tw: 18+, size kink, pet play, degradation, praise, dacryphilia, rough sex, mentions of breeding
you should have known better than to let toji take you home after the party. dressed in your little bunny costume, fluffy tail pinned to the curve of your ass and ears twitching every time he leaned in close, he had that look in his eye all night. sharp and hungry, like he already owned you.
he sits back on the couch now, broad shoulders relaxed, spreading his thighs so wide it makes your stomach flutter. his voice is deep and teasing, curling around you like smoke.
“c’mere, bunny. hop on over.”
your body obeys before your brain catches up, crawling across the floor on shaky hands and knees. you feel ridiculous, ears bouncing with every movement, but his smirk says he likes it that way. when you finally kneel between his legs, he grabs your chin, tilting your face up.
“look at you,” he murmurs, thumb pressing into your cheek. “all dressed up like a dumb little pet. you want your master to take care of you, huh?”
you nod too fast, desperate, and he chuckles low in his chest. the sound makes your thighs press together, heat pooling between them.
his hand tangles in your hair and he drags you closer, pushing your face against the hard outline straining his sweatpants. “kiss it.” the command is rough, no room for disobedience. you press your lips against him, trembling.
“good girl,” he praises, before suddenly yanking you up into his lap. the roughness makes you whimper, but he only grins, pulling your costume down until your breasts spill free. he palms them greedily, biting at your neck hard enough to make tears prick your eyes.
“mm, so soft… my little bunny’s built just for me.”
you can barely catch your breath before he is pushing your panties aside and sinking into you with one brutal thrust. you cry out, clinging to his shoulders, ears askew and fluffy tail brushing against his stomach with every movement.
“fuck, so tight,” he groans, snapping his hips up into you. “you’re cryin’ already? barely started, sweetheart.”
his words make you sob, but you cannot stop grinding down on him, chasing the drag of his cock deep inside you. every thrust forces a high-pitched whine out of you, your voice breaking.
he smacks your ass, the sting sharp and hot. “louder. let everyone know my bunny’s getting ruined.”
your body arches, ears slipping down as you moan helplessly. he drags you down hard, forcing every inch inside, until your belly feels full and stretched.
“that’s it,” he pants, lips curling into something cruel and possessive. “gonna stuff you full ‘til you’re bred like a real bunny. you’d like that, huh? being nothing but a dumb little thing for me to fuck and fill?”
you nod frantically, tears slipping down your cheeks, babbling out broken pleas for more.
his hand cups the back of your head, forcing you against his shoulder as he fucks up into you rougher, deeper, until your vision blurs and your thighs shake.
“mine,” he growls into your ear. “my bunny. my dumb, sweet pet. i’m gonna ruin you.”
bringing michael to the cookout (based on @prettyangeliczz’s post!)
the southern heat hit you the second you stepped off the plane, but it wasn't until you were pulling up the gravel driveway of your childhood home that your stomach really started to do flips. for the past two years, you’d been living a double life. in la, you were a corporate professional with a chic apartment and a solid routine. but you were also the girlfriend of the biggest star on the planet.
when you’d first told michael about your family’s annual juneteenth cookout, you hadn’t expected him to get so wide-eyed and excited. he’d never celebrated the holiday before, and the sheer genuine curiosity in his voice made it impossible not to invite him. but trying to warn your parents over the phone had been a disaster.
“girl, bring your lil boyfriend! nobody cares! you’re grown,” your mama had scoffed, completely brushing off your frantic hints. your daddy hadn't been any better, insisting that anyone was welcome at his table.
"i'm so sorry in advance," you murmured for the tenth time, turning in the passenger seat to look at michael. "my cousins have no boundaries, mikey. if uncle troy asks you for a loan, you tell him no."
michael just offered you that warm, soft smile, as he reached over to squeeze your hand. "it's okay, baby. i promise you i'll be fine."
taking a deep breath, you finally got out of the car. you led him through the front door, the screen door letting out that familiar creek. inside, the house smelled like vanilla and sweet tea. your grandma was parked in her usual spot in the living room, completely locked into her soap operas. she didn't even look up from the tv screen, just waved a hand vaguely in your direction saying her quick hi’s and hellos.
the real action was out back.
through the large windows, you could hear the muffled thumping of a bassline. your jaw nearly dropped when you realized the speakers were blasting "rock with you." out on the patio, your aunts and cousins were dancing, red solo cups in hand. michael’s eyes lit up, a soft chuckle vibrating in his chest at the sight.
bracing yourself, you pushed open the back door and stepped out onto the grass, still holding michael’s hand tightly.
"is that my baby?" your dad shouted over the music. he was standing by the massive black smoker grill, spatula in one hand, wearing a faded apron.
"hi daddy!" you called out, letting go of michael for just a second to wrap your arms around your dad's neck, breathing in the comforting scent of charcoal and hickory smoke.
as you pulled back, the rest of the family started wandering over, drinks in hand, ready to inspect the new boyfriend. "daddy, everyone... this is my boyfriend, michael," you said, stepping back to stand beside him.
"hi everybody, how's it going?" michael greeted, his voice soft and polite as he offered a gentle wave.
at first, the reaction was standard. your aunts swooped in for hugs, asking how the flight was, completely running on auto-pilot southern hospitality. aunt kaye didn't even look at his face, just patted his arm. "you look a little skinny, baby, make sure you get you something to eat before you leave here —"
she stopped. the gears started turning. the music seemed to fade into the background as silence dropped over the yard.
"wait!" your cousin marquise shouted, freezing mid-sip in his lawn chair by the edge of the pool. his eyes went completely wide, and he choked on his capri sun, coughing violently. "nigga is that michael jackson?" he said shaking your older brother awake.
every single head snapped back toward michael. a collective gasp echoed across the lawn. you let out an internal groan, burying your face slightly against michael's shoulder.
"no fuckin way," someone whispered.
"you're joking."
before anyone could even process it, your mama rushed past everyone, sprinting straight into the house. a minute later, she came flying back out the back door, clutching a vinyl copy of off the wall. she marched right up to michael, holding the album cover directly next to his actual face, her eyes wider than saucers.
she looked at the album. she looked at michael. she looked back at the album.
her mouth dropped completely open. she smacked a hand right onto your chest, glaring at you with pure shock. she shouted your full name, her voice booming over the yard. "and you didn't think to tell me?! i cleaned this house in a raggedy t-shirt and no wig, and you brought michael jackson into my house?!"
"i literally tried to!" you protested, throwing your hands up.
"you said he was in music! i thought you meant on the street or something!" she yelled, before immediately turning back to michael with a bright, overly sweet smile, completely changing her tone. "hello, michael, baby, welcome to our home."
michael couldn't contain his amusement. he threw his head back, laughing softly at the family dynamic, before naturally sliding his large hand around your waist, pulling you close to his side.
once the initial shock wore off, the southern hospitality kicked into overdrive. your mama completely took over, dragging michael toward the patio tables. she practically forced plate after plate onto him, insisting he try her homemade peach cobbler and the greens.
"now, michael, i know you're famous, but if you don't eat at least two plates, my feelings will be deeply hurt," she warned, loading up his plate with enough starch to feed a small village. michael, always polite, took small bites and practically melted, praising her cooking up to the heavens, which only made her beam with pride.
out on the grass, your little cousins—none of them more two apples tall—were practically vibrating with excitement. they kept tugging on michael’s shirt, begging him to show them how to moonwalk. despite his usual shyness, michael didn't mind one bit. he kicked off his loafers and spent a good half hour giggling, patiently breaking down the footsteps on the concrete patio while the kids stumbled around like newborn deer trying to copy him.
your dad eventually pulled michael over to the grill. while showing him the proper way to flip a slab of ribs, your dad launched into a massive, animated rant. "see, michael, the media won't tell you this, but the government puts chemicals in the tap water to keep us compliant. and don't get me started on the moon landing. you know about the industry, you see the truth."
michael just stood there holding a paper plate, nodding along with intense concentration, looking genuinely fascinated by your dad's wildest local conspiracy theories. you weren’t sure you’d ever seen michael eat a rib, like, ever…
across the yard, you were completely cornered. your aunts and younger cousins had bombarded you against the fence, whispering furiously.
"what is it like dating him?"
"how do you even handle that lifestyle?"
"is his hair soft? it looks soft."
you just looked across the yard, watching michael patiently listen to your dad while your little brother tried to high-five him. a soft, tender smile tugged at your lips. "when we're together, it's none of that flashy 'king of pop' mess," you told them softly. "he's just my michael."
by the time the sun went down, casting a deep orange and purple glow over the southern sky, it was time for michael to leave. you were staying for a few more days, but he had to get back to cali.
out by the driveway, the cicadas were buzzing loudly in the trees. bill was standing discreetly by the running car, waiting to take michael back to the airport. uncle troy was currently trying to pitch bill a pyramid scheme by the front fender.
"everyone loved you. thank you for coming, mikey," you said, wrapping your arms comfortably around his neck, looking up into his dark eyes.
"you don't have to thank me, baby. i had a wonderful time," he murmured, his hands finding your waist, drawing you into his space. a sweet smile broke across his face. "everyone's so funny."
"no, everyone's so embarrassing," you laughed, shaking your head.
"i love you, applehead. call me when you land," you whispered, leaning up on your tiptoes to press a warm kiss to his lips.
"bye, michael jackson!“ your little brother's voice suddenly shattered the quiet moment, echoing from the front window of the house. a split second later, you heard a muffled smack as your mama tapped the back of his head.
"boy, shut up!"
the two of you broke the kiss, turning your heads toward the house. sure enough, the entire family—including your grandma, who had finally abandoned her soaps—was bunched up against the living room window, their faces pressed so hard against the glass their noses were flattened, trying to spy on the goodbye.
the second they realized they'd been caught, there was a frantic scramble of shadows as they all tried to dive out of sight, someone knocking over a lamp in the process.
you couldn't help but giggle, hiding your face into michael's chest as his soft laughter rumbled against your cheek.
"give them my goodbyes, and thank your parents for me," michael murmured, leaning down to plant one last, lingering kiss on your lips before finally turning to get into the back of the car.
A/N: i honestly don’t know much about racing so bare wit me yall
⤷ "andddd here we are, at the race track with the two most famous race car drivers getting to compete against each other among the rest to win the tournament, on my left we have toji fushiguro and the one and only ryomen sukuna" you introduced both males as they both did a gesture towards the camera with a sweet smile.
"so, what are you boys predictions for today's race?" you held the mic in the middle. "well, i'm looking forward to winning of course and bringing home the trophy to my wife and kids who are watching" toji said as he smiled and waved towards the camera. "that's very sweet mr. fushiguro now, mr. ryomen what are your predictions?" you held the mic towards him, it being slightly lower since he was so tall along with toji. he bent down and spoked.
"you should already know what my predictions are" he smirked as he winked at you. you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him. toji shook his head as he brushed his jet black hair from his face. sukuna noticed your slight irritation and smiled a bit like he won. you asked them a few more questions before it was time for them to go and get ready to race.
you couldn't lie, sukuna looked good in uniform as he wiped his hair back with his hands and soon grabbed his helmet and placed on it onto his head before getting into his race car and settling in as his mechanics made his tires and car was ready to go. he then zoomed past you to make it towards the track and wait at the starting point of the race.
you stood there looking into your script for the day before your friend, kacie who is also a new reporter, came and stood next to you. "i saw the way he looked at you" she smiled. you sighed. "kacie, i seriously don't have time for this" you chuckled bitterly. "okay, but hear me out-" she took off her headset. "i think he actually likes you for real and you should hop on that before somebody else does" she shrugged.
“he's a whore" you deadpanned. "i want someone who is willing to be there for me when im having trouble with my mentality and simply be loyal, i know that's the bare minimum but that's all i ever wanted in a man kacie"
kacie stayed quiet for a moment before breaking it. "you know what, i can totally understand why you wouldn't want him" she nodded before grabbed onto your shoulder. "buttttt i think he actually changed his ways, i mean has he had any other scandals lately?" she questioned.
"no, but it wouldn't feel right to me especially since we're basically co workers...i don't wanna ruin my good job for a man who can't keep his dick in his pants" you sigh heavily before turning towards her. "i'm really grateful for your support with me and my discombobulated love life" you laughed as she laughed too. "okayyy, let's go monitor this race" she took her hand off your shoulder before leading the way.
"you two are awfully late" your co worker, sam said as he looked at you both. "we're not, the race hasn't even started yet sam" kacie rolled her eyes as you giggled. "what do you mean? the race is about to start in less than a minute" he stressed. "sam, did you not hear what you just said? it starts in less than a minute, meaning we have enough time to see them take off" you stated putting on your own headset and leaned towards the computer that has the camera view of the racers.
you can see the racers initials on the monitors screen as the little dots all came up beside it each other.(i don't exactly know how this stuff works so bear with me) as the anticipation and excitement for the race continues, as the audience is heard through out the arena. roaring and cheering can be heard as they all dressed in their favorite drivers colors, waving flags of their country's flag with face paint on as well.
"the racers are here so the show must go on, everybody let's get ready to rumbleeeeeeeeeee" the narrator declared as the crowd roared with excitement. just then the race had begun and you can see on the monitor that sukuna has already passed up three racers and was heading towards apex. many people cheered on for him as you watched in amusement. soon sukuna burnt out his tires and was making his way to the mechanics.
"come on, come on guys he's on his way" one of the team members said as they got alerted by the others. he came in, halting his car a bit too hard and the workers got to work. "how many minutes before they make it here?" he asked one of the workers.
"about a minute, why?" "saves me just enough time to get ahead and make it towards the next lap" he smirked as the workers were finally done with his car. and with that he revved his car's engine, speeding off onto the track completely passing two cars that were half a second ahead of him. he chuckled looking into his rear view mirror, seeing one of the cars trying to catch up to him.
"not on my watch" he quickly pressed down onto the turbo button to increase his speed. from his sudden speed the dirt on the road blew onto the other racers view making them swerve a bit.
"fucking asshole" toji mumbled, rolling his eyes. sukuna is now heading towards apex as he's cruising through the race. "gosh, he's so cool" you heard one of the reporters say as they kept their eyes on the tv screen above you all as it was showing the drivers. you couldn't lie, what he did was cool you just wish he wasn't so damn cocky all the time.
the race continued on for many laps and soon sukuna made it towards the finish line. he hurriedly got out of the car and jumped up in excitement as the other racers were groaning and mumbling from the lost. toji walked up to him and placed his hand onto his shoulder. "congrats ryomen, maybe you'll finally get the girl you've been fiending over " toji squeezed his shoulder before patting it and walking away.
sukuna halted his excitement as he skimmed his eyes over towards where you usually sat, smiling as he you saw you calmly sitting there with your head down as everyone else cheered. he smirked before walking over towards you. he sneaked behind you and placed his hands over your eyes. you jumped from the sudden touch. "guess who" he tried deepening his voice more.
"sukuna, i don't really have time for you" you pulled his hands away off of your face, getting up and turning towards him. "come on baby, why are you so angry with me? what did i do to deserve your harsh love, huh?" he stared into your eyes, grabbing one of you braids to fiddle with it between his fingers.
you continued staring him with a scowl before one of his many fan girls came up to him. "hey, ryomen wanna come by my place tonight? we're having a after party and we'll be happy if you're there" the dirty blonde asked as she pointed towards her friends as they giggled. sukuna looked at her and then back towards you. "uhhh, i would appreciate that but im kinda busy right now" he smoothly replied, dropping your hair as she stopped rubbing his arm, rolling her eyes before looking at you up and down with scoff before walking away.
you looked at him shocked. you didn't expect him to turn her down for you? "why'd you do that?" "what do you mean, pretty?" you rolled your eyes crossing your arms. "you know what i'm talking about, why didn't you accept her offer like you always do to groupies" you squinted your eyes at him. "heh, i'm a changed man y/n, i know what i want and i won't stop until i get it" he seriously expressed, staring deep into your eyes.
you nervously gulped from the sudden change in atmosphere and his body being so close you to the point that you can barely breathe.
"uhm, i-i'll see y-you later okay?" you hummed before walking away or attempting to because he quickly pulled you by the arm, turning you around as you was now pressed against his chest. you gasped, separating the yourself from him by placing your hands onto his chest. his hands held your waist as he took the initiative to lean in for a kiss, you mentally screamed as you forcefully pushed yourself away from him.
"n-no, no no no" you only said before quickly walking away from him. sukuna watched in complete sorrow before shaking his head and walking away as well. kacie seen the whole thing happening in a state of shock before mentally noting that she'll ask you about it later on.
you found yourself in your comfy home, crying as you sat in the bathtub. you never expected for him to just throw himself onto like that. how dare he? how dare he all of a sudden change his ways for you. maybe he just wants to get into your pants because he thinks he can easily break you. yeah, that's it, that's all he wanted. he wanted to get you alone so he can use you. you rolled your eyes, wiping your tears as your phone started to ring. you grabbed your towel, wiping your hands before reaching for your phone and answering the call without even looking at the caller ID.
"hey, what's up?" you weakly asked as you used your washcloth to clean yourself. "y/n? girl are you okay? i saw what happened with you and sukuna" you stopped your movement as you responded, "yes, i'm fine....just a little tired is all" you lied as you continued cleaning yourself, rubbing the soap on your legs.
"y/n, i know when you're lying it's okay, you can tell me that you aren't" she pleaded. you sighed softly, "kacie.....do you really think he likes me? i'm having second thoughts" you carefully asked.
“yes girl, i'm telling you that man wants you but like i said before it's totally fine if you don't want him" she hummed. you stayed silent for a while. "i...i don't know, im scared" you voiced. "i'm scared that i'll just be another booty call to him" you continued. "yeah, i understand how you feel.....well, i'll leave you alone about it but if you DO somehow wanna talk to him, i got you girl" she reassured.
"okay" you weakly smiled as you two continued to talk before you got out of the tub and heard the sound of your doorbell ringing. you froze in place as you were putting on your shirt and panties. "now, who could be at my door this time of night" you more likely asked yourself.
"maybe you should answer it" kacie voice echoed through the hallway as you walked down it and towards your front door. you looked through the peephole seeing a tall figure dressed in all black.
"i can't see their face" you commented. "open it" she told you shuffling around in her room. "no!, i don't know who this could be" you quietly yelled. "y/n? it's sukuna, i just wanna say that im sorry" you heard a deep rough voice call out from outside. your eyes widened in shock, "kacieeeee, it's himmmmm" you dragged out.
"WHAT?! girl open the damn door" she yelled. "okay, okay, i'll call you back" you hurriedly said as she said her last few words before hanging up. you took a deep breath before unlocking your door and opening it.
there he stood, in his all black nike tech tracksuit with the hood over his head. the black beanie he wore covered his hair ever so slightly, the pink strands showing themselves.
"what're you doing here? who gave me you my address?" you hastily asked. "i been asked kacie for it" he rubbed his chin. “uhm okay come in" you stepped aside to let him in.
he simply nodded and walked through the doorway. you closed and locked the door after before turning around seeing him already taking a seat on the couch with his shoes by the side of the couch. "yeah, you knew to take off them shoes" you mugged as he only lightly chuckled at you. "come m'ere" he lowly said.
his eyes were watching you like a hawk as you made your way to sit next to him. you sat a few inches away from him as he chuckled. "why are you so far? i want you closer" he lightly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer. your nerves were spazzing out of control at this point. he can feel your shaking making him grab your chin to make you look at him.
"why are you so scared, huh? i just wanted to come see you and apologize for what happened, mmk?" your eyes didn't meet his gaze just yet as you looked anywhere but into his beautiful crimson eyes.
they were so enticing and pleasing to look at. sukuna's grip on your chin had gotten tighter as he forcefully turned your head towards him. "look at me" you winced as you finally made eye contact with him.
"there she is, my beautiful angel" he smiled softly. "s-sukuna why are you doing this?" you trembled. "why? because i want you y/n, i don't care about that stupid contract.....you're all i ever wanted baby" by the look in his eyes you can tell he was sure about it.
his crimson irises twinkled with desperation. "b-but i don't wanna lose my job sukuna" you gulped feeling him use his other hand to rub circles on your thighs.
"you won't" "but what if i do, huh? you can't always be so sure about everything" you sighed standing up causing his hand to fall from your chin.
you paced around the living room as he watched you. "y/n" he simply expressed as he sat back onto the couch, his arms crossed behind his head. you continued pacing slightly scolding yourself for even letting him into your home and basically falling for em even more.
“y/n, can you calm down for a moment? you’re over exaggerating” he rolled his eyes. “what do you mean i’m over exaggerating? YOU think i’m just gonna say yes to your proposal? NO, I WONT, you can just go back to being a womanizer and leave me the fuck out of it!” at this point you were shaking with anger as you finally let out your frustration.
there was silence. sukuna looked you with as much sympathy he can muster up. soon, he sighed standing up with a grunt before walking over to your shuttering form.
he slowly lifted his hand and placed it onto your cheek causing you to jump back, pushing him back with your palms against his chest. "no, get away from me and leave right now" you choked out your cries as you pointed towards the door.
yet, he didn't move a muscle. he instead just chuckled at you as he shook his head before sitting back down. "you think i'm playing? i want you gone" you suddenly gained the balls to talk to him with more dominance.
"ouuu feisty, i like that" he smirked. "you're so insatiable" you rolled your eyes as you groaned. "and you love it" he got up from the couch and pulled you towards him, making you become mush in his chiseled chest.
you shook your head, inhaling his scent. "i can't stand you, you know that right?" your voice came out mumbled as you wrapped your arms around his waist. your face was still wet with tears but you couldn't care less anymore about that. "yeah, yeah i know" he replied.
you looked up into his eyes, your chin sitting prettily against his chest. his own eyes stared back at you with a slight glint of softness.
the silence was comfortable as it can get before he decided to break it by slowing lowering his head to kiss your lips. your eye closed at the feeling of his lips on yours. it was a soft passionate kiss. you turned your head to the side and deepened the kiss.
you felt him smirk against your lips as he picked you up and soon carried you towards what seemed to him to be your room. he kicked the door as you tightened your grip on his waist with your legs. he walked over to your bed and laid you down. he stared for a moment, gawking at your beauty.
you felt a bit shy under his intense gaze as you instinctively covered your face with your hands. he only chuckled before moving your hands. "why are you so shy?" he questioned placing a hand onto your cheek. you sheepishly smiled. “i don’t know i just-“ you paused for a second.
“i just can’t believe im letting the known “fuck boy” do things to me knowing i wouldn’t have allowed it” you chuckled. he hooked a finger under chin before slowly bending down to kiss your lips. he pulled back with a bite of your lip, watching it fall back into place.
“heh, looks like you’ve been wanting me along” he chuckled gesturing towards your soaked panties. you instinctively pulled the shirt down only for him to move them above your head as he kneeled down to come face to face with your cunt.
“damn, you’re leaking” keeping a tight grip on your wrist, he leaned in to lightly suckle against the fabric. your breath hitched as you slightly jolted from the sudden feeling of his lips grazing against your lips.
he made out with your panties as he placed his tongue flat against your cunt and took a long lick. you softly moaned squirming from the pleasure. “ngh~ stop playing sukuna and just eat my pussy already” you complained furrowing your eyebrows.
“huh? what do you want me to do? i couldn’t hear you” he let go of your wrist and pulled away to hook his fingers under your panties. “you know, what i said” rolling your eyes, softly bucking your hips towards him.
“oh? i can’t seem to remember, can you enlighten me….please?” he whispered whilst a smirk slowly forming on his face. “ugh you’re so annoying, i’m just gonna do it myself” you attempted to place a hand down to rub your cunt but he immediately pulled your panties down in a swift motion as your slick stuck to the fabric.
“finally” you sighed closing your eyes. he only chuckled before pulling you closer by your hips and gripped onto your thighs as he began tongue kissing your vigina. he sloppily made out with it as you gripped his hair. he groaned against your vigina tightly sucking your clit. you quivered and shook trying to run away from his mouth.
“unt unt, come back here” he mumbled tightening his grip on your thighs. you were pretty sure if he held it any tighter it would sure bruise. you moaned helplessly as he continued antagonizing your cunt. “kuna~ babyyyy im almost there~” you say feeling your stomach tighten.
“yeah? you wanna cum all on daddy’s tongue, don’t you baby?” he mumbled now giving your cunt kitty licks. occasionally softly thrusting his tongue in your hole. you whined tucking your bottom lip between your teeth from the sensation. “yessss, keep eating my pussy” moaned out sitting up on your elbows as you felt yourself release.
he held eye contact with you as he slurped up all of your body fluids. his eyes low and hazy as his mouth continued doing wonders to you. you sighed rubbing his head as you laid your head against your shoulder. “you’re killing me sukuna~ fuck~” your face scrunched up as he only hummed against your cunt before pulling away.
a long strip of saliva mixed with your juices connected you both until it finally snapped. his chin was covered in your juices as he licked his lips. the fluid dripped down his chin and landed onto his crotch that seemed to be protruding a bit with his cock standing up.
“i love this pussy” he spoked before standing up. you immediately looked up at him spreading your legs wider. “you do? come own it then” you boldly replied using your foot to softly rub his harden cock through his sweats. “fuck~” he threw his head back, “you’re gonna make me feral” he brought his head back down.
you giggled stopping your teasing before turning yourself around, arching your back as deep as you can. your arms stretched out in front of you as you looked over your shoulder towards him. “what are you waiting for?” you rocked your hips back and forth seductively, “come fuck me” you bit your lip.
sukuna breath got caught in his throat as he watched how your cunt spread with how far you arched your back. placing a hand over his bulge before gripping your hips with force as he slowly pushed his hips against your ass. you moaned dropping your head into the pillow. “fuck, i can’t wait anymore” he groaned letting go of your hips, pulling his sweats down along with his briefs as he pumped his thick cock.
you lifted your head and looked over your shoulder once again. you bit your lip watching as he gripped his cock in his hand as pre-cum oozed from the tip. “put it in kuna~” you pushed your ass back onto him. “kuna? i’m ngh~ kuna now?” he questioned stroking his cock. “yesss, please put it in” you whined. “goshhh, okay” he pulled your hips back onto him more as he slowly inserted his dick into your hole.
immediately, he threw his head back moaning. “you’re so fucking tight, i can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me” he groaned continuing to insert himself. your fingers gripped the sheets. his dick was becoming too much to handle at this point. “fuck kuna~ how big are you?” you questioned in strained voice. he deeply chuckle.
“baby……this is only half of it” you snapped your head back seeing that he was for sure not lying. you can see that he about three more inches left to put in. you physically groaned as tears began to form at your waterline. “please tell you aren’t putting all of it in” you whined. “y/n, it’s either go big or home” he smiled, rubbing your back to soothe your worries.
“shit…..okay, y/n you can do this” you quietly as you looked at it once more before mentally preparing yourself again as you placed your head down. “you never had something this big before?” he laughed. “NO! now i see why all those girls fell in love with you” you groaned. “heh, it’s all yours now baby” he said before pulling his hips back and slamming right into cunt. your breath got caught in your throat as you literally felt the wind get taken out of you.
“my goshhh~ slow d-down kuna~” you cried gripping your sheets squeezing your eyes shut. “sorry baby, not with the way this pussy gripping me” he groaned snapping his hips into you at a fast pace reaching forward to grip your neck with his tattooed hand. his other hand kept an iron grip on your hip as he held your neck. your body jolted with each movement.
the bed shook with his heavy brutal thrusts. you sat up on your elbows in a daze as you continued to take thrust after thrust from the male. you began to bounce your ass back onto him to meet his thrust. “hah~ you’re taking me so well” he whimpered feeling your cunt tighten around his dick.
“tell me you love this dick” he suddenly slowed down his pace as he curled his hand in your hair. “why’d you stop?” you whined. “tell me” he replied slowly thrusting as the sounds of your slick and his own bodily fluids made themselves known in the bedroom. “tell me, right now or i’ll stop” he demanded.
“fuck, i-i love your dick” you stupidly stuttered hoping he would take that response and keep fucking you. “yeah? show me how much you love it” he rebutted completely stopping his movement. “please~ kuna” you pleaded. “do it” he once again demanded pulling your hair with a harsh tug. you unintentionally moaned from the force.
you began to rock your hips back and forth onto him as he continued to hold your hair, watching the way your cunt sucked in his dick as it disappeared inch by inch. he moaned biting his lip.
“go ahead, keep fucking yourself” he groaned throwing his head back. “mmh~ i’m close princess~” he whimpered tugging your hair as he forced your head to lean back. your eyes fell onto the ceiling as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
“m-me t-too” you fastened your pace as your boobs bounced feeling yourself release all over his dick. he looked at the cock ring that formed. “shit, where do you want it?” he let go of your hair as you dropped your head onto the pillow, feeling him grip onto your hips again and fucked into you. beads of sweat began to form on both of your foreheads. his trickled down his face and rolled down to neck. “i want it inside…” you said in a unsure tone.
sukuna noticed and kept that noted in his mind as he felt his release coming. he hurriedly pulled out and came onto your back. the warm semen decorated your lower back like white paint on a canvas. your juices coated his dick as he tried catching his breath. your body went limp as you laid flat against the bed. your body shook as you tried catching your breath as well.
after a few minutes sukuna flipped you over and looked at your fucked out face. “you’re so pretty” he smiled. “really? i mean, i would i hope i still look good to you after you fucked me like a slut” you mumbled wincing as you sat all the up on the bed. “yeah, i’ll get some towels to clean you and then we can take a shower” he said before kissing you on the lips, pulling his sweats and briefs up and later leaving the room.
you sighed looking at your worn out pussy. “girl, you’ve been through a lot” you shook your head. sukuna soon came back a few minutes later, “sorry i took so long, i was trying to figure out the layout of your house and find the towels” he apologized. “you could’ve just asked me” you giggled.
“yeah, yeah” he placed the warm towel against your cunt and began gently wiping you off. after he was done, he grabbed you and carried you bridal towards your bathroom so you both can shower. you could’ve walked but you were sure that your legs weren’t usable right now after the very eventful night you just had with sukuna.
you planned to tell kacie all about this tomorrow as you both laid in your bed cuddling watching “good girls” on netflix.
pope cody who drops you at work and picks you up. he gets you there five minutes early. he's already in the parking lot before your shift ends. he's ready to hear all about your day. his fingers tap at the wheel, eager to see you.
pope cody who wakes up early to cook you breakfast. your plate has a protein, fiber, carb, and a green. he's always trying some new recipe. you'll come home and he's prepping to make pot roast. from scratch. playing butcher in your kitchen.
pope cody who loves seeing you interact with kids. his heart swells. he carefully watches you braid lena's hair, and send her off to school. he wants to make you the mother of his kids desperately. he fucks you with the head of his cock presses against you cervix. he cums inside of you every time.
pope cody who only allows you to touch him. he's able to talk to you without words. face alone can tell you all you need to know. his body clings to yours. he comes home to you after a job, head in your stomach. your hands find their way to his hair. he loves your touch. anyone else comes near him, he stiffens up.
pope cody who's your fucking guard dog. he makes sure you're on the inside of the sidewalk. he keeps one hand on your back at all times. he loves feeling protective over you. you're his girl.
pope cody spoils you at all times. he gets you bags, jewelry a plenty. he adorns you with everything you want and more.
I’m legit so tired of bitches complaining about black!reader. Tfym all black!reader does is party, smoke, and strip? So many fics of black!reader being a scholar, a bimbo, ex-wife, wifey, wifey to girlfriend, girlfriend to ex girlfriend, tutor, needing a tutor, a baker- i mean the list goes on AND THESE ARE ALL FICS THAT HAVE RECENTLY BEEN RELEASED! Mind you these types of fics have also been released on black!reader tumblr for YEARS! I’ve been on this account for a few years now and black!reader is never just some random ignorant, ass shaking bitch. Even when shaking ass, all of these girlies put in so much work to give her personality, a backstory, and emotions. Not only have I seen one black fic writer write a range of black!reader, I’ve seen MULTIPLE black writers on here write a range of black!reader. It’s not just a matter of you not finding the right account, it’s a matter of you just ignoring the damn fics and not looking for them. DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE FUCKING SINNERS FICS BECAUSE HAVE YOU SEEN WHAT BLACK WRITERS HAVE DONE FOR BLACK!READER WITH SMOKE AND STACK?! Yea stop playing these girlies like that aint put hella time, energy, and thought into these fucking works that they do FOR FREE! Even if they want to only write black!reader as “ghetto” and as someone who shakes ass THEY HAVE EVERY FUCKING RIGHT TO DO WHAT THEY FUCK THEY WANT! If you want something different WRITE IT YOUR FUCKING SELF! Everyone does this shit for FREE and for the damn love of the game. Black women can’t even create in peace without random bitches getting on their ass? Can Black women please just be left the fuck alone ESPECIALLY by their OWN FUCKING PEOPLE?! Damn yall pmo.
To every Black fic writer out there that’s creating for us to enjoy, please continue unapologetically. Please let black!reader shake ass, get degrees, get married, have kids, get divorced. I’ve seen too many black writers leave this platform and deal with constant harassment and negativity. I love you and all of us who are enjoying yout content loves you too!
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: he was probably not the best choice for your first time. (ao3)
ᴡᴄ: 7.0k
ᴀ/ɴ: you know i'm such a fool for youuuuuuuu! y'all, please bear with me. this is essentially a cross between a one-shot and a drabble (heavily the latter) but i kept overthinking how to format it without an actual ask. I'M GETTING BACK INTO THE SWING OF THINGS OKAY?! anyways, this entire idea deadass came from my airplane movie being casino royale, specifically that scene where daniel craig is comforting vesper in the shower (😛😛😛). the horniest part of my brain immediately activated like a sleeper agent and i've been mentally plotting this fic out ever since. this might be my freakiest writing yet actually i gagged myself multiple times.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!, good old-fashioned smut, heavy descriptions of blood and gore, murder and its subsequent arousals, established relationship, power imbalance, manipulation, extreme dubcon, reader having second thoughts, fingering, cunilingus, bloodplay, drool, scent kink, monsterfucking, biting, eye contact, body worship, dacryphilia, aftercare, praise kink but degrading actions (?), dom!remmick, obsessed!remmick, sub!reader, afab!reader (idt i ever put this in tags before omg mb yall), remmick is a CREEP, but also talks you through it, there's fluff somewhere in here, possibly rusty 🤧
“It just won’t come off.”
The words came out thin. Frayed. Barely louder than the hiss of the water hammering against marble.
You scrubbed harder.
The bathroom was enormous—vaulted ceilings, white-veined marble climbing every wall, gold fixtures gleaming through the thick steam like dull halos. A place meant for quiet luxury. For long baths and soft robes and someone pouring wine while you sank into warm water.
Now it smelled like copper.
Now it smelled like you.
Your hands shook as they moved over your skin again, nails dragging, scrubbing, scraping like you could peel it away if you just tried hard enough. The water was far too hot—scalding, really—but you barely felt it anymore. Your new skin drank the heat greedily, nerves lit up too sharply, too alive.
Everything was too alive now.
Every scent.
Every sound.
The drain gurgled below you and the noise alone made your stomach twist. You could hear the pipes in the walls. The hum of electricity in the sconces. The faint, distant whisper of traffic outside somewhere beyond the estate walls.
And beneath all of it—
The smell.
God.
It clung to you.
Metal and salt and something darker, richer. The thick, iron tang of spilled blood worked itself into your lungs until you thought you might choke on it.
You scrubbed harder.
Your reflection blurred in the fogged mirror across the room, a ghost of yourself—hair plastered to your temples, eyes too bright, lips trembling. Your knees were planted hard against the marble floor of the shower, the stone biting cold into your skin while the water burned down your back.
You couldn’t stop shaking from the memory.
An awful, awful thing.
His face kept appearing the moment you blinked.
Not Remmick’s.
The other one. The man from the street.
Kind eyes. Gullible eyes. The kind that softened when he smiled.
You saw it again.
The moment he realized something was wrong.
The confusion first.
Then the fear.
Then—
Your stomach twisted violently.
You clutched the edge of the shower bench, knuckles white.
“I didn’t—” Your voice broke. “I didn’t mean—”
But you had.
Your new teeth had known exactly what to do. Your body had known. Your hunger had known.
And above it all—
That voice.
Low. Smooth. Patient.
Go on now, darlin’.
You squeezed your eyes shut.
Remmick hadn’t touched him.
Hadn’t needed to.
He’d just stood behind you in the foyer, one hand resting warm against the back of your neck like a man steadying a nervous horse.
His mouth near your ear.
There ya go.
The memory made your stomach drop.
That’s it.
The praise had been soft.
Gentle.
Proud.
Show me what I made.
You gagged, the sound raw in your throat.
The water kept pouring down.
Still, the smell wouldn’t leave.
Still, the weight of it clung to your skin like something alive.
You were different now.
Changed.
It had only been days, but the world had already sharpened into something unbearable. Every scent was louder. Every heartbeat within range felt like a drum pressed to your ear.
You could still hear the man’s pulse sometimes, echoing faint in your head like an afterimage.
You curled in on yourself.
Then, the bathroom door opened.
The sound was so quiet, but it didn’t matter.
The room changed the second he stepped inside.
Remmick took over any space he walked into.
The air thickened with him in it, something warm and slow-moving through the steam. Even the light seemed to shift toward him.
Your head lifted slowly.
He stood in the doorway like he’d belonged there.
Dark slacks.
Suspenders hanging loose from his shoulders.
White shirt sleeves rolled just enough to show the strong line of his forearms.
His hair was still slicked back neat despite the late hour. A gold chain caught faint light at his throat.
And those eyes—
Blue at first glance.
Red glowing underneath if you looked too long.
Remmick’s gaze settled on you kneeling beneath the shower.
He didn’t speak right away.
Just watched.
Slowly, his head tilted.
“Well now,” he murmured at last.
That voice, again.
Low and syrup-thick.
It coated your brain like honey.
“Ya made yourself a mess.”
Shame hit you so hard your shoulders folded inward.
“I tried—” Your throat tightened. “It won’t—”
He stepped forward.
Shoes slow across marble.
Each step deliberate.
Agonizing.
Steam curled around him as he reached the edge of the shower.
You froze.
Remmick crouched down beside the glass partition, resting one forearm on the marble ledge like he had all the time in the world.
“Darlin’,” he said softly.
The word slid through you like oil.
“Look at me.”
You did.
You always did.
His gaze moved slowly over you—the trembling hands, the angry red skin, the faint streaks still clinging stubbornly along your wrists and collarbone.
And then he smiled.
Not cruel, not exactly.
Pleased.
That was the look that settled over his face. Quiet and satisfied, like a man admiring something he’d been patient enough to grow himself.
It made your stomach turn.
Remmick stepped fully into the shower.
The water soaked through him in seconds, white cotton clinging to his frame, turning translucent where it stretched across his shoulders, his chest, his abdomen. It should’ve looked ridiculous—leather on wet marble, clothes ruined—but somehow it didn’t.
It looked intentional.
Like everything he did.
Like this.
You shrank back on instinct, your spine brushing the slick tile behind you. “You don’t—have to—”
“Mm,” he hummed, cutting you off easy.
His hand found your jaw again.
Not rough.
Never rough at first.
Just heavy. Certain. Tilting your face toward him like you were something delicate he didn’t trust to hold yourself upright.
“Now why would I leave ya like this?” he murmured.
His thumb dragged slow along your cheek.
You flinched.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
A faint smile touched his mouth, softer than before, but no less knowing.
“That all too much for ya?” he asked, voice low, almost sympathetic. “World gettin’ loud?”
You swallowed.
Nodded before you could stop yourself.
Remmick’s eyes darkened—absent of concern. You knew this look all too well.
With interest.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I remember that part.”
His hand slid from your face to the back of your neck, fingers spreading wide, anchoring you there.
“Everythin’ feels sharper,” he went on, tone easy, conversational, like he was talking about the weather. “Smells stick. Sounds echo. Can’t outrun it, no matter how hard ya scrub.”
His gaze dropped—slowly—down your body.
To your hands.
Still trembling.
Still streaked.
“You’re fightin’ the wrong thing, darlin’.”
You shook your head, breath catching. “I can still feel it—”
“I know.”
The words came quick this time.
Firm, but not dismissive.
Confirming.
Which was so much worse.
Remmick stepped closer.
Too close.
The heat of him cut through the steam, a different kind of warmth entirely—denser, heavier, something that pressed in instead of wrapping around.
His hand slid down your arm again, slower now. His fingers followed the faint lines of your veins as he traced the map he’d memorized.
“You’re holdin’ onto it,” he murmured. “That’s why it won’t leave.”
His thumb pressed lightly into your wrist.
Right over your pulse.
It jumped beneath his touch.
He smiled.
“There it is,” he said softly.
It wasn’t triumph.
Recognition was the word you’d been searching for.
He’d been waiting for that exact note to surface in you. The crack where something human still tried to name what was happening, even as the rest of you leaned toward him.
He didn’t rush after that.
That was the worst part.
Remmick took his time the way a man admires something delicate before deciding exactly how to handle it. His hand stayed firm at the back of your neck, not forcing, just holding you in place as he leaned closer—slow enough that you could see every detail unfold.
His mouth parted.
And this time, there was no mistaking it.
The fangs weren’t subtle anymore. They weren’t tucked away behind charm or softened by that easy smile. They were there—fully bared, sharp and gleaming, lengthened into something undeniably monstrous. The water didn’t wash them clean. If anything, it made them glisten more, catching the light in a way that made your stomach tighten.
He was drooling.
Not a trickle. Not something you could politely ignore.
It was excessive. Thick. Strands of it clinging to his lower lip, gathering at the corners of his mouth before slipping free and vanishing into the torrent of water cascading over both of you.
You could see it.
Even through the steam.
Even through the heat.
Your breath caught, sharp and shallow.
For a second—just a second—you thought he might bite you.
The thought came uninvited, unwelcome, and yet it landed with a strange, desperate clarity. Pain would be clean. Immediate. Something you could understand, something that might cut through the noise in your head and the weight still clinging to your skin.
You wanted it.
The terrible realization of it all.
Remmick’s eyes flickered—subtle, but there. He saw it. That tiny shift in your breathing, the way your shoulders tensed not in retreat but in anticipation.
His mouth hovered closer.
Closer.
The fangs brushed your skin.
They didn’t puncture.
Just grazed.
A light scrape along your shoulder where the skin was already raw from your scrubbing.
It stung.
Wasn’t enough.
And then—
He licked you.
Open-mouthed and unashamed, his tongue dragging slow and broad across your skin, following the faint traces you’d failed to wash away. The sensation was overwhelming—heat layered over heat, the steady burn of the water mixing with something slick and invasive.
You flinched hard.
A sound caught in your throat, halfway between protest and something else you refused to name.
It was wrong.
God, it was so wrong.
The way he did it—no delicacy, no attempt to soften the act. Just the full press of his mouth, his tongue moving with a purposeful rhythm, gathering what remained and replacing it with something that felt heavier, thicker.
His saliva clung.
It didn’t rinse away like the water did. It smeared, spread, left your skin feeling coated in something that wasn’t yours.
Your stomach twisted.
Your fingers curled against his chest.
“Stop—” you tried, but it came out thin, unconvincing.
Remmick didn’t stop.
He shifted slightly, angling your arm, exposing more of your skin to him. His tongue followed, slow passes that bordered on methodical, like he was undoing your frantic attempts at cleansing and replacing them with something of his own design.
His fangs scraped again.
Another sting.
A shallow drag across your collarbone this time.
He didn’t apologize.
Didn’t even acknowledge it.
If anything, the faint hitch in your breath seemed to draw him in further.
The water poured down, relentless, but it couldn’t keep up with him. Wherever he touched, the sensation lingered—warm and slick and entirely his.
You should’ve pulled away.
Should’ve fought harder.
But your hands stayed where they were, braced against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your palms. Your body betrayed you in smaller ways—your breath coming uneven, your skin reacting to every pass of his mouth like it didn’t know how to separate disgust from something far more indefensible.
Remmick knew.
He always knew.
He paused—not pulling away completely, just enough that his mouth hovered a breath from your skin. His head tilted slightly, like he was listening to something only he could hear.
Or smelling it.
That faint shift.
That change in your core.
Your eyes squeezed shut.
“No,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.
A quiet sound left him—almost a hum, low in his throat.
His hand at your neck tightened just enough to ground you, to keep you from retreating into yourself completely.
When he moved again, it was slower.
More deliberate.
His mouth found your shoulder once more, but this time the motion was almost… patient. Less frantic, more certain. Each pass of his tongue felt intentional, claiming rather than simply cleaning.
As if he was marking over what had already happened.
Replacing it.
Rewriting it.
The disgust didn’t leave.
It sat heavy in your stomach, coiling tight.
But it tangled with something else now—something warmer, something that made your pulse feel too loud in your ears.
Remmick didn’t comment on it.
He didn’t need to.
The way his breath shifted, the subtle press of his mouth, the faint scrape of fang against skin—it all spoke for him.
He lingered there, close enough that you could feel the shape of his smile without seeing it.
And when he finally spoke, it was barely more than a murmur against your damp skin.
“Mm.”
That was all.
But the way he said it—
Like he’d found exactly what he was looking for.
The understanding of it sat heavy in the air between you, thicker than the steam, heavier than the heat pouring down your back. Remmick didn’t move right away. He stayed close—too close—his mouth hovering just off your skin, breath warm, damp, alive with something that made your pulse stutter in your throat.
His hand never left your neck.
Not once.
It had settled there so naturally you almost forgot it wasn’t supposed to be—fingers spread wide, thumb resting just beneath your jaw, holding you upright without asking, without needing permission. It wasn’t forceful in the way violence was forceful. It was… inevitable. Like gravity. Like something you couldn’t reason your way out of.
Your breath came uneven.
He felt it.
Remmick drew back just enough to look at you properly. His head tilted slightly, studying you the way he always did when he was deciding something—eyes slow and calculated, dragging over your face like he was memorizing each flicker of resistance before it disappeared.
The red had spread.
You saw it now—clear as anything.
His pupils were blown wide, the blue swallowed whole by that deep, glowing red you’d only ever seen when something buried inside him slipped closer to the surface.
Hunger.
Your stomach dropped.
“Open,” he said.
No softness in it.
Not even a drawl curling around the word to make it easier to swallow.
Just flat.
Certain.
You shook your head before you could think.
It wasn’t a real refusal. Not the kind that held weight. Just instinct. Just something inside you trying—failing—to push back.
Remmick didn’t react.
Didn’t sigh. Didn’t smile. Didn’t threaten.
His fingers lifted from your neck and moved to your face, hooking lightly at the corners of your mouth. Not pulling. Not yet.
Just resting there.
Waiting.
“Open,” he repeated, quieter this time.
Worse, somehow.
The steam pressed in around you. The water kept falling, hot and relentless, but all of it faded under the way he was looking at you now. There was nothing rushed in him. Nothing uncertain.
He would wait.
He would get what he asked for.
The realization slid down your spine like ice.
You opened your mouth.
“Opened” was generous.
But it was just enough for him.
Remmick’s fingers slipped inside, slow and deliberate, pressing past your lips like he’d done it a hundred times before. The motion was controlled, careful in its own way—but there was no gentleness to it. No hesitation.
He pushed deeper.
Your breath hitched.
Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, a sharp gag catching in your throat as his fingers pressed further than you were ready for.
Remmick’s mouth curved.
A low, quiet chuckle vibrated against the space between you.
“Better,” he murmured.
Not praise.
Not quite.
But it landed like it.
You made a small sound—protest, maybe—but it got lost around him, swallowed up, turned into something softer than you meant it to be.
He didn’t remove his hand right away.
Let you feel it.
Let you adjust.
Or struggle.
It didn’t matter which.
When he finally drew his fingers back, it was slow—dragging, intentional, leaving behind the ghost of the pressure, the lingering warmth that refused to fade.
Your lips parted again, breath catching.
Remmick didn’t give you time to recover.
His mouth replaced his hand.
At first, it was almost gentle.
Almost.
His lips pressed to yours in a way that might have been mistaken for something soft if you ignored everything else—the fangs brushing against you, the damp heat of his breath, the way his hand returned to your neck with a firmer hold this time.
You froze.
Then—slowly—your body betrayed you again.
You softened.
Just a fraction.
It was all he needed.
The kiss deepened without warning.
His mouth opened wider, his tongue pushing in with a sudden, overwhelming insistence that stole the breath from your lungs. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t something you could meet halfway.
It overtook.
Consumed.
His fangs scraped faintly against your teeth, a sharp edge that never quite broke skin but never let you forget it could. His saliva was everywhere—warm, excessive, impossible to ignore as it coated your mouth, your tongue, slipping further back in a way that made your throat tighten reflexively.
You tried to pull away.
You couldn’t.
His grip had changed.
What had been steady was now unyielding—fingers pressing firm at the back of your neck, holding you in place with a strength that didn’t need to prove itself.
The world narrowed.
Just this.
Just him.
The sound of the water blurred into the background, replaced by the wet, overwhelming reality of the kiss—too much, too close, too consuming. You felt it everywhere. In your chest. In your throat. In the way your pulse stumbled and raced all at once.
It was suffocating.
It was—
You didn’t finish the thought.
You couldn’t.
Remmick pulled back just enough to breathe.
His lips hovered against yours, breath and spit mingling as his eyes still locked on you with that same unbearable focus.
You didn’t realize how unsteady your legs had gotten until his other hand moved.
Slow.
Unhurried.
It traced down from your waist, fingers dragging along the curve of your side before dipping lower—lower—until they brushed lightly against your thigh.
You tensed instantly.
Your knees drew together without thinking.
He paused, but didn’t push.
Just feeling the resistance.
His thumb pressed faintly against the inside of your leg, testing the line you’d drawn, the boundary you were trying so hard to hold onto.
Remmick’s gaze didn’t leave your face.
Didn’t need to.
He already knew.
The faintest hint of a smile touched his mouth again.
Not amused.
Not mocking.
Something far more patient than that.
His hand remained there—resting, waiting, letting the moment stretch just long enough to make it unbearable.
The water kept falling.
Hot. Relentless.
It struck the crown of your head, ran down your face, your throat, your chest, pooling and slipping and taking nothing with it—not the memory, not the smell, not the way your body had begun to hum in spite of everything.
Remmick watched you.
He bore into every part of your face.
That was where the truth lived.
His thumb shifted—barely—against the inside of your thigh, a slow, testing press that didn’t push, didn’t force, but didn’t retreat either. It lingered there, warm and deliberate, drawing your attention down to the place you were trying so hard to ignore.
Your knees stayed locked.
Your breath didn’t.
It gave you away.
Remmick’s mouth curved, subtle. Quiet. More private. Like he was letting himself enjoy the moment instead of performing it.
“Well now,” he murmured, voice thick with that slow drawl that came out strongest when he was most certain. “Ain’t that somethin’.”
Your throat tightened.
“Don’t—” you started, but the word came out weak, unraveling before it could hold shape.
He leaned in just enough that you felt it before you heard it—his breath brushing your cheek, warm despite everything.
“Go on,” he said, almost conversational. “Open up for me.”
You shook your head.
It wasn’t enough to matter.
Remmick’s hand didn’t move.
“Darlin’,” he added, softer now, almost playful in a way that made something sharp twist behind your ribs. “Y’know I’m a gentleman.”
Your stomach dropped.
“I’d hate to go and ruin that reputation.”
The lightness in his tone—the ease of it, like this was a game, like this was something small—it nearly brought tears to your eyes. It made the room tilt, made everything feel even more unreal than it already did.
You swallowed hard.
“I can’t,” you whispered. “Not here. Not—like this. I can’t—”
Your voice broke.
“I can’t do this right now.”
The words sounded fragile.
He heard them.
Remmick leaned back just enough to see you again, properly this time. His head tilted, eyes narrowing slightly—not in anger, not in disappointment.
In consideration.
For a moment—just a moment—it almost looked like he might give it to you. That small mercy. That pause you were so desperate for.
His thumb stilled.
His hand eased.
The pressure lifted just enough to make your chest ache with the sudden absence of it.
“Mm,” he hummed, thoughtful.
Then he smiled.
Slow.
Measured.
“Alright,” he said.
The word settled over you like a false promise.
“Just this once.”
Relief hit you too fast.
Too deep.
It made your shoulders sag, your breath rush out in a shaky exhale you couldn’t quite control. Your knees loosened—not opening, not yet, but no longer braced so tightly shut.
Remmick noticed.
Of course he did.
He didn’t rush you.
Didn’t need to.
He waited.
And that patience—God, that patience—did more than any force ever could.
Because now it was you.
You who moved.
Slowly.
Reluctantly.
Your legs eased apart.
Just a fraction at first.
Then more.
Each inch felt like something slipping, something giving way inside you that you weren’t sure you’d ever get back.
Remmick’s expression changed.
The lack of subtlety alarmed you.
The restraint broke into something brighter, wider—something that showed teeth, showed hunger, showed the full, unfiltered satisfaction of a man watching something unfold exactly the way he knew it would.
“That's my girl,” he murmured, and you knew he caught the corner of your mouth twitch in response.
The words hung there, low and approving, wrapping around your spine like smoke. His hand didn’t waste the opening. It slid higher, fingers parting the slick heat between your thighs with a certainty that made your breath snag hard in your chest.
You bit your lip.
Remmick’s mouth was already on you again—wet, open presses against your jaw first, then trailing lower, scattering kisses along the line of your neck like he was mapping territory he’d conquered long ago. Each one landed heavy, saliva-slick and unhurried, his lips dragging just enough to leave your skin gleaming under the falling water. The heat of him everywhere. Breath ghosting your ear. Fangs grazing faint, teasing threats that made every nerve scream alive.
“Goddamn,” he breathed against your throat, voice rougher now. “Look at ya. Soakin’ for me already.”
His fingers found you.
Two of them pressed in slow—inch by burning inch—stretching you open with a precision that reminded how well he knew this part of you. Knew the exact angle that made your hips jerk. Knew the rhythm that turned resistance to ruin.
You clenched around him on instinct.
Tried to hide it.
Failed.
A sharp gasp tore from your throat, raw and unfiltered, echoing louder than the water in your sharpened ears. Everything was amplified. The slide of his fingers inside you felt like lightning—wet, obscene sounds mixing with the shower’s roar, your own pulse thundering in your temples, his scent flooding your lungs. Cedar and smoke and something darker, primal, overtaking every sense until there was no room for shame.
No room for anything but him.
He chuckled low, the vibration humming against your collarbone where his mouth lingered, sucking a mark that would bruise just right. “Tryin’ to play coy, darlin’? Ain’t workin’. I feel that little flutter. Ya love this.”
His thumb circled your clit—slow, firm circles that built pressure like a storm gathering. In. Out. Deeper each time, his fingers curling just so, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids.
You hated it.
Hated how he played you like an instrument he’d tuned himself. Every twist, every press, pulled euphoria from you in waves you couldn’t swallow down.
Your hands fisted in his soaked shirt.
Pulled him closer.
“Remmick—” It came out broken, a plea wrapped in protest.
He didn’t stop.
Didn’t slow.
His free hand stayed firm at your neck, thumb stroking your pulse like he was counting the beats racing under his touch. His mouth moved again—kisses peppering your cheek, your temple, the corner of your eye where salt mixed with water. Wet. Messy. Stealing every inch.
“That’s it,” he praised, fangs nipping light at your earlobe. “Take it so pretty. My perfect girl, openin’ up just like I knew ya would.”
The words sank into you, hot as the water scalding your back. His fingers thrust deeper, faster now, but still controlled—twisting on the outstroke, crooking to drag against your walls, thumb relentless on that bundle of nerves. Pleasure coiled tight, insane and overwhelming, your new senses turning it into something unbearable. You could hear your own slickness, feel every ridge of his knuckles, smell the sharp tang of arousal cutting through the steam.
You tried to bite it back.
Tried to keep your hips still.
They bucked anyway.
A whine slipped free—high, desperate, nothing like you.
Remmick's mouth found your neck again, sucking hard enough to mark, tongue laving over the spot before kissing lower, open-mouthed and dripping. “Hear that? That’s you, darlin’. So wet for my fingers. Actin’ like ya don’t want it, but this pussy’s tellin’ tales.” He teased, voice a rumble you felt in your bones. Another curl of his fingers—precise, devastating. “Gonna make ya come so hard ya forget every damn thing but me.”
He was everywhere.
Filling you. Surrounding you. His body pressed close, shirt clinging translucent to the hard planes of his chest, suspenders heavy with water slapping wet against his thighs as he moved. Kisses rained down—jaw, throat, the hollow of your collarbone—each one leaving trails of spit that the shower couldn’t rinse away fast enough. His breath in your ear. His growl when you clenched again. His scent choking out the copper ghost that had haunted you.
You hated this too.
How he knew.
Knew to slow just when the edge loomed, drawing it out with shallow thrusts that made you chase him. Knew to whisper filth against your skin—“Fuck, ya grip me like ya never wanna let go. Good girl, just like that”—while his thumb flicked faster, building that euphoric blaze higher.
Your thighs trembled, spread wide now, knees digging into marble that no longer felt cold. Everything narrowed to the thick slide of him inside you, the wet smack of skin, the relentless press of his mouth claiming your face, your neck, like he’d devour you piece by piece.
“Remmick—please—” You didn’t know what you were begging for. Stop? More? It didn’t matter.
He laughed soft, dark, lips brushing your pulse. “Please what, sugar? This?” Deeper thrust. “Or this?” Thumb grinding hard. His fingers pumped steady, unyielding, chasing every hidden spot until euphoria drowned you—wave after crashing wave, your body arching, toes curling, every sense screaming his name.
You were lost.
Floating.
So close.
The coil snapped taut, pleasure cresting, ready to shatter—
Then, he stopped.
Fingers still buried deep, but unmoving.
Why the fuck did he stop?
Your body clenched around him, desperate, chasing what he’d yanked away. A whine built in your throat—weak, needy—but before it could spill, Remmick’s eyes held yours. Blazing red. Unblinking. Pinning you there under the relentless pour of water, steam curling like fingers around his shoulders.
No words.
Just that gaze.
Then his mouth moved.
Kissing down from the frantic pulse in your neck—soft at first, lips parting to suck light marks that bloomed under his touch. Water streamed between you, mixing with his spit, but he didn’t care. Didn’t pause. His free hand braced your hip, steadying you as his kisses trailed lower, grazing collarbone with fangs that scraped just enough to sting.
You sucked in a breath.
Tried to form protest.
“Remmick, I—”
Too late.
His lips found your breast.
One.
Then the other.
He lingered.
God, he lingered.
Mouth sealing hot over your nipple, tongue swirling broad and slow, lapping like he was starving for the taste. Suction pulled tight—wet, obscene—drawing a gasp from you that echoed off marble. His fangs grazed the sensitive peak, not piercing, just pressing, threatening, sending jolts straight to your core.
He switched sides without mercy, sucking harder, biting down just enough to ache, tongue soothing the sting before diving in again. Your back arched. Hands fisted in his wet hair. Everything was too sharp, too much—pleasure spiking through your heightened nerves like knives wrapped in velvet.
He hummed against your skin.
Approval.
Hunger.
Kisses scattered lower—sternum, ribs, the soft plane of your stomach. His fingers slipped free at last, leaving you empty, throbbing, a slick trail dragging along your inner thigh as he went. His mouth followed, pressing open kisses that smeared heat, fangs nipping faint at your hipbone.
You were spread before him now.
Knees weak against marble.
Pussy bare, aching, dripping under his gaze.
But before his mouth could descend—
The flash hit.
Sudden.
Vicious.
The man’s face again. Those kind eyes widening—not in pleasure, but terror. Blood. Gurgling. Your fangs sinking deep, the hot spill over your chin. Remmick’s voice praising from the shadows.
Show me what I made.
Disgust crashed over you.
Thick as the steam.
You were soaked in it now—his touch, your arousal, all of it twisted into something vile. Pleasuring yourselves to this. After that. Your body betrayed you even as your stomach heaved, sobs ripping free, raw and jagged.
“N-no,” you choked, curling inward, hands shoving weakly at his shoulders. “I can’t—God, the blood, his eyes—I killed him, Remmick, and you—you made me a monster, and now this—”
Tears mixed with water, hot streaks down your face you couldn’t tell apart.
Remmick froze.
Just for a beat.
Then he rose—slow, fluid—cradling your face in both hands, thumbs wiping tears he’d caused. His eyes softened. Red dimming to something almost blue, almost human. “Hey now, darlin’,” he cooed, voice dropping to that velvet murmur, thick with drawl. “Shh. I gotcha.”
He eased you down.
Gentle.
Marble chilled your back as he laid you out, water pooling beneath, his body shielding you from the spray. He hovered close—not crowding—but everywhere. Mouth brushing your forehead, your temples, soft kisses peppering your eyelids. “I know, sugar. I see it tearin’ ya up. That ain’t right.”
You sobbed harder.
He shushed you soft—lips against your brow, hand stroking damp hair from your face. “Listen to me. I feel it too. That weight. Makes my chest ache seein’ ya hurt like this. He was just a man walkin’ his path, and now… hell, it sits heavy on me same as you.”
Lies.
Smooth as silk.
But your senses drowned—water roaring, his scent overwhelming, touch grounding you in the now. No room to question. Too raw. Too much.
“I didn’t want this for ya,” he murmured, kissing your cheek, your jaw, nuzzling close like a lover grieving with you. “Not the pain. Not the ghosts. I turned ya ‘cause I love ya, darlin’. Wanted ya forever with me. But this? This guilt? I hate it eatin’ at ya. Let me take it away. Just for now. Let me make ya feel good. That’s all this is. All for you.”
His hand trailed soothing paths down your side—light, reassuring. Kisses dotted your throat, your collarbone. “It’ll be okay. I promise. We’ll figure the rest. Together. But right now? Let me love on ya. Wash it all clean.”
You hiccuped.
Clung to him.
Not convinced—not fully—but the overwhelm crashed too hard. Sobs tangled with shivers, his words weaving through like balm on burned skin.
He felt it—the softening, the brief surrender.
Like clockwork, he moved.
Eased down your body again.
Settled between your thighs.
Eyes locked on yours one last beat—red flaring hungry beneath the feigned concern.
Then his tongue dragged.
Bottom to top.
He dove in.
A long, flat lick through your folds, gathering slick, pressing firm against your clit at the very end. The taste of you exploded on him. A growl rumbled low, ancient, and whatever mask lingered shattered.
Ravenous.
Unrelenting.
His mouth sealed over you—sucking hard, tongue thrusting deep like it aimed to replace his fingers and more. No tease now. No patience. He devoured—lips pulling at your folds, fangs grazing outer lips with dangerous precision, never breaking but threatening ecstasy edged in peril. His tongue swirled wild inside you, curling, lapping every drop, then flicking frantic over your clit—fast, messy, insatiable.
You cried out.
Body bowed.
Tears streamed—guilt? Pleasure? Blurred into one endless salt. Sobs choked into moans, your hands yanking his hair, hips bucking into his face despite everything. He was everywhere again—growls vibrating through your core, nose grinding against your mound, saliva mixing with your arousal in thick, dripping strands that clung and stretched. He ate like famine gripped him—sucking your clit between lips, teeth nipping light, tongue plunging deep, fucking into you with wet, obscene thrusts.
“Fuck—Remmick—”
He didn’t stop.
Wouldn’t.
A hand pinned your thigh wide—claws pricking faint, holding you open as his mouth worked ruthless. Lick after lick after lick—broad stripes, pointed flicks, circling that swollen peak until sparks lit your veins. Your heightened world exploded: every lap thundered like thunder, his hums rattled your bones, scent of sex and him choking the air. Pleasure built savage, coiling tighter than before, guilt fracturing under the onslaught.
He pulled back just enough—barely—to growl against your dripping core. “Taste so goddamn sweet, darlin’. All mine.” Then back in—fangs scraping inner thighs, tongue spearing deep, lips sealing to suck like he’d draw your soul through your cunt.
Your tears were endless.
Sobs melting to screams.
Hated it.
Needed it.
His free hand slid up—fingers pinching your nipple, rolling hard, syncing with the frenzy below. Mouth unrelenting—lapping, sucking, biting faint at tender flesh. Growls turning feral, drool slicking your thighs, water doing nothing to dilute the mess. You were soaked. Ruined. Every sense overtaken—his heat, his hunger, his everything consuming you whole.
The edge loomed again.
Faster.
Harder.
His tongue lashed with renewed fury, plunging deep into your core before flicking up to your clit in a rhythm that bordered on brutal. You couldn’t take it anymore. The pleasure bordered on pain now—too intense, too all-consuming for your sharpened senses to process. Your hands shot to his head, fingers tangling in his slick hair as you tried to push him away. “Remmick—stop, too much, I can’t—”
He didn’t stop.
He didn’t even pause.
Instead, his grip tightened. His claws dug deeper into the soft flesh of your thighs, pricking skin with sharp points that drew faint beads of blood. The sting barely registered amid the onslaught, but it anchored you, held you mercilessly open. He locked you against his mouth, nose grinding into your mound, lips sealing tight as he devoured you with even more ferocity. Growls vibrated through your folds, low and animalistic, drowning out your pleas. He didn’t seem to hear you anymore.
Or if he did, he didn’t care.
His tongue thrust relentlessly, curling inside you, lapping every inch like a beast denied for centuries. Fangs scraped your inner lips, teasing peril without piercing, while his lips sucked hard on your clit, pulling it between them with obscene pressure.
You thrashed.
Sobs tore from your throat—pleasure and overwhelm twisting into something frantic. “Please—Remmick!” Your hips bucked wildly, but his claws pinned you down, unyielding. He ate you like he owned you, tongue swirling faster, wetter, more invasive, saliva dripping in thick strands that mixed with your arousal and the shower’s endless cascade.
Every sense screamed: the wet smacks of his mouth, the copper tang of your own blood mingling faint with the air, his scent choking everything else. You loathed how it built again, coiling savage despite your protests, euphoria crashing higher until your vision blurred.
It hit like oblivion.
You came.
Hard.
Your body seized, back arching off the marble as waves ripped through you—insane, shattering, so high you nearly blacked out. A scream echoed off the walls, raw and broken, as you soaked him completely. Slick gushed from you in hot pulses, flooding his mouth, his chin, dripping down his neck to mix with the water. He drank it all, growling deep, tongue still working through the spasms, prolonging every twitch until you shuddered boneless beneath him.
Only then did he relent.
He lifted his head slowly, face glistening—your release smeared across his lips, his cheeks, clinging in strands to his fangs. Red eyes glowed triumphant, pupils blown wide. He crawled up your body with deliberate grace, water sluicing over both of you, and captured your mouth in a kiss.
You accepted it.
Couldn’t do anything else.
Your limbs felt like lead, spent and trembling, every muscle drained from the high. His lips pressed soft now—loving, almost tender—as his tongue slipped inside, mingling saliva thick and warm. You tasted yourself on him: sharp, sweet, intoxicating. Your fangs brushed his, a faint scrape that sent aftershocks tingling through you. He kissed you deeply, slowly, hand cupping your jaw like you were fragile porcelain. No rush. Just possession wrapped in gentleness.
He pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips. “There ya go, darlin’. All better now.”
And it was.
He had done exactly as he promised. The memory of the man—the kind eyes, the blood, the guilt—had faded to a distant echo, washed away in the flood of him. Nothing remained but Remmick. His touch. His taste. His voice coiling through your mind like roots taking hold.
Time blurred in the steam-filled haze.
Minutes?
Hours?
You couldn’t tell.
The shower poured on, relentless, but he made no move to stop it at first. He simply held you there, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, whispering soft nothings that wove deeper into your bones.
“Ya did so good for me,” he said, voice a low rumble, thumb stroking your damp cheek. “My brave girl. Lettin’ me take care of ya like this. Ain’t nothin’ gonna hurt ya now. Not while I’m here.”
His words wrapped around you, gentle and addictive, each one a thread pulling you tighter to him. You melted into it, eyelids heavy, body limp against the marble. He shifted, reaching past you with one arm, and the water cut off abruptly. Silence rushed in—broken only by your shared breaths and the faint drip from fixtures. Cool air kissed your heated skin, raising goosebumps, but he didn’t let you shiver long.
Remmick gathered you up effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as he stepped from the shower. His clothes clung sodden and ruined, but he ignored them. He carried you to the marble counter, perching you there gently, like you weighed nothing.
“Hold still, sugar,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple before turning to the linen closet.
He returned with a towel—plush, oversized, warmed somehow in his hands. He draped it over your shoulders first, rubbing slow circles to chase away the chill. His touch stayed reverent, obsessive in its thoroughness: drying your arms, your back, lifting each leg to pat tenderly along the claw-marked thighs. He lingered there, eyes darkening faint at the red welts, but his fingers soothed rather than tormented—light strokes that made you sigh. “Look at these,” he whispered, voice thick with feigned regret. “Got carried away lovin’ on ya. I’ll kiss ‘em better later. Promise.”
You nodded faintly, too spent to argue, leaning into his care. He dried your hair next, fingers combing through the wet strands with shameless intimacy, tilting your head back to blot the nape of your neck.
Every motion screamed possession: the way he murmured praises—“So beautiful like this, all soft and mine”—the way his eyes never left you, red glow simmering possessive. “Ya don’t gotta worry ‘bout a thing. I got ya forever now. No more scrubbin’, no more ghosts. Just us.”
Time slipped further. He wrapped you in the towel like a cocoon, lifting you again to carry you from the bathroom. The estate’s halls blurred past—dark wood panels, faint lamplight casting long shadows—but you barely registered them. Your bedroom materialized: the massive four-poster bed, silk sheets rumpled from earlier nights, air heavy with his scent. He laid you down reverently, peeling the towel away to slide cool sheets over your naked skin.
He stripped then—efficient, unhurried—tossing wet clothes aside before joining you. His body pressed close, warm and solid, one arm banding around your waist to tuck you against his chest. “Sleep now, darlin’,” he cooed, lips brushing your ear, hand splaying wide over your stomach in a move that felt like protection. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Gonna hold ya all night. Dream of good things. Dream of me.”
His fingers traced lazy patterns—spine, hip, the curve of your breast—gentle caresses that lulled rather than aroused. Kisses dotted your shoulder, your hair. “You're perfect,” he whispered, obsessive litany spilling soft. “My heart. My everything. Turned ya right, didn’t I? Feel that strength in ya now? All mine to keep safe.” Delusions layered sweet, each word erasing cracks, filling you with him.
The man’s face flickered once—faint—then vanished, overwritten by Remmick’s touch, his breath syncing with yours.
Your eyelids drooped.
The world narrowed to his warmth, his voice humming low lullabies in that hypnotic tone. “That’s it. Drift off. I love ya more than anythin’. Forever, sugar. Just like this.”
i want someone badly a frank langdon x reader smau
in which an accidental text very publicly reveals a certain doctors feelings for one frank langdon
content: black!fem!reader implied but no descriptions used, divorced!langdon, use of (y/n), gen z speak, foul language, mentions of addiction, suggestiveness, spoilers, doesn't follow the pitt timeline or canon, lotssss of creative liberties taken, switches between conversations frequently
inspired by: @p1ttlings and @tequilai + jeff buckley for title
synopsis: you two went to disney land for yalls honeymoon, you two got a little carried away with “fighting..”
cw: I was reaching a flo state while writing, and wrote the n word, omg everybody gasp idk. (if this needs to be said I am black )
wc: 1030
╰┈➤a/n: so apparently him and Lisa broke the bed at disney. Probably for a different reason but hey … we’ll never know😭
era: mature michael.
Michael decided to take you out to Disney for y’alls honeymoon. You knew this was his dream honeymoon before you even said yes to marrying him.
He squeezed your hand tightly as you two walked through the gates. You gave him a light smile.
“Excited?” you asked softly.
He just nodded his head.
The whole day Michael walked, damn near ran ahead of you the entire time. Every few minutes he’d spot something else he wanted to do, immediately trying to drag you along with him. Excited to get on this ride, excited to see that attraction, excited to eat some random snack he seen someone else carrying.
Even if most of the rides weren’t something you would’ve picked yourself, you still got on them. It was your honeymoon after all.
Sometimes you’d get stopped by someone who recognized Michael underneath his most obvious disguise ever. One person asking for an autograph somehow turned into a whole line waiting for him. By the time it was over, Michael looked guilty.
“I’m sorry,” he said for what felt like the hundredth time.
“Mike, we’re at Disney. You’re signing autographs. That’s kind of adorable.” You just thought it was all too fun and cute.
By the end of the first day, you and Michael decided to stay at a hotel at Disneyland. The room was huge. Well, of course it was. It had its own small living room and a separate bedroom.
Michael immediately went to the room and laid spread out on the bed, looking exhausted.
You immediately took a shower. Once you were in there, you found yourself thinking about one thing. What could you wear for the special husband?
You got out and rubbed coconut oil all over your skin, wanting it to shine while also making sure you smelled good just for him. You looked in the mirror at your hair. You wanted to have it out for Michael tonight, but risking it looking a mess for another day at Disneyland was a hell no. A mess you weren’t ready to do.
You quickly placed a bonnet on, then slipped into some silky pajamas. A matching striped button-up shirt and some striped pants.
You wanted to look sexy. But you were also exhausted. So for the first day.. just something simple.
When you walked out of the bathroom, you saw Michael waiting. “Did you fall in?” he asked softly.
“Fall in?”
“In the toilet.” He laughed a little, making sure to tease on how long you stayed in the bathroom, gosh he was so goofy.
You rolled your eyes.
He smiled and held a hand out toward you, gesturing for you to come over. Once you did, he spread his legs and you found a spot right between them. He looked up at you while sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands resting right on your ass before wrapping his arms underneath it and resting his head against you. “I hope you had fun today…” His voice was quieter now.
You knew where this was coming from. Disney had been his idea. His dream honeymoon. He felt selfish.. but to you, you couldn’t find anything he could do better for this honeymoon.
“It was fun, Mike. Don’t worry.”
You reassured him, petting his hair. He immediately groaned at the feeling, showing exactly how much he liked it. You smiled.
Then your eyes landed on one of the pillows. You smiled evilly. Slowly backing away from him, you grabbed it.
“What are you doin—” The pillow slammed directly into Michael’s face. You couldn’t help but to laugh.
Neither could he.
The second you tried running to the other side of the hotel room, he pointed at you. “Where you think ya’ goin?” He immediately took off after you.
Halfway through the chase he stopped, grabbed a pillow of his own, then continued after you. He was fast too, hopping over the couch just to catch you. Shit, you forgot the nigga was fast as hell..
Eventually you slipped on the wooden floor in the living room. Before you could get back up, Michael grabbed your ankle and slid you toward him.
“Michael!”
WHACK.
The pillow hit your shoulder, he missed your face that time, then another hit, then again.. and then damn again. “Okay! Damn…” you yelped out, you then look up, giving your best fake pout.
Immediately Michael froze, thinking your pout was real. His smile disappeared on his face, his voice soft.. “I… I didn’t mean to—”
WHACK. “Don’t hate the player, hate the mother fuckin game!!” You yelled, as the pillow hit him right in the face. You took off running, making sure you didn’t fall this time.
His jaw dropped. “Ah…You sly thing…” he said laughing, but a little frustrated for falling for it. He was a sore loser.
You ran straight into the bedroom and jumped onto the bed. Michael followed right after you, climbing up there too. The pillow fight continued as both of you laughed harder and harder, neither one really caring who won anymore.
Then a loud creak echoed underneath you. Both of you paused. “…Did you hear that?” you asked. Michael shrugged. A few seconds later both of you landed on the mattress again.
And then.. a crack. A loud crack.
The left side of the bed immediately dropped. The right side tried its hardest to stay standing before giving up too. The room went silent.
Your eyes widened as you looked straight at Michael. He looked back at you with the exact same expression.
“…Ah. Well, Michael…”
For a moment neither of you said anything, then he couldn’t help but laugh. You wanted to think it was childish, but you eventually laughed at it too.
He grabbed one of the pillows and tossed it at you one last time. “Who cares if the bed broke?” he whispered.
“Me. I want to sleep. But you got money, so you got it.”
That only made him laugh harder. Eventually the two of you settled onto the broken bed anyway. You being the little spoon while he wrapped his arms around you from behind.
