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Chapter Text

Requests I'm Happy To Take:

• Any Character x Reader, as long as both parties are 18+, and the character is from Part 1 - Part 6. (it won't be accurate otherwise).
• Canon Universe or Alternate Universes (No Stand, With Stand, etc)
• Almost anything SFW (romance, friendships, dating, etc)
• Most kinks & fantasies. (bdsm, threesomes, praise, degradation, etc)
• Dubious consent.

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• Anything with bodily fluids that is not spit or cum.
• Genuine Non-Con. (inclusive of necro, pedo, bestiality, etc)
• Underaged.

You can comment below and I'll let you know if I've accepted your request.

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Chapter Text

You hum absentmindedly while folding clean towels, the room filled with the aromatic scents of lavender and sage from your air diffuser. In your clinic, you pride yourself on creating a peaceful environment for your clients. With the towels now in a neat pile, you start to set up the almond oil by the bench and massage table.

One of your regulars has what feels like never-ending tension through his muscles, no matter how many times you've brought him in for a deep tissue massage. You clear out the afternoon whenever he books, despite his arguments.

You click your tongue, lost in thought as you deliberate. You always extend his appointments since he requires so much work . You usually keep your nose out of your client's business, but maybe it would be worth seeing what makes him so rigid?

Your thoughts are interrupted as your landline starts to ring. You glance at the intercom’s display - it’s the receptionist.

“Hi, you have Jotaro Kujo waiting for you,” she says in a sing-song manner.

“Thanks, lovely. Send him down. Oh, I think you’re good to leave early tonight; Jotaro’s the last appointment,” you reply, warmly smiling as you hear her excitement through the phone.

“REALLY? Oh, you’re the best! Thank you!” The audio clicks, and you chuckle as you put the phone down. You lay a sheet loosely on the table before you hear three loud knocks. “Come on in, Jotaro,” you call out, hoping your voice carries through the door.

The doorknob turns, and you see Jotaro walk through, having to duck his head slightly as he passes the doorway. His expression is aloof, as usual when he visits. “Good grief,” he mutters. “Your receptionist is damn annoying. Screaming for what?” he curses, closing the door behind him with a distinct thud.

“Oh, she was just excited to go home early. She has a date tonight, you know, young people stuff,” you laugh, your attempt to keep the energy lighthearted not feeling so successful.

“You know the drill. I’ll step out while you get ready. Do you want cold water while I’m out?” you offer, a faint smile on your face as you attempt to read him.

“Yes, thanks,” he grumbles, the tension in his traps already evident. You sigh lightly and excuse yourself as he strips.

You’d love nothing more than watching the Jotaro Kujo strip, but you’re a professional. You shake your head, as if to loosen those thoughts from your mind. You head into the staff kitchen, where small bottles of water line the shelving. You pick one out and start heading back to your room.

You tap your knuckle lightly on the door, and you hear the muttered “come in” through the wood. You open up, placing the cold bottle of water on the nearby bench. Jotaro has neatly folded his clothes on an adjacent chair and laid himself face down on the massage table. With nothing but a towel covering his lower half, you get to work.

You rub your hands together, the friction warming your skin before you pool a small amount of oil into your palms. Your hands start on his shoulders, his muscles locked tight as you begin by lightly spreading the liquid into his skin. His breathing is steady and deep as you use broad strokes across his traps. After a few minutes of working through the initial tension, you start the real work. Your knuckles drag down the grain of his muscles, pulling through knots and tight spots as you travel down from his shoulders to the small of his back.

As you approach his lower back, you hear a stifled grunt. “Tense here?” you ask, lightly dragging your thumb across the area. He reacts again, another muttered grumble vibrating through the massage table. You click your tongue as your hands move down to his glute. “Here, too?” you ask as you knead into his flesh.

“Yes,” he groans quietly.

“Have you been doing those stretches we spoke about last time?” you ask while working down from his glute to his hamstring to see how far the pain travels. There's a moment of silence before he responds.

“No,” he mutters.

You laugh lightly and playfully grab his calf, moving his leg slightly. “You’ve gotta do them, Jotaro. It’s going to help you so much more if you take care of yourself,” you say with a gentle but firm tone.

He lets out a deep sigh, the sound a mixture of resignation and acknowledgement. You continue your work, fingers skillfully finding and slowly easing the tension that has built up in his muscles. 

After some time, you've done what you can with his back and legs. You start to instruct him on stretches, guiding him to move into your hand or away from his body. You can see the range of motion has improved since you first started.

“Turn around, Jotaro. Time to work on the other side.”

He reaches a hand behind him to grab the towel that has been resting over his lower back, then rotates himself around and places it over his groin. He lets out another sigh before staring up at the ceiling.

You move around the table and stand behind where his head is resting, slipping your fingers from his scalp down his neck in long, deliberate strokes. As you tower over him, you notice his posture has relaxed slightly, more than you had realized. Your hands now move from his neck to his chest as you lean over him.

Your fingers trace the lines of his pectoral muscles, applying gentle but firm pressure to release any tension there. Jotaro's eyes remain fixed on the ceiling, his expression more serene than before. You focus on his chest, using smooth, rhythmic motions to ease the stress away.

"How's the pressure?" you ask softly, ensuring he remains comfortable.

"Good," he replies, his voice a low rumble. His eyes flick to yours, and you see something you haven’t seen in him before. Relief. Genuine relief.

You smile, and he looks away, a subtle warmth creeping across his cheeks. “You’re doing so well this session, Jotaro. I can feel a lot of improvement, even if you haven’t been following my guidance all the time,” you say, jokingly.

He gives a small huff that might be a laugh, but his expression softens slightly. Moving from the end of the table, you take your place back where you started, working on his sides and down his abs.

Your hands glide over his ribcage, applying gentle pressure to the intercostal muscles. You can feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing beneath your fingertips. “You’re really loosening up,” you comment as you move lower, your touch firm but soothing.

Jotaro closes his eyes, the tension in his face easing as you work your way down his torso. His abs, though defined, also carry knots and tightness, which you address with deliberate, kneading motions. You can sense him relaxing more deeply with each stroke, the rigidity melting away.

“You’ve got a powerful body, Jotaro. It’s clear you want to take care of it,” you say, leaning in as your hands move over his abdomen in firm circles. He doesn't reply, but you can feel a subtle tension that's different from the physical stress you've been working on.

You move down to his thighs now, shifting the towel slightly out of the way. His eyes flutter open, meeting yours for a moment before he looks away, a faint flush spreading across his cheeks. There's an intimacy here that’s never been present before. You want to show Jotaro that he can enjoy this, enjoy you.

“Just relax, Jotaro,” you whisper, your voice soothing as your hands work the tension from his thighs. Your touch is firm but gentle, each movement designed to provide comfort and relief. His fists close over the sides of the table, the squeak of leather echoing underneath his grip.

You look up at him and see his bulge becoming more distinct under the towel. You raise your eyebrow as you look over his form, trying to read the situation. “You’re doing so well,” you murmur as your hand gently travels up his thigh and over his cock, half-hard beneath the towel.

He takes a sharp inhale, his eyes fixated on you. Your fingers trace a path over his length through the towel, the heat from his body radiating through the fabric as he responds to your touch. Your hands travel under the towel, taking a firm grip on his cock as you stroke his length. He lets out a soft moan, anticipation thick in the air.

“You like that, don’t you?” you whisper, your voice tender with intimacy.

“Yes,” he breathes, nodding slightly as he keeps his eyes on you.

“You deserve to feel good, don’t you?” you ask, your grip tightening as you feel him harden fully under your touch.

His breath hitches, unable to form a response as you start picking up the pace of your strokes. Your hand glides easily, lubricated by the oils used for his massage. He starts to arch his hips into your touch, clearly seeking more. The towel haphazardly falls to the ground, his cock now in view.

Your strokes become more deliberate, each movement designed to heighten his pleasure. “You’ve been so strong, Jotaro,” you murmur, your voice a soothing balm. “You deserve every bit of this.”

His eyes close momentarily, his breathing ragged as he loses himself in the sensation. “Please,” he whispers, his voice trembling with need.

You withdraw your hand, but only momentarily, as you open up his legs, making room for you to kneel between them. You lick your lips, anticipation building.

“What are you…?” he breathlessly asks, but his question trails off as you take his length into your mouth. His hips lift off the table slightly, yearning to reach deeper into your throat, but you’re in control.

Your tongue swirls around the tip, savouring the taste of him as you take him in deeper, inch by inch. You establish a steady rhythm, your mouth moving with deliberate, controlled motions. His moans grow louder, each one a testament to the pleasure you're giving him.

You glance up, your eyes meeting his intense gaze. You hollow your cheeks, creating a tighter seal around him. He groans, hands gripping the sides of the table tighter than ever. As you take him deeper, his hips try to thrust upward. You hold him steady, maintaining your control of the pace.

You can feel his cock twitch in your mouth.

“You’re so good at this,” he gasps, his voice thick with pleasure. You hum in response, your vibrations adding to his pleasure. You increase your pace as you feel his climax approaching. His moans become desperate before you take his whole length. He releases, hot cum hitting the back of your throat.

You swallow every drop, milking him until he’s completely spent. You gently release his cock from your mouth, licking your lips to savour the flavour once more as you look up at him. Jotaro collapses back onto the table, his chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath.

You smile softly as you help him lay back down properly on the massage table. You take one of your spare towels and start to wipe down the sweat from his body, ensuring he remains comfortable and clean. Your touch is gentle and caring, providing a sense of calm and reassurance.

You finish cleaning him up and help him sit up slowly, making sure he feels steady. “Remember to take care of yourself between sessions,” you remind him gently. “You’re doing great.” Through the exhaustion, he gives you a small, genuine smile. You appreciate the moment, a rare expression of vulnerability on his part.

“I will,” he promises, his voice sincere.

You nod quietly before leaving him to get dressed. As you step out, you smile to yourself, satisfied that you can finally make a dent in that seemingly unyielding tension.

Moments later, you hear him leave your room, the cold water bottle in hand as he approaches the reception area. You notice that evening has set in completely, casting a gentle twilight over the clinic.

“So, a fortnight from now?” he asks, his tone almost needy, a subtle hint of desperation for a yes.

You smile warmly at him, feeling the connection that has deepened between you. “Yes, Jotaro. A fortnight from now,” you confirm softly.

His shoulders relax visibly, and he nods, the small smile on his lips reflecting his gratitude and contentment. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice filled with relief and anticipation.

As he turns to leave, you watch him go, the satisfaction of the shared moment lingering in the air.

Chapter Text

You struggle to maintain your body temperature as you navigate the busy streets of Luxor, searching for the rest of the Crusaders before you run into more trouble. You curse yourself for becoming too distracted.

The faces that pass you are indistinguishable from each other. You take a deep breath and slip away into an alleyway, your attempt at settling your anxiety. The narrow passageway provides a brief respite from the overwhelming crowd and relentless sun. Leaning against the cool stone wall, you try to steady your racing thoughts.

The Crusaders had warned you about getting separated, especially in a place as chaotic as Luxor. Each moment you spend alone increases the risk of encountering another one of Dio’s minions. You can’t afford another fight, not in your current state.

You scan the alleyway, hoping for a familiar face or a sign of where to go next. The city’s labyrinthine streets make it easy to get lost, and the constant flow of people doesn’t help. You wonder if the others are searching for you with the same sense of urgency.

A sudden noise at the entrance of the alley catches your attention. Your heart skips a beat as you peer around the corner, doing your best to steel yourself as you prepare for what comes next.

Your eyes settle on a beautiful, tall woman with sun-kissed skin. Her eyes are intense as they stare at you, almost as if she can see straight through to your soul. You swallow a lump in your throat as she walks towards you, her hips swaying exaggeratedly.

Your name rolls off her tongue, and it frightens you as much as it excites you. She smirks, her effect on you evidently impactful. “Your friends aren’t to be found this way, just you and little old me.”

“My name is Mariah,” she continues, her voice smooth and alluring. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

You turn to her completely now, putting yourself in a defensive pose. You can’t deny that you’re at a disadvantage; your Stand is only as effective as the team you’re in, and you have no idea what Mariah can do. As she continues to approach, you find yourself shuffling backwards until you inevitably reach the end of the alleyway.

Mariah stops a few feet away, her smirk never fading. "Nervous? You should be. You see, I've been given a special task to deal with you," she says, her eyes gleaming with a predatory glint. “But my orders weren’t as cut-dry as you’d think. I can play however I choose as long as I get the job done.” She trails off, her hand gliding up your arm.

Your skin prickles in goosebumps under her touch, the warmth from her fingertips spreading throughout you. Her face is inches away from yours, her hot breath intermingling with your own.

“You look like you can take an order or two,” she grins, withdrawing her hand from you. “Can’t you~?” she asks, as if already knowing the answer.

“Y-yes,” you stutter in reply. You curse yourself again; why was it so easy to say yes?

Mariah's grin widens, and she steps even closer, her presence dominating the narrow space. “Good,” she purrs. “Now, let’s see how well you follow instructions. First, sit.”

Hesitating only for a moment, you comply, your heart pounding in your chest. You settle down onto the dirt of the alleyway, looking up expectantly. Mariah’s eyes light up with satisfaction as she watches you obey so easily. “Very good,” she coos. “You might just survive this after all!”

Her hand brushes against the top of your head. You feel a strange, magnetic pull that you can’t quite place. It’s a peculiar sensation, as if something within you is being drawn out, a force beyond your control.

“Good,” she repeats, a wicked smile on her lips. “You’re not much of a talker, which I like. Means you can put your mouth to good use in other ways.”

Mariah’s fingers rub against the hem of her miniskirt, before rolling it up to reveal her bare pussy underneath her stockings.

You swallow, hard. You can’t take your eyes off her beautiful form. Her rounded hips and plush thighs drive you wild.

“Now, let's see if you’re as good with your mouth as you are at following orders,” Mariah purrs, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

You feel that mixture of fear and desire build up inside you again as you lean forward. Your senses are overwhelmed by her presence, your hands fidgeting to pull down the stockings that are so tight against her skin. Her hand has found its way back to your head, as she grabs onto a handful of your hair.

The magnetic pull intensifies inside you, drawing you closer. You are compelled to obey her every order, and you’re happy to do so. You take a firm grasp of her hips before nuzzling your face between her thighs. At impact, you hear Mariah let out a content sigh.

The taste of her sweat on her skin is intoxicating, as you draw slow, flat strokes with your tongue along her clit. Her hips twitch slightly at your touch, and her grip on your hair tightens, guiding you with subtle movements.

As her wetness pools from arousal, you lap it up. She lets out breathy moans as you continue to follow her instructions. The sound of her pleasure encourages you, pushing you to be even more attentive and thorough. Each stroke of your tongue brings a new wave of sensation, and Mariah's body responds eagerly to your touch.

“That’s right,” she commands. “Keep going.”

Her hips begin to grind in rhythm with your strokes, and you feel the intensity of the moment grow within you. You can feel her body tense with anticipation with every passing minute. Her breathing has become quick and her moans louder.

Her grip on your hair is almost painful, but you pay it no mind. You feel her thighs begin to clench, and you know she’s close. You increase the pressure, moving your tongue with the urgency you feel within you to push her over the edge. Your fingers dig deeply into her flesh to hold her in place.

With a shuddering gasp, Mariah reaches her peak. Her body trembles as she pulls you tightly against her pussy, riding out her orgasm. Your tongue doesn’t stop as you savour the taste and feeling of her pleasure.

As her climax subsides, her grip on your hair loosens, and she takes a step back, her breathing still heavy. She looks down at you, her satisfaction evident in her flushed features. “You’ve pleased me greatly,” she sighs.

You look up at her beautiful expression, feeling a sense of accomplishment you have never felt before. Mariah’s gaze shifts from your face downward, her eyes landing on the obvious bulge in your pants. A sly smile spreads across her lips. "Now to take care of this," she says, prodding one of her feet at your erection.

You let out a small gasp as her touch sends shivers throughout your body. She presses her foot firmly on you, the pressure both teasing and tantalising. As she rubs her foot against your length, the friction causes the sensation to intensify. Your hands fall behind you to steady yourself. Every movement she makes is sending waves of pleasure throughout you.

"Good," she murmurs, her voice a mix of seduction and command. "Now, stand."

She suddenly withdraws her foot from you, and you stand to attention. "Take them off," she commands, pointing at your pants.

You fumble to get them undone, your fingers trembling with anticipation and need. Finally, you manage to remove them, leaving you exposed before her. Mariah’s eyes travel over your body with a look of appreciation and control.

"That’s better," she says, her voice soft but commanding. "Now, come here."

You step closer to her, and Mariah’s hands move to your hips, guiding you into position between her thighs, still wet from your saliva. She presses the smooth skin against your erection, trapping you in a vice of soft, warm flesh. You can feel the heat from her wet pussy emanating, the sensations overwhelming.

“Show me how much you want your release, boy,” she whispers, her breath hot against your ear. You can barely contain yourself as you grab her hips and start thrusting between her thighs, desperate to satiate your aching desire.

Mariah’s body responds to your movements, her hips swaying rhythmically as you move. She lets out a series of moans, her own pleasure building from the rubbing of your cock against her cunt. The friction between you both is intoxicating, driving you to thrust harder and faster.

Mariah’s hands grip your shoulders to steady herself as the intensity of the sensations becomes almost too much to bear. Your body begins to tense, every one of your nerves alight. Her thighs tighten around you, the friction is godly.

“Keep going,” she commands, her voice a mix of pleasure and authority. “Don’t stop.”

You comply, pushing yourself to the limit, your thrusts becoming more frantic and desperate. The heat and wetness from her pussy, combined with the soft, yielding pressure of her thighs, create a sensation that drives you wild.

Mariah’s sweet moans grow louder as her breathing hitches in her throat. Her grip on your shoulders tightens, her nails digging into your skin as she braces herself. You feel her thighs quiver around you, her climax approaching.

You paw and grip against her hips as you finally reach your own climax. Your body convulses with pleasure as you shoot hot strings of cum between her thighs. The sensation of your release combined with the friction against her sensitive skin drives her over the edge.

With a sharp inhale, Mariah reaches her second orgasm, her body trembling and her thighs squeezing around you. Her moans turn into cries of pleasure, echoing in the narrow alleyway as she rides out the waves of her climax.

As the intensity of the moment subsides, you both stand there, breathless and spent. Mariah’s grip on your shoulders loosens, and she takes a step back, her eyes still half-lidded with pleasure. She looks down at you, a wry smile forming on her lips.

“Well, shit,” she says between her heavy panting. “How am I supposed to kill you now?”

Chapter Text

You feel the tension in your shoulders as you watch your husband, ever the socialite, engage in animated conversation with his audience across the room. Taking a sip of your champagne, you lean back against the bar, observing the scene.

Dio always commanded attention no matter where he went, especially at these work functions he insisted you accompany him to. You fiddle with your wedding ring absentmindedly, your thoughts swirling as they often did in such moments.

His Duchenne smile, a testament to his genuine charm, revealed the faintest evidence of his age, the crinkle of his crow's feet barely visible. His eyes flicked over to you briefly before his grin widened, his attempt at keeping a connection with you. You scoff under your breath, turning your head away and taking another sip of champagne, the bubbles doing little to ease the growing discontent within you.

After some time, Dio excuses himself from the crowd and starts approaching you. Although your exterior shows a cool expression, your heart beats heavily in your chest. No matter how many years it’s been, he has this effect on you.

“My darling,” he purrs, his hand grasping yours, warmth spreading from his fingers onto your skin. “You look so lonely over here. Are these functions really such a chore for you?”

You force a smile, superficial at best. “Oh, love, I’m just giving you the space to do what you do best.”

His tongue clicks with disapproval as his grip on your hand tightens slightly. “You almost sound jealous, my love,” he murmurs, bringing his face closer to yours, his hot breath mingling with yours.

Jealous. You hated it when he said it, and he knew that. This was his way of getting you worked up.

“What’s there to be jealous of?” you retort, your voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with defiance.

"That's what I'm wondering," Dio starts, a sly grin on his face. His eyes lock onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to look away.

You feel a surge of frustration bubbling up inside you. "You know I don't enjoy these events," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’m here for you, nothing else."

His grin widens, as if he's enjoying your discomfort. "And I appreciate that, truly," he says smoothly, his hand moving up to gently caress your cheek. "But you don’t have to be so distant, darling. These people are harmless."

You shake your head slightly, feeling the weight of his words. "It’s not about them, Dio," you confess, your voice softer now. "It's about us. Sometimes, I feel like I'm just a prop in your world."

His expression softens for a moment, a flicker of something genuine in his eyes. "You are my world," he whispers, his hand slipping around to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. "Don’t ever doubt that."

He closes the distance between you, kissing your lips tenderly. Under his touch, you melt away, like putty in his hands. He pulls away after a few moments, before laying a kiss on your forehead. “Try to behave, won’t you darling? We’ll be gone soon.” Dio begins to take his body away from yours, walking into the crowd again.

You take the last sip of your champagne, letting the cool liquid travel down your hot throat. Your mind was racing, but this function was not the right place to discuss it. 

The evening comes to a close, with you and Dio leaving the function among a few remaining stragglers. You hear colleagues and new acquaintances egging him on to continue the evening at another bar, eager to discuss statistics or upcoming conferences.

“Ah, my friends, another time, perhaps. I have my lovely wife to consider,” he says, casting a warm smile in your direction. Despite the charming, polite refusal, you can sense a hesitation in his voice.

As you walk out into the cool air towards your parked car, you feel his arm snake its way around yours, pulling you closer. The night is quiet, the sounds of the city distant and muted. 

"Are you alright?" you ask softly, glancing up at him. The glow of the streetlights casts gentle shadows on his face, highlighting a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Dio nods, squeezing your arm reassuringly. "Just tired, my love. These events can be draining."

You nod in understanding, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment. "I know they are. And I appreciate you leaving with me."

He chuckles softly, a hint of teasing in his tone. "Oh, don’t flatter yourself too much. I was just bored of their dull conversations." He looks down at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "But seeing your sour expression was the real highlight."

You roll your eyes, a mix of exasperation and affection in your voice. "You always know how to push my buttons, don’t you?"

He grins, unabashed. "It’s one of my many talents."

As you reach the car, he opens the door for you without breaking his mischievous grin. You roll your eyes and chuckle, sliding into the passenger seat. Dio walks around to the driver’s side and gently settles his weight into the seat. The ride home is comfortably silent, with his hand gripping your thigh firmly as he drives.

Once you arrive home, you follow a familiar routine. You take off your shoes and put them to the side, then remove the claw clip from your hair, letting the weight fall down over your shoulders. Heading straight into the bathroom, you start removing your jewellery and makeup.

As you stand in front of the mirror, wiping away the burden of the evening, Dio leans casually in the doorframe, watching your every move eagerly. His eyes follow you intensely, even as he relentlessly teases you.

“My beautiful wife,” he starts, his voice smooth and low, “my favourite part of the evening is seeing you dress down, your true beauty shining through.”

You glance at him through the mirror, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” you tease, though the compliment warms you.

Dio steps into the bathroom, closing the distance between you. “Who said I’m trying to get anywhere?” he murmurs, his hands gently resting on your shoulders, his thumbs tracing small circles on your skin. “I’m just appreciating what’s mine.”

He clicks his tongue again, and you brace yourself for whatever comes out of his mouth next. “You know, one of the ladies from the Speedwagon Foundation was so surprised to hear your age—made me feel like a cradle snatcher,” he says, eyes locking with yours in the reflection.

“29 isn’t so bad, you know. Only 11 years, love .” The last word comes out of your mouth like venom. Your age gap never mattered to you; what mattered was when people speculated about your relationship and felt much too comfortable discussing it with your incredibly handsome husband.

Dio's smirk widens, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Ah, but it’s precisely that youthful spark of yours that keeps me on my toes,” he says, his hands sliding down your arms, leaving a trail of warmth followed by goosebumps.

You turn to face him as you finish cleaning up your face. Your brows are furrowed, and you let his teasing get to you too much this evening. “She probably thought she could take care of you better than me, as I’m so naive!” you snap, without raising your voice.

Dio raises an eyebrow, his smirk faltering for a moment. “Is that what’s really bothering you?” he asks, his tone serious. “Do you honestly think I would let anyone else come between us?”

You sigh, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. “It’s not about what I think you’d do. It’s about what they think, and what they say. It’s infuriating.”

“Oh, so you are jealous?” Dio's smirk returns, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You glare at him, trying to hold onto your annoyance. “It’s not jealousy,” you insist, though you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. “It’s just...frustrating.”

“I loved you first, you know,” you mutter under your breath, hoping he wouldn’t pay attention, but he did.

Dio’s smirk softens into a genuine smile, giving you some reprieve from the tension you harbour. “Oh, I remember. Do you?” he says, his voice tender.

Your mind drifts back to that day, your memories of it as vivid as ever. You had been friends for a while, connected in a way that felt almost fated. Every moment you spent with him was bliss, and every moment apart felt like hell.

You had never been so forthcoming with a romantic interest before, but something in your soul knew you had to have Dio to yourself. You had invited him to Phantom, a mutually favoured café in your area.

His warm smile, your fluttering heart. Every second of this moment is etched into your mind. The words became real as you bared everything to Dio.

“Dio, we’ve known each other for some time now and… I realize I don’t see you as a friend. My feelings run so much deeper than that… I… I love you.”

The moment of silence between you had felt like an eternity. You expected rejection at best. When you finally gained the courage to look him in the eyes, you saw nothing of the sort.

“I’ve felt the same way for a long time,” he admitted, his voice lined with relief. “I wasn’t sure how exactly to bring it up, but I’m glad it was you.”

His hand reached across the table to hold yours, his touch so comforting and warm. In that instant, all your fears melted away, replaced by a profound sense of joy and connection.

Dio’s light chuckle breaks the memory, bringing you back into the present. “Maybe you said you loved me first, but I believe I beat you to the feeling.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh really? And what makes you so sure?”

He grins, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and affection. “Because I knew from the moment we met that you were special. There was just something about you that drew me in, something I couldn’t ignore.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. “You never told me that.”

"I never had to," he mutters, as you realize he's closed the gap between you. His lips find yours in a gentle, loving kiss.

The warmth of his kiss melts away any lingering doubts, grounding you in the moment. You respond, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him closer.

He licks along your bottom lip, and you part your mouth to allow his tongue inside. Your hot breath intermingles with his as he deepens the kiss, holding the back of your head. His tongue lazily plays with yours as his other arm finds your waist and pulls you closer to him.

Your bodies press together, the intensity of the moment enveloping you both. His hands explore your back, tracing gentle patterns that send shivers down your spine. He breaks the kiss for a moment, letting out a dreamy sigh.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers, his voice thick with love for you. You smile, tracing your fingertips along the back of his neck. “You’re my everything,” you reply before leaning in for another kiss.

You’re surprised as he grabs your ass, picking you up and placing you onto the bathroom bench. The surface is cold under you, but you pay it little attention. Your legs hook around his hips, pulling him closer still as your kiss deepens.

His hands roam over your body, one settling on your hip while the other finds your breast. He starts to knead the flesh gently in his palm, squeezing your nipple between his fingers. A moan creeps from your throat as the sensation starts winding you up. Your legs tighten their grip around him, and you can feel his hardened length through his pants.

Dio’s kisses become more erratic, passionate. His mouth moves from your lips to your neck, nipping and sucking on the sensitive flesh. Another moan slips from your mouth as he begins to bite and mark your skin. His hand on your breast squeezes harder, pinching your nipple to elicit another squeak from you.

Your fingers travel to his chest, fumbling to undo the buttons on his shirt. Dio pulls away from your throat, satisfied with the markings he’s left on you. He helps you with the last of the buttons before letting the shirt drop to the floor. Your hands relish the warmth from his chest as you trace the contours of his muscles.

His hands begin to explore the curves of your body, before one hand slips underneath your dress to find the heat building between your legs. His fingers tease you through the fabric of your panties, making you gasp as you arch your back into his touch.

“Dio,” you whisper, your voice alight with desire. His eyes are darkened by passion as he frees his hard cock from his pants. He lifts you slightly, enough for you to feel his length along your pussy.

“Please, love,” you beg him, pushing yourself into his warmth.

He positions himself, teasing you for a moment longer, his tip brushing against your entrance through the thin fabric. After watching you squirm for long enough, he slips your panties to the side, exposing your wetness to him.

Dio’s lustful gaze locks onto yours, mirroring the intensity of the moment. He presses the tip of his cock against your needy entrance, teasing you as he slowly, deliberately, pushes his length inside. His girth fills you completely, perfectly. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as he begins to thrust inside you.

Your legs tighten around his hips, pulling him deeper with each thrust. The sensation of his cock kissing your womb is overwhelming, a mixture of pain and pleasure. You gasp, your breaths coming in ragged moans as he sets a steady rhythm.

You moan his name like a prayer as he continues to pound into your pussy. He grunts in response, his hands gripping your hips firmly, almost bruising your flesh underneath his fingertips. His lips find yours again, desperate and hungry to taste you. His tongue explores your mouth eagerly.

You begin to lose yourself in the intensity—all the negative feelings and the teasing have washed away, and you remember exactly why you loved Dio in the first place. He continues to thrust into you until there is only Dio, his touch, his love for you.

Your fingernails dig deeply into his back as you begin to reach your peak, something you don’t need to vocalize. He keeps the pace, every plunge into you powerful and mind-shattering. The pressure builds within you, an unstoppable force driving you towards the edge.

As you reach your climax, your body tenses and your inner walls clench around his cock. He continues to thrust through your orgasm, making you cry out at the sensation. Your back arches into him as you cum. Dio feels your body’s reaction, and it drives him wild.

He groans deeply as his grip on your hips tightens. The feeling of you convulsing around him pushes him over the edge. With a few forceful thrusts, he buries his cock deep inside you and spills his hot seed into your womb.

Your shared ecstasy is profound, as his body shudders against yours. His breath is hot and heavy in your ear as you cling to each other. You collapse against him, and he holds you close, his breath warm against your skin. “I love you,” he whispers, leaving a trail of kisses along the marks he left on you.

“I love you,” you reply, feeling utterly content in his arms.

Chapter Text

The sound of your heels clicking echoed throughout the halls of your palace, your followers patiently at each entrance awaiting any order you may give. You offer a smile to each member, doing your best to give them individual attention. Their reactions were always wholesome, excited to see their Queen passing by.

You weren’t like other vampire colonies; each member of your familia came to you with an open heart and clear mind. They asked to be part of this life, part of your world. You fought to create a democratic environment, but you were a natural leader. They looked up to you in ways that could almost be considered supernatural. So you were their Queen.

To create structure, those who decided to follow you were assigned different roles based on their transformation. Some became sharp in mind, incredible tacticians behind the scenes. Others took on more physical changes, aligning with certain roles within your armies on the battlefront.

One of the newest recruits took on a form you had never witnessed before. The memory is as clear as ever. 

His sclera darkened like the midnight sky, the iris crimson like the life-giver: blood. Any colour from his hair vanished, leaving behind silver strands. His fangs, now dripping with your darkened blood, signified his feed was complete. Risotto was transformed into a creature of the night, a part of your familia.

“My Queen,” he bows before you. “Wherever you go, I will follow you. My loyalty knows no bounds.” The determination in his gaze was striking, something you had witnessed before but never in this concentration. You reach out to cup his face in your hand, searching his eyes to find nothing but truth.

“Welcome, and may you find strength within your familia! A guiding light within the darkness!” you shout, and the surrounding vampires cheer, the excitement in the room electric.

After spending time with Risotto as he settled into his new unlife, you discovered his skill with infiltration and gathering information was beyond the capabilities of others within your familia . This skill was natural to him, and it had to be nourished. You spent countless hours, and days, training and cherishing his newfound skills.

As the days turned into weeks, Risotto’s abilities flourished under your guidance. He learned to move like a shadow, unseen and unheard, gathering intelligence that proved invaluable. The bond between you and Risotto grew stronger, built on mutual respect and a shared purpose.

Recognizing his progress, you decided to celebrate with a grand feast, an event that would both honour Risotto’s transformation and allow your familia to revel in their unity. The preparations were elaborate, with tables laden with delicacies and the grand hall adorned in opulent decorations.

The night of the feast, the hall buzzed with anticipation. You stood at the head of the table, raising a glass to address your familia . “Tonight, we celebrate not only the strength and loyalty of our newest member, Risotto, but also the unity and strength of our familia . May we always stand together, a beacon of power and purpose in the darkness!”

Cheers erupted around the hall as you gestured for Risotto to stand beside you. “Risotto, your dedication and skill have already proven invaluable. We are honoured to have you among us.”

Risotto bowed his head slightly, a rare softness in his usually intense gaze. “Thank you, my Queen. Your guidance has been my strength.”

The feast progressed, and you found a moment of respite where you could spend a quiet moment with yourself. You let out a sigh of relief; you love your colony, but you also cherish the peace that accompanies solitude.

Your peace is disturbed, but you don’t mind it much. Risotto approaches you with a look of contemplation on his face. “Risotto, what troubles you?” you reach a hand out to him, placing a firm grip on his shoulder as you close the distance between you.

“My Queen,” he began, his voice low, as if to avoid attention from the others. “There is something I would like to express.” You search his gaze, intrigued by his vulnerability. “Come, we can discuss this somewhere more private.” You gesture for him to follow you down the hallways, the music and festivities fading away as you enter one of the research chambers.

The moonlight shone brightly over desks within, scattered with scrolls and parchments dedicated to multiple topics. The mahogany doors close with a distinct click behind you, as Risotto lets out a shallow sigh.

“I understand when an audience can make certain topics difficult, but I never want you to feel that you can’t speak your truth. What is on your mind?” you say softly, sitting on a nearby chair.

Risotto hesitated for a moment, his usually unyielding demeanour softened by the intimacy of the setting. He took a deep breath before speaking. “My Queen, since my transformation, I have felt a profound change not just in my abilities but within my very soul. I have always lived in shadows, hiding from the light, seeking revenge and purpose. But here, with you, I have found something different—a sense of belonging and a family I never thought possible.”

You listened intently, your eyes never leaving his. “Go on,” you encouraged, sensing there was more he needed to say.

“I have pledged my loyalty to you, not just because of the bond we share as vampires, but because I genuinely believe in your vision. You have given me purpose and direction. However, with that comes a fear I have never felt before—the fear of failing you and our familia . I don’t want to let you down.”

You rose from your seat and approached him, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Risotto, your dedication is unwavering, and your skills are unmatched. You have already proven yourself time and again. Remember, we are a familia , and that means we support each other. You are not alone in this. We face our challenges together.”

"I want to show you how far my loyalty extends, if you will allow me?" Risotto reaches his hand up to where you've placed yours, gently moving it down to his chest. You can feel the slow, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat, a testament to his unwavering resolve and devotion.

"Very well," you state, feeling the intensity of the moment. "What is it you intend to show me?" You watch as he kneels before you, looking downward to your feet.

"I want you to command me in any way you please. I want you to witness my loyalty in this way."

"Risotto…" you trail off, before he cuts you off, looking you directly in the eyes.

"You are our benevolent Queen, one who treats each of us as equals. But the truth is, your capabilities are beyond our understanding. With one motion of your hand, we could become tyrants of the living world. Even if it’s for one night, I want you to utilize this strength you have."

"Command me, my Queen, and I shall do whatever you wish."

The sincerity in his voice and the fervour in his eyes leave you momentarily speechless. You had always led with compassion and fairness, never seeking to impose your will through sheer power. Yet, here before you was a loyal follower, willing to submit entirely to demonstrate his unwavering devotion.

You let out a small chuckle from your pursed lips. “If this is what you desire, I will not deny you.” You trail your leather heel along the outer side of his thigh, feeling the tension in his body. “But you can rescind your consent at any time.” He lets out a rattled sigh at your comment, as if a wave of relief has washed over him.

"Thank you, my Queen," Risotto murmurs, his voice trembling slightly. "Your consideration means more than you know." 

Something about seeing Risotto kneeling by your feet with complete devotion to you is intoxicating in a way you had never experienced before. There was something entirely special about him.

“My shoes, they’re getting uncomfortable. Can you remove them?” you raise one foot barely an inch above the ground. Risotto rushes to remove the shoe with the utmost delicacy, placing it to the side before you place your bare foot down and lift the other.

As he carefully slides the second shoe off, you can’t help but notice the reverence in his movements. His touch is gentle, almost worshipful, as if this act of service is a privilege rather than a duty. The simple act of removing your shoes takes on a profound significance, a silent testament to the depth of his loyalty and the unique bond you share.

With your feet bare, you rest them lightly on the carpet that lines the cool stone floor. A sense of relief and comfort washes over you. You take your seat, crossing your legs as Risotto stays in place. “My feet and legs ache, come,” you command, and he crawls over to you without hesitation.

As before, you barely raise your leg before his strong grasp starts to rub along the ball of your foot first, then moving up to your calves, dragging his thumbs firmly into your flesh to relieve the tension in your muscles. You let out a pleased sigh; it felt good to take the weight of responsibility away for a moment.

His hands work with practised precision, finding and soothing the sore spots with a firm but careful touch. Each stroke is deliberate, almost reverent, as he kneads away the accumulated stress of your duties.

“Where else do you ache, my Queen?” he asks, looking up into your gaze.

You smirk as you free one of your thighs from your dress through a side split. “Here,” you say, rubbing along your thigh.

Risotto’s eyes follow the motion of your hand, and without hesitation, he moves to your exposed thigh. His fingers press into your flesh with the same careful strength, working their way along the length of your thigh. The sensation sends a ripple of relief through your muscles, and you let out a contented sigh.

You can’t help but notice the wetness between your legs as you are served. You curse yourself internally for finding such satisfaction with Risotto’s unwavering dedication. You take a deep breath before steeling yourself for your next request.

“I’m done with your hands, I have a new task for you,” you say, gesturing at his hands. They leave immediately, the ghost of his grip lingering on your flesh. You spread your legs, lifting your dress to expose your pussy to him.

Risotto's eyes widen slightly as he takes in the sight before him. He takes his time to witness your form, admiring the slickness of your opening. His breath catches, but he quickly composes himself, his gaze returning to yours, filled with unspoken desire and unwavering loyalty.

“My Queen,” he breathes, his voice husky with a mix of awe and devotion. “Your wish is my command.”

“Then make it so,” you say with a smirk, your eyes locked onto his.

Without hesitation, Risotto leans down, his lips parting as his tongue lightly drags upwards from your opening to your clit. You gasp softly, your fingers curling into the armrests of your chair. His tongue continues to explore, finding and caressing every sensitive spot of your mound. 

A moan escapes your lips, the sound softly echoing throughout the space. One of your hands finds its way to his head, maintaining a light grip on his hair. “You’re doing good, Risotto. Keep it up, go a bit faster,” you whisper, your voice thick with pleasure.

The intensity of his touch increases, and his tongue delves deeper, swirling and licking in a consistent rhythm that brings your climax closer to reality. Each movement is precise, driven by his unwavering dedication to your satisfaction.

“You… you want me to cum, don't you?” you mutter, breathlessly.

He responds with a devout nod, his eyes never leaving yours as he continues to work, his devotion clear in every stroke of his tongue.

“Devour like it will be your last meal,” your words come out harshly as your desire overrides your logic.

Spurred on by your command, Risotto doubles his efforts, his tongue moving with an urgency and heat that pushes you closer and closer to the edge. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of intense pleasure and the thrill of complete control. His hands hold your thighs steady as you reach your orgasm.

You hiss as your grip on his hair tightens, guiding him through as you ride your climax. Your body trembles with the intensity of your release. Risotto's unwavering dedication never falters; his tongue continues to work, prolonging your ecstasy until you can hardly stand it.

You release your grip on his hair, and he immediately creates distance between you. “You…Risotto…” you struggle to articulate between heavy panting. “If your cock is as worthy as your mouth, you would be wise to show me,” you growl, standing from your now-soaked chair, swiping your hand across one of the desks, parchments flying everywhere. You spread your legs, before bending over the length of the table, exposing yourself to him but maintaining all control.

“Come, Risotto,” you command, your voice firm and filled with authority. “Show me how well you can serve your Queen.”

Risotto’s eyes darken with desire as he steps forward, his hands trembling slightly with anticipation. He positions himself behind you, rushing to remove his clothing to expose his cock. His hands caress your hips before gripping them firmly.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he guides his cock to your entrance, the heat and slickness drawing a low groan from both of you. He pauses, waiting for your command to proceed.

“Now, Risotto,” you order, your voice a husky whisper. “Fuck me, and pray you satisfy me.”

He obeys instantly, thrusting into you with a powerful motion that takes your breath away. His movements are strong and deliberate, each hilt of his length inside you creating an echo of skin-on-skin throughout the room. Your moans, low from your throat, tell Risotto exactly what he needs to do.

His fingers dig into your flesh as he thrusts harder and faster, driving you wild with the intensity. You arch your back, wanting to take his cock deeper still inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, your body trembling with each powerful thrust.

One of his hands moves from your hip to your breast, using it as leverage as he fucks you deeper. His fingers fidget with the peak of your tit, pulling and pinching, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. Your moans grow louder, more urgent, as he expertly works your body.

“Risotto, yes… just like that,” you pant, your voice thick with desire. “Don’t stop.”

He maintains his pace, driving you wild with pleasure. His hand on your breast continues to tease and torment you, adding to the incredible sensations coursing through you. The pressure inside you builds rapidly, your climax approaching with each thrust. 

You grip the edges of the table, your knuckles white as Risotto pushes you closer and closer to your climax. All at once, the tension snaps inside you and you cry out, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Risotto follows shortly after, triggered by the intensity of your release.

With a few final thrusts, he pulls his slick cock from you before shooting his cum all over your back. Despite his trembling form after his release, he immediately starts to clean you with his tongue, his actions tender and reverent, as if asking for silent forgiveness for tarnishing your flesh with his cum.

The sensation of his tongue gliding over your skin is both soothing and intimate, each stroke a wordless apology. You can feel his sincerity in every movement, his devotion palpable as he ensures every trace of his release is gone.

Once he has finished, Risotto stands back, his breathing still heavy, his eyes filled with a mix of reverence and satisfaction. “My Queen,” he whispers, his voice barely audible but filled with emotion. “Thank you for allowing me to serve you in this way.”

You turn to face him, your expression softened by the shared intensity of the moment. “Your loyalty and dedication are unmatched. You are certainly special, Risotto.”

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the weight of your words seems to take him by surprise. He bows his head slightly, a look of deep contentment and humility on his face. “Thank you, my Queen. It is my greatest honour to serve you.”

You step closer, reaching out to place a hand on his cheek, feeling the subtle warmth of his skin beneath your fingers. “It is my honour to have you here with me,” you say softly.

Chapter Text

You squirm with anticipation, your thighs tightly rubbing against each other, as you lay down on your bed. With your heart pounding and your head racing, you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You just sent some really horny messages to your boyfriend, Mista, while he was out today and you know he’s practically speeding to get to you.

The screen of your phone glows softly in your dimly lit room, a comforting but seriously dangerous reminder of your barrage of lewd selfies. Amidst all this, you’ve been scrolling endlessly on your favourite fanfic website, consuming stories about your newest hyper-fixation character. Each plot twist and smutty scene gives you new ideas, fueling the fire.

Lately, you’ve developed an oral fixation that has taken over your thoughts and fantasies. It’s an intense, insatiable craving. You’ve ensured Mista knows what to expect when he barrels through your door.

Each selfie is more lewd than the last, with your tongue poking out or your throat suggestively open, begging for his attention.

“I can’t stop thinking about where my mouth can explore you.”

“I need you, Mista. Come over and give me what I’m craving.”

Your phone buzzes, snapping your thoughts from the past and bringing you to the now. You’ve received a message, a photo of his hand palming his cock through his pants.

“I have a few ideas. Be ready for me, baby boy.”

The simple text and suggestive image send a shiver down your spine, anticipation curling in your belly. You know that when Mista arrives, your desires will finally be fulfilled, and each of your fantasies will be brought to life by his touch. The wait is torture, but fuck it’s a thrill. 

Minutes feel like hours as you lie there, each sound from outside making your heart race faster. Then, finally, you hear the unmistakable sound of his key in the lock. The door opens, and Mista steps inside, his eyes immediately locking onto yours.

Your heart is alight as he strides across the room, pulling you into a deep, hungry kiss. His hands roam your body with a possessiveness that makes you melt. Your hands begin to explore the firm muscles along his torso, savouring the feeling of him against you. 

He pulls back, eyes darkened by his desire. “Babe, you were driving me crazy out there. I couldn’t get here quick enough,” he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver of arousal through you. You bite your lip as the heat spreads across your cheeks. “I couldn’t help it, I needed you,” you admit, voice faltering slightly with your arousal. 

His hand cups your chin, tilting your head so you’re looking directly at him. “Good,” he says, his voice soft with that praise you love so much. "I like it when you need me. It makes me want to take care of you even more."

He gently pushes you back onto the bed, his hands roaming and pulling as he removes your clothing, laying you bare in front of him. His gaze travels across your body, taking in every inch of you. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you in the nook of your neck. “You’ve been such a good boy for me, showing me what you want.”

Your chest swells with warmth at his words. “I want to make you happy,” you softly reply. “And you do,” he assures you, his kisses travelling to your collarbone. “You make me so happy.”

He leans back again, removing his hat, and then his shirt. You love his musky scent and his scruffy hair, especially when he’s been working hard all day. “So, what are we to do with this?” he gestures to his hard cock, struggling against the tightness of his pants. 

“Well, back up and I’ll show you,” you say, gesturing your hands in a waving motion, as he moves back and off the bed. You crawl towards him, your face inches away from his cock, before you swivel your body around, laying your head over the edge of the bed. You poke out your tongue, opening your throat as much as you can, matching one of your photos from earlier. 

He groans as he chuckles at the sight, his desire palpable as he looks down at you. “You do a really good job at driving me wild, babe. Almost too good.” 

You see Mista unbuckle his belt, loosening his pants before letting them fall to the ground. You smell his arousal instantly, his cock standing to attention right before you making your heart palpitate. You feel the warmth of his hands cradling your head, his touch tender. He positions himself, with the tip of his cock brushing against your open mouth.

You brace yourself, the anticipation building in your belly as you take in the saltiness of his skin, the scent of his arousal overwhelming your senses in the best way. Slowly, he eases himself in, his groan travelling through you as you take him in deeper. Your mouth and throat slowly accommodate his girth, every inch sparking bolts of pleasure throughout your body.

"That's it," he praises, his voice husky and breathless. "Such a good boy. You take me so well." you let out a whimpering moan in reply, vibrating his cock inside your throat. You submit your throat to his rhythm as he starts to thrust his hips in and out of your mouth. His movements are controlled, but not intense enough for you. 

His hand strokes your cheek, as he lets out a gasping moan. “I love the way you look right now,” he whispers. “You’re so perfect, baby boy.” Another whimper escapes you, as you pull your hands out, grabbing onto his hips. You pull him in harder, making you gag slightly at the sensation. 

“Oh, not fast enough for you babe? I can get rough,” he laughs, withdrawing his cock slightly before pushing his length down your throat again. You start to buck your hips, eager to keep up the pace. He takes the hint, his grip on your hair tightening as he begins to thrust harder. 

“That’s it, take the whole fucking thing. You’re doing so good, taking me in so deep in your pretty throat.”

You feel a ping of excitement in your chest, your body’s eager response to his praise. The rougher pace is exactly what you wanted, spit builds up over his cock and dribbles down your mouth. The pleasure and submission of it all leave your mind in a haze. You relax your throat, letting him take complete control. 

His hands, now entangled in your hair, guide your movements as he continues his relentless thrusting. "Look at you," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "So eager to please, so perfect for me."

As he continues to thrust, you feel the pace become more erratic. His breathing is coming in short, ragged gasps and moans. "I'm close," he warns, his voice a strained whisper. "You're gonna make me cum, baby boy." 

His words push you to increase your efforts for your reward. You hollow your cheeks, creating a seal around his cock as your tongue works in tandem with his movements. His hands grasp your throat now, as he chases his release. 

Finally, with a deep groan, he reaches his climax. His release fills the back of your throat, hot and salty, and you swallow greedily. You wouldn’t dare waste a drop. Even as he trembles through his orgasm, his whispers of praise continue. After a few more moments, he pulls his cock from your mouth, sopping wet with your saliva.

You pant underneath him, realizing you couldn’t have taken a proper breath while servicing him. He helps you sit up, cradling your face in his hands. "You’re incredible," he says, kissing you deeply. "You make me feel so good, so loved."

You smile tiredly, your body still buzzing from the intensity of the moment. Before you can fully catch your breath, he gently moves you back onto the bed, positioning your head to rest on your pillow. With a tender yet commanding touch, he turns your body so your ass is sticking up, perfectly presented for him.

"You're not done yet, are you?" he whispers, his voice a mix of playfulness and desire. His hands roam over your body, caressing your back and hips, making you shiver with anticipation.

He kneels behind you, his hands spreading your cheeks apart to admire the sight before him. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe. "So perfect for me."

You barely have time to respond before you feel his flat tongue taking in the taste of your ass. The sensation is overwhelming, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You moan softly, your hands gripping the sheets as he continues to explore you with his tongue.

His touch is tender as much as it’s demanding, his mouth sucking lightly between his flicking and teasing. You arch your back, pushing yourself into him as much as possible. He hums, approval evident as his hands grip your hips and he delves deeper, his tongue exploring every inch of you.

You let out a series of moans and whimpers, your body trembling with need. His mouth pulls away from your hole to praise you. “You taste so good,” he growls, voice thick with lust. “I could do this all night.”

“Please, Mista,” you beg, squirming underneath his grip. "I need you inside me."

He pulls back, his lips and chin glistening. You turn over your shoulder to see him, his eyes meeting yours. "As you wish," he says, his voice a low rumble.

He positions himself at your entrance, now prepared for his girth as his tip flicks teasingly. “Ready, babe?” he asks, hand steadying your hips.

“Yes, Mista, please,” you pant, your body trembling with need.

"Ohh, I love hearing my name on your lips, fuck,” he groans in reply, before slowly prodding the head of his cock inside your ass. He takes his time with you, allowing you to adjust as he eventually fills you completely.

You gasp, feeling the intense fullness as he inches deeper, stretching you in the most exquisite way. Mista pauses, giving you a moment to adjust, his hands gently rubbing soothing circles on your hips. “You’re so tight,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and desire. “You feel incredible.”

You moan in response, pushing back slightly to take him deeper. “Please, Mista,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need. “Move.”

With a low growl, he begins to thrust, each movement slow and deliberate, savouring every sensation. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding you to meet his rhythm. “That’s it,” he praises, his voice husky with arousal. “You’re doing so well, baby boy. Taking me so good.”

The intensity builds with each thrust, the pleasure mounting as he picks up the pace. His movements become more forceful, driving deeper into you, filling you completely. Your moans grow louder, mixing with his groans, creating a symphony of shared ecstasy.

“You’re perfect for me,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “So perfect.”

You can only whimper in response, lost in the overwhelming sensation of him moving inside you. You arch your back deeper into him, desperate to feel more of him as you get closer to reaching your orgasm. 

As his pace quickens, you grab for his hand and put it to your aching clit, desperate for his touch. He takes the hint immediately, his fingers circling your sensitive nub. The combined sensation of his thrusts and his fingers on you builds up the intensity inside of you. 

"That's it," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "Cum for me, baby boy. Let me feel you."

The pressure continues to build inside you, your body trembling with anticipation - you can feel your orgasm approaching. “Mista,” you gasp, your voice breaking as you cry. “I’m so close, please don’t stop.”

He quickens his pace, matching his thrusts to his fingers, driving your pleasure higher and higher. He brings his body down to yours, biting down on your shoulder as he continues to mount you. The feeling of his hot body, slick with sweat, dominating you as he pounds into your ass sends you over the edge.

Your orgasm hits you all at once, and you cry out his name as your body convulses with pleasure. Your senses become overwhelmed as he continues to move inside of you through your climax. "That's my good boy," he murmurs, his voice filled with pride and affection. "You did so well."

He isn't far behind you. With a few more thrusts, his grip on your hips tightens as his cock spills his hot cum inside of you, making him groan with satisfaction. The warmth of his release fills you, and you both ride the waves of your mutual pleasure, bodies trembling together.

After a few moments, he gently eases out of you, his hands still tenderly holding your hips. He collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms, your bodies sticky with sweat and still buzzing from the intensity of the experience. He kisses your forehead softly, his breath warm against your skin.

"You were amazing," he whispers, his voice filled with admiration for you. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," you reply, your voice soft and content. "Always."

Chapter Text

The moonlight casts a dim, silvery glow throughout the abandoned warehouse you have run into, hoping to give yourself time to recover. The air is tense as your gang clashes with a powerful rival, the echo of shrill gunfire reverberating throughout the expansive space.

Your gasps come in shallow bursts as you look at your arm, bleeding from an impact you never realized you had taken. You click your tongue in frustration, tearing a part of your shirt to create an ad-hoc bandage to stem the bleeding. A particular member of the rival gang has always caught your attention, every time you fight.

His name is Narancia, a reckless but powerful soldato within the Passione. Amidst the chaos of the battle, his gaze locked onto yours - and you felt something twinge inside your chest, a sensation unlike anything you have ever experienced. Before you can comprehend your feelings, you lost sight of him.

Your recollection is cut short when you hear the echo of light footsteps on the concrete in the warehouse. You curse inwardly, shuffling between corridors of palettes and shelving to avoid being found. You pat your thigh, then your ankle, before realizing your gun is missing.

Shit.

The footsteps inch closer, and you are completely vulnerable. Then, you hear your name in a sing-song manner, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Where are you?” Narancia’s voice is low and melodic, dripping with danger. “You can’t hide from me.”

Panic surges through you as you try to find a better hiding spot, but Narancia’s footsteps are drawing nearer. The game of cat and mouse is nearing its end, and you are the prey. You can feel the intensity of his presence growing stronger with each step he takes.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he taunts, his voice echoing off the walls of the warehouse. "I just want to see you."

You press yourself against the back of a large metal shelf, trying to steady your breathing. But it is no use. Narancia’s footsteps stop, and you can feel his eyes on you before you even see him.

"There you are," he says softly, stepping into view. His jet-black hair frames his face, and his eyes glint with a mixture of victory and something more dangerous. "I knew I’d find you."

Before you can react, Narancia closes the distance between you. His lithe frame presses against yours, pinning you to the cold, concrete wall. His breath is hot against your neck, his presence predatory and imposing in a way you could never imagine. His voice is a low, controlled whisper.

"I finally have you," he murmurs, his lips grazing your ear. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this."

"Narancia, let me go," you manage to say, trying to keep your voice steady.

He chuckles softly, his hands roaming over your body with a feverish urgency. "Why would I do that? You belong to me."

Your heart races as his every touch sends a shiver through your body, the thin barrier of your clothes doing little to hide the growing tension in your pants. You feel almost shameful that your instincts are to submit to his advances. Narancia’s touch is possessive, every movement is a claim on your tender body.

“W-What?” you stutter,  a heat growing from your neck to your cheeks. 

"You’re mine," he growls, his voice rough with need. "No one else can have you."

His lips crash onto yours in a fierce, hungry kiss. His tongue glides along your bottom lip, before you submit and open your mouth to him, for him to taste you. Narancia’s hands find their way to your pants, palming and groping onto your hard length. You groan into his touch as he tugs at your belt, before quickly removing it. 

His own arousal is evident through the tightness of his pants. He pulls away from your mouth, leaving you panting and whimpering. He drops to his knees, his heavy-lidded eyes never leaving yours as he pulls your pants down, revealing your cock, dripping with precum. “W-wait, Narancia,” you plead, but for nought.

He takes you into his mouth, the sensation overwhelming as he works your length with his tongue and lips. Your hands tangle into his hair as you melt into his demands, and give yourself over to him. 

Your hips buck as he takes you in deeper, his throat deliciously constricting your cock with each thrust. He cups your balls, gently kneading them as he works on you. You feel your peak arriving quickly, whimpering louder as the pressure builds.

“N-Narancia, please,” you beg, desperation evident in your voice. Just as the tension becomes unbearable, he pulls back, leaving you panting and aching for more. He stands, wiping away the excess saliva from his mouth with the back of his hand, a predatory grin on his face.

“Turn around,” he commands, gesturing his finger in a circle. You obey, pressing your hands against the wall as he takes in the sight of you. “Spread,” he growls, the raw intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. You oblige without hesitation, grasping each cheek and pulling them apart, revealing your puckered ass and hardened length as you bend over slightly.

You’re surprised by the sensation of his tongue over your ass, savouring the taste as he flicks and glides his tongue over your entrance. You let out a throaty moan, your cock dribbling precum as the pleasure overwhelms you.

Narancia’s grip tightens on your hips as he devours you, his tongue working in slow, deliberate circles, teasing and exploring every inch. You can barely keep yourself upright, your legs trembling with the intensity of his touch. His tongue probes your hole, slowly stretching you as it thrusts in and out of you.

He pulls back slightly, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, leaving light kisses on your hole as you twitch under his touch.

“I, I want you, Narancia,” you plead with him, pushing yourself eagerly into his kiss. The need in your voice is palpable, a desperate yearning that only he can satisfy.

“And no one else?” he chuckles, teasing you further.

“No, fuck no!” you whine, the intensity of your desire evident in every word.

Narancia’s chuckle vibrates against your skin, his amusement only heightening your arousal. “Good,” he growls, his voice low and possessive. “Because you’re mine, and I don’t share.”

He dives back in, his tongue thrusting deeper, stretching you further as he consumes you. The sensation is maddening, every flick and swirl of his tongue driving you closer to the edge. Your legs shake, barely able to support your weight as you lean harder against the wall for support.

“Please, Narancia,” you gasp, your voice trembling with desire. “I need you. I need you so badly”

His tongue retreats as he unzips his pants, taking away the last of his clothing to reveal his cock. The tip, hot and firm, presses against your entrance. You shiver with anticipation, your body aching for him to fuck your brains out. He flicks the head of his cock around your sensitive opening, teasing you, making you squirm with need.

Then, with a slow, deliberate thrust, he enters your needy hole. A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the intensity of the sensation, your body tensing before relaxing as he fills you. One of Narancia’s hands grips your hip, while the other reaches around to take your cock in his grip, pumping in time with his thrusts.

He drives deeper and deeper, each thrust more forceful than the last. The rhythm is relentless, a powerful mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless. You cry his name over and over like a desperate prayer, the words spilling from your lips in a litany of need.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Narancia growls, his voice rough with desire. “You feel so good.”

You can only moan in response, your mind overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. His hand on your cock moves in perfect sync with his thrusts, each stroke sending waves of pleasure radiating from your core.

Narancia’s grip on your hip tightens, his pace quickening as he pounds into you. The room echoes with the sound of your ragged breaths, the wet slap of skin against skin, and the desperate cries of your name. The pleasure builds with each thrust, an unstoppable force that drives you closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Narancia,” you gasp, your voice a strained whisper. “I’m so close.”

“Cum for me, then,” Narancia growls, his voice dripping with possession. “Only after you do will I fill you.”

The intensity of his command sends you over the edge. Your body tenses, a cry of pure ecstasy tearing from your throat as you cum, your release spilling over Narancia’s hand. The pleasure is blinding, a white-hot explosion that leaves you trembling and spent.

“I told you, you belong to me,” he lets out a throaty laugh, before leaving butterfly kisses on your neck and shoulder. “There’s no way I’m letting you go now, either.”

His kisses trail along your skin, each one sending a shiver down your spine. The possessiveness in his voice is clear, but so is the affection. It’s a heady mix that leaves you feeling both claimed and cherished.

“You better not,” you manage to say, your voice still breathless. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”