#tw disrespecting boundaries | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-californicationist · 6 months

Text

Bone Deep

AO3 Link -- MDNI -- TW: emotional hurt/comfort, make up sex

Your husband, John Price, has fallen into a pattern of behavior that seems to be moving him farther and farther away from you. But, you refuse to play second fiddle for long.

You were drenched. It had been raining in such a way that made you think the Lord had gone back on his promise. Perhaps the rainbow had been painted just to placate you. Perhaps, you thought as you wrung out your hair on the porch, you would be drowned after all.

It sure felt that way. Work had mounted up to the point of a fever-pitch. You had three projects due and one to revise. Not to mention, your husband had been home and yet almost fully invisible.

John Price was back on something like leave, but he was never around. You saw evidence of his presence all over your floor and table and furniture. Socks, dirty plates, dead tablets, scraps of paper with Russian names scribbled on them... He was hunting Makarov in your kitchen and your hallway and your bathroom, and he was leaving that trail of breadcrumbs both literally and figuratively all over your house.

You’d gone to bed alone for two nights in a row, and as you nearly tumbled over a pair of his sneakers in the foyer, caked in wet mud, you decided that it would not be three.

“John?” You called out.

There was no reply, but a pale blue light shone under his office door.

You popped open the latch and saw him hunched over the computer screen.

“John.”

“Hm?” He responded, but he didn’t turn around.

“John!”

“What?” He roared, spinning in his chair and glowering at you, shaming you for interrupting him.

“Okay,” you nodded, resigned.

It would be a cold day in hell before you accepted that tone from anyone. You’d gone in there expecting to have a rational conversation, but your husband had raised his voice to you like you’d been a naughty dog.

And you were absolutely not going to take that sort of treatment.

You made it to your bedroom in a quick three strides, pulling your overnight bag from under the bed. You shot your best friend, Cana, an SOS text. She lived two hours away, but you didn’t mind. You’d drive all night through the rain if it meant getting out of this prison that you used to call a home.

Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but you had boundaries. Clear ones. And he knew he had crossed them. He just didn’t care.

You started to pack as you fumed, tossing in a few days worth of clothes, your toiletry bag, the essentials. Then, the bedroom door clanged open, its handle slamming into the railing on the wall.

“What’s this?” John waved a hand over your bag.

“When I married you, I married a partner, not a ghost. The only reason I know you’re home is because you leave your fucking laundry for me to finish all over my floor. I’m not going to clean up after you like some maid. Then, you raise your tone at me, disrespecting me? No. When you’re ready to be my husband again, you know my number.”

He scoffed,

“All this bloody drama over some dirty socks?”

You stared at him in a way that told him just how serious you were. The silence between you stretched on for eons, expanding in all directions. You smiled,

“You know it’s not the socks.”

The look in his eyes said: yes, I know it’s not the socks. But, his pride wouldn’t let him say the quiet part out loud.

So, you left.

Starting up the car was hard. Backing out of the driveway was harder. But, every mile you drove simply steeled your resolve. You knew his work was important, but you were important, too. You’d always be his wife, but you needed some space.

You texted your boss when you made it to Cana’s house; you were taking a few days off. A night of tears and comforting hugs (and strong margaritas) passed, then a morning. Then, a night… and in the middle of it, you saw your phone light up. Despite the million other notifications you received every day, you knew it was him.

John: hey

You: hey

John: can i call

You: one sec

You sneaked out of bed, untangling yourself from Cana’s lanky arms, and lugged your phone out to the front porch. You were about to curl up on her big patio chair when you were stopped in your tracks at the sight of a big black truck idling in the driveway.

You sighed, standing there staring at your husband. He killed the engine and stepped down from the cab. As he approached you, looking up at you from the bottom of the stairs like a wide-eyed disciple, you noticed that his blue irises were ringed in pink, bloodshot and puffy. He hadn’t shaven, and he looked pale.

But, even though you were still hurt, and even though he looked a little worse for wear, it was hard to ignore the carnal ache in your belly when you watched the muscles bulge and flex in his immense forearms as he crossed his arms in front of himself. The way his chest stretched out his black tee shirt, a tuft of fur peeking out of the crew neckline, the sleeves struggling to contain his round biceps. The way he chewed his full bottom lip when he had something important to say. It was enough to test your resolve.

“Hey,” you said in a small voice, holding your arms around your body for comfort.

Suddenly, those sharp eyes focused on you with rapt attention, and he stared right at you, speaking in a low, gravelly purr, trying to keep his voice down,

“I’ve been a proper arse.”

You tried to hold back a smirk. He continued,

“I took advantage of you. I’ve been hunting this fuckin’ bastard for so many years, and I’ve got him cornered. It’s all I can think about. Every night I think if only I was a little quicker, or maybe just bloody braver, I could stop him from killing more innocent people. I let him into our house. Into your life. And I shouldn’t have let my work come between us,” John’s expression softened, and he uncrossed his arms, hooking his thumb into his jeans pocket, “And I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, still waiting for his next step. Being sorry was only part of it.

“When you come home tomorrow, it’ll be different. I’m gonna pull my weight again. You have my word that I’ll only work when you work, and when you’re home,” he squared his shoulders, rocking his hips forward, nervous energy coursing through his body, “I’ll be home with you. I promise.”

You nodded, shifting your weight, staring down at your feet. Then, he called your attention with a caught breath and words that hurt you bone deep,

“You are coming home, right?”

You tried your honest best to fight the tears, but your body shuddered through a sob and you gasped in a sharp breath of air. He moved to hold you, to ascend the steps and repent, to be forgiven, but you held up your hand stopping him in his tracks,

“I won’t have you speaking to me like that, John. I won’t…” You thought about your words carefully, “I can’t be treated that way.”

“I understand, love. Believe me,” he chuckled, “I never want you to feel like that again.”

The way he rubbed his thumb across his sternum made your own chest hurt. He tried to approach you again, stepping up the wooden stairs, creaking under his weight, and he angled his chin up as if to kiss you. But, you stepped away, guarding your own heart for just a while longer.

The hunger in his eyes followed you like smoke from a fire, warming you with its heat.

“I’ll be home in the morning, John,” you said, turning to go back into the house.

The next morning, as you packed, you thought about his promise. You hoped that you were heard. Truly heard and not just for a week of good behavior. You deserved to be respected, and you wouldn’t let your relationship with him become so one-sided again.

When you pulled into your driveway, you expected to be greeted with the same dark, empty house. As you moved to pick your feet up over the usual mess of shoes, you discovered the foyer scrubbed to a high shine, and there was nothing to stumble upon. All the shoes were shoved into their little cubbies, and there wasn’t a dirty sock in sight. The living room was bright, clean, and John was standing in the middle of it, waiting for you. He took your bags, and scooped you up into a long, tight hug.

You thought he might try to kiss you, but he didn’t. He just held you against him, breathing in and out, not letting go. Your face was buried deep in his chest, and you could smell his aftershave mixing with the strong scent of his cigars, and a slight musk that was all him. You wanted to feel his fur against your cheek.

Suddenly, he grabbed your chin in his hand, making you face him, and he said in a dark, warm tone,

“I’m gonna be the me that you need me to be. From now on. I swear it.”

You felt his soft lips touch yours, kissing you chastely, then deeper, chasing your taste, finding your tongue, licking along its length, savoring your mouth like a treat, cherishing every suck and nip and bite.

“I missed you, John,” you admitted, feeling hot tears staining your cheeks, not realizing you were crying.

He wiped them from your temples, smearing them into your skin, cradling your head in his hands so carefully as if you were made of glass.

“I’ve been away. But, I swear, love. I swear, I’m back. I swear…”

His lips met your wet cheek and took your tears with them.

“I swear…”

He kissed your neck, holding your head in his huge paw.

“I swear…”

You ran your hands over his neck, encircling him, tugging at his shirt, needing to feel his skin. He hooked his arms over his head and rucked the shirt off his back, tossing it on the couch. He pulled you into his lap as he sat down, sinking into the cushions, kissing you like you might disappear again.

“I’m so sorry, love. Please forgive me,” John growled darkly, his deep voice rumbling between kisses.

“Forgiven,” you said, forcing him to look at you.

Then, he put his forehead to yours and let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes and simply rubbing your back, trailing his hands over your hips, pulling you in closer to him.

Tentatively, as if testing the waters of a deep well, you rocked your hips against him, seeing if you could get him to take the bait. If you had your husband back, you wanted to seal that promise with more than just a kiss.

He groaned,

“Mm, I don’t deserve that.”

You repeated the motion, feeling the twitch of his fat cock inside of his jeans, and you narrowed your eyes at him,

“Sex isn’t a reward. It’s our connection, and I need to feel you. I need my captain back.”

He smiled, nuzzling your jaw, peppering your skin with little, chirping kisses,

“Pretty girl… I missed you so much. What was I thinking?”

You shrugged, playing coy as you slipped off your leggings and set to undoing his buttons, opening the fly of his jeans to see the shock of dark hair and the swollen prize nestled in it,

“I dunno. Maybe you just needed a reminder?”

As you teased him at your entrance, letting his head play in your wet folds, you began to sink down onto his shaft, spearing yourself onto his length, rocking back and forth with a tantalizing rhythm.

“Mmngh,” he sighed, his eyes staring, transfixed on where your bodies reconnected.

Finally, after some effort, his girth was fully sheathed within you, warmed and cradled by your soft heat. You began to lift yourself on your knees up and down, dragging all the way to his rosy head and then sliding all the way back down to those brown curls, enjoying the faces he was making against his will.

However, he didn’t put up with your performance for long. Before you knew it, you were laying on the couch with your knees on your chest, taking every inch of his cock as deep as it would go. He had a gentle curve that, in this position, rubbed exactly where it needed to, pulling you along from one orgasm to the next like you were a kite, fully at his mercy and high as hell.

Your mind swam with murky, unintelligible thoughts, and he fucked you harder and harder, pounding himself into you like a machine. Sometimes you forgot his strength… and his stamina.

You whined a bit, your timbre changing from other-worldly pleasure to mild discomfort, and he picked up on it like a hound. He slowed, inspecting you, looking for the broken pieces.

“You alright, missus?” He said, kissing you, thrusting shallowly now, checking in with you.

“Can we sit?”

“C’mere.”

John pulled you into his lap and continued his efforts, rocking himself back and forth, holding your body like a toy. Then, he snaked his hand between you, giving your clit something firm to rub against, and you felt the tingles begin to build inside of your belly, a coil tightening, a dam under pressure, a firework ready to burst.

He was facing you, so you began to kiss him in a slow, supple way, letting your mouth fall open and your lips meet his with the lightest touch. John matched your energy, getting lost in your ritual, sending out the tip of his tongue to play and taste you again.

He pulled away and licked his fingers before returning them to your folds,

“Mmf-fuck. You are so bloody good.”

“I want you to come in me, baby,” you confessed, resting your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath.

You saw the surprise dance through his expression.

“You sure?”

You knew it wasn’t something you allowed very often. You’d been off of your birth control for a few months, trying to give your body a break from the hormones. And even though you weren’t trying for a baby, that was always a dream that you shared. For John, it was the ultimate dream.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, kissing his smiling mouth.

“Oh, fuck me,” he growled darkly, gripping you around your waist, changing the angle to something wholly transcendent. How did he do it? How did he know where your body needed him to be? It was absurd.

Everything was bright and glittering as you came around him, and you felt yourself squeezing his cock mercilessly, coming down his shaft in hot, thick coatings of creamy slick, unable to stop it from flooding out around him.

He, too, was erupting. He gasped for air, grunting in loud, animalistic shouts, his whole face contorted into a pleasure-filled rage, pumping you full of his soft, warm cream, frothing it with his rough movements.

Eventually, he flung his head back, holding you to him in a tight hug, his entire body moving and reacting without his input, fully on instinct. You held him back, clutching him against you like a lifeline.

You thought he would slip out of you once he was down from his high, but he didn’t. He simply held you to him, sweaty and desperate, letting himself soften inside of you. It was as if he didn’t want to leave.

“Thank you, love,” he kissed you again, shuddering yet powerful.

“It’s nice to have you home, John,” you smiled, letting his soft laughter warm your heart, basking in it like the sun.

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #captain john price #cod mwii #john price #cod #captain price #captain price x you #call of duty #captain price x female reader #captain john price x female reader #captain price x reader

1K notes · View notes

animeyanderelover · 10 months

Note

can i request gojo with a darling who can touch him even when his infinity is on? (I think it's canon that he can never turn it off completely so that would be his first time actually having physical contact with someone)

Huge thanks to everyone who helped me with this request by explaining how exactly Gojo’s abilities work! I’ll start watching the second season as soon as all episodes are out for anyone who is wondering. I added a bit of stuff to make for an more interesting read.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, clinginess, obsession, touchiness, manipulation, gaslighting, paranoia, isolation, abduction

The first touch

🩵Gojo has been having his eyes on you even before he knew about your very special abilities. That basically means that you have this white-haired menace terrorising your daily life whenever he can. You almost have the impression that he can sniff you out among the many million people in Tokyo as he always finds you somehow. You're honestly just so fed up with him but are terribly introverted and feel too scared and awkward to explain to him clearly how you feel about his constant intrusion. You doubt that it would get through his head anyways so you silently endure the man's clingy, whiny and increasingly affectionate antics. Satoru knows no personal boundaries when it comes to you or rather he just decides to ignore it. You're just too cute~ Your unwillingness to stand up for yourself leads to ruthless abuse from his side.

🩵He has had it coming one way or another as he senses your growing frustration with his unbelievable clinginess and disrespect of your privacy. Worst is that he's at this point provoking you because he wants to see what you look like when you snap. So when your string of patience finally snaps as you feel his hands rubbing your shoulders and fawning over your current anger, you've had enough. You swing your heavy handbag at him in a moment of short and impulsive anger. Satoru doesn't move from his spot as he doesn't worry. His Infinity is activated so the handbag won't hit him. It'll easily just be seen as you missing your target, which is right now his handsome face. He sees your handbag moving closer to his face and just gives a small grin... At least until the fucking thing smashes against his face with full force, heavy with all of your stuff inside.

🩵Everyone who would know him, would probably laugh at him if they would see him in that moment. The almighty Satoru, stumbling back in shock before tripping over his own feet and landing onto the ground. That would have never happened if he would have been around anyone else. But he isn't around anyone. He's with you. Sweet, weak and lovable non-sorcerer you. Around you he never has his guard up unless he senses danger. Not because he underestimates you, although he definitely does, but because he feels like he can just be himself around you. That's why he's so thoroughly unprepared for this. For a moment he just sits on the ground in bewilderment, his face pulsing with pain from the impact it just had with your handbag. You start frantically apologizing as soon as you realize what you've done, flip a bit out when blood seeps out of his nose. You quickly rummage through your handbag as you search for something to stop the bleeding.

🩵Gojo on the other hand, who slowly starts coming back to reality after this major shock, touches his face in a daze. When he pulls his hand back, his fingertips are covered in blood, in his own blood. He looks at the red liquid like it is something he has never seen before in his life, as if it's something alien-like, before he jumps abruptly up. You flinch and shrink when he bents down to your height, brilliant blue eyes seemingly trying to look deep into your soul as he asks you quietly how you just did that. His voice is slightly strained with emotions you can't fully detect. You do see some of them swirling around in his eyes. Curiosity, shock, surprise but also something else. Something you haven't sensed in the silly and clingy man before. It unsettles you deeply. You don't even know what he just meant with his question just now and Satoru seems to realize that too as he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again.

🩵He leaves you a while after that incident and even if he tries to keep his normal facade up, you sense that something has startled him. If only you'd know. Satoru's mind is occupied with this accident the whole day. How were you able to do that? You're a non-sorcerer by all accounts and he didn't sense any cursed energy from you nor from anywhere around you. You were honestly expecting him to not show his face so soon again yet instead he rings at your apartment in the early morning hours. You're majorly confused and frightened by the fact that he seems to know where you live as you have never told him that yet Gojo pushes past you like he's been here a hundred times before. His eyes briefly fly through your current home, noting that it is quite small if you'd live with him, you could have everything you would want before he asks you the most ridiculous question you've heard all week. "Can you slap me?"

🩵You look at the man as if he has suffered from brain damage due to your handbag yesterday. How does one even respond to such a request?! Weirdest of all is that he looks at you with genuinely curious eyes. Can you slap him? Can you touch him with your own hands and everything you hold in your hands even if his Infinity is on? You hesitate a tad bit too long before he decides to provoke you a bit to anger you enough to do as he just asked you. It works as it is early morning, you've just found out that he knows where you lived and you're also still quite tired. You're in no condition to endure his teasing as he reminds you of embarrassing accidents he's had the joy of witnessing. The next thing he knows, he feels the impact of your hand against his cheek with more strength than he assumed. Maybe he underestimated your strength just a tiny, tiiiiny bit. Nevertheless though, as he rubs his stinging cheek his eyes are glued to you as a realization comes to him that changes his life. You, a non-sorcerer, somehow have the ability to seemingly nullify his Infinity... How?

🩵It must be the biggest irony of the universe. His darling is metaphorically and literally his one and only biggest weakness. A tiny part of him really has to chuckle about this but for the most part, Gojo suddenly grows by leaps and bounds more paranoid. He is the strongest in the sorcerer world and he couldn't even count on both hands how many people constantly pray for his downfall but can only do that as he is literally untouchable. With his situation he would already be under normal circumstances be overprotective and slightly paranoid that someone would instead resort to making you a target and use you against Gojo. He has to protect weak you for that reason against all the evil in this world. Yet with the knowledge that you can touch and by extension of that also harm him, a new fear inside of him grows. What if his enemies would decide to set you up against him to have you kill him? Or worse, what if you yourself would decide to rebel against him and would try to harm him?

🩵If you wouldn't have this special talent, he wouldn't be worried. Because then you simply wouldn't be able to harm him although your betrayal would still badly sting due to the lingering scars of Geto's betrayal. Yet with the added aspect that you can actually hurt him, Gojo's paranoia worsens. The image of you being his downfall, the only person he genuinely loves and trusts in this world, breaks him somehow. It isn't likely considering that he is far above you in all physical aspects and still has other abilites, not to mention that you would never sink that low, yet the fact that it is the tiniest possibility is enough to drive him a bit mad. You'd never do that, right? You love and care too much to ever think about killing him or even slightly harming him, right?

🩵You don't know where those sudden insecurities and his paranoia come from, you never imagined the Satoru you knew for a while to be so fragile underneath all his confidence and silliness. You wish that he could revert back to that side of him, even if it was possibly only a facade. Because now Satoru is downright suffocating and scares you even. You can't do anything to escape his tight grasp though and even if he doesn't hold you, you're still stuck in your new home. In his own huge mansion, installed with a security system that would never allow you to step outside unless he's with you. You will never leave his side, he won't let you. No one is allowed to find out about you and your one of a kind abilities. It is the bittersweetest irony ever. The warm touches of yours he so yearns for are the only ones who could also kill him.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader

1K notes · View notes

pin-k-ink · 5 months

Text

rendezvous // nanami kento

tw ⇢ implied age gap, possessive!nanami, sexual tension, teasing, gloryhole, fingering, grinding, dub-con, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, biting, rough sex

wc ⇢ 6.4k

The door to Nanami's apartment burst open without preamble, the familiar whirlwind of energy you'd come to associate with your personal brand of chaos already whipping through the space.

"Nanami-san!" Your melodious voice rang out in greeting before you even fully crossed the threshold. "You'll never guess what outrageous thing just happ---ooh..."

Your impish flow of words stuttered to an abrupt halt as you caught sight of Nanami emerging from the bathroom. A towel hung precariously low around those slender hips you'd admired far too many times, leaving miles of toned muscle and glistening skin distractingly on display.

Despite your own tendency to flirt shamelessly, you still felt heat blossoming across your cheekbones at the unexpectedly intimate sight. Somehow you managed to rally enough to let your eyes perform a very slow, unabashed rake down the ridge of his abdomen and back up again.

"Well hello there, Nanami-san," you purred with a devilish lilt, emboldened by the brief flare of something akin to panic flickering across his typically unruffled features. "Don't mind me, please...continue putting on a show."

There it was - that fractional tightening at the corners of his clear grey eyes that signaled you'd successfully managed to rattle him, if only momentarily. Nanami tugged the towel a bit higher with an air of lofty disregard even as he arched one cool brow.

"You're incorrigible, you realize that?" His deep timbre managed to convey fond exasperation despite the husky undercurrent your mind unhelpfully insisted on reading into. "What part of boundaries or personal space fails to register with that troublesome brain of yours?"

You made a big show of propping your chin in your palms and appeared to consider his faux-stern chiding with exaggerated seriousness. "Well, now that you mention it...wiggling my way into your personal space uninvited is one of my favorite hobbies. Especially when you react like that."

Relishing the sight of the muscle feathering along Nanami's squared jawline, you punctuated your remark with another shameless once-over that had him huffing out a longsuffering sigh. You counted it as a victory any time that impeccably stoic facade chipped even a little.

"You're insufferable," he muttered again, somehow managing to infuse the insult with grudging fondness even as his eyes glittered like flint. "Well? Out with it then. What petulant nonsense demands my attention this time?"

Waving a hand carelessly, you straightened and finally tore your roving gaze away from the feast for the eyes that was Nanami's physique. "Oh, you know...the usual. One of your fellow Jujutsu sorcerers was being a disrespectful ass, prompting me to put him squarely in his place. By which I mean I may have given him a black eye..."

Nanami simply stared at you for a long beat, clearly trying to discern if you were joking or not. When your bright, innocent expression didn't crack, he blew out an exasperated sigh and scrubbed one hand down his face.

"Of course you did..." He muttered the words more to himself than you. "I don't know why I even bother questioning the antics you'll stoop to anymore."

"Hey!" You acted affronted, putting your hands on your hips. "That jerk had it coming. He made a few off-color remarks that I simply couldn't ignore."

Nanami's gaze sharpened a bit at that. "Remarks aimed at you?"

There was an undercurrent in his tone that sent a little thrill down your spine. You fought back a grin, having successfully piqued the protective edge you so loved provoking.

Waving a dismissive hand, you assured, "Nothing I couldn't handle, trust me. Let's just say that pig will be rethinking his vocabulary from here on out."

The slightest downturn of Nanami's lips signaled his disapproval, but rather than lecture, he simply shook his head. "I shouldn't be surprised you took matters into your own hands, as usual."

"You know how I abhor jerks who can't keep their traps shut," you said breezily, plopping down on his couch like you owned the place and stretching out languidly. You made sure to let your shirt ride up just a bit, offering a teasing glimpse of toned abdomen.

True to form, Nanami's eyes strayed there for the barest flicker before he averted his gaze with an undecipherable grunt. You bit back a grin of triumph.

"Why do I get the feeling you went out of your way to instigate this...black eye instance," he drawled after a moment, rejoining you in the living area. His towel had been swapped for a simple t-shirt and lounge pants that rode dangerously low on his hips. You made no effort to hide your frankly appraising gaze this time.

Stretching your arms up over your head, you played innocent. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't play coy." Nanami fixed you with that no-nonsense stare that always made something in the pit of your stomach go warm and liquidy. "You actively court trouble when left to your own devices."

"I simply have zero tolerance for rude, ill-mannered asses who deserve to be taken down a peg." You shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm doing the world a public service, really."

Nanami scoffed at that, but you caught the subtle twitch of his lips in a suppressed smirk. "A public service, she says..."

"Oh, admit it." You shot him a sly look, getting up and closing the distance between you with a provocative sway of your hips. "You love how I never back down from a conflict. How I always dish it back twice as hard as I get it."

Nanami visibly stiffened as you invaded his personal space, though his expression remained studiedly impassive. "And just what," he murmured in a pitched undertone, "is that supposed to imply, exactly?"

You grinned slowly, delighting in the way his gunmetal eyes involuntarily dropped to trace the swell of your lips. "Oh, I think you know perfectly well what I'm implying, Nanami-san..."

Trailing one fingertip up the center of his chest, you relished the way his musculature twitched beneath the whisper-light caress. Felt his shallow inhale as you leaned in until the subtlest shift would bring your bodies flush together.

"You can play dumb all you want," you murmured, purposefully allowing your warm breath to fan across his parted lips. "But we both know you get off on my...tenacious spirit, so to speak."

Nanami's jaw worked wordlessly for a moment, those versatile eyes darkening with unreadable intent. When he spoke again, his deep timbre had taken on a distinctly reverberated edge that danced like static electricity across your nerves.

"You seem to be operating under the misguided impression that I find your hotheaded antics charming in the slightest." One calloused palm rose to splay against your hip, the blistering heat of his skin raising delicious prickles despite the layers between you. "When in fact...I find them unbecoming. Childish, even."

You couldn't repress your full-body shiver at the subtle increase of pressure from his fingertips digging into your waistline. Nanami's mouth curved into a sharp smile at your reaction, gaze locked with searing intensity.

"Then again, perhaps a little...discipline might go a long ways towards reforming your more reckless habits." He punctuated the oblique suggestion by slowly trailing his other palm up the slender column of your neck until he cradled your jaw with just a hint of constriction.

Fire lanced through your veins at the titillating implication and naked challenge burning in Nanami's stare. You allowed your lashes to dip in a pointed sweep as a flush crept across your cheekbones.

"Is that...Is that a promise, Nanami-san?" You all but purred, leaning further into the scorching brand of his coaxing grip. "Because you know how I do love a good...disciplinary session..."

An imperceptible muscle ticked high on his cheekbone. Then Nanami gently but firmly extracted himself from your tangled orbit, spinning away to put critical distance between you. His next words emerged pitched low enough to resonant straight through your solar plexus.

"As tempting as that proposal is, you and I both know it's a dangerous road to travel." A weighty pause as you stared, rooted and ragingly at the rigid line of his back. "Play with fire often enough and someone inevitably gets burned, little wildflower."

He threw the husky endearment your way over one corded shoulder before slipping towards the kitchen, leaving you flushed and thunderously aroused and more than a little confused by his abrupt dismissal.

Something indecipherable and molten seeped beneath Nanami's parting words, igniting embers you couldn't allow yourself to fully comprehend lest they catch and blaze into wildfire between you. You were left with the unsettling feeling that behind the constant push-and-pull provocations you'd grown accustomed to...a deeper truth was steadily taking defiant root.

The next time you barged into Nanami's apartment unannounced, it was to find him fresh from the shower once again. He emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam with a towel slung precariously low on his hips, damp hair in artful disarray.

You froze mid-stride, rapidly becoming an expert at not overtly ogling despite the instinctive flare of heat suffusing your gaze. Nanami merely arched one brow at your abrupt halt, calm as a lake at dawn.

"Boundaries, wildflower," was his only chiding as he brushed past you towards the bedroom to dress. "Do learn them."

You snapped your jaw shut, determined not to be so easily flustered into silence. Turning, you trailed after him with purposefully loud footfalls. "You say that, and yet it's clear you have no problem prancing about with your delicious body on display, sensei."

The slightest falter in Nanami's stride was the only indication he registered your boldly provocative tone. Rallying, you closed the distance until you could reach out and brazenly trail fingertips along the rigid planes of his back.

"One might even think," you practically purred, "that you leave so little to the imagination on purpose. As a...delectable temptation."

Nanami stilled then, a detectable frisson of awareness tightening his shoulders. His next exhale emerged slightly more uneven. "Is that so?"

You hummed a wordless affirmative, thoroughly enjoying the way he was so clearly struggling to maintain that vaunted stoicism. "Oh, absolutely. Which begs the question...who exactly is the tease here, sensei?"

When Nanami turned at last, his expression was severe enough to stoke fresh heat through your veins. In two large strides he was looming into your personal space, turbulent eyes searching your expression.

"You're playing a very dangerous game, wildflower," he murmured in that raspy timbre that never failed to liquify your insides. "One I'm not certain you have the...discipline to withstand."

You tilted your head, aiming for an air of nonchalance despite the wild thrumming of your pulse. "And if I said that was exactly the sort of game I wanted us to play?"

Something flickered behind Nanami's gaze then - a blazing mix of hunger, yearning, cherished restraint. His hand lifted as though of its own volition to cup the line of your jaw, thumb rasping along the swell of your lower lip. You shuddered at the overwhelming intimacy of the contact.

"Then I'd advise extreme caution, little wildflower," Nanami husked, robbing you of breath. "Because this particular game has very...severe consequences if indulged for overlong."

You swayed towards him like a flower seeking the sun's warmth. "Is that a promise...or a threat, sensei?"

Nanami's lashes swept downward briefly, shielding his expression. Then his fingers contracted in a searing grip, tilting your face upwards once more to impale you with a look more heated than a newborn star going supernova.

"From me?" His voice emerged little more than a graveled rasp edged with dark sin. "Always...both."

Then he released you, spinning away with an abruptness that nearly sent you staggering in its wake. You blinked dazedly for several moments before finding your voice.

"You can't keep running from this, you know," you called after Nanami's retreating back, striving for some semblance of composure. "Whatever...this is."

He paused in the threshold leading out as if weighted down by your quiet accusation. For an endless beat, you didn't think he'd respond. Then finally his head inclined a fraction.

"No..." The deep timbre seemed to come from someplace infinite and cavernous within him. "But neither can you keep recklessly goading the beast, wildflower. Not unless you're prepared for when it inevitably turns...and gives everything you're baiting it to consume."

The unspoken warning hung taut and thrumming between you like a live wire as Nanami exited without a backward glance. As always, you were left scorched yet painfully unfulfilled by one more near miss on the razor's edge of capitulation. Left to wonder just how many more times you could bait the line between you before one of you finally tumbled over into the abyss.

It was one of those unseasonably warm nights when not even the whirring air conditioning unit could quite displace the thick, languid humidity that seemed to cling to every surface. You shifted restlessly on Nanami's couch, skin feeling feverish and tightly confined by your lightweight loungewear.

"Are you always this fidgety?" Nanami's dry remark dragged your gaze over to where he sat in the nearby armchair, seemingly unbothered by the stifling mugginess. Unlike you, he looked perfectly at ease in a thin sleeveless top and loose pants.

You tried not to stare too overtly at the bared expanse of toned arms and chest on display, but it was difficult not to be transfixed. Nanami radiated an almost elemental sort of virility in the low lighting that made your mouth water.

Forcing your attention upwards with arduous effort, you shot him a flat look. "Easy for you to say, all cool and composed over there."

One dark brow inched upwards at your unsubtle admiration and subsequent grumbling. "Are you quite alright, wildflower? You seem..."

"Don't start with me," you warned, unable to disguise the breathless lilt your voice had taken on. You tugged at the neckline of your shirt, trying fruitlessly to coax in a cross breeze. "It's stifling as hell in here."

Nanami's gaze grew distinctly hooded at the motion, tracking the bead of sweat that trailed down the hollow of your throat. "Is that so?"

You fought back a squirm at the molten weight of his stare roving your heated skin. "Yes, so unless you've got a better way to cool me off..."

The suggestive words hung heavily between you. An inviting sort of hush seemed to settle over the room as the air conditioning unit puttered to a halt in the corner. A few protracted beats of silence ticked by, the only sounds your mingled breaths.

Then Nanami unfolded himself from his chair with that unhurried, predatory grace you'd come to admire. You were already flushed warm from the smothering atmosphere, but fresh heat prickled outwards across your exposed curves at his approach.

Rather than stop or re-establish the usual measurable distance between you, Nanami continued stalking forth until his shins brushed the sofa. Your breath came a little quicker as he loomed over you.

"There are," he said at last, deep tone thrumming like a resonant bassline through your nerve endings, "other ways to find relief from the swelter."

The sheltering weight of his body blocked out most of the low light, casting you in austere shadow. As if moving in slow dream sequence, Nanami braced one knee beside your hip on the couch and extended a calloused palm to toy with the top button of your shirt.

You swallowed audibly, utterly pinned beneath his smoldering scrutiny as one by one, those deft fingers slipped each fastening free. The thin material slowly parted to expose damp skin and bra-covered breasts slicked with perspiration. Nanami's heavy exhalation stirred wisps of hair at your flushed nape.

"Allow me..." he murmured, so softly the words seemed to skim your parted lips.

Then one broad palm seared a scorching trail up your abdomen and over your ribs, leaving sizzling imprints in its wake. You arched helplessly into the shocking contact before Nanami smoothed back down again in an unbearably light caress. Over and over until you were trembling and dizzy, nerves going haywire beneath his carnal ministrations.

When Nanami eventually drifted to a stop with his knuckles just grazing your lower belly, you were panting harshly. He regarded you through lowered lashes with an indecipherable gleam in his turbulent eyes.

"Better?" Nanami rasped at last.

You could only shakily incline your head, not trusting your voice. He hummed vague acknowledgment, then leaned in until you could taste the bittersweet tang of his skin on the hot exhale that gusted across your slick throat.

"Good..." Nanami's voice plunged to a bass register that seemed to resonate within your very bones. "Because we're just...getting...started..."

Those last words emerged with searing emphasis alongside the smoldering graze of his teeth against your hammering pulse point. You didn't even have time to process the full-body convulsion that lashed through your every atom.

With one final inscrutable look, Nanami rose and turned on his heel for the refuge of his bedroom without further comment. Leaving you scorched and reeling and somehow aching more intensely than before in the aftermath of his singularly incendiary attentions.

The charged encounters seemed to escalate after that pivotal night of Nanami doling out his own scorching brand of torturous relief. As if a dam had fractured, allowing those deeper undercurrents to steadily bleed through in increasingly overt ways.

You started noticing the little unconscious habits – like how Nanami would trap you with that darkly penetrating stare and simply hold your gaze hostage for protracted beats. Saying nothing, but letting the weighty lasciviousness of his attention prickle satisfying frissons across your nerves.

Or the way his palms seemed to migrate towards any naked slice of your skin when you occupied the same space. Calloused fingertips feathering delirious patterns along your arms, the dip of your spine, the swell of your ankle as if staking proprietary claim. Never overt enough to blatantly cross lines, but absolutely calculated to leave you buzzing on that razor's edge of sweet agony.

In the training rooms, the subtle touches evolved into something more...purposeful. Nanami's solid frame would bracket you from behind under the guise of adjusting your stance or redirecting a strike. His pelvis would grind lightly but meaningfully against your backside as anvil-calloused palms mapped the feminine curves of your body in sweeping, indolent arcs.

You'd shudder overtly at the branded heat of Nanami's chest sealing against your back, ogni sculpted ridge and hollow etched in searing bas-relief. The rasp of his words would gust hotly against the nape of your neck, each consonant seeming to reverberate straight through to your very core in delicious impact tremors.

"Loosen your grip, wildflower..." He'd murmur with quiet authority, those skilled fingertips adjusting your wrist ever-so-slightly. "Don't let the tension compromise your form."

You always fought not to whimper at the flickering caresses skating so perilously close to your breasts and inner thighs. But Nanami never missed the tremors that betrayed your responses, nostrils flaring as if he could physically sense the spiking arousal suffusing your scent.

Sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose - stoking those banked embers until your entire universe contracted down to the searing brand of his touch claiming you from all sides. Other times you knew with dizzying certainty Nanami was simply struggling not to fully unravel like you, forcing every iota of discipline not to tumble over that event horizon together.

Those unguarded moments always began the same - with you mindlessly palming a paperweight or odd trinket on his desk while waiting for Nanami to finish reviewing some bureaucratic report. Focusing so intently on anything besides how deliciously snug his shirt clung to those carved planes of musculature that you missed Nanami straightening from his task.

Suddenly the heavy, grounding warmth of Nanami's broad palm would engulf yours, fingers curling to halt the idle motions. You'd suck in a sharp inhale at the overwhelming physicality and subtle dominance of the hold even as Nanami crowded in from behind. Close enough that the scorching furnace of his chest brushed your back with each cycle of breath.

You knew better than to so much as shift beneath that vise-like anchor. Instead, you'd go utterly still and pliant, waiting with thundering heart for whatever darkly intimate encounter Nanami seemed intent on precipitating.

Sure enough, his unoccupied hand would eventually alight upon some stretch of naked skin. The sensitive inner crease of your elbow, perhaps, or dust featherlight across your collarbone. You'd tremble violently despite willing every synapse not to react, feeling the blistering heat of Nanami's stare tracking each micro-response.

"Keep still," he'd husk in that decadent timbre that somehow carried the laconic menace of a growl.

Then his palm would slowly, inexorably glide upwards in a searing map – following each tendon and hollow with merciless precision. Tracing the fragile wrist, meandering higher along your forearm in unhurried exploration until you writhed beneath the exquisite torture.

Only for Nanami to just as abruptly release and pivot away before shattering either of your rapidly thinning veneers of control. Leaving you frayed but unfulfilled, forced to clutch slick fists against clenching thighs while surreptitiously willing your body back from that precipice.

Each time, he'd turn just before exiting and pin you with a look so molten, so fraught with escalating promise, that you felt branded straight through to your very atoms. A look that clearly said one of these encounters would finally crest into irrevocable capitulation...

It was only a matter of whittling down whose restraints unraveled first.

The cursed spirit had been more formidable than anticipated, ripping through the crumbling ruins and scattering debris like a vengeful tornado. You'd gotten separated from Nanami amid the chaos, flushed out into a small courtyard overrun with thick vegetation.

The explosive force of the cursed spirit detonating the ground sent you tumbling head over heels. Debris pelted you from all sides as the world dissolved into a disorientating vortex of darkness and noise.

Eventually, you fetched up hard against uneven surfaces - the wind forcibly expelled from your lungs. Dazed, you blinked against the ringing in your ears and tried to get your bearings.

That's when you realized the precarious positioning you'd ended up in. Your upper body was sprawled face down on one side of a deep crevasse in the courtyard's surface. But your hips and legs were wedged firmly on the opposite side of the narrow gap, splayed obscenely with your backside lewdly displayed.

You wiggled experimentally, but whatever rubble and stonework had you pinned refused to budge an inch. The sound of approaching footsteps filtering through the dust had you stilling instantly, stomach swooping with anxious trepidation.

"Wildflower?" Nanami's authoritative baritone cut through the settling debris like a blade as his tall silhouette emerged from the gloom. "Are you--"

His words stuttered off in a momentary pause as he clearly registered the revealing way you were positioned. You flushed hotly, not needing to look back over your shoulder to feel the weight of his piercing assessment raking across your trapped body.

A protracted beat of silence stretched between you, thick enough to almost taste. Then Nanami continued his unhurried advance until you could sense the imposing bulk of his frame looming squarely behind you.

You hunched instinctively, adrenaline spiking despite yourself as his next words emerged amid the susurrant whisper of him crouching down directly at your exposed backside.

"My, my..." There was a slumberous sort of appreciation threaded through his deep timbre that raised prickles across your sensitized nerves. "You certainly have an uncanny penchant for ending up in the most...precarious situations, little wildflower."

The lightest feather-brush of his fingertips traced up the sensitive tendons of your inner ankle in blatant suggestion - a measured, purposeful caress that had you sucking in a sharp inhale. Nanami didn't miss your microreaction if his low, rumbling chuckle was any indication.

"One might start to think you choreograph such incidents." Another few idle sweeps higher along your calf raised electrifying contrails in their wake. "Practically begging for...intensive correction through whatever intimate disciplinary methods I deem suitable."

You clenched your jaw, fighting the delirious spiral of heat those subtly lascivious implications stoked despite yourself. Still, you couldn't quite repress the full-bodied shiver as his calloused palms skated up your outer thighs in unerringly light, scorching trails.

Inch by agonizing inch, Nanami's hands roamed higher in unhurried exploration. Mapping every twitch and tremor you unsuccessfully tried to stifle as his fingertips blazed scorching paths along the innermost apex of your splayed thighs.

"So eager..." His approving rumble seemed to resonate straight through your very marrow. "Even in this unorthodox setting, your form practically begs for correction, wildflower."

You squeezed your eyes shut against the kaleidoscope of frissons detonating everywhere his callused palms grazed. Willing your body not to react so transparently to Nanami's purposefully provocative ministrations. The exquisite torture of having him so brazenly dominate your personal space in such an intimate manner while remaining infuriatingly composed.

"P-Perhaps if my mentor didn't insist on such...private discipline, I wouldn't find myself in these situations," you managed at last, voice emerging more breathless than intended.

Nanami tsked softly in clear rebuke, the sound vibrating against your over-sensitized nerves. "Now, now...we both know that's a blatant lie."

You shuddered freely as one palm smoothed up your thigh in a lingering, purposefully possessive glide. Higher and higher until he cradled the plush of your ass, fingertips searing into the flesh.

You squirmed ineffectually against the ruthless drag of Nanami's deliberate inspection, each measured graze leaving towering infernos in its wake. Yet somehow that only seemed to spur him on, fanning the sweet agony sizzling through your nerves hotter still.

"I can't decide," he husked at last, devouring you in a smolder that all but stripped you naked, "whether I should punish you first for such carelessness...or simply take advantage of having you so sweetly trapped for me."

Your lips parted on a tremulous sound you couldn't quite stifle as Nanami's palm finally curved around your outer thigh in a scorching, proprietary brand. He squeezed once in clear emphasis before dragging his nails up the sensitive interior in a whisper-light threat that detonated your senses into white heat.

"Then again, perhaps I'll simply keep you here a while longer," he growled with barely restrained wildfire bleeding through the rasped words. "As tempting as this tantalizing tableau is, I do so enjoy watching you writhe for me, little wildflower..."

Despite the sodden ache building with each lascivious caress and purring avowment, you managed to rally one last defiant spark behind a hooded stare. "Is that...so?"

Nanami's flinty eyes glittered like sun-struck obsidian as he bent closer still, allowing the solid ridge of his arousal to nestle against the juncture of your thighs.

"Oh yes..." he breathed, the words gusting across your damp, parted lips. "But allow me to give you a little...preview to ponder, hmm?"

Before you could react, his other palm cupped your opposite ass cheek in a stinging grip and gave a deliberate, carnal grind. The searing press of his clothed length against your swollen slit through the flimsy barriers between you left you gasping.

"Consider this a...taste," he rumbled darkly, "of what's to come should I decide to keep you here and thoroughly ruin you."

He punctuated the decadent threat with a second slow thrust, ensuring the blistering length of his cock grazed against your engorged clit in a way that made your toes curl. Then he withdrew, leaving you throbbing and panting and desperate for more.

Nanami straightened, a darkly appreciative sound reverberating deep within his broad chest. You shivered uncontrollably beneath his proprietary gaze raking across your prone, splayed body.

"Such a good little wildflower," he husked, eyes hooded with blatant carnality. "Just imagine if someone else were to wander across you in such a helpless state..."

He trailed off as his stare dipped meaningfully to where your slick arousal glistened along the seam of your pussy, fully visible in the obscene angle of your body. A low, feral rumble sounded in his chest before he spoke once more in a sin-dark timbre.

"How delicious it would be to have you like this..." A single finger traced the seam of your soaked panties in a searing, feather-light caress that made you jolt. "So helpless, so needy...so ready to be filled and utterly wrecked."

You sucked in a sharp breath at the erotic picture he painted with the suggestive drag of his fingertip against your drenched folds. Imagining being found by someone less discerning and honorable than Nanami – some other male who might not resist the temptation to sample the pretty little morsel on offer.

Nanami's eyes narrowed slightly as if sensing the direction your thoughts had strayed. A soft, rumbling hum issued from his broad chest as his calloused touch migrated higher, skimming the curve of your ass before delving lower.

"Imagine some stranger coming upon you in such a vulnerable state," he mused aloud, voice pitched even deeper and rougher with restrained desire. "How they would take advantage of having you so utterly at their mercy."

Nanami's thumb pressed in a slow, searing circle against your pulsing clit through the thin material, dragging a strangled moan from your chest. "How they would strip away these pesky coverings..."

He emphasized the lurid suggestion by sliding the barrier aside and stroking directly against your slick flesh, making you jolt at the scalding contact.

"And how they would bury themselves within your sweet, yielding pussy." He punctuated the final, filthy words by plunging two thick fingers deep inside.

You didn't stand a chance. Not with his sinfully skilled digits pumping at just the right angle, the lewd, wet sounds filling the space between you. Not when he'd already brought you so close to the edge with his earlier teasing.

You came explosively, the world contracting into a single pinpoint of blissful sensation. Distantly, you were aware of Nanami's guttural exclamation, his palm gripping your hip to anchor you steady as he wrung every ounce of pleasure from your body.

You were barely coming down from the mind-blowing high when his hand withdrew, replaced a moment later by the blunt tip of his cock. The scorching contact sent fresh waves of need lashing through your veins, reawakening the feverish ache in the space of a single heartbeat.

Nanami groaned deep in his chest at the molten contact, his pelvis grinding lightly against your backside. "God, wildflower, you're so...fucking wet. I could take you just like this. Would you let me? Or would you beg for me to stop? Not that you'd be able to do much beyond writhe in place and take it."

You whimpered helplessly, a fresh gush of arousal dampening your inner thighs at the depraved fantasy he painted.

Your core clenching hungrily at the thought of him sliding home with one relentless thrust, filling you to the hilt and pounding away with wild abandon.

"Tell me, wildflower," Nanami all but growled, hips jerking in an involuntary thrust that had the tip of his cock notching against your weeping entrance. "Would you beg for mercy...or would you spread those legs and take every inch I gave you?"

A desperate keening noise escaped as you arched into him, trying futilely to drive him deeper. Your body had already capitulated to the carnal temptation. But it wasn't enough, not when Nanami remained stubbornly immobile.

"Tell me," he ordered with quiet authority, calloused palms squeezing the swell of your ass hard enough to sting.

"Yes!" The word erupted from your throat with the force of a dam finally breaking. "Yes, I'd spread my legs and beg for you to fuck me. Please, Kento..."

The effect of his name spilling from your lips was instantaneous. Nanami's hips jerked forward, sheathing himself to the hilt within your clenching heat. A rough, primal noise was torn from his chest as he bottomed out, his entire frame trembling from the effort of remaining motionless.

Then his hands gripped the swell of your hips hard enough to bruise and began a ruthlessly punishing rhythm, pistoning into your sopping cunt with single-minded purpose. It was exactly as you'd fantasized, only better. Because you could feel the tension thrumming through every sculpted ridge and hollow of his powerful body, the coiled violence barely restrained.

Nanami was taking his pleasure just as much as yours, his every harsh, panting breath seeming to reverberate through you. As if your very bodies had melded, become one singular entity of pure, molten desire.

It was the most intensely, blissfully satisfying feeling you'd ever experienced, knowing he'd finally unraveled. Finally lost control and succumbed to the raw, animalistic lust he'd been harboring.

And it was all for you.

The thought pushed you higher and higher still until the only thing keeping you tethered was the brutal rhythm of his pelvis slamming against your upturned backside. It was all too much, and not enough, and not nearly enough.

You writhed uncontrollably, pinned on the blade's edge of pleasure as Nanami's fingers dug punishing grooves into your skin. The wet, vulgar slap of his cock pistoning into you drowned out the needy little noises tumbling from your lips.

You could tell Nanami was rapidly approaching his peak by the ragged hitch of his breathing, the increasingly jerky, frantic thrusts of his hips. And yet, even now, he was clearly striving to ensure you came first.

One of his broad palms shifted from its bruising grip on your hip, his calloused fingers finding the swollen nub of your clit and applying just the right amount of pressure. You cried out sharply, vision whiting out at the edges as he stroked you with the perfect mix of friction and gentleness.

"Let go, wildflower," he growled, each harsh syllable vibrating against your overstimulated nerve endings. "Cum for me..."

Then he gave a particularly vicious thrust, his cock bottoming out in your quivering channel. The sudden pressure and fullness combined with the wicked, knowing caress of his fingertips shattered what was left of your fraying restraint.

You came apart at the seams, crying out his name as wave after wave of indescribable pleasure crashed through you. Nanami fucked you through it, drawing out the exquisite sensations for several long moments until your body went lax.

Only then did his tempo shift, growing erratic and choppy. His hips stuttered against your ass once, twice, three times, before he buried himself balls-deep with a ragged groan. The thick heat of his release filled you, leaving you dazed and trembling from the sheer intensity of the encounter.

As you slowly came back to awareness, you registered that Nanami had sagged against you, his large frame still shuddering through the final ripples of release. With a concerted effort, you wriggled against the loosened debris.

That was all the signal he needed. In a seamless, predatory movement, Nanami surged upright. With one hand firmly anchored around your hip and the other braced against the rubble trapping you, he easily lifted your weight to free you.

Then he was tugging you upwards into his arms and claiming your mouth in a searing kiss. It was all teeth and tongue, devouring and dominant. A promise of all the ways he was going to ruin you next.

You shuddered in his arms, eagerly parting your lips beneath the demanding invasion. Your arms wound around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer as his scent and taste overwhelmed you.

"God, I want you," Nanami rasped against your mouth, sounding almost tortured. "Need to be inside you, wildflower. Feel that perfect little cunt squeezing me again."

"Yes," you whimpered, already achingly empty after only a brief respite. "I need you, Kento. Need to feel you..."

"Mine," he all but snarled, the words more beast than man.

In the next breath, Nanami had you pressed against a nearby wall, the rough stone rasping against your exposed curves. He lifted your legs around his hips, his thick cock notching against your swollen entrance.

His mouth crashed down upon yours once more in a savage, bruising kiss as he began driving into you. The thick, unbridled length of his arousal stretching you impossibly full, the sensation overwhelming and intoxicating all at once.

Each hard, possessive thrust drove the breath from your lungs. Your fingernails dug into his muscled back, no doubt leaving angry welts in their wake. Nanami groaned into the kiss, the sound resonating deep in his broad chest and sending electric shivers along your spine.

His hands gripped your ass tight enough to bruise, guiding your hips to meet his punishing rhythm. You couldn't help the breathy gasps that escaped, each exhale seeming to mingle with his ragged breaths.

Your entire world had contracted down to the molten points of connection between your bodies. The feel of his calloused palms searing your bare skin, the heady scent of him enveloping you, the wet, decadent sounds filling the air.

Nanami's forehead dropped to yours, his molten gaze piercing through the lust-haze fogging your senses. "Say it again," he demanded hoarsely, eyes glittering with something raw and fierce. "Say my name."

"Kento," you breathed, the single word seeming to resonate through every nerve ending.

His rhythm grew frenzied, the lewd smack of his hips against your inner thighs echoing throughout the courtyard. You arched into him, fingers fisting desperately in his hair.

"Again," he snarled, nipping at your lower lip. "Tell me whose name you'll be screaming as I fuck you senseless, wildflower."

"Yours, Kento," you gasped, teetering on the edge of another mind-blowing orgasm. "Only yours."

That was all the permission Nanami needed. His thrusts became brutal, the thick length of his cock bottoming out with every punishing stroke. Your entire body quaked, muscles tightening around him.

Then his hand snaked between you, his calloused fingertips finding your swollen clit. That was all it took to send you spiraling over the edge.

You cried out his name, nails raking his broad back as the orgasm ripped through you. Nanami followed shortly after, his teeth sinking into the side of your neck in a savage bite. The sensation sent another wave of blissful tremors shuddering through your system.

You sagged in his arms, utterly boneless as Nanami supported your weight. He was panting heavily, his broad chest pressed against yours as you both came down from the high. You couldn't help the giddy, satisfied smile that curled across your lips.

You tilted your head, meeting his heavy-lidded gaze. "Kento, was that your way of showing me a preview of what's to come?"

His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile softening his sharp features. "That depends...did you enjoy yourself?"

"Oh, immensely," you murmured, leaning in until your lips were a breath away from his. "But I have a feeling I'll enjoy round two even more."

The low, feral sound Nanami made was all the answer you needed.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento x reader smut #nanami x reader smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader

655 notes · View notes

hana-no-seiiki · 10 months

Text

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐒 + 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐱 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 (𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈)

tw/cw: this act alludes more to reader being amab (because breeder reader era wont be ending anytime soon) so beware. off-screen seggs. worldbuilding and lore stuff. yandere themes, mentions of forced prostitution. misandry.

status: unedited

[ ACT I ] • [ ACT III ]

MOTHERS HELD A HIGH SOCIAL RANK IN YOUR SOCIETY. They were the bearers of children; held with a status akin to gods. As such, those who were able to give birth were favorable.

Not a womb-less being like you.

You spent a couple decades or so in denial. Hoping that one day you’ll be accepted. That maybe society itself would change and you’d have a place in the world.

Only for reality to ruthlessly slap you in the face.

“[Y/N].”

Your mother’s voice, no matter the content of her speech, always made your heart rate soar. Cold sweat appeared on your palms and forehead, but before it could even be discerned on your form your hands make a swift movement to dry yourself. Your could feel your shakiness intensify as she drew closer.

“Yes, mother?” You greeted back. You cursed inwardly as your words came out hoarse; without its usual confidence. You could already hear her admonish you.

How could you be anything less than perfect? After all you were already born a failure. Might as well make up for it by being the best.

Throughout the decades of your parent’s unfavorable treatment, you had gain a semblance of self-esteem. At least enough to give them cheek at times. Although your subconscious always reminded you of what they were capable of if you weren’t engaged.

Your teenage self could never imagine talking back to them. With that, in spite of the unwarranted attention you were somewhat happy with the circumstances you were given.

“You went to the countryside, again.” Her arms crossed over her chest, and tar colored blouse. She always wore black clothes and a solemn look wherever she went, intimidating many that dared to gaze at her direction. Her graying hair was tied into a tight bun. Pointed, cat like eyes behind thick glasses. But she was beautiful. Annoyingly so. The very reason why so many fell at your feet.

“I am here now.”

“Her Highness was looking all over for you.”

“That’s the point. I was hiding from that witch.” You crossed your arms. You did not like that woman at all. You remembered repeatedly enforcing your boundaries and personal space to which she repeatedly broke down and disrespected.

“[Y/N]! Stop being such a brat. Act your age for once. This is a golden opportunity. For you and our whole family!”

“Selling my body wasn’t enough? Your greed really knows no bounds.”

You shut your mouth immediately. You’ve gotten too far, if her heels clacking on the ground wasn’t already an obvious indication her thin, banshee like screech should be.

You expected a slap, maybe even her pulling your hair out once again, perhaps her nails would tear into your skin once more leaving a scar that would make at least some of your clients change their mind. However before she could even get close enough to touch you, her husband pulled her away.

“Estella . . . if you hurt them, her highness might . . .” He held her back.

You used to think you loved him way back then. When he’d halt your mother’s actions and take care of you after you’d been used. But then you realized that he only saw you as an object he could benefit from as well. Once the princess asked for your hand in marriage he was ecstatic. Waxing on and on about how happy it’d make him if you went with her, even allowing her to defile you in your own bedroom at times. The only reason he didn’t actively hurt you was because your mother’s ego was so fragile that she’d take him getting physical as a sign of defiance and ill will.

Swarms of hatred encircled your heart. To think you were so blind and hungry for an ounce of their affection only a year ago.

Hours passed before your tears showed signs of stopping its flow. You hoped the streetslights that barely gave vision at least hid you from prying eyes.

“Witch, huh?”

A voice tore you away from your moment of sadness. In fear of anyone else seeing you in this state you hurry to fix yourself as you heard heeled clicks grow louder.

“I should have known.” You turned your head to face the sounds’ source. Only to see the reason why so many tears of yours were wasted this day. “So, does this mean our engagement is off? Or shall I be executed for sullying your name?”

Third Princess Kalliope Mikiavella Levantine. If her name was a nightmare then her presence in your life was evermore.

She was your highest paying client. Ever insatiable. Ever spoiled by her mother the Empress. The only saving grace of this whole situation was that she was not the Crown Princess, yet. Otherwise you might have already been made an imperial concubine or consort.

“Unfortunately not.” She smiled, a little solemn in a way to empathize with your situation, but nonetheless ruthless knowing her power. The princess was beautiful, her blazing red hair that curled immaculately lightly bounced in her steps towards you. Bright amber eyes that almost appeared like the dim streetlights.

“I am unclean. Impure. Why would you want someone like me?” You keep your eyes to your legs lest you fall for her beauty. You always looked somewhere else whenever you two slept together. Always in fear that you’ll grow to love your assaulter — captor.

“I . . . do not know. But everytime I hear you sing my heart feels at ease. I want you in my life, [Y/N]. For as long as I live.”

“Think of it this way, as my spouse you will be ruling over the entirety of this country. Every thing, every one, will be yours. Even those parents who sold you to me. And you’ll give that kid a bright future—“

“[Y/N] . . ?”

You do not think before your lips crashed upon hers.

“Athanaxious? Athanaxious! “

Vasileious searched high and low, in every corner of the ocean Athanaxious usually dwelled in. He even swam the shores, close to those wicked human hunters called fishermen to find him. But with no luck.

“Let him be, Vasilei. He’ll come back in due time.” Aurelius, the pair’s eldest brother, comforted him. Aurelius had a beautiful tail of pure gold, unlike the flecked one Vasileious and Athanaxious owned. His hair was a beautiful, long and curly brown with a lock of blond that made it all the more stunning. His tan skin glimmered akin to the surface waters at day, and almost glowed at night.

“Say that when you get scolded by Mother. I dare you.” Vasileious spat, nerves fried from stress. He would have never interacted or approached a human if it weren’t for his stupid younger brother. But now he’d seen several. Do you know how horrid that experience would be for him? It was downright terrible.

Aurelius, ever the only serene one in the family, massaged the small of his brother’s pale back, “You seem on edge. More so than usual.”

“Athanaxious was meeting with a human, Aurelius. A human!”

“Huh, so you finally found out.”

“You knew of it?!”

“All of us did.” Aurelius shrugged, slightly curling his tail as a gesture of ease. “Oh come on, we all know how much of a snitch you are. Besides, Athanei can’t be dissuaded. Telling him not to do something will only make him want to do it more.”

“He used his siren song on them.”

“No way! How did he sound?”

“. . . It sounded — “ Vasileious ashamedly could only remember your own voice that day, unable to give a proper remark he gave a simple, vague response. “alright.”

“How utterly anticlimactic. Although you saying something aside from terrible means it must be good.”

“Make of it what you will.”

“Irenaeus!”

Another merman appeared. Younger than Aurelius but his beauty unlike any of the other brothers. His tail a beautiful ivory color that slowly transitioned to grey and blacks at the tip. Long dark hair and golden eyes. Irenaeus was known to have the biggest body count of all siblings — bringing thousands of humans to their doom. If it weren’t for his carefree attitude and the god he was named after, one would think he loathed humans more than Vasileious himself. “The human Athan was meeting . . .”

“What about them?”

“Apparently they are to be married off to a human princess. Sailors across the ocean have been speaking of it so. And. . . well . . . “

“Spit it out.”

Irenaeus looked left and right, his tail flicking in an anxious manner, “I believe Athanaxious might be meeting with the Sea Witch shortly.”

“What? You didn’t stop him?!” Vasileious screeched. The ocean floor that surrounded them tremors in his cries, large waves rippling, barreling towards land. His two brothers flinched in pain.

“Less time scolding more time on looking for our brother.” Aurelius broke him out of his moment of panic. “Irenei, inform the rest of our family. Vasilei, let us depart.”

Deep within the Abyss of the ocean, Athanaxious found himself swarmed with feverish determination and anger. The pressure of the waters always felt suffocating but now? It was nothing to the looming dread that drowned his heart.

He reaches his destination before his mind could properly think. He thought long ago that the last time he’d come would be that, the last. But here he was again, far more desperate than he was afraid.

“Be welcome, Than.” The low, gravelly voice of the sea devil danced across the murky waters.

“You must know of the happenings on land.”

He comes out of his hiding, long winding tentacles slither across the walls covered with barnacles and seaweed, as He moved towards Athanaxious, “Mm, I’m afraid not. Please enlighten me.”

“Tch. My human. They’re going to marry some rich lady up north. This cannot happen.”

“You want me to help you ruin a wedding?”

“You know the drill. A price for a boon. This will be quite expensi—“

“I offer you my voice.”

The Sea Witch found themself speechless for moments on end. For a siren to sell their voice would be akin to dooming themself to a lonely, wretched existence. Unable to lure their prey or be of any ‘worth’ in their society. They were aware of Athanaxious’ infatuation over you. Just not self-sacrificing extent of it. “…And in exchange for your precious voice I offer you a new identity as a human.”

“Beware, as every step you take will feel like daggers going through your feet. You will however, be the most graceful dancer upon the land. A perfect fit for our little singer.” An apparition appears between the Devil’s fingertips as it flicked across the waters. It was you, on a platform of sorts surrounded by other humans. You were bringing joy to their faces, as you did with him. “Shall I add a wager to spice up the fun?”

It took a lot of willpower for Athanaxious to rip his eyes away from your ‘magical form’ and all he could muster was a nod.

“Should you succeed your voice shall return, and you wouldn’t have to keep giving me your scales to brew love potions. Their heart will be yours forever more, guaranteed by both their feelings in your triumph and my very own magic.” The apparition shifted; Athanaxious appears within the image — human. The two of you looked joyful as you embraced underneath what seemed to be the moon.

But then it all lasts for a second before it shifted once more. The vision of your happy ending swiftly turned bitter as this apparition’s Athanaxious slowly dissolved and disappeared, before you turn to someone else and embrace them instead.

“If you fail to win their affection before the wedding, I will keep your voice and you shall turn into sea foam.”

Athanaxious felt his stomach grow weak at the illusion’s show. Moreso the possibility of your romance with someone else than his death. He only had one choice.

“I understand. I accept both the deal and the wager.”

“Oh, how magnificent! I hope you don’t go on to regret this.” The Sea Devil lips tugged upwards.

“Now, sing for me.”

“Where will you be going?” Kalliope tugged at your sleeves.

“Out. I’ll be back before sundown.” You gently pulled your arm away from your admirer, as you buttoned your clothes and put on a pair of trousers.

“But—“

“My seed must take root for our marriage to be guaranteed, no? Keep your hips raised.”

“Can we go for another bout before you leave?”

You loop your finger around a lock of her hair, lending her a final kiss to the forehead. “No.”

Your town was not one to write about in history books. It was like any other the Empress was able to conquer under her rule. A quaint village just west of the capital city known for their great alcohol and folks to bed.

In such a small population, everyone knew you and you knew everyone. People even knew of your clients, every single one in fact. They weren’t surprised to see you in much more extravagant or expensive clothing as you passed by the street in an equally gaudy carriage.

It was moreso the armored guards that surrounded you that alerted them of something different.

“[Y/N]!”

Clearly that wasn’t enough to deter your childhood friend from running towards you.

“First you impregnate my sister and leave her all alone to take care of your mistake, now you go and get married without a word to us! Do you even care at all?!” The young man wore overalls. Soot covered his skin from what you assume was the mines he started recently working in.

Yiorgos used to be a lot kinder. Softer. Almost puppy like with his admiration towards you. But after a series of misunderstandings he grew resentful of your existence. You never bothered to correct him.

Or perhaps you were just too busy and hurt by his assumptions.

“Out of their highness’s way.” A guard put their arm between you and your former friend.

“Their . . . highness ?” Yiorgos looked at you, baffled. His hung wide open. He then leaned forward to no doubt shout at you once more before you finally put a word in.

“No, I know him.” You shook your head at the guard. Your focus left the man as soon as a familiar mop of [hair color] entered your vision.

A small girl dressed in clothing akin to your own, left Yiorgos’s side and ran up to you with no regard to the armored knight that loomed over. Excitement clear in her eyes. “Don’t listen to your uncle, you aren’t a mistake alright? Go on in, I’ll be with you.” You gently pushed her towards the siblings’ house. The girl shook her head, unwilling to let go of you. But her grip slowly loosened and she eventually shied away, leaving you and the rest.

“Your sister paid me to sleep with her and insisted not to use protection, we both know I pay for that night every single day since it happened both reputation wise and monetarily. And lastly, as you can see I had no choice.” You tilt you head to the small army of knights made to watch over you and your carriage.

Yiorgos shook his head. Brown hair swaying side to side. “You always have a choice.”

“And my choices are life and death. Don’t bother arguing about my situation!”

“Here’s my last payment and goodbye. I’ll be taking the kid with me to the castle soon.” You throw him a bag filled with gold coins and then proceeded to make your leave.

If there was anything you were proud of in your town however, it would be the opera house you worked at. Thousands of people all throughout the world often came here to watch your shows amongst the other singers and performers.

Due to its popularity it was even funded by the Empress directly. That is how you met the princess.

“[Y/N]! I’ve heard the news. Congratulations.” Your employer, Lady Anastasia — a noble woman —, runs her hand in your hair. She used to be a regular person your mother sold you off to until she eventually hired you as a singer at her Opera House. Of course, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t pay you a little extra for your services after hours.

“What’s with the fuss?” You gestured to the boy servants fussing over a young man. Who seemed a little too familiar, nostalgic maybe. You couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

“Oh, we found a young man out on the beach you frequented. We thought it was you at first but upon closer inspection . . .”

“He’s a mute that one. Ain’t no further thing from our theater’s star.” Her Father, a rather old and gruff man, huffed. He was always so prideful of you. Despite his rough demeanor, you knew that he cared deeply. After Anastasia would bed you, he always came by to give you a cup of tea. You didn’t know how to repay the man except use your body, so he’s had a taste of you as well.

In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve bedded half of your town and then some.

“Will you keep your scathing remarks to yourself?” Anastasia lightly slapped him, “He is incredibly talented on the art of dance, light on his feet.”

“And weak on constitution. He barely finished a piece before falling to his knees and panting!”

“I’ll take care of him.” You put a hand to your chin. The man gave you a weird feeling in your stomach. Something tells you that the fates have your threads intertwined.

“Are you sure? With all these wedding preparations. . .” The old man grabbed your shoulders, making you flinch.

You unknowingly glared at him.

“Ah, sorry to be so presumptuous.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

You coughed, unsure how to or if you should even apologize. You decide on focusing at the task at hand. A final show before you’re eternally doomed to the Imperial Palace.

“Well then, why is nobody ready?”

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

#yandere #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere original character #yandere oc #yandere story #yandere scenario #yandere siren #yandere royal #fem yandere #gn reader #yandere x you #yandere x reader #fem yandere x reader #yandere harem #yandere various

489 notes · View notes

depravitycentral · 10 months

Text

Daichi Sawamura Yandere NSFW Profile

Yandere! Daichi Sawamura x fem! reader

TW: dub/noncon, kidnapping, masturbation, voyeurism, groping, cum eating (literally and in a kinky way), Daichi is icky and you should never eat any food he provides for you, roleplaying, begging, breeding, Daddy kink, mentions of pregnancy, brief mentions of lactation kink, mild undertones of misogyny, obviously this is post-timeskip Daichi, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 10.0K

HABITS:

Before you walked into Daichi’s life, he wasn’t an avid fan of touching himself. He had no problems with sex – it was normal, natural, and he was most certainly no stranger to the incessant pull of hormones, to the intensity of late night bouts of horniness.

And yet, he’d never really been one to get himself off obsessively, to wrap his fingers around his aching cock and jerk away until a stuttered grunt and sharp exhale of breath tumble past his lips as ropes of white splatter against his chest every night.

Sure, he had stress from his everyday life; stress from his job, his friends, his parents, everything – and he’ll admit that his hand, some lube, and a rather explicit video certainly helped make the stress go away, if only for a bit. He wasn’t necessarily unpopular with women before meeting you, but he’d never really held much of an admiration towards any particular girl for any longer than a week or two, anything deeper than a fleeting attraction that eventually died down and turned to something more platonic.

His feelings are guarded, and it most certainly did not feel right to be fucking his fist to the thought of some girl who he’d never spoken more than fifty words to. Past girlfriends have helped curb his libido a bit, offering him a better alternative than his hand, but Daichi has never felt that enthralled by touching himself and others.

However, once you step into his world, suddenly Daichi’s entire outlook on sex and masturbation changes drastically. He prides himself on being a man of restraint, of respecting the boundaries of others, but where you’re concerned?

Well, is it respectful of him to be daydreaming about bouncing you up and down on his cock, hearing you cry out his name and watching your pretty tits bounce along with you?

Is it disrespectful to think of the way your ass would jiggle as he spanks you, how your voice would sound so airy and breathless when you call out five – oh! Five, Daddy!

Is it crude of him to imagine the way you’d choke and gag as you pull off of his cock, a string of saliva connected to your puffy lips to his swollen tip, cum smeared all along your cheeks as you beg him to let you give him just one more, wanna make you feel good one more time, please!

He’s normally not especially sexually driven, but it’s almost like a switch gets flipped once Daichi realizes how fucking in love he is with you – mind, soul and, of course, body.Lonely nights spent thinking of you and your perfect figure that Daichi desperately wants to touch become more and more frequent, more and more urgent because when he’s laying underneath his covers, his body growing hot as he thinks about what could be hiding under your clothes, how can he not vividly begin imagining the gentle curve of your ass, the plush of your thighs and the wonderful, sweet treat laying between them?

How can he not fantasize about tasting your slick, dipping his tongue between your folds and feeling your fingers tug at his hair while your pretty whines fill his ears?

Because of his stance on getting busy with himself being a time for imagination of someone, Daichi is actually quite touch starved, and once he has his hand wrapped around his achingly hard cock with you in mind for the first time, he starts to question why he didn’t start doing this much sooner.

When it comes to touching himself, he has a pretty set in stone method for how to best get himself off, for how to make the experience the best that he can.

(Everything he can do to himself is subpar in comparison to you, though – just the thought of what your soft fingers could do, your warm mouth, your soaking pussy, your bouncy tits, your pert little asshole is enough to get him groaning and wishing you were with him.)

Daichi has a pattern established on how he touches himself, and he rarely strays from it. It works very well, and it allows his mind to run wild with fantasies of you. Daichi is a dom through and through, and every fantasy he harbors between the two of you (and there are many to choose from) involves him in the more dominant position - him above you, thrusting into you as deeply and sensually as he can, whispering in your ear how good you are for taking his cock so well.

Him sitting up in bed, your legs straddled around him and your fingers splayed over his chest while he moves you up and down, growling out your name and sucking hickies into your neck, occasionally coming up to smack and grab at your ass. He’ll even grab you firmly and thrust up into you from time to time, the abrupt change of pace and force making you cry out and collapse forward, pressing your chest into his face while he sucks at a nipple and growls under his breath.

His obsession with caring and watching over you that plagues his everyday interactions with you translates into the bedroom too - every sexual urge and desire he has about you is really about taking care of you and your needs. He’s the ultimate pleaser, in all honesty, though he does his fair share of teasing at times.

Of course though, he has a few selfish fantasies (namely, he’d love for you to give him head, to be on your knees, sucking and drooling all over his cock while he runs his fingers through your hair, grunting out praise for you and thrusting into that tight throat of yours) that he indulges in once in a while, but generally when he’s alone with just his fist as a poor stand in for your warm, tight, dripping cunt, he focuses on mainly the idea of pleasing and fucking you.

And while he doesn’t ever want to admit it, Daichi has a bit of a dirty secret when it comes to how he masturbates – he’s very much the standard fist fucker, jerking himself off until he’s nearly numb, until he’s panting and his cock is left bright red and swollen, aching for more but too sensitive to endure anything else.

He doesn’t do anything too risqué when he’s jerking his wrist up and down, flicking it slightly as he nears the tip and occasionally letting his thumb glide over his slit, making his hips jerk. He’s not too crazy in that regard, but the small glass jar he pulls out from under his bed and sets on his bedside table is anything but normal. Its half filled with white, sticky semi-liquid, a light film covering the entirety of the jar, looking sinister and kept safe and out of harm’s way so as not to spill a single drop.

When he’s in the mood, his cock already flushed and desperate for contact (which is after nearly every interaction with you, no matter how small or innocent), he’ll just gulp and bite his lip, retreating away to his bedroom with excitement building in his gut. He’ll start by locking the door and dimming the lights, before heading over to his bed and stripping down to nothing.

He’ll twist the lid of the jar off, the potent smell enveloping his senses and leaving him to wonder how you’d react to the aroma, whether you’d be flustered and shyly look away, or whether you’d grab the jar and bring it up to your nose, deeply inhaling and letting your eyes roll to the back of your head, moaning something about how he smells so good, how you want to taste him, how you need him.

Setting the jar back on the table, he’ll sit on his mattress so that he’s leaning back on his knees, his entire chest upright and exposed as his cock slaps up against the skin of his lower stomach, red and drooling precum and absolutely begging for attention.

He’ll run a hand along his chest, scratching lightly at the hard muscles and reaching down to his dark pubic hair, a low groan escaping his throat as he closes his eyes and imagines it’s your wandering hands, so much smaller and softer than his own.

He’ll imagine you laying down before him, spread out and looking so welcoming and ravishing, your hair all wild and your eyes wide with desire, lips already swollen from kissing and dark marks sucked into your neck claiming you as his his his. His cock bobs at just the thought, a thick glob of precum oozing from the tip.

He’ll start slowly, ghosting a hand over his raging erection, feeling how he twitches slightly at the airy contact. He runs his fingertips over the prominent vein on his left side, feeling the way it stands out against the smooth skin of his length, the touch making his toes curl and his thighs twitch.

Sometimes he’ll imagine your soft, perfect lips wrapped around his length, sucking and swirling your tongue around his sensitive head while his fingers are buried in your hair.

Other times, he’ll imagine you under him, looking up at him with those wonderful eyes clouded in lust and ecstasy as he absolutely destroys that precious little pussy of yours, pounding into you so hard that you’re fisting the sheets and crying out for dear life because fuck he’s hitting so deep, and you’re going to come much too soon.

The only sound filling the room while his fist works at his length is the dull thump of his pelvis, along with ragged breathes and little growls of your name and fuck yes, good girl, god just like that, fuck baby how’re you so damn tight mixed with incoherent little gasps of mine as he nears his high.

His pace starts to speed up too as he gets closer and closer to his release, grunts escaping him while he chants your name under his breath, until eventually his hips are bucking over and over into the air, desperate to be thrusting as deeply inside you as possible, and his orgasm tears through him with a low, throaty grunt.

Quickly he’s scrambling to grab onto the jar, knocking things over in his haste as he groans loudly, chanting your name and going on about how you’re so good, so fucking good, fuck wanna – wanna fuck you so bad – take it take it take it – !

His eyes squeeze shut as thick ropes of cum shoot from his red, engorged tip and directly into the open jar, the spurts blending in with the other older, thicker loads stored in the container, and he’ll lowly growl your name, imagining praising you for taking his cock so well and how you’re such a good girl for taking every last drop of his cum while he empties his balls inside the container, keeping his hand lightly pumping to make sure he gets every last drop out. He’ll even grip the base and shake himself a bit to make sure everything he has to offer comes out, drooling from the swollen slit and dripping in big fat drops into the jar.

It takes him a few minutes to recover, and once he does, he’ll smile crookedly down at the glass, bringing it up to nis nose to lightly sniff, the image of your face when you bite into the little snacks he makes you flashing through his mind.

You’re so cute when you’re munching on the little mini bite sized sandwiches he brings you every week during your lunch break, your adorably clueless self never wondering why there seems to be so much mayonnaise, why there’s always a slightly bitter, salty undertaste.

But Daichi doesn’t mind – it’s worth it to see you lick your fingers clean, his mouth going dry at the thought of you licking his cock clean in the same manner, and as he shuts the jar lid and carefully places it back under his bed, knowing he’ll likely have it filled the other half way by the weekend with the sheer amount of cum he produces and the frequency with which he collects it.

And as he leans back against his pillows, he’ll be more lonely than ever, because all he wants in that moment is your warm, beautiful body to be there with him, cuddling into his naked chest and telling him how much you love him.

All he wants is your soft, sticky body clutching onto his, your face nuzzling into his chest and the mixture of his cum and your slick dripping down your thighs and onto him to lull him to sleep. You’re so perfect, and as Daichi slips into a land of dreams filled with your face, he can only hope the day soon comes when his imagination becomes reality.

FAVORITE BODY PART:

Your thighs

He can’t quite explain it, but there’s just something about the expanse of your thighs that gets him gulping, having to adjust both the collar of his shirt and the waistband of his trousers. Size is completely irrelevant to him; you could have the leanest thighs with hardly any fat, the most muscular legs he’s ever seen, or a lovely plush to them that jiggles with your every move, and he’d still be completely, whole-heartedly in love.

There’s just something about the smooth expanses of skin that really get Daichi hot under the collar - maybe it’s the fact that they look so soft and squishy, like he could just reach out and grab a handful, get you flustered and squeaking in surprise as he massages the soft flesh under his palm.

Maybe it’s the way they splay out when you sit down, looking perfect, so fucking tempting, like they could suffocate him so easily and fuck, now he’s hard and staring at your thighs from across the room and god, where’s the nearest bathroom with fairly soundproof walls?

Or maybe it’s because he just knows that there’s a wonderful, sweet surprise waiting in the middle of them, ready for him to love and touch and taste and god, he’s never wanted to fuck something so bad, never wanted to shove his cock into something so much, to fill to fucking brim with his cum and make a completely fucking mess of something as badly as he does your luscious fucking thighs –

Regardless, he’s completely in love with the supple flesh; he wants nothing more than to run his hands up and down them, take a handful and squeeze, nibble until a nice, possessive hickey taints the delicate skin. He wants to touch you so badly, to get the opportunity to love and worship every inch of the supple flesh, to show you just how beautiful you are, how much he loves and appreciates your body.

Each time the thought of them flashes through his mind (something that happens very frequently), he’s practically drooling, his mouth watering and saliva pooling up in his cheeks at just the thought of getting to touch them, of getting to knead your soft skin and hear the way you sigh out in pleasure, of sucking dark hickeys into the delicate skin of your inner thighs, of getting to push them together and fuck the space between them.

It’s honestly pretty bad how quickly and easily your thighs can arouse him - when he sees you wearing anything shorter than full length pants, he has to will his eyes away for fear that he’ll grow hard right then and there, his face flushing red and his throat growing dry.

It’s all too easy to imagine those thighs hooked up over his shoulders, bending your body in half while he pounds into you again and again and again until you’re incoherently crying out, fingernails scratching down his back while he hisses and grunts and pounds into you deeply enough to imprint the shape of his cock onto every part of you.

And once he’s stolen you away, Daichi’s obsession really begins to show – constantly touching you, always groping you and resting a hand against them (preferably between them when you cuddle or watch TV, because the heat alone is enough to have his eyes fluttering closed, a sharp inhale sounding while he shifts around below you) always eyeing them from the corner of his gaze, always forcing you to throw a leg over him when he’s cuddling you in the much too large bed Daichi bought for the two of you.

(He’d purposefully bought such a large size, if only because he wants to have all the room in the world to spread you out as he sees fit, to get you open and exposed and vulnerable to his probing stare, his wandering fingers, his eager mouth.)

If he could, he’d have a hand on your thigh at all times of the day, regardless of who you’re with, where you are and what you’re doing - he just can’t control himself.

His chest

While he isn’t overly buff, he’s put in his fair share of physical care and generally keeps himself in pretty good shape not only for his job, but for his own health as well.

He most definitely has muscle, and his upper body is actually quite defined – pectorals that physically stand out, a pair of pebbled, sensitive nipples, planes of light abs that flex and harden under your curious fingertips. He works hard during required workout sessions for the force, and although he isn’t the most purely athletic on the force, he does regularly visit the gym and lift.

And once you walk into his life, suddenly Daichi has someone to impress, someone to imagine gushing over his muscles and trailing their fingers over him in awe. And really, you’re by far the best motivation he could ever ask for; he wants you to be impressed, to be in awe at his body and the muscles lining his form, if only to prove that he can provide for you, that he can protect you and take care of you like he should, like you deserve.

And that’s what running through his mind as he pushes the bench press above his head, as he grits his teeth and pushes himself just a bit further, just a bit harder, because imagining the look of awe and attraction in your eyes the first time he’s shirtless around you is enough to have him eagerly upping his regiments, wanting to resemble to cover models for the men’s activewear magazines he sees around.

He has a lot of fantasies that involve his chest where you’re concerned – he wants you pressed up against him, your warm, soft and supple body flush against the hard lines of muscle.

He wants to feel your breasts pushed up against him, feel your hard nipples against his own, the swell of them against him as he pulls you closer, kisses you, hands grabbing fistfuls of your ass while he groans into your mouth.

He wants to hover above you and absolutely destroy that cute little pussy of yours, to leave you sobbing and writhing around below him in pleasure with your hands firmly pushing against his chest, arms too weak to even remotely put up a fight as he just keeps going, as his cock drives into you again and again and again.

The ideas make his head spin, his throat feel dry with want and his fingers idly clenching into fists, the desperation to have your admiration and awe pointed at him so potent that it’s nearly painful.

And once you’re trapped in his home, Daichi tries to speed up the inevitable by simply forgoing any type of shirt in the presence of you – his muscles are on display, abs tightening and flexing when he reaches up to get something off the top shelf, clenching his core tightly when he forces you to sit on his lap while he feeds you dinner.

Having a strong, masculine chest only furthers his idea of him being your strong, brave protector in his mind, and you being his sweet little darling, the one who is so delicate and in such desperate need of saving.

Daichi is proud of his physique, and while he tries not to let it show, the first time he’s half naked around you the desperation to get your approval is practically palpable – so really, just run your hand from nipple to nipple, trace the hard lines of his abs, the deep v right above the hem of his pants, and whisper a sultry voice, you’re so handsome, Daddy, and Daichi will nearly come right then and there.

He just wants your approval, so badly that it nearly suffocates him.

DRIVE:

Before meeting you, his sex drive was low – occasionally getting himself off, though often finding himself too busy to really indulge in even a quick session with his wrist tugging and jerking on him while he grunts and groans.

It just wasn’t important to him, something that he didn’t have the time, energy or interest in investing in. He didn’t have anyone to think of or imagine, and while there were plenty of pretty women he got along with, he could never manage to form developed enough feelings to get to the stage of wanting to be with most of them in that way, of wanting to see them naked and touch them.

However, this does a complete 180 when his obsession with you forms - suddenly he’s wrapped up with all of these lewd ideas of you, all of these fantasies that make his face turn red and his entire body feel like it’s on fire.

Frequent wet dreams that leave him washing his sheets three or four times a week have him focusing on hazy imagery of you reaching down to spread the lips of your cunt for him, letting him see the shining wetness inside, the clenching hole he so desperately wants to fuck, the slick he wants to lap up every drop of.

Ideas of you on your knees, looking up at him through teary eyelashes while you gag and choke against his cock have him groaning and steadying himself against the wall, his knees quite literally going weak at the mere thought of you.

He’s horny for you at all times, and nothing can sate his desire for you and your body until you’re there in front of him, naked and getting your brains fucked out by your beloved. Getting himself off makes it more manageable, but he isn’t truly happy until his thick, aching cock is buried as deeply inside you as possible, where it truly belongs.

He wants to fuck you all the time, and with every innocent expression you give him when he’s with you and every time he sees that fucking skirt you love ride up just a tad, it gets harder and harder to deny himself of his urges.

With every little sound you make as you work on your work assignments, as you stand stirring something over the stove or settle into bed, the urge to pin you down and claim you as utterly and completely his (via stuffing you full of his cum and leaving so many hickeys on your neck that you’ll look like you were attacked by a wild animal, of course) becomes more intense. It becomes more difficult to hold back as his fingers dig into his palm, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration as he tries not to think about the way you’d sound begging for his cock, how you’d plea and cry out for him to fill me up, please please Daddy! I’ve been so good, want your cock, wanna be fucked stupid, please!

Daichi is a bit of a demon in waiting, and once you’re in his grasp, he’s throwing the idea of holding himself back out the window, because fuck it all if you don’t look like the sexiest thing he’s ever seen all dolled up in his t-shirt and the lacy pair of crotchless panties he’d forced you into that morning.

You’re gorgeous, and because of you his libido spikes to the point of him feeling overwhelmed by every little thing you do – but surely, you must want him just as badly as he needs you, right?

However, Daichi will not force anything sexual on you. He wants it to be consensual, for the both of you to enjoy it, and he can’t enjoy himself if you’re in tears and begging him to stop.

(Unless you’re begging because he’s made you come so many times that you can’t even think, something that crosses his mind often late at night, when there’s a flush high on his cheeks, his fist moving so quickly that he can’t hope to stop himself, not when the orgasm he’s so desperate for – that he pretends you’re desperate for - is so fucking close -)

His morals where you’re concerned are fairly skewed, but even Daichi, in his state of absolute obsession with you, knows that sex absolutely needs to be consensual, regardless of the fact that he could die happy if you’d just move those panties to the side and give him five minutes to do whatever he desires, five minutes of pure, unadulterated pleasure that could give him enough material in the spank bank for the rest of his lifetime.

So, he steals himself and tries to ignore it the best he can, but sometimes it gets to be too much, the yearning and desire at such a level that Daichi is helpless in the face of how his cock throbs, aching and practically begging him to get release, to bury himself as deeply inside your tight little pussy as he possibly can.

And anything can trigger this intense reaction, really – seeing you bite your lip while you contemplate whether it’s worth cuddling with him to get the warmth that the blanket he’s using has to give you is enough to have Daichi groaning, a rather noticeable bulge in the blanket right over his crotch making the decision for you.

When you idly hum a tune to a song you love, immediately Daichi’s wondering whether you’d like him to fuck you to that song, to let your cries and moans blend in with the singer’s voice, his own groans and grunts matching the bass perfectly.

He really doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but the pure lust you inspire within him, the desperate desire that your mere presence ignites in his heart isn’t always easy to ignore - he gets desperate, his body telling him to drop everything and come, and sometimes he can’t even make it to the bathroom.

Which leads to him jerking it right in front of you, his trousers zipped down to expose the thick, tan length as his hand mercilessly pumps up and down, up and down, again and again. It obviously makes you uncomfortable (because it always, always happens when you’re in the same room, when you were just doing something that gave him such intense mental imagery that he just couldn’t hold back the lust), but Daichi can’t bring himself to care.

He’ll shamelessly be grunting your name, not scared to praise fantasy-you while you stand a few feet away from him and watch with wide eyes as he steadily yanks at his intimidatingly thick member.

His eyes go from squeezing shut tightly and peeling open to stare you directly in the eye as he groans out fuuuck, shit baby so fucking tight – hngh, gonna – gonna make you come for Daddy, fuck, his fist squeezing his cock in an effort to mimic the way your own walls would milk him dry.

He comes faster knowing you’re watching, knowing that the presence he so desperately longs for is right next to him, that your soft skin and pretty lips are right fucking there, perfectly visible for his eyes and imagination to run wild.

He’ll grip himself tighter and tighter, telling you that you’re so damn tight baby, oh f-fuck, clenchin’ me too damn much while his head falls back, his eyes squeezed shut and his brows furrowed as the pleasure mounts and mounts and grows, everything feeling hot and heavy and ready to absolutely burst –

His cum is suddenly landing in long, thin white stripes across his chest as he heaves, his eyes fluttering open to stare at you as the last few spurts land against his tan skin, his fingers – trembling ever so slightly – give himself a few good shakes, just to make sure he gets absolutely everything out. And all the while he’ll just grin, the sight almost boyish as a breathless chuckle tumbles past his lips.

He wishes that could’ve been inside of you, that he could’ve stuffed your sweet little pussy full of his cum until you were begging for more, but he notices the way your thighs clench together, how your face is flushed from embarrassment but also arousal, and it makes him fucking smug.

He knows it’s only a matter of time until you cave and beg him to touch you, and Daichi can’t wait for that day. You better know what you’re getting yourself into because once he’s done with you your throat will be raw from screaming and you won’t be able to walk for a few days.

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Praise

During sex, Daichi is quite vocal – there’s a lot of noises, mostly grunts and groans, along with the occasional growl.

He’s cursing under his breath when you tighten up, the sensation of your walls clenching down at his length making his breath come out in harsh pants. when you let out a particularly sexy moan that goes directly to his cock, he’s gasping sharply and muttering your name, his words slurred slightly as he tries to veer himself away from his impeding orgasm.

He’s incoherent as he tips over the edge, ropes of cum staining your tummy, pussy, tits, face, anything and everything – his words don’t make sense (tangled moans of so good and ‘m coming and take it please please please -).

It’s never quiet in the bedroom with him between his words and the sounds of his balls clapping against your ass and chin, the lewd squelching noises ringing in his ears while he fucks you hard enough to see stars.

There’s all kinds of noise, and there’s almost always a constant stream of commentary coming from him as well. He can’t help himself; the sight of you below him, writhing in pleasure as he thrusts into you and rubs quick, tight circles along your clit is just too much for him to not say anything about.

You’re just so fucking cute when he’s got you split open on his cock, your breasts bouncing in every direction as his hips snap into yours so harshly you’re sure you’ll break, that he’ll tear you in two.

He is quite the dirty talker, and while most of it is short and possessive mutters of mine, Daichi isn’t afraid to express just what you’re making him feel. He’s grunting out that you’re mine, babygirl, this pussy fucking belongs to me as he sinks in inch by inch, slowly filling you and making your eyes squeeze shut as he just keeps going, his length never seeming to end even as his tip nudges against parts of you that you didn’t know existed.

He’s burying his face into your neck as he bends your knees against your heaving chest, the angle letting him hit deeper and harder, your walls milking him for every last drop of cum as he groans lowly that he’s gonna make you come, wanna make you squirt, fuck want you to make a mess for me, let go baby.

He’s running his hand through your hair and tilting his head back with closed eyes as his hips jerk up lightly, thrusting without his control as he nearly whines out about how that’s it, oh fuck baby, look so pretty sucking my cock, like you were made to choke on me ngh –

It really gets him off to see you respond to his words; when you clench around him as he’s telling you how good you’re being for him, how you’re such a good girl for Daddy, it only makes him want to go harder, deeper and faster until you’re spasming around his cock and milking him for absolutely everything he’s worth.

When he tells you that he’s so proud of you while you drool and gag all over his cock, Daichi loves to see your eyes light up, the way your thighs rub together as you move to suckle at his balls, your hand taking over and spreading his precum mixed with your saliva all over his twitching length.

When you make that fucking adorable little gasp as he tells you how he’ll never get pussy this good from anyone else, his heart melts and his desire to see you come undone because of him skyrockets.

He’ll call you his baby girl, tell you how good that pretty little mouth feels wrapped around his cock, or how tight your precious cunt feels around him as he ruts into you.

He’ll rant and rave about how good it feels when you come on his cock, your walls spasming and massaging at his length, triggering his own orgasm that fills you up with white until it’s leaking down the sides, spilling out of your messy little hole because it’s all just too much.

It’s always positive praise; he’s not a fan of degrading you, if only because he genuinely views you as perfection, as someone who deserves to be loved and cared for, not ridiculed and humiliated. It’s designed to subtly show how dominant he is (as if the bruising pace of his hips and the sheer power behind his fingers gripping onto your waist weren’t enough) and to show you how much he’s enjoying whatever it is that he’s doing to you.

Sex with him is never quiet; between your moans and his grunts and hissed words, and of course the slapping of skin against skin and the squelching of his cock stirring up your insides, the bedroom (or kitchen, or shower, or wherever else the two of you find yourself getting down and dirty) will be filled with the passionate sounds of your lovemaking.

And of course, the unmistakable sound of Daichi cursing and calling you his good little girl, his little angel.

Daddy kink

Daichi is dominant in bed. There’s very little chance of you ever convincing him to let you take control between the sheets, and while he may briefly entertain the notion as he lets you push him onto his back and climb on top of him, your moment of power won’t last long.

Soon, he’ll have his hands on your hips, a small smile on his flushed face as he guides your pelvis to grind against his own, dirty words falling from his lips as he commands you to touch your clit for me, wanna see you all gooey and wet for me.

In the bedroom he wants full control, to be the one calling the shots and deciding what goes on, how you get off and whether or not you’re being a good enough little girl to even get touched.

He wants to be the one deciding whether you come from his fingers or tongue – he’ll murmur into the skin of your thighs as he plants kisses leading from your knee to your folds that you’d better behave, wanna see you come on my cock tonight, not my tongue.

He wants to be one to control how many times you orgasm in a single night – he’s warning you that he wants at least four babygirl, and I want them loud; tell me you’re feeling good, and Daddy will keep letting you get there, okay?

It stems from his compulsive, obsessive need to protect you and care for you. He sees himself as your protector, your caregiver, and in order to fully care for you, he needs to make sure you’re getting what you need from sex. He honestly feels like he knows what’s best for you, that his decisions are really the correct ones, even if you don’t see the truth in them now.

He knows that the solution to your homesickness is to fuck you stupid on his cock. He knows that when you’re getting mouthy with him, shoving his girth into your throat until you’re gagging and tears prick the corner of your eyes is the only way you’ll learn some respect. He knows that when you’ve had a long day alone while he works on the force, you need a reminder of how much you mean to him, and what better way to show that than spend hours between your legs, your slick smeared from his chin to his cheeks?

He genuinely believes that he has your best interest at heart every moment, and when you’re such a crying, babbling mess as he impales you on his cock over and over, obviously you can’t make any decisions, let alone speak a coherent sentence, so it must be his responsibility then. You’re just too cockdrunk to know what you really need – so Daichi knows for you.

As a result, there is absolutely no chance that you’ll ever dominate him, no matter how badly you want to - he takes care of you outside and inside the bedroom, and he isn’t relinquishing control no matter how hard you beg.

Even if you get down on your knees and grasp at his pantleg, pleading with him to please let me peg you, please? I’ve been such a good girl lately, I’ll do anything you want if you’ll just let me!, he’s still not budging, just sighing and telling you to quite being such a brat.

Even if you perch yourself naked on his thigh, desperately rubbing your cunt against the knee of his pants, smearing your pretty slick all over the material, Daichi won’t let you tie him up and use him how you please, even though he’s hard as hell. He’s fairly lenient on a lot of other aspects of your captivity with him, but the second you ask if you can top him, if you can call the shots, Daichi can’t help but laugh because do you really think you could do it by yourself?

Do you really think you have the ability to control a man as strong and large as him? Don’t make him laugh.

He wants to showcase his dominance over you in every single way he possibly can when you’re both naked and sweating, and though he does a lot of this through raw physical maneuvering (grasping your hips and controlling the pace when you ride him, pushing your knees up to your ears when he folds you into a mating press, leaning forward so that his entire chest is flush with your back as he ruts into you from behind like a dog in heat) it doesn’t just stop there; you are required to call him Daddy in bed, regardless of whether you want to or not.

Something about the power that comes with it goes to his head; the complete and utter trust that you have in him in order to give yourself over to him like that, to hear you refer to him as such a power figure.

It makes him dizzy with pride, arousal and adoration, and he’s honestly in heaven each and every time you gasp out the name. When he slurps against your folds, tongue eagerly working at your clit, his eyes roll to the back of his skull when you grasp at the pillow under your head and whine out a Daddy, mm, oh just like that, please don’t stop!

When you moan it out while he sends a sharp slap to your ass as he pounds into you from behind, his thrusts only get harder, more aggressive, surely strong enough that you’ll have two large bruises on your ass the next day from where his hips smacked against your skin over and over.

Every time you whimper it as he doesn’t stop his ministrations against your engorged clit even after you’ve reached your high and told him you’re too sensitive, that you can’t Daddy, oh please it’s too much, he just growls and keeps going, the power going to his head because he knows you need one fucking more.

He loves the nickname so much, in fact, that he’ll start requesting you to refer to him as that outside of the bedroom as well – when you’re tired, he’ll only let you go to sleep if you ask him in a sweet voice whether he’ll tuck me in, please Daddy? You do it just how I like it.

To him this is, of course, code for you asking him to fuck the absolute shit out of you without actually having to say it, and most of the time it works – Daichi’s libido is extremely high when it comes to you.

But on the nights where he won’t give in until you swallow your pride and push your arms together in your front, squeezing your breasts together so that the outline of your nipples show while you whisper out a please Daddy, can’t sleep without your cum in my tummy, his pupils dilate and he gulps, quickly ushering you off the bedroom when you know you’ll spend the next two hours with your face buried into the mattress and your ass high in the air while he gropes your tits and fucks you like a man possessed.

He wants to give you the love and pleasure that you deserve, so just let your Daddy take care of you.

Roleplaying

While Daichi could never, ever get bored of fucking you, he likes to mix things up in the bedroom occasionally. His hard and fast rule of always being the one in charge never changes much, but he’s a proponent of roleplaying when the both of you are getting intimate.

Perhaps it’s the product of years of relatively secretly watching porn, or perhaps it’s all those horrible ‘sexy’ costumes he’s seen during Halloween. He’s not sure, but regardless, he’s very, very interested in playing out some common sexual tropes with you.

Of course, he’s more than willing to play the police officer that catches you in the midst of a very minor crime – a speeding ticket, where you’ve got to do him a favor to get out of the cost.

(Generally, a very, very messy, drooly blowjob does the trick; he wants spit dribbling down your chin and down his length, his balls coated in a sheen of it while you gag and choke, his groans of I suppose I can let you go this once making relief sink to your guts.)

His favorite cop fantasy is finding you committing public indecency – you’ll make up some cover story of how you lost your shirt and bra at a friend’s house and now you’re in the middle of the park, the world subject to seeing your pretty tits and tummy. Daichi will pretend to scold you, chiding you for being so reckless, but it’s hard to take him seriously when those brown eyes are staring at your chest the whole time, fixating on how they jiggle with every step you take, just practically begging to be touched and groped.

(He’ll tell you that he has to take you back to the station – the bedroom – and teach you some common decency; ironic, considering more clothes come off than on when this happens, but your face will be buried in the pillows as he pounds against your ass so hard you’re seeing stars and tearing up, so you can’t focus on that too much.)

He enjoys other roleplay dynamics as well; anything with a clear power imbalance.

He’ll be the CEO of an important company and you his sweet little assistant, delivering paperwork and reminding him about that big meeting he’s got later in the day.

(Soon your skirt shortly flipped up over your ass as he pounds you against his desk, the wood creaking with every thrust as he relieves the pent up stress he’s feeling because this is a very important business meeting he’s got.)

He’ll play your patient and you his nurse who’s oh so willing to do anything her patient needs to get healthy again, even if the doctor’s prescribed cure is as many orgasms as possible.

(He likes when you look over every single inch of him, especially if you have to undress him – he’ll be commenting on how lewd it all is as you peel off his shirt, but his breathing is noticeably heavier and his pants are noticeably tighter – not to mention damp.)

He’ll play the fireman saving you from a burning house, and you’re just so grateful for his heroics and courage that you must repay him somehow!

(And who would he be to turn down your offer of letting him blow his load right into that tight little cunt of yours – as repayment for his hard work, of course!)

He’ll be the professor and you a college student, your grades desperately needing raising as you slowly shimmy off your cardigan, revealing the extremely tight and cropped shirt you’re wearing, the white fabric letting him see everything from your waist and above.

(He’ll have you lean forward, looking at him with sultry eyes as you ask if there’s anything you could do, because you’ll do anything to preform better, sir, because I promise you once I start something, I don’t stop until I finish it.)

He’s game to try almost any scenario, and for the most part it all ends with roughly the same thing – he’s fucking you until you��re nearly sobbing from the overstimulation, his calloused hands running along your body as his labored breaths sound in your ears, his depraved moans in both the scene and of his own volition making your head spin.

He’s a sucker for nearly any kind of roleplay, and if you were to bring up a certain scene? Oh, well – Daichi will almost never say no, but you’d better be prepared to dive deeply into the context because he will be making you play your character.

It’s just so hot to him how your relationship suddenly becomes taboo in the blink of an eye, and yet despite all the compromising situations you pretend to play out, Daichi likes that you’ll start associating him with a character who’s life is inarguably intertwined with yours – after all, where would the multi-billion dollar CEO be without the tight piece of ass he keeps in his office just to service him when things get a bit stressful?

You’re more than that to him, but the effect is the same – he’d be nothing without you, and doesn’t that just make you feel so very special?

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Breeding

Diachi is very much a family man. He’s known from quite early on in his life that he eventually wants children, that he’d love to have a few sons running around shooting Nerf guns at one another, to have a few daughters running around playing tag and pretend.

It’s so heartwarming to him, to think of having his very own family, and once you wander into his life? Well, that desire for children and the parental gene that was semi dormant before suddenly become wildly active – Daichi so badly wants to knock you up, to fuck a baby into you that it becomes something he fixates on any time the two of you have sex.

He still fucks you with the goal of making you both feel good, but now he wants to make you feel good so that his seed will take, so that your tummy will be growing round with his baby.

Each time the two of you are in bed, his hands groping and wandering at every inch of your lovely body, Daichi is imagining the way you’ll look once you’re pregnant.

His fingers squeeze and press into the delicate skin of your breasts, imagining how they’ll swell up, your nipples darkening as milk weighs them down. He imagines how heavily they’ll be as he cups one in each hand, his lips closing around the buds as he suckles, mind filled with fantasies of how you’ll look with droplets of white leaking form your puffy, engorged nipples.

He presses down on your tummy as he fucks into you, marveling at the image of your belly so big you can barely walk, your frail body needing his support to do the simplest tasks, totally dependent on him as you carry what he gave you.

He’ll lick and suck at your clit and pussy, imagining how you’ll grow swollen and hypersensitive, your body having gone without his cock for far, far too long – he can only imagine how insatiable you’ll be after you recover from birth, practically forcing him to stuff you full of him him him.

He will be coming inside you every time, not letting you anywhere near birth control, not having a single condom laying around your shared home – no, it’s just his bare cock and your sweet, fertile and unprotected cunt, joined together and creating something wonderful.

Every time that he fucks you he has the trusty plug nearby, stopping you up once he pulls out to make sure that none of the creamy, sticky white stuffed between your legs leaks out.

He’s spending a few moments to caress your stomach as he tries to catch his breath, dark gaze mesmerized by the image of his cock stuffed into your cunt, almost talking himself into believing your tummy is already swollen from the cum he’d just filled you with.

Daichi will get you pregnant, whether you want him to or not, and once the news comes he couldn’t be happier – after all, you’ll make such a wonderful mother, your stomach round and full and your tits leaking with milk.

Breast Fixation

While your thighs are his favorite part of you (though he doesn’t really have a least favorite part of you – you’re his ideal woman after all), there’s something about your breasts that make Daichi absolutely swoon.

He’s never really identified as a tits man before, firmly preferring legs and thighs. Every bit of porn he’s ever watched he’s all but fast forwarded through the fondling portions, the zoom-ins of the woman’s breasts not doing a huge amount for him compared to way the camera captures the lovely curve of her calves and the plush of her thighs.

But the second that your soft, supple mounds are in front of him? Well, Daichi’s body is reacting before his mind can catch up, before he can realize that he’s reaching out and kneading at the soft flesh, callused hands rubbing and squeezing, a harsh moan tumbling from his lips because fuck you’re so soft, how is that even possible?

He’s reaching out to fondle you at the most random times; in the morning, when your sleeping body is spooning up against his own, he’s reaching around to carefully squeeze and lightly toy with your nipples, feeling the way the soft flesh slowly hardens, how you twitch in your sleep slightly at the minute pressure.

He’s reaching across the dinner table as you chew at your food, fingers giving a firm, purposeful squeeze before he sits back down, content to finish his chicken as he dreams about exactly how your tits will look tonight as he fucks you hard enough to make them bounce.

He’ll teasingly pinch at your nipples when he walks through the door from work, his officer uniform on as he grins and sees the outline of them through the incredibly tight shirt he’d had you put on this morning. And during sex, this doesn’t change; he’s rolling and pulling at your nipples, addicted to the way they pebble, how they slowly tighten up when he blows air onto them.

When his hands aren’t groping your thighs there’s a strong, strong chance that they’re instead present at your chest instead – idly fondling, making you squirm in place as he pushes his hips up against your ass, a murmur of do you feel what these pretty tits do to me babygirl? Can you feel how bad I wanna fuck them?

(And once you get pregnant? God, it’s game over for your chest – he’s fascinated by the way they swell up, how your nipples grow darker and areolas larger, how they’re heavier in his hands. And the second that you start lactating, Daichi is done for – you aren’t allowed to wear a shirt anymore, so that he can constantly be gazing upon your swollen belly and leaking tits, so that he can come by and squeeze one, watching a spurt of milk dribble down, rubbing it all along your skin. He likes nursing on you, muttering how you’ll be such a good mom, how his child is gonna be spoiled for life after getting to suck on tits this fine, this perfect and tasty.)

Really, he just loves your breasts, no matter the size, and Daichi has no shame showing his love – you’re perfect after all, so why should he ever be ashamed of recognizing that?

BIGGEST FANTASY:

While Daichi is completely swamped with explicit fantasies between the two of you, there’s most definitely a hierarchy in terms of what he deems the hottest, what’s most appealing to him, what he’s most desperate to try out with you.

(Of course, he’s not complaining about the onslaught of sexual thoughts he harbors for you – oh no, how could he? How could he possibly be upset when he’s waking up sweaty and panting from dreams starring you without any clothing on? How could he be upset when he’s spending nearly every night wringing himself dry to you, his cock swollen and sore and still aching for more, aching for you? The only downside is the cost of having to replace the bottle of lube he keeps on his nightstand – he goes through an entire bottle in roughly two weeks, spreading so much around his length just to try and replicate what he’s sure is your incredibly wet, warm pussy.)

He’s watched his fair share of porn over the years, and slept with a few different women. Consequently, he’s aware of most kinks and activities in the bedroom, and as a result he feels he has a grasp on all kinds of different things he could do to get you moaning and gasping, your nails raking down his back, your lips parting into that pretty ‘o’ shape when you come.

However, most of his favorite – most eager – fantasies are more conceptual than specific situations. He’s constantly fantasizing about knocking you up; stuffing you so full of his cum that you’re leaking down your thighs, your skin stained with the creamy white while you shake and shudder underneath him, looking so pretty and warm.

He’ll fantasize about making you squirt, your pretty thighs quaking as his fingers rub desperately over your clit, your cries making his cock so hard it hurts. He dreams about fucking you up against a wall, using every muscle in his body to hold you up while he destroys you with his length.

However, Daichi’s biggest fantasy is to hear you beg for him. Nothing gets him harder than hearing you say how badly you want him, how much you need him. Nothing is more appealing to him than having you verbalize how badly your body craves him, how you’ll never be truly happy and satisfied until he’s buried balls deep inside you, drooling pink tip nestled snugly against your cervix.

It’s the stuff of wet dreams – in fact, many, many nights Daichi has awoken an hour or so before his alarm, sweat dripping from his temples and the very obvious tent his cock is making in his bedsheets letting him know that the ringing please Daichi in his head is the culprit. It satisfies his protective and possessive side, knowing that he’s the one you’re craving pleasure from, that only he can give you what you want, what you deserve.

As soon as he imagines you saying please, oh god please he’s rock hard and desperately craving a release from your fingers, mouth, and pussy. He’s craving to hear the way your voice changes pitch as you get closer and closer, how your back arches up slightly and your grip grows more insistent against his biceps, your voice turning whinier and your words slurred and your pussy getting so goddamn tight -

The more he imagines you begging for him, for his cock, his cum, anything, the closer he gets, and it’s a sure fire way to obtain a shatteringly powerful orgasm for him. It just turns him on so much.

His lips press light kisses against your neck, tickling the sensitive skin and making you gasp slightly. His hands ghost against your bare sides, calloused fingertips marveling at your soft skin and making you shiver. He’s above you, hovering over you so that all you can really see is him – his shoulders, rounded with muscle, his jawline (sharp, with a hint of stubble lining the skin), his brown locks falling slightly into his half-lidded eyes, his mouth set into an expression that you can only describe as a mix between utter adoration and lust. It’s a bit overwhelming, and between the pounding in your lower body and the way his fully erect cock is resting against your thigh, you know you can’t just lay down and wait. You need him.

Now.

“P-please…” You whisper, eyes squeezed shut as you buck your hips, desperately trying to get some friction to calm the pounding of your lower body. Daichi chuckles, pressing one last kiss against the soft skin of your neck before sitting up. He stares down at you, taking in the messy state of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest, how your lips part just slightly. He smirks down at you, fingertip tracing your jaw as his mind focuses on how fucking perfect you look in this moment. Flustered, disheveled, desperate all for him – exactly how he likes you.

“Please what, baby girl?” He asks, voice low. You gulp and avert your eyes.

“Please, Daichi. T-touch me…” You whisper, still looking away from him. Daichi’s heart swells as his cock visibly twitches against your thigh - you’re just too adorable like this. So needy and horny all for him…

“Now now, princess. You know only good girls who look at Daddy when they beg get what they want.” The finger tracing your jawline moves down your neck, ghosting over your jugular before dipping down over your collarbone to trace around an areola. You shudder, opening your eyes and looking shyly up at him.

“Daddy, please. I need your big, thick cock.” Your voice is whiny, high pitched and so needy, just how Daichi likes it. His heart flutters at the praise; you know exactly what to say to get him aching for you, his primal instincts taking over and pushing him to just ravish you until you’re shaking and too weak to properly stand. And you can feel how it’s affected him; his cock twitching against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, only coaxing on your own desire to be filled, to get the pleasure your body is craving. His fingers close in on a nipple, watching as it hardens below his calloused fingertips.

“What does my baby girl want this cock to do, hm?” He asks, accompanying his words with a thrust against your thigh. You moan, shivering at the friction against your skin. Daichi smirks once more, pinching your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb. You whimper at the feeling, and as he lightly pulls and tugs, your eyes fly open, catching his brown gaze that’s boring into you so intensely that you’re sure he can see right into your soul.

“W-want Daddy to fuck me, please! I n-need Daddy’s cock inside me, want him to make me come so bad. Please, please!” You beg, your voice so clear and ringing out in the hot silence of the bedroom. Daichi pauses for a moment, his lips parting just slightly as he commits this moment to memory - you looking up at him in such desperation and desire, your arms tossed above your head, hair spread out and looking like a halo, and of course your naked, shivering body that’s just begging to be touched, loved, fucked. The next thing he knows, he’s lost complete control over himself, and he’s leaning down, capturing your lips in a heated, messy kiss.

When he pulls away for air a few moments later, he’s panting and practically buzzing with excitement and need. He leans down and licks the shell of your ear, and growls. In the low, gravelly tone you’ve learned to associate with a sore pussy for several days afterwards he groans, “Get ready baby girl, gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be screaming Daddy’s name all night.”

And with that, he pushes in, cursing sharply at the feeling of how you clench down on him as your startled moan rings through the air. He grunts; you’re so fucking warm and wet, and immediately his hips are snapping back, thrusting, creating a bruising pace that leaves you scratching at his back as you chant ‘yes, Daddy, yes’ under your voice over and over.

“A-ah, oh Daddy yes yes yes please ngh, oh more -!” You cry out, throwing your head back and clutching desperately at his shoulders, hearing him grunt from deep within his chest.

“More what babygirl? Tell – fuck, you’re so fucking tight – tell Daddy what more you want.” He growls, slowing his pace ever so slightly as you whine and buck your hips.

“Want Daddy to fuck me stupid, wanna be his silly little – little girl.” You’re desperate at this point, the stretch of his cock and painfully slow movement against your walls not giving you nearly enough stimulation.

Daichi smirks, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. “Yeah? Wanna be Daddy’s dumb little girl, all stuffed full of cock?”

You nod your head, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut as he slowly starts moving again, the slap of his balls against your ass making you cry out in pleasure and happiness.

“Fuck you’re so pretty, my pretty little baby, getting destroyed on Daddy’s fat cock, fuck –“ His words are nearly unintelligible, said mostly for his benefit, but it only makes you cry out louder, a few tears gathering in the corners of your eyes as the minutes pass by, the trace edges of your orgasm creeping up on you.

And Daichi can feel the way you slowly grow tighter, your moans changing in pitch and volume. He grunts, snapping his hips into you and asking you in a shaky voice, “Something the matter babygirl?”

You whimper, eyes peeling open to stare into the brown depths of his own. “Gonna – gonna come Daddy, please let me come, wanna come so bad!”

And when you’re looking at him with teary eyes, desperation written across your face as your walls clamp down on him hard enough to leave him breathless, how could he possibly deny you?

“Shit, yes – fuck, come for Daddy, cream all over this cock.”

And all Daichi can do is bury his face into your neck, and keep his hips pistoning into you as he reminds himself that this is finally real, that he’s finally getting to be with you and touch you, and when you clench down around him a good five minutes later, a moan of his name ripping from your throat as you come, Daichi thinks he must have found his heaven on Earth. After all, nothing else can explain the way your body makes him feel, the way you make him feel.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere daichi #yandere daichi sawamura #haikyuu smut #_daichi sawamura #_haikyuu #_lee's profiles #daichi smut

536 notes · View notes