Archive of Our Own

Their first album is not going like it should.

There are so many stakes on their first. Weren’t they just talking yesterday about how many bands had expired on this hill, never making it out of mediocre anonymity?

It’s exciting. it’s a milestone. It’s their first, and that makes it absolutely nerve-wracking.

Kita feels the fear like a noose around her throat. There’s more than a couple mishaps on that one song with that one chorus she can never play perfectly. A touch too early, then a touch too late. A muted note, then two, then a dozen – it’s barely passable. 

Passable. Passable compared to the ever-incredible Hitori and Ryo, who, despite putting on their usual antics, aced their parts on the second try. Kita watches them, idolizes them, as they play riffs with a practiced ease she could only dream of. They grapple with compositions requiring more dexterity and technique than feasible for her, their singing notes a materialization of years of hard work. 

It’s no wonder they don’t notice. 

“Hey, Hitori. Do you remember our first sleepover?” Kita asks out of the blue.

Her eyes don’t leave Nijika’s agitated form, a simulacrum of her usual composed self. Though she finished the recording, it looks like it’s going to be scrapped. Unsteady tempo, shaky control – Kita gets why Nijika lingers on the drum throne for a while before slowly exiting.

Kita doesn’t know much about music. She’s been playing for a year – she’s learning fast, she’s learning well, but her improvement burns nary a candle in comparison to their almost frenetic performance, built on multiple years of practice.

But musical struggle is always fresh in her mind.

“Hmm? When we were shooting the MV?”

“That’s it.”

“Okay…” Hitori trails off tentatively, unsure of what to say.

“Why did you let me stay over, Hitori?”



“Eh? Was I not supposed to? I’m sorr-”

“That’s not it. Did you know it was going to help me, or did you just follow along?”

Realization dawns in Hitori’s eyes. She glances over at Nijika, who’s made her way across the room to talk to the sound engineer. 

“Ah, just a little bit? I could understand wanting to relate with the lyrics. But it’s more like… it just felt right? Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. I suppose it does, thank you.”

“A-are you going to help her?” Hitori asks tentatively, turning her attention back to their drummer.

Kita knows about Nijika’s struggle. How could she not, when she went through the exact same thing? She recalls the depths that desperation led her to – fruitless all-nighters, vain practice sessions, teeth-grinding frustration. 

A two-hour train ride to the one person who could help, and salvation. 

“Of course.”

Nijika opens the door to the lobby, where they’re all waiting. Just as quickly, she gathers her things and leans against the front door. 

“That’s it for this recording session. Good work, everyone!”

Nijika raises her hands to start a round of applause, as she often does, and they all follow suit. 

“Anyways, I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll be less nervous then! Haha…” 

The statement ends in a laugh, as if it were a promise of improvement. Nijika leaves without another word.

“Eh, Nijika? Wait–” Hitori starts, but Kita is faster.

“See you, Hitori! Bye, Ryo!” Kita calls as she follows suit.

Nijika’s further ahead – she’s walking quickly, and that means Kita almost has to run to catch up. But she does, and she grabs Nijika’s swinging hand.

“Hmm?” Nijika seems startled. “What’s up, Kita?”

“Stay over at my place today!”

“Today? Seriously? Just like that?”

“Why would I be joking?” Kita says, feigning ignorance. “It’s not too hard to make a meal for two, and you can borrow my clothes. I can plan everything out! All you have to do is sit back and relax. Besides, I’ve been pretty lonely recently! We can do a whole bunch of things!”

“Ah, Kita, I’m not really in the best mood today, so…”



“That’s why it has to be today!”

Nijika’s mouth forms a circle, before shifting into a genuine smile – maybe the first she’s made in hours.

“Ah,” Nijika says, beaming. “Kita is a good girl, isn’t she? Well then, I guess I have no choice. Lead the way!”

Kita finds that she’s still holding Nijika’s left hand, so with an extravagant flair, she swings their interlocked fingers wildly. Nijika giggles at this, so really, she has no choice but to continue frivolously throughout the streets and all the way to her house.

Nijika is really bad at “sitting back and relaxing”, Kita finds.

First, it was the cooking. Though Kita insisted on treating her, Nijika couldn’t help but offer her two cents. It started with a tip about stir fry, then insistence that she should “also be allowed to dice the veggies, right? It’s only fair!” 

A few more persuasions and voilà, a nice noodle stir fry à la Nijika. Admittedly, it was nicer than Kita’s own cooking, but hey, cut a girl some slack. She’s never had to cook before – not until her parents spontaneously decided to visit Taiwan two weeks ago. Your cooking would suck too! 

Anyways, that’s besides the point. Nijika sucks at loosening up.

Then, it was the clothes. Kita rummaged through her drawers to find the perfect set of soft pajamas for Nijika. Only the best, after all. Unfortunately, Nijika decided that she should fold any strewn clothes back into the drawer, plus a few more that Kita was certain was her mess and not Nijika’s.

The final straw was when Nijika started mopping her floor, at which point Kita shoved Nijika on her bed, told her to “sit neatly and stop moving so much!” and left to get a few things to keep her in check.

When she came back, she found that Nijika actually did listen to her instruction, which boded well. She joined Nijika on her bed, dropping the fetched accessories between them.

Kita had been blushing since re-entering the room – an absolutely valid reaction, thank you very much. So had a slack-jawed Nijika, since Kita brought them out. 

A moment of silence. Then two. Kita will not be the first to break it, though she fidgets restlessly. She’s just about to justify herself to break the awkward silence when–

“Kita, when you said we could do a whole bunch of fun things, I wasn’t exactly picturing…” Nijika gestures vaguely towards the choker and leash, her face turning red. “Well, this…” 

“Do you not like it? I have a couple other chokers, if you’d want to try them on. This one has the nicest material, though I usually don’t try it on with a leash. It looks good with a black fit, though.”

Kita tries to ignore the heat on her face. It’s embarrassing for her as well, okay?



“We could do other things? Like talk! We can talk about crushes and all that, right? Isn’t that more norm–”

“No. Put on the choker first, then we can talk.”



“Listen, Kita. I get that you’re a little upset that I helped with the cooking, okay! I’ll relax! We don’t need to… well…” Nijika was turning an impressive shade of crimson.

“Choker. On.”

“Kita…”

Kita simply continued to point at the choker.

Miraculously, Nijika sighs and puts it on. The leash dangles awkwardly from behind her neck.

Kita grins. 

“It’s a little tight…” Nijika complains, fidgeting and tugging at the material to loosen it up. 

“Good girl, Nijika! Come here for belly rubs and hugs!! I’m all yours,” Kita says as she spreads her arms wide open, embarrassment replaced with delighted amusement. 

Kita entirely expects Nijika to shoot her a dirty look, before going “Oh well, worth a try”. Unexpectedly, though, Nijika rolls her eyes and shuffles over, throwing her still burning face into Kita’s shoulder and arms around her midriff. 

“Nijika?”

“Shut up.”

Kita happily obliges, because she might say something incredibly embarrassing. Instead, she wraps her arms around Nijika, and takes her warmth in – the unfamiliar weight and shape on her chest, the very familiar yellow hair in her vision. Her arms rest slightly above Nijika’s arms and interlace around her back.

Five seconds pass, then fifteen, then thirty, lost in the quiet moment. Kita doesn’t know if she’s ever held Nijika before, let alone for this long. 

She feels Nijika squeeze her tighter before nuzzling into the crook between her neck and shoulder – an awkward, ticklish tingle. She’s glad it doesn’t cause her to giggle, especially because she feels a wet sensation on her neck immediately after.

Is she crying?

“Nijika?”

“S-sorry…” Nijika sniffles.

How do you comfort a crying girl? Kita has no idea. She starts to hum and rock Nijika  back and forth as if she were a small child – somehow, it does the trick. Slowly but surely, Nijika’s shoulders untense, and she feels more moldable putty than human by the end of it all.

As the minutes pass, Kita’s free hands roam Nijika’s hair, feeling the individual strands, letting them slip through her fingers, busying herself with undoing the occasional tangle. It’s incredibly silky, and Kita can smell her lavender shampoo on it. She lifts up a large bunch of her hair, from the neck, as if to tie a ponytail, and feels the choker hitch against her thumb as she does so. She idly fiddles with the leash as well. It really is a nice material – velvet and cotton garment and suited for Nijika’s delicate skin.

After a while, Nijika pushes herself gently from Kita. Her normally sharp eyes are puffy, her nose is red and her lips are quivering – despite that, she’s absolutely beautiful .

“I-I‘m sorry, Kita. Your shirt…” Nijika says after a long moment, red-faced. 

Kita only smiles in reassurance and pulls Nijika back into her embrace. This time, no resistance met her hands.

She tucks loose golden strands of hair behind Nijika’s ear, and gently whispers, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really.”

“You should. That’s what you’re here for.”

“You dragged me here to manipulate me and make me soft, didn’t you?” Nijika asks, grumbling.

Kita chuckles. “Something like that,” she murmurs surreptitiously and winks, as if sharing a great secret.

Comfortable silence, as they let another moment pass by. Nijika looks great in her pajamas, Kita notes.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been hugged,” Nijika admits. The words are muffled against Kita’s neck.

Kita mumbles an “Mmm.” in acknowledgement, her throat purring against Nijika’s rested head. 

Nijika’s hair falls forwards ever so slightly in the silence, and Kita uses her right hand to comb it back neatly.

“Seika doesn’t really show affection like that, and neither does Ryo. I guess I’ve just…”

“Mhm.”

“It’s been a tough week.”



“Yeah.” Kita is perfectly fine with letting Nijika do all the venting.

“I-” Nijika pauses, stiffening for a moment before the tension releases with an exhale. “I’m not really used to opening up like this? Sorry…”

“That’s okay. You did your best. Good girl.”

Nijika shivers, and for some reason, Kita feels a thrill go down her spine as well.

“Oh,” Nijika whispers. “I liked that.”

Kita swallows. For some reason, that makes her feel wild.

They settle into another comfortable silence. Kita is in the middle of a pathetic attempt at braiding Nijika’s hair a little to the side when she accidentally pulls against the leash.

Nijika trembles again. It gives her an idea.

“You know what might help?” Kita says, turning over the leash in her hand.

Nijika stares up at her, uncomprehending for a moment, before she sees what Kita’s fiddling with.

“No. Absolutely not. There’s no way.”

“Unironically, it really could help.”

“No.”

“You need to relax more.”

“I’m not going to let you treat me like a dog to relax!” Nijika exclaims, untangling herself from Kita’s arms and shuffling over to the other side. The leash goes taut when she gets about two arm lengths away, much to her chagrin. “What makes you think I need to relax anyways?”

“You’re more like a cat, to be honest.” Kita replies, smiling at the thought.

“Like that makes a difference! And don’t try and distract me – answer my question!”

Kita tugs firmly on her end of the leash. Nijika, not expecting to be pulled, falls face-first unceremoniously in front of her.

“Whoa?! Wait, Kit–” She starts, but Kita is already bending over to cup Nijika’s face gently with her free hand, applying the smallest of pressures to tilting her chin ever so slightly upwards. Their eyes lock – those puffy vermilion eyes face into olive. Her thumb follow the dried tear tracks that trace around the edges of Nijika’s mouth.

“Wait? Wait! Wait–huh?”

“Don’t you feel tired, sometimes?” Kita asks gently, thumb pressing on Nijika’s bottom lip. She doesn’t miss the sharp intake of air Nijika makes as she slowly sweeps her thumb from left to right.

“Wh– Kita, we are not doing this.”

“It must be so hard to be responsible, isn’t it?” Kita whispers, ignoring her protests entirely, enunciating every syllable carefully.

“ Stop. I-I’m not like that.”

“It’s so hard to be so in control all the time, isn’t it, Nijika? Always doing schoolwork, keeping everyone in check, then coming home and doing all the chores. Even at my house, you work.”

“I- Wait. Kita. Kita,” Nijika says breathlessly.

“Why don’t you let me tell you what to do for once?”

“Kita,” Nijika whines. There's something else than soft refusal in there.



“Just follow my orders. Can you do that for me?”

Nijika stares at her. Kita continues to trace her lips.



“Can you do that for me, baby?”

For a second, Kita thinks she might have misjudged Nijika, but–

She thinks she might have misjudged Nijika, but then the girl gives her a meek nod, and she has all the consent she needs.

“Good girl. Tell me about your day,” she orders. They haven’t moved at all– Nijika lies flat, Kita hovers over her, one hand pulling against the leash until the collar bites into the back of her neck. The other is placed under Nijika’s chin, still lifting her drummer’s gaze to match hers.

“It was hard…” Nijika says, but she trails off. Seems like Kita will have to do some more work.

“More,” Kita demands, tugging the leash harder.

“I couldn’t get the tempo right at all,” Nijika says, looking devastated by even admitting it. “I would drum too fast, then too slow…”

“Good girl.” 

Nijika jerks her head in response, a facsimile of a nod. Kita continues.

“Why do you think you have to be perfect?”



“I don’t.”

Kita only winds the leash around her hand in response.

“Ah– wait? Hold– Hold on,” Nijika protests.

“Hmm?” Kita asks expectantly.

“I– it’s my dream, I guess. To see Starry be successful.”

“It’s a beautiful dream, Nijika. But we all share it too. So why do you think you have to be perfect?”

“I-”

“Overreacting to every small mistake like it’s going to break you. You can’t always be on time, but you try so hard. Nijika is a good girl, isn’t she?”

“Ah- Y-yes?” Nijika says, rubbing her collared neck in embarrassment.

“But you’ve been a bad girl recently, ignoring your bandmates.”

“Wh-” Nijika starts. “Wait, no I don’t!”

Kita tugs again, as if to nudge Nijika’s thoughts in the right direction. A soft gasp escapes Nijika’s mouth as she does so – Kita feels it blow against her thumb.

“But you do. You don’t realize we’re here to help you,” Kita presses on. “So you don’t have to be perfect. We’ve got your back, from practice to albums to concerts. I’ve got your back. Get it?”

Nijika fidgets uncomfortably while nodding, but Kita still has her rapt attention.

“Good girl. We don’t want to put pressure on you, you know? You don’t let us down at all, even when your drumming isn’t perfect. It doesn’t need to be. Because you’re perfect, and it’s not based on how well you do.”

“Kita. This is so cheesy,” Nijika whines.

“Nijika,” Kita replies, in the same tone. “Baby. You need to get it.”

“I do!”

“No, you don’t. Maybe conceptually, maybe when you think about it, you realize we do.”

“That’s what getting it means,” Nijika protests.

“But it’s not your first instinct, you know? That’s not really getting it. I want you to rely on me. Let me show you how nice it can be to give in.”

Nijika whimpers – an odd mewl escaping her lips – but she doesn’t shift away.

“You poor girl. You feel the weight of our dreams on your shoulders. There’s always so much riding on you. At least for today, give up control. You don’t always have to be strong.”

There’s something indescribable in Nijika’s eyes – something that only Kita, at this moment, is allowed to see. The secrecy of it all has her feeling intensely happy.

“Today, I have you,” Kita says forcefully. “Forget about Seika, forget about the band, forget about what you want to do. Learn to give up control. Today, you’re mine. Understand?”

“I-I understand.”

“Say it with me,” Kita commands. “‘Today, I’m just a pet.’”

“… Today, I’m just a pet.”

“‘And after today, I can be a pet whenever I want.’”

“And… and after today, I can be a pet whenever I want.”

Kita revels at Nijika’s echo. It brings out a whole range of emotions – pride, satisfaction, embarrassment, longing. A need to keep going.

“‘So there’s no need to shoulder everything. No need to be so precise all the time, because Kita is here for me.’”

“Kita, we’re not doing affirmations…”

“Say it.” Kita’s tone leaves no room for error.

“…So there’s no need to shoulder everything. No need to be so precise all the time, because Kita is here for me,” Nijika parrots sheepishly. 

“A-are we done here?” Nijika whines, when no reply comes from Kita. Finally getting off her stomach, she sits upright, facing Kita. It’s clearly embarrassing for her, but the same applies for Kita – the blushes creeping on their faces speak for themselves. 

“Good girl,” Kita says regardless, leaning over to scratch behind Nijika’s ears. She shivers in response. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Nijika moves to speak, but she’s interrupted by Kita placing an index and middle finger in her open mouth. 

It’s an odd, wet sensation. Nijika’s tongue squirms around underneath her digits.

“Tut tut tut. Pets don’t talk back, do they?”

Nijika seems absolutely stunned – delicate, sloppy lips close around Kita’s fingers, then pause. 

“Do they?” Kita insists.

More silence. Then, Nijika shakes her head slowly, much to Kita’s delight.

“Good girl. You’ve been so good for me, baby,” She coos as she pries open Nijika’s jaw, pushing down on her tongue with her index and middle fingers.  

Nijika whines softly with unfocused eyes as she feels the pressure. Kita holds her gaze patiently. Beads of saliva drips down her fingers, sliding to her wrist and forearm, but she finds that she doesn’t mind at all.

Actually, she’s rather thrilled, looking at how pathetic Nijika is for her.

Kita takes her fingers out from her mouth, to noises of complaint – more mewls than words, but Kita quickly puts that to rest.

“Hush. Do you want me to kiss you?”

Nijika’s eyes widen ever so slightly. Then, seeing that Kita expects an answer, she barely nods, a nigh imperceptible twitch up and down.

“Are you sure?”



A more energetic bobbing this time, but anything would be more energetic than her last nod. It’s not enough.

“Prove it. Purr for me.”

Kita didn’t mean to lean into the pet play this hard, but she finds that she enjoys it, gets a thrill from it, feels something welling inside of her.

And evidently, so does Nijika, who makes a rattling hum with her throat.

“Good girl.”

Kita dries her fingers off around Nijika’s neck, right under the collar, before using it to pull the girl into a kiss – sloppy, rushed, imperfect, and maybe the tear tracks haven’t really dried at all, but that’s okay. 

It’s exactly what she wanted.

Nijika’s puffy eyes close as she lets Kita direct the kiss. Kita’s fingers hitch on the collar and yank her closer – Nijika lands on top of Kita again, wrapped in a familiar embrace. Kita parts from her. 

“Stick out your tongue,” she says.

Nijika’s eyes widen. It’s too embarrassing. 

“You don’t get to decide, baby,” Kita coos, “Be a darling and stick out your tongue for me.”

Nijika whimpers and feels her neck burn. She hesitates until Kita shakes her head and gently presses her hand against her shoulder, and she’s being slowly pushed until her back hits the bedpost. Kita cages her with her arms. 

“Open.”

She does as she’s told, and is rewarded with a dark smile from Kita. She feels stupid as Kita regards her evenly and squirms when Kita sets her thumb on her tongue and pushes down. She muffles a groan as nails dig into the flesh hard enough to sting. 

“Good girl, just relax.” Kita says, and opens her mouth to roll out her long tongue. Nijika fixates on it, her breath quickening. Kita presses closer until they’re nose to nose. 

Kita takes off her thumb and presses their tongues together, licking up into her mouth and back down, and Nijika whines, high and pathetic. Delicate hands twirl with her leash and put just the slightest pressure against her neck and collar, tugging her forward. Kita closes her mouth around Nijika’s tongue and sucks, one hand coming up to hold open her jaw and pry it down, and she feels the way Kita’s tongue brushes over the tip of hers over and over. 

When Kita pulls back, her eyes are dark and she licks her lips and smiles, teeth flashing. “Beautiful girl. You look like a mess for me.” 

Nijika shivers at those words. She has her tongue out, saliva dripping at the tip and pooling in her mouth. She’s drooling down her chin. Kita leans in and pecks her tongue and giggles. Nijika can feel even her breathing grazing her sensitive tongue. 

Without waiting, Kita kisses her again. She’s ravenous and wild and licks into her mouth. She swallows every moan, every stuttered breath, every whine until Nijika is quivering in her arms. When Nijika pulls away for air, head knocking against the bedpost, Kita bears down and pulls her up by the collar. She can’t breathe. She can’t move. She’s choking on her tongue and the way Kita caresses every inch of her mouth, legs shaking. She’s panting, arms tightening around Kita as the girl sucks hard on her tongue. She whimpers, higher and higher. 

Kita, for her part, is going crazy. Nijika is so cute. She adores every shiver, every whine, every half choked moan. She cradles the girl in her arms and kisses her again and again until she’s a blubbering mess. She feels Nijka’s hands tighten around her back and slips her thigh in between Nijika’s legs, nearly grinning when she feels Nijika grind down needily. 

Nijika freezes, and then she keens, pulling Kita in roughly and pushing their bodies together. Her kisses become frantic, but Kita is steady in response. Kita kisses until Nijika relaxes in her arms. Finally, she pulls back and smiles smugly at how out of it and utterly ruined Nijika looks, her hot mouth open, her puffy lips, the glazed kiss-drunk look in her eye and drool slobbering down her chin. 

“You look so pathetic right now,” Kita says, delighted. Nijika clenches at those words. “Good girl, you were so good for me.” 

Nijika works her jaw to try to speak, but Kita hushes her with a finger. She says gently, “Pets don’t talk without their owner’s permission.”

Vacantly, Nijika nods. 

Kita pets the frayed parts of Nijika’s hair. She gently smooths them down and slides her hand over to cup Nijika’s face, waiting patiently for the girl’s breathing to even out. When it does, she smiles and says, enunciating every word, “I’m going to fuck you, okay pet?”

Nijika nods.

“I’m going to do whatever I want to you and you’re going to be a good girl for me and take it, understand?” 

Slowly, Nijika nods again.

“I want you to say it for me, darling.” Kita twirls the leash around her fingers. 

Nijika blinks blearily, slowly coming back to herself. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

Kita caresses her face. “What is it? Tell me with words.”

Nijika looks away, face flushing. 

“Darling, we’ve been over this,” Kita says. She tugs Nijika’s leash and watches the girl jerk forward with a squeak, toppling into her. She wraps her arms around her, trapping her. She’s about to repeat her command when Nijika mumbles something in her ear that makes her freeze, a jolt of want shooting through her. 

“W-what did you just say?” Kita whispers. She swallows around her tongue.

“N-n-nevermind—i-it’s not a big deal.”

“No.” Kita grips her chin and forces Nijika to look at her. “Say it again.”

Nijika blushes up her ears and tries to tear her head away. “I-I-I, er, I said ‘I understand’—”

“That’s not what you said,” Kita whispers lowly. She tightens her other hand over the leash and puts the slightest pressure on Nijika’s collar.

She watches Nijika’s eyes glaze over as she slowly tugs harder. With a final jerk, Nijika splutters, “I-I s-said I want you to ruin me please.” 

Kita can hardly think.

She pulls Nijika in for a kiss so gentle it hurts. She moves to place fluttering kisses on her cheek, her nose, her eyelid, her forehead. She takes Nijika’s shirt and pulls it over the girl’s head, mouth going dry as Nijika helps her shimmy out of it. Soon, Nijika is undressed. Kita can barely pull herself away from Nijika to look her over, naked except for her leash and collar. Her voice is rough. “I’m mean.”

Nijika nods. Kita kisses her on the top of her head and takes the leash, tightening her grip. 

“Pretty girl, pretty darling girl,” Kita mutters. She chuckles darkly. “I wasn’t going to, but… do you want to try something?”

For a second, Kita lets go of the collar and slides off the bed, and Nijika’s heart falls pitifully. But then Kita is cracking open a small shoebox and taking out a bottle of lube and Nijika inhales. And when Kita pulls out a strap-on Nijika’s jaw falls open. 

“Kita?” she peeps. 

Kita hums. “Yes?”  

“Isn’t that too much?”

Kita forgives her pet for speaking out of turn. She scoots back over to Nijika and kisses her on the head again. “What is? It’s hardly a thing, baby, I know you can do it.”

Nijika stares mutely at the strap. Kita offers it for Nijika to touch, and Nijika takes it, examining the item and rolling it in her hand. Kita asks, “Can you handle it? I won’t do it if you don’t want to.”

After a long moment, Nijika swallows thickly and mumbles, “I…I want it.” Kita smiles. Nijika’s eyes follow the strap as Kita takes it back and fastens it around her waist. She gulps when Kita pours the lube over her hands and cups over the tip, pumping down to the base to cover the entire dildo with slickness.  She feels like she can’t breathe. She’s digging her hands into the sheets and feels stuffed just looking at it, and she can’t—

“Turn around for me, baby.” 

Nijka locks eyes with Kita. A whimper falls through her lips. Kita’s smile softens and she leans down, her face hovering a touch away from Nijika’s. Nijika hesitates before pecking her on the lips. Her face burns. 

“Relax, darling, I got you. Turn around,” Kita murmurs, lower, a hand coming up to brush a few stray strands of hair from Nijika’s eyes, tucking it behind her ear. Nijika gulps and turns around, and faintly misses Kita the moment their eyes break contact. 

“Bend over for me, like that- good girl, you’re so good for me.” Kita kisses her shoulder, gently pressing her against the mattress and smoothing her hand up and down Nijika’s back. She hears Kita sighing blissfully and feels the way she regards her. It shoots a funny, mushy feeling up her tummy, one that makes her toes curl and her ears redden. 

At Kita’s command, Nijika props up on her elbows. A hand traces along her spine reverently before rubbing soft circles into her lower hip and pushing down. Nijika feels her back bend slightly. Another sigh.

“You’re trembling.”

Nijika stares at the bedpost and nods, her face hovering above the mattress. 

A deft finger brushes against her pussy. “And wet.”

“K-Kita…” 

Nijka feels the tip of the dildo nudge up to her entrance and can’t stop the guttural moan ripping from her throat as it splits her open and eases inside. It’s overwhelming. Kita pauses for a moment to let her breathe before continuing. Nijika falls into soft mewls and groans. She twitches, and feels it stretch inch by inch inside of her. 

“Oh baby,” Kita mutters, “We aren’t even halfway and you’re already so wrecked.”

“I-it’s a bit b-big,” Nijika chokes out, fingers clawing into the sheets. Her back is breaking into sweat and her head is swamped with fuzz and rough pleasure. She moans as the dildo digs in ever further, clenching around it. It should hurt, but the pain is hazy and swept away by every gradual millimeter filling her up. It’s foreign. It burns. She’s gasping and groaning and it feels so full and god, Kita’s not even done. “I-it’s t-too much.”

Kita pauses and lowers besides her ear. For a moment, Nijika feels relieved, thinking she’s going to relent.

“We’ll make it fit,” Kita says. Nijika can’t help the whine that escapes her, louder than all the others. Her hips are trembling, elbows buckling until her chest touches the mattress, legs quivering, but Kita has a steady hand pressed right below her belly, forcing her ass up. 

Another inch. And another. Nijika is babbling into the sheets, “Please please—”

There’s tears prickling the edge of her eyes by the time the Kita’s hips are flushed to her, the dildo completely filling her out. Kita lets them rest. Their breathing is audible in the silence, Kita’s surprisingly uncomposed. Slowly, Nijika gets used to the feeling of fullness. Even motionless, she’s fluttering around the dildo and panting into the mattress. 

“Kita…” Nijika whimpers.

“God, you’re so cute,” Kita grits. “Y-you don’t know how much it’s taking me not to fuck you to pieces right now.”

Nijika groans. Kita bends forward to pick up the leash. “Cute girl, mine for the night, just mine.” She sounds breathless, like she’s speaking more to herself than Nijika. She rubs the leash between her fingers and draws little circles at the base of Nijika’s spine, mumbling absentminded praise, ‘pretty, pretty. You’re so pretty…’ There’s a brief reprieve–Nijika’s still so full, her head crowded with arousal and Kita’s voice, but she handles it.  

And then, Kita pulls. Nijika is jerked back by the collar, her back arching as Kita cants back and thrusts forward. Her mouth falls open. 

Kita fucks into her relentlessly, one hand gripping harder on the leash and another tightening on her hips as she sets an insistent, ruthless rhythm. Nijika’s groan is cut off as Kita tugs her right into a particularly rough thrust, and holds the girl in that position as she angles to sink down into Nijika. 

“We fit together so well, don’t we?” Kita tugs even harder at her leash. “Don’t we?” 

Nijika can’t breathe— there’s no way—

“Speak.”

“Y-yes— ” Nijika chokes out. The collar is digging into her throat and her back feels like it’s going to break and she’s melting, shuttering as Kita hits a particularly nice angle that makes her let loose a desperate, wheedling sound she barely recognizes. It’s in and out and in and out and Nijika grasps at the bedsheets, knuckles white, thighs trembling, lost in a haze of pleasure. She drools. Kita grips her hips in place. 

“Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” Kita’s voice is rough with arousal. 

“Yes yes, please yes—”

“Are you going to take it for me?”

“Yes yes yes Kita, yes.”

“Just for me?”

Nijika whines, “Just for you—”

Kita pulls back and thrusts, and Nijika cums in a flash of white. It’s overwhelming—Nijika’s eyes roll up as half-formed words spill out of her mouth, and it’s still going in and out, slamming her over and over, and all she can think of is–

She whimpers as Kita pulls out, leaving her empty. “Good girl.” Kita drops the leash and she slumps forward, her arms folding under her and shaking.  

“You’re such a good girl, my good girl, I’m so proud of you. Look at me, baby,” Kita coos. “I want to see you.”

She’s crumpled, dripping, and ruined, and there’s no way there aren’t tear tracks down her eyes. Her head is spinning but she turns her head barely and catches Kita’s gaze. Kita’s smile is giddy, greedy and dripping with lust.   

“Good girl, good girl, you did so well, oh…” Kita mutters. “So pretty. You’re so…” 

Nijika breathes out and finally relaxes. She’s blinking through a daze and finally feels like she’s resurfacing. But for some reason Kita is turning her around and looking at her wrecked body up and down, eyes still clouded over.

Nijika’s head feels like mush. She doesn’t quite understand. 

Kita’s hands are snaking under her armpit and raising her. A nervous feeling breaks over Nijika.  

In one smooth motion, Kita lifts her body up and sets her gently into her lap, perching Nijika’s chin on her shoulder and sliding Nijika right on the dildo. She takes it whole, easily. Nijika’s mouth opens with realization and she’s shaking again, but only a fumbling string of incomprehensible sounds fall out. Kita gently hushes her and starts to thrust her hips.

“Wait wait wait—”

Nijika keens and cums embarrassingly quickly. Then she shutters and whines and tries to weakly push her away. This can’t be happening. Kita hugs her closer, flushing their bodies together, and continues steadily rocking the dildo into her. She’s fucking her into another orgasm and Nijika can’t stop it. She feels like she’s going to go insane. She babbles nonsense, thighs shivering and clamped around Kita’s waist as a hand on her lower back pushes her down at the same time Kita thrusts up into her.

“Yes darling, what is it?” Kita says. She keeps going. “What’s the matter?”

“W-wait wait, please Kita, please please please please—”

“Please what? I’ll stop if you say it.”

Nijika cums again. 

Her hands are clawing weakly against Kita’s back, but arms are locking around her waist and Kita moves her hips until Nijika is draped uselessly on her and helplessly cumming again and again in her lap.

“Please please—“ She’s sobbing in Kita’s ear and can’t tell what she’s saying anymore. 

Her head is going empty. Kita hushes her and murmurs soft things. 

“Stick out your tongue.”

Her face is numb. Nijika mindlessly lolls out her tongue. Kita wraps her mouth around it and sucks, and Nijika is moaning, mewling, and twitching. A hand toys with her collar. Kita thrusts into her. It goes white, and then black. 

The first thing Kita wakes up to is the smell of breakfast, and the thought of are you for real right now.  

Really, who else would wake up in the arms of another, after all that, and decide that it was time to cook! Say good morning first, at least! Kita gets up, brushes her teeth and resolves to say as much. She takes a shower and finds small signs of somebody else—the shampoo and conditioners swapping places, a skewed towel, and a hair tie that wasn’t her’s. 

Nijika is stifling a yawn and cooking something when Kita enters the kitchen. Kita freezes. 

It’s domestic. Nijika’s still-damp hair runs down her back and she’s rubbing her eyes and stirring something into the pan. She stole one of Kita’s hoodies and it engulfs her in a way that makes Kita’s heart want to turn over and sob in her chest. On the other hand, Kita’s hair is blow-dry flung all over the place and her arms are aching and her hips are sore and she’s grumpy because by gods that girl is cooking again! She makes her way over to Nijika, quiet as a shadow, and wraps her arms around the girl’s waist. “Nijika…” 

Nijika jumps and glances at Kita for a moment before pushing more bacon around in the pan. “I used every last egg in your fridge,” she says, and grins unapologetically. 

Kita hums and lazily tucks her chin on Nijika’s shoulder. “Have you learned nothing?”

“Breakfast is bacon omelet.”

“Oh,” Kita says. She’s weak. “Can you add more bacon to mine?”

Nijika laughs and does. It’s a loose and pretty sound. Kita pulls away to take the loaf of bread sitting on the living room table and stick two slices into the toaster oven, and by the time she sits down with toast at the table Nijika is settling two plates of hot food in front of her.

She takes a bite and tries not to fall over. “This is good!”

“Thanks!” Nijika takes a bite out of her omelet and savors the flavor. Kita stares at the girl cut another piece of omelet and eat it.  

“How do you feel about trying to record again today?” Kita asks softly.

Nijika pauses. Then she says, “Well, I don’t feel like I’m going to explode in an anxious ball anymore.”

”You’re still cooking.”

Nijika shrugs and smiles playfully at her. It sends a warm, bubbling feeling through Kita’s chest. And yet…

“Do I need to collar you again?” Kita says.

Nijika opens her mouth and closes it, and Kita has to wonder if this was all planned from the start when Nijika’s smile turns sheepish and she mumbles—

“M-maybe.”