#ILL LISTEN TO ALL YOUR TROUBLES
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PETITION TO BE EVERYONE’S OVERBEARING MOM FRIEND
#— yap central#it’s been my role in every friend group#and it just comes so naturally to me#lol even at work im like ‘the mom’#LIKE I SEE SEVERAL OF MY MUTUALS GOING THROUGH STUFF AND I TREMBLE#ILL MAKE YOU A NICE MEAL#ILL TUCK YOU IN#ILL LISTEN TO ALL YOUR TROUBLES#I HAVE MY OWN SHIT? NAH FORGET THAT DONT HAVE TIME
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(credits to ssruis)
This song is the only thing keeping me going I do not play about mr showtime 😞 nothing ruined me (made my life better) the way this song did
(Sendn. Me songs to do this with in my ask box… sniffle…)
#circuses? heh.. yeah.. im familiar… jesters? oh#even better…. rellakinoko? now hold on this is already gonna be good… tsukasa tenma? im sold. the fish has been captured. im followinf the#sirens into the deepest parts of the sea and wont be coming back. Unfortunately i had gotten t1k (t571) on ensekai for phoenix and am still#bitter about it. Emu and nene came home but the ugly blonde didnt. This is why we’re having problems tsukasa#i have a mr showtime themed custom profile that needs to be finished aand i gotta work on my one for#tsukasa4#ill be more prepared for that one im certain of it#knocking on wood#PRAYING.#t500 would have been nice you know… unfortunately i ran out of resources.#i think the amount of time and love ive poured into making everything abt this event makes up for this though. Also this is gonna sound#obnoxious but i feel like one of the five people who actually. You know. Get the event. Like its importance which ill elaborate on in a#future post. Everybody wants to talk about this event but nobody wants to read the story#and the side stories Guysss ur missing out its so good when youre not forcing urself to think tsukasa has an ed and dont even know a single#thing abt acting yet believe one google search can prove that method acting is Absolutely Totally Going To Ruin His Life#i dont think fasting was alright it was pretty stupid but what he did doesnt make him have an ed or this or that#I do think you should be very. Very careful with method acting by the way. That can mess you up. But i dont think thats where theyll be#taking tsukasa in the future. Yes itd be nice to show the risks and get a You know be careful but its not as dark and This is gonna ruin hi#😞😨My poor baby!! As people think#omg i got sidetracked LET ME TALK ABT THE BINGO???1?1? Easily distracted ass#Uhm. Where do i begin. Nvm i dont wanna write too much more but this song truly does mean the world to me#And rella’s art is so goood my eyes are always glued to it. For some reason i keep having trouble fcing the expert chart for it on ensekai#ut was just fine on jpsekai. Frowny face. I could listen to the song all day though#Those instrumentals are popping offff i tell you#hidden circus#wonderlands x showtime#wxs#wansho#commissioned song#prsk
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i was helping a friend with their english media hw and she didnt know who charli was so i pulled up my fave song. forgot how 'i got it' starts lol
#out loud off the phone in line for the bus#girl#shes korean but her japanese is amazing and shes working on english too because she likes american culture and music#she told me rap wasnt too big over there (forget the context of the convo) and people mostly listened to korean stuff obvi#i was like 'oh ill give you some recommendations on stuff so you can write about it for your class' (im helping her with the readings)#expected she only knew a handful of artists but she had all of the miseducation of lauren hill on her playlists#so she does not need any recommendations from me lol#she thought charli was cool though.#i expected id be making japanese friends rn so the gang of korean girls (plus saifon) was a surprise#im a commodity to the regulars. im so much taller than them its insane. some came over while i was studying and were asking me questions an#i stood up halfway through the convo to be more respectful. they came up to my shoulders#the chairs are hella short#like high school short#im having trouble fitting into shit and im 5'8. not even tall
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What the hell was that other anon on, I signed up to see masadai and minedai good shit, not that cursed timeline, it caused me PHYSICAL PAIN to read that last ask
Not even "oomf angst" pain but physical pain from trying to comprehend this at all smh REAL LIFE PSYCHIC DAMAGE
you hear that other anon we gotta stone you to death. sorry this is a democratic inbox :/
#snap chats#good morning campers who's ready for violence :)#honestly no other anon could be onto something if i may be insane to indulge the idea#'snap you're off your rocker' i was never on it now listen to my story#listen if masumi's leaking info to aoki to keep him happy I THINK. we can take an INSANE step forward#whether tojo's left kamurocho yet or not TBD POINT IS daigo's gotta keep seeing aoki to keep him happy#something something having the yakuza chairman so readily available and in the palm of his hand etc etc that kind of power trip#daigo's here for his boys though he can grin and bear it#and then mine comes back. mine's trying to dodge daigo yk the whole Gulit Thing but for whatever reason they bump into each other#daigo's obviously elated like His Dead Wife's Back right#mine'll resist on seeing daigo again afterwards but daigo's stubborn and /really/ needs an actual friend right now#moving right along with this bs tho mine finally gets over himself and becomes bold and wants to try again to be in daigos life#HOWEVER. daigo has to hesitate. he'd LOVE to have mine back but the situation in the tojo's so fragile#it's not that daigo isn't a champ at sneaking around and hiding info but if he's at all caught rekindling with mine that could be trouble#and daigo knows if he tells mine the scoop he's going to do something drastic#do we see what im cooking here. i feel sick idk what happened but i feel ill so i MIGHT just be insane#but in review this is not. THE WORST idea conceivable#anon from last night you were onto something but ima need you to stop calling aoki 'masato'#'snap theyre the same guy it doesnt matter' that might be true but it's still trippy#also ARE they the same guy. are they REALLY Boat Of Theseus kind of deal#(theyre the same guy but it really does trip me up to read 'masato' when you mean his aoki era and vice versa stop that im begging)
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❝ AITA FOR ACCIDENTALLY GETTING MY ANCIENT SORCERER BF HIGH? ❞
MODERN ERA TRUE!FORM SUKUNA X READER
» thread [summary]: Sukuna just ate all your edibles and is now more lit than Tokyo Tower—great. Now you have to fuck his high n' grumpy ass calm before you're the one that's actually fucked.
» upvotes [wc]: 11.9k » awards [cw]: true form sukuna, crack fic 110%, dr*g use, accidental dr*gging, slight dubcon, sub!sukuna, cunnalingus, fingering, whiny!sukuna, riding, twin-cock sukuna, nipple teasing, lots of banter, spanking, bimbo!reader, pussy smacks, frottage, premature ejaculation, creampie, breeding fantasies, rimming, cum eating, femdom, uncut/uncircumcised, high n' sassy sukuna, bondage, lots of teasing, and bits of fluff . » mod comments [a/n]: part of the 'we be burnin' JJK 420 collection (ill make a series post eventually i swear lol). I had the goal of keeping this under 12k and i made it! by 44 words. this was supposed to be a 5k fic but I got carried away because I love exploring modern day tf!sukuna x reader relationship so lots of banter and tid bits.
Enjoy!
Ok girl. Deep breaths. You got this!
Standing in front of the large shoji door to Sukuna’s quarters, any nerve you build quickly dissipates by the time you raise your hand to knock.
SHIT-SHIT-SHIT!
Swaying on your feet, suddenly, you don’t feel so sober anymore. Well, technically you weren’t even sober to begin with—far from it actually, you'd just started the come down from some pretty powerful edibles.
Edibles which happen to be the source of all your troubles now.
You thought Sukuna leaving, for what you assumed would be a few days, would be the perfect opportunity for you to get completely zoinked off your ass—and that's exactly what you did.
Yet, unbeknownst to you, his plans had changed and he had returned home only after a day.
So when you finally awoke from your weed-induced power nap to discover Uraume had served Sukuna the remaining of the matcha and adzuki manju edibles you had made, you just about fell out.
Uraume had given Sukuna all three dozen of them.
You didn’t even intend to make so many, but you accidentally doubled the recipe for weed butter and you weren’t about to let good product go to waste. Not with how tough it was to find good weed in Tokyo with it being illegal and all.
But fuck!
You can’t recall a single time Sukuna ever enjoyed human food—more sated by human flesh instead.
Yet from what Uruame told you he had already eaten at least five of them already.
Who knew The Curse King had such a fucking sweet tooth?!
Of course, Uraume blamed you once you explained. And true, while you did make the edibles, you certainly didn’t tell their ass to serve them to Sukuna!
Uraume scoffed at you though, claiming anything in Sukuna’s palace belonged to Sukuna—including you and whatever you happened to bake.
The pompously dull scolds Uraume gave went in one ear and out the other as you rolled your reddened eyes. Eyes which immediately turned into a panic when Uraume demanded it be you, not them, to check up on Sukuna.
That was the whole reason why you are even in front of Sukuna’s door right now sweating fucking buckets.
Especially, since Uruame made the utterly insane accusation of you attempting to poison Sukuna.
You tried to argue that Sukuna is immune to toxins—but Uraume wouldn’t listen to any of that.
Hell, If you thought you could take Uraume in a fight, even in a more sober state, you would have literally scrapped with their ass before you agreed to check on a possibly high Sukuna.
Who knows what kind of nefarious time The King of Curses would be on while high!?
Uraume is the one who is his attendant and also fed him the edibles!
They should be the one to go!
But you also aren’t an idiot. You know for a fact Uraume would hand you your ass and then force you to go check on him anyway. No sense in getting unnecessarily bagged up when Sukuna himself might actually kill you.
So here you were, in front of his door dreading what might be waiting for you on the other side.
“Woman! You are annoying me more by just standing out there, come-in or fucking leave.”
Piercing your thoughts, Sukuna’s gruff command booms through the door with enough force to make you take a few steps back.
Okay maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be so bad?
He sounded normal enough.
No one high could still be this grumpy.
Sukuna is The King of Curses after all.
Something as simple as a mere plant shouldn’t have any affect on him, right?
Steeling yourself, you slide open the door to his chambers.
You make a mental note to fire your therapist, as the deep meditative breathing patterns they recommended does fuck all to temper your increasing anxiety in this situation.
Peering into the room before you enter, you see Sukuna propped on his side atop the wooden engawa patio leading to his private gardens. His nose seems to be buried in some ancient text you can't quite decipher from this distance.
Well, he looks normal enough too—from what you could tell at least.
You walk towards him but Sukuna makes no acknowledgement to greet you.
However, if you could see his face, you would see the amused evil that pulls up at the corner of his lips.
Sukuna can sense your uneasiness radiating off of you in waves.
You’d not been this distressed to be in his presence in quite some time and yet you still sought him out—something you rarely did—even in a good mood. Typically, you’d only come to him when he called for you or when you wanted his cock.
You had to want something from him—and a slut like you was never shy about asking for dick.
Interesting.
Sukuna knew you hated having to humble yourself to ask anything of him, so he took great pleasure in teasing you for it when necessity meant you could no longer delay your request.
Whatever you wanted, Sukuna certainly wouldn’t make it easy for you.
Where would be the fun in that?
And neither would your own body, apparently, make this situation any easier. You nearly trip over your own feet as the paranoid side effects of your high reaches full throttle.
Your eyes growing wider with each step forward.
The vision of the tea set next to him along with the plate of your manju edibles—the now almost empty plate—confirms your fears.
Only one solitary piece remained.
Nervously, you kneel near Sukuna’s feet, your back perfectly straight and your arms extended in front of you. Forcing yourself into an overly formal position to avoid fidgeting any more than you already are.
A tense silence settles between you both—well, tense for you.
Sukuna seems perfectly content to bask in your discomfort.
You swallow, unsure how to start.
Even if he wasn’t a malevolent ancient cursed sorcerer, telling someone they’ve been accidentally dr*gged was never going to be a pleasant conversation.
Although, you still do your best to be covert in your inspection of him—no sense in telling him he’d been dr*gged at all if he wasn’t actually high.
Sukuna on the other hand is growing impatient with your nervous energy.
When he finally speaks, you’re nearly jumping out of your own skin.
“Why are your eyes so red, brat? Don’t tell me you’ve been fucking crying again? Is the time of your moon cycle upon us already?”
Did this man for real just ask you if you were on your period!?!?
Exhaling deeply out of your nose, you give him a polite, yet clipped, reply.
“Just allergies, m’lord.”
You wanted to tell him off so bad but you didn’t want to piss him off more than necessary, considering the circumstances. Besides, you were certain your eyes were red as hell right now from being high for the last three hours. So in order to control your temper, you proceed to gaslight yourself into thinking that, for someone like Sukuna, this was a logical assumption to make.
The thought stops you from cussing him out at the very least.
However, Sukuna is astute enough to know you’re lying.
Truthfully, he’d only made the comment to rile you up.
Not only were you a horrible liar to begin with—but everything from your clenched knuckles, to the way you gnaw on your inner cheek to contain your sass, are all dead giveaways.
Those facts withstanding, Sukuna could tell by the subtle shift in the scent of your intoxicating pheromones alone if you were on your moon cycle or not.
And it was far too late into summer for it to be allergies.
No, something is on your mind.
Something you didn’t want to come right out and tell him.
Not that he tended to care at all about any of your silly concerns, but seeing you had seeked him out in such a frazzled state has him curious.
What other than him could get his favorite lil’ human this upset?
Sukuna immediately loses the little remaining interest he has in his book, all of his interest now focused on you.
His evil grin widens.
“Then is ‘just allergies’ to blame for placing the notion in your dizzy little head that I wanted to be fucking bothered with your presence right now? Or are you telling me ‘allergies’ is a new modern term for sluts wanting dick?”
Son of a bi—and see this is exactly why you actively avoided him when you’re not fucking him!
Sukuna was obnoxiously insufferable to be around when he wasn’t giving you toe-curling, heart-stopping, vision-blinding orgasms. You surely would have at least tried to escape by now if it wasn’t for that—well, that and the fact he did have a literal palace and you no longer had to have a job or worry about rent, bills and all the other shit you hated about adulting.
You weren’t treated like a princess but you pretty much had access to everything practical you could ever want.
Although you were still working on getting a stable internet connection up in the mountains.
Yeah, no, Sukuna wasn’t a bum by any means and you could surely do a lot worse than a mean, forever-grumpy, ancient asshole.
Sigh.
However, as far as you were concerned now, you had two ways you could play this: you could fly off the handle at his intentionally crass insults or you could pay it.
You choose the latter, knowing he would soon grow bored of you if you just shrugged off his mockery, ignoring him.
You just need to buy yourself a bit more time to tell for sure if he was high or not. Then you could fuck off and enjoy the remainder of your own high as you wouldn’t be getting stoned for a while now.
Thanks to him eating all your stash.
“Uhhh, no m’lord. I-I just wanted to know how you enjoyed the manju I made. I filled them with matcha and adzuki beans…It was my first time baking them.”
Oh?
You still wanted to play games?
Sukuna’s gaze darkens at the chance to pick at you more. The more you would lie and beat around the bush the more Sukuna wanted to press your buttons.
Never getting bored of pissing you off, angering you was his second favorite pastime. You made it too easy to wind you up like a coil until you snapped like a little twig in his grasp.
All so he had an excuse to do his actual favorite pastime—punishing you.
Lacking any sort of discipline, you were more of a hot head than he was at times—which was saying something. Sukuna loved to bring you to the very limits of your sanity with his taunting of you. Only so he could watch you helplessly thrash beneath him, frustrated that you could never beat nor overpower him.
You were a curious little sorcerer who got off on edging death which was apparent from how your fiery anger quickly sparked into shameless arousal, like the massive cockslut you are. You’d be cursing Sukuna to hell before begging him to take you along for the ride.
In turn, Sukuna would bully both of your tight greedy holes, mesmerized by your filthy cunt creaming enough to soil a puddle onto any surface he happen to fuck you on.
You had to have been a succubus in a past life.
His sexual appetites were immense but you were nearly insatiable yourself. Fucked out and trembling, with your eyes barely open, you’d never stop pleading him for more until he’d fuck you unconscious.
Nevertheless, in this lifetime you were a pitifully weak sorcerer in comparison to him—however you could be considered ‘special grade’ if ranked solely on your ability to take dick.
Truly, your best quality and what has kept you alive thus far.
At least that’s what Sukuna would tell himself when the thought of you dead leaves him feeling restless and agitated. It’s why he never lets you leave the palace grounds other than with Uraume on their occasional visits into Tokyo.
Sukuna had deemed you too weak to be left to your own devices outside of his palace.
You were his plaything, to do with as he pleased—and right now, he wanted to make you absolutely lose your shit.
From the way your aura bristled, it was clear you just needed one final push.
And so, Sukuna pushed.
“HA! I could tell—”
On the verge of unraveling altogether, your brow twitches as you count backwards from a hundred in your mind to calm down—another bullshit coping mechanism from your soon-to-be-fired therapist.
100…99…98…
“—thought you filled those manju with horse shit.”
97…9—
Never failing to take the bait, you wouldn’t disappoint him this time either.
Jumping up, you wobbled on your feet but that didn’t stop you from stomping your foot in indignation with enough force to make the old wooden floorboards creak.
“THEN WHY IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK DID YOUR BIG HUNGRY ASS PRACTICALLY EAT THREE DOZEN OF THEM!?”
From the looks of it Sukuna was perfectly fucking fine—like you had figured he’d be.
This had proven to be a complete waste of your time even checking on him. The brief encounter had done nothing but fuck up the remainder of your high since he wanted to be such an ornery bastard about everything.
Forgetting all about your plan to not piss him off, instead you flip him off, storming away.
“LIKE THEY DON’T EVEN AFFECT YOU?! WHAT A FUCKING WA—”
Like a blur Sukuna rises as his four arms extend to ensnare you.
However lucky for you, you sense him in time to dod—wait… did you just dodge him!?
No, that's not right he must have missed.
Huh?
HE FUCKING MISSED!?
Whipping your body around, you face him.
Your wide confused eyes meet his own puzzled gaze, one that you notice is turning increasingly more red by the second to extend beyond just the color of his pupils.
You don’t even have the time to appreciate how adorably ridiculous the expression is on him before the realization hits—
—OHHHH SHIT—SUKUNA IS HIGH AS FUCK!!!
He likely hadn’t moved from that spot since he so gluttonously devoured your entire tray of edibles. In turn, as is with the nature of getting high, if you are sitting or laying down while you partake, you often don’t realize exactly how baked you are until you finally stand up.
And from the looks of it the high had just hit him like a fucking semi-truck.
Sukuna was absolutely lit.
Staggering in his stance, a look of surprise is on both of your features. You were for certain Sukuna would have fallen to the ground if not for his hand catching onto the wall beside him.
His awkward movements are akin to someone suddenly realizing how bulky and inconvenient it was to be approaching 8-feet-tall with four massive arms.
“O-Ohhhh my god, Ohhhh my fucking god! Y-You can actually get high!?!”
Thoroughly gagged, your hands fly to cover your mouth. Always one for inappropriate reactions at awkward and improper times, you can’t suppress your snorts of laughter as the reality of him actually being high settles in.
Sukuna on the other hand is currently fighting a losing battle with vertigo to find steady footing. His bloodshot eyes take on a more deadly appearance as his pupils glow red in fury to match.
“W-What the fuck did you do, woman?!”
Did he just stutter too!?
Oh shit this was too good.
You cursed yourself for not having your phone on you, but knew better to bring a phone around Sukuna. He’d broken your phones one too many times because he wouldn’t admit he was more jealous of you paying attention to your talking clock (it was TikTok) than him.
Yet at the same time, his accusations that any of this is your fault piss you off further.
“ME!? I’m not the one who just smashed over 3000 grams of weed! Pretty sure that much would even take down a fucking elephant!!”
In response, Sukuna growls as his cursed energy discharges off of him in erratic waves. Yet the intensity is not nearly as oppressive as you knew it could be.
The weed is clearly having an effect on him.
“Watch how you speak to your King, brat. I won’t warn you again.”
Dripping with sarcasm you bow dramatically.
“Oh no, how could I forget my place, Sukuna! How about you ask next time before you just gobble up all my shit? Then this wouldn’t have even happened!”
When bickering with him, you often dropped all formalities which always got you into deeper trouble.
“S-SHUT THE FUCK UP!!”
CRACK~!
Wood splintered around Sukuna, falling to the ground in a heap. Sukuna had unintentionally misfired a cleave right through the wall next to you and effectively remodeled his chambers to extend into the next room over.
A few strands of your hair get caught in the crossfires and they float in the air beside you, along with the various debris from the wall.
It’s becoming quite apparent that while high, Sukuna struggles to keep his immense cursed energy in-check and it fluctuates to match his temper.
The look of shock on your face mirrors Sukuna's, who is now staring at his hand as if he had grown a sixth finger. It’s not a finger though, it's his eye from the face on his hand, bloodshot and red. That's when Sukuna notices the eyes on his face are also bloodshot, perfectly matching yours.
“ASSHOLE! What if that fucking hit me?!”
“Well, you sure as fuck wouldn’t be alive to be screeching at me right now, woman…”
You were seething.
How is everyone still treating this like it's your fault!?
“No one told you to eat all my edibles, King Big Back!”
Sukuna growled at your insults even if he didn’t really understand them.
He was huge—of course he had a big back…?
Your words, which Sukuna deems nonsensical, only make him dizzier and amplified the almost out of body experience he was currently in. Clearly the fault of your so-called “edibles”, Sukuna couldn’t remember the last time he felt so out of sync with himself as he leaned against what was left of the structure.
Not since he’d first adjusted to being a cursed object in his very first host.
“Well fuck me then, for not realizing you were brewing poison, witch.”
“Yeah fuck you, because its just a plant! A harmless little plant! Didn’t they have hemp back in your pre-historic era, you old fossil?!”
Sukuna growls at your insults, but nonetheless considers your words.
Of course they had hemp.
Being practically native to Japan it was utilized in many trades, but this had to be a different variety of the plant. Sukuna never heard of it being consumed, as the plant had more pragmatic uses for clothing and tools.
“For practical use, woman! Not to make potions and consume like some fuckin’ degenerate.”
Your eyes narrowed.
Sukuna of all people calling anyone else a degenerate was rich.
“For the last time Kuna—it's not any kind of poison or potion! You’re supposed to be immune to toxins, remember?”
Sukuna growls once more.
True, poisons had no effect on him.
If what he consumed was in fact just a plant, and nothing imbued with venom nor curses, then perhaps this didn’t make the cut?
Although Sukuna is sure the after-consumption effect has to be akin to something poisonous, since for the first time in likely what had to be a thousand years, the unfamiliar sensation of nausea crept up his throat.
Stepping back inside his chambers, he teeters unsupported on his feet before dropping down to a seated position. The uncoordinated clumsiness of his actions causes the room to shake, sending more fragments of the now-destroyed wall crumbling around the both of you.
Dare you say it, you kinda… feel bad for him?
Sure you were still pissed at him, and in no way were you about to accept responsibility for this…but in this state he looked sort of, well, pathetic.
You didn’t think you’d ever be using that word to describe Sukuna, who’d time and again proved to be more fearsome than the beasts of nightmares.
Yet at the moment he was definitely giving off more sad Hello Kitty vibes, rather than a monstrous primordial tiger. All four eyes on his face were dilated to comical proportions and the tired scowl he wore was more akin to a toddler’s pout.
It was… cute?
Upon further appraisal, as he sits with arms and legs crossed like a child after a tantrum, you decide he definitely looks cute.
And dare you say even—baby girl?
Not like you could ever tell him that though.
You’re sure if you called him that, no matter how weak and uncoordinated he was now, Sukuna would somehow muster the willpower to wring your head right off your pretty little neck.
Regardless, having Sukuna be so weakened, even temporarily, was unsettling to say the very least.
“I-I really didn’t think you would eat them, Kuna. You don’t even like human food!”
Your voice takes on a more apologetic tone as you begin to inch over to him.
Dropping down on all fours, you cautiously crawl closer bit by bit in a similar fashion as to how one would a wounded beast you were scared might lash out—even if you were only trying to help it.
“I don’t ever fucking recall saying that, brat.”
Sukuna hisses but the fatigue was clear in his tone. The bite in his words hardly evoked the blood-curdling fear he was so easily capable of under normal circumstances.
Sukuna closes his eyes in exasperation, which consequently has you rolling yours.
Bulllllllshit!
Every single thing that man tried, he hated!
Well, every single modern thing.
Oh fuck, they had manju back then too, huh?
Stopping once you are directly in front of him, you peer up at him with big doe eyes, sweet and apologetic.
But Sukuna isn’t falling for it—or he didn’t want to at least.
Cracking open an eye at you before closing it again, Sukuna turns away from you, nose upturned.
Urgh, what a big diva!
You almost want the normal, insanely irritating, Sukuna back instead of the blitzed sassy creature before you—almost.
“Listen Kuna, you did eat a whole shit load... More than any grown ass man I’ve ever seen to be honest…”
You shook your head and mumbled the last part under your breath, ignoring his sassy gripes, as he definitely still heard you.
“Ok, so I have literally zero clue as to how long your high will last… but I mean hmm… why don’t you try RCT?”
Sukuna stares daggers at your sheepish expression.
You had to be an idiot.
If Sukuna could focus his cursed energy enough for RCT he would have fucking done it already! Not to mention, take his sweet time in punishing you too. However, all that would have to wait until the disorienting effect wore off enough to make that possible.
For now though, Sukuna just wants to be alone.
This 'weed' was having strange effects on him, he is growing inexplicably nervous to be in your presence for some ridiculous reason.
“Leave.”
“Nope.”
All four of Sukuna’s eyes flare and stare you down the best they can through his red-eye squints.
“I gave you an order, brat. I won't ask again.”
Sukuna tried his best to deliver his threats in the bone-chilling tone he was so well known for, but it falls flat, yet again, thanks to him being higher than a pair of perky tits.
His frown, and thereby his pout, intensifies at his current ineffectiveness.
“I can’t just leave you though, Kuna…”
Thinking him docile enough, you slowly crawl into his lap and thread your arms between the two sets of his own, gazing up adoringly at him. Sukuna allows you to do so without fuss, although he doesn’t return your embrace nor does he look at you.
His own head swirls too much—especially with how his skin begins to tingle just from the sensation of your warm body pressing against his.
“You need me! What if we were to get attacked by jujutsu sorcerers right now? I’d have to protect you!”
You don’t even try to suppress your giggles this time when your body is shaken by the disgruntled rumbles from his chest.
“Tch—with the few measly crumbs of cursed energy you do possess, you can’t even protect your own fucking self—”
“Hey!”
“—so if that happens, then were both royally fucked.”
Okay, so you weren’t anything close to a super strong special grade sorcerer. But you think you’d be somewhere around grade 1 now, so you could hold your own against most!
At least enough for you both to escape!
You’d only really be in trouble if that sexy white-haired blue-eyed sorcerer, Gojo Satoru, showed up. Although from the way he winked at you the last time you saw him, saying ‘you’d be prettier as a Jujutsu High teacher instead of one of Sukuna’s lackeys’, you’re pretty sure if you flirted hard enough you’d be okay at least.
Still, you actually liked living with Sukuna a lot more than you cared to admit. Moreover, ‘Jujutsu High teacher’ would qualify as you having to work an actual job—yeah nah, fuck that.
You’d stay with your ancient asshole, thank you very much.
Bringing your attention back to Sukuna, who had since closed his eyes to keep the room from spinning, you poked a finger into his cheek.
Sukuna ignores you, but you persist.
Your little finger presses deeper and deeper until a mouth forms on his skin to snap at you, causing you to snatch your hand back before you lose said finger.
“Worry about protecting yourself, brat! You’re aware when this wears off, I’m going to fucking rip you apart and feed you to the mouth on my stomach limb by limb.”
Unphased, you flirtatiously bat your lush lashes as one of your hands slipped through his robes to caress the spot where his mouth forms.
“Awe Kuna, if you have the munchies that badly and want me to ride your stomach again—all you have to do is ask. I’ll let you eat me right up.”
His abs clenched ever so slightly from your touch.
“Urgh, woman, you should go enjoy the last hours of your life while you still can…”
His threat dissolves into grumbles, still making no attempt to push you off.
Well, if you were in fact about to go to glory as soon as Sukuna could control his powers again—you might as well enjoy yourself while you still can.
“Yeah, yeah, Kuna—but until that happens just relax, okay? Let’s have some fun, eh? That’s the whole point of being high in the first place!”
Sukuna rolls his eyes but allows you to push him back to the floor. His body feels so heavy and laying down was so much more agreeable than sitting up in his condition.
Still, he couldn’t see how this out-of-body-like experience could be fun.
Fun for Sukuna was killing.
Sukuna enjoyed most of his thrills relishing in the screams of his victims as he bathed in their blood which poured so liberally through his deadly claws.
He even has a pool of blood for god sake!
Well had—until you nagged him pretty much to death, complaining that you couldn’t be expected to bathe in the garden koi pond. As a result, Sukuna had Uraume restore the hotspring to its original state —if only to get you to shut the fuck up.
Hn, now that he considers it, you are way too much fucking trouble than your crazy-ass, tight-ass, lil’ cunt was worth—his current predicament being the ultimate testament to that.
“This isn’t fun.”
It’s your turn to smirk as you straddle him.
“It will be!”
For me at least.
You don’t say that last part out loud though.
You’re smiling down at Sukuna playfully, pulling your tank top from overhead to reveal your simple pink cotton bra with little flowers printed on them.
Sukuna, who had since draped an arm over his face, regards you skeptically from under his muscular limb with his lower set of eyes.
“And just what do you think you’re doing now, brat?”
“What does it look like asshole? I’m gonna fuck you.”
“And if I tell your bratty ass to fuck off and die?”
“Well, for one—it’s not like you can stop me. And two—when has me saying ‘no’ ever stopped you?”
You stare down at him sweetly.
“Slut.”
Sukuna snarls, turning his head in a huff once again.
Checkmate.
This was the ultimate win as far as you’re concerned.
Sukuna had his way with you entirely when you fucked. He was always in control—of everything. Not that the slutty masochist in you ever minded, but you wanted a turn to be the dominant one for once and control his pleasure.
Hell, if you knew marijuana would have this much of an effect on him you would have given him some sooner!
Besides, you could tell by the way his robes rose on the lower half of his body he was already feeling its euphoric effects.
Yet you had no idea just how much.
Sukuna’s already inhuman perception intensifies the experience a hundredfold. His limbs are heavy, as if the floor might give way, libel to sink into the very earth at any moment.
Staring out into the garden, he could see everything in vividly intense hypervision through his dilated orbs.
Every rustle of the leaves, every movement of even the smallest creatures, and every particle in the air took on a lustrous sheen. All his senses were in overdrive, creating a strange euphoria vibrating through his body, suspending him in time—that is until your honeyed voice snapped him out of it.
“Hi~ Look at me, Kuna~~”
Soft hands cup his large face, bringing his sights back to you. Sukuna emits a disapproving grunt, or at least he thinks he does.
He’s not entirely sure.
With his attention now focused on you, everything else in the world seems to still.
The anxious throbs in his chest seem to prolong each beat, as if his heart might stop altogether. Sukuna concludes that these palpitations and irregular rhythms must be a side effect of the plant.
Has to be.
It certainly wasn’t the way the light of golden hour shimmered on your skin so radiantly, like an otherworldly ethereal creature only seen at dusk—making him feel like he was the inferior mortal in your presence.
“Don’t float away on me…”
Your voice, filled with angelic mirth, tickles his ears while your fingers gently card through his hair.
Sukuna bites his tongue, drawing out thick, viscous red liquid to suppress the needy purrs bubbling in his throat from your doting caresses.
How could he be the one to float away when you had the appearance of one who had descended from the sky?
Sukuna's lower set of hands unconsciously brace your thighs like a vice, as if to anchor you and prevent you from levitating away from him.
Goddamn, if not some potion, you had to have cast some twisted spell.
Everything about you right now was enthralling to him.
Has your skin always been this silky?
Sukuna succeeds in remaining quiet, yet fails in keeping his lower half controlled, involuntarily bucking his hips. His eagerness apparent, you rub your clothed mound over his twin cocks that stiffen beneath you.
Your hands skillfully loosen the knots in his obi to uncover his firm abs and ritualistic tattoos already covered in a sheen layer of perspiration.
Sukuna’s breath hitches when your fingernails graze over his sensitive exposed nipples.
“Watch it, brat.”
But he sounds so far away now, you don’t really pay him any mind.
You are lost in enjoying some of the far less intense, but still lingering, effects of your own high.
Humming a saccharine tune, your head tilts back as you relish the pleasurable strain in your inner thighs just from having them span over his broad pelvis. The melody serves as an accompaniment to the steady rhythm of your hips, unraveling him more by the second.
When your eyes do open again, you observe the strain evident across Sukuna’s sharp features.
You simper, wondering how long Sukuna could hold on before he fell apart completely underneath you?
Picking up tips from the royal headache himself on how to press buttons, you taunt Sukuna with your coos.
“Are ya still mad at me, Daddy?”
You’re pouting but your mischief is evident, twinkling brightly behind your eyes.
Sukuna’s own eyes narrowed at your boldness.
You just loved calling him ‘Daddy’ like the filthy whore you are—lacking in any sort of couth.
This whole situation was infuriating for him.
And as such, Sukuna wants to be mad at you—to teach you a lesson, to have you meet your death at his own powerful hands—but alas—his own body betrays him.
Your still sparkling aura exacerbates his intoxicated frustrations along with his more carnal desires as euphoria rushes through him.
His nostrils flare when the candied perfume of your sinful little cunt—already soaked untouched—saturates the air.
Fucking hell—he could practically taste you on his tongue.
“Just get on with it then, if you think you can, woman—”
Giving your rear a firm smack, Sukuna hurries you along.
“—although, I’m sure your weakling ass will give up and be begging me to fuck you within the first minute.”
You roll your eyes.
Even in spite of his breath laboring slightly, along with minor twitching spasms of his thighs underneath you—he’s still acting tough.
“Hmm, we’ll see about that. Won’t we, Daddy?”
Sticking your tongue out at him, you hop up to kick off your slippers. You take your time in removing your shorts though, hands sensually sliding them down, giving him a little show.
All four of his eyes follow the provocative sway of your hips intently, just the same as the one time you showed Sukuna what a lap dance was.
Of course he’d enjoyed it.
However, where’d you fucked up was mentioning how your previous lovers had enjoyed it too—because your twerking had lasted all of 20 seconds. Sukuna had then pinned you down, growling as he called you all manners of vulgar slut-whore. The result was you limping for the next 2 days, fuck harder than he ever had previously, angered by the thought of you ever having done that for anyone else.
However, as much as you wanted to take your time torturing him for once, you were too selfish to deny yourself. The thought of you having control when fucking him has you dripping.
Settling back on top of him, you’re on all fours facing towards his cocks. Giving Sukuna a prime view of your pussy in those cheeky pieces of fabric you called undergarments.
This wasn’t a typical view for Sukuna, who was used to looking down at you when you sucked him off from a kneeling position—so he could see exactly how those fat tears would well in your eyes as he ruined your throat when he forced your head even further down.
But this view wasn’t so bad. The growing wet spot on your panties confirms his nose had been accurate. However, you do look every bit of the fiendish whore that you are, getting so wet for him when he hadn’t even touched you.
You’re in your own world though and you audibly gasp upon peeling back the lower half of his robes. Taken aback by the thick globs of pre that gather at the very tip of his engorged cockheads. His essence pools in the folds of his foreskin until no more fluid could be contained, overflowing down his uncut length.
You’d never seen him this leaky before.
Your pillowy lips experimentally blow cool air across both tips and Sukuna hisses as his cocks twitch in your hands. Wasting no time, your tongue deviantly flattens as you lick up the trail of dribble that ran down his upper shaft.
His lower cock was hardly forgotten as your thumb completely uncovers the hidden tip. The well of pre spilling from him allows you to more easily pump his slightly girthier length in circular motions while you continue to salaciously suckle the other.
Sukuna unwillingly rewards you with an audible grunt of pleasure.
“Hnng—Y-You’re a fuckin’ cocktease! S-Suck me right, whore!”
You giggle at his faltering voice and Sukuna smacks your ass in response. His heavy hand still stings your skin even in his weakened state, making you all the wetter.
For each kitten lick, a slap to one of your plump cheeks rings through his chamber.
Sukuna is captivated by the way your flesh molds to his touch. He kneads each of your cheeks in his giant hands, leaving them warm and tingling.
The abuse to your rear goes straight to your pussy. You forget for a second that it's Sukuna, and not yourself, who is supposed to be the subservient one in this situation.
“Hurry up, brat! You seriously think a half-assed job like that is enough for me to cum?”
In response to his provocations, your warm breath salivates over his swollen glands before entirely engulfing his upper cock.
Pulling off of him with a pop you alternate taking the other one into your mouth. Sukuna flinches as you swirl your tongue around his lengths. Vacuuming your lips, you alternate between the two twin cocks.
Sukuna grits his teeth.
He had taught you to take him completely, although he always forced your throat open. He was genuinely surprised that you could do it on your own, which, to be honest, you probably couldn't have done without the weed relaxing the muscles in your neck and throat.
That’s when you hear it—the tiniest of whines—but a whine nonetheless.
“HA! See!—Kunaaaa, did you actually—”
If you could have seen his face you would have giggled at the pink that lightly dusted his features. Regardless, Sukuna isn’t one to take being bested lightly.
Sukuna hooks a finger through the crotch of your panties, yanking up roughly. From this angle, the effect only puts tension on your pussy—tugging your panties taunt and compressing your clit. You keen loudly as you release his cocks, no longer able to focus on getting him off.
“FUUHHHHCK!”
One hand keeps your panties pulled taut, another hovers over the most heat of your core, lazily rubbing over your covered entrance. Your ever increasing wet spot has him in a trance like state as it spreads to take over your entire crotch area, dampening his fingers.
RIIIIIIIP!
Sukuna tears your underwear clean off, shredding them,
Damn. Those were one of your favorite pairs of lounging panties too!
You're ready to tell him off but you never get the chance as two large fingers bully their way into your pussy, leaving you sobbing.
Even over the vulgar sloshing of your sloppy hole, you can audibly hear a rough moan from Sukuna as your core constricts around his burly fingers. Your hands and knees tremble violently as you struggle to maintain your balance.
Sukuna’s tactile sensations at its peak, he is in awe of how well your gummy walls suck his thick digits in further. The velvety ridges of your cunt was like an incubator of fiery heat—a heat that may even rival that of his own divine flame technique.
“W-Waiiiiiiit—N-No fair, K-Kuna!”
Of course, your pleading slurs go unheeded.
Like a mortal who had dipped his hand into a heavenly jar of warm ambrosia, the allure of your cunt in his intoxicated state is bewitching to say the very least. Sukuna’s hyperfixation is focused on a single-minded mission to dig out more and more milky nectar from your convulsing lil’ hole.
Your searing walls clench down when a sharp nail grazes your g-spot. Crying out, your eyes sink back into your head and your slick pours down the length of his muscular forearm.
Sukuna enjoys making a mess of you.
Your fluids splash across his broad chest, arms and a bit even reaches his face—mouth forming on his cheek to greedily lick up your remains.
Even with limited control over his own faculties, Sukuna was still able to turn you into a quivering mess.
Dammit! You were supposed to be the one in control!
You can only weakly grasp at his cocks as the motions of his fingers switch from languid exploratory strokes to fast pumps, adding a third finger and pressing a thumb into the rim of your puckered hole.
Stirring up your insides, Sukuna, to be frank, isn’t doing it for your reactions but for your pussy’s.
Mind clouded, Sukuna fully dissociates once again in his enchantment of you, he doesn’t even realize you aren’t sucking him off any longer. He is much too distracted by every response your gooey cunt gifts him.
If anyone had asked him, in his utterly toked state, Sukuna would have sworn your cunt was actually squelching out full sentences. Sukuna, of course —fully fluent in ‘Cuntanese’—understands her with sparkling clarity.
She wanted more, to cum even harder.
She’s so fucking warm, so creamy, so lewd—all for him.
Becoming more sloppy and unaware in his actions, Sukuna’s growling increases. His current frustrations centered on needing to see more of your creamy slick spurt out of you.
Somehow all four of his hands are covered in your essence now. The hands with fingers not inside your pussy or rimming your ass, spread your cheeks wider, holding them up as the remaining one pinches your clit crudely.
Helplessly, ass up, you lay your head down on one of his upper thighs. You drag your nails alongside his hips hoping to disrupt his daze, but on the contrary, it does nothing but spur on Sukuna’s mania further.
The both of you being high made the situation that much worse.
Sukuna’s fingers drive you towards oblivion, crashing into ecstasy. The edges of your vision smoldered, blurring your sight. You aren’t sure if the sun had finally set and the stars you saw were in the sky or behind your own lids, momentarily disassociating from pure pleasure.
With a scream, you cum for the second time, your eyes locked behind your skull and your legs spasming as waves of pleasure make your hips twitch uncontrollably.
Holy fuck!!! You’d never cum that hard while high before!
Sukuna finally snaps out of his enthralled reverie, only to discover you’ve been reduced to a mere puddle on his torso. Your holes are agape and swollen from his brutality, glistening with fluids that hadn’t stopped dripping onto him yet.
You practically see his smug grin, a fang poking out from his lips, just from his smarmy tone.
“Heh—giving up that easy just from a couple fingers in your cunny, brat? Thought you were gonna fuck me?”
You whine. Even if his own voice sounded a bit strained it was nothing compared to your own condition. Yet despite your rubbery limbs, you muster the strength to push your jellied body up—determined to have your way with him.
Sukuna chuckles at your persistence.
The mouth on his stomach opens to lap away at the remains of your squirt on his torso and your slick-coated thighs. The thick slimy tongue has you jolting forward with a rippling moan when it flicks over your sensitive clit.
“Heh, woman, you look like shit.”
HA! How are you going to fuck him when you could barely be touched without shaking?
Sukuna guess you’ll be tapping out before the first round is over, tch—of course you’d need him to take over.
Testing his condition, Sukuna raises his head only to be immediately slammed with vertigo rushing psychedelic colors behind his eyes. He curses lowly to himself, still pissed the plant is having this much of an effect on him.
Sukuna makes a promise to himself that he will in fact kill you, iif you leave him blue balled because of this. The high causes his cocks to ache more than ever.
“Tch—If you’re going to do it, then do it. Fuck me then, ya nasty lil’ slut.”
Sukuna was right, you are a slut.
Fucked out by his fingers or not, your still aching pussy wouldn’t be satisfied until she was stuffed full of him.
But it would still be on your terms.
Sukuna looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to move and feigning boredom.
However, his mood turns to annoyance though when he notices you only plan to take his bottom cock, he didn’t work that ass of yous ass open for nothing.
“BRAT—”
“—SHUT IT and let me concentrate if you wanna get your nut!”
You do quiet him though, once you manage to squeeze his thick cockhead into your cunt. Pussy clenching around his tip like a vacuum suction, you hear Sukuna slurp a thick wad of spit through his teeth as he grinds down on them.
It was cute, him trying not to react to you, That serves as enough encouragement to keep you from mentally succumbing to the monstrous girth entering you—for now at least.
Easing yourself lower on his fat girth, you’re panting, tongue out and hips quivering just from getting the head of him inside.
You’d learned to take him well enough, but that was when he was the one bullying himself into you. Having to mount him yourself was daunting to say the least. Only halfway in and your guts are shifting while moisture burns the corners of your eyes.
This was the exact reason you chose not to take in both his cocks.
You would struggle enough with just one of them.
His cock inside you, already pressed against your cervix, he is almost 3/4ths in and you have no idea how you will manage the rest. Suddenly wondering if Sukuna uses some kind of curse technique to fit all of him inside you without skewing your organs.
“Shiiiiit, f-fuckin’ dummy thick monster c-cock, this b-big for no f-fuckin’ reason…”
You mumble to yourself, clearly floundering.
Sukuna smirks at your labored efforts but his mask cracks as you finally surrender to gravity and bottom out on him—the resulting cry from him is somewhere between a growl and a whine.
That was the end of resistance for Sukuna.
His ultra-sensitive cock twitching in the sweltering embrace of your gummy walls, convinced his dick might melt off then and there—the heat, he decided, was most definitely hotter than his divine flames.
Once nside you, Sukuna returns his bruising grip to your hips. His trembling fingers betray the fact he still doesn’t have the capacity to regain control anytime soon.
Exhaling your own shaky breath, legs under you, you lean back. One of your arms reaching back to plant on his muscular thigh, the other pressing his unattended shaft into the soft curves of your belly, adjusting yourself so its base brushes up against your clit.
Your warmth welcomes his unsheathed cock like a soft pillow and he’s biting his lips again, blood trickling down his chin.
Although he’s still leaking more than enough pre for lubricant, you still dip your head forward momentarily to drop a large wad of dribble on the cock nestled against your curves.
Your perverse acts are the cherry on top for Sukuna, who keens out a moan so loud, so needy and pathetic, it has your own toes curling. Fueling you to milk more from him as you bring down your hips harder, morphing The Curse King to goop beneath you.
Your own whimpers are just as obscene from the sight of his length extending past your belly button. It was surreal to see a distinct outer visual of just how deep his inner cock is inside you, you could feel them press together through your skin.
God, he was nearly in your ribs.
“S-Shiiiiiiit—M-MOVE! Ya f-fuckin’ dumbass brat!”
Sukuna yells at you, speech slurring, as his nails prick into your skin slightly.
You chose not to sass him this time though, too needy for it as well.
Establishing a rhythm, if you had the capacity to imagine anything beyond how his cock was spearing you open between your thighs—you might have mused that any curses in his palace—Uraume especially, must be absolutely terrified at what has their fearsome master is sobbing so wretchedly.
You’re thrilled at the idea of having transformed the most powerful cursed sorcerer into the crumbling virgin-like man beneath you.
You feel your body tremble as his swollen member throbs intensely inside you, causing you to sense the rhythmic pulsation of his heart resonating deeply within your being. Sukuna's face, usually composed, now displays an unexpectedly stressed expression, which only adds to his adorableness.
Yet, your own eyes were crossing so bad you couldn’t even enjoy your victory like you want.
Desperately moaning, you’re lifting yourself up and down, riding him in earnest as you fuck yourself dumb on his huge girth. Just one of Sukuna’s cocks were so intoxicating and you realized, the privilege of actually having him fuck you instead of you doing the work.
In order to guarantee both of your pleasures.
But you are hardly giving up—slippery fluids create delicious friction as his top cock also slides over your swollen clit. Your tits bounce lively every time your tight soggy pussy devours his cock back down to the base. The sound of skin slapping echoes throughout the room, only overshadowed by Sukuna's unusual cries of pleasure.
Your inner thighs ache from exertion but you are in the zone now. You’ve willingly become your own torturer as you impale yourself on him.
Mind floating away as you treat his cock thrusted against your belly like a fidget toy. Your nails mindlessly rim the edges of his foreskin before grasping the tip of his cockhead, sliding the last bit of skin down to fully expose his angry bulbous tip. You squeeze him tightly while your other hand comes from behind you to pump the base.
While Sukuna’s lower hands still desperately hang on to your hips, he's since thrown one of his upper hands over his face much to his chagrin. The other, claws fully extended, proceeds to tear up the tatami matting of his floor.
Sukuna’s pitchy whimpers and badly suppressed whines have you so hot you forget yourself once again. Chasing your own pleasure, you pump his upper cock like slippery reigns as you ride him.
And that is exactly what breaks him.
Peeking out from under his forearm, Sukuna observes how your head is like a bobble, lulling with your movements as your slackened jaw so dumbly seeps drool down your body. All thought leaving your silly little head, babbling nonsensical coos and praises for his big cock ruining you.
Despite not being in control, Sukuna still feels a strange wave of warmth spread in his chest from watching you fuck yourself completely fucking stupid on him. The feeling instantly has his balls tightening, resulting in his upper cock twitching so violently that it even catches your fucked out attention.
You glance down just as his engorged length finally relieves itself, spurting out a geyser of cum all over you.
Sukuna releases a moan that is husky, deep and guttural—quite literally guttural—as he had just moaned from the mouth on his stomach. His upper cock is still spraying a hefty load of cum that covers your stomach, thighs and some even shooting up to hit you right below your eye.
Your eyes widen.
“Did you just moan from your tummy!?”
You’re hardly in the position to tease him though, disheveled and covered in his sticky essence.
You were quite the mess in your own right—heh, but you still weren’t the first to cum!
Sukuna glares at you, panting through his scowl with watery eyes.
Leaning forward, you continue to taunt him, keeping your hand firmly around his now flaccid member. Sukuna flinches and hisses, attempting to swat your hands away, but he finds himself even more weakened than before, unable to pry you away.
“Hmm, are you trying to tell me you prefer my hands over my pussy?l Or are you just this much of a slut for getting your nasty foreskin played with, Daddy?”
His lower cock pulses at your words, still painfully hard inside you, reminding you of your own needs. You don’t wait for Sukuna’s response before you’re back bouncing on him with increased fervor, pulling at your neglected tits and still giving him shit.
“C’mon Daddy, talk to me. You love it when your lil’ slut rides you while she’s all sticky, covered in your cum, yeah?”
For emphasis your fingers swirl shapes into the streaks of spunk on your belly, sloppily writing out the Kanji for “Sukuna” over your womb.
Sukuna’s face beet red from the anger and shame of having been reduced to a mere plaything for you.
Writing his name on you with his cum!? Fuckin’ debased, foul, nasty wh—
“Oh my, you’re backed up, Daddy. I can feel you twitching—a-ah!”
You snap him out of the turmoil of his thoughts with the lazy lust-filled evil saturated in your voice as you moan out more torturous, mind melting words for Sukuna.
“Y-ou’re gonna have to tell me before you cum, Kuna, kay? You spray this much inside me, with this thick monstrous cock of yours—you’ll get me pregnant, ya know. You wouldn’t want that—or do you?”
Your fingers play in his essence on your belly once more, circling the Kanji cum scribbles of his name branded on your skin.
“Bet ya wanna fill my tight lil’ pussy to the brim—force me to carry your lil’ curse-spawn-terrors—make you a real daddy, Daddy. You’d like that, huh?”
Sukuna’s sweat slicked hands struggle to hold onto you, throwing his head back so he doesn’t have to look at you.
He can’t keep you in his sights as he can’t stop the vision of you, being completely made his—belly full of his growing seed and tits full of milk—from invading his mind.
Dizzy, Sukuna can only think with his cock as you ride him towards nirvana. He’s almost at his greatly diminished limit again, his stamina now a joke of his usual.
Chasing your own high, you rub at your clit vigorously while you grind yourself against him. Your pussy spasming around his length that stretches you so well. Body wrecking itself with pleasure, your cries grow louder and more desperate.
So close. You’re so close. So clo—
But Sukuna is first yet again—crooning out a choked roar as he cums again, this time inside you.
With no warning....asshole.
Nevertheless, the satisfying warmth of his seed bursting against your cervix has you moaning from the overwhelmingly full feeling in your guts. Creampie frothing out of you, gathering at the base of his cock.
You were low key surprised that you were able to goad him into doing it at all. You weren’t seriously trying to get pregnant—just tease him a bit. You didn’t know he’d be this into breeding fantasies, as even though you are on birth control Sukuna for damn sure didn't trust any human pill to stop his cursed seed, always pulling out.
“W-Woah, this makes it, what? The second time you’ve cum before me—and inside me now too!”
The streaks on Sukuna’s furious cheeks leave behind evidence of the few tears you’d managed to fuck out of him.
“Aweee Kuna, should I call ‘Baby’ now? Only babies cry and cream before Mommy does.”
Sukuna chest heaves, staring death at you as he gives you the finger—one of the few modern gestures he’d picked up.
You laugh, although your body winces as you slide his thick softening member out of you.
Globs of your shared fluids drip out of you and onto his torso when you finally will yourself to stand-up over Sukuna, smugness radiating in your whole demeanor.
Desiring to remove that smug expression from your face, as well as your head, he cannot recall a time when he was defeated to such an extent since he was last imprisoned and his fingers were scattered.
Teetering on your cramping legs, you delight in your victory nonetheless. Taking your time in soaking up the image of him, grumpy, soiled, and flaccid, imprinting it in your mind to throw it in his face the next time he decides to get sassy with you.
You know he’s likely going to kill you for what you were about to do, but you’d never get a chance to do something like this again.
Besides, he surely has weed dick now given his still flaccid cocks and you still need to come!
Sauntering to stand by his head, your soft foot presses down on his clavicle, prompting Sukuna to bare his teeth while a clawed hand comes to wrap around your ankle.
“Heel, Kuna. You still have to make me cum.”
“I don’t have to do fucking shit but make good on my promise to rip you apart once this bullshit wears off.”
You pay him no mind as your foot shifts to raise his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze while your fingers swiftly glide up your inner thighs to spread your pussy lips. His cum still trickling out from the creamy plug that is visibly filling your center.
“Eat it.”
Sukuna looks at you skeptically, like you just lost the little remaining sanity your crazy ass had in the first place.
Who the fuck did you think you were?
To one—have him take a command from you, and two—actually think he’d let you dominate him in such a way.
Sukuna scoffs.
“Sit on my stomach and I might let you cum, brat.”
“Nuh-uh, Kuna—I wanna ride your actual face. It’s the least you can do after you came before me twice!”
Trying not to visibly wince, Sukuna was so over your nagging and constant reminders of how weak he was while high, trying to tune you out.
“...and then inside me without warning—like you don’t give a fuck if I happen to get pregnant!”
“I don't, get pregnant.”
“I—wait…WHAT?!”
You must have heard wrong.
Sukuna would want a lobotomy before a kid.
He always pulled out.
He just did not tell you to get pregnant.
No way!
Sukuna growls, he’s admittedly getting tired, but it's clear you wouldn’t give him any rest until you came once more. Well, at least with a mouth full of pussy he couldn’t say anymore wildly embarrassing shit he didn’t mean.
He really didn’t want kids, but picturing you pregnant made his dicks so unfathomably hard in the moment, it was confusing, not to mention infuriating. However, the last damned thing Sukuna wanted to do was talk about his slip up.
Left with no choice but to eat you out nasty enough for you to forget all about it.
“I SAID—If you don’t want to get pregnant, then park that ass of yours on my face, bitch.”
You bristle at Sukuna calling you a bitch, yet you let it pass once all four of his arms yank you down to sit you directly on his face, his tongue plunging straight into your gooey cunt.
And true to his skills, the conversation was the last thing on your mind, having been scrubbed of all thoughts once you felt his hot mouth consuming your sensitive flesh.
Sukuna's tongue traces torturous circles on your clit, before grazing it with sharp canine, prompting your hands to delve into his unruly locks. The grunts that escape Sukuna's lips as you tug on his hair intensify the pleasurable tingling in your pussy, compelling you to pull even harder.
To your delight, what his primary tongue lacks in girth compared to the one on his stomach, it makes up for in dexterity. Sukuna laps, swirls and twists through your folds. His tongue darts in and out of your wet slit so vulgarly leaking his cum, sending tremors up your spine.
Choking on your whimpers, your hips can’t stop shaking and Sukuna has to brace your thighs down to keep you in place. Sukuna wasn’t about to let you run from it now, not after all the shit you put him through.
You begged to cum in his mouth—so you are going to cum in his fucking mouth.
You cry out when a hand reaches up to manhandle your chest, pinching at your nipples and rolling them between his gruff fingers. The pair of hands on your thighs move to your ass, gripping your flesh overflowing in his grasp.
Gasping, your mouth falls open, when his fingers massage your ass, spreading it open as he tilts you back to spit into your hole. Replacing his own mouth with one on his hand as he returns his attention back to your savory lil’ cunt.
Shiiiiiit!
Feels so good, you’re so close to cumming again. Your body trembles, the fire inside you spreading from your core to your fingertips as your face contorted in pleasure.
“Su-S-Sukuna, pleeeaseee, Daddy.”
You’re not even sure what you are asking for at this point, you just want more of it.
More of everything.
Sukuna, obliges you.
Losing himself in your lust, his panting becomes more wet and ragged. He’s painfully aroused once again, this time simply from listening to your whiney pleas. Sukuna’s tongue digs into your cunt deeper, scooping out his own cum and devouring it along with the continuous flow of your own fluids gushing out of you.
Your taste is much sweeter, cutting the unpleasant taste of his own salty spunk, so Sukuna relentlessly sucks more out of you.
Sukuna is so caught up in giving you pleasure, he’s completely unaware of the fact he’s now humping the air, cocks flinging pre on his abs as they sway against the imaginary friction.
“K-Kuna, I’mma—shiiiiit—cum!”
You clench a fist full of his hair, nails digging into his scalp. You continuously buck your hips forward, your clit brushing agonizingly up against his nose. Quivering, glorious waves of pleasure wash over you, Sukuna knows all your pleasure spots as he easily takes you to the very heights of your ecstasy.
Sputtering moans nonsensically, you nearly slip off Sukuna completely when you tilt back too far. You unintentionally end up choking him as you catch yourself by grasping onto his neck for support.
Sukuna, caught off guard, gags. The intense vibrations from him choking on your pussy as he heaves for air tips you right over the edge. Your world washes white as you cum, thighs and hips and convulsing.
Outlasting you this time by a hair, Sukuna cums hard, his milky fluids jetting out from his cocks to spill onto his stomach—shooting up as far as to land on your back.
Dazed from your orgasm you don’t actually realize he'd cum again until you actually slip on the mess he’s made when you begin to climb off his face.
“D’aww, Baby done messed himself bad this time, huh?”
“Perish.”
Weariness seeps through his tone, betraying the fatigue that weighed on him after cumming even harder than the previous two times.
Silence fills the space as neither of you noticed before how the sun had long since set. The soft moonbeams were the only source of light in his chambers, illuminating the space more than usual, due to the now destroyed wall.
Your bones feel like mush but you still manage to grab Sukuna’s discarded robe, using it to somewhat wipe off your bodies.
Sukuna doesn’t register how intensely he’s staring at you, having dissociated once more.
His arrogance is replaced by a strange look of infatuation—well strange for him.
Sukuna is lost again, charmed by your shining aura in the lunar light. The very essence of your soul glows iridescently to him, even in darkness.
He muses there’s not a being, human nor curse, as captivating as y—TCH, THE FUCK?!
Whatever you gave him was turning him into a real fuckin’ sap, thats for damn sure.
Sukuna needed this nightmare to be over, and have neither of you ever speak of it again.
You on the other hand are doing your best to fight the urge to bashfully shrink away. There were typically only 3 emotions that ever appeared on Sukuna’s face: brooding, predatory or straight up hostile.
Him looking at you this way is freaking you out.
“You’re a weirdo.”
Sukuna exhales, exasperated.
He doesn’t know what to do with you. His troublesome lil’ human that, for some insane reason, he’d formed an attachment to beyond using as a cocksleeve.
“Then you’re a dumb slut who likes to fuck weirdos, brat.”
Shoving your face into his neck, you inhale the scent of his skin and your sex.
“Got me there, Daddy.”
Nibbling up to his chin, one of his arms wrap around you, bringing you impossibly closer when your teeth graze over his sweat slicked Adam's apple.
Grinning at him, you lick up any of your essence lingering on his face.
“You know, I’m going into the city with Uraume next week—I could get some more of this shit, we could actually smoke it next time, hm?”
“You could also be a corpse scattered in a million pieces by then.”
Although Sukuna’s yawns sound more like roars, he can’t even bring himself to be annoyed at his displays of weakness any longer. The edible enhanced the stated feelings of the after sex high, amplifying it a hundred fold and making him unusually docile.
Even if Sukuna could now understand why mortals do this for “fun”, he personally just never wanted near the stuff again—let alone in his fucking palace.
But he’d fight you over that later.
“Moreover, I will literally never eat any of your concoctions again.”
You’re yawning too, the effect being contagious as the question absentmindedly slips from your lips.
“...Hm, s’that so? *yawn* ….Well why did ya in the first place, Kuna?”
Tsk, stupid woman—because you made them, of course.
Sukuna said it in his head.
Sukuna swore he said it in his head.
But when you immediately bolt upright, eyes expanding like saucers, he knows he fucked up.
Attempting to recover, he tacks on a brash comment. Remarking on how he knew consuming them all would piss you off—oh and it had—but in this case, the damage had already been done.
Concern flashing across your eyes, you hurriedly brush your fingers through his rosy locks. Picking and prodding, firmly turning his head from side to side, until Sukuna’s own hands entrap yours, pausing your frantic actions.
“And just what the fuck are you doing now, woman?!”
“Checking for stitches.”
Sukuna gives a disgruntled snort, scoffing at your foolishness.
“I’m serious! Kenjaku’s not in there with you, is he?!”
“You must actually think I won’t kill you, brat….”
You giggle softly, satisfied with his answer as you peck tender kisses on his lips but Sukuna is unmoved.
Sukuna hardly ever kisses you to be fair—but you’d just fucked him to tears!
The least he can do to repay you is a kiss!
“C’mon Kuna, stick out your tongue a lil’ for me.”
Sukuna stares at you unamused.
“Aweee—Please, Daddy?”
Your words hang in the air, a rebuttal poised on the edge of his lips.
But upon meeting your bright angelic eyes, Sukuna in a moment of unexpected impulse, closes the gap between you.
Your lips clash as you breathe in one another. The kiss is less urgent than your earlier cravings, but just as filled with desire. A tumultuous dance of tongues and teeth, fueled by some magnetic pull that would likely never be vocalized in words—yet you still feel everything Sukuna leaves unsaid.
You smile once he allows you to pull back for air, blowing a kiss at him before resting your head back on his chest. Your body easily molds over him and his remaining arms snake around your form.
All of Sukuna’s eyes were closed, the welcome heaviness behind his lids extending down through his entire being.
Honestly, this is the most at peace he’s been in centuries.
“Mmm…one more question, Kuna?”
Of course, you would be the one to disturb that though.
“Only if you promise to go the fuck to sleep after, brat.”
You nod into his chest, your hands only cupping a tiny part of his biceps as your manicured nails trace along his tattoos.
“How’d they taste?”
Seriously?
You’re fucking insufferable.
But Sukuna is way too over it all to fight you right now. His entire body feels akin to a giant sandbag with every passing second.
“Decent. Now sleep.”
Your shrill squeal has him regretting his compliment immediately.
“Aweee Kuna, Daddy! You big softie! Next you’ll be telling me you love me, huh?”
Tsk, and this is exactly why Sukuna would fuck you unconscious—so he didn’t have to put up with your nonsensical overly emotional prattling after. The intimacy of pillow talk has him queasier than the vertigo he’d experienced earlier.
“I loathe you.”
“Love you t—”
Faster than you can react, his powerful hands move, grappling your head down and clamping over your mouth instantly.
“SLEEP!”
Listening to the grumbles resonating in his chest from Sukuna's unintelligible muttered curses, you hum contentedly with his hand over your mouth, a simple ghost of a smile lingering on your lips as you ease into a comforting slumber.
The next morning, you are stirred awake by blinding sunlight.
Still lethargic from the night before, and totally not a morning person, you try to roll over. Yet you find yourself unable to move.
Huh?
Wanting to rub your eyes clear of sleep, you become aware that your hands, for some reason, are behind your back and are also immobilized.
Panic begins to set in. You fear it might be a bad bout of sleep paralysis—that is, until you hear Sukuna’s dark voice bellow over you sarcastically.
“Oh? What’s this? The lazy whore finally arises…”
Heart pounding anxiously, your bleary eyes open to the vision of Sukuna’s form towering over you next to his bed.
Ok, at least he had the decency to—
A flash of red catches your eye.
Oh, fuck…
Entangled in the shibari frog-tie position—you are bound in complex knots. The thick silk crimson ropes intricately weave their way around your naked body.
Tied with seasoned precision, the visually striking pattern of the ropes accentuated your body’s serpentine contours. Knees bent, your plump thighs are spread wide and apart, which secure to your calves.
You feel a chill run through you as the early morning air breezes past your cunt, fully exposed as the ropes are the only thing adorning you.
Equally excited as you are terrified, your squirms cause the diamond cut pattern to imprint deeper into your supple skin. Shivering under his smolder, goosebumps erupt across your skin and fat tears well on the edges of your eyes.
Sukuna sinks low to crouch over you.
“Now, now—”
His powers fully restored, the depraved smirk Sukuna wears is the most chilling you’d ever seen.
“—you didn’t delude your silly little head into thinking I wouldn’t get my turn, now did you?”
Sukina cups your face, the mouth on his hand savoring your tears.
The harsh reality donning upon you as to how fucked you really are in this situation right now.
Shifting his grasp to squeeze your cheeks, Sukuna forces your mouth open.
Fully awake, your eyes nearly pop out of your head as Sukuna unveils a platter—the same platter bearing the last remaining manju edible.
“Now fucking say ‘ahh’ for Daddy, brat.”
©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.
» a/n: what you think of 420 Sukuna? Hopefully it wasn't too long/dragged on? this is meant to be a one shot btw. im really not trying to do a p2 (please, lmfao i cant). i still have a toji 420 fic half written and an idea for nanami but putting those on the back burner to finish another installment of otaku!gojo or nerd geto p2, one of those will be next. i promise! taglist will be in reblogs.
comments & reblogs make my coochie cream
#✎ᝰ𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉¢σσкѕ#✎ᝰ𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉¢σσкє∂тнαт#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen#sukuna x you#sukuna x black!reader#jjk sukuna#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna smut#sukuna x female reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x thicc reader#sukuna x black reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x black reader#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna#jujutsu kaisen sukuna
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cregan stark x f!targaryen!reader
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>Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark.
cw: slow burn, fluff, eventual smut, angst, follows book events with slight deviations, im planning to let jacaerys live! every chapter is around 2k wc
chapter cw: tension, fluff, a little angst, they are starting to fall for eachother
“The ceremony will be held tomorrow.” Cregan’s deep and steely voice rings with an imposing echo onto the stone walls of the great hall of Winterfell. “My lady is worn from the journey.”
Although the order seemingly held some benevolence to your sore legs and southern blood barely adjusting to the newfound cold, his voice feels so detached that you find yourself wondering whether he truly did care for your spirits, or if he only wished it as a polite formality.
“I will take my leave before sundown, sister.” Jacaerys places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I must be back at Dragonstone before the new moon.”
“Ill news?” you ask, already troubled and feeling incapacitated from protecting and helping your family.
“Ser Criston Cole marches on Duskendale lands. I must be present at the council to take action.”
“What about me?” You worry, and only after speaking do you realize how stupid the question was.
Jacaerys takes a moment to reply, evidently not wanting to make you feel more secluded than you were.
“I will not make any decision that you wouldn't have in my stead.” He decides, “I will send you ravens to inform you, and represent you.” a pause, “unofficially.”
There is nothing more to be said. Any words he could sweeten end with the same inevitable finale. No raven could fly fast enough to deliver your ideas soon enough for the Greens not to gain an advantage over the reluctance of your team.
You are a pawn. Your dragon is a pawn. And you will only read about the war as if it were history before you could contribute.
“I understand.” You manage to let out without showing how disturbed you are and possibly making the northern lords think that you were terrified to marry their leader.
With a hug too frail to even begin to express how much you will miss him, your brother mounts his dragon after the welcoming festivities in the great hall and takes off with a blow of wings that normally would have had you taking a few steps back from Vermax.
But now it didn't matter anymore. You watch as your only friend dissolves into the skies thick with white clouds, becoming nothing but a raven in the distance.
Suvion cries out, a sharp, strained screech that only pain as great as yours could have caused, and the clouds answer, though you cannot see him anymore.
You are taken aback at the feeling of heavy pelts placed upon your shoulders, and only then you realize how cold you are. Your frigid fingers reach around your own neck to grasp at it and keep it from falling.
“The cold is treacherous. One moment you may think you're warm, and the following, your heart stops.” Cregan comes to stand next to you, looking away to where Vermax had disappeared.
“Thank you, my lord.” You speak coyly, quietly, so he wouldn't catch the crack in your voice and think you weak and soft. Perhaps in a different situation, you would have blushed at his kindness, but the ice wall you felt between you and him was now more palpable than ever. Alone, with a stranger.
“You should come inside.” He insists, but it is not advice, it's a courteous command.
Without a word, you turn and listen. You are escorted to your chamber in the castle, and as you pass through the halls, you look around like a lowborn in a dragonpit. At least that's what it must look like, but in your heart it was storming; how different the place was from what you have known your whole life, the people, the sounds in the yard, the very air of the keep.
He stops in front of your door, beckoning you inside.
“Send for me should you need anything your handmaiden cannot provide.”
His voice is softer, as if trying to indulge you and your loss. As if he understands.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Cregan.”
You do not know for certain if there truly is a gleam of affection in his eyes as he says it, but you do know that you held yourself back from leaning forward in his arms.
Oh, how you wanted to just let it out, and how you wanted him to hold you through it. To offer some comfort that, at least, he cared for you. That he wasn't a cold hearted man with nothing warmer than diplomatic skills. Whom you would have to learn how to love the hard way. Only you know how your heart briefly yearned for him to offer you strength.
But alas, it was not proper. Too soon.
“Cregan.” You accept, and he barely hears it. Your heart sinks when he nods politely and slowly shuts the door, and it sinks further at the sound of his boots on the cold stone outside your chamber, walking away.
A terribly tragic thought slips into your tired mind; that he is betrothed to you, yet his heart belongs to another. Northerners love northerners, and the Stark men have mostly married into vassal houses of the north in the past.
No matter how loyal he is to be from now, his thoughts will always be about her, the people will always know about her.
Suvion's head appears at your window, blocking out the moonlight.
“Oh, you,” You whine, opening the windows and laying your upper body on his snout.
You hear someone gasp and scream in the courtyard, no doubt because of the dragon clawing at the walls of the castle.
“We should find some place good for you. Somewhere safe and warm.” He growls sorrowfully, as if aware.
But it doesn't last long. As quickly as he came at the window, Suvion rips away from your touch and carefully leaps out of the castle yard and up into the night sky. His otherwise white scales now partly reflect the dark of night in their shine, making it impossible for you to even tell how high up he was.
Alone again. You knew he wouldn't go far, that he only needed to hunt and come back, but you wished for leverage that was now gone.
Restless and troubled, you decide to take a stroll around the keep that is to be yours in less than a day.
You follow your curiosity back to the great hall, from where you hear whispered voices and see glimmers of lit torches.
“...of the beast. Food is scarce.”
“It will set eyes upon us.”
“Lord Glover, this is necessary. I do not wish-”
The lords at the table turn abruptly at the sight of the shadow you cast into the obscured hall.
“My lady. Is everything alright?” You hear Cregan's voice, his face away from light.
You feel embarrassed and stupid, interrupting a clearly important talk of resources that did not yet concern you and making the impression of a spoiled, uneducated woman.
“No- I didn't mean to intrude.”
“You could never be intruding on talks of our domain.” He attempts to soothe your nerves, although the implication of responsibilities is indomitable in his tone.
You approach them, carefully eyeing the other lords, feeling quite literally akin to a lizard slithering into a den of wolves. You cannot read anything on their stern faces, and it doesn't fail to make you uneasy and put your guard up.
“The dragon, my lady,” one of them starts, a man well past his youth, “he is a welcomed weapon in the North, although -”
“Although it is true that war has brought us both here, my lord, a dragon is not a weapon.” You warn with a poised expression, as respectfully as you could, yet fire dripped from your words.
The other men frowned in surprise and disapproval, but said nothing. You glance at Cregan, by your side, hoping to be faced with kindness, but instead your heart skips a beat at the sight of a cutthroat look he was throwing at the men, protective of your contribution.
“-apologies. The dragon is a welcomed ally. But livestock is barely enough to get us through what's to come. What are we to offer? Sheep?”
“We have endured harsher winters with lesser than we have today.” Your betrothed reassures, despite the evident growing concern.
“Suvion is big enough to hunt for himself, I dare say. The cold doesn't seem to burden him. There is absolutely no need to thin out the herd for him, my lords.”
You struggle to conceal a sharp gasp when his hand runs up your lower back. A way to show approval of your input, no doubt, yet you find that every crumble of affection he grants you is more than enough to spark fire in your body. Is that what you have come to?
You were worried enough that the rough stoicism of the north man wouldn't provide half the love you dreamed of, yet now you falter on that thought. If such a touch is already setting you alight, what would more do?
“A good omen. Prince Velaryon’s first visit wasn't as uneventful.”
“It is settled then. We will discuss other matters after the wedding.” He commanded, and your stomach flipped at the mention of your union.
With the lords out of the room, Cregan turns to you.
“I thought you would be resting. It's near the hour of the ghosts.” He speaks gently with a warm vibration in his voice, as if you have been wedded for years and he knows all about your practices and nature.
“I couldn't. The more I lay there waiting, the more it felt like I would never find sleep again.”
A faint smile lights up your tense visage, an instinctual way of wanting to see him soften as well.
He looks intently, clearly understanding of your friendliness, but it does nothing to soothe his brow further.
“Come. I wish to speak with you, since neither of us cannot find slumber.”
Neither of us? What is that supposed to mean?
You once again hook your arm around his, his body heat immediately warming you up and putting you at ease. He leads you into his chambers, a strong fire already lit in the hearth.
“Is this proper?”
“Whoever shall dare speak ill of my wife will never speak again.”
A shiver runs up your spine. Whether it's a pleasant or a distressed one, you cannot tell anymore.
“I know how you must feel, although it may not seem like it.” He begins, beckoning you to sit on the edge of the bed. “It's the duty that comes with the name.”
“Yes.” You agree, wanting to hear more of what he wishes to tell you. “Although my biggest concern lies with my position. I feel…” You cease before you could say something like “trapped” or “exiled”. He has been nothing but good to you since you arrived and you do not want to seem ungrateful or hostile. You do like him.
But before you could find the right words, he kneels in front of you on the floor and takes your hands in his. Your heart stops. Your brain shuts down. Gods.
“-powerless.” He untangles your mind and finishes your thought. “But you aren't. We will offer help, I do not intend to trample the oath I swore to your brother. The oath I am to swear to you.” He adds, his tone is soft and tender yet his words so meaningful and heavy, you hear them as though their echo reverberated in the entire room around you.
His thumb delicately rubs over your knuckles, his expression as stoic as ever, only his actions speak differently. He leans forward and places a kiss on the back of your hand, assuring and loving.
You draw in a sharp breath, as if you haven't felt affection before in your life.
“Cregan.” is all you manage.
“It is true that this union was made with interest. But you are not unwanted, my lady. I believe we will find more than allies in each other.”
TAGS!! im sorry for those that don't work its tumblr's fault i checked all of them multiple times
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#house of the dragon#cregan stark#cregan stark x reader#wyvernest#cregan stark imagine#cregan stark x oc#cregan x reader#cregan fanfiction#hotd jacaerys#prince jacaerys#jacaerys targaryen#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys x reader#alicent hightower#rhaenyra targaryen#daemon targaryen#aemond targaryen#benjicot blackwood#cregan stark x female reader#cregan stark x y/n#cregan stark x you#house stark#house targaryen#game of thrones#a song of ice and fire
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HI ILY!!! i was wondering if u could do a argument fic likeeeee katsuki and reader got into a argument and they are both DISTRAUGHT bc they’re so corny and in love and hate fighting but the argument was bad and they’re oh so sad whatever whatever !! and katsuki has to make it up to them EEE !! PLEASE I LIVE EAT SLEEP AND BREATHE UR FANFICS !! LOVE U CASHHH🤍
operation : trouble in paradise !
katsuki tries to get his boyfriend privileges back..
EEEE TYSM AND I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS ASK !! Its my guilty pleasure like both parties hating to argue bc they love each other so much im so sorry that’s adorable. and again ty SOOO much !!! hope you enjoy, ive actually gotten a similar ask, so that one ill try to have that come out soon !
FEM READER, katsuki is melodramatic, argument, fluff fluff despite argument, 3rd year bk squad boys !, kissing, making up yipeee, reader likes flowers,lemme know if i missed sum else !
“she fuckin’ hates me.”
for the past ten minutes he’d barged into kirishima’s room, bakugou has been moping. wallowing, even.
“no she doesn’t, man..” kirishima reassured. for the umpteenth time, he’s honestly lost count. he’d tried putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder earlier but said boy had shrugged him off angrily, grumbling out a dramatic “don’t touch me.” despite being flopped face down on his bed.
“i know her better, kirishima. yes she does.” the blonde insists, voice muffled by the redhead’s pillows. kirishima sighs, patting his friends leg before making his way to his office chair across from the bed, ignoring the muffled grumbles bakugou lets out.
“how bout you just..go apologize ?”
“i already told you i can’t. she—”
“yeah, she hates you. got it.” kirishima finishes his friends sentence, causing the blond to groan. “look dude, you’ll never know unless you try. you’ve been together for ages now.”
“a year.” katsuki corrects, he purposely forgets to mention he knows exactly how many months it has been too. kirishima nods excitedly, trying to get him out of his frankly sad state. “yeah ! so, this shouldn’t be anything man. arguments happen all the time, no matter how much you love each other.”
katsuki feels his ears burn at the word love on his friends lips, he’s told you he loved you of course. but it still felt weird to acknowledge it.
he turns just enough for his scowl to be visible to his friend, who sends him an encouraging smile.
“so what the fuck do i do then ?” kirishima grins wider, sharp teeth on display. “there we go, that’s more like ya, dude !” he exclaims. he quickly shuffles to grab a notepad strewn onto his messy desk (kirishima’s desk was so messy it made katsuki itch sometimes, a shiver almost passes through him whenever he sees the state it’s in)
kirishima drops onto the floor, placing the notepad onto his mattress and scribbling, with a pen katsuki has no idea where he fished out, a messy “operation: get your bf privileges back !!!!!!” bakugou fixes kirishima with a dead look, the other only tilts his head, still cheerful.
“what ?”
“what the fuck is this, kirishima.”
kirishima scoffs at the blonde’s dead tone, “listen man, you wanna win your girlfriend back or not ?!” bakugou squints at him, hard. but only let’s out a loud sigh. kirishima takes that as his answer and with a nod continues writing down notes.
katsuki groans to himself, looking down at his friend scribbling down his grand plan, and he better hope it works.
maybe you should call him..
no, you won’t. it was his fault you were like this anyway.
..but maybe you went a bit too far..?
ugh. you groan, rolling around in your bed. you’d tried to distract yourself by going through your tiktok feed but it seemed the world was against you or your fbi agent hated your guts. your feed was either overly cutesy couples content that made you miss your angry blond, or break up videos that made you miss him even more.
ugh. you shove your head even harder in your pillows.
you’re really trying to hold your ground, because you want katsuki to know he’d hurt your feelings, but now that you think about it you don’t even remember what you’d argued about. it was petty for sure, you’re about 80% sure it was a petty argument.
maybe you should—
you shake your head, steeling your nerves. so what if it was a dumb argument ?! that didn’t mean he could get away with everything!
“uuuugh,” you groan out loud, you miss your katsuki.
a knock at your door startles you. it must be mina, you’d texted her earlier that you were mad at your boyfriend and she’d told you that she “excepted all the deets of what his dumbass did this time as SOON as i get back !!!!” and you were waiting, maybe venting about it could make you feel better and less dramatic.
you open your door expecting to see your overly excited best friend. but instead—
flowers, almost whacking you in the face you might add, are shoved in your face before you can get a word out. you squeak in shock, they’re pretty though, your favorites. and you know only one person who knows what your favorite flowers are.
“wh-katsuki ?!”
and there he is, red faced and angry. scowl on his face and bouquet of pretty flowers in hand.
you can’t tear your eyes away from him, he can’t keep his eyes in one spot—flying from you occasionally to your door to the flowers and repeat. he blinks, you blink.
“here.” he grunts, waving the flowers towards you. “f’r you.” he glances at you.
“o-oh !” you exclaim suddenly, whisking the flowers towards yourself. the bouquet is big, it’s definitely a bit bigger than your head. katsuki searches your face to gauge your reaction“i—uhm! thank you..” you utter shyly, katsuki grunts. he shoves his hands in his pockets the moment you’ve gripped the bouquet, kicking at something you can’t see on the floor.
your heart skips a beat. tentatively, you lean against the door “didn’t take you for a flower guy..”
he scoffs, kicking the toe of his sneakers against the floor “‘m not.. but you like these, right ?”
trick question. he knows you do, you mentioned in passing these were your favorites, unless you suddenly decided you didn’t like these anymore. then he’s fucked. but he decides to continue despite the worry growing in his lower belly, the plan was already a go now.
“i—uhm, listen..” your boyfriend fumbles, he throws his head back and groans when his words won’t come out right. you give him a tiny smile, his eyes soften just a bit.
“i fucked up, okay ?” he admits, scratching at his nape “shouldn’t have said all that shit to you, or whatever..” you can tell he’s beyond embarrassed. he’d melt if he could get any redder, he keeps scratching and won’t look at you for more than a few seconds at a time and katsuki who’s always the loudest in the room can barely manage a mumble. you know he means it though, he never did anything he didn’t feel like doing. you wait for him to continue and he looks at you then.
“i don’t ever like arguing with you. ever.” he insists “so jus..forgive me, kay ?” he finishes quietly. your heart jumps and leaps and you can’t stand acting cold anymore. you walk a bit closer to him, the flowers block you from fully being close to him.
katsuki’s eyes are wide as you lean in to kiss right next to his lips, you laugh at his bewildered expression and his eyes soften when he snaps out of it. he rolls his eyes, you smile wider.
“i forgive you, i’m sorry too. i don’t like arguing with you either..” you admit, katsuki reaches for your hand, you feel the tips of his fingers brush against your skin, you give it to him and he grips it tight. then he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, it’s a sweet little apology kiss that turns a bit too passionate after a while, and you pull him towards you and into your room away from prying eyes. katsuki kicks the door shut behind him and pulls you closer by your waist.
“guess i gotta—thank shitty hair..” he mumbles in between kisses, “an’ i owe him twenty bucks.”
you make a noise against his lips and pull away, raising a brow and holding his shoulders when he tries to lean in to kiss you again. “what’s that mean ?”
your boyfriend huffs “told shitty hair i’d give him twenty bucks if his shitty plan worked.”
“plan, what plan ?” you ask, katsuki squints at you, a grumbling noise comes from his throat, almost a whine.
“yer really gonna make me spell it out aren’t you..” he mutter bitterly, shoving his head in your neck. he continues, “shitty hair helped me come up with a plan to make you not mad at me anymore. i told him it wouldn’t work, he said it would, and we bet on it.”
you laugh in disbelief, katsuki chomps at your neck to silence you, squeezes his arms tighter around your stomach to make you wheeze, but you can’t stop laughing. “that’s so cute !”
“shaddup.” he growls in response. you muffle your giggles in his shoulder. katsuki grumbles some more and you run your hands up and down his back.
“well then,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his nape, his arms around you tighten. “i guess we’ll both have to thank kiri then.”
#kiri the goat#tysm for this ask im genuinely losing it#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugou imagine#bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugo katsuki x reader#eijirou kirishima#lbakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki x y/n#katsuki x you#katsuki bakugou drabble#katsuki bakugou x female reader#bakugou x fem!reader#katsuki bakugou x you#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugo x you#katsuki bakugo x female reader#katsuki bakugo x y/n#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x female reader#im lowkey on a roll#cash’s one fic a day!!#..hopefully#changed the title rq you didnt see shit
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IF ONLY YOU KNEW - L.H.
Summary: To keep up the ruse of Charles, Laura, you and him being nothing but an ordinary family, Logan shares a heartfelt memory he’s been hiding. [Set during Logan (2017)]
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Logan is hopelessly in love, Charles being a shithead (lovingly)
A/N: I could not get Old Man Logan outta my mind, so this transpired from all that. I initially wrote it from the reader's perspective, but I changed it to focus on Logan's thoughts and feelings. Enjoy!
MASTERLIST | PART TWO
If looks could kill intentionally injure, then Charles would definitely have throbbing wounds all over his body. Logan shuts his eyes momentarily, attempting to calm his increasing blood pressure as listens to the old man enthusiastically accept the Munson family’s gracious invitation to dinner. He sighs, returning to the driver’s seat, avoiding the rear view mirror lest he catch Charles’ smug expression.
The ride to the Munson house is uncharacteristically quiet. The initial shock from Charles introducing you as Logan's wife subsides, leaving him lost in thought by the idea of being seen as a family. No one speaks another word, figuring that he deserves a break from Charles and you rambling on about stories to entertain Laura. Watching him angrily clutch the steering wheel till his knuckles turn white seems to be enough of an incentive to not pile on to his already shitty day.
Logan slams the door as he gets out the car, clearly agitated by the detour on their way to North Dakota. No matter how wonderful a home-cooked meal sounds, he knows they’re just wasting time by lingering. But once he sees the desperate look on the three of your faces - particularly, yours, he relents, hoping trouble would spare them for a night.
The seven of you gather at the dinner table, Logan steals a quick glance at you while Nate says grace. Laura digs in immediately, picking the food apart with her fingers and stuffing it in her mouth. Logan clears his throat and gives her a pointed look, she flicks her eyes towards you and you give her an encouraging smile.
“Where're you heading?” Mr Munson asks, looking between Logan and you.
“Oregon-”
“South Dakota-”
The two of you blurt at the same time, the Munsons pause in confusion. Your eyes widen at the sudden turn of events, a flash of panic settles on Logan’s expression before Charles intervenes.
“Oregon, then South Dakota” he says, smiling as if nothing’s wrong.
Mrs Munson inquires him further, going off into a tangent about traveling. Logan leans back, watching Charles animatedly lie about some "vacation" plans. He stops himself from scoffing, meeting your gaze across the table.
“James?” Mrs Munson's voice snaps him from his thoughts. He looks at her blankly having missed the first part of her question.
“It’s been 8 years,” You interject, nudging his foot underneath the table, silently warning him to pay attention. “We’ve been together for 8 years.”
Logan’s eyebrows twitch at your lie. He wishes you were together, that you would want him like that. Whatever hopes he had for a relationship with you shattered the moment reality set in his mind. You don't deserve someone like him, a broken old man who's struggling to keep himself going everyday. No. He wouldn't subject anyone, much less you, to an ill-fated man like him.
“Wow! That’s almost as long as our marriage,” Mrs Munson smiles at her husband, “You have any plans of proposing, James?” Her eyebrows are raised, it’s clear she noticed the lack of a ring on you.
“Kathryn.” Mr Munson chastises.
“What? It’s a natural thing to ask!”
Logan shifts in his seat, uncomfortable by the expectant eyes on him. He directs a tight smile at Kathryn, slowly nodding his head.
“Uh yeah… just waitin’ for right time.” He says with a tone of finality, hoping she’ll drop the subject. She doesn’t.
“8 years certainly is a long while, don’t keep her wondering too long.” She winks at you.
Logan gives her a fake laugh, noting the subtle redness on your cheeks.
“Oh! You two are adorable!” She exclaims, catching the flitting glances. “Tell me, how did you know she was the one?”
Logan takes a swig of his beer, Charles chuckles next to him and he uses all his willpower to not knock the stupid look off his face. He swallows the nervous feeling in his throat, resisting your intense gaze.
It had been hours, or something like that, since you left his side. Once you saw Storm's concerned expression, you immediately shot out of your seat, running to the medical wing of the mansion. Something must have happen to him on the mission.
Charles had sensed your distress as you made your way to the starkly-lit room. You always hated the medical wing, knowing there's no good reason why any of you would need to be here. The moment you saw Logan on the bed, you knew he had suffered enough to be unconscious. Charles kept reassuring you that he'd be alright in due time, that you just need wait for the regeneration power to kick in.
Storm kept checking on you every few hours, making sure you were taking care of yourself while you sat near Logan. She knew the both of you harboured feelings for each other in a way that was obvious to everyone except you two. She'd noted how Logan would always look for you anytime he entered a room, always made sure your favourite snacks were stocked up since the kids kept raiding the shelves, always made sure your gear was extra secure when you had to go on missions. Scott had caught on too but she secretly threatened him when he was about to tease Logan.
When Logan finally opened his eyes, he thought he was dreaming, shocked by the sight of you caring waiting for him. At that point, you had only known each other for less than a year, familiar enough to be considered friends. He didn't want to push you with flirty advances and realise you didn't reciprocate his feelings. That would've crushed him, so he settled with friendship and tried his hardest to bury his emotions around you.
His heart almost gave out when you smiled realising he was awake and he was going to be okay. And for a second, just a little second, a flicker of hope crossed his mind. But it went away when he saw Charles with the same expression. Of course, you were only there because you were worried about your friend. Nothing more.
Storm had advised him to rest for a couple days while his body recovered on its own. Pain was nothing but a sensation for him, after decades of going through utter destruction and slaughter, this was something he could drain out with minimal effort. You didn't leave his side at all. Even after he'd soothed your anxieties about his open wounds. But your response to that kept him up for days afterwards, 'I don't care if it's a paper cut or stubbing your toe somewhere, I don't like seeing people hurt. Especially you. I'm not leaving and I will be here for as long as it takes.'
It was that moment when all the chains restraining his desires let loose. His heart swelled with affection and he recognised that unmistakable emotion. Love. That stupid bastard. But he knew better than to taint your life with his scarred history.
You can’t seem to pull your eyes away from Logan as he finishes the story, keeping his focus on the plate in front of him, hating how silent the room became. Of course, he changed a few of the details to maintain the charade of being ordinary people, but the memory, itself, is something that often revolves in his mind.
Kathryn coos over his words, blown away by the sweet response. Satisfied, she turns her attention to Charles, excitedly asking about his time as a professor.
Logan avoids looking your reaction, even Laura seems taken by the memory - a tiny glimpse into their past. He coughs, ignoring the stabbing pain near his stomach. God, he hopes you won't call him out on this later. He doesn't know if he can keep this to himself any longer, especially since Kathryn had been commenting on your supposed "relationship" with each other.
The Munsons stand up to clear the table, Logan thanks them for the meal and nods his head at Charles, Laura and you, a signal to leave. Kathryn shoots down his intention of driving to a motel and insists on staying the night. Logan sees you stand up, trying to help his cause, but Charles declares you’ll leave the following morning - much to Logan’s annoyance. Your eyes follow Logan as he carries Charles upstairs, Laura right on his tail. Kathryn gives you a teasing glance snapping you out of your daze and you help her with the dishes.
Once Logan returns to the kitchen, Kathryn leads the two of you to the living room, “Here’s the couch, I'm sorry we don't have anything better.” The two of you thank her and she bids you good night, leaving Logan and you alone.
He groans, noting how the couch is hardly enough to support two people, much less someone as big as him. He certainly doesn't want to intrude on your personal space and wind up accidentally cuddling because of his subconscious impulses. Nope. That would definitely push you away.
“What’re you doing?” You ask.
“What’d you think?” He retorts, sinking into the armchair that barely fits him.
“Don’t be an idiot, your injuries are already bad, sleeping on that chair won’t do you any good.”
You stare at him across the dark room, when he makes no attempt to stand up, you sigh and lay back on the couch, turning away from him. A minute passes when you feel the cushion dip next to you, you don’t need to turn around to see the frustrated expression on his face.
The two of you lay down, backs towards each other. The only thing you can hear is the clock ticking in the next room. What Logan had said over dinner replays in your mind. You had been secretly pining over him for years and never showed your intentions, fearing rejection. So why do you suddenly have the urge to reveal your feelings?
“Did you mean it?” Your words pierce the silence and for a moment, you wonder if he’s even awake.
Of course I did. The answer leaves his mind as fast as it came. No one, over the last 8 years, ever came close to him as you did. But, he can’t tell you that, can he? Why would he want to put you through all the trouble that comes with him and his sorry life?
“Had to give ‘em something.” He mumbles, feeling his chest getting heavier.
“Oh. Yeah.. that was uh… I believed it.”
He hears you turn towards him and shuts his eyes, controlling the emotions bubbling inside him.
If only you knew.
PART TWO
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett angst#logan howlett fluff#wolverine#wolverine x reader#old man logan#old man logan x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan x you#wolverine x you#logan howlett x you
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selfish - frank castle x reader
hey y'all back in action with another porn no plot one shot
all i'm saying is,,, they knew who their target audience was with this (or are we just all mentally ill?)
summary: frank shows you what it means to be a real, selfish man.
informal warnings: frank is the selfish man in this, but I was the selfish woman writing this. couldn't get this out of my head as I started season two of the punisher, and frankly (haha get it -- sorry) after this scene you wouldn't be able to either
as always, the actual warnings: vulnerable frank, #sadboihrs for both the reader and frank, smut, porn no plot, choking, dirty talk, and ROUGH frank
anyway... selfish:
“what’s your type?”
the million dollar question. the one that you had been troubling yourself over for years.
“my type?” you repeated, eyeing the man who asked you. “or my pattern?”
he tilted his head in curiosity. “both.”
you chuckled. “my pattern… well, they’re usually useless. man babies.”
it was his turn to chuckle. “you like taking care of them, yeah?”
you shrugged. “i love taking care of people, but not men that de-age into babies as time goes on. did you know a guy i dated asked me how to boil water once?”
“you’re joking,” he took a swig of his beer, eyeing you. “no way that’s true. made that up.”
“i wish,” you laughed, rubbing a hand over your face. “i’m also not making it up that i stayed with him two years after that.”
“sounds like your fault.”
you nodded. “the pattern made me realize what my real type is.”
“what?”
“it’s corny.”
“say it.”
a smirk attempted to appear on your lips, but you pushed it back down. “i don’t like selfless men.”
he let out a laugh in disbelief at that. “you and every other chick.”
you chuckled too. “i heard this an analogy once… if you’re falling over a cliff, would you want your person to save you? or someone else about to fall on another side of the cliff?”
he stopped talking then, listening intently.
you kept going. “obviously, i’d want the other person saved… but in my head, when i’m all alone and there’s no one that has to be saved… sometimes it’s nice to think that someone would be so selfish that they would save me over doing what’s right.”
“you could live with that though?” he asked, narrowing his eyes, a bit of judgement lacing his words.
you shrugged. “never been the person that was saved, so i’m really not sure. it’s not that i want to be saved or anything — that’s super fucking corny. but man, a fucking masculine man, putting you over other things? deciding that in that moment, you’re what matters to him? i spend all my days being selfless, putting myself in danger so other people are saved… and i’m tired.” you took a swig of your drink. “i’m really fucking tired.”
“why don’t you save yourself, then?”
“for the same reason you’re here,” you sighed. “when have we ever been selfish, frank?”
he laughed at that, but almost scoffed. “i don’t do anything i do for anyone but me.”
you swallowed then, clenching your jaw. “so many people have wronged you… but you’ve only done what you’ve done because of how people have wronged those you loved. hate to break it to you… but you’re as selfless as anyone could be.”
he folded his lips underneath his teeth and stared aimlessly off into the distance. there were bags under his dark eyes, and no amount of sleep or beer would ever take them away. the man would never know peace, and your heart broke at that. however, it was nice to know someone was going down the rabbit hole with you.
“i don’t think i’m selfless,” he finally spoke after a bit.
you raised an eyebrow at him, calling his bluff.
“i did the things i did because my family was what was most important to me,” he admitted. “that’s selfish.”
you swished his words around in your mouth a little, and decided he was right. the spin on your words made you nod, agreeing with him. “i see your point.”
“so, what?” he asked. “you want a man that would choose you over innocent people?”
you huffed, standing. “i know you know that i never said that. i’m saying that in the back of my mind, it would be nice, just once, for a selfish man to decide that i’m all he wanted. it would be nice to know that i don’t always have to carry the weight on only my shoulders.”
he didn’t say anything then, staying planted on his seat on the floor. he twisted the bottle in his hands and listened to you.
“if i’m being honest with myself…” you began, swallowing your heavy statement. “i would prefer if they saved the innocents, but only so i could die, as i probably would falling in that situation, with a clear conscience. all i’m saying is… it’s a heavy fucking burden always doing things so i don’t feel guilty.”
you walked away then, not muttering a goodbye. frank didn’t say anything either. you heard him raise the bottle to his lips once more before you shut your bedroom door behind you.
it would be an hour or so before you heard a gentle knock on your door. there was no yelling or screaming outside, so you were grateful to hear there was no imminent danger present. in your tiny pajamas, you answered the door to find none other than frank. he was leaning against a wall in the hallway that led to your door, only a couple feet from you.
he didn’t say anything when you came face to face with him. he just stared at you, placing all of his focus on your confused face. it would be a few moments of silence before he finally stepped closer to you, and placed a calloused hand on your face.
you froze. frank castle never touched you, especially in that way.
“wanna know my type?”
you stared at him and swallowed thickly. your lips parted to whisper, “sure.”
“an escape,” he whispered back. “i know what you meant by always having the dark cloud of duty hanging above your head, ready to kill any moment of peace you happen to get your damned hands on. i’ve done everything i’ve ever done for the people i loved, and i know the only way for me to experience any fuckin’ joy is with another person.”
his dark eyes held your gaze, and you soon grew lost in them and his words. you swiped your tongue across your lips and stepped closer. you could feel frank’s breath on your chin, but you couldn’t breathe. his scent, his stare, and his fucking words were more intoxicating than any alcohol you had before.
“you want an escape, frank?” you softly asked, eyes darting to his lips.
“i do,” he stated, before he lowered his head and kissed you.
his free hand immediately came up to the other side od your face and pressed against your cheek. there, he held you in the palms of his hands as you rested your hands on his thick, muscled chest. his lips were dry and cracked, but you didn’t care. the fire that brewed from his affection was enough to fill any of the cold, dark, and lonely places inside of you and you greedily drank from anything he offered.
“you want someone to want you, darlin’?” he asked in between kisses.
you hummed in agreement, not wanting to break apart your kiss for anything — even words.
“can’t get you out of my head, sweetheart,” he spoke, dipping his tongue into your mouth. “need to feel those long legs around me.”
you whimpered at his words, letting his tongue dance with yours. you could taste the heineken on his tongue and savored every bit. “please, frank… i need to feel you so badly.”
“i’ve got you, darlin’.” he picked you up by the backs of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around him. the pads of frank’s finger tips dug into your flesh and a warmth spread throughout you. “those fuckin’ legs.”
you would’ve giggled, but you were too consumed with the very touch of frank to even care. you pulled at his shirt and threw it over his head, sad to break the kiss for even a second. you immediately went to his neck and began to nip at the thick skin, causing a growl to rumble in the deepest parts of his rib cage.
“y’drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he grunted. “sweetest fuckin’ kisses.”
“oh, frank…” you moaned against his neck before he threw you onto the bed. you turned over onto your back to face him. he locked eyes with you as he stood over you, muscles naturally flexed as he undid his belt. your mouth watered at the sight of the fucking man before you, taking off his belt for only you. the way his shoulders, pectorals, and arms worked in the dim light of your room… that man would be the death of you. you hissed, “you’re such a tease.”
he smirked at that, throwing the belt somewhere in the distance. “think you’ve just never been with a real man before,” he replied, before engulfing you into another kiss.
frank’s hand dipped into your shorts and immediately went for your slit. your body fucking sang at finally being touched the way you needed to be as you arched your back into frank, his chest pressed against yours. when frank began to run rough circles around your clit, nothing could hold back your moans or him swallowing them whole.
“only took off my belt, and this is how wet you get?” he asked, biting down on your neck. his long, thick middle finger dipped inside of you as his thumb worked at your clit. he tapped against your upper wall and you keened into his touch, whimpering his name. “now i know it’s the men before me. barely doing a fuckin’ thing and i’ve got you like this.”
you nodded pathetically, just wanting him to continue. “it feels so good,” you gasped, bucking your hips into his hand. “please, please — don’t stop, frank.”
he leaned over and pressed his chest against yours before his lips found your neck once more. his kisses were wet and sloppy, and there was nothing better than feeling the weight of a strong man above you working at your needy pussy. his rough movements against your sensitive skin were sending you into a frenzy as if nothing mattered in the world besides frank — your world started and ended there. your body felt hot — steaming from everything this man was doing for you with barely any effort. your whimpers and gasps fueled frank’s movements as if he couldn’t get enough of them.
“such a good girl f’me,” he said before he bit down on your neck and kissed the spot. “y’get so worked up, i want to see what it’s like when you fall apart.”
“i’m so close, frank…” your voice was hoarse and full of lust, and you were about to break any moment.
“that’s it, baby, yeah,” he spoke, slipping a second finger inside of you. “cum all over these fingers baby. let me taste you after.”
“fuck, fuck, fuck —!”
your world came crashing down onto you. your strength was no match for frank’s, but with the way your back arched and body curled into him, your chests both rose off the bed. he wrapped a strong arm underneath the curve of your back as you fucking sobbed his name, holding you to him and supporting your weight.
“that’s it, darlin’,” he grunted against your ear. “yeah — that’s it. keep cumming for me, fuck…”
your hands grabbed at his thick biceps and you grew lost in his movements against the most sensitive parts of you that never ceased. your hips were rolling in circles with his fingers and your vision went hazy.
“so beautiful like this f’me,” he groaned. “might be mean and not let you stop.”
“fuck, frank,” you cried, whimpering for him. your body fell limp against his arm, and he lowered your bodies back down to the bed. during your comedown, frank kissed at your neck as his free hand ran up and down your body. his other hand continued to rub against your pussy and it was driving you fucking crazy. “let me ride you — please.”
your voice was full of desperation, and frank smirked down at you. he slipped his fingers out of you and rolled off of you onto the bed. you tugged his pants down to his thighs, not wanting to waste any time. you were so greedy, but he didn’t care. he smirked as he watched you pull down your tiny shorts. you straddled him, pressing his chest to yours, as you sank down onto his thick cock.
“my fucking god —“ you gasped, your pussy stretching around him.
frank immediately grabbed your throat and you sucked in a sharp breath at the sight. he placed the tips of his fingers in his mouth, and tasted your juices that remained on his skin. there you were, impaled on his cock, hovering over him as you watched the most sensual thing you had ever seen him do. his dark eyes were locked on yours, but your lips parted as you watched him taste you. only a smirk remained on his lips.
“sweetest fuckin’ pussy i’ve ever tasted,” he spoke. “now show me how she rides me.”
he roughly pushed you upwards so you stood up straight. the angle made a whimper leave your lips, as he was now fully inside of you and the deepest anyone has ever been. you planted a limp hand on his stomach, and began to roll your hips against his.
his calloused hands found your hips as he threw his head back against the bed. the tendons in his neck were on full display as he stretched his head back as far as he could. the pleasure he felt was spreading all throughout his body, and he couldn’t help but go taut at the feeling. you watched his mouth fall agape and his eyes close as a moan pushed passed his lips.
the pads of his fingers dug into your hips and pushed you forward and back. even his fingers were strong and had control over you, and you couldn’t help but willingly give everything over to him. your whines filled the room, getting lost in your own pleasure with him. there was nothing like the sight of being thrown into vulnerable pleasure with the man under you, succumbing to your touch.
“fuckin’ god —“ he moaned, raising his head back up to keep his eyes locked on where your bodies connected. “never felt so fuckin’ good.”
his hoarse voice caused you to move faster as you ground your hips against his. his hands were rough and desperate as they pulled you up, down, back and forth — until you didn’t know which way was anything. all you knew were the directions of frank’s hands, and you followed in suit as he dragged you down another road of ecstasy.
“greedy fuckin’ pussy,” he groaned. “never enough for her, huh? needs more, even after what i did?”
“yes, yes,” you whimpered pathetically. “your cock feels so good, frank. so fucking good.”
“yeah, darlin’, that’s it,” he grunted, brown scrunching together. “such a good fuckin’ girl f’me.”
“fuck, frank — don’t say that,” you cried loudly, biting your lip. “feels too good when you say that — i can’t cum yet.”
he immediately reached for your neck and pulled you down to him. you gasped at his rough touch, but your hips never stopped. he bent his knees so your ass could bounce off of them, giving you more leverage. his cock curled deeper into you, hitting your cervix.
“oh my — god —“ you sobbed so close to his lips.
“nah, baby, that’s not how this works — you’re gonna take everything fuckin’ i give you,” he grunted. “i know y’want to be a good girl f’me, yeah?”
“yeah, yeah, yes —“ you were incoherent at this point, ready to tell frank anything he wanted to hear as he bucked his hips into yours. “frank, i’m so close — how —“
“love a needy pussy like this,” he spoke, pulling you closer by the throat for a kiss. “you gonna be good to me? you gonna cum around my cock?”
“fuck, yes —“ you sobbed. “i want you to cum with me, baby, fill me up.”
that set him off. he rolled both of you over before you even knew what was happening. he had you pressed against the bed, hand still around your throat. you grabbed at his arm, loving having the feeling of his strong muscles hold you down. you wrapped your legs around his back as he threw his hips into you. over, and over, he drove himself inside you.
“dirty fuckin’ girl,” he growled, biting down on the skin of where your neck and shoulder met.
that was it. that was how you crumbled a second time for frank that evening.
you fucking wailed his name.
you grabbed at every part of him you could, struggling to hold on for dear life. your body shook with convulsions as your pussy tightened around him, locking his cock in place. nothing could stop his strong hips as they continued to rut into you — riding out your second orgasm of that evening.
you fell back against the bed, fucked out and gasping for air pathetically. frank pressed several kisses to your neck before he stood up on his knees, leaving your weak body below him. you pushed yourself to your elbows with whatever strength you could muster. frank grabbed you by the hips and you watched him slam his hips into yours.
you watched his forehead scrunch as his mouth fell agape. his chin was almost tucked to his neck as his eyes never left where his cock fucked into you.
“use me just like that, baby,” you cried. “i want your cum inside me.”
his strong, trim body went taut as his orgasm hit him, and you watched hungrily as the man before you fell vulnerable to the only pleasure he could allow himself these days. you watched as his conscious mind slipped further and further into the sensation until every ounce of stress and exhaustion left his face. you couldn’t help but bite your lip in pride and satisfaction — knowing that you will never see a more beautiful sight like frank castle using your body to get off.
you fucking loved selfish men.
----
DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN NOW EVERYONE GO WATCH THIS SCENE -L xox
#the punisher#frank castle#frank castle x reader#frank castle x you#frank x reader#frank x you#he can punish me#lol#frank castle smut#frank smut#frank castle imagine#frank castle fit#frank fic#frank imagine#the punisher smut#the punisher fic#the punisher imagine
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— ☆ “WINTER FEVER SURE SUCKS, DOESN’T IT?”
— #. synopsis. this annoyingly repetitive recurrence to delicately tuck light bandages around your wobbly knees, lovingly soothe the purplish bruise away with an affectionate rub of his tender palm. yet, that was precisely it — that it was you, he’d happily do this for without sparing the slightest thought for the numerous times he’s had to expectantly carry out such a gesture.
— #. content warning! surprisingly none, dirty thoughts, yearning and pining, sloppy blowjob, fluff in all its worth, blushy male robin, feverish male reader and just boys helping each other out, is all.
— #. word count? 3.8k words.
— #. extra extra! ashes snippets : “blowjobs cure your fevers and keep the illnesses away. trust me, I’m a professional doctor.”
Carefully tending to your every whims and needs has always been a part of Robin’s unnamed responsibilities, whether verbally spoken so or not. Each and every one of the naive, little orphans instinctively knew who to call upon when faced with another of your clumsy accidents, an accidental slip of your feet — you’d bashfully say, a muttered ‘sorry’ wistfully whispered beneath your huffed breaths and flushing cheeks.
Perhaps, as a poorly-expressed means of a genuine apology for your inborn inattentiveness, that odd, natural skill of yours you unfortunately possessed to repeatedly find shady trouble in every narrow corner of this filthy town. To be Immediately roped into the worst of situations and somehow, come out somewhat unscathed every time.
Maybe if it were to be anyone else, Robin’s cheery mask would’ve eventually slipped past to give forth to the gradual frustration of the instilled obligation he’s readily set upon himself. This annoyingly repetitive recurrence to delicately tuck light bandages around your wobbly knees, lovingly soothe the purplish bruise away with an affectionate rub of his tender palm. Yet, that was precisely it — that it was you, he’d happily do this for without sparing the slightest thought for the numerous times he’s had to expectantly carry out such a gesture. Tirelessly complain? How could he when you’d appear so pitifully before him, the subtlest of pouts adorning your rosy lips whenever you’d tearfully gaze up at him, falsely claiming that it didn’t hurt that much because surely, it really did. God, such a clutz, aren’t you? And honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Every slight stumble and fall would simply be accompanied by his awaiting, helping hand to discreetly soften the landing, cheekily embrace you within his arms.
So, you see — this isn’t any different for him either, not when paired by this lucky opportunity set in place which, he hates to truthfully admit the mere fact that merely gazing at your weakened state sometimes, obtains certain.. reactions from him — from his body, precisely. Listen, he doesn’t mean to subconsciously widen his sat stance atop the wooden chair, make some much needed, accommodating room for his twitching cock noticeably stirring beneath his pants. Really, it’s an instinctual urge like any other man, y’know? And well, despite the known moral etiquette that he should be plainly feeling guilty for secretly getting off to your undeserving suffering here, he can’t possibly help himself, can he? Your fault for being so resistant yet, so weak.
Hence the pathetic position you now currently find yourself in, puffed breaths along with a blazing flush across your cheeks, one that Robin finds to suit you very well. Slicked droplets of sweat steadily trickling down the crook of your neck, softened features normally bright as his, now contorted to a blatant show of pain. Strands of hair attentively brushed out of the way so that he may periodically apply a fresh, new cloth onto your sweaty forehead in hopes of cooling your feverish temperature away. Obscene that he’s grown used to the routine of doting upon you every single, chilly winter cuz’— simply put, you get sick pretty easily.
Namely, he’d like to softly reprimand you for your lack of care for your own self, utter out once more that you should’ve properly bundled yourself up in a thickly knitted scarf or some layered jacket to brace for the pristine white snow and shivering breeze.
Though, of course, as per usual, you hadn’t actually listened to his common advice, so evidently, you’ve come down with a heated fever, rightfully reaping the eventual consequences of your thoughtless actions which he hates to say. Forcing him to— no, truthfully, he consciously chose to faithfully stay by your side till you’d get better. A bit of a slow healer though, that’s the thing. As an entire full week has now officially passed by, a week where he has not gone once to school considering your ailed state. Profusely tumbling out a series of muttered apologies, insistently nudging at him that instead of peering so precariously over you like he is right now, that he should be sat in class instead, intently listening to the teacher’s boring lesson or something.
“Really, you don’t have to. I, uh— ah, am just fine on my own, y’know. You don’t have to worry over me, Robin. It’s just a few hours and anyways, I don’t want you failing school cuz’ of me.” Blatantly uttering out falsehoods when in reality, he’s acutely aware of your quickening breaths, glazed over eyes barely focusing on his blurring figure and, ah.. shit, why’re you so pretty when you’re sick? Not that you normally aren’t, just that— maybe, the feverish haze settled upon you accentuated certain part of your features like your pouty lips sinfully glistening with your own spit, little, tentative swipe of your pink tongue poking out whenever you need to moisten the edges of those chapped lips. Wonder what it’d feel like coyly wrapped around his— ah, cut it out, Robin! Holy thoughts, holy thoughts.. Just like Sydney, right. They’d never think such a thing if faced with a sick, heaving boy. Seriously, he should be composing himself.
“School’s not important right now. You are. I’m not leaving till you fully get better and no matter what you tell me, I’m staying here, ‘kay?” Stubborn as a mule, two people set at opposite sides where one will not relent for the other. Typical argument of yours that involves your unconvincing insistence that you’re indeed okay whereas he will point out otherwise.
“Now, stop worrying about me, silly. Class can wait if it means I get to take care of you.” Hastily choking up at the involuntary confession he may or may not have brazenly unveiled his actual feelings for you— ah, did you notice? ..Yeah, no. So oblivious to your surroundings it sometimes frustrates him, but he can’t truly be upset with you for long, perceiving it more as an endearing trait he can poke fun at than an inherent flaw.
“..Fine. I guess if you say you want to stay then you can.. But I seriously owe you a favour for this.” Smiling gleefully at your reluctant act of conceding with a huffed pout, content in his momentary victory to tenderly dote upon you some more. “Mm? You wanna repay me?” That’s a funny thought, you, actually expressing your gratitude for him when he’s been acting more like a coddling mother excessively worrying over her child than anything else — not that he wouldn’t openly accept the idea of you fulfilling a favour for him. Question is, what exactly?
Subtly scanning over the sight of your curled frame underneath the woollen covers, curled fist loosely held onto the material and god, it makes his heart ache to single-handedly witness you being so cute in front of him. Without you even knowing, too. Instinctually trailing over the outline of your lower body below the blankets, skittishly being brought up once more to intently gaze at your bed riddled self.
Well, he’s got an idea maybe, of what to ask.. That’d be too bold though, wouldn’t it? Just friends or more like foster brothers to each other, even if the heat pooling in the core of his tummy is whispering out tell-tale lies. No friend of such should be secretly viewing theirs in a lewd manner, should be shamefully fisting their weeping cock late at night while their shirt is carelessly held back by their clenching teeth bitten between it. Muffling their stifled moans, desperately pumping their cock stupid, collecting the accumulated drool of pre at the tip to pervertedly slide down to the base with a wet squelch! all the while thinking of their supposed ‘friend’. Yeah, a friend is what you’d so cheerfully call him, ever since childhood, you’ve only had each other amongst the mess of an orphanage you’re miserably forced to live in by your cold-hearted caretaker.
However, would it be so bad if he were to consider you as more? Tentatively steer you in the other direction if you were to collectively see him in the same light as he does— “Robin? Can I have some water? ..Please?” Cutting his spiralling calculations abruptly with the timid lilt in your voice, almost shy of solely relying on another to be given something to drink. How you wholly depend on him sometimes for the simplest of tasks, unable to do anything or so, you frantically claim. Hurriedly interrupting his track of thoughts with a meek request and, how could he not obligate to your every whim? You’re only deserving of it, after all.
“Y-Yeah, of course.” Last of things he should be doing is envisioning stuff like sickeningly taking advantage of your bed riddled position, most definitely helpless in stopping him if he were to try.. anything, at all. Hah, no better than those lustful monsters that reside in this town, sneakily hide themselves amongst the shadows. Endless times he’s routinely walked to and back from school with you as per usual, only to encounter another one of those disgusting creeps that’d shamelessly try to land their filthy paws onto your untouched body, disgustingly slobber all over you as though they were deserving of the slightest sliver inch of skin from you. And yes, there is the slight tremor apparent in his voice when he’s actively telling them off in favour of protecting of you, but that’s precisely it. You’re enough of a reason for him to confidently fight back, take a stand even with the apparent wobble in his knees.
Truly, those hands of yours that find themselves clasping at his once the whole ordeal is fortunately over, beaming face filled with admiration is why he does it. Enough with the constant reminiscing however, dutifully reaching for a bottle of water set onto the oaky dresser, hesitating noticeably in his next actions to curiously gaze back at your awaiting mouth. “Want me to hold it for you?” Isn’t he simply enabling your unprompted, lazy behaviour? Bound to turn you spoiled if this readily keeps up, doesn’t mean he still won’t do it.
A subtle nod of your head to his gentle suggestion is all it takes, swiftly uncapping the bottle cap off before directing it towards your parted lips, palm decisively placed along your jaw, carefully titling your head backwards into the cushioned pillow to ease in on your swallowing. Noisy gulps accompanied by the rhythmic bobbing of your fragile throat, sluggishly drinking it all down with a satisfied sigh. Thing is, he shouldn’t be staring so intently at all these intricate details nor particularly zeroing in on the barely noticeable droplet of water that spilled past those moist lips, really— this is going beyond well-intentioned admiration and more like, borderline obsession.
Still, it’s just.. helping, is it not? It’s not like he’s physically harming you in any shape or form when his eyes lovingly peer upon you for a moment longer, stray hand instinctively coming to wipe away at the wet sweat built up there. Lingering contact, just helping in every sense of the word, that’s all it is! Thumb swiping lower to rest upon the gap between your parted lips, right where the wet warmth he so fervently seeks out is, digit dipping shyly with a shaky inhale at the sheer sensation that greets him— A wet and ready mouth, so easily pliable, mouldable for a fat cock that’d happen to be consequentially slipped inside, by chance. Drooling little baby you’d be, looking so very stupid with a mouthful of cock promptly shoved down the rewarding tightness of your throat.. You wouldn’t mind, would you?
At the end of the day, as so often told by many as a shabby excuse for their unforgiving actions — which he, himself, is no better of, at the moment — he’s nothing, but a man. Horny hormones offset from the mere, close proximity he shares with you, his crush, within this narrow space and time. Cock annoyingly straining against the rough fabric of his pants, hopefully palming at the hot, twitching bulge beneath your field of vision — or perhaps, truthfully he wants you to actually see him. Plainly witness the downright degeneracy of his current actions, heated palm clumsily circling over his red, leaking tip frustratingly covered by the material of his jeans, huffing over your bare form as though he’s solely being restrained by the horrifying idea of cold rejection on your part.
Cmon, won’t you rightfully take responsibility for what you’ve done to him? Having him just as equally heated as you over here, dangerously peering at the edge of his chair to unintentionally tower over your confused, oblivious self. See, the weight of those fluttering eyelashes, how you don’t even try to coldly discard his affectionate touch, borderline inappropriate one too — in fact, welcoming it as you subconsciously lean into the cup of his soft palm?? Surely, that’s shamelessly asking for it, a hidden sign of your reciprocation of his sentiments in return. Or so, his self-deluded mind dumbly convinces himself of such.
It’s the meek “Robin?” that stills him, curious eyes peering up at him with a quizzical cock of your head, veiled worry making its way past your strained features in a subtle questioning of if he’s alright. “Something wrong?” Oh, if only you knew that, yeah— something is indeed very wrong, knee now cautiously placed atop the bed, squeaking mattress dipping lower, distinct creak audibly heard throughout the four corners of the walls surrounding you both. Good, think he locked the wooden door nearby and it’s not like.. any younger orphan might upsettingly interrupt you two nor walk in, lest they actually want to be terrifyingly face to face with an angry Robin for once in their lives. A rare occurrence.
“Huh? O-Oh, well— I was just wondering about what you’ve said before. Y’know, owing me a favour for taking care of you and all..” Idly scratching at the back of his neck in a habitual instinct to soothe the spiking nervousness rendering him dizzy, hitched breath faltering in its smooth flow to ponder, briefly hesitate over his next few words. How exactly should he even go about this..? Discreetly hinting is sure not to successfully work if taking into account your naive innocence, albeit adorable to him — sometimes, is unintentionally setting himself up in the inevitable scenario of being direct. Shy as he might be, at times, specially flustered in the presence of you, Robin still determinedly carries on with a drawn out sigh, hovering over your laid frame ever so slightly to satisfyingly catch that split-second, shift of your incredulous expression.
“Is it fine if I use it now? I mean, what I’d really like for you to do right now, is.. take care of this for me. I-If you want to do that.” Swallowing thickly as your inquisitive eyes intently follow his pointed finger, direction openly set onto the growing bulge instinctually twitching in turn from your gaze heavily set upon it, his evident hard-on humiliatingly on display just for you. “Please. I-I just— ah, fuck..” Look at you, how you decidedly waste no time in readily obeying to his flustered request, seamlessly move onto your side where your head is sweetly nestled between the gap in his willingly spread thighs. “..You’re really doing it— hah.” Huffing, nuzzling and nosing along the visible outline of his bulge jutted against your squished cheek, appearing so goddamn pure despite the undeniable fact that you’re— ah, shit.. pervertedly inhaling the musky scent of his fat cock throbbing insistently underneath the layer of clothing, crudely smelling him in such a dirty place before your cute hands come to rest atop the surface of his hips. Slowly unzipping him free to give way to his drooling cock staining a wet patch of pre below the fabric of his boxers, pink, swiping tongue dampening the stain in shade from your little kitten licks.
Suckling attentively on the flushed tip right below his underwear, thin layer of cloth merely separating your skillful tongue from making actual contact with the pulsing flesh of his cock. Where’d you even learn to do such a thing and how did you even— accept so easily to the stumble of his awkward request? Graciously went along with it as if he were simply asking you to fetch some water from the cooling fridge in the kitchen, eyes reflexively shut in a soft hum of appreciation at the responsive twitch you receive from his cock in response to every careful lick. “I guess, it’s only natural to help each other as boys, right? Whatever you want, Robin, I’ll offer you it.” Whispering out so selflessly, fully handing him the ability to maneuver this entire situation to his liking and if that means having you so lewdly strip him down to his bare form, then so be it.
“Y-You really don’t have to.. ah—“ Promptly interrupted by a sharp hiss as his cock is suddenly freed from the annoyingly tight confines of his underwear, crudely smacking against the tender skin of your cheek with a resounding, wet slap! that it further fuels his fluster at the sheer noise. Pearly pre-cum naturally smeared across your face and, fuck— you’re not the least bit bothered by it, being sinfully tainted by his fluids stained upon your body and here you are, teasingly running your rosy tongue flat along the veiny underside of his throbbing shaft before finally, reaching forward to suck up all the salty, oozing pre accumulated at the head.
“But I wanna, Robin.” Stop calling out his name affectionately like that, he’ll really bust a load before you even get to sucking him off! Muttering out so sweetly, absently stroking the base of his cock with your curled fist tight around the girth, a rhythmic up-and-down motion to meanly draw out more beads of sticky fluid, lazily trickling down his quivering length. “You always take care of me and, hah— I think it’s only fair that I return the favour too. I wanna.. thank you for being so nice to me all the time, even if I’m a handful, huh?” Hand coming to rest atop your soft head at the generous gesture you’ve so nicely offered him now, caressing through the stray strands of hair, lovingly brush it out of the way so that he may obtain a better view of your half-lidded eyes, intent on getting him off. “So, let me. Let me take care of you for once, ‘kay?”
Ah, seriously.. Stubborn as always and he can’t help, but to let himself selfishly indulge deeper in this sweet act, widening thighs accommodating you along with his knees firmly planted at each side of your bobbing head, dizzying squelch! of your translucent spit coming to meld with the thick globs of pre. How is it that someone can appear so dutiful, merely carrying out one’s favour when you’re stupidly slobbering all over his balls? Wet, welcoming heat of your mouth— ah, god— pouty lips snugly wrapped around the pulsing girth of his length, obscenely taking him into the base as you automatically repeat the process. Poking tongue playfully alternating between light drags of it across the tip to then coat it once again in the warm depths of your throat.
Though perhaps what comes second to the sheer, slippery heat engulfing the entirety of his cock are the tell-tale signs, lulled whispers of your shared arousal, mindlessly gettin’ yourself off from sloppily sucking him off. Little, cute cock provokingly poking out, smearing a stained mess against the cotton sheets from the pathetic, adorable act of humping yourself stupid along the cushioned mattress. Ah, does having another man’s cock in your mouth, preferably your best friend too — get you off that much? Sucking in a sharp, held breath, gaze observingly fixated on the subtle bounces of your cock with every gentle movement, curve of your arched back laid on its side. “..You’re hard.” He evidently remarks the obvious, normally clear voice coming out all strangled in a stifled groan as your glistening lips instinctively tighten ‘round him to spare him a brief glance of your own.
“..Shut up.”You huff out, not necessarily meaning it cuz’ yeah— you are hard and it’s clear as day as to why. Resuming on with your actions, suckling on one of his taut balls before ultimately letting go with a wet pop! Thin strings of saliva connected to the flesh of your puffy lips, clumsily stroking the rest that your small mouth cannot pitifully reach. Natural reaction is all it is! Same goes for the embarrassing fact that he’s already so fucking close, so close to shooting a straight load down your tight, little throat. Busting his fat seed and surely, you’ll— you’ll swallow it, right??
A stammered hitch in his speech, stuttering hips jolting in tandem with each and every one of your sucks, savouring the feel of his fat cock deep inside your drooling mouth. “A-Ah— wait— I’m, fuck— I’m cummin’—“ Head thrown back, eyes reflexively rolling to the back of his skull which his fingers can’t help to follow on, entangling themselves in the mess of your hair, cruelly sticking you there as he suddenly busts a whole fucking load right down your throat, white ropes of cum spurting past your lips — messily drip over the clean sheets below. Spilling his cum to coat the insides of your mouth all sticky with his seed and truly, he didn’t mean to! Or maybe, he did. As downright, secretly perverted that he is in wanting to bear witness to your eventual ruin. Pretty sight of your chin all tacky and white, dribbling droplets of his fluids all over your shocked face. Ah, he’s gotta be doin’ this again, one way or another.
No time to waste one baseless apologies and such, for having staining you in the filth of his essence— No, those are all past Robin’s mind as he impulsively throws himself onto you like some wild animal, forcibly pins you down below his heaving figure with that familiar, cheeky smile. Plainly chuckling at the stifled whine of protest that draws out of you, settling his position so that he may instead, comfortably rest between the plush of your spread thighs. “Robin! W-What’re you doin’??”
“S-Sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll clean you up and make it all up to you later. Promise.” He furtively repeats, not exactly meaning it, but can you blame him when an awaiting cock is being so painfully neglected here? And, he’s consciously certain that you won’t refuse his gesture, not with that drawled out whine as he easily pops your cock between his glossy lips, eyes appreciatively fluttered shut to savour the taste of you. Etch it to memory.
Promise he’ll make it up to you in the way he knows most, tenderly inquiring you with one single question he’s all too keenly aware of the answer to. Bright, doe eyes, ruffled brown hair and that boyish grin you’ve seen him in time and time again. As you know him best. “But.. you haven’t cum yet, have you?”
As you’ve stated before, it’s just boys helping each other out, right?
#surprised no one did the classic fever trope with robin#but hey#if no one will do it#who says I won’t?#dol#degrees of lewdity#robin the orphan#robin dol#dol robin#robin degrees of lewdity#degrees of lewdity robin#bottom male reader#sub male reader#male reader#x male reader#character x male reader#— ☆ burnt ashes.
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Platonic! Yandere Daemon as your father...
. Daemon is proud of his blood. The moment he heard of a child that bore striking resemblance to his features, he immediately set out to reclaim what was his. He cared little for the woman who he shared a bed with, you were his child. He cares little for your bastard heritage, as long as you were his, he wanted you.
. The moment he sets his cold steel eyes upon your little form, he grew entranced. So this is the little one he's heard so much about. he wastes no time scooping you up and tucking you under his arm, trudging back to his sneering red beast as you wail and kick. The sooner he gets you home, the better. Your fight almost amuses him, a feeling warming in his chest that he has another firey daughter to call his own. Baela and laena will love you.
. Now obviously Daemon is not a man of... Honour, so to speak. You already had a heavy inkling since he kidnapped you, but learning about his disastrous and odd relationships with other women, it only digs the hole of contempt deeper. The older you grow, the more you understand. The concepts clear, the ones that held no weight or comprehension to your young troubled mind holding clarity and meaning. It's safe to say whatever bond he yearns for is all but doomed attempts. Still, he pushes and pushes. He'll keep you pinned under his thumb for as long as he can, at any cost.
. It's a strong chance that he may not want you to have a dragon of your own. A dragon meant freedom. Power. Something he felt you had no need for, you have a whole castle of Dragonriders who will defend you to their last breath after all. Why need one? Besides, Ceraxes is right here. He'll probably encourage you to rely on Ceraxes or Syrax the most. If you want dragons, they are at your disposal. If you were to gain a dragon, he'd be disgruntled at best, passive aggressive at worst.
. He is not around often, due to his little side quests and whatnot. What keeps him fairly calm is knowing that you're in safe hands within the secure walls of dragonstone. Rhaenary adores you like her own, and you are often kept distracted with toys and books and dresses and dragons to your hearts content. As long as you stay within the castle, he doesn't mind you all too much.
He does however have passive aggressiveness towards his nephew, Aegon, with his ill treatment of you. At some point Daemon probably encourages you to wack the boy back, yes, with that heavy book right there... Probably followed by a snide little chuckle as Alicent can only silently hold her tongue in discontent.
. Ceraxes is just as transfixed with you. He's a nosy dragon around you, fixing you with wide eyed glares that seem to drink your existence in, imposing and domineering. However he sings and chirps in your presence, purring happily to see you. Daemon will try to take you on as many dragon rides with you as possible as a child, wanting to find something to do to spend time with you. Something mutual, despite the unequal power balance. You love dragons, and your princely father has a dragon. A beautiful dragon. A serpentine dragon of blood red scales and filled with song. Come now, sweetling. Don't you like ceraxes? He loves you. Dry your eyes and hurry along. Look, he's added an extra harness to the saddle just for you.
Now when you do agree to ride, albeit a little dishearteningly, Daemon is truly happy. His smile is slight and thin, but his eyes speak all. Ceraxes will purr in his shrill song, pressing himself low to the floor as your father lifts you up to sit upon the saddle. Daemon can ignore your pouting quite contently.
. Baela and rhaena are your fond half-sisters, who often feel like your only rocks amidst the storm you've been dragged into. They are protective and patient with you, and are usually the only ones to truly listen to your woes and pleas. There is little they can do, like taking you back home. Besides, they have their own motives. They hate to see you miserable, but you'll have a considerably better life in the castle. You'll always be fed and kept safe, you'll never have to sleep upon straw or wear rags again. They still remember the little grimy child that Daemon brought home, and they dread the thought of you living like that again. They are a little yandere too, but considerably more relaxed and gentle. They don't say no to having you join them on dragon rides or horseback riding away from DragonStone, but as long as you return with them, they'll be content.
"Consider, sister" baela will coo
"father will find you. Ceraxes undoubtedly has your scent" rhaena chimes in, stroking your cheek and thumbing away a tear.
"and we would miss you" baela whispers, sharing a look with her twin. They both equally bear the burden knowing that there is little escape for you, and they sympathise with your situation. However- ultimately, like dragons, they are filled with greed and fire. They enjoy having you at home with them. They like braiding and styling your hair, or reading you stories, or having you interact with their dragons. Morning and moondancer are lovely dragons, and are the least smothering. They'll croon and let you pet them, but they won't stare like Ceraxes or nudge you around like a worrisome mother like Syrax. It's a strong chance as well that you were there to comfort them as they grieved their mother, even if it had been a couple years after her passing. Grief is still stricken in their hearts, but you- the little tearful bastard child, held empathy for them. You had just lost your mother, so to speak, and knew what it was like not being able to see her again. To never hear her voice once more, or to feel the touch of her hands upon your brow or her lips against your forehead.
You had embraced them with all your childlike bashfulness and clumsiness, embracing them hard in your little arms as they sniffled into your shoulders. Your words, despite being ungraceful and poised, were heartfelt. Since then, they were glued to you. Often being stuck in-between them and holding their hands as they weaved throughout lords and ladies at banquets and balls, giggling with warm joy as you would try to keep up with them- a big smile on your face for once.
. Daemon will see your close bond with your half-sisters and use it to his advantage. He'll watch you all embrace and giggle and play, and watch fondly. Knowing that you at least had a reason to smile here now.
. It is settled in his mind. Rhaenyra will keep you smothered in pretty things and toys and books, your half-sisters will keep you smiling, and he will keep you safe in your cage.
. One saving grace from Daemon, however is that he won't give your hand away to any lord that comes tottering by. So? You think because she is a bastard it means she should just settle for whatever she can get? That's his princess you're talking about. Daemon is always sure of his view of marriage- it's for political power. But for you, due to your heritage and claim, there is no need to hand you over to a lord or prince. It's the only shred of freedom you'll be granted, and let's be honest, life as a targarian woman isn't pretty. The gods could ask for you, and he'll still deny them.
. Overall, he would be a pretty standoffish yet controlling yandere. He'll use the people around you to keep you trapped and within his control, and stand in with his intimidation and wit to keep things running the way he wants it. There is little chance of escaping with him as your father- he has eyes across the earth, the oceans, and the sky. But as long as you stay content within the stone walls of your prison, all will be well.
#yandere hotd#platonic yandere#platonic yandere hotd#platonic yandere house of the dragon#yandere daemon targaryen#platonic daemon targarian#bastard! reader#bastard! princess reader
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You've made a lot of really great posts about transmasc experiences and struggles, and they really resonate with me! So I guess I want to in complete earnest ask: why the push for 'transandrophobia' when anti-transmasculinity as a term has been around for longer and faces little friction by comparison? I don't really *dislike* transandrophobia, but its meaning gets muddied everywhere from different directions, while ATM is pretty direct and succinct I feel. It's very clear that it's about TRANSmasculine oppression. I'm not against having a dedicated term at all, but the content of our struggles gets lost in the weeds of attaching kind of understandably divisive terms like misandry and androphobia in an attempt to mirror a phenomenon very specifically about misogyny; it seems more trouble than it's worth considering ATM is right there
I'll be honest, this ask is confusing to me for a few reasons.
When I started talking about transandrophobia around the summer of 2020, the conversations I was encountering were very much, like, a handful of people across Twitter and Tumblr (literally, a handfull!). I picked up "transandrophobia" because it was one of two words I saw in use, and the other- "transmisandry"- felt much less clear and much more contentious. It seemed super obvious to me that people would draw a line from "men's rights activists" trying to push this idea that "misandry", as a systemic oppression of men by women, to "transmisandry", and assume some ill intent where there was none. It's confusing!
"Transandrophobia" was the better of two options being floated at the time, at least in any conversation I saw. "Anti-transmasculinity" was not really a term I'd been made aware of, if anyone at all was talking about it at the time.
I have seen people pick up "anti-transmasculinity" more recently (maybe in the last year?), and this is definitely the first I've seen someone shorten it to "ATM". The people I've seen use that term have been mostly people who seem really new to the conversation, and the vibe I've gotten has been very, like, "we're the Good Transmascs, our word isn't dirty and gross like those other Bad Transmascs everyone hates. you'll listen to us now that our word is Good and Pure, right?"
Which is like... kind of frustrating, and kind of sad, honestly. I think these people honestly believe that if they just choose the right word, all the people who've been dragging me and every other transmasc talking about these issues through the mud for the last 4 years or so will really just stop & listen. If they can just say it right, these people- who have been relentlessly harassing and spreading lies about every single transmasc who came before them for years now- will care what they have to say, and will be willing to engage with them in earnest, compassionate dialogue.
If you just find the right word, all of these people will care about your hurt, your pain, and the suffering of your community.
It kind of breaks my heart. It's an incredibly hopeful, kind, loving way to view the world. It's compassion and patience and forgiveness that these folks are not being given, but that they so badly want to offer to others.
And at the same time, it sucks to be the Bad Transmasc. It sucks to have fought so hard for so long, and for the people I've been fighting for all this time to turn around and say, "you're gross, and dirty, and evil, and everything you've done is a mistake." It sucks to see the people I've been fighting for agree with the people I've been fighting against, and shove me under the bus in an effort to appeal to the people running me over with it. Knowing that the bus is going to aim for them once it's done with me just makes it sadder, yknow?
@saint-speaks wasn't the first person to ever speak the word "transandrophobia", but he is the one who coined and popularized it in its current form. And then he was dragged through the mud so hard and so brutally that some people think I coined it, just because when I defended him (too little and too late, imo) I withstood the mud-dragging better than he did (and gee, I wonder white.)
And now people take for granted that everything everyone said about hymn to justify that frankly fucking evil harassment campaign was true, actually, and we should abandon the word he coined and find one with purer origins.
If you honestly think "anti-transmasculinity" is just a more practical word, that's fine. I don't care what word we use. But they're going to cover it in mud, too. They're going to cover every one of you in mud.
Will you keep fighting for "ATM" once they make it the new dirty, gross, bad, evil word? Will you keep fighting when they drag you and everyone else through the mud for using it? Or will you agree with them, make up a new word, and never look back?
Please don't let us drown in the mud. We've been fighting for you, and we want to fight with you. Please.
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The way addicts and chronically ill people are dehumanized is so exhausting
The normalization of this shit in medical and casual settings is genuinely mind boggling. Addicts and disabled people go through so much bullshit. I've dealt with many fucked up doctors when I just needed help
I had a kidney infection, some months back. This is always extremely medically urgent, and I was likely only hours from sepsis. I went to the hospital reporting my pain to be a 9/10. 9 because my 10 was gallstones. I experienced severe malpractice at the hospital and the doctor reported exams that never occured and false information while making me wait with nothing more than tylenol to hold me over (didn't touch the pain) and bring my fever down but that's a whole other story
They did however, deny me the pain medication I needed until it was time to go home. I'm deathly allergic to NSAIDS, but that's something an addict might say so they witheld pain relief because they'd rather me suffer just in case I'm a different kind of sick. An entire night, maybe 6 hours in the ER and they couldn't give me anything, not a small dose of morphine or one norco even a few hours prior to take the edge off of the pain while I was curled up shaking and crying. Just in case I was an addict looking for my fix, and my suffering was just withdrawals and good acting. In that case maybe I deserved it and should be denied my humanity. God forbid in that case I'm so desperate to alleviate unbearable withdrawals that I spend all night in the ER crying. Not the first time I've experienced red tape just to get relief from excruciating pain
But whatever. As per protocol I was asked to follow up with my pcp. So a few days later I called to set an appointment, but I'd also run out of norco and desperate to relieve the pain I asked if I could be filled even enough for a few days, until the pain was bearable. I had difficulty walking, laying down, and I again, can't take most pain relievers. The receptionist was nice and understanding, actually got me in touch with the doctor because she wanted me to be able to get my refill. Probably heard the pain in my voice even. She believed me
She transfers me over to the doctor and I tell him I'd like a follow up and ask if he could fill my painkillers. I would've acceped a no from him, I just needed my follow up. He asked about my condition, I told him my diagnosis and how much pain I was in
And he laughed.
Got a real hoot out of it, like he had me all figured out. Like he caught me trying to cheat the system. I must be trying to get high or make some money with a few days worth of norco as i'm nearly in tears from the pain even while calling
He tells me through his laughter "I don't prescribe painkillers for 'kidney infections'" saying it with a mocking emphasis on those words, as if I'd said "stubbed toe". Follows with "Yeah haha, bye." and hangs up on me. No follow up like I called for. Needless to say I no longer have a pcp but truly if he thought I was an addict trying to take advantage of him he should have still treated me professionally. Maybe not cackled when I said my pain was excruciating for a start
I just don't understand why the hell so many doctors can be so apathetic to people's suffering. Addicts deserve better and so do disabled people- whether you think they're addicts or not. The assumption that we're lying, trying to trick them and are feigning pain to do it is disgusting, listening to your patients is so important. And if that were the case they could have some sympathy and ask themselves what it would take for someone to go those lengths, take such drastic measures and go through that trouble to obtain those substances.
Addiction is not a moral failing. Many disabled and chronically ill people unfortunately rely on medications that have addictive properties. About 80% of heroin addicts first misused prescription drugs. However only about 4-6% of those addicted to prescription drugs switch to things like heroin. And instead of help or compassion for people who just need help (addicts or not), they just figure we're one in the same and treat us like subhuman degenerates, leeches on society. And I think people need to change how they view addiction. Doctors need to change how they view addiction
#cfs#chronic pain#chronic fаtiguе ѕуndrоmе#chronic illness#fibromyalgia#disability#actually disabled#spoonie#me/cfs#cfs/me#ableism#ableism tw#medical ableism#addiction#ok to reblog#medical stuff#tw drugs
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ill break your shit adam
warning for adult lang
fuck you adam sandler
youre lucky karkat likes you
stupid fuck sees an amnesiac girl
and asks her can i marry you
that lady got issues mentally
you still down to do shit anally
deplorable zit on the ass of romanza
karkat told me to put that shit in this stanza
do raps even count as having stanzas
slam poetry tyke at preschool im no manza
youd probably jack it to a log with holes if they were wet ones
sitting on that stupid dock with her papa cracking cold ones
piece of shit id push you off that dock and watch you bubbling
kick your ass like her shitty bro failed when you were troubling
penguins dont quack like fucking ducks you dumbass
thats not part of the rap i just think that youre a dumbass
back to the rap sandler i bet you couldnt drop a single bar
too busy picking up stupid women at the stupid women bar
who even let you into hawaii
also did i say karkat liked you i was kidding he wants to kick your heinie
seriously watching that shit again made him start slamming his head into the cushions and screaming i had to pry them out his hands and he almost bit me
sorry i forgot i was rapping again
piece of shit forgot that you can like women while dating other men
still not over that chuck and larry shit adam
if you just said to the gov you were bi you coulda had em
firefighter of the year? well try putting out this heat
karkats gonna beat your ass like you do every night to your meat
gotta ask is this shit wish fulfilment for you
gotta say larry deserved better than you
i could treat him way better than you not in a gay way though
i just mean youre a massive sleaze basically the worlds shittiest bro
back to 50 first dates man sandler your shit is a bore
the stupid bits with schneider got my ass addicted to snore
if i was that stupid walrus id tear your ass to shreds
if i was that penguin i would also tear your ass to shreds
itd be harder but id still do it
bro fuck adam sandler im through it
===
TT: Wow. Bravo, Dave. You've outdone yourself.
TG: i wrote this one exceptionally fucking terrible to represent my inner darkness
TG: i can never unwatch those cinematic fossilized turds theyre like time capsules devoted to everything wrong with america
TG: you dont even understand how egregious that was
TT: I can sense the utter malaise and contempt in every word. It's beautiful.
TT: One particularly interesting point I'd like to make is the fact that you managed to refer to butts in a song about a male target, 10 times in the span of 37 lines. It's not an exorbitant amount, but it appears to be a running theme in your works. Very interesting, if you ask me --
TG: nooooo
TG: nope no
TG: not this shit again
TG: listen one of them is karkats fault
===
CG: ROSE, YOU JUST DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND WHAT HE'S DOING HERE AT ALL.
TT: No? Please, enlighten me Karkat.
CG: GLADLY.
CG: HE STARTS OUT WITH THE FRIGGIN WORD "ANAL" PRECEDING ALL OF THE OTHER MENTIONS, OF COURSE IT'S ON PURPOSE. IT INSTILLS THAT IMAGERY IN YOUR NUGBONE THROUGHOUT THE TRACK.
CG: AND YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED A RECURRING USE OF THE WORD "SHIT", IN TANDEM. BOG-STANDARD FOR DAVE, RIGHT? NO! IT'S PART OF THE EFFECT!
CG: MY THESIS: ADAM SANDLER MOVIES ARE PIECES OF ABSOLUTE SHIT AND THE REFERENCES TO WORDS LIKE "LOG" AND "SHIT" AND "ASS" ARE TO INVOKE THE SENSE OF TAKING A MASSIVE DUMP THROUGHOUT THE SPAN OF THE RAP, WHICH BY ALL MEANS WOULD BE AN EQUAL OR GREATER USE OF YOUR TIME THAN WATCHING THOSE MOVIES.
CG: RIGHT, DAVE?
TG: … yeah
TT: Okay, I'm willing to concede to that. On this subject matter, as an avid terrible movie enjoyer, you admittedly know better than myself.
CG: SHOULD KNOW BETTER.
TT: And you love them anyways.
CG: YEAH.
TG: hes right
TG: you hear that shit hes right
TG: fuck death of the author im verifying that interpretation
#davekat#dave strider#karkat vantas#rose lalonde#homestuck#made with instrumentals of ether by nas in mind#posting early bc im impatient#comix
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The Fatui's Handbook to Interacting with [Name]
Below is a set of rules one must follow when speaking with [Name], Lord Harbinger Il Dottore's spouse. These rules may seem simple but do not be deceived. Even the oldest employees here have trouble with them, which is why the handbook is constantly being updated. Good luck. If you have any additions please let us know.
~ Above all else, do not make them sad, and do not make them cry. Bad things will happen if you do.
~ Do not ignore them if they speak to you. Do not be dry either, it will make them sad. One must find the right balance in conversation. They enjoy anything really, and will be excited to listen to anything you have to share. If you manage to make them smile or even laugh, give yourself a pat on the back, for they will probably make sure you aren't selected for one of the Doctor's tests. But do not overstep from there. The Doctor doesn't like other people getting too close to what's his.
~ Do not mention any other God besides Her Highness the Tsaritsa in front of them.
~ Do not mention their illness unless they bring it up first.
~ Do not speak poorly of Lord Dottore or his segments in front of them. They will get mad, and then bad things will happen. (You do not want to find out what "bad things" include.)
~ Do not speak poorly of them in front of Lord Dottore obviously, but also watch your words around Lord Pantalone, Lord Tartaglia, and Lord Columbina.
~ If [Name] and Lord Dottore or a segment engage in affection in front of you, do not look at them, and leave the room if possible. If not, continue working as if they're not there.
~ Complimenting their relationship with Lord Dottore will result in lots of smiling and giggling from [Name]. However, do not ever mention anything of the sort to Lord Dottore.
~ Feel free to ask [Name] for guidance or help around the lab. They would be happy to share their knowledge with you if possible. However, only do this if Lord Dottore is not around. He doesn't like to see others bothering them.
More rules -> x
Since you guys like this so much, I'll shamefully plug my fic here (if you like soft Dottore and more fragile reader!!)
#smooches talks#fragile reader <3#dottore love notes <3#i just have this idea in my head of the fatui mass producing these things since ur such a big thing in the lab#like if ur working w dottore u gotta know how to deal with his lover#otherwise... bye bye to u!
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So sidekick is like the protective younger sibling (or younger sibling figure) of hero and they find out their older sibling is having a thing with the villain so they go and confront the villain and is all like “you don’t deserve to date my big sibling you sick, nasty villain”
But then villain pulls out the reverse uno card and is all like “oh please as if i don’t know you’re secretly seeing my henchman at the club every Friday night 🤨” then sidekick is like “😦😦they’re your HENCHMAN?-“
“I swear, if you touch them—”
“Oh please, they beg me for it.” They took a sip of their drink and leaned back, satisfied by the entertainment the sidekick gave them.
They were a lot like the hero, the villain realised. An angrier and smaller version of their nemesis.
“Ugh. Ew. Argh— I mean it, if you hurt them, you’re done.” The sidekick raised their finger but the villain couldn’t help but smile.
“What are you gonna do? Uninvite me to your birthday party?”
“You—”
In a sense, it put the villain’s mind at ease. To know that someone was there who was just as worried, just as protective over the hero was comforting. The hero needed to be protected with all their hot-headedness and impulsive decisions.
They could get into a lot of trouble, into a lot of fights. The villain had seen the scars.
“Listen, kid. You’re worried. But I promise, I don’t have any ill intentions.” They tapped their fingers against their glass.
The villain couldn’t get their mind off the hero. It was an actual problem at this point. It was more than a crush, more than dating. The villain was so helplessly devoted they found themselves pathetic.
A few months prior, they would’ve loathed this. But it was easy to forget everything when the hero’s hand was on their arm. When their fingers intertwined. When the hero held onto them when they got scared.
“Sorry, but I don’t exactly trust a villain. Do you think I’m dumb?”
“No. You’re clever and that’s why you’re going to believe me,” the villain said. “If I wanted them dead, they would be. Instead, I am stitching them back together.”
“That’s my job.”
“It shouldn’t be. You’re a kid.”
“I’ve been taking care of them my entire life.”
The villain tilted their head, smiling sadly.
“And that’s rather sad, don’t you think? The amounts of blood you’ve seen, the variety of wounds someone can endure — no child should see something like that.”
This time, the sidekick didn’t say anything, they just stared at the villain’s desk rather angrily. It was frustrating, the villain was fully aware of that.
It must’ve been difficult for the sidekick to realise something was changing, that their role as a caretaker was shifting. It must’ve been difficult not to feel replaced.
“I know you don’t agree with my methods. Neither does my lover. But I can promise you to take care of them, whatever it takes. You don’t have to carry this burden anymore.”
“It’s not a burden,” the sidekick snapped and the villain realised that the sidekick could’ve become a villain easily. They were angry and didn’t know how to handle that anger. They were frustrated and didn’t know how to express it. If they had been around the wrong people at the wrong time, they would’ve made a perfect victim of manipulation.
The villain wasn’t going to let that happen.
“They talk about you all the time,” the villain said. “Brag about your grades and awards.”
The sidekick looked up, eyes wide.
“What?”
“Oh, yeah. You play the violin, don’t you? And you’ve been obsessed with this new video game, aren’t you?”
The sidekick nodded. Suddenly, they seemed a little embarrassed.
“But you also get into a lot of trouble at school. Can’t stand bullies?”
The sidekick shook their head.
“They couldn’t be more proud,” the villain said. For a second, all was quiet. The villain was reminded of a lost childhood, of tears and fear. Of feeling alone, of losing everything. “Listen. They love you more than anything and I cannot change that, even if I wanted to. And I don’t. I guess I am trying to say that there’s two people now who can protect them. Plus, they’re not completely helpless.”
Now, the sidekick smiled softly.
“They’re stupid, though.”
“Oh, totally,” the villain agreed.
“They need me.”
“You need them just as much. They can’t give you that when they’re exhausted and need stitches all the time.”
“…I guess you have a point.” The sidekick let out a big sigh and rubbed their face with their hands. And that was the moment the villain knew they had changed their mind. It wasn’t easy to let go of habits and the villain was fully aware that this wasn’t over, that the sidekick would try to slip back into their role every now and then.
But this was a great start. That kid needed more free time.
“I always do.” The villain grinned. “They’re in good hands, don’t worry. I’ll take over the bloody parts and the tears, you do the video games and laundry fights, alright?”
“Ugh. Fine. That doesn’t mean I like you,” the sidekick said. They stood up, false annoyance all over them.
“Mmm, don’t worry. That’ll kick in later. Now get lost, don’t you have a science project or something to take care of?”
“You’re so annoying.” They were heading for the door but the villain had one last sideswipe. They couldn’t help themselves.
“Oh, tell my henchman to do their work on time when you see them tomorrow, will you?” They tried not to smile when the sidekick turned around.
“Excuse me?” The villain stood up, walked around the table.
“Tomorrow at the club, I mean. I’ve heard you’re quite the wildcards together.”
“Hey, what do you mean, your henchman?”
“Just try not to devour each other in front of other people, I don’t want to hear anything about that.”
The villain gave them a smile and pushed them gently out of the room.
“Woah, wait, hey—”
“Bye bye.” They closed the door of their office with a cheery demeanour. They’d always been a sucker for a little drama.
pt. 2
#to carry home my little soldier#writing snippet#heroxvillain snippet#heroxvillain prompt#heroes and villains#hero#villain#hero x villain#heroxvillain#an answer for an ask#request#sidekick#sidekick x henchman
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