#IT FEELS LIKE THEY HAVE TO DO SOMETHING WITH THAT RIGHT??
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amethystspaceprince · 2 days ago
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Mini community leader doesn’t make anyone feel better about it :/
every now and then the internet decides it should revamp the ole “stop texting first and see how many friends you lose” when in reality you could literally just communicate that u feel bad that ur the only one texting first
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catcrumb · 1 day ago
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after 5 years of running this blog, i've made the decision to open up a patreon!
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my life circumstances are changing, and patreon will greatly help me make ends meet and pay rent. nothing about this blog will be changing - i'll still be posting a cat doodle every day, same as i always have.
i have a $3/month tier and a $6/month tier - both work as tip jars, with the latter being if you feel especially generous and can afford it.
right now i have transparent and/or higher-resolution PNGs of certain catcrumbs that i've used for redbubble up for members, if anyone wants to make emojis or such. i'll also be taking requests for drawings to be transparentized and/or put on redbubble. in the future i may start offering additional rewards - bonus art, requests, maybe physical stuff - but my life needs to settle down a bit before i do anything like that.
your money is of course yours to do with as you see fit (and there are many many good causes out there that i urge you to donate to), but i hope that if my little drawings have given you joy over the years and you have the room in your budget, you'll consider supporting me!
i also have a kofi and redbubble if you'd rather support me that way!
no matter what - i genuinely appreciate all the kindness i have been given. i try very hard to keep catcrumb a self-driven art exercise - just one cat a day, doesnt have to be perfect or even good, just has to be a cat - but i couldn't have kept up the hobby without so many people's joy. it's been a genuinely incredible experience for my silly little scribbles to have positively touched people's lives - in-jokes between friends and partners, a gentle reminder, tattoos and baby clothes, something to look forward to... it's really been a flood of human kindness.
thank you all so much for all the joy - here's to more! :~D
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andypantsx3 · 2 days ago
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FILLING IN | BAKUGOU x READER ˖˚˳⊹
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summary: A production assistant for an erotic arts studio, you think you've seen every ridiculous plot line under the sun. But not even porn tropes can compare to the absurd reality you find yourself in when the on-screen talent drops out, and you're asked to fill in opposite the studio's number one star Bakugou Katsuki.  contents: The classic oh-no-the-porn-talent-has-gone-missing-let's-sub-a-rando-in trope, no quirks au, pornstar Bakugou, soft dom Bakugou, gn + afab reader, unrequited-requited crush, slight bondage, descriptions of afab genitalia, nipple sucking, cunnilingus, piv sex, pet names used: angel and sweetheart, porn with surprise feelings, 18+, 8.2k words notes: This is my Bakugou x Reader commitment for @ficsforgaza, and I am sorry it is late enough to also count for Valentine's Day (but also Happy Valentine's Day!!) Additionally, a special thank you to my angel princess @ofmermaidstories for handing me the nerd + pornstar combo when I was worried about Bakugou's characterization. I think this is the only way I could have ever written a pornstar Bakugou that felt right to me. Love you, Mermie.
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The studio was churning in chaos by the time you arrived.
The first sign that things weren’t right was Komori, one of your fellow production assistants, propped against the wall outside. Her cellphone was pressed against her ear, and she looked nervous, her foot tapping a thousand miles a minute. She had a thumbnail pressed to her mouth and was chewing steadily through the nail like a rabbit through a lettuce leaf.
You didn’t want to disturb her, so you buzzed inside the studio, only to find the hallways filled with an equally nervous energy. Yaoyorozu, one of the production managers, hovered in the doorway of a dressing room. She looked to be arguing with someone, her normally sweet expression pinched in profile. A small circle of people took up the hallway behind her, shifting apprehensively.
A shrill voice filtered out of the dressing room as you tried to wedge yourself by. “I said I’m not doing it. We’re getting married and we agreed I wouldn’t do this anymore.”
“Bibimi—” Yaoyorozu started.
“Effective immediately. Find someone else,” Bibimi’s voice replied.
You stopped in your tracks, blinking as you turned back to the doorway, peering over Sato’s shoulder.
Bibimi Kenranzaki was one of the studio’s top actresses, the very performer scheduled to shoot the production you were working on this afternoon. The shoot was a Valentine’s Day special, and had already been delayed at Bibimi’s request several times. If you’d understood Yaoyorozu’s previous concerns correctly, today was the last possible day to shoot it with enough time for it to make it through editing to post on Valentine’s.
This was not good.
“Bibimi, of course we would never force you to do something you did not consent to,” Yaoyorozu said patiently. “But you can see how having delayed this shoot many times already puts us in danger of not delivering on our commitments.”
You heard a dismissive snort issue from the room, and peered over one of Yaoyorozu’s slender shoulders. Bibimi lounged across one of the waiting room couches, arms crossed over her chest. An enormous diamond ring you’d never seen before glinted from one of her fingers, clearly the source of today’s change of heart.
Oh, production was not going to be happy.
You winced as you ducked out from behind Yaoyorozu, heading back down the hall to stuff your things into one of the vacant lockers. It was a struggle to fit everything in as today you’d come directly from a lecture—two textbooks the size and weight of cinderblocks choking up all the space in your bag. You would have thought that, considering that a wide swath of the production staff were college students—including several of the performers themselves—the studio would have had a better set up. But it was often a fight to the death to even find an open locker amongst the many other bookbags, and an equally Sisyphean struggle to get the door shut on the tiny cubbies.
Once you finally managed to finagle the door shut on your backpack, you made a beeline for the supply room. Typically, your first task of any shoot was acquisition of about a million pounds of baby wipes and lube, though you wondered if they would be needed today, given the scene with Bibimi you’d just witnessed.
You checked the film schedule posted in the staff entry to find the allotted set room. Then you made your way down the twisting maze halls carpeted with ancient olefin to the set for You Cumplete Me, the obnoxious working title Kaminari had come up with for this particular Valentine’s Day project.
The room was set up like some generic apartment, a large bed with a wire-framed headboard dominating the majority of the space. A cherry wood nightstand cluttered with fake knick knacks stood diligently at the bedside, and two fake windows with their curtains drawn shut overlooked the whole affair, red dressings fluttering slightly in the breeze from a fan.
Most of the production staff was already inside the room, the cameramen and director huddled together in the corner, whispering nervously. You spotted Mina, the wardrobe coordinator and makeup artist, fussing with her phone in the other corner, her various products and brushes spread out across a plastic folding table, looking put out.
“You know if we’re going to be able to sub anyone in for Bibimi?” you asked as you approached her, flopping down in one of the chairs set up at her makeshift dressing table. You arrayed your armful of lube and plastic packs of wipes at the corner so as not to disturb her arrangement.
Mina’s eyes flicked up to yours and she grinned, the upturn of her mouth accented with perfectly-applied hot pink lipstick.
“Komori’s called like ten other actresses so far and can’t get anyone,” Mina answered. “And Shiozaki and Kendo are in-studio but both just got off another shoot so we contractually can’t use them. I think Yaomomo is ready to start shaking people down.”
You winced. Yaoyorozu never lost her cool, but the pressure must be mounting. You knew marketing materials had already been put out on the studio’s website, specifically promising the return of the studio’s highest-grossing star—Bakugou Katsuki—opposite Bibimi.
While Bibimi might be the highest paid actress, Bakugou was the real draw of UA Productions. UA churned out projects that were largely targeted towards less traditional markets—largely women—porn that was often of higher production value, higher quality scripting, and careful coordination showcasing enthusiasm and consent. It also subsequently employed more than its fair share of beautiful men.
And Bakugou Katsuki crowned that pile of performers. Though foul-mouthed and often irascible, he was undeniably breathtaking to behold, both on screen and in person. He was the typical blend of tall, strong, and well-muscled that most UA actors were. But he moved with a singular precision and intention that drove fans wild, and came equipped with bed-rumpled blond hair, mile-long lashes, a surly, pouty mouth, and a facial symmetry that Euclid himself would have wept over.
He was also nearing the end of his doctoral and would not be filming for much longer, you were given to understand. So the studio stood to lose a significant amount of audience trust and money, should this production fall through.
As if on cue, Bakugou Katsuki himself stomped through the doorway. The expression on his face told you he was already well-aware of what was happening with Bibimi, and he was getting annoyed with the hold up. He set a direct line for you and Mina, mouth twisted in dissatisfaction.
Your ears promptly went hot, the way they always did when Bakugou was in your line of vision.
You’d unfortunately had something of a crush on him from the minute you’d become a production assistant at UA, your third year of college. Funds were tight and your masters program loomed large in front of you, its meager stipend like a slap in the face. You’d needed something else flexible, and you’d found UA through the friend of a friend—its proximity to the university, and ever changing schedule of ongoing productions offering the perfect amount of flexibility for your situation.
Bakugou had been there that first day as Yaoyorozu gave you the tour, too. He’d been tucked up on the couch of the waiting room as you passed through, blonde hair rumpled, someone’s lip gloss still smeared at the corner of his jaw. He looked like a soft, relaxed mess—clothes askew like he’d pulled them back on after a shoot and immediately migrated to the couch—though his scarlet eyes tracked intently across the page of an enormous engineering text spread across his thighs. His long fingers twirled a pen absently, tapping against a notebook peeking out from just under the textbook, headphones jammed over his ears.
He did not look up as you made your way inside, but your stomach had flared to life with a sudden flutter of butterflies. You were startled by the pretty set of his mouth, the long lashes that swept over his cheeks as he read, the flex of those long, beautiful fingers on his pen. You had never seen a person so perfect in real life, and the effect was dumbing.
“That’s Bakugou, one of our performers,” Yaoyorozu had told you, leading you through the room. She did not stop to introduce you. “He’s working on a PhD in chemical engineering, and performs once every couple of months for us. He’s—erm—not quite friendly, so we’ll skip the introduction today.”
You’d followed her, nodding obediently, leaving Bakugou behind. You’d dutifully concluded your tour and signed all the paperwork, and met several other members of the staff. It was only when you’d been released from your onboarding obligations that you saw Bakugou again, as you ran out into the parking lot to start your car.
It was raining out, a torrential downpour much worse than when you’d arrived that came down in thick, pelting sheets. Visibility was bad enough that you almost missed the tuft of blonde hair across the parking lot, ducking under the awning of the nearby bus stop.
You knew the route headed back towards your university, and subsequently your apartment, and it dawned on you that Bakugou’s would most likely be attaining his cited PhD at your same college. You felt your mouth twist, impressed. PhD tracks were notoriously difficult to attain at Musutafu University—no wonder Bakugou needed a job that was, for lack of better phrasing, quick and dirty. He probably was drowning in post-grad labs and dissertation materials.
The memory of those long fingers tapping at the edge of his text suddenly flickered again in your brain, and something possessed you as you started up your engine. Before you knew what you were doing, you had pulled your car around into the bus stop bay, leaning out to call out to him.
“Hey—Bakugou, right?” you said, watching as scarlet eyes found yours, narrowing suspiciously. His pretty mouth lifted in an immediate, reflexive snarl, and those broad shoulders squared off, like he was getting ready for trouble.
You cut in, quickly explaining yourself when you realized he had no context for the rando hanging out of their car window at him. “I’m Yaoyorozu’s new production staff. Just joined today. Are you headed towards Musutafu U and do you want a ride?”
A blonde eyebrow lifted. “You’re with UA?” he asked. His voice was a kind of low growl, not unlike the thunder suddenly echoing overhead, and the sound shot through you like a bolt of lightning.
“I—yeah. Just signed the paperwork this afternoon.”
Several spatters of rain dampened your cheeks where you had your head poked out of the window, and Bakugou’s eyes tracked them closely as he leaned in. “Then let’s get one thing straight right off the bat—I don’t fuck coworkers off the clock.”
You recoiled, horrified at the conclusion he’d immediately brought himself to. “No! That’s not what I—I didn’t mean like—! I just thought because it’s raining out, you might want—”
“I want you to fuck right off, is what I want,” Bakugou said, crossing his arms over his chest. He made a show of leaning back against the glass wall of the bus stop, its interior papered over with moldering ads. It was a clear dismissal.
You blinked at him stupidly for a moment, mind reeling that your gesture had been received so poorly. But then you realized he hadn’t seen you, in your trek through the staff room during your afternoon tour. You’d only just seen him, and you hadn’t spoken to him besides. Despite your immediate interest in and respect for him, he knew nothing about you.
And he was a pornstar, come to think of it. He probably had had a fair number of creeps proposition him out of the blue. Enough that he was suspicious now, as you might have been, were you in his position.
Your cheeks heated, suddenly ashamed. You nodded, gritting your teeth as you ducked back inside your car.
“Right, fucking off, as requested,” you said, turning your blinker on to move back out into the road. “Sorry to scare you. See you, um—see you at work sometime.”
“Oi—I ain’t fuckin’ scared,” you heard him growl, but then you were turning back out into the street. You rolled your window back up as you sped up, resisting the urge to look back at Bakugou in the rearview.
What a humiliating first impression that had been.
You'd fretted about it for another week before your first official day at UA, and for several weeks more when you didn’t immediately run into Bakugou. When you’d finally met him properly, however, Bakugou acted like he’d never even seen you before in his life, and you somewhat gratefully followed his lead. He treated you like anyone else, with the same kind of universal severity he turned on the other production staff. You discovered very quickly that he was impatient, brusque, no-nonsense. He stalked onto every set with all the latent energy of a nuclear missile strike, and never softened until after the shoot was over.
His general attitude, and your humiliating first encounter should have been enough to turn you off of him. But the occasional glimpse of him after a shoot—rumpled, relaxed, open in a way he normally wasn’t, in the way that you'd first seen him—was unfortunately enough to keep those initial butterflies aflutter.
The fact that he was smart—and annoyingly adept in the bedroom, considering the number of reshoots his costars often needed after they accidently came too early—did not help matters.
“Where the fuck is Yaoyorozu?” he demanded of you and Mina, as he approached you in the set room now.
You met his scarlet gaze, holding very still under his regard.
“She was negotiating with Bibimi just now when I came in,” you told him, cheeks heating as his eyes flicked over you. He had a very direct way of evaluating people, and rarely missed a detail. You hoped your makeup wasn’t smudged from where you’d had your head propped up in your hand, valiantly resisting falling asleep in your earlier lecture.
“Bibimi’s a waste of fuckin’ time,” Bakugou growled.
You rolled your eyes. He couldn’t very well act opposite his own hand, so someone was going to have to fill in.
“Well Mina says we’re not having luck finding anyone else either so Bibimi is your best bet,” you told him.
Bakugou looked down his perfect nose at you. “Anyone in this damn studio could do better than she does.”
You felt your eyebrows raise. Bibimi was popular with a variety of audiences for her exaggeratedly dollish features—you doubted just anyone could fill in for her and look as good. You said as much to Bakugou, and he scoffed.
“‘S not about looking good, it’s about showing that you’re feeling good,” he said plainly, igniting a wave of fire across your cheeks. The flames worsened when he crossed his arms over his chest and you had occasion to notice he was in nothing but a workout tank, his bare biceps flexing enticingly in the studio lighting.
You were thankfully spared from having to form a coherent response by Yaoyorozu stepping into the room. She was tailed by Komori, and wore a troubled expression. She waved an elegant hand that encompassed both your camp in the corner and the directors on the other side of the room.
“Bibimi is unfortunately out. And we cannot use Shiozaki or Kendo. I am afraid we may have to call off the shoot this afternoon,” she said.
“So get someone else in,” Bakugou said, with his usual brisk directness. He turned to face her. You caught the whiff of something light and clean on him as he did so, laundry detergent and recently-applied shampoo.
Yaoyorozu fixed him with an expectant look. “We’ve unfortunately worked our way through the roster of available performers. Unless you know someone else?”
Bakugou stared back at her evenly, arching a blonde brow. “There’re a bunch of extras already here, aren’t there?”
A little shock went through you. Extras. As in the…people in the room right now? Did he really mean the production staff?
Yaoyorozu blinked, apparently taken aback. Then her gaze slid thoughtfully between Komori, Mina, and you. Another little thrill raced through you, like you’d suddenly missed a step. Surely they both could not actually be considering that.
“I’m a hoe but I’m a loyal hoe,” Mina said from next to you, immediately putting up a rosy palm. “Eiji is my one and only, sorry babes.”
Yaoyorozu nodded. “Of course, I would not expect you to violate any commitments you already had to a significant other.”
“I am also seeing someone,” Komori volunteered, a shy little blush sweeping across her cheeks. You smiled a bit at her obvious regard for whoever it was—until you sensed a dozen pairs of eyes suddenly turning to you.
Your stomach dropped—less of a missed step then and more of a sudden push off a cliff.
Worst of all was the pair of scarlet eyes suddenly burning with undue regard in your direction. You stared straight at Yaoyorozu, unable to meet Bakugou’s gaze. You still felt like you might burn up under his scrutiny, like an ant under a magnifying glass.
“I—uh—” you said dumbly, floundering for the right set of words to explain yourself. “Uhh.”
“You seeing anybody?” Bakugou prodded, prompting a fresh wave of heat to your cheeks.
“Well—no—”
“You clean?” he asked.
Your face burned hotter. “Yes, if you must know—-but uh—”
“Then what?” he prompted.
“Is it that easy for you? To just switch partners like that?” you asked. You weren’t exactly a blushing virgin but you still had only slept with partners you had cared for. Bakugou had worked with you for years and never signaled anything beyond dismissal and semi-professionalism—so it wasn’t like he had that same level of interest in you, despite your enormous crush on him. How could he just switch, just like that?
Bakugou uncrossed his arms to settle his hands on slim hips instead, and he gave you another evaluating once over. “Something the matter with you?” he asked. You noticed he did not ask if you thought something was the matter with him. You wondered if your crush on him was that apparent.
“No,” you said defensively. “Just—I don’t know that I’d be any good on camera.”
“You’ve been in videos before,” Mina pointed out, tugging playfully on your belt loop. “You were in Bibimi’s Christmas special a couple years ago.”
“That was different,” you said, staring at her. “I was her evil coworker who sent her running into Tetsutetsu’s muscular arms. I didn’t have to get naked.”
“We can give you time to get prepared,” Yaoyorozu promised kindly. “If you wanted to um, clean up or trim—”
“It’s not that!” you said quickly, waving your arms. Your ears burned. “I just mean I would be shy.”
Bakugou watched you silently for another long moment, his full mouth pursed in thought. His gaze dragged down your body and then back up to your face, and you felt it like a physical touch.
“Then if you forgot you were on camera?” he asked, a rasp in his tone.
You blinked at him dumbly. “If I—forgot?”
“If I made you forget,” he said, flashing a sharp smirk. The arrogance looked so good on him, zinging through your veins like an electric current. Your cheeks and ears flared even hotter, until you thought you might actually be emitting smoke from them.
You tried to form words but seemed to have trouble shaping the proper ones with your tongue, making a series of choking noises before you managed. “There is no way you could—you’re not that good.”
Something hot flared to life behind Bakugou’s eyes, and his smirk curled even sharper. “We’ll see about that.”
“What if Bakugou helps you get over your nerves, and we just try it and see how you do.” Yaoyorozu prompted gently. “Is that something you would be willing to do? Of course we won’t pressure you.”
Your gaze jerked back to her as you startled. For just a second you’d sort of forgotten there was anyone in the room but Bakugou.
“I sort of doubt—but if you really need—I mean I could—try…” you fumbled out.
Yaoyorozu nodded gratefully, looking pleased again. “Alright, then let’s at least try it. Mina please find proper costuming and help get Y/N ready. I will draw up a short contract with the same terms we promise all our on camera talent for you to look over when you’re done.”
You nodded, a little dazed. Had you really just agreed to—?
But then Mina was laughing, grabbing you by the elbow and drawing you out of the room. She marched you towards the back of the studio building where she’d amassed a respectable wardrobe, racks upon racks of clothes. “Alright, this is going to be so fun! I love dressing new talent! It’s always fun to work out what’s going to work with your coloring and style on screen.”
The mention of you doing anything on screen had all the blood draining from your veins, but Mina didn��t seem to mind. She kept up a stream of happy, easy chatter as she pecked around in the racks like a chicken hunting a grasshopper. Eventually she emerged with a robe in a deep pink, slippery and silky and glistening faintly under the overheads.
“Okay so you’re supposed to be a loving couple celebrating your anniversary and looking for ways to spice things up,” she said. “So you’ll be waiting for him to come home, looking delicious in this little slip of a thing. He can unwrap you like a V-Day present!”
Her callback to the plot of the shoot suddenly made you realize there were way more things involved in the project than just being pawed at on screen—and you did not know any of Bibimi’s lines. How the hell were you supposed to deliver any kind of performance?
“Don’t worry about it, I assure you the gears are already churning in Momo’s big brain,” Mina said when you asked as much. She peeled you out of your sweater and jeans, and ushered you into the robe. Cheeks burning, you let her look you over to make sure you were properly groomed for the camera.
Then before you could get cold feet, she bundled you up and shepherded you back into the set room and set to work on you with her various pots of paint and ointments. She worked a couple things into your hair, applied something glossy and sticky to your mouth, and adjusted the fit of your robe to her liking until she pronounced you ready.
Yaoyorozu was already leaning over you by the time Mina released you, laying out a packet of sheets in front of you. She detailed the terms to you in the professional, clipped tone you’d heard her conduct business in before, and soon enough you were penning in your own name in a shaky hand. The strokes looked almost foreign on the page, and you felt a little more than lightheaded thinking about what you’d just signed yourself into.
“So—what am I supposed to do about Bibimi’s lines?” you asked, your voice coming out kind of dry and crackly.
“We’re going to improvise,” Yaoyorozu said. “Bakugou will guide you. Try to respond as best you can to what he says, along the framework of being a couple celebrating their anniversary. It’s most important to capture your intimacy, however, so we can always come back and reshoot any dialog as needed after. You can call him Katsuki, there are no aliases for this shoot.”
You nodded, feeling even more nervous now that all the prerequisites had been completed.
That left Komori waiting for you. She was apparently assuming the duties you’d abandoned by becoming the star of this absurd alternate dimension. She led you over to what had been meant to be Bibimi’s starting mark on the bed and helped you spread your pink robe out enticingly. You almost laughed as you helped her, feeling foolish and distinctly unsexy for the deliberateness of it all.
There was nothing less romantic than half a dozen other people in the room with you, cameras and hot lights trained on you like you were an escaped convict under a helicopter floodlight. You got the impression that it was going to be a monumental task to work up the nerve to even loosen the tie on your robe, nevermind remove it.
Except then Bakugou walked in.
He’d changed, sometime in the half hour or so Mina had had you in her clutches. He prowled into the room in a dark charcoal suit, the consummate businessman home from his generic businessman job.
He looked unfairly good in it too—the close cut of it highlighted how his broad shoulders slashed inwards into a trim waist, and his pants showcased the flex of a strong, hard thigh. He’d acquired a chunky wristwatch in a dark metal, and it glinted dully under the overhead lights.
He looked sleek and dangerous, even though you’d just seen him stomping around in sweatpants not thirty minutes prior. You felt your breath escape you in a whoosh, your heartbeat kicking up as he prowled closer.
“I’m home, angel,” he said, a smoky rasp curling on the end of his voice. Despite the pet name, he sounded enough like his usual self that you almost answered him in turn.
You vaguely remembered you were obliged to playact with him, and you summoned up your nerve. “Hi, Katsuki,” you said. You hoped your voice did not sound too shaky. “Happy Anniversary.”
Bakugou’s scarlet eyes dipped down to your robe, fastening to the spot where it gaped open suggestively over one thigh. Your skin buzzed like a hive of bees was trapped beneath it.
“This my present?” he asked, stalking closer. He snagged the tie of your robe in his long fingers, toying with it speculatively.
“It should be easy to open,” you joked, then almost cringed.
Sexy. You were supposed to be sexy, not goofy as hell. And what happened when he really did try to open it?
A small amount of panic crept up your spine again, seeping into your veins. You did not feel ready to be naked before all of the eyes in this room, nevermind the roving gaze of the internet. What had you been thinking, signing up for this?
Your hand came up defensively to tug the robe tie back out of Bakugou’s hand, only for it to be captured too. Bakugou tugged you up and to him, and your face broke out in another sweeping wave of flame as you felt the hard planes of him against you. He was so warm, and smelled so good up close and you could not even begin to know what to do or where to put your hands—
Before you could ask him what the heck he was doing, however, he brought your captured hand to his mouth. You almost leapt out of your skin when you felt the gentle press of his lips on the inside of your wrist, the careful flicker of a tongue. Those scarlet eyes slid over you knowingly, near enough that you could see tiny flecks of deep purple in them.
His other hand came up to take your chin, his thumb stroking over the side of your jaw. The feeling made you shiver slightly, and it must have been clearly visible because the corner of Bakugou's mouth lifted into a smirk against your wrist. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, every inch of your skin thrilling with the feeling of your longtime crush doing something this to you.
“Think I’m gonna enjoying opening you alright,” Bakugou intoned.
You struggled to remember what he was talking about, giving up almost immediately as his mouth trailed along the inside of your arm. It traced up and up and up, until he was hovering dangerously close to your face. His fingers tightened on your chin, tilting your face up to his.
And then he bent his head, and crushed his mouth to yours.
Immediately, everything else disappeared.
Kissing Bakugou was three thousand zillion times hotter than you could have ever even imagined. You’d sort of imagined that with an attitude like his, he would be all power and impatience. And the power was there, but leashed, somehow. His mouth was hot and shockingly sweet on yours, and his fingers cupped your face to his, holding you there like he planned to kiss you for hours yet.
Your head was spinning by the time he let your mouth free, and the dip of his blonde lashes as he looked you over was extraordinarily self-satisfied.
His hand on your chin went to your robe instead, pulling the collar wide so that he could lower his mouth inside instead, kissing over your throat. You seized fistfuls of his suit, clinging to him, as he mapped a hot path across your shoulder and collarbone, one of his hands coming up to up your chest.
You heard yourself let out a soft hiss as his thumb pressed over your nipple through the silky fabric. Bakugou sucked a careful bruise into the side of your neck as he did it again, letting out a barely audible snort when you jerked in his hold, unconsciously arching into his hand.
“So sensitive for me, angel,” he drawled as his other hand came up to carefully pinch your other nipple.
You heard yourself make a small, choked off noise like a whine, and you could feel Bakugou’s lips pull into an answering smirk against your throat. You didn’t think you had been quite this responsive to a partner before—but something about the careful, purposeful way he was touching you had your blood running quicker in your veins.
Bakugou’s thumbs traced slow, deliberate circles over your nipples with just the right amount of pressure to make you groan. He teased you again and again as his mouth traced higher on your neck.
Within minutes you were panting, a slow, syrupy pleasure dripping down into your core.
Bakugou tugged your robe wider, then bent his head. You felt the tickle of his hair against your collarbone, softer than you would have thought, as his mouth closed over the point of one nipple. The draw of his mouth had you arching up into him immediately, pleasure zinging through your veins.
“Oh my god,” you said, seizing a fistful of that blonde hair.
Bakugou’s tongue teased at the nipple, and you writhed in his hold. Then he did the same to your other one, and you thought you might die. He hadn’t even touched you yet and you already wanted to crawl out of your skin with impatience.
“Katsuki—please,” you heard yourself say, almost distantly. “Katsuki—oh!”
“Please what, angel?” he said into the skin of your chest, before laying his mouth back over your nipple and giving a sweet suck.
“Oh my god—please!” you said, stupidly. Not an answer to his question but you’d forgotten how to string words together, your brain-to-mouth connection running on autopilot.
“Gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart,” Bakugou said, and you heard the relish in it. Your face burned, and you yanked his hair a little more firmly. He just groaned, and then sucked you a little harder.
“Touch me! Please—Katsuki,” you panted out, hips flexing unconsciously with the pull of your nipple.
“Thought this was my gift, angel. I can’t enjoy it how I want?” he asked.
You considered his words muzzily, having no idea what he was talking about. Gift? What gift was he talking about?
Bakugou’s scarlet eyes flicked up to yours, and something in your expression must have told him you had no idea what he was on about. His mouth pulled up into a self-satisfied grin, and he leaned up to kiss you again.
You flattened yourself out against his chest, all but velcroing yourself to him. You wanted to feel every inch of that hard body against you, wanted to climb as far into him as you could. Something gratifyingly hard pressed against your stomach as you kissed him, and he grunted, locking you to him with a muscled arm across your back.
“Want me to touch you, angel?” he asked.
You nodded. A smile played across his lips.
“Get on the bed for me then, sweetheart.”
It took a minute for you to process but then you were scrambling to obey, scrabbling your way onto the bed, turning and watching as Bakugou stepped nearer.
He shed his jacket as he approached, yanking off his tie too and flinging it somewhere behind him. Then he crawled over you, his fingers seizing the ties of your robe as he did. He pulled it open gently, then yanked a little harder until the silk tie slid free.
His eyes picked over it speculatively, then flashed back up to you. A look of intent interest settled over his features.
“You ever been tied up before, angel?” he asked.
You shook your head, even as it swam with the implication. Your skin prickled, somehow growing even hotter. He didn’t mean to…?
“You gonna let me?” he asked.
You rather thought you would let him do anything he wanted with you. The question was barely out of his mouth before you were nodding hurriedly. A shocked laugh punched out of him, and he gathered up your wrists, scooting you backwards until they pressed against the headboard.
He looped the silk around your wrists, gathering it into a series of complicated knots. He moved with a purpose and precision, his movements sure and practiced. You tested the give of the ties when he sat back on his haunches, finding that they held firm, even when you put a little more muscle into it.
Bakugou’s gaze blazed over you, hot like coals. His eyes traced over your body, spread out under him now, your silk robe pooling at either side of you in a pink puddle.
He bent his head and kissed you again, until you were fuzzy with the feeling once more. Then he worked his way downwards, softly biting your shoulder, licking over one nipple, pressing deep kisses into your belly and then indent of your left hip.
A shock of pleasure raced through you when you realized where he was going with this, and you let out an involuntarily little gasp as he hooked your thighs over his broad shoulders.
“Katsuki,” you began, though you had no idea what you meant to follow it up with. Bakugou didn’t wait for you to finish, ducking his head and licking a hot stripe up the cleft of you.
Immediately you arched, thighs flexing under his hands. Your face heated when he laughed again, but any embarrassment was instantly forgotten when he licked over you again, slower and more deliberate this time.
“Oh my god,” you said again, biting off into a groan when his tongue dipped deeper between your folds, flicking up over your clit.
“Yeah, angel?” Bakugou asked, his voice a heady rasp. “You like that?” He layered another open mouthed kiss over you, slow and thorough, until you were arching up into his mouth again.
It would have been evident to anyone on earth how much you liked it from the noises you made, the way you kicked and squirmed with the movement of his mouth. He sucked your clit gently into his mouth, then laved over it firmly as he pressed his fingers to you, the pads of his index and middle slowly sinking into you.
Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head when he gave another slow suck, the feeling almost too much. His fingers pressed deeper into you, easily slipping in with how comically wet you were for him. The gentle suction of his mouth made everything a million times better, everything a million times worse, as he carefully curled his fingers within you. He seemed to immediately find a spot within you that felt like he was touching your clit from the other side too, and the feeling was immediately far too much.
“Holy shit,” you heard yourself say, cutting off into an honest to god whine when his tongue swirled around your clit, just as he teased a finger along you from the inside too. “Katsuki—oh! Katsuki please! Please oh my god oh my god.”
Bakugou’s ministrations grew a fraction firmer, and you heard him groan too as he kissed you messily.
“So fucking hot for me, sweetheart. So sweet,” he said, then sucked again, a tiny bit harder this time. His fingers stroked you from the inside, a firm, deliberate rhythm that had you turning your face and muffling a keen into the meat of your arm.
Your hips flexed against his face, wild and uncontrolled, wanting less, more, not enough, too much, oh my god—
“Katsuki!” you cried, as you suddenly hit the crest of your pleasure. Your wrists pulled against their bonds, and the feeling of helpless restraint suddenly made everything feel a thousand times more intense. Every single nerve ending in your body felt like it was on fire, so that even the air of the room seemed too harsh on your skin. You screamed as you rode out your pleasure against Bakugou’s face.
He worked you through it diligently, licking and sucking until you collapsed back to the mattress, panting like you’d just run a marathon.
“Good, angel?” Bakugou asked.
You nodded breathlessly, turning your face to his when he crawled up your body to kiss you again. The taste of yourself on him was both embarrassing and thrilling, but Bakugou didn’t give you much leeway to consider it, kissing you into a stupid, pliant little puddle against the mattress.
You could feel him hard and hot against your hip as he did so, but he didn’t make any move to get inside you yet. Instead, his hands moved over you, slowly teasing you from satiation back into want. His fingers played with your nipples again, pinching them softly and rolling them. It felt like he'd rigged up some kind of wire, leading from your nipples right to your core, that lit the pilot flame of your interest again.
A couple minutes of diligent teasing, and easy, unhurried kisses had you wiggling under him again soon enough. It was only then, when you realized you were unconsciously rocking your hips against Bakugou’s, that he finally sat back to shuck off his shirt and pants.
He was so unfairly beautiful, bared in the bright light of the room. You’d known he was gorgeous, of course, but up close he was something else entirely. He was chiseled with thick muscle, his chest and arms hard and glowing faintly with perspiration. The light and the shadows of the room played over the divots of his muscles with a deliberate care, like he was a painting instead of a man, highlighting him in loving shades. A set of perfect abs trailed down into the hard jut of hip bones over his pelvis, and his cock was just as upsettingly gorgeous as the rest of him. It was thick and full and flush with his arousal, and he wasted no time crawling back between your thighs.
“You ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked. His voice had gone even more gravelly than usual, and it plucked at your core like a string.
“Please, Katsuki,” you said, your voice embarrassingly breathy. You couldn’t help yourself though, couldn’t be ashamed with the easy way your thighs fell apart for him. Your ankles hooked across his back, trying to pull him closer still.
He groaned and surged up over you to grab a condom off the nightstand. He quickly rolled it onto himself in one practiced movement, before immediately pressing himself into you.
He sank in mortifyingly easily, you already half out of your mind with want. He didn’t seem to mind, though—you heard the soft, sibilant hiss of his own pleasure as he filled you, and your robe tugged the skin of your shoulder as he fisted a hand in it, just beside your head.
“Been dying to fuck you, angel,” he said. “Thinking about how hot and tight and sweet you would be for me. Been thinking about it nonstop.”
You made a vague noise of agreement, moving your hips with his as he drew back and pressed inside of you again. The slide of him inside you was mind-numbingly good, the pressure against your stomach as he pressed back in almost sparking stars in your vision. The flex of his abs between your thighs as he found his pace was almost immediately too much for you, and you had to turn your face away. You tilted your face up to his, watching him as he watched you.
Bakugou seemed to read your expression easily, finding the angle and pace you liked incredibly quickly. He slid an arm under the small of your back to angle your hips up into him, yanking you up like you were nothing, and the show of easy strength had your toes flexing and curling against his back.
He kissed you again, catching the sounds of your pleasure in his mouth as he rocked into you. You moved against him, hips bucking, delirious with the feeling of him. Eventually he freed his arm from under you, pressing his thumb to your slit again with deadly precision.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned into his mouth, legs tightening on him as he played with your clit. The almost-too-gentle sensation of his thumb on your clit, coupled with the relentless drive of him inside you had your vision sparking and greying at the edges. His face swam in front of yours, and all of your limbs began to feel shivery, almost too weak to lift yourself into him the way you needed, to rock against him and find relief from the friction.
Bakugou continued to tease at you, carefully pinching and petting. His hips drove into you tirelessly, slapping the bottoms of your thighs, as you strained in your silk bonds, wanting to grab him, pull him even harder into you.
“Katsuki, please please please,” you heard yourself begging. You felt him smile against your mouth, tasted his reply more than heard it.
“You want me to let you cum, angel?” he asked, doing something with his fingers that made your breath catch in your lungs.
“Unhh, yes—please!” you cried, desperation coming over you in a white haze.
You had never—never—been so desperate for anything in your entire life. You didn’t know how Bakugou was doing it, why his touch felt like so much more than anything else you’d ever felt in your life. If he didn’t let you cum you were certain you were going to die, right here and right now.
“You gonna scream for me, sweetheart?” Bakugou asked, his voice raspier than you’d ever heard it. He grit the words out, like he too was on the edge of his own climax, barely staving it off.
“Anything, I will do anything,” you babbled senselessly. “Yes—going to scream for you—Katsuki!”
Bakugou’s gaze was hotter than you’d ever seen it, scarlet eyes clouded with pleasure, glowing like banked coals. “Then you can come for me, angel. Come on, sweetheart.”
“Oh!” you cried in answer, your feet planting themselves on the bed to jut your hips up hard. Bakugou’s thumb pressed hard against your clit, then, firm and merciless, and he fucked into you harder, his pace growing faster, furious.
Your second orgasm hit you like a truck, snapping your spine into alignment, locking all your limbs up as if in rigor mortis.
“Katsuki!” you wailed as you writhed against him, clenching and fluttering around him as you sobbed.
“Oh fuck,” you heard him say, and his hips stuttered. You realized he was coming too, fucking into you sloppily and disjointedly as he rode out his own pleasure. You arched and spasmed with him, clawing uselessly at the silk that bound you, twisting in blissful agony.
When you finally came back to yourself you found yourself slumped on the bed, Bakugou’s weight pinning you down into the mattress. His chest was slicked to yours with sweat, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of it against you as he caught his breath.
“That good, angel?” he asked, his voice heady with satisfaction.
You nodded, absently turning your face back up to his for a kiss. He granted it, kissing you almost possessively. He looked soft and rumpled, just the way you'd always liked him, and something in you purred with satisfaction at finally getting to have him like this for you.
Gradually, you became aware of other sounds in the room as you came down from your high. Quiet murmuring and the sounds of shuffling met your ears, the shutter click of a camera lens slicing through the atmosphere like a knife.
A sudden shock raced through you when you realized you and Bakugou were not alone—and you were on the set of a porn film, half a dozen eyes glued to you just over one of Bakugou’s thick shoulders.
A porn film. You had been shooting a porn film!
“And cut!” you heard the director’s voice ring out, like a bucket of water dumped over your head.
You tensed up beneath Bakugou, mind racing. Holy shit, he had actually managed to make you forget, exactly the way he'd promised.
You could tell Bakugou was thinking the same thing as he went to untie you, looking extremely satisfied with himself.
“Told you, angel,” he said, flashing something of a feral grin. You hated how good the self-conceit looked on him.
You went to draw your wrists back to yourself as he let them free. But Bakugou caught them instead, carefully massaging the skin there as if to make sure things were circulating properly. It was a startling note of unexpected care, as was the way he drew your robe closed around you again against the sudden chill of the room.
You found yourself saying wonderingly, “Wow. It was just that easy for you to switch partners like that.”
The thought somehow stung, even though you’d known going into this what you were getting yourself into. Somehow, the latent care and intention with which Bakugou had fucked you had addled your brain, made you think your connection had been something more. He had felt like he had feelings, beyond those mimed for the camera.
But here was evidence to the contrary, plain and simple. There literally was a camera.
Except then Bakugou looked down at you, a frown marring his pouty mouth. “Well yeah. ‘Course it was gonna be that easy when it’s you we’re talking about.”
You blinked at him, not understanding what he was saying. “Uh. When it’s—me?”
A crease came in between Bakugou’s blonde brows. “I said it, didn’t I? While we were fucking? Wanted to fuck you for a long time. Of course it was easy.”
Your stomach dropped, like a rug had just been yanked out from beneath you. “You—have? What? Since when?” you demanded.
Bakugou leveled you with an unimpressed stare. “Since the second time we met,” he said, and your mind flashed back to the way he’d seemed not to recognize you, that second time you'd spoken to him. “Once I realized you did work for UA and weren’t actually a little fucking creep trying to lure me into your car.”
You felt your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline. “Then—? For years? You cannot be serious. You never acted like we were anything other than coworkers!”
Bakugou scoffed. “We fucking were coworkers. And I told you, I don’t fuck coworkers off the clock.”
You blinked again, startled by the level of professionalism couched in the crassess of his statement. It made sense, you supposed, for a pornstar of Bakugou’s caliber to have put boundaries like that in place. Probably everyone in the world would just be dying for a shot at him.
“Wow,” you said, almost to yourself. You didn’t know what to do with this new information, wondered how it was going to be possible to behave professionally with Bakugou at all going forward. It was probably obvious to him how big your crush on him was, given that he’d known all along he could make you forget you were on camera. Given the way you reacted to him embarrassingly easily.
Except then Bakugou leaned forward, putting his face startlingly close to yours. “Emphasis on were, since this is my last shoot,” he said.
You stared at him, wondering if you were interpreting the implication correctly. There was no way he meant—?
“Uhhhh, meaning what, exactly?” you prompted, heart beating just a little bit quicker despite yourself.
Bakugou’s mouth turned up into a gorgeous smirk, and he ducked his head even closer, voice going softer.
“Meaning you’re going to get dressed and I’m going to take us to get something to eat,” he said, fingers playing at the edge of your robe. “And then you’re going to give me that ride home in your car after all. And we are going to do this all over again.”
Flames erupted across your face, sweeping across your cheeks. And you were up out of the bed before you even realized what you were doing, catching yourself on the bedside table as you stumbled.
Bakugou’s laugh chased out of the set room as you raced towards the wardrobe again. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, this time.
Not when your heart felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest. You smothered a smile as you ran down the hallway.
Much like Bakugou had just done to you—it looked like your hopes and dreams were finally lining themselves up and filling themselves in.
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madamechrissy · 1 day ago
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Baby You're No Good
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Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader
Summary - You have been promised to marry the psychotic, human hating leader of the Geto Clan, Suguru. Your heart sinks at the wedding when you realize you're likely to be ended once you've fulfilled your duty, giving him an heir. He detests you on sight, as do you, but something happens the first time you lay together, Suguru swears you're some witch, because he can't get enough of you. He becomes consumed with fucking you, with the excuse of 'having an heir' but you begin to wonder just where the lines are blurring. Would you survive this- and will Suguru survive being with you?
CW- Arranged marriage trope, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, psychotic Geto lol- lots of hate sex, Suguru calling you a stupid monkey, angsty in places, FULL of smut. Reader is a virgin bc she's sheltered due to been promised to him. Reader is FEISTY asf and mean right back. Explicit sex and Geto being whipped/insane/obsessed and an ass. This part- fingering, fucking, loss of virginity, masturbation (suguru) finger sucking, hate sex, light angst. WC this part- 6.4k
Based on Clan Leader Geto- will be three parts <3 Plz share/comment/like if you enjoy!! Suguru is unappreciated I wanna give this psycho Princess a good fic!
Songs for this part-  Geto Suguru - Fill the Void - I hate everything about you
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Part One
You were to marry Suguru Geto, curse user, rumored cult leader, and clan leader to the major four clans there were. The Kamos, The Zenin, The Gojos and The Getos, the main four clans that you all know there are. As for Suguru’s family, it turns out he is now the clan leader for them, he is the one that they are now riding the whole line of the Geto Clan on.
Marrying you.
You stand there nervously, tummy feeling sick in your pretty white robes as you stare at this psychotic man, this man that thinks people without power are lesser, and perhaps worthless. Perhaps he wishes to eradicate you all, yet for his duty to the Geto clan, it leaves him to have to be with you, the chosen one from your family, for as long as you two were alive.
Maybe Suguru Geto back then was tolerable, back when he was just a clan leader and not all the rumors that are held, but now!? Being his bride was not just terrifying, it was a literal death sentence. After you’d given him heirs you were absolutely sure he’d eradicate you and perhaps anyone you’ve ever known and loved, including your family, who’d just given you the saddest of looks.
They weren’t here, you supposed even they couldn’t live with just handing their only daughter off to him, maybe before, you’d have been excited, remembering meeting him when you were just a teenager, he was a little older than you. Handsome and sweet with this smile that made you want to pinch his cheeks, he was so courteous and sweet, but that was a different man.
You look now, as you nervously step down the aisle, eyes of everyone on you aside from him, Suguru Geto. He’s decked out in brilliant emerald robes, laughing and murmuring to several girls near him. His long black hair is half up, showcasing his handsome features, yes if perhaps he wasn’t a psycho killer, you could find him attractive, not be sick to your stomach.
As some long red headed lady taps his shoulder, her long nails against him, he finally sees you then, and his jaw locks, you feel those violet eyes on you like a physical touch. You doubt he remembers your one meeting years ago, you doubt he recognizes you or cares, or sees you as anything but a nuisance, a duty. But you see his narrowed eyes dip down your body, taking you in.
Your heart hammers as you get closer, a mix of sorcerers scowling or smirking at you, along with the Geto clan looking curiously, murmuring here and there. Everyone hoped to stay on Suguru Geto’s good side, if he had one, you weren’t quite sure, feeling the insane energy emanating from him as he studies you. Another step, another click of your heel echoing in the immaculate hall.
It’s hard to be impressed with the beauty of it, of the Geto estate, surely it’s one of the nicest there are, there are four major families, and the Geto family is one. You don’t know how you ended up being selected, your family is certainly wealthy, but you wonder at your horrific luck now as you stand before him.
You have to lean your head back just to look at the tall man, towering over everyone in the room, he makes you feel so small, even smaller with his quiet assessment, as the room is full of hushed whispers. Half of them surely want you to just die, half of them want an heir from you, you imagine this man in front of you leaning down wants both.
Suguru eyes you carefully, yes you’re beautiful, but you clearly have not an ounce of power, not an ounce of any useful energy. You’re clearly just some pathetic little mortal, which disgusts him, you’re tiny and pathetic, useless. He’s so annoyed this is what he has to do, but he certainly can’t just not fulfill these obligations, as Suguru needs the backing of his family to gain more power.
Already so powerful, and with an enormous, loyal following, he detests that he has to in any way deal with his parents still, but he supposes he will handle it for now. Surely soon he’d have the precious few mortals he allows to live, to be loyal servants at his beck and call, pathetic ants that work for their lives he allows them.
Your eyes lower nervously, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, lights of the soft chandelier hanging above you glittering on your smooth skin. He feels it, you’re terrified, which makes him smirk just a bit, as you should know your place, under him, beneath him, perhaps he can handle you if you’ll be just a little docile. You are pleasing enough to look at.
Something familiar stirs when you look back at him, with eyes glimmering with unshed tears, your lower lip caught in your row of upper teeth. He remembers it like a fog, being at Jujutsu high with his best friends, right before he started to realize how horrible humans were, God he’d been so naive then. Your families introduced you two, but you were young.
He remembers thinking you were pretty, being just a little shy actually, which is so laughable now. You’d met Satoru then too, and he could swear you’d made eyes on him, on his old best friend who now is his enemy, which hurts Suguru in many, many ways, as having Satoru back on the right side, his side. There was no denying Satoru was the strongest, but Suguru was coming for him.
He smiles a bit as he thinks of it, and his pretty face looks terrifying for a moment, making your breath catch, as the priest begins the ceremony, and Suguru rips his eyes from you. You eye black gauged earrings, alone with some little barbell in his eyebrow, details that almost make him seem like a human, but you suppose those are just from long ago.
Suguru feels Manami’s long nails against his back, he turns and smirks at her, ignoring the pretty, but pathetic human in front of him. Manami and him have long hooked up together, though Suguru partakes in many women, she seems to be the main one by his side. Just this morning she’d sucked him off, he had not been in any sort of mood however to do more.
Knowing he’d have to fulfill his stupid duties were irritating him to know end, and no amount of sucking was fixing his shitty mood. He also sees the girls he truly sees as his real daughters, Mimiko and Nanako whispering about the bride just a bit. He errantly thinks he hears ‘pretty’ but he remembers how young they are, and what he keeps them a bit sheltered from still.
They didn’t know all of his plans yet, they were just girls still.
“You may kiss the bride.” Suguru hears errantly, he sighs, leaning down and pressing his lips against yours, hopefully the only time he’ll have to, but something literally jolts through his body as he does. He pulls back, glaring down at you, gripping your wrist, tiny in his massive grip, making you wince a bit, looking up at him with frightened eyes.
“Do you have any cursed energy!?” He demands, narrowing those intense eyes of his, you step back, shaking your head quickly.
“You know I do not. Why ask?” You whisper, he grabs your wrist even tighter, sensing every bit of your body, finding nothing. Why then, had he felt that!? Some odd shock through his system!?
He’d never kiss you again, it is quite annoying.
As the ceremony goes, and Suguru has many people around him, including some redhead you notice is all over him, you come across two little girls, who you’ve been informed are like daughters to Suguru. They both study you curiously, the little blond with pigtails smiling at you.
“You’re just a human, right?” She says, and you nod, shyly.
“Does it… suck to have no powers?” The little brunette says, and you sigh.
“Honestly, no. I don’t want all of that responsibility I guess? Do you all…” They both hold balls of energy, and you step back, heart racing as they giggle.
“Girls, not at the ceremony.” You’re almost shocked to hear him sound- kind, affectionate?- from across the room, chuckling a bit.
“Fine, dad.” They speak at the same time you notice, then they bombard you with more and more questions, while Suguru watches curiously, Manami murmuring things she’d do to him in his ear, as the other members start to dance. Someone dances with you, then, and Suguru…
Well he doesn’t fucking like it.
Why!? You’re nothing really.
When you’re finally done in the ceremony, and you’ve been dressed in some dainty little see through slip, you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, as they finally leave after slathering you in fragrant oil, brushing your hair till it gleamed. You eye yourself in the mirror nervously, seeing the color on your cheeks, the way your eyes look so… frightened really.
Being promised to Suguru meant being sheltered, and aside from making out and some touching when you could sneak out, you were indeed a virgin, and having your first time with a dude who wants to kill you just doesn’t sound fun. You sure wouldn’t let him see how afraid you were, not when he walks into the room, a goblet of wine in his hand, sighing and shutting the door.
You’re tense as he eyes your, thin transparent material showcasing your curves, the nip of your waist, the just of your hips, and most tantalizingly the swell of your breasts. His breath catches at just how good you do look, his cock twitching in response, irritating him to no end.
Perhaps this is just his stupid body’s response, but he does not get attracted to humans, they disgust him, even the pretty ones. But you are… exceptionally sexy right now, could it be all the wine, could it be that he saw you before he changed? Suguru shoves all those thoughts back, gulping down the rest of the red wine now, a drip falling from the corner, and you’re just standing there.
“Let’s get this over with.” He mumbles, and you glare then, making him smirk but also making his cock even more full of blood.
“Let’s, I don’t want this any more than you.” You mumble, unlacing the ribbons over your gown then, and he’s irritated at how bad his hands itch to take it off you, instead raising a brow.
“Oh I doubt that, at least you get to fuck me, someone with power. I am the one that has to fuck a pathetic monkey.” Your scowl deepens, as he unlaces his belt, letting his robes fall, and you see his perfect body, well formed pecs and cut abdomen, lines and swirls of tattoos all over his body, even on his corded arms.
You falter for only a moment, because his body is literally perfect, down to the trail of dark hair below his flat belly button, but you quickly shove all that out, ignoring the way your body is reacting to just seeing him. “Monkey, huh, is that what you call humans?”
“Sure is, pathetic monkeys, lesser developed and-” He pauses when your dress falls in a silky pool to your ankles, and you stand there naked fully, his heart dropping into his damn stomach.
His cock is leaking precum just staring at you, god you’re fucking beautiful, so beautiful he doesn’t think he can put a word to it. It’s as if his cock doesn’t recognize you’re some pathetic human, neither do hands that itch to touch, and his tongue that wants to just lick you.
Fuck you’re annoying.
Why are you built like this!? Your perfect tits alone are making him ache for you so badly he can hardly breathe, as they rise and fall with your own nervous breaths, and you look right at him, boldly. Suguru tries to avert his eyes, to play it off in any way, but he’s awestruck, lips parted, as he watches you cross your arms under those breasts, sees a hint of a pussy he wants to bury himself inside.
Fuck if you were just… if you just had some powers, he’d have so much fun with you, god he’d tell you how pretty you were. He’d make you cum on his mouth over and over, feel you gripping his long locks, but he can’t because you’re… you’re nothing, really, just a monkey… he has to remember.
You see red lining his perfect cheekbones, making you curious at him until he clears his throat, averting his eyes and releasing his hair, letting it cascade over broad shoulders. “Let’s just… get it done.” You murmur then, sitting on the futon now, decked with reds and golds in the luxurious room they had made for the two of you.
That’s when Suguru sees your perfect little pussy, making him bump into the side table, you blink a bit, curiously at him, thighs spread as you rest on your elbows. He cannot even function, you are so perfect he hates it, surely there is something about you, some energy they’re missing, there is no way that you’re a human, with such effects on him!?
He lets his pants fall as he tries to pull himself together, and that’s when you see him, rock hard and thick, far, far too many inches. You panic, wondering just how the fuck that’s gonna fit, you’d had fingers inside you that hurt a bit before, this was probably gonna wreck you. You almost shut your thighs, watching his reddened tip drool pearly drops of precum.
Sheltered but not stupid, he was clearly ready. You raise a brow. “You seem pretty… ready for such a monkey in front of you, hmm?”
Suguru glares now, grabbing you by the hair, cock near your face, you wonder if he’ll shove it in your mouth wildly, but he’s just pulling at your hair, making you gasp out in pain, as he tilts your head back. “Do you even know what to do, pathetic little fucking monkey!?”
“I haven’t before, no.” You whisper then, and he pauses, gulping down some horrible sense of guilt. Not only has he not been with a virgin, he knows he’s clearly not your choice for this.
What is it that's making him feel so much?
He hates it. He hates you.
Is it the fact that he can see you’re afraid, he lays with women who coo over him, who are soaking wet as he just smiles at them, women who drop to their knees if he snaps his fingers. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he shouldn’t care, right? What are humans to a sorcerer?
“I know you need an heir, so just… put it in me.” You say, he chuckles then, shaking his head as he shoves you back on the bed, bouncing just slightly when he rests over you on an elbow, sucking on two fingers then.
It’s so lewd, how his mouth wraps the thick digits, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks on them, before he sinks two right in your tight little cunt, making you gasp at the stretch, and making him exhale, holding back a moan. You’re so tight, clenching him, your gummy little walls convulsing, making him picture just how good you’ll feel around his cock.
“Do you have to!? Just get it in.” You whisper, and he glares down at you, lips parted at your utter lack of knowledge and insolent mouth.
“I can’t, you’re too tight, stupid monkey.” You glare and shove at his chest, only making him chuckle more. “You think I wanna prep or even touch you?”
“You think I w-want those or that in me!? No, just do it. Stop that… touching me inside… mnh!” At the sound of your own moan you cover your mouth, gasping as your eyes shoot up to his, he tilts his head, long silky hair falling like a curtain to the side of you both, as he presses on that spot again.
This time your eyes roll back, and he knows he’s found it, that spot in your pretty pussy that is just a little spongier, as your cunt starts drooling, and his cock has to press against the bed, for any pressure. Not only do you feel so good, so wet, you’re also fucking gorgeous as your head falls back, eyes fluttering shut, and he looks down at the mess you’re making.
“Messy little thing, tsk.” He says then, and you’re struggling to form a word when he puts his fingers back in, building pressure in your tummy that feels far too good, making you hate him more. “Hear her, huh? Monkey that excited?”
“D-don’t hear shit, don’t even l-like it.” You manage to utter out, and he’s smirking down at you, kissing down your breasts far too fondly, moaning as your walls are fluttering around his fingers, sucking a pretty, puffy nipple in his mouth. “Just fuck me, would you?”
“It will hurt you… I-” You pause, blinking as he leans up from licking and biting your breasts, little trails of saliva, as you look at him with wide eyes.
“What do you care, you don’t need me to like it to give me an heir. Just get it done so I can go to sleep.”
Your words hit him then, why does he care? Suguru could slaughter a village but can’t imagine fucking you without preparing you properly, fuck he wanted you to like it, to want him. And why!?
“You won’t be able to take me, tiny pathetic little cunt can’t.” You scowl as he sucks on a nipple again, scissoring his fingers in your cunt now, making lewd squishing sounds as you feel you’re soaked, mortifying you.
“Stop sucking on them, you don’t need to.” You shove him again, and he glares, leaning over you now, intimidating as he curls slick fingers, making you gasp in pleasure, biting your lower lip hard so you don’t scream out how good it is.
“If I must breed you, I’ll do it how I wish to. Stop acting as if you can tell me what to do.”
“I hate you.” You smack him then, earning a psychotic glare, and you realize fuck you’ve messed up, as he takes his fingers out of your pussy and shoves them right in your mouth, making you choke on them.
“Will you shut up, stupid monkey, fuck.” He’s then lining up his cock with your entrance, shoving your thighs up high. “Fine then, wanna get it over with, huh?”
You nod eagerly, hating every second under him, even if your body betrayed you. “Sure do, fucking psycho.”
“Psycho, huh?” You nod again, then gasp in pain as he fills you, stuffing your cunt full in one stroke, making it burn even though you are soaked and prepared somewhat, nothing could really prepare for his huge cock inside you.
“Ah!” You blink back tears, tears that bother him, and they shouldn’t, but now he wants to tenderly brush back your hair, that’s fallen on your brow. He wants to pull back out and prep you more, but you’re an insolent brat who won’t even let him, and he shouldn’t want to.
But your pussy gripping him drives him insane, to the point he could cum in a stroke or two, it’s gripping that fucking good. He can’t take it, he rests his head in the crook of your neck, so you don’t see an already pussy drunk face when he pulls back, shoving his cock even deeper, and feels your nails in his back, digging, hears your little cries of pain.
He wants cries of pleasure.
What the fuck are you doing to him!?
Is it human to have a pussy like this, he wonders, biting back a moan and leaning up, grabbing at one of your thighs to sink deeper, and you hate that it starts to feel good, when he starts fucking into you. Thick cock stretching, as your cunt gushes around him, his tip dragging on some spot that makes your eyes roll back again in pleasure, and this fucker notices.
“She’s fuckin’ soaking my cock, huh? Like it, pathetic little monkey, a sorcerer over you?” You manage to glare, shaking your head, his attractive smirk widening, as he fucks you deeper and harder, and you’re a tremblind mess under him. “Oh no, you don’t hmm?”
“N-no, hate it. Hate you.” He scowls now, as you gulp down moans and cries he’s dying to hear, so he pays attention, to when you’re gasping, clamping down, realizing the spot and angle you’re dying over, so Suguru grins down at you, lifting your thighs up so high he slams your cervix. “Ah!”
“There it is.” He whispers to himself, pressing on the backs of your thighs and slamming your cervix, over and over, as you’re moaning so sexy, your back arching, while he’s folding you damn near in half now. “F-fuck… you feel so…” He stops himself, he can’t say that.
It feels so perfect.
Feels like you’re made to take his cock.
You’re so pretty under him, perspiration on your forehead, eyebrows scrunched, lips red from you biting them, your eyes glazed over. God you’re gorgeous, as his cock is throbbing inside your tight walls, and you’re struggling so hard to act like you hate it, when he’s hitting that spot over and over, his tip dragging on it again and again. You moan out loud, whining when he rolls his hips bottoming out.
“J-just cum, finish it. W-wanna be d-done.” You whisper, he glares now at you.
“Not enjoying it at all?”
“Hate it. B-boring.” Suguru laughs now, shaking his head, slamming into you, and you’re screaming out, convulsing, feeling pressure build and build, realizing with a panic then.
You’re gonna cum.
Not for him, dammit!
You struggle to hold back, shaking your head and covering your face, when he lets your thighs fall to the side, yanking your hands off your face, pinning your wrists above your head with a strong hand, long fingers wrapping your delicate wrists like they’re nothing. You gasp at it, as his other hand yanks you by your hip, slamming you down his length.
“I’ll look upon your face.” He says through his teeth, dying to watch it when you cum, and fuck he feels it, you’re so close. He wants it then, he needs it, you to cum all over him, milking him so good, and your eyes go wide in shock, but they’re already so fucked out. He’s leaking precum inside you, dragging on that spot and watching you unravel for him.
“Why do y-you wanna- mnh, f-fuck!” You’re clinging to the sheets, when Suguru would like you to cling to him, as he sends you over the fucking edge, and he watches your gorgeous face screw up in pleasure, making his cock pulse.
Fuck you’re pretty.
Fuck he hates you for doing this.
He’s never even felt anything better than this.
“Can’t help yourself, huh monkey? Gonna cum all over my cock, aren’t you?” He whispers, you shake your head, still pinned under him, and he lays over you, grinding his cock inside you, dark hair on his pelvis just pressing on your neglected clitoris, then you feel it, and he moans. “There it is.”
“No, no, no… f-fuck you… hate… ah!” You’re shattering, cumming so hard you can’t even see, all while this psycho watches avidly, and you hate him more for it, for giving you this orgasm that almost makes you faint. “Sh-shit… mnh…”
Your cunt soaks his cock as the orgasm wrecks your brain, as you’re convulsing around his thick veiny cock, with its tip pressing into your cervix, and you’re twitching under him, pathetic. You gasp as he fucks you through it, disoriented and blinking rapidly at how euphoric you feel, listening to the grunts and groans of his and the squelching of your cunt.
“Oh my… f-fuck…” Suguru groans now, unable to hold back any longer, violet eyes so dilated they look black as they drink in your face, lips hovering over yours, cock fucking harder and harder.
You almost cum again, clenching around him, as he moves over you, stuttering in his rhythm finally, faltering just a bit, gripping you tightly as he moans out, his breath hot against your lips, lips he wants to kiss, a mouth he wants to spit inside, tongue he wants to feel on his skin. You’re maddening, he realizes then, as he gets closer to his release, his cock throbbing at your pussy milking him so good.
“Mnh… shit I hate… you…” You whisper, as you’re cumming again, and he grips your wrists so hard they’ve gone numb, starting to pump hot loads of cum inside, you, groaning out loud at how good it feels.
“Milking me, shit… f-feels so fucking perf-” Suguru holds it back, luckily you’re too fucked out to care, as his cum fills you, so hot and gooey, and you’re both gasping for breaths, the room quiet save front he sounds of his cock slipping inside you, and your hearts pounding. “Filled you so fucking good, monkey, hmm?”
“G-good, it’s over…” You whisper, damn near delirious as your aftershocks make your sticky walls grip him, he gasps at it, pumping even more, as he looks into your eyes, feeling too much.
“Y-yes. Over.” He manages to spill out, and you whimper when he kisses your neck, something he shouldn’t indulge in, easing off your wrists and looking at them, his hand left prints clearly.
You ease them down, fingers wresting on his shoulders for a moment, a moment that feels too good, too natural, before you press on him. “Can you go, then?”
“What?” He blinks in confusion, cock still inside of you, fuck he never even wants to leave, so hot and wet and-
“Your seed is inside me, we should be good for now. I’m… sore. Please get off of me.” You look away now, and Suguru’s pulse races, as you refuse to look at him whatsoever when he gets off, easing his cock out of you with a messy pop sound, tensing as he sees the evidence of your innocence between your thighs.
“Let me clean you up.” He murmurs, and you glare, shaking your head and closing your legs then. “Would you just-”
“Fuck you, get out. I don’t need you cleaning me up, we’re good until… I guess whenever we have to do this again.” You stand on wobbly legs, as Suguru stands, looming over you as you head to the shower adjoining the room, grabbing you by the top of your arm. “What!?”
“So eager to run off, monkey? You should thank me.”
You laugh then, ignoring the throb of your pussy and the pounding in your head, fuck him he felt so good in you, you’ve never even felt that good before, not from little orgasms you gave yourself. You hate him more for it, not only did your first time have to be with this ass of a man, a psycho killer, you also came when you didn’t even want to, making it all worse/
“Thank you!? For what!”
“For cumming inside you.” He presses you against the wall then, looming over you so tall, his sweet breath like the grapes of the wine as he grabs your chin, forcing your eyes on his. “For making a monkey like you cum.”
“You didn’t make me cum, stupid psycho.” You glare right at him, chest heaving as you speak the lies, but he laughs right down at you, thumb brushing over a lip with teeth indentations from how hard you bit it.
“Didn’t cum? You’re a fucking liar, on top of being pathetic. Useless.”
“Useless, yes except to have your stupid heir. I can’t wait to get pregnant, actually, so I’ll never have to get touched again.”
“Oh yeah, so fucking horrible?”
“Terrible.”
“And you’re disgusting to me.”
“Good!” You shove at his strong chest, slick with sweat, and pause there then, as does he, a hand now entwined at the nape of your neck, as he dies to kiss you, brutally, over and over, but he just holds you there. “Am I done for the night Lord Geto, or whatever the fuck you like to be called?”
He’d like you to scream Suguru.
Fuck.
“Will you just let me clean you up, it was your first time and-”
“Oh no, you’re not gonna play like you care at all. We did what we had to do, what we both had to do, neither of us wanted it, or enjoyed it. Right?” You demand then, raising a brow, and he scowls.
“Not right, and I’m just-”
“I remember it, meeting you, you were… sweet.”
He laughs then. “What?”
“You were, and him? I’d have been happy to do this, but you? I don’t wanna look at you and think of it. Let me go.” He scowls as he goes to grab his clothes now, and you lean against the wall, covering your face, not wanting him to see just how you are affected by him.
“I’ll be putting a curse at your door, to make sure you don’t run.” He says then, making you blink in shock, seeing he’s dressed finally, putting his hair back up.
“I have nowhere to run to.” He pauses at that, jaw locked. “But go ahead, maybe it’ll be better company than you.”
Suguru scoffs. “Clean up.”
“Get out.” You order, finally he turns, walking out, leaving you to step into the shower, letting the hot spray hit you, sore in places you’ve never imagined, thinking just how much you hate him.
You’re sobbing then, under the coverage of the shower, where no one would see you, see what he’s done to you, your mental state in ruins. You scrub everywhere his elegant fingers touched, everywhere his lush lips kissed, hissing when you wash your sore pussy, looking down at your fingers, finding his cum pouring out of you. Hot, sticky white cum washed by the shower.
Steam fills as you slide down to sit in the shower, resting your head on your knees, hating him so much you can barely breathe. Bad enough he fucked you, why did he have to make you enjoy it, why did he act like he cared for your pleasure, cared for you after even? A lie, all a lie, and it’s the last thing you need. 
You will hate him.
Outside your room, Suguru leans his back against your door, trying to catch his breath, head swirling with you, hands shaking as they brush back his hair. You have him shaking, you annoying, stupid brat of a girl, who wouldn’t even let him try to care for you, at all.
Why’d he want to though? You were right, your duty was fulfilled for the night, he should stop thinking of how he’d love to be in that shower with you, how he’s dying to be back inside you, imagining making you admit how good it felt. He could feel your slick on his cock still, wondering if you feel him pouring out of you, dying to breed you again, again, again.
He detests you.
Summoning a curse, a rather derpy looking one shaped like a bull with several eyes, he plops him next to your door now, this is a docile curse he’s had since his youth, bringing back too many memories. Of being happy, of laughing, of a girl named Riko, right before he’d snapped, her riding this curse on its back as they tried their best to save her.
It proved how disgusting humans were that day, lest he ever forget, his fist clenched as he struggles to gain his resolve, looking down at the creature now. “Guard this door.” It nods, tongue lolling out, Suguru sighs then. “Also make sure you… care for the girl in this room. Yes?”
It nods again, as Suguru does not know if you are safe really, surely no one would go against him, but there is much hatred already for humans, and many, many people hate you. But he wants you to be safe, otherwise he’ll just get another bride thrown on him, and who knows if he’d hate her more.
Suguru ends up in his room now, sighing as he sees Manami there with another woman from his cult, he shakes his head as they try to disrobe him. “No, I am not in any sort of mood for it.”
“But Suguru, it must've been awful.” Manami cooes, and the other girl nods, as they rub up and down his arms, making him feel disgusted.
How?
How do they, powerful women, make him disgusted now? He owes you no loyalty, he did not plan to only be with you, but the thought of anyone but you actually makes him sick. What sort of witchcraft do you possess, some new undetectable kind that he hasn’t figured out, to make him feel like this? Are you some weapon to destroy his fucking plans?
“Go. Now.” Suguru orders then, and they pout as they leave, but Suguru can’t get his mind off you, not when he’s washing you off in the shower, every vivid thought of making you enjoy it fills his mind.
Suguru hates you more when he’s stroking his cock to the thought of you whimpering, begging for him, on your knees with your tongue out. He’s moaning as he pinches his tip, he already came so much but he can’t stop how hard he is, thinking of how your eyes would cross as he fucked your throat, as he came so deep and you swallowed him greedy.
Thinking of you riding him, your tits bouncing right in his face, your thighs squeezing his face as he lapped his cup out of your pussy after. ‘F-fuck, you like it, don’t you’ he’s muttering, wet hair sticking to his back as water pounds down, and he’s stroking his cock faster and faster, eyes shutting, vivid pictures of you everywhere.
‘That’s it, good girl, cumming just for me, mine, aren’t you’ he’s stuttering, saying stupid insane shit, so high off your pussy he can’t even talk himself out of it, not when his big hand strokes his thick shaft over and over.
When Suguru cums again he moans out loud, hunching over and gasping for a breath, hating you more for what you’ve done when his sticky cum pours all out of his hand now. He rinses himself off, shaking his head and covering it with his other hand, realizing jerking off was nothing like cumming inside you, like fucking your perfect little pussy.
Just who the fuck are you?
******
The next day of being Suguru’s wife, you open the door and gasp, seeing some bull shaped creature who’s grinning at you, several eyes wide open as it licks your leg, making you squeak. “What!?”
“He likes you.” Comes Mimiko’s voice, she’s poking around on her phone, and you take a breath, smiling a bit.
Just because Suguru is a psychotic dick, it doesn’t mean you’d take it out on little girls, or oddly cute curses. “Can I pet it?” You ask, and Nanako giggles next to her sister, stepping closer.
“He’s docile.” She pets him then, and the thing damn near purrs, you bend down on your knees now, petting him yourself, sighing.
“He’s kinda cute?” They burst out in laughter, leaving the hall then, as you find the first bit of comfort in one of stupid, psycho Suguru’s curses. “You like me?”
He nods, licking on your cheek, you swipe at it, wincing as it runs off, and suddenly Suguru Geto is standing right in front of you, as you’re just on your knees still, looking up at him. Vivid insane thoughts fill you, as you feel your tummy clench, pussy so sore from him still, thinking of the dreams you’d had of this ass of a man, and now you’re just… there.
He freezes when he sees your hair fall back, loose and flowing, shimmering likely from your shower, and you’re right where he pictured you, what he jerked himself to over and over. The urge to pull out his cock and fuck your pretty face was overwhelming, driving him so insane his cock responds violently, already leaking precum, annoying him to no end.
He’d turned down more women this morning, because now he’s coming to a really annoying realization- he wants you. Only you. He’s blaming his stupid body, for wanting a petty human, but it’s undeniable, while you just blink and look up for a moment, before you clear your throat, standing and grabbing the door way, looking away now.
“Where’d the curse go? I like him.”
“You like him!?”
“Better than you, I was right. He’s cuter.” You smile then, and he glares, grabbing you right by your throat, only making you laugh.
“Who’s the psycho here, me or you?” He whispers, and you grip his wrist now, as he looks how pretty your neck is with his hand around it, as he looks at glossy lips he wants to kiss.
“Gonna kill me before the heir?” You whisper, when he squeezes just so.
“Tempting to do so.” He whispers against your lips, and you come to a very annoying realization of your own, when your nipples tighten, when your pussy drips from him choking you.
You want this psycho.
Just your body, you’ll just blame that, but it’s undeniable, and it makes you despise him more. “Go for it, put me outta my misery. Won’t have to look at you.” You say, he squeezes harder, stepping a little further in the room, as you feel lightheaded, and fucking horny.
What’s wrong with you!?
“Why don’t we work harder on making it happen then?”
“Now!?” You demand, and he shuts the door, smirking, undoing his black robes as you rub your sore neck.
“Now.”
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Taglist open for parts two and three if you're not on it already <3 Hope you enjoyed this, I know Geto doesn't hit like my Gojo or Sukuna posts, but I rly tried lol. Can't wait to see what ya'll think!
Taglist #1- @ur-1fav-girl @gradmacoco @arabellasolstice @saitamaswifey @rjreins @uarmyhopeworldwide @makkiihehe @dabisdolly @angelzrulez21-blog @espresso1patronum @juicu @meme848 @arcanedx @satxoru @jeon-blue @longlivegojo @silvarys @enhasrii @inthedarkshadows000 @shokosmokes @schlokki @ashdiamashi @socutesotall @staarflowerr @you-need-namjesus @tojicvmslut @pkcoleight @tasteofapplecider @erenspersonalwh0re @soyokosuguru @boobsbeesbongos @sjstg3 @msniks @hhhhhhhikariiiiiiii @l1v1ngzomb1e @lilbxtchsyndrome @voideddd @maddyhehehehhe @norikuna @yenayaps @alygator77 perm tags (rest in rbs) @honeybunnnnie @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @loafteaw
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clemworld · 12 hours ago
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self described tme person makes a list of "shit transmisogynists do"
includes shit that has nothing to do with transmisogyny in it and just shows youre kinda an ass
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going to start using this for every dipshit post i see on here
#'defaults to they them' many do. people dont know you or your pronouns.#'why are you dividing the trans community' could be said in a million contexts#guys or dude as gender neutral? some people do that.. its when they dont stop when you tell them your boundaries its an issue#same with using 'ms girl' or something#'Tme/tma is a new way to ask for AGAB' how many people misuse it; yea#and you cannot deny the common misuse of it in our community spaces#'misandry is real' ive seen 1 blogger say this. most bloggers jave these words put in their mouths by bad faith arguments🚩#'we're all equally oppressed' the same system oppresses us. there is no 'worser' oppression. oppression is not a scaled thing#'genderfuck blah blah blah' you know you harm TMA people by being an ass to non gender binary conforming people too right?#'actually transmisogyny affects us all' proves you have not read a single thing from the person who coined the term and you see the trans 1/#community as a tme/tma dichotomy which is bullshit#she even mentioned DRAG QUEENS are affected by it#identity determinism does nothing to actually talk about oppression#'you just hate transmascs' if you're being accused of this maybe self reflection is in order instead of bitching online#'trans women are more visible' yea. transfems and transmascs *on average* in america face different issues#both hypervisiblity and invisiblity are harmful in their won ways#and we should be allowed to talk about if#'why wont you let us talk about our experiences' again.. why are you being accused of this? self reflect instead of screaming transmisogyny.#especially*** as someone who is self described as tme jfc#'afabs are affected by misogyny mroe than you' i feel like a lot of these things are purposefully miscontrued points to make it sound absurd#you are not arguing correctly because due to your discourse rotted brain you opt to take everything in bad faith#and put words in peoples mouths.. yikes#i cannot imagine a world where this is actually a phrase that is being called out#instead; it will be used to miscontrue people talking about their experiences with misogyny but theyre a man so how dare they#like idk man i feel like most of this is bad faith interpretations of real shit#this whole thing reaks.. stop thinking you speak for all of us#its weird#you did a weird ass thing#this whole thing is just dumb bullshit that does nothing to talk about transmisogyny#just dickride dumbass discourse
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leighsartworks216 · 2 days ago
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His Beautiful Nose
Sylus x gn!Reader
This is all I think about when I see him sometimes, genuinely. I just see his nose and I go a little insane
Warnings: fluff, established relationship, kissing, biting, teasing, silly
Word Count: 1,001 (all my fics lately have had such satisfying word counts ough so good)
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AO3
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"Sweetie, what are you doing?"
You shush him, focused on whatever the hell you were up to right now. Sylus quirks a brow at you.
"I think I have a right to know, since you're holding my face hostage," he teases, speaking in a languid murmur, raspy.
You'd found him asleep in one of his many lounge chairs; legs out, arms crossed, head back. It was impossible to ignore the desire to sneak around behind the chair and hold his face. Of course, doing so woke him up, which led you here.
"I'm just appreciating how pretty you are," you tell him. And it's not technically a lie. You are appreciating his beauty. Just, a specific part of his beauty.
"And you can't sit in my lap and do that?" He reaches back behind the chair. His large hand finds your back easily and begins tracing light shapes into your sides, your spine - wherever he could reach.
You giggle and squirm away from his ticklish touch. "No, now stay still and hush."
He huffs with exasperation, but he does as you ask. His hand settles on your lower back, loosely holding you close. He appreciates you in turn with his crimson eyes, half-lidded with sleep.
You run your thumbs along his cheeks. His skin is smooth, pliant beneath your fingers. He seems so untouchable - and he is. To everyone that isn't you. The fact you're this close means more than you'll ever be able to fully grasp.
You lean down and press a delicate kiss between his eyebrows. His fingers twitch against your back. You trace under his eyes, coaxing him into closing them and putting his full trust in your hands. You kiss the spot again.
The next spot your lips find is perhaps half an inch down, at the point where his nose begins protruding from his face. It's an odd place for a kiss, he thinks. You must be up to something, yet he allows it anyway.
Kisses are slowly peppered down his nose. Each one takes its time, each following the strong line of his nose, over the bump and the wide bridge, down to the tip. Each one pours into the lazy smile tugging at his lips. You really woke him up just to "appreciate" his nose?
The kisses retreat towards his brow, but never reach it. One kiss, then two placed at the most prominent part of his nose's definition, and then-
He cracks an eye open. "Did you just bite my nose?"
You hum with a slight nod, kissing over the spot again. "I've been wanting to bite it for weeks now. This seemed like the perfect opportunity." Despite the nonchalant way you say it, he can practically feel the heat radiating off your face and onto his.
He chuckles softly and draws you closer by your back. "Do it again."
Truly, you didn't expect for that to be his response. You anticipated this being the one and only time you'd ever be allowed to do this. But he's encouraging it, with clear amusement.
Your teeth settle on either side of the bridge of his nose and not very far down, not even as far back as your canines, and gently bite down. It's not a lot of pressure, either. Realistically, it's more of a light nip, but he hums his approval. When you pull away, your lips catch on his skin, just as his do when he bites your hand. It's perfect.
His eyes watch now with unreserved affection. His hand trails up your back, reaches to cradle the back of your neck and the base of your skull. "Come here," he murmurs lowly. You're guided forward, drawn down as he tilts his head further back to meet his lips.
Your mouths move together in languid, drowsy kisses. The faint wet sound of your lips parting and shared, soft breaths fill the room. His nose presses against your chin, and yours in his, but neither of you move from the awkward angle except to deepen the kiss.
You feel the smirk on his lips before you see it. He pulls away and your body is suddenly weightless, floating through the air, carried by playful tendrils of energy.
"Sylus! What're you doing?!" You're flipped over him, slow enough you don't get lightheaded, to the front of the chair and directly into his lap. His arms wrap powerfully around your waist to draw you against his chest. Light kisses trail along your neck.
"You woke me from my nap. It only seems fair to keep you here," he says against your skin.
There's no point trying to push his arms away or wriggling free. He's much too strong for that. So, you give in. You sigh with a playful roll of your eyes and lean back into him, trying to find some comfortable position. Once you're settled, one of his arms slips from around you, and gently fingers turn you by your chin to face him.
"I also need to return the favor, don't I?"
He takes his sweet time doing so. A trail of kisses, all light pecks, winds from your jaw to your chin to your cheek. They finally come to your forehead, where he places one between your brows. Down to where your nose begins. Down over the bridge, to the tip, and back up.
Your breath catches in your throat as he tilts his head and carefully lines his teeth up in just the same way you did. He bites down, gentle in a way that seems unfathomable to anyone else who knew him. After a second, he pulls away, lips catching on your skin.
He leans back into the chair and guides your head to his shoulder before wrapping his arm around you once more. He sighs, long and low, with content. "Wake me up in four hours," he murmurs.
"And what am I supposed to do until then?"
"You should have thought about that before you snuck in, sweetie."
---
Tag List:
@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08
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goddamnitmahtin · 2 days ago
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Danny’s Designer Friend
Okay so hear me out. Danny jumps universes a lot right? It’s a part of running errands for Clockwork. He may be the Ghost king but since he was Clockwork’s mentee at the same time, he had to run time errands sometimes. It took him to some really interesting places.
Some places had magic, some didn’t. Some had heroes that used their own devices and some had heroes that used magical artifacts to manifest abilities. Some didn’t have heroes at all. Some universes had lots of technology and some were working to catch up. And obviously, Danny had his favorites. And he had his favorite people from each.
So…. Danny had an idea.
Bruce looked around suspiciously, alert to any dangers that may be in the area. He and all of his children were on duty when all of a sudden he ended up in a modern mansion of sorts with an indoor waterfall.
“What in the world-?” He heard Tim say as Red Robin appeared as well.
“Oi-!” from a surprised Spoiler as she appeared.
Sword slashing noises as Robin appeared, apparently trying to slice the air, “What is this trickery!”
Next Duke in his pajamas and Nightwing appeared, landing on top of one another. “Get your sweaty ass off me,” Bruce heard his son say as he pushed his older brother off of him.
“GUYS!” Oracle called as she fell. She had teleported in but her chair didn’t seem to have come with her. Red Robin and Spoiler caught her just in time.
Orphan appeared silently.
Then Oracle’s wheelchair popped in, dropping onto Signal just as he had stood up. “Oh come on!” he exclaimed as a post it note apology appeared on his forehead. Presumably for forgetting the chair.
Lastly, Red Hood appeared, guns out and ready to fire. That is, if only he had anything to fire at. He quickly put them away once he realized it was only the bats and birds. The others wouldn’t have noticed it but behind his helmet, Jason was wide eyed, noticing the post it note. He only knew of two entities that used that form of communication and one meant something significantly better than the other.
After a few moments of Red Robin and Spoiler helping Oracle into her chair, footsteps could be heard approaching. Everyone tensed, ready for a fight. Except Red Hood who could feel his core tugging at him familiarly.
Two people approached. First person they were able to see was Danny. He had decided to show up in his kingly glory, his ceremonial cloak billowing behind him. As he got closer, they could see a very short woman with black hair and round glasses smoking a cigarette walking with him. Despite Danny being a king, she was the one in charge.
The woman walked up to the group with a judgmental look, “Every one of you. When I point, you tell me your title and occupation. Go.”
Nobody said anything.
“You guys better do what she says,” said Danny chuckling. Their faces so far were hilarious.
Slowly, the family obliged, starting with Red Hood.
“I go by Red Hood. I’m a crime lord. And a vigilante I guess,” Jason said. He knew enough to know they weren’t in any danger.
The others followed along until finally it got to Bruce, “I’m Batman. Vigilante.”
The short woman scoffed and immediately started pointing out the flaws in everyone’s outfits, “You all look ridiculous! What is that, bunny ears? And you! Red, green and yellow are far too many colors! You look like a traffic light! You! Those shoes are impractical and appalling! Do any of you know what style is?!”
She walked up to Duke, “I have seen photos of your suit and it is disgusting! Too bright!”
She gestured wildly to the group, “And NO CAPES!”
The woman then went up to Red Hood, “You are perfect darling, practical and filled with personality. You are my favorite.”
Danny chuckled, “He’s my favorite too.” The king shot a knowing smirk to Jason who under his helmet blushed from the comment.
“I am designing you all new suits right away!” the woman exclaimed with a wild look in her eye.
Danny couldn’t help but start laughing at this point. The looks on everyone’s faces were pure gold. This was the best idea he had literally ever had.
“I can’t wait to see it Edna. I can pay for it too,” the king said, sneaking a glance at Red Hood, “Anything for future in-laws.”
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highvern · 2 days ago
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Beggin' On My Knees
Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader
Genre: fluff, smut, hint of angst, established relationship, biker! hoshi
warnings: pregnancy, impreg/breeding kink, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, praise kink, body worship, spitting, praise kink
Length: ~8k
Note: inspired by the Please, Please, Please MV. this was originally an idea for taehyung but alas my top freak took over again. something about biker/mechanic hoshi really is beautiful thank u @tomodachiii @haologram and @gyuswhore for keeping me sane
summary: After another run in with the law, you come to terms with the fact your friends might be right about your fiancé.
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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Even at your age, it’s somehow more embarrassing to buy pregnancy tests than condoms. You wouldn’t know since you’ve never bought condoms. That particular responsibility falls exclusively on your fiance after the few times in college when you snagged handfuls from the bucket inside the campus clinic.
You’ve bought a pregnancy test before. Not for yourself but for friends too embarrassed to walk into the pharmacy and publicly declare how active their sex lives were. Now you understand why they wanted someone else to do it. Why are there twenty different brands? Why do they require some high school employee to unlock the case so you can pick the one you want? Why are they so damn expensive? The anxiety you feel rivals the first time you bought weed sophomore year of college from some sleazy frat boy.
You’ve got the box resting on the bathroom counter, a timer on your phone, and the test just out of sight while you pace back and forth in the small space. The door is shut for no other reason than to isolate away from Soonyoung in the event he gets off work early.
You should call Soonyoung. He’d want to know, fight the urge to say something stupid like “I’ll try harder next time” when the tests come back negative and instead offer to pee on one in solidarity if only to lighten the mood.
You never understood when people say a woman just knows until right now because with each passing second the reality that those tests are going to be positive sink in. Despite the fact you and Soonyoung almost always use a condom and the times without them end with him coming anywhere not inside you. You just know it.
Each second ticks down like a bomb waiting to detonate.
Positive. Positive. Positive.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Your stomach twists.  Surprisingly, you don’t dread it as much as you would have a year ago. But a million things a baby entails rush over you. Cleaning out the spare room upstairs, doctors appointments, daycare, clothes, school. Do you even know how to actually take care of a kid? One that belongs to you, who you can’t give back to their person when they get fussy or hurt.
Soonyoung was born to be a dad. He never hid how badly he wanted a family of his own, a family with you. He’s good with kids too. You’ve seen him with his nieces and nephews, your friends’ kids. The middle schoolers in your neighborhood come to him with broken bikes and scooters to be fixed, knock on your front door to ask if he can help them get their ball down from some tree. Even if he doesn't know what he’s doing he’d be there by your side.
As the initial shock washes away, the knots in your chest slowly unfurl. You can do this. Even though you planned your life down to the last detail, Soonyoung has a way of sweeping you into his tide. Engagement, marriage, house, babies. In that order. You’ve already got the house before he asked you to marry him and your wedding is only a month away. 
After the worst of the panic settles into restless jitters, you leave the solitude of the bathroom. Soonyoung still isn’t home from work yet but it isn’t unusual. He’s been pulling more hours, shouldering more responsibilities since Mr. Lee, the owner, hinted at a promotion. Glancing at the clock, you guess he’ll walk through the door in two hours which gives you plenty of time to put together something to surprise him.
After a long shower, you burn time by cleaning up non-existent messes; you can’t sit still. The ‘surprise’ ends up being lackluster. Your weekly grocery shopping trip is tomorrow so the fridge is slim pickings for dinner and you make the executive decision to go out once Soonyoung is home. Some fancy restaurant neither of you can afford with tiny dishes designed to leave you hungry and stopping at the diner at the edge of town for a burger. 
While the noise from the TV hums in the background, you scroll through internet searches on what to do when expecting. Doctors appointments, blood tests, advice on budgeting. It’s information overload but you’re giddy even with the stress.. Then you see it. A screenshot from one of your friends. No words, just a photo. 
“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
The longer you stare the quicker the realization becomes a reality. Soonyoung, your Soonyoung, the Soonyoung you’ve been waiting to get home, the reason for three positive pregnancy tests still on the bathroom counter, stares back. Or his mugshot does. A proud stain on the town jail’s website for everyone to see.
Storming out of the house, you notice Jeonghan’s car is gone from his own driveway. Hopefully he’s given your fiance an earful at the station already. If not, you’ve got plenty to say.
Whatever giddy happiness possessed you earlier is long gone, rotten disgust taking its place. How stupid do you look waiting for him at home while he’s gone and gotten himself locked up?
That stupid bike.
It isn’t the first time. That was the initial appeal back when you were a doe eyed freshman, finally out from under your parents thumb with more freedom than you knew how to handle. Soonyoung was the stereotypical bad boy with a taste for fast cars, working in a garage to your good girl persona who set the curve in all her classes. A few drinks at a run down dive bar landed you on his bike in some back alley, a hand under your skirt while he whispered the nastiest things you’ve ever heard. Then you returned the favor back at his apartment, riding him with enough vigor the headboard slapping against the wall sent his neighbors into a fit.
Then came the routine of Soonyoung picking you up from your dorms late at night, staying out until sunrise doing who knows what. He showed you off at street races, called you his girl in front of friends, and would take you out to the lake after winning a race and make you feel like a winner too. 
It was fun. 
Until the calls he’d been out street racing again wore down your patience as your friends’ giddy curiosity turned to embarrassment and ‘I told you so’s. It wasn’t enough to break your heart, but it tore your ego to shreds. They called him a loser and you defended him time and time again because you loved him. Because he promised it wouldn’t happen again.
He promised the last time was the last time. The time before that was also the last time and the time before and so on. 
The parking lot of the police station is nearly empty this time of day; a few police cars and a handful of other vehicles. Otherwise, it sits deserted. 
Jeognhan is waiting for you at the front desk, pretending to type away at something on the computer but you know better. You’ve done this song and dance too many times. 
“What the fuck did he do this time?” 
He quirks an eyebrow, sliding a clipboard with the usual paperwork your way as he speaks. “What do you think?” 
You nearly rip through the paper from pressing the pen so hard as you sign. “You’re fucking kidding me.” 
“Ma’am, language,” a young officer warns.
You’ve never seen him before and the stern look on his face pisses you off even more. His eyes widen in what must be fear because he scrambles back to the filing cabinet at the back of the room without speaking. “I didn’t know you had a new bitch, Han.” 
Jeonghan takes his clipboard back before you can whack him with it. “Nope, that's still your fiancé. Chan, go get Soonyoung from the box.” 
“Tell him I’ve got a hammer in the car for his balls,” you call. 
“Please refrain from making threats inside the police station.”
Soonyoung has the sense to look afraid when he rounds the corner. He’s still in his work clothes, oil stained shirt and dirty coveralls, hair matted to his forehead. You can only imagine what he sees. Last time you picked up he’d still been drunk from a bar fight and you made him sleep on the porch with Jeonghan’s engine as an alarm clock. You’d been too tired to make threats, half asleep the entire time. This time, you feel on the verge of crying, throwing up, and exploding into a fiery rage.
You don’t wait for him while Jeonghan hands over the bag of Soonyoung’s belongings. Halfway to the car, he races to catch up without a word and goes as far as rushing ahead to open the driver's door for you. There’s a fraction of a second you contemplate speeding off before he can get into the passenger seat, let him walk home in the dark as punishment for being a dumbass. But you don’t. You want to yell at him for being a dumbass until your throat bleeds.
The car smells like motor oil and sweat with him so close in the passenger seat. You gag at the stench, rolling all the windows down to avoid vomiting. The last thing you want right now is to need him.
Under usual circumstances the silence hanging heavy in the air would be comfortable, familiar and warm with the golden hue of the sunset and the sound of cicadas not far off. The world holds its breath, but you don’t.
“Do you know how embarrassing it is to find out you got arrested from someone sending me your mugshot?” you ask at the first red light. Soonyoung tries to answer but you cut him off. “No, you don’t. Because I’d never put you in that position.”
He grumbles out the window. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re better than me.”
“You think I’m pissed because I think I’m better than you? I’m pissed because you act like a fucking loser. I’m pissed because you’re a liar! You promised me you wouldn’t do this dumb shit anymore. YOU PROMISED ME. And I look like an idiot because I’m stupid enough to trust you.”
You wait for an excuse. Some honeyed platitude about how much he loves you and it being a mistake and how it’ll never happen again but Soonyoung offers nothing. 
“What do you want me to say?” he asks.
You scoff. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t.”
“Clearly!” you shriek, the vein in your neck throbbing. “Do you know how it feels to have my friends send me your mugshot? I’m at home tearing my hair out and you’re street racing some kid for kicks.”
“He wasn’t a kid—” 
“I don’t give a fuck!” The edges of your vision scorch red, teeth gnashing. You’ve never been this angry with him. You’ve never been this angry, period. “Grow up!”
He’s lucky Jeonghan caught him and not one of the other officers hell bent on cleaning up the streets. He’s lucky you didn’t have to front bail money neither of you have, especially now. Instead of spending the weekend in jail, Soonyoung’s punishment is fixing whatever Jeonghan sends his way for the next month free of charge but it’s not enough, not even close.
The kill shot bubbles on the tip of your tongue but that last bit of self control keeps it under lock and key. This isn’t how you thought you’d tell him, nowhere close to the way the evening happened in your head before you saw that picture. You wanted to surprise him. Watch the way the news sunk in slowly then all at once. You remember the test you left on the kitchen counter for him to find when he got home before everything went to shit. The ember of rage flairs back to life.
“You wanna race so bad, go fetch!” You don’t think as you rip the keys to that cursed bike from his hands and chuck them out the window into the grassy median, gone in a flash. It’s only a temporary solution but it feels good. It’s the next best thing to taking a bat to his bike until there’s nothing salvageable.
Soonyoung sputters. “Are you crazy?” 
Maybe. You’re absolutely toeing the line of unhinged. The car skids to a stop, tires burning against the asphalt. Thankfully the road is clear of any traffic.
“Get out,” you demand.
“What?”
“Get out. Get out, get out, get out!” You repeat the words over and over until he does what you tell him to. You feel the suffocating tightness in your chest signaling tears are seconds away. 
“Baby, let's talk about this,” Soonyoung begs. He tries to reach through the window, he knows your weak spots too well. You snatch your hand away before he can take advantage.
“You can have this back!” You launch the diamond band right at his chest before taking off.
You get back home on autopilot. There are red lights and stop signs and other traffic laws you can’t remember if you followed but you’re in the driveway and barreling up the porch with shaky breaths. Guilt doesn’t cross your mind for a second. Soonyoung didn’t feel guilty for racing like a dumbass until he got caught, so why should you feel guilty for letting him deal with the consequences? 
The urge to do something mean, not just mean but hurtful with the intent of seeing Soonyoung sick to his stomach, rears its head. If that’s what you wanted then mission accomplished. He saved for a year to buy that ring and you threw it in his face like it was nothing but cheap plastic. The ire from earlier rushes out of you like a deflating balloon. Your fingers itch for a cigarette but unlike your now ex fiance, you have to cut out all your vices. There’s no relief in pacing back and forth. There won’t be any solace inside the house either. You’re so tired. All the highs and lows of the day have drained you of everything. You don’t want to be mad or sad or anything anymore. You just want to go to bed and sleep off the entire day. 
You want to leave but you don’t. You want to yell some more but Soonyoung will be at least another hour. There’s nothing to anxiously clean while waiting so you water the crispy plants on the porch while you wait.
Jeonghan’s cruiser pulls into his driveway across the street thirty minutes later. Still no sign of Soonyoung, not a missed call or text. You think to worry but he gets out of Jeonghan’s passenger seat and trudges your way.
He looks angry and tired. But your swollen eyes and splotchy face melts the furrow in his brows.
“I’m—”
You silence him with a blast from the water hose. Soonyoung takes his punishment like a man, standing completely still while you douse him from head to toe. 
“I deserve that. Please, just listen to me—” He’s silent with another stream aimed at his chest. You feel some validation seeing him embody the way you feel: pathetic. 
“Will you put the hose down so we can talk about this?”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” you huff, dropping the hose for him to clean up.
“Then I’ll talk and you listen.”
“No.” You head towards the door with no intention of letting Soonyoung inside. “Go sleep at Jeonghan’s, I don’t wanna be around you right now.”
“He already told me no.”
Jeonghan would take mercy on Soonyoung in this state; soaked to the bone with your engagement ring in his pocket.
You turn to face him. “I want you to get rid of your bike.”
Soonyoung stays at the foot of the stairs leading up the porch. He knows how you feel and he has the sense to look ashamed.
“You want me to sell Tammy?” he asks.
“I want Tammy to fall off a cliff into the abyss but that’s obviously not going to happen,” you seethe, blinking away more frustrated tears.
“I have a lot of good memories with Tammy.”
“What? The first time you got arrested? Or the time you fell off and broke your arm? Oh, I know! When you ended up in a ditch?”
“The time I asked you to be my girlfriend. And the time I won enough money to help put a down payment on the house. When—“
“It’s me or her.”
Does it feel juvenile giving your fiance an ultimatum between you and a godforsaken bike? Absolutely. But you’ve got a kid to think about now and the thought of Soonyoung missing their life because he’s too busy chasing the rush makes you sick.
“It’s you.” Soonyoung says it with finality but you don’t believe him.
“Then prove it.”
“I’ll do anything.”
“Sell it. First thing tomorrow morning.”
He laughs bitterly. “I’m not selling my bike.”
“Then I’ll be sure to tell your kid their dad is a fucking loser.” 
He blinks like the words don’t fully set in but your back is already to him by the time they do. Locked inside the house, you lean back against the door. You don’t want him to hear the crack of breath in your throat breaking into hot, wet tears. 
“What do you mean my kid?” Soonyoung’s panicked voice comes through the door. “YN! Open the door!”
“Go away.”
His whispered curses slip through the door while he scrambles for the spare key hidden in the potted plant by the door. If you really wanted him locked out, you would’ve remembered to move it before he got home. Part of you does want him stuck as far away as possible. You don’t want to face him because you know he’ll kiss your tears away and that’s all you want right now. You want him to hold you, promise you everything will be okay.
The lock of the bedroom door clicks into place right as Soonyoung gets the front door open. You hear him downstairs, looking for where you’re hidden. You can plot his course in your head: straight through the living into the kitchen where one of the positive tests waits to greet him on the counter, then he comes racing up the stairs and outside the door.
He twists the doorknob with no success. “YN.”
“Go away,” you sniffle into the pillow. His pillow. You’re on his side of the bed, in one of his old shirts because even if you wish you hated him.  
A dull thud against the door and a sigh signals his departure. You hear him shuffling back downstairs, but the sound of the front door never comes. The fatigue of the day takes over swiftly. Surrounded by the comforting smell of Soonyoung, you fall asleep until the smell of food wafts up through the vents. Not burnt but if Soonyoung is in the kitchen then it’s only a matter of time.
You creep down the stairs, careful to stay quiet so you can sneak back up without getting caught. Soonyoung’s body blocks whatever he’s organizing on the counter but you tell it’s a bribe from the sight of take out bags piled in the trash.
“What’s that?”
“Dinner. Do you want some?”
He’s got an entire pizza with garlic knots and cinnamon twists laid out like a feast. You watch him pretend to be nonchalant but he’s glued to your every move as you approach the counter and shove an entire garlic knot into your mouth, chewing with enough force to warn you haven’t forgiven him yet even though you're close to it. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
“Then we won’t talk,” he sighs into the base of your skull, fingers edging beneath your shirt for the comforting warmth of skin on skin. 
“Don’t,” you say, but lean back into the warmth of his body despite yourself.
“I’m sorry.”
Sure he is. You know he means it. Soonyoung is always sorry but it doesn’t stop him from being a dumbass. But he’s your dumbass no matter how many fights you have.
He lets you eat, content to hide his face in your shoulder and his fingers warm against the waistband of your sweatpants. You hate crying and you hate crying in front of him – because of him – even more. The heavy silence of the kitchen and the love of your life clinging onto you like his life depends on it brings a fresh prick of tears. Once you start, you can’t stop. The tears keep coming as Soonyong maneuvers your face into his chest. His new, clean shirt turns into your tissue. You fall into him without hesitation.
“Are you really…” he asks quietly, dropping kiss after kiss against your hair while you wring out like a sponge. 
“Do you think I’d lie to make you feel bad?”
“No. I just—fuck. You’re pregnant.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“How do you feel?”
You blow your nose into his neck. “Like I wanna punch my kid’s dad in the nuts.”
“He probably deserves that.”
“He definitely does.”
“And he deserves to sleep outside.”
“Yep,” you nod.
“But you still love him?”
“Of course I do, you big idiot,” you sigh, leaning back to look at him. Mistake. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” His brow presses to yours, face rounded out, soft cheeks that make you want to scream. Brown eyes shine beneath his lashes. Soonyoung knows exactly what he’s doing. 
“I’m still mad at you.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
You don’t but things would be a lot easier if you did.
Soonyoung takes the silence as an admission, and when you don’t object he falls to his knees, pulls your shirt out of the way and presses his face into your stomach. “We should name it Donatello.”
“No.”
“Leonardo.”
“No,” you giggle despite yourself.
“Raphael.”
“You are not naming our baby after a Ninja Turtle.”
“Mojo Jojo Jojo.”
“No.”
“Thanos.”
“Stop!”
“You’re laughing?” Soonyoung gasps, rushing to his feet to pin your squirmy body between him and the counter’s edge. “I’m trying to have a very serious conversation and you’re laughing?”
“You’re an idiot.”
“And you love me.”
You nod, hiding back into his chest where it’s safe. “Yeah, I love you.”
The silence marinates between you. 
“I’ll sell the bike, promise.”
“You’re not the best at keeping promises.”
“This time is different.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want our kid to grow up thinking their dad doesn’t worship the ground their mom walks on. Because I know she’s way too good for me and I’m lucky to have her.”
“I’m not too good for you, I hate when you say that.”
“You called me a loser.”
“I said you acted like a loser and I won’t take that back.” 
He looks away. “That’s fair.”
The icy wall of hurt freezes back up but you’re too tired to drag on the fight any longer. “When I found out my reaction wasn’t ’oh he’s being stupid.’ It was ‘how would I tell our kid their dad missed their birthday because he got himself locked up.’ That’s all I could think about. Explaining to our kid over and over why you’re never there.”
The words rest like a wet blanket over his flame of excitement. He doesn’t want to be that kind of dad; the one who misses their child’s life for something as stupid as street racing. Who leaves you to pick up a broken heart time and time again, two broken hearts.
You’re at arms length, Soonyoung examining you like a puzzle he can’t figure out but wants to try anyway. You hate when he looks at you like that. Like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen and he can’t quite believe you’re real. “You’re gonna be a great mom.”
“Shut up.” You hide the blush staining across your cheeks with another slice of pizza. 
“You are.”
“Well,” you swallow. “I need you to be a good dad. And if you can’t then I’m not afraid to do it by myself.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
“Can I talk to it?”
“If you want to.” You don’t tell him that the thing growing in your womb curiously of him is the size of a pea and doesn’t have a face, let alone ears. You want to hear what his first words as a dad are.
He rucks your shirt up higher until it’s bunched beneath your breast, stomach on full display for him to bury his face into. 
“Hi. I’m your dad,” he starts timidly. You bite back a smile at his earnestness. “I don’t usually make your mom this angry. Usually, she’s pretty happy with me.” His lips brush your stomach with each word, tickling them into your skin. “I hope you take after her. She’s smart, and she’s pretty. God, she’s so pretty. I remember the first time I saw your mom and I knew I wanted to marry her.”
You snort. “You did not.”
“Yes, I did,” he corrects. “We were at this bar. You’re not allowed to go there. Ever. Maybe when you’re thirty or I’m dead. But I remember seeing her when she walked in and I thought ‘that is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and if she talks to me, I’ll throw up.’ I still feel like that sometimes. Even when she’s mad at me. And then when I got the courage to talk to her, I didn’t throw up because your old man is cool.”
Your heart swells too big for your chest. The night you met him wasn’t the stuff of fairytales. You saw him across the bar, all blonde hair and ruby cheeks as he screamed with his friends. He did throw up the first time you talked to him. After an hour of riding him until it hurt, you melted boneless in his lap and he snuck away to the bathroom to toss the used condom. You faked asleep as he emptied his guts into the toilet bowl before crawling back to bed and begging for cuddles. Pure romance.
“So cool,” you tease.
Soonyoung laces your fingers together, nipping at your fingertips in protest. “Your mom is mean to me but it’s okay because I love her. You’ll love her too. I just hope you’ll love me.”
You fight the urge to cry, only a single tear streaking down your cheek before stopping. “They’ll love you.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so.”
“How?”
“Because I love you and I’m very smart. Remember?”
“I did say that, didn't I?”
You hum in agreement, pulling him up your body to nudge his nose along yours. 
“I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you.” You let him shower you in gentle touches, his hands smoothing up your sides. Soonyoung traps you between his body and the counter, his lips sweeping over your chin, your jaw, your covered chest. That’s when you feel it. “What are you doing?”
“Apologizing.”
“Feels a lot like your penis to me.”
“That’s a part of the apology,” he whispers, the weight of his cocky heavy against your thigh, harder with each controlled grind. “Can’t believe I knocked you up and I never even came inside of you.”
“I can. You talk about kids so much I bet you manifested this.”
“You want it though, right?”
“Yeah.”
You’re lifted onto the countertop, legs spread around his hips. He’s got one hand wedge between your ass and panties to keep you close. “Do you think I’ll be a good dad?”
Not the conversation you thought would happen while you’re tugging his shirt off and working at the tie in his pajamas pants but you humor him.
“I think you’ll be a great dad.” You kiss him gently. His lips, his nose, his cheeks that round in your favorite smile. “If you stop getting arrested. How are you gonna ground Michaelangelo if you keep getting in trouble too?”
“She’s gonna be too smart for that. Just like her mom.”
“Oh, it’s a she now?”
“I’ve got a feeling.” He nips at your throat, a sweet flick of his tongue to soothe the sting. “Back to me coming inside you.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Gonna take it all for me?”
Your chin tips back to provide more skin for Soonyoung to mark up. “Want it.”
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he heaves. You’re trapped between a hand against the crotch of your panties and one pawing at your ass like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.
“Take your pants off.”
An amused breath warms your throat. “Someone’s bossy”
“Yeah, and I’m telling you to take your pants off.”
“Yes, ma’am.” 
Shirt gone, sweats pooled around his ankles, Soonyoung stands in nothing but a pair of tenting briefs and the thin chain you gifted him a week after he placed that band on your ring finger.
“Wow, who knew you'd be such a DILF.”
His cheeks tinged pink from the complement. “I’ve been a dad for five minutes and you’re already trying to hit on me.”
“We’re engaged, doofus.”
“Speaking of.” He snatches his pants off the floor, digging through the pockets until a familiar ring appears. “Don’t take this off again.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
He catches your chin between his fingers, pining you in his gaze. “I don’t care how angry you are with me. When I asked you to marry me, I meant forever.”
You can count on one hand the number of times he’s used that tone of voice with you. Soonyoung doesn't get angry often; at least, not with you. The last time he talked to you like this was when you wandered on the wrong side of town late at night, alone and drunk without a way home. You were pissed about a grade and wanted to do something reckless like every other kid at your university got to. Luckily, Soonyoung found you before trouble could. He used the same tone to chastise you for an hour about how stupid you’d been. 
But he isn’t just mad at your antics. He’s scared too. You look at him — really look at him for the first time since this morning when you kissed him goodbye before work. Red eyes, lip bruised, not from kisses but the way he chews it when he’s anxious.
“I’m sorry.” You pull him back, arms wrapped so tightly around his torso he probably can’t breathe and you both like the certainty of it. The tension in his shoulders softens like candle wax but he doesn’t let go. 
There’s still the matter of damp underwear and his boner. You want him, the gnawing aching way you always want him. Between your legs, stroking your sensitive spots to life over and over again until you beg for mercy he’s too eager to deny.
You nose against his cheek, adoring kiss after kiss against his skin until mouths meet. Soonyoung slips his tongue between the seam of your lips. You feel it the way down to your toes. On instinct, your hand trickles down his front, wedged tight between your bodies to paw at the fabric. A few dry jerks is all it takes for him to unravel.
“Wait,” Soonyoung gasps, hips rutting into the tight squeeze.
He keens with another tug, neck flushing a pretty shade of pink. The linoleum bites into your knees before you mouth over his underwear for a taste of what's to come. You suck the head through his underwear before leaning back to tease him with a kiss.
“Bedroom.”
“Didn’t think I’d see the day you’d refuse a kitchen blowjob,” you snicker.
Soonyoung doesn’t laugh. He pulls you back up into a bruising kiss, biting at your lip until you’re sure it’s bruised. His hand gropes down your ass, fingers tight to your entrance from behind. Whatever he wants like this you’ll agree to.
“Want you on my mouth.”
You’d kneel over his face right here on the kitchen floor if he wanted. But knowing your fiance, his sights are glued to whatever fantasies boil beneath that blond hair of his. 
You race up the stairs, Soonyoung hands heavy on your sides. His thumbs press into the bare curve of your hips. Your clothes fall until just your underwear remains. You want to turn around and mount him on the steps but the second floor landing is close enough you don’t get a chance. 
Soonyoung flicks all the bedroom lights on, eager to see every part of you as you crawl up the bed on all fours in nothing but your underwear. A few years ago you wouldn’t dream of sex with a lamp on let alone the overhead light but years of his utter devotion to your body and wanting to watch you get off like it’s his very own miracle gave you confidence. He looks ready to jump out of his own skin at the doorway. You glance over back and arch your spine a little more, ass higher in the air for his viewing. You might just finger yourself like this to see him suffer. You’ve done it before.
You stretch out, naked chest on display. “Are you coming?”
“Fuck yeah, I am.” Unconsciously, he palms his cock and approaches the side of the bed, pulling you into a kiss with a heavy lick of his tongue.
It doesn’t take much to drag him on top of you, dick hot to your thigh, perfect to rut against. There’s too much Soonyoung to think of anything else. His hands pinning you in place, his breath fanning across your chest as he suckles across the slope of your breast, thighs surging between yours in a dry hump you can’t help but beg for more of. His hips stutter when you do.
He follows the same playbook you did earlier; fingers trailing to the wet patch of your wants, mouth following closely. You’re in for a treat when he’s on his knees like this. He wants to tease you the way you did him but Soonyoung isn’t committed to denying you anything, he wants to rake you over hot coals by giving too much. 
Your hands eagerly hook beneath your knees, legs spread wide before him like a feast..
“Taste so good,” he rasps with a soft suck at your clit. “You’re so hot.”
Even with the barrier of your underwear each lick lights you on fire. Soonyoung moans a lewd melody, lost in his own paradise. Your thighs twitch with each gentle prod at your entrance, folded away by his shoulders so he can touch as much as he wants.
The promise from earlier lights up your brain. You twist a tight grip in his hair, pulling hard enough to detach him from your body. Lips wet, eyes blown, Soonyoung tries to dive back down until another twist of your nails makes him wince.
“Call Jeonghan.”
His mouth may be gone but his fingers circle your clit in the way that makes you whine. “What?”
“Call. Him,” you command. 
You snatch your phone from the end table, forcing it into Soonyoung’s grasp. He still doesn’t understand what you’ve asked.
“Sell him the bike right now.”
“Now?” He looks down at your pussy still on display, underwear soaked in spit and arousal.
You nod. Soonyoung knows better than to argue. He’s back in your good graces but only just, the promise of shipping that infernal bike off to someone else keeping him afloat. 
Your body throbs for release, for his mouth to go back to work instead of whispering into the phone when Jeonghan answers. 
“Two grand? Bullshit! There's at least…” he trails off.
You’re not going to stop just because he’s busy. You grab your breasts, taunt nipples visible between your fingers. Clad in a pair of sticky panties and nothing else, you’ve reduced him into a stuttering mess. Any other night he’d already be smothering himself in the wetness. You can see the urge in his gaze as he swallows loudly.
“Four,” Soonyoung counters. His face twists between wanting to argue with the neighbor, brows furrowed, lips in a heavy pout, and watch in awe as you suck on your own fingers before pinching at your chest again.
You’ve got him distracted with a hand between your legs, pushing your underwear out of the way to flash him exactly what he’s earning. Flushed and wet, the smell of sex hangs in the air.
“Thirty-five,” his voice cracks as you spread your legs wider, pulling his hand right where it belongs.
Soonyoung bats your hands away, fingers twisting through your heat. A gentle prod at your entrance like he hasn’t mastered your pussy enough to make you stupid and strung out with a few touches. There’s no way Jeonghan can’t hear every pleased sigh, the wet noise echoing from your pussy, the annoyance in Soonyoung’s voice as they barter back and forth. 
Soonyoung leans over and spits where his fingers disappear, making you jolt with the force as he does it again. You nearly ask him to spit in your mouth just to see his eyes bulge but the opportunity disappears with the sound of Jeonghan’s cackle through the line.
“Fine, three. I’ll give you the keys tomorrow.” He ends the call, forces your hand out of the way, and eagerly makes up for the minutes lost.
Both of your hands find the soft strands of his hair to hold him in place. Your feet plant on the bed beside his wide shoulders, allowing you to hump his face pathetically only to be welcomed with a grunt. The rip of fabric registers right before what was once your underwear is left stretched across the middle of your thigh. 
“S-shit, don’t stop.”
His fingers spread for his tongue to lick between. You punish him for such a dirty move with a harsh pull of his hair that he loves more than anything. Soonyoung does what he does best: groveling for your forgiveness. You’ll give it to him like always. But you both want him to work for it; it’s better when he does. 
He spreads your legs wider, gives a pleased grunt when you hold him in place and grind into his mouth. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant; vision blurry, body on fire.
Soonyoung moans into the sloppy mess of your pussy, sucking your clit between his lips, wedging another finger between the two already ruining you. 
“Oh god—there.”
Your thighs crush his head but he forces them up and open, pinned in place. The tender glow of the end escalates into a scalding burn as it rips through every muscle. You clench so tight around his fingers he can’t move them more than a tight curl. When you cry at the overstimulation he finally rests.
“Did you just—”
Pins and needles ripple through your muscles and all you can do is nod. Once the initial shock fades, there’s a smug twitch of his lips. He catches your foot and pins it before you can kick him.
“Shut up.”
“Have I told you how much I think about you being pregnant?” he asks, watching your every move.
You shake your head. His fingers keep working in gentle strokes, the wet noises quieter than before but loud in your ears. 
“It’s a lot,” he grunts. “Fuck, you’re gonna be so sexy.”
“I’m not already?” you half laugh, half gasp. The spark of arousal already demands more so you rock your hips down despite the sensitivity.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“But I’m not sexy?”
“Don’t pick an argument with me right now, please,” Soonyoung begs. 
“Why?”
“Because I’m thinking about coming in you until you can’t take anymore.”
“Then I’ll be sexy?” you goad.
“You’ve always been sexy.” He punctuates the compliment with a kiss to your left hip bone. “Beautiful.” Another on your right. “Gorgeous.” One on the plush of your thigh. “I love you.”
He folds you in half, knees to chest like you possess the flexibility to stay there, ankles cuffed in his hand, lips hot on the back of your thigh. 
“We should fuck on the bike one more time,” you tease. 
“You want me to defile the mother of my child on a motorcycle?”
You moan at his words. You want him to come wherever he wants, as many times as he can. Until he can’t anymore. To feel nasty and used however he sees fit. You want him on top of you, behind you, bending you over every surface he can until you’re shaking.
“You’re about to defile me right here. W-what’s the difference?”
Soonyoung curls the fingers inside you tight, eyes glued to the way you heave before answering. He fucks into that spot that makes you his puppet and all you want is to ruin him the same way he ruins you with the slightest touch. “You said I should stop doing things that’ll get me arrested.”
You choke on another tease as he sucks on your clit, tongue coaxing pathetic sighs right out of your lungs. He could do this all night. He’d be happy to. Soonyoung grips you tighter as you squirm away. It’s too much. He knows it and that’s why he loves it so much, knowing he can make you cum hard enough to scream.
“Are the cameras still broken at the garage?”
“Yeah,” he grunts, already knowing exactly what you’re thinking.
“Then you can defile me at your place of business, over the bike. Just like old times.”
“No condoms.”
“How else are you gonna stuff me full of cum?”
Soonyoung groans, pushing your legs wider as his hips rut into the mattress. “Wanna come inside you.”
“Then get up here and do it.”
You’re soaked between the legs, sensitive and swollen. Soonyoung settles into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing his cock into the wet mess of spit and arousal. Your body acts of instinct, hips tilting until he slips between your walls.
“Oh my god.” He laps at the swell of your breast. “‘S okay?”
“Yeah, they don’t hurt yet.”
The sharp edge of his teeth leaves lines across your skin while he sucks at your chest until your spine breaks in half. His fingers keep firm pressure against your clit. Sloppy but enough to keep you pulled taunt. You’ll come a second time if he keeps it up.
“Oh my god,” you echo. 
Soonyoung likes to fuck hard. Hard enough you feel like all your seams are splitting, just shy of shattering your limit. Now’s no different but there's a new edge of caution. Even with his hips flat, inside you until nothing is left to give, he tangles your fingers together and pins them over head in the pillows.
You push your body against his, needy and pliant. Blind want acting as a guide, your ankles lock around his waist. It feels so much better than all the other times he’s fucked you like this; knowing the risk of him coming inside no longer counts and he can do it as many times as you ask. 
The slap of your skin against his fills the room, grunts and pathetic whines passing between mouths with narrowed vision. Nails biting into his shoulders, you flutter tight, trying to pull Soonyoung deeper even if he’s snug to the hilt. Stretched full beyond belief.
“More,” you beg. Frantic. Needy. All those feelings Soonyoung can incite with the barest of touches and a look.
He rises back on his hands, lighting up with each pathetic whimper of his name. “More what?”
If you had the brain power you’d knock the stupid smirk off his face. “Fuck me.”
“I am,” Soonyoung taunts.
“Breed me.”
“Already h-have.” Soonyoung looks like he wants to laugh but he sinks as much weight as he can into his hips, rhythm clumsy but it’s so good you don’t care. “Fuck, such a good girl. Aren’t you?”
You clench around him. He isn’t the most inspired with dirty talk but he knows your buttons, loves to press on your praise kink when you least expect it. 
“Say it.”
“I-I’m,” you stutter from his fingers finding your raw clit. “I’m your good girl.”
“My pretty little wife,” Soonyoung gasps. “Perfect.”
Every bit of praise adds a drop in the bucket, chest tightening until it explodes without permission; shredding through your veins. Your teeth sink into his shoulder. Hard enough to bruise as you cry, “Soonyoung.”
He doesn’t stop for your orgasm, not for a second. You asked him to breed you and it’s his sole purpose until you’re both satisfied. “G-gonna come.”
“Want it, want you to come in me,” you sob.
Soonyoung grabs for your hair, a gentle tug with enough force your eyes open to find his.
“Want it?” he pants, tilting your hips to fuck deeper. You nod with limited room thanks to his grip. “Then take it.”
The sticky heat you’re accustomed to on your skin stains your insides for the first time. There’s no way you can go back. Not after knowing how right it feels to have him fill you. You shiver beneath his weight, nerves twitching from the idea of him doing it again. Immediately.
“Love you, love you, love you…” Soonyoung chants into your skin, lips slipping over your throat with each breathless gasp.
You roll down into the nasty feel of cum and cock, the minor relief not nearly enough. Not with the idea of sucking the combined taste off him rearing its head. But Soonyoung collapses with a point flex of his thighs to stop your motions.
“Holy fuck,” he shudders. “If you let me do that sooner, we’d have ten kids by now.”
You’re flustered at the idea. “Do you think my vagina is a baby rocket launcher?”
“It’s definitely something.”
“How romantic,” you snort. “Give it a few months and I’ll be so hormonal you won’t touch me with a ten foot pole.”
“Is that what you think?” he hums, face still hidden in your neck like he’s too exhausted to move except to lap at the dip in your throat. A subtle grind reminds you of his cock still wedge in your guts, stiff like he didn’t come hard enough to see stars.
It’s hard to think that after so many years together, this is the biggest love rush you’ve ever experienced. The urge to keep him wrapped in your arms for as long as possible brings tears to your eyes. 
Soonyoung pops over your face after the first sniffle, terrified. “Are you crying?”
“No.” You swipe at the tears. “Shut up.”
“Aw, baby,” he coos, failing to hide his amusement.  
“I’m carrying your child, sorry my hormones are all over the place.” You bat his hand away unsuccessfully, leaning your cheek into the comforting warmth of his palm.  “We’re ready for this?”
“I mean, I was planning to knock you up on our honeymoon anyway,” he shrugs, lips soft on your hairline. “Do you have any more of those tests?”
“Why?”
“I wanna see what’d happen if I pee on one.”
“Nothing.” You push him off, rolling onto hands and knees with your ass in the air, face buried in the pillows. “Now, fuck me again.”
Soonyoung pushes the head of his cock through the mess of cum leaking out before sinking back inside with a grunt. “Yes, ma’am.”
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voguesabnxrmal · 2 days ago
Text
𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓, 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖
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Pairing ᯓ Joe Burrow x Reader
Warnings ᯓ smut, nsfw themes, I mean it’s an NSFW alphabet what else could it mean
Authors note ᯓ Comment down below, or inbox me if you want on my taglist!
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a- aftercare (what they’re like after the act). ᯓ Joe Burrow, no matter what it is or what the circumstances are, will always be attentive to you after sex. He’s the type to do whatever you want him to do after you get done. Want to take a bath? He’s gonna run it for you. Want a cold glass of water? He’s going downstairs to get it for you (with extra ice). You just want to sleep? He will gladly go get you your favorite pajamas out of the drawer and change you himself into them and then cuddle you after. He’s also the type to want to take every precaution necessary, making sure you do the right steps after to prevent anything.
b-body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers). ᯓ Joe just gives he’s a tit guy vibes. Although, he loves your beauty and your facial features and all of you, he can never turn up an opportunity to do anything with your tits. Anytime you guys go to sleep at night, or just nap or lay down in general, Joe is going to put his head in the groove of your tits. Anything to do with your tits sexually too. Your tits are his favorite things to tend to during sex.
ᯓ His favorite body parts of his own has to be his muscles on anywhere of him, not necessarily a body part but that has to be his main focus (and yours too). He thrives off of getting stronger and better mostly for football, but he also knows you love to grip on his muscles during when you’re getting down and dirty. So, he also does it in favor of you (wink wink)
c-cum (anything that has to do with it). ᯓ Joe will do anything he can to paint you white. If you have sex with Joe 9/10 he’s going to creampie you. More specifically he loves giving you a facial. He’s always wanting you to suck his dick so he can see your pretty face covered in his cum. He loves to cum in you too, as many times as he can until you’re full and his cum is just gushing out of you.
d-dirty secret (pretty self explanatory). ᯓ Not really a dirty secret for your behalf, but definitely for others. Joe definitely keeps a naughty picture in his wallet, and in his locker at the Bengals facility. If anyone found it he knows his dirty little secret of that naughty polaroid picture with your dick in his mouth and his cum leaking out the corner of your mouth, would come out.
e-experience (do they know what they’re doing). ᯓ I feel like Joe doesn’t have too many bodies (although I feel like he had a little hoe phase during LSU), But he definitely knows how to please a girl. He knows the sweet spots on a girl, where the clit is, what he’s trying to reach during sex, knows the difference between “faster” & “slower”. Overall, he definitely knows how to get the job done.
f-favorite position. ᯓ Joes favorite position really just depends on his mood. If he wants to make love to you he will put you in missionary where he can see your pretty little face as he pleases you and just loves on you. But if he’s fucking you he will put you face down ass up arched into him with no shame making sure you can’t run from him and just be a good girl and take it.
g-goofy (how serious are they). ᯓ Joe is definitely a serious person during sex. He wants to get down to business and make you feel good and do whatever you want him to do that gets you to cum, but I also feel like if something funny happens like someone gets a cramp, or it’s just a moment of opportunity, Joe will crack a joke and laugh with you.
h-hair (grooming habits). ᯓ Joe is the type of person to keep himself clean. He doesn’t like a bush, but he doesn’t like it bald. He keeps it very well trimmed and cleaned up to where it doesn’t bother him.
i-intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty). ᯓ Joe is a very romantic guy in the bed I feel like. He mostly just wants to focus on you and making you feel good, making sure you know how much he loves you and adores you. But also, if Joe loses a game, or is just having a bad night, he won’t hesitate to push your limits and do what he says and take it how he wants you to take it.
j-jack off (do they masturbate and how often). ᯓ joe isn’t one to typically masturbate. He has a girl why should he have to? But being A professional Football Player there is times where you might not go with him to games, or events depending on circumstances. So, for those specific moments Joe definitely has videos and pictures of you safely hidden in his phone to where he can get off to you if he needs to while he doesn’t have access to you. If you’re lucky too, you will be getting a phone call at night with a horny Joe with his cock in his hand just waiting for you to reciprocate his actions on a FaceTime call with him.
k-kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual). ᯓ Joe in bed is mostly a soft lovey guy. Although, there’s a side of Joe where he will ask you to slap him while you ride him. Joe also loves to make you beg and cry and overstimulate you to a point where you’re trying to run from his cock tell him you can’t take it anymore. He’s also a slut for facefucking, he loves to see pretty tears run down your cheeks while he abuses the back of your throat with his thick long cock.
l-location (where they like to get it on). ᯓ Joes a classic guy. If he has to take you anywhere his first choice would be your guys bed. Don’t let that fool you though. Joe is a little mischievous guy sometimes, possibly in the parking lot of paycor stadium has seen a lot of stuff that parking lot shouldn’t have saw!
m-motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons). ᯓ Joe loves a good kiss. Anywhere. His neck? He’s going to want to snatch you up if you kiss all over his neck and suck on his adam’s apple. He gets tingly and starts to get needy if you kiss down his body too, if you kiss from the cheek all the way down to the waist band of his pants, more than likely that night for you in going to end up with joes cock down your throat.
n-no (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do). ᯓ Simple enough, Joe won’t do anything that could hurt you. Before he even tries anything new with you he will get the okay with you. He wants to make sure you are okay with anything that he wants to do, and will ask you multiple times if you’re sure you want to do that in bed if you propose an idea. Joe is mostly down for anything, but one thing he draws the line for is anything that will cause you any sort of pain.
o-oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are). ᯓ Honestly, I feel like Joe isn’t much of a munch. He will eat if you want him to and for foreplay, but he’s mostly a receiver. He loves getting head from you after a long day, he loves feeling your warm mouth wrapped around his cock.
ᯓ But when Joe does munch, He definitely knows how to use his tongue. He knows how to work your clit with just the right pressure and speed, making you finish all over his tongue.
p-pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed). ᯓ Joe isn’t a very fast paced guy during sex, he likes to take his time with you and focus on your pleasure and the build up of it rather then get straight to the point.
ᯓ He’s also the type of person to edge himself and stop to where he doesn’t finish immediately. So he doesn’t last super long, but he also doesn’t finish super early. He’s rather build up his orgasm and rather make you finish first or finish at the same time.
q-quickie (do they prefer fast and hard). ᯓ Joe likes to go fast and hard sometimes, especially if he’s rushing to be somewhere, or if you want to give him some good luck little something something before a game, but mostly he’s a “I want to fuck you for hours and make love to you” type of guy.
r-risk (do they like to try new things). ᯓ Joe DEFINITELY like to try new things. He doesn’t want your sex life to be boring. So you both have a mutual agreement if you think of something to tell the other and see if they’d be down, and 9/10 it’s usually agreed upon. In fact, Joe even discovered one of his favorite things ever upon trying out something new…like sliding his dick between your tits and getting his dick jerked from your tits while the head of his cock is getting slapped against your tongue every time he thrust between the cleavage of your tits.
s-stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts). ᯓ Joe is a football player. He has GODLY stamina. Joe can go till the point he puts you to sleep. He will keep going until you’re begging no more and you can’t take it you’re so tired. One thing about this man he will never pass up the opportunity to get down and dirty with you. And best believe when you’re having sex with joe, you know it’s going to last atleast half an hour a round no matter how many times he makes you cum.
t-toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers). ᯓ Joe isn’t really team sex toys. You have him why else would you need a sex toy? He understands though that he’s a professional football player and he’s gone sometimes. So he knows you have a vibrator in your draw if you even need it (you usually don’t). So unless he’s there there isn’t any reason for you to have to use a lame toy, he has a dick, tongue, fingers, abs, thighs? What else could you possibly need?
u-unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves). ᯓ Joe isn’t really much of a teaser. Intentionally atleast. He knows the pictures the Bengals media pages post are more than enough to get you hot and bothered waiting from him to come home from wherever he’s at to take care of that needy pussy. Although, He doesn’t mind you teasing him though. He loves to see you in a tight little skirt or top with nothing else than being able to imagine about taking it off of you. He loves seeing you tease him by walking around the house half naked in only one of his shirts or jerseys and one of his favorite thongs on underneath. He loves for you to back up into him or give him suggestive touches and then act like you don’t know what you’re doing, just so he can take care of you later with all the built up suspense.
v-volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk). ᯓ Joe isn’t the loudest in the bedroom, that’s you. But he does make grunting sounds and breathy moans. He also is the biggest dirty talker known to man, whispering the dirtiest stuff in your ear about how good you feel, and what he’s going to do to you.
w-wild card (random headcannon of any sort). ᯓ Joe unironically probably has the biggest breeding kink ever. During sex he’ll be all like; “You’ll look so good all swollen with my baby in you.”, “Cmon mama let me make a mini bengal for you to get all swollen and big with.”, “one baby won’t hurt.”, “can’t wait to fill you full of my cum and give you a baby mama, you want a baby from me? huh?”. Joe wouldn’t mind seeing you walking around all big and pregnant because he knows you got that from him. Only him.
x-x-ray (what’s in the pants). ᯓ Joe is definitely not small, I mean look at him. He probably is walking around with about a 6 or 6.5 in his pants. Which is big, but he also is girthy. He’s more wide around and thick than he is long. All I have to say is poor you.
y-yearning (sexdrive level). ᯓ Joe has about an average sex drive. He gets tired out from doing such hard work during football season mostly all around, so sometimes he isn’t up for sex. But he will make time for it throughout the week. I’d say on an average about 3-4 times a week you guys have sex, minus the occasional handies or oral sex you two have.
z-zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after). ᯓ Joe is definitely one to go to sleep after sex. Because most of the time he’s already sleepy before hand, and two because that’s mostly the activity he finishes to go to bed. He doesn’t go to sleep immediately, but pretty soon after he will, making sure you’re tended and cared for before he drifts off to sleep.
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enhani-ki · 2 days ago
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fuckboy!ni-ki x reader ᡣ𐭩。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, mentions of killing, etc.
read part two here
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✶ fuckboy!ni-ki likes to lie and waste time.
a game player, smooth talker, and a liar when it suited him.
ni-ki knew exactly what to say to get what he wanted. he'd tell a girl she was the only one, that she was special, that he couldn't stop thinking about her, only to turn around and send the same message to someone else.
when he got what he wanted? he gets bored.
it was always the same: a few weeks, maybe a month if they were lucky, then he'd just start pulling away. no more sweet words, no more playful texts, it's dry responses and distance until they finally took the hint.
girls will cry, get angry, some even tried to plot revenge... but ni-ki? he never felt guilty.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki doesn't believe in love.
he won't date and won't do relationships. he wasn't interested doing those late-night calls or good-morning texts, and the thought of commitment made him want to laugh.
he just likes a little flirting, a little fun, love songs, fucking then moving on before things got too serious.
they liked the chase, thinking they could be the one to change him, and the idea of being the exception.
but there are no exceptions. he'd rather catch a body than catch feelings for somebody he barely knows.
ni-ki was always clear about what he wanted, even if they refused to believe him.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki was impatient.
he's leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and tight jaw. his fuck buddy is late and he hates waiting. it's not his style to sit around for anyone.
he sighed, running a hand through his hair. then, he spotted a familiar silhouette approaching.
finally.
and without hesitation, he reached out, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into the shadows.
"you took your sweet time." he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear, whispering. "i should make you pay for making me wait, don't you think?" then ni-ki started talking dirty.
and your body in his grasp stiffened.
ni-ki smirked. he loves it when someone gets shy because of him but something was off.
there's no giggle or eager hands slipping on his body.
only silence.
ni-ki pulled back, his eyes locked on your wide, terrified eyes.
you're a face he had never seen before.
"who the fuck are you?!" he blurted out.
"i- i'm sorry!" you stammered, breathing heavily in shock.
ni-ki's mouth opened to say something but before he could, you ran away, you ran so fast that your belongings spilled onto the floor in your rush to escape.
ni-ki cursed under his breath, running a hand down his face.
fuck.
not only he's not gonna have sex but he also accidentally just harassed a complete stranger.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki got mad, completely ghosting and blocked his fuck buddy's number.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki wasn't the type to dwell on things. if he ever made a mistake, he moved on. simple.
what happened with you? that bothered him.
maybe it was the way your eyes looked at him, it was pure fear, like he was some kind of monster... or maybe it was because he had never been the kind of guy to force himself onto someone.
he's cocky, sure. shameless, absolutely.
but he never needed to resort to shit like that and now, he just left a random girl traumatized.
great.
ni-ki took your abandoned things from his bag, staring at them in irritation. he could've just tossed this somewhere and let you deal with it, but it's the least he could do, right?
he looked for you everywhere and when he finally spotted you walking down the hall, he didn't hesitate.
"hey."
your body stiffened instantly when you saw him, you gulped and turned to leave.
ni-ki rolled his eyes and reached out, catching your wrist before you could escape. "relax," he sighed. "i'm just here to give you these…"
you hesitated but quickly grabbed your things and muttered, "thanks."
he let go but he's also expecting you to run again though he's not letting you off easily.
his fingers wrapped around your wrist again, "i'm not done..." he said. "why are you in such a hurry?"
"i gotta go…"
"oh, really?" ni-ki scoffed but released his grip. "fine. look, i'm sorry about earlier. i thought you were someone else."
"your girlfriend?"
ni-ki chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "no, i don't do girlfriends." he teased but it wasn't meant to joke or seduce. "you forgive me?"
you smiled slightly before nodding but then you tilted your head, curious. "...but why would you say something like that to someone who isn't your girlfriend?"
he smirked and leaned in again, so close you could smell his cologne.
"mind your own business, won't you?" he said and walked away.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki found you at his playground.
parties were all the same. loud music, flashing lights, people pressed up against each other like they forgot what personal space was.
ni-ki was used to it, it's his playground.
he's sitting with his friends, a smirk on his face while some girl clung to his arm, twirling her hair and giggling at everything he said, even though he wasn't even trying to be funny.
"so, ni-ki..." she purred, leaning in close, "when are we getting out of here?"
ni-ki exhaled through his nose, he's not in the mood yet and ready to give a half-assed answer until his eyes flickered to the entrance where you walked in.
huh.
you walked in, looking... insanely good wearing a dress that hugged all the right places. it made ni-ki's fuck boy brain short-circuit for a second.
the girl beside him was still talking, but he wasn't listening. his smirk twitched and his interest became completely derailed.
"wait here..." ni-ki muttered, removing the girl's arms off of him without another word.
she sputtered in protest but ni-ki was already gone, slipping through the crowd, with eyes locked on you.
he "accidentally" bumped into you, almost knocking you off balance. his hands instinctively gripped your waist to steady you.
"wow… you're-"
you covered yourself quickly, your arms crossing over your chest, and sent him a glare before he could even think about finishing that sentence
"what do you want?" you asked, unimpressed.
he blinked, momentarily thrown off.
"nothing." he recovered quickly, slipping his hands back into his pockets.
you sighed. "have you seen my friend, f/n?"
ni-ki shook his head. "i have no idea who that is," he admitted, then quickly added, "i'll help you look."
his hand landed on your shoulder but you instantly shrugged it. ni-ki scoffed at your unfriendly action, "seriously?" he asked, rolling his eyes but followed anyway, trailing beside you like he's trying to find his friend too.
he was enjoying himself, honestly.
his eyes kept drifting to you. the way your hips swayed slightly as you walked, the way your hair swung when you turned your head... it was so distracting and ni-ki found himself grinning.
he wasn't even gonna try to flirt anymore, he was just thrilled to be by your side.
you stopped in a less crowded part of the house, scanning the room, then you were pulling at your dress subtly, adjusting the hem like you're clearly uncomfortable.
ni-ki clicked his tongue "w- why are you wearing that if you're uncomfortable?"
you turned to him sharply, eyes narrowing. "why do you care?!"
"why are you so mad at me?"
"'cause i don't know what you're trying to do."
"i'm not trying do do anything to you!"
you glared at him again, adjusting your dress.
"tch." ni-ki removed his jacket and threw it at your face.
"what the hell-"
ni-ki rolled his eyes, already regretting being nice. "wear that, idiot."
you hesitated.
he sighed and turned away, "do whatever you want."
you slipped the jacket over your shoulders then ni-ki peeked at you from the corner of his eyes where he saw you practically drowning in his jacket. you looked so tiny in it, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling.
you finally spotted your friend near the drinks table, "f/n!" you called out, relieved.
your friend turned with a smile then her eyes immediately widened when she saw who was standing beside you.
"oh. my. God." she gasped, barely even acknowledging you because she's looking at ni-ki.
ni-ki smirked at her reaction, clearly used to it. "hi. what's up?"
you friend actually looked starstruck for a second before shaking herself out of it.
"why are you with him?" she whisper-yelled at you, leaning in like you just brought home a stray cat but the dangerous kind.
"he just helped me find you." you replied, and without another word, you grabbed her arm and practically dragged her toward the exit.
"bye, ni-ki!" your friend waved at him.
ni-ki chuckled, grinning while watching the two of you rush off.
as soon as you and your friend stepped outside, she immediately started her interrogation, eyes gleaming.
"okay," she breathed, grabbing your shoulders. "do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?!"
you groaned. "it's not what you think!"
she gasped, dramatically covering her mouth. "wait… did you do it?"
you blinked. "what do you mean by it?"
she wiggled her eyebrows and giggled, playfully slapping your arm. "you know what I mean~"
you eyes widened in disgust. "i would never do it with anyone!"
she laughed as you pushed her lightly, still giggling like a schoolgirl.
"okay, okay, i believe you..." she teased. "but still, damn. ni-ki even gave you his jacket?"
she said, snatching the sleeve of the jacket and sniffed it.
you grabbed it back.
she gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "it smells expensive… sexy, actually."
you gave her a disgusted look again and tightened the jacket around you, trying to ignore the fact that, yeah, it did smell good.
"don't get so weird about this." you warned.
she only laughed, linking her arm through yours. "now tell me more about you and ni-ki."
"there is no me and ni-ki!"
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki suddenly wants to prove that he wasn't actually the asshole you thought he was but ended messing it up.
he told himself it was over. he gave back your stuff, apologized (which, honestly, he never did for anyone), even gave you his jacket, and that should've been the end of it.
he tried not to be pushy 'cause he knew better now, but he still found ways to be around you. if he saw you at school, he'd just give a casual nod. if you were in the cafeteria, he'd sit nearby, pretending it was a coincidence. and if you caught him looking, you'd glare and he would quickly look away.
he was used to people chasing him, used to girls who always wants something from him, not someone who wanted nothing to do with him. and when you made it clear, he said "you really think the worst of me, huh?"
you crossed your arms. "can you blame me?"
ni-ki huffed a laugh. "i don't even do shit to you."
but then, you might just be playing hard to get, right?
he smirked, grabbing your phone and held it high.
"ni-ki, i swear- give it back!"
you jumped, reaching for it, but he was way taller. he tilted his head, watching you struggle, and then...
fuck it.
because he's ni-ki, he's reckless, stupid and didn't think things through... he kissed you.
it was quick, barely even a brush of lips.
he pulled back, expecting a reaction, but not the one he got.
your face twisted in disbelief before you hit him.
you smacked his chest repeatedly, pushing him, "what is wrong with you?! that was my first kiss, stupid!"
ni-ki's eyes widened. "wait- what? seriously?"
you fought back your tears, shoving him one last time before storming off. "don't talk to me ever again!"
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki is doing something completely out of character.
he didn't plan to kiss you. it just happened like some dumb, impulsive thought he acted on before his brain could catch up.
he wanted to reach out but what the hell was he even supposed to say?
"hey, my bad for stealing your first kiss lol?"
"i didn't think it'd be that big of a deal."
"wait, you really never kissed anyone before?"
shit, no. that was all dumb as hell.
for the next few days, ni-ki is not being himself.
he forgot his usual girls, he hadn't even been with anyone ever since he met you.
"dude, what's up with you?" one of his friends asked.
ni-ki just shrugged, flipping his phone in his hands. "nothing."
you were avoiding him like he was some virus. you look the other way when he walked past or really refusing to even glance in his direction.
so, fine. he swallowed his pride and showed up at your house.
you opened the door, immediately frowning when you saw him. "what do you want?"
ni-ki exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.
"i'm sorry, alright?" he said quickly. "i was being an idiot, i didn't think, and..."
"you're apologizing?"
ni-ki groaned, shoving his hands in his pockets. "yeah..."
you crossed your arms, unimpressed. "took you long enough."
he sighed, stepping closer. "i didn't know it was your first kiss, alright?"
you rolled your eyes, "whatever."
then ni-ki hugged you.
you gasped, trying to make him let go. "what- what are you doing?!"
ni-ki just chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder. "saying sorry?"
"by hugging me?!"
"would you rather i kiss you again?"
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"
he laughed again, pulling back slightly to look at your flustered expression.
you scowled. "you're such a pervert."
his smirk returned, teasing. "you liked being hugged though."
you smacked his chest hard. "GO HOME, NI-KI."
he grinned, backing away "but we're good now, right?"
you didn't answer, just slammed the door in his face.
ni-ki chuckled to himself, breathing in relief as he walked away.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki is trying his best to please you... and hold himself back from being a fuck boy.
ni-ki has a serious problem. these days, he found himself doing things that were completely out of character.
like waiting outside your classroom when he swore he was just going to pass by, remembering your usual order at the café near school and handing it to you in front of everyone like it was no big deal, and making sure you got home safe after study sessions.
he wasn't even trying to get anything out of it because for once in his life, he actually wanted to do things the right way. he wanted to get a girlfr- girl friend. a friend that's a girl. that's all.
totally normal. nothing weird.
but it's so frustrating because you weren't even making it easy for him.
you still roll your eyes at him when he tried to be nice. you still gave him unimpressed looks when he offered to carry your things. and the other day, when he casually said you looked cute, you hit him with a deadpan, "what do you want?"
like, damn. he was actually trying here.
then… you'll also do things that completely messed him up.
your cheeks puff out whenever you concentrate, making him desperately want to bite them.
or how we would notice your tits slightly jiggle and move whenever you're running or simply writing. suddenly, he would have to leave the room for fresh air.
when you got mad at him, all fiery and stubborn, he had the worst urge to just shut you up, not in a way that was appropriate for a friend.
ni-ki groaned, running a hand down his face.
his first thought?
"God, i wanna touch."
his second thought?
"i need help."
you left something at school. suddenly, he showed up at your door, handing your things back along with a bottle of your favorite drink.
you looked at him confused, ni-ki rolled his eyes, pushing the bag into your hands.
"you… bought this for me?"
"don't be weird!" he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "just take it."
you stared at him for a long moment before stepping aside. "you wanna come in?"
ni-ki shook his head, he knew himself. he knew that the second he got too comfortable, his usual instincts would kick in... he would start flirting, the way he always found a way to get what he wanted.
instead of smirking and stepping inside like he usually would, he just shoved his hands in his pockets, exhaling.
"nah," he said. "i'll just see you tomorrow, okay?"
a small smile formed at your lips. "thanks, ni-ki."
he turned away quickly, waving a hand over his shoulder while his heart raced so fast. "welcome."
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki who can't figure out if you're just a damsel in distress or actually bossing him around
ni-ki likes to think he's a pretty capable guy. he's used to girls needing him for things... carrying their bags, opening their drinks, giving them rides home. he didn't mind. it boosted his ego.
but every time you asked for his help, he couldn't tell if you were actually helpless or if you're just treating him like some personal assistant.
you handed him your backpack without a word while texting on your phone.
ni-ki blinked. "uh… am i supposed to carry this?"
"yeah." you replied without even looking at him.
"…please?"
you gave him a look. "i could say please, but you're already holding it."
then later you stared at a vending machine like it had personally offended you.
"what, it didn't give you your snack?"
"no..." you huffed, crossing your arms. "it won't take my bill."
ni-ki sighed, pulling out his own money and sliding in a new bill. the machine beeped, and he pressed your selection.
the the snack dropped, you grabbed it, turned on your heel, and walked away.
the way you pouted when you struggled with something, how your brows furrowed in concentration, the tiny pleased smile you gave when things worked out in your favor... it pleased him too.
so when you showed up next to him one day, shaking your phone with an exaggerated sigh, ni-ki already knew what was coming.
"my phone is dead," you said.
he smiled "finally."
you glared, "give me your charger."
ni-ki scoffed in disbelief. "you don't even pretend to be polite anymore!"
you pouted. "please?"
his eye twitched. you're so annoying. cute but mostly annoying.
ni-ki pulled out his charger and handed it to you. "i swear, don't lose it."
"i never lose things." you said, already plugging it in.
"liar." he shook his head. "you lost your AirPods case last week."
you laughed and waved him off. "that was one time."
ni-ki smiled, he felt that stupid warmth creep up his neck again when he heard your laugh.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki asked you to work out with him.
you regret this.
you had never worked out before but when ni-ki said, "come on, i'll go easy on you." you refused to back down.
big mistake.
now, here you are, struggling to breathe properly while ni-ki, just finished another set of weights, stood there looking like some Greek god.
sweat clung to his skin, his black shirt sticking slightly to his toned torso. his hair was pushed back from his forehead and sharp jawline got even more defined.
you gulped.
then he caught you staring. his lips curled into a grin. "like what you see?"
you quickly looked away. "shut up."
he only laughed.
later, back in your room, you are dying.
your muscles ached in places you didn't even know existed. you lay on your bed, groaning while ni-ki sat next to you, arms crossed.
"you're overreacting." he said.
"you tricked me," you accused. "you said you'd go easy."
"i did!" he defended, snickering.
you groaned again, moving slightly only to wince at the soreness in your legs.
ni-ki smiled. "want a massage?"
you looked at him. "you give massages?"
he smirked. "i'm really good with my hands."
you squinted and he laughed. ni-ki began to straddle your back, hands pressing into your tense shoulders.
the moment he started kneading your muscles, your body melted.
"oh… that's so good…" you whispered, voice airy.
ni-ki chuckled. "i am good, huh?"
"ah, ye- yeah, it feels so good." you mumbled, already slipping into a relaxed haze.
ni-ki's hands stilled for a second.
your voice sounded… weirdly suggestive.
he bit back a laugh. he knew you were just tired, but hearing you say that in such a soft, breathy tone? hmm.
he kept massaging, feeling the tension slowly leave your body. it wasn't long before your breathing evened out.
"…did you just fall asleep?" he muttered.
silence.
ni-ki shook his head, you looked so peaceful, face slightly turned to the side, lips parted slightly.
his eyes trailed to your exposed neck, ni-ki's heart pounded while reaching out, gently brushing your hair aside.
and before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pressing soft, featherlight kisses along the curve of your nape up to your neck.
your body reacted on instinct, tilting slightly, giving him more access.
a soft, sleepy moan escaped your lips.
ni-ki's eyes widened, heart slamming against his ribs.
"…a- are you awake?" he asked.
silence.
panic surged through him. he quickly grabbed the blanket and draped it over you, standing up so fast he nearly tripped.
ni-ki ran home and the second his front door swung open, he stumbled inside, slamming it shut behind him. his fingers went straight to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging at it while his mind still clouded with you.
the soft moan you let out, the way your body naturally tilted into his touch, the warmth of your skin beneath his lips.
his jaw clenched as he glanced down at cock, his sweatpants doing a poor job at hiding the evidence of just how badly he was losing control.
ni-ki groaned, balling his fists, fighting the instinct to just take care of it.
he grabbed his phone, scrolling through his contacts.
the phone barely rang before a familiar, flirty voice answered.
"hey, ni-"
"how fast can you get here?"
the girl on the other end giggled. "mhm, about 30, 40 minutes-"
click. that's too late.
ni-ki exhaled sharply, tossing his phone onto his bed. his hand ran through his hair, feeling the frustration throughout his body. he pulled his sweatpants back up, shaking off the temptation.
and even though he had just worked out, he grabbed a set of weights and dropped to the floor, blasting music at full volume.
push-ups. sit-ups. anything to burn the tension off.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki looked like shit the next day.
you burst out laughing the moment you saw him.
he looked rough. dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, slouched in his chair like he barely made it out of bed.
"what happened to you?" you grinned, poking his arm.
ni-ki groaned, brushing you off. "it's your fault."
"wha- my fault? what did i do?"
he turned his head away, eyes shutting like he couldn't even look at you right now. "just… drop it."
you leaned in, pushing him playfully. "come on, tell meee." you pouted. "fine, then at least let me make it up to you! what can I do?"
ni-ki scoffed, tilting his head back against the chair. "there's nothing you can do."
when class ended and you followed him towards the gym storage room.
"ni-ki!" you called, slipping inside right behind him.
he turned around just as the door slammed shut. the click of the lock echoed through the small space.
"…are you kidding me?" ni-ki muttered.
you tried the handle. locked.
ni-ki groaned, he sat and started rubbing his face. "i really don't have the energy for this right now."
you stepped in front of him, with hands on your hips. "you seriously won't tell me what's wrong?"
and instead of answering, ni-ki suddenly reached out, gripping your waist and pulling you close.
you froze as he rested his head against your stomach, arms wrapped around you.
"just shut up, will you?" he murmured, voice muffled against your shirt.
you brought your hand to his hair, your fingers brushing the strands. you began to comb through them slowly, your touch gentle and rhythmic.
his body relaxed against you, the tension in his grip softening. ni-ki hummed.
you began to smile while playing with his hair, twirling a few strands between your fingers before smoothing them out.
it's sweet... but your legs were starting to ache.
"okay... maybe just a little longer." you thought, shifting your weight slightly to ease the pressure on your feet.
ni-ki didn't move. if anything, his grip on your hips tightened, like a sleepy child clutching a favorite pillow.
your legs began to tremble faintly, you hoped ni-ki would notice.
but nothing, he was like a cat curled up in the perfect sunbeam.
you sighed quietly, glancing down at him. your hands still in his hair as you debated your options. "maybe if i lean a little, he'll..."
ni-ki let out a low hum, his grip loosening just slightly as he shifted his head. for a split second, you thought your prayer had been answered, until he wrapped his arms fully around your waist, pulling you down to his lap.
"ni-ki!" you hissed, barely catching yourself with your hands as you stumble forward.
his eyes cracked open, a sleepy smirk tugging at his lips. "why are you so tense?"
"because you're treating me like a body pillow!"
"you're comfy."
you groaned, glaring at the top of his head. ni-ki added "you should've leave me alone." the smirk of his returned as his arms tightened around you once more.
"you know..." he began, "let's just skip class, you wanna sleep with me?"
your eyes widened, your brain short-circuiting at his words. "wha-what do you mean sleep with you?" you stuttered, leaning back instinctively.
ni-ki flicked your forehead lightly, his smirk growing. "not like that, you idiot." he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "i meant just sleeping. me, you, sleeping here. eyes closed. that's it."
you laughed awkwardly. "right..."
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki realized that he doesn't want to be your friend.
ni-ki got annoyed the second you started talking about jungwon. he had just introduced him but he noticed the way your eyes stared at his friend.
ni-ki subtly stepped in front of your view, blocking jungwon from your sight.
"hey! move!" you hissed, trying to peer around him.
and instead of budging, ni-ki covered your eyes with his hands.
"what the?!" you immediately grabbed at his wrists, struggling.
he kept his hands firmly in place, waiting until his jungwon hyung was completely out of sight.
and when he finally let go, you blinked, looking around. "where is he?"
ni-ki smirked. "i killed him."
you smacked his arm.
later, he was sitting on his bed while you lounged across from him, "he was really nice," you said, kicking your feet. "and kinda cute too, like a cat don't you think?"
"who do you like better, me or him?"
you blinked, confused. "what kind of question is that?"
"just answer."
"i like you," you said casually. "as my friend."
ni-ki scoffed. maybe he did want to be your friend before but that isn't the case anymore.
"i'm not your friend."
"yes, you are."
ni-ki grabbed your face with both hands, tilting your head up before slamming his lips onto yours, aggressively like he was trying to erase every thought you had of jungwon. "friends don't do this."
rough and desperate, his fingers pressed into your cheeks as he devoured your mouth, refusing to let you breathe while angling your head exactly how he wanted..
you gripped his shoulders, a muffled gasp escaping your lips as he deepened the kiss.
but ni-ki wasn't just kissing you, he was already claiming you.
he groaned against your lips, hands sliding to the back of your neck. holding you in place like he didn't want you slipping away and the second your lips parted slightly, he will deepen the kiss even more, biting at your bottom lip like he wanted to ruin you.
and when ni-ki finally pulled away, his lips were already swollen.
"you were saying?" ni-ki muttered, still holding your face.
you stared at him, breathless, lips tingling.
"…huh?"
he smirked, wiping his thumb over your lower lip before leaning in again.
"that's what i thought."
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki can't keep his hands off you.
you used to slap his hands away.
his arm over your shoulder? gone.
sneaking his hands around your waist? not happening.
grabbing your wrist to pull you closer? absolutely not.
but after the kiss, you started letting him and ni-ki noticed... of course, he did.
the first time you didn't push him away when he rested an arm around your shoulders, he almost did a double take.
you also didn't immediately escape when he pulled you onto his lap and when he linked his fingers with yours? he was expecting you to smack his hands, but you didn't.
"you're getting too comfortable," you muttered, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours.
ni-ki only smirked, giving your hand a squeeze.
"you're spoiling me, you know." he murmured against your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "if you keep this up, i'll start thinking you actually like me."
you scoffed, pushing his face half-heartedly.
ni-ki chuckled, leaning in like he was about to kiss you again. you froze, expecting the warmth of his lips- but he only brushed his nose against yours.
he pulled back, satisfied at the way you reacted. "see?"
your cheeks burned, frustration bubbling in your chest. you freed yourself from his grip and walked away, annoyed.
ni-ki watched you go with amusement. "where are you going?"
"far away from you."
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki ready to be yours.
"go put on a nice dress." ni-ki said over the phone.
you raised a brow. "why?"
he grinned. "because we're going to a restaurant."
you narrowed your eyes. "we are?"
"yeah." replied. "i made a reservation."
you got ready anyway. and when you stepped out in your dress, ni-ki scanned you up and down, "pretty." he murmured, before grabbing your hand and leading you outside.
before you both enter the restaurant, he suddenly intertwined his fingers with yours, "this is a date, okay?" he said, watching your reaction.
you blinked, caught off guard. "a what?"
ni-ki just grinned and dragged you inside.
your eyes widened as you looked around the table. all your favorite foods were there, plated beautifully under the dim, warm lights.
you turned to him, speechless.
ni-ki simply pulled out a chair for you, nodding at the seat.
the dinner was nice. way more than nice. he talked, he listened, and laughed with you.
"is this real? are you actually asking me out?"
"yes," ni-ki said, nodding. "i'm serious."
your chest tightened. you wanted to believe him but a part of you was scared.
what if he change his mind? what if you let yourself fall, only for him to break your heart once you bit into it?
ni-ki noticed your hesitation. he hated that you had to doubt him but he can't also blame why, though he wasn't just playing around.
he reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips. "just a bit more of your trust, okay?" he whispered against your skin.
you stared at him for a moment before finally leaning in to hug him.
he held you close, his lips curving against your shoulder. "you were mine the first time i kissed you."
you pulled back and laughed, playfully slapping his arm as you remembered how he stole your first kiss.
at his house, ni-ki captured your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. his mouth moved against yours, savoring every moment. he then pressed soft kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.
he found that sensitive spot that made you moan, he latched on and sucked harder, relishing the sound of your pleasure.
ni-ki started guiding you towards his bedroom, never breaking the kiss. once inside, he gently laid you down the bed, his body still pressed against yours.
he looked up at you with intense desire in his eyes, he asked breathlessly, "can i?" his eyes flicked down to your heaving chest.
you nodded, granting him permission. ni-ki didn't hesitate, slipping his hands under your shirt to fondle and tease your sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.
you arched into his touch, panting softly. he swallowed down your needy moans as he devoured your lips again, his tongue delving deep to clash against yours.
"friends won't do this, right?" ni-ki gasped between heated kisses. he tugged your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. his mouth moved, licking and sucking at your bare breasts.
your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against you as he lavished all attention on your tits.
then ni-ki trailed kisses down to your stomach. hooking his fingers in your panties, he groaned at feeling soaked folds. "fuck, you're so wet for me already," he murmured, tracing his finger along your slit.
he buried his face between your thighs and began eating you out with your panties on. the fabric added delicious friction when his mouth sucked the sensitive bud, lapping at your clit.
you cried out, ni-ki removed your panties. the first swipe of his tongue directly on your pussy made you both moan. you taste even better than he imagined.
ni-ki growled. diving in for more like a starving man. his talented mouth had you writhing and gasping within moments.
he couldn't help but picture how tightly your virgin pussy would squeeze his cock when he finally got to slide inside you. he just know he wouldn't last long once he felt your walls gripping him.
his tongue darted in and out of your slick folds, making you to tug on his hair harshly.
ni-ki's fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs as he licked and sucked your clit with sloppy, desperate motions. sounds of your moans and gasps only served to fuel his own growing arousal with every passing second.
but he promised himself he could wait, for now, he was content to focus solely on pleasuring you, determined to make you feel as good as possible.
he sealed his lips around your clit and suckled hard, pressing two fingers inside as listened to the squelching sounds of your tight cunt.
you cried out, your back arching off the bed as he pumped them in and out. "ni-ki, i...i think I'm going to...ahhh!" your words dissolved into a wordless moan as he curled his fingers just right.
soon, your thighs clamped around his head as you came, your pussy clenching down on his fingers in rhythm.
ni-ki crawled up your trembling body to capture your lips in a deep kiss. "you taste so good," he murmured against your mouth. "i can't wait to be inside you." he said as he positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the thick head of his cock at your wet folds "i'll be gentle, baby."
"tell me if it hurts too much." he added, slowly pushing forward when he felt your walls relaxed slightly.
you let out whimpers and sharp gasps, the sting of pain clouded your eyes with tears. ni-ki paused, giving you a moment to adjust to the new feeling of being filled inside completely.
the sensation of your pussy squeezing him was unlike anything else. he wanted to fuck the shit out of you, claim you so thoroughly that you'd never forget your first time but he loves you so he has to be patient and gentle with your innocent body.
your whimpers and moans filled the room, ni-ki's heart swelled seeing you like this, breathless, desperate... he can't believe that your body is his for the taking.
your cunt began to welcome him inch by inch.
"fuck, you feel amazing." he groaned, fighting the urge to hammer into you wildly.
starting with shallow thrusts, he gradually increased his pace, still mindful of your pain. and as ni-ki doing it deeper, he leaned down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. "you're taking my cock so well..." he praised. "so fucking sexy."
your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head back in bliss, lost to the new pleasure and pressure building inside you. ni-ki felt your walls fluttering around him erratically. "ni-ki, i think- i'm- again..."
he knew you were close.
he increased his pace, deep strokes hitting that special spot inside you with every thrust. his hands gripped your hips enough to bruise as he fucked his dick into you, grunting with the effort of holding himself back from his own release.
and with a strangled cry, you came undone beneath him. ni-ki followed soon after with a moan of your name, pulling out before spilling his cum all over your thighs.
after cleaning up, ni-ki crawled back into bed and pulled you to his chest, kissing your face and neck but you moved and positioned yourself in his hips, where his hardening cock already poking on your sensitive, beaten entrance. "ready again?" he chuckled, wrapping his arms on your waist, his face nuzzling on your neck.
you giggled and sank down on him with a gasp. ni-ki groaned at the slick heat enveloping him again, making love with more confidence this time around.
rounds later, you're all sweaty and tired. ni-ki wondered dazedly if he'd turned his sweet, innocent girl into a sex addict. "you're so good, ni-ki..." you said, kissing him. to ni-ki, you looked like a sex god, your lips kiss-swollen, chest full of hickeys, your hair is a mess...
completely wrecked by him.
he wrapped his arms around your limp form and rolled to the side, careful not to dislodge from where he was still buried inside you.
and you're there thinking about worshipping ni-ki's body for the rest of your life.
"i'm going to fuck you all over again in the shower." he declared with a wicked grin. you answered with a moan that tells him it sounds like the perfect plan.
never knew sex could hit this different when it was out of love.
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a/n: this is too long lol! enjoy <3 read PART TWO HERE
similiar: read Nishimura Riki as your boyfriend
read Nishimura Riki as your classmate
read part-timers!ni-ki x reader
read part-timers!ni-ki x reader part 2
read snitch - reader x ni-ki
read touché - ni-ki x reader
read touché - ni-ki x reader part 2
read exes - ni-ki x reader
721 notes · View notes
syluss-littlecrow · 1 day ago
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release
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<Caleb x fem!reader>
where both you and Caleb end up doing more than butt heads about his given curfew for you.
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genre/warnings: smut, pwp, mutual pinning, mutual obsession & possession, jealous!Caleb breeding kink, multiple orgasms, a lot of cum..., perverted!MC, friends to lovers?, squirting, unprotected sex, morning sex, pure Caleb brain rot, it gets pretty nasty
a/n: Caleb, Caleb, CALEB XIA YIZHOU 😭😭 the way I've been giggling over Caleb while watching his story and going back to my home screen with Sylus looking at me with his arms crossed.... Anyway, enjoy this Caleb brain rot 🥹🩷 I'll do one with Caleb's military air force uniform when I can 😔🫡
I JUST SAW THE NEW BANNER DROP IM NOT OK IF ANYONES WONDERING.
w/c: 3.5K
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Effortless. That is what Caleb feels like when his affections come to you. It bubbles and boils over when he thinks he's able to put a lid over it, and it overflows instead. It leaves him so defenseless. Yet, he can't seem to stop. It's the only thing that keeps him going in this hell. 
The only thing he feels is the metallic necklace barely weighing on his chest. It almost feels like you're here with him. 
And if you are, he wants to keep you here with him. Forever.
His eyes slowly open. His eyes focus on the hologram clock hovering at the side. 
You're supposed to be back already. 
Caleb contemplated on driving out to find you since he has your location pinging on his phone.
Since when did you have that many friends in Skyhaven? Why doesn't he know about them?
He checks the messages he's sent you, all unread. 
Caleb has to remind himself to stop clenching his jaw and biting his tongue. 
His stare towards the door grows anxious by the minute. Then he strengthens his resolve and marches towards the door, ready to leave and look for you. 
The second he pulls down the door handle, the jingle of the door unlocking from the outside sounds and the door swings open, making you and Caleb jump when he catches you in his arms from bumping into each other.
“Caleb!” You squeal, flustered at the way you completely ran into him. His warmth is radiating over to your skin. “Are you okay? Where were you gonna go?”
You watch a small pout form on his lips. He truly looks like a puppy when he does that, you can't help but think. 
“Look for you”, he curtly replies, making sure you've regained your balance before he releases your arms.
You straighten your posture, and sheepishly touch the nape of your neck, immediately avoiding his gaze. 
“Ah, right. Well, I got carried away with chatting with my friends and all…” 
Caleb crosses his arms. His pout turns into a frown, and his eyebrows are scrunched. 
Shit. He looks mad.
You inch closer to him, your fingers grazing over his knuckles. 
“I'm sorry, Caleb. Don't be mad okay? I'm home now, safe and sound, in the flesh, aren't I?”
Caleb breathes steadily, keeping his expression the same, but when you take his palm and nuzzle your cheek against it, Caleb feels the anxiety and frustration dissolve. He wants to reprimand you about the curfew, and why he implemented it in the first place. If you’ve stayed missing for a second longer, he would have completely lost it. But the moment his palm nearly touches your lips, it all dissipates, as if it never existed. 
Caleb exhales a sigh of defeat, letting it go just this time, alongside the countless times he did. 
“Go shower. I left the heater on for you.” 
You respond with a cheeky smile that makes something in Caleb’s chest bloom, and he lets you go, watching you disappear into your room. 
Caleb hears a knock on his door. He walks over and opens it, watching you coming into view. 
“Is there something you need, pipsqueak?”
You squeeze through the crack of the partially opened door and occupy his bed. 
“I'm just bored.”
Even though Caleb cocks his eyebrow, he still sprouts his smile, walking over to join you on his bed.
“Not because you're trying to make it up to me for coming back past curfew?”
Shit. 
Your smile playfully drops to a pout. “I got carried away yapping with my friends. You know I didn't mean to…” 
Caleb crosses his arms again.
“I could tell. My messages were all left unread.”
You curl your fingers to your lips when you realise you've been caught.
Caleb seems upset but you still see the softness beneath. 
He sighs. 
“I'm doing this for your own good, pipsqueak. I don't like you getting caught up in this.”
Caleb likes to think that it is that way, but he knows that it's more than just that. 
“As you can tell–” you’re showing off your body–your arms first then your legs, then your abdomen. But what Caleb didn't expect you to do was lift up your shirt slightly, your skin exposed, and have your shorts hike up your thighs, just to prove your point. “Nothing! You can check me for tracking devices too if you want to.” 
Something snaps in him.
“So do you let your friends inspect your body like that?” 
He crawls onto the bed, watching the smile slowly drop from your face. 
Caleb’s fingers trace your bare skin, drawing goosebumps from how ghostly the touches feel. His fingers slide from the top of your knees, and towards your thighs.
“Do you know how worried I was when you didn't answer my messages?”
You’re about to part your lips to respond, but he cuts you off. 
“I was wondering what conversations you were having that you ignored me.” 
“Caleb–”
He’s completely trapped you against the headboard of his bed. He's trapped you with his stare. 
Caleb inches closer, until he's close enough. His eyes glance down to your lips for a split second before his gaze meets yours again. 
Your breath is shaky when he leans in closer. 
Then he turns away. 
What the fuck? 
You watch in disbelief as he pulls away, your breath still caught in your throat from the tension.
Caleb’s signature smile returns and you feel his palm stroke the back of your head. 
“You should go back to bed. It's late.” 
He turns to open his door for you to leave. 
“Maybe I should start coming home later too.” 
He pauses in his steps. 
“I don't think that's a bright idea, pipsqueak.”
You slide off his bed and walk towards his door. 
“Maybe not. But I have brighter ones that consist of escaping your curfew.” 
You’re ready to leave the room with your victory, that is, until the door before you completely shuts. You see his shadow tower over you from behind. 
You turn to face Caleb, your arms are crossed. 
“Didn’t you ask me to go to bed?” 
“Changed my mind. I wanna make sure you're thoroughly inspected.”
You’re facing Caleb, back on his bed again. He starts with your face, but he lets his fingers linger around your lips, brushing across your bottom lip. You turn away, and his fingers catch your chin, forcing you to face Caleb.
“No looking away.”
His eyes are devouring every patch of skin that exists on your body. Even though you're clothed, you feel naked when he has his eyes on you this intensely. His fingertips trace back to your lips and he slides it down painfully slowly–past your chin, down your neck, through your sternum, past your stomach, and stops right above the elastic of your shorts. 
You want to shift, but you realise you can't–your body suddenly feels weighed down to the bed, and that's when you realise Caleb has you held down with his Evol.
The softness in Caleb’s eyes disappears, and something else replaces it. You watch him tug your shorts off you, and all you can do is watch helplessly. 
His kisses tickle from your ankle, and he builds them upwards at an agonising pace, each kiss feeling warmer as he travels up your thigh. 
Your heartbeat only accelerates from there, watching Caleb inch closer and closer to your cunt. Your thighs tense up from the sensitivity, the warmth of his lips spreading over your skin when you feel his tongue come in contact with your skin. 
“That tickles”, your voice is soft, as if the defiance in your tone before never existed.
Caleb’s lips press against your clothed pussy. Despite the fact that you’re trembling slightly, you've completely soaked your panties, and Caleb is more than happy to soak them even more. 
He buries his tongue, wetting the fabric even further. The pleasure draws soft moans, but evidently, it's not enough. 
“Caleb… Could you lighten your Evol?” You plead. You want to feel him so bad. 
Your body instantly lightens, and you almost think you're gonna fall off the bed. 
Something else holds you down this time, and it's Caleb. 
He tilts your chin up to have your lips meet his, now his kisses melting off the thoughts in your brain. Warmth burns through your skin. It takes you seconds to realise Caleb is lifting your shirt off you.
The clothing article is the next victim tossed somewhere else on the bed. 
You take his cheeks to your palms.
“I really need you now, Caleb.”
The softness returns to his eyes momentarily. 
“Are you sure you're okay with this?”
“I'll hop off right now and head straight to bed if you don't”, you huff. Fuck, the anticipation is just clawing through your insides, begging for Caleb to do something.
He playfully scoffs. 
“We both know you wouldn't.” 
Caleb tugs your panties to the side, and lines himself to your hole.
He thrusts into you in one swift motion, and you feel it all the way in. It knocks your breath out of you. Caleb watches you helplessly gasp for air and adjust to his size. He’s just filled you so full. 
He’s still supporting you so you don't fucking pass out. He feels you scratch all over his back from the pressure but he stays still, at least, until you've adjusted. 
“Shit. You're so fuckin’ warm for me”, he hisses into your neck, trying his best not to thrust into you. You feel so tight for him, he feels so good just staying there.
He stretches you open for him–your pussy fluttering at the feeling of him filling you up. The pressure slowly fades and you quickly adjust to his size.
Your vision blurs when he thrusts into you from below–the sensation so overwhelming that it's making you tear up. 
“So good”, you sigh, struggling to keep your eyes open–almost impossible when his cock is hitting your g-spot over and over again. Sparks burst into your eyelids whenever he hits the spot and it's evident that he knows he’s able to unravel you just like that, so easily. 
“Caleb…”, you moan. Caleb’s still fucking you, feeling the way you're just squeezing him, watching the way your fingers have gone clawing his back to his bedsheets, the way your tits are bouncing from fucking you, the way your eyes practically form hearts when he knows he's hit your sensitive spots.
“Faster, please. You feel so fucking good.”
He knows you shouldn't have said that. You're the only person who can rile him up like this. How the hell are you making him break his resolve when he's supposed to be upset with you?
He leans in, practically hovering over you. His fingers cup your cheek and he forces you to meet his violet eyes. 
In your fucked out haze, you blink, confused when he slows down. He pulls out completely, and you're about to complain until he rolls your soiled panties off your legs, tossing it to somewhere on the bed. 
You gasp when you feel his thumb graze over your wet and throbbing clit. 
“I'm gonna make you wonder what the fuck wrong with your body”, Caleb’s voice reaches your ears. His words sends a shiver down your spine.
“Your little pussy is gonna throb every time you think of me.”
That's all the warning he gives before his arms tower over you, holding your wrists down above your head. 
He fucks you into an orbit and you're practically helpless–forced to take his thrusts over and over. But fuck, it feels so good. It feels like fucking heaven. 
You like how dizzy it makes you feel. You like how he's not stopping, no matter how much tears stream down your face, and how pathetic you sound crying and moaning his name. 
“Fuck! Caleb, it's too much–” you whimper, the strange feeling building up in your stomach. It feels like it's about to snap any second. 
He acknowledges your words, but he doesn't bother slowing down. 
“Didn’t you promise me to be a good girl and take all of it?” 
“Caleb–!”
Your voice sounds so heavenly when you call his name.
The fluids fountains out of you, soaking everything near it's vincity–including the both of you. Your orgasm continues to wash over you and more fluids spray out.
Caleb watches you squirm and jolt while you make a mess all over him. 
He lets go of your wrists, the slight redness forming onto your skin, and his thumb caresses your bottom lip. 
Despite your arms feeling sore from resisting against his hold, you wrap them around his neck, pulling him close to catch his lips. He's taken back for a split second, but he returns the kiss, letting his soft moans drown into your lips while you clench around him.
When you both pull back, it's Caleb’s turn to have his eyes glazed and his cheeks dusted a soft shade of pink. 
“y/n, if you keep doin’ that–fuck”, Caleb groans, his fingers closing into a fist against the sheets. His breath is shaky. The euphoria is threatening to spill over–the fact that you're trapping him in like this with you, just the two of you solely existing together right now–he could get high off this feeling. He doesn't need anything else. 
“I'm so close. Shit.” You watch the bead of sweat trickle down his temple, down to his cheek, to his chin, and then it disappears into the mess the both of you made below. 
Caleb’s voice makes you refocus on him. 
His palm presses against your cheek again, his thumb brushing lightly on the corner of your lips. 
“You're gonna take all of it like a good girl, yeah?” 
You nod, almost too eagerly. Caleb can't help but think that your face after being fucked looks breathtakingly beautiful. It makes him want to hide you further. The world doesn't deserve someone like you. 
He crashes his lips with yours, melting into the kiss while he pumps you full with his thick cum–making sure he has himself seated deep inside so nothing spills out. At least, not until he pulls out.
The high slowly descends, and the both of you are left panting, getting lost in each other’s eyes just for that moment before Caleb slowly pulls out. 
Caleb then reaches for the glass of water perched on his nightstand to offer you. You take a good few sips of water, and hand it back to Caleb, who takes a couple of sips as well. He notices the way your cheeks are still flushed and that you're blinking more. He plants the empty glass onto the nightstand, ready to carry you to wash up and probably change the sheets after.
In a daze, you notice Caleb’s cum seeping out of your hole in small loads. You wet two fingers and slide them to your pussy–and you push the thick fluids back in, your body jolting in pleasure while you're pretty much fingering your pussy with Caleb’s cum.
Caleb swallows hard while he watches you pleasure yourself. He’s about to say something but you cut him off.
“Your cum keeps leaking out”, you point out, giving him the full view of your cum-soaked pussy. You look up at him with an innocent, poison-soaked gaze–your lashes wet and your thighs trembling from each time you feel his cum leak out of you.
“It’d be such a waste–”, you mutter, shivering one more time when your fingers fuck you again, the room only filled with your voice and the wet squelching sounds from your pussy.
“–if it doesn't stay inside.” 
You barely have time to process what happens next. The next thing you knew, Caleb has your hands pinned above your head with one hand, and the other on your cheeks. His legs stop you from closing yours, and you feel his wet thickness hard once more, resting on your pubic bone.
“You know, pipsqueak”, his voice drops an octave lower. His voice is clear, and he makes sure you hear him. “It's okay to just ask for more.” His eyes reflect such a gorgeous shade of wild you've never seen before, and it looks fucking good on him.
No warnings–your cunt is just wet and sopping that Caleb stuffs you to fullness once more–you give up trying to keep your eyelids open, your mind only processing the way he’s fucking so deep into you again and again.
“You know I'll always give it to you.” 
The way his fingers are cupping your cheeks stops you from answering. Well, he doesn't need a verbal response, especially not when you’re clenching him so fucking tight when your orgasm hits you for the…how many times was it now?
You feel stings that slowly dull around your shoulders and chest. The bites Caleb’s given you are as red as the ruby on his apple necklace. 
The night is drowned with sounds and sensations of both you competing to send each other to the heavens. 
What day is it now? 
Caleb blinks his heavy eyelids open. He soaks in the atmosphere around him, and it doesn't take him long to realise that you're lying on his arm.
Thankfully, it's not numb. Your hair tickles his cheeks. 
He notices the light peeking through his curtains. It's probably daytime. 
Caleb presses his lips against the back of your head, while he pulls you closer. He almost jolts when he hears a soft moan coming from you.
For some reason, something feels funny. 
He attempts to shift slightly, and realises the predicament–his dick is still hard as fuck, and he’s still nestled so fucking deep in you. Fuck. Did the both of you fall asleep mid-sex? The feeling bleeds into him again. 
Are you even awake to realise this? 
Caleb bites his inner cheek, the hardness only builds. Shit. Even after all of that, you're still this warm and tight? 
He watches your breathing steadily. 
He hooks your leg over his arm almost too easily, giving himself easier access to fuck you deeper. Your sleepiness is slowly dissipating, overtaken so fucking quick by the burning desire once more.
His thrusts bear slight friction at first, but somehow that only adds to the pleasure–the rawness, the fact that he's left a mess in you and kept that way, and that he gets to do it all over again in the morning. 
“Ca…Caleb..!” You squeal, uselessly fisting the pillows while Caleb rails you from below. 
“So perfectly warm for me, y/n”, his morning voice dousing you. He takes advantage to litter more bites to the back of your neck and shoulders, and spoils you with his strained moans when he reflects the way you whimper whenever he hits your sensitive spots. 
You sheepishly bury your teary face into the pillows, and Caleb pushes himself impossibly deeper, forcing you to face him when you jolt in surprise. His violet eyes are eating you up. You hear his voice ring in your ears.
“Wanna make you cry more like this. You're so pretty when you cry when I'm splittin’ you open like this.” 
More tears stream down your cheeks whenever your g-spot gets abused over and over. Caleb forces you to meet his gaze. His thrusts are slower, but harder. 
“Shit, you're really gonna milk me dry, yeah?” Caleb hisses when he feels you flutter around him. Your cum is mixed with his, and drips down his cock, to his balls. 
Caleb pulls you tighter, deepening the kiss one last time while he breeds you full over and over for nth time since the last night, devouring your whimpers when the words you muttered to him last night comes into memory. You're so dizzy with pleasure, and Caleb has stolen all of your breaths. 
He finally pulls out, his cum endlessly drizzling out of your abused hole, and it almost sets him off again. 
Nonetheless, he forces himself to get out of bed so he can get a towel and clean you up.
Another loving kiss he presses onto your temple.
“I'm gonna get a towel, pipsqueak.” His husky whispers send shivers down your body, and the warmth of his touch lingers on your thighs for a lot longer than you realise.
He leaves the bed for the bathroom. 
You nuzzle into the pillows Caleb was just lying on, drowning yourself with his scent. The wetness that sticks between your legs–you can't tell if it's your fresh arousal or if it's his cum anymore.  
Not that it mattered since steadying your breath when you realised he was still in you when you stirred before him to see what he'd do next, gave you such a big reward. 
And you'd do it all over again. You would say things to get under his skin, just to get a rise out of him, just to keep his attention on you, always. 
You wanted to keep his strained voice when he called your name, the way he looks at you with so much desperation when he breeds you full, in a bottle and store it for your perverted indulgence. 
No one else needs to know that this part of Caleb exists, because he belongs to you. 
The dim light catches your attention underneath the thick sheets. You take the device, unlocking the phone with your fingerprint. 
6 missed calls. 
You swipe them away. You shut off his phone.
He doesn't need to know.
He doesn't need to remember.
At least, not when he's with you. 
531 notes · View notes
yanderedrabbles · 1 day ago
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Yandere Days of the Week
Monday is your grouchy and uptight coworker. He's a stickler for the rules and not someone who confesses his feelings. He'll usually push his spectacles up his nose and frown at you whenever you try and do something new, no matter how simple.
"What did I say about filling out the spreadsheets by yourself? You've confused all the figures."
He'll push both you and your chair out of the way and settle himself at your desk like one messed up spreadsheet means the death of the whole company. If you ever try and thank him, he'll glare at you like you've insulted his whole bloodline.
"Tch. Just ask me next time."
If you pay attention, you might notice the blush that tinges his cheeks whenever you smile at him. You might notice the way he straightens his already perfect tie before coming over to harangue you about company dress code and your slightly-too-short skirts. (Why is he noticing your skirt length to begin with? Perv).
Luckily for him, you're usually too irritated or harassed to pay attention. His secret crush will be staying a secret for as long as he can manage.
Tuesday is your overly sweet neighbour. He introduced himself to you the second you moved in - offering you a tupperware of homecooked food because he knew exactly how overwhelming moving in could be. He's the guy you call when you need a shelf hung up or a stubborn jar opened. He'll raise his brows when you thank him, secretly pleased that you asked for his help.
"That's what neighbours are for, right?"
He doesn't mention that the previous tenants left him a spare key to your apartment. What if you get hurt one day while you're locked inside, with no one able to reach you in time? It's safer for you both if he keeps it a secret.
And if he occasionally let's himself into your apartment while you're at work, it's just to keep an eye on the place. It's what any good neighbour would do. So stop wondering what the white stains on your panties are, okay?
Wednesday is your unassuming classmate. They're the quiet kind, apt to fade into the background without meaning to.
At first, they were envious of you. Pretty, clever, friendly - you aren't the type people can easily ignore. They watch you whenever they can, desperate to somehow copy that elusive charm that makes you so special.
It doesn't work, obviously. When they try smiling like you it looks stiff and unnatural. When they copy your outfits they feel exposed, self conscious. When they try wearing the same perfume as you they break out in hives that last all week.
They can't be you. No one can.
But they aren't going to give up so easily. Maybe your luck doesn't come from clothes or hair or makeup. Maybe it's something deep inside of you, something that can be ripped out and kept for themselves.
They're going to learn what makes you so special, even if it means following you home with duct tape and chloroform.
Thursday is your favourite professor. He's the quietly confident type, the kind of man who doesn't have to shout to keep the lecture hall's attention. He's insightful and empathetic, his brown eyes always warm.
You trust him totally and completely. You don't notice when he starts resting his hand on your lower back whenever you stand next to him. You don't notice that your papers are always graded more harshly than your classmates. You don't realise he wants you, not even when he offers you private office hours despite his packed schedule.
You're a real cock tease, always looking at him with those doe eyes and pretty lips. He's a patient man - he'll have you eventually. It doesn't matter if it takes him two weeks or two years, he'll keep dropping your grades until you beg him for help.
You trust him. You really, really shouldn't.
Friday is the star athlete that everyone admires. Handsome, confident, clever. A man like that would usually invite envy, would get dirty looks thrown at his back and nasty surprises in his locker.
Not him though. Everyone loves Friday.
Well, everyone except for you. There's something about him that frightens you. Underneath his golden boy facade, there's something rotten and selfish.
You don't realise he's noticed your dislike until he corners you after class one day. He wraps one hand around your wrist as everyone files out of the lecture hall, too eager for the weekend to notice the slightly panicked look on your face.
"Listen, I hate to think I've done something to offend you. If I have, just tell me now and we can sort it out," he tells you, blue eyes cold and distant despite his pretty boy smile.
You tug at your wrist but his grip is unbreakable. He isn't hurting you, but his strength keeps you right where he wants you.
"We barely even know each other," you say, your eyes jumping to the door and the suddenly empty corridors. "I don't have any issue with you."
"That's a lie and we both know it. I don't want to push you, but I'm not letting you go until I know what I've done."
You finally meet his eyes. "You have it too easy in life. You get everything you want. I don't hate you. But I don't like you either."
His expression is a careful blank. "I'm not going to apologise for what I have or for what I've been given."
You tug at your wrist again and he finally let's you go.
"I don't expect you to," you mutter as you swing your bag over your shoulder and hurry out the door.
He watches you leave and inside him some selfish, possessive creature lifts its head and growls. You should have known - when a man with everything he could ever want is shown something he can't have, that just makes him want it all the more.
"Gonna make her mine," he says to the empty classroom. A promise or a threat, even he can't be sure.
Saturday is a party girl. The kind of bombshell who wears a tiny metallic bikini, a cowboy hat and absolutely nothing else to a rave.
She knows every kind of cocktail and every kind of fun time pill. She's shamelessly cocky and shamelessly outgoing. When you run into her at a concert, she'll get you all the way to the stage no matter how packed the crowds are. 
You'd think a girl like that would know all about boundaries and consent and you'd be right. The thing is, she ignores it just as easily as she ignores speed limits and DUI citations.
She'll kiss you when you're too drunk to say no. She'll give you pills that she knows you can't handle just to take you home. She'll ignore you when you try and push her away, weak and intoxicated and too woozy to form a full sentence.
And the worst part? She knows you won't report her. Girls can get drunk and touchy without it ever being called a crime.
She'll run her hands up your thighs and nip your neck and tell you she loves you. But she's always long gone by morning.
She's just a girl, your honour. And she'll use that excuse as many times as she needs to.
Sunday is your local barista. He's an artist on the side, the kind of creative soul who can't express himself without the help of charcoal and acrylic.
He's too stoic to ever work the cash register or take orders, but he somehow always ends up there when you're in line.
He usually sneaks an extra sweet treat into your order. And if he has the time, he'll usually leave a little doodle on your receipt.
He hasn't spoken to you much, but he can feel the red thread of fate tugging you closer everyday. You're soulmates, lovers meant to be, fated by heaven and all its angels.
It doesn't matter how long it takes, you'll be his eventually. He can read it in the stars.
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meo-eiru · 2 days ago
Note
Just for the giggles, elves having drastically different bodies might mean Silas could have things dangerous to humans in his home when he first brings Darling back. Like, poisonous berries or mushrooms for example. And just Silas having a good old fashion, prying his pet's mouth open demanding to know what Darling put in their mouth. (Please note, Darling wasn't self harming, Darling just doesn't know their poisonous plants.)
Oh I love that. Silas making you open your mouth and sliding his much bigger finger in to check if you ate something poisonous. He'd keep you on his lap so you don't trash around as he checks to make sure.
Maybe he'd get a bit distracted while doing so and start touching your teeth and tongue. Feeling fascinated by how cute and small all of them are, maybe he'd gently grab your tongue and pull it out, rubbing his thumb over it to feel its texture and your saliva.
Imagine him biting it after pulling your tongue out. Ofc in a way that won't hurt you, just giving it a gentle nibble. He can't help it, you're just too cute and so is your little tongue. The texture would be quite different than his, since elf tongues are smoother...
"Wait wasn't he checking if I ate something poisonous?" you might ask, he confirmed you didn't as soon as he opened your mouth and checked the smell of your breath. Now he's focused on playing with your cute little moth, it's alright right?
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c0ffeejelly1 · 1 day ago
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Manhandling him
Multiple character headcannon
Authors note: UGH pls this whole things was for jokes bc I can’t really be that ask to make something I feel is good. Teehee. Also I can mischaracterise all I want okay let a girl dream pls. (POST-TIMESKIP!!)
Warning: man it’s like the smallest hint of the nasty freaky stuff
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“Babe, you got something on your face. Let me just…” You reach out to your boyfriend, making him look your way by gripping his chin firmly while you flick away a bit of ‘glitter’ from his cheek. “There you go.”
Strike one.
That was just the beginning of your strange behavior today.
“Hey baby, c’mere I wanna kiss…” you call him over from the other side of the kitchen counter, only to yank on his collar and pull him in for one hell of a snog. “Seriously, you have no business looking this good today.”
Strike two.
Just what was up with you today?
You just got home from work, and as he’s about to sit up to see you, you suddenly push him back down onto the couch, mumbling something about how much you “missed him”.
Strike three.
You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your lips, but then you pause to check out his face.
Perhaps you took this prank too far…
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The type to be oddly into it
“…are you hard?”
This snaps your boyfriend out of his thoughts.
He’d never ever ever thought he could find himself in a situation like this. this is the kind of stuff you see in movies, right? I mean, come on!
Just picture how mortifying it is to be turned on from someone mistreating you! It’s pathetic!
He can’t just blurt out, ‘oh hell yeah I’m hard’ in response to that question—why would anyone even think to ask that? What can a guy do in a moment like this except deny it?
“What? N-no!…” He glances away, feeling the weight of your intense gaze. “…maybe?”
When you raise an eyebrow at him, his mask crumbles entirely. There’s no use in pretending.
You’ve already seen right through him, leaving him no option but to retreat into a shadowy corner and disappear.
“Yeah.” He responds, his voice tinged with disappointment. “I…I am.”
Maybe it’s because of the way you handled him like he was nothing that made him so bothered.
Maybe it was the way you looked so desperate to have him that did it for him.
Either way, he’s discovered something about himself he never knew he ever had.
And make no mistake, you were going to exploit this discovery to the fullest.
“Have I told you how much I love you babe?” You pull back from his face after practically devouring it as he stands there, grinning like a lovesick fool, dishes still in hand.
“I think you should tell me more.”
“Wrap up with those dishes, and I’ll give you a demonstration instead.”
Be ready for one hell of a night cowgirl. Wink wink
Charcters: serizawa, armin, EREN, REINER, ukai, ATSUMU, Osamu, Gojo, CHOSO, leviathan, SATAN, DIAVOLO, IIDA, denki, tamaki, CHILDE, Cyno, sanji, LAW
The type to think you’ve finally gone crazy
you call out to him, noticing he seems lost in his phone. Yet, oddly enough, he flinches slightly every time you speak.
This reaction occurs whenever you draw near him, as if your voice startles him, even when you're just a breath away. It’s not that he dislikes your voice; rather, it feels like he’s a bit intimidated by you now.
What happened to the confident guy who was with you just two days ago? Why does he seem to be tiptoeing around you like a child with a fragile toy?
“Y/N…is everything alright?” He approaches you cautiously, maintaining a bit of distance, trying to balance his interest with a hint of hesitation. “You’ve been…um, I just wanted to check—are you upset with me?”
“Upset with you?” You set your phone aside, raising an eyebrow at him. “Why would I be upset? Did you do something wrong?”
That’s the very question he’s grappling with. Your passionate touches and fervent kisses have left him bewildered about your feelings.
Are you so enamored that you can’t help yourself, or are you retaliating for something he might have done? Suddenly, a thought strikes him.
“…If this is about how intense things got last night, I’m sorry, but you did ask for it when I warned you I wouldn’t hold back—” His words are cut short as your hand swiftly covers his mouth.
“No! No that’s—just no. It was a prank babe, a trend I saw online” you say, removing your hand and placing both on his shoulders. “Last night has nothing to do with today or any other day.”
“Not even you complaining about being sore?”
“Not even me complaining about…wait I never did that!”
“Yeah buts it’s easy to tell.”
Charcters: REIGEN, giyuu, giyomei, JEAN, KAGEYAMA, hinata, kuroo, OIKAWA, AKAASHI, geto, NANAMI, Solomon, IZUKU, Diluc, LAIOS, zayne, LAW (Sowy I can see him as both)
The type to also manhandle you
Did you honestly believe you could manhandle him without facing the same treatment in return? Come on this is your boyfriend we’re talking about, In fact, I think he’s thrilled that you can boss him around so effortlessly.
So thrilled that he makes it into a competition
“Okay let’s see who tackles the first person on the bed.” His eyes shine with enthusiasm as he confidently places his hands on his hips. “If I win I get to have my way with you, and if you win, you get to have me have my way with you. Deal?”
You pause for a moment to process his words “…uh, how is that fair?”
“What do you mean?” he replies, brushing off your concern with a grin.
“I think it’s perfectly fair. No matter the outcome, you get a nice little reward, right?” His voice dances with mischief as he nudges you playfully with his elbow, clearly trying to elicit a reaction.
You roll your eyes at him, feigning annoyance, before relenting, “I guess it’s not so bad..”
“Exactly! Now, I’m going to count down. Ready? 3…2…” Before you can fully grasp what’s happening, he lunges at you, tackling you onto the bed before he even reaches 1.
“H-hey! That’s cheating, you can’t do that!” But your protests are ignored, your boyfriend already having you wrapped in his warm embrace, his face buried against your neck.
“This is what you get for how you’ve been treating me today.”
“What are you talking about?” You pause for a moment, though you suspect he’s finally caught on to your little scheme. “You mean me kissing you like any normal woman would with the love of her life?”
“No. Just you touching me all weirdly…”
“Don’t say it like that you make me sound like a perv.”
“Maybe cause you are.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“…”
“…”
“I’m not.”
Charcters: RENGOKU, tengen, connie, NISHINOYA, hinata (yes again), kuroo (YESSS AGAIN), BOKUTO, TENDOU, MAMMON, DENKI (twice and what), kirishima, ITTO, rafayel, LUFFY
The type…yeah you ain’t doing that
Screw everything I just said in the intro. If you genuinely think you can manhandle this man and succeed. You’re crazy.
“Hey, come here, you’ve got something—” The moment your hand nears his face, he seizes your wrist, staring at you as if you’ve just committed a serious offense.
“What are you doing?”
“Uh…I’m trying to like get the little speck of glitter off your face.”
“We don’t own glitter?”
“Dust then?” He shoots you a skeptical glance.
“…sure.”
So that was an absolute fail…
But you’re not ready to throw in the towel just yet. No way! You just need to bide your time until nightfall, when he’s all soft and cuddly. That’s when you’ll make your move.
As the evening unfolds and you’re prepping for bed in the bathroom, you catch sight of him reaching for something in the cupboard above you. This is your moment. The time to pull him in close and—
SMACK
“The hell? What was that for?” He rubs his forehead, clearly taken aback by your sudden move.
Who knew kissing your boyfriend could be this complicated? Somehow, you ended up colliding headfirst into him, and now he’s clearly fed up with you.
“That wasn’t how it was supposed to go…” you say with a shy smile, nervously scratching the back of your head. “You alright?”
You gently move his hand away from his forehead to check for any damage, and to your surprise, he lets you.
Wait a minute… you actually moved his hand, and he’s okay with it? Is this manhandling? I think it’s manhandling. It’s manhandling.
“…I did it.”
“Did what?”
“I touched you!”
“??”
Pls stop confusing this man he’s already tired enough.
Charcters: dimple, akashi, MIDORIMA, aomine, sanemi, KAGEYAMA (yes again), TSUKISHIMA, iwaizumi, TOJI, LUCIFER, bakugou, AIZAWA, sylus, ZORO,
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esotericbluntbaby · 2 days ago
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compensation
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hamzahthefantastic x reader
description: going against your wishes, your boyfriend decides to fight another match after spraining his wrist the last time he boxed. injured, he returns home to his girlfriend, who can't help but feel more than just "angry."
mentions: boxer!hamzah, bf!hamzah, angsttt, female reader, sub! hamzah, blood, bruises, nsfw!
GUYS IM SORRY I FORGOT TO POST THIS PLS DONT KILL ME
--
this was the first time that hamzah kept you in the dark, betraying your trust in him.
he was always a strong-willed, passionate boy; in fact, it was one of the things you found attractive in him. he kickstarted his youtube with his resilience and determination. giving up was simply not an option for him; one way or another, plan after plan, he'd get his goal even if it meant he had to cut off his limbs and sell them. if hamzah wanted something, he would get it, similar to a horse kicking whenever it's being restrained. though, normally, he knew when to stop pushing, especially when the cost was more than the benefit.
the last time hamzah boxed, his wrist fractured like a 6 year old cracks a wishbone. you, obviously, knew that getting hurt was apart of his hobby; you didn't like it, but you accepted that it was inevitable for some part of him to be banged up and broken. he allowed you to stay in the hospital with him during the time he was getting monitored, meaning that you were allowed to hear the doctor tell him that he had to wait 6 weeks to box again.
during the hospital visit, hamzah realized he had a match in exactly 5 weeks. you argued with him, telling him that there would be no way in hell that he'd be able to box until his wrist is fixed. of course, being as stubborn as a mule, hamzah argued back that he had to fight if his life depended on it. eventually, the night settled in as you laid in bed together that night, cuddling; he told you that you were right. reassuring you that he wouldn't be fighting, he kissed you goodnight. you thought you wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.
that was, until tonight, an hour after the match: when hamzah walked in the front door, bloody and bruised.
his eye began to swell, darkening around the indents of his skull. the black eye that adorned his face was accompanied by a deep gash that exposed the layer beneath his skin. he looked at you with guilt plastered in his banged up face, furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips being muted by the extent of his injuries. you didn't have to guess where he was: you felt betrayed by the fact that you knew exactly what he went out to do. alongside his injuries and deception, came a girlfriend who wasn't going to speak to him.
--
not a single word was said when you grabbed his other wrist and walked to the bathroom with him; the room was filled with silence and guilt radiating off of him. he was currently sitting on the toilet seat as you rummaged around the medicine cabinet for materials that would help you fix his wounds. though you were upset, you weren't going to leave him to tend to his own injuries; you were still his girlfriend, after all. sitting on the floor, you grabbed his wrist to check how worsened it became.
"baby-"
"no, hamzah."
from your previous arguments, you knew that hamzah has a habit of overloading you with pet names. he knew he fucked up; you know he fucked up. him starting his sentence with "baby" helped you realize that he knew he's in the doghouse.
taking the textured, cotton gauze, you began to wrap his wrist with a softness that foiled your emotions towards him. you felt his eyes trained on you like the aimbot of a video game; his gazed fixated on every single movement you made. he noticed the way that you still looked so pretty even when you were mad at him. the way your face looked, tensed and full of agitation, created a pool of guilt that he swam in. he hated making you upset, but he simply needed to box. it was passion. it was commitment. he had to do it; at least, that's what he was telling himself. however, no matter how much he told himself that he had to fight, he knew it was wrong of him to go against your wishes and back. he knew you wanted the best for him and his physical being.
"i'm sorry. i shouldn't have gone tonight. i was being stupid and i shouldn't have went behind your back like that."
you listened to him apologize, yet, didn't respond. in fact, you didn't even look at him. there was no acknowledgement of his apology; it was almost like it never even happened in the first place. he needed to know how truly upset you were. instead, you focused on wrapping his wrist with a second layer of gauze, to keep everything in place.
"baby, please. just talk to me- i don't care if you cuss me out or give me hell for betraying you like that, just- please talk to me," his mannerisms were tense and rushed, "how do i fix this? how do i get you to speak to me? i'll do anything- i swear- you want me to quit boxing completely? i will. you want me to do all the housework in this house? i will- i'll do every single chore. shit, if even just sitting in a corner for days with no food or water would get you to speak to me, i'd do that. please, baby- please."
you finished wrapping the gauze by the time he finished his speech about what he'd do to get you to speak to him. you began to touch his face, examining the bruise on his eye and cheekbone like a scientist looking through a microscope. suddenly, he grabbed you by the cheek, forcing you to look up at him.
"i'm sorry. please, just speak to me. i'll do anything. talk to me. i just wanna hear your voice."
listening to him yearn for your voice made you feel a certain type of way. yes, you were mad. however, in a way, this whole situation was turning you on. you hated to admit it, but your boyfriend looked attractive with a black eye and bruised cheekbone. the fact that he was begging for you to speak to him made the sexual tension you were feeling within you even worse. his submissive side was creating a potion of ecstasy in your stomach; you wanted to see how far he'd go.
you sighed, "i don't know anymore, hamzah. you told me you wouldn't. i trust you less."
"i know, pretty, i'm sorry. i'll earn it back, i promise. i shouldn't have gone tonight. i was being an idiot."
standing up as his face followed where your eyes were, you rubbed it against his open wound, earning a wince from him as he gripped onto your waist. butterflies emerged in your stomach, causing you to feel similar to how light a fairy is.
"thanks for the warning," he said with sarcasm and irritation laced in his voice, opening his eyes from the hard shut he indulged in
"you don't deserve one."
he pulled you onto his lap, causing you to straddle him on the toilet seat. taking your cheeks, he cupped your face in his hands and sighed. he looked at you with a level of submissiveness you haven't seen in him. normally, hamzah was the dominant one; yet, you didn't mind that the roles switched.
"what can i do to get you to not be mad at me?"
"i dunno. you're a smart boy," you grabbed his cheek and stroked it with your thumb, "figure it out, baby."
you saw a lightbulb flicker on in his eyes. he sensed the tension in the room wasn't only angry, but there was also sexual tension in its silver lining.
"you want me to make it up to you?"
you leaned towards his ear, now whispering, "how are you gonna do that, hamzah?"
you felt something poke at your ass from beneath you, a slight twitch emerging from it too. your words made him as hard as a rock.
that's so fucking hot.
"baby, i thought you were mad at me."
"oh, i am. trust me, i'm fucking pissed."
he kissed you on the cheek, "i'm sorry."
he kissed you on the jawline, "i'm sorry."
he kissed you on the lips, "i'm sorry."
moving down to your neck, he kissed it longer than the pecks he gave you previously. you felt a sucking motion, as well as his tongue swirling on your sweet spot, shortly after. your breath got heavier, almost as if your lungs were being weighed down by hot air. your lips parted as he sucked a dark spot onto your neck.
"i'm sorry, pretty girl. forgive me?"
"not yet."
his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "why not?"
"i need more than that."
"tell me what you need, pretty. i'll do it."
you leaned closer to his ear, kissing his neck and the area between, "you know what i want from you."
standing up from the toilet seat, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you to your bedroom. your lips began to intertwine with his as he walked through the hallway, your tongues melting together like two lollipops on a hot day. he laid you down on the bed, still kissing you with everything he had; he needs you to forgive him.
letting go of your lips, he moved closer to the edge of the bed, taking off your shorts and leaving you in your underwear. feeling exposed in front of hamzah was always nerveracking in your own way; however, this time it was different. you knew hamzah had to please you, leaving you with a newfound confidence.
"are you okay with this?" he asked, exhibiting a level of care that you were all too familiar with.
"do whatever you want to me, hamzah."
taking your underwear off, you were left laying on top of your sheets in a tank top. his arms wrapped around your legs like a snake to its prey, prying your legs apart with a sense of desperation.
"you're so pretty like this baby," he kissed the inner part of your thigh, "you're so fucking pretty."
he spit on the area between your legs, earning a subtle gasp from you. his tongue began to lap on you, dropping saliva on the area of you that was already wet. between your legs, you felt the roughness and neediness of his tongue. his hands squeezed your inner thighs as pleasure began to unravel the metaphoric yarn located in your stomach. hamzah was eating the fuck out of you, leading to your moans getting louder and louder with each and every movement his tongue created against you.
his tongue produced a dance that only the both of you would know. some parts were as fast as light, while other ones were full of yearning and slowness; he knew exactly how to balance it for you to feel the best that you could feel.
your hands made its way to his hair, "you're so pretty like this, hamzah. my boy- my pretty boy."
his movements got faster as his grip against your thighs tightened even more, as if you were going to fly away if he let go. similar to his hands, you squeezed his hair as his movements quickened in pace; you could feel the yarn unraveling like a rubber band about to snap.
"f-fuck- hamzah, i'm close-"
he kissed your core, before his tongue sped to a pace you haven't felt before. you watched him eat you out like there was no tomorrow, leaving loud moans echoing the room, before he felt you release into his mouth. kissing it once again, he looked up at you as his hands massaged the pillows that he was in between. you looked at each other with love while he watched your heavy breathing and fucked-out expression.
"forgive me?"
"i forgive you. please go box someone else, baby."
confusion was apparent in his face, "what?"
"you're so fucking hot when you're bruised and yearning."
--
author's note!
this is so short omfg i hate using anatomical words for smut LOL more coming soon!
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minorlyatfault · 2 days ago
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jason todd didn't like feeling weak. not physically, not emotionally, not in any way. he was red hood, the second robin, the guy who crawled his way out of the grave, the guy who made criminals run the second they saw him. he wasn't fragile.
at least, that's what he told himself.
but you knew better.
you saw the way his hands shook sometimes, how he clenched his jaw so tight it looked like it hurt. how he acted like he was fine, always fine, even when he was bleeding right in front of you.
like tonight.
he got hit▰bullet to the side, not deep enough to be life threatening, but deep enough that he couldn't just ignore it. he tried to, though.
"i don’t need help," he muttered, struggling to take off his jacket without wincing.
"jason, you’re literally bleeding on my floor."
"i’ve had worse."
"that’s not the point." you crossed your arms. "sit down. let me fix it."
he sighed like you were asking him to do something absurd, but he sat. that alone told you everything.
you came back, first aid kit in hand & went to work on the wound while he sat there, way too tense.
“you don't have to do this," he muttered.
"i know."
his jaw tightened, but he didn't move away. you stitched him up carefully, your fingers brushing against his skin, & he hardly moved.
"you're not a burden, you know," you said after a minute.
he scoffed. "never said i was."
"you don't have to. i see it every time you push me away." you paused, looking up at him. "you don't have to be strong all the time, jason."
his eyes flickered. something in him hesitated, but he didn't let it break through.
"i hate this," he muttered.
"hate what?"
"feeling like this." he motioned at himself, at the bandages, at you sitting next to him. "weak."
you frowned. "jason, you're not weak."
"doesn't feel like it."
your chest felt tight. you reached for his hand, & he let you, just like he always did. but this time, it's different. that it's not just jason who you're holding, but the red hood as well.
"being strong doesn't mean doing everything alone," you said quietly. "sometimes it means letting people help."
he swallowed, his fingers twitching around yours. you’d held hands before, curled up on the couch, laced fingers absentmindedly.
but this was different. this was him holding on like he needed to.
& then, barely above a whisper, he said, "i don’t wanna do this alone."
you squeezed his hand. "you don’t have to."
he let out a shaky breath, nodded, & for the first time, he didn't just let you help▰he let himself believe he needed it. he let himself accept the fact that he indeed, needs it.
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you finally got him into bed, though he agrued about not being tired. but the second his head hit the pillow, you could tell▰he was exhausted.
yet, he didn't sleep.
he just laid there, staring at the ceiling, breathing too controlled, too careful.
"you're thinking too much," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair.
he huffed. "i don't think that's possible."
you smiled. "wanna bet?"
he rolled onto his side, looking at you, with an unreadable expression. "what if i wake up in a panic again?"
"then i'll be here."
his brows furrowed. "you shouldn't have to deal with that."
"jason." you stroked your thumb over his cheek, soft(is what you thought when your hand came in contact with his soft cheek, & is what jason thought when his cheek came in contact with your soft hand.)
"loving you doesn't mean only staying for the easy parts. i want to be here. always."
he breathed slowly, like he was struggling to let himself believe you. maybe it would take time. but right now, he was here, letting you hold him, & that was enough.
he brought you closer still, his hand lying flat upon your waist, fingers just tight enough on the shirt to cling. "you're too good for me," he murmured against your skin.
"& you're an idiot," you whisper back.
a soft laugh rolled from him & lay warm across your collarbone. he drew a breath at last, uncoiling finally, his fingers tracing slow patterns on your back.
"thanks," he mutters after a while.
"for what?"
"for this. for staying."
you pressed a kiss to his forehead, holding him a little tighter. "like i said: always."
& this time, he let himself believe it.
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© minorlyatfault, 2025
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