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firendgold · 10 months

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Since I saw that you're doing the violence ask game can you answer 22, 25 and 7??

I sure can.~

This one got long af though, so another readmore.

(still choosing violence)

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

This is another one I've answered already, but tbf... it was yesterday. So I can pull my second favorite part of canon instead so you don't have to re-read an older answer.

There's two moments that tie: one in year 5 and one in year 6. Year 5's moment is a nice warm-and-fuzzy "the trio are such good friends" scene, in the midst of Umbridge torturing Harry with her quill:

It was nearly midnight when Harry left Umbridge’s office that night, his hand now bleeding so severely that it was staining the scarf he had wrapped around it. He expected the common room to be empty when he returned, but Ron and Hermione had sat up waiting for him. He was pleased to see them, especially as Hermione was disposed to be sympathetic rather than critical. “Here,” she said anxiously, pushing a small bowl of yellow liquid toward him, “soak your hand in that, it’s a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles, it should help.” Harry placed his bleeding, aching hand into the bowl and experienced a wonderful feeling of relief. Crookshanks curled around his legs, purring loudly, and then leapt into his lap and settled down. “Thanks,” he said gratefully, scratching behind Crookshanks’s ears with his left hand. “I still reckon you should complain about this,” said Ron in a low voice. “No,” said Harry flatly. “McGonagall would go nuts if she knew—” “Yeah, she probably would,” said Harry. “And how long d’you reckon it’d take Umbridge to pass another Decree saying anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?” Ron opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out and after a moment he closed it again in a defeated sort of way. “She’s an awful woman,” said Hermione in a small voice. “Awful. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you came in . . . we’ve got to do something about her.” “I suggested poison,” said Ron grimly.

Just seeing the trio bounce off each other is soothing (especially after reading days or weeks worth of fanfics where they all suddenly hate each other or were never really that good of friends or whatever). Harry's gratitude and stubbornness, Hermione's caretaking and forethought and plotting, Ron's voice of reason and necessary dash of humor... all perfect. Also, just... Harry is so used to going things alone, toughing things out by himself. It's heartwarming and sad that he still doesn't expect Ron and Hermione to do something as simple as waiting up for him to get back from hellish detention. Also also: Crookshanks curling up with him. ^^

Year 6's moment is just between Harry and Hermione:

Hermione stopped dead; Harry had heard it too. Somebody had moved close behind them among the dark bookshelves. They waited and a moment later the vulture-like countenance of Madam Pince appeared round the corner, her sunken cheeks, her skin like parchment and her long hooked nose illuminated unflatteringly by the lamp she was carrying. ‘The library is now closed,’ she said. ‘Mind you return anything you have borrowed to the correct – what have you been doing to that book, you depraved boy?’ ‘It isn’t the library’s, it’s mine!’ said Harry hastily, snatching his copy of Advanced Potion-Making off the table as she lunged at it with a clawlike hand. ‘Despoiled!’ she hissed. ‘Desecrated! Befouled!’ ‘It’s just a book that’s been written in!’ said Harry, tugging it out of her grip. She looked as though she might have a seizure; Hermione, who had hastily packed her things, grabbed Harry by the arm and frogmarched him away. ‘She’ll ban you from the library if you’re not careful. Why did you have to bring that stupid book?’ ‘It’s not my fault she’s barking mad, Hermione. Or d’you think she overheard you being rude about Filch? I’ve always thought there might be something going on between them …’ ‘Oh, ha, ha …’ Enjoying the fact that they could speak normally again, they made their way along the deserted, lamplit corridors back to the common room, arguing about whether or not Filch and Madam Pince were secretly in love with each other.

Very, very cute scene showing Harry and Hermione getting along casually, something we're not often treated to even in canon. A frankly disturbing amount of fans (particularly fans of A Specific Ship I Will Not Mention Here) have bought into the propaganda that Harry and Hermione aren't really that good of friends just because during GOF, when he'd just experienced his first ever schism with a close friend, Harry privately confessed to missing Ron and enjoying the things he did with his male best friend more. The trio is not "Harry and Ron, then Ron and Hermione". It's "Harry, Ron, and Hermione"; all three of them are necessary pieces of the whole. Harry and Hermione's friendship is different than Harry's with Ron, but it's no less valuable, and not any weaker, or else Hermione wouldn't have stayed in that damned tent.

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

Every bit of discourse about Sirius not getting a trial. We know. The injustice is the point. The cruelty is the point. The POINT is to show that wizarding Britain is glitz and glamor and not all that fair to its marginalized peoples and underclass, you nimrods. Frankly, the fanfics that purport to 'fix' it by giving Sirius his "restored Lordship" or a bunch of seats on the Wizengamot or immediate "wizarding guardianship" over Harry or some unnamed hot babes for him to fuck on or off-screen are very... shallow and unsatisfying. Either that or they give him a bunch of money, though this would at least be on brand for the Ministry. But like... yeah. I'm tired of this complaint always going in the same direction and not being a gateway to Greater Commentary On The Series and the World. Because it's not like Sirius and/or Harry become the type of people who rebel against this ideology. If anything, they embrace the pureblood nonsense in a lot of these fics and are just mad that Sirius was the target that one time. Gaaaah.

And, and. Every bit of discourse about Dumbledore leaving Harry at the Dursleys and/or the sacrificial lamb throwaway line by Snape, especially because 99.9% of people discussing it either haven't read the books, haven't read them since the first time and desperately need a re-read, have only seen the movies, are parroting opinions from some other wrong person on the internet, are all read-up but blatantly ignoring what Dumbledore and Harry say (and don't say) over what they THINK they mean, or some other lovely form of ignorance that leads to the same long-debunked takes being re-introduced as GASP-DID-YOU-EVER-CONSIDER soundbites over and over and over and OVER again. I'm so sick of it.

I get it, JKR's a TERF, you don't want to re-engage with her work, and you don't have to. You don't have to give her any more money. Hell, you shouldn't, ever again. But please, fucking make sure your knowledge is correct and not fandom telephone when it comes to Harry's childhood and Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I'm not-even-lowkey sick of some of y'all at this point.

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because of how the fandom acts about them?

I... don't have an immediate answer for this, so I'm going to have to think about it. To you it's only going to take me one line, but for me it'll actually be like... an evening or something.

...

Okay.

This is difficult because (to use the exact terminology) I can't think of a character I've come to hate because of how the fandom acts about them. I definitely have characters whose most popular fanon versions are so irritating or repulsive that it has caused me to look more critically on the real versions of them, though. I guess maybe I'll list those here.

Fleur came to mind first. She seems (and can be) very shallow and haughty in canon at first, but shows compassion and hidden depths in all three of her appearances. She has some veela hair in her wand from her grandmother, and a deep devotion for her younger sister. However... many fanfics (especially harem fanfics or flowerpot fanfics) paint her as either this femme fatale who uses her "veela allure" at will and Cannot Fathom the idea of a man who can resist her (and is thus more vulnerable to falling in love with such a man) or as a super-powerful witch whose family is basically running Magical France (since of course, she is the only French character we know, so why wouldn't she be the most influential person there? /s). Basically, the "foreign" version of what people do to fanon Daphne Greengrass. Ironically, the best fanfic portrayals of Fleur I've seen are the ones that keep her shipped with Bill (with a few flowerpot exceptions, see A Beautiful Lie by MaybeMayba as the prime example), or ship her with Hermione or Ginny... which is sad because I love me some ship variety. (And I still think Bill/Tonks would've been rad as hell.) So I don't dislike canon Fleur, but fanon's "over-attention" to that possible veela heritage and the weird implication that Harry was just "forced" not to notice this perfect woman in his life, rather than just noticing her beauty and not being interested, rubs me the wrong way and disinclines me from including her in many of my own works.

The Bones family is next. Yes, both Amelia and Susan. Susan isn't as bad (I think she has... two lines in Order of the Phoenix? maybe?), but as with most "mostly undefined" HP girls, the personality the fandom has given her (the super sweet politically-savvy Hufflepuff girlfriend of "just do independent!Harry with Lordships and pro-Ministry propaganda and plenty of Wizengamot meetings between Hogwarts classes") is one I've seen so many times it has come to negatively affect my view of the real girl, even though I think the way she calls Amelia "auntie" in canon is adorable. As for Amelia, fanon likes to make her either the Only Sane Man in the Ministry or the leader of the sane faction, who magically is able to fix or ignore all the corruption in said Ministry and can railroad through whatever decisions Harry needs done once he needs to Do Political or Pureblood Stuff Outside of Hogwarts--provided, of course, he's been nice enough to Susan recently.

The closest actual answer to this question I have is Tom Riddle. I didn't like him in canon by any means--I'd probably say I was neutral toward him, just seeing him as "the young Voldemort before he did his magical girl transformation". But fanon kind of acts like he and Voldemort are... two different people? There's these pervasive ideas that either Tom could've been "saved" if Certain People Just Did More (to stop him sneaking around and bullying and murdering???), or that Tom wasn't really so bad when he was gathering up supporters, murdering his family members and the few people who trusted him, and generally going around Becoming the Dark Lord--it was just when he made the switch that he became bad. And like... no. I can't buy that. Even in fanfic, I can't get fully behind the idea of a sane Tom Riddle who was Doing Good until he got sidetracked Oh Nooo. He wasn't. I believe Voldemort was saner before he tried to kill a baby and it backfired, but I don't think there was ever a point where he could have been saved. At every fork he made the wrong decision--to soothe his ego, to feel powerful, to feel special, to feel better than others and make them feel that way too. Tom Riddle's a prick. If anything, we should've seen him squirm a little more before he died.

The last one stings, because it's a character I adore: Hermione. Hermione is a very polarizing figure in canon and always has been, I get it. But what particularly hurts me about her fanon portrayals is that they are VERY SELDOM accurate, or even balanced. Either the author sees her as Their Wife and so she is perfect and never does any wrong and basically becomes the main character of the fic (even if she is not actually the main character), or they overinflate her flaws and use it as a reason to hate on her and bash her to oblivion. There's rarely an in-between. I'm not sure which one is worse. If you held my feet to the fire, I might say the former because a character without any flaws or one who takes over the entire narrative and doesn't let other characters breathe is not fucking interesting to me in the slightest.

This especially hurts because I am a huge Harmony fan and like 60% of bad Harmony fanfics are always the same fucking tropes/plotlines. Hermione is unironically referred to as The Brightest Witch of THE Age (incorrect, not what Remus said. he said "the brightest witch of your age I've ever met", basically meaning she's unusually smart for a fourteen year-old girl). She's treated like the next female Dumbledore who has all the answers (even about stuff she wouldn't know) and often guides Harry's every move.

And speaking of Dumbledore--the same girl who is supportive of him in canon and (after Harry) is MOST likely to recognize Dumbledore as a human who can make mistakes is ALWAYS turned into a Dumbledore Skeptic Who Has Been Suspicious of His Motives All Along, and who will do whatever it takes to get her boyfriend away from his manipulations... by taking manipulative!Dumbledore's place. That's right. This version of fanon Hermione ALWAYS becomes the same thing the author is supposedly railing against, because Harry becomes her mouthpiece, spends all his time with her to the exclusion of anyone else, and can't have a single meeting or meaningful scene with any other character unless she is also present.

Haphne fics do this too, but I swear they got it from bad Harmony fics and it makes me so mad. For once, I would love to read a Harmony fic where Dumbledore is portrayed accurately and both Harry AND Hermione are equal, independent partners who don't have panic attacks if separated for more than five minutes. Especially because as a child Hermione never struck me as the kind of person who even would get married or have a serious relationship distracting her from her Great Work!

But yeah. That last one hurts the most because I love Hermione as an individual, as the very important third of the trio, as a potential partner for Harry (though this isn't the right blog for that!), and just as an iconic character.

I... think that's all? Yep. Thanks~!

#kosondroom #thanks for the ask!#fireandgoldposts #the golden trio #ironically I try not to use that tag much but I need it here #Harry and Hermione #I'm sure you can guess which ship I was talking about. I'm sure the whole world could #genuinely begging fanon Sirius(es?) to actually start dismantling the corrupt pureblood politics instead of bending over for them #as I've said many times by now I reeeeally just want to read new and better ideas in fanfic #and my job is hella stressful I can't be out here writing all of them myself #I sound like such a ''my canon right or wrong'' person in most of these asks lol. in actuality I love ignoring Certain Large Swathes #I just find certain ascended fanon tropes/headcanons in the HP fandom in particular to be either boring or aggravating #and thus I would like them to go away once and for all or for us all to Grow Beyond Them #how many times do y'all think I've read incorrect Obscurial!Harry takes? take a wild guess. you won't be in the ballpark #actually if you are a sane fan side note do not go on Quora answers. it will piss you off every day #me as usual saying ''stop making up shit to be mad at Dumbledore about 2023 there's already enough in canon''#make HP girls more unique and complex 2k23 #I'm tired of reading the same OC girl but with a canon name and a different house tie #''she said boomerly'' lmao #this is making me want to either sit down and write another time travel fic or finally sit down and write a harmony #choose violence ask game

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mielmoto · 10 months

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OKAY... inbox call thus-far: completed. i pray. 99% sure i sent those all to the right inboxes, but with how many tabs i had open the heavens only know.

#i'm sure if i sent someone something Objectively Incorrect y'all would've told me so. huzzah.#ooc.#i will ignore the fact that in my draft-dodging i have inevitably just doubled my drafts in the long term.#don't worry about it. (/don't worry about it./)#perhaps not all of them will become threads but i will gird my loins just in case.

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bloodgulchblog · 2 years

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Halo 5 to Halo: Infinite is the biggest mainline game gap in Halo so the consequences of that would be obvious but like, look:

It's ~44% of Halo novels in ~28% of Halo's years.

#do y'all want some useless halo novel numbers #do y'all enjoy my obsessive halo novel posting when my brain doesn't work for any other purpose #these years are sorta imprecise and order might be incorrect within years i only made sure they were right at borders between games

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minced-mangoes · 5 months

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Y'all think the brothers would have trouble with hugging you too tight? Sometimes they forget you're not a demon and squeeze you a little bit too tight.

Beel has definitely done it a few times by accident, he got too excited and squeezed without thinking. He's just glad you're alright. He takes care to make sure it doesn't happen again. He doesn't want to hurt you. Lucifer and Satan probably have pulled you into a very tight grab when upset, and used you as stress relief squishy. Depending on how hard they actually squeeze you it's alright. Though one time Satan hugged you so hard the air was knocked out of your lungs. It happens less often with Levi, Asmo, and Mammon, but it definitely has happened. Won a tough game with Levi? Hug attack. Meeting up with Asmo for a spa date? Hug attack. Say anything nice to Mammon? Hug attack. Average demon hugs too tightly factoid is incorrect. Hugs Belphie who considers wrapping his arms lazily around your waist as a hug is an outlier and shouldn't have been counted.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me lucifer #tomi's obey me au #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me leviathan #headcanon #hc

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blacksurvivalnostalgichanges · 2 years

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black survival characters as jelloapocalypse quotes

“what do you do to cope with stress” this

Adela: Ugh, it smells like a fish restaurant.

Adriana: You cannot tell me that the best way to move a body was to set fire to the embassy twice.

Aiden: Look it up, follow the money! Does True Lemon make Suprep?

Alex: Number one man on the FBI’s most wanted list? I’ll say....

Arda: Now hold on there, miss Paups, I know a little bit about being framed for shooting my own father.

Aya: The killer (hits table) is a human being! Unless It’s that cat! It’s a human or a cat!

Barbara: You don’t understand, I used Double Team six times! It should be impossible to hit me!

Bernice: “Not so fast! Mr. Prosecutor, what the fuck?” “Okay, fair enough.”

Bianca: I like how I say that like there’s other partners in this game, there’s just me! Hey Wes, hey Wes!

Camilo: “Don’t I deserve a chance to explain myself?” “No!”

Cathy: While all of this is going down, Wes not understanding Pokémon speak is just like “I love my cute doggos.”

Celine: “Why does he look so sickly pale all of a sudden?” “.....Gun!”

Chiara: “Agent Lang”- Laeng? Lahng? I’ll just change it every time. “Agent lasagna” “Linguini” “Agent Luigi definitely has an agenda”

Chloe: (boiling in anger but with a customer service smile) That was one CHALLENGING and SATISFYING BATTLE! Just- just look at this, my palms are drenched with sweat!

Daniel: “You’re gonna love this TV program I just found.” “This is just the evening news.”

Echion: “Speaking of.” “On cue.” “On cue.” “What the FUCK?!”

Elena: You know what they say. Sire a child, die in the wild.

Eleven: “I’m eating chocolate icing again, don’t do this.” “Stop eating chocolate icing, Siv!”

Eva: I would feel bad discussing Wes’ JRPGness because there’s another character we’ll meet before we leave this town that will put him to shame.

Emma: Hang out with other players in Co-op Mode! And only other players, because when you have a friend with you, all the NPCs in the world suddenly think that you smell!

Felix: I love this guy who’s just like, “you will not be able to get past me, I’m a very bad man! Come out, SPOINK!”

Fiora: You could be the one to give these women pants! Don’t Amber’s shorts look uncomfortable?

Hart: Spend hundreds of hours hunting in-game treasure and spending real-world currency to collect sexy anime characters with impractically asymmetrical outfits, oooh.

Hyejin: Green Pikachu is just standing in the middle of a hideout where everyone’s polishing knives and guns. “Oh, I’m in danger.”

Hyunwoo: “You gotta have a singing dog in here!” “All right, why.” “They’re called SINGING DOGS!”

Isol: “Sound/ground. How about a singing dog?” “Yeah, I think that’s a great idea! Fuck you.” (he starts laughing) “Why are you such a bitch?”

Jackie: I’ll be sure to credit you on Terrorism Dot Com.

Jan: “Can you shut up for like two seconds?!” “I Literally CAN’T!”

Jenny: Well, that flight sucked. One star.

Johann: Yeah, I’m Sosh. Short for Soshua.

JP: I’m talking shit and my name’s skrub?

Laura: “His tax returns show his name is Jumpluff-” “Don’t deadname people!” “wha- what????”

Lenox: “Oh my god, are you guys the terrorists? I follow you on twitter.” “We are NOT the terrorists-” “We ARE the terrorists.” “YAAAAAAAY!”

Leon: All right, of all things, I have to cuh- the Onceler is a TWIG, he has NO ASS!

Li Dailin: I just figured out what these taste like. When you get a colonoscopy-

Luke: “Can you try to calm down and lower your voice to a more reasonable level, sir?” “NO!!”

Magnus: Beating the shit out of children makes me feel better about myself.

Mai: By the way, did you know that Team Snagem backwards is Megan’s meat? Anyways.

Nadine: “Oh, she’s not the one with the Mightyena, is she?” “Yeah! My grandpa?” “yEah!” “Oh, we’re not blood related.” “Oh!” “You don’t say!”

Nathapon: Mayhaps this lore will be a bit more cheerful. ..... Oh. Oh no.

Nicky: Yeah, I got my team here, Ungabunga, Ahoyhoy, John, John 2-

Priya: “Your first mission.” (flower eating sounds ensue)

Rio: “Sorry, but I just stole your supporting role.” Oh. That’s a little bit too on the nose.

Rosalio: “Oh damn, y’all are still on this?” “Yeah! Yeah we are!”

Rozzi: A misunderstanding? Those NEVER HAPPEN in Ace Attorney.

Shoichi: Criminals have a way of incriminating themselves, wouldn’t you say? Ooh, my shoulder hurts.

Silvia: She just- pfffhgt- she looks BLITZED out of her MIND!

Sissela: Genshin Impact is the only adventure game that actively encourages you to beat up a child each week.

Sua: Oh, now you’ve unleashed the Quagon.

Tia: Remember how he said that in orange?

William: “Oh damn, y’all are still on this?” “Yeah! Yeah we are!”

Xiukai: Kay sure likes flesh!

Yuki: “That such a legendary prosecutor will be watching over and judging my performance... I’ll have to be perfect in every way!” (runs away whining)

Zahir:I do so hate to waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaste tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime.....

#immortal soul incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #eternal return incorrect quotes #read eva's and then echion. that's the joke #funniest moment of my life was giving william and rosalio the exact same one lol #what a summary of them. y'all are still on this? yes! we sure are!#some of these are more abstract. but i think once you get it it's pretty good

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luxthestrange · 3 months

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KNY Incorrect quotes#99 Red chicks

I love the idea some other artists have done of...Rengoku is surviving and helping out in Red District with you and the boys...

Man*Whistling at You and Inosuke*

Inosuke: What's up, money? You got a problem? What you looking at my ass for? No, yo, hold my boys!*Handing Tanjiro a zenitsu to you and Kyojuro*HOLD MY MANJIRO AND ZENTSU!-Eyo What's up? Y'all got a problem? Y'all want some of this? You want some of this, punk? What, boy? -l'll take the both of you!?!-

Kyojuro: Cut it out-

Inosuke: He was looking at my ass like I'm a girl!

Uzui: You are a girl! And you better start acting like one or you're going to be an unemployed girl-

Man2*Who is into...buff woman* Damn, I'd sure like to cut that cake~*Looking at Kyojuro*

Kyojuro:...

Uzui:...*Covering the eyes of the kids and backing away*

Y/n*Smiles, eye twitching cracking your knuckles, and standing protectively in front of Kyojuro who is in drag,Handing him your hairclip*Yo, hold this! Hey, you trying to look at her lumps? I'll pull off my G-string and handle mine!

#kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny #kny x y/n #kny x reader #kny fluff #kny red district #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x y/n #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x y/n #tengen uzui #tanjiro kamado #zenitsu agatsuma #inosuke hashibira #kny incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes

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whorekneecentral · 7 months

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As Red As My Stockings

Trent Alexander Arnold x Physio!Fem!Reader

Warnings: takes place in the '23 season (after the newcastle match but imagine it to be in November or something so it fits the timeline lmao), andy and ibou are so annoying towards trent, virg is over them, probably incorrect physio treatments, one teeny tiny hint to medical role play for like 0.2 seconds, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, trent is sooooo !!

Word Count: 2,519

Author's Note: our vice captain >>> anyways, this one was a bit random. hope y'all enjoy it :))

merry smutmas series

Trent’s crush on the pretty physio is well known amongst the players. They make sure to help him fulfill one last Christmas wish before you all head home for the holidays.

Liverpool FC had been your home for the last few years and in your time there, quite a few players had come and gone through your room. All of them were wonderful and talented and charming in their own ways but no one beat the boys you had now.

If you could give them a middle name, it'd be troublesome.

It's Tuesday morning and the boys were returning for training. Liverpool had played Newcastle on Sunday, leaving the boys with another 2 points added onto the board but were left without their captain after a red card.

Currently, their captain was laid on the bench in your physio room, the rest of the boys scattered through the training room - you can see and hear their noise through the glass panels that separated the two rooms.

"I don't even know how I did it," Virgil tells you, watching as you massaged the spot before he could join the rest of the boys.

"I'm sure you must have over worked it during your shouting match with the ref," you glanced up at the man, there's a smile on his face even though he's rolling his eyes.

Before you finish with the captain, the door to the physio room swings open. The younger players had a habit of hiding in there to avoid training, especially when they knew Virgil wasn't in.

In comes Andy with his arm over Trent, squeezing the vice captain in a headlock. Ibou comes running in after them.

They weren't aware that their captain was currently in there with you.

"Oh hey skip," Andy shouts to his friend, struggling to hold Trent in place. The man struggles, pushing Andy away from him when he realizes Virgil was in there. Ibou blocks the doorway, stopping Trent from passing.

You were taping Virgil's knee, smoothing the tape as he looked over at the three of them. "Why are you in here? Don't bother y/n, she's working unlike some people," he shoots them a glare, making you laugh.

"All done, big man." You step back, picking up the roll of tape. You look over in the direction of the other players in the room. "What can I help y'all with?"

Andy says, "Trent strained something in his thigh." Trent was glaring at Andy; if looks could kill.

You nod towards the empty chair, putting away the stuff you used on Virgil before turning back to him. "Need anything else?"

"No," Virgil shook his head, still laying on the bench as he scrolled through his phone. "I'll head out in a few."

"Okay," you smiled, walking over to where Trent now begrudgingly sat. Ibou was snickering in the corner of the room, leaning on the wall by the door.

"Ibrahima," you called, the man freezes at the use of his full name. "Do you need something ?"

"Just water," he says, rushing off to the fridge to grab a bottle.

Andy's got a hand over his mouth, covering his giggles. "Don't start before I kick you out too, Andrew." You look over at him and he presses his lips together, sliding his fingers across it and turning it; locking it up so he doesn't make noise.

Trent sat quietly, so still that you almost missed his chest raising and falling with each breath.

"Which one?" you asked, crouching in front of him. His brows furrow, looking at you confused. "Which leg?" You clarified and he raised his left leg slightly.

You nod, "can you pull your shorts up a bit?"

Ibou and Andy were giggling behind you and you can't help but look over at him, the two of them shutting up, or at least attempting to.

Turning your attention back to Trent, you touch his thigh carefully, working your fingers over the muscle and the man groans. You glance up at him, "there?"

"Your hand's cold," he says and you move your hand away. "Sorry," you say, rubbing your hands together to try and warm them up.

You put your hand back carefully, not wanting to freeze him again but when he doesn't complain, you find yourself moving your hand along his thigh to find the strain. Your fingers were soft against his skin, Trent was thinking of what other injuries he could fake to come in and see you, to have you feel him up.

"Trent?" You called, pulling him from his thoughts, "where exactly is the strain? I can't feel anything."

His cheeks are red, he's been caught. "Uh-"

"Look!" Andy's hunched over laughing and Ibou's leant back laughing right beside him. "His face is red!"

"Shut up!" Trent grumbles, looking away from you and you bite back a smile before Virgil speaks, standing up. "Yeah, both of you shut up and go back to training," he tells him, shooing them from the room.

He smiles at you, nodding as he ushers a laughing Andy and Ibou out of the room. You turn your attention back to the vice captain. "So the strain?"

"I mean.." he starts and you hum, waiting for him to go on as you stand back up. "It was more of a tweak than a strain. "

"Of course," you nod, knowing he was bullshitting you.

This wasn't the first time he had landed himself in your physio room with some non-existent injury. Trent thought you didn't know about his crush on you but you did; if the players did one thing when they came in, it was gossip - especially amongst themselves when they think you aren't paying any attention to them.

You reach for his shorts, pulling them back into place. "Well if this tweak comes back, come see me. I'll treat it." You tell him, a smile on your face.

Trent stands, nodding. "Thanks, y/n."

"Anytime, Trent."

He was off to training once again but you called for him, stopping him in his tracks. "Next time you wanna see me, just come by. No need to bring the whole squad with you." You give him a look, the man's face red as he nods, walking out of the room.

The afternoon rolled into the evening, the boys finished up their training and whoever needed to be checked out stopped by but for the most part, the place was empty.

You had stayed back after the rest of the staff had left, putting up some decorations for the holidays. You're up on the chair, taping the garland to the wall when someone knocks on the door.

"Hey," Trent calls, stepping into the room before shutting the door behind him. You smiled at him, getting off of the chair. "Hey Trent, you okay?"

"Yeah," he nods, walking over to the bench furthest from the door. You did a few things, putting away the tape and the scissors. "What are you doing here so late?" He asks, leaning on the bench.

"Putting up decorations," you tell him, back turned to him as you shoved the leftover decorations into the bottom cupboard. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

He shrugs, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his shorts. "I uh.. well there's a pain in my thigh and it won't go away."

"What happened?" You walk over to the man, "I can take a look if you want."

"Yeah, could you?" He says, watching as you crouch down in front of him. Trent can't stop himself, all the filthy thoughts flooding his mind. "Where's the pain?" You asked, glancing up at him through your lashes and he inhales, trying to control himself - the thought was there, he just had to make it happen, that's if you wanted to.

"Upper thigh," he whispers and you nod, rubbing your hands together which makes him smile, reminding him of earlier that day. "You're gonna have to pull your shorts up, Trent."

He nods, pulling the left side up and bunching it by the top of his thigh as you slowly start feeling over the area. Your fingers were soft but firm, his head tipped back and lips pressed together as you moved your hand a bit closer to the top of his thigh.

"Where exactly is this pain?" You look up at him, brows furrowed. Trent looks down at you, tongue passing over his bottom lip. "A little higher," he whispers and you finally get what he meant.

"Oh," you nod, moving your hand up further until it was near his cock. Trent glances down at you, watching as your hand rubs over the bulge in his pants. "There?" you asked quietly and he bites back a smile, nodding.

"Now why didn't you just say that from the beginning, Trent?"

"You're the physio, y/n. I knew you'd figure it out," he smiles when you stand. You hum, nodding. "So tell me," your hand still rubbing over him, Trent glances between the two of you. "What do you think is the appropriate treatment for this?"

"Whatever you think would fix it, hm? You're the professional."

You move, about to lower yourself onto your knees again but Trent stops you. "As much as I'd love to see you on your knees for me.. fuck, I can't wait."

"Wait for ?" You teased, letting him move you around. He rolls his eyes, bending you over the bench. "Okay then, don't answer me." You mumbled, fully well knowing what he meant.

Trent pulls on your pants, pulling them down, You can feel him shuffling behind you, his own pants tugged down just enough. The tip of his cock presses against you when he leans over, his hand on your hip.

"Can I?" He asks, his hips jutting forward just a bit. You hum, nodding but Trent doesn't move, "I need words, y/n. C'mon love."

"Fuck- please, Trent."

Your arms are propped on the bench, holding you up. Trent's hand slips between your thighs, fingers brushing over your panties and your head drops forward.

Panties pushed to the side and he didn't have to hear anything else, lining himself up with you before his hips dig into you. He gives you a second to adjust him before moving.

He smiles at the way your face twists in pleasure. “God, you're so pretty," he sighs, pushing your shirt up a bit as his hips dug into your ass.

Trent's hips dig into your ass, your hips are surely going to have a bruise tomorrow morning.

When you feel the tip of his cock press against a certain spot, your head falls forwards, his name falling from your lips. "Just like that," you mumbled, your nails digging into the leather of the bench. You could see the little half circles indents it left but you didn't care.

He can feel you clench around him when he does that, his hips ramming into you from behind again. "Like that, love?"

"Fuc- yeah." You nod, barely able to keep yourself standing let alone speak.

His hand on your hip slips down between your legs, reaching for your clit. He barely moves his fingers before your own hand reaches down to rest on his. Looking down, the outline of his hand pulls your attention, no matter how much you wanted to look away, you couldn’t bring yourself too.

He pushes you down forward the bench, you prop yourself up on your forearms once again. You can see the reflection of the two of you in the glass door across from you; Trent's behind you, a hand on your hip and the other shoved down your panties, you're a mess, begging him to keep going.

Now Trent's not the biggest guy but he was bigger than you, both height wise and he was broader than you - you'd never admit it to him but god, you thought about him often. How good it would feel to have him on top of you or for you to be on top of him, how you fantasized about how good his fingers would feel or better yet, his cock.

You didn't have to fantasize about that part anymore.

The knot in your stomach tightens, and obviously, you know the size difference exists but you’d never seen it like this. Trent towers over you and his large hand covers your hip. Your body doesn’t even block his hips from view when he fucks you.

Your eyes find his in the reflection and you don’t even have to say anything, he knows exactly what you’re saying.

Trent smiles. "It’s okay sweetheart, I know.” He whispers to you, thrusts getting sloppier by the second. The way you squeezed around him would send him over the edge just as soon as you did. "Me too," he tells you and you hum, "inside."

"Inside?" He asks, unsure if he heard you right.

"Please, Trent."

You had the man wrapped around your finger. Anything you wanted, he'd give you. All you had to do was ask.

The two of you in sync, his chest pressed to your back as you both came down from your orgasm. He rubbed your side softly before leaning down to press a kiss to your neck and pulling out slowly. He smiles to himself when he hears the whimper that slips past your lips when he pulls out.

It takes a second, the two of you slowly getting redressed. You leant on the bench behind you when you looked at Trent, his face red. "Want some water?" You asked, already walking to the fridge.

"Yeah sure. Thanks." He ties the string on his shorts, you pass him the bottle when he walks over. Trent takes a sip before he speaks. "I uh, I'd love to take you out for dinner before we head out for the holidays, y/n."

"Usually, you'd take a girl out to dinner before you fuck her like a whore, right?"

He chokes on his water, rubbing his chest. "I- yes of course."

You laugh at his reaction, wiping away the water from his bottom lip with your thumb. Trent's hand rests on your lower back, "can I take you on a date, you know a proper date?"

"Promise to do that same thing after?" You joked, nodding towards the bench. Trent laughs, nodding. "If that's what you want."

"Oh shut up, mr. I can't wait."

Trent's cheeks are red again, making you smile. Your hand rests on his cheek, reaching up to give him a kiss. "Yeah, I'll go out with you."

"Good," he smiles. There's a knock on the door before he gets a chance to speak again. "Are you guys done?!" Andy shouts from the other side of the door. "I forgot my charger in there!"

You and Trent exchange a glance, laughing as he lets you go, letting you open the door to let Andy in. The Scotsman looks between the two of you, the state of the two of you was a give away; skin all sticky, clothes wrinkled and out of place, Trent's face is red and you've got a bit of a wobble to your walk.

Andy laughs, wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh! You two soooo-"

"Don't even finish that sentence, Andrew."

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#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold smut #trent alexander arnold x reader #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football smut #merry smutmas xoxo

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bakugoushotwife · 7 months

Text

kinktober day fifteen: brat-taming kink

>>> god bless i love him so bad...brain rot for this plot...y'all should i make this one like a series fdskjkjgjkgj i swear to god i'm feeling this way about all my fics as of late!! this one has a lot of japanese symbolism and traditions included. i am not japanese and all my research came from different sources across google, but if anything is incorrect or insensitive pls reach out and let me know <3

>>> starring: suguru geto x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: brat-taming, history/pining between reader and geto, face-fucking (m!receiving) edging (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), breeding, degradation/praise, pet names, creampie >>> wc: 4.6k >>> event masterlist:

he didn’t love the idea, to say the least. he understands why a marriage is necessary. it humanizes him, makes him relatable, opens the door to more preaching topics. he didn’t understand why he had to marry his fellow sorcerer and old classmate—especially one as mouthy as you. you didn’t either, forced into it by the higher ups with hopes you could bring suguru back to the right side of history, not taking your feelings into the matter at all, not that you expected them to. but you’re sure they already knew you wouldn’t be able to complete this mission—perhaps they hoped for your death at his hand.

at one point, you were friends. now, you were about to become the unwilling misses geto, though even that was more complicated than it seems. you were the third musketeer back in the day. even shoko preferred to stay out of the boys’ shenanigans, sticking to herself or utahime, not bothered in the slightest to let you chase after satoru and suguru. you were closer to the latter, finding it easy to gang up on the former together. he entertained your wit and you let him try out new moves on you. you loved each other. that’s why it hurt so bad—still hurts to this day—that he left and turned into this. and now you’re stuck in the thick of it.

you make him beyond angry. putting aside your utter disrespect and disobedience, you remind him of nothing but conflicting times, things he’d rather not think about now that those days were supposed to be far behind him. you hadn’t changed a bit from the day he left, and he hates that even more. you’re lively and talented, your powers long abused by the very higher ups that contributed to his madness and the ones that leveraged you into this ceremony. when he was told of your engagement, he could have refused and had them find him a new wife. he could have killed them all and refused this altogether—he’s not quite sure why he said yes. he pulls on his hakama trousers, smoothing at the pleats as he racks his brain. he slings his haori around his shoulders, and he realizes a small part of him may have always wanted to marry you; he remembers fantasies of you in high school, recalling how badly he yearned for your affection. and he hates that more than anything.

he knows you feel similarly about him, hence all your acting up. you had been short and cold and almost satoru level snotty with him through the engagement parties and wedding planning and obligatory dinners. you have the nerve to sneer as you speak and look at him with nothing but disgust. he’s the one who should be disgusted with you. you chose to stay with gojo over him, chose that world of lies and injustice when you could have been enlightened like him from the beginning. it’s only fitting you’re his bride, really. it’s what he deserves, as retribution for your betrayal. and he would make sure to claim what was his on his wedding night. the servants come to get him as he shrugs into his montsuki with a new smug smile replacing what was a dreading frown.

you wore a red iro-uchikake. and you look like a dream he had when he was a teenager. it’s ironic really. he knows not wearing the more traditional and all white shiromuku was another one of your jabs, but the color red was more significant to him than white. it means life, it wards off all evils. perhaps you knew that too, and that’s why you chose the color, though geto remembers you wearing the deep blood color often enough through adolescence that seeing you in it again makes some of the tightness in his chest let off just a little bit, even as you avoid his eyes.

he looked magnificent. his hair had grown longer, and you had always liked to play with it before, but now it cascades over his shoulder in waves despite the top-bun halving the thickness. you could hear your heart pound. if you were to tell the second year version of yourself that you would be sharing a wedding temple with suguru geto, you may have cried from relief and happiness. but as you get closer to him with no guests to witness this other than the priest and a handful of temple ladies, you feel the coursing energy of excitement and nerves. you aren’t sure what to expect from him now that no one will be watching. you don’t even truly know how he feels for you. he has been making attempts to earn your favor, but that was because he had a crowd.

he takes your hand and smiles down at you like he did when you were much younger and much less conflicted over your feelings. it makes your heart flutter like it used to, and your eyes widen a bit at his gentility. the priest offers his blessings to the gods as you two stand before him, hand-in-hand. your mind races. how much of this is real? and even if he’s being genuine, does it really matter? after everything he put you through, all the things he had done, the things he wants to do, can you look past it all just to love him anyway?

the temple servants set up the sakazuiki. they space the three ceremonial cups evenly apart, and fill them with the richest sake. san-san-kudo. you bite your lip, hating yourself for your doubt. suguru gently pulls you out of your head and towards the table, to the binding ceremony of old tradition. he picks up the first cup, holding it to his face.

“you look beautiful, okusan.” he smirks over the cup, looking oddly satisfied with himself, like he knows something you don’t. he then sips the first cup three times, holding your eyes. you feel your body burn, looking down at the kimono you chose and back to him. his fingers lightly brush against yours as you take the cup. you feel butterflies.

“thank you, geto-san.” you tilt your head down to indicate your grace, thoughts fuzzied by his intense stare and old feelings bubbling up your gut. you sip three times, and he picks up the next sakazuiki. he chuckles, and you swear you see a little bit of light in his deep eyes.

“are you waiting for titles until the conclusion of the ceremony, anata?” he piles on the mulit-meaning endearment, passing you the second cup. you nearly choke on your sake.

“no. you look very nice, uchi no hito.” you take your final sip, and it’s geto’s turn to stammer. he expected a tsureai or muko, but the one you chose had so much meaning. your home, your person. that’s what you called him. he knew the shock and wonder had to show on his face based off of your smug grin whenever you set the cup down. you think you can toy with him, pull stunts with him. you’re much too bold—and he wants to hate it, he wants to smother that personality right out of you, but for now–he’ll let himself love it.

“this binds us through our love, wisdom, and happiness.” he says the words to bring you together officially, tying your souls together for better or worse. he sips from the final cup three times, the symbolism not lost on you, and passes it to you to do the same.

“this binds us through our hatred, passion, and ignorance.” you look him in the eyes as you take your drinks, and his dark pink lips stretch into a wide smile.

“and now you are mine. how lucky we are to be brought back to each other in this way.” he chums, taking the wedding rings from his pocket as the priest continues offering his prayers to the skies. you hold out your hand expectantly, and he arches a brow.

“nine is not a lucky number, perhaps we’re cursed instead.” you shrug, that same smugness tugging at your lips. oh, you’re going to drive him crazy. you give him hope and you pull it away, you jab at him and you’re so gorgeous that he can’t even be upset with you for it. he slides the diamond encrusted with black gems down your third finger, giving you a smug smile of his own. he can play dirty too. he extends the box to you and you pluck his gold band from it, sliding it slowly down his finger. the excitement builds in your gut as you become more and more okay with whatever this is. you always thought he had a point. the jujutsu society was so horribly fucked up–maybe he was right all along and you were the coward after all. i mean, where did all your loyalty get you? sold off to a dangerous man with hopes to shut you up for good? passed around mission to mission until your body barely functioned anymore? maybe you could turn a blind eye to all his indiscretions, especially when he’s looking at you with such affection in once cold eyes. you still hold his hand in both of yours, and he enjoys the warmth, but you’ve pushed and poked him just enough, these teasing touches part of them.

instead of a kiss to seal this union once more, he leans down to your ear. “go get changed. i like simple lingerie.” he all but purrs in your ear, sending shivers down your spine at the order. you were losing sight of yourself at a rapid pace. you had hoped to hold out longer than this. his lips tickle the shell of your ear and a soft gasp leaves you. you tell yourself to be strong.

“and if i don’t? you’d be lucky to sleep with me at all, husband.” you sneer, and again he doesn’t know what to make of you, but he’s dedicated to figuring it out. he leans up and tilts his head, analyzing the lust in your eyes and the shakiness in your hands. he laughs at you when he realizes.

“go get changed, little pet. we’ll discuss your guilt and attitude later.” he shakes his head at you, his gaze making you feel as if you were already undressed before him. he turns, tossing that confident smirk over his shoulder again for good measure. “red is your color.”

and then the temple girls are at your side, ready to escort their new geto-sama to her new room in the geto estate.. you allow them, trailing silently as you wonder just what he was able to figure out by looking at you, and what lingerie you would put on for him.

you choose a red babydoll dress. the sheer plunging neckline leaves little to the imagination and the tight fit of the lace leaves even less. it fans out from your body from there, the fluffy hem stopping just below your ass. seeing yourself in the mirror, perched perfectly at the end of the bed, you smile. you imagine that qualifies as simple, though you’re sure it will still make him crazy for you. you’re embarrassed to want that, to dress yourself up and present yourself to him just as he asked. your friends would be ashamed, namely one. but as the door creaks open and you feel an icy stare raking over your body, you can’t quell your excitement.

he hums approvingly as the door clicks shut behind him. he’s so grateful he didn’t deny this union out of his own narrow minded rage. he never thought he would see you again after you denied him the first time, but here you are, on the bed you two would soon share in his home, now branded with his last name— all wrapped up like a christmas present.

“sugurin–” the old nickname flies off your tongue in your haste, and a fondness glosses over the devious intent in his eyes. you clear your throat and tug the sides of your dress down pathetically. “i... actually don’t know what to say.” you blink in realization, painfully aware of how alone you two are. was he still the same man you knew?

“don’t worry, kibōchi.” he returns his own nickname, the way you squirm in your place at the sound of it wasn’t lost on him, though the name puts you at was in the same way it stirs you up. his desire returns at your doe-eyed stare, you trust him to some extent, even through your wariness. “i’ll start. you were assigned to marry me, no?”

you nod your head, now knowing he wouldn’t hurt you, not with the fondness in which he says your name. your core tingles as he approaches you, a scarily sweet smile on his face.

“good. thank you for your honesty, anata girl.” he nods, sliding his crested black kimono off, the only proper covering of your wedding remaining on his body, for your convenience if anything. “and you’ve been such a brat because…? which is it: you’re mad at them, mad at me, or mad at yourself?”

you furrow your brows at his words. it seemed he learned everything in just an extended look at you. “am not a brat.” you fold your arms in indignation, incidentally proving him right. he just shakes his head, chuckling again.

“look at you. you didn’t answer my question and you’re pouting like a toddler.” he lets his gaze drift down to your body just begging for his touch. he can’t help but wonder what you’ll like and what your favorite position will be and how fertile you are and what kind of drive you’ll have, all things he never learned about you when you were just friends. you feel his scrutiny and fight through your mixed feelings to respond.

“can’t it be a mixture of all three?” you sigh out shakily, deciding to stick to your guns even if you want him, too.

he clicks his tongue in consideration. “i suppose. but the sorcerers of your past no longer have any influence over your life. and you should be more forgiving to yourself, even if you are being a snot.”

you scrunch your nose up in distaste, hating how his words soothe your heart. “you conveniently left yourself out of that equation.” you fold your arms and it only pushes your chest out more. you’re impossible, and it’s hard for him not to smirk at you. you’re powerless, he knows and you know it—yet you fight anyway. it’s precious.

“i don’t regret leaving. i did the right thing.” he says, head held high. his devotion is moving, even when he looks at you with such a mixed bag of emotions. “i missed you however. i accepted this union to see you again.”

you can tell from his eyes that his emotion is genuine, but it still shoots pangs through your heart as you recall days spent in bed crying over his absence. you turn your head away so the influence of his obsidian stare couldn’t cut so deep. “you left me.”

“you didn’t join me when i asked you to.” he retorts, clenching his jaw at your argumentative nature. “i came back, just for you.”

“you came back to use me.” you spit, echoing the words of your other classmates. the look in your eyes is angry, this was something you genuinely believed. that infuriates him. “you were going to leverage me, until you provoked him.”

his jaw ticks again. “and who told you this, satoru? i would have thought you knew me best.” he sighs his disappointment, grabbing your hands. he pulls you off the bed, your knees buckling you into a stand—then he roughly grabs your cheeks to make you look at him. “or did you forget just how close we were? how deeply i loved you then, all the time we spent together? you’re the one who betrayed me. you were mine! mine, you were supposed to be mine and you stayed with him!” his voice rises just a bit with his frustration, but he drops his grip on you and steps back, “i would have done anything to take you with me. and everything…could have been the same, i would have kept you safe and away from this life. We could have had so much more time together—and you’re being so goddamn bratty now that i have you back…what am i to do with you?”

you blink rapidly at his speech washes over you. did he really mean it, that he just wanted you to have you? you were never intended to be used as a bargaining chip, and you let everyone else warp the vision of the man you once held so dear? you shake your head violently, rejecting the idea. he rakes his hands over his face, fed up with the back and forth. “i’ve compartmentalized you out over the years. but i have you back, and i refuse to waste any more time.”

“i’m sorry sugurin—i thought you hated me!” you defend, reaching for him. he grabs your wrists again and plants your hands on his chest, moving his touch to your face.

“then make it up to me.” he orders with a fervent nod, his hold on your face firm but comforting. you surprise him by leaning up and closing the remaining distance to kiss him, balling up his shirt in your fists. you were absolutely insufferable, annoying, bratty, and irritating—but he could do this forever. feeling you move with such passion, vigorously pulling at him and finally giving in to all those pent up feelings was enough to prompt him to do the same. he memorizes your taste for a while before he pulls away and directs you to your knees with his signature rough handling, though he’s still careful not to hurt you. “i want you to really make it up to me.”

you nod eagerly and shove your hair over your shoulders while he frees his waiting ache. he can hardly stand the sight of you on your knees under him, massive cock creating a shadow over your obedient and eager face. as gorgeous as you are like this, it was too late to make up for your transgressions. you salivate at the sight of his impressive length standing proud over you, curved and so long he leans to one side with a thickness you know will make even your throat burn. your mouth parts for him immediately, slick sliding down the insides of your thighs at the idea of relieving his drooling slit. “you’re gonna have to open wider than that, okusan.”

and he helps you do so, planting his broad callused hands firmly on each side of your face, bumping his cockhead against your puffy bottom lip and shoving himself into your silky walls. you moan out in surprise and relax your throat, making your new husband grin at the performance. He’s perhaps unintentionally violent as he sheaths to the hilt, your nose bumping against black coarse hair above his shaft. “there, there.”

he pats your cheek patronizingly, flicking away a tear that formed. “don’t cry, kibōchi. you were made for this.” he coos affectionately, body growing hot to the touch at his vision. he knew this was a great start to teaching you your place in life, and that being a brat was not one of them. running away was not one of them, you were permanently his and he would never let you go again. he pulls your head back off with that grip to use you, plunging your throat back down on him and biting down on his lip to keep his own sounds from interrupting your gorgeous gags.

“don’t you like this so much better than acting snotty, sweet wife?” he teases only slightly, taking your teary eyes flicking up to look at him as a yes. you can feel him deep, that burning sensation that you knew would come starting to sting your vocal cords. “you take me so well, i’ve always told you sorcery wasn’t for you. this is all you need to do forever.”

you moan at the idea, him keeping you home to take after the estate and maybe even caring for the kids you may have in the future. he chortles, pleasantly surprised by you yet again. “you think you’re clever, darling. acting all sweet now so i’ll forget all about your behavior, hm?”

he pulls you off with a lewd pop, pushing at the wimpy straps of your dress with a satisfied hum as the fabric falls away from your chest. “too bad. get on the bed.”

your heart raced, but you nod. your throat was too hoarse to speak anyway. you weren’t planning anything, you felt like liquid, you had given into your vows and let suguru take you mind, body, and spirit—and he hadn’t even touched you yet. you wobble up to your feet and he slaps your ass when you turn it to him, which makes you gasp and stumble forward. he hums, predatory narrow eyes watching you climb up and lay in the center of the large mattress. he wastes no time in positioning over you. he spits, thumbing his lube over your sensitivity. he pins your fluffy dress up over your stomach, lulling you into sweet moans, your high building in your stomach rapidly. he doesn’t know where to look, you’re all too perfect. the faces you make, your beautiful, slobber-soaked mouth pouting out all your pleasures, your gorgeous tits sitting so prettily in wait for him. then there was your weeping cunt, so pathetically soaked just from sucking him off.

“su–gu-rin~” you whimper out a little, your legs trying to close around his large body mass as the feeling becomes more intense. he hums, smacking your cunt.

“brats don’t get to cum.” he shrugs, licking and biting at the insides of your thighs to tease you further. your plush skin is so sensitive, and he loves watching the way you squirm to get away from his canines scraping your flesh. you gasp in anger, orgasm ruined the longer he refuses to touch where you need him most.

“brat?—you’re really gonna be mean to me, uchi no hito?” you pout, and he can feel his heart pang at the insistence and the sweet way you call him yours. you’re softening his heart already. he still had the want to punish you, but the need to claim you was surely fighting back.

“then apologize for your behavior or you won’t cum at all.” he sits up a bit, tossing some hair over his shoulder. you bat your lashes at him, knowing he was hurt by your choice, just like you were hurt by his. but now there was a chance to make it right, to be together forever like you were meant to–and if you had to apologize for your doubts in him, you would sing them loudly.

“oh—sugurin, i’m sorry! i really am,” his fingers squeeze and toy with your clit, making your body jump as you try to stutter through your words. “just mi-missed you, that’s all, was mean because i missed y-you!” you writhe and wiggle closer and away from his touch simultaneously, and he hums happily at your speech.

“that’s better.” he hums approvingly, pushing your legs up to your chest. he wants you to feel this as much and as deeply as possible. “such a good girl, did i tell you how beautiful you look okusan?”

you nod, feeling the well of nerves heating up in your core, his hands resting on your knees as he looks over the disheveled lingerie. “told me at the wedding…” you sniffle, wiggling your hips for his attention again.

“i see.” he frowns, as if disappointed by your answer. his hands feel your thighs and trail back to your knees, getting his hands closer and closer to where you needed him most with each pass. you whine desperately, and he hums out in fake curiosity, “what is it, darling?”

“need you to touch me—please.” you squirm, giving him those irresistible doe-eyes. he planned to make you beg much harder than that, but you had him worked all the way up, your body, behavior, and the history between you was setting him on fire.

“oh i’ll make you cum, kibōchi.” he moves his grip to the backs of your thighs as he moves his hips forward. you try to prepare yourself but it’s no use, he plunges in without any hesitation or resistance on your part. it aches, you clench down at the spread and his thumb comes back to your clit to rub the pain away. “but you can only do it on my dick. got it?”

you nod slowly and his hips set a pace. he’s so deep you can barely believe he’s allowed to fuck you like this, the pain melting away to a dull pleasure, different from earlier. his gaze is still white hot and searing, devouring every inch of your body. “you really are so beautiful, sweet okusan. my kibōchi turned perfect cocksleeve, yeah?” he growls into the space between you, his fingers digging into the fat of your skin so hard you know he’ll leave his mark.

that draws a moan out of you, loving the idea of being nothing more than a wife, his partner, something you never thought you’d be once you parted ways. the feeling of him rocking into your body is addicting, and now you know you are capable of looking past anything he’s done or will do just to love him anyway. you would throw all your morals away just for this, and he knows that too. “my pretty little okusan, trying so hard to pretend she didn’t want me. now look, the prettiest you’ve ever been bouncing on me.”

he leans over your body, deepening his angle and allowing him to pick up his speed. he watches the way your tits bounce at this pace, your eyes rolling back a little as you’re rendered unable to speak again, only lewd smacks of his balls against your ass and his feral grunts to be heard. his hand finds your throat, and his mouth drops open in response to your sweet moans and impossible beauty. you are perfect. he knew you would be, but your pussy was his personal kryptonite. “you feel so good, anata girl. you look even better, stuffed to the brim.”

he smiles at the double meaning. you are his darling girl, but you are also his exasperating brat. god, he always knew what to say. your jaw falls, gripping his forearms to warn him that you were close. “please—need to cum!”

he hums, nodding his approval, “then cum, okusan.” he commands, deep voice booming. his spine tingles at the idea of you taking your first round of his seed. his hair falls so angelically around his angular features when you open your eyes, it’s the final push over the edge. you choke out a moan, and then your nails are scraping at his biceps, his shoulders and chest, whatever you can get your hands on, and your release is rushing over his dick seconds later.

“are you on birth control?” he groans, feeling his cock twitch in between your wet walls. you shake your head, chest heaving deliciously. “good, let’s see how fertile you are.”

your eyes cross at his statement and his balls feel so heavy, squeezing tight and spurting out their contents against your womb. your head digs into the pillow and his falls back at the feeling of being so full and warm. he keeps his hips rocking, making you gasp with every stroke as he shoves his deposit deeper. You’re both panting when you look at each other, years of unspoken yearning and love being communicated between you. there’s a lot to catch up on, and a lot to relearn about one another, but one thing is certain: this marriage was fated, and not arranged.

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