird, but also so good at the same time. Kaiser's hands thrusting the silicone dildo in your pussy to overestimate you. His hips snaps, pressing his hips againist you. "You enjoying this, meine liebe? Moaning under me like a pathetic slut?" He smirks.

You couldn't even answer him as your mind is filled with stars. The sound of the hotel room is filled with your moans drowning with the sound of wet skin slapping. The tip of his cock kept kissing your cervix as well the two dildos. It overwhelming as your body trembles. He refuses to let you orgasm without him. “Oh pretty baby, you can take it a little deeper, don’t close your legs.” He coos, taunting you. He is still holding both of your legs over his shoulder and continue to hammer your walls in a quicker and much rougher pace. “Let me see that pretty crying face, makes me cum every time.”

"A-AH! AH! Oh fuck! T-Too fast-!" You squirm under him, but he held you tighter, preventing you from moving.

"Hah... ha... fuck, I'm gonna cum inside." He huff, still thrusting deeply in your walls, like a wild animal in heat. “Still tight after all I’ve put your hole through, you should be proud of that slutty body of yours.” He mocks with a huff of laughter escape from his lips. He can see your body trembles, desperate to cum again, but he kept denying your orgasm until he came at the same time.

You couldn't hold it as the pressure in your head is building up inside you. "Fuck! Fuck!Fuck! Please let me cum...! pleasepleasepleaseplease-!" you beg.

"Not yet, meine liebe..." He coos as your face is buries in between his neck and shoulder. Trembling from the orgasm. You came without his permission, which makes Kaiser stop thrusting, didn't pull out. You can see his disappointment on his face as he grabs your face to face him. “Look at you, what a fucking mess. I didn’t give you permission to cum but you’re too untrained to control yourself.” He smiles at you in full mockery. He grabs the bullet vibrator, watching your face in horror to go back to that torture again.

“Have you learned your lesson? Or should I crank it higher and leave you alone with your toys for another hour?” He smirks.

"W-wait... I'm sorry... d-don't-" He didn't take your weak apologies. He is gonna watch your body break down again under his control.

"OH! FUCK! FUCKFUCKFUCK! NGH! A-AH!" Your body is being overestimated again. The sound of the bullet vibrator vibing on top of your clit and nipples. Kaiser grabs your hips, slamming himself back into your spread.

"Look at you, crying already?" He coos, mocking you. “Spread yourself open for me, show me what’s mine, and prove you’re going to submit to me. I might just take it easy on you if you do.” He chuckles.

"N-ngh-! Ah! Ah! S-slow down...!" You're too dumb to respond to him as you're being fucked by his dick shoving inside your walls in a rougher pace. He refuses to listen to your complaints. He goes what he pleased.

“That’s it, just a little faster and I’ll cum- You can take it, shh, just keep clenching down on me..” He groans, slowly leaning down on top of your body, your knees is pressing againist your breasts. He groans in your ears, cumming inside your walls. Your eyes rolls back of your skulls, trembling underneath him. Releasing your orgasm twice and even came on his cock.

"Good meine liebe..." He coos, gently kiss on top your forehead. Your body is already overestimated and fucked. You couldn't move your own legs anymore as you laid there on the wrinkled and soaking wet hotel bedsheets. He slowly pulls out, his fingers gently spread out your swollen pussy lips, watching as his own semen dripping down from your hole. He seems proud of his own work. Your eyelids are getting heavy as your wrists and hands are still bond and tied on your back. Your vision are getting dizzy, slowly watching as Kaiser took something out from the fake potted flowers with a device in his hand, pressing end recording. Too tired to react as you fell in your slumper.