There Was A Time Where Oliver Aiku Used To Love Discussing His Love Life In Interviews. For Some People

there was a time where oliver aiku used to love discussing his love life in interviews. for some people all press is good press, and the reputation of being a ladies' man, called anything from a casanova to playboy to straight up rake, rarely upset him. in fact he reveled in it, delight in his mismatched eyes whenever reporters would tease out the details of his most recent rendezvous. models, actresses, the occasional influencer who gave him what she marketed on only fans for free...

he loved to discuss all of it. after all, what egotistical man shies away from discussing his conquests?

but this time, once the subject comes up of who he's been last seen in the media with, all he can think of is you, and your smile, and the loving way you've wrapped your arms around the second-highest grossing actor this year. once lauding his success and status over you, you're far out of his reach, cavorting with stars that out-league him.

he should have seen this coming. he always knew that you were beautiful, after all. even when you cried as he dumped you for easily accessible pussy, expecting that your crush on him since childhood would last for the rest of your life.

oliver breaks hearts, he doesn't get his heart broken.

"so, it seems like you continue to live up to your reputation, with no less than six prominent characters you've been entangled with recently. can you tell us what the rumors are?"

oliver smiles, palm scratching at the scruff on his chin. he remembers that you'd once told him he needed a cleaner image and that possibly started with considering at least shaving for interviews. he hasn't done that today - in fact, he hasn't done anything for you, has he?

"no comment," he jokes. "i don't kiss and tell."

the reporter, a man this time, grins in the way that men who size each other up by how wide they manspread or how big their dick is or how much money is in their pocket does. but oliver's grip on the armrests of his chair tightens. he's begging internally for the topic to change, any way to avoid digging himself into a bigger pit than he already is.

the last time he saw you in person, you were breathtaking. was it revenge that made you truly blossom or is the regret of the fact that he can no longer have you transformative?

"fuck off," you'd said, promptly, the moment you saw him standing at your door in the middle of the night. there was a time, when you were high-schoolers that you only spoke to him softly; there was a time, in your early 20s, where he could simply smile sheepishly at you, pushing shaggy hair back and you'd believe anything he said.

"aren't you happy i came to you first this time?" he'd been quick to answer. the joke doesn't land, and for the first time in forever, you don't even crack a smile.

he remembers telling you he had options, and realizing that in truth, you were always the one who could aim higher.

"you can do better," you remind him of his own words. your face is still made up, you're back from a photoshoot. your career soars and his stays stagnant. he's trying his best, he's not lacking in skill, but for now your star shines far brighter.

he didn't tell you then, couldn't bring his mouth to utter the words, but it's not true.

he cannot do better than you.

oliver grins, and pushes the thought of you out of his mind.

oliver, the man who cannot fall in love, gives the public what they want.

corruption kink with Oliver Aiku please. this man makes me feel things and I want him to ruin me 😭😭

Hold on Tight

FEATURING; Oliver Aiku xfem!reader

TAGS; NSFW/DARK CONTENT. MDNI! implied virgin!reader. size kink. dirty talk. mating press. pussyjob (?). nicknames(pretty). Overstim.

WORDCOUNT; 0.7 k

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!

"You wanna do this?"

He inquired as he hovered above you, heavy cock head tapping against your exposed cunt for good measure.

He couldn't hide his sly smile as you looked up at him innocently, eagerly nodding your head, thighs twitching as his cock made contact with your sensitive bundle of nerves. "So cute."

There was something about ruining your innocent self and naive attitude. He was thrilled for this moment - have you underneath him and at his mercy as he wrecks you and your little pussy, having you moan out his name in utter pleasure.

Now that he had you before him, about to fulfill his deepest desires, he wished to just slam into you right away, but - he had to treat you first - prepare you for what was about to come.

"Cute little cunt," he mumbled to himself as his eyes fixated on his cock gliding along your glistening heat, his pre and your arousal mixing, serving as lube. "All mine."

His eyes snapped up to your face as he caught a whine from you, free hand coming up to catch your chin in his hold, leaning down to place a messy kiss on your lips, his tip prodding at your entrance. "Gonna make you feel real good, yeah?"

It was lewd and a truly filthy sight - the way his massive girth bullied its way past your fluttering folds, hushing your mewls in a cooing manner by peppering your face in kisses, not missing the way your face twisted at his size.

The aching feeling of his cock stretching you out was like an uncomfortable string, causing tears to gather at the corner of your eyes. "Shhh, it'll be gone soon, pretty." You desperately grab onto his shoulders, clawing your nails into them as he began to move, a painful croak leaving your lips.

He on the other hand had to gather his last strength to not snap his hips against your vigorously, drinking up every sound you had in store for him. So, being the impatient man he was, his fingers came down to latch onto your bud, head falling into the crook of your neck to decorate it with lovemarks.

Once your demeanor relaxed and your sounds grew in volume, your hips bucking up into his slow thrust in need, his eyes glanced up to your face in curiosity, a smirk adoring his handsome features. "See? I told you I'll make you feel good. Just gotta trust me." He straightened his back, throwing your leg over his shoulder, grunting as your tight walls suck him in even further, "Do you trust me?"

Once you gave him a reassuring nod, his eyes were drenched in desire and lust, hips eagerly snapping against yours, moans and grunts spilling from his lips.

"Gonna mold this tight cunt for my dick." You let out a strangled moan as he folded both of your legs up to either side of your head, his cock now drilling even deeper inside of you, pelvic bone stimulating your clit each time your hips met.

His eyes shamelessly gawked at the way his dick disappeared inside of you, his tip visibly pocking your tummy. Eyes snapping up to yours, a loud moan escaped him at your ruined form - hair disheveled with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, cheeks stained with tears of pleasure and spit painting your mouth and chin. "Look at you,"

He lightly patted your cheek in a mocking manner, only earning a sob in return. "pretty went dumb on my cock already." His words were accompanied by a sharp thrust, your walls clasping down onto him as you gushed around his cock, a silent scream leaving your lips, your juices spurting on him, his eyes glistening in adoration. "Just like that, cum 'round my dick, pretty."

You were barely able to register what he was talking about, mind clouded by your euphoric high, pants leaving your lips once you felt his body weight on you, a yelp escaping you as he reached even deeper into your insides now, desperately clinging to his back. "Oli', cant. Too much, too much."

He chuckled in return, close to burst out into his high himself. "Just a little longer, pretty," his head came down to lick off a tear that rolled down your cheek,

"Gotta fuck you up a little more."

©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

I couldn't let it go. I just couldn't. Part 2 @dufferpuffer take it and have it and love it please. All Hail The Worm 🫡 (2,518 word count).

🪱🐛🍎

Toshinori x Reader - Tired

One night you're sitting on the couch with him, your legs draped over his lap. Dawning one of his shirts, you leaned into him with a hand up his button-down, tracing lazy patterns on his scar, up his skin to a nipple and back down. He shudders the way he always does and feels your sweet, breathy giggles come out in puffs against his neck where you were lavishing him with kisses and light nips. You always found a way to be near him at home. Cuddling, kissing, holding - there was never a moment you weren't showering him with attention, much to his appreciation.

He was tired that evening. He was tired most evenings. Between Izuku and Bakugo, his classes, hero work and the press, his public image, basic upkeep - God, it was getting harder and harder to keep up with it all. And he hated that. It ate at him like a tick he couldn't shake. When did it all get so difficult? So tedious? Little things drained him now. His very bones ached after a hands-on lesson at UA, or a well-matched brawl with a villain in the street. You knew of his worries well, and didn't mind holding off until he was in a better mindset. Not one bit. This moment's only goal was to make him feel good and maybe make sure you still knew all his sweet spots. But he didn't want to keep making you wait. As much as he adored the sweet ways you showed affection, he wanted to show you his.

He was always loving, always doting on you one way or another. At least a couple of times a month you would look forward to whatever surprise he'd leave in the bottom drawer of your desk in the faculty rooms. He'd play with your hair and gently scratch your scalp at night when sleep evaded you. You never ran out of chapstick - there'd be another one hidden under some papers in your bag whenever it dawned that you'd forgotten to restock. It truly was the little things, and you loved him all the more for it. He didn't doubt that for a second.

And yet Toshinori only saw his shortcomings as of late. Sleeping in more on off days wasn't like him; neither was leaving you wanting. He didn't want to give you just enough. He wanted to leave you breathless.

"C'mere," he'd pat his lap and you'd smile, moving to throw a leg over and straddle him just to feel Toshi gently grab your hips to a halt. "Ah, sorry - other way." He said.

"Other way?" You asked, nonetheless content to do so as he watched with such affection.

His big hands found their way forward to your thighs, kneading the malleable flesh there, his mouth on your back to breathe you in and leave a trail of kisses halfway down your spine. A shudder left your lips as you sat there while he pulled the back of the shirt down to lavish your skin in those languid kisses. He knew what he was doing, putting you where you couldn't reciprocate so he could spoil your body with each touch.

Then his hands retracted, much to your disappointment, but only to fumble with his belt buckle and free the erection that fought against the fabric's restraints while you pouted at the momentary loss of touch.

"Yagi?" You turned your head back with curiosity, his face lifting against your cheek for a few light kisses that conveniently blocked your view.

"Sit still, Pretty." He said firmly.

His length pressed flat against your backside and you smirked. Yagi was a pleaser, and a good one at that. Used to, you'd loathe the idea of letting him run you through the wringer without doing anything in return, but now you'd came to know his habits well. When he was in a mood or in his own head again, Toshinori needed to prove he was still everything you needed and more, regardless of your thoughts on the matter.

Fuck the hero title. Yagi strove to be your number one.

In a puff of smoke and a rise that startled a quickly muttered curse out of you, he was holding you up by the backs of your thighs, your back pressed firmly against his chest that was now much larger and more toned than before. Your hands rushed to grab onto anything that might help steady yourself. They landed on his forearms. One touch to his skin and you already knew.

"Why this form?" You turned and asked him after getting it together, though your thoughts were a mess due to the way his lips planted kiss after kiss against your skin. It wasn't like you minded. He was good in both forms, the only notable difference being his stamina.

He kissed your shoulder, his tongue gliding across soft skin like he could taste you. "Wanna have you.." He kissed your neck next. ".. just like this.." Then your ear, letting out a breath that had you shivering in his hold. And he felt it. He was holding you up - of course he felt it. If he tried hard enough, focused fof long enough, he probably could've felt your heartbeat where his hands hooked under both legs.

He turned you both until you could catch a glimpse of yourself in a mirror across the living room. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he saw how red your face was. In nothing but one of his shirts and your underwear, it was a sight he'd seen around the apartment more often than not, but seeing it like this, with his hard cock raised between your legs, pressing against your clothed heat with a wet spot forming... He needed you. Now.

"Toshi..." You mumbled with anticipation, hands reaching up and back to grab behind his neck as he held you in one hand long enough to move your panties to the side and line up.

"Yeah, Pretty?" He asked oh so sweetly, as if he didn't know exactly what he was doing to you right now.

His muscle form was bigger, yes, and all the rumors of a size difference were true. He was already packing a solid nine inches, able to reach that deep spot you liked no problem, but his muscle form added extra girth that had you fumbling over your words most nights he brought it out.

Now was no exception. You were tongue tied, left speechless by his demeanor and the pillow nicknames just as you were every other time.

One look at his cock underneath where he hugged your frame and you were letting out this shaky breath he recognized as a green light.

"Let me hear those sounds you like to make for me, okay?" He asked of you. It was the only thing you had to do for Yagi tonight - let yourself go and moan. Easy peasy.

A nod confirmed what he already knew, and then he was rolling his hips upward, slowly, pulling back every few seconds to coat himself in your juices and then push a little deeper. Having your legs so far apart certainly made it easier, but he had always been big compared to you. The adjustment took a second each time.

You let out a sigh, rubbing his neck with one hand as he inched his way into you.

"S'good," you mumbled yet again. He pulled back again, only pushing the head back in. He smiled sweetly at your comment and adjusted you both one more time just to make sure his grip was secure. "You ready?" He whispered.

"Mhm." You voice came out breathy. Lacking and wanting sounded like a good mix for you, he realized.

This time he started thrusting, feeling you tense up in his arms as he went on and buried his nose into your hair, light nips at the very dip of your neck sending shivers up your spine. Toshi loved fucking you like this, having you at his mercy and unable to move on your own yet still treating you like a princess.

His princess.

You could feel it all, and something about him having an angle to see your front from the mirror made it all the better. He watched your reactions as he fucked you, felt for anything that might let him know which direction to take things, pleased to see that trademark blush underneath closed eyes and brows that furrowed together in silent pleasure.

Silence that didn't last very long.

He went deeper, enough to start bottoming out, and kept a medium tempo, trying to keep that dazed, pleasured look on your face from where he stood in the mirror. His grip on your legs tightened, and he started to snap his hips at the end of each rut just to hit your gspot the way he knew you to like. Your head fell back against his shoulders and you moaned softly with each thrust, feeling Toshi's chest heave against your back, his hands gripping you tight enough to leave bruises, a light sheen of sweat gracing his forehead. It would be so easy for him to lift you up higher right now, to bring you back down on him over and over like a toy to get him off - believe him, the temptation was ever-present in moments like these when you were in his arms with no way out, whimpering against his neck as he drove into you.

Toshi was so good to you, never leaving you wanting even if it wore him out. In the mirror you could look up and see the image of you both fucking, his cock sliding in and out of your hole with wet, squelching sounds that made it impossible not to feel dirty in the best, most deliciously vulgar way imaginable. All Might, the number one hero, the symbol of Peace, such a sweet, sweet man loved by all, and here he was making his lover's legs shake and her voice quiver as he fucked her stupid in the middle of their living room. He had ahold of you like you might disappear, your knees somehow closer to your shoulder than anything else, juices running down bare skin and soaking into your underwear and his pants.

With a glance in the mirror you could see his face. He was smiling, but not naturally. This one was his hero smile, the one he wore in his All Might form without thinking, the one that put others at ease in his presence, the one that told all of Japan it'd be alright.

Bad habits die hard, you knew well.

You reached up to grab his chin and pulled it toward you, planting your lips against his to get rid of that practiced nonsense, to greedily take in the groan he let slip. He thrusts stuttered for a second. It was surprising, but he liked it, and was back to fucking you right away. His tongue sought access you offered willingly, letting him in for a sloppy, half-minded makeout as your focuses remained on the sex. He went harder yet and you shuddered against his mouth in response, a reaction that drew a real chuckle from Toshinori.

"You want more, Gorgeous?" He asked between light panting, speeding up before you had the chance to answer. "You wanna cum all messy on me?"

You moaned on his tongue, your walls tightening around him with each thrust as a reflex, your body craving anything he could possibly give you. A hand snaked up to gently tug at his hair when he nipped at your upper lip. He chuckled and did it again and fingers tangled in his soft blonde locks.

"m.. yes, yes," you whimpered, "god... fuck, All Might.."

The man couldn't help but moan low against your soft lips. There was something so.. taboo about calling him that during sex. Like it wasn't supposed to be done, or it tainted the name in a way only you two knew. His cock twitched in you when you did it, much to your enjoyment.

When you were sure you were close, you tried to reach down and rub your clit, but he wasn't having that at all. For a moment, he moved to hold both of your legs in one large arm, never once slowing his thrusts as he moved your hand away.

"Eh- No, Pretty, I got it." He grunted softly, abandoning your lips to look in the mirror. You briefly wondered what for before those big fingers of his dared to touch your clit, even more so to circle the sensitive nub while he continued to rut into your heat. You has a perfect view of one another in that glass - the reflection of which you could see old handprints from your other sexual encounters with Yagi. But he hadn't done anything like this before. It was hard to breathe. Your mind was running a mile minute and you could swear he felt exactly what he was doing to you because those rut ups of his were perfectly time with jerks and spasms that gave you away, physically speaking.

Another moan had him going harder, faster, enough to make you cry out in earnest as you came undone on his cock, squeezing him in slow, intense tandems, your body demanding his follow suit. He had no complaints about this, his knees shaking only enough for you to notice before he jerked a time or two more, grunting deeply against your ear as he gave you a creampie to remember. The evidence ran down your slit, making a mess of your pussy and his balls until it dripped onto the floor between his dress shoes. Slowly he pulled you off him with a mutual shudder and sat you both back down on the couch. You sat facing forward on his lap still, his pants now sticky and wet under where you sat, the notable difference being how you leaned back to catch your breath, or at least try to. He was spent, panting behind you, but happy so long as you were, too. His hand came up to wrap around your forehead and pull you back to lean on him, drawing a breathy giggle from his lover as she accepted the shoulder with a hand on his wrist.

"Not that I'd ever complain about such... doting behavior from you," You began on a mumble with the tiniest little grin, settling into the side of his lap without disturbing his softening length, "but what brought that on?"

He sighed and kissed your cheek, then your lips and back again, pulling your head down on his shoulder once more after you'd gotten comfortable. His hand stayed there, coming through now messy hair, his nostrils taking in the subtle scent of sex coming from below him. He didn't mind it at all, not if it meant pleasing you so thoroughly. If anything, it brought a smile to his face.

A real one, too.

".. I just thought we could both use it." He replied.

Hello, if im not bothering you can you write about oliver aiku? I love him sm

good cop, bad cop.

oliver aiku x fem reader oliver has a thing for play pretend. warning(s): nsfw, corrupt cop x criminal dynamic, roleplay, blowjob, sexual transaction minors do not interact.

“officer, i know i’ve been a baaaaaad girl,” your words roll off of your tongue in buttery waves, your voice hiking up a faux pitch. “but do you really have to punish me? i didn’t even misbehave that much…”

once in a blue moon, you have to admit that your dear boyfriend could come up with not-so-bad ideas. his brain only ever works when either sex or soccer are involved, but you’d be damned if his ideas weren’t good. they might be a bit basic, but you’d also be lying if you said that dressing up and doing a little lewd roleplay didn’t get you excited too.

the slutty prisoner costume he got for you is a bit tight against your body, but the stretchy material clings to your skin and makes it so that you can’t hide any of your curves from oliver’s wandering eyes. you couldn’t even get the zipper on the chest to go over your breasts fully, so you gave up, letting your tits almost tumble out of the whorish costume. it wasn’t like they’d stay covered up that long anyway, and you decided it was better to spare yourself the trouble of struggling to get it up all the way. a pair of plastic handcuffs clink against one of your wrists, hanging limply from your arm.

“shit… y’know how things are.” your boyfriend shrugs. his own costume is a cheap imitation of a police officer. it’s also a bit too small for his tall and built body, but just like you, he hasn’t bothered buttoning his shirt up all the way. his broad chest peeks through the undone front, and a sloppily done tie swings from his collar. a sloppy smile decorates his lips, and he tips up his hat a bit to get a better glimpse at you. “the law is the law, girlie. it wouldn’t be fair for me to let you off without punishment just ‘cuz you’re pretty.”

you pout, and you saunter a bit closer to oliver. you stick your lips out, making sure his eyes catch over the plump flesh of your mouth. you flutter your eyelashes coyly at him. “you think i’m pretty, officer? c’mon… surely there has to be something i can do to get out of trouble. i’d do anything, sir. anything.”

a twinge of warm pride flickers inside your chest. you think you’re doing a pretty good job at playing the role of the minx-like prisoner, willing to seduce your way out of trouble. oliver leans back in his seat, enough to make the front legs lift off the ground for a few moments. he pretends to mull it over, and he rubs at his eyes with one of his big hands. he’s also good at playing the role of the sleazy cop, pretending as if he’s split between choosing his vices or his honor, and you watch him with bated breath.

“anything, you say? can i hold you to that?” he laughs bitterly. he sits forward, letting the chair fall back onto the ground with a loud ‘thump.’ you swallow thickly.  the two of you both know how this roleplay is going to end, but you still want to appreciate the finer details in it. 

his mismatched eyes are honed onto your face. he had been mentally undressing you with his gaze for a long time now, the boyish glee in his eyes telling you that he was eating up your appearance. but now, that gleam in his eyes feels darker, more wanton, almost as if he’s placing the ball back into your court. 

the choice is for you to make.

you rub your thighs together exaggeratedly, and you lick your lips. you nod, bobbing your head up and down eagerly. your tits bounce alongside with your movement. “yes, officer! i mean it. i would do anything.”

your mouth waters in anticipation as oliver clicks his tongue, and the sloppy grin that appears on his lips only means one thing. he spreads his legs slightly, and with one hand, he starts to undo the belt buckle around his waist. with a few metallic clinks, it slides out of his hand and off of his body, landing on the ground without much fanfare. he gestures in between his legs, patting the inside of thighs.

“you know what to do. on your knees, sweetheart,” he purrs. you walk closer to him, sauntering over and making sure he gets a good look at your standing form. you sink down to your knees, and you sensually slide your hands up oliver’s thighs. a low groan bubbles up from the back of his throat, catching on his teeth as he lets out a deep exhale.

he has a perfect view of your tits from where he leans back, and he happily ogles at your chest. your hands ghost over his clothed crotch, humming to yourself when your fingers rub provocatively against the visible bulge. leave it to him to get this horny in an instant, and your cunt clenches weakly at the thought of his heavy, hung cock. oliver groans quietly when you continue to rub him through his police officer costume, but he doesn’t rush you. 

“shit, pretty girl… are you teasin’ me right now? you’ve got some nerve,” he chuckles. you smile up at him innocently, and you move your face closer to his tent. you place your cheek against his covered cock, and you coyly rub your face all over his dick. oliver throws his head back and lets out a moan, his breathing turning shallow as he dissolves into a fit of airy laughter.

but you know better than to let the control get to your head. after all, you’re nobody but a desperate inmate who needs a way out, and the best way to do that is to seduce the hedonistic officer in front of you and be on your merry way. you grip the zippers of his pants and carefully coax it down, making sure to take your time so that you could drive the man in front of you even crazier with desire.

his cock strains heavily against his boxers, practically begging to be freed and pleasured. your eyes widen with glee when you see how hot and big it is just for you. your core twists with arousal knowing that you can get him acting up in this way, and you continue to stroke him through his underwear.

“are you this hard already, officer?” you giggle, feeling his dick twitch through the thin fabric of his boxers. a small damp stain marks where his tip is, and you slip your fingertips under the waistline of his underwear. you don’t take his cock out just yet, and you trace a heart pattern into the skin of his waist, feeling his muscles and abs contract underneath your hands. “do you want me that badly, sir? my, i’m kind of flattered…”

“hah… i wouldn’t take it as a compliment just yet, sugar,” he breathes. his chest rises and falls, and he lifts his hand to tap his pointer finger against your cheek. “you haven’t even gotten started yet.”

“oh, i will, sir. i’m only taking my time. i’m not gonna be sloppy, especially if you’re doing me a favor.” your voice is sugary sweet, pitched into a girlish sing-songy tone that you know he loves. “nothing but the best for you, right?”

he gives a snort, and he nods in faux defeat. “‘m not one to argue with a pretty girl. work your magic then.”

you eagerly yank down the front of his boxers, and you guide his fully erect cock out into plain view. oliver hisses through his gritted teeth, sucking in a sharp inhale as the cool air hits his throbbing, hot length. you waste no time, and you purse your lips as you watch his dick twitch and spring to full length, the sheer girth and size making your stomach flip inside and out. gosh, oliver really did look like he was a sculpture of a greek god come to life.

you spit into your palms, lubricating your skin. you grip the base of his cock with both hands, and you lean in, blowing a gust of cold air against the sensitive tip. oliver gasps, his hips unconsciously bucking against your palm. 

“...fuck! fucking hell—you’re really testing me, girlie,” he mutters, the seedy grin on his mouth only widening. “man, i know you’re trying to get yourself out of a mess, but you’re really going to get in trouble for acting like that.”

“i know, sir. but i can’t help it. it’s just soooo much fun!” you giggle. you start stroking him with a steady but slow pace, making sure you cop a good feel of his mouth-watering size. you let one hand slide all the way to the top of his dick. you rub your palms down on his cockhead, and oliver stiffens under your touch, another guttural groan spilling from his lips. you continue jerking him off, letting your fingers rub all over his sensitive underside and over any prominent veins, and you don’t let your eyes wander from his face for even an instant.

you want to relish the little power you hold over him. you love seeing his expressions change, fully relinquishing himself to the feeling of your smaller hands wrapped around his big cock, enjoying the perverted feeling of playing such a corrupt role and taking advantage of his position to have his way with a girl as precious as you.

“do you like how i feel, sir?” you goad him slightly, picking up the pace. you’re pumping your hands up and down at a fairly moderate pace, and you squeeze him whenever your hands hit the base of his cock. you do your best to mimic the way your own cunt would feel when it’d be wrapped around him, trying to bring him closer and closer to his climax. his balls clench up when he feels your soft hands milking him. he feels so awfully selfish, but that kind of desperate guilt makes your handjob feel so much better.

 “yeah… feels great. but-,” his chest heaves, but before you can get too comfortable, he sits up slightly. he grabs the top of your head with just one hand, and he guides your face towards his heady cock. your eyes widen when he positions you to be perfectly eye level with his drooling slit, your hands frozen around his thick inches.

his tongue darts out from his mouth, and he drags it over his lips. he nudges you closer towards his cock, just until his tip presses up against your mouth, threatening to break past your lips. “-i feel like we can do a bit better than that.”

it doesn’t take a genius for you to figure out what exactly oliver wants. you part your lips and let your tongue out, and you lick tentatively at his tip. lavishing his cockhead with small, kitten licks, you gaze up at him with your eyes blown wide open. his grip on your hair tightens, but he doesn’t force you to take more of his cock in your mouth. you regain a bit of your courage, and you follow the heat that throbs in between your hips. 

“yeah, that’s it… use that naughty mouth of yours,” oliver urges you. you start pumping his cock again, and you take more of him into your mouth, letting the broad part of your tongue envelop his tip. you lick at his slit, pressing your tongue against it and moaning quietly when you can feel the taste of his pre-cum spread across your tastebuds. it’s salty and noxious against your mouth, yet it makes your head spin with desire. he’s just so manly, and feeling his cock pushing and straining against your mouth does something to your body. 

you close your lips around his width, and moving your hands in tandem, you start to suck on the top part of his cock. you swirl your tongue around his length, making sure to generously coat his sensitive organ with your spit. you want your mouth to be everything oliver likes: warm, tight, and wet, just like your tight pussy. oliver keeps moaning, and his noises urge you to keep going. you want him to feel good. he’ll definitely make it worth your while if you do.

“shit, fuck- fuuuuuck- yeah, right there, pretty-,” he groans. you whimper when he tugs at your hair. the sting makes your eyes tremble, but you hold your ground and take more of him in your mouth. you swear you’ve only put about half of his cock into your cheeks, and yet you can feel him easily hitting the back of your throat. you pump the rest of him with your hands, working in rhythm to stimulate the feeling of thrusting into you. 

he laughs again, his voice hoarse. you shift your hips, suddenly aware of how empty your cunt feels. you want his thick rod ramming into your walls. you want his cock to fuck your brains out.

“y’know, if the whole ‘sleep your way out of prison’ thing doesn’t work, i really wouldn’t mind having a thing like you around- god knows i could use blowjobs like these more often…” he tries to shove your face down a bit further, and you clench your eyes shut as your hands shift, inviting more of his dick into your tight mouth. 

you’re being so sweet and obedient to him. your breathing is constricting, and you have no choice but to fully focus on regulating your airflow through your nose. you hollow out your cheeks. he’s starting to invade your throat, and it takes everything in you not to gag on his cock. you want to treat him well, to make him proud, to show him that you can take it.

he whistles softly, guiding your face with your hair to set up the rhythm that he likes. “there we go. there’s my pretty girl. keep up with me, yeah?”

your mouth feels fucking heavenly around him. you’re clearly struggling, torn between picking your own comfort or pleasuring him, and it makes oliver go wild. his stomach swirls and pounds with arousal, and he keeps clenching his abs, fully savoring the lewd feeling of your tongue and mouth drooling around him. he could get this scene tattooed on him somewhere, to show you off on his body forever. your throat won’t stop constricting around his girth, and every time you shakily swallow, it’s like you’re sucking him in even further.

his hips wantonly thrust against your shaking hands and mouth, and you choke around him. strings of drool escape the corner of your mouth, your jaw locking place as you struggle to accommodate entirely to his obscene size. lewd squelching fill your ears as oliver fucks your mouth, and in your own confused stupor, you still manage to do your best for him. you sloppily slide your tongue all over his cock, sucking and drinking up everything he’s willing to give you like it’s a sugary aphrodisiac. 

all of your senses are forcibly overwhelmed by him, and you love it. what little resistance your hands can put up against him yanking you down towards his crotch and him thrusting into you does nothing to spare you. he grits his teeth, grunting more like an animal than a human, as he fucks your mouth. his pace picks up quickly, and he’s beginning to manhandle you.

“hah- take it all into your mouth, pretty. don’t be fucking shy- i know what you’re capable of. show this bad cop here how desperate you are, wont’cha? yeah—lemme break in that throat of yours, teach you how to suck cock properly-,” his eyes glimmer with a kind of feral possessiveness that makes you shiver with heat, “that way you can actually learn how to pleasure a man. that brings me to two favors for you, doesn’t it?”

you let go of his cock, pushing against his hips as he bucks wildly into your mouth. hot tears cling to your eyelashes, threatening to spill over your waterline. you must look so, so crazy right now, with your hair all disheveled and your face crumpling to the sexual whims of your boyfriend. the affection that brews in his eyes is tinged with something poisonous and addictive, and it makes you salivate even more than you already are. 

his cockhead continues pounding into the back of your throat, making all of your senses recoil and grimace. but you want him to keep going, to force the shape of your esophagus into that of his cock, to exist for nothing but him. it’s a bit simple and a bit foolish, but stupidity be damned, it was hot.

his balls keep pressing up against your chin, and his pubes tickle your nose. he’s gripping onto your hair for dear life, maneuvering you more like you were a sex toy than a girlfriend, and the wild and sloppy pace has you seeing stars. his cock won’t quit twitching and burying itself as deep as it can into your mouth. 

“fuck- fuck…! jesus fucking christ, fucking god-,” his grip on you is blindinly painful, but you like it. the pain grounds you as he abuses your throat. “gonna fucking cum, princess- you’re gonna swallow it all, you hear? yeah, guzzle down all of my cum, swallow it like you can’t live without it.”

so he’s close. you brace yourself, his full balls smacking against your mouth and chin, stained with drool and precum and all the other nasty things he’s doing to you. you’ve lost your ability to think properly a long time ago, your thoughts clouded over with just oliver. your cunt beats with pleasure at the idea of drinking down his cum, the cum that should have been filling up your empty pussy instead. but this isn’t too bad; it’s still all yours for the taking. you can work with that. 

“yeah- swallow it all, you bad, bad girl-!” 

his cock convulses deep against the confines of your gullet, and you nearly choke when you feel the spurts of hot, sticky cum filling up your throat and windpipe. you get to work trying to gulp it down, feeling it invade and force itself down your esophagus while coating the insides of your cheeks. you swallow and swallow the best you can, feeling the loss of air getting to your head. cum seeps out from your stretched lips, and it spills down your exposed chest, pooling in your lap and staining your glistening tits.

oliver weakly lets you go, collapsing with a huff back into his seat. you slump over yourself, barely grounding yourself. oxygen finally floods your deprived lungs, and you cough ungracefully as you take in shaky inhales. you wipe half-hazardly at your face, trying to clear it of the tears, snot, spit, and semen all over your lips and chin. your vision is blurry, but you know it’ll come back to you soon so you stay put as you are.

“oh fuck…! are you alright?” oliver’s gentle voice breaks you of your thoughts. he’s the first to break character. 

you lift your head, seeing your boyfriend sitting up from his half-laying-half-seated position on his chair. he looks spent; his police officer costume is also stained with cum, and his softening cock lays limply across his crotch. sweat dots his brow. his features are far gone, still hazy from his climax, yet they hold the same boyish affection he reserves only for you.

you swallow again, your stomach swirling dangerously when you continue to taste his sticky cum coating your tongue. “i’ll live. you’ve been rougher with me before.”

he raises an eyebrow, and he wolf-whistles at you. you scoff at him, but you don’t stop the smile that blossoms on your fucked-out face. leave it to him to make you laugh like that right after fucking your face without any regards to your well-being. the duality makes you weak in the knees, and if you had the stamina for it, you’d suck his dick like that again in a heartbeat. 

“so, I take that to mean that you’re still up for some more?” as if he read your mind, he offers up a suggestion to you. you wipe at the cum that’s starting to dry on your chest, shooting him a curious look.

you could do one of two things. you could nip this in the bud right here and now, end this roleplay session and go clean yourself up in the bathroom. you could ask your boyfriend to open up his wallet for you and order you some nice take-out for the night, and you could turn on a sappy romance movie on the tv and cuddle up with him for a laidback date night. your tired mouth muscles rejoice at the thought of it, and your heart swells with affection.

but that’s so fucking boring—your entire lower half of your body, the part that crawls and writhes and demands relief from the arousal you’ve been ignring this whole time, would never be satisfied with an easy alternative. you want to be ravished, want this corrupt officer to take advantage of the prisoner that’s running out of options, to mold your body against the needs of your boyfriend.

“why, officer?” you quip back. the title makes oliver’s grin stretch even wider, clearly thrilled that you’re willing to play along. you make a show of licking your lips again, to lap up any of his cum that you might have missed. “was that not enough for you? should i try something else? jeez, wasn’t a pretty girl giving you a blowjob enough to convince you? …ugh, fine. tell me what you want me to do.”

“feeling a bit feisty still, eh? i could work with that—yeah, a little more lovin’ would be really nice,” he whispers. his features are clouded over with a newfound lust towards you. he gestures for you to move in closer, and you scoot towards him, letting him lean down and cup your face. he hooks his fingers underneath your soiled chin, tilting your face up so that your gaze locks with his. you hold your breath as he makes sure you can’t look away or even escape from him. you muster up the best doe-like eyes you can, softening your gaze and making yourself more inviting that you already are, only for him. your boyfriend simply lets out a throaty chuckle, “so that’s one hole down, sugar. whaddya say about letting mr. bad cop have a try at the other ones?”

KINKTOBER 2023—le premier jour.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you always knew oliver aiku was a bad influence. but just how bad, exactly? let's just say that if your parents ever looked out the window and happened to peep inside oliver's idle sports car, someone is about to get murdered tonight.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you're now reading . . . 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 + 𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐗 with oliver aiku

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── fem!reader, perv!oliver, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, sex in a car, fwb!oliver, repressed feelings, oliver is a jackass, language

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── for the anons who once asked me many moons ago abt oliver corrupting us—this one's for you 🖤

⇤flip back to the pervtober masterlist

“Oli, we can’t do this.”

Your whimpers were lost in the scruff of his neck, a breathy moan released from the tight confines of your lips into the heat of his Porsche’s interior. 

“Mhm.” 

Honestly, if it wasn't for a soft spot you had for Oliver Aiku, you would've stabbed him.

Many men tried to get you in this position, but they could never succeed. 

You were a headstrong woman; tenacious, a hard worker and a corporate climber through and through. You had dated boys who thought the peak of communication was Snapchat streaks and “you up?” texts. But, you had never dated a man like Oliver.

In your defence, ‘dated’ seemed to be a stretch. 

Oliver was a wild ride for sure. 

Tall, handsome, pockets lined full with a pro-athlete salary, he was every girl's wet dream. 

After years in the media industry, you learned to differentiate the bad apples and genuinely lost ones. You have encountered influencers, moguls and celebrities under the scrutiny of your analytical and roaming eye. However, Oliver was an enigma to you. 

Though friendly and approachable to everyone else, you couldn’t help but feel there was a part of him he tried to hide from the world. A part which shredded through football fields and tore men’s hopes and dreams from their white-knuckled clutches. 

Many people had been destroyed by Oliver’s sheer force, both on the field and off of it if his playboy status was anything to go by. And you would be damned if you were going to be one of them. 

“Oli,” you muttered, a little firmer this time. 

The rough strip of his tongue teased your sensitive earlobe and you hissed, flinching from the sudden stimulation. 

“Oliver.” 

“What?” 

He sounded a little pissed off. You may be younger than the girls he was used to, but you were experienced enough from your years networking under intense strain and pressure to figure out when you were on the losing end of a potential relationship. 

With Oliver, it was a constant push and pull. As you moved forward, he pulled back. And for whatever reason, when he decided to reach out, you would hesitate to let him back in.

Anyone would decide that such a relationship—if it could be even called that—was doomed from the beginning.

But, Oliver and you never did have a conventional relationship. 

He saw you as a plaything, and you regarded him as a little bit of fun to unwind after a hectic week. It was a mutual agreement based on a sudden spark of crazy chemistry which neither of you wanted to solidify. 

Those large, rough hands which were used to causing destruction on the field, were parting your thighs softly, reaching for the soft promise of pleasure in between them.

In other circumstances, you would let Oliver have his way with you. But today, you were determined to put up a flimsy boundary—one he was desperate to break. 

“Oliver, my house is just a few feet away.” 

True to your words, the place you rested your head for every night was in the form of your parent’s modest two storey home right in the heart of downtown Tokyo. 

Lace curtains iced its domestic eggshell white walls, keeping you safe in the veil of night and away from prying eyes. But, the thrill laid in the fact that anyone who pulled apart those flimsy curtains could catch a look of you in such a compromising position. The engine of his idle car thrummed underneath your thighs, and you wished you had worn a longer skirt to combat his straying touches. 

If there was one thing Oliver reminded you of, it was a hurricane. His determination and stubbornness pushed him to where he was today—rising high in the world's eye. 

It was one of the traits you admire about him—and one which would change your morals forever. 

“I can’t,” you murmured in a cross between a hitched breath and a soft moan. “Oliver—”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head off. Just let me feel you.”

Those unique dual-tone eyes flashed sincerely under the waning street lamp light. There were times when Oliver’s simple touches and presence could push out the nagging thoughts in your mind, and there were instances when it drew up red flags in your periphery like a race day warning. 

Like speeding down the highway without a seatbelt on, you were sure kissing someone else would never be as enthralling as kissing Oliver Aiku. 

The scruff of his sparse five-o-clock shadow and moustache rubbed on the soft skin of your chin. You tasted the beer he drank for dinner, and a little bit of your own fruity lip gloss in between the curls of his tongue. 

Everything about Oliver was enticing; how he kissed, how he fucked, how he made you feel like you were the only girl in his world when you knew that was the furthest from the reality. He was also attentive when he wasn’t a huge prick. Out of the men you fooled around with, Oliver remembered exactly what you liked and he wasn’t afraid to push those lines. 

His hand was between your thighs again, this time pushing your skirt up inch by agonising inch. You didn’t fight him, too dizzy and weak with lust. He used two thick fingers to pry apart the seat of your panties, already sticky with arousal and ready for the taking. 

“So perfect,” he whispered into your neck. “How're you so perfect for me?” 

Over time, you had to tell yourself it was just words from a man who wanted to lure you into bed and they didn’t mean a thing.

But sometimes, you forgot. You forgot that this wasn’t real, that Oliver doesn’t actually love you. 

It didn’t help that his kisses felt like coming home at the end of a hard day; though already complicated as it was, whatever emotion you both harboured for each other could never be said out loud. 

He tipped your head towards him again, to catch your lips in a languid, teasing kiss that was more tongue than lips. The taste of him sent a thrill down your spine, settling right into your core. 

“Can I feel you, baby? Can I touch you here?” He stroked the soft flesh of your inner thigh with his thumb, locking eyes with you in the half-light. 

They brought you down a spiral; into a light purple and a hazel green tide which tried to rip apart your resolve. 

You were half out of your mind when you nodded, giving your consent with a shaky little sigh. 

He immediately pounced onto that opportunity like a panther to your jugular. 

Using his strength, Oliver dragged you onto his lap, where you fit against his edges snuggly. Those plush lips descended upon yours again, and he kissed away your troubles and worries, only determined to bring towards the brink of giving everything up for him.

Like a riptide, it was no use holding him back. 

Oliver had fucked you in shady motels and even in his practice locker room, but this was new territory. The both of you were within reach of your parents who had no idea of your budding situationship with the famous footballer. 

At the reminder of them, you broke the kiss off with a gasp, pinning your wide eyes onto his half-mast ones.

“Oli, how tinted are these windows?” 

“Really tinted,” he murmured without a shred of hesitation. Despite yourself, you believed him. 

You let him kiss down your neck, bite on your collarbones and pull you back in for more sloppy kisses. Unlike other men, Oliver wasn’t jumping into the main event. 

He took his time to prep you, slipping two fingers through your folds and gathering the slick there to rub along your entire entrance and back hole. Though his movements were jerky, he was still gentle with you—peppering smooches down the bridge of your nose and jaw.

If you were a weaker girl, you were sure your heart would melt into your ruined panties just for Oliver Aiku. 

He hummed, feeling you slowly ease yourself up and down his two fingers, fucking yourself on those static digits.

The first time he met you, Oliver was sure you were an upstuck, prudish type of girl. You weren’t exactly his flavour of woman, but where would the fun be without a challenge? 

He spent weeks pursuing you, doing the cheesy lame boyfriend shit people like Isagi would do for some girl he met two weeks ago. 

But, Oli’s goal was simple: Make someone else who wasn’t his type be into him.

Though you were right here with him, the task felt impossible. It was hard to get a woman who already had everything to take a chance on him. Your life was perfect—great job, great friends, supportive parents.

What could a man like him offer besides sending you to additional therapy sessions on your insurance’s dime? 

Under all the layers of his cocky playboy persona, Oliver knew he was a wreck waiting to implode. He never felt good enough to warrant a spot on Japan’s football team. He was insecure and lacked control in every part of his life except his dating one. 

It was why he went after more soft-willed girls than you.

And why the sight of you undulating your hips over his fingers nearly sent him into overdrive. 

“Fuck,” he breathed out. “You’re really something, huh, Y/N. Look at you—getting yourself off on your own. Good girl.”

Something about his tone and that endearment made both your heart and pussy throb.

“Oli,” you sniffled, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Oliver had barely touched you—he had fondled, kissed and fingered you—yet, you were already dripping for him. 

Such eagerness made your cheeks burn, and you hiccuped more of your moans back, afraid to let him hear.

But, Oliver—as attentive and controlling as he was—could sniff your shame from a mile away. He nudged your face up to look into his, those soft, dual-toned eyes edged with a ring of steel in them that cut through your flimsy bleats. 

“Let go for me,” he urged, brushing the pads of his fingers down your soft cheek, and you lost yourself in his unique eyes and handsome face again. “Don’t be afraid to show your real self to me, angel.”

Again, something in you broke. 

The last flimsy excuse, your remaining shred of dignity… all for you to finally hiccup: “Oliver, please fuck me.” 

That was all the begging he needed. 

Oliver slid his pants and boxers down, far enough for his cock to spring free and leave a smear of pre on your exposed soft belly. Your skirt was around your hips, panties pushed to the side, and that was how he took you. 

The stretch burned, but it was a satisfactory one. Your thighs ached and tears were smarting in your eyes. 

Oliver was bigger than most guys and you weren’t used to taking him without a soft bed and a little more prep work. 

But, you held onto his shoulders, every bit of your skin feeling like it was on fire from trying to hold back your moans. You didn’t want anyone to hear, or for random people to suspect; even when the car frame started to shake or the windows began to fog up. 

This was your tryst with Oliver Aiku; your dirty little secret. 

He pulled you close to kiss you again, and this time, those large hands moved to the front of your shirt, kneading your breasts with an eager vigour. You let him lift the hem up, untuck your bra cups and bathe your slowly stiffening nipples with soft kitten licks. 

Oliver guided your hips to grind down on his cock, while he suckled and tongued your buds to stiffness. The filthy squelch of your pussy coating his length with her excitement and the smack of his lips and tongue turning your nipples into fleshy diamonds echoed through the car. You were lightheaded and felt like someone had spiked your system with alcohol.

The sleek lines of his Porsche’s interior were swimming in your eyes, and you felt like you could faint from the excitement. 

Your internal pressure ticked up a notch when one large palm of his wrapped around your neck, stopping your breath in your throat. If there was one thing you were sure Oliver was made for, it was to drive you insane.

He squeezed down on you, while intermittently fucking into you with clean, sharp thrusts. He kept a consistent pattern—squeeze, fuck, let you breathe, squeeze, fuck…

“Oli!” you wheezed in between those breaths he gifted you, your swimming eyes breaking and tears running down your cheeks. “Oliver…”

“Cum for me,” he coaxed, slipping his thumb in between your lips where you sucked on the tip with what he thought was almost love. He retracted his thumb, glossy with your spit and notched it right on your windpipe, putting pressure.

Oliver watched the ecstasy, fear and lust flash across your expressions, one melange of an erotic sight he would remember forever. 

“Let yourself go, baby,” he urged, squeezing down on your throat, while you felt his abs undulate against the soft planes of your belly—a tell-tale sign he was going to cum. A pinch appeared in his brow, and sweat bulleted down his forehead. 

“G’na—fuck—you’re so tight,” he nearly gasped that last part out. “Pussy so perfect for me. Go on then, give ‘em a show… show everyone how you’re creaming just for me, sweetheart.” 

Just as you were approaching your high where white light was flooding behind your closed lids, Oliver pressed his damp lips to your ear, his whisper cutting through the fog and bringing your climax crashing down like an implosion.

“The windows aren’t actually tinted, baby… everyone just saw you fucking my cock so good.”

Your eyes rolled back into your head, manicured nails stabbing into his shoulders. Despite every fibre of your being yelling at you to stop and hop out from his lap, something darker and sultrier begged you to stay—to give into this ruin. 

Those voices warred and clashed with each other for a few seconds, which felt like an eternity as you were stretched out on another plane of pleasure no one could touch. Your ribs expanded, your spine arched and your toes curled and—

“Oliver!” 

With everything you had, you came for him. 

All the voices in your head stopped; replaced by the chanting of his name over and over again. 

Like he was a prayer and you were the repentant sinner, you sobbed out his name, holding onto his neck like a lifeline and slowly bucking your hips up and down, prolonging the almost cruel pleasure.

Oliver came around the same time you did, with a grunt and his fingers clawing into the doughy flesh of your hips. 

You sagged against him, and through a lapse of judgement, his lips found your temple, leaving a small peck on the sweaty skin.

Oliver held you like you were meant to be cradled. You couldn’t think about anything that occurred within these past few minutes; your mind was on a fever high and your body was melted to his like hot wax pooling into a holder. 

“You okay?” His deep voice rumbled under your cheek.

You nodded, too exhausted to speak.

“Can you walk?” 

Flexing your thighs, you offered another pathetic nod.

“Do you want to stay here for a bit or go?”

You should probably go. After all, it was encroaching a tender territory you dared not ventured through. He felt too good, too comfortable to leave, but you ignored the screaming in your bones when you forced yourself off his lap and back into the passenger seat.

Adjusting your panties, skirt and shirt, you flashed him a tight smile, one which he echoed with an uncertain grin.

For a few seconds, neither of you spoke, and it felt like you were leaving a movie just before the good part came on. 

But, you had already seen multiple films like these before, starring numerous women this great actor before you had duped and jilted. 

You weren’t interested in entering his rotating roster of desperate girls waiting to be picked, so you strengthen your resolve and put your dignity back in the driving seat.

“Bye, Oliver.”

He hummed. “Bye, Y/N. Goodnight.” 

Oliver didn’t offer to see you again, and you didn’t bother mentioning it.

Sometime next week, the both of you would fall back into this toxic cycle—either you would call him up drunk out of your mind or he would get pissed off during his training and call you after to let off some steam. Rinse and repeat. 

Life was predictable like that with Oliver. You didn’t want to disturb the peace.

You got out of his car, adjusting your skirt one more time. Usually, you would never turn back to give him a second glance—out of sight, out of mind.

But, this time, something compelled you to turn around, and when you did, you gasped out loud; nearly running towards his retreating car to smack the roof, the hood or even the lying man behind the wheel. 

Through those crystal clear windows which were obviously not heavily tinted like he promised, Oliver shot you a smirk and a wave, leaving you stewing in both horror and an inexplicable desire to fuck that smug look off his stupidly handsome face as the reality sank in. 

You had fucked Oliver Aiku right in front of your parents, and judging from the silent house behind you and the lack of a usual warm vibe, you were positive they were going to rip through you a new one.

intellectual property of ©️lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or play around with my sentence structures, plots and characterization.

秦彻 | SYLUS ; PLAN

summary | sylus sets a time limit for you to retrieve the brooch from him. unfortunately, you don't get it in time no matter how hard you try, but fortunately, it's sylus you're dealing with.

tags | nsfw (smut), fem!reader, mention of handcuffs, vaginal penetration, creampie, 2.9k words

a/n : inspired by his affinity lvl 15 story (?) aka the one where he gets handcuffed to the bed

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“oh,” sylus raises a brow, clearly finding this whole situation amusing. he’s handcuffed to his own bed with you straddling him, teasing him by tracing your index finger over his body. just how cocky were you?

sylus takes a deep breath in. “so you think you’ve got me now, is that right?”

you hum in response, stopping your finger near his abdomen. “think? no, i know,” you reply confidently, letting out a slight scoff. there was no way he could move, so you could find it freely as you pleased. this was the best scenario, and luckily you didn’t fumble it as this was your last attempt before the deadline reached.

unbeknownst to you, it’s not that he couldn’t un-cuff himselfー it’s actually quite offensive that you think that. it’s more of him wanting to see how far you would go if he wasn’t going to intervene, because it’s fun. how adorable you look thinking you’ve won, how eager you look to finally win against him in something. and so, he watches. eyes locked onto your every action and reaction as you try to find the hidden brooch.

you start at the top of his robe near his neck, your hand making it’s way down, slowly feeling for any small and hard object. you pat at the material rested on his chest, but still no sign.

sylus gives you a small smirk, and you narrow your eyes. you didn’t exactly trust him per se, even if he promised to keep his word. what if this was just a trick? what if he was just toying with you? what if he didn’t have the brooch?”

“are you sure the brooch is even on you?” you questioned. his growing smirk was only making you more suspicious by the minute.

“accusing me, kitten?” he asks, feigning disappointment. “you haven’t even finished looking.”

you roll your eyes at his words, mumbling a small whatever under your breath as you continued looking for the brooch. you smoothed your palm down his robe, patting around his waist. still nothing.

you were getting desperate at this pointー you were almost there. this was the best effort you’ve made so far, and you weren’t going to let your plan fail so easily. you swallow, trailing your hand further down his robe, albeit hesitantly. your hands were at his thigh, the thin material the only thing separating your skin with his.

mentally shaking your head to snap out of your thoughts, you continue feeling for where the brooch might be.

suddenly, you feel something hard. it’s hard, no mistake, but it was far from small.

…that’s definitely not the brooch.

“i’d be careful where you’re touching,” sylus speaks, his voice almost making you jump as you retracted your hand quickly. a tinge of red spreads across your cheeks, and you try to defend yourself.

“shutー quiet,” you stuttered. “i didn’t mean to, okay? sorry,” you apologized, breathing out as you tried to maintain your composure. focus on the goal, you repeated to yourself over and over again. you meet his eyes for a split second, and god, you want to wipe that smirk off his face.

he lets out a breathy chuckle, watching you get distracted as you panicked to look for the brooch.

you finally get to the bottom of his robe, but you find absolutely nothing. where else could he have hidden it? he had to have it with him… that was a rule, right?

“i swear, you’re playing with me,” you accused, defeated. how was this possible? you set everything up perfectly, and the one thing you couldn’t do was find the broochー despite being able to check him freely? “be honest, is it really on you or not?” you asked, squishing his cheeks together with your hand so he looks at you.

“oh, look at that,” he states, ignoring your question before tilting his head up slightly, glancing at the clock, then back to you.

“time’s up.”

you hear a soft click, your head snapping to the sound of the handcuffs unlocking as you let your hand fall.

your body moves instinctively, feet touching the floor as you push yourself off his bed to make your escape.

…only for him pull you back and throw you onto the bed, landing with a soft thud against his pillow. you try to lift yourself up again, but your wrists get pinned by his larger handsー all the more making it hard to move. you start to squirm a little, but decide it’s of no use.

“you really are naive,” sylus sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. how you thought a pair of poorly made handcuffs were supposed to restrict him was beyond comprehendible. “since you didn’t find it in time, i get to have my way with you.”

“whatever, justー just get on with it.” you roll your eyes, trying to act nonchalant, but you can’t help the sudden wave of pleasure that shoots through your body at his words.

complying, he slams his lips against yours, the kiss filled with hunger and greed. the kiss was far from sloppyー he made sure you felt everything, both physically and emotionally, very calculated. his tongue darts out to swipe against your bottom lip, and you gasp.

he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, the wet sounds of making out filling his room as he continued to french kiss you.

removing his hand from one of your wrists, he opts to grip your waist instead, subtly pushing your shirt higher and higher, until your bra was exposed.

you shouldn’t be enjoying this. yet here you were, squirming under him as your thighs rubbed against one another, eager to feel any sort of stimulation. his mouth felt so warm as he continued kissing you, and so did the atmosphere.

feeling the movement of your thighs, he lets go of your other wrist, spreading your legs apart before slotting himself in between them, his crotch flushed against you. he doesn’t break the kiss once, letting you grind onto his hardened bulge to relieve yourself.

“sylus,” you breathed out, pushing him away gently to catch your breath. you panted softly, a string of saliva connecting the both of your lips as he pulled back.

“what, kitten?” he leans back smugly, admiring how red your lips were. all his doing, of course. “you can’t even handle a bit of kissing?”

“that was not a bit of kissing,” you retorted, looking away. you noticed your clothes were starting to stick onto your skin, presumably from the heat. you start to slowly unbutton your shirt one by one, but he’s not having any of that.

he smacks your hand away, ripping open the shirt like it was paper, some buttons popping off. you couldn't even protest as he pulled your bra down, exposing your tits.

"what the fuck, sylus! that was my favorite shirt," you scolded, furrowing your brows. it was one of the few shirts you decided to splurge on after contemplating for a long time, and the fact that he just tore it like that...

"how much?" he questions, squeezing one of your tits.

"what? like, a little over a hundredー"

"insignificant," he cuts you off, latching onto one of your nipples. he already knew whatever value you said wouldn't matter much to himー he could buy you a million of those shirts and there wouldn't be a single dent to his bank account.

he continues to suck and fondle, alternating between each tit to give them equal attention. he bites occasionally, each time making you gasp. you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling every time he sucked or bit too hard.

after what felt like hours, sylus finally pulls off you with a pop, staring at the red marks, shining with his saliva around your tits. even better that it's from his doing. he lets out a satisfied sigh.

"don't... look at me like that," you whisper, covering his eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed.

he lets out a breathy chuckle, bringing your palm to his lips to kiss it. "you're getting shy now? you weren't earlier when you were touching me all over," he points out, pulling your pants and underwear off in one clean motion.

"and don't think i forgot when you brushed against my..."

"that's 'cause i was looking for the brooch!" you argued, letting out a defeated sigh. "...just fuck me already."

"it's interesting that you think you're in any position to make demands." he flips you over onto your hands and knees, giving your ass a loud slap, resonating throughout the room. "ass up, don't take your own sweet time."

you clicked your tongue at his attitude, but did as he told anyway. as much as you didn't want to admit it, you were eager. the last time the both of you had sex, he fucked you until you were on the brink of tears, moaning and drooling into his pillows that he had to change them after. it was amazing, to say the very least.

sylus shifts behind you, undoing his robe and getting rid of his boxers quickly. his cock stands erected, large obviously, and it's clear he's already been hard since the beginning. even if you don't turn around to look, you knew just how much pre-cum was leaking from his cock as he rubs the coated tip between your embarrassingly wet folds. so much so that you didn't even need any preparationー not even his fingers to spread your pussy open.

he gives your ass another slap again, before guiding his cock into your tight entrance. your pussy stretches around him to accommodate his girth, instinctively clamping down the moment it entered.

"ngh, sylus," you moan, fingers gripping onto his sheets, pillows, anything you could grab on to as he pushed more of his inches into you. you'll never get enough of how big he feels inside you, the empty space previously now filled to the brim with his cock, stretching you out to mold your insides to the shape of him.

"fuck... always so fucking tight, huh?" sylus exhales, bottoming out inside you. though, there was still some of his length left that your cunt couldn't take in. "this cock is too big for you."

you whined in response, spreading your legs further to take more of him in comfortably, but you could barely do so from how filled you were. there was simply no space inside you.

"aw, too much for you, kitten?" he mocks. pulling back to leave only his tip in, before slamming his entire length back into you.

"shutー ahー up!" you cry out as you jerk forward from the sheer force of his thrust. his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you back to meet each thrust of his cock. you should've known he was only going to go faster, his seemingly sweet and slow pace disappearing the moment he starts pounding into you at rapid speeds. his balls were hitting your clit every time he pushed his cock in, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

your sounds get louder and louder each time he fucks into you, so much so that you have to bury your face into the pillow to muffle your moans. it was going to happen againー his pillows stained with drool.

he slammed his hips against your ass harder, hoping to elicit more sounds from you. "sylus... mmph!" you moan, his name coming out unclear from how muffled you were.

"hmm?" he hums in question, pulling your hair to lift your face off the pillow. "who said that you could hide your pretty sounds?"

sylus pulls out before flipping you over again, this time taking a few seconds to admire your fucked out state. your face was flushed, half-lidded eyes and drool dribbling down the side of your mouth. he doesn't think he's ever seen a prettier sight.

"you're drooling," he points out, using his thumb to wipe some of it away. well, you knew that, but you don't care, because at this point, all you can think about is his cock. you've never been more grateful to him, more thankful that you met him, as he pushes his cock into you once more.

your walls feel so good around him, he has to take a brief breather before starting to thrust. such a tight cunt, he thinks again, because it's trueー he's never fucked this good of a pussy. wrapping around him so warmly, clenching onto him in all the right ways. he could die happy like this. he could die happy with you.

"fuck me, fuck meー fuck me," you beg, snapping him out of his thoughts. you push up against him, trying to move on your own, to take more of him in, to just do something. the lack of stimulation was killing you.

"stop," he hisses, gripping your thigh to stop you. "you're going to hurt yourself. let me do it."

and then he starts again, fucking you with so much vigor that you mentally question just how much stamina he actually has. he never lets his pace falter from then onwards, railing you as the bed starts to move along to his movements.

with no pillow to bury your face in, you couldn't hide your moans even if you wanted toー exactly what he wanted. you were screaming, "harderー fuckー yes! right there!"

"so noisy in bed," he groans, hands reaching up to intertwine your fingers with him. a small and sweet gesture, the complete opposite of how roughly he was ramming his cock deep inside you. repeatedly, at that same exact spot that had your eyes rolling backwards. if anyone was outside his doorー hell, not even outside his door, maybe even at a few rooms away, they would definitely still be able hear you.

you wrap your legs around his waist tightly, feeling your orgasm approaching sooner than you thought. "sylus, i wannaー make me cum, please!"

no, he wanted to say. this wasn't your reward, you didn't even find the brooch. but he couldn't. because he was close too.

sylus wasn't going to deny you even if you didn't ask so nicely, even if you demanded him to. he knows the exact look on your face as you cum, and it's the same, perfect, expression that he loves so much each time. at your request, he lets go of one of your hands, dipping his fingers into your mouth before trailing down to rub circles around your clit.

unnecessary? yes, you were already soaking wet. just for good measure, he thinks. besides, you looked sexy with your mouth wrapped around his fingers, almost struggling with how much larger his digits were.

you start squirming, squeezing his hand tighter as he continues thrusting while rubbing, a deadly combo. "fuckー thaaat's it, be a good girl and cream on my cock."

"oh myー sylus!" you scream out his name as your orgasm hits you, eyes rolling back, nails digging into his hand, and your back arches off the bed. your pussy starts tightening and spasming around him like a vice. he feels you get so much, so much wetter that his cock almost slips out of you as he pulls back.

"such a sweet expression," he groans at the sight, pushing your legs back as he tries to angle his cock deeper into you. you try to close your legs from sensitivity, but he simply won't let you, not when he's so close to cumming.

"ohー yes, fuuuck..." he throws his head back with a final snap of his hips, his cock pulsing inside you as he pumps your pussy with cum, his thick load of semen coating your insides with warmth.

coming down from his high with a few more weak spurts of cum, he lets his head fall back down, a contented sigh as he pulls out slowly with a loud squelch. you whimper at the sensitivity, but also at the loss of his cock. his load takes a few seconds to dribble out, thick and creamy, leaving a trail down to your ass.

"satisfied?" he tilts his head, letting your legs down. "seems like you're done for tonight."

"yeah," you breathe out in exhaustion, feeling his hand caress your cheek. "the brooch," you paused, suddenly remembering.

"where is it, and... what's the actual punishment?"

sylus looks at you amused, reaching over to his robe tossed somewhere on the floor, unpinning the brooch before holding it towards you. "looking for this?"

you widened your eyes. how could it have been in his robe? you literally searched everywhereー

"i know what's going on in that little head of yours," he sighs, opening your palm to put it in your hand. "you got distracted, remember? you brushed past it and didn't even notice, kitten."

you groaned in frustration, mad at yourself that you didn't even notice. you basically just accused him for nothing.

"...and the actual punishment? for not getting the brooch in time?"

"no punishment," he states smugly, watching your lips part in disbelief.

"seriously? i put in a lot of effort into these plans you know!" you smack his chest lightly. "i can't believe you."

"i'd say you gained a lot more than you lost," he says as a matter-of-factly, eyeing the white mess oozing out of your cunt.

"...shut up."

ー @yuki-world