Best Thing I‘ve Ever Read I‘m DYING

Silent Passions

Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader Tag List

Synopsis: You and Aemond had been promised to one another before you were even born. And when the time came for you to meet, all were curious to see what was to come when soon to be spouses only shared one thing in common: your want of silence. 

Warnings: Unwanted sexual advances from Daemon Targaryen, ¿Softer Aemond?, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 8,678 (bear with me pls)

A/N: Based on a request where they wanted "Aemond x Tyrell Reader (which has the personality of Francesca Bridgerton), and when they are about to get married, Daemon tries to seduce her, making Aemond distrust her."

A flower promised to a dragon. Long before you were born, you, a daughter of House Tyrell, had been the intended to be wed to the second son of the King, Prince Aemond Targaryen. Your mother was one of the scarce friends the Queen had made in the court after her estrangement with Princess Rhaenyra. You were born in the walls of the keep, the queen in attendance of your birth, smiling widely as the nurse announced that you were a girl— she was the first person to hold you after your mother and the wet nurse who handed you to her. “Oh, such a beauty she is…” The Queen cooed as she held you in her arms. Your mother smiled through her tiredness at how quickly the queen had taken to you. 

“She would make the most wonderful princess,” The queen sighed and returned you to your mother, turning her head towards the door where your promised groom already stood. Prince Aemond waddled to his mother. The boy was only two years old but was already meeting his intended. The queen took her son into her arms, lifting him up to see his future bride, who whined in her mother’s arms. Aemond furrowed his brows, stuck out his tongue, and made a noise of disapproval when he saw the pink-faced babe. “That’s not quite nice… show respect for your future wife,” The queen smiled and brushed the silvery locks of her son. 

That was the first and last time you and the prince met. Your mother and father returned to Highgarden as their stay in court was cut short with your father needing to return to his seat. For the first six and ten years of your life, you were promised to a man you have never met. Bearing the plight of women before you, promised to a man, not because of your will or your love for him but merely for status and to appease those who stood on high stature. You were defenseless as they paved your life before you, forcing you down a road that was often traveled by but many did not wish to cross. 

“We are to return to Kingslanding.” Your father suddenly announced. The dinner table went silent. The boisterous laughs and jests of your three older brothers and the babbles of your younger twin brother and sister growing hushed. “Why?” You asked quietly, breaking the silence. You pet the fur of your beloved feline, trying to calm your nerves as your mind brought forth a reason. “The queen requested our presence, dearest… it is time to meet your betrothed.” Your mother smiled and took hold of your hand, lightly squeezing it in comfort, thought you felt none. You lowered your gaze and tried to shut out the return of loud voices around the table. 

It was not that it was unexpected… it was just… wholly overwhelming. You took a few moments and a few more bites of your supper before excusing yourself from the loud table, needing peace and quiet. “Are you well, sister?” Your oldest brother, Edward, asked in concern, pausing his conversation with your other brothers, Edgar and Edmund. “Yes, I’m just tired.” You said with a small smile and left the dinner table with your pet. 

The matter of your betrothal with the prince was not at all an old matter. Ever since you were a child, they have instilled in your mind that you were Prince Aemond’s intended. That one day, you will be his bride. It was a subject you found troubling— for how can one live at ease, being promised to a man they had never met before? How could one truly live their life if their purpose is only to be married off— treated practically as a broodmare. 

 You were alone with your thoughts until you heard the faint knock on your door and your brother, Edmund, slowly opening it and peeking his head inside your chambers. “Yes?” You asked and sat straighter, removing your eyes from the fire you stared upon. 

“I am just making certain that you’re well.” He said softly and fully opened your chamber door, stepping in and bringing you a piece of cake for you had missed the dessert portion of your dinner. “Thank you,” You say gratefully, but simply place the piece of your favorite dessert on the table beside you, making your brother quickly grow suspicious. “What’s wrong?” Edmund asked in concern, taking his seat beside you. 

You gave him a forced smile and shook your head. “Nothing, I told you, I’m just tired.” You say softly, but your brother’s frown severed. “You’re clearly lying— no matter how tired you are, you always have energy for cake.” Your brother sighed, making you sigh as well. “I’m… I’m scared,” You admitted. Your brother nodded in understanding, “I would be surprised if you weren’t,” 

You twiddled with the ends of your hair as you and your brother were enveloped in a heavy, suffocating silence. “It’s just— I have been prepared for this since I was a babe… It’s all I know, but at the same time, I know nothing. I have no idea about him. What my life would be like after our marriage.” You say, your voice trembling with fear. “And I have been hearing rumors…” you say cautiously, your eyes upon your pet, who slept soundly on your lap.  “Rumors? You are never one to listen to rumors, "Your brother said in surprise; his sister was always indifferent to whispers and gossip. 

“Last summer, our cousin Eliza had gone to court… and there she observed Prince Aemond for me. To report to me what he was like because I had no idea of my future husband,” You began to recount the favor your cousin had done for you to ease your nerves about the marriage. “And?” Your brother leaned closer in curiosity. “She said he was… cold, aloof. Standoffish— ruthless when training with his sword. Indifferent, bordering into insulting to all members of the court.” You say quietly, uttering the harbored fear of your betrothed for almost a year now. Edmund licked his lips; your cousin Eliza was never one to exaggerate. 

“P—Perhaps it was just that summer… mayhap he has changed with the season,” Your brother tried to give a comforting smile, but it turned wary, neither of you believing his comforting but empty words. “I’m sorry, sister,” Your brother said quietly after a moment, looking at you with empathy. He also wondered how you would fare when married to a dragon prince and being a member of the den of vipers that was the court. 

You had always been timid, quiet, demure. He had always been skeptical of this betrothal set between you and the prince. He recalled how your father wanted to contest it, to break off the betrothal in your adolescence, seeing that his daughter was too soft for the harshness of royalty, but your mother did not wish for it, scared that it would offend her friend, the queen. 

“I don’t expect much from the marriage,” You spoke, “I… I only wish for him to be kind and perhaps grant me my solitude from time to time,” You added, and your brother nodded, “We shall see to it that you have it, sister. If we are to prove that the prince is ungallant or disagreeable, we shall convince Mother and Father to free you from him,” Your brother swore, and you gave him a sad smile, unconvinced by his promise but touched by the gesture of it. 

Edmund left his sister to the quiet she reveled and needed; Edmund marched in search of his other brothers. “She’s scared,” He announced as he found them in the drawing room; Edward, the eldest of them, lifted his gaze, “Who wouldn’t be?” He asked rhetorically as he sipped on his wine. “Are we truly that indebted to the crown? That we must oblige them with our dear sister?” Edgar questioned, “We are not indebted; our mother is,” Edgar replied. Your mother is forever grateful for her friend, the queen, who had shown her kindness during her time in court as a girl. She was greatly looked down upon, her father’s house inconsequential to the realm and often seen as a burden— through her friendship with Queen Alicent, she had risen through the ranks and had even secured a match with the heir of Highgarden. 

“Well, surely our sister is too great a price for this… emotional debt, especially when you consider the others who had wished to be her suitor, princes from Dorne and Essos who had sung her praises and showered her gifts for years. Yet they will force her to settle for a second son. She has not even met him! Not a letter or a token to show goodwill to his betrothed,” Edward sighed at his brother’s query. “What would you have us do?” Edgar asked, “I do not know… but if Prince Aemond is truly as harsh and tempestuous as Eliza and the realm says, we must convince them to break the betrothal.” Edmund was contented as his brothers agreed, all concerned for your marriage with a prince you had not even met yet. 

“Is all these frills truly necessary?” Aemond grumbled as he was being fitted for new garments, suffering through the needed preparations to meet his betrothed. “Yes. We cannot have you wear faded attire that reeks of dragon when you meet your betrothed. And I implore you to be kind and good-humored, Aemond. You must not scare off your wife,” Alicent sighed and nodded as the tailor bowed and finished taking the prince’s measurements. “She is not my wife,” Aemond gritted, “She is not your wife yet,” Alicent corrected, and Aemond shook his head. The dread in him was multiplying by the day. He was fortunate enough that his mother had not forced him to meet his betrothed years before, convincing himself that perhaps she had changed her mind and the betrothal could be broken, but alas, the fateful day to meet you has arrived. 

Aemond had not met you nor heard anything from you. He would think it common courtesy for you to send him at least a letter, to know him before this doomed marriage, but you had sent none— no introduction or anything. He did, however, hear talk about you, the bloomed beauty of the reach. A lady who was already betrothed the moment she was born but was still lined up by men who hoped to be her suitor. Aemond scoffed at the thought, perceiving you as promiscuous and maybe even defiled. Aemond met your cousin last summer, the lady Eliza, loud and not at all chaste. A shameless flirt who went around the castle and made a spectacle of herself, she was not you, but Aemond liked to believe that that is how you acted as well. 

Aemond tried to calm himself, to take his thoughts away from your arrival, but it would seem the castle was a growing reminder of you. He walked passed the great hall that was being dressed up for your family’s arrival. He passed the gardens where gardeners had been tending to flowers that were neglected, fretting that your family would take the wilted flowers as an offense. Aemond shook his head and walked through the guest wing, and saw how your chambers were being prepared. Aemond gritted his jaw and decided to retire early that day, but it would seem even the royal wing of the castle was being dressed up for your arrival. He frowned as he passed a once-boarded-up room being cleaned, “Who is to stay here?” Aemond asked a maid, believing his mother would place you in a chamber that was only a few steps from his own, a rather scandalous decision. 

“The prince Daemon, my prince, the hand says he is to stay for the moon,” A maid bowed, and Aemond furrowed his brow before giving a nod to dismiss the maid, and he walked off to his chambers; it would seem that it was not only your arrival he must worry about, he must worry about the arrival of his uncle as well. 

After five days of travel, you and the whole of your family arrived in Kingslanding. You took deep breaths before exiting the carriage, your kin being welcomed by a row of knights along with the Queen and her children. You could not even bear to look at anyone but the queen, scared to let your gaze travel to your betrothed. Your brothers stood by your side, offering support as all three pairs of their eyes assessed the prince, who had a look of disinterest. Edmund turned to his brothers, trying to see if they as well felt the animosity from the one-eyed prince that was easily felt. Through their eyes, they communicated silently and agreed. 

You straightened your back as you felt the Queen’s gaze upon you; only then did you raise your raise your gaze fully and presented her with a pretend smile. “My queen,” You curtsied lowly in respect; Queen Alicent smiled fondly and offered her compliments. The  queen bemused for her son to have such a comely wife. She turned to her side as she felt Aemond had still not stepped forward or had taken the initiative to introduce himself. 

Aemond sighed as he stepped forward and stiffly, almost reluctantly, bowed before you. He was staring at the skirts of your dress, refusing to look upon your face. He watched as the fabric moved as you curtsied before him. When you straightened your stance, you stared at the floor, still not catching a glimpse of your betrothed. 

You feel your brother Edgar’s arm link with yours as your family is escorted inside the walls of the Red Keep. The royal family walked in front of yours, and only then did you dare to look upon your betrothed. Recalling how your cousin had told you that prince Aemond was the taller of the two princes and had a curtain of straight, silver locks. 

Aemond felt your stare, and it took great restraint upon himself not to turn and gaze upon you to see the actuality of his intended. To deduce if the talk of your beauty was true or just another hoax. 

Aemond felt his mother step closer to him, “Invite your betrothed to the gardens— begin to acquaint yourselves with one another.” The queen whispered, and Aemond rolled his eye. “They have been traveling for five days; let them rest first before you force us to these rituals.” Aemond quietly spoke. His words were easily covered by the chatter of your brothers and two younger siblings, but he still had to hear a word to be uttered from your lips. “Very well then, but I expect you to sit and get to know her later during supper,” Alicent warned, and Aemond resisted verbalizing his disapproval, simply nodding along and going about his mother’s orders just as the dutiful son that he was. 

You and Aemond sat quietly in your seats as the table was filled with chatter. Aemond was not accustomed to it; their usual supper was suffocatingly silent; the only thing to be heard was the clatter of silverware upon porcelain and the breathing of his kin. Now, it was filled with varying conversations from your brothers and his, along with the chatter of the queen and her friend. Aemond had still not looked upon your face and nor you him. He stared upon your hand that was gripping your chalice; just from the looks of it, he could attest that it had never known a day’s work. The look of your flesh was soft, supple, unsullied—a stark difference from his own. 

“Do you think they will go on well?” The queen whispered to her friend; your mother eyed you, who sat in her seat, your gaze upon your plate. Her eyes then turned to your future husband, who gazed at the flickering amber light of a candle in between you. “I do not know… my daughter relishes in silence,” Your mother admitted, and the queen hummed. “So does my son,” 

You chewed on your lip as you noticed everyone at the table was chatting with one another, making small talk, except for you and your intended. You sat by his right, and you could make out the outline of him through the side of your eye; your view of him was a bit obstructed, but you could make out the contour of his nose. You battled with yourself if you should speak with him and, if you did, what topic would you bring up to converse with? 

Aemond licked his lips as he caught the eyes of his mother, imploring him to speak with you. He clenched his jaw and took a few calming breaths before parting his lips to speak. “H… How were your travels, my lady?” Aemond asked through gritted teeth, his head slightly turned in your direction. You blinked, trying to deduce if you had actually heard him speak. You turned to face the prince, finally seeing your betrothed eye to eye. “It was fine, my prince,” You answered quietly with a small smile before you and Aemond were enveloped in silence once more. 

Aemond did not know what overcame him when you spoke, and your eyes met his. He was expecting your voice to be shrill and loud— grating, even. He did not expect to hear such a soft, almost melodious tone when you spoke— a deep contrast from the voices of your kin. 

You bit your lip as you saw your mother from across the table imploring you to keep up with your conversation with the prince. “I— I heard you are quite fond of the histories, your highness,” You inquired quietly, holding your breath as your eyes locked with the unique gaze of old Valyria once more. “I am,” he replied curtly, and you nodded, uncertain if you should speak further or let his answer be, sensing he did not wish for small talk, a sentiment you, too, shared. 

You went quiet once more, and in other circumstances, Aemond would find relief in that, letting himself ease into the quiet, but there was an odd sensation in him that was pushing him to continue the unconventional conversation you two shared. Aemond, however, bit his tongue and let you two be enveloped in silence as you waited for supper to end. 

Aemond returned to his chambers, mind plagued by how to perceive his first encounters with you. He had prepared himself for the possibility of him growing annoyed and aggravated by your presence, but he was surprised in himself as he felt no such emotions rising within him. In truth, he felt somewhat serene that night, a feeling he had not felt in a long time. However, instead of enjoying the calm in his raging being, he ignored it, untrusting of it. Convincing himself that that night was luring him into a trap, one you had devised, acting ever so demure and coy, not presenting your true nature and only deceiving the prince. He will not fall for it. He fortified himself to not lay prey to this calming allure you offered. 

When the next morning came, Aemond was implored with the rest of his siblings to break their fast with yours. Your mothers forcing a bond between their children. Aemond expected his brother Aegon to complain and not abide by their mother’s wishes which is why he was caught off guard as his brother agreed, him being the first one to go to the gardens. “Your Highnesses,” Aemond heard your brothers greet in unison as you four stood and curtsied and bowed before the three of them. 

Aemond first assisted his sister to a chair before finding one for himself, and by fate, the only seat left was the one next to yours. Aemond sat quietly and tried to finish his meal as fast as he could without appearing crude. He listened in to the chatter across the table, surprised that you and his sister struck up a conversation as well. Aemond listened intently to your voice, trying to see if the volume of your speech was forced to lower or if that was just actually the way you spoke, soft— calming. 

He did not pay mind to the subject you and his sister discussed, but he supposed he should have as he suddenly heard quiet laughs emitting from the both of you. Aemond felt an odd warming in his chest as he heard you laugh; it was almost… surreal to hear it. Your laugh was what he imagined nymphs’ laughs would sound like as he read about them in his books. He was in a trance; it was… out worldly that even he, the well-spoken and silver-tongued prince of the realm, was speechless on how to describe it. 

He was proven wholly wrong as he based your manners to be alike your cousin. You were a stark difference from the lady Eliza, and a part of Aemond had hoped you were like her because then, he could justify the prejudice against you that settled and bloomed in his heart. Now, he must come to terms with shedding his cruel perception of you and might actually make an effort to know his betrothed better. Aemond stayed in the gardens that morning a while longer than he had anticipated, trying to deduce your character as you spoke with his sister and interacted with your brothers. A part of him still believes that what you presented was an act, that you were not as demure and chaste as you lead them to believe. But as he saw your small smiles, timid eyes, and flushed cheeks when Aegon would speak of such inappropriate topics, he started to feel as if you were being genuine. 

As the sun began to descend higher into the skies, the children of the queen and her friend decided to depart from the gardens, the heat proving to be too great for comfort. “My lady, would you perhaps like a tour of the keep?” Aemond boldly but quietly asked, he felt the eyes of your brothers turn to him, but he was trying to capture your gaze. A gaze that he had trouble locking upon his, your eyes always darting around the room, difficulty in holding prolonged eye contact. “I would very much like that, my prince,” You smiled, and Aemond stood straighter, feeling his knees give out under him just because of your smile. 

Your brother’s eyes followed you as you and the prince detached yourselves from the group. “Should we not follow them?” Edmund questioned, “Are they allowed to go about without an escort?” Edgar then asked, their queries pointed towards their eldest brother. “I— I do not know… perhaps we should just let them get to know each other, and if sister has any concerns, that is when we shall intervene.” Edward decided, his eyes following your departing figure that was next to a silver prince. 

Aemond was not entirely certain as to how he would go about touring you along the Red Keep; the castle was dreary and had nothing of note to look upon, so he took you to the gallery. It was a less frequented room in the castle filled with portraits of his family’s history as well as some of Westeros. You and Aemond stood before a portrait of the conqueror and his wives, him retelling the histories that you already knew of, but you still listened intently because there was just something in his voice that entranced you. It was deep, velvety, and quiet— holding a sense of calm that enveloped you with every word he uttered. 

Aemond guided you towards another portrait, but he noticed your gaze had shifted to the side of the room, your gentle gaze upon a harp. “Do you play, my prince?” You questioned, unable to resist the instrument that sat lonesome to the side, dusted and neglected. Aemond followed you, “No, I do not,” he answered, his eye going to your fingers, which seemed to itch to touch the strings of the unused harp. “Do you?” He asked, already guessing the answer. Aemond held his breath as your eyes finally locked with his, “I do,” you said, voice holding a pitch of excitement about the subject. There was a beat of silence, neither of you knowing what to do or say. 

“Would you like to play it?” Aemond questioned and he felt his stomach grow warm as a smile appeared on your lips when you nodded. You ventured closer to the dusted seat, but Aemond was quicker to reach it and wipe away the remnants of lapsed time. “Thank you,” You say quietly as the prince stands by your side and observes you play. 

Aemond was never one to enjoy music or songs, but he must admit, there was something captivating about how you played the harp. The tune you played was one he had not heard before, something bright and lively yet still soothing. Aemond stood in quiet awe, watching as your fingers danced along the strings and how your eyes closed, and there was a tranquil smile on your lips as you played the tune. Aemond tried to resist it, but he could not help but help himself as a smile twitched on his lips as he listened to your melody, which, unfortunately, quickly came to a halt. 

“It’s not finished yet,” You say in slight embarrassment, daring to turn to the prince, who you were surprised to see have a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You wrote that?” He questioned, and you nodded, “Well, I try. I don’t think I'm quite good at it, if I am being honest— but my father did say that this piece holds the most promise.” You say sheepishly. “I quite enjoyed it,” Aemond admitted, and that compliment made your heart grow warm. “I’m glad,” You smiled, and another silence took the room, the silence you and he found comfort in. 

With each day spent trying to acquaint with one another, you would like to beleive you and Aemond had reached a deeper understanding. Each of your perceptions made of each other before your meeting shed as you and him began to know each other’s actuality.

There was a secret language between you, a silent one, at that. An agreement that neither of you had to fill up the gaps and lags in your conversations, simply enjoying the quiet, not forcing another topic as a filler. Others around you found it odd that you and your betrothed just walked and sat in silence, occasionally speaking of something that only you and he were privy to, but you and Aemond quite liked your arrangements. 

“They just sit there in silence,” The queen fretted to her friends, finding the design of your accord quite odd. Fretting that the silence was brought by indifference rather than just a mutual and deeper understanding, because how could one get to know the other in silence? “Aye, they do, but they don’t seem… bothered or disinterested by it— I dare say they are fond of it,” Your mother said as the two observed you and Aemond, who walked along the gardens in silence, relishing in the sounds of nature. 

“My uncle shall arrive today,” Aemond broke the silence, assisting you to a seat for the two of you to have refreshments, “Oh, Prince Daemon?” You asked, wanting to make certain of who he spoke of. Aemond gave a nod and watched as your delicate fingers poured him a cup of tea. “Are you close with him, my prince?” You wondered. “No, not at all. I’ve only met him once,” He answered as he placed two cubes of sugar upon your cup, noting that is how you took your tea. 

“However, I must admit that I am intrigued by him.” You nodded, “I always hear talk in this court as to how the lords and ladies compared me to him in his youth,” Aemond confessed, “And does that please you?” Aemond thought about your question for a moment, staring into your gaze that has grown accustomed to looking upon his. “No,” he answered, watching as you nodded. “I would understand; it wouldn’t fare well if we are always compared to another’s likeness,” You mused before you and the prince were enveloped in the inevitable silence once more. 

When supper was nearing, Aemond felt excitement in seeing you once more. He had come far from the prince who dreaded your company; now, he sought it—altering his usual routine in order to spend more time with you. 

Aemond was the last one to enter the dining hall, his eye searching your frame, feeling a smirk twitch on his lips, but it quickly disappeared as he realized his uncle had taken his place. “Prince Daemon, we have saved you a seat next to the king,” Alicent spoke as she noticed Aemond’s arrival, noting how Prince Daemon was quick to spot you when he entered the hall and made a beeline towards you— chatting with you who had no interest in small talk but still participated out of respect.

“I am quite comfortable here, next to Lady Tyrell,” Daemon refused the seat, only settling further into his chair as he turned to the girl next to him, but her gaze was turned to one of his nephews, the one who had a resemblance of him in his youth. You hear the quiet yet disapproving hum of your betrothed as he orders a squire to place a chair by your right, just enough space for him to sit next to you. The new place on your right offered closer proximity between you and Aemond as you had scooted away from his uncle, but he did not like that you were on the side of a damaged eye, unable to see your outline. 

Supper was tenser than the ones shared before; the chatter had died, and the table was enveloped in silence, but not the kind you and Aemond found comfort in. It was the silence that everyone feared and tried earnestly to alter, but no matter the attempts, it seemed futile. 

Aemond clenched his fists around his utensils, hearing as his uncle tried to chat you up and you entertaining his queries. “So, what brings you and your family here, Lady Tyrell? Highgarden is quite a journey.” Daemon questioned. “They came for my betrothed and I to be acquainted,” Aemond suddenly interjected, turning his body to face you and his uncle, who he had noticed threaded closer to your side. Daemon hummed, quick to sense jealousy from his nephew. He knew he should be somewhat mature, but his mind could not help but conjure up possibilities to torment his brother’s second son. “Hm, you are quite fortunate to have such a lovely betrothed; it would seem the crown has favored you… I remember my first wife, Lady Royce, the bronze bitch whose sheep seemed to prove more comely than her,”

Your eyes widened at the elder prince’s words, disparaging his first wife so openly and offensively. “If my brother had provided me with a bride whose beauty was comparable to Lady Tyrell’s, perhaps there would be no need for me to leave my first wife… you are lucky, nephew,” Aemond clenched his jaw as he noticed Daemon’s eyes trail downward to your bosom that heaved ever so lightly as you were rendered uncomfortable by their topic.

You turned to your brothers, a plea in your eyes to save you from the princes you sat in between. Edward was quick to stand, “Come, sister, I shall escort you to your chambers,” He announced, and you let out a breath, Aemond standing as well to make way for you to exit, “Good night, my lady,” He bowed and boldly took your hand placed a kiss on your knuckles. A blush over, taking your cheeks as you curtsied before him, your mothers thrilled as they saw affection blooming between the two of you. 

“You looked quite uncomfortable,” Your eldest brother noted. “Is your betrothed proving to be ungallant? Must we intervene now and convince mo—“ You quickly shook our head, “No! Prince Aemond has been quite… lovely; cousin Eliza was somewhat wrong in her judgment,” You say quickly in defense of Aemond, who you had grown to deeply like the past few days. “I was just not prepared to meet a character such as the Prince Daemon,” You added, and your brother nodded in understanding; he, too, was scandalized as he heard the words uttered by the elderly prince. 

“So, you have grown to be quite… fond of your betrothed,” You bit your lip as you hear a teasing tone in his voice. You sighed and felt a smile coming to your lips. Whatever fear you had for the marriage subsided with every silent and serene moment with Aemond. “I have.” You confirmed, and your brother nodded. Placing a kiss on your temple before you enter your chambers and get ready for the night.

It has been three days since Prince Daemon’s arrival, and Aemond has been growing peeved at how his uncle would always trail you. Aemond’s new routine of spending the quiet hours of his days with you that was quick to feel like second nature, abrupted by the arrival of his uncle. There were now only scarce moments where you and Aemond were left in each other’s company and quiet, his uncle always trying to speak with you, and you could not deny him conversation, for it would be impertinent. 

It was past high noon when Aemond concluded his training with Ser Criston, his feet hastily carrying him away from the tiltyard to find you, who had frequented the gallery to play the old harp that found new life from your touch. He stood by the threshold and was quick to grow annoyed as he noticed his uncle was in your presence once more. 

“You do not speak much, do you?” He heard Daemon question, your fingers ceasing to play the instrument. “I take it upon myself to not speak unless spoken to, my prince. I do not wish to bother anyone. I know how… annoying it can be when one just simply wishes for peace and quiet, but there is an insistent noise you must attend to.” You say, and Aemond was quite surprised as he heard a slight in your comment, but his uncle did not seem to catch it. 

Aemond observed as you returned to play the harp, the melody easing whatever tension he harbored, but it was quick to return as his uncle wandered closer to you. Aemond stood rigid by the door; your back was face to him and he saw his uncle turn his head towards the door, a smirk on his lips as he stepped further into your space. Daring to take a lock of your hair in his fingers, twirling the lock. 

You tensed in your seat as you felt Prince Daemon’s finger twirl your hair. You looked at the strings of the harp wide-eyed, uncertain of what to do. 

When Aemond noticed your unmoving frame that did nothing to hinder his uncle’s actions, he removed himself from the door frame and marched back to his chambers. Whatever understanding made between the two of the past days was quickly forgotten as his cruel perceptions of your nature, he mustered before meeting you returned. 

You sat tensely at dinner that night once more, waiting for the presence of your betrothed to somewhat comfort as his uncle sat next to you again. When Aemond entered the hall, you placed your hopeful gaze upon him, but he did not turn to you, ignoring the empty seat next to you and instead to a seat in what was supposed to be the place of his uncle. 

Throughout dinner, you would peek a look at Aemond, who refused to meet your gaze. There was a prominent scowl on his face, and his demeanor held an air of indifference that strayed dangerously close to animosity. You started to wonder if the Aemond you stared upon right now was the Prince your cousin had warned you about. And perhaps the past few days spent with him was an act, a fictitiousness in him to appease his mother so the marriage would proceed. You were disheartened by the thought. 

When the following morning came, Aemond’s eye followed as you roamed the halls alone, following behind you but not close enough for you to notice your presence. You led him back to the gallery, where both of you were caught in surprise when his uncle stood in the room, waiting for you. Aemond clenched his fists, believing he was a witness in your clandestine meetings. The scandal of it! Here you are, an engaged woman meeting with a man who was old enough to be your father and was married to the King’s chosen heir!

“My prince,” you curtsied as you spotted him near the harp, having the urge to turn back around and exit the room. Uncomfortable to be alone in the Rogue Prince’s presence. “All alone? Where is your betrothed?” Daemon mused, stepping closer to you. “I— I do not know,” You said and backed away from the prince who was threading closer to your space once more. “Hm, it’s quite foolish of him to leave his lovely bride to be all alone… especially in this keep where danger always lurks,” Your lips parted at his words. Was that a threat? You thought. 

You swallowed thickly and turned to the door, wanting to make an escape but not one so obvious that it would make suspicion rise. Daemon smirked as he saw fear in your eyes; it was so easy. You were such an innocent and sheltered thing. He could smell you from leagues away, a lovely and tempting prey that a dragon could never resist. It was a shame that you were betrothed to his nephew, but perhaps that could still change. 

You gasped as you felt Prince Daemon flush your bodies; you stared at him wide-eyed as he took hold of your cheek. 

Aemond watched the scene; rage within burned bright and carelessly. He wanted to put a stop to whatever he witnessed, but he stood in wait, wanting to find evidence if this was truly how you were— promiscuous and would settle to be a whore of his uncle.

“My prince, wh—“ You panicked, trying to back away, but he held you still. “Such a pretty young thing you are… a shame that you’ll be wasted on my disfigured nephew,” You drew out all of your might and pushed away Prince Daemon, him stumbling only a few paces. You see a sinister smirk rise to his lips as he tries to close the gap between you once more, but you are quick to strike his cheek, rendering him in shock, and you take that opportunity to run out of the room and into safety. 

Aemond was hidden behind a pillar, and as you passed, he saw clearly the distress on your face and how you were on the verge of tears, rendering him guilty for not coming to your aid as he had thought you were in want of his uncle. 

Aemond saw as Daemon furiously marched out of the gallery in pursuit of you, but he was quick to step away from his hiding and face his uncle. “You dare try to sully her? Was my half-sister and your whores not enough? Must, in your old age, still prey on young innocent girls?” Aemond spat, ready to challenge his uncle in your honor. Daemon chuckled as the young prince stared at him wide-eyed. “You get ahead of yourself— they might compare you to me in my youth, but you are completely lacking of what it means to be a true Targaryen prince… you’d have to thank your cunt of a mother for that.” Daemon chuckled, and Aemond no longer hesitated to draw out his sword. 

A battle between nephew and uncle commenced in the halls; both men wielded their weapons with such authority that neither one could draw blood. Daemon was somewhat impressed by his nephew. He thought the talk he heard of Aemond was just propaganda spread by his grandsire, but it would seem that his nephew knew his way with the steel. That, however, did not deter the prince, for Aemond was still completely inexperienced when compared to him. 

One of the princes was near drawing blood when a band of Kingsguards appeared in the halls and were quick to separate the dueling princes. Daemon laughed as he was held back by the knights, his nephew still seething across from him, still ready to attack. The elderly prince brushed off the hold on his arms and laughed once more before walking away from his nephew, leaving their state as it was. 

Aemond brushed off the guards and hastily marched in search of you, wanting to make certain you were well— wanting to offer his apologies for his judgments and lack of protection over you. 

He knocked on your door, waiting on bated breath as he heard you shuffling inside. When you slowly revealed yourself, Aemond felt his stomach pit at the sight of your teary eyes that you tried to hide. “I’m sorry,” He was quick to breathe out, unable to stomach you in such a state of distress. Your brows knit together at his words, “What? My pri—“ Aemond shook his head and forced himself into your chambers. 

“I’m so sorry, my lady… I—“ Aemond repeated but you still had no clue as to what he refers to. “My uncle, he is a depraved man; I should have protected you from him.” He explained as he saw confusion in your face. Your eyes widened at his statement, “You saw us?” You asked in fear that he would think you were tarnished. “I have, and I… I should have come to your aid, but instead, my mind cruelly thought you were in want of him; I apologize, my lady.” It felt foreign for Aemond to apologize, but it seemed to roll off his tongue effortlessly for you. He would never have fathom to encounter someone or the day that he would apologize earnestly, ready to beg for forgiveness. 

“No… my prince, you need not apologize; it was not your doing,” you said, but Prince Aemond stubbornly shook his head. “It is my duty to protect you— to defend my lady wife.” You bit your tongue as he referred to you with such a title. It felt surreal… and you must admit it brought a stir in you that you quite liked. 

You and Aemond were in silence once more, the silence both of you had gotten used to, the silence within each other that you both craved. The serene silence that could only be provided by each other. “Will you still… still have me? Even after my transgression?” Aemond dared ask, not wanting to live in the hope that there would still be a way that you would be his. Surely, you would be deterred to take him as your husband, for he could not even defend you with such a threat. Aemond studied your face, his knees growing weak as a smile spread across your lips. “I still want you, my prince,” You admitted, heat blooming in your cheeks as you said the words. Aemond could not help but cup your cheek, wanting to feel the warmth of them as they flushed with color before him. 

“I must admit… I was dreading to meet you,” He said quietly, and he felt you nod. “I, as well… I was greatly warned that we might not see eye to eye.” You admitted. Aemond hummed and brushed his thumb across your soft skin, your bodies threading closer and closer. “I do not believe I would ever want someone as much as I want you,” Aemond confessed, his voice so low that if you had not felt his breath fanning your skin, you would think you had imagined his words. “I never thought anyone would understand me in the way that you do, my prince,” You breathed out as his face threaded closer to yours, his eye on your lips as you spoke. 

“You’re mine… say it, my darling.” Your eyes fluttered closed at his words. “I’m all yours,” Quickly after you uttered the words, you feel his lips upon yours. A kiss filled with longing— impatience. A kiss that was long overdue, for how could either of you live for years without knowing each other? How could Aemond try to ignore your existence, and how could you try to deny this marriage? It was set the day you were born. You two were simply destined for one another. 

As your lips parted, you smiled before your soon-to-be-husband. Aemond hummed in contentment and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, inhaling your intoxicating scent deeply. “Shall we tell our mothers that they shall prepare for our wedding, then?” Aemond smiled, and you let out a quiet laugh as you nodded, letting him hold you. “And urge them to make haste,” Aemond’s eye twinkled with amusement as he dipped down to capture your lips once more. 

A fortnight had barely passed before you and Aemond uttered your vows before the gods—an intimate wedding commenced, as you both requested. And it was followed by a family dinner after. Aemond was impatient, as were you, but you and he waited for the meal to end; for the past days, there was a need greatly bubbling inside him, having trouble finding restrtaint and contentment with just stolen kisses and touches. 

When it was finally night, Aemond led you to his chambers, you already flushing in anticipation of what was to come. When he led you to your shared chambers, you were met by something covered in a white cloth. You frowned and turned to your husband, who simply smiled and closed the door behind you. “It’s a gift for you.” He said and stood before it. You stepped closer as he urged you to uncover what he had given, though you already had a sneaking feeling as to what it was. 

Aemond watched with his heart in his eye as you beamed before him as you uncovered what he had given— a harp. Newer and grander than the one in the gallery, the body was plated with gold, and delicate carvings of flowers scattered its body. You bit your lip and step towards your husband, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips agaisnt his. “Thank you… I love it,” you said gratefully as your lips parted. Aemond simply hummed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know we were to exchange gifts… I could’ve gotten something,” You then say, fretting he would take offense. 

Aemond shook his head. “You already have given me your hand; you are my wife. What more could I want?” Those words uttered, and the certainty in Aemond only made you melt further. He intertwined your lips once more, but the kiss shared held something wholly different from the ones shared before; it was urgent, filled with longing and desires that were greatly suppressed. 

You feel breathless, but at the same time, you make no move to part your lips. You feel him lead you to the feathered bed, his hands on your waist as he sits you gently upon the cushion. You blushed as you felt his fingers hover at the bodice of your dress, itching to undo the laces, but there was trepidation in him. You bit the insides of your cheeks and took the initiative to do it yourself. Aemond sucked in a deep breath as your dress fell before him, revealing yourself only dressed in your shift. 

Aemond fell on his knees before you, moving his hand to cup your cheek and the other to undress you further. He heard a moan escape your lips as he nipped your bottom lip. His cold hand cupped your breast that pebbled before his touch. You mewled his name as he parted your lips, your hands finding the buttons of his leather tunic. 

You ran your hands through his smooth, chiseled chest and Aemond felt chills running down his spine at the feel of your hands on his skin. You let out a breath as you feel your husband lay you down, his weight atop you, his weeping length aligned with your glistening entrance. You sighed as you felt his finger tease your folds, Aemond resting his forehead up your shoulder as he felt your arousal. “You’re all mine, my darling,” Aemond breathed out against your lips and swallowed your whines as his length penetrated you.

Aemond groaned at the sheer feel of you clenching around him. Pleasure and guilt swirled within him as he saw your face contorted in pain, kissing away your tears as you acclimatized yourself with his length. He truly thought himself indifferent in the ways of pleasure, only succumbing to it occasionally when even he could not suffice his lust— but now, he was certain he knew what the fuss was all about when it came to fucking. He had only a taste of you, but he was certain he was addicted. It took a moment before your whines of pain turned into whimpers of pleasure, your husband breathing heavily as you urged him to speed up his pace, but Aemond was conscious not to break and hurt you further. 

“Aemond, please… I wa— need more,” You breathed as Aemond’s thrusts were cautious. He bit his lip and sped up his pace ever so lightly, but that was not enough for you. With your legs circling his waist, you shifted your weight and placed yourself atop your husband. Aemond was rendered stunned by your actions, only watching in awe as you bounced upon his cock whilst you straddled his waist. He never thought you’d have it in you, but he supposed it was always the quiet ones who would be capable of the unexpected. 

“You were so quiet the days before, little wife… but look at you now— your moans could be heard throughout the castle.” Aemond hummed, and his hands found home on your waist, assisting you as you writhed against his length. Your hands were planted on his chest as your hips worked against his in search of friction. “Husband, please,” you pleaded, knowing you would not come to what you searched for without his assistance. Aemond smirked and moved his hands to cup your behind and lifted his hips to thrust deeper and harsher into you. 

“Yes… yes, gods, Aemond!” You cried as you heard him groan at how you scratched his chest, leaving imprints of your hands upon his skin. “Are you to come, my darling? Is my little wife to come at my cock?” He hissed as he felt his own release coming. His hands traveled your frame, cupping your tits and moving his head to take one into the cavern of his mouth. You nodded, your head that was tilted to the heavens, your back arched, and your husband’s name slipping your lips as you came undone. You hear him call out your name as he spills his seed deep in your cunt, your heavy breathings mixed as you collapse atop him, his lips finding yours once more. 

“You truly are made for me,” he whispered against your lips. Feeling a surge of new and overwhelming emotions that you could not yet utter, all you could do was kiss his lips once more and bask in the presence of the man who had been bound to you the moment you were born. 

That's Aemond alright.

Deadly Affairs: Bonten! Manjiro ‘Mikey’ Sano x Bonten Reader (+ Bonten)

Chapter 1: Genesis

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [series summary]: you’ve seen this story multiple times, where the girl does everything to end up as the wife of the king. In any other timeline, you would have done the same. This time is different. You don’t want to marry the king. You want to be him.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [chapter summary]: your destiny starts on your 23rd birthday, at the back of Manjiro Sano’s car, with the loss of your virginity

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [content warning]: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, DUBCON, bonten timeline, fem reader, power imbalance, age-gap relationship, sexual harrassment/abuse, sexism and misogyny, implied torture, flashing, alcohol/drug use, slight manipulation, drunk sex, public sex, fingering (f. recieving), virginity loss (reader), unprotected sex piv, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, slut shaming.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [r-18+] [not suitable for 17 and under]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [wc]: 4.5k

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [masterlist] [chapter2] [taglist]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [notes]: I will no longer be using the series colours on each chapter, since tumblr keeps glitching. Sorry guys :(

BONTEN, one of the most dangerous organizations that has ever arisen from Japan and possibly, the world. Led by men born from the era of brutality, Japan had never seen such a business successful with covering the tracks of organized crime as much as BONTEN has.

Despite the brutal murders, torture chambers, human and drug trafficking and even bodies found with teeth missing and finger prints skinned off, the police could never completely trace it back to BONTEN. They knew it would have something to do with such a deadly corporation, but as far as the higher ups and Japan's government were concerned, they were just business men with the usual ethical issues.

Anyone who tries to dig in too deep will face Bonten's hammer of judgment.

It's the life you've grown accustomed to for a while ever since Kokonoi had picked you up from the street.

Poverty made you sell your morals to the devil in the designers before you could regret it; Bonten sponsored your university course in accounting, trained you how to use a gun and taught you how important you were to them. Inappropriate touches and comments on your appearance by your fellow workmates and your superiors, you knew that no one would give you the time of the day to care about your accusations.

Besides, you've seen prostitutes that went missing after complaining so much about bonten members being rough with them.

"When is my flight for Makarti scheduled?"

You break out of your thoughts and raise your head to meet the dark eyes of the man sitting in front of you with his head down, Hajime Kokonoi, the man who took you out of the gutters to become his personal assistant who helped with calculations, estimates and other errands.

"It's supposed to be by twelve," you say, preparing yourself for his complaint as you explain the situation. "But your private jet needs a few maintenance checks before it's ready for your flight, so I had to shift it to two pm."

You waited for him to say anything to berate you for not doing the maintenance checks yesterday like he told you to, but instead he kept his head on the work he was doing and brushed it off, making you sigh in relief internally. "That's good, I have some meetings to attend to anyways, so I can avoid having extra work when I return. Also, you've gotten my suits from the dry cleaners?"

"Yes sir."

"And you've sent a message to Mochizuki and Kakucho about the change in flight times?"

"Yes sir."

The room falls silent, save for the noise coming from Kokonoi's fingers typing away on his laptop. You tap your feet lightly, waiting for either his next question or for him to dismiss you until he raises his head to look at you with confusion and annoyance written all over his features.

"Yes?" He stops typing to pay complete attention to you. "What are you still doing here?"

"Sorry sir."

You immediately stand up from the chair with your bag and scramble for the door in haste, adjusting your dress that had ridden up to your thigh. The last thing you wanted was for him to scold you again with disapproving eyes glaring down on you.

Hajime Kokonoi was very hard to please and easy to anger, you could never tell when his switch would flip and you don't like being around whenever it did.

You don't see the way Kokonoi's eyes rest on the curve of your ass strained against the office skirt you had worn today, before looking down your legs as you struggled to open his large office doors

"Wait."

You stop halfway, leaving the door half-open as you turn to the man sitting some feet away from you. Kokonoi rests his angular jaw on his intertwined fingers before clearing his throat. "I just remembered that you would be joining Mikey and Sanzu for a meeting tonight."

You feel the blood in your veins turn cold as you process Kokonoi's words, your fingers curl around the door handle tighter than before, anchoring you to the ground and keeping you from stumbling at the news. Kokonoi doesn't miss the way your face turns sour at the news he had broken, and frankly, he can't exactly blame you for your reaction. The top two executives are frightening, even more brutal than he himself was, especially when it came to you.

"I'm giving you the rest of the day off to prepare." He goes back to his laptop screen and keeps working on the audit he was doing before. The world of the yakuza cares for no man, and if you despise someone, either you kill them or you stick to them like glue. "Someone will come get you by 7pm so be ready by then. You can go now."

The room goes quiet again. Kokonoi can feel your questioning glare asking him why he would break his promise of not letting those men come near you, again.

"Yes sir."

You stomp out of the room angrily and the door slams shut after you, leaving Kokonoi all by himself to keep doing his work. He had to admit, the head on top of your shoulders wasn't just for decoration, you actually do know how to use it.

You knew better than to ask him questions.

────────────୨ৎ───────────

THE noise from the club was deafening the moment you stepped into the place.

Once upon a time, Ran had told you he and his brother used to rule this place with an iron fist, before finding a much smarter way to make everyone submit to them. Now, practically all the clubs littered around Japan, including this one Manjiro Sano had decided to be the venue of the meeting, belong to them in Bonten's name.

Dressed in a sequined two piece cream top and skirt paired with heels, you certainly turned heads with your looks. You could hear whispers of men and women asking about who you were, seeing as you walked up to the V.I.P area with an air of confidence, somewhere only known Bonten members, business partners of Bonten or unlucky women foolish enough to entertain any executive were allowed to enter.

As expected, the guards in charge stopped you in your tracks. You could practically feel the predatory gazes of the men aimed at your choice of clothes, oozing lust, before flickering into disapproval at how you were dressed.

"V.I.Ps only."

His tone was condescending for someone that just stared at you like a piece of meat, although it was nothing new to you when it came to the men in Bonten. You don't pay mind to his attitude, instead lifting up your skirt partially to reveal the Bonten tattoo on your inner thigh. You could see his eyes practically entranced by the flesh of your thighs and the panties peeking through the skirt, greedily absorbing the details of every inch of skin as you lowered your skirt down.

You blame Kokonoi for letting you go through with that idea. Flashing people to reveal your tattoo isn't exactly ideal for you.

"Can I go in now?" You say and without waiting for them to finish, you push past them and got into the entrance to the V.I.P lounge.

IF you had a nickel for everytime Kokonoi lied to you about something, you would be extremely wealthy by now.

You could see the collection of wine bottles distributed across the tables, each to every individual's taste. Smoke billowed around the area, mixing with the scent of weed and alcohol. Voluptuous women were strewn on their laps, sides and even at their feet, smiling and pouring drinks, talking loudly or laughing at something they said.

This is not a meeting. This was a private party and you want nothing to do with it.

Haruchiyo, Bonten's number 2, is the first person to notice you awkwardly standing there and staring at the rest of them in horror and shock. His lips break out in a smile aimed at you, calling your name loudly and garnering everybody's attention, including Manjiro Sano who looked tired and bored, despite the woman who was sitting on his lap and feeding him. "The birthday girl is here, come sit down."

'Birthday girl? Does this look like a party I would like to attend?'

You mindlessly walked towards the space Haruchiyo had made between him and Manjiro, and sat there stiffly. You notice Haruchiyo hasn't touched his drinks at all, as if he was waiting for you to see this madness while he was sober. Electricity runs down your spine as he leaned so close to your ears, lips brushing it lightly to whisper;

"So, do you like it? Boss said I could plan it however I wanted since Kokonoi wasn't around."

'You shouldn't have.' The voice in your head is dry, sarcastic even, but you know better than to trigger him on his good days. Even if the urge to slap him across the face is creeping along the surface, you decided to keep things to yourself.

You glance briefly at Manjiro who was following (or trying to) a conversation the chatty escort he had hired had started. Your gazes meet briefly and you shyly avert your eyes away back to your lap.

Of course it was him that gave Haruchiyo the reins to host this party. Who else could do something like this?

You sigh weakly and turn to Haruchiyo, who was still waiting for your answer with a huge expectant grin on his lips. It wasn't like you could tell him the truth about how this party felt like it was for the men of Bonten and not for you.

"It's um…" you forced a smile at him before you continued lying. "... nice. Thank you sir."

A sigh of relief escapes your lips when his grin widens. You feel his arm drape over your shoulders, drawing you closer to his body. He dips his head into the crook of your neck, hot breath dancing along your body as he whispers in your ear again.

"Anything for you princess."

You sit frozen when he pulls away from you and goes back to the escort he was chatting with as if he didn't just make your heart race. You didn't get to think about it for long when a wine glass is put right in front of your face. Manjiro does not look at you as he shakes the wine glass in your face and you take it from him, trying to ignore the electricity running through your fingertips that brushed his.

"Thank you sir."

"Try to relax." His voice is low enough for only you to hear him speak. Your body grows hotter when he turns his gaze completely on your body, slowly scanning your attire for the evening before focusing on your face again. "We're not punishing you this time."

You nod quickly, making a huge effort to keep the glass in your shaking hands. Being so close to Manjiro Sano and Haruchiyo Sanzu proved to be more difficult than it should have been. Was it the fear that had been instilled into you by these men themselves?

Or was it the fact that you were surrounded by the constant reminders of your twisted sexual fantasies?

"A toast, to the birthday girl!" Ran's loud voice brings you out of your thoughts and you absentmindedly raise your glass up into the air. Whatever it is you feel about them doesn't matter, you couldn't afford to get anymore involved with Bonten beyond office contact.

"To life and a fatter ass!"

You don't notice Manjiro watching your facial expression morph into a scowl before hiding it with a fake laugh and repeating. "To life and a fatter ass."

────────────୨ৎ───────────

  "YOU didn't like the party.

You don't say anything in response, with the light hum of the car's engine serving as the only sound in the vehicle and opting to look out of the window instead, watching the cars drive past yours. Of course you absolutely hated everything tonight; hell even your sour facial expression couldn’t be hidden by your usual fake laughter and flirty words. Manjiro Sano had noticed and offered to take you home early when you said you were tired.

You don’t feel bad for cutting his time short despite him having little time to be frivolous. It’s his fault anyways for setting up a disaster like this in the first place without even being considerate enough to assume you wouldn’t want it and you don’t owe him any gratitude for a job terribly done.

He sighs after a while, now looking out of his own window to distract himself from the way your skirt rode up to reveal the flesh of your thighs. "I'm sure Sanzu tried his best given how he ... is."

Something in you snaps at that moment and you face him with annoyance in your eyes. You were just about done with the way he kept digging the knife deeper into your gut. "I had plans for the evening Mr. Sano." You put it bluntly, not caring if he took offense to your words or just ignored you completely. "I did not ask for anything. I'm beginning to think you do this to make me miserable."

Your frown only deepens when you hear him chuckle quietly before turning around to face you with a curious look written all over his face. Somehow, seeing you upset made you cuter in his eyes; You always looked so vulnerable in times like these, whether you're walking on eggshells around him or outright being ungrateful to him. Maybe it's the alcohol giving you an extra boost to speak your mind, and he'll allow it for now because he wants to hear what you have to say.

But it won't go unpunished.

"What were the plans you had for this evening?"

Manjiro doesn't miss the way your face contorts slightly into an uncomfortable smile. It's not like he didn't know anyways, he had overheard your discussion with Ran’s assistant about what you wanted to do about two weeks ago and it was what made him call Haruchiyo to plan the most disastrous party ever to stop you from going ahead with your plan.

"It's nothing, never min-"

"I know you wanted to hook up with some idiot you met on a dating app, don't play coy with me."

You swallowed hard at his harsh tone, flickering your eyes anywhere but his face. The ridiculous last minute party made sense now that he had ripped the band aid off. Manjiro must have heard of your plans to hook up with someone you had met, since Kokonoi never let you even breathe in peace or left you alone whenever you wanted to do something.

"Today was my only chance and you ruined it." Your voice cracks slightly as you hiss at him. It was frustrating honestly, the one time you had to yourself without Bonten breathing down your neck, they found a way to make you even more miserable. "I have needs too for god's sake! I have a life outside being your lackey-"

"So you were going to let some lowlife stick his dick into you because you can't keep your legs shut."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

You try to reply to him again but no words come to your head. You can only close your mouth and look at your lap; it's unbelievable that he was berating you for wanting some form of intimacy in your life after being so pent up and going through so much shit. "So what do you expect me to do Mr. Sano?" Your voice is bitter but you didn't care any more at this point. "Ask Kokonoi to fuck me? Or should I go to Ran or Haruchiyo? Or…"

A smile makes its way to your face the moment an idea pops into your mind. You raised your head sharply towards him and jabbed a finger into his chest to buttress your point.

"Or should I ask you to do it? To corrupt and taint me?"

"Stop that."

"Do you want to fuck me, Mr. Sano? Is that why you hate seeing me with those low-lives? Is that it?"

"Don't start something you know you can't finish, (name)" it's a stern warning and you know Manjiro Sano isn't just being petty as usual. He was actually getting riled up from your constant taunting, which only served as entertainment with you because when was the last time you saw Mikey ever react to anything? "Or else."

But you don't listen to him. Even though you know from past experience that angering your volatile boss could end up with a bullet embedded in your brain, you push yourself closer to his body until you were flush against him, watching him stiffen as you lowered your lips next to his ear and rested your hand on his muscular thigh. It's obvious you're not thinking straight since you've had a couple of drinks and he's trying to keep that in mind, especially when you begin to trace a line towards his crotch area.

"Or else what, Mr. Sano?"

It happened so fast you could barely comprehend how he had you on your back to the seat with his body hovering over yours. Bleach blond bangs frame his face, highlighting the once empty, soulless eyes into darkened gazes full of lust and greed, hot breath hitting your face. A strong pale veiny hand pins your arms above your head, his knees separating your thighs, your jaw in a bruising grip of his other hand.

"S-sir-"

"A bit too late for that." He cuts you short, before turning his head to the driver of the vehicle. "Stop the car, now."

Your heart thuds loudly against your chest as the driver pulls the car into a dark corner hidden from the streetlights, coming to a stop. Manjiro does not ease up his grip, nor does he stop gazing into your soul as he tells the driver to "get out" in less than polite terms. You can hear the door of the car open and close quietly, along with the faint flicker of a lighter as the man walks away from the car.

With the two of you alone, Manjiro doesn't hesitate to crash your lips against each other in a messy kiss. Your boss wins the battle of dominance almost immediately with the sheer force he uses to force your mouth open with his hand so that he could explore your mouth. Your moans are silenced with each bruising kiss from him, his teeth grazing your lips before his tongue swipes over the marked place, engulfing your mouth with his until your lungs burn for air.

Moans of "sir" escaped your lips in sync with every wet kiss he placed on your face and cheek. Manjiro moves his lips from your lips, to your jaw and then settles onto your neck. The feeling of his teeth grazing your neck has you mewling and leaning into his touch. His hand leaves your jaw and quickly makes its way to your skirt, hiking it up a bit to reveal your panties and the Bonten tattoo on the plush of your inner thigh.

Manjiro pulls away from your neck and you let out an annoyed whine, already craving for his mouth on your neck again. His eyes sizes up the lace panties you had worn, a wet patch forming on it and he begins to trace a finger up and down your slit, teasing you through your panties. You let out a soft "hngh" from your lips as he moves to your clothed clit, rubbing tight circles, sending waves of electricity all over your lower region.

"Don't think I'm going easy on you." He mutters whilst pushing your soaked panties aside to reveal your bare cunt. A soft whine escapes your lips as two of his fingers start entering into your tight pussy, forcing its way into your walls until you accommodate the intrusion. "As soon as I'm done stretching out this cunt, I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."

You don't get to reply as his fingers begin to move at a pace that has your body trembling.

His fingers curled into you, pumping them in and out of your pussy. A loud moan escapes your lips when his fingers brush that spot, making your eyes roll back and pussy pulse around his fingers. "You like that?" He whispers close to your neck, biting and sucking marks into your skin, not letting up his rough finger fucking, curling his fingers even the more that has your legs shaking and the coil in your belly tightening. "Of course you do. You like it so much, look at how you're clenching on my fingers like a needy slut." His tone is mocking and yet, it only seemed to add fire to the flame.

Your body spasms in his hold, breathing fast as a violent orgasm rips through you until it becomes a dull throbbing and your head hangs while trying to catch your breath. Manjiro pulls away from your cunt and kneels upright. You peek through your lashes, watching him impatiently unbuckle his belt with one hand and toss it aside on the floor, followed by him working down the zipper and buttons of his pants, tugging it to his knees along with his boxers to reveal his thick, veiny cock springs free of its confines, drops of pre leaking from it.

He takes his dick in his free hand and smears the tip with pre before lining it up with your hole. A quiet groan escapes your lips as he rubs his length against your glistening pussy gathering all the slick, your heavy breathing matching his own. His grip on your hands above your head tightens, keeping you in place as he positions his tip in front of your entrance.

The pain when he pushes his tip into you is almost unbearable.

Your eyes snapped shut in response and you bit your lip to keep yourself from screaming as he slowly inched into you. "It'll be much easier for the both of us if you relax." He hisses at you, before reaching for your clit and circling it gently, trying to distract you from the pain. "Breathe."

His words were like a mantra and you found yourself taking in a deep breath and letting it out, trying your hardest to relax. Slowly, the pain from being stretched out gave way to feeling so full for the first time until he was buried at the hilt. A groan escapes Manjiro's lips; the feeling of your velvety walls around his hard cock was divine and if he didn't have any ounce of self control he would have cum immediately. His hips experimental rolls against yours and the loud "Manjiro" you let out had his brain short circuiting.

Everything is a blur after that.

His pace is fast, angling himself to your g-spot and abusing it, the whole car shaking with the power of his thrusts. His finger plays with your clit, despite you screaming "too much sir, too much!" in between moans and trying to squirm away from his brutal ministrations.

"Don't run away now, (name), I'm just doing what you want. Look at how well you're doing for a virgin." He says in between pants, thrusting into you even faster. He doesn't miss the whimper escaping your lips as his tip abuses your g-spot repeatedly- in fact it only encourages him to keep up the pace. "You're so obedient, I like this version of you. Might make you my personal slut- shit-"

His balls tighten at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him at that sentence. Seeing him staring down at you condescendingly as he fucks into you hard is shamefully arousing, and your mouth can't help letting out loud moans of pleasure when his fat tip prods against your cunt.

The noises of skin slapping skin from the intensity of his thrusts in the car is obscene and noisy, you're sure the guard standing outside is well aware of what is going on.

He lets go of your clit briefly to put your leg on his bony shoulder, bringing you even closer to him and presses a hot, messy kiss on your lips, his tongue playing with yours again. You answer his kiss with another weak moan, the coil in your belly tighten once again with the urge to snap.

"You look so fucked out, it's pathetic" he laughs against your lips and moves his head to the crook of your neck. His grip tightens on your hand as he holds your trembling body in place. "I would have mistakened you for a slut if you weren't so fucking tight." His hips stutter, before regaining his pace again. He spits out darkly; "Since you're so cock hungry, maybe you should be our personal slut, huh? Bonten's cumrag?"

Maybe it's the alcohol coupled with the intense feeling of pleasure that has your mind completely dumb for him. Maybe it's because he's the one in control of everything as he rolls his hips into you, bringing you closer and closer to edge, his dark eyes clouded with lust and greed peering into yours that had you saying "yes, yes yes yes-" until your second orgasm washes over you, more intensely than the first and knocks you out completely soon after.

He falls over the edge too, pumping loads and loads of cum into you as he bucks into you with a few more thrusts, more than anything he's produced before until he's spent completely. He pulls himself away from your cunt immediately and sits on his heels, dark eyes watching cum leak out of your abused hole and pool down your cunt with interest. Manjiro's eyes flicker up to your face and realized you have passed out.

'It must have been too intense for you, huh.'

He releases your hands above your head, taking note of the fingerprint bruises on his hand and reaches for your bag to take out your wipes. He cleans the cum and specks of blood outside your cunt and tries to dab off the stain on the chair as well before tugging your skirt down and adjusting his pants. Wounding down the window of the car, Manjiro signs the driver outside to come in and he obeys immediately, putting out his cigarette on the concrete wall.

A sigh escapes his lips, in sync with the car engine revving up again. Manjiro's eyes flicker down to your sleeping figure that he's maneuvered to his lap and trails his gaze down to the marks littered all over your jaw and neck. Deft fingers circle around the swelling skin, still lost in thought about how pretty you look with his markings.

Something in him is selfish when it comes to you. He’s never been outright with his affections, but there’s just something about you that makes him want to have you in his cage, trapped with him. Perhaps it’s why he let Koko take you in all those years ago and why you haven’t died yet despite your misdeeds. Maybe it’s because he sees himself in you; the pain and the loss, the madness that you’ve buried deep down in your heart.

But for now, he’ll settle with whatever you both have. As long as you stayed with him. And as long as you stayed loyal to Bonten.

"Take us to my house."

Forever. Even in death.

────────────୨ৎ───────────

special thanks to: @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @cockonoi @rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @genawi @getonite @reiners-milkbiddies @gh0stgirl333 @kawaiikoalagarden @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @kodzubaby @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @tenjikusstuff4 @hapikiou @Lovelyartistz @lik0

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ layla 2024, do not repost, translate or plagarize my post on this platform or any other platform. before you follow or apply to my taglist, read my info caard first.

Chimamamda Ngozi Adiche, We Should All Be Feminists

Feminism done right.

Just Friends

SUMMARY: Mikey and Izana heard you’re going out with someone else. Of course, the two men vying for your love had been gently courting you, intent on stealing your heart. So why else would you go out of your way to talk to other men, allowing them to flirt with you when you already had two perfectly willing and able 'friends' waiting to upgrade to 'boyfriend' territory? They decide it’s time to set aside their differences in order to make you theirs.

Warnings: kidnapping, yandere, jealousy, praise, dubious consent, blowjobs, spitroasting, vaginal fingering, double vaginal penetration, creampie

Pairing: Mikey x AFAB!Reader x Izana WC: 4.1k

Mikey and Izana sat opposite from one another at the cafe, their arms crossed, their gazes fixed on each other. When Izana contacted Mikey and proposed they meet up to 'resolve their issues,' the younger man was taken aback to discover Izana waiting for him, patient, silent, and solemn. He'd previously ordered his favorite coffee for the black-haired man, as well as something for them to eat on, which the waitress had just placed on the table between them. The seconds ticked by silently, until eventually, Izana hummed and set his cup down, “I’ll get straight to the point then, shall I? You must be wondering why I’ve asked you to join me for this little tete-a-tete,” Mikey grumbled irritably at Izana’s words but nodded, but otherwise remained quiet, waiting for Izana to get on with what he intended to say, “I’ve recently been made aware that my- our darling Y/N seems to have attained a new suitor,” Izana watched as Mikey’s jaw clenched, his back straightening as he realised the gravity of the situation now before both men.

They'd both been head over heels in love with you since the first time they saw you. You were a newcomer at the time. You had befriended Mikey, a martial arts instructor at the time, and had been introduced to the rest of his friend group, at which point you had unintentionally created competition between Mikey and his semi-frenemy stepbrother, Izana. You were a positive force with a happy-go-lucky personality that was almost irresistible to the two guys who had fallen head over heels in love with you They knew you liked them both - as friends - since you preferred to hang out with Mikey or Izana above anybody else in your little group of friends. Of course, the two men vying for your love had been gently courting you, intent on stealing your heart and making you theirs, both to keep you for themselves and to rub success in the other's face. However, you were either too harsh to reject them directly, or you were simply too young to understand Mikey and Izana's genuine love for you. Why else would you go out of your way to talk to other men, allowing them to flirt with you when you already had two perfectly willing and able 'friends' waiting to upgrade to 'boyfriend' territory?

They'd both been head over heels in love with you since the first time they saw you. You were a newcomer at the time. You had befriended Mikey, a martial arts instructor at the time, and had been introduced to the rest of the friend group, at which point you had unintentionally created competition between Mikey and his semi frenemy stepbrother, Izana. You were a positive force with a happy-go-lucky personality that was almost irresistible to the two guys who had fallen head over heels in love with you They knew you liked them both - as friends - since you preferred to hang out with Mikey or Izana above anybody else in your little group of friends. Of course, the two men vying for your love had been gently courting you, intent on stealing your heart and making you theirs, both to keep you for themselves and to rub success in the other's face. However, you were either too harsh to reject them directly, or you were simply too young to understand Mikey and Izana's genuine love for you.Why else would you go out of your way to talk to other men, allowing them to flirt with you when you already had two perfectly willing and able 'friends' waiting to upgrade to 'boyfriend' territory?

“Mikey, please sit down and calm yourself; we can't have you going wild with rage and dark impulses when we have no idea who this other person is,” When Mikey stood up, Izana became enraged and began pacing violently around the table, irritated by the attention they were receiving from the other café visitors. Mikey gave Izana a sidelong glance, but the older man simply waved him to take a seat, which he did unwillingly. When Mikey continued to bounce his leg instead, the table and chair vibrated faintly, but Izana ignored it in favor of leaning forward, his lilac eyes nearly sparkling with desire. “I've devised a strategy for making Y/N ours, but I'll need you to agree to cooperate with me. I don't care for you, but I know you'd never damage our darling, and I'm sure you know I'm your best bet as well. Are you up for it?” Mikey agreed without hesitation, to to Izana's delight, the black-haired and bleach blonde men leaning in closer as they started whispering the plan to one another, progressively coming up with the ideal sequence of events that would put you right in their lap. After everyone agreed to the plan, they completed their drinks and ate their meals before going their own ways to finish their tasks in preparation for the appointed time.

As you gently open your eyes to a dimly lit room, the last flickers of unsettling visions swirl together in a heavy soup, your head aches. As you try to turn over and go back to sleep, the absence of light calms the agony that continues lancing through your brain, and a groan of discomfort escapes your throat. The feeling of a pair of arms around your waist has you smiling softly, the memories from the night before - your date with the cute guy who’d been flirting with you for weeks, coming home, the kiss in the rain, Mikey punching the lights out of him-

… wait a fucking second.

As you try to tear free from the arms wrapped around your middle, you inhale sharply and your eyes spring wide. As you try to break free from your newfound anxiety, they tightened around you, a gentle voice whispering quietly in your ear, “Hmmm, settle down, love, it’s just me,” Mikey’s sleepy voice whispers in your ear, distracting you from the fear that fills your chest. When you open your mouth to ask the black-haired man a worried question, your eyes are drawn to activity in front of you. You gasp in surprise as you turn around to see Izana seated in an overstuffed armchair in front of you, his lilac gaze periodically flickering up to intensely examine you and Mikey. The man behind you pouted and nuzzled his face into the back of your neck, his warm breath caressing over your skin and sending shivers up your spine as he noticed your attention. “Awww, c’mon baby, why are you only paying attention to Izana? It’s not fair you know - we both worked so hard together to get you here," Another shudder went through you, this time fearful, and you swiftly whipped your head around, your body straining in Mikey's grip as you tried to flee.

“W-what the hell are you talking about, Mikey?! Why am I here - where’s-” When you noticed your friend's onyx eyes had a suspiciously sinister look to it, you gulped hard, fear flowing out of you. You paused in your queries, knowing that something in the back of your mind was telling you not to inquire where or how your date was, especially given how firmly Mikey was holding you and the memories that flashed through your mind every now and again, “What am I doing here? Why did you bring me - where are we?” You asked instead, your panic and worry beginning to overwhelm you. You flinched when you heard the sharp snap of Izana getting out of his chair and stretching languidly like a cat. The frightening sensation of being imprisoned by your friends, like a mouse caught between the paws of two very huge and very hungry cats, was heightened by Izana's nonchalant movement and Mikey's relentless squeeze against your back. Despite the fact that you knew Mikey and Izana would never hurt a single hair on your head, a terrified moan forced itself from your throat before you could stop it, tears stinging painfully at the corners of your eyes as your chest rose and fell rapidly. “Please… please tell me what’s going on!”

Izana sauntering over to you and Mikey on the bed, the slender man crawling onto the mattress and causing it to dip beneath his weight, delicately shuffling your squirming figure. The tan man reaching down to pull you into a kiss with a warm, soft palm cupping your cheek and pulling your face up and towards him. You gasped in surprise, allowing him easy access to your mouth, oblivious to Mikey's gaze as Izana received your 'first' kiss. Though, the black-haired man didn’t pout for long, as he slowly slid his hands down your front, biting his full lower lip as his fingers brushed over the warm sliver of skin the shirt - that they’d dressed you in once they got you home - didn’t hide before tugging the material up to slip his fingers under and up the smooth skin of your tummy instead. You shivered, distracted both by Izana’s tongue as it thrust into your mouth as Mikey’s hands moved up to your chest, his palms warm as he cupped your breasts in them. You whimpered and swallowed instinctively, unaware of the fun little aphrodisiac you’d just swallowed as Izana continued to kiss you, leaving you breathless and light-headed, “Hmmm, there we go, don’t worry sweetheart, that’s just a little thing to calm you down so we’ll all be able to have some fun together,” As he broke the kiss, Izana purred, his soft lips kissing their way down your neck and shoulders, where he proceeded to nip and suck deep bruises into your fragile skin. “We love you so much, Y/N, we just couldn’t stand back and let someone else steal you away from us.”

Your voice just came out as a whine as one of Mikey's hands moved down to cup between your knees, trying to push away the dizziness that has overtaken your feeble head since Izana kissed you. As a deep, urgent throb shook through your core, your thighs reflexively clinched and rubbed together, embarrassed by the sudden flow of passion that accompanied the action, especially when Mikey put constant pressure to your delicate mound, “That’s it, just relax and let us take care of you - hmmm, you smell so good, baby, so warm in my hands,” Mikey muttered sweetly into the back of your neck, his fingers sliding to squeeze and stroke your right breast, distracting you while Izana unbuckled his pants front and pulled his cock out. You whimpered as saliva pooled in your mouth, dizziness and dread racking your mind, and you were perplexed by the emotions that ran through your body even as Izana backed away, one of his hands sliding into your hair and humming leisurely as your head was dragged onto his lap, “Why don’t you be a good girl for us and open that pretty mouth, huh? We wanna make sure that every little inch of you belongs to us - don’t you want to be good and take Izana inside you?” You didn't know why, but you melted under Mikey's words, your lips slipping open mindlessly, tongue drooling between your lips. Izana smirked and took advantage of your mindless actions, satisfied that you seemed to be giving in to them as he slid the head of his cock into your mouth, shuddering with arousal when your warm spit coated the heated skin.

You mewled softly as the taste of Izana's cock entered your lips, arching your back as you sought to draw away from him, the arousal bubble that had clouded your judgment bursting as you realized why you were in this position. You wiggled in Mikey's grip, but the way his arms were wrapped around you made it impossible for you to move away from the two men – in fact, it appeared to push you to roll your hips back into Mikey's grip. You trembled as the thick length of his cock rubbed against your ass' cheeks, the sensation temporarily diverting you from the taste of Izana's dick in your mouth, but you were quickly reminded of it when you tasted his salty precum. Izana's hands gently held your head and encouraged you to bob up and down the length that fits in your mouth, and you let out a small moan that made both guys giggle and coo at you, “Hmmm, you look so pretty like this, with my cock in your mouth, sweetheart,” Izana cooed, his lilac gaze wandering your flushed face, watching hungrily as Mikey ripped your shirt from you before focusing on removing your pants, leaving you exposed to the two men as they continued to touch and toy with your body. When he pressed in a little too far, you gagged and he would allow you to pull back until only the tip remained in your mouth. Teary eyes looked up at him through your lashes, spit pooling in your mouth and slowly beginning to drip from the corners to make a mess of your lower face and chin.

“Hmmm, I bet her mouth feels great, doesn’t it, Izana?” Mikey rumbled in your ear, tugging down your panties and slipping two fingers between your surprisingly soaked folds, his lips twisting into a wide grin, “Oh? You’re already so wet for us, baby, I can feel you dripping all over my fingers. Such a good girl for us, you love what we’re doing to you, don’t you?” Mikey cooed, fluttering kisses all over your neck and shoulders, disregarding your brief objections as he spread your labia with his fingers and teased your clit with short, sharp circles. Your body's reactions caused the two men to cry your name in heated tandem as you spilled moisture at the movement, a low moan muffled by Izana's cock as he gently drove in your mouth, your body's reactions leading the two men to groan your name in heated tandem.

Mikey suddenly pressed the thick fingers he'd been caressing your clit with within your pussy, immediately adding a second when he felt how wet your inner walls were, “Hahh, fuck, you’re so wet, look at how easily you took my fingers, darling. Does sucking Izana off get you this hot and bothered? Hmm, if we knew this was how you’d react to being taken by us, we would’ve done this a long, long time ago,” Mikey chuckled breathlessly as he pressed more into your mouth, your tears spilling in your eyes slowly slipping down your cheeks to mix with the mess you were forming around Izana's cock, the pale blonde man laughed breathlessly as he pressed deeper into your mouth. Mikey hummed and proceeded to mutter dirty praise into your ears, spreading your legs with the hand not now working your cunt open so he could push and scissor his fingers inside your pussy more easily, anxious to feel your tight, dripping walls wrapped around his dick

You wanted to speed up what they were doing since you didn't know what else to do while caught between two guys you'd always considered your closest friends, while they used you to their hearts' content. You accomplished this by bobbing your head and sucking Izana properly, hoping to get them off and away from them while they rested, however your actions only appeared to encourage them to keep trying to show you how much they 'loved' you. “So perfect, you’re so perfect, I-we love you so much (Y/N),” Izana sighed, his head tipping back in bliss as Mikey stretched your inner walls by pressing a third finger into your dripping cunt, “You’re taking me so well, doing so good and letting Mikey work you open for the both of us. Hmm, we’re going to make you so full, going to claim your pretty body all for ourselves,” You shuddered with a mix of disgust and lust, embarrassed by your acts yet yearning for more of the praise and pleasure you were getting from Mikey and Izana.

Mikey's fingers tenderly scissored within you, his touch remarkably mild for a man with his throbbing cock nestled between your ass cheeks. You whimpered. You must have been so distracted by Izana thrusting into your mouth and trying to keep down your gag reflex that you hadn’t even noticed Mikey taking off his pants; the only reason you realised his dick was naked and rubbing against you was due to the pre-cum that left sticky trails over your skin, marking you primally as he continued to finger you. When you felt the coil in the pit of your belly tightening as your cunt dripped on Mikey's fingers, you knew you weren't going to endure much longer until your orgasm washed over you - especially when you started rocking your hips in time with his finger movements.

“Awww, just look at how eager you are, baby cake. You want us inside you so bad, don’t you?” Mikey crooned against the shell of your ear, delighted by your choked, muffled little whine and the absentminded way you nodded in response to his question, “Shh, don’t you worry, Y/N, you’re almost ready to take us - you’re such a good girl, so sweet and perfect, love you so, so much,” He panted against your neck, thrusting his hand several more times before pulling his fingers, groaning hotly when he saw how soaked your juices had left them, “Fuck, just look at how wet and messy she’s gotten, Izana,” Mikey practically growled as he extended his hand to his stepbrother, who halted in his thrusts to suck Mikey's fingers into his mouth.

In response to the motion, the younger guy made a quiet surprise sound, his sharp onyx stare darkening even more as he saw Izana clean his fingers of your secretions. You pulled off Izana's dick with a wet sound, coughing slightly as some of his pre-cum stuck to the back of your mouth. You were gasping for air, hoping to make one last run for freedom while Mikey and Izana were distracted - only for the two to change your position, forcing you to straddle Mikey's hips so Izana could fit between your legs. Two cocks stroked slickly across your labia, teasing your entrance and leaving sticky pre-cum marks on your skin, “Aren’t you just so lovely, Y/N? Just look at how easily our cocks slip over your pussy.. you want us inside you, filling your pretty cunt with our dicks, don’t you?” Mikey chuckled breathily, relishing the little whine you made in response to his teasing.

Your eyes went wide with slight panic as you watched Izana grip both his and Mikey’s length in one of his hands, shuffling closer on his knees to press the leaking tips between your labia, “Please…” You begged, voice catching in the back of your throat as you felt the two different heads prodding your entrance threateningly, a chill rushing down your spine when Izana smiled at you, leaning in to press sweet, gentle kisses over your mouth, cheeks and chin, “P-Please, Izana, Mikey… please…!” You couldn’t gather your thoughts enough to make a complete sentence, not that you had to with how easily Izana and Mikey held you. Mikey shifted his hands to grip your waist while Izana guided you to sit between them, cooing. Izana's lips slanting over yours in a heated, desperate kiss to try to cover your moans of tortured pleasure, they gently began to thrust into you.

The sensation was powerful, unlike anything you'd ever felt before, and you could feel your inner muscles contract firmly in an attempt to keep the two men out. Izana broke the kiss to mutter lovely praise against your lips, while Mikey purred his affection for you against your back, the black-haired man having moved to sit erect instead. It took several long, drawn out minutes before their cocks were buried inside your cunt to the hilt, the feeling of being filled and pinned between them causing small noises of discomfort to leave your swollen lips as you panted through the pressure. Your head throbbed and spun dizzily, your hands being held in one of Mikey’s behind your back when you tried to push against Izana’s chest a few moments earlier, leaving you unable to stop what was happening or attempt to defend yourself.

You were weak, pathetic, and so full with the two men who claimed to love you. You swore you were going to be ripped apart by them.

“Shhh, shhh, baby, just relax and let us take care of you,” Mikey murmured sweetly behind you, his and Izana’s hands holding onto your waist and hips as the two men used their combined strength to lift you until they were halfway out of you before pulling you back down roughly. You made a loud, almost ugly noise at the sensation, writhing and whining sweetly between them while they slowly began to fuck you, bouncing you on their laps as they cooed and praised you sweetly for taking them so well. You hated that it didn’t take long before whatever discomfort you felt melted away into pleasure, your whining turning into hiccupping moans of pleasure, babbling pleas falling from your lax lips like a waterfall as Izana and Mikey rutted into you with increasingly rougher thrusts.

Your hips bucking into the hard push and pull of their cocks inside you, you groaned and whined their names. Mikey would withdraw out with every thrust inwards of Izana’s dick, neither man leaving you empty as they rutted inside your aching heat.

The men's words became a confused mess of beautiful praise and devotion as you relaxed and began to buck in time with them, their voices seemingly blending together into a soup of sounds that made you shiver between them. Their skin was scorching, and their bodies were effortlessly pinning you down, their hips jolting into yours in unison as their cocks relentlessly touched and poked your g-spot. It was all too much, too intense for you to do anything but cling on and attempt to make it through the trip of your life. Your eyes hazy and half-lidded as you drooled between them, “So good, such a sweet girl, love you so much, taking us so well, perfect, so fucking perfect and ours,” Mikey rambled heatedly against the skin of your back, his forehead pressed intimately against your nape as he pounded into you from behind.

Izana chuckled breathily, his body sensitive from the previous pleasure he’d experienced at your mouth, though he held on as the wet sounds of your love-making filled the otherwise still air of the room, “You’re such a sap, Mikey - but he’s right, Y/N, you’re perfect for us, we had to make you ours, had to show you how much we love you,” The older brother groaned, grinding and rutting into you with equal fervour as Mikey, their bouncing motions causing pleasure to spike through you - especially as his pelvis kept rubbing your poor, overstimulated clit with his harsh thrusts.

Your bodies were a mess of sweat and tangled limbs, bruising marks blooming over your soft skin to show just who had taken you like this, their mouths feeling searingly hot against your skin. You whined and bucked, forgetting your attempts to get away from them as their thrusts made your pleasure build and build and build in the pit of your belly - until eventually, your muscles clenched and locked up as your orgasm washed through your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Mikey and Izana slammed into you for the last time.

Light and ecstasy surged through your body, hurling you over the edge and making you stiffen up in a vice-like grip around the two dicks buried to the hilt inside you. Mikey and Izana were paralyzed by the tightness around their cocks, unable to do much more than follow the hot, tight clasp of your cunt as you convulsed around them. They each choked out your name, their bodies trembling against yours as the milking, desperate grabbing of your saturated insides drew them over the cliff with you. You mewled hazily when you felt the heat in your belly from their release, two loads of thick, sticky cum filling your belly.

Izana and Mikey patted your sides, kissing whatever part of your face, neck and shoulders they could reach, their murmurs of affection barely comprehensible to you as the intensity of it all became too much and you lost yourself to the dark stillness of sleep.

ᨳ Oh brother!

stepbro!rindou x stepsis!reader x stepbro!ran

summary: your stepbro’s are so mean to you and your mother does nothing to stop them! Instead, she decides to leave you all alone, so that you could all “bond” in peace!

content + warnings: fem!reader, dubcon, pseudo-incest, non consensual recording, panty stealing, fingering, male masturbation, vaginal penetration, threesomes, creampie, anal, overstimulation, blackmailing, dark content.

tagging: @ambrodias

wc: 1.6k

You hated them! You absolutely hated them so much. Ever since your mother had married their father your life has been absolute hell! By them, you mean your new stepbrothers, Ran and Rindou! They were the absolute worse, constantly teasing you and stealing your stuff. You weren’t stupid, you noticed your underwear and even a few of bras have been going missing - and you knew those perverted freaks probably took them! You weren’t blind either, you were fully aware of the lecherous looks Rindou would give you when he thought you weren’t looking. 

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ᥫ᭡ ─ PEEK-A-BOO! ⸝⸝ shuji hanma.

ଘ. featuring ⸝⸝ bully!shuji x f!bimbo!reader

ଘ. synopsis ⸝⸝ your dumb little self can't stop being so clumsy, especially around the biggest school bully, dropping your glasses and getting on your pretty knees in search of them only to just be teased for them..

warnings ⸝⸝ 1.1k+ wc. sws. dc. non/dub-con. noncon recording. coercion. time skip!hanma. college au. reader wears glasses. oral sex (m. receiving). public blowjob. face fucking. oral creampie. cum eating. throat bulging. voyeurism. dacryphilia. asphyxiation. hair pulling. bullying. degrading. slight masturbation. this is so taboo, help. (17+).

note ⸝⸝ yes, reader lowkey kinning velma, she a blind bitch— but BUT, this was supposed to be a kisaki fic but some whore–@dilftaroooo–convinced me to make this mr. turnip heads fic.. *runs on all fours*

“dumb bitch.”

were the first words you heard growl beside you the second your foot overstepped the last staircase. your eyes fall to the polished floors in front, legs buckling and anchoring themselves to the ground, and you can feel your jaw clench in anticipation already in resigned to the discomfort to follow.

your poor knees scrape against the campus floors when you were met with gravity, even when you try to heed your fall; newly painted nails skidding across the tiles, the pain radiates in a way that shatters your brain, or was it just purely embarrassment that made your breathing suddenly shallow?

either-or..

a silent sob prys from your mouth when you try to gather yourself up as quick as you can but hearing all of the snickers of how much of a loser you are stifling around made your breathing hitch.

yet, those slick comments didn't phase you that much; used to the remarks your classmates would always whisper around about you throughout the years..

used to them always giggling at you when you're desperately in search of those glasses that had always fumbled with gravity as well..

used to them always leaving you helpless, walking around you, blissfully unaware of the pain you endure..

you've always damned yourself about those goofy oversized glasses in silver frames because they were always finding themselves on the ground when you did. they've always made you look like a complete idiot in search of them; knees halted to the campus floors, hands sliding against the dusty tiles to find them desperately, not caring about the pile of clipped papers and books that went down too..

you just needed your glasses first. and everyone knew that. but they all only pointed and laughed at your clumsiness before leaving you behind like some dead meat..

“oh, oh, please,” your fingers slide across the tough leather of your books, dipping around them to find those thick lenses, “where are they..” your voice is faint as you ponder, just how the voices that teased you all fainted away slowly when the school bell rung.

so attentive on finding those lanky glasses of yours and worried about being late to class, the clicking of boots that bellowed closer and closer was out of your focus..

“hey, sugar, you wanna know somthin’?” a familiar deep and taunting voice echoes down the stairway behind you. you jump slightly, eyes squinting as your head spins around.

before you can process the blurred figure walking toward you, the man speaks again, “the number of times your dumbass has dropped these ugly ass glasses is the same number of girls i’ve fucked,” he's close now, feeling the heavy presence of the mans taller frame leaning down to you.

“and that's a lot.”

“h-hanma?” you know that snarky voice laced with foul intent by heart.

his screaming taunts always stung you and left a ringing in your ears throughout the years of his brutal harassment. just hearing his pitched voice made your skin cold, hands to even cramp up from the memories of him flinging your glasses across the room to only watch you crawl around for them before stepping on your newly painted nails with the heel of his boots.

“in the flesh, cutie.” hanma cooes before flicking at your forehead, a gentle pang from his pointer finger to your skin.

“leave me alone, asshole.” you pry away from him, trying to swat away his inked hand from your face.

“oh? fine then. i was tryna be nice and give you your glass but you wanna be a bitch–”

“no, give them to me.” you go to stand up quickly but the sudden familiar sharp sting to the roof of your hand kept you down. wincing at the tough feel of his boot imprinting against your skin made you whine, bones feeling as if there being crushed between the sole of his shoe and cement.

“hanma! get off of me! that hurts!” your free hand swats at his leg, only to take a new route of actions quickly; gripping at his thigh instead when he put more of his weight down.

“you gonna stop being a bitch then?” you almost pout at his words but instead you simply nod, too weak compared to him so what's the point of fighting him off when you know he always wins in the end?

“eh.. i don't know if i wanna give 'em now. you hurt my feelings.” you can practically hear the laugh he's holding in his chest slip through his teeth.

your burning eyes flicker up to his; partially a blur of a face but you can see the outline of that shit-eating grin he always holds highly around campus imprinted on his lips. hanma didn't mean to twist his tongue in his mouth and loosen his death grip on your hand, but he never realized how pretty your lips look when you pucker them up into a frown; the heavy gloss on them shining just like the stinging tears pricking at your lower lash line..

he truly never cared to even notice how the mesh of your skirt raised higher than it should have when you're on your bruising knees after a hard, embarrassing fall..

or even cared to realize how pretty you really do look on your knees in front of him..

hanma swallows down that bubbling feeling in his belly that rises at the pleaing look you give him. but seeing you almost whine, desperate with mercy in his hands, he couldn't help the way how his pants suddenly stiffen around him, feeling how the growing bulge in his jeans press painfully against the leather of his belt.

“heh, fine. you want them?” you nod vigorously, eyes squinting and seeing his hands motioning around your face, but hearing the clasp of a belt unclip made your brows knit together.

“have 'em.”

hanma frees your hand from under his heavy boot, and you can feel your blood rush to it instantly but the second your hands reached up for your glasses, your blood could only pump faster, feeling something harder and thicker than the silver hinges you're used to holding.

your hand flinches back. eyes now open all the way like someone was prying them apart, trying to get a good look of that thick blur prodding in front of your face.

“h-hanma? what're you doing? what is that?”

“do you not want your glasses?” he cooes, voice whisked like auditory caramel, “they're right in front of you.” hanma nudges himself closer to you, just enough to smell the deep husk of him and caving you in with your back staggering against the wall behind you.

barely, the focus you were putting in rushes; a fuzzy image of his pretty long cock in chastity that drools with a pearl of pre, his cock swinging heavily close to your face with your bent glasses resting close to his dark-haired base. your brain stutters, mouth left agape at the surreal sight.

hanma? the shuji hanma, your worse bully? prodding his beating cock at your lips? in the campus stairway halls?

the air felt as if it became thicker, harder to suck in when your focus moved to the side, seeing how his long legs caved you in, a lanky hand pressing against the wall beside your head.

“c’mon. quit actin’ stupid ‘n suck my cock already or your not getting them.” he's already nudging the crown of cock between your pursed lips as he enunciates.

all of this was happening too fast, your brain was still trying to catch up on how you even fell in the first place. but now? you couldn't even understand if this was a fever dream or not.

you try to push away, eyes wide, owlish-like, confused as to why this was even happening. yet, that irk of an itch in the back of your brain was bugging you, feeling the cool air hit against your panties that suddenly drool a little with your slick..

that itch in your brain screaming out to you to finally get some dick, even if it was your bullies fat and pretty dick..

and soon, that annoying itch was quickly brushed off the second you allowed his prodding tip to break past your pretty lips..

“mm, good little slut. open wider, gonna take a whole lot more than just this.” hanma groaned, head hanging low against his chest as he watched you take in more of him.

those golden eyes never left you, not even for a second, even if he heard people walking around the halls. he was too focused on the way you wrap your pretty lips around his length, the warm feel of your mouth before dipping further in, feeling the way your throat contracts around him.

your hands reach out for stability on his thin legs, gripping around them tightly when ‘sin’ rooted itself into your hair, fisting it into a ball to push you down against him faster.

“oh, fuck,” his eyes narrow, hooding into slits, only seeing a thin line of yellow glowing under his lashes as a smirk runs along his face, “why haven't i done this before?!” the fingers at the back of your head knot firmly into your hair, almost threatening to pull it from the roots.

your eyes almost knock to the back of your head when he crushes you fully against him, nose being tickled by the dark hairs at his base and the cold feel of your glasses.

tears begin to quickly prick from your eyes, nose beginning to run, and drool slipping from the sides of your mouth as he guides your head faster and faster over his cock. the tight feel of his cock head jabbing at the back of your throat made you whine around him, hips shifting around and a sharp pang to shoot between your thighs.

your hand twinges, quickly guiding itself down between your bodies and past your thighs to relieve that ache of tension. the pads of your fingers run along the sticky trail against your panties, adding pressure to your weeping clit that throbbed at the slightest touch.

“you getting off to this, whore?” hanma growls, a guttural moan scraping at his throat, “like being used like the hole you are?” he grows harder, forcing your throat to work him in and out of you at his impatient, incessant pace.

“answer me slut. you like this, don't you? playin’ with that little pussy while i use you?” he tugs the back of your head, making your lips pop off around his cock. bubbles of spit drool off the fat of his tip with a slimy string connecting to your lips.

you go to respond, a heavy breath of air catching in your throat but he was only toying with you, wanting to catch you off guard and stuff your pretty mouth full again. wanting to make you retch around his sheer mass that stretches your throat, a subtle bump of his cock bulging through when he slides back in.

his hands clapping around the back of your head to keep you in place, your mouth struggling for any agency. you try to flatten your tongue and try to drop your jaw as much as possible, licking lightly and stroking against the underside of his thick cock, but it felt impossible with his size to make some room without cramping up.

“yeah, keep playin’ with yourself like that, this the only attention you'll get from me, stupid whore.” pleasure was rising messier and greedier the more he rocked you back and forth. the sudden bucks of his hips sync with the devoted bobbing of your head that drove on with a singular intent.

though the words that slipped through his lips along with strained moans stung you, you do as he says; your fingers rolling around your panties with enough pressure against your sensitive bud, pinching and lolling it over, till you were moaning in coeval with him. you tease your clit, the smooth pads of your fingers running along the messy pool of your arousal as hanma can only scoff.

“never knew you were so fuckin’ filthy,” he titters over the loud bubbly slurps you provide around his cock, “‘n–fuck–never knew your throat can handle me like this.” his head lolls off to the side, craning over with his jaw hinged open.

his harsh words shouldn't have affected the way they did, but you can only moan around him, the tingle of vibrations makes the apple in his throat to bob.

trying so desperately to breathe but forgetting how to tell your body to do so, you can only hope he was close before passing out.. and so, you try to run your tongue over his cock to heed your help, soon feeling a particularly prominent, rising hardness begin to stand.

hanma didn't even want to give you a warning either, enjoying the sappy tears that roll down your flushed cheeks, makeup drooling along the streams as well. you looked so pretty below him like this, crying over him, desperate need to breathe all because of his fat cock. he couldn't help it, bucking his hips hard enough till your eyes squeezed shut and feet to tap against the floors.

he couldn't help it..

the desperate feel of you trying to prove to be able to handle the frantic indulgence and pleasures coming on stronger for his needs, he couldn't help but pinch your nose close.. watching the way you try to pull back when he forced you back against his base, suffocating you with the fat of his cock.

the heavy and hot tears that clump up around your chin drip down, just how his thick ribbons of cum shoot in the back of your throat. feeling your mouth being filled quickly with his hot sticky mess, some pooling out the sides of your mouth made your brain numb.

and you couldn't tell if it was the lack of oxygen or the high feel of your mouth being used for the pleasure of him till he popped and your pussy to drool even more..

“fuck, yeah, yeah, take all that fuckin’ cum,” his calloused hands keep you hostage to swallow it all, deeming you till you did, “any slips out ‘m breaking these glasses, bitch.” he snips.

finally, he lets you pop off his cock, but the recovery was short-lived, ‘punishment’ pinching into your stained cheeks, “y’know, just as pretty as you look on your knees, you look a lot hotter on camera.” he grins.

₍ ੭ᐢ..ᐢ)੭ @getoswhore — refrain from plagiarizing, translating, modifying, and/or reposting my work!

THIS WAS SO GOOD

I'm Locked In This Space

Day Twenty: Lactation + Bukkake | 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Tomura Shigaraki x Dabi x Twice x cow hybrid f!Reader Genre: Smut Notes: this is a sequel to this... enjoy 🐮 (you can probably read this without reading part one but... part one is bomb and u should totally read it 🤪) Warnings: 18+, noncon, pseudocest, lactation, bukkake, rough touching, nipple play, degradation, praise, group sex, cumplay??, fingering, masturbation, dacryphilia, slapping, spitting, kicking, hair pulling. Words: 3.7k

“Nii-San! Too rough!” you cry. “Too rough with me!” you continue.

“Shut up,” Tomura hisses. “They’re fucking broke, why doesn’t it ever work when I do it?” he complains.

“Because you’re a fucking incel and have no idea how to touch women.” Touya teases.

The light provocation is more than enough to rile up your brother. And who is lucky enough to be at the receiving end of his frustration? You. He slaps you, spits in your face and shoves you further into the ground. That slinky tail of yours waves around in the air as you try and pick yourself up. It was like you were begging for Tomura to yank it. You screech eerily, it’s jarring enough to cause everyone to cover their ears.

This would not be happening if your daddy wasn’t away on business. Touya was right, Tomura didn’t have a clue how to touch a woman. But your daddy was perfect. You miss him. He’d keep you safe; he always does.

If only Tomura and his friends hadn’t stumbled across your little indiscretion with your daddy. If only Tomura hadn’t discovered that your tits leak milk when you’re aroused.

You wouldn’t be in this fucking mess right now.

Jin drops to the ground. He can be just as mean as the others, but he has a sweet side too. There’s no doubt that he’s your favourite of Tomura’s friends. You curl your body away from him, still sceptical of his intentions. But he looks at you with pleading eyes. He’s begging for you to trust him. And maybe you’re dumb for having faith in him; but something is telling you to believe he won’t hurt you.

He sits with his back to the wall and spread legs, inviting you between them. You accept. You shuffle along, doing your best to prevent the swishing of your tail. If any of them must violate you like this, desperate for their milky reward, you’d rather it be Jin. He hooks his feet around your ankles, spreading you open for your brother and Touya to see. You nestle your face into the crook of his neck. You’re embarrassed, ashamed. He doesn’t mind. He wants to help.

Two thick fingers plunge into your already sopping hole. You mewl from the stretch, his fingers are a lot bigger than your brother’s. He lightly rolls a nipple between his finger and thumb. You instantly feel at ease. It’s obvious he has experience, something your dear brother severely lacks.

“Just relax sweetheart, gonna make you feel good.” he whispers as his face turns to you. A grin forms on his face when he sees your cute little ears twitching from the positive reinforcement. “Cum already! I’m getting bored!” he adds, the risen volume making you jolt.

You wrap an arm around his neck, pulling your face closer into him. For some reason, it’s irritating Tomura. He’s never been protective of you before. He hates you, after all. But seeing Jin be so kind to you and seeing how affectionate you are with him. He’s worried. Is he, jealous?

“You’re doing great baby, sorry I shouted. I didn’t mean it okay?” Jin hums. You nod, tears pricking at your eyes. It’s so unusual for boys your age to be nice to you. Tomura had made it very clear that you would never be allowed to make friends at university, he easily turned everyone against you. So, to have Jin be so sweet with you, almost like a friend. It was foreign, but it was nice.

“Stop being fucking nice to her, makin’ me feel like I shouldn’t be watching.” Touya interjects. Jin snickers but ignores his friend. Much to Tomura’s chagrin.

“Come on bitch, cum for me already!” Jin repeats in a similar vain to his previous outburst. How could you possibly cum when you were so nervous? But because of his irritating secondary voice, he’d mastered the art of speaking whisper quiet when he needed to. He lined his mouth up with your little, twitching ears, so he could help move things along. “I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my whole life,” he murmurs. “even your cow parts, in fact, I think they make you even prettier.” he confesses. You pull your face out of your hiding spot and look at him.

“Yeah?” you whisper back.

“Yeah.” he assures you. The feeling of his big fingers fucking your insides all of a sudden feels a lot more enjoyable. “Think you can cum f’me? Wanna make you feel good, gorgeous.”

Tomura has had enough, he’s not about to stand around and watch while you have a private conversation with his friend. Slut. Ugly cow slut. He begins to approach to drag you away from him, but Touya has noticed something he hasn’t. He holds his arm out to prevent him from moving any further. Your cute little face scrunches up and your mouth falls into an ‘O’ shape as your brother’s blonde friend batters your insides. The squelching is obscene, you’re desperate for this to be over so you can get on with your day. You’re close, so close.

“Jin!!—Nggh!” you moan.

You feel embarrassed as you cum in front of an audience. Touya and Tomura are lording above you while Jin holds you gently against him on the ground. You’ve done what they ask. So, you know what’s next.

“Make her do it, Jin.” Tomura commands. So Jin gets to work, pulling gently and carefully on the nubs of your breast. It’s so tender, loving. It reminds you of how daddy is with you. “Hurry up.” Tomura orders. With the right pull and a perfect pinch, your breasts are leaking. Tomura scrambles to the ground and hurries towards you, not wanting to waste a drop. He latches onto your breast and suckles greedily.

“Fuckin’ freak.” Touya hums. It’s ignored by your brother, he’s too drunk on the treats from your teats.

He wipes his mouth breathlessly as he takes all that you can give. He looks up at Touya, unashamed of his behaviour. He just pants, and pants. Until finally, he smiles.

“Make her do it again, you both need to taste it.” Tomura commands.

Jin gets to work on rubbing your swollen clit, eager to make this nightmare end for the both of you. It’s a relief that you’re so sensitive already, it takes no time at all to have you on the verge of cumming again. Jin stares intently into your eyes as you come closer and closer to the precipice. He’s telling you that you can do it. You’re amazing and you can do it. So, you do. God, you do. Jin begins tugging on your nipples again before Touya objects.

“I’m not an incel like this freak, I got it.” he tells his friend.

You’re yanked away from Jin and pulled onto Touya as he sits comfortably on the ground. He has you straddling him. He bites his lip as he admires the changes of your face. You must like it when your nii-san’s friends touch you. Whore. Stupid cow whore.

“Do my fingers feel good, sweetheart?” he asks you. You nod. He pinches a little harder, making you wince. “Words, doll. Tell me how good my fingers feel.”

“G-Good, Touya. Feels good.” you admit. It wasn’t a lie. It was obvious Touya had the most sexual experience out of Tomura’s friend group, and yet, you much preferred it when Jin was touching you. He pulls you closer to him, lacing his fingers through your hair and pulling you downwards. The skin of your neck is completely exposed, he nibbles lightly on your pulse point which makes your cunt clench around nothing. He lets you go, resuming his tender rolling of your nipples. And soon, they’re leaking once again.

“Taste it.” Tomura instructs.

Touya latches on, not offering Tomura a verbal response but feeling more than comfortable to flip him off. He’s devouring your essence. It is good. He supposes he understands why Tomura can’t get enough. Shit. He can’t get enough, either. He pulls away, he isn’t breathless like Tomura, but it was certainly an awakening for him. His lips are parted, they’re decorated with speckles of white milk. The upper and lower lip are connected by a milky, webbed string. He smirks at you, pursing his lips and making kissy noises.

You know what he wants.

You lean down to kiss him. And it’s weirdly intimate. Passionate, in fact. It enrages Tomura. He tries to intervene, but Touya sharply kicks him away. He huffs and groans. He’s furious. But what can he do? It’s Jin’s turn, anyway. He’ll just have to keep getting jealous until he makes his friends leave.

“Let Jin try,” Tomura speaks. But Jin shakes his head.

“Not interested. Let me taste your tits babe!” both of his friends were confused. Two conflicting points, but they always know which voice to believe. Why didn’t he want a turn? “You guys… You’ve skeeved me out. Freaks, both of you. I don’t wanna do it.” he confesses.

“Suit yourself.” Tomura responds.

“Aw, I think Jin’s in love. Tryna take the fuckin’ high road and make us look shitty?” Touya torments.

Jin huffs, searching for his cigarettes and lighter in his jacket pocket. He nods along with Touya’s statement, anything to placate him. He doesn’t love you, obviously. He doesn’t know you. You’re just Tomura’s little sister. He thinks you’re cute, but love? Tch. In any case. As cute as he thinks you are, he isn’t going to miss out on the finale.

Jin stands to his feet, as do Tomura and Touya. The sound of three zippers coming down whirrs through your mind and sends a disgusting, unexplainable feeling through your senses. You can’t handle getting gang banged. Not today, not ever. But that isn’t what this is. Don’t you worry your slutty little head about that.

Three menacing glares were fixed on you. Glowering down at your frightened, confused form. Jin was different, like he’d become a new person. The sweet, caring whispers were a thing of the past. All three of them had removed their hardened cocks from the confines of their trousers and are pumping away.

“T-Tomura-nii?”

“Sit nicely for nii-san.” he tells you, the familiar slit of his cock looking you dead in the eye. “You’ve been a good girl for us today, so we’re going to give you our milk now.”

Tomura ordered you to stay on your knees until they were done with you. The hard, cold flooring was less than comfortable for your aching legs. It was upsetting that zero of the three men standing before you thought to offer you some comfort in the form of a couch cushion or a blanket. But you aren’t surprised. They’re only out for themselves.

“Who’s first?” Tomura questioned.

“Probably you, right? Two pump chump, fuckin’ virgin.” Touya remarks, smirking once more as he finds himself so damn amusing.

“’m not a fucking virgin anymore!” Tomura argued.

“Why is that again? Oh yeah, because you bullied your little sister into fucking you and she agreed so that you’d like her more.” Touya continued.

“Shut up, Touya.” Tomura seethed, “You go first, fucking asshole.”

It was odd, really. That they were snapping and staring at each other while they had their dicks out. It was like they were threatening each other with their erections. A standoff, almost. It was even weirder that they didn’t seem to notice it was an unusual thing to do with friends. Maybe they’ve done this before, another innocent girl in the exact same position you are. But Touya shrugged. He was happy to go first. He’s been aching for a while now, and he couldn’t wait to see what you looked like covered in his pearly white cum.

His fingers laced through your hair yet again, forcing you to look up at him. He was smiling, really smiling. A cheesy, skin crawling smile that sent fear from the tips of your ears to the edge of your tail. Touya didn’t seem to be embarrassed that he had the shortest length in comparison to his friends. It wasn’t short by any means. Easily six inches. A nice length, not too thick either. It didn’t bother him at all. He has the most experience. He has the record for girls he’s made cream themselves. The size doesn’t matter, he knows what to do with it.

The blood pumps through his cock as he continues beating his length. His eyes fluttered closed as he focuses on his impending high. Memories race through his mind of girls he’s fucked and orgasms he’s experienced. His teeth grit. God, you’re so cute. You’re better than any of them. His eyes open again, and he bites his lower lip, harsh enough to draw blood. It’s your eyes, you see. Your sweet, innocent eyes all blown to hell. It’s like you’re pleading with him to not do this to you. But he has to. He needs to.

“Gonna look so pretty, painted with my cum.” he croons. You feel slick dribble out of your sloppy cunt. If there’s one thing you like about Touya more than anyone else, it’s his voice. And now, with the way you’re squirming on the ground, he’s picked up on it. “D’ya like my voice princess? Like it when I talk dirty, and low?” he wonders. You nod.

Your eyes are watery. The way his tip leaks doesn’t go amiss, so wet and ready to cover you in his wasted kids. He feels himself getting hotter. His forehead coated in a thin, sheen layer of sweat. Inky black locks sticking down against him. He’s running out of air, out of resolve. He can’t last. He needs to give it to you.

“Gonna cum, doll. G-Gonna— Ah, oh – fuuuuuck – take it.” he growls. Watery, white sperm lands on you. It’s hot, boiling almost. It’s warmed your entire face. You feel sick when you realise he got in your hair. It seems endless. Has it been a while for the resident stud? “Thaaaat’s it. Fuck, looks so fuckin’ good babe.” he groans, forcing out the last of his release.

You feel filthy. And it’s only going to get worse, two more scumbags to go.

Tomura wants to be last, process of elimination dictates that Jin is next. He lights up another cigarette in his mouth before forcing you to look up at him. It’s erotic, somehow. It certainly makes you more aroused, seeing his cigarette latched between his lips as he jerks himself off in front of you.

He can see the adoration in your eyes, too. Fuck, maybe he does love you. It’s undeniably a sight he can get used to. You still trust him, don’t you? That’s sad. That is real sad, actually. Simply because he showed the tiniest bit of kindness to you, you’re giving him more credit than he deserves. He meant what he said, but he only said those things to make you cum.

Jin is the biggest of the three, by far. Thick and long. Veiny, too. It didn’t surprise you at all. He’s the tallest of the three and it’s easy to see he’s got the biggest build. You knew the blonde would have a monster betwixt his thighs.

The cigarette is giving away how close he is, how desperate and needy he is to cum. With each inhale, the smoke comes out of his nostrils in shaky, erratic breaths. You’re perfect. You’re perfect. Yes, you’re fucking perfect. He loves you. He loves you, has he always loved you? He doesn’t love you, yes he does! He can’t love you. He’s been through this; he doesn’t know you. But look at you. So obedient, so beautiful, so willing. You love his cock, don’t you? Better than Tomura’s and Touya’s. He’s hoping you think you might love it more than your daddy’s.

“Say you love me,” he speaks, orange embers on the tip of the cigarette flickering playfully as he talks. “say it, say it darlin’. You love my fat cock, don’t you skank?!”

“I- I-“

“Fucking say it.”

“I… I love you Jin. I love your… your…” you gulp. The little bob in your throat makes his eyes roll over white momentarily. He wants to see his cock shoved down there, he knows it’d choke you. But you’d try your best for him, wouldn’t you? You love him after all. You’d take his heavy cock down your throat. That’d prove you love him alright, if you let Jin fuck your tight li’l throat. Next time. And away from these degenerate freaks.

His cigarette almost drops from his lips, but he catches it skilfully with his teeth. The way you jump and quickly close your eyes as he shoots his cream onto you is the cutest fucking thing he’s ever seen in his whole entire life. He grunts loudly, it’s manly and so erotic. He seems older than the other two. More mature. Touya may have fucked more girls, but Jin seems more grown. He doesn’t care to argue with them when they start. He isn’t interested in comparing dick sizes and he has no desire to get into competitions over girls. He’s here to cover you in his cum, and that’s all that matters.

His head droops backwards while he orgasms. Smoke from his cigarette dances and twirls upwards towards the ceiling. His contribution to your skin is both better and worse than Touya’s. It’s thicker. You prefer thick, creamy cum over runny. Although in this instance, you can’t stand it. It already felt disgusting to have one person’s essence on your skin. And now, they’re mixing. You’re sticky and gross. And you still have one more to go.

Your dear nii-san.

And what a pretty nii-san he is. The skinniest guys always have the longest cocks. Though he was still beat in length by Jin, he had a skinnier shaft too. Each of the men above you had something different to offer, and you were more nervous than ever now it was your brother’s turn. He jerked himself off with one hand as he ruffled his hair momentarily with the other. No wonder he’s so well liked and popular. He’s just so handsome. You still couldn’t believe he was a virgin until he fucked you. How weren’t girls throwing themselves at him?

“You’ve n-never looked better.” he smiles, observing your features. “All of this cum is covering that ugly face of yours.” he taunts, Cheshire grin taking over his face as he snickers at you.

“Tomura-nii… ‘m not ugly.” you sniffle, unable to hide your hurt feelings from them. Touya laughs lazily down at you. But Jin turns away. He can’t stand to watch, to listen. But he’d never defy Tomura or challenge him. Maybe he doesn’t love you as much as he thought. It was pre-orgasm hysteria.

“You are, though.” he replies to you. “An ugly little cow. You should be grateful my friends and I are giving you the honour of our cocks. No one else will, you know. No one wants to be with a freak of nature like you.” he spits.

“P-Please, stop…” you beg. Your fat tears roll down your face and mix with the copious amounts of cum covering you already. You truly have never, ever felt so disgusting and so used. But this is what Tomura wants, you don’t realise it. But there’s something so arousing about seeing you cry.

“Aw, poor little bitch. Did nii-san upset you?” he asks, and you nod. “Good. Ugly whore. You look even uglier when you c-cry.” he stammers. Voice betraying him eventually as he climbs towards his release.

He rubs his forehead with the back of his hand, eliminating the glossy sweat that’s making his icy blue locks stick to him just as Touya’s hair had been. Tremoring fingers begin to scratch at his skin, his neck. He’s anxious suddenly. Why are you fucking looking at him like that? You know how. Like you always do. So fucking needy and upset. He yanks your right ear, and you yelp woefully.

“Open your mouth for me.”

And you do. And for some reason, that is what makes him lose it. Your willingness to please your nii-san in any way that you can. The immediate enthusiasm to open your mouth if it means it will gratify your brother. And it’s wet. Your mouth, it’s so fucking wet. Your pink muscle vibrating in your mouth as you wait for him to deposit his load inside. Spit strings between your teeth. He feels stupid now, too. Because like Jin, he wishes he’d fucked your ugly little face instead. Give you a real reason to cry. He only spurts a little into your mouth. The rest squirting across your cheeks and into your eye. It stings, fuck, it really stings. As if you needed any more of a reason to cry.

“Good girl, stupid cunt. Y’hear me? My stupid cunt, nii-san’s ugly little cow.”

They’ve all tucked themselves away now. Ready to move on and head out somewhere for more fun. They aren’t sure what could be more fun than that. They can’t wait up to meet up with Kai and tell him how badly he missed out. Tomura has forbidden you from moving from that exact spot until they’re out of the penthouse. You’re cradling your bloodshot eyes. Praying desperately that they leave quicker. You want a shower; you want an ice pack. You want to be alone.

Jin halts as Touya and Tomura enter the elevator. He explains he forgot something, and he’ll meet up with them in a few hours. He’s gotta go home and pick up some things. They shrug their shoulders and bid him farewell. Tomura has known Jin long enough now, he trusts that he won’t try and steal anything. He trusts that he’ll retrieve whatever it is he’s forgotten and get out.

But he won’t.

He won’t, because he hasn’t forgotten anything.

He approaches you. Jin crouches down on the balls of his feet and offers you a hand. He’s smiling. Not menacingly. Not with an ulterior motive. He’s just smiling, earnestly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

© 2021 fuwushiguro

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. ۫ ꣑ৎ . satoru gojo is needy and rlly likes to cum inside!!

18+ MDNI

satoru gojo is one needy, pussy drunk, fuck. he’s quite literally the ceo of not being able to shut the fuck up—especially during sex.

“babyyyyy” he whines into the glistening skin of your neck, prodding your swollen, fucked out pussy with his cock. 

this is the fourth time satoru’s pushing into you tonight, whining and muttering in your ear about how it’s just not enough. for you, one round with satoru is all it takes to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and your breathing to quicken into shallow, shaky gasps. but for him? four times? baby, this is just the start.

“s-satoru—” you gasp at the sweet stretch, feeling him fully slide in his lengthy cock. “fuck baby—s-so tight” he stutters against your skin, placing soft, wet kisses along the stretch of your neck. he’s got you trapped in his favorite position—missionary—legs pushed back, hips locked in place with nowhere to escape.

“ ‘toru please s’ too much, n-no more” you whimper pathetically—nails desperately digging into his back, as he starts moving his hips, pushing himself in n out. 

“hah baby— feel s’good—gonna fuck you s-stupid on my cock” there he goes again, drunkenly slurring his words in your ear, ignoring your stupid pleas while he mercilessly overstimulates you with his cock.

“mmm ‘toru” the moan escapes your parted lips, your shaky breath ghosting over the now red, scratched up skin of his back.

“shh—shhh baby, take it, c’mon, take it for me” he groans, pairing each word with a deep, pleading thrust. and of course you will. how could you be so heartless and deny him like that?

“g-gonna let me cum in you baby?” he whispers against the shell of your ear, his warm breath sending a warm tingle of pleasure down your spine. 

“d-didn’t you already—”

“please baby cmon—fuck you feel s-so fucking good, let me just one m-more time” he cuts you off, mumbling against your skin and fucking you at the most deliciously agonizing pace. 

too fucked out to reply, you close your eyes, giving him a light, approving nod. no matter how much you deny it, in reality, you’d do anything satoru asks.

“mm yeahhh— good girl” he replies, coating your tight wet walls in his cum, ‘just one more time’.