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#until every cage is empty
ponku-po · 7 months
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suguann · 1 month
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PRETTIEST BABY—JJK MEN. * ˚ ✦
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✎. they can't help it, they're kind of obsessed with you. | wc. 2k+
tags. fem!reader, thigh riding, slight food play, unprotected sex, mating press, spit play, object insertion, oral sex, threesome, spit roasting, rough sex, degradation, praise kink, pet names [18+ only]
featuring. nanami, sukuna, choso, gojo & geto
an. dividers by @/hitobaby | masterlist
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↬ NANAMI
You don’t hear him when he walks in, too busy dancing around his kitchen to a song playing on the radio in that short sundress that always makes his pants feel tight. But at the sound of him setting his keys and briefcase down on the counter, you turn and give him a pretty little smile.
“Hey, I just put the kids down for a nap.” You pop a dollop of cream into your mouth from the bowl you’re holding. “How was work?” 
Nanami can’t think straight enough to answer, too busy staring at your cheeks, how they suck in around your finger, and the sound of your hum when the sugar hits your tongue. The sound has him thinking about you humming like that around his cock, or wondering if you’d tease the purpling head the way you’re licking your finger.
He shouldn’t be thinking it at all—not when the babysitter should be here any minute to watch the boys.
But he can’t help it. 
When you pull your finger out of your mouth, you have just enough time to squeak before his hand is palming the back of your head, and his lips come crashing down against yours.
He groans into your mouth, his hands carding down your sides before finding purchase at your hips to bunch in the skirt of your dress. You release the most adorable gasp when he picks you up, carrying you across the kitchen to sit in one of the dining chairs; his hold keeps you from falling off his lap as your legs drop from behind his back to around his thighs clumsily.  
Nanami’s hands slide up from the swell of your hips until they cup your breasts, his thumb circling a nipple reverently.
“Prettiest tits,” he mumbles to himself.
You moan louder than you should with the kids right down the hall, your fingers flexing around his shoulders. “Oh!”
“Shh, honey,” he smiles faintly, pressing kisses against your open, panting mouth. “Don’t want to wake the kids.”
His thumbs brush against your nipples through your dress, his hands spanning almost the entire width of your rib cage. You shiver from how the fabric of your bralette and dress rub against sensitive, pebbling skin, creating an electric pulse with every pass that travels down to where you’re aching and empty.
You bury your face in his neck, rolling your hips over the hardness in his neatly pressed dress pants.
“Do you think you cum for me like this, sweetheart?” His lips move along your jaw, a distraction that makes your head fuzzy. But you still hear him, and your thighs clench around him in anticipation—a delicious sort of ache tingling up your spine with a subtle thrust of his hips against yours.
“I—ah—don’t think—not like this.”
“I think you can,” he coos, nosing at your neck, pressing another kiss there. “Come on, be a good little wife and cum for me.”
Oh, god. You’re going to cum from this—maybe from the filth dripping from your husband’s tongue alone. 
Your thighs are slippery. You can feel it every time Nanami helps you roll your hips against him, and a sticky-hot heat swirls in your abdomen, moving all the way down to your curling toes. Your heart stutters in your chest to keep up with your rapid puffs of breath into his mouth. 
You’re going to…You’re really going to—
His fingers twist your nipple, and like a switch, your mouth falls open in a silent scream, and you’re shaking in his lap. Nanami helps you move against him to ease you through it, whispering tiny indiscernible praises through the fog of syrupy bliss.
“So good for me.” You hear a zipper coming undone as your head slowly clears. “You can be good for me a little longer, and try to give me another, okay?”
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↬ SUKUNA
He asks you to stay the night after he gets home late from a busy day at the gym—his clothes rumpled and hair sticking every which way. You get a little flustered at the thought of sleeping under the same roof as the stupidly attractive father to the kid you babysit, and you try to politely decline by saying, “I shouldn’t.”
“I can’t let you walk home in the dark,” he says, sounding just a tad tired as he heats up leftovers in the microwave. “Plus, Hana was disappointed when she found out you leave every night.”
“Really?” Hesitant, safe.
A little grin spreads across his face, making your breath stutter in your chest. “Yeah. Imagine how excited she’ll be when she finds you here in the morning.”
You bite your lip, already thinking about it. She is a sweet kid…
“If it’s…If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Cross my heart,” he tells you.
It’s surreal to think saying yes leads to him fucking you into his super soft king-sized mattress an hour later—you and Sukuna were never supposed to be a sweet mix of limbs and hot pants into each other’s mouths, and yet, here you are. If you’d known this would happen from wearing his clothes, you would have done it months ago.
He has two thick fingers pressed against your tongue to muffle your moans, the way you slightly gag around them sounding so much louder in your ears than the noises he’s trying to keep quiet. Your cunt feels swollen and sensitive just from him notching the head of his cock inside, only aided by the rough swipe of his thumb against your clit.
It’s already the most you’ve ever let any man do—no condom, nothing but slick skin—reasonable, responsible words turning to smoke with another inch inside you. 
“Look at you,” he groans, a large hand covering the small impression of his dick pressing up against your belly. “So fucking tiny, I hardly fit.” 
But he does fit, slipping in the last half inch, his thighs touching the back of yours, his fingers sliding a little deeper down your throat. The sudden need to get air into your lungs distracts you from the uncomfortable stretch between your thighs.
“Fuck, baby. Took me—ah—took me like a champ.” His breathing is labored, his voice rough. “How about a little more, okay?”
All you can do is nod, teary-eyed, whimpering. 
When his fingers leave your mouth to palm the back of your thighs, you can’t control the too-loud whine that escapes your raw throat—high-pitched and surely reaching beyond his bedroom door. His shoulders press your legs further into your chest, making you feel smaller than you already are underneath his broad shoulders, and he brings his hand back up to your mouth to cover the moans you can’t hold in.
“Be quiet—so fucking tight, needed this—and let me fuck this toy cunt.”
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↬ CHOSO
“Come on, baby, you can do it,” you tell the little boy, trying to make his way from the back steps to you sitting in the grass.
Choso watches from the porch, sucking on a lollipop as you play in the yard with his son. You hadn’t expected him to come home for a few more hours, and it’s hard not to look over at him, your cheeks hot from the amount of attention on you. 
Neither of you spends much time together outside of a few pleasantries before and after work, asking about each other's day, him asking if Yuji was good for you—he always is—before you go home.
Then, one drunken night, you’d ruined everything by accidentally sending a nude to him (your boss, no less). Now, he hardly says a word to you; no, you leave in a rush—hair in your face, coat hanging off an arm—before he can open his mouth.
But Choso coming home right around Yuji’s naptime (he’s never home this early) is about to change that.
“So,” you start to say after setting the baby monitor down and curling up on the couch, “have you gone to that new Thai place down the street?”
“It’s down the street. Of course, I have.” He crosses the room, almost looking like a predator with the way he stalks towards you.
“Oh—”
In a matter of seconds, Choso easily has you pinned underneath him like a butterfly, the skirt of your dress pooling up around your waist. Your head spins from the proximity, chest heaving when he moves down, down—-
He lays on his stomach between your legs, carefully wrenching your soaked panties to the side to expose your cunt. Drenched and vulnerable on his couch, your thighs tremble as he parts your folds with his thumbs to reveal the wet, clenching part of you that’s suddenly desperate for his touch.
“You’re messy down here,” he hums, popping his sucker out of his mouth to spit against your folds. “Drippy.”
The melted red sugary confection drips from his mouth onto your clit before ducking his head to swipe his tongue through your slit, slurping up the mess he made.
“Choso—oh!”
Your hands fly to his hair, messing up the bun he has it in, and he groans into your cunt. It makes the muscles in your stomach jump, and you tip your head back against the arm of the couch. The noises he pulls from your throat are embarrassing, whimpers and moans that make you sound as desperate as you feel.
“Knew you’d taste sweet ever since you sent that picture of this pretty pussy.”
Another cry flies from your lips when he pushes the sucker inside you, and one of your hands comes up to cover your mouth, trying not to wake the baby—you don’t want this to end before it’s even really started.
“You look so cute spread out like this, letting me play with you like you’re mine.”
Then he suctions his soft lips over your clit, and your vision goes white.
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↬ GOJO & GETO
You hadn't meant to interrupt your husband while he was in a meeting with Gojo. But it’d been important at the time—a reminder of an upcoming appointment that he forgot to mark on the calendar. Your daughter needed it for school. 
Now you’re wondering if it could have waited—and at the same time, you’re glad you didn’t.
"Look at you, taking cock like a bitch in heat," Geto sneers down at you where you're sprawled out against the expensive leather couch in his office, mean fingers roughly tweaking your sensitive nipples raw through your sheer bra. "Couldn't wait for me to come home, huh?”
You whine around Gojo’s cock that’s currently stealing the air from your chest, his grip tight in your hair to keep you from pulling away. 
“Fuck,” he mumbles, a grin on his lips. “Didn’t think your wife would be a good little cocksucker?”
You’re tacky-wet and sticky between your legs, staining Geto’s expensive pants, creating a large dark spot on the fabric below where his hips kiss the back of yours with every harsh thrust into you.
A distressed mewl leaves your lips when he reaches down to thumb at your clit. "Please," your voice cracks, garbled consonants, and vowels barely making sense on your tongue—overstimulated tears leaking past your hairline and onto the cushion under you.
“Shit, baby—” Gojo groans, practically fucking your face—a stark contrast from how Geto steadily presses in you. It makes you dizzy. “You keep whining like that, and you’re going to make me cum.”
Sweaty strands of hair cling to your temples as you writh underneath the two imposing men determined to ruin you. You feel like an exposed nerve—a tender bruise before it blooms—desperately chasing a release just out of your reach because Geto refuses to give it to you.
You don't stop yourself from bringing your fingers down to where he sinks into your slippery heat, hoping he'd just give in and fuck you how you want.
He scoffs but doesn't push your hand away. "Did I say you could touch my cock?"
You try moaning a response, only to have Gojo’s hips stutter into your mouth, a guttural sound releasing from his throat.
"But you're a slut for my cock, aren't you? Can't keep your—fuck—hands off it." You don't even answer, can't when the feeling of sticky ropes of cum paint your throat, making all the words stick to the back of your tongue—your mouth quivering as you remember to inhale through your nose.
Geto’s resolve slowly crumbles when you clench around his cock, his hips needily pressing into yours with a grunt. "Shit, princess, just like that. My messy, drooling slut."
Just when Gojo slips from your mouth, Geto starts pounding into you, making you squeal hoarsely and arch up into his firm chest. "Aah, yes! F-feels good!"
He brings the wide pad of his thumb up to your hot cheeks and wipes away the fresh set of tears collecting along your lash line. "C'mon, baby. Stop your crying and cum. Milk my cock with this greedy pussy of yours."
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lovelyghst · 28 days
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soft-tummy simon riley save me… cause you cannot look at that man and tell me he doesn’t love to eat!! like, a constant snacker. and his heart absolutely swells when you indulge so heavily in his needs.
it’s practically his love language, to scarf down anything you put on the table in front of him, and you can certainly tell since now he’s not nearly in the same shape as he was when you found him.
he likes to think you’ve fixed him in a way; spending his evenings cuddling in bed for hours on end with you, rather than heading to the gym for the second time that day to burn off dinner. thanking you for the savory meal with kisses all over instead of fighting off the impulse to purge his usual bland chicken breast and vegetables every night.
and it all hits him far, far deeper than just his gut; feeling it in his heart more than the soft layer of fat blanketing his tummy he has to see in the mirror every morning. just the fact that a sweet thing like you wants to take care of him, ensure he eats plentiful yet still healthy for his work, has him whipped. showering him with endless i love you’s and praising him all up and down until his cheeks tint a light, flustered pink and his dick gets achingly hard in his pants.
he won’t pretend the change was easy on him, seeing the clean-cut abs and fit appearance that made him feel young fade away the further you got into your relationship, but he’d also be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t prefer the pros to his current build way more.
simon begins wearing shirts less around the house on his lazy days, at your lovely request of course, and it does feel quite freeing. especially when he’s able to come up behind you in the kitchen, cage you in with his burly arms, bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless because part of the deal was that his shirts would go to you, and with nothing but your lace panties on underneath.
he can’t help but get riled up seeing you walk around like that, and you’re no saint either when you catch a glimpse of his broad chest and relaxed, pillowy belly as he reads the morning newspaper. you tend to drop to your knees and tug at his boxers faster than he can even greet you properly, showing him just how much you love him.
he loves eating you out more than anything, especially with a full tummy after a late meal. you’ll take his and your empty plates to the kitchen to clean up, but you’re being bent over the counter before you can even wipe it down!! and squealing his name in surprise won’t stop him, nor will your giggles as he’s lifting the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty ass, getting down on his knees and delving right in.
dragging his tongue through your drenched seam, grinning softly against your skin when you jolt and whine out of sensitivity. tongue-fucking your pretty, tight hole only for a moment before he’s returning to messily play with your swollen clit.
and you just know it’s entirely selfish, simon not even paying mind to the way your legs shake and relentlessly convulse and you can barely stay still because his stubble is unceasingly tickling your inner thighs. making you cum until you can’t anymore, and he’s happily forced to carry your numbed, twitchy body to bed so you can catch your breath and rest while he finishes up the chores.
would probably send you off by say something cliché about you being his favorite dessert. he’s so stupid when he’s horny.
simon is weak for when you ride his stomach, with both his hands planted firmly on your hips as you rub your bare pussy back and forth on his hard abdomen. his hidden muscles become more apparent the longer you go at it and the harder he holds you down, little whimpers spilling from your puffy lips as the light hairs coating his tummy create just the perfect amount of friction to your poor, little clit for that hot, familiar sensation in your lower belly to bubble up.
your hands clawing at his chest and shoulders, leaving lines and crescent indents in his skin that soon turn red in their wake, and the pain only turns him on more, his cock excruciatingly hard, long hums of pleasure omitting straight from his throat as he grits his teeth.
“yeah, that’s it, sweetheart—there’s my dirty girl. jus’ keep goin’ for me now, don’t stop… make yourself cum without me touchin’ you down there, ‘nd then i’ll fuck you real nicely after. alright, princess?”
and you soon follow through with just that, nodding decorously with tears welling at your eyes’ waterlines before you’re lurching forward, crying out his name. thighs giving out and fighting to ride out your orgasm, where simon then saves you with his attentive grip on your hips, finishing the job for you rather recklessly.
“good fuckin’ girl… y’did so well for me, love,” and every other gruff, dragged word of praise in his vocabulary echos in your fuzzy mind as you come down from your high.
you’re still catching your breath, fulling laying on his chest by the time he’s inching you backwards whilst taking his hard dick out from his boxers. lifting your weak hips for you as he whispers small, reassuring hushes right by your ear, soothing your winces as he fully sheathes you on his thick cock, inch by fucking inch.
he fucks himself up into you, not daring to make you overwork your body anymore, and he handles you so delicately you could almost fall asleep on his mattress of a body. you crumble to pieces with the vibrations of his chest from his unending groaning, the feeling of his veiny and rough cock stretching and filling you to the brim almost becoming minute compared to the sleepiness washing over you.
“there ya go, pretty… don’t have’ta do any work now, jus’ like i promised, eh?” he coos, and he could feel you smiling against his collarbone. one of his large hands cradles the back of your head while the other gropes at your ass lovingly. “takin’ me just fine, sweet girl.”
you bury your heated face into his squishy pectoral, whining at the overstimulation to your clit at the particular angle, left so utterly sensitive from your prior orgasm. you’re limp in his strong hold, securer than ever as he lifts your hips up and down his thick cock.
he uses your tender cunt ‘til he’s satisfied, groaning right up against your ticklish ear when he empties his hot cum in your throbbing pussy, the perfect thing milking him dry and turning you exhausted.
he actually sits in the moment for a peaceful while, coddling you against his rising and falling chest and murmuring sweet praises, until eventually his disciplined brain kicks in despite your protests.
“don’t go passin’ out on me yet, sweetheart.” you grumble out a refusing noise which makes him laugh softly, but apparently it’s not enough to win him over. “let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”
(simon and his size difference & free use kinks go CRAZY in this one. also this instagram reel is so him coded ok bye bye <3 cont.)
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envy-of-the-apple · 2 months
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Missed Chance
Dark! Gojo Satoru x reader
(Warnings: implied kidnapping, implied imprisonment, manipulation, dubious consent/noncon/rape, mc's going through it, afab!reader)
WC: 3.8k
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Despite his laid-back demeanor, Satoru was extremely diligent.
He hardly forgets anything, every little thing in his life adheres to schedule. It took you a while to get used to how strict he was. It took even longer to adapt.
You supposed there was an upside to this, at least it made the day predictable.
The obvious downside was there was no way for you to break the norm. His schedule was too tight, his security was too rigid. There was no way for him to ever not know what you were doing. You’d never have the chance to seek out fresh air, feel actual sunlight on your skin, not just by sitting on that caged balcony.
But today he’d left the door unlocked.
You could see the bolt. Unlatched. Open. He hadn’t clicked it shut the second he got home, entered a code only he knew on the security pad. You don’t even think he noticed. Did he forget? Was it all some fluke accident? 
“Dinner’s great, by the way.”
Your gaze shifts to Satoru. The two of you were currently sitting at the dining table, eating something warm and delicious. The recipe was old. Something your mother often made.
How was she, these days?
“I’m glad you like it,” You say, “I haven’t made it in awhile. I wasn’t sure if it would turn out well.”
“No, it’s delicious.” Satoru grinned. “You should make it more often.”
You should focus on the conversation, give all your attention to Satoru just as he wants, but the unlocked door is so distracting. He couldn’t have not known, right? Satoru was always diligent, he never did anything carelessly. This was obviously some sort of test. He was trying to gauge your reaction. Don't fall for it.
But there’s a tiny chance, too cautious to be hopeful. There’s a thudding in your heart. Apprehension. Excitement.
“Is something wrong?”
His words are light, you can’t sense any malice, but his voice still gives you chills. Had he seen you glancing at the door? Were you smiling? Did you look too happy? Too excited?
“It’s nothing,” You finally manage to cough out, “how was your day?”
Satoru hums, “Good, a little exhausting. The students have been running me ragged all day. They're getting stronger and stronger by the minute. It's a little scary, now.”
He’s rambling. That’s good. It meant he was relaxed. Eased enough to talk to you about trivial stupid stuff. That meant Satoru didn't know. 
Or maybe he did and this was all his way of lulling you into a fake sense of security. Was he baiting you? Acting all careless and docile just so he can pounce the second you make a mistake?
He glances at your bowl. "You done?" You realize how empty your dish is. You hadn't remembered taking a single bite. "Yeah, you?" "Licked clean." Satoru lazily grins and you manage a smile. "Here, I can take 'em." He carefully reaches over to grab the dirty dishes, ambling towards the kitchen. You listen to the sounds of water running, a clatter of plates and utensils. He's not watching right now, you think as your eyes slide open to the unlatched door. It was like it was taunting you. How quiet would you have to be? Would your chair make a noise if you stood up? Would the floorboards betray you? 
And then, you think of how difficult things got the last time you got out. The first time. The chains were brought back, the endless lectures and sensory deprivation. Why would you want a chance for it to go back like that?  You barely flinch when a hand drifts to your shoulders. Warm lips meet your neck.  "Come to bed," Satoru mumbles into your skin. His voice is soft and dull. It's not a request. You hum, standing up to follow him. The chair scrapes against the wood. Every so often, a floorboard below would squeak.  Perhaps it was a bit naïve to think you'd be left alone tonight. He'd been so docile, up until that pointing, greeting you with a chaste kiss and nothing more. Still, you don't expect the hands under your shirt, the bite on your neck. You don't hesitate. It's just a pause. An error. "...I thought you said you were exhausted," You remind him but you don't fight when he backs you up against the bed.  Satoru hums into your neck. He sucks in your breath, inhaling your scent.  "Changed my mind."
You don't say anything to that, maneuvering yourself into a position he wants. You lay back, allowing him to pin you against the soft mattress. He's not suffocating you, not like the first time when you were crying and scratching. The first time, when you realized this man wasn't entirely human, when he used to laugh at your pathetic attempts of escape. Soon, you realize that he retaliates only to what he's given. Play nice with Gojo Satoru, and he plays nice too. 
He's nice. Not kind. There's still a possessive edge to his touch when he grasps your thighs, pulling down your shorts to reveal cotton panties. He barely gets them off of you. You suppose you should be a little grateful. He ripped them apart the first few times. 
He gets a hiss from you then when his mouth finds the sensitive side of your neck, right where the skin meets the clavicle. Sharp teeth dig into your skin. In response you reach over, tugging his hair. It's the only retaliation you can ever really give him. Now, you know when to pick your battles. 
"Gentle." It's not a request, too soft. It's a barely comprehensible plea. He licks the wound in an apology. His next bite is softer, but just as marking. 
Satoru forgets that sometimes. How fragile you are. Every so often, you'd have to remind him if your sobs already haven't. Even now, when his hands are already starting to tighten around your wrists again. 
Or maybe you're being too optimistic. Satoru doesn't forget. It's more like he loses control every so often, enough control that he crushes you. You don't know which explanation is more terrifying so you ignore it. His teeth make an excellent distraction, nibbling at your skin once again. Nicer. Nicer, not kinder. 
Sometime later you're able to slip off his glasses, folding them and placing them on the night table. You're fully naked now. Satoru's barely unbuttoned his shirt. You gasp when he kisses your breasts, squeezing and groping them. 
"Don't think I'm ever gonna get enough of you, baby," he groans.
You smile tersely. That's what you were afraid of. 
He trails his mouth down eventually. He's in no hurry, both of you know you have the entire night. Your cunt is already dripping, practically ready for him, but he's known to drag things out-- make things more fun. Lithe fingers prod at your clit, hushing you when you give a sharp moan. 
Things always end the same. Nothing you experience here-in this bed filled with expensively soft satin- will ever be new. You're used to it, adapted. A part of you even enjoys the sensual touches, because fuck— Satoru's ridiculously good at what he does. Breaking you down, only to lift you back up to see him again.
You reach down just when his mouth meets your pussy. He savors you, his tongue moving painfully slowly at your folds, catching at your clit before starting over. You sigh, your body stiffening as you card fingers through his soft hair. It's always so malleable. You've seen the products he has in his shower, each more expensive than the last.
When Satoru passes over your clit for the third time, barely touching, you know he wants you to beg for it. He's needy like that.
“Satoru,” you plead anyway, your voice weak and pliant and his, “I want it.”
“What?” he pulls away, peering up at you, “What do you want, pretty girl?”
You don't hesitate. The you, a century ago, would have hated that. The you, a century ago, would have despised the pathetic bitch currently writhing underneath him. The you, a century ago, would have tried. 
But that was you a century ago. You're older now, maybe a little wiser too. 
“You,” you beg, “I want-want you to make me cum.”
It's all he needs to stop playing coy. He ducks back, grinding his tongue on your clit, before sinking to slurp at your leaking hole. He's messy with it, might even be louder than you, with the way he moans into your pussy. Sometimes, you wonder if this is more for him than for you. If he always wanted a place to worship, be beneath than. 
Soon, your mind shuts off as his tongue meets the tangle of nerves again. You're moaning, letting yourself arch your back, feeling the pleasure flood your body. It's easy to forget where you are, who you're with. Satoru's like a drug in these moments, easily washing away your anxiety and hatred, just to replace it all with him. 
When you tug at his hair, his voice of approval rumbles through you and it's almost enough to push you off that edge. He keeps you there, right at the cliff, letting your voice get more and more delirious and ruined. 
"Come on, gorgeous," he says, voice muffled and damp, "almost there for me." 
It's a slow build-up, heavy, unburdened, but it's just as powerful. You hit your peak just as he lavishes your clit with his tongue. He holds you down by your thighs, letting you grind against his face as you whine out his name in a broken sobs. He finally releases you when the first pangs of overstimulation make you jolt, when your tugging gets a lot more insistent. Even then, you'd be a fool to assume he left you because you were asking him to. 
He's so pretty like this, you think dazed. Hovering over you, his soft hair like a halo, lips pink and wet with the essence of you. It'd be foolish to compare him to an angel. He's more like God. 
"Fuck," he breathes, "look at you." 
When Satoru bends down, the kiss is sweet. Gentle. Loving. You let yourself enjoy it. His love is suffocating, but sometimes it's just enough. 
He sits up, letting you up too. His favorite position is you in his lap. You think it has to do with his desire to be controlled, to rescind his power, for someone else to do the work for once. Just a little. When you're on top of him, he's giving some of it away. 
He sits with you, back up and straight, face close to your chest. He's not willing to give away all the control. 
Every part of him is beautiful, his cock is no exception. Flushed and already leaking at the tip. Your hands are cold. When you go to touch, he hisses. 
It's nice to have reminders that he's still human. 
"Sorry," you say. He swallows your hand with his own, keeping it there. Satoru's always been so enthralled by suffering. Whether it's yours or his. 
Your pussy is dripping again, creating a stain on his jeans. Your hands reach out to grasp his shoulders, steadying yourself. His shirt feels expensive to the touch, you wonder if he'll get upset if you rip it. Maybe he'd laugh. He always said he liked it when you were unpredictable. You always thought it was so unfair whenever he was clothed and you weren't. 
He leads you down, hands on either side of your hip. You lean back as you feel the stretch, deeper and deeper. Like instinct, your pussy tightens like a vice. He sucks air through his teeth. 
"So fucking good." He leans forward, head buried in your chest. His lips find one of your nipples. "You're always so fucking good, pretty girl. How did I get so lucky?" 
It's between a laugh and a gasp when he sinks into you, right to the hilt. You stay like that for a moment, listening to him breathe in. And out. And in. You think he might like this more than any actual movement. The intimacy, rather than the sensual nature of it. 
His impatience overrides his desire eventually. He rolls his hips into you. Slow. Steady. Already you're starting to feel it. You hum through your lips when he gropes your chest mindlessly, like touching you is just an afterthought. 
It takes another muffled whimper before he starts to pay attention to your face. He gives a harsh thrust, leaving you gasping, before he leans up to kiss the corner of your mouth. 
"You're a little quiet," he mutters, tasting the skin on your jaw. He licks. You shiver. 
"Oh?" You ask, though it's mid-moan. You can feel him smile. 
"Hm," he agrees, kissing you at the throat, before grabbing your hips again to go a little faster, "Like it though. Means there's more of you to break." 
You don't know what he means by that. You're probably better off not knowing, closing your eyes gripping his shoulders and pretending he isn't what he says he is. 
You're so close that your clit grinds on his skin, sending sparks up and through you. You try to lean back, trying to alleviate just how much it is, but Satoru doesn't let you. He follows you immediately, letting you lose your balance and fall right into the bed with him on top of you. 
"Satoru I-" you get cut off by the pressure, practically babbling, trying to get your words out even if you can't understand them yourself. 
He laughs into the crook of your neck, reaching down to rub at your clit. "This what you need?" 
"It's-it's not-Satoru-" 
He practically growls at your sob, hiking your leg up to his waist so he can pound that much deeper into you. 
"You-you can't-shit- you can't get mad at me for going crazy when you're acting like that." He hisses, dark and vile, but he can barely contain himself either. 
The hand on your clit, the insistent fingers, ensures you go first. You spasm on his cock, milking him as your back arches and you let out this shameless whine that's so needy and animalistic. He keeps acting like he's that much better than you, but he's not too far behind. He clutches the back of your neck, kissing you so aggressively you can almost taste the blood. 
He falls apart beautifully above you, crashing and burning. You can barely recognize him cumming inside of you as he falls forward, sucking on your clavicle like he can hold himself back. Another mark you'll wear for tomorrow. 
You're still panting by the time he recovers. He's purring now, lavishing your broken body with languid kisses. You accept the affection gratefully, kissing him back when his lips meet yours. 
"I love you," he mumbles, satisfied, quiet, "I love you."
You hum, but you don't respond. Satoru never cared either way.
He doesn't pull out, you can feel his cock steadily hardening inside of you. You don't acknowledge it. 
No matter how many months you've been with him, you will never get over how beautiful he is. 
Especially now, when he lays right next to you, painfully still, eyes closed. It's a rarity to see him sleep. You don't think he ever does. His white hair drifts against his forehead, almost like a curtain of silk. His face is uncharacteristically plain. His smile is gone, if anything there's a hint of a frown. 
A part of you wants to touch. Reach out and feel the soft skin. Maybe then you'd understand what it was to be so beautiful. Maybe then you'd understand how someone so beautiful could be so cruel. 
In the end, you don't. Instead, you carefully unwrap himself from you. He stirs but doesn't awaken. You keep an eye on him until you're out of the bedroom door. 
The mornings are quieter than the evenings. You adhere to a schedule, just like you always have. Dishes need to be put away. The table needs to be reorganized. The mornings are a bit more freeing. As much as they can be. Satoru isn't so abusive. He'd recently gotten you a book you were interested in. The TV still worked. Most mornings, you'd make you and him a cup of tea. You'd sit on the couch, swathed in a blanket. 
Most mornings, he was here with you. He's not human you're not sure what he was but he likes to pretend that he is. Mornings would be a play of domesticity. Both of you mutually working towards an idea of breakfast. You'd listen on as he'd prattle about things that shouldn't really matter, but they do, at least to him. Years later, you think you understand why he's so obsessed with normalcy. To a man who could be described as a God, monotomous work must be a delicacy. 
But Satoru isn't here, and the door is unlocked. 
You can see it right from the kitchen. Still untouched from last night, the security screen happily chirping. It was just across the hall, less than a few steps away. If you wanted to, you could crawl to it. How easy would it be to step outside? 
You've been reminded of your mortality before. The first time wasn't due to Satoru. You were a kid, barely a teenager. Playing by a lack, balancing on a log before you had slipped, and nearly drowned. You woke in the hospital a day later. There's still a scar on your upper neck. Satoru kisses it sometimes. 
Being aware of your mortality with Satoru is constant. Akin to a coat, thin enough to not be hot, but you can still feel it cover your skin. The first time you left, he wasn't necessarily upset. More or less he was amused, as if you were a dog that had just found a way to sneak out to the backyard. As if the thought of you outsmarting him was laughable. There was no anger when he brought you back, gently kissing away the tears. The following days were intense, the air was suffocating. He was careful about the fire escape now. Maybe, back then, he didn't think you were so desperate. You know what they say about wild animals.
You weren't a wild animal anymore. You were a tamed rabbit.
But Satoru isn't here, and the door is unlocked. 
You think you'd go home. Not your old home, that apartment in the middle of the city, cramped yet with too little time to do anything about it. You'd go to your parent's house. You'd collapse into your mother's arms. You'd clutch onto your father. You'd squeeze your siblings to death. You'd eat warm food-your mother's cooking. Somehow, you'd convince your entire family to abandon their fluffy mattresses and sleep in the living room. Together. 
Perhaps, you'd enjoy the city. You never once saw the beauty in it, not until you were locked in this penthouse. Nowadays you find yourself staring out the window for hours, looking at the twinkling lights. Maybe you could be part of the crowd again, slipping through the cracks of being average. You could visit that cafe you'd been meaning to go to but never fully checked out. You'd pay for overpriced food, and drink cold sweet drinks that burned the back of your throat. Strangers would be all around you. You'd never know the meaning of silence ever again. 
You shouldn't think like that. It's ridiculous. It's cruel to hope. Nothing regarding Satoru is ever that easy. It's a trap. Another sick game he wants you to play because he's bored or he's testing you or just because he can and he will. 
But Satoru isn't here, and the door is unlocked. 
You keep the sink running because it's noisy; because you're hoping it's loud enough to cover your footsteps. Would be that easy? Has it ever been that easy? The bedroom door is still closed. The front door remains unlocked. 
You take one step where you know you're not supposed to. And then you wait. 
Heaven doesn't fall. There's no explosion, no heat, no flame, no pain. There's nothing. Just the sound of water collecting in the sink. 
You take another. It's even smaller. But less hesitant. 
You take another-
"Good morning!" 
His voice is always so soft and warm, but it makes you jump. Satoru appears right as you close the tap, done with the dishes. He's not wearing his glasses, nor does he wear his blindfold. He comes as Satoru, grinning down at you. 
You expect the kiss on your forehead. "Why weren't you there when I woke up?" You can hear the pout in his voice. 
You shrug, a small hesitant smile on your lips. "Hungry? I was thinking about crêpes this morning." 
"Fancy," Satoru muses. Another kiss on your temple before he's moving away. "We got everything for it?" 
You hum, focusing on the sink. The droplets of water. You will yourself not think about your sinking heart, falling down and down and down into your stomach. 
"Oh, would you look at that?" You jump at his words. He sounds just as cheery as always.
When you turn around his gaze is locked on the front door. It's still unlocked. 
A laugh escapes his throat. Light and airy but it doesn't help your darkened look. If anything, it makes it worse. 
"Looks like I forgot to lock the door last night. I'm so forgetful, sometimes." He complains despite you both knowing the truth.
His footsteps are so loud. Why are they so loud? Why can you hear them rupture your ears?
"Guess we got lucky. Who knows who could've gotten in." The lock clicks shut. 
Immediately, you burst into sobs. 
It's ugly. Pitiful. The kind that makes you sink to your knees because your emotions are too much. Your relief is too much. It's too much. It's too much because you knew. You knew what it was and yet you were so so close. The relief is there, but the fear if he had taken one more minute, two more seconds. 
He's there as always. Stooping to your level, taking you within his arms. You don't fight. You never fight. You allow your head to rest against his shoulder, uncaring if your tears soak his expensive shirt. His constant words of you're okay you're okay are supposed to be comfort. So are his warm hands, sinking into your clammy skin. You could almost believe his sincerity. It would be so easy to. 
But it's his smile that gives him away.
Too wide.
Too much teeth. 
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astrophileous · 6 months
Note
Also the thought of Derek holding up readers bump once she’s farther along? The Tik Tok couples who do it and the immediate relief on their partners face is so sweet 😭🖤
wait omg this is actually a rlly cute concept. I'd like to imagine that it was JJ who shared this trick with him and he couldn't wait to test it out as soon as he found out about it askkjdsk
Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist
Derek looked up from the plate of chicken in front of him at the sound of your whimper. It was quiet, but it was the fifth one Derek had heard since you sat down for dinner. You were quick to school your expression after that, smiling at him as if nothing was wrong.
As the clock ticked nearer towards your due date, Derek noticed that your stamina was rapidly decreasing as well. He would hear muffled groans and tiny moans slipping past your lips several times throughout the day, but as soon as he went to ask you what's wrong, you'd put on your perfectly crafted smile and wave him off. Derek made sure to soothe your ache and fatigue in any way you allowed him--feet massages before bed were becoming a routine that he was looking forward to do every single night--but Derek kept thinking that there must be something more he could do.
"Are you finished?" Derek asked as he began stacking all of the dirty dishes together.
"I can do the dishes," you offered.
"Nice try, Bug." Derek made a swift work to grab your empty plate, pressing a quick kiss on your forehead in the process. "I got this. You go rest somewhere, 'aight?"
"That's all I seem to be doing these days," you grumbled. "Resting."
"As you should be."
Once the dishwasher was loaded and started, Derek checked to see if the message he had sent promptly before dinner had been answered. He smiled when he saw the respond that the other person had sent. Exiting the kitchen, Derek put himself in an urgent mission to find you.
"Bug? Sweetheart?"
"In here!"
He followed your voice all the way to the laundry room. "I thought I told you to rest."
"You did."
Derek raised an eyebrow at your answer.
You continued to sort through the laundry as you glanced up at his face. "Do you need something?"
"Yes, actually." Derek moved closer until your whole body was caged between him and the washer. "I wanted to try something."
"Try what?"
He kissed your shoulder. "Do you trust me?"
"Should I?"
He chuckled. "You should."
Derek's hands sneaked around you then, from your waist and all the way to the underside of your belly. He told you to take a deep breath, which you obliged, before he slowly and carefully lifted your bump.
"Oh."
You were practically melting in Derek's arms, with the tension gone in your shoulders and the stiffness dissolved from your back. He watched with a fond smile as a relieved sigh fell from your lips.
"Does that feel good?" Derek asked.
"Very."
Derek laughed at the blissful expression that had taken over your face.
"Where did you even learn about this?"
"I consulted an expert." When your curious eyes searched his, Derek simply said, "JJ."
"Hm. That makes sense."
"I'm gonna let go now, okay?"
As careful as he had been when he lifted your bump, Derek slid his hands out from underneath your belly, kissing your temple when they finally secured themselves on your hips.
"That was amazing. Thank you." You turned around in his arms before wrapping your own around his neck. "You do know that you're obligated to do this for me at least once a day from now on, right?"
Derek's responding grin couldn't be any bigger. "Anything for you, sweetheart."
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l o o k | a t | m e
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l o o k | a t | m e
Y/n and Tim are sharing a very intimate moment, and he wants nothing more than for her to look at him. Let's be honest, who doesn't want to look at him?!
Warnings and such: ummm yeahhhh....absolutely smutty...soft smut, but still smut! 18+ no minors. Some swearing and mentions of spit...definitely not proofread! let me know if I missed something?
A/N: I have a lot of smut written in general and I like it better than the soft stuff, but i like soft stuff! Not sure how I feel about this one so lmk!
ALSO: lmk what other tags i should add to these posts!
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"Look at me."
His voice was gentle but demanding, the echo of his words like a lifeline to drag me back to reality, out of this incoherent but beautiful headspace.
Look at me
Like a soft echo, something to focus on. His voice.
My back arched and hips rolled. I felt like I was on fire, and I was loving every moment of it. As I tried with any strand of willpower I had left to open my eyes, the vision of Timothée came into focus. He was beautiful. He was always beautiful, but this was a different kind of beautiful.
"Look at me," He repeated, smiling softly down at me.
With pleasure.
A few moments passed, or maybe a few hours, before my eyes grew heavy again, vision blurred as I fought against rolling my eyes back with pleasure.
I gasped loudly, a string of groans following instantly as he bent over me, his hips burrowing into mine as he thrusted deeper into me. My legs wrapped tightly around his lower back, hands clawing desperately at him. I thought, for a moment, I would die if I lost the feeling. He dropped to his elbows, caging me below him and began trailing sloppy kisses across my neck and chest, interrupted only by feverish pants and profanities which presented themselves as deep groans through gritted teeth.
"T-Tim," I gasped again, feeling his hips roll in an effort to get impossibly further inside me. My nails dug into his back before reaching for his shoulders.
I was desperate. I could feel it coursing through my body. Close wasn't close enough.
Sweat dampened curls bounced in front of my eyes and tickled my nose when he took a moment to look down at where our bodies met. That was one of his favorite sights in the world. My hand reached higher, tugging the hair at the top of his head- I needed his eyes on me. I needed him to watch me come undone beneath him. He obliged.
One hand snakes it's way under my shoulder, pulling me down to meet his thrusts. There was no way of possibly being any closer, but everything was worth a try. My hips rolled up again, head back and my shut tightly. I opened my mouth, desperate to scream out the tingling sensation that rumbled in my stomach, but nothing came out. My breath quickened and I managed a moan, but nothing near what I was feeling on the inside.
"Look...at me," Tim repeated, panting between thrusts. His arm left my shoulder, finger trailing lightly down my stomach until he reached the bundle of nerves I had between us. I didn't need to open my eyes to see the smirk on his face, but my eyes opened quickly at the warm feeling of fluid that wasn't my own landing just above where I needed him to touch me. I looked down and watched as he spit drooled again, thumb collecting it and pressing harshly against me.
I was done.
I screamed, legs shaking around him as my orgasm washed over me. He continued to fuck me through it, wave after wave of pleasure consuming my body. It was almost too much. Almost.
"Fuck!" He grunted loudly, fingers digging into my hips as he chased his own release.
The room was silent, aside from the two of us desperately trying to catch our breaths. There was no more moaning, groaning or echoing of skin against skin. I whimpered as he pulled out of me, the empty feeling consuming all of my thoughts. I hated it. Tim ran a finger up my slit, collecting whatever juices spilled out on the tip of his finger.
"Open,"
I did as I was told, the salty taste in my throat sent a new wave of excitement through my. I fought, again, to open my eyes, to take in the sight of him- sweaty and restless and fucked. Though heavy eyelids I watched him stand, pull on a pair of long forgotten boxers and run his hands though his hair. He smiled when he caught sight of me staring.
"Pretty baby," He whispered, climbing back in bed and straddled my still shaking hips. "you alright?"
"Mhmm," I mumbled, not sure if I could remember how to talk.
He smiled and bent over me, feather light kisses trailing across my face, down my neck and across my collarbones. His hair, once again, ticking my nose. I ran my fingers gently up and down his back, soothing the raised lines and crescent shaped bumps I had left against his skin. They'd be gone my morning, almost entirely anyway, but for the rest of the night, each touch was reminder and heated my body with excitement and anticipation.
"Come on," his voice echoed in my ears again as he spoke, climbing off of me again. "Let's get cleaned up."
I didn't move. I couldn't. I wanted more.
"Y/n," He cooed again. "Look at me..."
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yanderenightmare · 5 months
Note
Geto with curse reader?
Geto Suguru
TW: implied noncon, held hostage-ish, Geto uses the word monkey
gn reader
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You backed up to the very far end of your cage. Holding your knees tucked tight to your chest as you shivered on whimpers and troubled breathing. Your captors, in the dozens, all lay limp on the floor – while the man who’d killed them all made ripples in the bloody pool with his sandals.
You couldn’t see his face. You couldn’t see much more than that below his waist. But you sensed it nonetheless – he wasn’t a normal man. You figured, since you only barely saw him, he wouldn't see you if you stayed silent – but naturally… if you sensed him, it was only a matter of time before he sensed you, too.
“They’re all gone now.” He said, and there wasn’t anyone else there besides you.
Still, you kept quiet. Hoping maybe he was simply talking to himself.
But then he took steps in your direction, making splashes in the blood soiling the floor, until he crouched down next to your cage. He pulled back the curtain hiding you and revealed the blood splatter decorating his smiling face.
“You don’t have to fear anymore, I won't hurt you.”
Humanlike curses aren’t normally all that feral – with exceptions, of course, but you weren’t one. As someone who’s tasted plenty of curses, he could tell your type. You weren’t violent in nature. Unlike most curses, your technique wasn’t defensive but simply protective and could only inspire carnal passion – almost like an aphrodisiac. And like a squid’s ink, it would seem you couldn’t control it either – releasing it like a mist when you were rattled.
The room went thick with it now – but weak a curse as you were, it hadn’t much of an effect on him.
Still, he found you quite cute where you sat, eyes wide, looking at him warily.
“You’re a- a sorcerer. You’ll kill me too. That’s why you’ve come, isn't it?” You whispered – as though you didn’t dare speak any louder.
He could only imagine what they’d done to you, but if your state told him anything… he’d say it wasn’t very humane. 
Monkeys are an ugly pest, not just a stain on sorcerers – but curses too, it would seem.
“I came to slaughter the pigs piled on the floor.” He corrected. “They owed me a lot of money, you see. Their fates were sealed the moment I heard they were all broke.”
It didn’t seem to ease your worry. You still looked as though you were waiting for something. Something you dreaded with every inch of your goose-bumped skin. 
“Suppose, now that they’re all dead, you’re the only one left to pay their debt.” He chuckled, but you didn’t find it very funny.
Sure, he could twist you into a ball and consume you like he does all the curses he encounters – you’d be a nice addition to his collection, and you didn’t seem like you’d taste any bad either. But still… there are other methods of coveting something – especially when they’re as pretty as you – though perhaps not in a cage. 
Either way, you didn’t seem like you’d be much trouble, and besides… he’d been meaning to get a pet to cure the loneliness of coming home to an empty temple.
He smiled, standing up.
You felt your cage lift from the ground, swaying as you were carried above the bloody bodies growing cold with death beneath you.
“Don’t worry, pretty curse. You alone will be payment enough.”
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ronwestbreeze · 2 months
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you're gonna go far | 9
pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human! reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. word count: 6.3k warnings: mentions of suicide (not explicit!)
read on AO3
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Tsu’tey remembered when he first came back from death.
It was like clawing out of the ground and feeling as though there was dirt filling his lungs. He remembered Arvok hugging him and crying into his shoulder when he found him awake. He remembered his father sitting nearby and quietly thanking the Great Mother for this second chance, for this mercy, even though they didn’t deserve it. He remembered his mother calling him a gift and that Eywa favored him, that he was the true and chosen Olo’eyktan to the People. Like he was some type of god that Eywa created herself.
He remembered feeling so horrible that his mother didn’t even see him as her son anymore. But a god of sorts. An idol to look to.
Someone so perfect that no one, not even a demon or the daughter of a “simple” Tsahik deserved his attention or praise.
The People celebrated once they learned that Tsu’tey had survived the battle, even when all the odds were against him. In a way, they looked to him as some sort of god too. Not to the extent that Artsut did but idolized him, nonetheless. Tsu’tey remembered feeling frozen as if he were turned to stone, hardened into an empty vessel.
He didn’t feel like himself. He just felt exhausted.
All. The. Time.
And no matter what he did, that exhaustion or feeling of wanting to sleep for a long, long time, never left him. He was just stuck in this state where he was both living but half buried in the ground.
It wasn’t until Tsu’tey confessed to what he was feeling to Jake who then put everything he felt into words that he could not—still couldn’t—quite understand.
“It’s a common thing we humans feel,” Jake explained once when it was just the two of them in the middle of the night.
Sitting in a tree, watching a lively celebration far below. That world seemed so far away at the time. And it was then that Tsu’tey felt like the god his mother praised him to be. Disconnected from the world that he so cherished but watched over them with a protective heart.
“That exhaustion, truthfully, that probably won’t ever go away. This depression can wear us down until all we want to do is sleep without worrying about waking up. Living doesn’t feel the same anymore. Almost like it’s a burden to both you and everyone around you. And then comes the exhaustion.”
Tsu’tey stared at Jake, both thoughtfully and to memorize every detail of the dreamwalker’s face. “Have you felt this?” It was the predictable question at the time. He seemed to know exactly what Tsu’tey felt, so much so, that it sounded as if he lived through—still went through this experience.
Humans were as peculiar as they were dangerous. They hid their feelings. They didn’t allow themselves the freedom to feel as if someone or something was holding them back. They were often birds trapped in a steel cage when the way out was right in front of their face.
That was a certain observation one would notice if they paid close attention. Tsu’tey paid Jake a lot of attention. Memorized his micro-expressions. Noted the way he hid behind an impenetrable wall with a single window he only allowed certain people to look through.
It’s what Tsu’tey imagined loving Jake would be like. Finding ways to climb over that wall to embrace that lonely soul on the other side.
Which was why he was keenly aware of the fact that Jake never answered his question. But instead said, “Many people don’t always have someone to keep them above the surface. That is why most end up drowning forever until they fall asleep. It’s okay to feel these things, even if they’re hard to acknowledge. And if you need to talk, I’m always here. I’m too human not to help you, even if you don’t approve of me.”
While Jake’s words were somewhat flowery and cautious in delivery, there was Neytiri, who grounded him with her very blunt words.
“You are not a god. You are Tsu’tey.”
She did not see him as a god. And he was grateful for that.
Perhaps that was why he so easily fell for her after the war. Or, rather accepted his feelings after forcing them back because of his guilt with Sylwanin.
You did not see him as a god.
And he was relieved by that.
Yet that relief would soon be buried beneath the horror of something else he saw whenever looking at you.
It was himself.
Half alive. And half buried in the ground.
And Tsu’tey had this strong urge to start digging at the ground with his bare fingers. Until his nails were filled with dirt. Until his clean skin was dirtied. Until they bled.
He owed you that much.
“That demon did this!” His mother, Artsut hissed while she knelt next to Arvok’s sleeping body in some form of protection. She stared up at him, pleading, desperate, and angry. “Will you let that creature run free like you did before? Look what that thing’s done! She’s hurt your blood! Be Olo’eyktan and exact punishment on the ones that hurt your family!”
“Reeds didn’t do this.” His mate, Jake protested calmly—as calmly as he could when it came to Artsut. His arms were wrapped around him so tightly his muscles twitched whenever he moved, tail lashing behind him as he continued. “Arvok had already explained what happened. The Tipani warriors were going for Hell’s Gate. Arvok had tried to stop them, they got pissed and injured him—”
“And who’s fault is that?!” Artsut snapped viciously, eerily resembling that of a palulukan. “If that demon hadn’t landed here none of this would be happening!” She turned her fiery gaze onto Tsu’tey, her pleading becoming more adamant as she spoke. “You must kill it! This is your doing, you never should’ve let it live! And now our clan is in danger because of that creature—”
Jake scoffed, his tail swinging now, “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
Artsut hissed at him, “You do not deserve to speak, demon! I should have connived my son to kill you the first day you came to us—”
“Enough!” Tsu’tey hissed as he stalked forward and grabbed his mother by the arm.
“Tsu’tey—” She tried protesting only to be interrupted by his hiss.
“Be quiet, mother.” He led her out of his shared hut and went outside.
Once they were further away from the entrance, he let her arm go.
“My son—”
“No, mother.” Tsu’tey didn’t want to hear any excuses or laments that would make him feel awful for putting her in her place. “I’ve warned you and you’ve gone too far many times now. You are my mother, I do not wish to remove you from my children’s lives—”
She gasped and grabbed his wrist, “Do not be so cruel to your mother! You would prevent me from seeing my own grandchildren?!”
“You do not even accept the one son that I have!” Tsu’tey snapped but stopped when her eyes widened. He did not wish to shout. He did not wish for any more division. But she wasn’t making it any easier on him. So he continued slowly, “Jakesully is my mate. Neytiri is my mate. I will not allow you to keep disrespecting them. They are a part of my life, they make me happy. Shouldn’t that be what you wish for your own son? Do you not want me to be happy?”
Artsut scoffed in disbelief as if what he was saying were unbelievable, “Of course, I do. I wish for nothing but eternal happiness for my one and only boy—”
“I am not your only child.” He said gently, his heart falling. “Your son nearly died—”
“I know this! Do you think I do not know?!” Her eyes became glassy, her grip on his wrist tightening. “But know this, son. I do want your happiness. That is what any mother wants for her children.”
Tsu’tey watched her with a frown. He wished, he really wished he could believe her. Maybe a part of him did—wanted to. But he couldn’t help this unease in him whenever she was around him and his mates. He’d always feel her disapproval. No matter what flowery words she’d say, she would not change her opinion of Neytiri, Jake, Neteyam, and even their unborn little one.
But today he would not push any further. Today he was simply too tired.
“You should return to your home.” He told her and pulled his wrist free from her grasp. “Arvok will stay with us tonight—”
“Tsu’tey—”
“It is closer to the Tsahik’s where she can come and go freely to check on him.” He turned his back to her as the next words spilled out of his mouth like blood. “I do not want you near during that time. Or for a while. Not until I say you can come.”
There was a beat. And then there was sniffling. Tsu’tey refused to look at her. “You are abandoning your mother! You would do this to your own mother, who carried you for so long—” Tsu’tey ignored her words and ignored the pang in his chest as he forced himself to walk away. “It is that demon that has done this to us! They keep destroying everything we hold dear! If you will not kill it then I will—”
At that, Tsu’tey whirled around and stalked toward her as he spoke warningly, “You should be thanking Eywa that your son isn’t dead! You should be thanking our Great Mother that the demon had brought Arvok back instead of leaving him for dead! You should be thanking her that the arrow did not hit him but the demon instead! And yet here you are, plotting to kill Eywa’s favored!”
At this, Artsut scoffed, “Eywa would not favor a stain on her beautiful creation—”
“As Olo’eyktan I order you to stay away from the de…” He winced, not wanting to sound as venomous as his mother did. “—from the dreamwalker. I will carry out the will of Eywa as I intend to do. As this clan is intended to do. And because of that, she is under my protection now. She has saved my brother—your son.  She has earned this right. You will leave her alone.”
“And what if I don’t?!” Artsut shouted as Tsu’tey turned his back away from her and began stalking back to his hut. “Will you punish your own mother?! Will you kill me?! Tsu’tey? Tsu’tey, answer me! Do not turn your back on me! Tsu’tey—”
Her cries continued to ring in his ears, making him tremble.
He did not feel like a god.
He just felt like a failure.
Failure of a son.
Failure of a mate.
Failure of a leader.
He did not return to his hut.
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You were lost. That was fine.
To be honest, you weren’t even focusing enough to go where you wanted. Frankly, you weren’t even sure how to get to your mother’s burial from here. All you did was wander around until you were far enough from the clan, until all you were surrounded by was forest until your legs gave out to the point where you couldn’t walk anymore.
There was a large leaf nearby, big enough for you to duck under it and sink to the ground as it covered your head from the rain. There was still a bit of daylight out, so you had more than enough time to stay there. Because getting back up was going to be difficult.
And you weren’t even sure if you wanted to keep going.
Your mother’s songcord was dangling from your hands now as silent tears spilled down your cheeks. You cried. And cried. And cried. And cried. And cried. Until you were hallowed. Until you weren’t sure if there was anything left of you at this point.
God, you hadn’t cried in so long.
You were dead. Your real body was dead. That wasn’t even your choice either. You had been poisoned, you died, and now you were in a new body.
None of it had been your choice. You didn’t want this. If you had the choice—if it were really up to you—you would’ve let the poison kill you. Anything was better than living in this hell where everything just seemed to be against you.
No matter what you did to make your situation better, something always came along and tackled you back to the ground, pushing you further and further until you began sinking again.
Death could’ve ended all of that.
But even that choice was taken out of your hands.
You could’ve done it now.
You could’ve gone back to Hell’s Gate, grabbed your knife, and…
And—and—and—
For a moment, your mind was quiet as you stared at your mother’s songcord. As you stared at the bone that ended the string.
You were a coward.
Something rustled a few feet away from you. Your body froze and considered the sounds around you. The rustling continued, drawing a little too close for your comfort.
With that, you ducked from under the leaf and moved away from the sounds.
Because even if you somewhat wanted to die, you sure as hell knew it wouldn’t be at the hands of a palulukan.
No. You were just a coward.
Dying took bravery. And you didn’t feel too brave at the moment.
All you could do was stagger forward until you found something to latch onto. To take you away from this until you felt brave enough.
Until then, you kept wandering through the forest. Letting rain pour onto your already wet and somewhat matted hair.
You tugged at one of the locks and hummed to yourself. You should do your hair.
At that, you kept going until eventually you found a waterfall. By then the rain had finally let up, the air was cool, and the smell of rain stayed with you despite the downpour disappearing.
It would’ve been calming if you allowed it to be.
The area itself was beautiful even in this dreary weather. You found a rock just a few feet away from the mainland and jumped onto it. Sitting down with your legs crossed, you leaned over the edge a bit, staring back at your reflection in the water.
Well, you supposed you looked as horrible as you felt. Your hair was one of the main things contributing to that. The braid that Neytiri made was still intact but the rest of your hair was just a wild mess. It was beginning to mat together and form dreads.
So, not particularly happy with the look and wanting a good enough reason to distract your hands and mind, you began doing your hair.
Diving into the waters wasn’t a good idea considering your healing injuries. Instead, you ducked your head into the waters. It was nice. Feeling the cool water against your skin, waking you up slightly. You would’ve stayed like this for a while and you did, considering you could hold your breath for a while.
The tension in your muscles relaxed and right when you were feeling yourself being pulled to sleep, something yanked on your queue, bringing your head out of the water and causing you to fall onto your back.
“Ow!”
“Skxawng!” You looked up only to regret it when you found Tsu’tey scowling down at you.  “What do you think you are doing?!”
You rolled your eyes and tugged your queue out of his grasp, “Obviously I came to drown myself. Congrats, you just saved the inconvenience.” Tsu’tey frowned, looking incredibly serious. You looked up at him and sighed, “I’m kidding. Do you guys not make depressing jokes now and then? Or is that only a human thing?”
He didn’t respond and you weren’t exactly waiting for one. Instead, you turned away from him and began parting your hair. You didn’t have a comb so running your hands through your thick curls was the best you could do for now. The best you could do at this point was take two strands and begin twisting them.
Tsu’tey appeared next to you, looming and watching you do your hair with a huff, “You’re doing that wrong.”
You glared, “I know how to do my own hair thank you.”
He didn’t move and you ignored him as you kept going with your hair. That was until you felt longer fingers wrap around yours and remove it from your hair.
“Hey—”
You felt his hands in your hair. Instantly, you went to yank yourself away from him only to stop when you felt his fingers move. It wasn’t rough or harsh, it was actually rather careful and precise. Any other day you would’ve shoved him away and told him to never touch your hair again but seeing as his braids were pretty neat and concise, you reconsidered.
Hell, maybe you’ve lost it. You were seriously letting Tsu’tey—the man who hated you the most—do your hair.
Maybe when you died you somehow went into a whole other universe. Yeah, that had to be it.
He was mumbling under his breath in Na’vi. You caught some words here and there like “humans” and “useless” a few times. But other than that his voice had been too quiet and quick for you to understand or at least translate some of the things he was saying.
Eventually, his hands disappeared from your hair. “There.” You watched as he stepped away from you to grab a bow from the ground, stretching his fingers, his face turned away from you so that you couldn’t see his expression.
You felt your hair to find some of it braided while the rest would’ve been left to mat together again. You tugged on it thoughtfully, perhaps you could let them turn into locs. It would be easier anyway. A lot more manageable considering you often forget to do your hair these days.
Next to you, Tsu’tey had also grabbed an arrow and approached the edge of the rock, pointing his bow down at a group of fish floating around the rock the both of you were on. You halfheartedly watched as the arrow flew into the water seconds later and hit one of the fish.
Absentmindedly you tugged on another braid as he went into the water to grab the arrow, “The Tsahik is looking for you.” He took the arrow from the water and yanked the fish off the tip. “She says you should not be up right now but resting. She is very upset at your disappearance.”
You didn’t respond. Tsu’tey looked back at you expectantly and you frowned, “So you came looking for me?”
A part of you was half-joking and half-annoyed when asking the question. You just wanted to be alone for a while. And dealing with Tsu’tey was the last thing you wanted right now.
“Yes,” Tsu’tey responded easily as he threw the dead fish to the spot next to you. You cringed away from it as he drew back another arrow. “And by the time I am done here, you will be coming with me to be checked by her.” You glared at the ground. A beat went by. “I will not take no for an answer. Your wounds are still healing—”
“Can we just, can we wait for a while?” You dropped your hands from your hair and into the waters. “I just—I need a place to breathe, okay? Back there, it’s just too suffocating. And I really don’t want to fight today. I’m too tired, so please…”
You didn’t look at him. But you did hear the arrow release and hit the water. Another beat went by. The waters slushed as he moved, “So you came here. For peace.”
It wasn’t a question but more of a statement like he understood it.
And reluctantly, you nodded in response.
For a while, you were quiet. Both of you. Tsu’tey grabbed the arrow and tossed the fish onto the rock. The water filled the silence, bringing you a sense of comfort in this long silence. You didn’t feel obligated to speak and Tsu’tey didn’t bother to conversate either. A big difference between him and Jake who would probably be talking your ear off with stupid jokes and infuriating jabs.
Not that it wouldn’t help a bit.
But right now, all you felt was exhaustion. Even Tsu’tey allowed himself to appear somewhat tired, at least from what you saw whenever his face was turned in your direction.
 “I thank you.”
You looked at him then, his back was still turned to you as he continued, “For saving my brother. Arvok. The arrow, he could have died if you hadn’t taken it for him. You—”
“Anyone would’ve done it.” You shrugged off, not wanting this type of attention. Especially not from him. What you did may have been somewhat heroic but you sure as hell didn’t feel that way. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“But I will.” Tsu’tey drew his arrow back again. The arrow flew again and hit another fish. “Even when I treated you horribly. You still saved him.”
You frowned and shook your head. His thanks for some reason made you feel worse. You didn’t know why but you wanted it to stop. “Like I said, anyone would’ve done it if they were in my position.”
“Hmph.” Tsu’tey tossed the third fish onto the rock and jumped back onto the rock with you. He grabbed the three fishes by the tail and nodded toward the forest, “Come, we should head back—”
“No.”
You heard him sigh, “Dreamwalker—”
“I can’t go back right now.” You blurted out, your hands clenching into fists as you glared down at your reflection. “I just can’t, okay? I can’t go back and face the pitiful looks Norm will send me. I can’t go back to Neytiri telling me that Eywa saved me or gave some fucking second chance that I had no say in. I can’t go back to hear Jake apologize over and over and over again until I go fucking crazy! I just can’t!”
You buried your face into your hands, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to face the world. All you felt, all you wanted to do was just crawl into a hole and hope that everyone left you alone. You hoped that you could lie down and become stone. You hoped you could become the tragedy that was amid the beautiful Pandora.
You hoped—You hoped—You hoped—
Something within your body told you that you were crying but no tears came.
Half alive and half buried.
Until they bled.
Something heavy landed on top of your head. It took you a moment for you to realize it was a hand—Tsu’tey’s hand. You dropped your hands from your face and frowned, reluctantly looking up at him to find him staring back at you.
God, these people were straightforward when it came to expressing themselves. Even Tsu’tey, who you considered the hardest to read out of the three.
“It is sad.” Tsu’tey squatted down next to you, his hand gently ruffling your hair. Your ears twitched, “I am sorry.”
You were taken aback, to say the least. Never in a million years could you imagine Tsu’tey out of all people, comforting you. Frankly, you never thought he felt anything toward you to enact such a strange reaction from him. And yet you didn’t move. Too afraid that if you flinched then he would take his hand away.
A part of you felt awful that he had to do this. And a part of you…
“You don’t have to do this.” You mumbled.
He huffed, “I do what I want. And I choose to be here. You saved my brother.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to comfort me.” This unyielding guilt was overwhelming, You almost wanted to shove his hand away. “I feel like I’m using you.”
“Then use me.”
You shook your head again, his hand remained firm, “You’re impossible—as usual.”
“Hmph.”
The both of you stayed like this for a while longer. It was getting dark. Creatures would start coming out soon. Perhaps you should stop being so stubborn and move already.
Tsu’tey didn’t say anything though. He was rather still and quiet. You looked over, for a moment wondering if he was asleep.
Only you found his yellow gaze staring at something intensely. Frowning, you followed his gaze.
Floating toward the both of you was an atokirina. Huh, you hadn’t seen one of these in a while. And even now they were still as pretty as you remembered them. Last time there were multiple, but this time it was one.
You stood and Tsu’tey followed seconds after.
Even for this, you remained still. As if moving would somehow scare it off. Tsu’tey must’ve had the same thought, standing as still as a statue next to you as the atokirina floated over your heads. The pure creature hovered over Tsu’tey’s forehead for a bit until it came over to you, tickling your nose.
Tsu’tey watched you and the atokirina in astonishment. It floated between the two of you for a moment before finally floating away.
You watched it in for a moment longer before your arm began to throb. Tsu’tey noticed you rolling your arm back uncomfortably and finally snapped out of his trance, “Is your arm bothering you?”
“A little.” You admitted reluctantly.
With a nod, he grabbed the fish and then the bow as he gestured toward the forest, “Come. We should return now. Mo’at is waiting.”
This time you did not protest. You glanced back toward the direction the atokirina disappeared before finally following after Tsu’tey.
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When you got to Mo’at’s hut, she was already scowling at you. And surprisingly it was rather scary. So much so, that you unconsciously shrunk behind Tsu’tey so you wouldn’t feel any of her wrath. Jake and Neytiri were there as well, for what you did not know, but they appeared to have been waiting for yours and Tsu’tey’s return.
“Well, now we know you are well enough to foolishly run off.” Mo’at huffed as she pointed toward the spot on the floor. “Sit.”
Without waiting for you to respond, Mo’at dragged you to the spot and sat you down on the floor. Tsu’tey remained near the entrance and watched you silently. He hadn’t said anything ever since you started your walk back to their base. You wondered if he was at all bothered about seeing the atokirina. Or if it was on his mind at all.
While Mo’at wiped the dried mush from your arm, Neytiri squatted down next to you, “How are you feeling?”
“I died.” You said dryly. “Other than that, I’m swell.”
Jake sighed from his spot closest to Tsu’tey and the entrance, “Well, her snark’s intact. You sure she’s not back to normal?” You rolled your eyes, Neytiri rubbed your back while glaring at Jake.
“We saw an atokirina,” Tsu’tey spoke for the first time since you left the waterfall. “It came to the demon and I…” He said the rest of his explanation in Na’vi. You frowned, looking at Jake and Neytiri to gauge what exactly he was saying. You watched Neytiri’s ears twitch as her eyes brightened. Then there was Jake who looked completely serious, tail swinging behind him. Mo’at gave nothing away as she added more mush to your arm. You held back a scoff, irritated that you were the only one who couldn’t understand a single word.
“Another sign from Eywa,” Mo’at spoke in English. She looked at you almost knowingly as she continued. “This dreamwalker is here for a reason. Maybe for the same reason, Jakesully had come to us. Or something completely different. Perhaps this is her way of choosing a fourth for you.”
Neytiri perked up instantly, her hand squeezing your good shoulder gently. Jake’s head was bowed, hiding his expression. And Tsu’tey just frowned. And you felt your entire face grow hot. Suddenly you were rather aware of everything around you. If you had been standing, you would’ve fainted.
“Or maybe it’s something else?” You offered, trying to move the conversation forward instead of enduring this awkward and uncomfortable silence.
Mo’at watched all four of your expressions and huffed, “Come. We will just ask the Great Mother ourselves—”
“No, we don’t have to.” Jake stood straighter, tail lashing behind him.
Neytiri stood and sent him a look, “Ma’ Jake—”
But he shook his head, “I’m not doing it. I’m not taking her as a mate. That’s not fair and you know it—”
“And if it is in Eywa’s will?” Mo’at challenged, raising an invisible brow. “What then, Jakesully?”
“Don’t I get a say in this?” You added, already growing irritated by this conversation.
“Yeah, you’re right. You do have a say in this. But I’m gonna make this easy for you.” Jake nodded steely. “We’re fine as three. There is no room for another—especially her.”
“Fuck you!” You snapped, shooting to your feet. “Who the hell do you think you are—”
“Hey, I’m on your side here!” Jake argued. You failed to see the surprised reaction from your outburst, you failed to see the way he raised his hand as if easing you like you were a dangerous animal about to pounce—no you saw that actually. And it only pissed you off even more. “Do you want me to lie and welcome you into my family with open arms just like that? Or do you want the honest truth, Reeds? You value that, right?”
You let out a humorless laugh, skin boiling in anger now, “You really are full of shit, you know that, Sully? So you think it’s okay to just discard me then? As if I don’t have any fucking feelings? Am I just an emotionless body to you, Jake? Am I not supposed to be offended? ‘Especially her’? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”
“That’s enough—” Neytiri started only to be stopped by Mo’at who watched the two of you keenly. Even Tsu’tey didn’t even speak up. He didn’t snap at you nor did he stop Jake. He just watched on in grim silence that neither you nor Jake bothered to notice.
“I’m doing this for you—I’m not sayin’ this just to be an asshole, Reeds!”
“Could’ve fooled me.” You snickered mockingly. Honestly, you had no idea why you were so angry. You were just tired. Tired of him. Tired of this. Tired of all this bullshit. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, Sully, you’re not exactly prize material either, so there. Why don’t you just say that instead of hiding it behind some horse shit—”
“Jesus Christ.” He muttered in disbelief. Jake looked to the sky, struggling to respond. Struggling to string the words together.
But it shouldn’t have been that hard. “You’re right, I do value truth, Sully. So be fucking honest and just spit it out. Enough of the trying to protect me bullshit—I’ve heard enough of it and I don’t need any more of it. Say what you want, do hide now. It’s easy when it comes to me, right?”
You were just angry. So, so angry. You weren’t even sure if this anger deserved to be directed at him. If this anger was even about this conversation. You weren’t even sure why you were fighting so fiercely.
Jake scoffed, “And you think you make being around you easy? You don’t think maybe there’s a reason I blow up at you? You don’t think maybe it’s because you can be a huge asshole sometimes?”
“Oh yeah, this mate shit is going to work out perfectly.” You snorted.
“I can’t mate with someone I don’t love,” Jake spoke more bluntly toward Mo’at, Neytiri, and Tsu’tey. “I don’t know how much more honest I have to be about this. I can’t love someone like her. How can I? Not even a fucking miracle could ever get me to, and that’s the truth. You happy now? Is that what you want to hear?”
The tent was silent by then. Neytiri, in the former of your eye, had her tail lashing behind her. Tsu’tey, who stood further back behind Jake held an unreadable expression instead of his usual severity but offered nothing. Mo’at just waited with her keen eyes on all four of you. She then sighed and shook her head, mumbling something in Na’vi.
You wished you weren’t so affected by his words. “Fine. Don’t love me, Jake.” You wished your heart didn’t sink to the pits of your stomach. You wished your heart wouldn’t take this much hut. You didn’t even want him. You didn’t even want a mate.
But you were knowable. Unlovable.
You’ve always known this. So it shouldn’t have hurt so much for someone to tell you this straight to your face.
“Earn that shit.” You muttered, schooling your face into your usual impassive mask despite your achy eyes. Now you looked to Mo’at who was watching you in particular, “Is that all, Tsahik?”
You failed to see Jake’s shoulders fall and his ears lower, “Reeds—”
Mo’at spoke over him, “I want you back here in two days. Your wound is not fully healed yet.” She then looked at Tsu’tey, her eyes seeming to want something from him, “Is there a problem with that, Olo’eyktan?”
At this, Tsu’tey shook his head stiffly, “No. You are Tsahik. You must continue your work.”
“Mmph.” Mo’at huffed in what appeared to be disappointment. “Then you may leave, dreamwalker.”
You nodded and stalked toward the entrance. Neytiri tried reaching for you but you had been to quick for her grasp to catch, “Ma ‘tanhi…”
Jake avoided your gaze as you passed him, “I’ll see you later, Neytiri.” You stepped out of the hut, not bothering to look back.
After jumping down a few branches and landing on the ground, you found that two warriors were waiting for you on pa’li. One of the warriors guided a pa’li toward you, which you got on without much difficulty.
And without looking back, the pa’li began to move. You were cold. And tired.
Half alive and half buried in the ground.
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“I will make sure my warriors return her safely to the human base,” Tsu’tey spoke stiffly as he ducked out of the hut. Jake watched him go, uneasy about what his mate could’ve been thinking at the moment. It was the most difficult when Tsu’tey was like this. He was hard to read and wouldn’t let up until he confessed to what he was feeling. So, all Jake had to do was wait until then.
But right now, he did know one thing.
Fuck.
He’d gone too far.
Neytiri had watched you go just a few feet from the entrance of the hut and by the time you were long gone she stalked back inside. Jake flinched when her glare stabbed him through his thin skin when it came to her fury, “Why did you do that? Why were you so cruel? Why are you trying to push her away?”
His ears flattened again, “Tiyawn—”
“No!” She shook her head and backed away from his reach. “You humans and hiding your true feelings. I know you, Jake. I know what you said wasn’t true and yet you chose to hurt her anyway. Why? Why do this?”
Jake frowned, his body tensing, “How do you know this isn’t how I feel—”
“Baah!” Neytiri hissed, smacking his shoulder. “Even if what you said was true, you did not need to be cruel! You do not need to hurt her! Do you even care?!”
“Of course I do!” Jake argued. He wasn’t heartless. Of course, he saw how his words affected—continued to affect you.
God, why did you always react that way when it was him? Why did his heart always feel heavy whenever it came to yelling at you these days? You weren’t like this with Tsu’tey, you always fired back. Why was it different with him? “What I said was true. I am doing this for her! I’m trying to protect her—”
“From what?” Neytiri hissed as if the words he was saying were false. “No more excuses, Ma’ Jake, what is it that you are so afraid of?!”
How did she do it? How did she fiercely protect you like this without a care in the world? How did she fiercely care about you without being frightened of the consequences? “You weren’t there when Artsut threatened her life.” At this Neytiri faltered, her ears lowering slightly but Jake continued before she could interrupt her again, “She’s already being pulled into this mess with the clans. What happens if Artsut, a woman with great influence within this clan, comes for her? What happens when we take another human mate that she doesn’t approve of? What then? It’ll be our fault that Reeds becomes ruined. It’ll be our fault for not being careful—”
“That is not for us to decide,” Neytiri told him bluntly but her face softened—only a bit. “Your heart comes from a good place but your words are misguided.” She gingerly grew closer to him until her hand could reach the curve of his cheek as she gently caressed it. “Make this right. Enough of this fighting. Can’t you see she’s tired?”
Mo’at, who had been crushing some herbs in a bowl, did not refute her daughter’s wise words.
Jake was outnumbered. But he was also tired too.
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You came back to Hell’s Gate to find a white sheet over your former body, right in the middle of a nearly empty room.
Cry. Just cry. Cry.
Instead, you stayed in that silent room. You did not look away from the body.
Half alive and half buried in the ground.
All you needed was a tombstone.
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boom! chapter 9! this one chapter i was definitely nervous to write because we see jake and reeds at, in my opinion, their worst in their slowly developing relationship and a peek at the beginning of tsu'tey and reeds' future relationship.
hope you enjoyed it! chapter 10 should be coming soon!
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(i'm not adding any more people anymore!)
taglist: @doggyteam2028 @bigbootahjudy @innercreationflower @n7cje @celi-xxmoon @readerofallthingss @sillyblues @saturnhas82moons @1mawh0re @aprosiacperson @loserwithnofriends @garfieldsladybird @slutforsmut4ever @lik0
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agnesafterhours · 8 months
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[02:22 am] [smut]
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“i feel pathetic.” he grumbles under his breath, bobba eyes following your finger’s path down his chest through his open hoodie—the sides of his lovely kuromi outfit currently being zipped together by a centimeter or two of the tailpiece in front of the cropped fabric.
you lean down towards his face until you feel the ghost of his minty breath against your lips, his hands slighty shaky where he holds your hips on his lap.
“good.” your smirk gives him goosebumps, “isn’t that what you call me when i’m whining about how much i need you? pathetic?" you watch as he swallows, pretty blown pupils rapidly switching from staring at you lips and back at your eyes again. “and isn’t that just what you’re doing, bunny?”
“i’m not whining about anything,” his voice comes out in a whisper, hands slowly stroking your sides as you gently kiss along his neck, “i’m just saying how i feel. isn't that what you want me to do, anyway?”
he refers to all the times you asked him to voice his needs for you, know-it-all grin plastered on his pretty face. it was astonishing how annoying he managed to be even when he's under you. minho never gives up control, not really. not for long.
and even though you're very much aware of his nature, it still hits you like a truck every time he suddenty starts to run his mouth.
“so tired, aren't you, pretty? can't even ride me right.” sweat dribbles down your naked chest, hips swaying faster with each word that leaves his lips. “wanted to be on top so bad.” a moan slips his open mouth. “you can't take it”
“i can take it. i can.” you try to refrain your eyes from rolling to the back of your head, you can't seem to be enjoying this more than he is. you won't give him the satisfaction. “you just look so pretty in this, i-”
he chuckles, a sudden spank to your ass leaving you breathless. “thank you, baby. you look so pretty when you're fucked stupid. don't you wanna look pretty for me?”
you fall forward, both hands caging his head under you. “i do! wanna be pretty for you, minho.”
he tilts his hips in an attempt to switch positions, but your method of keeping him under you by forcing your knees on the bed backfires— his cock hitting a spot so deep you can't hold back the cry that leaves your swollen lips.
“no! i can- make you come- make us come.” you're breathing heavily above him, hips swaying frantically as you fight your way through each word.
“i'm too deep inside you, pretty. it's too much.” his hoodie’s ears sit unassuming beside his red face—the stark contrast between the outfit and his red toned chest glistening under it making you grunt each time you opened your eyes.
“it's not- fuck! shut up, minho.” you feel your throat becoming sore with each loud moan.
“i know you don't want me to.” you suddenly feel his harsh hold on your ass, groping the skin as he forced you up his cock. he grunts when he feels you scratching him, hand easily sneaking in the zipper above his shoulder.
“now be good and bounce for me, baby. come on.”
© all rights reserved. i do not allow reposting and/or translations of my work. minors and empty blogs do not interact.
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vampirzina · 1 month
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❥ ┆valentines day (w. Bi Han, Johnny Cage, Kenshi, Kuai Liang, Kung Lao, Raiden, Tomas + Liu Kang bonus!) hcs
tw: established relationship, fluff/sfw & nsfw/smut utc, mdni(!)
notes: happy valentine’s day chat! for a few, requests will be open. please read these before making them! closed! so sorry.
masterlist ⋮ lace divider credit
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Bi Han didn’t really recognize the tradition, until you. To him, it was just another day, as most holidays—life in the Lin Kuei was much different than the one outside of it. So when you showered him with affection and adorned him with gifts unexpectedly, it kind of flustered him underneath that poker-faced and grumpy exterior of his. Bi Han gives you flowers (real and ones of ice), and the occasional silver jewelry every other year. It makes him subtly smile under his mask when he sees you wearing it.
It’s Johnny Cage’s second favorite day of the year, other than his birthday. If he remembers this day, he absolutely spoils you rotten to the core with gifts; flowers, chocolates, new clothes, rose petals in the bed and in a dimly lit bath (and if you drink, your favorite wine), the whole nine yards. It’s cliche, but Johnny Cage doesn’t let you leave until you’re completely loved up.
Kenshi takes a breather from all his outside work on this day to love on you. You wake up to an empty bed, but that’s because he’s cooking breakfast (or lunch) for you—he’s exceptional at it, and you both thoroughly enjoy your day with each other. Kenshi prefers spending Valentine’s day inside, but if you want to go out, he’ll take you anywhere you want to go and buy you whatever you want. Of course, you do the same and he is very happy, even if he doesn’t explicitly say so.
Kuai Liang already has his gifts laid out for you. He planned in advance; duty calls and he wouldn’t be able to spend the morning or so with you in his warm embrace, so that he could greet you as soon as you woke and smother you with hot kisses. Kuai Liang leaves a heartwarming letter, and when he comes back from his day, gives you an even warmer massage to kick things off a bit. Whatever happens next is completely up to you.
Kung Lao already knows you love him, but it’s nice to be reminded of that with your affection. In turn, he takes you out to a fancy (and surprisingly private) dinner in an unsung corner of Madam Bo’s shop (or some other fancy place), somewhere where you could see the stars in the night sky. He loves to look at the way your eyes gleam in the moonlight, and he says so outright amongst other loads of compliments. Kung Lao makes sure to make you laugh a ton tonight.
Raiden looks like a hopeless romantic today even though he's in a relationship with you. He plans almost months in advance; the flowers he planted were kept all year and were finally going to be harvested just to give you. Raiden makes an effort to give you everything you want, take you anywhere you want. You’re sure to return the favor at the end of the day with your own presents, whatever they may be.
Tomas spends the night before and the entire day of practically clinging to your side. You’ve never had a weighted blanket until now, and you both could’ve spent the entire day in bed if you’d let him have you that way (he’s already asked Kuai Liang for the day off). Tomas leaves the bed once you do, and when he comes back, he comes back with gifts. He got the flowers last because he wanted them to be as fresh as possible.
+ Liu Kang leaves a humble setup of a table full of gifts for you. He’s also the one to leave a sappy note of apology and not-all-that empty (but not all that full) promises to you, to return just before the night was over after his duty at the temple were done with. Although he believes he doesn’t need a holiday to want you the inexplicable way he does, he understands the holiday and humors you when he sees how much it makes you hot in the face for him.
However,
Don’t you dare take the jewelry off after Bi Han got you pressed into the mattress. With every tear into you, his eyes don’t just train on your damp fucked-out face twisted in overstimulation from him ruining your hole over and over again tonight. His eyes flit up to the sight of the ring on your finger peeking from the boughs of crinkled sheets from you holding on too tight, and your necklace jittering further from your sternum to neck with every thrust… Bi Han’s eyes screw shut as he hilts with sudden roughness, your surprised hiccup overlapping with the so-rare whimper as he pumps you full.
Or think that Johnny Cage would let the rose petals on the bed go to waste. Some of the petals have fallen off of the bed by now, and others are stuck in forgotten crevices. You can smell each others’ soap. The lingerie you’ve bought is somewhat torn by impatient fingers, as you take your sweet time with him beneath you. He hates when you tease, almost as if you’re playing his own game with him. He wants to grab your hips himself to quicken your pace, but he only has red hands from sharp slaps.
Kenshi feels you up in your shared bed as the night falls further into itself. Soft yet passionate, tattooed hands wrap around just about anything as you bounce atop of his dick firm enough to knock the wind out of him. His body trembles sharply when your core squeezes him that certain way it does, your sore knees wound inward while legs are kept apart by Kenshi’s abdomen partially sunken in from his breathlessness. Between your gasps and his groans, he can only keep himself to extend this moment for so long.
The massage with Kuai Liang didn’t get very far. You didn’t want it to. Your arms somehow feel cold compared to Kuai Liang’s as he’s practically searing your insides with the both of your slick, your neck having been a perfect fit for his head to hide in as your fingers carve your way into the scalp of undone hair. He’s caged in by your shaking legs on his hips, languid strokes in and out of you drawing soft cries and sighs from you. He’d go as fast or as gentle as you wanted him to today.
Kung Lao reveled in hearing you sing his name as you both faced the window. He was fast and rough, despite having been so soft the minute ago—he was like a man starved, but he was intent on making you finish first (this time). You didn’t know whether to keep in awe at the skies or look back at your lover as he pounded into your hole without tame in his stroke. The inner corners of his brows were pressed together in focus as he held you at the junction of your hips to guide you, and his lips were parted just enough to let out an occasional deep groan or shaky breath. The sounds from your room could make even the dirtiest a prude.
Raiden's face burned when you got around to giving him your gift. A set of fingers twine with yours as you look up at him from his dick, but you make eye contact with no-one—his arm is draped over his shut eyes as he focuses on keeping from combusting right then and there. Noises of his neediness slip out time to time and involuntarily, and he can’t help but drive his hips further into your mouth when you hum around him. He lets out one of those shaky and coarse sounds again when you both make eye contact, sketching you between his legs in his mind.
You realized any self restraint you’d thought Tomas had was all a fib when he coaxed your plush thighs around his head two hours ago. He didn’t even bother with what he wanted tonight, as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you with just his tongue. It’s sloppy down there; his mouth is drenched from your juices and you, his unceasing work with his mouth. He couldn’t settle for which sight of you he enjoyed the best; the arch of you lowering after he’d reel out a gentle one from you, or the messy, knee-buckling one when he did as he pleased with you.
+ Liu Kang who hated leaving you so needy. But tonight he’d do anything you wanted, something that would sate you even for a minute, and he wouldn’t finish until he was sure you were done spending out your want for him after he’d left you yearning and unfulfilled for so long. At the end of it all when he apologizes and holds you close to him, he only leaves you blissed out and gasping again. He can’t promise his return to you often, so he makes every minute fucking you worthwhile.
@𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐀೨
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kurocamille · 3 months
Text
❝maybe frat boys aren’t so bad (aka cars are meant for driving!)❞
Frat!Bakugou Katsuki x reader (except he’s not stereotypical and mean) mdni
part 2
4.1k+ words
you attend your first frat party and run into a familiar flirty face. he offers to drive you home from the party, the empty parking lot outside your dorm building definitely seems like the perfect place to get down and dirty…
warnings
part 1 of 2 (2 will have full smut..) 1 oc who’ll come into play later…., car sex, fingering, handjobs, heavy makeout, hickeys/neck kisses, dry humping/grinding kinda, female/afab reader, no pronouns used, inexperienced reader, “baby” as a pet name
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It was your first time going to a college party, miraculously enough. This year, you had met a group of girls who had quickly invited you into their friend group. Somehow, despite you refusing over ten times, they had managed to drag you to a frat party.
After getting yourself a cup of mysterious red punch, you stand in the crowd of people. Bodies brush against you—intentionally or unintentionally, you don’t know. You’ve seen a few of your friends since arriving, but it seems like most of them are off doing God knows what with some drunken frat boy.
You can feel the beat of the music in your chest, as if it’s pumping your heart for you. The strobe lights flash around you. Sipping away at your drink, you go wandering in search of someone you know.
When you exit the common room, you float down a hallway with fewer people. Despite fewer people being there, the hallway is stuffy, and you can barely walk through without knocking shoulders with someone.
You aren’t watching where you’re going, and suddenly you trip on the bunched up carpet beneath your feet. The half-full soda cup goes flying, and so do you. It spills on the front of your shirt and down the back of a nearby couple who, until now, had been in the middle of making out,
“Ugh!” the girl shrieks, and you look up to see her glaring at you. She comes out from under the guy caging her, and you realize it’s the girl Mika from one of your classes. As always, her hair is perfectly coiffed, and she’s wearing a dress that barely covers her ass.
The girl shakes her hands of the sticky liquid that spilled on her, but seeing as she had previously been caged under that other guy, she had barely gotten wet. Meanwhile, the guy stands in a sopping wet shirt. You also recognize him; Bakugou Katsuki. He’s in another one of your classes, one of which you had been paired up for a partner project. Unlike Mika, he doesn’t look like he’s trying too hard. A white short-sleeved band t-shirt complements his black jeans, something you wouldn’t have expected a frat boy like him to wear.
Despite being in the same fraternity/sorority group, Mika and Bakugou could not be more different, and you can’t help but wonder how they ended up together. While Mika is extremely stereotypical and, if you might say, annoying, rude, and a bitch, Bakugou is really nice. That one project had taught you that not every frat boy is a shameless womanizer and prick. Although he’s a definite flirt, he’s always been respectful and acknowledged you as an equal—opposite of what Mika had done to your friends, and now you.
“I’m so sorry,” you say hastily.
“Don’t min-” Bakugou starts, but he’s cut off by Mika.
“You better be sorry!” she all but screeches at you. “This is a brand new set of nails. They’re completely ruined. You better repay me for this. It cost 10,000 yen, you know that? Can you even fucking afford that”
“Look, I’m sorry I did that, but I don’t know if I can repay tha-” you start. The look she gives you is incredulous as she snarls before interrupting you.
“I actually can’t believe you. You must be a dumb slut dying for Bakugou’s attention. Imagine sabotaging me just because he chose to be with me! And you’re so poor you can’t even afford to fix your mess… Ridiculous,” she huffs, pressing a pointy finger into your chest and probably expecting you to bow down and beg for forgiveness.
You try to apologize, but Bakugou steps in before you can say anything.
“Mika, who cares,” he sighs. He looks at you with a silent ‘I can’t deal with this face.’
The silence that follows feels like an eternity, but it really only elapses the half second before her hand makes contact with Bakugou’s face.
The sound from the slap resounds in the small hallway. You stare wide-eyed at the growing red spot with matching nail marks on Bakugou’s face.
“You should fucking care. We’ve been together for, like, a month already, and you still won’t stand up for me?! I’m done, don’t call me,” she seethes before pointing at you. “And you, you better hope we never see each other again.”
After that, Mika storms off in a fit of rage and disappears into the crowd.
“Dating on and off for a month, and she pulls that. Psychotic bitch,” he mutters before turning to you. “Hey, Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming, you should’ve told me.”
“I’m so sorry, for all of that. I’ll just get going and pretend I never saw that.” You turn on your heel to dash out, but a hand grips your shoulder and turns you around.
“No need to apologize, she gets crazy when she’s drunk, and I was planning on breaking up with her,” he shrugs. “Anyway, I’m just gonna head upstairs and shower this stuff off. You can come up too, if you want, Y/N.”
You raise a brow at his suggestion. “You want me to come shower with you?”
A look of confusion and surprise crosses his sharp features before a smirk breaks out. “There are multiple bathrooms up there, but you know, if they’re all taken, you can always join me.” He sends you the stupidest wink that still sends your stomach into frenzy.
“You bounce back too quickly,” you groan. “Whatever, I’m coming up, but not with you.”
Bakugou reverts to his uncaring self and has you follow him. You follow Bakugou, slowly making your way up the rickety house stairs. When you make it around the corner, Bakugou points you in the direction of an ensuite washroom, and disappears into the room across from you. “Just take a folded towel, and I’ll deal with it. If you need anything, just come and get me.”
In the quiet of the bedroom, you lock the door and undress. You make your way into the connected bathroom and strip down in the low light. The shower has terrible pressure and doesn’t heat up, but it does the job of cleansing the sticky punch off your skin.
You finish your shower within five minutes and step out to grab a towel. It’s surprisingly clean, but the pile of your clothes on the counter are still dripping with liquid. That means you’ll either have to walk around in a towel for the rest of the night or muster up the courage to ask Bakugou for some clothes.
You opt for the second option, seeing as you won’t have to walk through a drunken frat house in a towel that barely covers your “good bits.” So, you head back to the door where Bakugou was, rolling your clothes into a ball and tucking them under your arm. When you get there, the door is still closed, as you expected, but there is no sound of running water coming from the room.
“Bakugou, sorry, I need some extra clothes,” you say after knocking on the door.
As if it isn’t embarrassing enough, Bakugou takes his sweet time getting to the door. When it finally opens, he stares at you, his eyes unashamedly trailing up and down your body. He, similarly to you, looks to have just gotten out of the shower. Water droplets fall from his hair and fall down his hardened chest, which he doesn’t bother to clothe. The only thing keeping his from being stark naked in front of you is the towel sitting low on his hips, low enough that you can see his v-line drifting below.
“Clothes?” he asks after an awkward pause, and you flush.
“Yeah, anything will do, I just need it to get home in them,” you reply.
“Alright, come in.” He beckons you with his hand to follow him.
The first thing you notice when you enter is that his room is far different from the other one. While the first bedroom, whose you can only assume is his frat brother’s, is standard for a male college student—clothes strewn everywhere, an only half-made bed, and suspicious posters. Bakugou’s room is the opposite, the bed made, shelves tidy, and everything in order.
Bakugou coughs and breaks you out of the spell you’re under. He’s holding out a crumpled plastic bag, with some grocery store logo on it. “Here, for your wet clothes.”
You quickly snatch the bag and stuff your clothes into it. As you struggle to fit them inside, the towel hugging your body slips from its hold and drops below your nipples. From your peripheral vision, Bakugou freezes ever so slightly, and you hear an awfully loud swallow.
As soon as you notice him, however, he averts his eyes and pretends he had been looking for clothes the whole time. The outfit he chooses for you isn’t half bad, a hoodie and drawstring sweatpants, but they look so big they could drown you.
You take the two garments from him, accidentally brushing fingers in the process. He pulls away from you and heads back towards his ensuite bathroom. “Don’t worry, I’ll be in here. I won’t peek. You can get changed in the bedroom.”
With that, he closes the door and cements a divide between the two of you. Quickly, you change into the clothes he gave you, having to roll up the cuffs on them multiple times. You look like a blob of fabric, but it’ll have to do. Hopefully Bakugou won’t notice that you’re not wearing your bra and panties.
Knocking on the bathroom door, you meet face to face with Bakugou one last time. He’s fully clothed now and gives you a smile.
“Looks like it fits,” he says sarcastically.
“For sure,” you joke, flattening out the garments awkwardly. “I’m planning on heading out now, by the way. I think I’ll just catch an Uber, I’m pretty sober now, and my friends will probably be here for a while longer.”
“Don’t take an Uber,” he replies suddenly.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he corrects himself. “I mean, it’s not safe to take one right now. Let me drive you, I didn't drink tonight.”
“No way!” you retort. “I couldn’t bother you with that. I’ll be fine, anyway.”
However, Bakugou, being his stubborn self, does not relent until you agree to let him drive you all the way back to your dorms, only a stupid 30 minutes away.
Normally, you wouldn’t risk going with someone in his frat, but you have enough trust in Bakugou to keep civil. So, after a moment of contemplation, you accept his offer and follow him to the adjacent parking lot. Multiple people stare as you walk past them, but you pay them no mind, seeing as you’re practically unrecognizable in your new outfit.
“Yo, Bakubro, good for you!” a redhead yells from the doorway as you leave, whooping in a supportive, you suppose, manner.
“Ah, shut up, don’t spread any rumours, Shittyhair.” Bakugou groans, but you don’t miss the way his ears turn pink.
You’ll have to forget about that, though, because the lights of a black Jeep Wrangler flash on, and Bakugou escorts you to the passenger seat.
“I didn’t know you were this much of a gentleman, Bakugou,” you giggle in an embarrassingly girly way.
“I’m always a gentleman.” He winks and walks around to his side of the vehicle, leaving you feeling hot in the face.
He swings into the passenger seat, and puts the car in motion. You can’t help but notice the way his arms grip the steering wheel, the veins from his strong hands trailing up his forearms in a way that makes you unconsciously bite your lip.
“Put the address into the GPS,” Bakugou interrupts, and you notice his eyes force themselves away from your lips.
You deny whatever you just saw and punch your address into the screen. The machine takes only a second to bring up the route home, which, at this late hour, will actually only take 15 minutes.
After pulling out of the lot, Bakugou heads down the street following the indicated yellow line. He drives smoothly and professionally, as you expected he would. He maneuvers the car with expertise, and you can’t help but think he’s showing off when he steers with an open palm and an arm on the back of your seat.
For most of the ride, you guys are silent. Other than the faint whirring of the air conditioner, the only sounds to be heard are made by you and Bakugou. His by his slow, peaceful breathing, and yours by the beating of your heart—something which betrays you by getting louder and faster with every minute.
Luckily for you, the drive is soon over and Bakugou’s car is parked right outside of your dorm building. For the most part, the lot is empty, and the lights from the windows are off. It makes sense, most people in your extremely small building are out partying at 9 o’clock on a Friday, and the homebodies you’d normally associate with are already in bed.
Your specific block seems to be completely dark, seeing as you left your friends behind at that party… Whoops. It’s no matter, however, you’ll just be the first one in your complex to get back.
You unclick the belt from your waist, moving up on the seat to grab your things off the floor.
“This is you, right?” Bakugou questions.
“Yep! Thank you so much for driving me. I’ll text you later so you can have your clothes back.” You smile at him and go to open the door, but he lightly pulls you back.
“Wait. Y/N, you can keep them, actually. ” He chuckles, but it has an awkward tone to it. “You look better in them than I do”
Wait, what?
You always thought Bakugou was just flirty by nature, which to some extent he is, but you could see it now. Whatever you two had going on was certainly out of the ordinary. From what you could tell, Bakugou wasn’t half as teasing towards Mika as he was to you.
Ever since that one project, he had always made it a priority to sit next to you in class. You had assumed he was there for your notes, not that you minded, but could it actually have been for another reason altogether?
“Well, I would bet you look pretty good in these too, not that you don’t always look good,” you giggle, testing out the waters.
Bakugou’s eyes widen in surprise and soften under the pale light of his car. You stare at him fondly, accidentally letting your eyes flicker to his lips.
“Y/N, I-“ he starts but can’t seem to find the right words.
“I know you just broke up—literally tonight, but, Bakugou, gosh, I really want to kiss you right now,” you speak for him.
Maybe that punch was more potent than you thought. Good thing Bakugou drove you all the way here…
Instead of replying, Bakugou places a tender hand on your cheek and pulls you in. Soft lips meet your own, and you smile. You move to his lap where the seat has suddenly been rolled back.
Ah, it’s his frat boy car seat trick.
Your kisses continue slowly, and you can tell Bakugou wants to deepen the kiss when his tongue brushes against your lips. Upon first contact, you freeze in place. Before this you’d only ever been with one guy, one that you hadn’t even gone far with. In the moment now, you can only hope and pray that he won’t notice your inexperience.
However, you completely forget whatever worry you had when Bakugou starts to go into your mouth. His large hands pull you flush against his body, grabbing at the flesh right above your ass.
When you finally pull back, Bakugou’s eyes are blown wide, and he looks lost to lust. The lips that had previously been on yours now have a cute pout, having puffed up from your kisses.
Bakugou’s lips move down and pepper chaste kisses along your jawline. Even with his light and seemingly innocent pecks, you’re still softly moaning under his hold.
Bakugou switches focus to your neck, licking and sucking a hickey into your skin. After nipping at you for a while, Bakugou lifts off of you, and you can tell with his smirk that he left a massive bruise blooming on your skin.
“Bakugou, let me touch you,” you whisper as he moves to kiss the other side of your neck.
“Call me Katsuki… Please. “ He groans when you slightly grind against his groin.
You shift down on your hips and look down to see a thick boner growing in his pants. Curiously, you press it softly with your fingers and give it a light squeeze.
Katsuki looks down at you, his face quickly turning red. Silently, you reach into his pants, looking at his gorgeous ruby eyes for any sign of contestment. Katsuki stays quiet but gives you a small nod in approval.
Finally, you get to the moment you’ve been waiting for. You press your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, sliding your hand across the top of his cock. Then, with one movement, you free him from his confines, and his dick stands proudly in front of you.
Any expectations or preconceived notions about what Katsuki was packing were shattered. Painfully hard and dripping tiny amounts of precum, his cock is a beauty. The dark pink tip invites you in, begging you to give it one moment of reprieve.
When you nervously stroke the shaft, Katsuki’s reaction is instantaneous, his hips lurching up against yours.
“Fuck, keep going,” he hisses, his breath already laboured.
With more confidence you wrap your fingers around him and give his cock a few quick pumps. Your sudden change in tempo makes Bakugou’s cock twitch in your hold and release a bead of white precum. You remove your hand, and Katsuki’s eyes meet yours with a pleading look.
Carefully, you push your thumb against the slit of his dick and lubricate him with his own pre-cum. As you swirl the substance around the head, Katsuki buries his face in your shoulder.
“Oh my God, I’m about to cum,” he gasps. “Fuck, it’s like I’m a virgin again.”
Bakugou’s chest heaves as you work him to his high. With every light touch or squeeze of his dick you make, it twitches and throbs in reply. You decide to help him finish, doing the same fast strokes that make him groan lewdly in your ear.
Then, all of a sudden, Bakugou reaches out and stops your hand in the middle of its movements. You eye him, confused. “You into edging or something?”
“Not quite, I wanna get you off, too.” He surprisingly lets out a hearty laugh.
“Sit up, baby,.” You follow his instructions and he picks you up with ease.
Katsuki flips you over so you’re no longer sitting on top of him, rather lying caged underneath him. His body is so close to yours that you can’t look down to see what’s happening when you feel his hands moving against your clothed pussy.
“May I?” he asks, tugging at the edge of your panties.
“Still such a gentleman,” you giggle embarrassingly.
“Breaking the frat boy stereotypes as we go, I suppose.” He laughs with you, before turning his attention back to your body.
His adept fingers pull your soaked panties to the side, revealing your equally glistening cunt. Katsuki nimbly dips his fingers in your wetness with a soft hum.
“So wet, baby,” he grins, and you blush in embarrassment.
Bakugou skillfully captures your attention by pressing the pad of his thumb against your aching sex, as if to test the waters. When he hears your soft moan in response, he takes it as an invitation to keep going.
Slowly, Katsuki’s thumb plays with your throbbing clit, brushing it in teasing circles. A whine escapes your mouth, and he chuckles upon hearing it, knowing how needy you feel. “You want my fingers inside of you?”
You gasp out a ‘yes,’ and his fingers are immediately prodding at your entrance. Then, you feel the stretch your hole makes to accommodate his intruding finger. Although you’re not used to such a feeling, you easily adapt to the length of his digit, which pleasantly curls into your depths.
Bakugou starts fingering in and out of you, and the pleasure increases. Previously soft moans and whines turn into cries against his shoulder. Despite your embarrassment of being oversensitive, the flush on Bakugou’s face proves he’s just as affected, without you even touching him.
As Katsuki continues to slip inside your wetness, you feel the pressure building in your stomach, much differently than it ever has before. One more finger squeezes into your tight cunt and presses against your pleasure spot. You cry out, and his hands continue to brush against that sensitive place.
“Fuck, that feels good, please don’t stop,” you babble mindlessly, barely even registering Bakugou’s reply of, “Course not. Wouldn’t dream of it.’
To your blissed out surprise, the pleasure gets stronger. The sensation on your clit returns, and your body uncontrollably arches into Bakugou’s above you. With every calculated movement against your bundle of nerves, you’re worked closer to orgasm.
Then, all of a sudden, the angle of the thrusting fingers changes. Bakugou changes his position to be closer to you, somehow managing to reach further than before. With every new touch to your g-spot and clit, you feel yourself being pushed to your high.
In turn, you grasp a hold of Katsuki’s twitching cock. His hiss in reply shows you just how sensitive he is from before. Your hand moves up and down, matching the quick strokes of his fingers. Just as quickly as he had gotten you to the peak of your orgasm, his body convulses, signaling his is soon to come, as well.
Your moans crescendo and bounce off the walls of the car, and Bakugou can't help but be spurred on by them. The speed of his hand gets faster, still very much calculated in its movements, your hole fluttering around his digits.
After swiping your thumb across his leaking tip, Bakugou’s body seems even more sensitive, if it’s even possible. His cock violently throbs in your hand, begging to spill its seed. You oblige its wishes and continue your pumps up and down his hard length.
You can feel yourself almost cumming, on the brink of losing your mind. Similarly, Katsuki’s body, his higher-pitched moans, twitching shaft, and milky tip, tell you he’s extremely close.
Then, taking you by surprise, Bakugou cuts off your moans with a hot kiss. Immediately after you make contact, his tongue sweeps against yours in a passionate dance.
“I’m gonna cum!” Your voice gets muffled by the tongue pressing against your own.
The addition his mouth was to your pleasure plunges you right into orgasm. Your body convulses, pussy tightening uncontrollably, and you wail into his mouth. Anything you had ever expected of sex is automatically blown to bits when this atomic force hits you.
You feel your eyesight black out, as if you’ve been hit by a truck. You subconsciously grip harder around Katsuki’s dick, causing his orgasm to come shooting out of him. Long strings of his pearly cum cover the palm of your hand, his cock still moving to let out the last bits of his seed.
The bliss that follows is calming. Bakugou finally pulls out of you, his face coming off of yours to reveal his dazed eyes and flushed cheeks.
You doubt you look appealing, but Bakugou looks at you sweetly and more kindly than you can assume he does with anyone else.
“You did so well, baby,” he whispers to you after leaning down to your level.
You give him a quick peck on the cheek and slowly untangle your limbs from his. Bakugou helps you up and grabs your (borrowed) clothes that had previously been strewn across the other seats.
After dressing yourself and saying a quick goodbye to Bakugou, you slip out of his car and head back into your dorms.
You smile to yourself as you lay in bed alone. On your bedside table you notice you’ve received a new notification, a message from an unknown number. What you see makes you smile and blush.
‘That was such a great night, let’s do it again sometime. - Bakugou’
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a/n: hi guys. i’m back for the holidays and i hope to put out part two soon (let’s be honest, i never write things on time). i tried writing something more plot heavy… hope you enjoyed🫶 also, sorry for the edging joke. i think i’m funny.
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mostmagical · 3 months
Text
was in desperate need of some serotonin today, so here's some quick post-reveal bed-sharing
Words: 1K+ Summary:
Marinette wakes up to a bump in the night. It’s her boyfriend (and not in the way you’d think).
Thump.
The sound tore Marinette from her sleep. She shot straight up in bed, frantically scanning the area for danger. With a start, she realized she wasn’t in her room. Memories were returning slowly as she recalled deciding with Adrien to spend the night at his for once, both too tired after the long day to trek the extra few blocks to hers.
She gasped— Adrien. Her hand patted down the area to her immediate left, seeking his warmth where she was used to finding it. A steady rhythm from her heart beat against her rib cage as she turned to see his side of the bed empty.
“Oof,” a soft sigh breathed from the floor.
Marinette was leaning over the edge in a flash, finding her boyfriend rubbing his eyes as he slowly sat up.
“Adrien!” she gasped. “What happened? What are you doing?”
His eyes flickered to hers, bright even in the dark, and he chuckled. “I think” —his hand moved to massage his side, low by his hip— “it was a well-timed kick to my side.”
Her heart dropped in her chest. “What?”
He laughed again, pulling himself back onto the bed and taking her into his arms. “What kind of dream were you having, Buginette?” he asked. “Must have been pretty intense.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” she said, pushing against his chest so she could continue looking into his face. Mirth danced through his green eyes. “Are you implying that I kicked you out of the bed?” she asked disbelievingly. “Why are you so calm about it?”
“Oh. It’s not the first time.”
“What?”
Adrien shrugged. “Well, usually, when we’re at your place, I just kinda end up pushed against the wall? The loft has that nice built-in baby gate, lucky for me. This is the first time I’ve actually fallen out.”
Her jaw dropped open. This was mortifying information to receive in the middle of the night. “Adrien,” she said sternly, taking his shoulders in her hands and staring intensely into his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me I kick you every night?”
“It’s not every night,” he replied dismissively. She gave him a look. “Okay, it is most nights, but still! Not every night!”
“I don’t care how often it is!” She shook his shoulders, his body pliantly rocking back and forth with her movements. “Why wouldn’t you tell me so I can stop? I must be ruining your sleep!”
“I don’t mind.” He smiled, the picture of innocence. “I think it’s cute.”
Marinette wanted to growl, but she knew it wouldn’t be nearly as intimidating as she wanted it to with the red she could feel all over her face. She groaned, dragging her hands down her cheeks until the skin stretched. “What’s wrong with you?”
Again, Adrien gathered her in his arms, this time with Marinette accepting the embrace. She curled up against his chest as she felt him press a delicate kiss to the crown of her head. “It’s an honor to be your punching bag,” he joked.
“Adrien,” she groaned, thunking her head against his shoulder, “shut up.”
“Sorry.”
“Wait, no, that makes me feel worse,” she hastened to say. “I need to apologize to you! I’m sorry.”
He chuckled again, his warm breath tickling her forehead as it passed through her hair. “Like I said, I really, really don’t mind.”
“Why don’t you mind?” She pouted, tilting her head up to look at him. “Doesn’t it wake you up?”
“Sometimes, yeah, but–” He sighed as he seemed to look for the right words. His mouth tilted in a half-smile. “I like knowing you’re still there with me.”
All the embarrassment drained out of her as she noticed his tone change. “Do you think I would go somewhere?”
“Technically, no,” he answered honestly, “but sometimes… in the back of my mind…”
She frowned. “You get anxious.”
He took in a breath. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Marinette wrapped her arms around his midsection, pressing her face into his worn cotton t-shirt. He smelled of citrus and the fresh linen scent of her Maman’s favorite laundry detergent, making her smile. He smelled of home.
“I’d never leave you, Adrien,” she murmured.
“I know.”
“Especially not in the middle of the night.”
He laughed. “I know.” His arms tightened around her as he laid their bodies back down against the pillows. “We’re a package deal. A bonded pair.”
“Exactly,” she huffed. Leaning up on one arm, she poked him in the chest. “But you really should have told me I was kicking you in my sleep. I feel like a jerk.”
“A cute jerk.”
“Stop calling it cute!”
He waggled his eyebrows as he grinned at her. “It’s not my fault that everything you do is cute.”
She growled frustratedly. She wanted to be angry, but instead she pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose. “You’re so annoying.”
“Annoying and cute?”
Rolling her eyes, she leaned back onto his chest. “Yes,” she huffed.
Adrien laughed again, the sound reverberating in her eardrum. She loved the quiet moments like this where she could hear everything— his laugh, his breaths, his heart beating in his chest. The arm wrapped around his middle tugged him closer, and in response he squeezed her tighter against him.
“Seriously,” she mumbled, “wake me up next time. I don’t want to kick you out of bed.”
“It’s really not a big deal,” he whispered back. She opened her mouth in protest, but he spoke again before she could, “Sometimes it’s just a little nudge. Like this:” His foot connected with her shin under the blankets, gently pushing against her with featherlight pressure.
“Oh.”
“See? Nothing.”
“But–”
“And the kicking,” he interrupted, knowing exactly what she was going to say, as always, “I don’t mind, because I can always tell when you’re having a dream. And I like knowing that.” His thumb was brushing over the exposed skin on her shoulder, lulling her back towards sleep.
Against the siren song, she shook her head. “Still, if you ever want to wake me up– even just to talk, I want you to wake me up,” she whispered.
“Now, I know that’s sleep-Marinette talking.”
She would have rolled her eyes if she thought he could see it. “Ha ha,” she said sarcastically. “I mean it. I’d gladly lose a couple hours’ sleep for you.” She turned her head to press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Especially knowing you would for me.”
“I would. Anytime.”
“I know.”
“Okay,” he mumbled into her hair, his lips brushing her scalp, “I’ll try not to let you attack me inexorably again.” She heard him breathe deeply, his chest expanding beneath her head.
“You’re lucky I’m so tired right now, kitty cat,” she mumbled, her eyes sliding shut.
“Yeah, I really am. I love you."
"Love you too..." she managed before sleep pulled her back in, warm in Adrien’s arms.
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tbko111 · 2 months
Text
Covet
⊱ contents: yuta x fem reader, post-relationship, smut, dubcon elements, yandere, jealousy, fingering, classroom sex, possessive behavior ⊱ wc: 1.5k ⊱ synopsis: Your boyfriend Yuta is perfect; lenient and secure. He trusts you more than anything. So why do his palms get sweaty when you talk to your friend Yuji?
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"Hahaha! That's so dumb." You nudge Itadori with a giggle, him laughing back. He had stopped you for homework, which had now escalated to unrelated chatter.
Yuta smiles along, patiently waiting for the conversation to cease.
Eventually you wave Itadori goodbye, continuing your walk through the school hallways.
“I didn’t know you two were so close.”
“Yuji? Yeah, I guess we started getting along.”
Your boyfriend scans you up and down, in a way that betrays the nicety of his smile.
This was only the beginning of Yuta’s water torture. Every other day he’d see you talking up your newly established friend, and each time it came close to dismantling his well-mannered front.
With every playful gesture the two of you exchanged, it became hard for him not to stare possessive holes into you. Like he could capture you if he’d stared hard enough.
He was better than this; he was a good boyfriend. No, you’d even promote it to perfect. He knew this, and knew the bearer of such title wouldn’t throw a jealous fit. So on went his unbothered charade, suffering in silence.
The more he internalized it, the more it nagged him. Like a bad song stuck in his head. Why were you laughing with him, and not your own boyfriend with as much ease?
Yuta would be lying if he said he wasn’t starting to get frustrated with Yuji at least a little from his density. He was always too friendly; something Yuta viewed as good up until now.
It was now that when you’d offer him small pecks, he’d pull you in for just a moment longer with a sinister longing welling up in his deep blue eyes, confining your reflection.
Even after a few months his secret wishes went in vain, evident in the way that just today, you had agreed to hang out with Itadori outside of school.
Truly you thought nothing of it, but Yuta was having an anxious fit. His jaw even hung open for a moment at the news before quickly composing himself.
Even if he trusted both of you, even if it was in a public scene – It was eating him alive.
They say people tend to fill in blanks with pleasant imagery, but the opposite was true for Yuta.
His love for you was ugly; it whispered paranoia into his ears. The groundless prospect of you sharing flirtatious looks with another guy clouded his better judgment.
Looks soon turning to touches, touches escalating to kisses, kisses leading to…
He stops there. Lest losing the remnants of his sanity.
It was after school around 5, the two of you having fallen victim to cleaning duty.
“Can you follow me?”
His shift in mood was quite noticeable ever since you dropped the bomb on him, and that long silence was interrupted by his abrupt request.
You tilt your head inquisitively, but comply. The delicate hold he takes on your hand fails to foreshadow what’s to take place.
He leads you to your empty classroom. The dusk sky had dimmed all too soon, painting the scene with a mellow orange hue.
You sit half-perched on a nearby desk, resting your palms on the edge.
“What is it?”
“Are you doing this on purpose?”
Yuta looks sad, like a dog, aching for a morsel of your undivided attention.
You answer his question with a quizzical look, blinking in ignorance – only until the pure, searing jealousy in his eyes burns through any confusion you may have had a second prior.
The realization kicks in, in the form of a quiet “oh”.
Of course. You wince, doing a mental facepalm.
Soon, his shadow envelops you snugly, making you shrink back and slide up the desk to sit fully.
Your feet swing above the ground, leaving you at his mercy. Nowhere to run. Furthered by how you were now caged within his arms, warm hands dearly holding yours.
You feel his breath against your mouth, eagerly closing distance until he kisses you as if running out of time, his grip grows more firm. Clumsy, even. You gasp as a tongue is shoved into you, fevered to explore every inch.
The kiss lasts nothing short of an eternity until he pulls away, desire only inflamed rather than satisfied.
You whisper out his name, slightly overwhelmed.
Yuta breathes softly onto your neck, bordering on animalistic.
"If you were trying to get a rise out of me, it worked."
You whine, trying to push him away weakly but failing miserably. 
“I wasn’t.” you stammer.
But seemingly nothing you say will salvage the situation now.
"I don’t want you to go."
It was a soft plea, but the demanding undertone sent shivers up your body. Such selfish requests were a novel concept coming from Yuta, but the delivery alone helps you realize they were underlying all along.
And now, that it consumed him.
He slides his left hand onto your shoulder to keep you still, the other inching inwards your thighs. Instinctively you wriggle away, but only end up falling flat on the desk assistingly.
“Wait… we’re still in school.” he holds back a laugh at how your flushed face was forsaking your prim act.
Yuta looms over you with little to no composure, hooking over your leg with his arm, holding your thigh. What was to come was unavoidable now, your heart racing miles per minute.
You squirm as he bunches your skirt up and his fingers graze over your clit, slowly pressing against the fabric like playing you for reactions.
And correspondingly, you flinch and let out a small noise. He rubs circles around you, grinning to himself at how quickly he got you soaked.
He keeps up until you whine – in his head a plea for more, which he’s more than eager to satisfy.
Wasting no time, he reaches into your panties, teasing you more before the roughness of his calloused hand invades your velvet walls, making you tighten them shut.
"Relax..." He chuckles shyly, failing to hide the damn near perverted pensiveness he wore.
It inches in slowly. Your insides felt so hot and inviting, and your thrilled face was driving him crazy - his love for you heightening to almost destructive. His breath gets caught in his throat in delirium.
His pretty fingers dip in and out leisurely, the cold of his ring making you twitch with each deep thrust. 
They quicken before he knows it. Oblivious to you, his patience had worn thin long ago.
"Ah, mngh... Yuta, slow down-"
To think the careful hands that would never overstep small loving touches, could fuck you like this, was baffling to say the least. Especially since his upward curl on your sweet spot was making it hard to think at all.
"Feel good?"
"I... I dunno,"  Yes, God, it felt amazing but you couldn't tell him that - unless to die of embarrassment.
But he knew nonetheless. It was impossible not to with the way your mouth hung open, eyes struggling to do the same. But he wanted to coax it out of you himself.
Yuta gives your head a small kiss - like a feigned apology for how he soon presses you down, one knee now touching your chest, welcoming his digits deeper against your will. Startled, you gasp for air both from the sensation and the compromising position.
He maneuvers his fingers like he has your body all figured out, curving to a spot you never knew you could hit with fingers alone. The uncouth feeling makes whatever dignity you clung onto get knocked out in bliss.
His pretty black locks hang over you as he smoothly leans down more, both worsening the feeling and making his voice vibrate quietly in your ears.
"How about now?"
"Mn, uh, yes..." It spews out of you, as if your body spoke for itself disregarding any rationale. The way you were in shambles from his hand alone made him sigh in anticipation. Just how you'd look when he stuffs you with something more…
“Will you stop talking to him?”
You can barely grasp what he’s talking about, and just nod automatically. He looks contented, kissing you as a prize.
For a moment his movements slow from your stiffness, but he subdues it easily. The pace unrelents, and humiliation doesn’t begin to describe what you feel in being so powerless over a few fingers. The overwhelming weakness of your limbs almost has you convinced that he must have sedated you.
You cling onto his white uniform with noises slightly resemblant of words, and he gets the hint. He laps his tongue against yours, continuing to toy with you.
Soon a firework erupts in your brain, blurring your surroundings, even your thoughts. Your shameless, muffled noises spew into his mouth.
You shiver as it slowly dies down, leaving you twitching and gasping.
Yuta pulls back to look at you pleased, and you reciprocate – only more dazed.
His fingers pull out steadily, as if sad to be parting with you.
He licks them clean, then meets you with a warm smile. Such a filthy act done so casually.
Through hazy vision you can’t help but see yourself in his dim eyes again, staring back like she’s trapped in his pupils forever.
“Let’s go back to my dorm.”
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♡ ao3
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yanderestarangel · 4 months
Text
HEADKANONS MK1 | "𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐎 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋" - 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 + 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐊 
TW: afab anatomy, v!sex, blowjob, handjob, anal sex, aggressive sex, himbo/bimbo reader, praise, degradation, ftm reader, objectification, dumbification, rec!sex.
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JOHNNY CAGE, KENSHI, LIU KANG, SHANG TSUNG, RAIN.
He'll beg you to give him a handjob, with your new nails, which he bought himself. He loves to spoil you - he pays everything for you, like a man in need of attention and love who will do everything to make you as beautiful as possible just to fuck you and make him his own, showing you off like a damn luxury doll.
"-I love your small, soft hands on my dick baby boy." He would moan between cuts, while you smeared your hands with his cum, teasing him even more, massaging the fat, shiny head of his dick, he feels so squeamish when you deny him an orgasm - he even promises to buy you everything you want, just to feel your hands or beautiful mouth on his pulsing member.
"-Hmmph- I'll do it all baby- just be daddy's handsome himbo and make me cum- oh yes yes! Just like that, such a handsome boy- I'll buy whatever you want fuuck!-"
But when he takes control again, he destroys you, fucking you mercilessly over and over again, without any protection on his shaft - which was already totally dirty from him having cum once or twice inside your holes - you could feel his cum running down between your ass cheeks, and he would take the opportunity to fuck your second hole too, alternating his cock between your cunt and ass, forcing your legs to open and thrust into you with even more force than before, until you were overstimulated and crying, begging and babbling about him stopping... But he wouldn't.
"-I could never resist stuffing my perfect little toy."
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RAIDEN, BI HAN, HAVIK, REIKO, SHAO KHAN.
He would fuck you everywhere he could, lifting you into his strong arms, ripping off your wet panties, slapping your ass hard and lifting the thin fabric of the mini skirt you were wearing - just to tease him - he loves it when you play dirty with him, just to get him to fuck you until you're leaking with his cum through your pussy.
"-That's what you wanted, wasn't it, pretty boy? Just to be fucked by my dick and become even dumber?" He growled as he shoved his thick length into your cunt, making you arch your back and buck up even more for him.
"-This is how a little thing like you needs to be fucked, this is what you deserve for being such a tease..." His balls hit your clit, while your thighs trembled from the intensity of the violent jerk, he just wants to make sure that you be a fucking, crying mess when he's completely done with you - he'll also fuck you in front of any minimally mirrored surface, showing you how beautiful you look with his dick directly dipped in your pussy, you could see your makeup starting becoming blurred by the tears of pleasure that fell as his dick hit your core tirelessly.
"-Look at yourself my little whore, you're just a pretty boy with a cute pussy- oh fuck I really am lucky to have such a good slut like you." He held your hair tightly, as he once again emptied his hot seed into your wetness, making you tremble and moan his name uncontrollably. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your neck as his fingers traced lazy circles around your swollen clit.
"-I bet you're already wet again, let's just see how much you can cum today."
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TOMAS VRBADA, KUAI LIANG, SYZOTH, GERAS.
He loves looking at your pretty face, especially if you're on your knees worshiping his dick on your glossy lips, he loves the warm feeling of your tongue passing over his every sensitive beam, focusing only on the fat tears that flow from your eyes as he you struggled to get his entire length down your throat.
"-Come on boy doll, just be a good boy and swallow my dick..." He moaned hoarsely, holding your head with both hands, his balls hit your chin repeatedly, dirtying you both, you moaned needily against his dick, he knew how much you wanted to cum, how much you needed his cock inside you, but he wanted to first fuck you until you couldn’t scream anymore.
"-You take everything so well, taking me like a good boy." He slaps your face with his throbbing cock, wet with your saliva, watching you beg for more, beg to be fucked even harder by him.
"-You liked that, didn't you, baby? You love it when I take control... You're such a perfect prince for me, fuck I can't wait to see how tight you are after that blowjob." He grabbed you roughly, opening your thighs under the hardest surface he could see, your pussy was looking for contact, the shiny and sensitive flesh just from having sucked his dick made him lose complete control.
"-Beg me to fuck you like the pathetic bitch you are." He'll record every reaction you make with his dick inside you, showering you with dirty praise as you enjoy yourself on top of his dick, with your thighs shaking and your body slowly going out of control.
"-Look at the camera dear boy, me let me see your pretty face while you cum like a dirty slut-"
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©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023
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fxllfaiiry · 9 months
Text
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‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ୨୧  :  ꒰  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊  ꒱  ♡ ˚₊‧
⌗ synopsis : some nsfw and sfw miguel headcanons.
⌗ cw : both fluff and smut. swearing, use of yn like once, some angst, thigh riding, titty fucking, size kink, mentions of crying and pain kink, breeding kink.
⌗ notes : REPOST!! someone flagged this post and I worked really hard on writing this fic so it's annoying and it makes me upset, please don't flag it again, just scroll away. please, please reblog!!!
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✰ miguel o'hara makes you watch him work out because he knows how flustered you get when he's sweaty and shirtless. he'll also make you sit on his back while he's doing push-ups, exaggerating every move just to tease you.
✰ when he's not in his spiderman suit, he sometimes likes to wear the tightest shirts around you, he knows those shirts do his arms justice.
✰ the only person he's scared of is you. if you don't want him to do something, he won't do it. end of story.
✰ you occasionally like to tease him by randomly slapping his ass or saying things like:  
"how are your tits bigger than mine?"
"teach me your workout routine"
"damn, that ass looks good"
"you definitely have a big dick"
✰ you are the only person who can make miguel o'hara flustered.
✰ you love to kiss him every time he pouts, it's the cutest thing ever.
✰ when you guys are in public he shows little to no pda, but he smiles a lot more than usual.
✰ he may never admit it, but he loves cuddles :)) he loves to cage you in his arms and place kisses wherever he can reach. it's very soothing and helps him fall asleep.
✰ loves to watch you cook while hugging you from behind.
✰ playfully pretends to bite you every now and then, he looks all big and scary but he does have a soft side.
✰ remember the scene with lyla and miguel where she made him say please before calling for backup? yeah imagine that with you.
"yn, go call for backup now."
"excuse me? is this how you talk to your wife?" you huff glaring at him.
"I don't have time for this right now, just do it, okay?" he grumbles.
"not until you say it."   "no-"
"fine, no backup then." you start walking away from him ready to leave, until -
"okay, okay. baby, will you p-please call for backup?" he whispers.
"louderr"
"baby, will you please call for backup?"
"yeah I already did, but I enjoyed that"
✰ slowly learns to open up to you about his trauma, it takes some time but once he's ready you guys spend hours talking to each other.
✰ he can never stay mad at you for too long, most of the time he's the first to apologize.
✰ if you cry because of him he'll do anything to make it up to you. he'll make you your favorite meal to cheer you up and then later hold you tightly against him apologizing over and over again.  
✰ everyone teases him for being so soft around you, sometimes you join in as well.
"yeah, miggy, did I turn you into a giant soft teddy bear, hm?
"dear god, please shut up."
                  ୨୧ : ꒰ nsfw ahead  ꒱  ♡
✰ this man is the king of aftercare, cuddling with you and whispering how good you were. he'll even run you a bath afterward and shower you with affection.
✰ makes you get off on his thigh because he knows how much you love riding it, he loves how wet it gets with your arousal, making you clean it up afterwards.
✰ definitely is into fucking your tities, he has no control and starts to rut his hips like an animal. he admires how pretty your tits and face look afterwards covered in his cum.
✰ is addicted to eating you out, thrusting his tongue into your hole for hours and hours, he's addicted to your taste. miguel also conveniences you to ride his face and use him as you please, all he wants is to be suffocated between your thighs.
✰ he can usually smell when you're horny for him, if he's at work and this happens then it's an awkward situation, because he desperately wants to fucking rail you in the nearest empty room. oh, and he also has to hide his boner from everyone.
✰ uses his strength to hold you up against the wall and fuck you hard and fast.
✰ he knows how big he is and mocks you about how you won't be able to fit him in your tiny pussy.
"are you sure it'll fit, mami?"
"your pussy is so tiny, mama. I don't think you'll be able to take it"
✰ winds you up by rubbing his cock up and down your pussy without putting it in, he barely has any patience himself, seeing his cock glisten with your wetness makes him lose his mind.
✰ miguel will slap your cunt as a punishment until you're clenching around nothing and crying while begging him to fuck you.  
✰ leaves love bites everywhere as a reminder that you are his and his only.
✰ you'll wear his favorite shade of lipstick before sucking him off, leaving the lipstick's imprint on his dick.
✰ breeds you like an animal, fucking you raw for hours and filling you up in every position. nothing will leak out on his watch and if it does, then he'll shove it back in using his fingers. he will lick up everything from your overestimated cunt ignoring your soft whimpers of "papi, it hurts."
✰ ties you up with his webbing and uses you as his personal toy.
✰ loves to take you from behind, smacking your ass and leaving handprints, because he's mezmeriozed by the way it jiggles every time. while he's hitting it from behind he's so rough and messy, coating you with his seed all over your ass and back, filling you up to the brim, and making sure you don't walk the next day.
✰ talking back to him will only lead to him rubbing your clit and edging you till your clit is red and engorged to the point where the throbbing has become unbearable. he might take pity and finally fuck your weeping hole.
"finally learned your lesson, mama?"
✰ soft sex is also a yes!! he may be rough and all but he loves to dot on you, whispering praises into your ear while holding you oh so delicately against his body.
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kumori-suwan · 5 months
Text
Time and time again his broken heart was so used to seeing the other side of his bed empty. The sheets were always just as cold as winter in Gotham, so many women came and went and none stayed. Jason believed that he was destined to forever be alone, only finding warmth in flings here and there. He was used to the women being gone by sunrise, only finding notes that broke his heart over and over again but then there was you. The sweet bubbly girl he met at the club last night, honestly he’d only went to drink and relieve some stress. Never in his wildest dreams did Jason believe he’d find someone as special as you, you two practically danced the night away together and by the end of it you had taken him home. Your home was so different compared to his, it was warm and inviting, the walls littered with family photos and books you enjoyed reading.
It was that night that sealed the deal for him, Jason wanted you to be his without a shadow of a doubt. Time would pass and you’d learn more about him and he would learn about you. You accepted his rage and took each day step by step with him, he decided not to rush things. Jason was scared you’d leave him once you two finally had sex so he waited until he was confident in you, he was so happy to be yours, you warmed his bed waiting for him each night after patrol. Then it finally happened, after months of waiting patiently he finally shared a heated moonlight with you. He used your warm crevice to blow off his extra adrenaline and steam until you were both satisfied and sleepy with pleasure. He held you so gently, the polar opposite of the beast he was just moment before when he was pounding into your guts.
“I love you Jay.”, you whispered to his sleepy face.
He hummed those special words to you, happily accepting sleep in your warm embrace. Then it happened, he woke up the next morning to an empty bed. The sheets cool to the touch as if you had never existed in them, his mind is reeling, every negative thought is rushing through his mind.
“D-Did she just use me for sex? Was I not enough for her?”, he sobs quietly.
Jason’s ready to cry once again feeling his heart shatter until he catches the scent of breakfast cooking in the kitchen. He rushes out of the room, feet slamming heavily against the floor as he raced to the kitchen to see you in his shirt cooking breakfast.
“Mornin Jay! Are you hun-“, you’re stunned to see the huge bulky man in tears as he gazes at you so lovingly, “Jason…what’s the matter?”
You turn off the stove and rush to his side, stopping just in front of him and reach up your hands to cup his face. Jason sighs feeling your soft fingers gently brush away his tears and just stares at you, his heart is overwhelmed by your presence.
“I-I thought you left. I thought you walked out because we finally had sex.”, he confessed.
You just blink away the thoughts bubbling in your head, you didn’t quite understand but you wanted to comfort him. You tapped your finger against your lips signaling that you wanted a kiss from him. He smiled and nodded his head, leaning down to steal your lips in a sweet tender kiss.
“Jason I’d never leave you like that, I’m here for the long run as long as you’ll have me. I’m not going anywhere and I don’t want you to think I’m going anywhere. I love you.”, you admit, kissing his lips every few words or so.
He hums against your lips, finally content knowing that he’s found his one and only. His goofy little ball of sunshine who would always be there for him.
“Besides my legs are super weak right now! I could barely get out of bed because of you!”, you teased watching his face burn red from ear to ear.
He chuckles and snatches you up, tossing you over his shoulder. “Not weak enough if you made it to the kitchen.”, he smiled carrying you back to the room.
He tosses you back onto the bed and cages you under his weight, happily enjoying the sound of your bubbly laughter. You kiss him again pulling him close so he never feels lonely again.
“My Jason.”, you hum, kissing away his tears.
He nods at your possessiveness, “Yeah baby, all yours. Just give me a few more minutes of cuddles and then we can eat.”
You nod your head and hold him close, warming him with your touch. This was all he needed, this security and sense of belonging. Jason only needed you.
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