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dienamights · 4 years ago

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Not Your Best Man | D.Kaminari

✎ Denki Kaminari was resentful of all the things Katsuki Bakugou has, the high hero ranks, the fame despite his demeaning behavior, his intelligence, and most importantly, you.

✎ Protagonists: Denki Kaminari x Fem!Reader

✎ Word count: 5.2K

✎ Category: Smut MDNI, angst

✎ Caution(!): Smut MDNI, swearing, denki is jealous, bakuhoe is an asshole, mommy kink, loss of control of quirk during sex, degradation, praise, oral (male!receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm denial to a certain point, mention of puking, doing denki dirty in so many ways and I’m sorry but I’m also… not sorry.

✎ Author’s notes: Hello! Hope everyone’s well! I’m here with @forrest-fern’s Seven Deadly Sins server Collab! I snatched Denki and chose Envy! I wasn’t able to get bakugou but you know damn well I’m squeezing his ass in there lmao (peep the banner you can see the boom boom boy) (shut up im not late shush)

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Her hair is piled up and back, showing more of her delicate yet strong features. Skin so flawless his hands feel bound when he wants to touch it, afraid of staining it with his fingertips, not deeming himself worthy to taint it. Eyes brought out beautifully with makeup products she knew how to work to make her look even more gorgeous than she already is. Lips perfectly coated in lipstick, always formed in the littlest smile, and he feels compelled to kiss the product off of them.

The dress is perfect, it sits on her body as if it has been made just for her. Its fabric folds hugging her figure, following her curves. It’s color is gorgeous against her skin with long sleeves that cover her arms, the backless dress shows skin that begs him, taunts him to touch it and to guide her along with him. The collar exposes enough shoulders that teases him to bite and mark up. It's tight skirt pooled till the floor with a slit up to her left thigh. She looks stunning and he couldn't stop but linger his eyes on her.

She looks as though she is an angel, in the form of the most beautiful girl on earth. Mesmerising eyes, so crystal clear that he could see rivers, oceans, the whole world through them. No flower, no goddess, not even Aphrodite could ever compare to her beauty. She has the body of a dancer, lithe, supple and oh so beautiful. With every step she takes, it looks as though she’s floating, and Denki only became more convinced that he had been around an angel for the majority of his life and he -regretfully- only was able to realize it a bit too late.

Regretfully, because she wasn’t his, isn’t his, will never be his. Not the measly unimportant groomsman. No, she is the best man’s, Katsuki Bakugou’s, meant to be his forever.

Bakugou’s BakugousBakugousBakugous… Dammit

“I do.”

An adorable little boy dressed in a black tuxedo walks up and hands Kirishima a ring. He slips it on Mina's finger. The pastor smiles and turns to Mina. She wears a strapless wedding gown with embroidery on her bodice. Rhinestones and pearl beads sewn on her gown. She wears a two-tier veil, with a matching crystal head-piece. She holds a French rose silk bouquet. Kirishima is stunning. He wears a black, single-breasted, satin tuxedo with a white-wing collar shirt.

The pastor repeats the question and receives the same reply. You watch her take his ring from a small girl dressed in pink and place it on his finger. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

"You may now kiss your bride." He does so, placing his hands on her shoulders and pressing his lips against hers. The pastor holds up his hands, bringing the cheering crowd to their feet.

Kirishima and Mina leave the gazebo, arms linked, with huge smiles on their faces. The best man, maid of honor, and the groomsmen and bridesmaids follow suit, falling in behind them. They stop near the end of the walk, forming the start of the receiving line.

The family and guests file down, pausing for hugs and kisses and congratulating the young couple. Mina then turns around and throws her bouquet of flowers behind her. The women collide with each other as they try to catch it.

She cheers loud when the bouquet falls in your hands, and you giggle and wave it around, the women’s disappointed groans muffled in your ears when you catch the beautiful vermillions of your partner, oblivious to the golden specks that have been eyeing your every move since you stepped foot into the wedding.

“You could’ve been more obvious about wantin’ me to put a ring on your finger.” Katsuki chuckles against your ear, standing behind you with his hands on your hips, both of you looking at the newlyweds as they enter the reception with everyone awwing at them as they did their first dance as husband and wife.

The sun has set long ago, the full moon hanging and illuminating the area beautifully, the fairy lights and lamps circling the area, making the happy couple look absolutely glowing, and you smile at the scene from outside the dance floor.

“They fell in my hands ‘Suki.” you giggle, lacing your fingers between his, “Besides, you already did, didn’t you?”

“Hmm,” his breath tickles your ear, fingers twisting your engagement ring around your ring finger, “was forced to, after all that whinin’ ‘bout wantin’ to settle down and not knowin’ when we’ll see each other when we’re goin’ on missions, and cherishin’ the lives-” he fakes a snore and rests his full weight on your back, both of you laughing as you tip forward and he catches you in time, placing his hand on your waist again and swaying with you as you see your friends happier than they ever were.

You look perfect, standing there holding each other, absolutely and utterly disgusting. Denki stares at you, fire spreading in his abdominal, his lungs constricting with every breath he takes the longer he looks at you. Swaying together, Katsuki’s lips pressing against your temple and you letting out the most beautiful laugh, Denki can’t help but clench the front of his shirt at the sight, wishing, hoping for nothing more than to be in his shoes, being the one lucky enough to be able to hold you that close, the one that has the privilege to hear your laugh, the one to make you laugh.

“Hey Denki,” He is snapped back to reality when Kirishima stands in front of him, blocking his view from the flawless couple. “H-hey Eiji! Congratulations bro, you’re finally a married man!” They hug, Denki’s eyes never leaving you while Katsuki twirls you to face him and peppers kisses across your face. “Thanks man! Hey sorry, could you get Bakugou for me real quick, we’re taking a few pictures with the best man and the maid of honor.”

“Right away, man of the hour.”

Oh God, oh God, he isn’t ready to face you yet. You look too pretty, he doesn’t feel worthy to be in your presence, driven to bow down and ask for forgiveness for even breathing the same as yours. And yet, you smile upon his arrival, even letting go of Bakugou’s hand to wave him over, and you’re blessing him with your smile, giggles sounding like the singing of angels when he waves back excitedly.

“Hi!” you beam up at him the minute he’s close enough to be graced with your voice, “Where have you been, it’s like you were avoiding me all this time,” you pout for a second and Denki could swear he felt his heart skip multiple beats when your lips wobble and a smile makes it way back up at him.

“H-hey, ummm, Baku- uh.” he laughs at himself, trying to collect whatever dignity he has left. “Uh, Eiji is lookin’ for ya bro, something about a photoshoot with the maid of honor?” The groan Bakugou lets out is enough of a confirmation.

“Fuckin’ pain in my fuckin’ ass bitch” he grumbles, pressing his lips against your temple again, promising to come back after the ‘Motherfuckin’ bitch shoot’ is done. You only reply by squeezing his arm, a silent reassurance that you’ll be waiting for him when he gets back.

It's so revolting, the way he swears up and down, having the filthiest mouth with his words, not even respecting the beautiful goddess that tries to calm his nasty self down, he should be more considerate of you and your feelings, God he loathes the way he treats you. The way he mistreats you.

You deserve to be treated so much better than that, the way Denki would, he’d downright kiss the ground you walk on, remind you every day that you’re the best thing that ever happened to him, the best goddamn thing to ever grace this earth.

Okay, you’re staring. God, has she been staring too? Denki, people always say you never shut up, use it to your advantage for once in your life.

Denki extends his arm to you, curses under his breath, wipes his sweaty palm against his pant leg before extending it again. "Would you like to dance?" You raise your eyebrows. "Would you like to dance?"

"Well, dancing is what a charming gentleman like myself would do.” He beames at the chuckle you let out. “Besides, you're beautiful and I want to show you off.” He pauses. “You know, while Bakugou is busy with his best man duties and all."

You smile, your pretty lips letting out a little giggle at his posture as he starts wiggling his fingers persuasively, and shake your head. "You know what? Yeah, I would like to dance."

Arm-in-arm, you and Denki head into the dance floor and step onto the wooden ground. You felt him move easily with you, agile and confident with the music as he takes the lead. His hands slowly yet surely reach to your lower back, but you shrug it off.

"Ah, expect tango music after this," he says. Eyes gleaming as they shift over to the DJ that nods in acknowledgement to him. He frowns when he sees your averted face, shifting your eyes away from his, observing, searching for him, your fiance, the person he wishes he could be, someone he could never be.

Denki trips over his words in an effort to regain your attention, “A-anyway, uh, um. Hey! Did you know that uh, t-tango is banned in other places of the world?" you raise your eyebrows.

“Is it?”

“Yeah, wanna know why?”

“Didn’t expect you to know honestly.” He smiles as you laugh lightly, but something tugs at his heartstrings, its because you think of him as nothing but stupid brainless dunce face, depsite him entering and graduating one of the best hero courses in all of Japan, alongside you of all people, despite his hero work, the people he saves, the villains he captures, fuck.

You don’t miss the way his face falls after your remark, an almost sour expression passing through before he clears his throat and looks behind your shoulder at basically nothing. “S-so,” you start, “Why was it banned?”

The blond’s eyes flicker over to you and soften at the way you’re cocking your head and smiling at him, despite him getting upset with you. What is he doing? He’s experiencing something straight out of his fantasies, having you pressed so close to him, dancing with him and smiling at him. No one else.

“Oh, okay okay, so. It was considered the dance of the low-lifes at the worst places of society when it first emerged, and so the church banned it, because they said it had the music of the “immoral” factions of society”

“Oh? Why’s that.”

“It was considered an oversexualized dance. Portraying the sin and seduction of the Devil. It represents the Devil's nostalgia, his unrequited aspirations, loneliness, rejection, and misery. The longing of someone who will never fit in, who has never had love nor passion.” He takes a deep breath.

“It's like sex, except with clothes on.”

In a failed attempt to seduce you, he stumbles and steps on your heels. Earning a weak yelp from you as you back up from him.

It's okay, it's okay, he can fix this. Oh God the music stopped. Okay he gets to dance tango with you now and press you even more against him and hold you even closer, okay. God, are his hands always this sweaty?

The silence that follows the stopping of the music makes him panic, you’re so close, he just needs to reach out and hold you against him again. Press your tender body against his, let him pretend you’re his, pretend that he’s lucky enough to take you home with him. Help you take off your dress, press kisses against the curves of your body, make love to you all night.

Put all of that is cut short when he feels a daunting presence behind him, and he doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. Because the way your face lights up at that presence is enough to stop his blood from pumping, enough for him to see only red, for him to dig his nails into the palm of his hands until he feels it piercing his skin.

“Hey,” the taunting voice of Katsuki Bakugou reminds him how beneath him he really is. “Yer havin fun with my girl.” it wasn’t a question. Despite that, in a desperate attempt to feel your touch one more time before you’re swept away by your big strong hero, that he would never be able to match to.

With trembling fingers, Denki grasps your hand and brings your knuckles close to his lips, eyes boring into each other while he kisses them, and you only grin in appreciation at his manners, doing the most adorable courtesy he has ever seen in his life, almost forgetting the looming presence of his former classmate.

Bakugou moves around Denki to reach you, and Kaminari knows at this point all hope is lost for you to dance with him, or better yet, have any interaction with him again for the entirety of the night. Katsuki held your hand with surprising firmness, caramel scent wafting through as you feel how sweaty his hands really are.

“Are you warm?” You mumble, lacing your fingers through his when his reaction is to pull his hands away to wipe them at his pants.

“No.” It's firm and it's rough, yet it isn’t directed at you. It’s directed to the other blond that surprisingly still hasn’t backed down and is still standing straight, eyeing how you two act as a couple, how he wishes you would hold his hand, ask him if he was warm, embrace all his insecurities.

As your fiance leads you back to the center of the dance floor. Hand starting at your waist but quickly slipping to grab a handful of your ass, chuckling when you squeal and slap his chest. Something wicked gleams in his eyes when the first tune of the violin starts playing, drifting with the harmony of the accordion.

“You and I both know that my knowledge of tango is as much as my knowledge for knitting, that’s right, nonexistent.”

“You know my body, don’t you?” he doesn’t wait for an answer. “Follow my lead, let your body do the talking.”

“You’re crazy.” yet you still laugh, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as he pulls you impossibly close to him, raveling in the feeling of your chest pressed to his. You’re rolling your eyes a little at the way his smirk stretches when he pinches your butt, but you instantly shiver when he places his warm calloused hand within the cutout of your dress on your lower back, skin to skin. And just like your body is made to be molded against his, you place your arm over his shoulder while the other is engulfed in his.

He steps close, too close, scandalously close. Pressing his cheek against your temple and only then meeting the eyes of Denki, that's when his smile drops, every playful act with you is gone. His magma filled eyes staring into the soul of the electrical hero.

Mine MineMineMine

Neither were stupid, Katsuki knows what Denki is doing, and Denki is well aware of Katsuki’s ability to piece shit together.

Denki is left lonesomely standing by the DJ, watching the way you two dance, the way Bakugou steps forward in your space and you stepping back to accommodate him. He seethes in his stance as you two rock on your feet, the way Bakugou handles your body with firmness and strength, yet softly watching you when you giggle at the way he spins your body effortlessly. Kaminari sees the way you let yourself be led, the way you trust Bakugou to handle you, hold you, care for you, in ways he could only hope for you to see him.

You are perfectly synchronized, almost fluid like, an extension of each other, like you had done this a million times before, practised day and night to perfect it. Bakugou takes his time twirling you across the room, seductively slow. Thighs brushing against each other with every stupid turn.

His body whispering commands to yours, daring it to misbehave, you step and lean and sway, every movement perfect and precise, like an intricate choreography that you have never learned, but your bodies remembering them. He dances with you the way he has sex—with exquisite control, infinite patience, and aggressive moves.

Huh, that's what Denki must have meant.

At that moment, your eyes catch him standing outside the dance floor, and you almost don’t recognize the man alone, filled by ugly emotions they couldn’t help but spill and show on his expression. Sour and hateful and just plain cruel looking.

Katsuki’s mouth curves in a lazy smile at how your brows furrow, spinning you in a vigorous turn so he’s the one facing him instead. You aren’t dense, you feel the eyes on you, well aware who they belong to as they burn through your back. He lowers his head, forcing you to look back up at him, your lips grazing against his, too close.

“Yer puttin’ on a show for your boy?”

“A show- no you ass, weren’t you the one that wanted to dance?” you try to lean away to scold him -yes, middance- but the blond lowers further, until you think he’s trying to get you to shut up by kissing you. Suddenly he’s dipping you low, his face stays only a few inches away from yours, your back arching beautifully.

A static sound dwells on you, followed by the buzzing of electricity. The lights flicker and you instinctively grab at Katsuki, tightening your hold against his bicep, your eyes searching his when he doesn’t lift you back up, only to find him not even looking at you.

His fingers are tingling, tips wiggling as they shoot little sparks at the sight in front of him, his golden eyes illuminating in the momentary darkness as they clash with the magma filled rubies, challenging him, taunting him, mocking him.

MineMineMine

And when Denki accidentally short circuits the entire DJ booth, the dance hall instantly quiets, a blanket of silence weighing them down and daring someone to break it. And yet, Bakugou has other plans, of course.

Sneakily, he slides his hand down from your back to your knee, firmly grabbing your leg as his eyes meet yours before lifting it to his hip. Fingers slipping under your dress and grazing your upper thighs, sending goosebumps racing across your skin, not having the courage to break eye contact until you hear the gasp of a few of the attendees. Only then does he close the gap between to press his lips against yours, the little audience you collected clapping and cheering you along.

The whistling and cheering is loud enough for you to miss the sound of Denki’s fist slam against the table and the sobs wrecking him as he drags his feet away from the scene.

BakugousBakugousBakugous

Sero grunts as he struggles to push the hotel room door open with Denki leaning his full weight on him. It takes him a couple of tries to finally get the drunk man on the bed, slapping his hands away as Denki tries to grab at and kiss the man.

“C’moooon, Hantaaaaa, s’not like you don’ wanna, look atchu, you’re takin’ off m’clothes but you don’ wanna kiss me?”

“You ass, I’m taking off your shoes because you stepped in your own vomit.”

The man gags, chugging the shoes in the trash can and helping his friend ease off of his suit jacket. “Yer a good man Hanta, say, you wanna be m’best man?” Sero laughs, shaking his head as he tries to help him lay on his stomach, “y’know, when I marry y/n.”

The silence that follows is deafening, Sero not having the heart to talk when he catches the sound of Denki sniffing and burying his head in his pillow.

“I- “

“Jus’ leave me alone, Sero.”

And he does, the only confirmation of his solitude is the echoing click of the door’s lock as Sero leaves Denki to brew in his own self loathing.

It takes Denki a few minutes to collect himself, the nausea forcing him to take off his shirt and pants, lying down on his back to feel the cool air on his chest. He doesn’t realize he has his eyes closed until he snaps them open when he hears his door click close.

There you are, radiating, mesmerizing, you’re practically glowing, standing there by his door, adorned by your… nightgown?

God, please don’t say you’re in the wrong room, please don’t say you’re in the wrong room.

“You sure you’re in the right room y/n?”

You don’t answer, you just simply, untie your robe. And Denki’s eyes practically bulge out when the silk robe slips right off of your shoulder and drops in a pile on the floor by your feet. He can’t look you in the eyes, he’s looking at every inch of exposed skin he can muster, committing every curve, every dip, every contour, every fucking thing to memory.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” that’s when he looks back up at your eyes -after shamelessly staring at your peaking nipples for a second too long - blinking twice at your words. He sits up with a struggle, “W-wait, what about Bakugou?”

“What about him?”

And honestly, that alone almost made him bust a nut.

You’re pushing at his chest until he lays back down, throwing your leg over his figure and straddling him. Instantly, he feels your warmth pressing against his strained length and his body shivers at the thumbing against it.

“You’re so good to me Denki,” you breathe, fingers combing through his hair before you take a fistful of it and lightly tug, rolling your hips against his and relishing in the whines he lets out, slender fingers reaching for your thighs and grabbing handfuls, his eyes begging for you to do it again, and when you do, he throws his head back and moans.

“You treat me so well,” you pout, nails tracing his sweaty flushed chest, peppering kisses along it, moving up until you reach his ear, biting at it and giggling when he ruts his hips up against you. Feeling your slick dampen the front of his boxers as his leaky cock does the same. “So pretty for me” he whines again, eyes blown out and chest heaving at the feeling of being kissed by you, held by you, touched by you, hell, looked at by you.

“Fuck, again, ah- d-don’t stop, pleaseplease-”

“Use your words baby, wadda you want?” he thrashes against the bed when you grind your hips against his again, the tips of his fingers buzzing and twitching when you’re lowering yourself to press your chest against his face.

“Fuck, wanna feel your pretty pussy, feel you squeeze my cock, please, just -ah, put it in.” it's all muffled from the spit collecting on tongue and the way he’s smothered by your tits but honestly he wouldn’t have it any other way.

His body refuses to move as you scoot lower, straddling his thigh and grinding your hips against it, wickedly smiling as he whines ‘nonono’ when you do, “m-my cock, my cock, please stop teasin’.” the tip of your finger traces the elastic of his boxers, giggling at the way his body jerks up and at the gasp he lets out when you snap it against his hip. Before gliding your finger against his strained cock, enjoying the way it twitches under your touch, feeling it harden against you.

You coo at him as you pull off his boxers, when you see that there is no initiation from him to move. The sight of his pretty cock with its fiery head welcoming you and you can’t help but grab at it. “Pretty boy all needy for me, hmm?” You give it a lick from the base to the tip, sucking on the head of his cock and feeling it twitch inside of your mouth, hollowing out your cheek and looking up to see the way his face flushes, his body illuminating with the crackling of the thunders around him, twitching his body before he breathes out a few times to calm himself down.

How is he so lucky? How is he blessed with having your lips wrapped around his cock, just looking at you is tightening a knot in his belly, and he can’t help but throw his head back and close his eyes in an effort to prolong his orgasm to feel even more of you.

He doesn't open his eyes until he feels a looming shadow on him, and that's when he catches sight of you again, the moon hitting your face, your glistening precum-covered lips smiling down at him.

“Want me to take care of you?” You tease, chuckling breathlessly as Denki feels your pussy on his cock, your slick covering it as you roll your hips and feel your pussy gush at the way his body shivers in ecstasy at your touch. “Yes! Please mommy ye-”

“Mommy?” Did he just say it out loud? “No, ah- fuck, no-no I didn’t say that I-” you don’t even let him talk, gyrating your hips again, covering his dick with your slick, without having your walls flutter around him just yet.

It takes a few teasing grinds of you against him to have him sobbing at this point, “m-mommy please just please! I wanna, ah” he thrashes when the tip of his leaky cock catches your clit, the lightnings he’s producing passing by his eyes and obscuring his blurry vision for a while, before he’s blessed with the sight of you beautifully arched on top of him. “In, in, wanna feel the pretty pussy, please please lemme feel the pretty pussy.” it's just meaningless babbling at this point, anything to get your walls tightening around his cock, all sensitive from being rubbed against you for god knows how long.

And when his head catches your cunt, he all but cries out at the way it clenches at the head, bucking his hips up to feel more of you. Wanting you to swallow him whole, take him all the way in. “Y’gonna just fuck into my pussy like that, hmm? Is that how you’re treatin’ mommy now?” “n-no! Ah, m’sorry pleaseplease, I just, you feel s’good, you’re s’tight aaah, wanna feel more, please I want more more more,” and he does. So, without a warning, you drop your hips and impale yourself on his cock, and for fuck’s sake all of what Denki saw what white for a few seconds, he could’ve sworn he heard a few angels singing, even.

“That what you want, hmm? Want her to take care of her pretty boy?” you pout mockingly, bouncing yourself on his lap as he tries to grab hold of your hips to guide you, but the way you’re jerking his body has his head dizzy and his sight swimming, the low buzzing of his quirk muffled by the wet slaps of your skin against his, your ass clapping against his thighs and he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget that sound, and he just settles for letting you please yourself with his cock, because if you’re gonna use him as a fucking dildo, then he wouldn’t fucking have it any other way.

Weakly snapping his hips upwards with the drops of your hips, Denki’s leg shake and it takes a few more times for his cock to fully seath itself in your tight walls for him to let go, feeling your pussy squeeze his cock for all his worth as your pants turn into whines, suddenly they’re very afar, almost like you’re underwater. Yet he’s the one feeling like his lungs are constricted when he hears the name you’re calling, and it isn’t his. “Ka- ahh- suki…”

Only then does Denki realize that you aren’t in his room, your discarded rope isn’t thrown haphazardly on the floor by the door, your slick isn’t covering his thigh or coating his dick, and the worst of all, your pussy isn’t the one that has been squeezing his cock, oh no.

It was his hand, those slender fingers wrapping around his softening cock, smeared with his cum. He lifts his hand in horror, disgust and shame eating him up, especially when his ears perk up at your sound.

“Fuck, Katsu- yesyesyes, right there, yes!” Whatever nausea he felt subsiding is coming back tenfold, burning his throat as he slaps his hand over his mouth, anything to stop himself from puking on himself.

“Ha, that what you want? Getting dicked down after havin’ fun with that fuckin’ dunce face.” The wet sounds of Bakugou’s hips slapping yours is almost making his ears bleed. “Havin’ that prick touchin’ ya like that. Fuckin’ slut, all of that to rile me up so I can fuck that tight lil pussy, that what you want?”

Denki doesn’t know what’s the last nail on the coffin, the absolute filth being spewed to you, tainting your angelic ears, that aren’t meant to hear anything but praises and confessions of love and gratitude, the fact that you’re squealing and moaning for him to fuck you even harder, or the fact that he’s listening to every squealching sound, every creak the bed made, every slam of the headboard against your shared wall, every breath, every moan, every scream, everything.

That's when Denki flings himself off of the bed and empties his stomach, right on the floor next to his bed, tears stinging his eyes as he tries to trick himself that it's because of the way his throat is burning and not because of the way his heart is shattering, feeling it wrenched from his chest and thrown on the floor, stepped on and spat on and just beaten to the point of no return.

Sniffing and lifting his head up, Denki can’t help but see red, his whole body crackling with newfound vigor, his whole body is numb, like his quirk is taking the lead, putting his consciousness on the back burner. He chuckles, despite you moaning out Katsuki’s name when you find your release, despite him calling yours as he finds his, despite hearing your giggles and the kisses he’s pressing against god knows where on your body, despite the tears streaming down his face.

The last thing Denki remembers before he lets his quirk take complete control over him, is the humming of energy, the fleeting blinding brightness, the shattering of the light bulbs all around him, the loud deafening bangs, almost like music to his ears and finally, the sound of you screeching in horror.

Hope you like it! Kithes kithes

#im not even sorry #bnhacity #denki smut #kaminari smut #denki kaminari smut #denki x reader smut #denki x reader #kaminari x reader smut #kaminari x reader #denki angst #denki x female reader #kaminari x fem!reader #nami writes

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captain-kinda-trash · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I wanted to request some headcannons for rottmnt boys with a reader who gives great hugs and gets a plush hoodie this winter, so hugging them feels like hugging a teddy bear now

Of course!! Thank you so much for the request!!

Teddy Bear (ROTTMNT Headcanons)

This was what I had in mind while writing 🤔🤔⬇

Leo

Let's just be clear about one thing

Leo LOVES your hugs

CANNOT get enough of them

Long night of fighting for justice? Huggies

Gets into an argument with Donnie? More huggies

Hell, even walking past you in the lair, he'll do little grabby hands and act like a whiny baby until he gets his daily hugs 🙄 😩

But then you get a super soft, super fluffy, super warm sweatshirt?

Dead

He's dead

You're basically like a human heater for this cold-blooded blue boy

Since you've gotten it, you can hardly stop wearing it, because it's the most comfortable thing ever-

And Leo has gotten even more excuses to hug you

"Leo, im cooking!"

"bUT YOUR SOO COMFFYYY 🥴"

Will, without a doubt ask you to carry his lazy ass, just because he wants to snuggle into your sweatshirt

And don't even get me STARTED on movie nights with him

Because what begins as a cold-blooded turtle hanging onto your arm like a baby koala

Ends up being Leo curled up in your lap or somehow wrapped around you with this hot sweater

So while he's practically purring with comfort, you are sweating like a dog

Not to mention, this bitch is just heavy

like 200+ pounds of straight muscle, so I hope you don't have to use the restroom any time soon because it's going to take a while to pry this big baby off of you

I'd also like to mention, that you don't need to tell him not to steal your hoodie

because he’s gonna do it anyways 😎💙

You discovered this one day, when you slipped the article off to bake with Mikey

After a nice batch of cookies was made, your jacket was gone and you began parading around the lair to find it

Only to see Leo, snuggled in his bed and playing on his phone, with your hoodie practically swallowing him whole

If he hadn’t looked so comfortable, you would have been angrier, and just settled for scolding him playfully for stealing it

it was hell trying to pry it off of him, though...

This turtle knows how to wrestle and he will not hesitate to kick your ass over this fluffy sweatshirt 😤

These two things (hugs and your hoodie) combined just make Leo melt into a puddle, and he couldn’t be happier to have all of your teddy bear hugs :>

Mikey

um, have you met this turtle?

KING of hugs

It’s so great how both of you share the same energy

Though he’s more cold-blooded, like Donnie, he needs all of the hugs

It’s just your thing

With Raph, you have fist bumps, Leo, you’ve got a cool handshake, Donnie is more for high-fives

And for Mikey, it’s hugs

He practically tackles you to the ground in tight hugs whenever you get home from school/work and come to the lair, like a happy little puppy

Speaking of puppies…

That’s what he says your hoodie feels like whenever it first arrives in the mail.

Immediately, you throw it on, and Mikey is all over it, petting the soft fabric and squealing in excitement

Can he please wear it?? 🥺

Little Mikey didn’t even have to ask before you shed the hoodie and let him try it on

And OH

FLUFFY...

The amount of cuteness that this turtle radiates when he’s smiling like an idiot and flapping the oversized arms around is just-

He vows to get his own since it’s so warm and comfortable

But he’s very respectful and gives it back to you

Only to attack you in another hug and lift you off of the ground because you look so adorable

“You’re like a little teddy bear!” *excited squeal!*

Mikey 100% respects your space so if you’re ever snuggling, he’s instantly aware of your getting sweaty or uncomfortable and will let up or loosen his arms

Winter days?

Snuggles all day and night

when Mikey (politely) asks to wear your jacket, he’ll throw it on and give you piggyback rides around the lair, because we love fun

And for Christmas, you get him his own, and he’s IN LOVE

Sweater buddies

He gets one in his favorite color and little ears on the hood and once a week, when they need to be thrown in the washer, you’ll keep him warm while he waits.

(Leo gets jealous of all the attention you’re giving Mikey >:o)

Donnie

we all know that Don isn’t the biggest on physical affection

If he wants a hug, usually he’d be the one to initiate, which is totally cool, since usually he’s forced into a hug by his brothers (secretly loves it tho)

He does enjoy your hugs, though he can be a bit awkward and stiff with them at first

If he’s feeling down, needs to be warmed up a bit, he’ll immediately seek your comfort

Even out of his brothers, you’re secretly his favorite

Sure he loves Dr. Delicate Touch, but sometimes Donnie would rather go to someone who isn’t very pushy with solutions, and is willing to listen

And we can also all agree that he has an immaculate fashion taste ✨💜

When he sees the fluffy sweater draped over your arm, he’s immediately running over, analyzing the fabrics, and rushing to get you to try it on

Why? Fashion show

Loves the warmth of your hoodie

And I because “it’s so soofff”

Donnie’s blood runs the coldest out of all of his brothers and he has the most sensitive shell, so he just adores your sweater

Is definitely contemplating on getting one for himself, though he wouldn’t tell you at first, because you might think he’s trying to copy your awesome style, and that would just destroy his massive ego 😩💅

He enjoys it when you sit in his lab with him, maybe rested against his side with your hoodie on, as you play on your phone/read/draw

Also up for snuggles when it’s extra chilly in the Lair, or when his brothers aren’t around, because once again, damaged ego

Movie marathons?

Hell yeah

Donnie will always make sure your comfortable before he gets comfortable on the couch, so you won’t shift around while watching the movie

He’s also very vulnerable when he takes his battle shell off, and in more ways than one

You know he’s got real, strong trust when he does so and will let you carefully hug him from behind with your hoodie on, since it’s so soft

Donnie will also snatch your massive jacket if he gets the chance, and disappear into his lab for days with it on

And he’ll never tell a soul this…

But he loves it the most, because it smells like you, 💜

so it’s like having you right beside him while you’re gone, or when he’s busy building something

Also, tries to use his classic and sarcastic charm when it comes to asking for your hoodie back

“Come on Don, it’s cold outside! I need it!”

“But would you take it from such a luxurious face as this?” 😏

“😒”

“Right, giving it back-“

He totally gets his own hoodie, by the way

Purple (obviously)

But it just isn’t the same as your own, so Donnie might just have yours on and then wrap his own around his waist

Yep

He sure does love his teddy bear 💜

Raph

Okay but Raph is an actual teddy bear-

A big, mom-friend, weapon-wielding teddy bear

He LOVES giving hugs, and most would recognize this, seeing the various pictures and instances where he pulls all three of his brothers in for a great big group hug ❤

He's constantly reminding himself that you are much much more prone to injuries than his brothers, so he holds you like a little baby when he hugs you

(Unless he gets super excited or has a really rough night, so just be aware that you might be restricted of breathing privileges in that case-)

Usually so gentle 🥺

Just picks you up and wraps those huge freaking arms around you like giant pillows

And he LOSES HIS SHIT when you come back with this fluffy ass hoodie

Has this infatuation with petting the fur and running his fingers over it

He has never felt something so soft in his entire life 😩❤

And then when he hugs you with it on-

aUGGGH ❤❤

"Why are you a like big teddy bear?!"

"Buddy, you're just getting a taste of my own world-"

Poor Raph, being the size he is and having such a spiky shell, can't just wear your hoodie like his brothers :(

I mean, sure he could take it so easily

But he doesn't want to disrespect your things, or make you upset, because this man is The Gentleman™

So, rather than asking to wear it, he'll ask to spend more time with you

Not just for the hoodie ofc, but because of your sweet gentleness and warmth

Better quit your job babe, because your new occupation?

Raph's cuddle buddy

He refuses to let you become uncomfortable, makes sure there are the right amount of pillows, blankets, and room for you to move around while you snuggle together etc.

Raph is also a heavy sleeper, so once he gets comfy and warm enough, he'll probably doze off and trap you in his big "arm cage"

Really, his nature is pure and gentle and everything you could ever imagine when it comes to hugging his little teddy bear ❤🐢

@getacactus @turtle-babe83

Hope you enjoyed this little ditty! I LOVED writing these!! 💜💜

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realcube · 4 years ago

Text

haikyuu!! boys’ reactions to you speaking 💗 uwu💗

characters: tsukishima, ushijima, yaku, kenma & iwazumi

thank you anon for this cute request 💕 idk what i just wrote but i had fun 👍

IWAIZUMI & KENMA’S ARE AGED UP! MUTURE THEMES - MINORS DNI

tw// fluff, swearing, uwu language, cwinge

kenma’s hcs tw// sexual themes, implied switch!reader, phone sex(?), mentions of a blowjob, mentions of punishment

iwaizumi’s hcs tw// breeding kink, fem!reader, orgasm denial

Kei Tsukishima

you realised he didn’t like it so you did it just to annoy him LMFAO

he was scrolling through tiktok and a girl popped up on his fyp talking like that, so he snarled and immediately flicked it away, muttering something along the lines of ‘why do people speak like that? do they think it’s cute? ‘cause it’s really not; it’s just embarrassing.’

so you wasted no time in responding, ‘sowwy? what was that?’

HELL 👏 FIRE

his blood literally ran cold, he was aware that you liked taking the piss but he didn’t expect you to do it to this extent

‘what did you just say?’ he murmured, silently praying that he had just misheard you

you rolled your eyes before scoffing ‘nothing.’ you deepened your voice, just playing around at this point tbh

tsukishima hummed in agreement, deciding not to inquire further as he figured that he must’ve heard the echo of the girl’s voice in his head rather than yours

so he was just about go back to scrolling until he heard you coo in a high-pitched from behind him, ‘tsukishima is a lil’ bitch.’

‘(Y/N), FUCKING STOP!’ he let a throaty scream at you

‘you’re so boring, tsukki-’ you spoke, quickly cutting yourself off so you could switch to your uwu voice, ‘or should I say; bowing.’

you said, hopeful that your voice would make it clearing that you meant ‘boring’ rather than the act of playing an instrument with a bow

‘go to hell.’ he grumbled, trying his best to tune you out by pulling his headphones over his ears

‘babe~’ you purred, shuffling over to him and peppering kisses along the nape of his neck as you were feeling extra evil today, ‘wuv you~’

‘jail.’ tsukishima simply stated as he switched over to Spotify so he could blare some Mother Mother to drown out the sound of your voice

the worst part was that he couldn’t even tell if he liked it or not PFFT

like it was cute but the fact you weaponised it against him annoyed him

but you were also giving him kithes so he couldn’t exactly complain 💞

Morisuke Yaku

ok don’t even lie yaku does a variant of the uwu voice whenever he’s trying to insult kuroo IUGBEIGVA

it’s something like ‘aww, kuwoo, does your lil’ undewdeveloped bwain not undewstand algebwa?’ but in a mocking way yk?

so when a he watches a lil’ tabby cat approach you on the street, then you busted out the uwu voice that he had never heard before- he was taken aback

at first he was like ‘woah why are you making fun of that cat?’ bc he always associated that voice with ridicule LMFAO

but when he processed all the nice things you were saying he realised that you were being nice lol

so then he was like ‘awwww 🥺 (y/n) + cat = SO FKN CUTE!! 💕💗💖’ *click click* and he just starts taking photos

he probably puts them on his private story with the caption ‘their an angel 😍’

(then kuroo probably replies with ‘they’re*’) (don’t ask why yaku put him on his private story ✋)

anyway, he’s probably so fond of the voice too like ofc he thinks it’s cute

bc it’s a lil’ kitten and you’re talking to it in a high-pitched voice as if it can understand you SO FKN CUTE

he’s not too effected by it tho- it’s mostly how well you get on with the cat that he really admires

then he couched down beside you to talk to the cat too and y’all had a whole conversation with it in uwu

‘aww, look! are you hungwy, baby?’ you asked the cat as it licked the back of it’s paw

‘i think, it is!’ yaku continued, aware that if anybody from school caught him doing this, he’d pass away on the spot but what can he say? he’s soft for you (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

‘i have some blueberries in my bag, you can have some if you say please.’ he told the cat

you were both met by the cat’s blank - but adorable - stare, accompanied by silence until the kitten let out a faint, ‘mew’

‘AWWWWWW!!! 💞💕💖🥺👏 ’ you both squealed in unison, impressed by the kitten’s response

‘it understands us!’ you gasped while applauding the cat for it’s excellent communication skills

‘the voice must work!’ yaku concluded as he scrambled to throw his bag off his back and rummage through it in search of the tub of blueberries

you nodded, watching in awe as yaku pulled out the tub to carefully pick out the plumpest berries and feed them to the cat

yaku noticed your expression out of the corner of his eye and chuckled, ‘what?’

‘you’re so cute.’ you snickered, lighting bopping his nose with your index finger as he continued to allow the cat to feed out of the palm of his hand

a furious blush immediately covered his cheeks as he hastily turned his head away to hide it - in a typical anime fashion, ‘be quiet.’

Kenma Kuzome

it’s a sex thing-- it’s 100% a sex thing

a kink perhaps?

ngl he loves it when you do the voice in bed

like don’t ask why it turns him on so much

he’s weak for you whenever you do the voice tbh

BUT it’s only hot when you do it

when any other person does it - especially if it’s over text - he literally gags 🤢🤢🤢

when a streamer he watches does the voice, he’s just thinks ‘ew ✋ that isn’t cute. pls stop.’

but when you do it- boner alert pfft

especially when you moan in that voice yES HE LOVES THAT

you just execute it in a way these other bitches just can’t, okay? 💅 IUERBGFERIBG

he doesn’t mind putting the voice on sometimes if you like it when he does it but he’s really embarrassed by it 🙈

he’ll try to say something in the voice while you’re rearranging his guts for a change and you’re praising him like 👏👏👏 ‘awh, precious kenma bb.i love that voice on you, i might just let you cum early--’

and he’s fucking groaning from pain, pleasure and humiliation

‘never again.’ was the single coherent thought he could form

you’re only giving like 20% of the time but if you happen to giving on a day that you’re feeling especially evil, you might make him do the voice in exchange for orgasm privileges

but he gets you back for it though

you’d call him, whining and pleading for him to help you with the throbbing between your legs or at the very least, give you permission to touch yourself

but considering that the day prior, you had tortured his ass to the point were he was now struggling to sit down, ofc he was just like ‘no ❤’ when you ask for his assistance

even after your continuous begging, he didn’t budge

‘don’t you dare put your hands on yourself until i get home. i’m leaving right now so i should be back in half an hour but if you keep pestering me like a little bitch, then i’ll be sure to go extra slow on the highway.’

although, for kenma ‘extra slow’ is probably the speed limit lmao

(istg he drives like he’s in mario kart)

however, half an hour was just too long 😩 i mean, you had probably been on call with him for 5 minutes already and it took you 20 minutes to get him to pick up the phone so by now, you were clearly on the brink of madness

‘kitten~’ you whined, desperately trying to think of a way to convince kenma to aid you

then you remembered; his weak spot

‘pwease, baby?’ you softened and raised the pitch of your voice

kenma perked up as he realised what you were trying to do, the tips of his ears burning, ‘don’t bother to try that with me, (y/--’

‘i’ll suck you off when you come back.’ you promised, keeping the voice on, the aching getting worse and worse by the second

kenma was now partially able to relate to your circumstance as he began to feel a straining of his own, between his legs at your cutesy tone along with the image of the last time you blew him tormenting his mind

‘whatever. but only use your hands. i can tell when you use a toy so don’t even try; or else i’ll dick you down ‘til the sun rises- okay bye.’

atm the moment, that hardly sounded like a punishment but then you reflected back on how you’d be crying for a mercy after the fourth round with kenma so- yeah

anyway, moral of the story, if you perform the voice well enough, it’s basically kenma’s weakness so use it wisely

Hajime Iwaizumi

you first did the voice in front of him while you had a friend’s baby in your arms and you were trying to communicate with it

it kinda looked like

you: hewwo babyy~ who’s the most precious thing? you are!

the baby: 🤠

the parent: 🙂

iwa: 😶

iwa ON THE INSIDE: breeding kink go brrrr 😩 i want to put a baby in her so bad- she’ll scream my name in that fucking voice tonight

and he was right

cut to him pounding you while demanding that you say his name in ✨the voice✨ or else you won’t be allowed to cum

ofc you had too much pride for that so you just let him dick you down and cum whether he likes it or not but he could tell that was the plan you had in mind so he suddenly pulled out just as you were about to reach your high

he looked at you with a mean scowl, ‘fucking say it or i’ll stop right now.’

if he were to stop, it would kinda be a punishment for him too but he didn’t care- anything to see his lovely gf suffer tbh 😇

also he could get off to you fingering yourself, struggling to orgasm- he’s done it before and he’ll gladly do it again if you don’t say his damn name

‘iwa..’ you groaned, gripping at the sheets as you anticipated him sliding his cock back into you

‘in the voice.’ iwaizumi reiterated, delivering a hard smack to the side of your thigh out of annoyance

you hissed at the sharp impact , gulping to lubricate your dry throat before choking out in your best imitation of the voice he desired, ‘iwa~’

he was only half-satisfied with what you uttered but i mean, it got the job done

his dick was throbbing, practically begging for the comfort of your warm cunt once again so he hastily slipped back in, letting out a low groan as he did so

so he’d continue hammer you from behind, probably muttering incoherent things about your babies and your voice while doing so but you chose to pay little attention to it as you couldn’t help but focus on your own intense pleasure

once he finally climaxed, he did it inside you which you wasn’t surprising as y’all had already established that you love being being filled up and he loves filling you up 💕

but then he insisted that y’all go for another few rounds to increase the chance of pregnancy

like- sir-

you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were on birth control

bc surely......he would’ve known

but he didn’t

you eventually told him that you had no interest in coming off birth control and he wasn’t mad LMAO he didn’t even want a baby tbh he was just caught up in the moment

yeah no but if you do the voice again, the cycle will continue

Wakatoshi Ushijima

you were both hanging out in your bedroom, doing your own things, and you were sending your friend a (video) snap so you ironically used the uwu voice

ofc this caught his attention so he shifted his gaze off of his revision sheets and onto you, shooting you a weird look

you couldn’t help but snicker, turning to him and continuing with your little impression, ‘can i hewp you?’ you tried to ask in all seriousness but you couldn’t suppress the smile that was tugging on the corners of your lip

were you a little high? yes

ushijima just blinked rapidly, wondering why you sound like a cuter version of mickey mouse all of a sudden

was it a trend?

or maybe it was for one of those ‘tiktoks’?

either way, ushijima couldn’t help what he said next

‘no. i’m fiwne.’

IUERSBGTOHAROHSGBGFRO

HE SAID IT LIKE ‘fi - whine’ THO

you passed away 💀⚰

‘TOSHI!!!’ you screamed, feeling your soul leave your body

ushijima gasped, thinking that you had just been possessed or sumn, ‘hm?’

once he realised that you were in fact sane, he figured that your reaction must have something to do with his response

‘did i say something wrong?’ his lips curling into the tiniest of smiles, simply because you looked so joyous so ofc he was he was happy seeing you happy

‘nope! please say it again, toshi! i’m beggin’ ya’

‘no.’

although he loved hearing you laugh more than anything, the man had his limits

ngl he doesn’t mind when you do it - it just doesn’t especially effect him, that’s all

you could just randomly start talking like that during a conversation and he’ll just go from 😐 to 😐

but he gets butterflies when you call him ‘baby’ which is something you usually pickup whenever you put on the voice lol <3

pls call him ‘baby’ or ‘babe’ more he just wants to feel cared for and loved for a change instead of always having to constantly put on a front of ‘big, stoic man with no feeling that you can push around to your hearts content’ around literally everyone. sometimes he just wants to come home and feel like he can actually express himself and be soft without getting ridiculed

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 4 years ago

Text

#196

“Put everything in. Good boy. Don’t look back. Get over here and kneel in front of me. Yeah I know it’s cold and you are naked. But I’m warm and that’s all that matters. But, if you want to warm up, take my cock out and stick it in your mouth. No, don’t suck. Drink. I was going to save my load of piss for your ass, but this will also do. Just swallow as fast as it comes. Tastes nasty huh? You’ll get used to it. You’ll crave it. If not, well, then it sucks to be you. By you putting the rest of your belongings in that dumpster, you really are giving up everything to become my property to do with as I see....

“No more connection to your family that kicked you out. No more of your daddy treating you like the shit you are. No more of your cousin raping and breeding your ass. Now I get the privilege of doing all that. You knew that treatment was a small part what I offered when you answered my ad looking for property.

“Becoming my toilet was always a part of that. Today we start with your urinal training. Full toilet training will come later, and don’t ever think that it won’t. Good boy, other that some dribble on the outside of your mouth. Normally that would be cause for immediate punishment, but hey it’s your 18th birthday today and you are also pledging your existence to me, so I’ll cut you some slack. When I picked you up at our meeting place just after midnight last night, you accepted that I would be controlling every aspect of your life. By putting everything you left home with in that dumpster just now, there’s no turning around.

“Now it’s the morning, and I can inspect you properly. In the morning sun, I can see you did a good job shaving. Other than your eyebrows, no other hair on your body. You seem to take to the role of property quite naturally. The collar I have on you seems to fit right. After you fully earn my trust, we’ll swap out the shock collar for a regular one. One thing about being naked out in this cool morning weather, is that you get severe shrinkage. Your pecker was small to begin with. But look at it now, it’s non-existent. Stand up. This is your chastity cage. I told you last night to jerk off before midnight, as it will be your last for a long while. This is to ensure that you don’t. With your pecker shrunk, it goes on real easy. Damn, this lock is bigger that the pecker it locks up. Your balls remain exposed for further use and abuse. From this point on, you are never stand to piss like a real man. You will always squat down, or if you do need a toilet, you will sit. And for god sake, don’t ever sit on the toilet seat, the cold porcelain is good enough for you.

“Now turn around and bend over. Last night’s fuck was a struggle for you. I know my cock is quite thick. This fuck is going to be even more brutal; it needs to be. Hands on the asphalt and cunt hole up high. One glob of spit is all the lube you will get. Feel how heavy my cock is. It’s going right to the root… now. Holy shit you are tight. That’s it scream mother fucker. Keep screaming, it’s only making me harder. Too bad you don’t have your cherry. I would have smashed that fucker right. You will eventually be able to take this daily.

“And right on time, look up, we have a semi coming in. Don’t you fucking move. They are going to see you naked bent over on all fours; they need to hear you screaming. And my cock is still going to split you in two as they drive up. Don’t worry bitch boy, these are two of my friends. Focus your attention on my cock and be the hole you are. Me fucking you in front of others is what I want; it’s usually what really gets me off.

“Wait. That felt good. Do that again, clamp down on my cock just like what you did. So you like to be used in front of others? A simple ‘Yes SIR’ will do…. I don’t know what your cousin did to train you right, but he did it right. Hey they are getting out and making their way over here, so stop the screaming….

“Dave, Chris, what’s going on?… I’m just enjoying my new pussy. I claimed her last night at midnight. She just now threw out her shit and took my collar…. No, not a real pussy, she’s a fag. She’s been contacting me for a few months begging me to take her and own her when her dad kicked her out on her 18th birthday. This is her birthday fuck. I was about to nut when you guys pulled in. You two interested in using her?… I figured you would. Times haven’t changed. Dave shove your cock into her mouth. Fuck yeah. Make her take it all. I’m getting close. Fuck yeah. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh yes. Fuck.

“Whew!… Pussy, your cunt is gold! I need some rest. These men are going to be using you for a bit. They are going to be rough on you. That’s what I want. This is your life now. I hope you have the stamina…. Guys, she’s all yours. I plan on heading out in about three hours. When you are done make sure she finds her way back to my cab…. Sure you can abuse her in your cab. Yeah it’s cold. I have no idea how she stands the cold out here. Hey pussy, make me proud.”

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lovelyghostlyharmony · 3 years ago

Text

Yandere! Taehyung x reader

Taehyung liked you. Taehyung really liked you. That was why he had chosen you, wasn’t it? Because you were easy on the eyes and you had a head on your shoulders. Your heart was pure — at least, pure enough for him — and the sex between the two of you was great. The synergy was there. Personal chemistry was present. The only thing was that you were the first woman he had ever really liked this much.

This was his first real, committed relationship. He didn’t feel constrained or held down by your demand for exclusivity. On the contrary, it scared him how okay he was with it. To give up his freedom like that for an average girl like you? He would have laughed in anyone else’s face and told them to take a hike. Not you, though. And that fucking scared him.

Three months. It had taken you three months to burrow your way into his heart. You were some sort of witch. Perhaps you were a seductress. Yeah, that had to be it. There couldn’t be any other reason for his sudden, obsessive thoughts and overprotective behavior.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Tae, that’s my brother.”

“Didn’t like how he looked at you.”

“…did you miss the part where I said he’s my brother?!”

Who gave a fuck if a man was related to you? That wouldn’t stop him from making a move if he wanted to. There were some sick fucks in this world. Didn’t you understand that? Didn’t you understand that he was just trying to keep you safe and his?

But no, you couldn’t simply listen to him. You were independent. He had once liked that about you. Now, however, it pissed him off. It got in the way of you being the submissive woman he needed you to be. It needed to be squished.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a darkness lurking within your boyfriend. Sure, he could be mean, and sure, he pulled some tricks that bordered on abusive, but those things were child’s play compared to what truly lied below the surface. He could be far, far worse than he was. All it took was your love and attention to sow the seeds of darkness. You had made him comfortable enough to expose his genuine traits. If he was being honest with himself, this was your fault. If you hadn’t told him you would love him regardless of how much he changed during his work, then maybe he would have been able to help himself.

You stupid fucking girl. You should have never tempted a man like him with vows as impure as that. Had you thought him to be so noble that he would overlook your words and do the socially acceptable thing? No — you had to know that saying such a thing would serve to tempt a monster like him.

The game started with little quips here and there; nothing major. During a small argument, he had called you an ugly bitch beneath his breath. Of course, he had apologized after you had caught it and started crying. Although, that’s when he had first realized how insecure you were. Your appearance, your intelligence, the way you spoke, your personality traits — they were all free game. You didn’t like yourself as much as you let on. He would expose this gradually, and by the time you finally realized what he was doing, you wouldn’t be able to leave. You would think you were worthless. You would think you were nothing. You would be stuck with him, the sole one who could ever love a pathetic sack of crap like you.

Taehyung knew how much you would suffer through this process, but how else was he supposed to secure you at his side? You were beautiful and capable and bright and and and— God, you were his everything. In such a short amount of time, you were his everything. That was why he couldn’t risk you leaving.

He made it a goal to make you feel like utter garbage at every twist and turn. One day, he would no longer need to do this, but until that day came, he would just have to suck it up and be the villain.

The next technique he tested out was backhanded remarks beyond an argument setting. He would never forget how fast your head had snapped around to stare at him, eyes hurt and facial expression confused. You had been perplexed as to what had warranted him to say a thing like that. He had maintained his composure, however, and merely raised a brow. He had treated the circumstance like your reaction had been the odd thing about it all — not what he had said.

“I said your fuckin’ hair was nice!” He had snapped, rolling his eyes at your audacity.

You had whispered meekly, “you said it would be nice… if I bothered to get it trimmed every once in a while.”

To which he had shrugged callously. “Want me to make you an appointment somewhere? I know a guy that can work with anythin’.”

Much to his shock, you had asked him for the number of his stylist a few days following this event. You had even admitted that he had been right to say that your hair didn’t look the best. And that’s when Taehyung knew that you responded best to emotional conditioning in this horrendous art form.

So, when you tried to exit the house a few weeks later, he amped it up a bit. You were getting weaker by the day. Sometimes, you wouldn’t even want to look at yourself in the mirror. He’d had the pleasure of witnessing the grimaces you made when you were brushing your teeth in the morning; you didn’t even think you were sub-par anymore.

Why? Because in his eyes, you could always be better.

Much better.

You came into the kitchen with a slight bounce in your step. Taehyung didn’t even have to look up from his paperwork to know that you had done yourself up nice tonight because you thought you were going to an office party. Keyword: thought. The only thing that was going anywhere tonight was the rest of your self-esteem. Once that was gone, he could focus on your singularity. He couldn’t have you thinking you could exist without him, just as much as he couldn’t have you thinking you were anything without him.

“Okay, hun, I think I’m gonna head out,” you said softly, your voice low and your eyes cast to the ground.

You were acting exactly as he had taught you. Those who were lesser than him didn’t get the privilege of viewing him, in all his glory. He hadn’t assumed that this behavior would extend beyond the bedroom, but fuck, was he glad it had.

“What’s with all that dumbass makeup?” He grunted with a frown. “Look like a fuckin’ clown.”

Your face shrunk. Sheepishly, you turned to look at yourself in the nearby wall mirror. You didn’t think it was too much at the time you had applied it. It was a bit of eyeliner and mascara. You had covered a few of your blemishes and bruises with foundation, too, but he couldn’t have known that. Taehyung didn’t take an interest in your makeup. It was because of this that you valued his opinion so much. If he could see a flaw in what you had applied, it was probably more accurate than what you saw.

You were biased; he had helped you realize this.

“Do I?” You questioned absently.

He finally afforded you with a cold glare when you turned around to face him. The disappointed expression on your face revealed it all; you were doubting yourself yet again. You were waiting for him to give you the validation you needed but didn’t quite deserve. Self-esteem wasn’t free, though; you had to earn that shit. Hadn’t he taught you anything?

“C'mere,” he demanded, eyes twinkling with excitement he didn’t even bother trying to mask. “Sit on my lap, stupid woman.”

You trudged over to where he was situated at the kitchen table, pouting gently. You plopped down atop his lap. You didn’t like how he flinched upon impact.

“Fuck, you gainin’ weight or some shit?” He hissed, flexing his thighs beneath your ass. “Almost made my damn legs buckle.”

It was false, of course. You had gained no more weight than when you had first met him. Nonetheless, you didn’t need to know that. You only needed to feel insecure. You only needed to listen to what he said.

“Oh no,” you whispered, voice akin to the soft squeaking of a field mouse. “I haven’t weighed myself in a while.”

“No fuckin’ shit,” your boyfriend murmured.

Tears were welling up in your depressed orbs, and Taehyung thought you were gorgeous. He embraced you, holding you firmly to his chest. Time to swoop in with that validation before the sobbing began. He hated it when you cried like a little bitch. He couldn’t deny the rush of power it gave him, though.

“Hey, you know that crap doesn’t matter to me,” he muttered, brushing away your watery streams with rough fingers. “Love your ass no matter what.” But he had to top it off with an insult, of course. “Would be nice if your tits were bigger though. Remember my ex? She had some fucking knockers.”

Couldn’t have you getting a big head when he had you where he wanted you.

Masterlist

Yandere masterlist

@mwitsmejk

#yandere bts x reader #yandere taehyung #yandere taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #tw abuse #tw yandere themes

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babyflossy · 4 years ago

Text

twentieth floor | s.jn

pairing; johnny x reader

requested; nope! this is just pure self indulgence

summary; johnny’s office is thankfully high enough off the ground to prevent disclosing your activities to passerbyers, and you love to exercise that privilege.

genre/warnings; smut, kinda dom!johnny but not really, unedited as per, i can’t really remember what exactly is in it but theres’s nothing extreme (slight choking i think, hinted size kink but not really), see y’all in hell ig

word count; 2.5k

if there was one thing you loved more than johnny, it was johnny dressed in a suit. the way the slacks melt around his thighs, the way his shirt emphasises the bulge of his biceps - it did things to you. the clean cut navy material frames his face and accentuates the strong line of his jaw. it was truly irresistible, and your thoughts can rarely stay innocent when you do see him in such clothing.

this is the predicament you find yourself in currently, finding it impossibly hard to look away from the tiny slither of skin that shows as he loosens his tie and pops the top button of his shirt open. it's almost the most inappropriate time to be thinking like this, with a meeting well under way and the stress lines that form whenever he frowns making themselves comfortable on his forehead.

but, alas, with one look at you johnny knows exactly what's going through your mind.

and he smirks.

he does nothing except paint the most irresistible smirk on his face that makes you want to nothing less than walk over to him and forcefully remove it. with your own lips, perhaps. you hope no one else notices the way his eyes narrow at you when you cross and uncross your legs repeatedly just to feel something in your desperation.

ten minutes more pass with you unable to do anything except sip your water and try not to think about the growing ache between your legs, the heat raising in the room. a breeze passes through the blinds and you feel goosebumps raise along the exposed skin of your legs; johnny notices and rubs a warm palm down your thigh in an attempt to combat your coldness. it achieves the opposite of his goal, however, and more goosebumps rise as his hand dips dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

you can tell your reaction to his touch has not gone undetected and you pout at the way he stares down at you, something darker about his gaze that makes you shiver. despite the other people in the room, you feel yourself lose focus in the meeting, the objective long forgotten as you basically undress your boyfriend with your mind.

the hand still hasn’t moved and you wrap your fingers around his to stop it moving further upwards, not prepared to hide your arousal from a room full of your co-workers. up to now, johnny’s actions have remained out of sight from everyone else, the shiny black table covering your legs completely.

a few more minutes pass of you sitting with bated breath, trying to ignore the presence of the man next to you and simultaneously trying to stop the image of his bending you over the cold surface of the meeting table in his office and pounding you until you scream. the task it impossibly harder than you originally thought, and soon your mind has wandered to johnny fucking you against the floor-length windows spanning the far wall, his tie around your mouth to keep you quiet–

a nudge to your side whips you out of your daydream and you try to ignore the way your cheeks are suddenly burning.

“what do you think?” well, shit.

“hm?”

“what do you think? about the plan?”

for a second your heart stops, unsure of what to say considering you haven’t the faintest clue what the plan is even for. you chance a glimpse at johnny and watch in horror as he just raises his eyebrow in question, clearly enjoying the panic that must be evident on your face.

“well,” you start, not even sure where you’re going, “i, uh– i think it’s a good starting plan.” it comes out as a question and you’re sure your facade is slipping. “could use some improvements, maybe,” you offer timidly, glancing around to see how your co-workers are taking your weak attempt at feigning interest. “i’ll– i’ll, uh, look over it later and get back to you.”

“perfect, thank you.” the relief you feel is outstanding and johnny shoots you an amused smile as you zone back out, letting the chatter be drowned out.

after what feels like hours, but is most likely minutes, people start trickling out of the room until finally only you and johnny are left. for a second neither of you move until he pushes on the table so his chair rolls backwards. without breaking your gaze he stands, walking over to lean on his desk, reaching over to pull at the blinds on his office door. you feel warm pool in the bottom of your stomach when he motions you over with a flick of his fingers.

“well done in the meeting, by the way, you really had some fantastic ideas.” the words would almost sound sincere if they weren’t accompanied by a sarcastic smile on his face.

you stand in front of him, slotting between his legs and resting your hands on his chest to toy with the buttons of his shirt. warm hands wrap around your waist and you lean up to press a light kiss to the space just under his ear lobe. the shiver he fails to suppress makes you smile.

“well, you looked so good i couldn’t concentrate.” you reply, loosening his tie with your fingers and popping open the first few buttons.

“you can’t even last a day without me touching you?” as he says it, he trails his fingers down the side of your face, eyes admiring your features delicately. the way he’s looking at you is so tender you feel a different kind of warmth roll through you, love. “can you, angel?”

“you know i can’t.”

johnny’s hands move from your waist down to your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him. through the material of his slacks you feel the undeniable hardness and look up to see a smirk plastered along his lips again. matching his playful expression, you reach down and start palming him lightly, teasingly. for a second his cockiness slips and you hear the faintest murmur of a moan before his hand wraps around your wrist and pulls it away.

“well, then,” his words have just a faint whisper of their previous power, the soft tone comforting in your ear even with the dirty undertones. “i can’t keep my princess waiting, can i?”

in an instance, you’re flipped over so his body cages you against the desk, the sharp edge digging into the backs of your thighs. his hands are no longer tame and gentle, they skim up your legs and pull the fabric of your skirt with them. when johnny starts kneading the flesh of your ass you let out an involuntary moan that he swallows when his lips meet yours.

there’s nothing sweet about the kiss, only raw and desperate and everything you need right now. he tips your jaw up to deepen it, teeth clashing and noses brushing against each other. you faintly wonder if he remembered to lock the door before realising you don’t actually care, the heat rising between you is enough to push all sensible thoughts out of your head.

one of johnny’s thighs pushes in between your own and you let yourself rest on it, moaning out when the fabric of his suit brushes your most sensitive spots. a look of glee crosses his face at the noise, free hands moving to pull you further down onto his leg to strengthen the feeling. you’ve been on edge for so long that when you experimentally roll your hips onto his leg you can already feel the pit in the bottom of your stomach deepening and the whine you let out tells johnny exactly that.

“my poor baby.” he coos with a devilish smile. “needing me so badly.”

you don’t have time to think as he flips you around so you’re facing the desk, your dress bunching at your waist. johnny slips a hand between you to rub at your clit over your panties and you try to conceal the moan clawing up your throat. when’s he tired of being constricted, he yanks the thin material down your legs and helps you step out of them, his fingers now without a barrier are cold against your core and you shiver.

“fuck, that feels so good,” your words are stuttered and breathless but johnny hears them just fine, setting a strong pace on your clit that has you moaning out too loudly for his office.

“i know baby,” he leans down to whisper in your ear, fingers not letting up. “but you have to be quiet for me, okay?” for a moment he slows the movement of his hands to a standstill until you nod.

to your surprise you feel the fingers of his free hand poking at your mouth and you accept them in without complaint. they cut off your ability to speak and johnny gets no verbal warning of when you tip over the edge, only the shaking of your legs and the strangled noises escaping around his hand.

“feel better?” even without looking at him you can see the cocky smile on his face.

you can feel wetness collecting at the tops of thighs as you clench them together, trying to gather the strength you were stripped of from your orgasm. the metallic clink of a belt only makes you wetter, knowing what comes next and more than excited for it.

within seconds you feel a hand prying your legs open again and the head of his cock slipping between your folds. the air changes and you can almost feel johnny’s demeanor switch as he starts to push into you, hand leaving your mouth only to close around your throat. this is always your favourite part, feeling his attitude drop from the normal sweet johnny to the man that chokes you and calls you his bitch.

to say you were hoping for that now in an understatement.

with nothing blocking your mouth you’re free to moan as load as you want when he finally starts easing himself into you. the delicious burn from the stretch is addicting and you clench around him involuntarily. “what do you say?” johnny asks in your ear, voice so much lower than usual.

“thank you.”

“thank you what?”

“thank you, daddy.”

it’s the final straw he needs before he bottoms out inside you, not waiting a moment for you to adjust to his size before he starts pulling back out. it takes you a few thrusts to get over the sharp stinging but when it dissolves into pleasure you find your mouth dropping open. johnny hits every deep spot inside of you that no one else has, a heavenly feeling when paired with the rough pad of his thumb flicking your clit once again. it’s still sensitive from your first orgasm and in no time you feel another building.

johnny seems to sense this and you whine in annoyance when he pulls out of you, looking behind to glare at him. this only seems to amuse him. “oh, i’m sorry, angel, where you about to come?”

one thing you’ve learnt about johnny over the years is he never asks rhetorical questions, meaning you were expected to answer all of them. he quirks an teasing eyebrow as he waits for your words. “yes, are you happy now?” but your weak anger only serves to amuse him more.

“very.” he purrs in your ear when you turn away, hands gripping your hips and pulling you up from the table. you wonder for a second what he’s doing and feel your inside swirl when he starts walking you towards the window. when you’re close enough you bring your hands up to steady yourself against the cold glass and johnny resumes his place behind you. “this is what wanted, isn’t it?”

finding yourself unable to speak, you simply nod and hope it suffices an answer for him. it seems to as no other words are spoken between you as johnny wraps an arm around you to rest his hand on your abdomen. you know this is one of his favourite things, to feel himself pushing into you through your skin, and you try not to shiver at the coldness of his hand on the bare skin under your skirt.

your eyes follow the cars on the roads 100 metres below, thankful that the height of johnny’s office would make it near impossible for anyone to notice you. it distracts you momentarily until you feel the tip of his cock lining up with your entrance, rubbing up between your folds a few times to collect your wetness. your mouth is caught in a silent scream when he finally does, the feeling again too much.

once again, it takes not much more than a few strokes of johnny’s cock hitting your sweet spot until your legs are shaking. you can feel your heart pounding and your moans are uncontrollable as he presses his hand firmly against you to feel himself slip in and out. you can almost feel the effect it has on him as his hips start stuttering against you, signalling his impending release.

“fuck, daddy,” you can’t help but drive him on, reaching down to cover his hand with your own, leaving one against the smooth pane of glass. he presses a soft kiss to the delicate skin behind your ear in response to the way you curl your fingers around his, a rare moment of tenderness breaking through his dominant exterior.

the contrast has your head spinning and you let yourself fall over the edge to the dirty words he whispers in your ear, back arching and eyes screwing shut. the sight of you coming undone around him, so exposed where anyone walking on the street could see you has johnny falling apart seconds later, hips faltering as he releases into you.

there’s a few seconds of heavy breathing and calm as you both try and come down from your highs, chests heaving. you pull your skirt down after he pulls out of you, spinning to lean against the window and throwing him a lazy smile, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his cum starting to spill down your legs.

“i love you.” he murmurs into the air between you before kissing you, hands suddenly gentle and loving.

“mmh,” you hum in acknowledgment, happily watching the dramatic scowl paint his features. “i love you, too.” the smile is instant. “even if you drip cum over my work clothes, you idiot.”

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rein-ette · 3 years ago

Note

Are you still working on your Commonwealth study? Do you have any thoughts on Arthur's relationships with his colonies apart from Canzuk + US?

Not properly, unfortunately with exams and then work I haven’t had mental/emotional capacity to do real research (and probably won’t for a while 😔). But I have continued to think about and develop certain relationships, and I think I also have old hcs I’ve never shared, so I’ll put those down!

Born into the Empire

Australia

@oumaheroes has already done such great hcs on him idk what I can add, but basically he was a little bit of a rowdy child, always breaking windows and shattering fancy pots, never able to sit still. I think rainbow once mentioned that Ken (short for Kenneth, my name for Aus) was a lot like England as a child in his curiosity and energy, and I wholeheartedly agree. But I think Arthur’s intensity was more inwardly directed, pushing him to pursue and master new talents and learn whatever he could, while Australia is a little more carefree in his love for the outdoors, exploring, jumping around and off things, little wild animals. Unfortunately for him, he was born in a period of the empire when Arthur was very serious about his kids education, and therefore often praised those who studied hard and learned fast, which really just wasn’t Australia’s cup of tea. Australia took this kinda hard and thought he was the “dumb” one in the family that Arthur was always scolding, but in reality Arthur knew and appreciated that Australias interests lay elsewhere — he was just a frustrated, tired, parent who really wanted to give his kids the best while also holding his empire together, two goals that were never going to fit well in the end and would completely exhaust him.

As Australia’s grown older he’s realized a bit of this (not entirely, though) and also that 1) he really did break a lot expensive things and cause general mayhem 2) scolding us Arthur’s way of showing he cares, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have payed attention to him at all 3) despite being a penal colony, he was still one of Arthur’s more “legitimate” children (being white and a boy) and was therefore still incredibly privileged — never having to question, for example, why it was that Arthur was his dad, if it should be this way, or if he had a seat at the family table at all (more on this later).

New Zealand

Zee, from birth, was a clear favourite. Obedient, calm, quietly intelligent, he would also later develop a blistering sense of humour which combined with his appearance made it overwhelmingly clear who’s child he was. If Ken questioned his place in the family because of his poor academic record and others did because of their appearance/race/other complications, Kaelan never had such problems; his siblings called him the “prince.” Zee, however, also had a charm that, like Matthew, endeared him to his siblings and mostly protected him from jealousy, though he certainly still had issues with being called a try hard, daddy’s boy, bossy, arrogant. Certainly as a child Zee was a little prideful and, under that unperturbed demeanour, willful, but he grew out of it by the 20th century and became one of those most trusted by Arthur, second only to Matthew. He’s also always been inseparable from his brother Australia despite their differences, and today they both have one of the healthiest and most amicable relationships with Arthur of any nation, let alone former colonies (family road trips, every summer).

Bermuda

I absolute fell in love with this girl after reading about here, once, in this fic by @shachaai, and after that my mind just ran away with me. For me, her human name given to her by Arthur just has to be Ariel — for the little mermaid reference, yes, symbolizing her connection to the sea and stunning good looks, but also because:

1. Ariel is a biblical name, meaning lion of God. This makes sense to me, because Bermuda began as a Portuguese trade post, so Arthur definitely consulted our resident bad catholic Port before naming her.

2. Ariel used to be boys name. This also makes sense, because I hc Bermuda was and still is a tomboy. Bitch is fierce, takes no prisoners, and has zero filter. Her letters to Arthur, which all the colonies sent so Arthur could keep an eye on things, were full of shit like “I swear to god if the Spanish don’t get out of my waters I might eat one of them,” and “father, I asked you for destroyers two months ago, and yet you sent them to Hong Kong — could you explain this most unusual occurrence, surely it’s not that you forgot”, and “thank you for the harpoon on my birthday, I caught a small shark a couple days ago and have sent you some of its teeth for your collection.” Arthur tolerates this attitude because he’s weak when it comes to girls; he absolutely spoils his daughters (and flushes like a 16 year old when a woman so much as bats her eyelashes at him). Yes, p*ssywhipped Arthur is a hill I will die on.

3. It also suits her because? Ariel? Shakespeare? The Tempest? Bermuda Triangle? Shipwrecks? Daughter-like figure of powerful and vengeful sorcerer? Yeah. And this girl is a fire spirit — she is so lively, snarky, clever. As she’s grown older she’s mellowed out a little, but still: a no shit taken, no fucks given type of gal.

4. Speaking of growing up, she’s also become quite the beauty. Shacha, if I’m remembering correctly, described her as dark skinned, wavy-haired, and green eyed and that image has been burned onto the back of my eyelids ever since. Those Iberian genetics really be pulling through for her, that’s for sure. Engport love child if I’ve ever seen one. Definitely one of the prettiest in her family.

Singapore

I’ve already mentioned this to needcake, but I’m not too big a fan of canon Singapore, so this is my oc version. Singapore is fascinating to me because it had only a very small local population before it became a colony (The original settlement had actually been destroyed by the Portuguese about two centuries before the British started building a port there.) So nation-tans like Singapore and Bermuda really are Arthur’s children in the most direct sense of the word. And yet, Singapore is mostly ethnically Chinese, with Malays being the second largest group. Growing up Asian in a white, Victorian era family surely cannot have been easy and more than once Singapore probably wondered if there hadn’t been some mistake. To make up for the constant fear that he wasn’t “really” British, Singapore studied ferociously and had a truly terrifying work ethic. I’m not sure if this is common knowledge outside Asian circles, so I’ll mention that this hc comes from the fact Singapore is well known for having truly exceptional students and some of the most prestigious schools. Singaporeans score highly in literally everything and they have an advantage with good English learning environments, a highly desirable trait in Asia, but these results come from brutally long hours — and its really saying something that they’re known for working hard, considering the studying ethic of students in Korea, Japan, and China aint nothing to sneeze at, either. To me this actually fits really well with Singapore’s upbringing in Arthur’s household, because Arthur himself prizes intelligence and hard work above all else, being a workaholic himself.

As for their relationship, it was probably the best when Singapore was young and peaked in the 1930s with the massive naval base the British built at Singapore, at the time the largest dry dock in the world. Singapore was a well-behaved child, not necessarily introverted but not rowdy either, and all the way into his teenage years he truly admired Arthur and was proud to be a part of the British Empire, despite his lingering unease and insecurities. The British defeat in World War II, however, was a massive turning point. He had worked his ass off to be a good son, a good brother, to contribute to the only family and system he had ever known, and he had thought by the 30s he was finally on his way to becoming a fine adult. And suddenly, the British surrender brings his entire world crashing down. He had followed the rules faithfully thinking it was his destiny, but suddenly it was clear that all rules were made up. Of course, his insecurities exploded. If the empire was a ruse, what the hell was he? A part of the illusion? He couldn’t have a truly Asian identity, because many of the old East Asian nations shunned him for his Western upbringing, and he could not entirely understand their values either. So he was a kid who kinda had to figure out late and very very suddenly who the fuck he was and wanted to be.

And, well, he’s done pretty well for himself, hasn’t he. After having a total crisis and questioning everything, I think Singapore slowly started to realize that just because the British Empire as a political entity didn’t last forever, that didn’t mean that his entire childhood and identity weren’t real. The love he gave to his siblings and the love he got back, the hard work he put in, his bond with Arthur and the safe, happy childhood he had — those memories and feelings didnt have to be diminished by what came after. Essentially, he learned the lesson all nations have to learn, which is that one needs to be able to discern between duties as a nation and feelings as a human being, and to some extent keep them separate to protect both.

Whoooooo ok I’ll stop there because this turned into a dissertation, sorry. Let me know if there are any specifics u want me to elaborate on or anything I missed, but I’ll leave this here for today :)

#hws england #hws Australia #hws new zealand #oc: hws Bermuda #not gonna tag anymore I’m lazy #fun times with the commonwealth #I probably won’t write so much for all of them I just put it there to remind myself #needcake #ask #my hcs

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lilbabycee · 4 years ago

Text

shame on you (blame on me) // ransom drysdale

↳ summary: you find out some shocking information about your fiancé that makes you question who’s to blame.

↳ request: for the prompt: i really need some angst in my life so maybe a super angsty cheating fic with ransom? - anon

↳ relationship: ransom drysdale x reader

↳ word count: 4.7k (oops)

↳ warnings: angst angst angst!, explicit smut, cheating

↳ author’s note: i love ransom and this actually made me sad - please enjoy! x

You’ve always considered yourself a fair person.

Throughout your life, you’ve been taught that you should take a step back, assess the situation you’re in, and look at it from a different angle. But as you’ve had to learn over the years, looking at too many angles can make you dizzy and as hard as you try, those scales of justice have a mind of their own and can easily tip one way or another when your back is turned to face another perspective. It’s a tedious game to play and you can’t win all the time, but for you, it’s always been enough to just try.

And try as you might, there will always be people interfering with the balance: people with ulterior motives and nefarious agendas, people who will do anything to see themselves in first place, people who want so desperately to be able to do it all. Life is an exchange, a give-and-take that you must navigate with the precision and confidence of a synchronized swimmer trying to keep up with the shadow of themselves in an ocean of doubt and self-loathing, and you find that those who only want to take and take without giving are those who, more often than not, end up alone when it’s all said and done.

But you’ve always gone out of your way to make an attempt to steer people away from going down that path, encouraging them to give more of themselves to people who deserve it and open up their hearts up to people who may change their lives. All of your friends like to joke that you have a god complex and you can’t help but agree that maybe you do.

It’s inexplicable why you feel so responsible for the lives of others; strangers, friends, family alike, you bear the weight of their choices on your back. You chalk it up to extreme empathy and your parents insist that it’s because you’re just inherently good. Maybe it’s because you feel as if since the minute you were born, the scales have been tipped in your favor. Perhaps you’re compensating for all of the privileges that you were handed because of who your parents are and what your socio-economic class is, the silver spoon that you’ve been trying to spit out of your mouth for your whole life. All you know is that you so deeply crave justice that it makes your head ache some days.

So yes, you would - modestly - consider yourself fair.

That’s why it shocked so many when you fell in love with Ransom Drysdale.

You met him at a charity fundraiser that you were hosting to build schools in less economically developed countries all over the world, an initiative that you’d been working on for years and held so dear to your heart. Your mother has been close to Joni for her entire life and knew the Thrombeys and Drysdales because of business, so when she told you that they’d be attending, you didn’t think much of it.

“Darling,” your mother calls and beckons you over, pulling you into her side with a bright smile on her face as she stands next to a group of well-dressed patrons.

When you’re standing next to her, you must be mindful of the way that the emerald green satin of your gown sweeps the floor. With a slim diamond choker wrapped around your neck and rings that cost five-figures adorning your fingers, you usually prefer to indulge in simpler pleasures but for events like these, you give into hedonism and allow your mother and stylist to spoil you. You press a barely-there kiss to your mother’s cheek as she gently holds onto you, running her nails up and down your arm comfortingly.

“Honey, these are the Drysdales. This is Linda, her husband Richard, and their son Hugh.”

You smile politely at both Linda and Richard and are about to give their son the same treatment when you feel the heat of blue flames licking up the exposed skin of your leg that peeks through the thigh-high slit in your dress. But the fire doesn’t stop there; it spreads up your stomach and lands in the valley of your breasts. A part of you wants to be angry that this man is ogling you as if you’re a piece of meat, the prey that his predator has been waiting to pounce on, but a part of you revels in it. You know that you look good - it’s no secret to anybody at this event - but to have someone unabashedly appreciate that makes your heartbeat speed up.

Since he can’t tear his eyes off of your cleavage, you take the opportunity to give Hugh a once-over of your own.

His black loafers are designer - you can tell by the way all of the little golden g’s on the velvet of his shoes are linked together - and so are his black socks, something which makes you have to physically prevent yourself from rolling your eyes. The black, grey, and white checkered pants he’s wearing hug his thighs just enough to see the shape of the muscles in his legs and the outline of his sizable length - you don’t let yourself look at that for too long. The letters on his belt match his shoes and you’re momentarily astounded at how narrow his waist is. Under a waistcoat and suit jacket that are both printed with the same pattern as his pants, he’s wearing a burgundy turtleneck that clings to his torso like a second skin. From what you’ve seen, you can assume that he’s heavily muscled underneath his clothes, and when you see his broad shoulders and big arms, you’re proven right.

Luxury virtually seeps out of his pores and it nauseates you.

But you’re intrigued nonetheless. His eyes lock on yours and you find yourself drowning, trying to swim through a choppy sea of grey and blue. It knocks the breath out of your lungs and a shy smile lifts your lips when he extends a hand out towards you.

“Nice to meet you,” his voice is deep and his jaw is squared as if he’s biting back his words. You delicately place your hand in his and marvel at the way his palm swallows yours. His skin is warm and soft and you’re close enough that you can smell notes of bergamot and cedarwood that make your usually poised stance melt.

“Likewise, Hugh,” you manage to say, overwhelmed by the charm and class of the man before you.

“Call me Ransom, sweetness; only the help calls me Hugh.”

And just like that, your rose-tinted glasses shatter and you blink hard, rescinding your hand from Ransom’s and nodding at him briefly. You can’t help but wonder how much more pretentious this son of a bitch can get, but your mother hasn’t failed to notice the way that the two of you sized each other up. So when you’re eventually walking away from the family of three, she gives you a knowing look that you’re all too familiar with, a look that makes you scoff and avoid her eyes.

“So,” she draws out the word and nudges your shoulder with hers, “he’s cute, no?”

“Mom,” you groan quietly.

“Come on now, darling, he was a very handsome boy. And I saw the way he was looking at you-”

“Sure, Mom, but did you hear him? ‘Only the help calls me Hugh’ - he’s so far up his own ass...and what kind of name is Ransom anyway?”

Your mom shrugs, the corners of her lips twitching up into a cheeky grin.

“Doesn’t matter, love - I think he’s cute and you should go speak to him. And if you don’t, who knows? He might snatch you up in that auction later tonight.”

And he did. Every year at the benefit, you auction yourself off for a night out which you only continue to do because it proves to be an extremely valuable source of income for your charity. You’re standing up in the center of that stage, the host for the night yelling out the bids for the auction, and through the blinding lights, you’re able to see white signs flying up with ridiculously high amounts of money printed on them. You’re sure that this is almost over when you see fifty-thousand dollars stuck up in the air, but then the host says:

“One-hundred-thousand dollars to the gentleman in the checkered suit right over there!”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing and a part of you hopes that it’s not Hugh Ransom Drysdale, but you haven’t seen anybody else wearing such a distinctive suit; your heart threatens to beat out of your chest. Even in the relative darkness, you meet the blazing blue of his eyes with an inaudible gasp and the sly smirk on his lips makes you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to stop a smile of your own from spreading on your face.

So when he wins a night of your time for one-hundred-thousand dollars and he leads you off the stage with a large hand on the small of your back, you can’t even bring yourself to be a little irritated at the way he leans into your body to whisper “gotcha” teasingly in your ear because he does have you.

Fair and square.

---

But you don’t know how you’ve ended up here. Over three years and one marriage proposal later, you’re sitting here pitifully with your head in your hands because you can’t believe that this is what it’s come to. You’ve tried many times over the past few hours to cease the incessant shaking of your hands but it’s relentless, your anxiety and distress running through your veins and seeping through your bones.

The last four hours of your life have uprooted everything that you’ve ever believed in, everything you thought you knew about fate and order and love because it’s all a fucking mess. When Harlan handed you the flash drive, he warned you that you should only look at it if you think that you’re ready to accept that your reality will be flipped on its head and the expectations that you’ve allowed yourself to build up so carefully like tiny little brick towers will not only be knocked over, but destroyed beyond repair.

You brushed him off jovially, thinking he was just being overly dramatic like he usually is, because you and Ransom had just gotten back from tasting wedding cakes and you were in your own little bubble of serenity. With a brief kiss on his cheek, you floated out of the room on cloud nine as he watched you leave with deep despair in his eyes that you were too distracted to notice.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have just thrown caution to the wind and plugged the memory stick into your laptop without really thinking about it first; you don’t think you’ll ever forget the way that your heart plummeted into your stomach at the images of your fiancé with his arms wrapped around a slew of different women.

Something inside of you immediately wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they caught him from a bad angle, maybe the other women were the ones who initiated it. But you backtracked because who are you to blame anybody else except for Ransom? That wouldn’t be fair and a part of your brain knows that you have to come to terms with the fact that he’s more like his father than he would like to admit.

You still don’t know why you kept looking, continued to scroll through the pictures even though looking at your soon-to-be-husband’s lips on other women made you feel as if you were going to throw up your breakfast all over your laptop. The more that you stared at the candid photos, the more you realized that the actual infidelity in itself hurt, but what’s even more painful is the cold look in his eyes when he’s with them.

They didn’t mean anything to him yet he still did it, and that’s what gets you.

Maybe you deserve this: maybe it was always meant to end up like this. It’s hard not to think that this could be the way that this relationship was always meant to pan out, that maybe this is fate balancing out those scales. You knew from the moment you met him that you’d have your work cut out for you with Ransom, but you were never one to back away from a challenge. And it wasn’t as if you were actively trying to change him but sooner or later, Linda came to you with praises spilling from her lips because she couldn’t believe who her son had become within the first year of meeting you. He’d transformed right in front of your eyes, and it filled you with a glowing sense of pride to see how much more caring and open and honest he was.

Early in the relationship, you’d wanted to establish that you wouldn’t treat him like a charity case. Everyone is flawed to some extent, sure, but there are behaviors that you will always find inexcusable, and the two of you had sat down and laid them out. You had a feeling that you would need to set some ground rules with Ransom and he was surprisingly lenient, establishing his own terms and conditions in return.

The two of you had laughed hard about it later on because it all sounded like some kind of business deal or contract.

You could laugh about it now too, especially since the number one most important item on both of your lists was to remain faithful. As a couple, you think that you have a very direct form of communication. Ransom is not one to hold back his discontent and frankly, neither are you. Neither of you is afraid to argue and you do it often, but it’s never grown into anything more intense than a few hours of painful silence and is always resolved before you fall asleep.

You’d always thought that if you ever found yourself in a situation like this one, you wouldn’t be able to forgive your significant other. But never in your life have you felt such an intense connection to another human; your souls have intertwined so intricately that you don’t know whether or not you’re willing to jeopardize that.

“Princess?”

His voice echoes through your shared house and you can hear him hang up his coat, cursing as he kicks his shoes off and pads up the stairs. He stops outside the open door to your bedroom, spying the back of your open laptop and your still body lying on your stomach with your face turned away from him.

“Babe, you’re gonna flip your shit when I show you what I found today,” he drops the bags in his hand and walks around the king-size to press a kiss to the top of your head. You can pinpoint the exact moment when he realizes that something’s wrong. He freezes in place, feet seemingly rooted to the ground when he gets a good look at your face. The puffiness of your eyes, your wet lashes, and the tear streaks down your cheeks all alert him that something’s not quite right.

That’s when he sees it.

The last picture that you looked at was by far the worst. It shows him balls deep in a woman who you actually know fairly well because she’s worked closely with both you and Ransom for years on a number of your projects. She was initially hired as his assistant but soon evolved into something more like a friend to your family and his alike. You decide that it’s definitely worse when it’s someone you know.

The room goes entirely silent because the universe has pressed pause on this moment, all so he can fully realize the gravity of the situation.

“Baby, let me explain-”

“I actually don’t think I want you to, Ransom,” you respond tiredly, your voice raspy from lack of use and your head heavy as you sit up in your bed. You pull your knees into your chest as you run a hand over your face to wipe away any leftover tears.

Ransom flinches and you know it’s because you’ve called him by his name. With you, it’s usually baby or sweetheart or honey but not this time. He wants so badly to be your love again but the light in your eyes has gone out and he doesn’t know whether or not that’s even possible anymore.

You’re exhausted more than anything else. You’ve cried all your tears and are ready to never think about this ever again, but he’s sitting in front of you looking like a kicked puppy and you know that you need to be fair and give him a chance to explain himself. That’s what you’d want.

“Please, sweetheart, let me,” he begs, eyes searching yours and hand cautiously hovering right over your jaw, not quite touching but the heat emanating from his palm is enough to make you tear up again. It’s a small comfort that you know you’re going to miss.

Nodding, you hastily place your hand over his, pressing it to your face while a sob escapes your lips. He wraps both his arms around your waist as you curl in on yourself and sink into his body, taking deep breaths even though your nose is being assaulted with the familiar scent of oak and vanilla that makes you long for a simpler time.

There’s a drawn-out pause before he starts speaking, his chin resting on the top of your head as he mulls over his words.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s all he says for about a minute, letting the words hang in the air while the only sound in the room is that of your loud sniffles.

“I’m so, so sorry, sweetness.”

He’s always called you that: sweetness. He once told you that you’re like honey, soft and sweeter than anything he’s ever had the pleasure of loving, and then laughed when you returned from work that night with a bag of those pastries you like from the bakery up the street. He could never stomach them no matter how hard he tried, but you always thought that was hilarious because he inhales those biscoff cookies like air.

But you don’t feel very sweet right now as he spews apologies and excuses, spinning you sugar-coated lies and candied falsehoods with the confidence of a practiced storyteller. There’s a bitter taste on your tongue that you want so badly to spit out, tell him what you really think of him in this moment and how he’s not the man that you came to know. It was foolish of you to think he’d changed.

And when once again, quiet falls over your room in the light of the mid-afternoon, you only nod again, choosing to reserve your words for when you have something to say. Because as of right now, that sour taste still lingers on your tongue but you have no desire to rid yourself of it any longer. You’ll let it stay, allow it to fester as a reminder that you’ve been blind and naive but never again.

It ends here.

Ransom starts to stir noticeably when you don’t say anything, playing with the cotton of your shirt and your limp fingers. When you hear him speak next, something’s changed in his tone and you can feel the bass in his voice through his chest.

“Y/N, baby, please say something- anything. Scream, yell at me, just fucking do something, babe: you’re killing me here.”

You scoff at the notion of you killing him because the irony of it is too funny to resist. But you decide to put him out of his misery, finally blinking up at him and meeting his eyes. They’re filled to the brim with cold rain that sends a chill down your back, dark and stormy and wet like the English countryside and you can almost smell the petrichor.

“Can we just go back to before?”

Your voice is cracking and your request is simple, but it’s enough for the few tears brimming in Ransom’s eyes to spill over onto his cheeks. You’ve only seen him cry twice before and it tugs at your heartstrings to see him like this, so open and more vulnerable than he’s allowed himself to be with anyone else. He’s already nodding rapidly but you’re not done.

“Can we go back, just for a little while? I just-”

You have to pause because the claws of despair are raking your skin as it crawls up your throat.

“I just want it to be like before. I love you so much that it hurts and I just want it to be like before.”

He’s nodding eagerly now and his lips are already on yours, anchoring you to him because your love’s not enough to do so anymore. You push yourself up onto your knees so that you can grab his face between your hands, the face that you love so hard that it’s suffocating you. He steals your breath when he slips his tongue into your mouth and you feel lightheaded when his big hands slide underneath your shirt. Guilt plagues your thoughts but you push that aside for now: perhaps because it’s time for you to be selfish and you’ll allow yourself this, perhaps because you’d rather focus on the way that he tastes like cinnamon and the salt of your combined tears and he feels like home.

The moment he wraps his arms around you to push you onto your back, you lean further into him because you want him as close to you as possible, trying desperately to become a part of him once more. The kisses he plants on you are like sugar and you want to inject them so that maybe you can be his sweetness again. The way your lips move in tandem makes your heart soar because it’s always been so easy - except when it’s not.

Your shirt is thrown across the room, leaving you in only your panties and almost completely bare underneath his gaze. He stares at you reverently, silently worshipping you like a Madonna as rivers of tears pour from your eyes. His lips wrap around one of your peaked buds earnestly, his fingers rolling the other gently between them. The shock of pleasure that shoots through you almost makes you cry harder but you just bury your fingers in his hair, his tears hot on your soft skin. After he goes to give your other nipple the same attention, you pull him back to your lips. Without hesitation, he strips himself of his cable knit and shirt together, tossing them off the bed while you help him undo his belt. No words are exchanged when he kicks his pants off and your hand slips into his boxer briefs to stroke his hard length heavy in your hand because there’s nothing to say.

He pulls his underwear off too and after he does, he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of yours and strips you entirely. You take a beat just to admire each other, chests heaving and eyes glassy. Ransom’s face is flushed and you’re sure that your eyes are red but you’re still as beautiful to each other as you’ve always been.

He buries his face in your neck and you shiver at the feeling of his warm breath. Your nipples are pressed against his muscled chest as you just lay there, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. When he slips himself into your wet heat, the stretch of his thick cock lights your body on fire and you cry out. He rocks back and forth until he’s fully sheathed, and his entire body shakes with a sob when the two of you are completely joined together.

Your souls have fallen out of step but in this moment, they’re dancing again.

The rolling of his hips against yours is slow as he takes his time tearing you apart, molding you to his body because he doesn’t want to let you go either. He drinks in the sound of your whimpers like ice water while his body overheats with passion and when your hand tightly grips the hair at the nape of his neck, he picks up the pace, rutting into you with unbridled ardor and whispering your name like a prayer. With his lips buried in your skin, you can’t quite make out the muffled sounds of his cries until he moves them right next to your ear.

“I love you, I’m sorry, I love you.”

And he says it over and over again and each time he does, it becomes more broken and you can feel the agony weighing down his voice. You’re so close to the edge and you can feel he is too, his thrusts becoming increasingly sloppy as he reaches down to rub at your clit so that you can finish at the same time.

Broken pleas fall from your lips, a litany of “please, please, please” as he gives you exactly what he knows you need. Your nails rake up and down his back as he moves and his breath hitches. What you don’t expect is for him to pull away from your shoulder and prop himself up on his forearms to stare you dead in the eyes. You can’t handle the intensity so you try to avert your gaze, but he whines deep in his throat.

“Please, baby, please look at me - I love you, please,” he urges you tearfully, trying to catch your darting eyes.

Once your stare reluctantly locks back onto his, he laughs wetly, his quivering lips curving into a weak smile as he kisses your cheek sweetly. The sentimentality of it all is what pushes you over the edge, your entire body shaking with the aftershocks of your release and the sobs that continue to wrack your chest. A second later, Ransom stills his movements, moaning quietly as he spills into you.

The two of you stay like that for a while, crying and breathing each other’s air as the dance of your souls starts to come to an end. You wonder what it’d be like if this was different, if you were weeping with happiness instead of sorrow.

To halt that train of thought in its tracks, you extricate yourself from your fiancé and lock yourself in the ensuite.

When you come back out, Ransom is underneath the covers, eyes trained on you. You don’t say anything but you do crawl back into bed next to him, allowing him to smother you with kisses that usually make you giggle and pull you deep into his chest.

Ransom takes a breath before he speaks. “Stay. Please, sweetness. Don’t go - I want you to be here when I wake up.”

You just nod, combing your fingers through his hair as you can see his eyes start to get heavy.

“Sleep, baby. I’ll be here.”

---

It’s 1:22 a.m and you know you can’t stay.

Ransom’s always been a deep sleeper and you’re lucky to have woken up in a moment when he’s not holding you in a vice-like grip. You flip back the covers and head to your closet, grabbing the nearest articles of clothing that you realize too late belong to the snoring man in your bed.

It doesn’t even matter anymore. After putting them on, you grab a duffle bag from the bottom of your closet and start pulling clothes from your side of the wardrobe off of hangers, stuffing as much as you can into the bag before sliding the zipper across.

You’re on your way out but you can’t resist peeking over your shoulder to ensure that Ransom’s still asleep, and you can’t help the small smile on your lips when you see that he’s still knocked out, mouth wide open with an arm hanging off the bed. Your head pounds from all the crying you’ve been doing but a burst of glee numbs the pain at the sight of the man-child in front of you. You’re a breath away from dropping your bag and slipping back into bed with him, your baby, your honey, your sweetheart.

But you don’t because he doesn’t deserve that and you deserve some time for you. And as the door clicks behind you, you can’t help but think that this is only fair.

tagged: @literaturefeen @stargazingfangirl18 @evnscvll @donutloverxo @ambthegamer @oliviamaries @maynay43 @i-lie-here-charmed @thinkaboutmara @x-abi-sharp-x @lady-pswrld @bval-1 @coffeebooksandfandom @call-me-baby-gir1 @la-cey

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#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale headcanon #ransom drysdale blurb #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom x y/n #ransom drysdale headcanons #ransom drysdale blurbs #ransom drysdale fics #knives out fanfic #ransom drysdale fic

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ladyzayisapoet · 2 years ago

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No Kinkfolk

A/N: I wrote this a couple months ago when I was very mad and disappointed in myself as I let too many people in the past year that I literally bent myself out of shape until I snapped. Sorry if there’s too many flow changes. Learn by my words that you don’t need too many people claiming you as a friend and always protect your peace. Until next time ✌🏾

I don’t feel like myself. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

I remember when I took myself out to eat cuz I was craving ihop. Now I wanna I stop.

Stop the lies, cut the ties, and all the bullshit that occurs in my life.

My fake ass friends at this fake ass school. I can’t believe there was ever a time I thought we was cool.

All I got is a club that hates me, a boy that dates me, and grades that make me. Am I ready for the real world?

Qualified and under qualified at the same time and yet I still refuse to lie.

I watch my lying peers fly by me in their journey find it hard not to blast journey “Don’t Stop Believing” they say but I’m finding it difficult to start.

Bitches rather fire me than teach me what I gotta do I’m sorry to inform I can’t learn everything on YouTube.

Climbing up a ladder just to be pushed down by the latter. POC taking jobs from me ain’t that some shit? What happened to solidarity? Oh right some dick

Girlie got some dick and think she black. Girlie took my last job and now it’s whack. All up in my face with a knife in my back out here saying nigga when you know you not black.

Bitches treating me like I settled for less when they see my man. At least I don’t gotta pretend to be someone else to satisfy him.

Acting like I can’t pull- girl please, stay comfortable in your identity crisis. Find your way back before you continue to let the world divide us.

Got me feeling like a mixed kid with a toxic white mom the way people been treating me lately. They got that high school mentality when they see me

Cliques with no dicks looking bitch, don’t know shit but they stay on my clit. I wish I was kidding but they sitting in my presence, clogging up my essence, stay testing my patience

And yet here I am still taking it all with no vaseline, the things I do to keep my reputation squeaky clean. I can’t handle another angry black woman accusation in this climate.

In the land full of pick me’s and alpha wannabe’s I’m not sure why my desire to be continues to grow. I just know that I don’t wanna feel like this anymore.

These rules and bi-laws of who I’m supposed to be I don’t owe you any piece of me.

You don’t deserve it. You can’t stomach the things I’ve been through nonetheless chew it but in your eyes I’m perfect. Too perfect. Derogatively perfect.

You see the gifts I get and think I can afford them. See the life I live and think I’m privileged cuz we in Florida.

I’m not from these parts full of uncultured New Yorkers trying to start over reeking of gentrification, a plan that was only supposed to be a vacation.

My heart is aching, my town is withering away in my very eyes, every tear I shed is a goodbye to a place I once called home

And yet here you are calling me privileged when the term you’re looking for is gifted. Unfortunately gifts come at a cost. Nothing in life is free.

Life is a daily fight and we’re all competing. I’m competing against liars, thieves, backstabbers, and nice nasty people with ghostwriters.

They ride life on a surfboard as I drown in a tidal wave of their venomous spit takes.

Privileged? Give me a fucking break. Karma gotten so creative lately in fucking me over I started failing in the easiest parts of my life.

I need a drink but I can’t get drunk. I’m stuck being sober, stuck feeling every emotion in my body like a piece of wet gum in my hair.

No choice but to feel it cause it’s the only way to move on but moving on not always guaranteed it’s just a suggestion. I’m congested.

I’m scared of myself. I’m scared of what I might do to them if we’re left by ourselves. I’m scared I might say something, break something, or maybe both.

I crave violence, I hate silence, I hate silent people more. They always got the worst intentions.

Got the most to say when they not in your face. Claim anxiety cuz they not in your place and in life they losing the race. I’m losing my pace.

I want to talk but I’m losing my base in my voice to my fingers as they curl in a ball ready to be thrown at their face. Say the word I’ve been waiting to see the hood you claim.

I know I’m the ex-thug you love to hate you recognize that I’m real and you’re fake. Since when was changing for the better not okay?

It really be your own people disturbing your fate. No kinkfolk to this day.

#black writers #poetry #angry rant type post #black poetry

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sinisterlyhan · 4 years ago

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02. bang chan / 3883 words

dom!chan who is both hard and soft, a tinge of fluff, daddy kink, a little size kink + corruption kink, oral (m receiving), the smallest amount of cumplay at the end, female reader

a/n: i am probably going to write a part two for this.

chan stopped seeing you as a younger sibling sometime ago.

you used to just be minho's little sister. the girl who occasionally appeared in the living room when he had sleepovers at the house, the girl he only talked to when it was under minho's presence, the girl he never felt any form of sexual attraction towards.

but then times changed. he grew older, taller, and bigger while you... well, you definitely did grow older. not so much taller, though. it felt as if only him and minho managed to sprout some height after puberty while yours went completely neglected in your genes. and definitely not bigger—actually, yes. some part of you grew bigger, in a very arousing and distracting way if chan could admit. but you were still quite small compared to his much broader shoulders.

chan never thought too much of it. he had made too many petty jokes about you staying as small and weak as a midget for years, his mindset was stuck at that childish thought. it was only until christmas gathering last year when he joined your family for the holiday did he finally realize how much more attractive you have grown.

you have always been pretty. chan would not expect anything less as you are lee minho's little sister, and minho was one hell of a good-looking man. the big doe eyes with the perfect nose bridge, and of course pretty pink lips that makes a pretty smile—you were always pretty. chan never verbally acknowledged it but he never verbally denied it either.

over time, your beauty has matured. you innocent eyes learned how to act tough in front of strangers and your pretty smile knew to come to the rescue in awkward situation. you have grown to learn how to benefit yourself in a society that, unfortunately, ran on a system that relied heavily on appearances.

but chan hasn't seen your tactics be used on him before. when he arrived at your house last year, you looked at him the same way you had always looked at him—a little distant but still with faint fondness, a gaze that screamed friendly and comfortable.

in terms of expressions and attitude, you were small when it came to him. and something about that special treatment (which wasn't exactly special) made his insides churn.

what made it even worse was the night of christmas dinner, when you three decided to sit down in his room to hang out while the adults gathered in the living room to chat the night away.

you had stolen minho's hoodie, that chan knew because it was one size too big on minho and therefore two sizes too big on you. you wore a pair of polyester shorts that only faintly peeked out the hem of the cuddly hoodie, and your tiny feet was covered by a pair of ugly, green fuzzy socks.

but what stung him the most was how careless you acted around him, as if he was your brother as well.

you had been eating chips at that time, happily smacking your lips away as you ate up the family portioned chip bag on your own. and chan could not care less about you never sharing the snacks at that time. he just knew you were sucking on your fingers a little too hard and moaning at the taste a little too loudly for him to concentrate on his phone.

and the way your legs flaunted around on minho's bed as you munched on the food, spreading them in a comfortable position but not spreading enough for him to catch a glimpse into the gaps of your shorts. and you looked so small with your legs thrown over the pile of dirty laundry on the edge of your brother's bed, your back against the mattress and your breasts perking up at the cursed angle.

chan was going insane, he had to snap his head away when minho threw a random pillow at you, scolding you to sit up properly.

he was told—threatened—later by minho to stop having perverted ideas about you. but chan didn't listen, obviously. for the rest of that night, all he had thought about was shoving his fingers down your throat and fucking you in your brother's hoodie. he could imagine all the ways you would whimper and moan under his weight when he's got your legs thrown over his shoulder, and the thought alone made his chest burn.

chan was unable to see you the same, platonic way ever again since that christmas.

"bang chan!"

your irritated voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he quickly looked away from the dark corner he was staring at. you were frowning at him by the television set, your hands rested in a box of movie cds.

chan's eyes casually scanned your figure, as if it wasn't all he thought about after you walked downstairs, drowned that oversized shirt and pajama shorts he took a generous peek at as your shirt rode up your ass upon you reaching upward.

"yeah, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting up from the couch and leaning his elbows on his knees to look at you with an arched brow.

you felt slightly intimidated by his change of stance; he was just sulking at the corner of the sofa looking exhausted and small, how did he manage to change his aura with just a change of position?

and his duality was always so damn hot to you for some reason! the way he could smile at you one second and glare at an uncomfortable stranger the next was none other than seducing.

"are you kidding me–do you want to watch a movie or not, chan?" you asked as you pulled your hands out of the box, preparing to put it back into the shelf and let it gather dust there until the next holiday when minho didn't get called up to spend the night with his girlfriend instead. "i am actually okay with just being on our phones, we don't have to watch a movie."

chan blinked at you, surprised by your fed-up tone even though he had done nothing but sit on the couch after dinner. perhaps you were mad at minho for ditching you both? but why would you be mad about that unless you didn't want to spend alone time with him? maybe you just had an argument with your parents, that was why you felt extra grumpy.

as chan drowned in his thoughts and assumptions, he had not realized you plopping down on the couch across from him. you breathed out a heavy sigh as you unlocked your phone, sliding against the cushion and throwing your extended legs on top of his lap.

oh, there you were with the carelessness again. twisting your legs and only barely brushing across his groin each time you swung your feet his way. and if he saw clearly, you weren't wearing a bra as well, you little brat.

chan glanced down at your bare feet then, and something about your slim ankles in comparison to his much bigger hand fueled the hotness in his abdomen. he could just grab them and pull you to him, spreading your legs wide for him. and what could you do? he was so much stronger than you.

manhandling you would be both an effortless and pleasurable experience.

you huffed out a sigh, distracting him once again. he turned to find you frowning at the ceiling, your arm dangling to the side with your phone gripped tightly in your hand.

chan gulped down his lustful mind and asked, hoping to start a normal conversation. "you've been acting grumpy all day. what happened to you, hmm?"

you peered down at him, your chest heaving and, unbeknownst to you, nipples protruding through the thin fabric of your shirt. "i met this guy on campus last month. he was helping out with some fraternity shit and i was walking past, and then he stopped me to get my number," you said. "we have been texting a lot, and recently he asked me out. we planned to hang out sometime this week, actually, since it is the holiday and all."

chan furrowed his brows. the word fraternity definitely did not stick well with him and he had not taken you for someone who would be obsessed over attractive and irresponsible frat boys. turning to you, he asked, "is it not working out?"

you groaned under your breath. "no, it is for now," you muttered, glancing to the side shyly when you realized what you were about to say. "it's just... i'm not sure if it will be fine after the date."

"why?" he pressed on, finding the reddening of your cheeks very amusing.

"it's just... he said he is going to make a move on me and he told me to prepare for it..." you replied quietly, finding the once arousing words to be sappy and cringey once you repeated them. "but i have never had... i've–i haven't done anything before, like i don't even know the first thing about sucking someone off."

chan clenched his jaw. he was just slightly angered at the idea that some stupid boy would have the privilege of having your mouth wrapped around his useless dick when all he has ever gotten were temptations and imaginations. your big, innocent eyes looking up at him in confirmation and waiting for him to guide you through it all—fuck, he could cum just thinking about it.

"i can teach you," he suddenly suggested, shooting his shot and taking his chances. he looked over at you, eyes burning holes at your head. "if you want to, i can teach you. right here, right now."

his voice went an octave lower, the metallic hotness of it sending shivers down your spine. how would you fend if he whispered next to your ear, just inches apart with his hot breath blowing against your skin? you squeezed your thighs together at the thought, knowing very well he noticed how squirmish you were becoming because his was smirking with a devil laced on his lips.

"h–how?" you stuttered out.

chan poked his tongue to the corner of his lips. what a desperate bitch, you were willing to suck another man's dick to make sure the real deal would be mind-blowing. something about that was thrilling to him, the fact that he was the first one to take it from you instead of that ill-promising boy in your phone.

"on the floor, kneel," he beckoned you to him by pointing at the space before him.

you quickly dropped onto the ground and scurried over to kneel between his legs, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched him move his sweats down by a little. his cock sprung out upon release, standing long and thick against his tummy due to how hard he was. you bit back a gasp but your widened eyes told him everything, and your fascination only fueled his dominance impeccably.

fuck, you looked so breakable like this.

"i'm sure you have seen a dick before so i am going to spare you the details," he said as he gave his dick a few pumps. then, he leaned forward slightly and grabbed you by your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

his eyes grew soft for a moment and he rubbed his fingers at your skin comfortingly. "you can stop this anytime you want, okay, (name)?" he said, smiling faintly at you.

you sent him a timid nod, your lips pursed adorably and your eyes sparkling up at him. frankly, you were too occupied with lusting over thing massive thing in front of your face for you to really process your thoughts, but what does it matter?

if you were thinking about it so much then you knew you wanted it.

upon your agreement, chan's eyes switched to something different. they were cold now, hooded with a sea storm of lust, overwhelmingly icy yet he seemed to be melting at the sight of you succumbing to hits authority. it was a gaze that made you feel both inferior but anticipated somehow.

"you're gonna suck me off well, baby girl?" he asked, but it sounded more like a demand. it sounded as if he expects nothing less than worshipping his cock from you, that you will suck him off good because that was all you're here for.

"i... i don't know how..." you muttered.

chan exhaled through his nose, his lips still quirked up. he gripped your chin just a tad bit tighter, causing you to look at him with wide eyes.

"don't worry, you will get to hang of it," he mused before lowering his voice. "but daddy's gonna need you to speak a little louder than that next time, got it?"

a blush crept up your cheeks, the heat in your core magnifying when chan just manifested a guilty pleasure of yours in real life. you have only heard it in porn and read it in fanfiction, perhaps you also did imagine yourself saying it once or twice in a sexual context, but imagination could never be associated with the truth. what if you sounded awkward saying it? that would be horrible.

"baby girl?" chan tugged at your chin, faint impatience laced in his voice as he peered down at your. "were you daydreaming?"

"no, daddy–" you clamped your mouth shut at how easy the word flew out of your lips.

chan held back a groan. how perfect you were, calling him such an endearment that has been tainted with filth. he would not wait to hear you gag around his cock, your voice unable to punch out any words because your mouth was stuffed.

"well? do you want to start now or do i have to tell you to lick?" he gave you a welcoming gesture, leaning back against the couch and waiting.

you gulped down a nervous breath and reached out tentatively to grab his dick in your hands. it was hard, with a surprisingly soft but veiny surface. bringing it over to your lips whilst leaning in, you let the tip stop at the entrance of your mouth and you looked up at chan, as if asking for permission.

"go on," he urged you. "try and make daddy feel good."

he said that like it would be a challenge for you, but he had lost from the start when you agreed to do this. a hiss left his lips when you experimented with licking his tip. and when you realize it was not as rough as you thought it would feel, you continued with it, your tongue pressing flat against the surface as you dragged it down and around the sensitive bub.

this was a different kind of sexy. chan has been used to sloppy and fast blowjobs all his life because the few people he had had sex with were all much more experienced than you were. they were good, he had to admit, they had been good.

but you—oh, you. you were just especially and irresistibly hot. there was something about the way you kneeled in front of him, your careful hands wrapped around the base of his cock like a bottle too big for your hands to hold as your tongue flicked along his tip and his shaft with calculations, aiming to do nothing but pleasure him.

you were slow and sensual with it due to how uncertain you were with what to do. and god, was that painfully seductive. the way you were taking your sweet time giving his cock your undivided attention, forcing him to feel everything and ink down all of your movements in his head—the hotness of your tongue as you curved around his shape, the infuriating fire he felt when your tongue traced up his veins and leave once you were close to his tip, the egoistic dominance you were making him feel when you looked up at him with those big, obedient eyes.

it was like you couldn't live without his validation. and you were willing to sit in front of him for hours with his dick in your mouth, pleasuring him just to get a hint of approval. and it kept reminding him that he was in charge here, that you have to wait for him to tell you what to do and when to do it.

when you were finally getting a bit braver, watching the way chan bit his lips and how his chest heaved, you decided to hollow your cheeks to suck at him for the first time.

and chan groaned—a borderline growl—when you took more of him in your mouth to pull at his dick, your tongue stuck over your bottom lip and flapping against his shaft. as you released him from your mouth, you pressed a tight kiss to his tip and spit your saliva down to make it look like cum, then you lathered his length with the filthy wetness, still sucking on him like you would a popsicle or a lollipop.

and god, he was trying too hard. he was trying so damn hard not to grab you by your hair and just fuck your throat like a fleslight. he still wanted to give you the chance to do whatever felt comes to mind, and so far you have really been doing phenomenal things to him.

"fuck, baby girl," he grumbled through clenched teeth, feeling pleasure override his senses. "that was good, keep doing that."

your eyes lit up at the compliment, a mini giggle falling out your lips and sending vibration down his skin. chan moaned at the feeling as you went just a tad bit faster in your repetition, mixing the rough sucks with baby licks and creating a symphonic contrast that soon pushed him close to the edge.

the knot at his swollen tip was building and chan could not resist anymore. he needed you to go at his pace, something faster and rougher. with a groan, he let his hands move the back of your head before he pushed you down on his cock, a breathy moan leaving him when you squealed in surprise.

you could not breathe, his length was too big for your little mouth. the feeling of his tip touching your throat was overwhelmingly unsatisfactory, but somewhere deep within you, you knew you wanted it. because chan's voice has never sounded better all breathy and feral like this, and it was all because you put your stupid mouth to good use for once.

your hands gripped his flexed thighs in support while chan, for a second, forgot you were a breathing human being and just snapped his hips up at you like you could take it all with no trouble. he was going fast, pushing your head down and thrusting up to meet your throat while he threw his head back at the heavenly vibration you sent him through letting out struggling noises.

fuck, your mouth felt so good. the feeling stuck at the tip of his cock released when a certain suck pushed him over the edge and burst his control. he shot his heavy load down your throat and coating up your inner cheeks before pushing your head away with a pop and slumping against the couch.

his chest was panting, you could see. and when he peered down at you, he arched a brow and smirked at you.

you waited from him to regain his energy. when he did, he leaned forward to your face and hummed in thoughts, as if accessing what other ways he could possibly wreck you up. you widened your eyes when he reached out to touch his thumb to your lips, his fingers tilting your chin up to face him.

"open up," he ordered, and you did with your tongue sticking out slightly for show. he almost laughed; you learned that from watching porn, didn't you?

his cum was still on your tongue, he wondered if you were reluctant to swallow them. he could deal with you not doing that, you have already given him such a mind-blowing blowjob despite it being your first time. however, even then, he still wanted to see something he had always wanted to try.

reaching his thumb into your mouth, he gathered up some of his cum and slowly, plastered them over your lips like he was applying your lipstick. when he was done, he let his thumb stay in your mouth and he gestured to you.

knowing what he was asking for, you first grazed your teeth over his skin before you sucked on it like a binky. his cum smacked together and left trails all over his hand and your lips, messy but so fucking hot at the same time.

and then he pulled out of you, removing his hand and going back to himself. he stared at you for a moment, once again contemplating. and when he reached over for you again, instead of another round of shoving and pulling, his hand moved to the back of your head and he rubbed the spot he just yanked at. then he gave your head a gentle pat.

he smiled at you softly. "you did so great, baby girl."

you wanted to smile at his compliment, but something about him speaking as if this was the end of it made disappointment settle in your chest. chan could sense your dismay through the pout, and his heart jumped slightly at the knowledge that you might want more than just sucking him off.

"why are you pouting, hmm?" he asked then, squeezing your cheek and looking directly at you. "do you want daddy to do something?"

his finger was trailing an alluring line down your cheek and your neck now. he knew what he was doing, and you knew you had to be the one to say it in order for him to keep going down to where you wanted him the most, the heated pool right between your legs.

"yes, please," you said, still shy about doing a minimal amount of dirty talk.

"hmm?" he raised his brows in amusement. "what is it that you want me to do, baby girl?"

oh, there were so many things you wanted him to do to you. but one of which took up the most space in your desires was to have him fuck you raw and open on whatever surface he so pleases. you would give anything to feel him inside of you.

"i..." you sucked in a breath, your cheeks reddening uncontrollably at the thought of having to verbalize your filthy fantasies. "i–i want daddy to make me feel good."

chan smirked, his finger that is was once trailing down your neck finally made its way to the center. his hand palmed over the area of your collarbones before he raised the position of his hand a little. he squeezed the base of your neck, loving the bobbing of the breathy throat.

oh, you pretty, little thing.

he's gonna fuck you so hard you won't even remember the boy who made you do this in the first place.

#skz smut #skz dark hours #stray kids dark hours #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan smut

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years ago

Text

✨ Seven days of:

Day #3.

✨ REQUEST: Request for El Presidente 😁 I've been thinking of this idea: Maybe Bishop is trying to flirt with the reader but we all know he's flirty with most women so the reader doesn't think much of it until they are at a party and “...How long has he been flirting with me?” another mayan: “Only the entire time.” [ I hope you haven't written something like this. I love you 💖]

✨ MADE BY: @ocetevasgirl

WORDS: about 1.9k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤

❚❙ OBISPO ‘BISHOP’ LOSA MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

“C'mon, dance with me”.

The whisper into your ear takes you by surprise, producing you some shivers down your spin. Turning around, you frown to El Presidente. Being insistent as fuck is a personality and it's his.

“Ay, ya, Obispo. I can't believe Vicki is running out of girls to flirt with”. Rolling your eyes, you have a drink from your beer.

“Have I told you how good my name sounds in your lips?” He replies not caring a shit about what you have said. “Vamos... You never dance with me”.

“Yeah, and today is not gonna be the day it changes”. Palming his chest with your free hand, you raise both eyebrows.

“Why?”

“Because I ain't a number on your list. It's called self-love”.

“Who said I want you to be a number?”

Rolling your eyes, you can't believe that he's denying the fact that he flirts with you the whole time. You like him, and you have been about to fall into his claws a lot of times, but then you see him with another girl sitting on his lap, or clinged to his arm. The deception is bigger every time.

“Why don't you give up at damn once?”

Not giving him the opportunity to respond, you pass him away with a loud snort. Getting out of the clubhouse, you're able to have a deep breath of fresh air closing your eyes, guiding after that your steps to the sofa on the porch. Resting your feet over the wooden fence and lying back against your seat, trying to keep blank your mind. The silence outside helps you more than you could think, only being broken by the crickets around you and the bonfire in the middle of the yard.

You aren't sure when he started to act like that. At the beginning of meeting you he was kind, respectful and sweet. But bit by bit, you started to see his intentions. Being aware that the only thing he wants from you is a one night-stand. It's painful, even if you don't want to recognize it, because you were feeling something. Something good. Until he changed. Then it turned into sarcasm and rage. Every time that you turn him down, he finds his way to one of those bitches who are always in the club, cheering the view. And of course it's not their fault, but maybe if they weren't there, things would be different.

“Can I sit?”

Taza claims your attention with a soft tone of voice, pointing with a hand to the empty seat by your side. Showing him a fleeting smile, you nod in silence. As soon as he sits down, the man places his free arm over your shoulders to urge you to rest your head on his.

“What's happening inside that beautiful mind, ah?”

“You already know it”.

He draws an oh in his lips, before chuckling shaking his head.

“He's really in love with you”.

“No, he's not. And, god, please! Don't take his side”.

“I would never lie to you, chamaquita. The problem resides in that he doesn't know how to show it properly. You're the whole time kicking his ass and he's desperate for opening your eyes”. That sounds like a possibility. Like a valid one. “Why don't you give him a chance? We have closed a deal that has given us a lot of privileges. He's happy and he only wants to celebrate it with y—”.

The main door opening interrupts your conversation, seeing the crew abandoning the club.

“We're going to Vicki's, you comen'?” Coco asks, having a smoke.

Taza looks at you, arching a brow, but you shake your head getting up.

“Do you want me to ride you home?”

“Nah, don't worry. I will walk, so I can… clear my mind”.

Placing a kiss on your forehead, the older joins his brothers as you come inside the club. The silence is installed all around, once the buzz of the engines disappear through the scrapping. You were wanting to stay a little more, because you don’t have any other plans for tonight than this. And you’re not in the mood to come back home, so you are thinking about finding a bar to drink, even if it means to be alone.

When you’re about to grab your jacket from a chair, the crash between two pool balls calls your attention. Turning around with the piece of clothing covering your forearms, you find Bishop standing up from the table with a cig in his lips. You can see him pretending normality with his eyes focused on his own game. Not understanding why he hasn’t gone to Vicki’s place, you’re starting to think that maybe he did on purpose. Pressing the inside of your cheek with the tip of your tongue, you can’t help but contain a laugh by showing up a smile.

“Need a partner?”

Having a smoke and swallowing it before spitting it, the mexican turns to a side to grab another stick and offer it to you in silence. So, that’s a yes. Putting your jacket back on the chair and leaving on the poker table your phone, you two start a new game after placing all the balls forming a triangle. Bishop gives you some space, resting his back against the wall, to see how you break the formation with an accurate hit sneaking a striped red ball into a hole, in the middle of the pool. It’s the first time he plays against you, and he isn’t sure that he has seen you playing before. But he knows that it’s going to be an interesting game. Holding his stick between both of his legs under your attentive gaze, El Presidente takes off the clock in his right wrist and the ring from the same hand.

“Since when are we competing?” Tossing a loud laughter, you place both hands over the tip of your stick, resting your chin there.

“If I win, you will give me a kiss”. Bishop sounds very convinced of beating you, rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt under the kutte. And you know he’s going to play hard, when he also takes off the leather garment to put it away.

Licking your bottom lip, squinting at him you offer him a hand to accept the deal.

“If you lose, you will stop with this… flirt, or whatever it is”.

At first, he doubts. You’re not stupid, you know that he will never stop flirting with you, but for a moment, you doubt too. Until he finally shakes your hand firmly, secure of himself.

Ball against ball, striped and smooth, they all end up falling through the different holes of the pool table. When the only one left is the number eight, you notice the tension installed between both. It’s your turn and Bishop is expectant, making you feel nervous with that grin contained under his black moustache. Leaning over the table with your gaze focused on the tip about to hit the ball, you calculate the exact way it has to take. Pulling it back, you move it forth with a fast move to beat the eight. Straight to the hole, bouncing against the wooden wall and coming back to the table.

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

Bishop breaks into laughs, not being able what just happened. It was inside the hole and that motherfucking ball didn’t fall through it.

“YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME! I WON! IT WAS INSIDE IT!”

Screaming like a madwoman and pointing at the pool with a hand, you turn at him. The man is running out of air, choking in laughs and almost arching back his body.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me, estúpido”. Palming his shoulder with more strength than you wanted to use, he complains this time. “I’m not playing anymore, I won”.

“You didn’t”. The man leans over the table, doing exactly your same moves, but having more lucky than you.

“I’m not gonna fucking kiss you”.

“Sweetheart, how many times you can say fucking in a sentence?”

“Every two fucking words”.

Chuckling and taking off from your hands the stick, he places it in the holder close to his.

“I’m going to be a good man, and let you kiss my face wherever you want”.

Taking your right hand, Bishop pushes you into his arms, wrapping with them your waist. And even if for a moment you want to put up some resistance, deep inside you being hugged by him is everything you want. There’s still a couple inches of distance between both when you toss your hands on his shoulders respectively, rolling your eyes as if you were feeling uncomfortable. Leaning forward, you press your lips on his cheek. The fucking longer two seconds of your life. But if you were thinking that this would be enough for him, it isn’t.

Bishop embraces you tightly against himself, making you feel warm and loved for the first time in your life. It’s not only the gesture, but what he is transmitting you with it. Now you’re believing what Taza has told you almost an hour again. And you don’t reply with a single word, when he starts to kiss your face with such dearly touches, as he speaks.

“I want you —one on your neck— to be mine —another going up to the line of your jaw— and only mine —the last one close to the corner of your lips—, why don't you believe me?”

His facial hair makes you some tickles, provoking you a long shiver that bristles your skin. There’s no distance between you two, guiding your steps backwards until your body meets the pool table. His mouth is coming closer to yours, tasting the waters just in case that you really want to push him away. But you don’t. You don’t do it, closing your eyes as soon as he presses his lips against yours.

You can taste the flavor of beer and smoke in his saliva, not being disgusting for you, with your fingers getting placed at both sides of his neck; caressing with the tips of them his short beard. The heat is starting to burn down your heart barriers, transforming your doubts and insecurities into ashes.

Pulling away your faces from each other, when you are running out of air, Bishop urges you to sit on the edge of the pool table as he makes his way to between your legs. And there’s a detail that catches your whole attention. He’s not hard. You’re sure that if he does the same moves with one of Vicki’s girl, or any man with any woman he just wants to fuck with, he would be already hard. Quite the opposite, El Presidente is only focused on showing you that you’re more than a night-stand for him.

“Will you give me an opportunity?”

“Just one”. You highlight, bringing your eyes to the darkest ones.

“As if I needed more than one, querida”.

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ✨#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc #bishop losa #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x reader #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa

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