THAT WASNT MY NAME.

“THAT WASN’T MY NAME.”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + SAYING THE WRONG NAME. ft. hayato suo, kaji ren, nirei akihiko, & sakura haruka x f!reader

content: explicit smut (18+), fellatio, overstim, choking, teasing, (kind of) brat taming, multiple rounds, mentions of creampies, usage of pet names, individual tags below.

mdni - 1.5K wc. filled request!

HAYATO SUO.

very mild brat taming, usage of pet names

“oh? that’s not like you, love.”

his gaze remains gentle, eyes intent on watching the way your cunt flutters so desperately around his length, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips to try and pull him deeper inside— but he doesn’t let you, of course.

suo has always been a tease. he likes to get you pent up like this, get you needy and frustrated until you’re clutching onto him and whining for him to stop and give you more, but he admits that he may have gone just a little bit too far today.

he’s brought you to the point where you’re moaning his friend’s name just to pull a reaction from him, and he knows painfully well that it’s your last resort at getting under his skin— because he knows your thought processes and tricks like the back of his hand.

so the fact that it actually worked is just that much more infuriating to him.

“thinking about someone else? how rude of you.”

the way your walls tighten around his length in response to his change in tone doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and you really couldn’t have been more obvious if you tried.

“ohh, i see,” he continues, pushing himself just an inch or two deeper- just enough to draw a lewd moan from you, “you just enjoy being put in your place, hmm? is that it?”

the way your eyes widen at such a suggestion is almost endearing, your head quickly shaking back and forth as you protest, blurting out a jumbled mix of “of course not” and “you’re just hot when you’re mad..”

absolutely anyone could read you like this, especially with the way you’re peering up at him so curiously through your lashes to gauge each and every reaction he might make. he already knows without you telling him that there’s nothing in that brain of yours besides your fantasy of him pounding into you at his full strength, maybe even pinning your wrists above your head while he’s at it.

“you really should have just asked me, love,” suo’s fingers wrap gently around your neck, a part of him content with the way you perk up in anticipation from something as little as that.

“..because i didn’t like that act of yours very much.”

he’s rutting into you once again before you even have time to think, angling himself to slam deep inside as your arms scramble to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer as you whine. you accidentally pull him deeper inside you like this, and suo fails to mask the way his face contorts at the sudden tightness.

“o-oh?” his voice holds an unfamiliar breathlessness to it, “i didn’t know you were so needy today.”

“ah— because it’s so deep!” you stammer, loud moans going straight through his ear. his unrelenting pace is so foreign to you, and you don’t know how he’s still so precise, aiming to pummel the exact spot that has you seeing stars the fastest- and you’re not sure if you can handle this much.

you let go of his shoulders, arms coming to shield your eyes as they roll back into your skull, your back arching in a futile attempt to escape the overstimulation.

“oh— no,” suo’s voice cuts through the air, “we won’t do that.”

he’s pinning your hands far above your head in one swift movement, frame towering over yours as he rolls his hips into you harder. “s-suo, it’s too much!” your words come out slurred, expression contorting with how quickly you’re approaching your high.

“this is just the beginning love. we’re gonna play out all those fantasies you’ve had tonight,” his grip around your wrists tighten slightly, “so no more running from it. okay?”

KAJI REN.

neck kisses, choking (barely), usage of pet names, jealousy?

“oh,” you turn your head to look up at your boyfriend when his thrusts come to a complete halt at the realization of what you just said, “i meant to say kaji.”

there’s an uncharacteristically long silence from your boyfriend, the only sound in the room being your giggle as you try and wiggle your ass against his hips to rile him up even more. “sorry,” your voice shifts to a stifled laugh, “don’t worry though, i was just kiddin-ah!”

you’re pulled up with ease when his hand wraps around your neck, guiding you back until you’re pressed flush against his strong chest, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder.

“think you’re funny, huh?” his thumb comes to roughly tilt your chin to the side, letting him grunt into the skin of your neck.

the new angle has you trembling, eyes widening with how much bigger he feels inside you like this. he’s stretching you out so much more than before, his fat tip nestled uncomfortably against your cervix as he holds you in place.

“real funny, princess,” you hear his click his tongue in annoyance.

the feeling of his breath fanning against your skin has your breath hitching in your throat moments after, his lips just barely ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck. “got me reall good,” he repeats slowly, lips tantalizingly close to the smooth skin, “but i don’t wanna hear that guy’s name leaving your mouth again.”

“prank or not.”

it’s not like kaji isn’t aware of how silly he looks right now, jealous and angry over a minor prank like this one, but he can’t help it, not with the way the name rolled off your tongue in such a sickeningly sweet way.

he wants to hear you moan his name instead. wants to hear it again and again until he’s no longer green with jealousy.

a shiver of anticipation races through you when he starts trailing wet and sloppy kisses along your skin, each touch sending a wave of pleasure coursing straight into your core. he’s rough with it, a stark contrast to the way his finger is gently circling at your clit, just the way you like it.

“a-ah,” you moan when he starts sucking at the skin, inhaling sharply when he catches a faint whiff of your perfume. “k-kaji, that feels good.”

he almost groans at the sound of his name again. “again,” he growls, lips returning to give you another mark on the side of your neck, “say that again.”

you were his- his only, and he was gonna make sure everybody knew that by the end of tonight.

NIREI AKIHIKO.

mention of creampies

“s-sorry,” nirei mumbles, “that was a lot, huh?”

he watches with a heavy blush across his cheeks when your fingers come to collect the cum that he’s shot directly onto your tits, his cock throbbing when you slowly drag your tongue up your hand.

“it’s okay, sakura. oh— wrong name.”

he blinks a couple times before his heart sinks into his stomach. his first thought was that he just heard you wrong, but there was just no way that was possible.

“..sakura?”

his expression shifts from confusion to worry, then to a frustrated pout when you start laughing. “i’m just kidding!” you giggle, laugh trailing off to a concerned hum when his eyebrows stay deeply furrowed.

“oh? was that too mean, nirei?”

you watch him closely when his hands come to pull you by the waist, your own arms coming to wrap around him, but he doesn’t let you. “you know,” he starts, and he’s grabbing both of your wrists before pinning you beneath him, “i change my mind.”

your tits bounce a bit when your back hits the mattress, your chest still covered in his cum, and he wishes time could stop for a brief second so he could stare and admire you like this for just a little longer without looking like a total creep. it doesn’t help when you’re staring up at him like that too, your mouth still parted to pant lightly from the previous round.

you’re fucked out in the cutest way, and it’s enough to get him hard again.

“…about?” your words trail off with a hint of uncertainty under them.

“‘m not sorry,” he whispers, groaning when his overstimulated cock slaps against your folds. “not sorry at all anymore. gotta shoot it inside next, or this’ll keep bothering me.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

fellatio, teasing, his dick is sensitive <3

“h-huh..?”

your eyes flicker to the way the muscles of his abs flex when he abruptly sits up, deep blush across his cheeks as he watches you bob your head up and down his length in complete and utter disbelief.

“sorryy,” your voice is a soft and teasing whisper, and you give him that sugary-sweet smile that always kills him in an instant, “wrong name.”

an awfully casual mistake to make, he thinks.

sakura is absolutely dumbfounded, forcing himself to try and glare despite the way you have him breathless and trembling underneath your touch, but you’re resuming your movements only a second later, your tongue dragging up his length as if you didn’t just call him someone else’s fucking name just now.

“h-hey,” he can barely choke out a word with how good your lips feel around his dick, and he’s trying to reach forward and pull you off of him, struggling to blurt out a “s-stop that!”

but you’re suddenly taking him deeper, letting him in your throat until your nose pokes at his skin, and he groans loudly at the feeling of your throat around him.

“ah— shit..” his mouth falls open when you moan into him, vibrations of your voice forcing his hips to jerk up against you.

“you— you just…” he’s trying, trying so hard to get a word out, but you’re such a fucking tease. your head bobs up and down a little faster, tongue flattening to glide perfectly around his thickness, and the way his quads start trembling doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

he’s getting close.

the lewd ‘pop!’ your mouth makes when you let him go only deepens the furious blush across his cheeks, and he wishes he didn’t make the mistake of looking down and catching a glimpse of you rubbing his pre-cum off your bottom lip with your thumb.

“i was just kidding,” you smile when you notice his attention is back on you, even if it’s only for a brief moment before he’s tearing his gaze away, “but the face you made was real funny.”

his expression switches to an angry scowl— as angry as he could possibly look after you’ve reduced him to nothing but a panting, flustered mess beneath you. he’s gasping loudly as soon as your hands start to run up and down his thighs, fingertips pressing into him to get a better feel for his muscles.

it’s enough to kill him as is, but as soon as you start peppering his dick with kisses, he feels his patience crumble to nothing.

“enough,” his voice is just above a shaky growl, nails digging deeply into the armrests besides him, “needa be inside you— f-fuck. right now.”

Behind closed doors [Prince! Denmark x reader]

Wordcount: 7, 657 Synopsis: After the prince hurts his leg in a horse-riding accident, you’re tasked with serving him. You’re confused why such a prestigious job fell into your hands, a beginner, but you soon realize that being his servant is to also be a friend. Soon, your relationship transpires into something much deeper. When you run away, fearing the consequences, he stops at nothing to get you back. Content warning: Adult themes and Strong NSFW later in the story. Strictly R18+ Translations: skat = treasure/honey/sweetie min kære = my dear The reader is referred to as she/her.

Behind closed doors

[Prince! Denmark x reader]

Growing up, you’ve always been immune to the glory surrounding the royal family. A given, considering your family had always been part of it in some way—as the servants, of course. So, as stately, dignified, and powerful they were, you never made a fuss once you finally rose up to meet your fate. Being a part of the ranks as one of the maids. But there was one thing you never expected to do, ever.

“Wait, wait, wait a second. You’re telling me I have to do what?” You questioned, leaning into an older woman as your voice turned into a hushed whisper. She merely nodded, settling a calm hand on your shoulder. “But, I can’t! I’m young, inexperienced, and I still have a lot to live for! I’m not cut out for this.”

Seeing her lack of reaction only coaxed more panic to race through your eyes.

“That’s exactly why you’re cut out for this.”

She moved her other hand to your shoulder. Feeling her hold you so carefully was more therapeutic than anything. Paired with that gentle, albeit serious gaze, she shattered your resolve to refuse. “You’re more capable than you think, (F/N). This will only prove that. You have to trust yourself like I do you.”

“Maybe, but—” You wanted to believe her. But serving the prince himself? Directly? Shouldn’t that job be reserved for her, not you? Ida was the head maid and had decades of experience fluffing up pillows fit for a king. You were still a learner. “I still don’t understand why I was picked for this. Wouldn’t they want someone better?”

Ida merely laughed, “but you are the best.”

Leading you down the warm halls, which consisted of rich crimson walls and shimmering candelabrums, she continued with an arm around your shoulder. “Prince Mathias has been unwell ever since that horse-riding accident in the mountains.” You looked at her warily, unsure of what she was getting at. “Pretty self-explanatory.”

She stopped you in front of a pair of double doors. They spoke of grandeur, much like the rest of the castle. “He’s getting better, but physical health is nothing without mental health.” She smiled reassuringly, beckoning you forward with a pat on your lower back. “He needs a friend, you see.”

A door opened, revealing a middle-aged man with spectacles. He stepped out and nodded curtly. If you recalled correctly, he was the royal doctor.

“Ida. Here to see to Prince Mathias?” He began.

You tensed up. She patted your back again.

“No, but she is,” Ida replied, turning to you for one last look of encouragement. “He’s in good hands. Go on, skat. You’ll do wonderful.” With that said, she walked off with the man, leaving you by yourself in the empty doorway. How daunting. There, in the prince’s bedroom, was the famed royal himself, Mathias Densen.

Dressed in a loose white blouse and sleeping pants, he’d taken a seat on one of the spare chairs lying around. It was refreshing seeing him in such a casual fit, and daresay even calming. His left leg was wrapped up in bandages and seeing it was the invisible push you needed to walk inside. His condition was worse than you pictured.

“Your majesty,” You bowed, keeping your head down while you spoke. He collected his crutch and used it to stand up slowly. Then, he made his way over.

With your head hanging low, he could barely make out your face. But from the length of your dress, he immediately drew this conclusion—you were young. Most of the maids were middle-aged or elderly, and their skirts reached the floor.

Yours barely reached your knees.

“I’ll be your attending maid for the coming months. Anything you’ll need assistance with, will be my responsibility.” Mathias managed an eager smile. The atmosphere was thicker than he liked, but never mind that. He’d been pretty miserable holed up in his room lately, and seeing somebody new had his extroverted heart pounding in excitement.

You could hear the gentle thuds of his crutch as he got closer and closer. Your chest mimicked the thumps, having become both nervous and confused as to why he wasn’t saying anything. The tension in the air was finally lifted when you felt a few fingers on your chin, then lift your face. He touched you.

“Your majesty—?”

What he immediately saw was a pair of wide, innocent eyes, gawking at him like he’d just kicked a puppy. So, he released you with a gentle laugh.

“At ease, min kære. I’m not gonna eat you.” He leaned on one side, but still beamed down at you thanks to his towering height. “I know we’re supposed to keep things professional, but it gets a little... Disheartening, don’t you think?” There was a childish glint in the prince’s eyes while he spoke. As a result, his unassuming persona practically made him impossible to ignore.

“I guess so.” You responded, averting his gaze. Idle chatter was always frowned upon in the castle, especially between royals and their subjects. But like he inferred, you were young. Protocols and rules haven’t done a number on you yet.

“Ida did say you needed someone to talk to.”

Mathias nodded thoughtfully. “Well, tell her I said thanks. I thought I’d end up with an old guy or something. But looks like... You’re around my age.” You returned his gaze, taken aback by the remark, but even more so by the close proximity between your faces. The crown prince was a tenacious man.

“So, what’s your name?”

After serving him lunch, he insisted to go on a walk to get to know you better. The man was so keen, it was almost as if he never had those bandages around his leg. You relented, and so did his advisor, having grown too used to his whims. As dim-witted as this decision was, none of you were in the position to defy the will of the prince. And boy, was he a handful.

“They kept on telling me not to do it, going, oh, but Prince Mathias, you’ll hurt yourself if you ride out that recklessly in the snow! The weather is terrible and blah. But you know what I said?” The clopping of his crutch was constant background noise to this conversation, which slowly became one-sided. “I just went, if you really think I’m a prince, then you’ll let me do what I want! And, boom.”

There was not a single dash of regret in his words, and you had to say, you admired his stupidity.

“I... Wow. You must be a pain to look after.” You commented mindlessly in a laugh. He nodded fervently to agree, but you couldn’t share his enthusiasm. “... Fantastic.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Mathias sighed, dragging out the ‘fun’.

“Yeah, maybe for you. But where’s the fun for me?”

“When you watch me do stuff, of course.”

You craned your head to the side, enthralled. His character was strangely refreshing, being the personification of a golden retriever. Confident, bubbly, and never unpleasant. It was only the first day, and you had a feeling Ida was right all along.

“Just how interesting could you be?”

He seemed to have taken that as a challenge.

A few days later, the prince and his advisor gathered for tea. You did the honors of preparing it, along with cutting them slices of a freshly baked apple cake. You expected to be trembling before the scrutiny of the advisor, Vic, Mathias called him, the mastermind behind major decisions in the kingdom.

But he had a way to calm your nerves.

While the older man droned on and on about the politics and economics of the state, he rubbed his chin and made an intensely focused face to mimic him. Then, he closed his eyes to make a posh, distinguished expression while lipsyncing, ‘the state of this kingdom cannot be overlooked, and it is of insurmountable importance that you, my dear prince, are involved.’

The accuracy and timing were so impeccable, you nearly spilled some tea biting back your snickers. He made the right hand gestures to match, too.

Seeing your cheeks flush from hysteria made him light up. It had been so long since someone looked at him this way, he couldn’t help gleaming at you for a moment of distraction. Eventually, the other person in the room noticed, smacking him on the back of the head with a folded newspaper. “Ah-”

“Stop ogling the maid and focus!” Vic scolded, much to his embarrassment.

You turned away and worked with the teapot.

While Mathias rubbed his nape sheepishly, he snuck an expectant glance at you. He wondered what was going through your mind, but he figured it was only good things seeing a smile tease at your lips. He smiled so wide, his cheeks began to hurt. Then, his chest warmed with exhilaration.

“Thanks for what you did back there, prince.” You whispered as he closed the door, leaving the advisor inside to monologue. He no longer needed a crutch, but he still got around with a slight limp. Taking your arm in his, he walked you down the quiet crimson halls. Everything felt so natural with him, you never found yourself questioning it. “I thought he’d be breathing down my neck, waiting for me to mess up.”

“Not when he’s too busy breathing down mine,” The blonde grinned, “I’m used to it, but you probably aren’t. I had to steal the show, didn’t I?”

The man was hardly serious, let alone fond of authority, ironically enough.

“And did you just call me prince? I don’t like that.”

“Then, what do you want me to call you?” You mused, never anticipating what he was about to do.

Stopping in front of the maids’ quarters, he took one of your hands into his. He touched you again, just like he did the first time he met you. Was this going to be a regular thing? It left you a little flustered, but not as much as the serious gaze he held on you. You’ve never seen such a sincere look on him, but strangely enough, it suit him.

“Mathias.” This was a side of him you didn’t know about, and you honestly weren’t sure what you were delving into. “But call me Mat when we’re alone.”

But it wouldn’t hurt to try, would it?

A month went by serving the prince, and you both grew inexplicably closer. Turns out, helping him with every little thing in the day meant spending an awful lot of time together—waking him up as his personal alarm clock, getting him dressed, serving him food, pouring his drinks, keeping his room from turning into a pigsty, ironing his clothes, the list just went on.

He even refused to go outside the castle without you, meaning you eventually had to tag along on business trips, hikes, and other aristocratic activities.

It eventually reached the point where he was never seen without you.

“He really likes that maid, doesn’t he?” Victor commented mindlessly, peering at you both. Out there in the palace gardens, you and Mathias were fooling around in the grass. He couldn’t stop gloating about how his leg was all healed up and gave you a piggyback-ride to prove it.

“Is he... Pretending to be a horse?” He narrowed his eyes in disapproval, and even more so when he heard neighing and purring. “... He is.”

“That boy has always been a handful.” Ida cackled warmly. “But I always liked handfuls.”

Mathias was chewing up grass, now. You gawked at him in sheer disbelief. “Mat, what’re you—spit it out, you idiot!” He refused, leaving you no choice but to get your hands dirty. Opening up his mouth, you did your damndest to remove all the strokes of green inside. “You’re disgusting! Did you forget we went to the stables today? We stepped in sh—”

“Shoot! I totally forgot!” He coughed, spluttering violently to get everything off his tongue. He resorted to blowing raspberries to get everything out. “Ppllt—why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“How was I supposed to know you were gonna eat grass?” You exclaimed, standing up slowly and leaving him on the ground. Your chest was rising and falling heavily while you walked off. “You’re stupid.”

Mathias jumped up eagerly.

“Stupid is as stupid does.”

You shook your head and stifled back another smile. This man was impossible. But he was beginning to grow on you, as evident in how your cheeks flushed red in joy. He caught on immediately, and it drew him in like moths to a flame. It was irresistible seeing you like this, so he never hesitated to stumble forward and slump onto you. “So, where to next, boss?”

“The bathroom. If you swallow, you’ll die in seven days to some mysterious disease.”

“... I think I just did.”

As you both left, your jubilant laughter echoed off the walls. It was music to her ears, but he couldn’t share the sentiment—just how close had the prince grown to you? This could be the scandal of the century!

“So long as they’re nothing more than friends. It’s bad enough he’s talking to the help.” Ida glared at him for a hot second, then raised a hand like she was about to slap him. Victor shrunk into his neck immediately. It was a menacing sight to behold, one would’ve thought it was her who ran the house.

“I’m the help, you scum.” She lowered her hand, but her glower on him never faltered. “Don’t forget we started in the same place. And mind you, the prince actually likes me.”

“Have it your way. But things won’t always stay like this.” The man grumbled under his breath. A threatening kind of shrewdness glinted in his beady gray eyes when he added this.

“The prince will need to marry soon. I’m sure the future queen won’t tolerate such careless mingling between the ranks. And certainly not such blatant challenges to authority.”

Eight months passed, and the question as to whether touching you would be a regular thing was answered. He made it a habit to hold your hand whenever he could. It took a while for you to get used to, but it helped to think he was a generally touchy person. So, you were lenient. But perhaps, you’ve been too lenient. A meaningful friendship was beginning to transpire into something else.

His mischievous stares in the halls no longer had that childish light in them. Instead, they grew longing. Longing couldn’t be without sadness, so it never drove you away. In fact, it brought you closer. You would soon learn that was a mistake on your part.

High up in the mountains at his private residence, the harbor could be seen connecting the kingdom to the fjord beyond. It boasted bright aquamarine waters and was frequented by magnificent ships that came and went. After noticing your attention to him wasn’t impartial anymore, he glanced up to what you’d been fixated on.

“You like the view?”

“Definitely. I wonder if the rest of the world looks like that. Outside of this fjord.” You mused, lingering on the beautiful scenery for a moment longer. You and Mathias were out on the balcony, resting against the wooden banister. “I’ll have to use my imagination.”

“Or I could just take you there. I got my own ship, you know. But it needs a whole crew to get it going.”

A few moments of silence passed, and his gaze on you grew too hot for you to stomach.

“But I don’t like that. I’d rather go with just you,” Reaching up to your bare back, uncovered thanks to the dress you wore, he grazed his fingertips over it carefully. He watched you intently for you to react, and react you did—just not in the way he wanted.

“Mat, stop that.” You urged, giving him a look.

“Why?” Mathias’s brushes on your skin turned into gentle rubs. He dug into the nodules of your spine, and the pressure made you shiver. Watching you tremble under his touch made his chest ache with desire, and it showed in his growing blush.

“Just stop it. You’re making me uncomfortable.” Shaking him off, you pulled away and moved to the other side of the balcony. You didn’t like the way he stared at you. It was almost as if he was seeing you in that kind of light, and it scared you more than anything. If only your heart wasn’t pounding so hard.

“Is it because you don’t like me?”

He frowned at the thought, but that didn’t stop him from getting behind you. Attaching two hands to your waist, he pressed his face to yours, trapping you by the balcony. “I thought you did.”

“Mat, I’m serious. Let me go—” You pushed as hard as you could against him but to no avail. “What is your problem? Just because you’re a prince it means I can’t say no to you?”

He winced at the suggestion and let you go.

“No, it’s just that I thought—I thought maybe you liked me. Just like how I like you.” For someone so bashful, there was such a cutting conviction in his words. You reflected his embarrassment with a hot blush of your own. “... Unless you don’t...?”

His voice trailed off so sadly, hearing it forced you to reveal the truth you’d been trying to hide.

“I do like you.” You exasperated.

“Then, why?” Mathias’s brows furrowed so deeply together, creases formed between them.

“Why what?”

“Why won’t you let me touch you?”

You stormed off to establish distance with him. Knowing him, he’d follow you until he’d be all in your face. And that was exactly what he did, marching after you until he could tower himself over you. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you whipped your head to the side to avoid his watery eyes.

“I’m not a princess. Okay? You can’t run off and do this kind of stuff with the maid. It’ll ruin you.” It took every fiber of your being to stop yourself from crying as you choked this out—“It’ll ruin me. I’m sure Vic is planning to kick me out right now.”

“That’s not true!” He blurted, reaching out to hold your wrists. “I’m the prince! Vic has nothing on my word. And plus, it’s not like he has to find out.” Mathias sounded so earnest, you wanted to believe him. Give in to him. But you knew better than to indulge in a meaningless fling that had grave consequences. So you tore yourself away from him.

“No, Mat. I can’t do this with you,” Backing up closer to the front door, you shook your head as he simply walked over again. “Mathias, please.”

“Why are you so afraid?” He held your shoulders and pressed his forehead against yours. Already, having his body and hands on you was like taking a bat for a swing at your resolve. But you persisted, clamping a hand over his mouth before he could kiss you.

He frowned deeply and licked your palm, successfully getting you to pull away. “Mat—”

“Just tell me what you’re so afraid of. I’ll make it go away, I promise. I’ll protect you. You know I will.” Every word he uttered made your lips brush together. His sincerity became too hard to resist, so you forced yourself to stumble out an answer.

“I...” You shook your head with your eyes closed. Already, you subconsciously accepted you couldn’t get away without his mouth on yours. “I think you’re just confused, okay? You haven’t really had a friend for a while. You probably think you like me when you just... Need somebody to talk to.”

Mathias gritted his teeth for a look of betrayal.

“You’re talking to me like I’m just some kinda kid!” He whisper-shouted, flaring his nostrils some. He spoke so frantically, so passionately, it was hard to believe this was the same goofy idiot all these months. “You think I can’t tell the difference? I’m a man, you know. Whenever I’m alone with you, I get...”

He flickered his eyes over you intensely. They were so love-laden, you couldn’t handle it.

So you stared away.

But he wasn’t having any of it. If you weren’t going to look at him, he’d find another way to get your attention. Sealing your mouth with his, he moved his head fervently for a hot, wet kiss.

Your lips met again and again, meshing together perfectly until you couldn’t breathe. He didn’t let you part for air. He was the one who decided the breaks, and even then, your tongues would be sliding together in a selfishly brief gap. It left you gasping, and the oxygen you desperately needed only came through the warmth of his mouth.

He was forcing you to breathe him in.

“... Mathias...” You panted. Before you got another word in, he kissed you again, eliciting soft sounds of sucking and pecking. While he inundated you in the heated exchange, drowning you with the taste of his spit, he snuck a hand up your skirt. “H-Hey!”

“Let’s make love,” Panting out the words into your ear, your chest ached when you realized you were in the endgame. Mathias was so set on doing you, he was already sporting an impressive tent in his pants. Taking out his throbbing cock, he guided your hand to it, then squeezed your fingers around it.

“You perverted dog...” Hearing your airy, frustrated voice sent a hard twitch down his arousal. You felt it. Every jerk, every soft vein. You were about to have your first time with the prince, and the thought was more erotic than it should’ve been.

As much as you wanted to push him away, a part of you also wanted to let everything be. He always had a way of getting your heart racing and aching for him. His long, lustful stares, dazed answers, and absent gaze, it all became clear he’d been thinking of something else entirely whenever he talked to you.

This man was a sex fiend, and you set him off by accepting his invitation to visit this place. High up in the mountains, where nobody could find you two.

The tipping point was when you glared at him. Seeing it made him snap, and had him rearing for a hot fuck session. Hooking his fingers around your underwear, he pulled it down to your knees.

If you were going to be stubborn, he’d strip your layers like your clothes.

Your dress was on the ground next to a pile of his clothes. He pulled you onto his lap to touch you all over, and fondle you like his personal plaything. You were shy, he could tell. You hid your chest by pressing it up to his, but the feeling of your breasts against him riled him up further.

He’d get you to open up tonight.

Giving your waist a hard squeeze, he made you jolt backward in shock. That gave him the perfect opportunity to lean down and smother his face into your breasts. There, he lapped his hot tongue over your nipple before sucking on it.

Hearing your breathy moan made his cock twitch again. You felt it right against the folds of your womanhood, so you couldn’t help looking down. And he was huge. He was at full mast, and pressing every inch of his dick to you so comfortably like it was meant to be there. He was lengthy and girthy to boot, so you couldn’t imagine it going inside you.

Blood rushed up to your face as you uttered this—“You’re not putting that inside me.” You pushed him off you with a soft ‘pop’. He peered up at you expectantly. “That’s... That’s not gonna fit.”

“It will, don’t worry...” Mathias raised his head and dragged his tongue up your neck. “I just have to stretch you. Just trust me, it won’t hurt too bad...”

“And... It smells...!” You whispered, removing your arms from his neck to get off him. But you never succeeded in either of those things, as he merely dove on top of you to hold you down in a missionary position. The stench of his sweat and musk only grew stronger. “I’ll murder you for this later, Mat—”

“Don’t say that... I’ll make you feel good...”

What happened later came in a hot haze. All you knew were his warm, calloused hands touching and grabbing at every inch of your body, the taste of his mouth, and how deep his thick cock was inside you. While he closed his eyes from how hot and tight you were, yours were wide open in pain.

It hurt so bad, you had to scratch his back up for stretching you beyond what you could handle.

“You liar... It hurts...!” You dug your fingernails into his skin as hard as you could. But that wasn’t enough to get back at him, so you ended up biting his neck. He responded in the worst way possible—Mathias rolled his eyes back and moaned, feeling himself get bigger and harder inside you.

“Ah... Keep biting me, kæreste... Go ahead and make me bleed...” He breathed into your neck.

Unfortunately for you, he loved it when you got feisty. Your anger turned him on more than you would’ve liked. Soon, he found himself thrusting harder into the spot between your legs.

Spreading them with two hands, he rolled his hips furiously into them. The bed squeaked faster. But you could barely hear them with his moans in your ear. He penetrated you, again and again, and all you could do was scratch up his broad, muscular back.

“Fuck you, Mat... Fuck you....” Sex with him was borderline painful, but it hurt so good. It was frustrating to know he had you wanting him so easily, so you began pulling on his hair.

“You... Son of a bitch...”

He was so turned on, it hurt. The only remedy was to go even harder, so he did—letting out a low groan into your neck, he curved his dick deeper inside you than ever before. You were his medicine, and he wanted to take advantage of that to get the comfort you always gave him.

“Ah—” You threw your head back as a sharp pain shot through your abdomen. Mathias was always doing what he wanted, with or without your say. He may have been royalty, but here in the bedroom, he was meant to be your equal. 

But it never felt that way as he pinned you down with his weight and pounded you in, slapping his balls against you with every hard slam. 

He even found it in himself to hold your neck with both hands. To choke you gently as he slowly reached his zenith, then came deep inside you.

“Mat—” Your plea for him to pull out was cut short by his continuous thrusts. As he stuffed you with his hot, frothy load, you could only pant for air. You couldn’t even close your legs to stop it from happening, as he’d made himself comfortable between them. “Ah—you can’t...”

He was being so reckless, so selfish, and what went through his lust-stricken mind was this—if he did this, he could get you to stay. He was twisted with perversion, evident in how he panted like a dog as he rode out his orgasm, uncaring of the consequences.

His semen splattered out and pooled on the mattress. You were too lightheaded to see the mess he was making. With your mouth wide open, he’d loom his head over yours and spit generously into it. He never let you off without swallowing every last drop of it.

“Ew...” Forcing it down your throat with a gag, he smiled floatily when he heard you gulp.

The night was young, and he’d only just started.

He fucked you into the mattress for hours. Drowning himself in the moans that poured out of your mouth like a faucet, he showed a floaty smile as he overwhelmed you with pleasure. He’d shatter your mind until he was the only thing you could ever think about ever again. Breathing slowly as he slid himself in and out of your tight, wet, tunnel, he screwed you silly until your legs were shaking.

Mathias was a huge guy, and a freakishly strong one at that, so he had no trouble holding you in all sorts of positions to make love to you—from the back, against the wall, in front of the mirror, even on the balcony. No matter how he decided to enter you, some things remained constant. 

He held you up against the wall with one hand, while the other squeezed and fondled your breasts. Your skin was so soft and inviting under his calloused hand, he could never get enough of it. But the inside was a temptation he couldn’t resist.

“You’re sucking me in so well...” Mathias moaned, feeling your lips pepper him with kisses. Somewhere along the line, you gave in to him, driven by the carnal desire to make love with him. He couldn’t be happier. He wanted to make you feel good, and he’d start by thrusting upwards into you at a furious pace.

Catching you in a steamy gaze, he fanned his hot, labored breath over your mouth as he came inside your womb. You threw your head back in ecstasy as he kept rolling his hips, stimulating your clit from the inside, which was now sopping with cum.

He kept shooting jets of semen into your core, and by the time he stopped, you’d reached an intense orgasm. Pressing a hard kiss to your cheek, he carried you back to bed as the exhaustion began to catch up to him. When he collapsed, he never bothered to pull out—he fell asleep inside you.

He got what he wanted, having claimed you with his seed painted all over and inside your body. It was safe to say that you smelled more like him than he did himself.

Mathias couldn’t be more satisfied with these developments. He finally went all the way with you, and knew damn well what this meant. He had to protect you like your life was his own. Not that he needed that incentive in the first place.

Everything hit you the morning after.

You just made love with the prince, and if that wasn’t bad enough, it was all unprotected. Sitting up after the deepest sleep you’ve had in a while, you lingered your panicked gaze on him for a few moments before stumbling out of bed. Immediately, you felt something warm trail down your legs. He really pushed the envelope last night, and you were left to deal with the consequences.

After a quick bath, you got dressed in the fastest, most discrete way possible. The frantic shuffling and rustling of fabric filled the bedroom, followed by your footsteps against the wooden floorboards. With one last strained look at the lump under the covers, then the foot hanging off the frame, you left the cabin.

The first thing you did upon arriving back at the castle was finding Ida. She was the closest thing you had to a mother in this palace, and she did exactly what a mother would—she held you close and told you everything would be okay. Then, she brewed up a last-minute contraception for you to drink.

You were skeptical it would do anything, but it was worth a shot.

Once you downed the last of the hot liquid, bile rose in your throat for the beginnings of a long-needed cry. While you choked back sobs, she rubbed soothing circles in your back and watched you intently.

“You’ll be alright. Just do as I say, skat.” She spoke gently. Her voice was barely coherent under the sounds of your sniffling. “In two weeks, you’ll have to pack your things and go to the stables. Mathias has tea with the visiting princesses that afternoon, so—” Your brows came together for a face of pain. It was already hard to not cry, but hearing that was the tipping point. Your heart was completely shattered.

Launching yourself into her arms, she hugged you tight and closed her eyes.

“—my sweet angel. Come here.” Rocking you back and forth, she rubbed your hair comfortingly before continuing. “He loves you, I can tell. But this can’t go on. He’s the prince, and you’re the most valuable treasure this Earth has ever known. You have a life ahead of you, skat. Live it. He only has a tedious future ahead of him.”

While she spoke, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her you wanted to be with him. Because no matter how tedious, boring, and serious his duties were, you just knew he had a way of making it exciting. And Mathias? He may as well be the person you held closest to your heart.

However, like Ida mentioned, it was a naïve fantasy ought to be stamped out. Surely, Mathias would come to his senses and agree.

“That afternoon at four, he’ll be too occupied to look for you. When that time comes, you go to the stables and ride out as fast as the wind can carry you.” The woman instructed, untying the purple ribbon that held up her graying brown hair. Tying that around your wrist, she pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “The horses will know you, so they won’t make a fuss. They’ll come back after dropping you off at my house.”

Quitting a job at the palace isn’t hard, skat. Her words replayed in your mind as you scurried to the horses outside. But getting away from the prince? Very. When he sets his eyes on something, he latches onto it and never lets go. Tightening the flaps of your cloak, you climbed onto the back of your absolute favorite—Destiny. A lively brown Jutland you’ve recently befriended.

She neighed and chuffed, then paced around to find the exit. With a mighty kick, she galloped off with you. Then, you rode off without looking back.

And he’s crazy about you. Can’t imagine why.

Mathias awakened an hour after you left the cabin. Immediately, he flipped the place upside down to look for you. Every minute that passed where he couldn’t find you, the tighter his chest became. Where had you gone? Had you returned to the palace already? A sick churning in his stomach began. If you did, why didn’t you tell him?

Fortunately, you were still around. Just not in the way you used to be. Ever since that night at his cabin, you’ve been ignoring him. And it made him miserable. You’ve gone from a friend to a stranger.

To the indifferent servant you were meant to be.

He tried everything he could to get you to talk to him, then open up to him again, but all you did was excuse yourself curtly before he could show you those watery eyes you couldn’t resist. Mathias even tried cornering you, but you weren’t above pushing him away, or kicking him where the sun didn’t shine.

Two weeks went by giving him the cold shoulder. But it never shook his resolve.

On the morning of his most dreaded day, he asked Ida where you were. You were too busy with your cleaning duties. He’d heard that one before.

It did beg the question, however, as to just how bad was the kitchen explosion that they needed the assistance of the prince’s maid? He didn’t have time to think about it. Today was the day he’d been dreading, and Victor couldn’t stop hounding him at lunch to bring his best manners.

But most importantly, to make a decision.

He already did, he just needed to scrape together the courage to announce it. Fortunately, the tedious intricacies of refined conversations about nothing in particular did its job as the pep talk he needed. He couldn’t marry any of these women, let alone like them at all. While he studied them, he found himself comparing each and every one of them to you.

They never came half as close to touching where you were.

After forcing a polite smile to see them off, he ambled into the kitchen for a well-deserved drink. While he sipped from his glass, he studied the speckless, polished tiles. Then, he wondered to himself where the explosion could’ve taken place, especially one that was so huge that it apparently engulfed the ceiling.

That was when his advisor sauntered in.

“Charming ladies, all of them. I’m sure the decision will be quite difficult. Any contenders?” Victor waggled his eyebrows for a suggestive grin. “Well, I personally really like the one from—”

“I guess I have a dark horse in the running.”

The other blinked. “Oh, you do?”

Mathias downed everything in his glass. Then, he caught the other in a serious stare. Whenever he wore such an unreadable face like this, something completely unexpected was bound to slip from the prince’s mouth. Victor just hoped he wouldn’t say Lady Ingrid.

“Was there a huge clean-up in the kitchen a few hours ago?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I heard a huge explosion happened here. Did it get cleaned up already?” The Dane mused, setting his cup down so he could fold his arms together.

Already, he had a sneaking suspicion he’d been played like a fiddle. This assumption was proven to be correct as the older man shot him a look of confusion. “Whatever do you mean, an explosion? There will never be explosions in the castle so long as I’m around.” Victor scoffed amusingly.

Mathias’s nostrils flared. Ida lied to him. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he scrambled off without another word. Hooking his hand on the door frame, he booked it out of the kitchen and sprinted down the crimson red halls. Victor chased after him for a few strained jogs—“and your dark horse, my prince? Who is it?” He called out breathlessly.

With a brief look over his shoulder, he shouted back.

“My maid!”

“Your what?”

Carrying with him nothing but a small velvet box, he flung himself onto the back of his horse. Smoke, a black stallion he had shipped all the way from the Middle East. The creature jumped up on its hind legs for a loud neigh—“C’mon, Smokey. Don’t let me down!” It trotted around the hay-strewn dirt before the prince whipped the reins. “Hya!”

Racing through the streets in nothing but a blur, he stopped everywhere to ask around for his missing person—a young girl on a palace horse.

His exhaustive efforts proved fruitless as hours went by. You were gone, and if he wasn’t fast enough, you could be gone forever. Just where could you be? There was only one place he hadn’t checked, but he highly doubted you were there. It couldn’t be that easy, could it? Either way, he wasn’t giving up.

Galloping into a familiar neighborhood, he was welcomed warmly by familiar faces to match. There on the side of the street, stood a middle-aged man with spectacles.

“Is that you, Mathias?” It was the royal doctor, and he’d just gone home after a long work day. The prince couldn’t explain it, but he couldn’t be happier seeing him out of all people. “My, if you ride out that recklessly, you’ll hurt yourself again!”

“Sorry, Noah. I’m in a hurry.” He panted, his horse trotting back a few steps.

“A hurry? Where are you going?”

“Wherever she is. I don’t know. I’m trying to find her.”

Noah raised his head thoughtfully. His eyes gleamed when it finally occurred to him.

“You’re looking for the maid.”

Mathias was more taken aback than anything. Since when did his doctor become that attuned to his emotional troubles? “How did you know?”

“Everything Ida knows, I know.” The other replied, tipping his hat. “Don’t worry. She’s not far. Although I have to say, she may not be happy to see you.”

He breathed out a nervous huff.

“We’ll see about that.”

Arriving into the front yard of a house, he hopped off his horse and rubbed its face. He approached the front door and knocked anxiously. He was light-headed from hunger, and the anxiety exacerbated that into nausea. But the only thing on his mind was seeing you again. Reaching for his back pocket, he pulled out the box again and waited.

The strong gallops outside immediately alerted you of your visitor. It was Mathias, no doubt.

What were you thinking, hiding at Ida’s like it wasn’t the first place he’d check? There was something in the air, for a while now, too, and it wasn’t common sense. It had been there ever since you’d grown close to the prince. It was like smoke that dulled your senses and blurred mirrors, burned from the impetuous fire of youth itself.

In your defense, it affected him more than it did you.

He knocked on the door a few times.

You didn’t answer.

He knocked again. While you responded with the silent treatment, he walked over to the window and knocked on that. “I know you’re in there, (F/N). Come out so we can talk.” Mathias called, falling quiet to listen out for an answer. “Noah said you’d be here.”

Bringing your knees into your chest, you sucked in a sharp breath before finally breaking your silence.

“Go away!”

As faint as your voice was, he heard you loud and clear. Didn’t mean he’d listen to you, though. With a deep frown, he made his way to the front door. While he studied the details of it, like how he could knock it off its hinges in one go, he said this—

“You should know by now how stubborn I am. I’m not doing that until I see you.”

Taking a few steps back, he barreled right into the door like an ox and knocked it down. “Gh—”

“Mat, what the hell! You’re paying for that!” You exclaimed, scrambling off the couch to examine the mess he’d made in the living room. When you pinned him as tenacious, you’d been too correct. He really had no idea to take no for an answer. He paid no mind to the earful you were giving him, and instead, bent down on one knee.

“You are honestly, the single-most stupidest man alive. I feel sorry for the future of this kingdom. You’ll run it down to the ground.” You rambled, giving your head a hard shake. While you spoke, you felt a familiar heat rush up to your face again.

How was it that every time you thought about him, he always managed to have this much emotional leverage over you? You hated that two weeks was all it took for you to miss him. And yet, you were talking about plans of getting away.

“But that’s fine because I’m getting out of here. I’ll move far far away where you won’t find me.”

Mathias held out the box and opened it, revealing a brilliant silver ring inside.

You’d been so distracted tearing him a new one, you never realized the scene that unfolded. When you finally processed what he was doing, the first few tears fell down to your chin. This man was impossible. “If you want an answer, it’s no. It’s always gonna be no. Okay? No.”

“Would you at least think about it?”

“I already did! No. What’s so hard to understand about a two-letter word?” No matter what you told him, his will was unshakeable. It showed in his serious, unreadable, expression, and if you’d known how dangerous a sign that was the first time you saw it, you would’ve learned to avoid him. Taking your hand, he slid on the ring without your permission.

Shocked by his audacity, you swatted at him, throwing the ring off as a result.

Letting out a gasp, you whipped your head to where you tossed it. But in your moment of distraction, he lifted you off your feet—“just come back to the castle with me, kæreste. I miss you.” Mathias pleaded, holding you high enough so that you needed to hold his face to stabilize yourself.

Hearing his sincerity, then feeling his hands on you was all it took to reduce your resolve to a crumpled heap on the floor.

“Why won’t you just think with your head for once?” Catching his fervent kisses, you’d lean down and let him occupy your mouth furiously—“Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“You know I can’t.” He showed another floaty smile, but this one was more bittersweet than anything. “I’ll follow you forever if I have to.”

He swept you away, yet again.

You returned to the castle as his maid, continuing your precarious relationship with him. Victor was eventually fired and replaced by Noah’s brother. Ida couldn’t be happier with that decision. And the prince? He never brought up the ring again.

Instead, he’d watch you in the halls, behind the doors, holding it in his palm to wait for the right moment. It might’ve been a lot to ask for from a tenacious man like him, but for months, years, it was the one thing he was willing to be patient for.

mine.

featuring: Kaji Ren x f!reader

contains: possessive!Ren, established relationship, doggy, creampie, marking, spanking, dirty talk

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

word count: 1.2k

masterlist

You didn’t think Kaji Ren would be a jealous boyfriend. After all, you two had been friends for years before you got together and he’d never shown any indication that he was jealous of your previous boyfriends - despite admitting he had liked you basically the whole time you’ve known each other.

So you don’t think anything of it when a guy from your college class approaches you one day. You’re in a coffee shop on campus, studying for an assignment while Kaji sits opposite you, headphones on as he plays with his phone. He likes to take you out on proper dates but most of the time you spend together is like this – companionable silence, doing separate activities together.

You don’t look up until a shadow appears over you, breaking you out of your studious fervour.

“Hey, y/n.”

You vaguely recognise him – Ken or Kai maybe? – but you’re not sure why he’s approaching you. Kaji doesn’t look like he’s paying attention, his ankle resting on his knee as he sits slumped back in his chair, lollipop in mouth.

“Hi,” you say without mentioning his name which you’re still wracking your brain to remember. “What’s up?”

“Sorry to interrupt.” His smile is friendly but you can see the nerves behind it. “Mind if I buy you a coffee?”

Ooooh.

Understanding dawns on you. Your eyes flick over to Kaji but he’s still looking at his phone as his thumb scrolls. You don’t know if he even heard over his music.

“I’m flattered, thank you, but I have a boyfriend.” You give him an apologetic smile.

“Ah.” Your classmate’s cheeks are tinted red but he holds his hands up. “Fair. Sorry, I didn’t realise.”

As he walks away, you glance at Kaji again. When he doesn’t look back, you shrug to yourself and go back to studying. It’s only when you go back to your shared living space later that Kaji says something. Or rather, does something.

You walk into the kitchen, about to check the fridge for snacks when you feel his hand on your hip, stopping you still. Kaji brushes the hair from your neck before planting a soft kiss there. You sigh and lean back against him, feeling his solid chest.

“Mmm, that feels nice, Ren,” you close your eyes, reaching behind your to card your fingers through his hair.

Kaji doesn’t say anything but his grip gets tighter on your hip, pulling your ass flush to him and his kisses get rougher. You feel his teeth nip at your neck before soothing it with his lips. His free hand tangles in your hair, pulling your head to the side to expose your neck further to him.

You’re already putty in his hands, sighing softly as he sucks bruising kisses against your skin.

“Marks have faded,” Kaji eventually mumbles, his lips never leaving your neck. “Need to give you more.”

Your eyes flutter open.

“Is this about that guy earlier?”

Kaji doesn’t say anything but makes an irritated noise so you can guess that's a yes.

The hand he had on your hip moves to the front of you, sliding under your dress to palm your clothed pussy. His rough kisses on your neck has got you wet already. The feel of you sopping for him makes Kaji’s cock strain against his jeans.

“Mine,” he says, his fingers snaking under your panties to play with your needy pussy.

You gasp, back curving as he strokes your clit, using your arousal to trace slippery circles around your bud. Kaji wraps his other hand around your throat, holding you to him as his fingers continue to nudge you closer to the edge.

“You understand me?” Kaji growls in your ear.

“Yours, Ren,” you whimper, your legs starting to feel weak.

To your dismay, he pulls his fingers away. The hand he has around your throat moves to the back of your neck as he pushes you down, bending you over the kitchen counter. You’re pinned in place by his strong grip but you hear him unbutton his jeans behind you.

Kaji hooks his fingers under your panties, pulling them to the side as he grabs the flesh of your ass. The sight of your bent over before him, your puffy lips glistening with your arousal makes all the blood rush to his cock. Kaji strokes himself a few times, eyes glued to your cunt, before nudging his fat mushroom tip past your lips. He presses up against your hole, feeling the tight ring of resistance.

“Who’s pussy is this?” Kaji’s voice is thick with need but he wants to hear you say it first.

“Yours, Ren.” You splay your hands on the counter, preparing yourself for what’s coming. “All of me is yours.”

A smirk plays on Kaji’s lips as he thinks of the guy from the coffee shop, how badly he’d want to be in Kaji’s position right now. But he can’t have you. You’re his.

“Mine,” he growls before slamming himself inside you.

You cry out at the sudden violation, your pussy stretched to accommodate him. Kaji keeps one hand on the back of your neck, holding you in place as he draws back. He loves the way your pussy grips his cock, pulling him back every time he withdraws, your needy cunt desperate to be full of him.

You whine as he continues to pound away at you, the thick veins of his cock dragging against your nerves, his fat tip reaching deep inside you. Not content with only marking your neck, Kaji takes his hand from your neck so he can land a hard slap against your ass cheek. You yelp at the sudden sting, your skin on fire, but your pussy responds, clenching around him.

“Fuck, don’t squeeze me so tight,” Kaji grunts. “Can’t fucking think straight.”

He slaps your ass again, leaving a bright red handprint that’s sure to bruise. Pleased, Kaji returns his hand to your neck, squeezing the sides of your throat as he fucks your harder.

His cock rubs against the sensitive spot inside you at a relentless pace, making your mouth fall open. You’re sprinting headfirst into an orgasm and Kaji can feel it, the way your plush walls hold him like a vice grip.

“Ren-!” you squeal, legs buckling as pleasure consumes you, rippling from your pussy through to the tips of your toes.

The feel of you creaming on his cock always encourages Kaji’s own orgasm. His eyes are glued on where his girth slides in and out of you, shiny with your combined juices. He watches the way your ass jiggles with each thrust, your lips tight around his cock.

“Fuck…” He pistons himself in and out of you as his own high overtakes him, knowing he gets to mark you on the inside as well. “Fuck!”

Kaji shoots thick ropes of cum deep inside you, coating your walls with his sticky seed. His cock twitches as he releases everything he has, not wanting to waste a drop even as it spills from your pussy.

Kaji pulls his softening cock free and tugs your panties back into place, enjoying the way his cum soaks through the fabric. You straighten to standing, Kaji letting you lean on him with your shaky legs. You catch him smirking at the purple bruises on your neck and touch them tenderly.

“Are they obvious?” you ask, the flesh still sore.

“Yeah,” Kaji says with satisfaction. “Definitely.”

masterlist

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wind breaker boys - how they eat you out.

featuring: Haruka Sakura, Ren Kaji, Hajime Umemiya

contains: f!reader, cunnilingus (obvs), some orgasm control from Kaji, mild somnophilia from Umemiya

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

word count: 1k

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

Haruka Sakura loves eating you out but he’s too damn shy to ask most of the time. You have to make it obvious you want it too, pushing his head down while you’re making out on his bed.

“Want to feel your tongue, Haru,” you tell him, an ounce of begging in your voice. “Please.”

His face goes beet red but he obliges, hiding his blushing cheeks by pressing kisses against your stomach and thighs. The first time Sakura went down on you, he was a mess – he tried his best, but he didn’t know what he was doing and the pressure of wanting to make you feel good nearly made his head explode.

Still, Sakura’s always open to gentle instruction and you let him know exactly what to do. Now, as he presses the flat of his tongue against your clit, one finger pressing inside your hole, he knows exactly how to make you cum.

You lie back with a content sigh and your boyfriend deftly laps at your sensitive bud, your fingers tangled in his two-tone hair. When you look down at see his gold and black eyes looking back at you, intent and hungry, it sets off butterflies in your stomach.

Sakura sucks on your clit with the exact pressure you like as his finger strokes against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. You’re a sopping mess before long, moaning and gasping his name. Sakura swears he could listen to you like this all day.

Yeah, it might have taken him a couple attempts but god, can he make you cum.

Ren Kaji loves how helpless you get when he eats you out.

Yeah, he loves the taste of you and he loves making you cum, but he loves the control he has over getting you there the most. To Kaji, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.

He especially likes it when you’re trying to concentrate on something else. Like now, when you’re at the desk in your bedroom, trying to study. Kaji had been on your bed as you both sat in companiable silence, the way you both like to do. But when he looked up from his phone and saw the adorable notch between your brow and the way you nibbled at the top of your pencil, he couldn’t help himself.

Kaji tugs off his headphones and stands, crossing the space between you. You’re so absorbed in your study, you don’t realise he’s there until his sucker appears before you.

“Oh. Thanks, Ren,” you say before opening your mouth and taking it.

“I’ll get in a back in a bit.”

You don’t register what he means until he crawls under the desk, making space between your thighs.

“What- Ah!”

You gasp as you feel his tongue against your clothed pussy, wet and hot. You go to wheel your chair backwards but Kaji has a firm hold of the wheels, locking you in place.

“Just keep going, babe,” he mumbles from between your legs.

You’re not sure how you’re supposed to do that when Kaji’s thick tongue pushes past your panties to lick at your folds. You take a deep breathe and try to steady your thumping heart. It’s fine, you tell yourself. I can still concentrate.

You try to refocus your eyes on the paper in front of you but the words are scrambled. Kaji takes his time, lazily swirling his tongue over your clit before sucking on your lips. His sucker rattles over your teeth as your mouth falls open, a sigh escaping.

“R-Ren,” you stammer. “I need to – ah – study.”

“I’m not stopping you,” Kaji says before lapping at your clit.

The sweet sounds you make are the only thing that makes not wearing his headphones bearable. You reach down under the desk and card your fingers through his hair, tugging at the root. You angle your hips slightly giving him better access. Kaji uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into your hole, tasting your arousal.

You’ve totally given up on studying, your thighs locking around his head as Kaji brings you close to orgasm but not quite reaching it. You’re impatient and whiny, your hips bucking for more friction against his mouth but Kaji holds back slightly.

Kaji isn’t in any hurry – he wants this to take as long as possible. He knows when you’re dripping and so, so needy, it’ll be worth it.

Hajime Umemiya would live between your legs if he could. Whether it’s his cock or his face that’s buried in your pussy, he doesn’t care. As long as he’s close to you, he’s happy.

That’s why it’s one of his favourite ways to wake you up.

You look so angelic when he wakes up next to you, sleeping soundly on his chest. Umemiya presses gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks until your stir but you’re not quite awake yet.

“Shh, it’s okay, angel,” he says quietly. “I’ll take care of you.”

Umemiya carefully rolls you onto your back, nestling himself between your legs. Your thighs spread automatically for him, which makes him smile and kiss your inner thigh.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he praises.

You’re both still naked from the night before and Umemiya is pleased there’s no obstacles between you, no physical barriers between your bodies. He loves the intimacy he gets to share with you.

Softly, he licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, watching for your reaction. You stir again slightly so he licks another stripe. Deeper this time before circling your sensitive bud.

“Mmm,” you moan lightly, still mostly asleep.

Umemiya finds your hands next to you and intertwines his fingers with yours as he continues to make out with your puffy cunt. His mouth is flush with your pussy as he strokes the flat of his tongue across your clit.

“H…Haji…?” Your voice is thick with sleep but your body is responding on its own, your hips grinding against Umemiya’s mouth.

“Good morning, angel,” he pulls back slightly to say before planting another wet kiss against your clit.

“Good… ah!  Good morning, Haji.” You smile down at him, squeezing your fingers between his. “That feels so good.”

Umemiya moans into your pussy, his tongue picking up speed to a pace he knows you like. You gasp and throw your head back against the pillow, fully awake now.

And god, what a way to wake up.

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WICKED DRAGON, LAY WASTE TO ME

⤀ synopsis: neuvillette has always been the gentlest of lovers—and so tonight you ask him not to hold back ⤀ cw: afab!reader, unprotected + rough sex, size kink, praise, overstimulation, breeding + creampie, marking, monsterfucking (dragon cock), cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, dumbification, mentions of mates, lil bit of dom!neuvi (??) but he is still sweet — mdni || ꒰ 8.4k wc ꒱ a/n: leviathan fic for leviathan neuv ( i’m not talking abt his constellation ) rbs + feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡

“Well? What do you think?” You come home, twirling before him in a gown, different than the one you had left in. The short hem at the front lifts mischievously, teasing just a peek of what lies underneath, while the longer, flouncing layers of skirts behind you, wrap flirtatiously around your legs. Neuvillette feels his throat run dry.

“Navia and Clorinde thought it was high time I changed my look, and you know I can’t ever say no to Chioriya Boutique.” 

While he’s spent the better part of the night reviewing court documents in the parlor, you have been out with Navia and Clorinde, who he thinks have perhaps plotted to kill him. ‘Girls’ night,’ you had called it.

Draped in a vivid palette of the finest fabrics, decorated interchangeably with delicate metalwork and dainty ribbons, the blush on his pale skin is ever-present as he rakes his eyes up and down your body. The dark, patterned stockings, squeezing your thighs just enough, so that supple flesh spills obscenely over the top, the tight, whale-boned embrace of your corset, accentuating the curves of your waist, and pushing upwards the swell of your breasts…

A coy smile graces your features when you catch how his throat bobs in his silence. Giggling, you lean down, tracing the tip of your finger up the contours of his neck, skimming the gentle curve beneath his chin until you’ve tilted his gaze to yours. “Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, got nothing to say?”

How can he even think, much less find the right words to say, when the familiar scent of your perfume fills his head with indecent, lascivious thoughts? Everything about you is intoxicating, almost insidiously attractive, so would it suffice to say that he’d much rather see your pretty, new dress abandoned somewhere on the floor? 

That first pulse of arousal translates into the first twitch of his cock, and oh how he wishes to kiss away your teasing little grin, but his lust-driven eyes are drawn to the miniscule movements of your bodice sleeve, predatory as he watches how it begins to shift, ever so slowly, off your shoulders. 

“If you don’t like it, then perhaps…” You loosely roll your shoulder, letting the sleeve slide right off. “…you’d like to help me undress?”

That, he will gladly do. His hands fly to your waist, dragging you down into a straddle over his hips. 

“Temptress,” he murmurs into the skin of your neck, distracting you with a featherlight kiss as his nimble fingers waste no time in undoing the delicate clasps of your bodice, leaving the heavy outer garment to tumble off your shoulders, abandoned in a pile at your waist. 

Cool air licks at the now exposed skin, though it’s nothing compared to the warmth of his lips as he slots his mouth against yours, gently coaxing you open with a subtle swipe of his tongue. Your eyes flutter shut in honeyed complacence, allowing Neuvillette to kiss you slow and sweet; impassioned, ardent, each kiss an oath of love and longing and lust. 

Desire blooms like romaritime flowers upon water, and you just know the tension underneath his placid exterior, is ready to burst. It’s prevalent in the way his muscles grow taut, tense beneath your every touch, fighting to hold himself back as your legs squeeze around his hips. Demonstrated, again, by how he pulls apart your corset, impatient and haphazard as he unlaces each cross, before tossing it to the ground, forgotten. And of course, only you can attest to the searing sensations of his escalating kisses—gentle wisps, once faint and docile, now wanton and heated with depravity. 

You can already feel it in your chest, in your bones, in the wetness that’s begun to form between your legs; maybe it’s the anticipation, but despite the layers of clothing you’ve already shed, you find it even harder now to breathe, especially as he holds you so close, body pressed against yours, while he traces the bare curve of your neck with his lips. 

For one with such a carefully crafted visage of elegance and poise, Neuvillette becomes sloppier as his restraint fades and lust seeps through the cracks. Something about you drives him wild, draws out the more carnal side of him that he so desperately seeks to hide away from you, who he could never even dream of hurting. 

But perhaps he’s spent too much time amongst humans. Or perhaps he understands their nature more than he had initially believed, for he makes the most human mistake of all in letting his control slip—enough that his fangs graze upon your sensitive skin, sending a shiver that reaches all the way down to your core, eliciting a moan so mellifluous, he cannot help but utter a sigh of strained content as the undeniably sweet sound reaches his ears.

“If we don’t stop now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold back,” he mutters, tongue laving over the spot in apology. It doesn’t help that you voluntarily crane your neck, offering him even more access in your heated bliss. His fingers dig into your waist in a silent plea to still your rolling hips. 

“So don’t,” you breathe. “Don’t hold back tonight.” Desperate to have him closer, you arch into him, the loose material of his shirt firmly clasped in your hands, deepening the kiss with a quick tug, a silent request for him to let go, but he immediately halts his movements, pulling away in hesitance. 

Oh Neuvillette. Your sweet Neuvillette, who in spite of his stern exterior, is the gentlest of lovers—always so tender with you and steadfast in placing your pleasure before his. You know of his draconic origins, know that he holds back in fear of hurting you, but for all the times he’s pleased you to the fullest extent, you only wish to do the same for him.

Your hand reaches to cup his face and he leans into your familiar touch, steely eyes soft. “It’s okay, I trust you.”

It’s already difficult denying you anything on a normal basis, so how can he, now that you sit, straddled over him, determination colored in your bright eyes, and with nothing but flimsy cloth left between the two of you. His eyes linger at your chest, the scooping neckline of your lace slip doing nothing to hide the smooth crests of your collarbones, begging to be marked. 

Neuvillette sucks in a breath, and attempts to swallow his doubts, before exhaling. He can no longer ignore the tightness in his groin, and to you, it’s clear that the obvious erection poking from beneath his trousers, speaks much louder than the uncertainty storming in his eyes. Perhaps he just needs one more push…

Your fingers come to curve around the sharp lines of his jaw, unwavering as you tilt his head up into your gaze. “Don’t worry about me, I can take it.”

His heart threatens to leap out of his chest in a flash of excitement, gratitude, desire; it’s far from the first time you’ve lain together, but to choose to bear such vulnerability before him, to surrender yourself to a full-fledged dragon… He glides his hands over the round slopes of your shoulders, easily sliding off the straps of your slip as he goes. The silk garment collapses down your torso, piling atop your forgotten dress. 

“If that is truly what you wish…” He presses an openmouthed kiss to the bare skin between your breasts, and the warmth of his breath runs a chill even colder than the night air. His whispers hide a growl, and despite the blush apparent at the tips of his pointed ears, his hold on your waist tightens. One hand slides down to grasp at your rear, and you can feel him smile against your lips, the rattle of a faint chuckle rippling in his throat before your breath hitches as he picks you up in his arms, and carries you off to the bedroom. 

He sets you by your shared bed, tearing off his now wrinkled shirt, while you wriggle out of whatever’s left of your dress, until both sets of clothing are discarded somewhere on the floor, and you’re finally left in only your panties and your stockings.

Immediately, his hands find your waist, roaming up and down over your curves as he smothers you in hungry kisses, herding you along until the backs of your knees hit the edge of your shared bed. This Neuvillette nips at your bottom lip, not asking for, but demanding entrance into your mouth, and you have no choice but to let him in, what with the way he makes you whine as he sneaks his hands down to knead the globe of your ass, before lowering you onto the bed. 

The tingling sensations bloom in your stomach, buzzing with excitement while you ready yourself to surrender completely—pliant to his will, whatever it may be. Arousal swallows you like the sea and he has yet to even really touch you. Impatient, your hand wanders, though not far down enough before you’re caught in his grasp. 

“Patience…” he mutters, pinning your wrist beside your head, broad shoulders caging you in between him and the sheets. His other hand follows the natural lines of your body, tracing along the edges until he stops to fondle one of your breasts. 

It’s impossible to relax your speeding heart at this side of Neuvillette: less reserved in his touches, more candid in his wants. The untreated heat in your body makes sure to touch on every part of you, running like water through your veins, until you’re sure your dripping cunt is pulsing with a heart of its own. Unable to stand the ache any longer, you wriggle beneath him—rolling your hips and squirming until your knee unwittingly brushes against his crotch, eliciting a choked grunt from him, only slightly muffled by the fact that his teeth have dug their way into your exposed flesh. 

He immediately pulls away at the sound of your surprised yelp, eyes darting to and fro across your features in frantic search for even the smallest semblance of discomfort, completely missing the way your entire body had seemed to arch into his touch. His eyes finally settle at the light indentations now displayed upon your once unblemished skin.

“Forgive me,” he begins, “I should have been more careful.” Neuvillette is ever the gentleman, but his voice is clearly strained in a poor attempt at fighting back his instincts—instincts that demand a dragon to mark what is his. 

“There’s nothing to forgive.” A soft smile graces your lips as your hand reaches to cradle his face, curling around his jaw in hushed reassurance. It’s so easy to read the thoughts that plague him so. “It felt good, I promise.”

True to your word, his heightened senses easily pick up on the scent of pure arousal that drifts from between your legs, swirling in the air, and lulling him into a state he’s kept buried for so long, he’s unsure of whether he’d be able to hold himself back even if he wanted to. He admires your bravery for daring to poke at the slumbering beast; bravery he knows stems from a place of passion, but how can he release such inhibitions upon a mere human? So physically… fragile. 

“I meant what I said: I can take it. And I know you won’t hurt me so…” Your fingers clasp around his shoulders, pulling your lover down just far enough to whisper, low and sultry, in his pointed ear.

“Don’t you dare look down on me, o’ hydro dragon sovereign..” 

You lurch forward, manicured nails drawing light lines down his bare back, and he meets you halfway in a long, drawn out kiss. A quiet growl rumbles from deep within his throat, clearly aroused by the way you had drawled out his full title. He nips at your bottom lip, dragging out a single, short gasp before leaving to trail wet kisses down the column of your throat, never stopping until his lips hover over the very spot where he had previously made his mark. 

He doesn’t even have to touch you, just his presence, tangled with your own anticipatory excitement, invites a shudder so deep, you can feel it in your bones. The sharp edge of his fangs scrape along that still-sensitive patch of skin, lightly, as if testing the waters, though this time, he makes sure to take note of the quiver in your pretty little mewls. 

Slowly, he bites down again and a moan slips past your lips, forced out from the very depths of your chest as your fingers fly to tangle in his moonridden tresses. His hot breath seeps past the barrier of your skin, leaving every nerve privy to his effect, and combined with the building pressure, you’re left open for the stream of soft whimpers that leave the perfect ‘o’ of your parted lips. As he sinks his teeth deeper, you squeeze your eyes shut in the midst of all the pleasure.

“Do it again,” you gasp, “felt good… ”

And oh, he has absolutely every intention to, what with the way you’re putty underneath him. However, he must do something about how distracting your hands are when you tug at his hair: hard enough for him to groan with an ache so wanton, it sends tremors echoing down until his trousers feel far, far too tight. 

Neuvillette is neither here nor there when he alternates between kissing and sucking and biting at your tender flesh—anywhere is fair game when you’ve relinquished yourself to him like this. With how attentive his lips are along your body, you hardly even care for the absence of his hand when he reaches around to untie the ribbon in his hair… at least not until it’s too late and you're left bemused by the uncharacteristic display of boldness; after all, it’s all you can do when your wrists are suddenly so tightly bound overhead.

You whine as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, suckling and swirling his tongue, while he ravishes the other between his fingers. Heat surges through you and the aching desperation congregating in your belly begins to boil; you’ve never felt so sensitive, never been more pervasive to his touch.

Inside. You need him inside of you. But with your hands currently incapacitated, you’ve no other choice except to buck into him, beckoning him with your hips in the hopes of redirecting his attention to where you throb. 

“Inside. Please. I need you. Need you inside.” 

He hums in acknowledgement of your wishes, tugging at the hardened bud with his teeth, successfully wringing another shaky cry from your throat, before he finally pulls at the delicate lace of your panties, and guides them down the length of your legs. You easily kick them off, but in his observation, his piercing gaze catches every thrum of your muscles as they tense underneath the hand that finally trails between your thighs. He drags his lithe fingers between your folds, coating them in your slick, while his thumb rubs your clit in slow, but firm, circles. 

“My apologies for the wait.” Neuvillette kisses you right above your heart, where his acute hearing easily picks up how it palpitates as he dips his fingers into your velvet walls. “Allow me to make amends, my love.”

With the way your cunt gushes so copiously, it’s easy for him to slide all the way down to the last knuckle. He flicks his wrist, pumping fast and hard, scissoring you open before slipping in a third digit, drawing out mewl after pathetic mewl, as you fail to pull yourself together. The bedsheets twist beneath your incessant movements: simultaneously squirming not only from the initial stretch, but also to feel him deeper.

The discomfort is all too familiar, but with just the curl of his fingers, it washes away into unadulterated pleasure, just as it always does. But with your arms tethered, leaving you open and powerless, everything—every touch, every twist, every curl—feels tenfold.

Plus, no one would even believe you if you were to say that the chief justice had such a playful side in the bedroom; his fingers have explored your insides far too many times for him to just miss the little spot that he definitely knows by muscle memory. Whining, you buck your hips, senselessly grinding into his hand, hoping he’d get the message, hoping he’d quell your heat right at the source. 

But something dangerous and wild and primordial shines in the blue-violet glow of his eyes. For all the times you’ve made love together, he’s never seen you like this: so desperate, so needy for him. He pinches a nipple, hard, before locking your jolting hips down; a show of strength to remind you of your place. 

“Please, more.” Your voice rises in congruence with how you struggle against your ribbon-bound wrists. His fingers tease the spot again, this time with more force, and he watches as you keen and clench around him—helpless and at his mercy. 

With a curl, his fingers crook inside your silken walls, pistoning in and out, fast and hard. Arousal continues to build, turning the low squelches into distinct suctions. Every nerve in your body is ignited, seared by the heat as he laps at the overflowing wetness that seeps out of your entrance. A satisfied purr sounds in his throat, and the vibrations dare your hips to buck in spite of the iron grip that holds you down.  

It thrills him to see you steadily fall apart like this, coming so undone before him, dissolving under the weight of your pleasure. It’s just as you had wanted. More. So you can take it, can’t you? You can take more? 

Neuvillette slots your throbbing clit into his mouth, hot tongue relentlessly striking the swollen nub with viscous lashes, while his fingers continue to bully your insides with no intention of slowing down. Sucking harder, fucking faster—you keen at the added stimulation, back arching clean off the bed in blinding pleasure, unable to do anything more than let out jagged sobs as you cum.

Your entire body grows taut as he sees you through the end of this high, before finally drawing out with one last sleight of his hand, so that his fingertips might graze along the velvet top of your walls, bidding farewell with another shudder-inducing wave of euphoria. He exits his soiled digits, clearly pleased as he inspects the amount of slick that coats his elegant hand. 

“You’re absolutely divine.” He hums whilst licking up the side of his wrist, so as not to waste a single drop of your liquid pleasure. It’s intoxicating how exquisite you are, more decadent than even the most pristine of waters. “Perhaps you’d like a taste?”

His offer is rhetorical at best, as he answers for you, already slipping his slender fingers into your open mouth, tangling them with your tongue, until the first bits of drool begin to dribble from your lips. 

He unties your wrists, releasing them from the ribbon’s hold; time and experience have proven that you’ll need something to grasp onto. In a haste, Neuvillette discards what remains of his clothes, and his cock springs forward in all its glory: long and thick, pale tip leaking and thrumming with desire. 

“You’re absolutely sure… ?” he mumbles, voice trailing off, almost embarrassed. He can no longer control the way his hips twitch in excitement, begging to bury his cock into your warmth, but for his gentle heart’s sake, he needs to hear you say it again.

You laugh out a soft ‘yes’ but just for good measure, you rake your nails down his chest, applying just enough pressure to tickle his nerves. “Use me,” you goad. “Come on. Be wicked, my dragon.” 

Neuvillette exhales, chuckling softly at humanity's arrogance. Wicked dragon. If that was what you wanted... “I wonder if you’d still say the same after I’ve finished with you.”

He pins you back down in one fell move, and aligns himself to your entrance, stopping after inserting only the tip. A delicate whimper leaves your lips as you wince at that familiarly sweet stretch, but you and your little cunt are both so eager to please—the continued arousal you churn out, weeping nonstop, and already clenching around just his cockhead. You wriggle into him, trying to fuck yourself deeper on his fat cock as you adjust to his size. 

Reaching up, you pull him into a seemingly reassuring kiss, hands smoothing over the framing pieces of his hair, before curving around his jaw. His lips follow yours, but as you pull away and the short pieces of his hair fall back into place, you notice how his slitted reptilian pupils are dilated almost round. 

“You wish for me not to hold back,” his voice comes in a low growl as he inches further into your cunt, “so please show me how resilient you are.”

It’s all the warning you receive before he slides the rest of his length to the hilt, burying himself in your creamy insides. A shattered sob tears through the room, and your arms fly around his neck in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself, but it only pulls him closer as he leans more of his weight into you, pressing down and reinforcing the heavy plow of his merciless hips. 

Taking him all at once like this burns like wildfire. Pain from the sudden, rough stretch spreads hot and fast, the small embers bursting into a blaze of arousal as pleasure breezes through just as quickly—like air infinitely adding to an already devouring flame. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he praises, turning his head to reward a small kiss to your cheek. Your hole gushes, rushing to quell the heat, and the added lubrication helps you settle into his pace. Still, the dual sensations wash over you like the tide. It pulls you under, drowns you and consumes you with absolute ecstasy.

And just when you think you’ve grown accustomed, Neuvillette lifts your hips, aiming for the spot he knows will drag out the most wonderfully broken cries from your throat. Your nails dig into his back, and he groans at the vice grip as you clamp down around his cock. With each powerful thrust, he buries himself balls deep with a force that has your tits bouncing along to his rhythm, letting the wanton sound of your sobs ring throughout the room, loud enough to almost drown out the lewd noise of skin slapping upon skin. 

The coil in your belly is wound so tight that you’re sure it won’t be long until it collapses into itself. That it won’t be long until you yourself are about to implode, like a star ready to burst. 

“I’m going… going to…” Between the ragged breaths and the overwhelming sensations of ecstasy, you can’t even find it in yourself to think straight.

Neuvillette hums, his liquid smooth voice doing nothing to hide his amusement. “You’d do well not to break so soon.”

He thumbs your clit, drawing tight circles, ignoring the way you convulse beneath him. As your back arches, he drags the flat of his teeth from the edges of your collarbones, down through the valley between your breasts. 

Your entire body quivers, legs jolting by reflex to the intensity of your orgasm, vision blurring white as your lover continues to pound relentlessly through your high. There’s a layer of fuzziness over your mind that leaves you feeling as if you’re floating atop calm waters, but the fingers still thrumming on your abused nub are quick to drag you back into the salaciously dangerous depths of your own pleasure. 

A string of pitched whines follow in the aftermath, but the pretty noises you make has him throbbing even from within your tight hole. You ask him not to hold back, yet here you are before him, so small and pitiful, already writhing from the intensity—and he hasn’t even cum yet. 

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, your body struggling for a break from the stimulation, but Neuvillette finds it quite adorable, in the way that a predator might toy with its prey. He slows his thrusts, but reaches deeper with every roll of his hips, each languid stroke hitting the exact spot that fills your sight with stars. 

The lascivious sounds of your soaked cunt perfectly swallowing his cock, followed by the slap of his heavy balls on your ass—he’s mesmerized by the way he disappears and reappears, and disappears again inside of you. His heart skips, and he bucks, breaking his rhythm. You undo him like no other, and it spurs him on that he too, seems to have the same effect on you. The way your pussy holds on to him so tightly, the helpless cries of his name amidst your hiccuped whimpering… 

He lets out a small chuckle, breath hot and ragged in your ear as he sucks at the inch of skin below. “Surely you can give me another,” he murmurs, the low grumble of his voice reverberating all the way down, until you can feel the vibrations in the hollows of your collarbone. 

Your eyes flutter, desperately blinking away the wetness that has begun to gather at your lash line. Sweet Neuvillette, your Neuvillette who reveres you more than he ought to and touches you like you’re made of glass. Even through the numbing haze, you know that for him, you’d give anything. 

A long, stuttered moan breaks out from between your lips. As if biding his time, he drags the entirety of his cock along your walls, the large vein that wraps around the length gliding along just right, that your back arches and your knees bend. It’s not that he means to move so tortuously slow, but you squeeze him to such an extent that in spite of his aching need to cum, he cannot help but try and savor the delicious way your walls are gripping for dear life. 

Neuvillette pulls out with the sticky squish of your slick. His throbbing cock, long and flushed, glistens with the sheen of your juices. In the emptiness, you think that perhaps he’s taken pity on you and your now overly sensitive cunt, but that just isn’t fair. Not to him, nor you and your once again looming orgasm.

“You haven’t even cum yet,” you gasp, trying to argue through baited breath. The whole point of this was so that he could feel just as good as he always made sure you did. So why would he—

“I know.” 

You can feel him as he lifts you, flipping you over like you’re nothing more than a doll, and manhandles you onto all fours. Limbs weak, mind frazzled, you’re barely able to hold yourself up, so when he realigns himself at your entrance and slams back through your folds with just as much power as before, you quite literally fall apart. 

“Too much?” The low chuckle in your ear is dangerously taunting, wickedly amused and with no sign of its usual sweetness. You’re able to muster a pitiful whine, but the way your entire body trembles tells him everything he needs to know, as he reangles you mid-thrust.

“I believe you said you could take it.” With a particularly powerful snap of his hips, your arms buckle, and you collapse onto the mattress. The intensity continues to send you jolting forward, but his reaffirmed grip on your waist holds your hips in place.

Nothing deters him as he ruts into you, hitting deep new angles that have your fingers grasping at the sheets while your cunt grasps onto his cock. With every slap of his skin against yours, his tip threatens to kiss your cervix, the aftershocks rippling through you until they’re released as broken sobs, muffled into the bed. 

How unfortunate that such noises, so very sweet to his ears, would be hidden from the world. Tangling his fingers along your scalp, Neuvillette tugs at your hair, lifting your head back so as to hear the pretty melody you sing when your cries ring around the room. Good. Just as the whole of Fontaine should recognize a dragon’s mark on your skin, they too should hear it’s he who pleasures your body so.

Little bits of drool trickle out of your open mouth, your eyes rolling back as he keeps up the brutal pace. Everything feels too overwhelming, yet so tantalizingly good, that your back curves and you’re creaming around him again. 

Electricity shoots through your veins, your lungs desperately racing to catch up with the rapid beat of your heart. The stars painted across your vision drop down to your stomach, exploding with an intensity that rattles you to your core. It’s a flood with no remorse—taking and leaving nothing in return, easily washing away any and all thoughts, until you’re left mewling the name of the only one who could ever give you such a sweet taste of heaven. 

But Neuvillette continues to thrust into you, and as he, too, nears his peak, his tireless strokes finally melt into something a little more forgiving. Just a little. The long drag of his cock slides so smoothly against your slick walls, gentle enough to fool your delirious mind into loosening your grip around him. 

What trickery from the wicked dragon who slams his hips forward with enough force so that your body jostles with every push and pull as he hits all the right spots again and again. Trapped under the weight of his body, all you can do is feel: the heat of the room smothering all your senses, the fervorous thrusts pushing you to your very limit—all you can do is feel and take it as he kisses the spongy head of your cervix, leaving you without a semblance of sanity, blabbering indiscernible nothings that beg to milk him dry.       

“Want more,” you keen, voice as broken as the crystalline tears that roll down your cheeks and melt into the pillows. “Inside. Wan’ it inside.”

Neuvillette laughs, low and airy, strained as his grip tightens, fingertips digging into your hips hard enough that it’d be sure to leave bruises come the morrow. “Is that what you want?”

“Please, please I–” You stop to let out something between a pant and a moan. “Want you to, h-hah, cum inside, wan’ your cum inside me.” Your walls clamp down even harder, as if attempting to trap his cock deep inside you forever, as if you weren’t already tight enough around him. 

White fills his vision, and white fills your womb as Neuvillette cums to the knowledge that you love this. He takes in the sight of you, his precious treasure, now reduced to the likes of a common whore: legs quivering, ass in the air, cunt filled to the brim and leaking from where the two of you merge. All for him. By his doing. 

Such splendor automatically evokes the instinct to claim you in a way far beyond that of human understanding… but you’ve already let him indulge more than enough tonight; he couldn’t possibly ask for more. 

You whimper when you feel him stir again inside you, careful as he brushes past your too-sensitive folds, but even such simple movements hazard to relight the flicker of arousal once again. Every ridge and vein, drawn out so agonizingly slow, sends an inadvertent shiver down your spine until he finally pulls out with a squelch.  

There’s no hope in tearing those sharp, reptilian eyes away from your puffy cunt, abused and messy and leaking with your combined fluids. Neuvillette sucks in a breath, trying to suppress his urges as much as he’s trying to swallow down the desire quickly boiling over in his belly again. Cumming inside you—no, breeding you—was a privilege. For dragons such as he, it’s a ritual reserved only for mates, and given the difference in your physiology, he had never allowed himself to do so—at least not until now, that is. 

In his defense, you had begged for it, and how could he ever deny the very one whom he has entrusted his heart to—especially when you were so beautifully fucked out and unraveled on his cock like that. And perhaps he’s lived among humans long enough to forgive this indulgence as a paradigm of fleeting desire, though nothing of what he feels for you could ever be considered fleeting. 

He parts your folds with two slender fingers, giving himself a better view as his cum now seeps out with suent access. You whine again when you feel him drag his digits down the sides of your pussy lips, catching the overflow before it can fall onto the sheets, and stuffing it right back into your little hole. No point in stopping now, if he’s already committed his sin.

From your half-lidded gaze, you manage to steal a glance at your lover, and judging from the erection that still stands stiff as a rod, he has yet to be satiated. In the attempt to break through the shadow of delirium, you lift your head, shifting your weight back onto your elbows, and forcing your battered body to turn just the slightest bit over. 

“You’re still hard,” you note through staggered breath, “We can go again if you want.”

Neuvillette looks down as if he hasn’t already been feeling the near painful arousal throbbing in his groin. Of course he’s still hard—how could he not be; you’re so complacent before him, offering yourself to him like that. But perhaps he is too soft-hearted, for he only lets out a reassuring hum as he leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“You were beyond perfect tonight,” he murmurs. “It… might not be pleasurable for you if I continue anymore. I can finish myself.” 

Lovestruck, you shake your head. “I can take it r’member?” Your large eyes, red-rimmed and dreamy, plead for him to use you—use you to his own content, use you so that he’d feel just as good as he always makes you feel. You nibble at your bottom lip, bashful. “You can even use your other form if you'd like...” 

Your words catch him off guard, and he immediately stills in a half-hearted attempt to collect himself as another wave of pure, unadulterated desire pulses through his entire being. Neuvillette swallows hard before letting out a slow, shaky breath. His cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath the creamy skin that now seems to gleam with a soft shine, revealing scattered patches of effervescent cerulean scales. You affect him more than you could possibly know, revitalizing such carnal urges that ignore his will and allow his body to react so enthusiastically.

“You’re sure…?” His normally polished tone is husked in a defiant strain. Despite the way his pupils are blown wide and wild with lust, conflict still swims in the shallows of his expression, made clear by the way his voice rasps as he desperately claws to retain even a semblance of his composure. 

The tips of your fingers trace the blue streaks that protrude from the crown of his silver head, now hardened into twin ribbons of ivory; his horns, delicate but strong, glow a luminescent azure—so warm and inviting in its radiance… You grasp them tight, pulling him down with you, as you fall back into the bed, his lips pressed against yours. Of course you’re sure. He’d never hurt you, your Neuvillette would never ever hurt you.

“Devious…” he whispers between kisses, your tongue and teeth clashing in a waltz of their own, as his body drapes over yours. 

It’s not the first time you’ve seen him in this form, crossed somewhere between a human and a dragon, as beautiful as he is powerful. But it’s certainly the first time you’ve ever attempted to take him like this. He’s bigger in this form—you can already feel it as he grinds up between your legs. Longer. Thicker. Ribbed and embossed with the same pearlescent blue scales. Beautifully intimidating, just like the dragon sovereign himself. 

And as you continue to marvel, he lets his cock rest across your lower stomach, sizing you up. His fervor shines through in the way he’s already leaking a mess of sticky precum atop the smooth skin of your belly. A satisfied hum vibrates in his throat, clearly enthused. 

“This is how deep I’ll be,” he muses, almost apologetic of the incoming stretch you’d have to endure. “I’m beginning to wonder if I can even fit inside you.” 

Would it be wicked of him to admit, even to himself, that he enjoys the way you wriggle and cry just taking him in his human form? And yet… he’s forced to steady his breathing in a poor attempt at grounding himself—a task near impossible as you roll your hips up, ardently shaking your head no, outright ignoring the last out he offers.

“I will… make it fit.” They’re the last words you manage to wrangle out before being overtaken by the need to be full and filled. There’s no reason you should be so terribly, terribly hollow, when he’s right there. Neuvillette chokes back a laugh; your unyielding determination sends blood rushing to his erection, desperate to feel your velvet walls crowd around him again.

Finally relenting, he teases your entrance—running his cock up and down your slit, spreading your wetness, before slapping your clit with the tip—reminding you just how sensitive you still are. Gasping, you jerk away from the stimulation that once again taunts your nerves. Your hole, however, clenches around nothing, eager to please. 

But perhaps you’ve greatly underestimated just how big he is, because he barely makes it past the threshold of your folds, before the pleasure pain of the stretch begins to take over. That, and the overstimulation from your previous orgasms, already have you instinctively trying to snap your legs shut, but the firm hold on your thighs forbid you from doing so.

“Ha-ah N-neuvi—” A twisted sense of pride swells in his chest at the way you can hardly speak as your breath hitches and your lungs desperately search for air. “’s too big,” you sob.

He gives you a momentary reprieve to adjust, while his hand snakes down to run sloppy circles over your clit.

“More?” he whispers. 

It takes you a minute to respond, but he waits until finally your voice shakes with the violence of each hiccupped sob. “More.. please…”

A baritone hum sounds in his throat as he pulls forward, pressing wet kisses to your jaw in a quiet reassurance, effectively sliding a couple inches deeper, as he does so. “You can take it, my love. You’re so pretty like this.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, your hold eliciting a long, low groan from the dragon. Wherever you squirm, he follows, pressing more of his weight onto you, burying more of his cock into you. Each ridged inch that slides past your folds, seems to push the thoughts right out of your head, letting them dissipate into thin air until you’re left mindlessly moaning sweet praises to his name. 

Desperate to accommodate the unfamiliar enormity of his dragon cock, your walls ripple and tense around him, back arching into him, wanting to feel ever closer to the love of your life, determined to push your cunt to its limit for him. For your Neuvillette. 

Neuvillette. Neuvillette. Neuvillete. He’s all you can think about; him and his monster cock that seems to split you so deliciously open. It’s wave after wave of heat that sets your insides ablaze, soothed by the waters of arousal that have you begging for more, and restarting the cycle until he finally bottoms out, and you feel as if you’ve been electrified. You squeeze your eyes shut, but with the way his bulbous tip prods at your cervix, your mind goes blank, and the tears fall regardless. 

“There…” you pant, eyes glassy from the euphoria of feeling so incredibly full. “’s all in.”

“Yes,” he praises, softly. “Look at you, so nice and tight for me.” 

He wipes the salt from your cheeks, distracting you with a delicate kiss. His fangs are more prominent in this form; you can feel them as he grins against your lips, whilst whispering breathy nothings that tell of how good you are for him, how perfect, how he should be so lucky to have you like this, to have you as his. 

When your body eases enough, he pulls away, though the subtle shift of his cock still drags a pitched whine out from your lips. If he’s to be honest, he cannot tear his gaze from where the two of you are joined. It’s mesmerizing, hypnotic, to see how he splits you open, to feel how you mold into the shape of him, to imagine just how much your little cunt had to stretch so that he might rest comfortably inside.

Though, comfortable might be an overstatement due to the way your muscles tense and release so tightly around him, clamoring for more of his attention.  Eyes darkening with lust, Neuvillette smooths a hand over your abdomen, cerulean scales cold upon your skin.

“Can you feel me right…” He draws a clawed finger delicately across the skin of your belly, where his cock rests parallel underneath. “Here…”

He leaves more than just a faint line of red where his talon rakes. Yes, you want to say. You can feel the faint prickle of his claw on your skin, you can feel how the sharpness sends a shiver ringing through your body, and of course you can feel how he’s sheathed his dragon cock right into the very depths of your cunt, deeper than anyone’s ever been, deeper than he’s ever been… But the only sounds that spill through your lips are another stream of broken sobs, fever touched by how close you are to cumming just from being filled.

“Go on, darling. Cum for me.” He can feel you pulsing around him, clenching and unclenching in search of sweet release, yet he makes no additional moves to help you, leaving you to your own devices.

At this point, you can no longer tell if you’re making things better or worse, as every little movement knocks you into reaction—like dominoes toppling over until every piece of you has been unraveled. You writhe atop the soiled sheets for any sort of friction, but it’s too much when his tip knocks against the entrance to your womb. So you shift away, letting the ridges on his shaft graze against your syruped walls, inciting another wave of need. The scales continue to tip between ‘too much’ and ‘more’, until you finally work yourself into a delirious orgasm, on nothing but his cock inside you and your own incessant squirming. 

As you continue to ride out your high, Neuvillete finally begins to move, tearing himself away from your fluttering vice grip with a tremulous moan, because fuck you’re still so tight around him, still so warm and wet even after cumming for what? The fourth time tonight? Pressure lands heavy over your frame as he begins to rock into you, folding you in half as he does. 

He fucks you slow and even, stretching you out even more with every new stroke. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as this new position affords him the privilege to reach impossibly deeper. Despite his shallow thrusts, each drag of his cock still blooms an ache from all the hidden spots that he has no choice but to touch, though it’s quick to pass, as pleasure continues to coil in your belly. 

It’s so much all at once. You can’t take it, it’s too much. But the soul-shattering euphoria of being so utterly full, is unparalleled. You want more, you need more.   

“My pearl,” he whispers, though his voice is gruff, “my heart… I want to hear you.” 

And so you oblige him, wailing something broken and pitched and strangled, at the sudden snap of his hips, at the way he bumps into your cervix and seems to rattle your organs about. 

“F-fuck,” you cry, without thinking. Not that you can anyway, when the push-pull tide of his thrusts raises you to new heights of delirium. “H-ah god, fuck Neu–”

Another sharp, jutting thrust cuts you off as the dragon above you snarls, clearly agitated by your crass choice of words. “There are no gods to help you here.” Not in Fontaine where he rules, and certainly not here in his home.

There’s a feral wildness that shines in his bright vishap eyes, and his possessive streak flares—dragons have no natural inclination to share after all. It’s clear in the way his pace changes: faster, harsher, more ragged—a ferocity befitting of an elemental dragon ruler. But titles aside, he’s still your Neuvillette, and every move he makes is still laced with a tenderness, so as not to break you more than he already has. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he commands, dragging his tongue up the length of your throat.

“Yours. ‘m yours, Neuvillette.”

In and out, in and out. His long strokes guide the ridges of his cock back and forth through your tender muscles, leaving you to mumble mindless nonsense as you convulse and keen beneath him. Whatever pain you had felt earlier has long chipped away into undeniable pleasure as you near the precipice of yet another orgasm. Eyes glazed over in all consuming ecstasy, all you know to do is to chase your lust, and so your hips grind back, rolling together like waves in a storm. 

Amidst the flagrant wet sounds of your rabid fucking, you cum again, lashes fluttering as your eyes roll, muscles tight as they tremble from such rapture—so lovely, so beautiful. Your siren call of pretty cries spill from your lips, intermingled with weak babbles of his name. You’re so breathtaking like this in your post-climax haze: fucked out and cloudy-eyed, panting into the cool air as his slowed thrusts still rack up an aftershock of shudders.

Neuvillette bows his head, once again trailing wet kisses across your collarbones, before pausing to hover his lips right over the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his warm breath a familiar spot of comfort in this maddening pleasure. Perhaps it’s some sort of sixth sense unique to only the most attuned of lovers, ones whose souls seem to harmonize in perfect resonance, but there’s hesitance in the way he suckles at the spot, fangs ghosting over your tender skin.

“S’okay… you can do it.” Your soft, dreamy sighs of approval are accompanied by the languid tilt of your neck, jeopardizing more of your delicate skin to the dangers of his teeth. “You can mark me… w’nna be your mate…”

Choking back a moan, Neuvillette pistons thrice more into your cunt—pulling out until just his tip remains, and then plunging back into your gooey insides, sending you into another round of dizzying convulsions. His own orgasm follows, seeing stars as he places an amorous bite to the crook of your neck using only the flat of his teeth. 

With how deep he’s buried, ribbons of his cum shoot right into your womb, spilling out into every cavity, and painting your interior white. Warmth blossoms from the inside out. Your heart is full, mumbling happy nothings of ‘mates’ in between sniffles, while a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock, thick liquid oozing from where he ends and you begin. His own chest rises and falls in jagged patterns, but his only want is to seek your lips, to drink in your mewls, and exchange sweet kisses, so that your soul and his, may meld together as they dance in the shape of your breaths intertwined.

He strokes your hair, planting easy kisses all around as he unplugs himself, letting loose the flood of cum that seeps out of your hole, but you whine at the loss, wanting nothing more than to be ever close to your newly consummated mate. Neuvillette only nuzzles into your neck, deep purrs of content reverberating from his chest as he lazily rubs his scent all over you. Meanwhile, a quick swish of his sapphire tail up the sticky underside of your thigh, teases another pulse from your cunt, and by reflex, you push out another dollop of white. 

A small tap tap to his shoulder distracts him from his scenting, and he looks up with a tilt to his head and a small furrow to his brow, his normally sharp eyes full of earnest concern, relaxing only once he finishes reading through the bleary, dulcet tones of adoration that glow in your half-lidded eyes. You poorly suppress your little giggles—although he often disagrees, your lover really can be quite adorable. 

Fontaine’s Iudex Neuvillette is elegant, poised, and meticulously polished… but here in the quiet night hours, in the privacy of your hearth, your Neuvillette is unruly-haired and damp-skinned from satiating the beastly desires of his still tender heart. You reach out a tired arm, first brushing back the pieces of hair that cling to his skin, then wrapping your palm around to cup his face. 

“Was I a good mate?” Your hand slips down from his cheek to play with the tips of his silvery hair. “W’nna be the best for you.”

“You already are the best for me.” His hand, no longer clawed nor scaled, brings yours back up for a kiss to your knuckles. “The only one for me.” 

He rolls off of you, sweeping you into his embrace, as he carries you off to the bathroom. Your head rests heavily against his chest, but your happy hums and quiet murmurs of ‘good,’ tell him that you have not drifted off into slumber just yet.  

“You truly are a wonder,” he breathes, dipping his head to place a soft kiss to your forehead. “And it would be my honor to have you as my mate… but not tonight.”

His instincts had urged him to do it, to permanently claim you as his, and mark you as a dragon would, but his heart vehemently disagrees. The most sacred bond known to his kind is an ultimatum in your relationship, and it is one he refuses to be the sole architect of, so perhaps the two of you can revisit this conversation again once you’re more clear-headed; his answer would remain the same anyways.

a/n2: writing this took years off my life, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless ! as always, thank u sm for reading, and reblogs + feedback are very much appreciated ♡

a/n3: here is a little visual of how i imagine the dress at the beginning to look like, but of course you can always imagine it however you like since i’ve purposely left it rather vague : )

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

tell me when you’re ready.

₊˚⊹ featuring: kaji ren x gn! reader

₊˚⊹ summary: kaji doesn’t like you to see him like this — his animalistic urges taking over him as he fights. but, when the time comes that you catch sight of him in that state, kaji thinks you’re better off without him.

₊˚⊹ word count: 0.9k

₊˚⊹ warnings: mentions of blood and violence! (nothing too explicit though), grammar errors (not proofread!)

₊˚⊹ author’s note: live laugh love kaji ren <333 this is my contribution to the windbreaker fandom 😝 i’m still trying to practice writing him so feedbacks r welcome !

this was a side of kaji that you had mostly heard about in stories of his past, passed from one bofurin member to another. his gray pupils dilated, ends of his platinum blonde hair tainted with crimson red from trickling blood on his forehead cuts, his furin high school jacket and headphones carefully discarded across the warehouse, and a multitude of unconscious bodies and pools of blood surrounding your boyfriend, as he breathed heavily from the fight.

kaji had long suppressed these animalistic urges to take over him, not wanting you to see him like this. he does everything within his capabilities, but the both of you stand motionless at your positions, staring at the unfolding scene.

kusumi and enomoto's rapid footsteps echoed towards you, snapping your head in their direction. they were breathless due to fighting and probably running, as they were trying to shield you from seeing kaji in this state.

you were afraid. you had never seen your boyfriend fight like this before, as you mostly detested violence and tried to avoid it as much as possible. but, you felt kaji's gray eyes bore into yours. his hands dropped to his sides, almost dreadfully, and opened his mouth to speak, "so, what do you think?"

you tilted your head in confusion, "huh?"

kaji continuously looked at you, eyes hovering over your entire body to check if you had accumulated some scratches or such, "you're afraid, aren't you?"

you didn’t answer him, because he was right. you avoided his gaze and looked down towards the floor, tainted with rough marks and splatters of blood. he scoffed at your silence, perceiving it as an answer to his question, "i expected as much. if you can't handle this, maybe we should stop this now. i don't want you to see me like this."

your eyes widened at his statement.

you hesitantly walked towards him, feeling your shoes step into blood, staining them. once you stood in front of kaji, you placed your hand on his tensed shoulder, which relaxed under your touch. you pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping his bloodied face. "i know that we both are aware that i have always hated violence like this,” you began, dabbing at some of the blood.

"then, you don't hafta do this," he tried to pry your hand away from his blood. kaji thought he’s dirty, too disgusting for someone like you to touch. but, you still continued wiping his battered face despite his resistance.

"but, i want you to know that i would never break up over something like this. there are secrets that you have yet to tell me, and perhaps this experience was one of those secrets. which is why, i would patiently wait for you to open up to me, kaji." you said, as you felt his gaze onto your eyes. he, then, felt guilty as he could see them turning red, alongside your wavering voice.

"so, please..." the moment you tried to speak, it came out as a desperate whisper. your tears started to cascade downwards your cheeks. "do not ask me to leave you." you pulled your hand away from his face, finishing up on cleaning him.

your tear-stained eyes locked with his widened gray ones. this was the feeling he hated the most — seeing you cry, seeing that he's nothing but a failure of a boyfriend once again. he wanted to hold your hands, interlace them with his calloused ones, but, he felt as if he would only sully your clean hands if he became selfish with his desires.

as kaji hesitated, he felt your hands move to cup his face. you closed the distance between your faces, and gently pecked him in the lips. the corners of your mouth turned upward as you gazed at your boyfriend's softened features. "you know that i love you, 'kay?" you said, smoothing out random strands of his bangs.

kaji, then, gave into his desires and pulled you into a tight hug. you squeaked at the suddenness of his tight arms wrapped around you. he hummed a quiet ‘sorry’ as he rested his head on your shoulder and delighted himself with your scent. you smiled, as you equally wrapped your hands around his neck and carefully tugged and played with his hair.

"ahem!" while enomoto did not want to interrupt the both of you, patrol hours were coming to an end. kusumi, on the other hand, seemed to grin as he kept taking photos of the scene unfolding in front of him — a rare moment of their usually stoic grade captain being soft.

you could hear kaji rumble in annoyance, as he clicked his tongue. you pressed your lips on the edge of his earlobe, "my apartment?" you offered, as you intended to properly clean his cuts.

he simply hummed in agreement to your offer, reluctantly breaking the hug. kaji preferred to spend his time with you, basking in your scent at your apartment. and like a protective and obedient kitten, he laced his hand with yours and took his headphones and jacket, following your footsteps.

you could hear kusumi and enomoto snickering and laughing, respectively, at their captain's tender gestures — making kaji growl at them. you chuckled at your boyfriend as you watch him bid farewell to his vice-captains.

"i didn’t get to say it earlier, but i love ya too. and, uh… thank you for loving me." he mumbled, feeling himself cringe with his words, since expressing himself was one of the things he struggled with. you giggled at him and squeezed his hand, as his face slightly flushed in a light shade of red.

oh, how much you love him.