brat-taming w/ Ushijima. 「short fic NSFW」
tw: brat-taming (obv), size difference (not rlly implied but u get what i meant he's massive), manhandling, brain-fucked, reader is an absolute brat, f!reader, mentions of bruises, his dick is massive, etc
there's quite bit of a challenge when you first started to be engaged with Ushijima Wakatoshi. Yes, THE Ushijima. Although those challenges are.. how do i say it? often times quite unpredictable.
it's like that one meme phrase, 'never let your enemy knows your next move' sorta.
from your perspective, Ushijima is a, punly said, a fucking greed god with japanese features and shit. His build is highkey the vital point here. You may not actually see it too often as he likes his clothes to be more comfortable rather than intended for fashion.
but even then, at some point—his muscles would started to imprint onto his clothes. Any souls that misses one or two moment of those would never realized that Ushijima has an absolute sleeper build.
i mean.. god, who even knows he hold that much under all those sweaters? it's like his body was chiseled by DC artist or something.
you yourself never really expected it to be.. that huge. I mean of course—you get what i mean. He's an absolute menacing tank even from afar. But in bed? it's so much worse, or better—according to your perspective that's on that.
and this is where the challenge started to happened. Although Ushijima often puts out a much more quiet, composed, and stoic exterior—you yourself seems to be the one that often riles him on edge.
in a nutshell: you're a brat. An absolute brat.
you went.. three hundred and sixty degrees from whatever he was saying. Whatever he had demanded and asked from you, you do it the exact opposite. And for what?
had he not treated you so well? i mean of course you get thrown here and there like a rag doll but, he thought that's what you always liked? (you were, but you're too petty to admit it) like he would have no problem to recall to you—of how much you had beg for him.
so now there you were. Pressed beneath his colossal chest. Getting the same consequences for, how much times—by having your womb french-kissed by his monster cock.
he'd leave your skin blooms with dark purple hues from just how strong his grip can be—even if he wasn't directly intending it to be that harsh. Or maybe he does, secretly.
those lips of yours, that often pout and mumbles of complaints, now had been lewdly open—droolin' and fooling around. Your irises are nowhere to be found, they've completely rolled off from the visible sclera.
you look absolutely dumb. Dumb-downed, more accurately phrased.
and as much as little information he gave you, not that he didn't care, Ushijima just knows you're too stupid to even acknowledge him anymore, it's all just his dick that filled the corners of your mind..
he actually loved it. Truly.
and you'd be sure as hell he would not expressed it. He rarely spoke in fucking unless he wants to. And shockingly so, that also applies to moans.
oftentimes he would grunt and huff, he may sniff the croak of your neck or fawned over your collarbones, but—thats it.
he would have no need to talk you down, because he knew his dick already did its part perfectly. And now? all he had to do now was to lay beside you, silently smirking to himself at how—despite all this efforts for you to rile him up, driving him on edge, you'd still be in his grasp eventually.
↺/ ♡ : appreciated! | © dolliestvirgin