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#it sounds and looks. so fucking bad. because no one is even attempting to act.
polaraffect · 22 days
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lol lmao when the people in your performance group project didn't prepare AT ALL for anything so now you have to attempt to edit what you filmed into something vaguely watchable and it's Not Working
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hoekyeom · 4 months
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bruises | k.mg
street fighter bf!mingyu x afab!reader
established relationship, porn with some plot, minghao cameo cuz i love him, mentions of injury and blood, fighting, make up sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, one joke of mingyu being a masochist, one mention of death, creampie, oral (m receiving), skull fucking, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, recording, cum swallowing, cum eating, praise, muscle and size kink if you squint but that’s guaranteed in a mingyu fic 😭😭
summary: you and mingyu get into a fight over his bad habits, angst and smut ensues
wc: 2.7k
you’ve always hated the fights mingyu got himself into. he’d come home almost every week, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. this time wasn’t any different, it was past midnight by this point, and you were curled up on the couch watching a random movie in an attempt to distract yourself from your growing worries. mingyu is usually home by this point.
a few more minutes go by and mingyu stumbles through the door with more injuries than usual. he sets his key down as you frantically walk towards him, noticing the way be avoids your eyes, “gyu.. your face, your bleeding everywhere.” he gives you a cold stare, his face battered and bloodied, and he brushes past you, going towards the bathroom where your med-kit usually was.
“yeah that’s the whole point y/n, it’s called street fighting for a reason.” you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you, just pent up anger from years of fighting, and especially tonight. scanning his whole body, the bright bathroom lighting allowing for you to see all his cuts and wounds more closely.
he slipped off his shirt, a huge bruise starting to form on the left side of his torso. “..you sure you didn’t break something?” your hand coming up to lightly stroke his ribs, mingyu’s anger blinding him from leaning into your warm touch.
“no, and why do you care so much anyway? it’s not like this is the first time.”
you tipped your head to the side, a ‘what’s that smell’ expression laid on your face, “what kind of question is that? i care because you’re my boyfriend, of course i’m gonna be worried.” your voice was nothing short of angry, your eyebrows almost meeting in the middle due to your frustration.
“you shouldn’t be.”
“uhh? yes i should, i’m tired of seeing you walk in here everyday with new cuts to clean. and your ribs.. mingyu you need to go see a doctor.”
“look y/n, i’ve been doing this for years—“
“well i think you should stop.”
it was deathly quiet, and mingyu’s hand holding a cotton pad paused in the air as he stared at you through the mirror. only the whirring sound of your ac being heard to combat the july heat. mingyu looked at you for a bit, chuckling to himself as his tongue poked through the side of his cheek, grabbing the gauze out of the med-kit and wrapping it around his knuckles.
“what’s so fucking funny?”
“oh nothing just that fact that you think you can tell me what to do.”
“yeah i’ll you what to do if it means not having you die in some alleyway.”
“please y/n, it never goes that far.”
“look at yourself! you basically limped in here, and i tried to help you but now you act like i’m a bitch for being worried about you?” you yelled.
mingyu finished up the gauze as he dropped everything and grabbed his shirt, walking towards the door. he left with a slam, not even caring to bid you goodbye, or kiss you and say ‘i love you’ like he always does.
the post-anger tears started streaming down your face. you knew he was probably gonna go crash at minghao’s, yet even with how frustrated you were, you still couldn’t help but worry and think about mingyu going to sleep untreated.
-
9:02 PM
(5) missed calls
gyu?
mingyu im sorry
are you okay? did minghao get you painkillers?
please dont fight again, at least take some time to let ur body rest :((
a full day had gone by. guilt stirred in mingyu’s stomach as he stared at his phone screen. he was the one who should be apologizing, not you.
he sighed, shutting off his phone and getting up. he knew he had to face you at some point.
“you leaving?”
mingyu hummed, shuffling into his shoes and heading out the door as minghao yelled out a goodbye. mingyu hopped in his car, letting the silence engulf him.
when mingyu walked into the apartment he noticed how dim it was, assuming you were asleep. he took his shoes off as quietly as possible, making his way to your guys’ shared bedroom. he heard a muffled voice, noting that the door was only half closed, peeking into the crack.
he saw you, adorned in one of his hoodies that was much too big for you, sleeves bunched up at your wrists and the hem coming down to your mid-thigh, naked legs on full display.
you paced around the room and it looked like you were on the phone with someone, the voice being hard to identify.
“did he say anything to you when he left?”
“nah, he just walked out.”
oh. it was minghao.
“shit, um, he didn’t even mention where he was going?”
mingyu heard the panic in your voice and the way your forefinger and thumb came to rub at your temples. he walked in as your eyes shot up to look at him, not hesitating to hang up on minghao, throwing your phone on the bed and running to jump into mingyu’s arms.
“oh my god mingyu!” you looked up at him and immediately started hitting him, “stupid! stupid! stupid! i hate you!” each hit enunciating your words, feeling like nothing but weak taps to mingyu. tears spilled out of your eyes, as mingyu only hugged you closer, hand coming up to pet your hair as the other cradled your head into his chest. he heard your muffled sniffing, his heart breaking at the stress he caused you.
“shhh i know, i know i’m stupid. i’m sorry baby.”
“you’re so mean! why didn’t you at least text me back? do you know how scared i was?” your voice broke, looking up at him with swollen eyes.
“i ..” mingyu paused, his hands coming down to hold your face, “i know i fucked up, i was too embarrassed to face you, afraid that you’d end things with me, which i would’ve probably deserved. i’m so, so sorry angel, i know no amount of apologizing will take away your worries, and i know i should’ve stayed and talked things out with you”
his thumb came to wipe away your falling tear, your hands hooking around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. he instantly reciprocated, hands traveling down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close so that your bodies were flush against each other.
“i forgive you, i’m sorry for raising my voice at you.” you mumbled into his mouth, mingyu backing away to confusedly look at you.
“why are you apologizing? don’t say sorry baby, you should’ve slapped me as soon as i walked through that door.”
you giggled, looking down as you felt something press into your stomach, “you’re hard? really? got hard at the thought of me slapping you?” you teased.
“loooook..” mingyu looked away bashfully, his hand scratching the back of his neck.
“ew, you’re such a weirdo.” you said, slipping off mingyu’s hoodie to reveal a white tank top, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. you dropped down to your knees, fingers going straight to work untying your boyfriend’s sweatpants and pulling them down, along with his boxers, to his knees.
“oh, shit, hold on— you don’t have to do that baby.” mingyu hooked his hands underneath your armpits, attempting to pull you up being cut off by you stroking him.
“please, i want to.”
mingyu hesitated but was soon slapping his tip against your cheek, cooing at the way your head followed to try and get it in your mouth. finally he put it where you wanted, circling your tongue around the sensitive head. mingyu’s head lulled back, letting out a groan.
you took all of him into your mouth at once, his tip consistently hitting your uvula as you bobbed your head, twisting your hand on the base of his cock.
“fuck juuust like that baby, shit, h-have you been practicing on other guys or something?”
you laughed, only causing you to choke on his length, hitting his thigh as punishment for making you laugh while doing something that literally constricts your airflow.
“okay, okay, no more jokes, got it.” mingyu snickered, his gauzed hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.
you came off of him with a pop, wiping off the drool dripping down your chin with the back of your hand, “gyu, u-use my mouth.”
mingyu smiled smugly, wordlessly grabbing ahold of your head with his other hand before shallowly thrusting into your wet mouth.
it wasn’t long before his length was ramming into your throat, breathless fuck’s and just like that’s leaving his cut lips. he was scared to even look down, afraid that if he saw your fucked out face he’d cum too quick.
you’re eyes looked up at him, tendrils of hair slipping past mingyu’s hold due to the sheer speed at which his hips slammed into your mouth.
“christ y/n, you look s’pretty like this, gon’ let daddy take a picture?”
you moaned at the label he placed on himself, nodding around his cock, eyes never leaving his sweat and scab covered face. mingyu pulled out his phone, angling the camera at your face. a red box with white numbers ascending appearing at the top of his screen.
“it’s a video baby, you don’t mind do you?” mingyu laughed when you attempted to hum a nuh-uh, only a string of muffled gags being heard. you were so wet, clit aching to be touched. you inched your hand down to touch yourself, drawing quick, fast circles.
“of course you don’t, so perfect, take my dick so well”
mingyu realized what it was you were doing to your lower half, “y’touching yourself? don’t worry daddy will fill y’up nice and good after this, j-jus’ let me cum in your mouth pretty.”
with a few final thrusts, and the erratic spasming of mingyu’s hips, you felt his hot cum travel down your throat, hollowing your cheeks as you slurped every last drop.
your knees ached as mingyu pulled you up, ending the video and hastily putting it in his hidden folder. he pulled you into a kiss, “did so good f’me baby, you always know how to spoil me.” he spoke into your mouth, tasting his own release.
“w-wanna ride you,” you huffed out, breathless. mingyu grinned, the right side of his face being the only indication of it, while the left was so mangled you couldn’t tell what expression he was even making. whoever he fought got him good.
“you sure? don’t tire yourself doll.”
“i’m sure!” you said grabbing mingyu’s hand, dragging him to the bed.
“whatever you say cutie,” mingyu let out a strangled breath while lowering himself down onto the bed, his torso still extremely sore, and his head perched up against the headboard. you quickly pulled down your shorts and panties as you swung your leg over his thighs, leaning down to kiss him.
you hand raked over his chest and chiseled abs, fingers dipping into each and every crevice as mingyu’s tongue explored your mouth. you pulled back and grabbed a hold of his flushed cock, rubbing it along your folds as your slick dripped down his length, a whimper leaving your lips.
“shit.” he hissed, staring intently as you paused your ministrations to line yourself up, slowly sinking down. you stared down at where you were taking him in, brushing the hair out of your face to get a better look. mingyu’s mouth fell agape, “you’re so fucking tight,” watching as a bulge slowly formed just below your belly button. even after the countless times you and mingyu had had sex, he was always just so big, your tiny pussy barely taking him in each time.
you finally looked up, mingyu’s eyes meeting your own. “jus’ gimme a sec gyu, you’re s-so big,” you said breathlessly.
mingyu smirked cockily, “take your time gorgeous.” his hands soothingly rubbing you’re plush thighs.
you bounced slowly, feeling each vein of his cock drag against your walls, tiny gasps leaving your lips. mingyu let you control the pace for a bit, allowing for you to adjust to his size. but he was getting impatient, his hands coming down to grip the sides of your hips, his four digits digging themselves into your ass before lifting you up and slamming you back down, the movement knocking the wind of you, making your jaw go slack.
“fuck!” your head hung low, hands coming up to grip his broad, muscly shoulders for support, watching out for any bruises.
“that’s it baby, just hold onto daddy and let him make y’feel good.”
mingyu’s pace was animalistic, his hold on you hard enough to leave an imprint. you were shocked as to how he had this much energy considering what his body had endured a night ago.
tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust. the curve of his cock aligning just right with your g-spot. “oh my fff-fucking god! mingyu please, ha-harder!”
you didn’t even know if it was possible to go harder, but mingyu managed to slam you down with even more force then before. a bead of sweat ran down his tan neck, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he stared up at you with hooded eye. his hips thrust upwards to meet you halfway, causing you to let out mangled gasps and moans. you were sure he was puncturing your lungs by this point. no inch of your pussy was left unexplored, squishy pink walls molded perfectly to hug his cock.
“jus’ like that gorgeous, your pussy was made f’me.”
“s-soo deep daddy, feel you in my tummy..” you whined out as you saw mingyu grin, canines on display, his hand coming up to grab yours, placing your hand on the bulge on your stomach, almost cumming right there when you felt the bump.
“fuck, you jus’ got so tight, y-you like when daddy pokes your tummy like that?”
you nodded frantically, tears flowing down your hot, pink cheeks, “i-i’m gon—na cum, g-gonna cum!” you struggled to get the words out, mingyu understanding you nonetheless.
“cum with me baby, gon’ let daddy cum in you?”
“fuck, yes d-daddy, want you to fill me up so bad, p-put a .. a baby in me,” mingyu loved how dirty your mouth got every time you were close to coming. his right hand pressed onto the small of your back, causing you to arch into him. his mouth was at perfect level with your nipples, taking your tit into his mouth and circling the hard nub with his tongue.
the pleasure was all too much, and with a few more hard thrusts your hole was spasming around his thick base, clenching and unclenching, mingyu’s mouth detaching from your breast as he looked up at you, his eyes shutting tightly as hot cum shot into your pussy.
“shiiiit, you’re milking me baby.” mingyu said, still grinding your hips onto him as he rode out both of your orgasms.
you reluctantly lifted yourself off of him, feeling some of mingyu’s cum drip down your thigh, scooping it with your index and middle finger and licking it off as you cuddled into his side, his arm laid across your shoulder.
mingyu watched as you cleaned him off your fingers, smoothing your disheveled hair. “such a good girl, not letting any of daddy’s cum go to waste.” he said as he booped your nose.
you giggled, “you okay though, gyu? d-does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, still breathless from your fresh orgasm.
“don’t worry about me doll, are you feeling okay? did i go too hard?”
“mm-hm, just a lil’ sore,” you snuggled closer.
“a shower should help ease y’up,” mingyu swung his feet over the bed, getting up as he reached his hand out, “think you can walk?”
“nooo i need my big, strong boyfriend to help carry me,” you joked, climbing into mingyu’s arms as he threw you over his shoulder, landing a playful slap on your ass.
“asshole! i’m not helping you replace your bandages.” mingyu could hear the pout in your voice, laughing as he made his way to the bathroom.
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@gyusinning | thank you for reading!
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hyewka · 5 months
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warnings. switch!beomgyu, idol!au, brief mention of choking
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cant stop thinking about trainee!reader and idol!beomgyu, where gyu first introduces a fuck buddy relationship after sleeping with you one time, not aware that alone would be the sole reason his obsession and attachment manifests. just imagine dom gyu whos used to fucking with no strings attached due to the nature of his occupation and who thinks itll be the same with you until he feels bored enough to leave your messages on delivered. but idol!beomgyu who one day lets out his frustrations, too roughly and mean that when hes done and sees the hurt, the less than normal distance, gets some clarity to immediately melt into apologies, inspecting every inch of your body to be sure you’re okay.
beomgyu who for once, lets someone sleep in with him after sex all because of what he assumed was really bad guilty conscience. awkward as he attempts to scoot for some room, letting you cover your body under his blanket, just completely rigid as he stares at the ceiling with his hands to his sides like some soldier.
then…he does it again, he lets you sleep in, this time its because he’s tired and he can feel your exhaustion radiating off you. he’ll feel bad letting you walk all the way to your flat. but due to how frequent you get together, his arms feel more comfortable wrapping around your figure as you drift to sleep.
when he lets it happen the third time, it’s a problem.
you didn’t fuck, not even a quickie or a makeout session, just him, for whatever reason, asking you to cuddle. cuddle. “i’m stressed, with the comeback and all.” he mumbles lamely, biting down slightly on his lip, trying to convince himself as well.
“when you’re stressed… we fuck.” you say slowly, and skeptically.
just when hes about to backtrack and take it back you jump in his bed anyway, “whatever i’m not gonna refuse a good mattress.”
and then when you sleep with your face turned towards him, he feels like hes been sucked in, looking at every detail as if hes trying to have a picture in his head forever.
beomgyu who gets attached way too fast and way too quick that after the fourth time you‘ve fucked around and sees you flirting it up with soobin he absolutely loses it.
“i just got him a gift to congragulate him for landing the mc gig..why’re you acting like i murdered your entire bloodline?”
because thats what it feels like.
he inexplicably presses harder on your throat, shutting you up more by pressing his lips on yours, kissing and kissing till your lips were swollen, his brows furrowed deeply as you pathetically attempt to roll your hips into his. fucking you against the wall in a random artists’ green room, five minutes before a pre recording…hes fucking lost his mind.
god, he’s addicted.
imagine when your dynamic slowly flips, none of you are aware until you realize how often he follows you around like a puppy fan—you don’t think he was ever this clingy. beomgyu being the one who tries to meet up any chance available even paying you a visit secretly in the practice room at midnight, sneaking in snacks.
then its the sex— he’s more vocal, more sensitive when you touch him, moaning so loud you would have to clasp a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. his eyes glaze over at times when you praise him and holy shit what the fuck was up with choi beomgyu.
the beomgyu you met that one day, fucked at a random hotel, and quite literally introduced hard kinks almost immedietely nows in front of you, crumbling down to his knees with his glossy eyes peering up at you like you were a god, begging you to use his face to get off. ruin his makeup. ruin him, please.
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toothfa-1-ry · 8 months
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DOYOUWANTTOGOTOTHEBALLWITHME? draco malfoy
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In which,
Draco just can't seem to ask you to be his date for the Yule ball
GENRE: fluff
PAIRING: 4th yr Draco x 4th year reader
FEAT: lee do hyun as Terry Booth!!
WARNING: none :>
A/N: A continuation of my Draco Malfoy is a loser agenda!! Also did I mention that Draco is a very DRAMATIC loser??
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"uhm hi y/n" Draco said nervously as he turned to look at Pansy and Blaise who gave him a reassuring nod and a thumbs up
"ooh hi Draco"
"uhm so..y/n" Draco nervously chuckled as he played his his hand cuffs "uh..y/n haha.."
"Draco-" Pansy hissed "you already said her name, there's no need to repeat it again"
"right- sorry. Uhm so y/n!"
"oh god he's a lost cause" Blaise muttered to Pansy who just shook her head.
"I can hear you, just in case you didn't know" Draco angrily muttered towards them, shooting them both a dirty look
"uhm are you talking to y/n or are you talking to us?" Blaise questioned, his eyebrows raised
"oh bloody hell" Draco sweared "uhm anyway y/n uh so like I'm pretty sure you heard the announcement today- during breakfast because like you have ears uh I have ears too! So I heard the announcement too- ha" Draco awkwardly continued.
"ofcourse she has ears dunderhead and ofcourse she heard it! Everyone heard the announcement" piped Lorenzo from a corner "just try to charm her won't you?"
Theodore shook his head in amusement as he watched his best mate Draco act like a complete fool. Actually he always acted like a fool except most of the time he didn't make it this obvious.
"right- right my bad my bad" Draco shook his head "so! Y/n!"
"yes Draco? What is the matter?"
"I thought you could do the er honour of er taking me to the Yule ball y'know" Draco smirked as he attempted to charm you like Lorenzo said
"I mean cause like I could go with anyone but I thought that I'd give you the first chance of going with me!" Draco quickly rambled and then flicked his hair "so what do you say?"
Theodore and Lorenzo tried holding in their laughter as Pansy groaned and Blaise muttered curses under his breath.
"oh bloody hell" Matteo mumbled
"mate that was horrible and I'm not even y/n! I'm just pretending to be her!" Matteo exclaimed as he took of the wig he was wearing
"if your gonna be this bad with me pretending to be y/n, how are you actually gonna face her!?" Matteo shook his head and turned to Pansy "he's totally lost!"
"it wasnt that bad was it?" Draco cringed at himself.
Oh he knew how bad it was
"it was HORRIBLE" all his friends shouted at him, especially Matteo who was honestly tired of wearing the wig and pretending to be you for the 9th time now.
"c'mon mate! This is the 9th time I'm pretending to be y/n. Just ask her out NORMALLY PLEASE" Matteo shouted
"oh shut up okay! I'm trying" Draco hissed his face turning pink
"well try harder" Theodore said from a corner "if you don't ask her out soon, someone else will"
"what?" Draco whisper shouted "you mean- there's a chance that she'll go to the Yule ball with someone else whose not me?"
Theodore rolled his eyes at his blonde friend, "incase you haven't noticed, many guys in Hogwarts likes her. And now you have double the competition with Durmstang and Beuxbaton"
Draco went pink in the face again "oh fuck"
"yup!" Lorenzo patted his cousin in the shoulder "so you better hurry up cuz!" He cheerily said as if Draco wasn't going through a mini panick attack
"ugh whatever!" Pansy groaned "you! Get your act together" she pointed at Draco "we're gonna practice this one more time! Matteo wear the wig"
Matteo grumbled as he begrudgingly wore the wig " on merlins beard why do I have to pretend to be y/n"
"okay! In 3-2-1" Pansy hollered, completely ignoring Matteo "action!"
"y/n hi! Uh I have to talk to you! Uh about uh something" Draco awkwardly grinned
"ooh yes Draco! What is it?" Matteo said in a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like you.
"uhm so-" Draco stammered
"yes Draco? Hehe" Matteo let out a giggle and twirled a strand of the wig
"uhm!..I have a collection of chocolate frog cards!" Draco squeaked, the word Yule ball being unable to form in his mouth
He heard all his friends groan and he became redder then a Weasley
"oh god not again..that's it. I'm going" Matteo threw the wig on the ground shaking his head "all the best" he patted Draco and walked away
"oh c'mon- wait one last time let me try one last time!" Draco whined as he watched all of his friends walk out of the dorm "oh wait- guys wait!"
-
"you can do this. I believe in you" Lorenzo gave his cousin a thumbs up
"well I don't" Matteo snorted which caused Draco to give him a dirty look "what? I'm being honest"
"she's right over there. Just go to her, say hi, maybe compliment her and then ask her out" the caramel haired boy ignored Matteo and gave his poor shaking cousin some tips
"what? What kind of compliments to I give her?" Draco whispered back in a sort of panick
"geez. Just tell her that she looks pretty today, and that you'd be honoured if she would go to the ball with you" Theodore cut in and shrugs "works like a charm"
"okay.. alright I got this" Draco mumbled
"yea you got it..now go" Pansy ushered the boy "c'mon now go ahead" she pointed towards the courtyard where you were.
Draco walked up towards you and a bunch of third years who were talking to you. Suddenly he felt very intimidated by those small scrawny third years and immediately turned away and walked back to his friends
"I can't do this! You lot are right, maybe I am hopeless" Draco sulked as his friends let out another sigh
"did he just call himself hopeless?" Matteo peered at the sulking boy "oh dear, y/n really did a number on him huh?"
"not helping Matteo" Pansy said sternly, hitting Matteo in the arm.
"listen, your Draco Malfoy and your going to go and ask y/n the girl who've been crushing on since forever to go to the ball with you" Blaise said giving Draco a light shake
"and if she says yes all is good and if she doesn't, well- it's kind of embarassing but it's gonna be alright" Pansy adds
"yea so go and ask her out now before she goes to the ball with Terry Booth over there huh?" Theodore nudges Draco towards your direction as the smiling ravenclaw keeper approaches you
"oh bloody hell- no way in my watch is y/n going to go out with that crow" Draco fumed under his breath as he immediately rushed towards you
"yea go get'em tiger!" Draco could hear Matteo whooping and the constant shouting from his friends, all hyping him up but that could hardly matter right now
Dracos hands were going all clamy and he could feel his heart racing. He wanted to run away from you but he wasn't going to let Terry Booth ask you out right infront of him!
"y/n" Terry approached you with a smile
"Terry" you greeted the Korean boy with a grin "anything's the matter?"
"oh yea uh I wanted to ask you if-" the keeper then abruptly stopped mid sentence as another person had joined their conversation
"y/n! Y/n!" A frantic Draco appeared, his eyes widened and his hair a mess
"Draco? Are you alright?" You ask the Slytherin boy who seemed to be in a bit of a mix
"mhm m'fine- I have to talk to you" Draco grabbed your hand which took you by surprise
You look at a awkward Terry and a frantic Draco, unsure of what to make up with this situation
"oi Booth can you bigger off for a second?" Draco coldly dismissed Terry who simply raise a eyebrow before shaking his head
"er- alright, I'll talk to you later y/n" Terry mumbled before walking away
"Draco! What was that. You can't just tell people to bugger off" you begin scolding Draco, unaware that his hands were still holding yours
"y/n I have to tell you something" the boy gulped, he could feel the way your hands felt against his and the close proximity the both of you were in. His heart racing even faster
"what is it?" You ask him, your brows creased up in slight worry. The blonde Slytherin boy who was always so put together, confident and full of himself was now nervous and quite frankly not behaving like his usual self
"Draco are you sick?" You immediately raise your free hand to his head and Draco swears that his temperature rises by a hundred degrees probably.
"uhm y/n" the boy begins, he could feel his sweat dripping and his mouth going dry
"oh dear Merlin Draco your turning redder than a tomato! Let's go to madam Pomfrey" you usher him, pulling him into the hallway "c'mon let's go-"
"wait y/n listen- I have to tell you something first"
You look at Draco in confusion. What did he have to tell you so much that he was acting quite frankly out of his personality
"er- okay..can you tell me when we're in the infirmary?"
"no! I have to tell you now" Draco pressed on. He had to ask you right now when he was full of adrenaline or else he won't be able to ask you later
"oh okay, okay" you say a little taken back "what is it?"
Draco bites his lower lip and mumbles something
"what Draco? I didn't quite catch you"
"uhm...I think uh- I think you look very nice today!" Draco suddenly exclaimed
"o-oh!" That might have taken you back by surprise even more, a slight blush forms in your face "thanks..uhm"
"actually I think you look nice everyday" Draco continues his eyes looking down, his grip on your hand tightening.
You look down and realise that the both of you were holding hands and you feel your face getting hot
"that's really sweet of you to say Dray" you said before you could stop yourself
Draco looks up at you, his eyes widened at the sudden nickname you called him
"Dray?"
You eyes widen and you the undying urge to slap yourself across the face as you see the way Draco's eyes twinkle with mischief.
"did you just give me a nickname? Dray?" Draco grins smugly, completely forgetting the real reason why he was with you
"oh shut up" you huff "I'm never gonna say that again"
"oh no please do say it again" Draco teased you, watching your face get red
"r-right, what did you have to tell me Draco? Do say it fast I don't have all day" you quickly try to change the subject causing Draco to remember the real reason why he was talking to you
"er-" Draco immediately felt all his confidence and smugness fading away
"oh dear Draco your getting red all again" you worriedly said, peering into his face "are you sure you don't need to-"
"not Draco" Draco mumbled
"what?"
"not Draco, don't call me Draco" Draco mumbled a bit louder
"well, what do you want me to call you then-"
"Dray, you should call me Dray" he says softly
Your eyes widen "Dray... I don't understand what-"
"doyouwanttogototheballwithme?" Draco squeaked
"what?"
Draco cleared his throat and looked around, he beckoned you to come closer to him and leaned towards you
"do you want to maybe perhaps go to the ball with..me?" He whispered into your ears filling your stomach with butterflies
"oh- Draco I-" you stammer, unable to form sentences "uhm I would really actually like that" you whisper back in surprise
"really?" Draco asked you back, his voice in equal surprise
You give a shy nodd
"really?!" Draco asked again looking at you eyes widened "I'm not going to stop saying really unless you give me a proper answer l/n"
Your roll your eyes "yes really...Dray I would love to go to the ball with you"
"oh my god I think I'm gonna pass out" Draco said feeling faint
"I think that's a little but of a exaggeration- oh my god Draco!" You shout out, trying to catch the boy before he fell on the ground
"oh dear- he actually passed out" you grimace slightly as you make him lie down in one of the stools in the courtyard after dragging him all the way from the hallway
You softly brush his blonde hair away from his pink face
"how quite adorable" you laugh to yourself
-
"Hey Berkshire!" Terry greeted Lorenzo who along with all his friends were trying to see what Draco and y/n were doing just as they got dragged to the hallway
"ugh we cant see them anymore!" Pansy whined as she stretched her neck, only to get a glimpse of blonde hair
"uhm s'everything alright?" Terry asked
"yea everythings fine" Lorenzo smiled at the tall boy "what's up?"
"oh uh- I did what you told me too" Terry grinned as all of Lorenzo's friends looked at him with a confused face
Lorenzo laughed "great chap you are my friend" giving him a pat in the back
"I'm guessing you told me to pretend like I'm asking y/n to the ball just so that Malfoy would make a move first?" Terry winced as he asked Lorenzo who just seemed to grin even brighter
"my god- you do catch on quick don't you?"
Terry let out a laugh and blushed at the sudden compliment. He was never really good with compliments
"you did what?" Matteo asked eyes widened
"sneaky snake" Pansy squinted her eyes at him and grinned 'your a genius!"
Lorenzo simply shrugged
"so whatdya think? He asked her out yet?" Terry peered out from where Pansy was standing
"maybe if Draco finally got the guts" Pansy snorted
"oh I think he did" Blaise said hesitantly
"what?" Pansy and Matteo asked eagerly
"it appears that our little prince has..." Theodore paused not sure whether he was supposed to laugh or be embarrassed
"he has what?" Pansy questioned
"oh hell!" Matteo shouted with laughter "the bloody wanker has fainted!" Matteo exclaimed with glee all across his face
Pansy covered her face with embarrassment as the boys roared with laughter. Only Terry wasn't the one laughing along.
"oh dear" Terry shook his head sadly "now how would the poor boy be when he dances with her?"
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explicit-tae · 6 months
Text
Ungodly Hour: Day 3
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You’re feeling petty, so sending Jungkook nudes is how you get your revenge on him for leaving you.
Series Masterlist
Word Count: 3.212
Warning: jungkook getting clowned, face riding, oral sex, smut, simp jungkook, dirty talking, ass slapping, shit talking reader bs that's what she does, slight sexting
You ponder what life would be like if you lived with Jungkook - the weekend is long and waking up besides the man felt nice. He cooked breakfast after allowing you to sleep in, you two eating together. You’d shower, spend the day together (sex came randomly in between) and then go to bed.
Work was a task you’d dreaded, but you’d refuse to give up so quickly, even when Jungkook agreed to your joke of quitting, stating that you could always live off of him - an agreement the man was too quick to settle for.
Even after your boring, easy job, you acted as if it was the worst day of your life. Jungkook had bought takeout to make up for it and you were content for a while.
And now, you and Jungkook are in his bathroom, you attempting to concentrate on your task. You were dressed in nothing but a black silk robe - a gift from Jungkook - the both of you fresh out of the shower. He has a match one that he tied loosely around himself.
“Is it supposed to burn?” Jungkook asks, opening one eye to look at you. He sits on his closed toilet, you directly in front of him.
“If you ask me that one more time, Jungkook, I swear-”
“You want me to fuck you so bad, Y/N.” Jungkook closes his eyes, his hands reaching out for your waist to bring you close to him. 
You groan, squirming out of his reach. “We’re doing face masks.” you deadpan, your mind not comprehending how the man could be thinking about sex at a time like this. “Nothing about this is sexy, Kook.”
Jungkook scoffs - he begs to differ. There was never a moment Jungkook didn’t want you - but he was a man and maybe that was just the way his body reacts around you. He’d remain quiet, however, to make you any more irritated with him. Your irritation only fueled his sexual desire.
“‘Kay, done.” you lean back to admire your work on Jungkook’s face. Now the both of you matched - both sporting a cream colored face mask. “Our skins going to be so smooth when we’re done!” you squeal, and for a moment you’re excited - until you see the smile on Jungkook’s lips. “Ugh, didn’t mean to do that. Don’t think I like doing things like this with you.” you quickly scoff.
Jungkook cackles at your fraudulent change of tune. “You’re so down bad for me, Y/N.” Jungkook snatches your waist this time, bringing you closer to him. He then stands.  “Give it a few more months, baby, and you’ll finally admit it outside of sex.”
“Fuck off.” you murmur, hands pushing Jungkook back - even if you didn’t put that much force into it because you actually did like his embrace.
Jungkook brings his face closer, the need to kiss you heavy. He doesn’t get the chance to, however, a loud banging noise sounding throughout his home. His eyebrows furrow. “Someone’s at the door.” he says aloud. “Be right back.” 
You turn away from the man to clean up the mess you’ve made. As you turned on the water to clean the silicon brush, Jungkook takes it upon himself to slap your ass.
“Jung-” you swung around to snap, but Jungkook’s already out the door and down the hall, a loud trail of laughter echoing behind him.
Jungkook makes his way towards his front door, not caring about his appearance as he swings it open. 
“Oop, jump scare.” Jimin walks past him, shoving three large pizzas in his arms. “Why do you never answer your phone?”
Jungkook is dumbfounded as Hoseok and Taehyung steps in, as well, and for a moment he thinks about what he’s going to say.
However, Jungkook remembers that it’s Sunday - and Sunday’s were movie nights. He swallows the lump in his throat. 
He didn’t need Jimin knowing that you were here - not because Jimin hated you, it was quite the opposite. Jimin loved you (from afar) and your antics. He liked you and him together, stating that you made a good couple. 
Jimin knowing that you were here meant that Jungkook forgot about the weekly movie night - and then he’d have to hear Jimin’s mouth about how “pussy was worth more than the friendship” as he liked to put it.
“I was, uh, showering.” Jungkook responds, closing the door behind Hoseok. “Where’s Joon?” he questions, as if he wasn’t the one who lost track of his days. 
“Running late.” Jimin takes off his shoes and proceeds to go to the living room. “I wonder what’s new on the streaming services. Not like I’d know…” he trails off, side eyeing the younger male.
“You’ll have to get over that.” Hoseok snickers, taking his seat beside Jimin. “We all know Jungkook would find a girl that would take all his time.”
Jungkook laughs awkwardly, placing the boxes of pizza on the coffee table. 
“Ah, yes.” Taehyung sits on one of the leather chairs, a boxy smirk on his lips. “So…did Y/N teach you any new tricks?”
“Or is barking all you do?” Jimin scoffs, then proceeds to go out in full laughter, followed by Hoseok and Taehyung.
Jungkook rolls his eyes. It was bad enough he had to hear it in the groupchat. This was a moment they’ll never let him live down.
“I just want to be a fly on the wall.” Hoseok shakes his head. “Y/N has to be doing something lethal to have you bark-”
“It was a joke.” Jungkook hisses. “Pick a movie while I take this off.” he murmurs, making his way down the hall and back towards the bathroom. Jungkook opens the door and eyes you, face mask already off. “So, we have a dilemma.” he mumbles, coming towards the sink.
“I heard Jimin.” your arms are crossed. “Is he talking shit again?”
“It’s Jimin.” Jungkook scoffs. He begins to wipe the face mask off of his skin, scrubbing aggressively. “I forgot tonight was movie night.”
“Movie night?” you furrow your brows. “But I thought you said we were continuing Law & Order?”
Jungkook sighs. He turns off the water and turns towards you. “I did,” he admits. “but we have movie nights every Sunday and…” he trails off.
“And…” you shake your head, not comprehending. Jungkook grabs a small hand towel and wipes his face “...you’re saying fuck Lieutenant Olivia Benson? Because you want to watch a lame ass movie?” you cross your arms, even if you couldn’t be upset about it. You just wanted a reason to give him shit.
Jungkook licks his lips and smirks. “You’re so jealous, baby. I knew you’d-”
“Ew. Go watch your lame movie with your lame friends.” you push him away, fighting the smile stretching on your lips when you feel his hands on your wrist. “I’ll be in the room, I guess.”
Jungkook pokes his head out the bathroom door to assure no one was looking. Then, he drags you towards his room and shuts the door. “I’ll sneak you some pizza.” he murmurs. He rushes towards his closet to change into clothes.
“I…I can’t come out?” you scoff in disbelief. 
Jungkook shakes his head. “They’ve been cooking me in the groupchat and when they walked in. You walking out will only be my 13th reason.” Jungkook is dressed in under a minute, a black shirt and iron man pajama shorts. He comes towards you when he sees your wide eyed expression and wraps you in a sudden embrace, peppering your face with kisses. “I’ll let you sit on my face later.” he murmurs.
“You do that everyday.” you deadpan.
“Exactly.” Jungkook smiles. “So you’ll be okay for a few hours. I’ll try to kick them out after one movie, though.”
Again, Jungkook slaps your ass, but this time brings you in for a kiss. He’s out the door before you can say anything further. You eye his bedroom door for a moment and scoff with a shake of your head. 
“Hyung, when did you get here?” Jungkook asks when he strolls through the living room to see Namjoon. “Did you find a movie yet?”
“Got here a minute ago.” Namjoon responds.
“Haven’t been on here in so long. Forgot how to work the app.” Jimin retorts.
“Eventually you’re going to have to get over it.” Jungkook makes his way towards the kitchen to grab a plate. He then walks back towards the livingroom to gather a few slices of pizza for you. 
“Forget about the ultimate betrayal?” Jimin scoffs. “Never.”
“Where are you going?” Taehyung asks, eyeing Jungkook. 
“I’m just saving myself some pizza.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “Might be hungry in the middle of the night.”
Taehyung doesn’t respond.
Jungkook makes his way down the hall and back towards his room. “Special delivery.” he scurries in to drop the plate on his bedside table. “I can’t  wait for you to sit on my face later.”
“Don’t think you getting any pussy after keeping me in this room.” you retort, not removing your eyes from the screen. 
Jungkook snorts. “We’ll see about that.” He doesn’t have time for a petty argument, because that would only turn it to him fucking you into the mattress - and now, he didn’t have time for that.
“Since when do you eat in your room?” Hoseok questions as Jungkook returns, a confused look on his face. “Since I got lazy.” Jungkook responds without a second thought, sitting next to Namjoon. “What are we watching?” Jungkook is barely able to focus on the movie. He eats a couple slices of pizza, his eyes watching the movie that his mind refuses to acknowledge. He would rather be with you watching Law & Order - he knows by now you two would be cuddling. You would rub your ass against him slightly, pretending to be occupied with the show and that would be his que to-
“You don’t look interested.”
Jungkook blinks a few times and then turns to Namjoon, the source of the voice. 
“Just thinking.” Jungkook shrugs. 
“About Y/N?”
Jungkook cracks his neck, only snorting. 
“Jimin told me you were whipped. Didn’t tell me you couldn’t go a day without thinking about her.” Namjoon teases, his dimples deepening when he smirks. 
“Are you two talking about Y/N?” Jimin crosses his arms. He’s laying against the arm of the couch, his eyes piercing at Jungkook. 
“I sense one sided beef.” Taehyung calls.
“Because of her,” Jimin starts, and Namjoon groans, having heard this rant time and time again. “I was removed from all the streaming services. Not just one - all.”
“I gave you several warnings.” Jungkook grumbles. 
Hoseok snickers. “Like what?”
“I told him when Y/N usually watches her shows.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. 
“You give her access to streaming services so she can watch True Crime.” Jimin deadpans, an unamused look on his face. “When you end up on one of those documentaries because she slipped something in your drink-”
Jungkook sighs, leaning back into the couch. “Can we watch the movie-”
“- and murdered you, Jungkook. I will be on there telling the audience that there was red flags.”
Jungkook’s phone vibrates in his lap. He unlocks it, your name popping up.
Y/N 🥰: does jimin want to fight me?
Jungkook smirks.
“When are you going to admit you like Y/N?” Jungkook asks as he responds to your text. 
“And while we’re on the topic,” Taehyung pauses the movie. “how did you get her mother’s number?”
You were only curious in the conversation outside the bedroom once you began to hear speaking. You never turn down an episode of Law & Order, and thankfully you had. You were told by Jungkook that Jimin liked you - his words now say otherwise.
You were growing bored. The pizza was already gone and Jungkook didn’t bring you anything to drink.
But the most important thing was that you were bored - and feeling petty. 
you: I miss you
You didn’t miss him - you were bored and that’s different.
You watch as Jungkook reads the text instantly and begins typing.
kookie 🍪: i miss you too 🥹😍😏
you: can’t tell
you: you’re shit talking me with your lame friends
kookie 🍪: never. I got jimin to admit that he likes you more than he admits 🤙🏻
kookie 🍪: are you hungry still?
You grunt. You couldn’t be petty with Jungkook if he was offering to feed you.
you: no
you: just bored…
You bite your lip as Jungkook types. You suddenly open the camera app and take a picture. It’s a simple picture, you smiling in the camera.
Jungkook swallows, his eyes zoning in on the picture of you. Your robe was opened slightly more and he has a peak at your breast. 
“If it wasn’t for me he’d still be in the friend zone probably leasing cars for her attention.” Jimin retorts at Taehyung. Hoseok laughs at the comment. 
kookie 🍪: you’re so beautiful ♥️
kookie 🍪: the robe is nice on you
kookie 🍪: i can buy you more if you’d like
You snicker at Jungkook’s response. The man didn’t know what to do now and his first option was to spend if it meant that you’d send him more pictures.
“I feel like I should be compensated for my hard work.” Jimin exclaims. “Who else can say they got Jungkook out of the friendzone?”
“They were fucking. Don’t think that’s just a friend zone.” Namjoon announces. “Raw at that.”
Y/N 😍: i seem to be the topic of conversation tonight
Y/N 😍: i wish you were as interested in me as your friends are 🤭
Jungkook glances up at his bickering friends for a moment before texting back.
kookie 🍪: im beginning to think i spoil you if you cant be without me for a few hours… 😌
You’re taken aback by the tone in the message. As if you needed him - you didn’t. You were just bored and feeling a little confrontational today. 
Besides, Jungkook wasn’t going to have the last word.
“I still want to be a fly on the wall.” Hoseok adds. “Whatever she’s doing that has Jungkook worshiping the ground she walks on needs to be studied.”
“That or you’re just a pervert.” Taehyung shrugs. 
Jungkook glances down at his phone and coughs. Eyes turn to him suddenly and Jungkook stands. “I-I’m not feeling…my stomach hurts.” he makes his way down the hall and goes to open his bedroom door.
You giggle when you hear the bedroom door twist.
You’ve locked it before sending Jungkook the picture. You were already naked, mind as well use it to your advantage.
kookie 🍪: oh
kookie: open the door
you: enjoy your movie night
You hear the door knob shuffle once more. 
kookie 🍪: open the door
kookie 🍪: stop ignoring me baby
kookie 🍪: i can always break the door down
kookie 🍪 : then they’ll know you’re here
kookie 🍪: and hoseok already wants to be a fly on the wall
kookie 🍪: and i have no intentions of stopping once i have you on my tongue
You flung the door open with wide eyes. “Are you-”
Jungkook pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. “Just sit on my face.” he grumbles, hands pushing you backwards.
It doesn’t take long for your robe to be discarded on the ground. He takes in your naked sight and sighs with a shake of his head. “So needy.” he murmurs, laying down on his bed. “You missed me, huh? And it hasn’t even been a full movie length.”
“Did not.” you reject, pussy already in his face.
Jungkook clenches both of your legs. “Is that why you’re already wet?” his tongue licks your clit and hums. “It’s okay to admit you missed me, baby.”
Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond, he’s already diving head first into your. He suckles and slurps loudly, his hands keeping you in place. This time, he doesn’t care if you preferred him to now watch - he does anyways. His eyes are intense on watching you be pleasured by him - the cute needy moans, the fucked out look on your face. He wanted to experience it all.
“Your friends are gonna know you’re gone.” you whimper as Jungkook laps his tongue slowly between your folds. 
Jungkook leans back only slightly. “Do you want me to stop?” he questions.
You shake your head, and that’s all the convincing Jungkook needs. His right palm slapped your thigh. “Then I won’t. Now just ride my face until you cum.”
Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his excessive need to make you cum.
However, you do as you’re told. Your hips buckle against his tongue, your head falling back - mainly to avoid Jungkook’s gaze. It was his favorite part, he once told you, to watch you cum. 
Jungkook’s tongue feels amazing - and it’s the same tongue. It shouldn’t feel better than the last time, but somehow it does. Maybe it’s the way his hands rub along your thighs as you ride along his tongue - or maybe it’s the way he grips your breast and pinch your nipples that are an added bonus. 
Jungkook’s hands never stayed in one spot. They’re soon cupping your ass to encourage you to grind against him harder - how he never suffocates is beyond you.
“O-Oh, fuck.” Jungkook hears you hiss and he squeezes your ass even harder. His own breathing increases as he watches you - he can do this for as long as you wanted. You were so beautiful when you were aroused and cumming - it’s a sight he has engraved in his mind.
“I know you’re about to cum.” Jungkook says muffledly. His head bops back and forth, in rhythm with your grinding. He also knows how you enjoy the way he touches you, your ass being your favorite part. He probably will never know why girls enjoyed pain mixed with pleasure, but he was nothing but a man made to pleasure you.
So, Jungkook slaps your ass encouragingly, making sure to give it a good grip after each slap.
You needed to know what it was about Jungkook - and his tongue, fingers or cock - that has you cumming so harshly on his tongue like he wants you to; and even then he refuses to stop until you’re twitching.
Jungkook doesn’t allow you to fall back like you want to, his hands grasp your twitching form and assures that you’re placed on the bed.
Licking his lips, Jungkook smirks. “My pretty girl.” he says, kissing your forehead. “I’m going to continue my movie night, okay? Then I’m going to come back here and you’re going to sit on my face again.”
You nod your head lazily, not having it in you to argue. 
“I knew you were so down bad for me, baby.” Jungkook teases. He places the blanket over your naked body. “One day, I won’t need to fuck it out of you for you to admit.”
“Fuck you.” you hiss when Jungkook is half-way out the door.
“Trust me. I will.” Jungkook chuckles, closing the door behind him, leaving you in a state of arousal and anticipation.
Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his good dick, fingers, tongue and heart.
Series Masterlist
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@suciedad-divina @satisfied18 @y2k5bby @petalsofink @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx @tasha-0795 @busanbby-jjk @joonlover1207 @hollowtree11 @amberpanda99 @parkinglot-nights @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hoseokteardrop @jingerbreadoutofstock @subtaegguk
1K notes · View notes
ginax0916 · 2 months
Text
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°‧★ 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 ★‧°
Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader
Genre: Angst & fluff
Synopsis: What happens when they’re both jealous with feelings for each other, but won’t admit it?
(It starts off with texts but it’s a regular story after)
༺☆༻
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༺☆༻
Y/n pov:
Why does he care so much? It’s not even like we’re dating. Plus he brings girls over all the time why’s it such a big deal that I have a date. It’s like he’s purposely saying all these bad things about him so I’ll cancel the date. I truly don’t get what he means, Jason is a nice guy every girl simps over him. Not to mention he’s captain of the football team. But I mean what can go wrong, we’re just going out to dinner then coming back to my place and there, done.
But part of me feels regret. I don’t know why but I feel regret for not listing to Matt now that Jason is only 5 minutes away. What if he’s right? What if he really is just putting an act on to get into my pants? No he would never. Matt’s just jealous and trying to scare me. After all we’re just roommates.
*knock knock*
Oh fuck. Jason’s here. Suddenly my nerves are increasing. My hands are sweaty and my dress is too tight. What the fuck do I do.
“Hey Jason”
“Hey pretty, you read to go?” He says. But for some reason it feels weird when he says it.
“Uh yea let me just grab my coat” I say as I walk to my bedroom and put it on. Before I walk out I see myself in the mirror. Is the dress too short? Too slutty? Suddenly I’m overthinking everything.
“Ok let’s go” I saw as I walk back to him.
“You look beautiful by the way” Jason says. Yet it still feels weird.
“Thank you. You look good too” I say trying to convince myself that he does.
We get in the car and he starts driving, about 5 minutes into the car ride I feel his hand creep onto my knee. And it keeps moving up till it rests on my inner thigh. I wanna push his hand off but I don’t want to be rude.
“Is that fine?” He asks.
“Uh yea” I could’ve said fucking no.
The rest of the ride is filled with an awkward and uncomfortable silence.
The whole dinner was extremely awkward. We barely agreed on anything and he kept making weird comments about how good my body looked in the dress. I just wanted to be done with it and go home.
“You read to go?” Jason asked. Fuck yes I am.
“Yea let’s go” I say.
Gladly he payed for the dinner which was nice of him, but it still doesn’t change the fact that the night was extremely uncomfortable.
We get in the car and I expect him to turn it on but he doesn’t.
“Are you gonna turn it on?” I ask trying to sound as nice as possible.
“You look so pretty” He says as he puts his hand on my thigh, too far up for my liking.
“Oh uh thanks” I saw trying to move away from him.
“That dress makes you look so good” Jason mumbles as he gets closer to me.
“I bet it would look even better if it was on the floor”
“Wha-” I get cut off my his lips on mine.
“What the fuck” I raise my voice as I push him off of me.
“Come on don’t be a brat” He grabs my face and attempts to kiss me again.
“Get the fuck off me” I scream as I try to unbuckle my self.
“I said don’t be a fucking brat” Jason raises his voice as he grabs my body and tries to pull me over to his side of the car.
“I said get off me you jackass!” I scream and I push him hard enough so he lets go and I get out of the car.
As I’m walking away from the car I hear the engine start and before I can move away he drives by me speeding through the puddle that was on the ground, making it splash all over me.
“You’re fucking kidding”
I sit on the curve of the parking lot, soaking wet in disgusting water and pull out my phone to text the one person who warned me this was going to happen.
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He’s gonna kill me.
I stay here where he told me freezing because of the water and my jacket is soaked so it’s not much use. But soon enough I see Matt’s car pull up in front of me.
“Oh baby what happened? Why are you soaking wet” Matt says the second he gets out of the car.
“You were right. I should’ve listened I’m sorry” I sniffle as I feel tears swell up in my eyes.
“Hey hey it’s ok don’t cry. You did nothing wrong” He says while wrapping his arms around me holding me close.
“But you warned me and I was bitch and didn’t listen” I start to cry, keeping my head on Matt’s chest.
“No you’re not a bitch. You just made a mistake and now you can learn from it yea? You didn’t know this was gonna happen don’t bring yourself down for it” He comforts me.
“Here put this on and I’ll take you home and then you can tell me everything that happened how does that sound?” Matt asks as he wraps his coat around me.
“Mhm yea” I nod.
“Come on let’s go sweets I don’t want you to get sick” He grabs my hand helping me get up and we get into the car.
Instead of there being an awkward silence, there’s a comforting silence.
I look over to Matt and I feel butterflies in my stomach. The way the moonlight shines through the window lighting his face up. The way his blue eyes reflect the stars in the sky. The way his jawline is so sharp and defined and his cheekbones more prominent than ever. The way his nose compliments his face oh so well. I shouldn’t be having these thoughts about my roommate, it’s not right.
But what if I don’t wanna be just roommates with Matt anymore?
Should I make a part 2 for this or no??
557 notes · View notes
slut4thebroken · 7 months
Text
Nymphomania
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jonathan Crane x patient!reader
Summary | You been trying for months to get Dr. Crane to give in. After a bold attempt, he finally breaks.
Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, smut, age gap, doctor/patient relationship?, mentions of murder, reader is so horny and we’re here for it, degradation, humiliation, face fucking, deep throating, rough oral sex, slight dubcon? but only because he’s “reluctant”, filthy nasty disgusting oral sex😭
Words | 2.6 k
Notes | He’s about 38 in this fyi. Also I already have an idea for a second part but it’s not even started so don’t expect it any time soon lol
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
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Dr. Crane has been your psychiatrist for several months now. Ever since your first session, you’ve been completely smitten and you were never shy about showing it. At first he was uncomfortable with your forwardness and flirty behavior, but he quickly learned to just ignore it… and most of the time he’s successful. But every once in a while you’ll say something particularly bold and he’ll reprimand you with a blush. 
Today was no different. You were brought to the usual room where your sessions take place and you waited eagerly for him to arrive. When the door finally opened and he walked in, you perked up, a giddy smile making its way on your face. 
“How are you today?” He asked as he set down his things, then sat across from you. 
“Better now that you’re here.” You put your elbow on the table and rested your chin on your hand, staring up at him through your lashes. “How are you?”
“Busy. Shall we get started?” The dismissal was not lost on you… but you’ve never been one to cooperate. 
“You sound stressed, doctor. Maybe I can help you relax?” You purred, slowly extending your leg to brush your foot over his shin, sliding it up. He pushed your foot back down, then moved his chair back a little as he cleared his throat.
“Behave.” He warned, making your lips curl up into a smirk.
“For you? Always.” He scoffed at that, but he can’t blame you for not behaving. Not when it’s not even your fault. “It’s not my fault I act like this.” You said defensively.
“No?”  
“I wouldn’t be so needy if you’d just help me out every once in a while.” You whined, giving him puppy dog eyes. 
“I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of taking care of that yourself.” 
“I don’t like doing it myself, it’s not the same. Need you, doctor.” Your gaze shifted to his lips before settling on his hands, examining the veins leading up into his arms, covered by his suit. You wished the table wasn’t here so you could see all of him though. 
“Need your cock.” You suddenly looked at his eyes again and the only indication you got that he was affected by your words was the slight bob of his throat as he swallowed. “Please, Dr. Crane.” You pouted, leaning forward a little, wishing your top was lower to help you out. 
“If you need to be fucked so bad, you shouldn’t have killed four people and gotten yourself stuck in here.” He said, sounding almost bored. 
“I didn’t kill people, I killed men.” You said, now much more annoyed, but quickly brought your tone back to something sweeter. “And I guess I just thought at least one hot guy in here would be willing to fuck me. I didn’t plan on having my options completely limited to you.” 
“How are they limited?” 
“Because I don’t want anyone else! I just want you. And I can tell you feel the same, you’re just too obsessed with your job to act on it.” You frowned. He took in a deep breath through his nose and looked away from you as he thought. 
“Come here.” He suddenly said, leaning forward while beckoning you to do the same. Once you were leaned over the table slightly, you let your eyes fall to his lips as you waited for his next move. “My job isn't the issue. It’s the fact that you’re a criminally insane little girl.” He said lowly, making you press your thighs together as you squirmed. 
“I'm 20.” You defended weakly. 
“Exactly. I was already a legal adult when you were born.” 
“So? That just makes it hotter.” You said quietly, then bit your lip, staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes. He didn’t respond and you tried not to shrink under his gaze. After another moment you sighed and leaned back, his eyes following every movement carefully. When you pushed your chair back, he stiffened. 
“What are you doing?” You slid down the chair to the floor, then crawled under the table. He started moving his chair back so you grabbed the legs to keep it in place. Because of his attempt to get away from you, you now had enough room to get out from under the table, but the space between it and the chair was small enough that your shoulders pressed against his spread legs. 
“Please? I need your cock, Dr. Crane.” You pouted, placing your hands on his thighs and snaking them up. “I’ve been thinking about it every day for months. Please let me have a taste.” You did your best to hide your smirk as you stared up at him through your lashes. When you suddenly leaned forward and started mouthing at his cock through his clothing, he roughly grabbed your hair, making you whine and work even harder. 
“Insatiable little slut.” He spat, wrenching your head back uncomfortably so that you were looking up at him again. Since you couldn’t use your mouth, you placed a hand on his bulge, making his grip on your hair tighten. You couldn’t help the open-mouthed smile that crept up on your face at the rough treatment. That seemed to only make him angrier though. 
“Hands behind your back.” He ordered. You smirked and glanced down at your hand on his bulge, debating if you wanted to be a brat or not. When his grip got impossibly tighter, you released him and placed your hands behind yourself. You had a feeling that he would end up giving you what you want. 
“You go a few months without it and turn into a cock hungry whore,” You moaned and squeezed your thighs together, looking up at him with a glint in your eyes. “Like a fucking bitch in heat.” He spat. 
“Please, Dr. Crane.” You said through a moan. “Please, I need it.” Your gaze shifted between his face and his crotch hungrily. 
“Stop talking.” He hissed. 
“If you want me to shut up, you know what to do.” You smirked at him and he clenched his jaw, letting out a heavy breath through his nose. He seemed to be debating what to do— torn between not wanting to give you what you want and finally shutting you up. 
“Take it out.” He ordered. You don’t think your hands have ever moved faster. They immediately shot out and started working on his belt, then the button, and finally the zipper. When his cock was finally free, you let out a low moan and tried to lean forward, but he stopped you with the hand in your hair. “Hands behind your back.” You whined but obeyed and he pulled you closer, using his free hand to fist his cock. You could smell him now and you knew that he could feel your panting breaths with how close you were. 
“Please.” You mewled, shuffling closer. 
“Move your hands and we’re done. Understand?” He warned. You didn’t know if he meant done right now, or done for good and you’ll be assigned to someone else, but both options sounded terrible. 
“Yes, doctor.” You stared up at him through your lashes with wide, innocent eyes, silently pleading him to give you what you want. 
He relented and pulled your head down as your mouth fell open, eagerly anticipating what you’ve been craving since you first arrived here. When you finally wrapped your lips around the tip, you moaned loudly at the taste and let your eyes flutter shut. You flicked your tongue over it, lapping up what little precum there was, then tried to swallow him down deeper. He stopped you with the hand in your hair and you let out a long, needy whine. 
“Don’t be a brat.” You blushed at the tone he used to scold you, feeling like a child. You obeyed with a pout and mouthed at the tip of his cock, clasping your hands together so they wouldn’t subconsciously move from your back. 
He started pushing you down, then back up, agonizingly slow. When you looked up at him again, he cursed under his breath and started moving you a little faster. You hollowed your cheeks and pressed your tongue against the underside of his cock, trying hard to impress him and earn his praise. But all you got was a soft sigh. 
You whined, wanting to pull off so you could beg for more. He just shushed you and kept up the slow pace of shallow thrusts. 
“Please.” You tried to say around him, the word coming out garbled and almost incoherent. 
“What, this isn’t enough for you?” He suddenly pulled you off and you panted as you caught your breath. 
“Fuck my throat.” You gasped out, cheeks heating up. “Please.” You added so it didn’t seem like a demand. He pushed you back down, resuming the original pace. 
“I’m surprised it took murder for them to put you in here. I would’ve thought it’d be nymphomania.” You moaned at the subtle degradation and squeezed your thighs together, aching to reach a hand between your legs. He finally sped up, but kept his thrusts shallow, barely even brushing the back of your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked harder, trying to make it even better. “That’s it… Put that mouth to good use for once.” You didn’t let the insult deter you. 
He suddenly forced you all the way down and you choked, not expecting it. Holding your hair tight enough to make your head throb, he kept you there, his cock buried so deep that your nose was against his pelvis. With the lack of air and the pressure on your gag reflex, your eyes were watering and you looked up at him with a muffled whimper, making him curse under his breath. 
“Don’t tell me you’re gonna cry? I thought you wanted this?” He sneered, making you whine. He pulled you back until just the tip was in your mouth and let you take in a deep breath before shoving you back down. Rather than holding you there, he started bobbing your head up and down his cock, breaching your throat barrier each time. You couldn’t help the way you gagged and choked, but you didn’t dare try to pull away. 
“I thought a whore like yourself would’ve been good at this.” He said, disappointed. Your brows furrowed, not able to express your frown any other way. When he removed his hands, your expression turned into one of confusion. “Go ahead, nympho. Prove that you deserve to suck my cock.” You moaned around him, but quickly stepped up to the challenge. 
You were moving much slower than he was, choking each time you forced yourself all the way down, but determined not to give up. When you looked up at him, he almost seemed bored as he watched you. You pulled off and he raised his brows in a silent question. 
“Can I please use my hands?” You asked quietly, voice already hoarse. 
“No.” With a pout, you shuffled closer and leaned down, this time aiming for his balls. His spit soaked cock rested on your face, furthering your humiliation and arousal. You licked at them before sucking one into your mouth, making him let out a pleased sigh. You worked it over in your mouth for a few seconds before moving to the other one to do the same. 
You licked up along the underside of his cock with a small smirk— he was practically pulsing because of how hard he was. When you reached the tip, you licked up the precum with a low moan, then took him back in your mouth, immediately going all the way down. 
He let you control the pace for a few more thrusts before grabbing your hair again and speeding up. When he let out a low groan, you quickly looked up to see his face, finding him with his lips slightly parted and his eyes half lidded and he stared down at you. He forced you all the way down, then held you there, and you whimpered around him, trying to control your gag reflex. 
“Lick my balls.” You furrowed your brows, still looking up at him, and he all but rolled his eyes. “Fucking lick them.” He spat, jerking your head down even though your lips were already at the base. You stuck your tongue out and tried to obey, making him groan. 
“There you go…” He placed both hands on the sides of your head for a better grip, then started roughly pulling you up and down. You choked and sputtered, but his grip was unmoving. “Fuck— Keep this up and I might just let this happen again.” He said through a breath, making your stomach flutter at the thought. 
He continued using your mouth practically as a fleshlight, ignoring your gagging and muffled sounds, focusing solely on his orgasm. After what felt like minutes but was probably just seconds, you felt your body start to try and pull away from the brutal attack on your throat. Even though your mind didn’t want you to, your body was panicking. His moans grew louder and you begged your body to endure just a little longer, needing him to come down your throat. 
“Stop fucking fighting it, bitch. You wanted this, so take it.” He growled, moving you faster and pushing you down harder. Your eyes burned with tears and it wasn’t long before they started falling, making him even more frenzied and desperate. His hips were bucking into you now as he forced your head up and down his cock, barely pulling you back more than halfway. 
After only a few more thrusts, he forced you all the way down with a low groan, using both hands to keep you there with your nose buried in his pelvis. His hips would occasionally buck into you as he rode out his orgasm. You moaned at the feeling of his come hitting your throat, but wished you could taste him too. Once his cock stopped twitching and his sounds died down, he finally loosened his grip enough to let you pull back and you coughed almost violently as he panted. 
“Satisfied?” He asked through a breath, looking down at you. 
“For now.” You smirked, but batted your eyes at him innocently. He released your hair and you frowned, but didn’t protest any further. 
“Clean it.” He ordered and you eagerly dove back in to lick at his softening cock. You were more just enjoying tasting him rather than cleaning up all of your spit… which he seemed to notice. “I said, clean it.” You looked up at him, but when you were met with a warning glare, you just huffed and did as he said, licking his cock and balls to clean him as much as possible. “Put it back now.” Despite the fact that you wanted nothing more than to do the opposite, you tucked his softening cock back in his pants and fastened them before buckling his belt. 
“Good.” Your heart practically stopped at the sudden praise. “Sit back down.” You frowned, but obeyed, waiting for the next command. “Trust that if you touch yourself before our next session, I will know, and I will have someone else take over as your psychiatrist. Do you understand?” Your frown deepened as a needy whine left you and he raised his brows in response, challenging you, making you huff. 
“Yes..” You muttered, looking at the table as you slouched in your chair, sulking. The next few days are going to be absolute torture. 
Taglist (join here)
@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @faebirdie @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @bluujaiwrites (didn’t let me tag ->) @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @idkdudsworld
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akutopia · 2 months
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I WANNA RIDE! osamu dazai x afab reader ⋆𐙚₊˚
dom dazai, slight sadism, dacryphilia, slight degradation, condescending but sweet dazai, size kink, sub reader!
NSFW CONTENT 17+!
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“don’t hurt yourself, pretty”
chuckled dazai, the pupils of his eyes expanding slightly as he watches the sight in front of him; you and your weak attempt to ride him.
your hips stutter forward, unsure of what to do. you let out a whimper of embarrassment, shaky fingers wrapping around his cock. with an exhale, dazai smiled before he cooed.
“such a feeble thing you are..”
he laughed, brushing a strand of hair away from your flushed face.
“my, my.. too shy to put it in, huh? no need to act like a prude.. you’re the one that's always asking for more..”
“osamu!”
you whined, lightly hitting his chest with your fist. he was doing this on purpose, and you knew that. it was another scheme of his he had plotted— trying to make you take some sort of initiative because: did he love it when you were so uncomfortable, so nervous because he’d always fuck you without you having to plead.
dazai was surprisingly a gentlemen. he knew your pretty body was so sensitive, so tender. he’s spent time studying: he had known when you were needy, needy for him.
he spoiled you greatly. so even with your whines and pouty looks, dazai knew you were needy enough to try to ride him.
“osamu!”
you call out again, lip trembling. satisfaction takes over him, and he’s quick to wrap his arms around you with a smile, pulling you in
“want me that bad, darling?”
you nod against his neck with a sniffle, trembling legs struggling to hold yourself above his length.
“you’re bein’ so mean, samu..”
you soft mutters bring a lovesick expression to his face. god, he really was a fallen man.. a bandaged hand travels to lightly brush over the bud of your chest, making you squirm.
“m’ sorry, pretty. guess you can’t help being a slut for me”
he spoke with his lips curled up. and in response, you can only protest with a small sound. and yet, impatience becomes you. you’ve reached a point beyond embarrassment to where you drop yourself directly on his cock.
you squeal, gasping upon the not so sudden intrusion. even with thin and calloused fingers that previously opened you up, you’re always taken aback by how well he fills you up.
“s-samu.. it’s so… t-too big—”
you choked out with a whimper, tears welling up in your eyes. and yet you look up to meet your lover’s gaze, wanting to shift your hips for more stimulation.
dazai groans, thumb reaching up to brush away your pretty tears. his lips are quick to press against the temple of your cheek before he nods.
“it’s too big? now, now. you can take it. take it for me, darling”
✷  .₊𓂋‎
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scarletlizzard · 2 months
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thinking abt older sisters bsf! nat 🤭
your sister being wanda, and nat is obviously her best friend. wanda is always protective with you but since you both grew up with nat she could easily slip through the gaps.
her and wanda would always come home as a pair when they did, you chose to live with your parents while you attendees a smaller local college.
the first time natasha fucked you she snuck off away from wanda while she was sleeping, she’d find you still awake probably studying. she begged you to stop for a bit and come hangout with her.
you two would be cuddled up in your bed watching something, her hand would slowly roam your body.
you’d share a small kiss that would lead to her fucking you into your mattress. 🤭🤭🤭
every time wanda and your parents would go out to do something, natasha would make up some excuse not to go and she’d stay and fuck you the whole time they were gone.
ugh i love this so much 😵‍💫😵‍💫
Oh okay so this is what we're rocking with today? Cause yeah anon, you've hooked me!! 😌😳
A few thoughts on that if I may ✍️
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The first time she snuck in your room, she convinced you to watch a movie with her. It started out innocently at first. After all, this was something you would regularly do, but usually not with just the two of you. As you watched the screen, her hand rested on your thigh, caressing the skin. It would inch up closer, painfully slow, and you couldn't deny the ache in your lower stomach building. Your thighs pressed together tightly.
"What's the matter sweetheart?"
With a smirk on her lips, forcing you to tell her how bad you needed her. How you wanted her to make you feel good. She kissed you softly at first, savoring the way your lips tasted, wanting to relish the feeling of your first kiss. Natasha would waste no time after that, knowing at any moment the two of you could be caught.
"You're taking me so well, fuck, this pussy was made for me."
"Shh, sweetheart, you have to be quiet. Don't want to wake anybody up, do you?"
"I know you love it.. the idea that someone could walk in right now and see you being fucked like a slut."
"That's it, baby, that's it. Give me everything. Shh, just one more, one more time."
The two of you spent the night tangled in your sheets, Natasha drawing out orgasm after orgasm from you. She left you a whining, whimpering mess, to the point you couldn't even speak.
She cuddled you until you fell asleep, but when you awoke, she was gone. You went slowly down the stairs, seeing your sister and her best friend eating breakfast at the table. You sat next to Wanda, trying to act as if nothing had happened.
After that night, she spent every minute she could in your presence, coming up with every excuse she could think of to stay home with you. The second the car rolled out of the driveway, she would be on top of you, her hands slipping into your panties wherever you were. She would fuck you for as long as she could whether it be ten minutes or two hours.
One evening, she had you on the couch, enjoying the squirming mess that you were underneath her. Your moans filled the room, along with the sinful sounds of her fucking you.
"That's it pretty girl, just like that. Let me hear those pretty moans."
Because any time you were alone, she wanted to hear those broken cries of pleasure, your name leaving your soft pink lips. But as you moaned her name, the familiar sound of the front door unlocking sent a shock of panic through your both your minds.
The two of you tried to part as quickly as possible, but as Wanda walked in, she could see what she had interrupted. The bag she held dropped, and anger was written on her face as she took in the sight before her: the two of you panting, breathlessly. Natasha was still pulling her shirt over her head while you attempted to put on your sweatpants. Both of you had red and puffy lips. A purple bruise was still fresh on your neck, and your hair was wild.
Wanda looked to you and the to Natasha, her fists clenching at her side as she stepped further into the living room.
"What the fu-"
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fushigurro · 6 months
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𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𝗫 𝗙!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / unprotected piv / noncon creampie, breeding + mentions of pregnancy / dom/sub dynamics / petnames (good girl, baby, sweetheart) / biting
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“c’mon, be a good girl and let me cum inside this pretty pussy.”
he tries to persuade you as though he hadn't earlier promised that he would pull out, that he wouldn't attempt to sway you from your position of not being willing to take the risk and let him finish inside.
you vigorously shake your head and hum in disagreement at his proposal. toji's a dirty fucking liar but you somehow still find it in yourself to love him, to allow him to slide into you completely raw, knees almost up to your chest as he fucks you into the mattress because he has two different types of holds on you.
“aww, why not, sweetheart? you don’t want me to fill up that sweet little belly?" he punctuates every sentence with a heavy thrust, voice a malicious tease in your ear paired with an equally selfish grin. but then he moves to hold your gaze with a commanding intensity. "gimme fuckin’ words, baby. i need words.”
you gulp and gasp for air, his hips stopping long enough to allow you a moment to breathe. “i don’t want a baby.”
toji offers an amused scoff at your response. “yeah? s'that right?" he's convinced that a part of you is lying and that you wouldn't even think of letting him fuck you raw if something about the risk didn't appeal to you. "too afraid to be a mommy for my babies?"
those words ignite a flame of anxiety within you, but curiously enough also make you clench around him as he picks up the pace a little, holding back a growl as his fantasies wrack his brain.
"s’too bad," he says, tone growing more serious, "i think you’d be pretty good at it, even if you act like a brat yourself half the time.”
it almost doesn't sound like he's joking anymore, but how could he not be? there's no way toji could truly want a child—he can't even afford one, but all the possibilities make your thoughts go muddy and incomprehensible. you simply turn your head to the side to avoid looking at him straight on, flustered and overstimulated from previous orgasms, but he uses a strong hand to grab your cheeks and steer you back in the right direction.
“what the hell did i just say about using your words, huh? you better fuckin’ speak up or i’m breeding this tight little cunt right now." it almost seems as though he's offering you a choice with his hips speeding up and wrecking your insides like this. he's in control, but he's desperate, sweat beading along his forehead as he chuckles breathlessly. "hell, i might do it anyways with you suckin’ me in so good.”
gasping, your eyes go wide. “no, no, no!” you meekly protest, but it's too late—he pins your wrists to the bed and angles his hips to more accurately hit your deepest points, cock driving into you with even more purpose now.
“shit…” he curses and feels himself start to lose his composure, quickly slamming into you a few more times before halting balls deep and twitching his release out inside you. the hot, fresh surges of cum warm your womb as he stays rooted in place, determined to force his seed as deep as it can possibly go. in his mind, that’ll only make it easier for it to take and bring his current vision to fruition: you round and full with a baby that’s undoubtedly his. this is the image that flashes through his mind and makes his cock pulse with an orgasm that’s nearly paralyzing, teeth biting into the flesh of your neck like you're the pretty animal he's just claimed and mated.
once the storm has settled, his hot tongue licks over the mark in your skin to soothe it followed by a kiss and one more slow roll of his hips for good measure. "that's a good girl," the large pad of his thumb brushes the tears from your lashes as if he isn't the one who caused them. his hand is a little rough but still affectionate as it grips your face again and forces you into a possessive kiss.
toji pulls out of you with a wet squelch and a shit-eating grin. "gotta fight back a little better next time if you don't want me to get you pregnant."
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cursedhaglette · 4 months
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Thrice Before Dawn
She thought he was having a nightmare, so naturally, she thought she was helping. Opening the tent flap, she's surprised to find something entirely unexpected.
Rating: E Word Count: 2,900 Content: 18+, oral sex, PIV sex, male masturbation, squirting
[ao3 link]
Halia takes last watch, preparing to guard over the camp until dawn breaks over the horizon, sketchbook in hand. It’s been ages since she’d been able to take the time to draw or journal, either tied up in other things that needed doing while she kept watch or simply too exhausted to do anything but stare off into the darkness. 
She opens the book to where she’d left off, finding the page she’d marked to be the one she’d filled with sketches of Astarion. She can’t help her cringe as she looks over her work. It’s not bad by any means, as far as her ruined mind can tell, but since they’d spent the night together out in the forest a tenday ago, things between them had grown strange and tense. 
Gone was the playful flirtation, the long, charged stares, and the touches that lingered just a bit longer than could be called casual. She kept telling herself it was fine, he wasn’t obligated to want her just because they’d slept together. Though, truth be told, she very much wanted to repeat the experience - she wanted him to like her, to want her, more than she felt she should. 
Blasted, handsome vampire. 
Sighing to herself, she turns the page, trying to think if anything notable had occurred in the last couple days that might be worth jotting down. The same thing day after day, fights and hiking and threats of death or the end of the world. At least they were almost to the creche, which might prove interesting or different.
Across camp, she hears a muffled groan and she snaps up at the sound. Scanning the tents surrounding the dying embers of the campfire, she tries to make out if anything is out there - hunting them in the darkness.. 
There is…nothing to be seen though. Only darkness and then - a grunt followed by something almost like a muffled whimper. 
Halia stands, tip-toeing across camp and approaching each tent, praying that without her usual armor and robes she can stay quiet enough to catch whatever had snuck up on them before it caught onto her. At least everyone was nearby to aid her, should it be something truly deadly. 
She doesn’t hear anything again until she finds herself before the last tent - Astarion’s. Then there’s rustling sounds, and another groan almost like he might be…dreaming? Or rather, having a nightmare, she guessed. It wouldn’t be the first time hearing him toss and turn, tortured by the memories of his awful past even while trancing. 
Is it appropriate to check on him? They’ve gotten to know each other well enough and she hardly wants him to suffer through whatever was going on in his trance, but she knows he can sensitive to such vulnerabilities. 
Biting her lip and bouncing on her heels, she tries to decide what she ought to do, and then there’s another muffled groan and acts.
The tent flap swings wide, held open by her hand, and time seems to slow. It wasn’t what she’d expected to find - Astarion tortured by a nightmare, curled on his side and whimpering for her to wake him from the horrors. 
He lays flat on his back, one hand pressing into his forehead and something in his mouth, an attempt to muffle the noise he was making, if Halia had to guess. His shirt was pulled up enough to reveal part of his chiseled torso, but her eyes didn’t linger there.
He was fucking up into his hand, his hips thrusting eagerly and cock weeping pre-cum that glistened in the low light creeping in through the open tent flap. She’s seen it before but like this, Gods, it was like a work of art.
He’s suckling on a rag, which Halia realizes quickly was bloody and - Gods, was that what she’d used to clean up her bloody wound from the fight earlier in the day? How had he…?
She can't move - entirely transfixed as she watches his muscles flexing into another hip thrust, the curve of his glutes visibly working even in the low light. Her breath catches in her throat and she’s trying to process the immediate want that heats her blood at the sight before her, catches his attention and finally, Astarion turns to look.
His ruby eyes widen as he looks over his favorite warlock, and then he smirks, studying how she blushes while he lazily strokes his cock once more - holding her gaze as he works his precum around his shaft. 
“Fuck, oh Gods, I’m so sorry,” Halia mumbles, finally turning away before she can stare any longer, and manages to shut the tent flap with all the urgency she could muster before hurrying away. She wants to stay, of course she does. She wants to watch and taste and touch and moan with him. But if he wants that, she knows she would have been invited. 
“Leaving so soon?”
Halia half turns at the question, already several paces from his tent and thinking of a million ways to apologize for her intrusion but coming up short. He catches her quickly and holds his loose trousers up in one hand, the other snaking around her middle and holding her fast against him. His cold hand sends a chill through her skin, still warm from the fire and encouraging that blazing want that’s settled in her core at the sight of him so unguarded - alone, whimpering, eager. 
“Didn’t enjoy the show, darling?” The question is pressed into her neck, and she knows he delights in the goosebumps that immediately appear under his cool breath. 
“I’m sorry,” she whispers without turning to face him. “I thought you might be having a nightmare or…I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“And you didn’t think to wait and make sure I was alright?” He tuts in her ear, his mouth so close she can feel the way it curls into a smile. “So cruel.”
She took in a deep inhale of breath, unsure of what to do with herself as his hand tightened around her waist, tugging her closer to him. He’s still hard, despite his cock being stowed in his trousers, and Halia has to resist the wanton urge to grind against him in the middle of the still sleeping camp. 
“Perhaps you’d like to come help me…get back to sleep,” he murmurs before taking one earlobe between his teeth and nipping gently. His hand crests lower, teasing the waistline of her loose camp pants and moving so slowly towards where he knows she wants him.
“Only -” she pauses as he kisses her neck, humming in approval as his hand dips lower, finally touching at her core. She knows she’s already soaked, the sight of him fucking into his own hand, cock glistening with precum, had immediately drenched her. Now Astarion knows it too. 
“Only if you want me,” Halia stammers, biting her lip as a single, cold finger dances across her clit. 
“Oh my dear, I believe you’ve already seen how badly I want you tonight,” a second finger joins the first, rubbing agonizingly slow circles against her. Astarion huffs a smug laugh as she bites her lip, holding back a whimper of desperation and pleasure. “Come with me.”
And then, Astarion’s hands are gone - a hollow ache left where he’d been. She can’t help but follow him back to his tent, called by the pleasure she knows can be found within. The mess of blankets and open books welcome her, as does the smell of him - earth and spice and whatever perfumed oil he uses to make his skin smell like heaven made flesh. 
The flap drops behind Astarion as he moves and kneels before her, and the space goes dark, but she doesn't need any light as his hands move to the laces of her pants. He makes quick work of them and then her legs are bare and he’s teasing, and Halia knows it - knows he wants her to beg for more, for his touch or his tongue. 
“My golden, little bird,” he purrs as he nears her center, finally calling out how soaked she’s been for him since the first touch. “Look at you, such a mess. Is this all for me? All from your spying?”
Halia has to force herself not to give in to her nerves, not to wrap her arms around her waist or cover her face to hide her slowly growing blush - knowing it will only make him more smug. He likes her shameless, knowing he can pull that side of her out with each touch as she grows more desperate. 
“I wasn’t -” he presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh, humming in approval when she gasps in response, her argument lost at the feeling of his lips drifting higher and higher. 
He pulls her panties down finally, one swift movement freeing her pussy for him, but he continues teasing along the edge of where real pleasure would be found and Gods if he doesn’t touch her again soon, she’s going to be reduced to begging. 
And she really doesn’t want to have to beg, it will only mean far too much smugness to deal with tomorrow if she does.
“Lay down,” he commands. When Halia does, he finally descends upon her, ready to feast. 
Astarion draws the flat his tongue up her core slowly at first, and once he reaches her clit, he pauses to softly suck and kiss at the swollen bud before licking up her again. It’s simultaneously everything and not enough, her hips rolling up as she seeks more from his practiced, wicked mouth. Each soft kiss has her whimpering, and finally he indulges her fully, sucking herr pulsing, ready clit into his mouth and plunging two fingers inside, spreading and filling her.
She desperately wants to fuck herself on his fingers, but his other hand holds fast to her hips to keep her in place while his hand continues slowly, testing how she stretches around him while his tongue dances up and down along her folds.
“If I’d known how greedy you’d be for me, I’d have you like this every night,” Halia hears in her mind, his voice echoing through the tadpole so he can taunt and tease without removing his mouth from her cunt. “I’m going to have you begging for more before I finally take you.”
“Oh Gods,” she moans, his words adding to the intensity building in her core. She can feel it building, his tongue the spark to the kindling of her want.
Astarion huffs a laugh against her soaked cunt as he curls his fingers inside her, finding a spot she’s never had stroked before and immediately makes her squirm. Halia’s legs twitch, wanting to close at the intensity of the sensation, but Astarion’s broad shoulders keep her from moving too far. 
“Keep these spread,” he chides, picking up speed. And then she’s lost in her release, covering her mouth with one hand to stifle the primal, desperate moan that tears through her chest as her body clenches around his hand. A gush comes as she rides out her climax, soaking his wicked mouth and the blankets below her. 
She’s never experienced such intense pleasure, never been so wet, but cumming so hard for him only leaves her mindless and unable to be bashful about what’s just happened. Her body just wants more, aching for the stretch of his cock and to feel the heat of his pleasure inside her.
“Good girl,” he tells her, pulling his mouth away. He wipes away the shine of her squirting release with one hand, the other firmly in place as his thumb circles her sensitive clit and fingers continue to work inside. “Can you give me a little more? Can you soak my hand again before I fuck you?”
“I want you to fuck me now,” Halia pleads, her voice thick with want and almost whining for him, every trace of resolve not to act desperate for him gone in the wake of her climax. 
“Then cum for me again, sweet thing, and you can have your fill of me.”
His thumb presses into her harder and she sees stars, the intensity of the feeling earning him a deep, guttural moan that he chuckles at. His fingers keep working inside her, and Halia can only watch as he reaches for the rag he’d used to muffle his moans and presses it into her mouth. 
“Bite down on this, love, we don’t want you waking up the whole camp, do we? I don’t intend to share your pleasure with anyone else.”
Before Halia can protest, his fingers find the rhythm she needs and her body crashes again, soaking him just as he’d asked while he continues to finger her through the peak of her pleasure. He only pulls his hand away once she’s finished clenching around him, trying to catch her breath and watching as he lifts his soaked fingers to his mouth.
He sucks her cum off himself as he undoes his pants with his other hand, groaning around the taste of her while his cock springs free. It’s still desperately hard, soaked in precum and actively leaking more. Any other night, she might have asked to taste it - to lick every drop of his precum clean and have him fuck into her mouth with abandon.She wants his hips rolling into her throat just like she’d seen him fucking into his hand. 
“Now, what was it you wanted?” he asks smugly, nudging her legs apart further and smiling at the mess he’s made. He rolls the sheath of his cock, smearing the precum as he prepared himself to fuck her. 
“I warn you, darling, I was close before you showed up the first time so I don’t know how long I’ll -” his words are quickly cut off by his own groan as the head of his heavy cock finally begins to stretch her, and Halia’s warmth welcomes him wholly.
They whimper together as he finally pushes inside, and she watches as his eyes close in pleasure, her body working to take him while he slowly presses into her. He pulls away once, twice, and then slides home, burying himself to the hilt - both of them gasping in unison at the feeling.  
Lewd, soaked sounds filled the tent with each thrust of his cock within her warm walls, hands roughly guiding her hips and core along his cock. He rips the rag from between her teeth, replacing it with a deep, bruising kiss before taking her tongue in his mouth and sucking on it.
“Fuck, Halia, it’s like you were made to take me,” Astarion says, pulling away from her lips but reaching forward to take one nipple between his fingers and twisting enough to make her clench around him, earning her a satisfied huff. 
“Please,” she whines, closer to oblivion with every passing moment that he spends inside her,  “please, more, more -”
His hips roll harder, each slam driving deeper into her and she sees stars, unsure if she’ll be able to walk again after he’s done with her. She knows she isn’t technically his, but if he asked her in that moment, she’d give him everything - entirely undone by the pleasure he’s offered her.
“So greedy for me,” he repeats with a moan, still trying to play the rake though so close to the edge himself. “My good girl, my sweet Halia, my -”
He spills inside her with a grunt before he can finish his last thought, and the abrupt warmth of him filling her is enough to send her shuddering into one final, blissful climax - milking the last few seconds of his spend deeper within her.
She pants for a moment and he nearly collapses on her, shifting to one side before reaching for the rag. He doesn’t look as he wipes at what remains of their joining on his skin, and ruby eyes meet hers in a contended gaze she’s only seen a handful of times. If her heart weren’t already racing, it would be the moment he looked at her that way. 
Dawn is on the horizon by the time Halia makes her way from the soaked bedroll and the perfect lover within, and she desperately works to calm her still thundering heart. Her knees wobble and she’s going to be sore all day, but by the Gods does she feel alive. 
She’s going to fall for him if she’s not careful - throw herself headlong into something she knows he won’t want. Even still, she can’t bring herself to regret what they’d done. She’s going to fall into the trap that is Astarion and it’s going to tear her apart and then he’s going to have her begging for more, just because he can. 
And then footsteps sound behind her and he’s there, kissing her cheek softly. 
“Come on, we should clean up before anyone wakes up,” Astarion says quietly, and she spots his blanket under his arm. 
“That was…nice,” Halia says simply, smiling at him. “Fun.”
“It’s hard not to have fun with you,” he says in return, and there’s no performance in his words. Just honesty. 
It’s the first time Halia ends her watch feeling so content. 
In fact, it might be one of the best mornings she can remember.
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joonipertree · 5 months
Note
idea for the Boxer!Katsuki and Artist!Reader AU! What if, ON TOP OF a rly bad day w college and being overwhelmed w work, we lost our paints :( n we luv our paints so we cry, but katsuki’s there to make us feel better and get us a new set :3
Thank you so fucking much for this. Idk if you knew but I'm actually making a portfolio for art school and Ive been crying every other night because of how stressed I am and how much I feel like I'm a bad artist. So writing this was cathartic
Part 1, Part 2
Tags: Dom/sub undertones, reader acting out and Bakugo being stern, a peak of what kind of shit I want with older men hsjsjsj, fluff, hurt/comfort, soft katsuki
Katsuki was one of the last people you wanted to see when you're in a bad mood. And that might sound terrible but it's because you never wanted to show such a harsh, negative side of yourself to someone you cared about. You were very much a 'feel and then reappear more regulated' type of person. But Katsuki never let you go home on your own anymore, picking you and dropping you off even on days where he had something to do.
So you trotted towards him with a scowl and no energy to fake anything and he noticed instantly, his own concerned scowl mirroring yours.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." You said and opened the door, closing it a bit too loudly. You cringed at the sound but buckled yourself in and turned away before the man got in the driver's seat.
"You're shit at lying."
"Fuck off."
Instant regret, a deep inhale from your part as you tensed.
Fuck.
His large hand came on your thigh and you stiffened, all he did was give it a warning squeeze before pulling away. The message was clear. 'Watch it'.
"I'm not willing to discipline you until I know nothing horrible happened but you do know I don't like that shit from you right?"
You said nothing.
"Give me an answer, doll."
"I'm an adult."
"Yeah, you are. And you're a smart one that knows that we have rules. That I'd be taking you over my lap if you talked like that."
Tears pricked your eyes but you blinked them away, not willing to turn your head to show him.
He knew anyways and he dropped the subject, starting the car and driving off.
Katsuki pulled to a stop at a place that wasn't anywhere near your apartment. You were confused as he got out of the car. Your eyes followed him just as he entered a boba shop.
Oh.
A couple minutes later, he came out with a drink for each of you. You remembered when he said that there just wasn't any point of it, that it seemed stupid and too sweet. But pretty soon, he had his own usual order, which was just Brown Sugar boba tea with the sweetness to a minimum.
Katsuki gave you the drink without even looking your way, sipping on his own. You stared at it for a total of ten seconds before timidly taking a sip. The sweetness broke you out of your sour mood, eyes blinking as you focused on the flavour of your favourite tea. The boba was chewy and soft and it grounded you a bit.
Only after you took a sip, did Katsuki start the car and drive.
When you reached home, the apartment the two of you had started sharing a month prior, Katsuki only gave you time to take off your shoes and put down your bag before he had you over his shoulder.
You struggled, hitting his back and asking him to let you go but he didn't listen...not even feeling it.
And when your ass plopped itself onto the couch, your attempt at running away failed when he easily manhandled you in place.
"I'm not patient enough to coax it out of you, so tell me why you're upset. I'll make it better."
You wanted to refuse but the tears were already dripping down your face.
"I'm so bad at art. I'm so f-fucking bad at it. I don't-" you sobbed and his arms were instantly around you, pulling you onto his lap as you cried into him.
"There's so many deadlines and so many things I have to do and nothing is working. And I don't even know if I'm cut out to be an artist. I'm not good enough, I was never good enough for it. I'm gonna fail-- Katsuki I'm so tired."
Your boyfriend rocked you back and forth, giving you kisses everywhere he could reach, on the side of your face and your head and your hair. And you let the tears fall, hiccuping violently and sobbing without restraint.
"I even lost my fucking paints and I can't live without them and I saved up for them and I'm just doing everything wrong."
You let Katsuki envelope you, squeeze you and warm your inside as you let it all out.
When your sobs died down, Katsuki didn't stop peppering kisses everywhere. It took him a second to speak.
"I didn't know shit about art. It all seemed like fancy, time consuming pictures to me. Hell, even now I don't know shit. But when I saw your art, I felt stuff I thought I didn't know how to feel. And that was the first time I realised that maybe life didn't have to be as shitty as it was. Maybe things didn't have to be ugly."
"When we went to those art galleries, yeah they were cool and pretty but not gonna lie, nothing ever left me speechless like your art did. And yeah...I'm biased as fuck, especially because I thought that the look in your eyes was the prettiest out of everything. That sounds cheesy as shit but you make me feel cheesy as shit."
You had stopped crying, left drained and nuzzled against Katsuki while you looked for an anchor to hold onto. And he held you.
"I like seeing you paint the most though, I like how you focus...I like how you curse under your breath, I like how you grin when something looks right, I like how you scan art supplies before you buy them. I like your paint stained hands and your paint water mugs even when I've accidently taken a sip from them. I like that how you laugh when I do that shit. I love that look of pride you have when you're done and staring at it.
It makes you happy so even if I don't understand the point of it, it means a lot to me because of that. So, whenever that thing stops being fun for you, and really stops being fun for you, I'll support you if you wanna stop. But I gotta keep seeing your work, baby, cuz it's like the inside of your head and it's really neat."
You let a few more tears drop, sniffling and looking into his eyes. There was no ingenuity, only pure emotion. And you let him kiss your tears away, you let him pat your head and you let him make you drink water and feed you.
Because it was never a burden for him to do those things, but a priveledge.
The very next day, the same set of paints were in your bag. Brand new and untouched. Along with three different watercolour paper books. 100% pure cotton, 350 gcm.
With a note that said 'you're still down for a spanking for that shitty mouth of yours. Don't make it a habit.'
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blasphemecel · 17 days
Text
Michael Kaiser — Mean
PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 6.4k TYPE: Fake dating, This is not fluff or angst but a secret third thing (with a cheerful ending) WARNING(S): Depersonalization/identity issues
The first time you meet Michael Kaiser, you get a bad impression.
Yeah, sure, he doesn’t have the most stellar reputation, anyway. You’ve met all sorts of unpleasant people in your life and he manages to disappoint even when the bar is so low, the only way to go lower is through digging.
You don’t exchange a word with him, but rather you have the misfortune of having to listen to him talk throughout the entire meeting. He starts countless arguments, some valid to an extent. You can tell he’s just doing this because he’s addicted to the sound of his voice and speaking to people like they’re unimportant specks of dust all while commanding their attention. There’s no point to his fussing either because he ends up signing the same contract you do.
Waste of your goddamn time — he might as well have not signed it and saved you the trouble, since the ordeal ends up lasting three hours because of him.
Maybe you should’ve not signed it yourself, but your PR manager was salivating at the idea of fake dating as a publicity stunt, especially with Kaiser who’ll be posing with you for a photoshoot in a few months, so you said ‘whatever’ and here you are. In this predicament with an insufferable man you imagine you won’t get along with, which already predisposes you to never giving him a chance.
___
The first time you speak to Michael Kaiser, you unsettle him.
It’s unlike him to feel disturbed, let alone at the slightest thing. He’s met all sorts of sickos, so he considers himself unflinching in the face of anyone who has anything off about them.
But he’s fifteen minutes late to the ‘date’ you’re supposed to use as a tool to subtly launch your fake relationship and he’s expecting a scolding. Kaiser spots you and heads in your direction, taking the seat in front with a shitty smirk and an ingenuine, half-assed apology on his lips.
What he gets in response is a blank look — almost… unimpressed, which naturally someone like Kaiser takes as a challenge and already sets the tone for the rest of the conversation — and it’s as if you’re staring into his soul. Then in an instant your expression flips to convincing joy, your warm smile contrasting his snide one, and you say, “Let’s act like we’re really stoked.”
A chill runs down his spine. On a logical level Kaiser knows you’re faking it, but it looks real, and that’s what he finds freaky. Also, the speed.
“Let’s not,” he says. “You’re weird,” he adds after you don’t respond.
You don’t react to this information either and settle for maintaining your smile.
The barista decides to spare him from having to look at you while you don’t say anything. He’s pretty sure you’re doing this deliberately, to torture him. When you attempt to order something, he talks over you and asks, “Can you give us one of those shitty milkshakes with two straws in them?”
She stares at him in bewilderment. “We don’t sell those,” she says eventually.
“Can you make one?”
“No…”
“You’re scum,” you tell him, dropping the happy facade. Again, the quickness strikes Kaiser as disturbing. Then you give her a valid order, and he asks for water since they offer that everywhere and he can’t be bothered to read the menu. After the barista leaves, you say, “I could have lactose intolerance.”
“You could. I could be trying to kill you.”
“I don’t know if a milkshake would be enough to kill me.”
“Maybe I was trying to give you a stomach ache,” he concurs.
You don’t dignify that with a reply either.
Kaiser tries to speak with you again, “I really fucking hate milk.”
“Then why’d you do that?”
“To embarrass you, of course,” he says, like he’s revealed to you the natural order of things.
“Hm.” You consider this new information. “I’ll definitely think of a way to get back at you.”
The lukewarm threat seems to amuse him more than anything.
Then you proceed to have a hostile few hours together in public as instructed. You end up throwing napkins at his face.
Kaiser isn’t good at pretending to be in love. The only such image he seems capable of projecting is one of a middle schooler who’s failing to find a balance between playful and mean. Though it also doesn’t matter to you because you mostly teeter on the edge of mean, slightly left of apathetic. Nothing really matters to you.
___
For your second court-ordered date with Michael Kaiser, your manager tells you to get caught holding hands with him at a park after the cafe meeting doesn’t spark much controversy. The notion itself has you scrunching your face, but you don’t complain about it or voice your opinion.
Again, he’s late picking you up by a not negligent amount of time, leaving you to stand in front of your building, motionless and impatient.
Instead of announcing his presence in a more acceptable manner, Kaiser blares the car horn until you realize it’s him. After you crawl inside the passenger seat, you turn to look at him and see that he looks very pleased with himself. It’s obnoxious.
“I hope we die in a car crash,” you greet.
“We won’t.” You don’t know why, but his brain interprets this as an opportunity to brag. “I’m an excellent driver.”
He’s not. Somehow you make it to the park without getting into a catastrophe — which, as established, you wouldn’t have minded.
You exit at the same time and Kaiser frowns at you by the time he circles his way around to you. You don’t care enough about what’s bothering him to raise a questioning eyebrow let alone ask, but he tells you, “I was going to open the door for you and then offer to help you up. You ruined everything!”
You roll your eyes. “How gallant.”
“Get back in,” Kaiser says, pointing (as if the gesture will be enough to convince you to play along). “Let’s redo it.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. I have a vision for these kinds of things, that’s all.”
“Your vision is trashy and uninspired,” you reject promptly.
Kaiser seems to be the first person in the world who finds your attitude funny rather than objectionable because he grins at your response. But he’s more so looking at you like you’re a bug he finds fascinating in comparison to the rest, without any real respect or acknowledgement. 
“I admit maybe it was a bit cliche,” he says. “Would’ve made me look good, though, if someone caught it on camera.”
You smile that ghoulish smile again and grab his hand like you were told. His fingers are cold and yours even more so, making the grasp clammy and uncomfortable while you begin your stroll. You don’t even know what you’re supposed to talk about with him. Soon enough, you scowl, both the silence and the sensation of getting touched proving too much for you to hide your displeasure, even though Kaiser seems content with letting the silence fester.
“Oh? Why’d you stop? I’ve started enjoying your creepy masquerading.”
“I’m disgusted,” you say.
“Disgusted,” he repeats. “By what? Me?”
“It’s making me sick. Who knows where your hand’s been or what you’ve done.”
Albeit visibly offended for the first time if the lack of an annoying smirk is anything to draw judgments from, Kaiser drops it first. Your arm hangs by your side again, limp.
“Let go, then. Or do I need to do everything myself?” That’s quite a dramatic sentiment coming from a man who has done nothing all day besides a short drive and taking a few steps.
“But my manager said-”
“Who cares? I think my manager’s lucky I agreed to this bullshit in the first place,” Kaiser says. “By the way, my hands haven’t been in any sewers or anything to warrant this reaction, thank you very much.” He must be the type of person who only ever says thank you as if being grateful is some big joke.
“I’m not being literal. I know who you are and what people say about you. My disgust is conceptual.”
“Flattering.” Kaiser’s pleased again with the mention of this tidbit, like the mental image he’s getting of you searching him up gives him immeasurable amounts of satisfaction. One thing you’ve come to notice about him since your last outing is that he’s shameless. “You’re not special, though. Lots of people know who I am.”
“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re scum.”
“Do you usually talk to people you barely know in this way or is it preferential treatment? I’d love preferential treatment, but the other option is amusing too.”
“Usually,” you say in a monotone. “That’s why I don’t speak much. More so supposed to be looked at rather than heard, and so on.” You finish off your explanation with a flippant gesture. That’s what it’s like for you — ‘shut your trap, it ruins your appeal.’
“Well, I-” there’s an emphasis on the word ‘I’ because Kaiser always thinks his opinion matters, “-think your worldview is pathetic and embarrassing. What’s the point of being looked at if no one will listen to you? How can you be fine with that?”
Fair point. You concede in your head, but don’t commit to agreeing with him out loud. “You’re not special either. Most people gross me out.”
“You hurt me this time.” He’s sneering, though.
After a while of walking, you find yourself sitting on a bench next to him. A few pigeons strut around near your feet, bobbing their heads back and forth, almost catching a groove. “If I had any bread, I’d feed them.”
“I’m not surprised you’d feel interested in such a commoner’s activity,” Kaiser says, as if he is somehow superior to you for not wanting to participate in this.
“Vile,” you say, voice still neutral. You’re not looking at him either, attention glued to the birds.
He doesn’t know which part of it you find dismaying — was it the class shaming or what? “So you like pigeons, but you hate humanity. You’re one of those.”
“I don’t hate humanity,” you say. “But nature is repulsive by default. It’s not amoral. When we’re cruel and ugly, that’s a conscious and opportunistic decision. Every day CEOs throw their employees and workers under the bus for more profits. Someone’s getting murdered as we speak. We’re faking a relationship to attract brand deals. I’m getting sick just thinking about it.”
“Get a hobby instead of thinking about stupid shit like that. Caring about how ugly and bleak everything is won’t get you anywhere,” Kaiser… advises.
“Look at the pigeons.” You’re watching the one with the missing claws, wobbling and struggling to get around. “Humans domesticated them and then abandoned them. I love flora and fauna. They’re interesting and exist much more differently than we do.”
“Does that mean you like my tattoo then?”
“Not everything needs to be about you. It’s not like people will forget you exist when you don’t force yourself to be at the center of conversation.”
This stings him the tiniest bit. Either you’re probing into an insecurity or he’s reading too deep into what you’re gathering from your conversations with him. “If I wanted to have a pseudointellectual conversation, I wouldn’t ask a vapid model to psychoanalyze me.”
“Your opinions are unoriginal and stereotyped just like your ideas about romance,” you say, finally turning around to face him again with those haunted eyes. He’s unamused now, clenching his jaw and all. “A stupid athlete wouldn’t be my first choice for a ‘pseudointellectual conversation’ either.”
“You look down on others and judge them, so what makes you so different from all those ‘scum’ you hate? How are you exempt from your own standards?”
Do you realize you’re displaying similar behaviors to those you’re scolding him over?
“Well, there’s a simple explanation for that,” you say. Kaiser is expecting an argument or something, but you kind of floor him with your follow-up. “It’s called hypocrisy. I’m probably just as disgusting as the average person.”
“Your life must be miserable if you look at everything through this lens. What was the phrase, rose colored glasses? Yours must have shit smeared over them.”
You shrug then make a 50/50 motion with your hand. “My life’s neither good nor bad. I’m indifferent on the subject.”
“Uh huh.” Kaiser considers this, then his lips twitch up, and then his smile broadens — it’s snide and smug again, and you come to the realization that he probably doesn’t know how to smile in any other way — before he inches a little closer to you. Not enough to brush against you, but enough to count as an attempted provocation. “I think people like you shouldn’t be considered alive. Legally speaking. And if we’re being figurative, you’re obviously already dead.”
You frown at him, since he’s kind of right. The fact that Michael Kaiser has the capability to discern truths you don’t want to hear rubs you the wrong way.
“Speaking of birds,” you start, deciding to change the topic, “you remind me of a peacock.”
“Wrong.” He’s pouty now. You find the expression cute, but when you catch the thought you throw up in your mouth a bit, so you ignore it. “I’m clearly a swan.”
“The fact that you have a preference when it comes to what animal you’re considered is sad.”
“And you’re entertaining. Let’s hang out again soon even if those sorry fucks don’t suggest it.”
You find it bewildering how he calls his PR manager’s input a ‘suggestion’ and seems to think he can do whatever he wants. Which, maybe he does, seeing the way he conducts himself. You’re also tempted to tell him to make up his mind on whether he enjoys your company or not, but there are more important matters right now. “We’re not supposed to do that, I don’t think.”
“C’mon, don’t be like that.”
“Why this desire all of a sudden?”
“It’s what I want.” What impeccable reasoning. “I think I can make you enjoy yourself,” he says. “Don’t get me wrong. Not for your merit or anything stupid.” Kaiser offers what you’d describe as a flamboyant hand wave in the air, demeanor laced with complacency. “I think it’d make me feel really charitable and generous if I can manage to add something to your depressing life. Give me a chance to try.”
“Word of advice,” you scoot away from him to the point the edge of the bench is digging into your ass and it honestly hurts, “you’re not gonna get anywhere with that attitude. How you phrased it disgusted me again.”
Kaiser finds your favored terms interesting. Everything is sickening and disgusting and vile and scummy from your perspective. Deep down for reasons he doesn’t want to ponder, he can relate.
“Great. You’ll come around soon,” he promises, with the confidence of someone who thinks this is a game he has a high chance of winning.
___
Kaiser makes it a point to inflict his presence onto you as much as he can afford to with your schedules, even though there’s no need for it. Not that you refuse him either. He’s kind of interesting to keep around, in his own Kaiser-ish way.
Earlier today he invited himself over to your house. He’d decided you need to come up with a story about your ‘relationship,’ but didn’t wanna discuss it through text messages. Apparently he has an interview coming up and wants to be prepared in case they ask him about you.
“How did we meet?” you ask, sitting on the other side of the couch and leaning against the armrest, away from him.
The answer is immediate: “I saved you from a burning church.”
You question what other fantasies this man could probably have because that’s the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard. Your voice somehow remains flat despite the bewilderment when you ask, “Why?”
“Because it’s flashy and dramatic.”
“But if anyone searches it up, they’ll see there haven’t been any… burned churches?”
“You’re such a killjoy.” Kaiser sighs. “It makes it sound mystical.”
“No it doesn’t,” you say, rather flippant about the entire thing. “It makes you sound like a pathological liar.”
“I like your sense of humor.”
“Thanks, but I’m not kidding about this.”
“Then what do you think it should be?” Kaiser asks. Obviously the purpose of this inquiry is to criticize your choice of scenario — even you can anticipate such a predictable move.
You roll your eyes and then look away from him in contemplation. You hadn’t really thought about it, since you don’t do interviews, and therefore you don’t need to concern yourself with hypotheticals on the matter. “Some kind of party, maybe. Post-match celebration?”
“Makes sense,” says Kaiser. “Doesn’t compel me, though. Boring.”
With a hum, you try to imagine what would both appeal to Kaiser and sound realistic. Though he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’s swayed by practicality. “I went with someone else, but you swept me off my feet so hard, you stole me away from them.”
“I guess it sounds plausible enough while still having an element of fantasy.”
“Is the idea of me liking you the ‘element of fantasy’?”
“Yeah… That’s why I want it.”
You didn’t expect such a response. It has you looking at him weird. You do so often anyway, but now you do it for longer as if trying to glean something. In response Kaiser tells you to take a picture since it’ll last longer. The reply seems extraneous and distracting, and that only makes you feel more suspicious of him, which is weird since you’re not sure what you’re even inferring.
___
Officially it’s your fifth date with Kaiser, unofficially it’s the tenth. This time you’re holding up a frog in your open hands.
He doesn’t know what the point of all the nature-themed outings is — maybe to make him seem down to Earth in the public eye since he’s become notorious for how insufferable he is? Either way he doesn’t care, and he’s not the type to wander at landscapes, but your affinity for ugly animals is kind of cute.
The frog isn’t some special one either. No crazy colors or anything, just a regular green tree frog (according to your expertise). You let it jump onto your palms, since apparently touching their skin is bad for them or something. Kaiser scrutinizes it in distaste, staring down into its big eyes while it croaks. “So you can handle a disgusting amphibian, but you can’t hold hands with me.”
“I see you’re still thinking about that.”
“Well, it was insulting. And besides, it’s never happened to me before.”
“You’re not so bad. I don’t think I’d vomit if we brushed against each other anymore.”
Kaiser seems curious but nonetheless pleased with this development. “Why the change of heart?”
“Because you listen to what I say,” you tell him.
He somehow resists the urge to piss himself laughing at the sound of that. “Your standards are so low. It’s so sad that it’s funny,” he says. Maybe he would’ve dedicated some more time to teasing you over it, but he comes to a realization which immediately lifts his mood. This must mean he’s in your good graces somewhat, and not many people seem to fit there, so that makes Kaiser special to a degree. Right?
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”
“Who would’ve thought someone who looks the way you do would come out like this?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I think you were one of those kids who, like, shoved sticks and leaves in mud and called it a potion.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean now?”
Kaiser lets out an annoyed sound, tired of elaborating. “It means I think you’re strange.”
“Hmm, I bet you do,” you say. “There’s a quote I like: ‘It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society.’”
“Yeah, and I bet that’s the kind of message you love. What’s it from?”
“Interesting story,” you say. “This is Jiddu Krishnamurti’s most famous quote, but it doesn’t appear in any of his books. Allegedly he said it to some other guy.”
Kaiser blinks and nods, maybe trying to keep a pretense of having the slightest concept of what you’re on about. “Whatever, got it. I can’t remember the last time I read a book. Maybe I’ll check him out.”
“You don’t seem like you’d be interested in that type of thing,” you say, staring at him as if you’re trying to figure him out.
“Actually, I am. Can you stop taking every chance to insult me?”
“I’m not. At least not on purpose… So, what are your hobbies, anyway? You never told me.”
“I practice. What do you take me for?”
You furrow your eyebrows at him. “That’s it?”
Kaiser opens his mouth to justify himself even though there’s no need to be defensive — maybe it’s that he feels like he’s lacking in some department after you bring your attention to it with your little response and generally Kaiser hates to be insufficient. But before he can argue and try and talk himself out of whatever perception you have of him now, an interruption happens.
The frog, which had been lazy and content with merely existing in your grasp, springs without any warning. It leaps out of your fingers and lands on top of Kaiser’s head.
Today you learn Michael Kaiser screams at an ear-shattering frequency when he’s startled. Soap opera level of shock and overreaction.
___
It is when you’re eating at a trashy place for lunch that Kaiser’s looking at his phone, which you find rude since you’re supposed to be spending time together and whatnot. He eats like a pig, too, not graceful at all — you wonder what his fans would think if they saw him with crumbs over his mouth and sauce on his chin. Good material for a public embarrassment campaign, you think.
But it’s in that moment that he finally wipes himself with a tissue and reaches out to all but shove his phone in your face. “Look, we’re so hot!”
You grace the picture with a dismissive glance before looking back down at your meal, disinterested. You already know enough about Kaiser to assume he’d get a kick out of power couple fantasies. And other power fantasies. Really, you find it pathetic.
It was something out of the photoshoot he was showing you, his favorite you presume. Even someone like Kaiser, who has conventional features, isn’t perfect when it comes to these unreasonable standards. He’d been way too stiff next to you while he posed and though his face is symmetrical, his expressions tend to stray to one side, and obviously it’d been corrected.
There’s a mismatch between you on the covers and your image in the mirror. Maybe your brain is exaggerating the disconnect, but every time you see them, it’s like staring into an airbrushed, distorted amalgamation. In other words, you prefer avoiding both the edited products and your reflection whenever you can.
“We don’t look like that,” you say, offhand about his enthusiasm as you are with most things.
Kaiser scoffs and then very blatantly tries to compare between whatever version of you he has on his phone and the you in front of him. There’s not a single good thing you can say about his decision — it’s making your skin crawl just knowing it’s what he’s doing.
“Close enough,” he deems after careful examination.
“I don’t think it’s me.”
“It’s quite literally you.”
“I don’t think anything is me. Like I’m just what I see. My perspective, my point of view. You get what I’m saying?”
“No?” Kaiser says, laughing at you and your apparently strange affliction.
“Well if not that, you have to admit things captured on camera aren’t real.”
“What are you talking about,” Kaiser asks in a flat tone, which leaves it as something less than a question. A few more snickers escape him and he’s grinning at you like a bastard — if at first he regarded you as a slightly more fascinating bug than the rest, by now you must be his favorite, the rarest… A tree lobster. “You make no sense.”
“It totally makes sense. Imagine we’re having sex-”
“What kind of stupid come-on is that?”
“It’s not a come-on, I’m explaining. So, imagine we’re having sex-”
“In what position?”
“Whatever you want as long as it works for the scenario. Anyway, imagine we’re having sex-”
Kaiser laughs harder and then attempts some seductive sort of expression which doesn’t land with you. “I’m imagining it,” he informs.
“Shut up and let me get to the point. Imagine we’re having sex and I’m recording it-”
“Wow, I didn’t take you for such a pervert? Not that I hate it.”
“-so I’m looking at you through the camera lens. The phone’s between us. I’m not, like, in the moment with you. My mind’s absent, it’s all digital. So if you think about it we’re not even really having sex.”
“... You’re losing me even more,” Kaiser says after some contemplation, finding the fantasy unpleasant all of a sudden with this new spin to it. A moment passes during which he takes another big, possibly exaggerated bite, but he at least has enough decency to chew and swallow before adding, “I think you just have a problem.”
You roll your eyes, wondering if he even entertained the thought, but shrug since it doesn’t matter in the end. “Why are we always talking about how I’m weird? If anything, you're eccentric, not me.”
Kaiser wrinkles his nose in offense at the notion and makes an incomprehensible hand gesture in the air. “No. I’ve turned out totally normal. Don’t put me at your level.”
A lot of curiosities spin around your head concerning Kaiser’s behavior whenever you meet and you’re yet to find an answer. What does he want? Clearly he’s comfortable with and used to wanting, but what is it? Attention? Money? Fame? Status? All, none? Will it ever be enough? Is it even the kind of hunger which can be satiated?
Who is he when he’s not playing this ridiculous character?
“I can’t get a read on you,” you tell him.
“Well, you’re socially inept. I doubt you can get a read on anyone.”
“So are you.”
Kaiser feigns hurt over this. He does that a lot. Maybe he finds it hilarious, maybe the performance is all for shits and giggles — who knows.
“I want to dissect your head,” you say after a while of silence.
“Really? That’s what you wanna do with me?”
“Mhm. With a scalpel. I’d make an incision around your temple maybe.”
“My beautiful and demented angel, is that your way of saying you wanna get closer to me?” The sentence comes out mocking with a paper thin smile, but there’s a sense of admiration in it. What for? You raise an eyebrow in visible confusion at the… nickname, but Kaiser doesn’t elaborate. To take away from the tension(?), he announces, “You’ve got something stuck between your teeth,” pointing at your mouth all amused.
___
Kaiser had an ulterior motive in accepting that deal. Though wording it this way makes it sound like some calculated, opportunistic, sinister scheme, when in reality it’s nothing beyond immature and a little humiliating.
Of course, in true Kaiser fashion, when looking to meet someone, he goes straight for the most convoluted option. So when the stupid idea came up, he agreed, even if he put on a bit of a show at first and acted irritating. Confessing to wanting friends is so embarrassing. He’d rather shoot himself at point blank or perhaps commit an act of auto-defenestration than admit the real reason for participating, much less in front of you.
Despite the jabs, you’re also not bad at all. Calm and uninvolved in anything that upsets him and without any expectations towards him.
At first he found your indifference derogatory, but as the months have passed by, there’s a sort of comfort in knowing that he could’ve been some random guy off the street and you would’ve probably treated him the same. In front of you he is neither on a pedestal nor someone to be knocked down on his knees. More Michael than he is Kaiser.
Things have been teetering on a dangerous edge lately. His mind is wandering off towards you again, more and more often each day. Like maybe he’s excited for the next time he sees you or something else repulsive in a similar vein, a giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach. Is this what it would’ve been like to be a little boy with a crush?
Generally he prefers not to socialize with background characters. So he doesn’t know why it’s while he’s having some benign daydream about you that some newbie he hadn’t bothered remembering the name of decides to interrupt him. Besides, it’s inconvenient, he was supposed to be leaving and this guy is blocking the changing room door.
“I heard you’re banging a model,” he says, as if they’re good pals or some shit. Kaiser is also mostly immune to annoying locker room talk since all the other psychotic men he knows are too busy being as fanatical as him to waste time on something as useless as objectifying someone to pass the time, yet here this lowlife is.
Kaiser regards him with a judgmental side eye — for a second too long, almost television-style — and tries to move and sidestep him. “Why do you care? Pathetic cuck.”
“Woah, don’t be like that. I just thought it was funny. I’ve heard about that person before, would’ve thought it would be more of a hit it and quit it type thing. Yet here you are, still together.”
The emotion that zaps him is almost disorienting. Kaiser bruises easily, but it’s all about him. There’s never been much room for anyone else in his mentality of suffocating self-absorption, a depressing way to try and compensate for anyone who’s ever wronged him. Right now, though, he’s feeling anger on someone else’s behalf. A borderline exotic situation.
“So I was curious if that thing about loonies being the best at fucking was true? I’m assuming it is ‘cause I don’t know why else you’d stay with a schizoid.”
In the heat of the moment, when he’s pissed off, Kaiser is not the most poetic wordsmith. Thankfully politeness and civility are sensibilities which elude him. Without a second thought or any regret, he makes use of his water bottle still in his hand and dumps the entire contents of it over his head before elbowing him out of the way while he’s still confused.
___
You really don’t want to be having this conversation.
For fuck’s sake, you’re on break. And isn’t that supposed to mean relaxation? Yet the other model for the shoot today has been bugging you with unpleasant questions, putting you on the spot.
“Isn’t he a narcissist, though?” she asks, refusing to let go of the topic no matter how unresponsive you’ve been.
“I guess? Maybe. In a way…”
“You’re sooo… I don’t know. Like, you don’t even sound sure about what you’re telling me.” She narrows her eyes at you, leaning in a bit closer. “Aren’t you scared of him? Or is it ‘cause you’re so sheltered, you don’t know not to mess around with guys like Kaiser?”
Scared of him? It sounds ludicrous. At worst he’s whiny.
“He’s harmless,” you say. “Just a little rude and preoccupied with himself, that’s all. Actually, he’s an interesting and attentive person.”
She covers her mouth and lets out a sound of amusement, apparently now finding you more convincing and therefore dropping her worries. “He was saying you guys are suuuuuuuper in love with an interview.”
Not too engaged with the topic — since it’s about whatever lies Kaiser told the interviewer to entertain himself — you ask, “Is that what he was saying?”
“Yep. Didn’t you watch?”
“No.”
“Fine. Maybe he’s ‘interesting and attentive.’ I mean, I don’t believe it, but whatever. What about you, though? Do you like him, let alone love him? Can you even like anyone? I mean, shit, you know how you are. So, like, can you? Are you suuuuuuuper in love?”
You avert your eyes. “Yes,” you say. It’s true. You do like Kaiser well enough, probably more than you should. “And stop making assumptions about him and me.”
“What if I don’t stop? What are you gonna do?”
That’s… A very good question because there’s nothing you can do at the moment. Seems like a good opportunity to weaponize your reputation of being a deranged serial killer. “I’ll lick your eyebrows.”
You don’t know if your delivery is persuasive or not, but the idea you’d do such a thing must come off as believable enough because she makes a strange face before backing off.
___
You despise being in situations. And making decisions.
There’s a stupid PR meeting again. Your manager, who you think should move onto writing trashy novellas instead of administering poison to your career just because his imagination is overactive, proposed a new stunt. With the fake relationship running its course, you were discussing ways to publicize the ‘break up’ and he suggested a cheating scandal. Not to mention his great idea had you as the cheater — you swear he’s praying on your downfall at this point.
Maybe because you’ve been treated as some kind of fucked up creature incapable of thought and trustworthy decisions, something insentient, you would’ve went along with it like always. Even though you know you’d look bad, the point is to make noise, and it would be a scandalous story if not anything else. Another indignity doesn’t matter much on an endless list.
Then Kaiser in true Kaiser fashion declared that he wants to keep the relationship going. To you, such an act of flippant defiance is unthinkable.
But obviously this forces you into a position where you need to pick between your options. They’re all staring at you, waiting. Kaiser is smiling at you from across his seat like you’re in on a joke with him. Anxious, you say, “I’ll think about it,” and stand up to leave.
You’re sweating because somewhere within you wanna announce ‘Yeah, I wanna keep seeing Michael Kaiser,’ but it’s so preposterous.
Kaiser doesn’t chase after you (though it’d be his style to do such a thing solely for the drama), but he catches up to you by the time you make it outside of the building, approaching the parking lot.
“Hey. Hey! Hey, stop ignoring me. Heeeeeeey.”
God he is such an annoying pest sometimes. You turn around to face him, snapping, “What?! What was that about anyway?”
“No, what’s with you? What is there to think about? You don’t want to look like a clown in front of the world, do you?”
You’re looking at Kaiser again like you’re trying to figure out a mystery. He always wants things, but what does he want from you? There has to be a reason for this. Otherwise, he should’ve been fine with the separation instead of trying to prolong it.
“Listen,” says Kaiser, a little apprehensive at your silence and expressionless gaze, “I can tell you barely tolerate your shitty job and that you probably don’t like the moronic idea your anthropomorphized cyst of a manager came up with, so why aren’t you protesting it?”
Those are objective enough observations. However, “Anthropomorphized cyst…?”
“You’re changing the subject,” Kaiser huffs, irked. “And by the way the fake meek act isn’t cute at all. They’re making money off of you. Tell them to fuck off and die and stop acting like a hostage.”
“This is very inspirational and all, Kaiser, but how about you tell me why you wanna keep the fake relationship going?”
“Doesn’t matter. If you don’t want that either, you can say we’ll settle for ending it instead of-”
You cross your arms. “Again, your attempts at a pep talk are adorable and appreciated, but you’re changing the subject now.”
“They’re not adorable. I’m right. Say I’m right.”
“Fine, fine, you’re right,” you relent with a roll of your eyes.
Kaiser smiles snidely and clasps his hands behind his back. “Thanks,” he says in a sarcastic tone. Then you expect him to entertain your question, but he doesn’t, leaving you in an uncomfortable staredown against him and his stupid ‘beautiful glowing blue orbs’ ass eyes.
“Answer me,” you demand.
“Your unpleasant personality and reclusive ways have bewitched me.”
“… What?”
“I won’t repeat myself,” Kaiser says with too much attitude considering the situation. Like, he just spoke out one of the most absurd sentences you’ve ever heard.
“Do you have a brain tumor?”
The outrageous suggestion makes him scoff. “Really? You think I need a brain tumor to like you?”
“Maybe,” you say. “Should’ve let me operate on you when I offered.”
“You’re mentally disturbed,” he replies like the fact turns him on or something.
“So were you asking me out or what?”
“Yes? No? Yes. Yeah, fine, I am.”
“Do you search up ‘personality’ on porn sites?”
“Come on, be serious. I mean what I’m saying and I want to give things between us a try. Do you?”
You cringe as if admitting your feelings or overall being in touch with them in the first place is a physically painful sensation, but in your defense you think you might throw up. “Yeah… Yeah, okay, I’ll tell him tomorrow. My manager, I mean.”
Kaiser swings an arm around your shoulders, visibly pleased with the way this is all going. He sings, “That’s the spirit.”
What had he wanted from you? Affection and care, apparently. You think back on when you’d called him ‘disgusting’ and a foreign guilt overcomes you since you don’t usually lament the remarks you make during your misanthropic hissy fits.
Is it fine for someone such as yourself to also indulge in wanting? Hesitant, with shaky arms, you embrace him around the middle, the gentlest of hugs. Kaiser freezes for a moment as if he’s unsure what to do when he’s not the one initiating things, but eventually returns the gesture. Melts into it, even. Two existences brushing against one another, at first glance contrary yet perhaps similar in many ways.
When you finally pull away from each other little by little, Kaiser says, “Let’s elope now.”
You sigh. “You sure have a way of making everything sound way more exciting than it is.”
(He drives you back to your place, but still sucks at driving. Chivalrously, he avoids crashing the car, though.)
___
Yall I was drinking light yellow tap water for a few daysdo you think somethings gonna happen to me ?
Btw I hate this but it's finally finished after like around a month so whatever lol I' M FREE
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tasteleeknow · 2 years
Text
— push, pull
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pairing: chan x fem!reader genre: smut, angst, fluff, established relationship. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 3.1k
a/n: specific is good, helps me figure out what you want! hope this is somewhat what you were looking for! i went maybe a bit heavy on the angst lmao also sorry for being so late, couldn’t post for a few weeks.
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afab!reader. body image themes [general insecurity, no mention of weight]. unprotected intercourse [grinding, desperate!chan, creampie, overstimulation].
Your boyfriend was much clingier than you, physical touch was just how he expressed affection. You loved hugs and soft touches just as much as the next person, until you didn’t. There were times you couldn’t stand it. You’d spiralled a few weeks ago after a friend had sent you a terrible photo of yourself. Sometimes that was all it took. You’d throw yourself into your work to distract from the suffocating feeling of wanting to crawl out of your own skin. It would usually pass after a while, dissipating into a sort of neutral acceptance of the body you inhabited. But this one? You hadn’t had an episode this bad in a long time. Years.
Chan had hardly tried to touch you at all the past few days. It was such unusual behaviour it had snapped you out of the hyper focused haze you’d been in. The past few weeks had flown by—you'd been so focused on work and nothing else. You knew you’d been brushing him off and you hadn’t initiated sex at all, he had to have noticed—even if he hadn’t said anything. 
You were attempting to make a meal—one way out of your skill level—before he got home from work. It wasn’t much of an apology, but you were embarrassed. Too embarrassed to just sit down and just admit why you’d been acting off. What would you say? ‘Sorry, I’ve been totally closed off and weird because I saw a bad photo of myself and instantly spiralled into such a deep pit, that the idea of anyone touching me makes my skin crawl.’ It made you feel ridiculous. You’re so deep in thought the sound of the front door unlocking makes you jump, spilling liquid from the measuring cup you’re carefully filling. You wash your hands quickly and rush out of the kitchen to see your boyfriend at the door, taking his shoes off. 
“You’re home early.” 
“Yeah,” he says, offering no explanation. 
“I made dinner.”
He groans a little as he stands, a clear sign he’s had a rough day. “Alright, just gonna have a shower,” he says, slinking past you without his usual greeting kiss. You frown, then mindlessly you grab a towel so you can warm it for him in the dryer—like you always did. 
By the time he’s done you’ve set up the table and laid way more food than two people were capable of eating. It had taken you hours. He dawdles into the room wearing sweatpants and a small towel around his neck, hair still dripping a little onto his bare skin. When his eyes land on the table he pauses. “You made all this?” he says, looking up at your face for the first time since he walked in the door. 
“Mm, it might not be very good. I had a few mess ups,” you say before leaning over the table to set a vase down in the centre. The red rose reminded you of the bouquet he’d given you on your fourth date, it was huge—so big you hadn’t been able to see in front of you. He’d laughed as you’d attempted to peek around the flowers and then offered to hold it for you until you’d arrived at your front door. You’d spent the walk home working up the courage to ask him to come inside. 
A warm hand at your waist makes you squirm, turning just in time to see Chan’s expression drop. He takes a small step back. You’ve brushed him off, again. Fuck. You open your mouth before pausing, unsure what to say. He walks to the other side of the table wordlessly, settling himself into his usual chair. 
“Thank you,” he says, tone flat as he reaches to serve himself. You were fucking this up already. You walk around the table and take the utensils from him so you can serve him yourself. He leans back in the chair, putting up no protest. When you ask him what he wants, if that’s enough, if he’s sure he doesn’t want more—he makes monosyllabic responses. ‘Sure.’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Mm.’
He eats silently and you wonder if maybe something bad happened at work, he was acting so unlike himself. It had to have been more than your bad mood affecting him. “Did you have a good day?” you ask, breaking the heavy silence finally. 
He finishes his mouthful before answering. “Not really, to be honest. I’ve…been feeling a little uninspired.” Okay, he was struggling with his creative process. That would always upset him. Your shoulders lighten as the guilt lifts a little. 
“Want me to take a listen?” you ask. He’d often ask you to listen to his tracks when he got stuck. You were never much help but he’d brighten up a little after, as if just your involvement was enough to lighten his load. 
“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he mutters as he picks at his food. You slump a little, the guilt returning. This was definitely your fault. You’d done this and you didn’t even have a good explanation. He was never going to think of you the same again. You were petty and childish and ugly and so, so embarrassed. A soft sniffle snaps you out of your spiral. He’s hunched over even more now, hair falling over his eyes. 
“Baby?” Was he…crying? He falls back against the back of the chair at your soft probing, hands covering his face. You stand abruptly, chair scraping against the floorboards. He sucks in a shaky breath as you round the table to crouch at his side. When you reach up to gently pull his hands from his face, he doesn’t resist, letting you get a clear look at the tears rolling down his cheeks. You drop his hands and quickly reach up to take his face in your hands, warm cheeks wet against your thumbs as you attempt to brush them away. 
“Please—please don’t cry. Baby? Look at me.” He sniffles before his watery eyes meet yours. “Talk to me,” you prompt, feeling instantly guilty for asking from him what you’d failed to do yourself. You feel your eyes start to burn as you attempt to hold back your own tears. He doesn’t answer you, eyes dropping back to his lap. You stand before lowering yourself into his lap, edge of the table pressing lightly against your back. 
He looks up at you again, his hands gripping the bottom of the chair. “Why did you do this?” he asks, voice shaky. Your heart drops, thinking he means the way you’ve been acting the past month. Then he clarifies, “It must have taken you hours, I don’t—I don’t understand.” Oh, the dinner. 
“I-I love you. You do nice things for people you love.” 
“You still love me?” 
Oh, god. You’d fucked up so much worse than you’d imagined. “Why would you ask that? Of course I do, Of course I do, baby.” 
“You won’t touch me. You won’t let me touch you.” 
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I-I fucked up. I’m so sorry. I’ve been…not well.” 
His hands move to your hips as his brows pull together. “You’re sick?” 
“No, I mean…my head. It’s silly. I should have just told you. I saw a photo, and I spiralled. I just feel so gross sometimes and when you touch me… I just—”
“You don’t like me touching you?” 
“I do. I love you and I love how you’re always touching me. I just have had a bad few weeks, it’s not about you. I just…haven’t been feeling good about myself. I should’ve told you instead of pushing you away.” You lean forward to press yourself against his chest, his arms wrapping around you properly for the first time in weeks. “I’m sorry,” you mutter again. 
“Can we…just stay like this for a bit?” he asks, arms tightening a little. 
“Mm, as long as you want,” you whisper, reaching up to stroke the hair at the back of his head.
By the time he releases you, the food is mostly cold. You don’t leave his lap, each of you taking turns feeding each other a little of the food on his plate. He doesn’t say much, a small compliment on your cooking, a little small talk. 
“Are you tired?” you ask, rubbing small circles into his upper back. 
“Are you?”
“Mm.” 
“Why don’t you shower while I clean up? I’ll be in soon,” he says, helping you off his lap so he can stand. 
“I can help, it’ll be done quicker.” 
“I’ve got it.” 
You try not to let your worry show on your face. He was clearly still feeling down, the air felt thick with everything left unsaid. “Alright,” you mutter, pressing one quick kiss to his cheek before leaving the room. 
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You pull the covers up over your shoulders, anxiety building in your chest as the sound of his electric toothbrush stops. You couldn’t go to sleep with everything up in the air like this. You had to make sure he had no doubts about how you felt about him. He didn’t deserve this. 
You quickly shut your eyes just as the bathroom door opens. Coward, you chastise yourself. The bed rocks as he climbs in next to you. Usually he’d wrap himself around you, lips pressed to the skin at your shoulder. Not now. Now he settles on his side of the bed, the gap between you feeling much greater than the few centimetres it was in reality. 
You suck in a deep breath then open your eyes, rolling over to face him. You meet his eyes in the soft light, hoping the right words will magically come to you. They don’t. So you move instead, shuffling your body closer to his. When you press your lips to his softly, he doesn’t react, letting you kiss him but taking no active role. The anxiety in your chest transforms into panic. You push his shoulder so he’s on his back, climbing over him. You press your lips to his again, feeling frantic. 
His arm wraps around you and then he’s sitting up, taking you with him. He pulls his lips from yours. “Stop,” he whispers, “Please.” 
You lean back, chest heaving. He looks pained. “Did I hurt you?” 
He looks up quickly, eyes flicking back and forth between yours—like he doesn’t understand your meaning. You consider your words. You’d meant just now but… of course you’d hurt him. You’d been hurting him for weeks. 
“You don’t need to do this,” he says finally. “I don’t want this if it’s not what you want.” 
“This?” you breathe, heart racing. He didn’t mean…the relationship? Your eyes sting from holding back your tears. 
“You’re trying to—I mean I don’t want this right now. Not after I pressured you into telling me what was wrong. If you don’t want me touching you, right now…it’s okay.” 
“I do, I do want you to touch me. I-I cooked all afternoon because I’m too stupid to figure out how to just tell you with words. I miss you,” you pause, catching your breath. “I miss you and I love you. I love you so much.” 
“Don’t say that.” 
You frown. “But—”
“You aren’t stupid.” Oh, that. “It’s okay to feel a little down about yourself sometimes. I-I struggle with that, too. Just…talk to me about it, yeah? I just…I want you to tell me so I know…I know you’re okay.” Your tears finally break free, all the tension leaving your body as he speaks. “So I can tell you how beautiful you are to me,” he finishes. 
You struggle to speak, overwhelmed. Finally you manage to gasp out, “I’m sorry.” 
He pulls you into his chest, hand moving up your back to rub gentle circles. Much like you’d done for him earlier. “You’re okay. We’re okay. I know it’s hard,” he soothes. 
“I didn’t realise at first, I-I was distracted. I didn’t realise I was pushing you away.” 
“Shh, it’s okay. You don’t need to say anything else. I got you.” 
You pull back from where your head rests against his shoulder, looking into his eyes again. “You believe me though, don’t you? You know I love you. You said… earlier you said—”
“I know,” he whispers, “You might not have touched me much recently but… you showed me you love me in your own ways.”
“I did?” 
“Mm, you never stopped making me breakfast, or putting my towel in the dryer for me while I showered,” he smiles. “Even asking me how my day was, you never miss a day. I was waiting for you to tell me what was wrong. I just…I had a hard day and I…usually when I have a day like today I can come home and hold you. I just—I needed you today and I let it overwhelm me. Then I thought I’d pressured you into telling me when you werent ready…” He runs his hands up and down your arms. “...into touching me when you weren’t ready.” 
“I am ready,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his again. This time he’s responsive, his hand coming to rest at the back of your neck so he can guide you. You can taste his toothpaste and a little saltiness from your tears. 
“You sure?” he mutters between kisses. 
“Mm, sure,” you answer, pushing him onto his back. He lifts your nightgown up as you kiss him, forcing you to pull away for a second so he can pull it over your head. He pulls you down against his bare chest, skin to skin. 
His arms are wrapped around you, holding you tightly against him. He mutters into your mouth, “Feel you…feel…more…” He sounds desperate, like he’s finally let go of whatever he was holding back. Some of the guilt seeps back in. 
“I love you,” you tell him again. He moans into your mouth as he his hips lift off the bed a little, grinding up into you. You weren’t used to having him underneath you like this. He usually liked being on top, hovering over you as he filled you. Apparently that wasn’t what he needed right now, he was making no attempt to change positions. He just keeps grinding up into you, muttering into your mouth as he works himself up. 
You attempt to pull back a little so you can reach down and help him take his sweats off. He holds tight, trapping you against him. “Just for a second,” you whisper against his lips. He shakes his head, reaching down to free his cock from his waistband—not bothering to pull his pants down anymore than he has to. He aligns himself up against you then resumes his grinding, his bare cock brushing up and down your cunt with his desperate movements. 
Usually, you’d tease him for being so needy. But right now, you just want him to feel good. He deserves to feel good. So you press your lips to his neck and let him hold you tight, let him take what he needs. It isn’t until he’s practically panting that you take some control, pushing up a little so you can reach back and guide him to your entrance. He looks completely out of it, like he could have just kept fucking himself against you and wanted for nothing else in the world. You watch his face as you push back against him, his tip pressing inside slowly. You want to savour it, having been without him for so long. You barely get half way down his cock before he pulls you back down against him and thrusts all the way in. 
You gasp, breath knocked from your lungs at the sudden fullness. He’s still, one hand coming to hold the back of your head. “Alright?” he asks, sounding equally breathless. 
“Mm,” is all you can offer him for now, focused on the way he’s stretching you—how it feels to have him this close to you again. He’s only still for a few more moments and then his hands move to grip your hips, giving him the leverage his needs to begin fucking up into you—desperate again. 
“Missed you,” he breathes out, practically panting as he pulls you up and down his cock to meet his thrusts. 
You want to tell him you missed him too, that you love him so much, that you’re sorry for pushing him away—but you can’t. You can’t speak, or think. You’re just feeling. The feeling of his hands gripping your hips, his breath against your mouth, his cock fucking you full.
“So perfect,” he mutters, pressing a messy kiss to your mouth—both of you too fucked out to attempt anything other than messy and desperate. His words sink deep into you, knowing that at this moment he’s really just saying whatever comes into his head. That he means it. You attempt to catch your breath, to focus on getting the words out you need to tell him—but then he fucks into at an angle that makes you blank. You collapse, head falling into his neck as you whine. He keeps fucking into you as you come down from your high.
“Got you,” he pants, “Gonna—Gonna fill you.” He pulls you down hard, cock buried deep inside as you feel him lose himself—his deep groan filling the room. It’s messy, his cum spilling from you as he pulls himself free just to fuck his tip back into you again. He whines as he overstimulates himself, cock slipping through your folds as he grinds against you a little again.
When he finally stills, you expect him to relax—for his arms to loosen around you. They don’t. He holds you tight as you both catch your breath, like he’s afraid you’ll just get up and leave him. You lift your arms up to slip under his neck, silently reassuring him. You’re staying. He loosens his hold a little, muscles relaxing. 
“Think you’re perfect, too,” you say, finally. “I need you, even when I was pushing you away, I needed you.” You lift your head to meet his eyes. His cheeks are red, his hair sticks to his forehead. You pull one hand from behind his neck so you can brush it aside. 
He smiles, one of his full smiles—dimples making a welcome appearance. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
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catherinnn · 10 months
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Drunk and Flirty
Summary: Eddie gets drunk on your birthday and won't stop flirting with you
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings: so much fluff, cursing, alcohol and drinking, not proofread :)
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It was your 20th birthday and that deserved a celebration. Or that's what your friends had convinced you to do. A party.
Well, most of your friends. Because with Eddie it was the other way around, you had to convince him to come. He's not a party person but he said that for you, he'd make and exception.
However, now it didn't seem like he was making of much a sacrifice, he looks like he's having more fun than anyone!
He did a few shots with you, --and with Steve, and with Robin, and with Nancy-- he had one too many beers as well.
"Hey, birthday girl!" He calls you as soon as he finds you talking to some of your friends. "Come with me, let's do another shot!"
"Are you sure you can handle it?" you check.
"Are you challenging me?"
"No, I'm making sure you won't end up puking"
"Please princess, I'm fiiine. I'm not as lightweight as you are" he jokes.
"Funny, are we?" you say as you grab two shots and give him one. "Ready?"
"One... two... three!" Eddie counts and you take the shots.
Your face cringes thanks to the strong taste of alcohol and Eddie laughs at you.
"That's cute" he mocks.
"Shut up"
"No, really. You make a cute face after drinking the shot" he says seriously.
"That's cause it's so fucking strong, I don't know how you took so many"
"oww, so that means you're not gonna take more with me?" he asks disappointed.
"No, but I think that's gonna be good for you too, you've had too many"
"Come onnn, it's your birthday! you should be the one who's drunk"
"I am a little tipsy" you confess.
"That's what I'm talking about" he smirks. "Take another one so we're both drunk and I can see that cute scrunch again"
"You're a bad influence, Edward"
"You know, normally I would hate when people call me by my full name. But when you say it, it doesn't sound so bad, I actually like it when you say it" Eddie tells you.
"You have a pretty name" you assure him.
"Yours is even prettier" he flirts.
"Oh, stop it"
"Pretty name for a pretty girl" he keeps going.
You laugh at his attempt of complement. He loves to make you laugh.
"I'm serious! You're the prettiest girl in here, actually, you're the prettiest girl everywhere"
"Stop flirting with me or I'm gonna start thinking you actually like me" you say playfully.
"Oh, but I do sweetheart" he says without thinking twice.
"Eds, you're too drunk" you try not to believe him when he's at this state.
But he keeps going, all night. He wants you to believe him, he wants to finally let you know, to finally stop hiding it.
So when you're talking with Steve and Robin, he would come up to you and hug you from behind, putting his hand around your waist and act as if it's nothing. But he feels you tense for a second. Doubting if you should enjoy it as much as you do, especially when he's not thinking straight. But you let him, it's just a friendly touch...
As the conversation continues, he starts stroking your waist, but it's probably nothing, just friendly. Then, he pulls you closer to him, still, it's nothing. He lays his chin on your shoulder, just friendly. You feel kisses on said shoulder, fuck.
"He's getting friendly" Robin comments.
"He gets extra flirty when he's drunk" Steve explains.
"No, I don't" Eddie quickly answers to keep kissing your skin.
"Sure you don't, buddy" Steve says sarcastically.
"Or are you just jealous I'm not flirty with you? " Eddie says with a smirk. "Sorry big boy, tonight it's all about her" he turns to you, he's really close.
"You'll get that treatment on your birthday, Stevie" Robin says but Eddie quickly denies it.
"Not if she gives me a chance"
He's still looking straight at you, still very close to your face, still holding you by your waist. It starts to make you dizzy.
Steve and Robin look at you two surprised after what Eddie said.
"Eds..." you whisper warning him.
"What, princess?" he challenges you.
"You're drunk" you say, but it feels more like you're just saying it to convince yourself, to control yourself.
"You can keep using that excuse but it won't make what I said false"
You take his hands off of you.
"We'll see how you feel tomorrow" you finally say and then walk away.
You go outside to get some air but Robin follows you.
"Dude, what was that?!" she asks amused.
"I don't know, he's been like that all night" you tell her.
"You think he means it?"
"I don't know about that, all I know is that he's gonna regret it tomorrow and take it back"
"Are you sure? He seemed pretty confident there. Tipsy, yeah, but confident" she adds.
The night comes to an end after a few hours, everybody starts to say goodbye to you and leave.
"I'm gonna take these two home, Eddie will come tomorrow to pick up his van since he clearly can't drive right now" Steve explains. "Anyway, I had fun tonight, happy birthday sweetheart"
Finally, your closest friends have to go too. They help you clean a little bit but then you assure them you'll finish tomorrow. Steve, Robin and Eddie come up to say goodnight.
"Wow, that's means a lot coming from the king himself" you hug him goodbye. "Thanks, Stevie"
"Careful you two, I'm starting to get jealous" Eddie comments.
"You go home and sober up" you tell him.
"Will do princess, I'll dream of you" he winks and you roll your eyes.
"Goodnight Eddie" you go to give him a quick hug but he puts his arms around you strongly to keep you a little longer. You accept it, arms around his neck containing yourself from start playing with his curls.
You move away to let them get going, but before letting him go completely, he gives you a kiss on your neck. "Goodnight gorgeous" and then moves from you with a smirk.
Steve and Robin wait amused for him to get to the car, having witnessed yet another little number from you two.
The next day you finish cleaning up with help from your parents. It wasn't much of a mess, so they had no problem.
There's a knock on the door and you go to open it.
Eddie’s outside.
"Hey" he greets you. His hair a little damped from the shower, his usual clothes, except that instead of jeans, he's wearing sweatpants. He doesn't look hangovered, just a little tired.
"Hey" You're surprised to see him, but then remember he's here to pick up the van. After last night you didn't really know if he regrets everything he said, or even if he remembers it.
"Can I come in?" he asks since you're frozen at the door.
"Yeah- sorry, sure" you let him in and follow him to the couch. "You don't look so hangovered"
"Thanks to the aspirin and a shower" he jokes. "You look good too"
"I didn't drink as much as you did" you laugh.
"Can't believe I was more drunk than the birthday girl"
"Don't worry, I'll make it even on your next birthday. Um so, do you remember anything... from last night?" you dare to ask and you see a little smirk forming on his face.
"Mmmh no, not much" he answers.
"Oh- well, I figured you wouldn't"
"Yeah, everything it's just a big blur after my fouth shot" he laughs and you give him a little snort so he doesn't catch on your disappointment. "I remember when we sang you happy birthday, that cake was amazing by the way. I remember dancing with Nancy which is random"
"Nothing else?" you ask.
"No, nothing more than that and flirting with you nonstop" he says as if it's nothing but failing to hide his growing smirk. He was mocking you.
"Motherfucker" you sigh in relief, covering your face with your hands. He laughs at your reaction.
"Language Missy!" He jokes. "I remember everything, sweetheart"
"Do you regret it?"
"Not a chance" he assures you. "I do feel that way, I meant everything I said. I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable though"
"I just thought you wouldn't remember it, or would regret everything today"
"I don't, princess. So my offer still stands"
"What offer?" you ask confused.
"To give me a chance" he says with a smile.
"You're offering me to give you a chance?" you laugh because it saunds a little silly, but you love it.
"I should've thought about that better. Um- Can you give me a chance?" he rephrases.
"No" you say and he tenses. "I liked the offer better" your turn to joke now.
"Oh, we're felling funny today, fuck princess" He sighs in relief now.
"Karma"
"Alright, fair" he tries again. "So what's the real answer?"
"Yes, I'd love to give you a chance Edward" you say confidently and he smiles.
He comes closer and grabs your face in his hands to finally kiss you.
It's sweet, romantic, everything you needed.
"I've been wanting to do that for so long" Eddie confesses.
"Me too" you kiss him again.
"And, by the way, I do remember saying I liked how my full name sounds when you say it, but I still prefer Eddie" he says and you complain.
"What about baby? Or handsome? Or pretty-" you start saying giving him kisses after each question until he stops you.
"Oh, look who's the flirty one now?"
"Shut up and keep kissing me"
"Of course" he does as you said.
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spookiekewchie · 6 months
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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Characters: og form!Ryomen Sukuna x woc!reader
Summary: Sukuna has some points to prove.
Word Count: 1k+
Warnings: my poor attempt at coming out of retirement, monsterfucking bc sukuna, mean!sukuna (imean is there any other type of sukuna?), rough sex, restrained reader, crying, possessive behavior, there's a slap, biting, bloodplay (sukuna bites the reader with his fangies), p in v, this is literally just filth with no plot or reason, sorry not sorry.
A/N: Yeeeah so if this is trash my bad. It's been a minute since I wrote anything, but leave it to the walking red flag that is sukuna to drag me out of retirement smh. I gave it a look over but I might have missed some errors and typos. My bad if I did. The divider is by @cafekitsune
DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. If you like it don’t forget to reblog and share with others who might enjoy it as well.
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Sukuna laughs, the sound just as mean as it always is coming from him. It’s a mocking sound as he looks down on your panting form, a hard thrust of his fat cock spearing into you just for good measure, all so he can watch the way you tremble and choke on your screams. This is how he likes you, helpless, trapped under him as two of his hands hold your thighs apart and the other two hands keep your wrists pinned. There’s nothing you can do to escape him as he fucks you past your limits, using you until you think you might truly break apart on his cock. 
He’s obsessed with pushing you to this point, craves seeing that proud attitude of yours crumble as he fucks you mindless and reminds you of your place. Under him, at his mercy, his to possess and own because he can’t let you go. It’s not love, but merely obsession. The closest he can get to such a cursed emotion, and with every thrust that drives his cock deep inside you he punishes you for making him feel this way. You’re under his skin, in his thoughts, worming your way in so much so that you can push him to moments like these where his self control shatters. He can’t let you go because he won’t have his perfect pet used against him, and he won’t kill you because despite all his meanness he wants you close. 
You know it too, that’s why you push buttons, and do what no one else would ever dare to do. Because you know you’ll get away with it with your life intact. Your ability to walk on the other hand? Well that might take a day or two, at the least, to recover. This is your only real revenge against Sukuna, pushing him and provoking him to act on what he feels just so you know you aren’t the only one affected by his obsession with you. Funny how your revenge always ends up with you in tears though. 
���S…sukuna, please…�� There it is, what he wants to hear out of you. That broken, tearful plea for mercy that he has no intention of showing you. The hands at your thighs move to push your knees to your chest, spreading you open more for his benefit than your own. The sound you make when he manages to sink even deeper inside you is like a sweet symphony to the King of Curses as he shifts both of your wrists into one hand so he can grip your chin with the other. 
He leans down, turning your head to the side. You shudder when you feel his tongue dragging over your pulse point before you feel his fangs dragging against it. Your mind is too lost to try and stop him, and you can only give another broken, sobbing moan when you feel him bite down. It hurts for only a moment before he soothes over the place he’s bitten, tasting the sweetness of your blood with a heady groan. You know he’s marked you in a place that you won’t easily be able to hide. You clench around him, so hard and so tightly that the formidable King of Curses lets out a deep rumbling growl as he lets his hips surge forward. “You. Are. Mine.” He punctuates each word with a hard thrust, and each one draws a broken cry of pleasure from your lips.
The grip he has on your chin tightens, your head snapping forward as he forces your gaze to return to him. Tears stream down your cheeks, and he swears there’s no more beautiful sight than you being brought to tears by his cock. Sukuna grins, fangs dripping red, and his mouth still bloody from marking your flesh. He uses his grip on your jaw to make you nod your head. “Say it.” He commands, and you have no fight in you to deny him. 
“Yours. Only yours.” You sob, the pleasure overwhelming and far too intense. You’ve no idea how many times he’s forced you to fall apart around his cock, but you can feel yourself reaching that impossible peak again. You feel as if you’ll go mad if he pushes you past it again, and you try weakly to plead with him once more. “Please…I—” He cuts you off with a growl that reverberates through your whole being and strikes you silent. 
“You can.” Sukuna tells you simply, “and you will.” He continues, his cock continuing to rock into you again and again as he claims what’s his. “Now.” It’s an order, and your body bends to his will, the climax hitting you so hard that your vision whites out and you let loose a raw, hoarse scream as your essence floods his cock. Sukuna chuckles darkly at the way you go limp under him, his perfect broken toy. The thought of someone as strong as you, as defiant, and difficult under him like this is enough to send him careening the edge himself. “Who am I?” He questions, giving your cheek a sharp slap to rouse you enough to your senses to answer. 
“My king…” You mutter, words slurred and barely above a whisper with how exhausted you are. It’s enough though, just enough to have Sukuna chasing his own release until he spills deep inside of you. The sound of your pathetic needy mewls as his spend paints your walls, earns a low hum of approval, though he doubts you’re conscious enough to bask in it. 
“That’s what I thought.” He says, hands releasing your limbs while he pulls himself from your warmth, admiring the way he leaks out of you for a moment before his thick fingers are pushing his cum back into you with a laugh at the way you whine. “Perhaps you’ll think twice before trying to provoke me again.” His words are mocking despite knowing this is a lesson you will never learn. Sukuna hovers over you for a moment, watching your barely conscious form. If you could see it you’d swear he was on the verge of kissing you, the thought of you opening your eyes to see him so close with a look of…near fondness on his face is enough to make the King of Curses pull away. Muttering to himself he stalks over to where he’s cast off his robe, shrugging back into it with a mildly frustrated grunt before he calls out. “Uraume!” 
The loyal servant of Sukuna appears in a near instant, obediently awaiting instruction. “Clean her up, tend to the bruises and…” He pauses for a moment, silently cursing himself for the impulsive mark he’s left behind. “And her neck.” It’s all he says before he stalks off to contemplate just how much of a mistake it was to keep you this close. He doesn’t see the way Uraume scowls at the task they’ve been given, he would hardly care if he did. He knows that they will complete the task to the best of their ability, and you’ll be cared for in the end.
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