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celestie0 · 3 months

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𝗇𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂 𝗄𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 | 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗎 (𝟣𝟪+)

↠ '𝖻𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿' 𝖼𝗁.𝟣 𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗂𝖻𝗂

ᰔ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗎 - 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗋! 𝗇𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂 𝗑 𝖽𝗈𝖼𝗍𝗈𝗋! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 (𝖿)

ᰔ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺r𝗒. 𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍-𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝖼𝗍𝗈𝗋, 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾-𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗑-𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽. 𝖴𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗎𝗇𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗂𝗍𝗒'𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗋, 𝖭𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂 𝖪𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈, 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽.

[𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾: 𝗂 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 '𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗋', 𝖺𝗄𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗍 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗒, 𝗏𝖺𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗉𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇: 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗏𝗍. 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝖾𝗏𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾]

ᰔ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌/𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌. 𝟣𝟪+, 𝖿𝖾𝗆! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝗑 (𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀), 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗏𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀/𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽/𝗀𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗒, 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗆𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗇𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌

ᰔ 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝟣/? (𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝟪)

ᰔ 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌. 𝟨,𝟪𝟦𝟨

𝖺/𝗇. 𝗂'𝗆 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗈𝗈 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌!!! 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾. 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀! 𝗂'𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗎𝗉𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 '𝗄𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗈𝖿𝖿'. 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗈𝗈𝗒! -𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖾

“Manhattan up, darlin’,” the bartender says to you, sliding the martini glass your way with the deep red liquid sloshing right up to the rim of the glass but never spilling over.

You look up at him in confusion. “I didn’t order that.”

“No, but that gentleman over there ordered it for you,” the bartender said to you with a jerk of his head off towards the edge of the bar to the left before walking off to help another customer.

You let out a flattered scoff, fingers gently holding the stem of the glass to swish the drink around, and you watch the way the maraschino cherry slowly floats at the bottom. After a tactful five seconds, you finally glance over to the other end of the bar and your eyes land on a man bringing a glass of whiskey up to his lips, the ice within settling slightly as he takes a sip with his gaze locking onto yours.

Oh god, he was handsome as fucking hell. This was bad news.

The man had broad shoulders and was wearing a dark gray suit, black tie loosened slightly around his neck, with a maroon dress shirt underneath that had a few buttons undone. Even under all the fabric, you could tell how muscular he was. His blonde hair was mostly styled back with a few locks of hair falling free onto his forehead that made him look like he just got off of a long work day. His eyes slowly rake down the side of your body, landing on your bare legs where your dress was hardly covering anything, and then he’s bringing the glass to his lips again.

You shuffle on the bar stool, attempting to pull down the hem of your dress to try and cover yourself a bit from his burning gaze, but who were you kidding? You wanted him to look. You bring the Manhattan to your lips and take a sip, eye contact not faltering as though to challenge him. His masculine jaw clenched as he downs his drink in one go and then gets up from where he sat to make his way over to you.

You look back down into the red hues swirling around in your glass, fixing your hair as you see him approach in your periphery until he’s standing right next to you. You looked up at him, registering that he was tall, and he leaned onto the bar counter then bent down towards you slightly. Giving him the most innocent eyes you could manage, you blink up at him with fluttering eyelashes. “Can I help you?” Your voice was at least an octave higher than your usual.

“What’s your name, sweetheart,” he’s asking you and you find yourself blushing at the casual pet name. His voice was smooth, velvety, the deep resonance sending your mind into a haze.

You break your gaze off from him and stare straight ahead, resting your elbow on the bar counter and lifting your glass up to swirl it around in the air in front of you. You enjoyed the feeling of his eyes on you, and the slightest of smiles makes its way onto your face against your will. “Don’t have one, not here. I’m just a nameless stranger in a bar to you,” you evasively say to him as you take another sip. He’s sitting down next to you now and his legs are spread to where his knee is pressed against your thigh. You’re rolling your eyes at the audacity of the manspread but you’re also entirely turned on by it too.

“Is there a reason you don’t want me to know your name?” he inquires with a husky voice and waves the bartender over to order another single malt scotch. It arrives right away and he plays with the rim of the glass. Your eyes drop to the movement, watching as his index finger draws circles along the edge. His hands were big, rough-looking, with an array of veins that become more defined as he eventually wraps his hand around the drink.

You feel like you’re his prey, caught in the territory of his pursuit as his presence next to you completely dulls your surroundings. He’s close enough to where you’re encaged by his spread seating position and you’re subconsciously leaning towards him as you look over to him again. “Yes. In case we end up doing something I’ll regret,” you whisper. You finish the Manhattan he ordered for you with a delicate tip back of your head and then pinch the stem of the cherry in the glass. His eyes watch as you bring the little treat to your lips and bite down on the flesh of it slowly, sucking in the red juice, and a pigmented droplet threatens to fall from the edge of your mouth.

The man reaches his hand out, bent index finger tilting your head up slightly so you have no choice but to look at him, and your lips part as his thumb swipes at the edge of your mouth, collecting the drop, and then he’s bringing his thumb to his mouth to lick the mess off. “You won’t end up regretting anything, doll. Not with me.”

“Mmmmm…K-Kento, fuck. Fuck!”

Within less than an hour, you find yourself thrown back onto a king-sized bed in this devilishly handsome man’s skyline penthouse, fabric of your dress bunched up over your hips and panties dangling at your ankle. Oh, and his gorgeous face between your thighs. He’s got your legs up on his shoulders and you’re squirming, squealing, hands desperately grabbing onto the silk sheets for purchase as he makes a mess of you at your core.

“You taste so sweet, doll,” he’s growling against you, the vibrations of his voice hitting the sensitive nerves of your clit as he lewdly sucks on it, one arm wrapped around one of your thighs in an attempt to keep you still while he pumped his middle and ring finger into your cunt, agonizingly slowly.

“More, more, I…” you’re whimpering, hand shooting down to grip at the soft locks of hair on the top of his head, his previously smoothed-back style now completely disheveled by you. His mouth unlatches from you and his tongue hangs from his mouth as he pulls away from your core, still connected to your clit by a slick string of your arousal and his saliva.

“You what, sweetheart? Tell me what you’re needing,” he drawls with a fucked out expression on his face. He starts pumping his thick fingers inside you faster, curled up to hit that delicate spot inside that has you almost choke him with your thighs, and then he starts flicking his tongue against your clit fast.

“Need…mm, god, n-need to cum,” you’re almost crying now, both hands grabbing at his hair. You throw your head back onto the pillow when he licks a long, rough swipe up your folds and starts to fully fuck you with his fingers, the sound of your wetness from his movements causing him to groan against your center.

Your moans turn into screams, distressed and hoarse, as he begins to harshly suck on your clit, relentless with his tongue, and looks up at you from between your thighs with dilated and wild eyes. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yesss!” you scream out, your entire body shaking and twitching as you come undone, walls clenching around his fingers that continue to pump in and out of you to help ride out your orgasm. He pulls his fingers out just as you begin to come down from the high, and his tongue is quick to lap at your entrance that was now sopping wet and dripping from the release. You’re looking at him stunned, vision spotted black, attempting to blink away the haze in your head.

He kneels back on the bed and lets your legs fall from his shoulders, limp and to his side, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and staring down at you with a viscerally intense expression, pupils blown and his chest expanding against the tight fabric of his maroon dress shirt with every heavy breath. You had only managed to undress him of his tie and suit jacket earlier before he was hungrily shoving his face between your thighs, but now you’re impatient to see him naked, hands flying to his shirt to finish undoing the buttons before he grabs both of your wrists with one hand and brings his fingers, the ones still coated with your arousal, to your mouth and casually pushes them inside. You feel one of your cheeks stretch from the intrusion and you take it without a sound of complaint, tongue immediately swirling around his fingers.

“Fucking hell,” he’s growling at the sight, eyes narrowing and he palms at his erection through his pants. “Good girl. You’ll keep up those cute screams while I stuff you and fuck you too, right?”

You grab his wrist and pull his fingers out of your mouth with a pop and eagerly nod. He lets out a deep rumble from his chest before he undoes the buttons of his shirt, revealing the toned muscles underneath as well as the trail of hair leading into the parts of him you wanted to get to know better, and then he throws the article of clothing onto the floor with the others discarded earlier. His hands grab at your dress, practically yanking it up over your head, and your tits bounce from the motion before settling. You were now completely naked in front of him and he took in every inch of you with a greedy stare.

“Lay down,” he demands, which you do, and then he’s reaching over you to the nightstand by the bed to open the drawer and pull out a condom, ripping the foil open with his teeth.

You perch yourself up on your elbows and look at him impressed. “Wow, first time I didn’t need to remind a man to wear one. Responsible.”

He looks over at you with a raised eyebrow. “What kind of men do you sleep with?”

The question is shockingly offensive, one you don’t really have an answer for, and so you lay back down onto your back as he pulls at his belt. You enjoy the show as his strong hands remove the end from the buckle, pulling it back in the opposite direction to free the metal latch, and slide the leather out from the loops of his suit pants. He palms at his erection again, a subtle groan leaving his lips, and then he undoes the button of his pants.

“What do you do for work?” you’re asking him, inappropriately trying to make small talk despite the fact he just made you cum with his tongue and you’re entirely exposed in front of him. You look over to the left for a second, the stunning floor to ceiling windows of his room revealing the twinkling expanse of the city at night. There’s no way this wasn’t at least a million dollar living arrangement.

“Prosecutor,” he says simply as he unzips his pants, pulling them down to reveal his boxers underneath. Your mouth gapes slightly at the bulge at the front, pulling the fabric impossibly taut, and then your jaw almost hits the floor when he pulls his length free. It jerks up from the motion, tip hitting his torso briefly before establishing itself in front of you. He was thick, long, and it was veiny just like you had guessed it would be due to the impressive veins on his hands.

He discards the clothing onto the floor, now gloriously naked, rolls the rubber down onto his length, and then he’s towering over you. His handsome face was strained as he took in the sight of your lips, tits, torso, before making eye contact with you again. You’re caged underneath him and shamelessly stare at the muscular arms that hold him up, one of them reaching in between your thighs to position himself at your center.

“Kento…” you’re preemptively moaning, before he’s even pushed himself inside, and he hums in acknowledgement of your cry.

“Still not interested in telling me what your name is, doll?” he says musingly as he slides his cock against the folds of your cunt teasingly, tip rubbing your clit. You’re already squirming under him.

“N-No…” you’re moaning out, “cause I just want you to keep calling me doll.”

The chuckle that rumbles in his throat is deep, and then his tip is right at your entrance, threatening to fill you up. He pushes his hips forward slowly, stretching you open, and your head falls back onto the pillow with a moan leaving your lips as he intrudes the most vulnerable part of you. Once the tip makes it in, the rest pushes through with less resistance due to the sheer wetness within you and he’s letting out a deep, guttural moan once he’s bottomed out. “God, you’re real fuckin’ tight, sweetheart. This is gonna be a problem for me.”

You wrap your legs around him in an attempt to draw him in closer and he’s hissing at you, pinching the flesh of your ass, causing you to moan at the pain. He lowers himself so he’s closer to you, holding himself up on his elbows, some of his tousled hair brushing against your forehead, and you can see perspiration settled around his hairline as he attempts to collect himself for a moment.

When your walls clench around his length in desperation, he thrusts forward so harshly to where your head almost slams against the headboard and you’re gasping from the pleasure. Your arms reach up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down to you so you can kiss him. “Mm…prosecutor sir, please don’t give me a concussion. I’ll sue.”

He smiles against your lips and then he’s rolling his hips, beginning to fuck you, and you let out a breathy moan as he starts to trail kisses from your mouth to your cheek, your jawline, neck. Your fingernails are lightly grazing the skin of his back, feeling every muscle move as he continues his almost sensual pace, your heart hollowing out with every retreat of his hips and your core feeling deliciously full with every thrust forward.

“Relax, doll,” he’s groaning the warning into the crook of your neck as you feel another orgasm building up, walls clenching around him tighter. “I’m not going to last very long if you…fuck…keep squeezing around me like that.” He picks up the pace, rhythmic rolling now turning into just straight up fucking as he pushes himself in and out of you like it was what he was made for.

His words only further turned you on and you’re moaning loudly, hands grabbing onto his biceps for purchase as he continues to take more and more and more from you until you’re sure he’ll leave nothing behind. Your tits bounced with every movement, bed shaking as he drilled into you. He leans away and sits up to push your legs towards your chest, putting you in a mating press, and he reaches a new level deep within you that has you gasping for air.

“Shit, I’m starting to think this…tight, wet cunt of yours…” he’s grunting between thrusts, “was made just for…me.” His chest is heaving and droplets of his salty sweat drip from his forehead onto your face, neck, tits, tummy, and you’re screaming when his thumb finds your clit and starts to draw stars on the aching bud over and over again.

“Kento, please, oh my god,” you’re whining as you feel his thrusts become sloppy, unyielding, like he was chasing after something that only the pleasure of your cunt could provide. When he tips his head back, grunting, and you see the masculine muscles of his neck stretch and flex from the movement, the string inside you is pulled tight. With one more flick of his thumb against your clit, you snap and you’re cumming around his cock, convinced you’re seeing the entire galaxy behind your eyelids.

“Fuck, fuck,” he’s groaning indulgently, pushing down your thighs to your chest even further and taking a position more directly on top of you as he slams into you, enjoying himself buried in your orgasm, and you’re screaming for mercy before watching him shake on top of you. With singular thrusts and husky moans, he’s spilling himself into the condom and then almost collapsing on top of you before holding himself up with his arms. He looks down at you with a distressed expression, breathing heavily, and you look up at him just the same. He bends down to give you a kiss, capturing your lips sensually, before leaning away and pulling himself out of you. You try not to whine from the absence of him inside.

It takes you a second to regain your breath enough to be able to speak. “I’ve never been…fucked that good…in my life,” you admit to him through huffs and puffs and with wide eyes.

He rolls the condom off of himself and sends you an amused look before getting off the bed and heading into the bathroom to dispose of it. He comes back out with a towel and then he’s sitting in between your legs to wipe at the mess of your arousal that he was responsible for. “I aim to please, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh once he’s done before he returns to the bathroom with the towel as well as all his clothes on the floor, re-emerging without them.

You’re sitting up on his bed, giving him that sooo what now? look, and he casually walks to his dresser in all his nude and muscular glory to pull out a fresh pair of boxer briefs for himself. He slips them on and turns to look at you. “You can stay the night if you’d like,” he says with a tired look on his face.

You consider it for a second then glance out into the sparkling lights of the city beyond the window of his penthouse. “If you insist,” you say.

“I didn’t really insist, I offered, but alright,” he says to you and hands you one of his shirts.

You hug the shirt to yourself, suddenly shy by how exposed you were to him, and thank him before sliding your panties back on and slipping his shirt over your head. He walks back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him this time, and you slip underneath the comforter to lay back in his bed and stare up at the ceiling. You hear the sound of water running in the sink and what sounds like an electric toothbrush, and five minutes later he’s out of the bathroom with a towel around his neck, wiping at his damp face, and still only wearing his boxers. He walks over to the other side of the bed and sits on it, the mattress sinking under his weight.

He stretches his neck from side to side while facing the window with the stunning view, letting out an exhausted sigh, and then he slips underneath the comforter. You stare at the view of his bare back facing you underneath the soft bedding and then glance up at the ceiling again. You stay impossibly still as you hear him breathe beside you. Neither of you say good night, and somewhere along the night you fall asleep.

—

You wake up the next morning with a heavy arm slung over your waist and you squint your eyes when harsh morning sunlight shines through the window of the room. Confused and disoriented, you look behind you to where a beautiful man was laid next to you, peacefully sleeping, and you jump in fear before the realization of where you were finally settled in.

“Oh, god,” you whisper to yourself, not even knowing what time it was. You spot his phone on the nightstand and tap on it to check. 7:52am. Shit, shit, shit.

Lifting his arm very gently so as not to wake him up, you slip out from underneath it and gently lay it back down onto the bed. You’re quick to find your dress on the floor and slip it back on then neatly fold his shirt and place it on his dresser. Kento shifts in his sleep slightly, now turning onto his back, and you freeze at the movement but when he doesn’t open his eyes, you continue to tiptoe over to where your purse was. Making sure you had all your belongings, you wander out of his room to find the front door.

In the light of day, you had a better look at the interior of the place. The kitchen was gorgeous, sleek and modern, and natural lighting filtered through the expansive windows into the living room area with furniture that you most definitely could not afford. There was even a pool table off to the side. Remembering that you have absolutely no time to inspect this man’s catalog-level home decor, you head over to the main door and make your exit, leaning back against it once you’re outside. You find yourself standing in a luxurious room with marble flooring and a gaudy chandelier hanging from the ceiling. You walk over to where the elevator was and press the down button.

Making it into the lobby of the apartment complex, you walked around the lounge furniture and dodged meandering people before making it through the revolving doors and finally out into civilization. Cars were honking on the streets along with other ambient city noises that fully roused you from last night’s afterglow. You immediately call for a cab and when one pulls up for you, you’re quick to make your way into the backseat.

“Destination, ma’am?” The driver asks you as he fidgets with his GPS screen.

“Tokai Hospital, please,” you say to the man, your heart beating fast from anxiety, “as fast as you can.” He’s nodding and then pulling the car away from the curb.

By the time you make it to the hospital, it’s already 8:26am, twenty-six minutes over the start of your shift, and you’re running through the doors of the hospital and down the lobby until you reach the hallway that leads to the stairways. A few of your colleagues saw you wearing your ridiculously short dress, letting out a few cooing whistles, before you made it to the scrub station room and input four quarters into the machine. After it throws out a scrub top and some matching pants, you rush into a bathroom stall and pull them on, then freshen yourself up a bit at the sink with a few of your emergency travel products in your purse.

You make it upstairs just in time for roll call and join the group of residents huddled around the doctor’s station in the middle of the floor.

“Alright! Listen up, last night’s emergency medicine residents are here to debrief their admits,” the chief yells out and practically all of your fellow residents take out small spiral notebooks from their white coats in preparation to scribble down information.

Your friend Miwa nudges you with her elbow. “Where were you? You’re late,” she’s whispering at your side.

You sigh, sneaking around her to grab your white coat from one of the chairs where you had left it during your last shift and then slipping it on. “Went to the bar last night. I was…hungover,” you lie to her. You weren’t actually hungover, probably because hot prosecutor fucked you so good it put your ass to sleep and you woke up feeling euphoric instead, but you weren’t going to admit that to Miwa.

“Hungover before a 24-hour on-call shift?” another one of your fellow residents, Choso, murmurs to you with a disapproving look on his face.

“Oh my god, I get it, I’m a mess,” you harshly whisper. “Leave me alone.”

“Alright! That’s all. Please check-in with your assigned attending for your specific cases. We start rounds in ten minutes, so you all better be wide awake by then,” the chief yells out before he dismisses himself off into the halls.

All the residents begin to disperse, making their ways over to their assigned attending doctors who all had annoyed expressions on their faces as they try to put orders into their computers quickly before inevitably being bothered. You, Miwa, Choso and four other residents make your way to Dr. Hara’s corner of the station.

“Yes, yes, my residents,” she’s sighing as she clicks away at her computer screen. The seven of you peer over the open cubicle dividers at her. “We’ve only got four admits from last night, so we’ll just be checking up on them. Hana, Kamo, if you two don’t put those damn notebooks away, I’ll personally throw them into the trash. Try to store info in your brain for this shift.” She steps up from her desk and exits the station, hands in the pockets of her white coat, and the seven of you follow behind her like ducklings as she walks down the hall.

“She’s in a bad mood today,” Choso’s commenting next to you.

“I heard her divorce just got finalized,” Miwa whispers from behind.

“That’ll explain it,” you sigh, glancing into the rooms of patients as the group of you head down the hall.

“So, that one case that the emergency residents just finished briefing,” Dr. Hara is calling from ahead, “the 56 year old man with past medical history of COPD & metastatic lung cancer, social history of smoking for eleven years, presenting with shortness of breath. Became acutely hypoxic upon arrival. Impressions? Plan for care? Admission status? Anyone?” She looks over her shoulders to the group of you trailing behind her, a bored expression on her face.

One of the other residents speaks up. “Possible admit if his O2 saturation doesn’t increase in the ED.”

“Definite admit,” you speak up after her.

“Yes, correct, definite admit,” Dr. Hara confirms, “even if his O2 sat increases sufficiently, a history of COPD with a chief complaint of shortness of breath is major cause for concern, especially given the prior lung cancer diagnosis. You don’t want to discharge that patient, unless you’re looking to lose your medical license.”

A couple of the other residents turn to look at you wearily and mutter something like show-off and suck-up and you’re sending them annoyed looks.

“Dr. Kamiya, good to see you. Hope your shift went well last night,” Dr. Hara greets the man who just exited one of the patients’ rooms and was pulling gloves off of his hands before flinging them into the trash can.

Dr. Kamiya stands up straight once he sees all the residents trailing behind and he searches the crowd intently, eyes landing on you. The corner of his mouth lifts up in a smirk and you look away from him, unable to hide to scowl on your face. “Thanks, Dr. Hara. It went well. Are these your residents for today?”

“Yeah. If you could debrief the case to them, please,” Dr. Hara says as she puts on a pair of her own gloves and makes her way into the patient’s room, the tone of her voice sounding instantly polite as she greets the patient’s family before closing the door behind her.

You and the rest of the residents now stood at the end of the hallway and anticipating eyes were on the man that stood ahead. You’re tapping your foot impatiently and crossing your arms across your chest. Miwa and Choso send knowing glances at each other in your periphery and shake their heads slightly.

Dr. Kamiya finishes debriefing the case to you all while a few of the other residents ask eager questions to get some brownie points from him, and then he makes his way over to you after the group starts to disperse.

“Hello, Dr. l/n, you’re looking rough today. Didn’t get enough beauty sleep last night?” He leans towards you with a smirk on his face, hands shoved into the pockets of his scrubs. Miwa and Choso stood a step behind you and you could feel their eyes on you as they watched the interaction, almost as if to chaperone.

“I got enough sleep, jackass. I’m looking rough because I got dicked down real good last night,” you sneer at the man, unfaltering in your tone, and looking him dead in the eyes. Miwa’s gasping behind you and you hear Choso hold back a laugh. Dr. Kamiya’s eyes widen at the tone before he returns your scowl with one of his own.

“Better keep it professional in here, kid. We’re in a hospital,” he derides with a twitch of his eye.

You scoff and look off to the side in annoyance, tongue poking the inside of your cheek, before looking at him again with arms still crossed at your chest. “Be professional? You certainly weren’t being professional when I caught you fucking one of the nurses in the storage closet a couple months ago. Oh, right, while we were still dating.” Every single word was dripping with venom.

Dr. Kamiya looks around himself in panic before grabbing at your arm and pulling you over to the side, away from peering eyes. “Would you keep your voice down?” He’s hissing at you, the grip on your arm starting to hurt.

You yank away from him. “Why? It’s not like it fucking matters. You’re not going to get fired since your daddy owns this goddamn hospital. You’ve never had to face a single consequence in your entire life.” With clenched fists, you storm away and over towards the residents station. You hear his angry footsteps following behind and he’s grabbing at your arm again, this time making a display in front of the residents as well as a few of the nurses on this side of the floor.

“The only reason you’re here is because I allow it, okay? If you want to have an attitude with me, go find a different residency to be a bitch in,” he says to you through gritted teeth.

You hear a couple of the nurses gasp behind you and a few of the residents whisper. Not even caring who was in earshot anymore, you shrug your arm from his grip and then glare at the man in front of you, poking his chest with a rough jab of your finger. He looked so disturbed and pathetic, boasting about his father’s estate that he had absolutely no part in building, and then had the audacity to imply that the only reason you’ve been accepted into a prestigious residency is because of your connection to him. “I couldn’t even pretend to like you, even if it cost me my career.” This seems to sober up his anger for a second as he leans away from you and takes in the sight of other staff members staring at him. “And you better watch your back, Dr. Kamiya. One of these days, I just might shove something through it.” You’re harshly whispering this so that maybe only him, you and a couple of the people behind you could hear it.

You turn around and head into the residents station. A few of the nurses are sighing at you, shaking their heads like they’re used to the commotion, while a few are pleased since Dr. Kamiya was hardly liked by any of the other staff here anyways. You hear him let out a disgruntled noise behind you and you see him retreating down the hallway in the corner of your eye.

“Good for you, girl,” one of the nurses says to you as you take a seat in front of one of the computers and type your password in. You mutter something under your breath, not coherent enough for even you to understand, before inputting orders into the system. Miwa, Choso and a few of the other residents take their seats at some of the other computers and get to work as well.

The day part of the shift goes by fast since there’s a lot of work to do in interviewing the newly admitted patients and getting caught up on charting. It felt like only an hour had passed when you glanced at the clock and realized that it was already 8PM and the sun had set outside.

Your mind wanders to last night with the hot prosecutor, your senses immediately recalling his deep voice, his head between your thighs, his cock stuffed inside you, his mouth trailing kisses on your neck. You sigh dreamily, crossing your legs underneath the desk from the arousal building up inside of you, and you realize that you never did end up telling him your name. If it were any other morning and you weren’t in a rush to leave for work, you’d have stayed right there in that bed with him, waiting for him to wake up. You’d push your ass against his crotch, pretending to be all innocent with it, until he’s hard against you and pulls your panties to the side to wordlessly start fucking you. God, he would so be the type to do something like that, definitely a morning sex type of man. You tip your head to the side as you stare at your computer screen blankly, dreaming of what it would feel like to have him take you raw, the feeling of every pulsing vein inside you before he cums inside, thick and hot.

You shake your head, cheeks feeling flushed as you remember that you’re at work. You leave the residents station, glancing over at a very tired-looking Miwa and Choso in front of their computers, and decide to make a couple of rounds on your patients. You’re about to head back to your desk when you run into another one of your attendings, Dr. Sera, in the hallway.

“Ah, Dr. l/n, it’s nice to see you,” she greets you, “feeling bored?”

You let out a laugh. “A little bit.”

Right as you say that, the Code Blue lights start flashing and you hear the alarm over the intercom as well. Dr. Sera and you look at each other with wide eyes before hearing that the Code was for the PICU. Typically at night, internal medicine residents such as yourself are to assist the staff for Code Blue calls in the PICU, and so you head back to your desk in a hurry and grab your stethoscope.

“Are you going to take it?” Choso’s asking you, his head perked up at his desk and now seemingly very awake.

“Yeah, I will, can you put in an order for tramadol for Bed 336 for me, please?” you ask him and he nods, then you’re taking the stairs down to the second floor.

The Code took about fifteen minutes after four rounds of CPR, successfully stabilizing a 3-year-old girl who had drowned last night and was in a coma after going unresponsive earlier during last night’s shift. By the time you got back to your desk upstairs, you were entirely emotionally drained. Although relieved that the little girl persevered through the compressions, there was no telling what her brain function would be once she woke up.

Dr. Hara approaches you once she sees that you’ve come back upstairs. “Hey, how’d the Code go?”

“It was fine. Patient is stable,” you tell her simply and log yourself into your computer again. When you glance at the time, it was 1:13am, and exhaustion hits you. You still have a good seven hours of your shift left, and that Code Blue sucked a lot of the life out of you.

Dr. Hara is sighing at your side. “Why don’t you take a break? The others have been taking turns with naps in the on-call room, I think you could benefit from that. Or maybe step outside to get some air, or some food. I’m sure there are 24/7 restaurants nearby.”

You look up at Dr. Hara pensively. “Are you sure? I’m on-call, supposed to stay onsite.”

She nods. “I’ll allow it this time. Don’t go too far if you do leave, though, and don’t be gone for longer than an hour.” And then she walks away.

There are a few moments in everyone’s life that have the power to determine their whole fate, but the unfortunate truth to this universal fact is that a person will never know which decisions hold that weight. In hindsight, you would’ve told yourself at this moment to not leave the hospital. No matter the distress you were under from Code Blue or the physical exhaustion from the long hours spent on your shift, you should just retreat to the on-call room and take a nap like the other residents. If that was all you did in this moment, the fate of your life would end up being much more comfortable than the hell that was to follow.

But instead of doing that, you head out into the darkness to your car. You drive down to that secluded food truck in the middle of nowhere, and of course you pay with cash because they don’t accept card. You find it odd that the young man working there doesn’t lift his gaze from his phone even once as he hands you your food and takes your cash, and there’s a curious thought in your mind that makes you realize no one would’ve even known you were here. The haziness of your whereabouts is further worsened when you drive down a secluded road with no CCTV cameras to capture the proof, just for the sake of avoiding that one tricky intersection on the main road. There was a point throughout the night where you could’ve saved yourself from suspicion, but all hope is lost when you eat your food in your car in a dark parking lot near a grassy field and toss your trash into the one bin in front of the bushes. Before you make it back to work, you get a call from your apartment neighbor at 2:36am which would end up being the exact minute that would haunt you for the rest of your life, because you decide to not pick up the call. And then you head back to the hospital.

The rest of the shift finished swiftly, and at 8am you’re leaving the hospital into bright morning air. You pull your phone from your pocket, scroll through your contacts before clicking on one and pressing call.

“Yes, how is my sweet little girl doing?” a voice coos on the other line.

You roll your eyes. “Mom, I’m a doctor now, I’m a big girl with big responsibilities.” You politely smile at some of the familiar doctors you walk past as you cut your way across the ambulance lane into the parking lot.

You hear your mother sigh. “I know, your father and I are so proud of you, dear. Words can’t even explain. Oh, here he is, he wants to talk.” There’s shuffling on the other line and then your father is screaming in your ear. “My little girl! My doctor daughter! How many lives did you save?”

You sigh with a smile on your face as you make it to your car, pressing on the car key to unlock it before opening the driver’s side door and throwing your purse inside. “Not sure, Dad. Hard to say with internal medicine, but at least no one died on my watch last night.” You sit inside your car and turn on the engine, relishing in the warmth of the heater. “I’ve gotta go, just wanted to say hi before I crash in bed for the rest of the day.” They exchange some sweet goodbyes to you and then you’re hanging up to head home.

The drive only takes five minutes. The apartment was pricey, but it was worth having one so close by for the sole purpose of a short drive following 24-hour shifts. You park your car, rush to the elevator, click the up button, make it to the sixth floor, lightly jog down the hall with the last remaining energy you have left, and then when you make it to your apartment door, you push your key through the keyhole and turn.

Huh? It’s unlocked. There was no way you didn’t lock it before leaving the house.

You hesitantly twist the doorknob, realizing that it was indeed unlocked this whole time, and the second you step inside the room you can feel it in the air of your apartment that something was horribly wrong.

But it’s only when you see a lifeless body on the floor, right in front of your doorway entrance, surrounded by a pool of blood, that a chill strong enough to shatter your bones runs through you.

You were in hell.

-------

𝖺/𝗇. 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗀𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖾 <𝟥