Douma Harem + Douma Oneshots

☆Douma x Akaza☆ (Part Two)

A/N: guess who's back?

Douma was practically screaming now, strangled cries emerging from his throat and vibrating around the small room. Akaza had an expression of glee on his face, no doubt from the pain he was causing Douma and the pleasure he was feeling.

"F-fuck!" Yelled Douma, who was now seeing stars in his vision. "That..!"

"That what, slut?" Purred Akaza (A/N: meow), drenched in sweat and smirking as if he'd found seven Marachis. He quickened his pace, somehow pounding against Douma's prostate harder than he already had been. 

Douma didn't answer, instead just moaned again. His silver hair had come undone from the usual plait, and it was spread across his back in shining waves. He shook slightly, still trying to both rapidly adjust to the foreign feeling of pleasure and the familiar feeling of pain.

The sound of skin against skin and lustful sounds filled the room, temperature rising from the heated body of the two overstimulated demons. There was no gentle kissing, no preparation, just rough sex. And of course, the endless cursing from Douma and degrading comments from Akaza. 

"I'm- fuck, I'm gonna cum-" Akaza gritted his teeth, feeling himself finally release into the demon below him, who grunted at the sensation of being filled with the pale sticky fluid. 

Almost instantly after, Akaza pulled out of Douma, not wanting to be inside him any longer.

"Clean yourself up, dickhead." Snarled the striped demon, who rolled onto his side on the - now slightly sticky - bed and closed his eyes. Bare moments later, he'd fallen asleep, a heavily alcohol induced sleep no doubt.

He looked peaceful asleep, Akaza. Forehead free of the nearly permanent scowl that adorned his face when he was awake, and a relaxed and almost contented expression on his face. If only Douma got to see that side of him more often. But alas, the dreams of sinners are not meant to be fulfilled.

Douma hated the fact he was sweaty, and all sticky from the cum, but there was little he could do about it, as his legs were beginning to ache. He would clean himself in the morning, he was sure his legs would have marginally recovered by then. He didn't move any closer to Akaza, an unsaid and unseen border separating them. He curled up at the other end of the bed, deciding not to sleep on the floor. 

Surely the two of them wouldn't regret it when they woke up, right?