Hey plzplzpzlzpzlz make a soft dom kenma brat taming x sub f!reader (timeskip ofc) tysm
tag list — nobody ( ask to be added / tell me what you don’t want to be tagged in )
cw: unprotected sex, slight overstimulation (reader receiving), slight hair pulling, no use of y/n, kenma calls reader “good girl, doll,” let me know if i missed anything!
carly speaks — so sorry if this isn’t exactly what you were expecting! this is one of the longest oneshots i’ve probably written in like one day, so hopefully people like it! uhmm yeah that’s it aha i don’t know what else to say..
you had been a brat all day. constantly begging kenma for attention from the corner of his eye despite knowing he was actively streaming, always sure to keep out of the vision of his viewers. you would tease him, run the ghost of your fingers along his arm, causing his face to flush at the unexpected, nearly ticklish contact.
he was almost impressed, in a way. impressed at the fact you were so willing to try and make him crumble in the shadows. so once the stream ended, and he saw you perched on the bed, he turned to look at you.
“you’re finally done,” you say cheerfully, acting oblivious to your former antics.
“mmhm.” he nodded, getting up from his chair.
“your face is cute when it’s red,” you tell him, lips quirking up.
“is it now? i think yours is too,” he responded, stopping in front of the bed.
“what’s that mean?” you huff out, adjusting yourself so you’re now sitting on your knees.
“it means i want to see your face flush under my touch,” he murmured, leaning close so his breath ghosted over your ear.
you moved to pull back at the contact, or lack thereof, slightly startled, but he grabbed your wrists lightly with his hands. “are you running?”
“..no.” you swallow, already feeling your face heat up in surprise.
“it seems like you are,” he tells you, pushing you so your back hits the bed. you blink up at him in bewilderment, moving to scoot back so he had room to get on the bed if he wished.
and he did. once your back hit the wall, he slotted himself between your legs, peering down at you.
“kenma-” you started, watching his face.
he didn’t let you finish. he tangled a hand in your hair, tugging your head up and tilting his head down so that you met halfway in a feverish kiss. you gasped against his mouth, and he took the chance to slide his tongue past your lips, leaning impossibly closer to you.
he could tell when you were out of breath, however. he pulled back, eyes dark with something familiar to you.
neither of you spoke. what could you really say? besides, you knew kenma wasn’t a man of many words. he simply did things. so, when he pulled on your shirt, you knew what he was asking.
you took it off without question. even if some part of you wanted to snap back, be bratty as you’d been all day, you knew he’d just force you right into submission.
“good girl,” he murmured, lips quirking upward. “decided you’d stop being bratty today?”
“do you like when i am?” you shoot back without a beat.
“hm. ask me when i’m streaming again and see my reaction,” he muses, already peeling off his own shirt lazily.
“did it make you that mad?” you ask.
“no. not mad. couldn’t wait to get off the stream when you started, actually. fuck, do you know what you do to me?” he breathed out. “you weren’t even wearing a bra today, hm?”
“no duh. i didn’t go anywhere today. didn’t see a need to.” you reply.
“jus’ makes it easier for me,” he hums.
“mmhm.” he nods, tapping your thigh as a signal for you to lift your hips. you do, rolling your eyes, and he laughs. “still trying to be a brat? i could fuck it right out of you. i have before,” he reminds you.
“doesn’t mean it’s gone forever.” you huff out, head tilting to the side.
“no,” he concedes, “it doesn’t. that just leaves me to deal with you every time.”
“you make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”
“it isn’t.” he tells you, carefully pulling off your pants alongside your underwear.
“not fair,” you tell him, and he quirks a brow at you.
“your pants are still on.”
“how perceptive,” he speaks dryly.
“mm,” he doesn’t respond verbally, instead shifting so he takes off his own pants underwear. “happy now?”
“very.” you make your tone just as dry as his was.
“you will be.” he doesn’t let you respond before he leans closer and uses one hand part your folds, slipping a finger inside.
the lack of a warning startles you, and you gasp. your back arches into his hand instantly.
“i haven’t even done anything. you’re already falling apart?”
“shut up,” you snap, yet there’s no malice in your tone.
“mm. rather not,” he hummed. you knew he was just saying that to fuck with you. again, with a lack of warning, he curled his finger deep inside of you.
“kenma-” you startled. what were you even trying to say? it was kind of embarrassing, how easily you were crumbling under his touch despite having been a brat just hours ago.
“so desperate.” he nearly laughed in your face, but he wasn’t being cruel about it. he found it amusing how much you craved him, but would never directly admit it until he was edging you on.
he slid in another finger wordlessly, curling the two almost in a rhythm. he watched your face, noticed how sweat formed on your brow, noticed how your face heated up even if it didn’t necessarily show.
“please,” you choked out. “please let me cum.”
“oh? where’d all that brattiness go? i haven’t even fucked you yet, doll.”
“doesn’t matter! i want you!”
“yes,” the word fell from your parted lips in a gasp.
“mm.” he didn’t respond, pulling his fingers out.
“why did you-” you instantly started, lifting your head to look at him. you shivered, nearly whining at the loss of your orgasm.
“because you were being a brat. brats don’t get to cum on my fingers. only on my cock, when i say they can.”
the words were sent straight to your core. you swallowed, watching as he carefully lined himself up.
“don’t be a brat again, yeah? at least for a little while. unless you want to get fucked like this again,” his lips quirked up.
it seemed to be a trend, the way he did things without waiting for you to respond, because he slid into you easily without another word. he watched you, just as you watched him. he watched as you clenched around him, squeezing like a vice — he watched as your lips parted, but no words fell. he watched everything you did.
he could tell you didn’t need to give him permission to start moving. he was almost lazy with it, the way he pulled out just to thrust back in. his pace was slow, and it made you quiver.
you were so close to release. so close. but he was being just slow enough that it didn’t matter, that you were left teetering on the edge, waiting for him to give the okay. you almost wanted to beg again.
kenma could see it in your eyes. in the way the way you rolled your hips against his, the way you silently pleaded with an almost broken expression.
he picked up the pace quickly, cupping the back of your neck with a hand to kiss you feverishly. you met hotly, tongues fighting one another as his thrusts quickened, almost as feverish as the fight with your tongues.
he pulled your hair lightly, forcing you to meet him even closer. so close that you didn’t even know that was possible.
“fuck,” he cursed against your mouth, voice low. he was close. his breath quickened, sweat forming on his brow.
“please-” you begged again, eyes wide.
“you think i’d still deny you? even after you’ve been a brat, i’ll still let you cum.” he forced out. “if you’re really that desperate.”
that did it for you. you came so hard you saw stars, vision nearly going white. kenma wasn’t far behind you. he stilled, breathing heavily.
his eyes were closed, lashes against his cheeks. he was so pretty like this, you thought.
“you okay?” he finally asked you after a few minutes.
“yeah.. yeah, i’m okay.” you breathed out.
