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yanderedrabbles · 2 months ago

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Yandere Wild West Gang - Noncon

Your life is all planned out for you. Marriage. Children. Settling down in your little town and growing old. But a gang of outlaws and their wicked desires change everything.

Tags: (6) yandere males x fem reader, noncon, loss of virginity, choking, spitroast (hell yeah), oral fixation, 12.3k words

I blame the ridiculously talented @fangdokja and The Red Ledger for inspiring this btw.

They came for you in the middle of the day.

Shameless. Better men would at least wait for nightfall, would at least try and hide their intentions behind the cloak of darkness. Not them though.

They kicked the door in when your family was just about ready to eat lunch, the food still steaming and your ma still in her apron.

You didn't even have time to scream.

One outlaw smashed his rifle butt into your pa's temple and the old man was out like a light, still clutching the knife he'd grabbed to defend you. Two others grabbed your mother and shoved her into the pantry, blocked the door with a tipped over cupboard.

You ran. Or tried to at least. They were crowded into your kitchen, laughing as you turned from one to the other.

"No way out, beauty."

"Too late to run now, darlin'. Shoulda started before we even got here if you wanted to get away."

"Look at her all scared. Ain't it just adorable?"

With near identical duster coats and bandanas tied across their faces, you couldn't tell them apart.

They were closing in on you, a little at a time. You tried to fight, to pull away when one of them grabbed you. But they were dust bitten outlaws and you were just a rancher's daughter. It wasn't even a struggle.

The tallest one slammed you down on the kitchen table, his fingers digging into your shoulders and his belt buckle grinding against your ass.

Your mama's good milk jug tumbled off and shattered on the floor. That was what you focused on as they tied your hands behind your back and gagged you. The shards of blue and white ceramic in the puddle of milk.

Not their hands running over your hips, not their laughter. Just the milk and your ma's favourite jug all in pieces.

You could still hear your mother screaming for you when they pulled you outside. That was what hurt the most about that entire awful day. Your mama, pleading and begging and panicking and unable to save you.

Their horses were waiting, another outlaw standing guard with his rifle out.

"Boss, let her ride with me."

"With you? Ain't no way in hell my girl is riding with you."

"Your girl? She ain't yours. Boss, tell 'em she ain't his."

"Runnin' to the boss again? Yellow belly."

It was the tall one who settled the argument. His voice wasn't as rough as the others, but that didn't put you at ease in the slightest.

"She's riding with me."

He still had one hand curled around your upper arm and he pulled you towards his mustang. You dug your heels in as hard as you could, pulled back with all your weight. It just made him sigh.

"Ain't even started yet, and she's already being difficult?"

The outlaw that spoke was already on his stallion. All you could see of his face above the bandana was a pair of blue eyes, lined at the corners. The boss maybe?

"Just some...growing pains. She'll settle down soon enough."

The tall one leaned down and hoisted you over his shoulder. You squirmed and tried to kick your way free, but he kept one arm tight around your knees.

You thought all your panicking would frighten the horses, but no such luck. He tossed you across his saddle and climbed up behind you. The saddle horn dug into your belly until he pulled you into a proper seat, one arm curling around your waist. You could feel his chest against your back, every inch of it firm, hard earned muscle.

He dropped his head and spoke directly into your ear.

"No trying to jump off the horse. No trying to run away. I'm in charge of you until we get back and I won't have you hurt on my watch."

Your only response was to try and smash your head back into his nose. He straightened up just in time and all you managed to do was hurt your own neck.

He sighed again, and spurred his horse forward.

"Well, I suppose it this was easy, it wouldn't be nearly as fun."

The outlaws formed a loose ring around you as you rode. You tried to twist and look back, but your captor was holding you too tight. You didn't even get to see your home shrink into the horizon. Didn't even get that one small goodbye.

They rode for at least two hours, the sun climbing down from its zenith as they took you across rivers and down secret little paths. You knew your ranch and the area around it like the back of your hand, but even you were well and truly lost when you finally arrived.

It was a ranch, but there weren't any cows in the fields or corn growing in neat rows. The house was a big, whitewashed thing. Pretty once, but fallen into disrepair. Just a hideout. Not a place they stayed at for more than a few months.

The blue eyed one pulled you off the horse without breaking a sweat.

You could feel their eyes on you again. God, how many were there? Five? Six?

"You goin' first boss?"

The man looked down at you. He had a hand around your upper arm, but his grip was more firm than rough.

"I reckon I should. Can't trust you lot to be gentle or slow enough."

That made some of them jeer and complain.

"I'll be real sweet, boss. I promise!"

"We can be nice too. Really."

The man snorted. "Nice? I ain't never seen you dogs be nice 'bout nothing. I'll break our filly in. You lot just be patient and don't bother us none."

What were they talking about? You didn't have time to puzzle it out before the boss started pulling you toward the house. Seeing that building looming closer made you start fighting all over again, biting down on your gag and pulling back as much as you could. Like a mustang digging it's feet in.

It didn't last long. The boss leveled a look at you, met your eyes straight on.

"You really gonna be difficult with me, girl?"

Oh, what frightening eyes he had. Bright and clever, a blue so striking you could feel it right through your soul. A mountain lion would have eyes softer than his.

You stopped resisting him. Let him pull you along besides him. What else could you do? He had a gun on his back and a knife in his boot and years of experience wrangling stubborn animals. And you were just a girl out of her depth and far from home.

You didn't see it, but the outlaws looked at each other, impressed. Only the boss could tame a filly with a single look.

The house was much cooler than outside, but the boss didn't give you any time to examine it. Just guided you up the stairs and into a large bedroom. White curtains stirred in the breeze, the bedding neat and clean.

He locked the door behind you. A quiet click that made your heart race.

You jumped when his hands came to rest on your shoulders. You could hear the other outlaws outside, the clink of harnesses and buckles as they let the horses out to pasture.

His hands moved from your shoulders to your upper arms, squeezed.

"Do you know why we took you?"

You shook your head. Ransom, maybe? But your pa was just a run of the mill rancher. Surely there were better targets for quick cash than you.

The outlaw laughed quietly, just a soft breath of amusement.

"Not the faintest clue, huh?"

He let go of you and you heard the soft rustle of material as he shrugged out of his duster.

He turned you around and you finally got to see his face. He'd taken off his Stetson and bandana too, and the man looking back at you was a hardened outlaw in every way. He was a lot older than you, with thick blonde hair going to grey at the edges. Handsome, with a strong jaw covered in light stubble. Grizzled, but muscular and lean for his age.

There was a small, amused smile on his lips.

He kept his hands on your arms and guided you backwards, until your back hit the wall.

"You wanna take a guess? Why'd we ride all the way out to town to steal you?"

Whatever you said was muffled by your gag. He clicked his tongue.

"You're gonna have to use your worlds, darlin'."

He ran his thumb across your cheek, across the gag. "Or maybe not. I like you just like this too."

He was close. Closer than any man had ever been. It was terrifying. Tears spilled down your cheeks, running across your gag and soaking in.

He sighed, caught one on his thumb.

"None of that now girl. I ain't gonna be rough with you. And in time, I reckon you'll come to like it."

Your dress was buttoned at the front, all the way to your neck. He grabbed both sides of your collar and ripped.

You tried to jerk away from him, but he was too close and the only way out was blocked by the wall. Buttons scattered across the room with little plinks.

The only thing keeping your dress on was the fact that your hands were tied behind your back. But the outlaw didn't let that stop him for long.

He leaned down and pulled a knife from his boot.

"Don't squirm 'round and I won't cut you, alright?"

Sound advice, but not something you were about to listen to. You thrashed in his grip, twisting as much as you could. You didn't want that thing anywhere near you.

He grabbed your hair, and yanked your head backwards. You screamed into your gag, your whole scalp aching.

You might have continued fighting, but that's when you felt the cool metal of his knife at your throat. Not the sharp edge, but still enough of a reminder to keep you still.

"Good. Not so hard, is it?"

The knife moved away from your neck and to your sleeve. He slipped the blade between your skin and the fabric and yanked upwards.

Your sleeve tore with an ugly ripping sound, all the way down to the wrist. You whined into your gag, but he ignored you and repeated it on the other side.

He was breathing heavier now, even though the work of keeping you still couldn't have been much of a challenge for a man as strong as him. He put the handle of his knife in his mouth and used both hands to pull your dress off you. It pooled at your ankles, ruined.

You still had your chemise, but the thin white fabric was almost as bad as being naked. Your nipples poked through and he narrowed in on them, one hand coming up to cup your breast. His teeth were biting into the handle of his knife, hard enough to leave indents in the wood. Like a man struggling to control himself. He breathed out slowly, just feeling the weight of your tits in his palms.

You were crying so hard you almost couldn't see his face. A mixture of pity and want.

He kneeled down to put his knife away and stayed on his knees, hands coming to your hips. He looked up at you, blue eyes bright with something you didn't yet know how to recognise. Lust. Want.

His thumbs stroked circles into your skin, your chemise the only barrier between you and him.

"If I was a better man, I'd almost be sorry about this."

He grabbed your leg and hooked your thigh over his shoulder. You almost stumbled, forced to keep your back against the wall if you didn't want to loose your balance.

His fingers gathered your chemise from the hem up, pinning it at your waist with his palms. You were wearing stockings, simple white ones that reached your mid thigh, and plain lace garters.

All in all, it was a damn nice framing for your bare cunt.

God, he could practically feel his mouth watering.

He didn't give you any warning. Just slipped his tongue between your lips. Hot, wet, like nothing you'd ever felt. You tried to squirm away, practically tried to climb up the wall to get away from him. But he had you trapped, one massive palm on your hip and the other on your thigh.

He found your hole real easy. Slipped his tongue all the way in, the bridge of his nose grinding into your clit. You whined at him to stop it, to please just let you go, but with the gag, all he heard was a pretty little sound that made him keep going.

He sucked on your clit, his jawline standing out in sharp relief. His stubble scraped your thighs. So masculine, so unbearably, overwhelmingly manly.

With the way he held you still, you couldn't do anything except take it. Feel even inch of his tongue, feel his hot breath on your skin, feel his nails scraping your thigh. You wanted to hate it. You wanted to be disgusted by it.

But oh, it felt good.

Sometimes, when the neighbour's handsome son came over, you'd feel a little throbbing ache between your legs. This was exactly like that, cranked up to a thousand.

You whined again, and he must have been the Devil's own son, because he just doubled down. Swirled the flat of his tongue across your whole clit and then ran it down all the way to you ass.

You thighs were shaking, and the pit of your stomach felt tight with something your couldn't explain.

"That's my girl." He sounded pleased, smug. Practically cooing at you in his rough baritone. "Feels real good, don't it?"

If he didn't break soon, you felt like your whole body would. Something inside you was building, getting closer to the edge. And you were terrified of it. You breath was coming hard and fast.

Mercifully, he pulled away. Kissed the triangle of your pussy and then your inner thigh. You could feel his teeth against your skin when he smiled.

"Not yet. I ain't nearly close to done with you."

He stood and you weren't sure whether to be thankful or upset. You felt woozy, hot. Like heat stroke, or like getting drunk.

His mouth and chin glistened. He rubbed it dry on his palm, smirking all the while.

"I bet you feel real empty inside, huh sweetheart?"

You nodded your head, not sure where he was going with this. You did feel empty. There was a hot, throbbing itch in your stomach that you had no idea how to scratch.

"Aww, poor thing. I can take care of that for you."

His hands moved to his belt, blue eyes pinning you to the wall. When he smiled, there were lines around his eyes. They should have been comforting, a mark of someone who laughed often and laughed easy. They weren't.

You shook your head, pleading with your eyes. The tears were starting to come again, thick and fast. For a second or two, with his tongue deep in your core, you'd forgotten that he'd want something in exchange.

His eyes hardened, his smile not moving an inch.

"I will take care of it, girl. You can cry if you want, but we've come too far to stop now."

He grabbed your thigh and pulled your leg up, forced you back against the wall. Your whole cunt was wet and glistening with his spit.

Something hot and hard rubbed between your pussy lips. You shuddered, tried to move away. His other arm came around your waist and he pulled you against his chest. The smell of him was overwhelming - gunpowder and leather and whiskey. He smelled like a man. He smelled like your ruin.

Your forehead fell against his collarbone, and his chin came to rest on the crown of your head. The same way a father might hold his daughter after a nightmare.

But there was nothing fatherly about the cock nudging at your entrance.

"Shhh, you're okay. It ain't gonna hurt."

Liar. Terrible, heartless liar.

He pushed in and it felt like your whole body was splitting apart. It burned.

You sobbed into his chest, not entirely sure what was happening to you. This was the sort of thing that was only whispered about. The sort of thing that was kept vague for good, obedient girls until their wedding nights. The only thing you knew for a fact was that it hurt and you wanted it to stop.

He groaned, pressed a kiss against your hair.

"Sweet little thing, ain't ya? Gonna be good 'fer me? Gonna take it nice and deep?"

You couldn't answer. There was only the stretch of his cock inside you and the oppressive tightness of his arms.

He set a slow, drawn out pace. Cock pulling all the way out to the tip and then sliding right back in. You could feel every inch.

Not gentle, but not needlessly mean either. You were shivering in his arms, pussy fluttering like a heartbeat around him.

No one but him knew how fucking difficult it was to keep so slow. Tight, tiny little thing bleeding and crying all over him. Any red blooded man would want to rut into you like a stallion. See just how many tears he could wring out of you.

It was only experience and determination that held him back. If he was a younger man...

It was the right decision to have you first. Not even his second in command - that tall bastard with all the self control in the world - could have managed this.

He huffed out a laugh.

"You're little too young for me, doll. Reckon I could be your father."

He slid back inside you, grinding against your clit in a way that made you whimper.

"Shitty fucking father though. To be doing this to my little girl."

He let go of waist and cupped your jaw in his palm. Tilted your head back, his nose and lips skimming up your neck. You smelled so fucking good. Nothing in this world was as sweet as a needy, crying girl.

"You gonna call me daddy, little girl? Gonna beg me to be nice and let you go?"

You whimpered, a pathetic little sound through the gag. It only made him smile against your neck.

"Thaaat's it. Just take it. Let me break you in. Gonna be all stretched out and sweet when I'm done with you, yeah?"

He sucked at your neck, at the delicate spot where your shoulder started to slope away. A little immature maybe, to want to mark you up like an animal, but wasn't he being plenty mature already? Wasn't he being just saintly in his patience?

"Fuck, you're getting close, ain'tcha? Can feel you gettin' all tight."

He pulled back to look into your eyes, overflowing with tears and just so damn scared.

"You ain't got no idea what's 'bout to happen, do ya?"

He pulled almost all the way out, and then slammed back in, hard. Your tits jumped and your eyes fluttered shut.

"Just relax and let it happen. It's gonna feel reeaal good."

You tilted your head back and he followed you, lips right back at your throat.

He picked up the pace, trying not to be too rough and slowly failing. The closer he got to his own end, the less important kindness seemed. It wasn't long 'fore he was slamming into you so hard he could feel your tits bouncing. His breath was coming fast, each exhale almost a growl.

"Take it, just like that. C'mon doll, just let me fuck you. Just let me make you mine."

You bit down on your gag and came. Your whole body shook, your nails digging into your palms. You didn't now what he'd done to you, but you couldn't stop it. Your pussy was a clenching, sensitive mess. You felt light headed enough to faint. And the only sound and thought in your head was his voice, right in your ear and rough with barely held back want.

"That's my girl. My good fucking girl."

A good man might have slowed down then. Might have realised just how sensitive you were. He didn't. He kept pistoning his cock into you, fucked you through your orgasm.

You writhed on his dick, in pain and overwhelmed and more scared than you'd ever been. And all of it just served to make him harder, to bring him closer. Even he had to admit he was a bastard for enjoying it so much. He didn't deserve something so sweet. All he deserved in life was a short dance with a noose. But who gave a fuck about that? He'd taken you, he'd stolen you, and like any good thief, he was going to enjoy you.

You felt it when he came. His cock pulsed and twitched inside you, and something hot dripped down your thigh.

He pressed his forehead against yours, hands so tight on you that you felt bruised.

He came down slowly. Kept you plugged up with his cock while he softened. The only sound in the room was his harsh breathing. You couldn't even cry anymore. All you wanted was to close your eyes and sleep and make the pain disappear.

He pulled back and tilted your chin up.

"Look at me."

You opened your eyes, tears still caught in your lashes.

"There she is. Ain't so bad, is it?"

All you could do was sniffle and hope he was bored of you.

He let you down carefully. You weren't steady on your feet at all.

"I've had a lot of blood on my cock over the years, darlin', but I reckon yours is the finest."

He kissed you. You were still gagged, so it was less a kiss and more so his lips pressing against yours.

When he finally stepped away from you, you almost wanted him back. You sank down to your knees, too dizzy to stand.

"Poor thing. Too much to handle, doll?"

He ran his fingers through your hair.

"You did so good, princess. Now just stay so sweet, and the rest of this day will go a hell of a lot easier for you."

You were too out of it to figure out what he meant. You closed your eyes and heard his spurs jingling as he walked away. The door creaked open and then he was gone.

You might have tried to run for it, but you ached so bad that even the thought of it was painful. Your hands were still tied as tight as they were before.

You didn't notice the footsteps or the voices until they were right outside the door.

"So much for bein' nice. Boss left her a right mess."

"Better than you woulda done. Least she's still in one piece."

They came to stand in front of you, two men with their bandanas pulled down around their throats.

You recognised their voices. These two were the most quarrelsome of the bunch. They still had their gun belts on, both of them carrying revolvers. Gunslingers then. Every gang had them.

"Look at her already on her knees 'fer us."

"Why you cryin' pretty girl? Was the boss too mean with ya?"

You looked up slowly. Boots first - silver spurs, well worn leather. Then their belts. And finally, their faces.

One was dark skinned, a crescent scar on his cheek and his hair cropped short. He rubbed his jaw as he looked at you, a half smile showing pearly white teeth.

"Oh, would ya look at those eyes? A man could drown in 'em."

The other was tanned golden with the sun, his eyes a pale green. He was still wearing his Stetson, and his dark hair was long enough to brush his shoulders.

"Boss must be getting old. He left some of her clothes on."

That made the dark one laugh. "Nah, I reckon it's meant to be a treat just 'fer us. Like unwrapping a present on Christmas mornin'."

The green eyed one squated down in front on you and grabbed your jaw. His hands were rough from labour, and his callouses scraped your skin. Whatever he saw in your eyes made him smile, but it didn't have a lick of kindness in it.

"Look at that...Boss really did break you in, didn't he filly?"

He stood and pulled you up with him, hand still clutching your jaw.

"I reckon she's gonna be real sweet to us. Gonna be all nice and obedient."

The other one came to stand behind you, his fingertips brushing the nape of your neck as he moved your hair out of the way.

"That right, filly? You gonna be all sweet?"

The green eyed one nodded your head for you. His eyes had a certain cruelty to them that made you want to step away. He seemed the type to use spurs and whips both, and to use them often.

He let go of your jaw and focused on the rest of you. And oh, what a lovely sight you were. All tied up and crying, your tits just visible through your chemise. A little virgin about to loose the rest of your innocence to his teeth. A fucking vision, a fucking dream.

He pinched one of your nipples and rolled it between his fingers. Your thin chemise wasn't any protection at all.

"Sensitive, ain'tcha?"

You whined. Not sure whether to pull away or step closer.

The gunslinger behind you wasn't in the mood to be left out. As his partner tugged and played with your nipples, his hands came to rest on your waist. And what huge hands they were. You could feel the heat of him even through your clothes.

He dropped his head to the nape of your neck and inhaled, his nose buried in your hair.

When he spoke, his voice was a low rumble.

"What do you want?"

The green eyed one looked you up and down, weighing his options. Finally, he smiled.

"I'll take her mouth."

Your whole body went cold. He couldn't mean...

"Hmm. That's fine with me." His hands dropped from your waist to your ass, squeezing. "I want to have her from the back anyway."

They must have been in perfect sync with each other. The one in front of you stood aside and the one behind you pushed you towards the bed. You stumbled, landed on the duvet chin first, your teeth slamming together despite the gag.

You didn't have time to push yourself up before they were tearing your chemise off. The thin straps ripped and your last bit of modesty floated to the floor in a tattered white heap. You were left in just your stockings.

The dark one pulled you up by your hips, one hand grabbing the rope around your wrists to keep you steady.

Smack.

Your whole body jerked forward, your ass cheek stinging.

One of them laughed, mocking. "Bet that'll leave a mark."

The dark one ran his palm over the welt, smiling though you couldn't see it.

"We promised the boss we would be nice, remember?"

The green eyed one circled the bed. You could feel his eyes on you, drinking in your naked skin, your stockings, the tears soaking your gag.

His hands were on his belt. Not undoing it yet, just watching you.

"Y'know, I give that tall bastard a lot of shit, but even I gotta say he was right this time. She's a real cute thing."

The man behind you was still stroking your ass, squeezing and watching your flesh give under his fingers. So soft, so fucking pliable.

He hummed quietly, more concerned with you than with his partner. He slipped his thumb down between your cheeks, catching on your asshole for a second. That sent a jolt of panic through you. They wouldn't...

He must have felt you moving, because he sighed and let his fingers continue downwards. Smearing cum and blood across your pussy lips.

"Not today," he said, soft enough for just you to hear. "Boss wouldn't like that."

That wasn't reassuring to hear. It meant that he still wanted it. Wanted to fuck your virgin ass without any care for the pain, for the hurt. The thing stopping him wasn't empathy, but obedience.

He rubbed tight, harsh circles into your clit. You were still sensitive and you pleaded into your gag, asking him to be just a bit more gentle. Either he couldn't understand you or didn't bother to even hear you, because he carried on, fingerpads rough as sandpaper.

The green eyed one noticed though. He seemed to notice just about everything.

"Want me to take that gag off sweetheart?"

You nodded your head frantically. The sides of your lips felt raw and you couldn't stand the taste of it.

He kneeled with one leg on the bed and undid the material. When he pulled it away, thin lines of spit followed.

You sucked in a lungful of air, coughing. He gathered your hair out of your face, held it all in a loose fist at the back of your head.

"All better?"

Maybe you were wrong about him. Maybe he wasn't so bad.

"...yes." You swallowed, your voice still hoarse. "Thank you."

He tilted his head, smirking.

"So polite. Boss really did a number on ya, huh? Or are ya just a well bred little lady?"

You didn't get a chance to answer, because the other gunslinger ground his palm against your cunt. You yelped and jerked forward on instinct.

The green eyed one tightened his hold on your hair.

"None of that. You can take it."

"I can't! It hurts."

His free hand tugged at his belt, pulling it free of the belt loops. You blanched. What the hell did he need that for?

"Ain't even been a minute and you're already whining? C'mon pretty, there's better things to do with your mouth than that."

He let go of your hair long enough to loop the belt around your neck, the leather wrapped around his fist. He tugged and it tightened, metal buckle pressing icy cold against your skin.

He pulled upwards, forced you to look at him. His cat eyes were mean, amused at seeing you leashed.

"You even think 'bout usin' your teeth and I'll pull this so tight you won't even be able to think 'bout breathing. Got it?"

What was he talking about? Your teeth?

Your answer came soon enough. With his belt off, it was real easy for him to take his cock out. He sighed, relieved to have it free.

The only thing keeping you in place was the belt around your neck. Even still, you pulled backwards until you couldn't go any further.

It was huge.

Thick, with veins running all the way to the tip. That was supposed to fit inside of you? You'd never seen a man's cock before. Even when the boss fucked you, you'd only felt it. No fucking wonder it hurt so bad, if they were all this size.

It was horrifying, and still you couldn't look away.

"Ain't it a sight?"

He grabbed it with his free hand and yanked your head down with the belt, until the tip brushed your lips.

"Come have a closer look."

Maybe if your hands were free, you'd be able to pull away. But as it was, you were staying balanced only because of his grip on the belt and his partner's grip on your arms.

He rubbed the tip across your lips, leaving behind a sticky coating of precum.

"Don't be shy," he purred, "Give it a little kiss."

The belt tightened until you listened. You pecked the side of it, where it wasn't so gross and sticky.

"Atta girl. Now open wide."

You desperately didn't want to. He tasted of salt, and his cock was so hard that you couldn't even imagine how it would fit.

You didn't want to, but what choice did you have?

You opened your mouth and he pushed himself past your lips with a groan. The tip scraped against your tongue, soft as velvet and tasting like the sea.

He let go of his dick and tangled his hand in your hair, pushing your head lower. Until the tip brushed the back of your throat. You gagged, shivering all around him.

"God, your mouth is fucking heaven sent."

He pulled out slowly, until it was just the tip sitting in your mouth.

"Are you gonna join me or what?"

The other gunslinger snorted.

"Fucking impatient. You gotta treat a lady gentle on her first time."

You heard the rustle of clothing behind you, and the hand that was playing with your cunt came to rest on your hip, fingers digging into the flesh for a good grip.

Your cunt felt cold without his touch, but his fingers were quickly replaced with his cock. The head nudged at your entrance, hot enough that you could practically feel it radiating. The leaking pre mixed with the sticky come already on your lips, thin strands of white pulling and breaking as he settled himself against you.

You wanted to say something, anything, to make them stop, but the gunslinger still had his dick in your mouth.

"Hmmm. Nice and warm and I ain't even pushed inside yet."

"Ain't she? Like she was made for us."

His hand slid from your hair to you jaw, thumb tracing your cheek. He could see the bulge of his cock against your cheek - it made you look a little chipmunk getting all cozy and ready for winter. Your tears were caught on your lashes, silver dew drops like you just took a swim.

"You heard me, baby? You're made for us. Made to fuck us and keep us happy. Our little lady."

They both pushed into you at the same time.

Thick cock bullying into you, trapping you between them with nowhere to go. You wanted to scream, but you couldn't. You couldn't even think. Couldn't even breathe.

The green eyed cowboy pulled on your leash and forced you to tilt your head back, bare your throat to him. He pushed deeper into you, until his dick was down your throat and your nose was brushing the hard muscles of his stomach.

He held you there, cock down your throat and tears collecting in your eyes, while his partner started thrusting.

You couldn't breathe.

You couldn't pull away, couldn't fight him. You could just look up at him, eyes all wide and scared. Your panic was thick in your blood and he drank it in.

Smirking, keeping you at his mercy. He knew you couldn't breathe, and he still held you on his cock.

Your heart was racing and you felt light headed before he finally pulled out. You gasped, thick strings of spit connecting you. He only gave you enough time to catch a few deep breaths before he was back in your mouth, thrusting. Going just as deep but thankfully pulling out.

You gagged and choked and felt like you were drowning on his cock. And all the while, his partner yanked you back and slammed balls deep into you.

It was too much. You couldn't focus on anything. You were limp in their hands, letting them fuck you and just trying to survive it.

You weren't sure how long it took. Your whole world was narrowed down to just them - their hands on you, getting tighter and meaner the closer they got to coming.

The one fucking you from the back let go of your hip and curled his whole arm around your waist, leaning over you until his lips were on your neck. Fucking you hunched over like a dog in heat.

He bit your shoulder, sunk his teeth in with a snarl.

They didn't talk much anymore. There weren't any words left. Just the need to fuck and claim and come.

The sounds were the worst. The slick squelching of a cock in your cunt, the slap of skin on skin, the heavy snarls for you to take it like a good girl. And their raspy breathing, like stallions after a gallop.

The gunslinger pulled harder on your leash, keeping you still while he fucked your face. He's teeth were gritted tight, his eyes narrowed and focused entirely on you.

The dark one must have hit something deep inside you, because you made a whining, moaning sort of noise that vibrated all through his cock.

That was what did it. He forced his cock all the way down your throat, held you in place while he came.

When he pulled out, you were coughing so hard your whole chest ached.

That's when you felt it - hot spunk splattering all over your asshole. Your whole body shuddered at the feeling.

The man behind you kissed your back between your shoulder blades and slowly moved down. When he came to your ass cheeks, he sunk his teeth in with a playful growl.

He flipped you onto your back, and you sunk bonelessly down onto the covers. Your nipples were tender and your neck was a patchwork of marks.

The dark skinned one flopped down next to you and threw a possessive arm around your waist. He hummed, pleased as a bear before winter.

"Best fuck I've had in ages."

His partner was silent, his fingers toying with the belt still around your neck. You tilted your head back to look at him.

He was smiling, not soft exactly but about as close as a cruel bastard like him could get. He was so handsome, when he wasn't trying to choke you.

He sighed and let his fingers drift up your cheeks.

"I wish we could stay, pretty. But the day ain't done just yet."

The other one grumbled. "Can't we just lay here for a bit? I've got my girl all nice and snug. Why should I let her go?"

"Boss's orders, that's why. We gotta play nice and share."

"Why? Those bastards don't deserve her."

"And we do?"

He didn't bother to answer, just pushed himself to his elbows and looked down at you. His eyes were a deep brown. Sweet, almost.

"No," he said quietly, "We don't."

He leaned down and kissed your cheek. Soft, like a husband would. He stood and only looked back at you when he was at the door. Hard man, killer and gunslinger that he was, you thought you saw just a little guilt in his eyes.

When he was gone, the green eyed gunslinger ran his hands through your hair.

"He's right, y'know. We don't deserve a girl like you."

There wasn't any guilt in his voice, just a deep sense of satisfaction.

"But we've got you anyway. If the world gave folk what they deserved, you'd never have been so unlucky to catch our eye in the first place."

He leaned down and pressed a kiss against your other cheek, and then nipped at your jaw. A coyote savouring a bone.

"You'll learn to take it, sweetheart. And when I'm done, you'll learn to like it."

He left his belt around your neck and let the door slam shut behind him.

You could hear when they joined the others out in the yard. Their laughter drifted up to you, sharp as a wild dog's bark.

You closed your eyes. On your back in nothing but your stockings and a leash. It wasn't the sort of thing you'd ever imagined as a possibility. Hell, a lot of today was filled with things you'd never even thought about.

You hurt in just about every place. But parts of you throbbed with a pain that wasn't entirely unwanted.

Traitorous body, traitorous mind.

You couldn't possibly like this. You were being used by criminals, killers. Your virginity was just another prize for them to steal. You were a good girl, raised in a good home with upright, moral parents. You weren't some lady of the night, some harlot, to enjoy their roughness.

Right?

When the door sighed open, you didn't even bother to open your eyes.

"These young ones don't know any gentleness, eh beauty?"

His voice was calm. The sort of soft tone you'd use with a filly still nervous 'bout the bit.

You could hear his footsteps. Heavy boots but no spurs.

You flinched when he touched the belt around your neck, but he didn't do much more than run his fingers across the leather.

"Let's get this off you. Idiots. You don't harness a creature so fine."

He pulled it off your neck carefully and then touched the bruises it left behind.

"Open your eyes for me, beauty. Let me see you."

You almost didn't. What more was there to see? Another man with too tight hands and a hunger that wouldn't end?

It was his voice that did it. So kind. No growl behind the words, no clenched teeth snarl.

The first thing you saw were his eyes. A dark hazel, like an eagle's.

"Ah, just as pretty as I thought. Do you want to sit up for me? Those ropes must be hurting something awful by now."

He was older than you, but not by too much. Older than the gunslingers, but not nearly as old as the boss. His hair was tied in braid that fell almost all the way down his back. Lakota, if you had to guess, or maybe Crow.

There was a pair of workman's gloves shoved in the pocket of his jeans, but he didn't carry a pistol. The wrangler most likely.

You sat up slowly, wary. He didn't seem awfully worked up about a naked woman sprawled on the bed in front of him. Maybe he wasn't so bad...

He untied your hands without letting his own wander.

You flexed your fingers and carefully brought your hands to your lap. Your shoulders ached from being stuck in one position for so long.

"Will you let me go?"

"Oh, beauty." He touched his knuckles to your cheek. "That's what you want, isn't it? To go back home?"

"Yes." Your throat felt tight with tears. "More than anything."

He closed his eyes.

"It hurts to see you cry, beauty. It hurts to see these marks on you. But even if I was the only one holding you back, even if it was entirely up to me... I wouldn't."

"Are you going to do the same thing as the rest of them?"

He held your face in his palms, thumbs tracing your cheekbones. He smiled, but it was awfully sad.

"It's been real long time since I've had a woman, beauty. And never one so fine. I'm still just a man."

You were crying again, though you didn't realise it. Tears washing hot over his fingers.

"Shhh." He leaned down and kissed your forehead. "I'll be gentle. I won't hurt you."

He undid his belt slowly, eyes on you the entire time. You were on your knees again, your stockings making you look oh so innocent and oh so filthy all at once.

He grabbed your hand before he took his cock out. You pulled away, but his grip was too strong. Not rough, not hurting you. Just too firm to escape.

He brought you hand to his crotch, pressed your palm against his cock. Even through the thick denim of his jeans, you could feel how hard it was.

"All your doing, beauty. That's all your fault."

He undid the last button and his dick pushed it's way free. Big and no less intimidating for being the second one today. His fingers were knotted between yours and he dragged your hand up his shaft. He sighed, a man finally getting release.

"Here, this will go faster if you use your mouth."

His other hand came to rest on the nape of your neck. Not forcing you down exactly, but heavy, inexorable. Trying to refuse him was like fighting the pull of the moon.

He didn't force himself into you like the gunslinger did. Just kept using your hand - still dry - to stroke himself.

"Come now beauty. Just a little lick and it will all be over. You want that, don't you?"

You did. You wanted this day to end.

You cautiously licked the head of his cock, your tongue almost blistering hot. He groaned and for just a second, the hand on your nape tightened. Like he really did just want to pull you onto him and have his own way.

"There you go. Not so terrible, is it?"

It wasn't. He tasted salty, but not in an unpleasant way. And hearing him groan like that made some part of your gut flutter.

You felt just a little braver. When he pulled you closer, you let him. He rubbed the tip against your lips, smearing pre-cum all over them.

You didn't want his cock down your throat. Didn't want to feel like you were choking. But everything he'd done to you so far had been miles different to the gunslingers. Maybe he'd be different in this too.

Slowly, you opened your mouth. You expected him to shove himself inside you, betray the tiny bit of trust he'd built.

He didn't. Instead, he stood perfectly still. He even stopped using your hand, though he kept it wrapped around the base. Just letting you get comfortable. Letting you explore.

It was what your daddy did when he was working to tame a colt. He'd let them get used to him a little at a time, until they didn't mind his touch at all.

You were too nervous to take him in much deeper than the tip. But he didn't complain at all, just watched you with those golden eyes.

You sucked on him. Just the tip, but you wrapped your lips around him and treated it like it was candy. You flicked your tongue across the underside of his head, eyes locked on his to see if he liked it.

And from the way his breathing was picking up, you reckoned he liked it plenty.

Hadn't the gunslinger wanted you to kiss his? Maybe that's what men wanted. You pulled off his cock with a wet little pop and turned your attention to his shaft. You kissed him - small, shy little pecks all the way down to his hand and then back up again.

He was smiling, head tilted. He almost seemed amused.

"So that's how you like it, huh?"

You hummed, not sure how to respond. Both the gunslingers and the boss kept getting faster the closer they were to finishing. Maybe if you used your hand...

He seemed surprised when you moved your palm, but it didn't last long. When he was sure of what you were doing, he let go of your hand and let you do it all by yourself.

There was a lot of friction and you couldn't go as fast as you wanted without yanking on him. You needed some kind of lube, something to make him all slick...

Oh.

Of course.

You licked him, all the way from balls to tip, trying to drool on his cock as much as possible. He shivered, voice getting just a bit tighter.

"Careful girl. You're playing with fire."

You didn't know what he meant. All you wanted was to finish this. Be able to rest and dream sweet dreams, dreams without men's hands on your body.

His cock was wet with your spit and when you started using your hand, it squelched lewdly.

He groaned, his hand coming to your jaw and his thumb tracing your lips.

"Open your mouth for me, beauty."

You did. You couldn't look away from his eyes. That burnished gold like dead man's treasure.

He pressed his thumb against your tongue, ran it over your teeth. He seemed just as captivated by you as you were by him. The men outside were laughing again, voices raised and vulgar. But he didn't for a second look away from you.

He smiled and said something to you in a language you didn't understand.

Your hand was moving a lot faster now that you'd found your stride, your thumb brushing over his slit on every third stroke. The only sign that he was getting closer was his breathing.

At the last second, he pulled his thumb out of your mouth and rested his tip against your lips.

Hot spunk shot at you, some of it dribbling down your chin and some of it coating your tongue. He groaned, jaw clenched tight. He was panting like a dog on a hot day, still looking at you like you were the finest thing he'd ever seen.

He pulled his cock away and replaced it with his thumb, smearing his load between your lips and across your teeth. He spoke in his language again, words just a little more forceful than before.

You thought he was done with you. Thought he'd be satisfied with leaving.

Instead, he leaned down and kissed you. One hand was still on your nape and you had no room to pull away.

It was your first proper kiss. He was hungry, his tongue scraping across your teeth. One hand came to rest behind you on the bed, and he slowly forced you down, still caught between his lips and his hand.

He ended up between your legs, still not letting you go even though you were both almost out of breath.

"Beauty," he muttered, lips pressing against on yours.

When he finally broke away, he didn't go far. He rested his forehead to yours, breathing hard. You were sharing the same air, in that tight little space. And somehow that felt more intimate than anything else the outlaws had done to you.

He was practically lying on top of you, the hand that held your neck now tangled in your hair, and his other at your waist. He held you like a lover would.

A lover. Would you ever have one, if they let you go? Who would want you after your virgin's blood was spilled?

He kissed your cheek, slow and lingering.

"Oh beauty, how can I be so lucky?"

He didn't let you go. Just held you underneath him and laid his head on the side of your neck.

You were tense, muscles all coiled and ready to be hurt. But in his arms, you relaxed a little at a time without even realising it. This man wouldn't hurt you, whatever his reasons were.

His dark hair had come loose from it's braid and you absentmindedly brushed it off his brow. That made him smile just a little.

It had grown quiet outside and the only sound was of the breeze rustling the curtains and his soft breathing.

"How did such a kind man become an outlaw?"

You didn't really mean to ask that. And kind couldn't be applied to him without qualifiers. But in the face of everything that had happened to you, his softness was saintly.

He hummed against your neck.

"Bad luck. Bad people. Having nowhere to go back to. It changes you."

You swallowed, sad though you weren't sure why.

"I'm sorry."

He pushed himself up and looked into your eyes.

"Don't be. You're my reward, my reparation."

He brushed his knuckles across your cheek again. "I've waited my whole life for you."

You wanted to ask why. What made you so special? Why did he want to keep you?

The door opened with a bang.

"Are ya really still busy? That ain't fuckin' fair."

The gunslingers were standing in the door, both of them looking irritated. Your whole body tensed. They couldn't be back so soon, could they?

The wrangler pushed himself to his knees. The way he was sitting, your hips ended up on his lap with your legs on either side of him. He put a hand on your thigh absent-mindedly.

When he looked back at them, any softness in him drained away. He was just another outlaw with hard eyes.

"Is it the boy? Boss is really letting you go through with it?"

"It's 'bout time he became a man. And you're the one who was goin' on 'bout playing nice."

The wrangler sighed and looked back at you. When he spoke, it was just for you to hear.

"I don't want to leave you, beauty. But boss's orders."

He leaned down and kissed you, ignoring the gunslingers' cat calls.

When he stood up, you had half a mind to ask him to stay. You almost reached for him. But the gunslingers were watching you and something in you whispered that showing him favour was a terrible idea. You kept your hands knotted in the sheets. For both your sakes.

When he was gone, you sat up and pushed yourself all the way back to the headboard. Hugged your knees to your chest. You hadn't noticed him earlier, but the gunslingers had a boy with them.

They were half dragging him into the room, one with his hand on the boy's nape and the other with a fist in his shirt.

He was young, barely past eighteen. Slightly built, with pale eyes and bronze curls. He wasn't looking at you. Or more accurately, he was doing everything possible to avoid looking at you.

The gunslingers gave him a rough shove and he landed on the bed, bouncing a little before he pushed himself up.

"Gonna get your first taste of a woman boy, and she's a real fine one."

The green eyed gunslinger leaned over and grabbed your ankle. With one brutal yank, he dragged you away from the headboard and all the way to the foot of the bed.

"Missed me, sweetheart? 'Cause I sure missed you."

He caught one of your wrists and tutted.

"Just like him to let you loose. Fuckin' hell, don't he realise how much easier you are when you're all tied up?"

He knelt with one boot on the mattress and pulled you up, twisting your arm behind your back so you ended up with your head tucked under his chin.

"We was feelin' real bad 'bout hurting you, pretty. So we thought we'd make it up to you. Brought you somethin' you'll really enjoy."

You were skeptical of anything he did. He wasn't the charitable kind.

The boy finally looked at you. His eyes were round, nervous.

"Do... do you want this?"

The gunslinger slapped a palm over your mouth before you could answer him, dragging you closer to him at the same time.

" 'Course she wants it. She'd be fighting a whole lot harder if she didn't. Ain't that right?"

"Would be clawing our eyes out if she really didn't want it," the other gunslinger agreed.

The boy looked rightly skeptical. You were crying an awful lot for someone who "wanted it."

"But..."

The dark skinned gunslinger sighed and grabbed the boy's neck.

"Look at her. You're tellin' me you ain't getting just a little hard seeing her like that?"

"Yes but -"

"But what? You want her. And she's right there for the taking. It ain't complicated."

The man holding you was obviously getting impatient.

"You wanna be a man? Wanna come on jobs with us? Than fucking earn it."

That seemed to decide him. He crawled towards you, just as scared to touch you as you were to be touched.

"What do I do?"

"Open her legs and start eating."

He touched your knee. He gulped, focused entirely on the feel of you. He slowly let his hands drift up your thighs.

When he reached your mid thighs, he tried to pull them apart just a little. You kept your legs as tightly closed as you could. Whatever you tried to say was muffled by the gunslinger's hand, but it was enough to make the boy look up at your face.

You could see it in his eyes. The desire to have you and the horror at knowing this was all forced. In the end, guilt won.

"I can't."

He pulled away from you, his fingers shaking.

"She doesn't want this. How can you hold her down and make her take it?"

The dark skinned gunslinger clicked his teeth in annoyance.

"God, could you be any more pathetic? It don't matter what she wants. All that matters is that you're strong enough to take what you want."

The boy was almost off the bed when the gunslinger grabbed his hair and yanked him back.

"It's a lesson you gotta learn boy. Or you ain't gonna live long in this business."

The boy yelped, hands coming up to try and pull himself loose. You could have told him it was useless - you couldn't escape their hold no matter how hard you fought.

He dragged the boy across the bed and back to you.

The gunslinger holding you could see where this was going and he laughed, mean and mocking.

"Gonna be the hard way, eh?"

His hand dropped from your mouth and curled around your throat. He squeezed, just hard enough to remind you of his strength.

"Be a good little pet and open your legs."

You didn't. Hadn't they done enough already? They'd ruined you. Why not just leave the boy alone?

The gunslinger growled. "Ain't listening so well without my belt around your throat, is that it?"

He twisted your arm further up your back, until your whole shoulder was throbbing. You squirmed, arching against him to get the pressure off.

"Do I gotta teach you a whole new lesson in obedience? I promise I'm a much harder master than the boss."

He let go of you throat and grabbed your thigh, his fingers digging into the meat. His partner was quick to do the same on your other leg. It wasn't any good fighting them. They weren't scared of hurting you and they didn't care if they left bruises.

They wrenched your thighs apart and the gunslinger shoved the boys head between your legs.

"You ain't scared of a lil' blood, are ya? Clean her up nice and good."

The boy looked up at you with tears brimming in his waterline.

"I'm sorry."

He didn't have the boss's skill. His tongue was soft, hesitant. Probing, but totally unsure what to do.

You shivered at the feeling of his lips on your clit, his warm breath tickling your thighs.

The gunslinger growled and pushed him further down, until his nose was grinding into your folds.

"She ain't gonna get away. Use your whole tongue, suck on her, bite. Fuck's sake, do we gotta do everything for you?"

The one at your back laughed and nipped your cheek.

"She wants it though. Just look at those pretty tears."

The boy whimpered but did as he was told, dragging his tongue all the way up. His hands came to rest on your thighs, skin so much softer than the other men's.

His teeth brushed your clit and you gasped. The boy froze.

And then, he did it again.

You shuddered, thighs shaking just a little. He didn't seem to notice it, but his grip on your legs was getting tighter. He focused on the sensitive spot he'd found, raking his tongue across it.

You made another small, involuntary sound.

The man at your back purred. "There. Ain't that sweet to hear?"

The boy started to suck on your clit, tongue hot and wet. He pushed himself deeper, his nose and chin both buried in your cunt. He didn't even notice when the gunslinger let go of his hair.

He curled his arm around your lower back and pulled you closer to him, almost lifting you off the bed. The wet sounds of his sucking filled the room.

The gunslinger let go of you thigh, satisfied that the boy had a good grip on you. He kissed the corner of your lips, his hand coming up to play with your tits.

"Y'know, we never did get to make you come. Can't help wonderin' what you sound like."

You kept your jaw clenched tight. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction.

He must have read your mind, because he chuckled. Pinched your nipple hard enough that you bucked in his grip.

"Oh, you're going to come for us. Ain't that right boy?"

The boy muttered something and went right back to eating you out. You could feel the same heat in your belly as when the boss had you. Like a band about to snap. Every little move was too much, every flick of his tongue on your clit was somehow more intense.

You squirmed, trying everything you could to get him off. The boy ignored you. Just held on a little tighter and pinned you thigh to the bed.

"Please," you whined. "It's too much."

The gunslingers snickered at that.

"Poor darlin'. Does it hurt real good?"

"Don't fight it. Just let it happen. No one will know except us."

"And we're real good at keeping secrets."

The extra mean gunslinger pressed his cheek against yours and looked down at the boy between your legs.

"Don't tell me you're shy. We're real well acquainted by now, ain't we?"

You hated when he spoke to you like that. All sweetly condescending.

The boy wasn't letting up. Just kept sucking your clit and dipping his flexed tongue into your hole, switching from one to the other like he couldn't get enough. Like you were water in the desert and he'd drop dead without you in his mouth.

You fisted the duvet in your free hand, trying to distract yourself. No good. Your body had wants and needs of its own.

You could feel it building and there wasn't anything you could do to stop it.

You threw your head back and bit your lip, but it still wasn't enough. Small whines and gasps slipped through.

Your cunt was clenching, your whole belly a warm knot finally coming undone. It felt better than good.

It felt fucking incredible.

The boy didn't seem to notice. He just kept at it, even though your clit was swollen and aching and bright with blood.

The gunslinger noticed though. You could feel him smiling against your neck.

He tugged at your earlobe with his teeth and then kissed all the way down to your shoulder.

"Maybe we ought to be nicer, if that's what you sound like."

"Like a fox in a trap. Whinin' so nice 'fer us."

Your whole body felt like you touched lightening. And the boy's tongue was the worst if it.

"Please, enough. I...can't..."

The dark skinned gunslinger leaned closer to you, smiling in a way that wasn't nice at all.

"You're so sweet when you beg, filly. Ask politely and I'll get him off you."

You swallowed your pride. What was left of it after today anyway? They'd seen far too much of you for you to hold onto false modesty.

"Please. It's too much. Just make it stop."

Maybe it was your voice or maybe it was your tears or maybe he was just feeling merciful after emptying his balls inside you. He grabbed the boy's hair and hauled him up.

The kid's lips were red and swollen, his whole jaw slick with spit and spunk. He looked dazed, eyes still on the spot between your thighs.

"I'm not done yet. Can't I just..."

"Ain't complaining now, are ya? You see why we went through all that trouble for her?"

He was still holding onto you and he made a half hearted tug to get you closer to him.

"Five more minutes. Please."

The gunslinger scoffed. "You think just 'cause you had a taste you can make demands?"

He pulled the boy's hair and dragged him off the bed. His jeans were bulging at the crotch and his eyes never left you.

"But you said -"

"We said that you'd get a taste. Nothin' more."

The gunslinger holding you spoke up, his lips still pressed against your shoulder.

"You gotta earn it boy. Our girl ain't gonna be wasted on some greenhorn."

"Gonna have to make do with your fist, like the rest of us had to."

When the boy was off the bed, the gunslinger let go of your arm and shoved you forward. You landed on your forearms, your body sprawled in front of him.

He planted a hard smack on your ass and leaned over you, lips brushing your hair.

"You'd better dream about me sweetheart. Better feel me in your mouth when you close your eyes."

His fingers swiped across your cunt, rough and probing. You winced at the feel of him.

"Or else I'll just have to fuck you so hard the memory is burned into your mind."

You looked over your shoulder, eyes catching his for just a second. Long enough to realise he meant every word of his threat. He smirked, satisfied.

He stood and grabbed the boy by his upper arm. Together with his partner, they bundled him out the door. Business all finished, eh?

You sagged into the bed and watched them leave, your cunt still pulsing when you moved. You were exhausted and you looked it, too tired to push yourself up.

A hand caught the door before it closed.

Another one? How much more were you supposed to take?

The newcomer nudged the door back open and stood there for a minute, watching you. He had a bowl of water in his hand, a wash rag thrown over the side.

You hadn't seen his face before, but you recognised him. The tall, well spoken one who made you ride on his horse.

He was dressed better than most of the others. A black, silk waist coat and a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. A silver cross dangled on a chain around his neck.

It made you want to laugh. What God could he worship, when he was a sinner so black?

"Hello dove."

You didn't answer. Just watched him with your cunt fluttering and your lips bruised.

He was the palest out of them all, skin more like a scholar's than a cowboy's. He had black hair, as long as the gunslinger's, but tied back. He was probably Chinese, but born on this side of the Pacific. His accent was almost the same as yours.

He walked towards you slowly. Not nervous, but more like he was worried about spooking you.

He put the bowl of water down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, half facing you.

"It must hurt."

You stayed quiet. What did he know of hurt? He wasn't the one being held down and fucked.

He nodded at the bowl. You hadn't noticed it, but the water was a milky white.

"That's to clean you up. I reckon they left a few more cuts and scrapes than they intended."

You found your voice. Smaller, meeker than you remembered.

"Why do you care?"

"You think we don't care?"

You blinked. Of course you thought that. What else was there to think? They were outlaws who took you to satisfy themselves for an afternoon or two. What more could there be?

He laughed, but it was a bitter thing.

"Oh, qīn’ài de. If we didn't care, you'd still be a free woman."

You didn't understand what he was getting at. He sighed and reached for your ankle.

You jerked away. You didn't want to be touched ever again. Not by a man, not by anyone.

He sighed again.

"Don't be difficult. I want to help you."

"Why?"

He was quiet. Just watching you with his dark eyes. There was something familiar about him, though you couldn't tell what.

Finally, "You don't remember me."

You were in no frame of mind to care about his feelings.

"No."

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his forehead resting on his knuckles. Like a man at prayer. He turned his head a little to speak to you.

"It's been a long time, but you saved my life once."

You frowned, totally blank.

"You were still just a girl. Thirteen or fourteen maybe. I'd just turned twenty, part of a gang for the first time and too damn cocky."

He rubbed the skin just above his thumb. There was an ugly scar there, the skin still raised and puckered after all these years.

"Our heist went wrong. Sherrif and his deputies were waiting for us. I got shot. Not so bad that it would kill me, but bad enough that I couldn't make it home."

You couldn't see where this was going.

"Ended up in a barn, bleeding everywhere. I heard footsteps and I thought for sure I was done for. That the rancher was going to blow my brains all over the wall. But it wasn't him that found me."

You sat up slowly and ended up on your knees, your back to him. You thought you understood now, but you let him keep speaking.

"Wasn't him, but his daughter. Dropped the milk when she saw me but she didn't scream. Just came over and asked how she could help me. Me. A wanted man who'd just killed six deputies."

You didn't know that part of the story. All you remembered was the hot summer sun slanting through the cracks in the barn, and the young man bleeding out in the hay. You remembered him digging the bullet out and asking you to stitch him up, his face going all pale.

You closed you eyes and it was like you were right back there, hiding him in the hayloft and telling your pa the blood on your dress was from killing a chicken.

"Why did you do it?" he asked.

"Because you looked scared. And because I was a little in love with you."

That probably wasn't the answer he was expecting. You pulled in a shuddering breath.

"You were older than me, but still so young. The most handsome man I'd ever met. You told me you got shot by mistake, and not to tell anyone because it would get your little brother in trouble."

You could hear a smile in his voice.

"And you believed me?"

"Yes. Why would you lie to me? Outlaws were just a thing from stories. And I suppose I wanted to believe you. You told me I was going to be really pretty someday, that you'd have to come back and marry me. No one had ever said anything like that to me."

He hummed. "You really thought I was handsome?"

"Yes."

He still was, but he had none of the sweet, boyish softness you remembered. He was handsome in a hard, dangerous way. Diamond rough. You could cut your skin on the sharpness of him.

"But what does that have to do with anything? Why...why do this to me, if you owe me your life?"

He sighed and reached for you. He hooked his arm around your waist and dragged you onto his lap.

"I kept checking in on you over the years, do you know that? Every time I was near your ranch I'd ride out and look for you. Always watching."

"Why?"

"I felt like I owed you. I wanted to make sure you were fine. And when you got older...well, I just liked looking at you."

You shivered. There was something in his voice, a longing far deeper than anyone of the other cowboys'.

"Will you let me go when you're done?"

He sighed and tucked your hair behind your ear.

"Maybe that would be the merciful option. But we aren't merciful men."

He pulled your head onto his shoulder when you started crying.

"You're going to stay with us, qīn’ài de. For a very, very long time."

"Why now? Why..."

His hand was soft in your hair, his voice even softer.

"You're young, lovely, a rancher's only child. How much longer 'til your pa started to consider marriage? And who would come knocking on his door? No, I couldn't loose you to them."

"You're the one..." you tried pulling away but he kept you still, head against his shoulder.

"Me," he agreed, "I'm the one to blame for this. And even knowing that, I wouldn't take it back."

"The others..."

"Brutes, aren't they? But they're my brothers. And once they saw you, they wanted you too."

He said he couldn't loose you to another man, but that didn't make any sense.

"If that's true, why did you let the others..." You swallowed, not sure how to go on.

"Why did I let the others have you first?"

You nodded. He played with the cross on his necklace. Finally, he spoke.

"Because I want the most time with you."

He pulled away to look at you and you realised how wrong you were. It wasn't that he didn't feel any lust for you, it was just that he hid it far better than the rest of them.

But now... oh, his was the worst you'd seen. Boiling hot, on the end of its tether. This was a man who wanted you. Who'd spent years wanting you.

He laid a palm on your thigh.

"They got you for an hour each maybe. But I'm going to have you all night."

#Poly yanderes #Yandere Cowboys #Yandere Wild West #Yandere outlaws #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #reader insert #x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x you #yandere lemons #yandere noncon #male yandere #yandere x darling

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alexiroflife · 8 months ago

Text

jjk men calling you annoying...

"hi! ik u have a few reqs to do and ur going on vacation but i was reading some of ur works and saw u did a headcannon for calling jjk men annoying. i was thinking what if u did the opposite w the jjk men calling reader annoying? if u dont decide to do this thats okay! cant wait to eat up your other upcoming fics <3" -anon

some angst, jjk men being assholes (except for nanami)

satoru, suguru, kento, choso, toji, sukuna

satoru gojo:

normally, satoru is the one that is considered to be annoying. every higher up, coworker, and student of his alike would agree that satoru’s personality is pestering on its own, for his behavior doesn’t align with the severity of the jujutsu world in the eyes of others.

satoru has never cared how others judged him, for he often takes to picking on others for the sake of getting a reaction. he enjoys lightening the mood of drab situations, therefore he’s tossing around inappropriate jokes during meetings, teasing utahime for the umpteenth time, or trying to force megumi into spending quality time with him while the sixteen year old does his best to pretend he doesn’t know him in public.

and with you, he’s far worse. satoru can not bear being away from you or your attention being focused into anything other than him for longer than two minutes, and he’s always making an excuse to abandon whatever he’s doing to be by your side. satoru is the very definition of clingy, and while everyone finds it annoying, you can not deny that you adore how the strongest glues himself to you as though he can not bear for the two of you to be parted.

those around him believe it’s impossible for someone as annoying as gojo to actually be annoyed by anything, but you know what pisses him off. you know that he can not stand the jujutsu higher ups and how they antagonize children who were given no choice but to live the lives they lead. he can not stand the way they order him around to carry out unfavorable tasks with no regard for his past experiences or the experiences of the students that he is meant to monitor. he can not stand the lectures, the judgmental tones, the expectation of respect when it is not given in return.

and he can not stand when he is forced to attend hearings or meetings with them, where he has to listen to them drone on and on about how irresponsible he is when satoru is the only one truly looking out for the good of all groups. they demand so much of him, yet treat him like trash in return. nothing peeves him off more.

he knows that you understand this about him as a jujutsu sorcerer yourself, but you have the tendency to be more tolerant of injustices than he is. what he means is that you know how to save face for the sake of your own sanity and pay the elders no mind whilst simultaneously making them think that you are in cooperation with them. you know how to feign manners and respect, which satoru does not bother to do.

consequently, when you tell him that the upcoming meeting that he has scheduled with the higher ups is one he should attend instead of skipping due to its level of importance, he can’t help but be irritated with you.

“i’m just saying, satoru,” you say into the speaker with your phone pressed to your ear. the blue eyed man is on his way to said meeting after you practically forced him to attend, and he’s not at all happy about it. “once you’re in there, you’ll be out in no time.”

“(y/n), somehow those pricks make a half an hour feel like two,” your boyfriend complained into the phone. you place your hand on your hip and look up to the ceiling.

“you’re being so pessimistic about it,” you sigh. “it’s gonna be worse the worse you talk about it.”

“no, it’s gonna be bad regardless because these higher ups don’t know up from down or left from right.”

you can tell he’s growing aggravated, which was the opposite effect you wanted this call to have. you lower your head and attempt to shift, to reassure him in a different way.

“it’s gonna be okay, toru,” you tell him. “you’re above these people anyway, no matter what the hierarchy at this school is-“

“if you really thought that, you wouldn’t have made me go.”

you frown. “you didn’t really have a choice with this one, you know that right? whether you like the assholes or not, the meeting itself is important. you need to be there.”

“i really wish you’d stop saying that,” he exhales, agitatedly.

“stop saying what?” you scrunch your face, hand falling from your hip. “that it’s your responsibility?”

“yeah, actually,” he snaps. “hell, you’re starting to sound just like everyone else.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you scoff. “satoru, i’m just trying to help you. sometimes you just have to suck it up and deal.”

“suck it up?” he repeats incredulously. “i suck it up every day of my life. everyone wants me to do something for them, but expects me not to have my own opinions in return and that shit doesn’t make any sense.”

“that’s not what i’m trying to say-“

“then what are you trying to say? to just go along with all the messed up shit the higher ups want me to do?”

“no.”

“then what?”

“to just attend a meeting for the sake of your job, satoru. my god, that’s all.”

he tchs, and you can imagine him rolling his eyes on the other line. “fine. whatever.”

“what’s with your attitude? i’m genuinely just trying to look out for you, like…?”

“you’re not helping, (y/n). you’re being annoying.”

his words sting, and you stand still in the hall to your classroom as you register satoru’s tone and accusation. there’s silence, and satoru knows that when you say nothing more, he’s crossed a line.

even so, he’s too heated currently to own up to it in this moment, so he lets the silence swallow you both as he walks.

“okay,” you mumble apathetically after a while. “bye, satoru.”

you hear him prepare to say something, but your thumb is already hiding the end call button.

throughout the next half and hour, you try your best to focus on teaching your lesson to the second years, but you find yourself struggling.

you understand satoru’s frustrations with the higher ups, but to take that frustration out on you is completely uncalled for.

and to call you annoying? for ensuring that he doesn’t further endanger his already shaky position with the the authorities over him? how ungrateful is that! how could he label you as a disturbance to him when all you’ve ever done was try to lighten his load?

you don’t understand it. and it hurts to know that one little thing in comparison to the plethora of clingy annoyances that satoru has the habit of displaying that you don’t even find aggravating is enough to send him over the edge.

you’re aggressively erasing your chalkboard at the end of your lesson when you hear the sound of air flushing and papers fluttering behind you. immediately, you feel satoru’s presence much to your displeasure.

“baby?” he calls you tentatively, though you already know full well that he is there in your vacant room. you don’t reply, continuing to swipe your eraser over the chalk. “baby, please don’t ignore me,” he sighs guiltily. “can i… can we just talk?”

“get out, satoru.”

you can physically feel Satoru’s mannerisms droop behind you, but you do not fall for it. he deserves your standoffishness, your unwillingness to engage.

“i just wanna talk, (y/n)… just five minutes?”

you clench your jaw, brows angling tensely as his earlier words run through your mind again and again. your pace picks up and your movements grow harsher.

before you know it, you feel the white haired man brushing behind you inches away, reaching a hand to your shoulder. “(y/n)?”

“stop!” you rip away, stepping back. satoru retracts his hand quickly, crystal eyes blown wide as he watches you. you slam your eraser down onto the ledge and hold your hands up. “just stop! you don’t get to be rude to me and then just come back around as if everything’s okay. what if I don’t want to talk to you?”

having removed his blindfold before coming here, you can see the pain and remorse circling in his gaze. “pretty, i didn’t mean to say what i said,” he starts again slowly. “i-i’m sorry, i was just overstimulated and angry- not even at you, and you were telling me to do something I didn’t want to do but had to do, then i…” he huffs. “i’m so sorry.”

you fold your arms and stare harshly at the board, brows twitching as satoru’s smooth, genuine apology flows through your ears.

when you still don’t say anything, satoru’s mouth tugs downward and his lashes fluttere prettily over his cheek. “it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk to me or see me right now. i was being shitty, and i didn’t mean it, baby. i just had to come and tell you that as soon as the meeting was over… and you were right. i needed to be there.”

you close your eyes. “why don’t you ever listen to me?”

satoru practically jumps when he hears you speak. “what did you say?”

“you never listen to me, toru,” you look at him desperately. “you always do what you want to do, and when i have to make you do something, you pout. is what i say really that unimportant to you?”

“no,” he rushes out, swooping in to stand before you so he can meet your eyes up close. “no, no, no. no, that’s not it.”

“then what is it?”

“i listen to you, baby. i do, i just struggle when you give me suggestions about work because we have completely different approaches. you play by the rules more and i do what i think is best even if it’s not what I’m told is best. which is okay. i’m not saying that either way is better than the other, it’s just that difference between us clashes sometimes.”

you hum.

“but that doesn’t mean i don’t listen, or don’t respect you, (y/n). i respect you more than anyone i know.”

“then you should act like it.”

“i know,” he pushed out his bottom lip, taking your forearms in his hands. “i know, i can be all over the place sometimes. i’m sorry pretty girl.”

you wish you could stay angry, but satoru’s touch almost instantly melts away the tension in your body. almost.

“please don’t call me annoying like that again,” you look over him. “seriously, that wasn’t nice.”

“never,” he swears. “i promise, never again. i don’t even know why it came out in the first time. please forgive me, baby, I’m sorry.”

you exhale, and before you can respond, satoru is ducking down and suffocating your face with a plethora of kisses from your forehead to cheeks and down to your jaw. murmurs of apologizes slip through as he attacks you, and you squeal as you try turn away.

“okay!” you shout, pushing at his chest. “i forgive you, get off!”

“i love youuu,” he lands a particularly long kiss to your nose. “so much. let me take you out tonight to apologize properly, pretty. will you let me?”

you stifle a smile, keeping your hands to your chest as you glare up at him when he pulls away with a grin. “fine.”

suguru geto:

suguru loves you dearly, truly he does, but he notices that the longer he is in a relationship with you, the more entitled you become. granted, he spoils the hell out of you because you’re his one and only, therefore he only feels it is appropriate to shower you with the unconditional love that he has for you.

you know that suguru rarely ever says no to you. hell, he doesn’t want to deny you of the things you ask of him because he should be the person that you always come to for anything. along with his girls, you’ve stolen his heart, and his love language is taking care of you - making you rotten.

so when suguru can not abide by what you demand, you pout and poke and prod and pester. in some ways, you remind him of how satoru used to behave in his company, so commanding of what you want from him in the most combative, brattiest way that it has him rubbing the space between his forehead with angled brows.

and the attitude on you is criminal. suguru knows he can not necessarily talk because his attitude is just as bad, but the moment suguru disagrees with you about something, you make it a point keep pressing the matter sassily.

there are a million things that suguru finds to be more of a pain to his peace than you, but he can not deny that when you get on his nerves, you truly tick him off.

suguru is known to have very little patience in general. he chalks it up to his occupation, having to deal with idiotic human beings all day to the point where it wears down his capacity for bullshit. he needs things to resolve themselves at his pace in order to feel as though he can go about his day, but when they don’t, it frustrates him to no end.

that is why when you fail to give it a rest after suguru has told you no four times now to getting lunch with you because he has business to take care of, he is beginning to lose his cool.

“(y/n),” suguru exhales your name in exasperation. he’s on his way out of the front door. “angel, you know i’m busy today. you’re usually a lot more understanding when it comes to my schedule, i don’t know where the disconnect is right now.”

you’re growing upset, for you’ve never enjoyed watching suguru leave, but for some reason you are feeling all the more sensitive to his departure today. the dark haired cult leader has been so busy lately that you and the girls have hardly been able to catch him for longer than five minutes when he’s home. you want to sit and talk with him, to at least have a quick thirty minute meal together, but he’s still refusing you, and you never fair well with being refused by geto.

“but suguru,” you curl your brows and gaze at him sadly. “I’m just asking for one day. that’s all, we don’t even need to be out long. i already have a place in mind that’s right around the corner from the group- i can even pick you up. you won’t have to worry about a thing. please, just this once?”

the hazel eyed man can not stand saying no to you, even more so when you look at him with such pleading in your eyes, but he’s told you a hundred times that he can’t do what you please today. as much as he’d love to go to lunch with you, there are no exceptions. he’s already pushing himself behind by trying to reason with you.

“the answer is no, (y/n),” he tells you with soft sternness. your frown deepens leading Suguru to walk over to you. he guides his hand to your waist and presses a kiss to your forehead in an attempt to make you feel better. “i’m sorry. i know things haven’t been the best lately with me being home, but i’m trying my best.”

you want to be more supportive, but you miss suguru. you do, and to feel like a second priority to a cult he doesn’t even like makes you upset.

you grumble incoherently under your breath and cross your arms. suguru feels your stature shift, and he pulls away to eye you. you avoid his gaze purposefully, and suguru instantly knows what’s going on with you.

“don’t start,” he advises as a warning. you don’t take well to the comment, the muscles in your face tightening as you go to ease away from suguru’s grasp. he doesn’t have time for this right now. “i mean it.”

“i’m not even doing anything,” you murmur, looking down as suguru examines you closely.

“you’re sulking.”

“okay, and maybe that’s because i don’t want my boyfriend to leave?” you snap.

“i know, (y/n). you’re acting like i want to leave too, but this is work.”

“and clearly work’s more important now,” you roll your eyes.

suguru shakes his head and pulls away with narrow eyes. “you’re being incredibly irritating right now.”

you freeze, geto’s words stabbing you through the chest like a stake to the heart. “what?” you repeat weakly, your grit having gone.

“you aren’t listening to me. it’s getting old and it’s irritating,” he says again, this time as he turns away and walks back to the door.

you stare at his back blankly. your heart hammers against your chest, and your face falls. normally when you behave a certain way that suguru doesn’t appreciate, he spends his time either circling back and trying to reach and understand or punishing you. but now, he’s just walking away with no intention of doing either. you expected more, and you hadn’t expected for him to outright call you annoying.

sure, you push a little too much sometimes, but annoying? all you want is him. is it annoying to desire such a simple thing?

“i’ll be home later, alright? we can talk about this when i get back,” he tells you, pulling the door open and allowing the sunlight to peer in. when you do not respond, he speaks again in annoyance. “alright?”

you still don’t answer, and this time he turns over his shoulder to see what is keeping you from giving him a verbal affirmation.

his face relaxes, however, when he says you standing silently with your hands at your sides. your gaze has turned to one of subtle embarrassment as you frown, mulling over suguru’s emotions in a less stubborn, more deflated manner.

despite suguru’s irritation with you, the moment he sees your discomfort, he’s flipping the switch in an instant.

slowly, he shuts the door again without a word. he figures it won’t hurt anyone to be another five minutes late, for he is the founder of the religious group after all. what he says goes, and he will not leave until this mild conflict with you is sorted out.

he walks over and takes your head in his hands, tilting your face up to reveal your big, shiny eyes. with another quiet sigh, he’s taking one hand and rubbing your shoulder as he holds your stare.

“i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he tells you gently, immediately knowing what is plaguing you. “i’m just frustrated.”

“…frustrated with me?” you ask slowly.

he presses his lips together. “yeah, angel. i am a little bit,” he confesses honestly. while this isn’t the response you wanted, geto knows it’s the response you need to hear… even if you struggle to accept it, your head nodding stiffly but your eyes telling a story of humiliation. and he hates it. he hates how unhappy you look, but no good has ever come from partners lying to one another about how they feel.

“but,” you start as suguru’s swipes a thumb over your brow lovingly. “suguru, all i wanted was to have lunch with you. is that such a crazy thing? you’re hardly around anymore.”

“i know, (y/n), and no it’s not, but you’re not respecting the fact that while i want to more than anything, i can’t. not today,” he says once more. “i do this for you and the girls too, you know. it’s not just for me. any money i make is yours, and if i need to work my ass off to provide for you and our future, i will. and it’s not fair for you to throw a fit when i can’t drop all of that when you ask me to.”

it’s a hard pill for you to swallow, but you know that suguru’s point is more than valid.

you inhale and exhale deeply, his touch swarming you tenderly despite how he feels. “I’m sorry,” you apologize. “im sorry for pushing. i just want you here. it gets hard sometimes, you know?”

“I know.”

he pulls your face in to kiss your cheek softly, your hand going to cradle his wrists.

“and i’m sorry if you’ve felt neglected in any way, and for calling you irritating. there was probably a better way for me to say that.”

“it’s okay,” you mumble as pulls away. “i probably was being annoying anyway...”

geto smiles softly. “you were,” he chuckles, and you gap at him.

“suguru,” you frown and he laughs again.

“sorry.” the hazel eyed man leans in to capture your lips in a soft kiss before you can pour any longer, eyes gleaming kindly when he draws back. he at least does not look aggravated any longer, his features much calmer than before. “how about a day out this weekend? you, me, and the girls.”

your eyes light up. “really? you’re sure?”

“yeah, angel,” he nods. “i miss you all too, you know. you’re all i think about when I’m dealing with those monkeys all day.”

“…can we maybe go to the farmer’s market?” you suggest. “i wanna get some stuff to make a big dinner for us, and the girls want to get some flowers.”

“absolutely we can. sounds great.”

“thank you,” you smile, wrapping your arms over his neck and tugging him down into a tight hug. suguru laughs gently, sliding his arms around you. “i hope you have a good day today. i won’t pester you about work anymore.”

“okay, baby,” he rubs your back. “I gotta go now, okay? i’ll try not to be out late. i love you.”

“i love you too.”

kento nanami:

despite kento’s remarkable talent in serving you as your partner, he is still a human being subject to human emotions. when he’s annoyed with you, he doesn’t make it your problem. he simply makes it known that he is beginning to be plagued by the feeling, and though it hurts your feelings, you understand and give him the space he needs.

kento does not get irritated with you often at all. you are a gift upon his stressful life, and it’s difficult for you to pose as a source of stress when the rest of his life is already so anxiety-inducing. you’re his everything, and even when he does get ever so slightly annoyed with you, it’s never at the same level as other factors - like gojo. you don’t even begin to compare.

the only time nanami finds himself growing upset because of you is when you choose not to listen to or communicate with him.

nanami works hard to put your needs before his own and he is more than happy to do so. he feels it is the only way things should be, for as long as you are happy and well cared for, he is content.

however, there are moments when he does so that can come off to you as a tad overbearing. he cares for your physical and mental wellbeing, so that also comes with constant check ins about whether you’re eating properly or how much sleep you’re getting. it’s sweet, his persistent doting, but you don’t always fair well with how often he’s interrogating you about your lifestyle when he literally witnesses every second of what you do as your fiancé.

and of course, when you react poorly by getting even the slightest hint of an attitude or portray your own annoyance in a poor manner, nanami, who always tries his best to find a solution to problems if you are bothered by something, is bothered himself when you do not cooperate.

nanami is incredibly patient with you, and he tries his best to practice patient with you when he internally feels you are being unreasonable.

so he resorts to silence as he ponders what to do next. you’re both sitting at the kitchen table as tension swirls about. your knee is frantically bouncing as you glare ahead. you don’t like when kento does something to bother you, for everything he does is so perfect you feel like you don’t have a right to be bothered, and you rarely ever are. and you may try to hide when you’re upset, but nanami sees you so clearly. he knows you like the back of his hand, therefore, there is no hiding.

and of course, nanami would never grow annoyed with what you feel… it’s how you communicate with him when you feel a certain way. you shut down and make it impossible for him to talk through it, and as someone who likes to work through things while they are occurring, it’s a bit of a pain when you go quiet and refuse to give him anything.

now, you both sit rather annoyed with one another, for that is likely the only instance nanami will feel some sort of irritation sparked by you. the blonde taps his finger against the table with his legs crossed, unsure of how to move forward. he’s tried calling your name, tried asking you what’s wrong, tried suggesting anything he can do to fix it, but you, afraid to even further speak truth into your emotions, reply with shrugs and mute shakes of your head.

it takes at least another few minutes for nanami to rise slowly, fixing the collar of his shirt and clearing his throat you look up and see by his rigid posture that he is not in the happiest of spirits, and when you finally notice, you realize that he had been silent along with you for quite some time now, his series of questions having ceased.

“i am going for a drive,” he announces formally. you blink up at him, your knee still bouncing. his chocolate eyes meet yours with a hefty sigh. “i won’t be longer than forty minutes.”

forty?!

“…okay,” is the very first word you have said in a while, and nanami nods curtly. though he appears indifferent, his shoulders are tense, his jaw is taut, and a dent creases the space between his brows. you can tell by these signs that he has grown to match your previous feelings. “where are you going?”

“to clear my head. i don’t believe anything productive will come from the both of us sitting here like this.”

you furrow your brows. “are you angry with me now?”

“no,” he gathers his keys. “i am not angry. only, admittedly, a bit perturbed,” he says without looking at you.

you know that nanami had annoyed you first, but to hear him tell you so is humbling nonetheless. what reason does he have to be annoyed? what did you do?

“um,” you stumble. “why…?”

the prospect of you now trying to interrogate him after he had spent so much time trying to get through to you, or at least a word out, does very little to ease the man.

he lifts a hand, guiding his palm out to ease the conversation before it can escalate. “(y/n), i’m not in any state to talk about this right now. give me a bit and i will be back.”

his eyes find yours to ensure that you see that earnest in his brow hues, and your shoulders slump, your knee stilling completely.

“is that alright?”

you nod slowly. “yes. that's alright.”

kento nods again, swiping up his jacket from the back of his chair before stepping out of the door, clicking it shut behind him.

you reel in his absence, sitting in the aftermath. maybe you reacted poorly… but you couldn’t help it. you don’t always enjoy being overwhelmed with a series of questions from your boyfriend as though he is your doctor or father. sometimes you just wish to be.

you know he only does so out of concern. you know he loves you, better than anyone has ever loved you, but your reaction had been involuntary.

the look on nanami’s face only proved that you should have handled the situation differently. you hate when he’s upset, but that way of thinking alone is unfair. he likely hates when you’re upset too, and you shut down when he was trying to help.

as guilt swarms you, you retreat to the living room where you mindlessly flip through the tv channels, your focus elsewhere.

kento ends up returning hardly twenty minutes later. you look in surprise to the door as he enters with takeout in his hands. he looks up, his face a bit more relaxed as he enters.

neither of you speak as he kicks his shoes off at the door and makes his way toward you. he sets the bags of food down on the coffee table before you and slowly sits down next to you, hands to his thighs.

“i got us dinner,” he says as you shuffle to make room for him. the aroma of your favorite thai food fills your senses and makes you become rather aware to your hunger, for you haven’t eaten in a while.

kento sits with his forearm resting on his knee, his body facing you. you look away, embarrassed to even speak to him, though you do whisper a ‘thank you’ that is only audible to nanami because he is seated right beside you.

he reaches a hand out to hold yours, his other sliding over top to caress the back of it. “honey,” he starts softly. “I don’t want this to go on longer than it should.”

“you’re back earlier than you said,” you mention, looking down at his hands over yours.

“i didn’t need to be gone long to want to sit down with you about this again.” you nod. “are you okay?” he asks you, and you nod again.

“yeah, are you?”

“i’m better,” he answers. “my intention was not to leave on a bad note so abruptly. i just needed a moment to myself.”

“no, i understand, ken. i don’t blame you for taking a step back.”

“are you okay with me telling you why i was upset?”

“of course i am.”

he gives a gentle smile before proceeding. “it seems that every time i try to work through something with you, you do not wish to cooperate. if you were to tell me that you need space before explaining, i would understand better and give you time, but you say nothing. you barely even look at me, and i try my best to give you the patience you deserve but you do not do the same for me.”

“it’s not that- I wasn’t trying to be impatient with you, it’s just that sometimes i don’t want to talk about things.”

“then I would prefer it if you’d say that instead of shutting me out, because then i’m left to pick up the pieces with nothing to go off of,” he pleads. “and it’s unhealthy for you to harbor everything that bothers you inside. you could get sick doing that, and it hinders our communication.”

you can tell he is about to give you another lecture, which is what led you here in the first place. you take in a deep breath and try to regulate yourself, glancing down. “yeah, i hear you,” you mutter. “i just get… i don’t know, it feels weird to tell you when something you’ve done bothers me.”

“why, sweetheart?”

“because you’re so good to me,” you frown. “you don’t deserve to hear that i’m upset with you for probably no reason.”

“look at me, honey.” you oblige, locking eyes with his once again shyly. “as good as i am to you and you are to me, getting angry or upset or irritated with one another is normal. it’s healthy. no relationship is free of trials, and if this is our worst problem, i’d confidently say that we are doing quite well.”

you listen to him carefully, taking in his words as you look over his face.

“now, will you tell me what it was i did to upset you earlier?”

“it’s so stupid, ken.”

“your feelings are not stupid. please. i need to know so i don’t repeat my mistakes.”

you huff and eventually give in. “well, sometimes... you do this thing… where you lecture me… and i appreciate you looking out for me all the time, but sometimes when you ask me a hundred things at once about stuff that I’m more than aware of as an adult, it makes me feel like you’re patronizing me.”

a stern look of realization crosses the blonde’s features. “i had no idea.”

“i mean… i never told you, so i was getting upset with you for something you weren’t even aware of,” you exhale. “i’m really sorry, kento. I struggle with communicating certain things, and i shouldn’t have allowed myself to get so irritated in the first place.”

“there’s no need for you to apologize,” he dismisses. “i apologize for making you feel as though I’ve been speaking down to you. i only check in so often because i care.”

“i know,” you lean in. “and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“but i can see how it may be a bit overbearing,” he admits. “i’ll try to mind myself in the future.”

“oh, it’s okay, ken,” you lift your hand to his cheek, smoothing a thumb over his cheekbone. “you’re perfect, baby. i’m sorry if i made you feel otherwise.”

“i am far from perfection, my love,” he kisses your inner palm. “i make plenty of mistakes.”

“so do i, clearly,” you chuckle.

he smiles again, and this time it reaches his warm eyes. “yes, but the way i see it, you would not be perfect without them.”

choso kamo:

choso, bless his heart, has never found anything you do to be even remotely close to what he could find annoying. everything you do in his eyes is perfect, flawless, and he clings to you so much that he finds it impossible to think of your actions or words as something that poses as an aggravation to him.

what he finds irritating is when yuji will borrow his shirts without asking and fail to return them for days, or when he’s been assigned on a mission and it lasts far longer than he intended to be there, the task cutting into time he could be spending with you, or even when other people serve as a nuisance to you. you have never, ever been on the list of things that get on his nerves, and he doesn’t think you ever will be.

that’s why he feels such guilt when he starts to feel that familiar sense of annoyance bubbling in his chest when you keep asking him to let you know about his plans for the weekend.

you’ve asked him numerous times at this point, and he has given you the same answer: he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing with his brother or when he’ll be home, and that he’d let you know as soon as he figures it out. but you know that by the time he ‘figures it out’ it will be past the time you need to plan around his absence.

you’re an organized person, and you like to know in advance what is happening in your boyfriend’s life so that you can either prepare to spend some time with him or not waste the effort looking forward to doing so if he will be out late. this is especially a big deal to you because choso tends to get carried away when spending time with his little brother. the brunette loves his family so dearly, and you have always admired how fiercely he cares for those close to him, but his tendency to just go along with whatever yuji’s hyper mind thinks of on the spot without having the sense to think of how it will impact his brother’s girlfriend yet always gets to you.

you want choso to spend time with his brother, you do, but you just wish that he would have the decency of letting you in on what he plans to do on the days they are together more often.

therefore, it is friday and you continue to ask him to let you know what the plans are, and choso, still not completely understanding of what you want, is growing tired of the nagging.

“i already told you, love,” he reasons as best as he can with you, his voice dipping lower. “i don’t know how long we’ll be out. i promise you i’ll let you know.”

you’re moving about the kitchen while choso stands at the corner, eyes heavy as he watches you. he’s trying his hardest to mask his growing agitation, for he knows that you are very keen on picking up on his tells that reveal his emotions. when he’s aggravated, his brows angle ever so slightly and his lids weigh over bored vision, his lips curled in a frown.

you haven’t looked at him yet. your back is to him as your rummage through your fridge. “yeah, cho, you said that already, and you say that every time you go out,” you close the fridge door, carton of eggs in your hand for you to prepare lunch.

“and i always come back,” he says, shrugging slightly. “I don’t understand what the problem is… i’d never stay out all night without coming back.”

“it’s not about you coming back or not, it’s about when you come back,” you try to explain, placing the eggs on the counter to turn and reaching to grab a bowl. “i’ve definitely talked about this before, right? sometimes i stay up for you or want to hang out with you when you get back, but you never give me an estimated time when you’re with your brother so i can plan around it.”

choso exhales through his nose slowly, looking down. “the point is that if i knew, i’d tell you…”

you look up, catching the dipped pitch in his tone, and tilt your head to the side upon taking in his stature. he’s pouting.

you stop what your doing, pressing your hands to the ledge of the other side of the counter and leaning over with a suspicious look.

“are you alright?” you ask slowly.

choso meets your eye, a hint of a deer in in headlights look capturing him. “yes,” he says stiffly, quickly, and you are not convinced whatsoever.

“you sure? because your face says otherwise,” you nod toward him.

conflict is pretty foreign to the two of you within your relationship. neither of you ever want to upset the other, so in tiptoeing around certain issues, a lot of them are either brushed over and pent up. choso specifically things it’s damn near a sin to be upset with you, and you him, for he still does not understand certain inner workings of human connections.

he does not want to ruin what he has with you, and he does not comprehend why he is growing annoyed with someone he cherishes so much. he still loves you, but he can’t help this feeling. it burdens him with guilt, and he does not know how to respond once you catch him.

“is something bothering you?” you ask carefully. “are you upset because i keep asking about this weekend?”

choso doesn’t respond. he feels like it’s a trap, for he would never lie to you but to admit that he’s annoyed is an entirely different ball park that he is horrified to step into. he looks at you shamefully, face still tense but he’s trying hard to relax, to mask the way he truly feels.

you raise a brow. “…choso?”

“i’m fine,” he tells you. once again, he’s answering far too quickly.

“okay,” you exhale, shifting on your feet. choso watches you anxiously, keeping incredibly still as though moving will make the earth shatter. “I know you really well, cho. clearly the conversation is bothering you.” after another moment of silence from your boyfriend, you continue. “you can be honest with me, or else you’ll just be carrying this around with you all day.”

“…i don’t wanna upset you,” he eventually murmurs.

“I understand, but that’s not realistic,” you say with subtle sternness in your tone. “just like it’s not realistic to pretend like you aren’t upset right now when i can clearly tell you are. we both have rights to feeling whatever we feel, so just… come on, tell me what’s going on.”

with a pensive expression, choso slowly allows himself to give in. “it’s just that…” he begins hesitantly. “i’m not really sure what you want me to tell you anymore. about my plans.”

“i'm not asking anything out of the question, i just want you to plan more for my sake.”

“but i keep repeating myself when i tell you that yuji and i don’t plan… it’s a little…”

“it’s a little what?”

“just… kind of… annoying.”

you reel, staring at choso incredulously. you never thought you would have seen the day where your sweet significant other, horrified of touching you the wrong way, would call you annoying. admittedly, you’re a little wounded. you haven’t done anything wrong, and yet choso is aggravated by your desire to simply know what time he’s coming home. you’re not asking for too much. you hardly believe you’re asking for anything at all. you know that choso can be irrational, but never with you. never like this.

you nod to yourself slowly, pursing your lips. choso eyes you carefully, uncertain of how his own words have landed. you wanted him to be honest, and this is how he’s feeling. should he have just lied? should he have kept it to himself anyway?

suddenly, you resume what you are doing and turn away from choso wordlessly. the violet eyed man’s eyes widen as you go searching for a pan, and air of intensity about you.

“(y/n)?” he says your name cautiously after a while of you shuffling about. “you okay?”

“it’s cool,” you respond shortly, and choso shrinks.

he moves to round the counter to approach you slowly, but you do not slow yourself when you notice him moving into the kitchen beside you. “i don’t think it is…”

“choso, i know how you feel now and that’s that. i’ll leave it be.”

you sound mad. choso doesn’t like it at all, and he’s unsure of how to even speak to you this way. he doesn’t want to further ruin your mood, but he has to make sure you’re alright… that he didn’t cross some sort of line.

“i’m sorry,” he hastily apologizes. “I wasn’t trying to make things worse.”

“don’t apologize for what you feel,” you strictly say, moving to the other side of the kitchen the second choso gets close to you.

he stops, his traces of annoyance having completely washed away. “but you’re mad now.”

“i’m not mad, i just- i’m a little annoyed too now.”

he deflates. “oh,” he mumbles, hands falling to his sides. “then, what do what do now?”

you exhale, taking a moment to pause and turn to face choso from the other side of the space. “i wanna talk about why i’m irritated.”

“okay… and that won’t make it worse?”

“no, because i’ll at least be getting my point across.”

he nods dejectedly. “alright. why are you upset?”

“because you won’t take a second to put yourself in my shoes and understand that planning for my sake now that we live together will help ease my anxiety,” you explain, your hand moving about as you emphasize your stance. “i don’t care how long you and yuji are out. that’s not the point, and i know you don’t plan, but I’m asking you to at least start to, because i get tired of falling asleep waiting for you because i don’t know when you’re coming home. if i knew in advance, i wouldn’t have to stay up or get my hopes up about you coming back at a certain time. and then you tell me that i’m annoying you because i just want to be informed. like, that’s a little rude, choso. it’s basically like you saying you don’t care what i ask for.”

“i do care,” he cuts in passionately, brows knitted with a look of guilted sadness. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know it was like that for you.”

“because you never bothered to ask.”

“i’m sorry,” he says again. “i shouldn’t have called you annoying. that was mean. you just… told me to be honest, so i said what i was thinking.”

“that’s another thing, choso, we’re not perfect. we’re people and we react to things differently. this isn’t the last time we’ll be annoyed with each other.”

“i don’t like that,” he grumbles.

“we don’t have to like it, but that’s just how things are. it doesn’t mean we love each other any less, and we’re not always going to agree on why we’re annoyed with one another.”

“…are we fighting?”

you scoff a slight, tired laugh and shake your head. “no, we’re not fighting. we’re just talking.”

“okay,” he nods. “well, i’m sorry. i am. i’ll try to do better about planning for you. and you’re not annoying, (y/n). i love you.”

you soften. “i love you too, cho, just please be more mindful of how you react sometimes.”

“i will,” he mumbles. “…can i… i mean, is it wrong to ask you for a hug or do you need some time?”

“come over here,” you beckon him over. the brunette is quick to comply, stepping heavily over to you and burying his face in your neck. you wrap your arms around his frame as he holds you, murmuring numerous apologies to you over and over in your ear.

“maybe i’ll just stay home,” he suggests, mumbling into your skin.

“you don’t need to do that, cho, that’s not what i was asking of you.”

“i know, but i’d rather stay in with you anyway. or maybe we can make it a group thing if you want to come with.”

“i’ll see how i feel this weekend, but that’s sounds great, baby. thank you.”

toji fushiguro:

toji has a habit of getting caught up in his stress accumulated from the day. he’ll return home grumpily, muscles twitching and lips tight in a scowl. his back aches and his head hurts, and all he wants to do is crawl up into bed with you and snooze for the rest of the night.

of course, this isn’t always plausible. life presents its daily interferences that throw off his plans of laziness with the woman he loves, and sometimes, the woman he loves herself is the very thing standing in the way of his tranquility.

you don’t do so on purpose. while toji leads his life of chaos and crime, you busy yourself with your own less illegal tasks, and those tasks and your desires by the end of the day don’t always match his. and toji, despite how wholly he loves you, has the unintentional tendency to be selfish, for it’s how he’s lived his whole life before meeting you.

and that tendency especially shines through when his mind is clouded by exhaustion. if he wants you to lay still with him for the rest of the night, why can’t he? why the hell do you have to run out to the store instead? or finish up an assignment that takes an extra hour and a half to complete? or try to talk to him about your day when he just wants peace and quiet in your wordless physical presence?

it ticks him off, and he’s already moody enough before he comes home to realize that he is not going to get what his mind and heart have been set on for hours. he tries his best not to take things out on you when he is in a healthy, normal conscious state, but he can not help it at the worst of times. before he knows it, he’s snapping at you all because you wanted to show him an album of pictures you came across during your visit to your parents today.

“oh!” you gasp excitedly, leaning into toji’s shoulder as you lounge with him on the bed, your phone presenting itself to his face. you’re propped up with your back to the headboard while toji is laid flat against the pillow with a sour expression. “and this one is from halloween when i was eleven! holy shit, look at my braces! damn, they really threw off the whole costume. i still look cute though, don't i?"

toji doesn't know how you haven't noticed his lack of response as you swipe through photo after photo, your voice a blabber of nonsense in his ear as he closes his eyes in vexation. he can feel himself nearing his last straw as you shift your entire conversation enthusiastically, diving into some story about your family that is hardly related to the pictures you have been sharing.

the dark-haired man is so tired, so fed up with noise and the questions you ask him that you do not even wait for him to respond to before you're cutting in and rambling on again - not that toji even would have responded.

he just wants to sleep... you're still going on, and he wants to sleep.

"and then there was the time that i-"

you're interrupted by a loud groan and the run of toji's large hands down his face. you falter, lowering your phone and furrowing your brows at him slightly, your smile dwindling upon finally taking note of toji's body language.

silence stills the room while toji keeps his hands concealing his face and you simply watch him, stunned.

"uh..." you start pensively, confused. "...why did you just-"

"for the love of christ, girl, can you be quiet for one second?" he interjects once more with the tear of his hands away from his face and the strike of his weary, tense eyes into yours.

you jump. "what?" is all you can ask, awed by the way your boyfriend just spoke to you.

"i had a long day, (y/n). the fuck don't you understand about that?"

your face is scrunching in offense now, your body retracting and your energy transitioning into dejected anger. "toji, why the hell are you talking to me like that?"

"cause you've been workin' my last nerve since i got home," he grits out, tense hands swiping the air. you stare at him with wide eyes. "i'm fuckin' tired. i don't wanna come home to you talkin' my ear off about shit i don't care about. just let me sleep, alright?"

you clamp your mouth shut, a lump forming in your throat and a pit swirling in your chest as you take in toji's hurtful words. his face is hard as he awaits a response from you, and you can do nothing but look at him pathetically, completely torn apart by how swiftly he had made you feel as though you are a burden to him.

you had not meant to interfere with his rest time. you thought he was resting by sitting cozily in bed with you. you thought that he would enjoy seeing pictures of you from the past, hearing about old memories that you revive for the sake of his enjoyment. hell, you would have enjoyed it if the roles were reversed and toji was sharing his childhood memories with you after a long day (if of course, his childhood had been a bit more positive).

you understand that you may have misread the situation, but there was no need for toji to be so cruel to you about it. you hate when he gets like this, so rigid and ruthless with his tone and his words that it makes you feel as though he wants nothing to do with you.

you fight the urge to cry, your body tensing as you swallow hard. you tear your eyes from toji's face, the vision alone scarring you as his words seep in. the green-eyed man watches you shut off your phone swiftly and tuck it carelessly into your pocket with a scoff.

he quirks his brow in befuddlement now as you push yourself off the mattress and cooly whisk yourself around the furniture and to the bedroom door. he pushes himself up, for he didn't want you to leave. he just wanted silence.

"where're you goin'?" he asks as though you have no reason to storm off. you halt in the doorway, whipping your head over your shoulder to glare at him with glassy eyes.

"to give you your space," you hissed. "after all, i don't want to 'work your last nerve' any more than i already have."

toji can tell by the glossiness of your gaze and the tremble of your voice that he fucked up. he sighs heavily, swiping a hand over his hair. "i ain't mean it like that-" he tries to defend himself, but you have none of it.

"sure you did, toji. or else you wouldn't have said it," you growl. "it's fine. really. you can be an asshole all by yourself while i'm gone. maybe you'll be able to sleep now that your girlfriend is out of the way."

you leave with a slam to the door, the walls shaking in your wake, and toji stares at the wall harshly. the overwhelming silence now envelopes him, the silence that he had been longing for since you started talking, and now that he has it, it doesn't feel right.

he curses to himself, scratching the back of his head. he shouldn't have snapped at you. all you had been doing was sharing something close to your heart with him, and he completely blew you off. it wasn't as though you were the source of his stress - it was his job, yet he reacted in such a way to make it feel as though you were the problem.

fuck. toji knows he has issues with regulating his anger, but he continues to swear that he will work on leaving you out of it, and yet here he is again, mulling over the after-effects of dragging you into his acidity once more.

he's not even tired anymore. he tries to doze off, but all he can think about is your face and how he hurt you.

when he steps out of his room, he finds that you are nowhere to be found in his apartment. he tries calling you, but you don't pick up. he resorts to texting you, asking where you are. you read the messages, but refuse to answer, ensuring that he knows you're pissed off.

he shakes his head and goes to check your location instead, which he is grateful to find that you haven't shut off. he knows you too well. you want him to chase after you and apologize, to put forth the effort that you at times feel he would not extend for your sake.

toji finds you at a bar around the corner, your chin propped in your hand as you stare ahead over the counter emptily with an untouched drink before you. you're slumped in your seat with your phone tucked under your hand, appearing so sad before him, and toji feels his heart ache knowing that he's the reason you look like this.

"go away," you grumble when you see his bulky figure approaching you out of the corner of your eye, not even bothering to look his way. the fushiguro leans his forearm against the counter beside you with his other hand propped on his hip. he tilts his head down to try to catch a glimpse of your face, and you simply turn away stubbornly.

"c'mon doll," he attempts to coax. "don't be mad."

"don't fucking tell me not to be mad, you dick."

toji drops his head. bad start. "listen," he begins, unsure of how to proceed. he has never been good with finding words in these situations. "i shouldn't've said what i said."

you turn to scour at him. "no shit."

he wants to chuckle at how angry you are, for you start cursing up a storm the way toji does on a daily basis, and he finds it rather endearing how quick you are to violate him with your language when he gets on your bad side.

toji doesn't realize that the skin beneath his eyes is creasing a the corner of his lip is tugging upward, for you're gaping at him and smacking his chest rather aggressively. "you think this is funny?"

"no, (y/n), i don't think it's funny," he chuckles, and you fume. you go to slam a few bills onto the table before jumping up from your stool and storming away. toji panics, reaching out and snatching up your arm in his grasp. you're tugged back to him against your wishes, fiery (e/c) hues seething into him as though you seek to kill him with your gaze. "stop, i'm tryna talk to you for a second."

"clearly you think my feelings are a joke to you, toji."

"i don't think that, doll, you know that."

"do i?" you raise your brows. "i wasn't so sure when you talked to me like i was nothing but a nuisance to you."

you go to tug away, but toji holds you to him, looking into your eye intensely. "you ain't a nuisance."

"then why talk to me like that?" you frown. "i wasn't even doing anything to hurt you, i was just trying to share something with you."

"i know baby," he softens, hand coming to cup over your neck. you turn away, leading him to smooth his hand over the back of your head instead as you look off to the side bitterly. "it wasn't you, it was my day-"

"i don't care," you huff. "you can't blame the way you treat people on shitty days - especially the way you treat me! i'm the person in this world who loves you, toji. if you need me to reel in on something, then just say that respectfully, but don't you dare go yelling at me the way you just did. it hurts my feelings."

toji sighs, looking over your face and caressing your hair. "i know, doll, m'sorry," he mumbles. "shouldn't be taking my shit out on you. you ain't ever done a single thing bad to me."

"yeah, you prick," you bite, and toji lets himself smile. "and stop smiling," you push against his chest. "nothing's fucking funny."

"you're right. nothin's funny at all," he agrees. "m'just happy i got a girl who knows how to fight back when i'm bein' an asshole."

"oh, what the fuck ever," you roll your eyes. "you're lucky i don't chop your balls off and hang them on display in the living room."

"nah, i much prefer you gettin' mean with me." he moves to cup your neck again, and this time you allow him, a pretty pout still on your face. "i deserve it."

"you sure as hell do..."

he chuckles, smirk spreading. "c'mere, doll," he pulls you into him, securing his arms around your frame and pressing you to his chest. you ease into him reluctantly, glowering off to the side as your check squishes into his pectoral. you don't hug back, for toji's biceps crush over you and trap your arms within his embrace as he rocks you slowly. "what can i do to make up for it?"

"go jump off a bridge," you mutter, body relaxing into his warmth as his chest rumbles with laughter against you.

ryomen sukuna:

sukuna belittling you with his words has never been anything new to you. while you understand that you withhold a space of softness in his heart that is reserved for you and you only, at times his comfortability with insulting you can go a bit far.

and of course, you’re used to it. he calls you “brat” and “woman” as though you are a nuisance to him when in reality, you are the only person on this planet he has bestowed those names upon with his own definition of affection. he clicks his teeth and rolls his eyes at you when you talk about something that he wants you to believe is of little interest to him, when he is taking mental note of the things you enjoy talking about so that he can suffocate you with your desires long after you have presented a specific like to his attention. and of course, he tells you you are an aggravation to his soul every damn two seconds, as though loving you brings him stress after eons of having lived so freely and ruthlessly - though he still does, your presence does more to ease him into a state of mellowness than anything has prior to his commitment to you.

he very clearly welcomes the feeling and connection to you, but masks so by calling you annoying. all the time. so of course, when he does normally, you are completely desensitized to it.

unless you’re already irritated.

occasionally, there is only so much of sukuna you can handle. you love him to death, but the two of you butt heads so often due to your stubborn natures and unwillingness to allow the other to win that it tends to wear you down after a while. sukuna calls you disrespectful for even talking back, yet allows you to continue to do so as if he gets off on the way you get snippy with him.

it’s entertaining to the lord, after all. why would he spend his time doting on someone boring?

nevertheless, if you’ve had a long day and are in no mood to deal with sukuna’s rather wide range of complex reactions to even the smallest of things that you do, his habits tick you off - especially so when he calls you annoying for something that you feel is anything but.

so as you complain to sukuna about how he needs to be mindful of how many sheets he’s running through by staining them with blood when he carelessly returns to your shared bedroom from yet another colorful expedition, you're peeved by the way he stares at you so carelessly. you’ve been begging him forever to be more mindful of how he treats his belongings, especially now that you share the same things, but he always brushes your concerns aside by saying that he can just get more. but god forbid someone else were to stain his sheets, then he’d be out for blood.

his arms are crossed as he stands before you, eyes rolling over the ceiling as he makes his agitation rather evident. you’re a little thing in comparison to him, yammering on about the tenth set of sheets he has stained this month, but he wants to hear none of it. why is it such a big deal to you anyway? he has thousands of servants and limitless access to resources, so it shouldn’t matter to you whatsoever. besides, you’ve stained numerous sheets of his over the years with your arousal and he’s never complained. why does it all of a sudden hold importance to you what state his belongings are in now?

“would you quit your moaning, woman?” he snarls, overpowering voice speaking over you. his eyes are hard and slim as they stare over you, and you’re bubbling with rage the moment he cuts into what you’re saying. “it is not of relevance to me, so why is it of any relevance to you?”

“because it is, sukuna! why do you only hold value to the things you care about? we share a bed, obviously i’m affected by this too!” you argue.

“you are not a servant. servants concern themselves over such things.”

“oh, so now i’m beneath you for talking about this?”

sukuna groans. “i did not say that, brat.”

“yeah, but you insinuated it!” you retort. “i’m tired, sukuna, i wasn’t trying to make this a big thing.”

“yet you are attempting to by persisting so irritatingly.”

you throw your hands up, at your wit’s end. why does he never listen to you when there is something on your mind? why does he always push aside what you feel matters when he decides it doesn’t matter to him? why is he always so cold with you, so steely and headstrong as though he remains above you like you haven’t been by his side all this time?

you know how sukuna is, and yet him calling your opinions irritating riles you up in this moment. everything has to turn into an argument, and it weighs you down. nothing can ever run smoothly without sukuna taking offense or scoffing at the idea of you coming to him with something you feel should be fixed. you can’t win.

"seriously?" you plead. "i mean, really, i'm irritating because i don't want to sleep in blood every night?"

"christ, you don't sleep in blood. the sheets are changed before you come to rest!" he barks. "that is why i find this so annoying. you are complaining for nothing."

"you know what? you're annoying!" you point a finger to his broad chest. the king of curses lifts a brow, looking down at where your finger prods into him.

"i beg your pardon?" an amused, low chuckle ripples through him as though the sentiment is unheard of, which only pisses you off even more.

"you heard me. you're the fucking annoying one. you're always going on about how i shouldn't talk back, or how everything i feel doesn't make sense, or how the things i want don't matter because you don't want them! you act like you're so far above me, when i'm the only one sleeping in bed with you, sitting on your throne, supporting your psycho-ass ambitions - but i'm the irritating one, right? your girlfriend is such a pain in the ass, isn't she? for caring about your wellbeing and loving you when nobody else will?"

the salmon-haired king's eyes go dull as you shout at him, fury raging in your eyes as you continue to poke at him. you're playing with fire, but you don't care. you're fed up with the pretending, with the sly comments about your intelligence as a human being and the value of your interests.

"woman-"

"shut up! i'm not done."

oh. you've really lost it now, haven't you?

normally, sukuna would have made it a point to silence you and teach you a lesson by now, but for some reason, he's feeling generous. slightly intrigued by your outburst, he lets you go on with a domineering smirk.

"i don't care of you're the king of curses, or if you could kill me with the snap of your fingers, or if you've got thousands of people who bow down to you without a second thought like mindless sheep-"

"you are not those people."

"exactly!" you agree without thinking, and sukuna's smirk brightens. "i'm not! so stop- stop treating me like i am! stop talking to me like i'm unimportant and like i get on your nerves more than i do anything good for you! stop blowing me off because you don't know how to empathize! i'm your girlfriend. i care about you, and i also care about the state of your things which you always make a point to say are mine too- and fucking sue me if i'm tired of walking into your room after a long day to see blood stains from random ass civilians while your servants work to replace them in the next hour! what if i wanna lay down before then, huh? ever thought about that?

"god, i just wish you'd care! is that so hard for you to do, sukuna? to care about me and what i care about? i didn't wanna argue with you, but you make it so damn hard for me not to lose my mind! you never hear me talk about how much you drive me crazy, and you drive me crazy every damn day of the week!"

"is that so?" he pries, slyly.

"yes!"

"i implore you, tell me more about how i drive you crazy."

"have you not been listening to anything i've-?!" you freeze, reconnecting with the moment to look in sukuna's eye and see how he is enjoying listening to your rant. you stop, stepping back and lifting your finger from his chest. you breathe in and out deeply, worked up by your own emotion, and you finally take a second to realize what you have been doing. "you're mocking me," you conclude.

"i am doing no such thing."

you scoff. "whatever, sukuna. just forget it. sorry i'm so irritating to you."

you go to walk off, but sukuna is already wrapping a set of arms around you, tugging you back to his chest. you grit your teeth, peering up over your shoulder to look back and find the demon grinning down at you teasingly.

"you need to relax," he muses.

"don't fucking tell me to relax, sukuna, i'm already pissed off."

"mm. i can see that, and in feeling so you have forgotten who you are speaking to."

"see, this is what i'm talking about! i'm not your servant-"

"yes, yes, i know. it was hard not to catch what you were saying during your little tantrum."

"fuck you," you groan, moving to push away. sukuna tightens his grip, winding his arms securely over your stomach and pressing you to his chest. "sukuna," you whine.

"stop taking everything so personally," he ducks down to speak into your ear over your left shoulder. you jerk, turning your head in the direction of his voice. "you are fully aware that you are not the same as everybody else. if you were, you would not be so mouthy."

"yeah, well it's hard to tell what you think sometimes when you call me annoying all the damn time. if you want me to leave you alone, just say that and i can stop wasting my time."

"enoughhh," he hisses. "you must stop taking things so far."

"and you must stop being so mean," you mimic his speech.

sukuna snorts. "do not worry about the sheets. i will retreat elsewhere after massacres if it while cease your whining."

"oh, how lucky i am," you click your teeth.

"quite so," he turns in to press his lips to the space under your jaw. "if you were anyone else-"

"i'd be dead," you finish, involuntarily leaning into him though your face is still tense. "no one else should be in your bed anyway, you know."

"that is why no one ever will."

6K notes · View notes

harrysfolklore · 1 month ago

Text

i see your face in every crowd - op81

summary: the asutralian grand prix is right around the corner and oscar's face is everywhere in melbourne, his ex girlfriend can't help but miss him (he misses her too)

folkie radio: if you know me you know i'm a sucker for an exes to lovers trope, and honestly this one is one of my faves i've ever done. ENJOY AND LEAVE FEEDBACK

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by oliviarodrigo, lando and 2,107,399 others

yourinstagram back home for a bit... needed some time to reset & breathe. been writing loads lately - the songs are just pouring out 🌊 feeling more inspired than ever tbh. can't wait to share what i've been working on with u all soon. huge thank u for all the love lately, means more than u know xx

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username1 BABYYYY

username2 i'm happy she's home and surrounded by love

sabrinacarpenter miss ur face already 😭 these songs are about to end lives fr

chappellroan THEYRE NOT READY FOR WHAT'S COMING!!! also pls come back to LA soon i'm dying without u

username3 chappellynbrina is a forever thing

username4 the way melbourne gp is gonna be so awkward next month...

└ username1 why does everyone have to make everything about that 🙄 let them live

└ username2 no fr like can we focus on the music instead

username5 oscar ain't shit anyway, ur so much better without him queen

└ username3 y'all don't even know what happened, stop being toxic

└ username6 they literally both asked for privacy can u respect that maybe

alexandrasaintmleux being home suits u sm! can't wait for the new era

└ username2 once a wag always a wag

username7 THE BREAKUP ALBUM IS COMING AND IM HERE FOR IT

username8 take all the time u need but also pls drop a song soon we're starving 😩

lando yooo text me when you get the chance !

└ username1 THEIR FRIENDSHIP LIVES

└username2 oscar piastri you can't break this one

username9 some of y'all are being so mean for no reason, they were cute together and now they're not, it happens

username10 manifesting a collab with sabrina on this album 🕯️

liked by lando, alex_albon and 467,958 others

oscarpiastri Last few days of prep before heading home for the season opener. Ready 💪

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username1 THATS MY BABY GOAT

username2 we're so taking that wdc this year

lando looking a bit weak mate might need another few months of training

└ oscarpiastri stick to gaming mate

└ carlossainz55 Children, behave 😂

└ username1 THIS INTERACTION

username3 we're so back. man's entering his thirst trap era and we love to see it

└ username1 healing through gym pics, real

username4 the transformation from rookie to absolute unit we love to see it

username5 melbourne's gonna go crazy for him

└ username2 the city will be pretty much covered with his face

username7 the post-breakup glow >>>>>>

username8 bro said watch me get faster AND hotter

username9 yn is stronger than me bc i definitely would've given him another chance

georgerussell63 Looking strong 💪🏼

└ lando but still slower than me

└ oscarpiastri We'll see about that mate

└ username3 WHAT IS LANDO'S PROBLEM

aussiegp Our hometown hero getting ready to give us a show 🇦🇺

username10 YN GET BACK WITH HIM I BEGGG

liked by shortandbrina, livbedumb and 119 others

definitelynotyn not me stalking his instagram at 2am with a glass of rosé in hand... why he gotta post gym pics looking like THAT 😭 someone take my phone away fr because what if i do something stupid like text him rn???? also why does he have to look so good while training I HATE HIM

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shortandbrina girl DELETE instagram rn i'm not joking!! calling u in 2 mins

└ definitelynotyn too late i already watched his story 3 times help

midwestprincess this is why we don't drink wine alone bestie... coming over with ice cream and we're watching mean girls

└ definitelynotyn pls hurry before i do something stupid like listen to our playlist

livbedumb first rule of breakups: BLOCK THE GYM PROGRESS POSTS!!!! trust me on this one

└ definitelynotyn but what if i just want to check if he's doing okay 🥲

└ gracieeeeee she's lost it completely someone intervene

arithegood not me literally writing a song about this exact situation last week 💀 wine drunk stalking is universal bestie

└ definitelynotyn pls send me the song i just know it'll hurt so good

phoebenotbuffay okay but like... we've all been there 😭 remember when i almost texted #him after he decided to walk around in those short shorts

└ definitelynotyn at least urs wasn't wearing race suits that make his arms look like THAT

whostaylorswiftanyway time to write a song about it bestie x

└ definitelynotyn already got three verses and a bridge done ngl

liked by username1, username2 and 6,974 others

f1updates Melbourne is getting ready for the Australian GP! The city is covered in @/oscarpiastri billboards and posters as they prepare to welcome their home hero

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username1 imagine being yn trying to get coffee and boom there's your ex's face on a 50ft billboard 💀

username2 the way you literally can't escape his face anywhere in the cbd this week

username3 the way this gp would've been so different if they were still together... remember last year?

└ username1 they were the cutest in the paddock

└ username2 pls she probably won't even be in melbourne this year

username4 our boy is everywhere and we love to see it!!

username5 the promotional team really said oscar piastri world domination

username6 the billboards are giving everything they need to give tbh

username7 maybe she should drop the breakup album during race week for maximum chaos

└ username1 now that would be iconic behavior

└ username3 the way the charts and the podium would be fighting for his attention

username8 MELBOURNE IS OSCARLAND

username9 imagine not being an oscar fan rn… or worse, being his ex

username10 CAN SOMEBODY THINK OF OUR GIRL YN

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by lando, charles_leclerc and 597,388 others

oscarpiastri Seems like there's a few of me around Melbourne at the moment... has anyone noticed? 😅

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username1 OSCAR FUCKING PIASTRI

username2 HE DID NOT

lando bit of an upgrade for the city tbh └ oscarpiastri Better than your face mate

username3 OH HE'S MESSY FOR THIS ONE

└ username1 posting this RIGHT after her story i'm screaming

username4 he chose violence today and i'm here for it

mclaren Our guy's everywhere! Can't wait for the weekend 🧡

└ username2 admin pretending they don't see what's happening here

username5 THE TIMING OF THIS POST??? someone's feeling petty

username6 he really said "oh you can't escape me? let me show you why" 💀

georgerussell63 Just ran into your face in the airport

username7 the way he probably had these pics ready and WAITED

username8 bro saw her story and chose chaos

danielricciardo looking good mate! although i remember when it was my face everywhere 👴 └ oscarpiastri Times change old man

username9 it's giving "oh you miss seeing me? here's more" energy actually

username10 focusing on the important stuff: he looks good in every single billboard

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by harrystyles, sabrinacarpenter and 1,389,647 others

yourinstagram missing tour life so much today! can't wait to get back on the road and see all your beautiful faces again 💕 thankful for the memories we've made together x

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username1 MY GIRL I MISS HER

username2 the way she posted this exactly after THAT story... we see you

└ username3 damage control era

troyesivan SUPERSTAR 🤩🤩

username4 girl we know what (who) you're really missing

└ username2 not her trying to distract us 😭

username5 we're not fooled bestie but we support you

sabrinacarpenter miss you too angel!! ❤️

└ yourinstagram love you sabs 🥺

username6 NOT THE DAMAGE CONTROL POST

username7 WE NEED A TOUR ASAP

gracieabrams I miss being on the road with you 🥹🥹

username8 EVERYONE TALKIG ABOUT OSCAR HELP

username9 can we talk about how good she looked on tour though??

username10 the way she's probably sitting with sabrina rn planning damage control posts

└ username11 the group chat must be WILD right now

liked by midwestprincess, livbedumb and 109 others

definitelynotyn well. something just came in the mail and i think i might actually throw up. universe really said "you thought that instagram story wasn't enough embarrassment for one day?"

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shortnbrina GIRL CHECK YOUR TEXTS RN

└ definitelynotyn I'M HAVING A CRISIS

midwestprincess the way i SPRINTED here when you texted

└ definitelynotyn help what do i do

└ midwestprincess BREATHE FIRST

gracieeee wait is that what i think it is? 🏁

└ definitelynotyn 🙃🙃🙃

└ gracieeee OH MY GOD????

livbedumb the timing… someone's been plotting

└ definitelynotyn don't. i can't think about that.

maddiebeer okay but like… are you going?

└ definitelynotyn MADS PLS I'M ALREADY SPIRALING

└ maddiebeer that's not a no 👀

arithegood manifesting a rain delay so you have to stay longer

└ definitelynotyn I HAVEN'T EVEN DECIDED IF I'M GOING

└ arithegood sure jan

phoebenotbuffay imagine if you'd actually posted this on main too

└ definitelynotyn DON'T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT

└ phoebenotbuffay too soon? 😂

dulapeep at least you have time to plan outfits

└ definitelynotyn NOT HELPING

└ dulapeep the green dress. trust me.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by lando, charles_leclerc and 665,583 others

oscarpiastri Close. Bring on tomorrow

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username1 THATS MY BABY GOAT

username2 oscar piastri man of few words

username3 pole position if he was still with yn

mclaren Our home champ 🧡

username4 OKAY CHAT DO WE THINK YN WILL ATTEND THE RACE??

└ username1 maybe focus on racing?? this isn't about his ex

lando sorry about that

└ oscarpiastri Should've just let me keep it

username5 can't help but think about yn in parc fermé for his win tomorrow but they're not together anymore

username6 HES WINNING TOMORROW THERE'S NOTHING THAT CAN CHANGE THAT

charles_leclerc An existential crisis later

└ carlossainz55 Let him breathe

└ username1 HUUUH WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT

username7 brb listening to yn's songs about him.. specially lover

liked by midwestprincess, shortandbrina and 107 others

definitelynotyn watching from my couch because apparently i'm the biggest coward in the universe. the pass is literally staring at me from my coffee table. i hate myself.

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shortnbrina GET IN YOUR CAR RIGHT NOW

└ definitelynotyn I CAN'T

└ shortnbrina YES YOU CAN I'M CALLING YOU AN UBER

midwestprincess GIRL THERE'S STILL 40 LAPS YOU CAN LITERALLY MAKE IT

└ definitelynotyn and then what?? walk in mid-race??

└ midwestprincess YES EXACTLY LIKE A MAIN CHARACTER WOULD

livbedumb not you watching his every move on tv when you could be there

└ definitelynotyn this is less scary ok

└ livbedumb is it though??

maddiebeer remember when you said you'd never be that girl who's too scared to face her feelings?

└ definitelynotyn low blow mads

whostaylorswiftanyway THE PASS IS RIGHT THERE GO GET YOUR MAN

└ definitelynotyn STOP YELLING AT ME

└ whostaylorswiftanyway NO

gracieeee remember when you said his note was the sweetest thing ever? remember crying about how much you missed him? but sure stay on your couch

└ definitelynotyn this is emotional manipulation

definitelynotyn FINE YALL WIN. CALLING A CAR RN

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by shortnbrina, landitooooo and 113 others

definitelynotyn we did some talking. then we did some kissing. then we did some more talking. then we did some more kissing. might have cried a bit (him too). wearing his sweatshirt again. life's funny sometimes.

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midwestprincess OH GOD FINALLY

gracieeee I'M SOBBING

leclercccccc FINALLY you accepted the follow request

└ definitelynotyn oh my god

└ leclercccccc i helped with the speech you know

└ notoscarpiastri mate.

└ leclercccccc you're welcome btw

landitooooo took you both long enough bloody hell

└ notoscarpiastri says you

└ landitooooo oi what's that supposed to mean

└ shortnbrina no idea really

└ definitelynotyn lando norris and sabrina carpenter... there's stuff you need to explain

arithegood THE TIMELINE HAS BEEN RESTORED

└ definitelynotyn dramatic much

└ arithegood says the girl who showed up mid-race

whostaylorswiftanyway I expect a full debrief tomorrow but I'm happy for you my girl

notoscarpiastri Can we go back to the kissing?

└ definitelynotyn please

liked by username1, username2 and 8,594 others

popbuzz YN AND OSCAR PIASTRI SPOTTED TOGETHER IN MELBOURNE

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username1 THE SWEATSHIRT THE SWEATSHIRT THE SWEATSHIRT

└ username2 SHE'S WEARING HIS CLOTHES AGAIN

username3 FROM SPINNING OUT TO BREAKFAST DATES IN 24 HOURS

└ username2 character development at its finest

username4 IM GOING TO CRY THEY'RE BACK TOGETHER

username5 Sources say he went to her place last night...

└ username1 and didn't leave 👀

username6 I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY REALLY GOT BACK TOGETHER

username7 this is proof that crying over your ex on main actually works

username8 YN IS A WAG AGAIN OMFG

username9 everybody say thank you australia gp billboards with oscar's face

username10 OSCAR LOVE SONGS ARE SO BACK

username11 WE WON SO HARD

liked by yourinstagram, lando and 876,494 others

oscarpiastri Home race took some unexpected turns both on and off track. P9 wasn't the result we wanted, but somehow still ended up winning this weekend.

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username1 HE'S SOOOO

username2 LOST THE RACE BUT GOT THE GIRL??

lando mate that's actually smooth

└ oscarpiastri Learned from the best

mclaren We'll take this kind of victory too 🧡

username3 THE THIRD PICTURE IM SOBBING

username4 mans really said forget p9 i got the girl

username5 HE'S SO BOYFRIEND WE'RE SO BACK

nicolepiastri ❤️

username6 OSCAR PIASTRI THE MAN THAT YOU ARE

username7 oscar's guide to get back with your ex with just ten simple steps

sabrinacarpenter FINALLY !!! OUR GIRL CAN STOP MOPING AROUND

└ chappellroan now we need oscar's friend to grow some balls too

└ oscarpiastri @/lando

└ lando well...

└ username1 OMFG LANDO AND SABRINA??

└ username2 WHAT JUST HAPPENED

username8 I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS REAL LIFE

yourinstagram 🥺🥺 i love you

2K notes · View notes

neeeooon · 1 month ago

Note

Hello girlie🩷i hope u are alright. Could u please write the blue lock guys (isagi, bachira,sae, rin,nagi,kaiser) and anyone u want reacting to their children snapping at their mom being rude.

oooooo okay i’ll try!! thank you for the request 💖

when your kid snaps at you in front of them

husband + dad bllk x fem!reader. cursing. reader is called “mom”. kids being stupid! no abuse.

isagi yoichi

-> your household is less traditional, so you nor isagi care much when your children curse or ask you questions that would be “taboo” in other households

-> however, less traditional does not excuse your youngest son when he calls you a bitch after you tell him he can’t go to his friends house at midnight

-> you blink at him. then glance over your shoulder at your husband, who is staring at your son with the same bewildered expression. “what did you just say?” he asks with a surprised scoff

-> your son is pale. “i-i said ‘i understand. we can hang out another time with your permission.’” “that’s what i thought. go to bed.” “yep!”

bachira meguru

-> bachira isn’t one to get upset easily. he’s the fun dad, and you’re the stricter parent making sure things are taken care of and running smoothly behind the scenes

-> until your seven-year-old daughter throws a tantrum when you accidentally gave her your sandwich instead of hers. your sandwich with crust on it. “i hate you! you’re the worst mommy ever! i wish i had another—“

-> bachira scoops her up and props her on his hip, eyes more stern than you’ve seen them in a long time. “apologize. right now.” sniffling, your daughter wipes her eyes with her arms and mumbles out a weak apology. your husband nods once. “promise you won’t say anything like that to her ever again.” “i promise..”

itoshi sae

-> he doesn’t show it, but he’s laughing in disbelief when your son tells you he won’t go to school. you’d been trying to get him ready, and all morning he’s been dragging his feet and throwing himself to the floor. when sae catches your eye and sees that you’re not in the mood, he steps in

-> “come on, get up.” he tells your kid as he hoists him off the floor and kneels in front of him. “you’re going to school.” “but—“ “and you’re going to apologize to mommy first.” “but—“ “and if you say ‘but’ again, i’m taking your toys to work with me and leaving them there.”

-> that’s enough to get your son to stop and reach for his backpack with a deep pout. “i’m sorry mommy. i’ll go to school today.” you let out a long sigh of relief and silently tuck his lunchbox into his bag. “dad can take you. i need some me time.” sae doesn’t argue and gives you a quick kiss goodbye before grabbing his car keys

itoshi rin

-> he doesn’t know how to react, honestly. your daughter has never spoken back to either of you before. she can get dramatic at times and throw a tantrum every now and again, but she’s never been downright hostile

-> “i wish you weren’t my mom! juri’s mom buys her whatever she wants and let’s her stay up late!” “well, i’m not juri’s mom. i’m your mom.” “well, i wish you weren’t!” rin materialized after that, arms crossed over his chest as he caught your daughter’s narrowed eyes

-> his face is perfectly blank as he says, “i must have misheard you.” your daughter mimics his crossed arms in defiance, and rin cocks a brow. “apologize. or i’m calling juri’s mom and telling her to keep her daughter far away from you.” “what?! you can’t..! fine. i’m sorry.” “now give me your phone and go to your room.”

nagi seishiro

-> he’s quiet, but he’s observant when it comes to your children. he’ll sneak sweet treats into the cart when he sees them staring, he’ll let them teach him the slang they use in school, and he’ll carry them all to bed when they fall asleep during movie night. he’ll let them get away with a lot because he loves them, but when your youngest daughter snaps at you for asking her to turn her game off…

-> he easily swipes the controller from your daughter’s hands and places it on the highest shelf before turning the screen off. she opens her mouth to scream at him, but one seemingly disinterested glance back is enough for her to close her mouth in shame

-> “what do you say?” he drawls while gesturing in your direction. your daughter’s bottom lip juts out as she blinks up at you. “i’m sorry…” “now go hug her.” she does as told and let’s you scoop her up. “i won’t yell at you again.” “well, i appreciate that, sweetheart.”

michael kaiser

-> absolutely not. there’s no tolerance for that at all, and he makes it very known

-> your son got one word out in a shouting voice before kaiser squeezes his shoulder. it’s not enough to hurt, but it definitely shuts your son up

-> “not in my house. not to her. you are not going to stand here and belittle someone who’s spent your entire life giving and giving so you are safe and comfortable.” he scoffs and gently pushes your son forward so he’s in front of you. “you don’t know how lucky you have it, kid. now, apologize.”

1K notes · View notes

vinnyvamppp · 1 month ago

Text

To Be Desired PT 2

⭐:ViltrumMark, OmniMark, Hooded Invincible, Masked Mark, HeadCap Invincible (Requested!), Mentions of Invincible. (PART 1 HERE)

Commenter: Can u write some viltrumark n Omni mark. Pleasee. (Special at the end!)

Synopsis: Variants of your childhood best friend spawn across the globe, and you find yourself in the crossfire of their previous lovers. What happens when you experience the parallel pleasure they can offer?

Warnings: Power Struggles, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Morally Grey, Nipple Play, Fingering, Pussy Eating, Overstimulation, Public Sex, Ejaculating Inside, Rough Sex, 69, Car Sex, Switch!Reader, Switch!Invincible Variants, Plot changes for convenience, Matching Freaks, Position Changes, Porn w a Plot, etc.

Invincible Variants x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6,079

Previously on 'To Be Desired' ... Helping where you could, you began assisting in fighting off the weaklings who figured now was the best time to attack Earth. Micro tears riddled your uniform as you tore through them mercilessly, all through a look of pity. There were days you'd resent this “job” you'd granted yourself, the little recognition and appreciation you'd receive from the public. How selfish of them and you. You wanted an excuse to have this world fair alone, without a need to rebel when no one would notice. As luck would have it, a voice suddenly dawned behind you, his body floating midair and adorned with the appearance of your dearest friend.

ViltruMark

Gazing upon the malignant figure, his jaw ticked ever so slightly at the sight of you. A mangy mutt of a man was within his grasp, its maw bludgeoned with the imprint of his knuckles. The sound of a body hitting the ground beside you was like a heavy, wet slap, followed by a faint whoosh of air being forced from its lungs. It was a sickening thud, like a ripe melon dropped from a great height, and you froze with a sense of unease.

The impact was startling and violent, and for a moment, you forgot about the raging havoc being reaped around you. The suddenness of it all made your heart race—you were almost certain he could hear it—as every instinct shrieked within. Your body language became defensive, his gaze hardening in response.

"I've killed you once, and I'll kill you again," he proclaimed, yet it held little intent. His uniform was a staple of the Viltrumite Empire, its clad symbol emboldened in the sky’s smoke like a false beacon of hope. "Then get it over with. You won't be the first variant who dies tonight." The snarky remark was met with a confident scoff. His padded feet landed in front of you, his eyes absorbing your features as if to reminisce. "I won’t. That was my first mistake," he replied, his fingers finding themselves tangled in your hair.

It was sudden; you couldn't help but grimace at his words. A Viltrumite admitting their mistakes? Unbelievable. That was until his grip suddenly tightened, cocking your head to the side as he whispered in your ear. "I've come to right my wrongs and take you with me." The man's grip was a hold of domination, a vice-like clamp that strangled the last vestiges of hope. It was merciless, like that of a warlord who wielded power with an iron fist. Yet the soothing hand around your waist and the calloused fingertips that scratched against your costume told the story of a starved man.

It wasn’t a debate, nor did you intend to argue, as your annoyance with your reality simmered. "Right your wrongs…?" you questioned, a wicked grin slowly spreading across his face as you two suddenly took flight. Tears bubbled at your waterline from the speed, your fingers clinging to him as you could’ve sworn he nearly melted. You always did talk too much, so he figured he'd show you. The underground vibrations beat against your eardrums as he cradled you. Your gaze was fixed upon a newly formed crater within the valley, only destroyed rubble offering privacy. "We’ll do it here. You’ll be my new beloved and will give me children."

His fingers traced down your abdomen as they tore through the fabric, gooseflesh rising from the exposure. It was a depressing past, really—having to murder you in cold blood so soon due to his agenda—but not this time. You would stay ignorant of his past, and he would provide it, given your indulgence.

His hands grasped the spandex material of your suit, prying it open as his lips began their pleasurable assault on your neck. The wet warmth of his tongue tickled your skin as he harshly nipped the welcoming flesh. Your faint pulse beneath it enticed him to experience what he had yet to. So alive and welcoming.

Head resting against the soft soil, his hardened cock imprinted beneath the loincloth. His body did little to hide his excitement, though his expression remained cold. Once the clothing was peeled from your body, his lips continued their journey south, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue erratically around the hardened peak while his hand kneaded and caressed the other.

You moaned at the sensations, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair as his hips ground against your clothed cunt. He didn’t stop. He worshiped your breasts until you were writhing beneath him, the skin tender and reddened from his teeth. As he traveled lower, you could feel his warm breath on your most intimate area, his pre-cum now staining the cloth of both his and your costume. Just before his lips could reach your sex, he pulled away in satisfaction. All mild waves of pleasure were ripped from you, and a feeling of annoyance bubbled within.

Pressing back against him, your eyes pleaded seductively, a hand resting against his chest. "It’s not fun when it's just me; let me please you," you muttered, watching as the faintest smirk graced his lips. He sat on his knees as you shuffled yourself forward, hands eagerly tugging at his clothing. His costume splintered as it fell from his form, your mouth practically watering at the sight of his swollen cock eagerly awaiting your touch. You leaned in, inhaling deeply and savoring his musky scent. You ran your tongue along the underside of his veins, from the base to the tip, feeling it twitch against your lips. He shivered.

You circled the head with your tongue, dipping into the slit to taste his essence before taking him into your mouth. Instantly, he sucked in a deep breath through gritted teeth. The man was more sensitive than expected. As your throat relaxed and another inch slid inside, the soft lining of your esophagus welcomed him so fruitfully that his eyelids began to twitch. His pride had failed to forewarn him, and his temperament began to crumble.

As his hips bucked forward, you gagged, only to see a placid grin etched onto his face as his nose crinkled with restraint. He groaned loudly with every bob of your throat, his dick twitching with each contact. Suddenly, his hand gripped your hair, pulling you back. "Enough," he muttered, his voice carrying enough command to make you pause.

Before you could process it, you were flipped onto your hands and knees, panties being lowered as his eyes devoured the sight of your pussy. "You’re soaked… I would’ve fucked you sooner if I knew you’d be so willing." The mumble seemed more to himself than to you. His tip glided down the skin of your folds, the squelching sound causing his grip to tighten as he pushed your head into the ground. Just as he pressed himself inside, the quietest whimper slipped.

Your eyes met his with a smug expression; he returned it as a warning before your velvety walls swallowed him whole. He sighed, like a man being gifted after a long day of work. He didn’t give you time to adjust, immediately pulling out and setting a brutal pace, pounding into you with a force that rocked your entire body. Each thrust pushed you forward, your hands scrabbling for purchase in the burrow of grass. His balls slapped against your clit with every stroke, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

One of his hands left your hip, wrapping around your hair and pulling your head back, forcing you to arch your spine. He fucked almost with a hatred. With every stroke, your body bounced forward, and you could swear you heard your vertebrae popping. Does he not know what gentle is?! No! He’s a Viltrumite, born and raised!

Unbeknownst to you, the dual stimulation of his balls slapping against your skin and the soft twitching of your pussy had him hunched over. He began to chase his own release, loud growls echoing in your ears as you could barely formulate sound. His free hand rested against your ass, enjoying its recoil as a pathetic whine scratched his throat. He was hellbent on burying himself within you, each thrust deepening with the swivel of his hips. His muscles tightened as his jaw clenched, heavy pants echoing between groans. It was beginning to sound needy, a rough greed that consumed him.

Your moans were muffled, his hearing sharp enough to catch every one, his tactics shifting subtly to bring you the utmost pleasure. God, why did he kill you? He could barely remember as his brain began to fizzle out from the pleasure. “Mphm… Mark… can’t breathe,” you muttered, his eyes finally snapping into focus. In a last-ditch effort, he tugged you back, ripping a hiss from you as your spine curved. Your back rested against his chest, and although the sex was rough, this was a moment of gentleness. “Aah—ugh, mm, fuck, I’m going to fill you,” he whispered, sheathing himself one final time as he came.

You two remained still as his stamina recovered; he pressed a chaste kiss against your lips, both of your suits ruined. No matter, he couldn't care less about flying into space naked. It was short-lived as he abruptly readied himself from a voice buzzing within his ear; you remained seated in absolute awe. “How long can you hold your breath?” he asked, a plan to return home brewing.

OmniMark

His gaze remained fixed on you, expression unimpressed as he observed. You had just defeated another swarm of enemies, their blood coating the streets. As you stumbled toward him, your breath came out in labored gasps, and your vision blurred, making it hard to focus on his figure. Mark—or rather, this mysterious figure in similar fashion—seemed to be studying you intently, his eyes piercing through your facade.

The sound of his cape billowing finally caught your attention. Roving over his figure, you observed his costume. A dried patch of blood littered his hand, pink lint from the fabric clinging to it. It resembled Omni-Man's and only struck you with confusion as your mind rang from your probable concussion. "Hey, are these giving you any trouble?" he asked, his body idly bobbing midair as he awaited an answer.

"Who are you, really? If you're Mark, why are you dressed like... well, like him?" You gestured to his costume, a near-perfect replica of Omni-Man's, complete with the red and white color scheme, only missing the distinctive 'O' emblem. He sighed, almost regretfully, as a realization seemed to dawn upon you. Omni-Man in his world was dead; just why did I have to run into this one?! He glided toward you with a strangely disturbing grace.

"I've come to defend you. There are many of us gathering over Chicago." Your question was swatted away like a fly as he continued. His response made you drop your guard, albeit naively, since there was no reason to trust him. He landed in front of you, dark goggles showing your reflection as he contemplated. "Why? What happened to me in your dimension?" you inquired.

He replied with the slightest look of pity and weariness. "She… was like a pet. Served her purpose and got in the way after I killed my father." His words made your heart drop. "I've been looking for you… for a new pet. So, understand me this time, and we can conquer together." The tone of his words was low, almost careful, like it somehow softened the demeaning blow. Every word was woven in silk, but underneath lay a quiet demand. His fingers gently wrapped around yours, his gloved thumbs ghosting over your knuckles.

Truthfully, he hated his dimension's version of you. Such a nuisance, but you were already proving to be more favorable. A glimpse into what you could've been.

"But you have more to offer than she did. She had no powers, no abilities… but she was cute while it lasted." A sense of sadness lingered in his voice as his eyes focused behind you, on the destruction your battle had caused.

"Fine, I'll let you protect me," you said, releasing his fingers.

"It’d be best if we stayed together at all times," he replied.

"I don’t think I could stomach being around you." It was a petty jab, spit with unintentional venom.

"I could change that," he quipped with the cockiness of his father, his palm outstretched to you.

Just how did you allow yourself to be swept away like this? Yes, the Mark you knew was the son of Omni-Man with morals; this one went against every principle you had when becoming a hero. Like father, like son. His words were sensitive, meticulously put together to string you along—not that you cared now, not with his fingers buried deep inside your cunt.

Somewhere along the way, he had flown you to Paris like some fancy vacation. The leveled city burned brightly, the embers painting your skin in a dewy orange that made you look so divine. The Eiffel Tower stood tall, almost as a harbinger of justice, and here you were, on the structure, being fingered by him. You let out a sharp cry as he started to stroke, his digits gliding through your wetness with ease. The very sight of your cunt had him in a hedonistic trance, his thumb slotting over your clit. He teased and circled, applying just the right amount of pressure to have your hips bucking beneath him. His pace quickened ever so slightly, reveling in the ridges of your pussy that he anticipated to hug him so snugly.

"You like that, don't you? You like it when I touch you like this?" he purred, watching as your face scrunched in pleasure. It wasn't like he needed a response; seeing your reaction was enough. Your abs began to tighten as your orgasm built, and just as your body lurched forward, his hands pulled away, leaving you clenching around air.

"You said that would be it," you whispered, watching as he smiled faintly, almost pleading. "I know, but it would be better this way… I can't monitor with just my fingers." He excused himself, and your eyes rolled sarcastically. "Last thing." It was a harsh spat that crawled from your throat and into his ear. "Last thing," he agreed—when you both knew he was the type to say that while fucking you senseless for the tenth time.

Against the cold metal, he spread your legs wide, his free hand freeing his weeping cock from its confinement. It's been punished enough for now. Clothes were shed quickly, eagerly, until you were both naked and pressed together, skin against skin. He hovered over you, his eyes roaming your exposed body hungrily. Circling his tip around your entrance, he finally pushed in, jaw clenching with a shaky exhale.

His hips began to build into a relentless pace, your bouncing legs wrapping firmly around him to pull him in deeper. He was becoming lost within you—quite literally—as your pussy swallowed him balls deep. No wonder his father remained active with Debbie; this was fucking godsent to him. Perhaps his words from earlier were no longer manipulation but the truth. He would vow to know you on a personal level later.

Moans of pleasure from you both echoed. He was shameless about his noise, enjoying the sound of skin slapping in the air. You could have sworn his particularly deep thrusts sent the tower shaking. Sweat formed on his brow as he concentrated, ab muscles flexing as he withheld his orgasm. Mark loved it here. He would do anything not to pull out. His body began to tremble with restraint, nearly convulsing with the overarching effort. Your bodies shifted with each powerful thrust. Lost in your own pleasure, you barely noticed your head now dangling from the structure.

His attempt at being romantic after destroying a city was dreadful. "Mark…!! Ah! I'm gonna fall, fuck—!" you wearily shouted, and he grimaced slightly, his fingers shoving themselves into your mouth to simulate sucking his cock as he watched you gag on them. "You know better… swearing doesn’t make you cool." He stated it so casually, as if he weren’t balls-deep inside you.

Flying you both into the air, his hands gripped your ass, fucking himself into you. His thrusts grew erratic, his whimpers barely contained. It was obvious—his toes curled in his shoes, his feet flexed, his eyes rolled back into his skull, the veins in his neck prominent. Clasping his chin, you focused his attention on you as your insides nearly squeezed him dry. It was your minute revenge. "T-Take what you… what you want." His lips were caught between his teeth. "I wo… won't stop you."

The words were weak, both of you heaving, breath fanning against each other's faces. Wrapping your legs tighter around him, and with bated breaths, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he came with a shout. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he hissed, unable to stop himself. After realizing what he had done, he ironically cursed under his breath.

"S… shit, I should’ve come in your mouth; it would’ve been better," he muttered, disappointed in himself. Wrapping your bare body within his cape, he gingerly kissed you with praise. His lips parted, as if to utter something sentimental, his gaze hardening. Suddenly, he observed heroes gathering within France to save the people. A grimace enveloped his face. He had enough decency to place you securely at your apartment before taking off. HeadCap Mark

“Oh…? And who do we have here?” he asked rhetorically, one hand resting at his side. His overzealous grin gleamed beneath the obscurity of his features. Not to mention… was he bald? His appearance was a far cry from his better counterpart. You kept raking over every detail, unsure what unsettled you more.

“I… I don’t want to fight you. You look like my friend… I couldn’t,” you replied timidly, tension stunning your body. He landed without a sound, the silence eerie—like a grinning cat toying with its prey.

There was dried blood riddled through his costume, his demeanor confident as he strutted toward you with his head held high. You were awfully perturbed, not noticing him already in front of you. “Well, this is gonna be fun,” he chirped as he gazed expectantly at you, his amusement only growing. “You know how hard it was to find you? Your friend's bug brother straightened me out on my way here.” A series of sharp, satisfying cracks from his spine echoed through your ears, each pop releasing tension like bubble wrap as they twisted. His octave dropped a notch as he leaned in.

“Now it's time to straighten you out.” The words were of insincere politeness, their meaning striking you upside the head. His fingers curled around your neck as he guided you backward. The cold metal of a now disheveled and crumpled car met your back. “Ah ah ah, don’t even think about it,” he whispered, your ear tingling from its warmth, your fingers relaxed at your side.

The smile on his face was almost sweet as you complied, only begrudgingly allowing his touch. “Then move before I change my mind.” You snorted in response. It was scandalous; you’d never admit that the hand around your neck nearly made you weak. Just how could you reject a man so desperate to have you? He wasn’t going to deny you either; in fact, he felt almost obligated to show you he deserved this.

He shoved you roughly against the hood of the car, his fingers tracing the length of your curves. The loud creak of the vehicle settling, the sputtering electricity of nearby landline wires, and the open air of dust filling your lungs made you feel truly exposed. Even without the removal of clothing. His tongue flicked over his lips, a brief, deliberate motion—like a cat after cream. The elastic fabric of his costume fell down his muscled legs, his hands eager as they jutted forward. It was rushed—he stripped the latex from your body with the urgency of a man digging for gold.

Only then, when he saw the pretty lace covering such delicate areas, did an audible groan of delight scratch his throat. “Pretty,” he teased, his hands reaching into his boxers as they clung to his thighs. His dick was flushed a pale pink, longer than it was girthy, as bulging veins pathed their way to his tip. “Pretty,” you mimicked, legs spreading as he closed in like a moth to a flame. He left your bra and panties on, enjoying the sight too much to tear them off. Instead, he pulled the fabric aside to watch your tits bounce, your pussy lips already weeping.

His tip parted you like a river, his head hanging back as he bottomed out. Your walls fluttered to accommodate his length; if he wanted to, he could kiss your cervix. Your legs crossed over his shoulder, and his hips reared back before driving into you. Each thrust pushed you further up the car's hood, your breasts bouncing with the force of his movements.

Your hands reached to clasp at anything behind you, only to find a shattered windshield to dig your fingertips into. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he watched you bounce on his cock; it was something deserving of a painting. His head turned, tongue slithering across the soles of your feet in a gesture of worship. As much as he didn't care about this world, in this moment, he was determined to make you feel like a goddess. His pace quickened, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

The movements were entirely guided by lust; broken chuckles bubbled from his throat as moan after moan was ripped from him. Your eyes nearly lost focus, and every stroke caused a slight bulge to imprint in your lower abdomen. Your moans encouraged him—urged him to go deeper, to claim you completely. “So… so much is d-different about this world, but this… t-this was made for me.” His lips grimaced as his hips purged through the trembles riddling his body. The car creaked as it rocked violently, his fluid motion throwing you against him in time with his thrusts.

The street fills with the unfiltered sounds of your moans and the slap of skin against skin. You could feel your throat becoming raw; he was practically silenced, communicating with the tightening of your cunt and its impending orgasm.

Propping yourself onto your hands, you leaned back slightly, one leg gingerly switching to his other shoulder, giving him a full view of how you drank him in. His thumb rolled tight circles around your clit, watching as your hole puckered so vigorously around him.

A ring of your juices—mixed with what he couldn’t tell was pre-cum or cum—sputtered against his pelvis. The sight was enough to tip him over the edge. “Come… all over my cock—mmm—like the good l-little ssslut you are!” he groaned, eyes darting between your folds and your eyes as he inhaled your intoxicating scent.

As he thrust into you with increasing fervor, you felt your body begin to tense, your walls clenching around him as your orgasm approached. He seemed to sense it, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release.

You cried out, fingernails scraping against the car's metal; his jaw clenched wearily as his knees grew weak. A grin etched across his face once more, eyebrows knitting upward as he sighed shakily. With frantic pacing, he waited until his eyes nearly crossed before pulling out and ejaculating on your stomach.

You were winded, arms giving out as you rested against the car; he stared at you, unnaturally tired himself. But as he watched your juices bubble around your entrance, a new energy suddenly surged to his cock. “W-What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, stroking himself with a strangled whimper. “Mmm, I plan on using every inch of this car while I’m here.” Hooded Invincible

The momentary silence was deafening; the veiled mask drifted ever so slightly to show the grin lurking beneath. His costume had blood leaking down the front; the amount would suggest he’d been bested, yet he stood defiant and cocky before you. Just how powerful was he to remain standing? As you readied yourself for another battle, a sigh leaving your lips, his hands suddenly bound together over his head before slamming his full weight onto the concrete road. The rubble cracked beneath your feet, and a strong gust of wind slid you back. It wasn’t nearly as strong as anticipated. He was holding back.

“You won't be enough. You’re not even a fraction of my power!” He enunciated every other word, making the insult feel a little more scathing. “No wonder you get jumped so often, you fucking asshole,” you chided with annoyance. The dull ache in his head was the last thing he registered; the blow landed with a sickening thud, its crack making him stumble back slightly. “Oh, fuck off.” His return strike was swift, a flash of movement followed by a grunt of pain.

You nearly crumpled, the floor rushing to meet you before you regained stability. He was quick to compliment, almost too eager. “Okay… I’ll admit, you’re stronger than I thought.” The feeling of his hands cupping around your wrist, dried blood flaking from his palm. “That’s not why I’m here though,” he finished, his yellow-tinted goggles reflecting off the sunlight, a faint glimpse of his eyes meeting yours.

Just why did they have to have the warmth of your friend's? This was making it difficult to hate him. “Not interested,” you deadpanned, arms tugging within his grasp. He sucked his teeth with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t remember you being this fucking mouthy.” His head cocked slightly to view your expression change like his personal performance. “Wrong dimension; I’m not her.” Your words made him pause as that grin made its Broadway appearance. “Nah, you’re better; I love it when my girls are a bitch.” He taunted, your eyes searching for an escape route as you mentally dismissed him. “C’mon, give me a chance.” The words dripped from his lips, less of a plea and more of a certainty.

You couldn’t deny he had certainly piqued your interest in more ways than one. Suddenly, a pair of calloused fingertips ran a strip down the center of your costume, the fabric outlining a faint camel toe. His fingers pressed against the indent of your pussy lips, a desired dampness nearly causing him to groan. “Oh, you’re fucked,” he said with mocking restraint. In almost an instant, you were dragged into an alleyway and, with the weight of a feather, flipped upside down. “Put me down! What are you doing?!” you grit out, but the words lacked conviction, lost in the echo of his ragged breath.

He ignored your plea, fingers now deftly parting your swollen lips, teasing the clit that throbbed insistently through your costume. Your question was more of a criticism of his crassness. “Relax, you’ll like this.” He brushed off every critique, his focus narrowing to the only thing that mattered—his next dessert.

A firm finger dug into the fabric above your cunt before the screeching sound of fabric tearing. It was better than he imagined; his tongue already sought a taste as he admired the view. “That's it. I know you want this.” His tongue flicked out, tracing a wet path from your clit to your swollen opening. A jolt of electricity shot through you, silencing you momentarily as your hands dug into his hip. He chuckled again, pleased with your reaction. “See? Already loving it.” His response made your pleasure-filled veins run cold.

Returning the favor through shaky moans of your own, your fingers tore through the fabric of his clothing, leaving little time for him to react as your teeth sorted through the pocket of his boxers before his cock sprang out. Its tip was greeted with fervent kisses as a guttural growl rumbled from behind his veil. His tongue, hot and demanding, flicked out, tracing the sensitive flesh. A gasp escaped your lips, a mix of grit and nascent pleasure. He lapped at you with deliberate strokes, teasing and testing your limits. The fluttering of his tongue grew desperate to draw more sounds from you as you writhed.

That was until his toes curled upon a pair of nails dragging down the length of his swollen, veiny cock. He grumbled a string of curses, his tongue pursuing to ravage you in the wake of this being a competition. With practiced ease, your lips parted, bubbles of spit gathering around his tip as you toyed with him. “Fuuuuck me,” he sighed.

You took him in, the softness of your mouth enveloping him as you began to move, your head bobbing rhythmically. The swirl of your tongue was like pleasant lashings against his cock. Your throat relaxed as your nose met the tightening sack of his balls; he was losing his ability to resist. Every so often, you would flatten your tongue, ruining what might’ve been the build-up of his orgasm.

Your combined groans echoed mindlessly in the alleyway. With a clenched jaw, he flipped you right-side up, your hands dragging across the pavement momentarily. The sight of him frazzled you, his hair disheveled from the clenching of your thighs, and the front of his veiled mask drenched in your taste.

“How do you even have the energy to still hold me?” you asked, bewildered as he chuckled. “You underestimate my power.” His response made your eyes roll, and you both were winded nonetheless. He shifted again, his hands now gripping your thighs, spreading them wider. He positioned himself between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your clit, a tantalizing promise of what was to come. As he penetrated the twitching valley of your warmth, you both responded to one another with a moan—a sound of pure, unadulterated need.

Holy fuck, was he glad you couldn’t see his face. He was holding on by a thread, eyebrows furrowed with a quivering lip. “You probably… would’ve made me cum a-already if you didn’t keep playing,” he rasped, somewhat annoyed. “Shut the fuck up and keep going.” He couldn’t argue; his grip tightened against your upper thigh. With every drawback, you tightened around him, threatening to suck him in. Through labored breaths, his jaw went slack as his body nearly locked up on him. “Haa… ha… haa! You r-ready?” he drawled, dick pumping into you with his last shrivels of energy before his dick milked him dry inside you.

You both remained in somewhat of a daze. That’s when the familiar clang of Cecil's reAnimen echoed in the distance. Setting you down with a strange gentleness, he promised his return… leaving you with a hole in your pants. “Fuck.”

Masked Invincible

“Finally…” he whispered; you could’ve sworn his eyebrows creased beneath his mask—the full obscurity of his features made him difficult to identify. “Mark…?” you questioned, his shoulders drooping slightly as a relieved sigh left him. His costume was barely recognizable if it weren't for the signature black and blue; his frosted lenses left little to be discovered.

The instinct for danger—and to fight—was suddenly drained from you as he spoke. “We didn’t all make the same deal.” He approached, desperation weighing down his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter, Mark. You all murdered thousands… I don’t know you. I don’t care to hear you plead your case.”

Your response stunted his movements as the sound of padded feet quickened their pace.

“I—I know, but it was for a good reason, I swear,” he continued with a slight stutter, his hands gesturing to his chest. This somehow felt manipulative. “I liked it here… I came back to bring you and my mom back with me. We can start over.” His hands clung to your shoulders as he spoke, fingernails digging into the flesh. “And why would I do that?” you inquired, your gaze hardening as you anticipated a response. “Because… because I need you.” The delivery was purely pathetic, a voice cracked, edging his words as he nearly pleaded.

Considering the whole ordeal, it didn’t sound like an awful offer. However, it would be unsafe to assume the woman you once loved in the past was the same in every dimension. His submission might’ve unlocked a new kink you were unaware of, the sentiment tugging at your heartstrings. He was similar to the Mark you knew—emotional—but this one felt far more dangerous, a dog off its leash. You began to lie through your teeth. If it meant having a variant as an ally rather than an enemy, then so be it.

“Okay. I’ll come with you if—” Your words were abruptly sawed off as his hands hastily lifted half his mask and his lips found yours with fever. He brushed his lips against yours, featherlight, as if testing the moment—savoring it. He sighed into the kiss, his hands cradling your face, drawing you closer, deepening the space between breath and bliss. His fingertips dug into your skull as he was encased in your warmth.

Just how could he have ever let this go? Not this time. No, he would do better. He’d imagined this countless times.

Hands quickly shifting to your hips, he decided your apartment was best. Being on his best behavior would convince you more, right? Landing on the balcony, he slid open the door as you shuffled backward into the kitchen. You both pulled away, erratic breaths dampening one another's faces. Interestingly, as his costume loosened and pooled around his ankles, the mask remained. He seemed truly hellbent on keeping it on—not that you paid any mind.

Slowly tugging each article of clothing from your body, he watched as if hypnotized. It was nearly comical watching him progressively become aroused as seconds ticked by. His mind and body were one. His ragged gasps produced a small cloud of condensation through his mask. His dick a red, irritated mess with smeared pre-cum. Messy. Desperate. Guiding him into a chair, he manspread to allow you plenty of room once you straddled him, feet hooking against his inner thigh.

His tip pierced through you, giving you little time to adjust as gravity pulled you downwards. Your puffy lips cushioned him between hungry blows, combined arousal leaving a stringy mess in his lap.

Gripping your hips, his jaw clenched as he assisted you in riding him, the pace solely reliant on his stamina. "Wait, wait, slow down," you gasp, trying to regain control. But he's too far gone, his lust clouding his judgment. He grips your hips tighter, slamming you down on his cock with bruising force.

The pleasure is intense—bordering on pain—but you can't deny how much you're enjoying it. He leans forward, his masked face inches from yours. "I—I can't slow down," he pants, his breath hot against your skin. "I've wa… wanted this for so long. Needed this."

You can feel him throbbing inside you, his desire for you evident. But you need to take back control, to show him who's in charge here. You grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as your ass meets the meat of his thighs from your efforts to ride him.

He groans, his head falling back as you take what you want from him. "F-fuck, yeesss," he hisses, his hands moving to your ass, squeezing and spreading it. "Take it all; take everything I have to give."

It was his most coherent sentence—just barely—as his voice cracked with a whimper.

Your moans began to mingle until it was a harmony unable to be differentiated. The sound bouncing off the walls sounded ten times louder than it was. His nose scrunched from beneath his mask, jaw flexing with an effort to remain sane.

"I am. And I'm going to use you until I'm satisfied." He shudders beneath you, his cock twitching inside you at your words. You can tell he likes this—likes being used and controlled by you. After all he’s done, he’d gladly let you go for today.

Your hips slammed against his with every downward thrust. The sounds of skin meeting rang in your ears, a whine of pleasure filling your lungs as unrestrained sounds began to filter. His pubic hair caused delicious friction against your clit as he began to grow sloppy.

He reaches up, his hands cupping the back of your shoulders to hold you in place as he rams into you. The added stimulation sends you closer to the edge, your body tensing as your orgasm approaches.

"C-...Cum for me," he growls, his eyes watching you intently with the goal of watching your face contort in lust. "Fuck… fuck… fuck, yes! G-Give it to me! Please…!"

His voice nearly gave out as he came with a shout, finally being able to make you his.

You soon followed after, collapsing on his chest as remnants of a moan leave your lips. It takes a while for you two to finally gather your bearings. He pulls his mask down, a smile etched into the fabric, before that damned voice calls out within his ear. “I’m sorry… I—I have to go. I'll come back for you,” he stutters, reluctantly leaving and flying into the murky horizon.

This was actually fun to type up. (If interested in Mark's subplot (same scenario), it's linked: here.)

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

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