──── ㅤׂㅤㅤ‧‧ㅤㅤ TAKE CARE !ㅤㅤㅤ☆ㅤㅤㅤyou are having a bad day, qifrey makes it better . ˖ ݁𓂃. ݁₊
𝐜.𝐰 ᡴꪫ 𓂃 ꒰ mdni ꒱ . established relationship ⋮ afab reader with no gendered pronouns used ⋮ fingering ⋮ praise ⋮ mild dacryphilia . ˖ .
QIFREY HATES SEEING YOU UPSET, you have a hard time asking for what you want. that's alright, some things are simple like that.
qifrey seeks you out first. too much of a good thing. now you can't leave his lap, perched sideways across his thighs, one of his arms resting securely around your middle while his mouth presses at the corner of your downturn lips he'd kiss into something softer if you let him give you what you want, rather than what you need.
"do you want to try again?," the concentrated touches on the tender, hardened bud are enough to make you mind go haywire. he digs his palm against your clit with barely there friction—an involuntary whimper leaving your lips.
you squirm. talking is challenging because he's been at it for what feels like hours, it's depriving your brain of blood. too much of a good thing—he's so warm against you and he smells so good and there's just never been a moment in all the time you've known him when you didn't want him under your skin.
"it's just—i mean—it's nothin—," you make a soft noise of want as his fingers drag through your sticky folds. gathering your arousal on the tips of his fingers until he stops at your clit. you are throbbing so much it's painful, wet enough that it's pooling underneath his robes.
"you were saying?" he prompts sweetly, as if encouraging a trick. the hand that it's not between your thighs reaches up to turn your head, cupping your jaw as he forces you to look at him. barely an inch of space between you. "go on"
you gasp at the slow, smooth circles qifrey rubs at your clit with. he has a stunning amount of control over his movements, well practiced with every angle of your body. you have made him that way, but you never thought it would be so easily used against you.
his hand cupping the front of your throat, shame slanting your neck. you are so in love with him that you notice all of this, take a photo in your head, lock it up behind your ribs to study later. you can't make yourself out in the reflection of his eyes but his smile doesn't change. you know you look desperate, you can never hide how you feel from qifrey.
"m-maybe," you finally, finally, admit. voice clipped and hardly there, it comes out as a loud whine instead. "it w-wasn't a good day."
you're awake and ruined. you feel him pushing inside your tight hole. his hand is steady and slow as qifrey slows inch his first finger into you. they're cool compared to the tight, wet heat of your cunt. jolts of electricity spatter along your insides.
"finding your words now, i see," qifrey chuckles, breath warm as he drags his thumb along the thumping pulse of your heart. he is kind enough not to say anything about how loudly it thumps, how shaky you are breathing, "i knew you could do it."
he rewards you with his middle finger curling as it bottoms out, down to the knuckle as he pauses and let you get adjusted to the sensation. it doesn't last long, patience wearing thin.
"y-you're being mean," a frustrated whimper deep inside you, and you shouldn't feel bad for him helping you, but you do. he gets you all scrambled, turned upside down.
"am i? i thought i was being helpful," he hums a low, velvet chuckle, warm but laced with that sharp undertone that always makes you twitch. "why don't you tell me more?"
you open your mouth to speak but the pressure is too strong. another sensation follows you, then—just after you get used to the first. he gives you another finger, his ring finger this time—repeat the process. fucking you slow and deep, letting your hole stretch out around him and pumping inside until there's no longer and resistance at all.
"'m sorry i—i can't," your throat tightens and you shake your head weakly, but it only makes the tears well faster. seconds later, you, the sweet, tender little thing you are, burst into tears.
the hand at your throat comes to your face so two fingers can push past the seam of your lips, pressing against your tongue until you feel your jaw go slack at the overwhelming difference between pain and pleasure.
"yes, you can," he coos, his tone is down right patronizing, but god, you need it. it makes your cries stutter in your throat. "you're doing so well."
qifrey curls his fingers inside you, pressing and searching until he hits the right spot and you moan brokenly, silken walls clamping down and pulsing on his hand.
"uh, 'm just having a bad time," you are babbling around his fingers, choked and wanting, mouthing against his palm and hoping you'll be brave enough to draw blood just on principle. "a-and i, um— "
you fumble as a sob gets stuck in your throat. good thing qifrey is patient. you're almost there.
"yes, love?" he replies.
( it sounds like praise, it sounds condescending, it makes your stomach turn. you want him to call you love forever. you want to drown in it. )
you shake in his grasp as he secures his arm around you. the roundest part of his palm pushes up against your sex, clit throbbing as your head melts.
"a-and i need h-help!" you're boneless underneath his touch. your body and sensations reach heights far beyond and in true, utter desperation you call his name. you're not usually so spoiled but it's too much.
it wouldn't matter. wouldn't make it any less true. the tight space that qifrey has carved for you is yours no matter how suffocating. and it's yours.
"well done" it's not a question, but the inflection he gives it feels a little bit like there's no wiggle-room to just sink into his embrace, and forget about everything that should realistically matter. it digs a bit into you brain. "better, isn't it?"
you're receptive to his plunging fingers, hips bucking up against it, back arching, and he hums. he lets your mouth alone so a warm hand presses down on your navel to keep your steady. you let your guard down as you feel the coordination of rhythms, you yield to the moment when pain is not something your brain processes clearly.
"p-please," your brain feels like it'll pour out of your ears, the words barely forming to speak. you whimper at the touch of his cool hands on your hot skin.
qifrey doesn't stop what he's doing, especially now that you're silent. you melt into his arms as he fucks you, somehow both gentle and rough. his fingers are slow, calculated to hit against your sweet spot with every thrust. he's filling the silence with gentle coos, encouraging you as you wither away, gasping and panting and begging.
"you don't have to think. i'll do that for you." his smile softens, pressing a kiss at the top of your crown. it's a tender gesture that you can't help but whine. "and if all you can manage is crying, then crying will do."
you nod. a shame you barely registering what he's saying through your haze of pleasure. you allow him whatever he wants. your head feels full, drunk and floating until you come with a sound that's something between a sob and his name, and your vision speckles at the edges because is too much, it's all too much.
qifrey is good to you as you do. you can't see the hint of mischief in his eyes, but it's there as he pets down your chest, you waist and hips, but he doesn't retract his fingers that your thighs shake with overstimulation.
he's sure you'll be weeping for the rest of the night. but, you need this. he's sure you'll lay against his chest in the early hours of the morning and really tell him what happened today that got you so upset, but for now?
for now, you just to forget and he's happy to oblige.
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