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octoberautumnbox · 11 months ago

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The Sultry and Pervy Soda in Apartment 307

tripleS Seo Dahyun & Male Reader (ft. Kep1er Seo Youngeun)

Categories/warnings: smut, voyeur, masturbation, buncha others maybe idk I forgor

Word count: 6.1k

a/n: thanks to @thewritingrowlet for beta, to @sinswithpleasure for making me get off my ass to write this, and to @midnightdancingsol for the more-than-welcome poking me with a stick y'all r awesome :DDDD

Street lamps flickered to life as the sun shone a golden hue across the sky. The festivities were just about ending and people were exchanging goodbyes and good nights, clearing out slowly – one by one, then pairs, then swathes of people vacating the increasingly empty street. It was a grand stroke of luck for you to move into the neighborhood right before the street fair, and the moving guys didn't mind too much about the tricky navigation and maneuvering once their plates piled high with biryani chicken and jasmine rice.

After helping stack up the chairs and fold up the tarps, and of course waving at the other volunteers, you spot a girl struggling with a particularly tall tower of dirty paper plates. You rush over to her to lend a hand, but unfortunately for the both of you, the tower topples over and a splattering of soy sauce covers her shirt.

“Ah, Dahyun-unnie’s gonna kill me…” she whines, and you rush for as many clean tissues still on the tables that haven’t been cleared up.

“You okay? Anything hurt?” you hand the tissues to her and start picking up the plates, in two piles this time. A cursory glance to her and you find a volunteer’s nametag on her upper left.

“Fine, thanks,” she says as she wipes as much of the liquid off of her clothes as she can, “but if you don’t mind, I need to get changed or else I’ll never get this stain out.”

“No worries, Youngeun. Just get your stuff sorted and I’ll finish up here.”

She smiles and bows just as you get up from the ground, and she rushes off without much more fuss. You drop off the trash in the proper bin, dust off your hands, and after the organizer’s reassurance that they can handle everything else, you head on off to your own apartment.

~~~

Your door clicks shut behind you, and you not-so-gracefully crash into your bed. After the week you've had and the stress from the move, it just feels right to bury your face in your hands and groan in exhaustion. Once you let out a particularly satisfying sigh of fatigue, you let your arms fall to your sides, spread-eagle on the mattress, and drum your fingers into the soft cushioning.

You stare at the ceiling, making vain attempts to distract yourself by thinking random thoughts: “Should I get ice cream tonight?” “How long has the window been open?” “Is the ceiling cream or beige?” “Why does jacking off feel good?” “What's Wooyeon been up to lately?”

The last one does give you an idea, and you reach for your phone to check. Their comeback is just recently out, and you have to say, in one particular fancam she looks a bit too good to not stare. The way her outfit hugs her body, accentuates her curves, shows off just the right amount of skin…

The video plays on, and you casually strip yourself of your pants and underwear. Sitting up properly, you intently watch Wooyeon's performance, paying close attention to her creamy-looking thighs, her cute, glazeable tummy, and her pretty, ruinable smile. In no time at all, you're rubbing your cock to her performance, as if she's dancing just for you. Every wink she does sends another spark of lust through your system, each jiggle of her thighs another wish that you were in between them and eating her out. You keep a steady pace as you jack off to the woman on screen, lazily moving yet dead set on blowing your load to her.

The song draws to a close, the confetti flies, and Wooyeon strikes her ending pose. You admire her body one last time, paying special attention to her cute chest. She bends forward ever so slightly, the perfect tease, before she flashes a show-stopping smile as the camera zooms in on her face.

You reach your limit, and in no time at all you're shooting your cum into your hand. You had the sense to prepare a roll of tissue paper in your room just for moments like this, and it's not like you'd be admonished even if you weren't living alone. Catching your breath, you reach for the tissues on the desk and clean yourself up.

A breeze wanders into the room, and you look up to find its source: the open window. Mentally curse yourself, not to let this sort of thing happen again and embarrass yourself. As you make to close it, you find, just across from your own window, another open one that frames someone else. The girl standing in her own room in the building next door has her eyes fixed determinedly on you, her head tilted, her lower lip caught between her teeth just a little bit, and a mysterious smile on the corners of her mouth.

Immediately you feel heat rise up to your cheeks, and you're sure you've just turned a bright red. The girl's eyes wander up to meet yours, and the smile on her face vanishes. Her expression quickly turns into shock, then she shuts her eyes hard before pulling her curtains closed. Remembering you're in the same situation, you pull yours closed as well.

If anyone was going to admonish you for anything, it would be yourself, for letting this happen to yourself – What a fucking idiot.

~~~

You rise groggily, rolling off of your mattress like a dolt, but you’re at least able to catch yourself before you hit the cold ground. The heat got to you, and the floor seems a much better alternative than your bed at this point.

Righting your posture and laying your head on the tiles though, you decide this is no way to spend the night no matter how cold they are. Stumble around in the dark for a bit, deciding that it isn't worth the effort to turn on the light, and just resolve to navigate around your new bedroom in an unfamiliar apartment before dawn. Good start to a new life, you joke to yourself.

“Ah, fucking shit,” you grunt in defeat, before getting up and making for your window again. You slowly pull apart the curtains, the rings clacking against the bar much too noisily for whatever time it is now, and open the window to finally let in a cool night breeze.

The air fills your lungs and nips against the skin of your back, forcing momentary goosebumps before it all settles down and your body relaxes. You head back to bed, considering maybe the blanket you brought down on the floor with you can stay there, when your attention is snatched by a strange noise.

Your eyes drift around the room lazily, but you can't find anything out of the ordinary. Just then, you hear a faint yet distinct set of words in a singsong voice from somewhere just out of sight: “Mmm, fuck yes, daddy…”

It jolts you awake, and the thought hits you. It's dangerous and embarrassing and not at all okay, but you have to know. Just a peek.

You freeze at the window, with nowhere else to look but right at her. “Yeah, it's good, shit…” she moans, seated precariously on her gaming chair, her legs apart and on the armrests on either side of her. She covers her eyes with her hand as her tongue goes crazy, dragging around her lips whenever she's not breathing heavily or saying whatever.

Her other hand works diligently at pumping a dildo into her glistening pussy, intermittently chanting “Just like that…” it seems whenever she hits a particularly good spot and her back arches forward off of the chair.

Her breath hitches and her back arches just a tiny smidge as she comes to her high. “Mmm… mmmmfuucckkkk– fuck, fuck, yes, hngg~!” Just then her body seizes, her hips jerk slightly, and she pushes her dildo as far in as she can take. She pulls it out recklessly and it's followed by a quick stream of her squirt, then a cream flowing from the freshly fucked hole collecting on the seat of her chair.

She lays for a moment just like that, out of breath and seemingly satisfied. She licks her lips a couple more times, savoring the feeling of having just came, vying to get her breath under her control once more. Once she's satisfied, she works up the strength in her yet-weak legs to start cleaning herself up: first the tissues for her cunt, then her seat, then she wobbles over to what you assume is a bathroom to wash up.

“... Fuck. Fuck.” You realize you just watched your neighbor pleasure herself, and she has no idea. However, your guilt never surfaces, never forms, having quite enjoyed the show. You can't think of anything else; her cunt is beautiful, slick, creamy, probably sweet to the taste, and if she sounds like that with a dildo, your mind couldn't race fast enough to think of how she'd sound with your cock.

A sharp gasp rips your attention back to the window opposite, and in it you find her wide-eyed and staring right back. Her mouth hangs open and her cheeks shine a bright red, and you feel the responsibility of breaking the stalemate falls on you and you alone. But what the fuck do you say in a situation like this?

You rush for something – anything – to try and salvage the situation, just one thing to say and hopefully be able to face her tomorrow morning like nothing happened. However, your words fail you, and blank after countless blanks are drawn from your head. Panic rises in your chest, your cheeks just as red as hers, and your eye contact with her becomes almost unbearably painful.

So you break it, albeit accidentally. Your gaze floats down to her flat tummy, admiring how her waist curves like the perfect handles to grab onto while you pull her onto your cock. Even lower still, and you find her exposed pussy, clean shaven and silky smooth to the eye, and for just a moment lewd thoughts intrude your mind once again: the images of her taking her dildo flash before your eyes, leading you to think that however good she felt would be nothing she’s ever had before if you had a shot with her. Inadvertently you lick your lips at the sight of her sex, and you swallow your spit to try and get yourself under control.

You finally snap out of it, and you notice her staring back at you with a common intention. She’s biting her lip again, her head tilted ever so slightly to the right, and she grips her lap to give you a better view of her pussy lips. Or, it could just be your imagination that she’s showing herself off to you. You’re pitching a tent in your boxers, “Shit, I’m only in my boxers,” and she watches you like her beautiful round eyes are all yours. You stay there for a moment, basking in the lustfulness of the woman before you, and you can only be sure she’s doing the same.

Her eyes widen again, a different emotion this time, and she takes a panicked look behind her. A bright light enters her bedroom from somewhere you can't see from her window frame, and she hurriedly pulls the curtains shut. Your show is over now, and you’re left with nothing else to do but shut your own window and relieve yourself with the memory of the pretty girl in the next building, half-naked and checking you out.

~~~

“This is stupid,” you scold yourself, “what would I even say to her?” The question lingers in front of you as your feet bring you to the building next door. “Hi, I'm sorry I watched you cum last night.” A poorly constructed string of words for sure, but it is what it is. You toss the thought around some more, but before you know it, you're face to face with the door to the apartment of the girl who you, for lack of a better term, watched cum last night.

Two quick raps on the wood, right next to the plate inscribed with “Seo Residence,” and you close your eyes. “I'm sorry I watched you cum last night, I'm sorry I watched you cum last night,” you repeat silently. Even with your hopeful attempts to make it sound less absurd, you know it's so irredeemably bad that not even the most heart-wrenching apology would make up for it.

“Can I help you?” The sudden voice shocks your eyes open. The moment you're dreading is delayed for a few more minutes, as the girl that greets you at the door is not the girl from last night.

“Hi, Youngeun, I'm from, um, the next building,” you stutter out, “I need to talk to, uhh…” and it occurs to you that you don't even know her name. You stare at each other for a good few seconds, when it finally ends with her connecting the dots.

“Ah, you're here for Unnie,” she concludes. “Dahyun-unnie, the guy from the street fair is here to talk to you.”

“Who?”

~~~

“There’s no point in pretending. I know you saw me, and I’m okay with it�� I liked it, even. Now, you either come clean and tell me what you saw, or I go around and tell people how you perved on the poor girl who accidentally left her window open on a hot night.”

You gripped at her bedsheets, your fingers just as tense as the breath caught in your throat. It was a good threat, you had to admit, and if only you weren’t on the receiving end, you’d even applaud her. Instead, she stood over you with debilitating authority and a venomous tone. Her smirk did you no favors, highlighting her alluring features, including her gaze as sharp as the edges of a ripped up tin can. She had you.

“Alright,” you surrender, holding up your palms in defeat, “I admit. All I saw was you on the chair, legs apart, dildo in your pussy. That’s all.” It only comes as an afterthought that you did technically watch her cum, but rocking the boat and adding new information unprompted seems like a dangerous move. Instead, you sit still, breath held, and wait for what she might say next.

“... Okay, I believe you. Your secret is safe today.” Hearing that, you release your breath and replace it with new air. Dahyun backs off and relaxes her arms to her sides, and fails to stifle a giggle at watching you fail to decompress. She saunters back over to her chair, the same one you watched her get off in, and crosses her legs.

Her thighs peek out from under her skirt, forcefully drawing your attention, and the pit in your stomach opens again: keep this up and she’ll have another card to play against you.

You make a feeble attempt to look her in the eye, and it works for a moment. Once you meet her gaze, you find the same mischievous smirk on her lips, still taunting or teasing you or just showcasing her amusement of the situation. The corners of her mouth curl upwards dangerously, and her eyes thin to scrutinize you as you shrink in the face of her earlier threat.

“Easy now, I said you’re safe today,” Dahyun giggles. She rests her chin on her hand, still decoding your thoughts with much more ease than you’re comfortable with; all she’s doing is looking at you and somehow you’re unraveling in front of her, getting pushed to stranger and stranger thoughts. You try in vain to find something to protect yourself against her latent mind-reading powers, but once again, nothing comes up. Your stuttering fills the silence of the room for no good reason; your handle on the situation shrinking weaker and weaker.

The only thing that takes up space in your mind is the memory of her smirking at you after her fat pussy lips were pushed apart, taking her sex toy like it was nobody's business, pleasuring herself while being vaguely aware that you were watching. It was a dangerous skill she was using against you, and for all the wrong reasons, it turns you on even more.

She suddenly rises from her chair, a hand on her hip once more, and you’re forced to give her all your attention again. She flashes an evil smile at you, one that you could never in your current clouded state ever read, and she places a light yet daunting hand on your shoulder. She inches her face closer and closer to yours, and in no time at all, you're out of space for backing away.

“I already told you I wouldn’t snitch. Why are you so nervous? What do I need to say to calm you down?” She finally takes a seat on the bed right next to you, and she less-than-gently shoves you so that you face away from her. Her fingers dance around your shoulders, finding tense spots you didn't even know were tense.

“Listen,” she whispers nearly right into your ear, “I won't tell anyone, but you have to do better than that. What exactly did you see? And what did it, erm, make you… feel?” Dahyun plants a kiss right on your nape, and then starts massaging your shoulders and back delicately. She lets out another giggle, but different this time: it's less one of manipulation and more of pure amusement.

The way she squeezes and rubs your muscles weakens your defenses even more. She expertly maneuvers her fingers, picking the flimsy locks of your psyche, toying with you like you're nothing. You're completely in the palm of her hand, and there's no way out but farther into her grasp.

“I… You're hot, Dahyun, and I wish I could've seen more,” you finally admit, just as your eyes grow weary. The calm colors of her wallpaper and the faint fragrances of her bedroom lull you into a dangerous sense of serenity. “I just thought… how good it would be,” her massage intensifies ever so slightly, coaxing out more of your confession, “to have you bouncing on my cock.”

Seemingly satisfied, the girl kisses you again on the nape, her lips lingering on the skin of your neck, and it sends shivers outwards, down your spine and across your body. Her arms come under yours and wrap around your chest, and her hands fall gently, non-threateningly, to your belt. She finds her way under your shirt, and she feels up your stomach in soft touches, as if luring you into a trap.

“I was thinking the same thing, Oppa,” she sighs, and before you notice, your belt clacks onto the floor and you hear your jeans zip open. “I thought about how a guy like you should never need to jerk himself off, especially when a volunteer is just next door.” Just like that, she's already stripped you of your pants, and you couldn't be more vulnerable. Dahyun makes her way to your ever-hardening cock, and she takes it in her hand. “Perfect… we're gonna have fun, aren't we, Oppa?”

She kneels on the floor in front of you, and she makes a show of licking and kissing all over your cock. Her plump lips meet your shaft again and again with each kiss, and every so often she takes short drags of her tongue on you to get some much-welcome spit on your cock.

“Fuck, Dahyun,” is all you could put together. Dahyun looks nothing like the type of girl that'd do this to some guy she didn't know, and yet here she is, sucking you off like it’s her sole purpose on this Earth. She shoots you a lustful look, and amongst the closing her eyes to savor your dick on her lips and tongue, she shoots you a sexy wink that nearly makes you fall in love.

In an effort to not blow your load too early, you grab her by the hair, strands tangling around your fingers and trapping you just as well as you’re trapping her. You pull her off your cock with a yank, and the sudden jerk of her head makes her choke on her own spit. She tries admonishing you, but between teary eyes and a momentarily scratchy throat, she can’t say much.

Use this to your advantage, jump at the opportunity to gain the upper hand. Stand as quick as you can, throw her onto the bed. Amidst everything, she’s unable to react, only fully grasping the situation after her last cough, when she’s laid flat on her mattress with a pillow beneath her head. Huh, who knew you had such good aim.

“Tough guy, huh? Never would’ve guessed; Youngeun sang you praises for being so sweet when she stained her shirt. Or was that your plan all along?” Despite the situation, she doesn’t try to get up or take back control. Instead, she blinks prettily at you, licks her lips, smiles a sultry smile.

“Accusing me of being a pervert, even though you started it when you watched me jack off first.” Hide the shakiness of your voice, reclaim the breath she so easily stole away. Your hands slide up her legs, from her calves to her things and finally to under her skirt. Find the garter of her underwear, tease her by slipping your fingers under. “Projecting, aren’t we?”

She lifts her hips off the bed to help you strip her, the slow rise of her ass and the clumsy reveal of her pussy lips leading you to believe maybe she’s still the one pulling the strings. Despite all this, your appetite grows as her glistening cunt comes into view, and all you can think to yourself is how much more delicious it looks up close. Ridding her of her underwear, there’s nothing else to do but to dive right in.

It doesn’t take long, not at all, before Dahyun is squirming against your tongue on her clit. She runs her fingers through your hair, settling on the back of your head. Not long at all, and it’s just a few swipes of your tongue against her sex before she holds you in place with her legs, her thighs you couldn’t get enough of earlier now like clamps preventing your escape. Your hands are firm on her hips, making sure she doesn’t get away either, and your onslaught finally begins.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be good at that–” she sighs, savoring the feeling of finally having another person get her off. She moans her love without shame; an audience through her open window is nothing compared to you right between her legs. A horrid sense of shame comes over her as she watches you watch her squirm and thrash from being eaten out: her face reddens, her lip quivers, her pussy leaks more and more to entice and keep you from leaving her forever. Never mind that she forgets that you need air to breathe; you almost agree that right now Dahyun is the only thing keeping you alive at all.

She’s starting to buck her hips, her thighs nearly crushing your head between them, her back arching to signal her impending release. Any moment now, she'll lose control and her floodgates will open; she'll threaten to drown you with her love, she'll tug at your hair and grind against your face as her orgasm overtakes her. Fight to keep her down, struggle against her thrashing to hold her hips steady. Your determination to receive the reward for all your hard work drives you: relish in the smoothness of her skin under your fingertips, savor the slick that she releases just for you.

“Mmf, fuck yes, please, oh my god, oh mmm–”

“Hnnggg– Aaahh!” Another voice interrupts Dahyun's, and her attention whips to where it came from. The door swings open behind you, or at least you hear it, as Dahyun squeezes you ever harder right as her climax arrives.

“Youngeun, what are you– Aaaaahhh!” She explodes right onto your tongue, and for a moment the world fades around you. Her nectar floods your senses with perfection you could never find anywhere else, the hauntingly succulent mix of sweetness and sin drawing out your own moans as she thrashes against her mattress. You force out more of her juices with relentless laps at her sex, while the frenzied pulling at your hair and pushing against your forehead tells you she doesn’t know what she wants past letting out everything she can.

It takes just a little while longer before she settles, and as she releases you from her legs you get a grasp of what just happened. Youngeun is unsteady at the door, a hand on the frame and the other still in her shorts. The look in her eyes is one of shock and embarrassment like you’ve never seen, and by the way Dahyun stares back, frozen and equally wide-eyed, you gather the situation at the very least isn't what they were expecting either.

Tension hangs heavy in the air, and neither of them move an inch. You're only still in the middle of recovering from having your breath taken away, but it grows more uncomfortable for you most of all. As far as you're concerned, they're stepsisters, and the younger one who thought you were sweet for helping her in the street fair just watched you eat out her elder sister and got off like some porn video.

Youngeun is the one to break the ice: “Shit, unnie, I'm sorry, I'll go! Just forget I was here–” before getting cut off herself. “Hey,” Dahyun reigns, “sit.” She motions her sister towards the gaming chair, and Youngeun, judgment clouded with fear, takes sheepish steps to approach it.

Dahyun pulls you up to her eye level, keeping hands on your cheeks, and meets your lips with hers delicately. “Mmm, bet that was just as good for you, huh?” She runs her tongue over your mouth to lap up her spent essence, and you meet her halfway, deepening the kiss.

Still, the presence recently known is now a presence impossible to ignore. Despite Dahyun’s love spreading from her lips to yours, her heat bringing your temperature up all the same, you can’t help but be wary of the girl on her gaming chair taking after her sister, legs on the armrests and fingers in her dripping cunt. Dahyun tries in vain to pull your attention back to her, only her, and how could you resist either one?

“Mm, Youngeunie,” she sings, breaking away momentarily, “behind you, on the right, top drawer, it’ll help.” She returns to the kiss as easily as drawing the curtains to show you, while off to the side you hear the shuffling friction of wood against wood as her sister pulls out the drawer.

“Unnie, this is…” she says, but the thought is lost and replaced with a prolonged moan. Dahyun slips her tongue into your mouth, grunting as she feels your cock throb against the lips of her puffy cunt, coating your shaft with her liquid heat and coaxing you into a worsening state of mind. Her pussy quivers against the underside of your cock, chipping away at your common sense, until…

Meet your forehead to hers, make sure she stays how she is. Your left hand wraps around her neck, controlling her air and keeping her still, while your right dips into her sex to draw out her slick for you. Stroke your cock at the evil you’re planning, line up your tip to her entrance, and with absolutely no warning, no mercy, no reprieve, push your head past her welcoming glistening lips and into her tight, loving pussy.

“Mmmm, fuck, shit, oh– Oh my god, oh my god!!” Dahyun’s pleasure comes in the form of unsteady grunt and weak scratches against the hand on her neck. Her face takes on a light shade of red, her forehead creases, and her tongue is only nearly starting to stick out. Her pussy squeezes around your cock like it never wants to let go, her tightness driving you crazy with how good she feels, that you maybe wouldn’t mind putting a fucking baby in her.

Your hand leaves her neck and immediately she pulls you down to kiss the bruises you almost left there. Keep pounding into her, feeling her slick all over your cock, throbbing hard and hitting her good spots while sliding in and out of her pussy like it was all yours.

The moment her fingers relax then tense in your hair, you’re given just enough freedom back to see what’s gotten her so distracted, only to find–

Youngeun slumps further back onto the chair as far as she can without falling off. Her toes curl in the air as she diligently and roughly pumps the dildo in and out of her own cunt. Her top is pulled over above her chest, and she pinches and tweaks her nipples nonstop while cupping and squeezing her tits. “Unnie, unnie, fuck, he’s so hot…” she moans, dead-set on fucking herself with her sister’s dildo to the sight of you railing her beloved unnie.

“Fuck, Youngeunie, you’re such a pervert for getting off to this…” Dahyun again lifts her back off the mattress, and you know by now what this means. Her grunts turn erratic just as quickly, her pussy clenching tighter around you, practically begging you to stay inside her.

“Hngg, unnie, h-how good is he? I bet he f-feels so big…” “He really fucking is,” she sighs, waiting for the inevitable, slowly letting her sensibilities go. Her lips crash onto yours once more, slipping you her tongue like retaking its rightful place in your mouth. The sight of it causes you to throb inside her again, and amidst the thrusts in and out of her cunt along with Youngeun's own jerking off to your side, you feel your time's drawing to a close.

Make the most of it, who knows if you'll ever get this chance again. Pull Dahyun up to sit on your lap, force her to bounce on your cock. She follows like a good girl; savoring how you feel inside her, making sure that your cock is snug and comfy between her tight, slick walls. Your hands slide under her top to grope her chest, and she lets out a sultry moan of approval at how you're handling her so well. Her nipples are taut and hard against your fingertips, and the circling around her sensitive mounds only does you favors as she gets wetter and wetter, taking your cock like a champ.

“I can't fucking take it anymore,” she grunts out loud, and in one swift motion her top leaves her body, exposing all of herself to you. Before you could even dive in yourself, she pulls you onto her chest, and as soon as you're able to, you get her nipple in between your teeth. Her boobs bounce against your face as she rides you even harder, desperately chasing her own release, seeming to forget everything and everyone else.

“Fuck, fuck!” Youngeun switches hands; poor thing must be getting tired. A quick look back over to her and you find the dildo covered with slick and cream, her pussy red and puffy, her nipples sore and just as hard as her unnie's, and her eyes near tears. A quick bout of desire to get off to the sight of her overcomes you, but Dahyun tears your attention back to her, switching to her other nipple, just as she starts grinding against your dick like she found a better spot to hit inside her.

“Unnie, I-I'm close, please, you’re so hhhhot,” the younger begs in reckless need. Her toes curl and uncurl in weary need, tears starting to streak down the sides of her faces, just as her hair sticks to her forehead at the drops of sweat only starting to form enmasse.

Dahyun pulls you away, back to her, and rests her head on your shoulder, “Oppa, I’m close too,” she says with incessant sighs and gasps, curiously in sync with her bounces on your cock, “i-indulge me, would you?” She looks at you with the same weary love, the same tired, impatient persuasion.

Steel your resolve in the face of her begging. You’re finally in a winning position, with the pretty neighbor girls in the palm of your hand. A different emotion seeps into your head, one of responsibility: to finish what you started, to make good on your promises, to show both of them a good time. Dahyun’s half-lidded eyes flutter open and shut with every suckle and bite at her breasts, while Youngeun’s thighs jiggle with every forceful jerk of her hips against her toy. They’ve had enough, and you’re reaching your limit too.

“Keep your window open, got it?” A surge of confidence laces your voice at the most unexpected time, and brings out a lustful groan from the girl on your lap. “Yes, oppa, watch me all you l-like…”

“Good girl. And you,” your attention shoots to Youngeun, who you find has her lower lip between her teeth and nearly drawing blood, “you’re fucked in the head for getting off to this, but I kind of like that.” Upon hearing it, her eyes shut as she pistons her dildo as hard and fast as she can into her pussy, screaming “Fuck, oppa, please! Watch me too!!!”

The perfect opportunity reveals itself, the strings pulled taut against both of your puppets in a cruel dance for your pleasure. A bite on Dahyun’s neck and a mind-numbingly deep thrust into her sex is the last straw to finally send her over the edge as well.

“Oh shit, oh shit, I’m cumming!!!” A beautiful cry rips across her throat, and her pussy squeezes tight around your throbbing cock. Her juices flow out of her cunt generously, spraying all over your lap and the bedsheets underneath you. She buries her face into your shoulder, her teeth finding and marking flesh where her lips surround. Dahyun constricts around you, her body seizing and gripping onto you tight as her hips jerk with every stream of her girlcum that sprays out her sore cunt. Her fingers dig into your back, in no way hard enough to draw blood but only as hard as to leave marks, while her legs wrap around your waist in dire need to keep you in place and draw as much of her pleasure as she humanly can from you.

“Hngg, hahh, haaaAAAHHH!” Off to the side, Youngeun’s climax crashes over her as well, causing her toes to curl and her eyes to shut as hard as she can. She twists and turns the toy inside her pussy, hitting her good spot again and again as her cum gushes out of her in messy streams down onto the seat of her chair and floor in front of her. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and her tongue hangs free from her mouth, her ass jiggles with every jerk of her hips forward, and a prolonged and mindless moan snakes its way through her throat like music to you and your partner’s ears.

After all this, Dahyun’s whimpering finally brings you over the edge too. Her weak cries are the signal of her surrender to you, and what better way to claim her than to give her what she wants? Your grip on her waist tightens, and surely your handprints will stay on her sides for her to admire and recall when she misses you, but for now you keep her still just as she does to you. One last thrust into her is all that’s left, hit her good spot one last time, and it all comes crashing down. You erupt into her pussy, filling her with a burning heat that spreads through her entire fertile body. Each spurt of cum forces another groan of love from her, and she savors the feeling of being filled with your seed like it’s what she was made for. Your forehead meets hers and you capture her lips, and more of her tiny grunts and sighs slip through as your tongues dance around each other.

Once it ends, and you feel your cum stream out of her from the sheer amount alone, you crash sideways onto her pillow with her. She stays wrapped around you, breathing heavy and looking satisfied, just like her stepsister on her chair just a few feet away. Youngeun catches you waving her over, and she takes the spot on the bed opposite her unnie to cuddle up next to you as well. Dahyun snores quietly on your left, while Youngeun snuggles your chest to your right, and with two of your pretty neighbors bare and spent thanks to you, you drift off to sleep with them knowing you’d always enjoy a show the moment you ask.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #triples smut #seo dahyun smut #seo dahyun #triples dahyun #kep1er smut #seo youngeun smut #seo youngeun #kep1er youngeun #fic box

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stellar-waves · 4 months ago

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fixer upper

. . .

[ boondock saints : murphy + fem!reader ] fluffy february : prompt 27 ⚠ warnings: shitty knowledge about plumbing and fixing a sink, Handyman!Murphy, Murphy's got a nice ass, established neighbors, canon-adjacent-ish? idk A/N: So close I can taste it! One more and then Fluffy February will be done—in mid-March but who's counting? 😂 I would've been done sooner but my Murphy-muse hit me hard re: his upcoming OC series so...yeah. Stay tuned! 🩵

. . .

Just when one thing gets fixed, something else breaks. But that was to be expected in your little apartment. And it’s not like there’s an actual maintenance guy on call, not since this place is technically illegal loft housing. So of course you and the other tenants are left to take care of things yourself.

As much as you pride yourself in being a handy girl, unafraid of DIY projects because you grew up helping your dad fix things around the house, some projects required more than two hands—or arms stronger than yours.

Fortunately, you have Murphy. That sweet, quiet, dark-haired Irish boy that lives across the hall. His brother, Connor, will also help sometimes, but Murphy is the one you can always count on. Murphy is the one that makes your heart flutter anyway.

You watch him crank the wrench around a pipe joint underneath your leaky sink. You can’t help but stare at the way his arms flex, the sheer concentration in his narrowed blue eyes as he loosens the faulty piece of piping. You’re quick to hand him the small plastic bucket to catch the water that had settled in the pipe, refusing to flush out once he had turned the water line off. Murphy, unfortunately, still gets wet, though, as his dark gray t-shirt shows a few splatter marks across the right side of his chest. He waits for the water to stop dripping into the bucket, then pulls the curved pipe section off completely, setting it beside him.

You take the bucket of water and dump the rest down the shower drain, hoping that it doesn’t go on to leak into someone else’s apartment. Though, you wouldn’t be surprised if it did—shit like that happens all the time. At least this time, this problem is fixable and within your control. Or rather within Murphy’s control, since he knows more about plumbing issues than you do.

Once the new pipe section is installed, Murphy crawls out from underneath, turning the water line back on before he slides out of the cramped space completely. He stands up and twists the cold tap to run the water. After a couple of spurts and burps, water flows out of the faucet like normal, but then Murphy leans down to check his handy work.

You fight a smile as you stare at his blue jeans pulled tight against his backside. And then you fight the disappointed pout as he stands up again, a proud grin stretching across his grease-stained face. “Lookit, lass! It’s fixed!” He looks and sounds like a little kid, and now you can’t stop the smile forming on your lips. Murphy’s brow furrows slightly. “What?”

Stifling a giggle, you lick your thumb and reach up on his cheek, rubbing away the streak of grease he had inadvertently painted on himself when he wiped the back of his hand on his face. “Sorry, you just got a little schmutz there.”

Murphy chuckles, blushing under your touch. And even as the grime disappears off his skin, you keep rubbing your thumb over his cheek. His smile fades, but his gaze intensifies, mirroring the heat now flushing your face.

You’re not sure who leans in first—all you know is that the moment your lips crash against Murphy’s, you never want the kiss to break.

. . .

#⌇waves of stories #fluffy february #fluffy february 2025 #murphy macmanus x reader #boondock saints fanfic #murphy macmanus #the boondock saints #norman reedus #fanfic

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disassembly-required · 3 months ago

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Can't add images to replies so, following up with @oldmanjenkins985 in the comments of this post, I noticed some compelling symbolism with the mirror. And even more. Honestly the entire staging is ... thoughtful gorgeous more than I even realized..

Edit: tumblr mobile did the thing to me where it ate my embedded link and I didn't even notice :[ this analysis is a follow up to comments on this post:

For reference, this is the wall the mirror is on (from episode 2)

The mirror is seen again in episode 4 during V and N's chat, however, the scene does not show that wall of the pod whatsoever UNTIL N questions what he and V are. Only THEN, V turns towards the cracked mirror, and we see her reflection as she says, "promise me you and that purple thing will stop prying into that stuff?"

It zooms in shortly after as she continues "if you free me now, I promise we'll only kill what we need to survive" (and there's a splatter of blood on the upper left of the mirror, which is visible in the previous screenshot, but even more so zoomed in)

She finishes her sentence turning back towards N (putting the mirror out of sight), says "just you and me N" as she taps the lock on her chains.

Then, the camera frames the two of them like this as V looks towards the key. The mirror is seen in the background, between V and N. (But not dead center between them. Note the direction the wall is facing, facing the mirror towards V specifically)

After this scene, the plot jumps back to Uzi for a bit (this is when she enters Doll's apartment, who directs her to the bathroom, and Uzi heads in that direction.)

Then when we jump back to V and N, it picks up right where it left off:

And that's the last we see of the mirror in this episode (and I think ever?) It's not shown again when N makes an appeal for V to tell him what she's hiding, nor when she cuts his head off, nor at any point when he wakes up in the later seen and rushes out.

It's crazy how I never noticed this before, like how deliberate the staging was through that whole exchange!

To summarize some of the significance/symbolism I'm interpreting here:

We see the mirror (which, as jenkins' diligently pointed out in their ask, visually looks like it came striaght from the manor) again as a symbol of their history.

First, N is suddenly questioning said history. The mirror then appears to us when V turns away from N and towards her own reflection in it instead. She knows their history and she is hiding it from him. She's avoiding him (she has been for a long time), because she is still, in a way, is controlled by the past. A past that is.. well, I think the shattered mirror kinda speaks for itself haha

A notable detail is during this entire exchange, ONLY V's reflection is ever seen in the mirror. Obviously only she looks into it, but as I pointed put before, the direction of the wall makes it so that the mirror ONLY faces her. It's a little blurry to see in the background but, you can in fact make out only V appears in the reflection. Not N. N is never included in the reflection here. He is not trapped in the past.

When the camera zooms in on the mirror/V's broken reflection, she says a VERY key thing that will not come up again as a core theme of V until way later. She says "if you free me now-" and tries to make a promise they'll only kill what they need to survive together.

Obviously the context of the scene, she's asking N to free her from the the chain he locked her up with. The deeper meaning I'm getting at though, is that what's really trapping her in the grand scheme of the story is her past (and we see that later, right? Can you set me free can you take my soul awayyyy~) but even her request for N to free her from anything at all is empty.

1) he can't free her from the past because she won't let him in, because she keeps avoiding him and lying to him. He tries though, he offers to figure things out together! But she refuses and incapacitates him instead because,

2) she was lying even then. The chain was already broken. She pretended it wasn't, and that she was giving N a choice. She wanted him to accept her lie because it's always been easier for her, and in her mind, for him too. But she would sooner choose hurting him, and telling herself it's what's best for him.

(Sidenote it bothered me all this time that at the end of this scene, V flies off with the chain still attached to her neck and without the dress, but of course she's later wearing the dress and no longer has the chain. I was like "uh well I guess she realized she forgot her dress and went back for it, and grabbed the key while she was at it? Weird thing to do off screen instead of her just taking it with her. " But now I think I understand that her leaving N behind while still having the chain around her neck was a piece of symbolism worth keeping in more than detail nitpicking haha)

But really the only person keeping her tied down was herself. In that scene when she pretended she was subdued by N in a literal sense (the chain), and her whole hangup with herself and why she can't move on, she's told herself the entire time she was doing in for N, because it's what HE needs, and in that way, she is emotionally subdued to him.

But she wasn't! She never was! Her prison was her own making the entire time. The idea that she needed to sacrifice herself for N was her own making too.

This is why LATER when it actually comes down to V's freedom, it involves her finally letting go of her broken history with N (cutting the elevator to send him forward without her), in a sense setting him free too. (And a big part of that was V finally trusting Uzi, like, Uzi as a person in and of herself, and as N's companion, but that's for a different analysis post cause there plenty of meat to that too haha) and to be clear it's not V completely letting go of N as a person or caring about him or being his friend. It's specifically letting go of the past she had with him that he has long moved on from (some by choice, others by circumstances out of his control), because that past she was holding onto was the very thing holding him, and herself, back. It's why she hurt him and lied to him and convinced herself she had to.

She always had the choice to free herself! Just like in the setup in episode 4! She finally made the choice in episode 6! She finally accepted it.

Thank you @oldmanjenkins985 for inspiring me to fall into this analysis rabbit hole (and I'm sorry that... none of it actually answers where the mirror actually came from in the first place)

#analysis #murder drones #serial designation n #serial designation v

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aurora567 · 9 months ago

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Day 9 Impact play - Sanzu/Chizu (Tokyo Revengers)

Warning: drug use and some abuse in this chapter. Or just you know Sanzu is his own warning.

Summary: Welcome to day 9 of kinktober. I am sick and have fallen behind on posting and honestly I barely remeber what I have wrote the last days so I will come back and edit stuff when I am not sick.

Word count: 1743

Last Day next day

The sun had just begun to set, casting an orange glow through the windows of Sanzu's stylish apartment. Chizu followed Sanzu back to his apartment after having just finished killing a few men who thought they could sell drugs on Bontens territory. Chisu could still feel her heart racing, adrenaline still pumping from the thrill of the kill. Blood still splattered across her left cheek. Both were aware of the simmering tension between them, an electric current that had been building ever since they started the job.

Sanzu barely got his shoes kicked off before he was walking into his living room. His right hand is already digging one of the baggies out of his pocket. Those pale blue eyes of his eyeing up the pills inside. He probably didn’t even know what the pills contained. But Chizu knew it would not matter, Sanzu would take them no matter if they were uppers or downers. Honestly he was an idiot. If anyone wanted to kill the man the easiest way would be to fill some pills with rat poison and the idiot would swallow them without a second thought.

She kicked off her heels before she was following after him, her stocking clad feet almost silent against the hardwood floor. She watched him tilt his head back and drop three of the strange pills into his mouth. How someone could swallow pills with no drink she did not know. And she was not about to ask about it.

Without a word one of his arms shot out towards her pulled her close to him, his hands sliding down her slender waist, and onto her firm ass. She gasped softly as their lips met in a passionate kiss, tongues entwining in a dance of lust. His hands roamed freely, exploring her curves through the thin fabric of her blouse and skirt. Chizu's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if that was possible as their tongues danced together.

As the kiss deepened, Sanzu's hands became more adventurous. Slipping under her skirt and gripping at the back of her bare thighs before they were sliding up and pushing her skirt up with his hands. Chizu's breath quickened, and she arched her back, pressing her body against his. Sanzu's fingers teased the flesh of the bottom of her ass cheek before moving up to cup her ass in his palms. The groping did not last long before his hands moved to grip her stockings and with a swift motion, he ripped them off. She could hear the ripping of her poor pantiehose.

She wanted to ask him what the poor things had done to offend him. But she probably knew the reply she would get. And after all he was still running in the high of a finished job and killing people. Add the drugs he had just taken and she knew the man was in no state to give any shits about her. Next his fingers were grabbing at her panties, ripping the material down and leaving her completely exposed with her skirt bunched up and her panties falling to the floor. She gasped, not at the sudden exposure, but at the raw desire she saw in his eyes that had yet to glaze over with a high.

"You're mine, Chizu," Sanzu growled against her lips. "And I'm going to take what's mine."

Chizu nodded her head silently at him. After all, why argue with him? He was right, she belonged to Bonten. And so she belonged to him. The only person more important than him was Mikey. Her eyes glistened with a mix of arousal and anticipation. She wanted to please him, to submit to his every desire. As if reading her mind, Sanzu spun her around and pushed her against the armrest of the couch. Her skirt was already up around her stomach and with her being bent over it revealed her perfectly round ass to him. His calloused hand caressed it gently, his touch sending shivers up her spine.

"Every time my hand touches your beautiful ass, you will count," he commanded, his voice laced with authority and left no room for her to argue with him. Her heart raced as she felt the first stinging slap on her right cheek.

"One," she breathed, her breathing already picking up.

Sanzu's hand came down again, this time on the left cheek, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in its wake.

"Two," she whispered as she already felt breathless and he had surely just gotten started.

The spanking continued, each strike igniting a fire within her. Her ass grew warmer, the sensation of pain and pleasure blending into an unique ecstasy. She counted as each strike connected with her skin. Her voice grew louder with each number.

"Seventeen! Eighteen!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mix of pain and pleasure.

Sanzu paused, his hand hovering in the air.

"You're enjoying this aren't you? You little slut," he asked, his voice low and dangerous as he degraded her.

Oh it was so hard to bite back the urge to smirk at him. He was right, she enjoyed every slap of his hand against her ass. And the moans she let out with each spanking completely gave it away.

A dark smile spread across Sanzu's face pulling at the diamond scars in the corner of his lips. He knew he was right and her staying silent answered his question while being slightly bratty and disobedient. He delivered two swift smacks, one on each cheek, bringing the count to twenty. Chizu's ass was now a bright red, a testament to the fact that he had not held back at all. She would surely struggle to sit down now for the next day or two.

"You've been a very naughty girl, Chizu," he whispered, his hot breath against her ear sending shivers down her spine, "Now it's time for your punishment to continue."

He stepped back, taking a minute to admire his handy work that coloured her ass. His eyes tracing the curves of her body, from her perky breasts to her swollen, wet pussy lips. His fingers worked at the zipper of his pants while he stood there staring. Chizu stood there, trembling, her breath coming in short gasps as she was forced to await for his next move. Surely by now the pills he swallowed were taking effect. He was always unpredictable, but now even more than normally.

Sanzu's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he took in the sight of her aroused state. He knew she was needy, her pussy glistening with desire. She was nearly creating a pool on the floor between her feet. Without warning, he plunged two fingers deep inside her, eliciting a loud cry of surprise and pleasure from Chizu.

"Oh fuck!" she exclaimed, her body jerking with the sudden invasion.

Sanzu's fingers worked their magic, curling and thrusting, finding her sweet spot with ease. He knew her body way too well by now. Chizu's legs trembled, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she struggled to maintain her sanity among the pleasure.

"Please, Sanzu," she begged, her voice hoarse. "I need more."

"Not yet, my pet. I want to hear you beg for my cock." Sanzu chuckled, his breath hot on her neck as he leaned over her bent form.

Without any warning he withdrew his fingers. Leaving her aching and empty she whimpered and whined out.

“Sanzu. Please. I need you,” she quickly started to blab and beg as her pussy clenched around nothing.

And that was what he had wanted to hear. Silently he positioned himself behind her. With one hand on her hip, he guided his thick, throbbing cock to her entrance. His tip was hot against her wet folds, teasing her as he slid his tip along her folds. Chizu pushed back, desperate to feel him inside her. But the hand on her hip quickly stopped her. Along with a deep growl from the body behind her.

"Please, just fuck me already!" she pleaded, her voice desperate and raw.

Sanzu obliged, driving his cock deep into her in one swift motion. Claiming her with a primal growl. Chizu cried out, her body shaking as she adjusted to his size. He gave her no chance to adjust to his sudden intrusion as he began to move, his hips thrusting in a relentless rhythm. Filling her completely with each rough thrust.

"That's it, take it all," he grunted, his hands gripping her hips tightly. "You love being fucked, don't you?"

She could barely nod her head, her words lost in the waves of pleasure washing over her. Sanzu's cock felt incredible. He was stretching her, filling her in a way that ignited every nerve ending in her body. He pounded into her, his pace increasing with each thrust, his balls slapping against her clit with every retreat. She could feel the tension in her body building quickly.

"Oh god, I'm gonna cum!" Chizu cried out, her body tensing as her orgasm built.

Sanzu showed no mercy, his rhythm relentless as he drove her closer to the edge.

”Cum for me. Let me feel your pussy milk my cock."

His words were the final push she needed. Her body convulsed, her pussy clenching around his cock as she came hard. Sanzu growled, his own release building as he felt her orgasmic spasms. Her body was squeezing and milking his cock for all it was worth.

"Fuck, yes!" he roared, as he emptied his load deep inside her. His hot cum painted her insides and mixed with her own juices.

They stood there, both panting as they tried to catch their breath. Her body was limp and bent over the armrest of the couch. Sanzu's hands stroked her hair, his once sadistic demeanor softening slightly as he enjoyed the high from the adrenaline, drugs, and ecstasy from the orgasm.

The moment did not last long till he was stepping back from her. She whimpered as his soft cock slipped from her body. She could hear shuffling behind her, she could only assume he was putting himself away and pulling his pants back up to dress himself.

“I’m going for a shower,” was all he said before turning and leaving her alone in his living room to recover on her own. She best head home. He was not the only one who needed a shower. She still had blood on her face, or she would if she didn’t stain his couch with it.

Next day

#kinktober 2024 #tokyo revengers smut #sanzu smut #sanzu haruchiyo #impact kink #no beta read

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luna-di-fuoco · 1 year ago

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For a dear friend on Discord who wishes to remain anonymous, here's a HwoKina story based on these intimacy prompts!

WORD COUNT: 800+ RATING: E / Everyone

SUMMARY: Yukina and Hwoarang go to see a local band perform on one of their dates. However, something gets left behind in the process of them getting ready.*

*NOTE: This story is non-canon to the events of White Moon Saga and is considered a one-shot.

•─────────────────•°•☾ ◯ ☽•°•─────────────────•

Gathering the upper layers of his hair and tying them with an elastic, Hwoarang takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror. While the accessories have yet to be added, his outfit consists of an open vest and white graphic tank top, faded black jeans with splattered graffiti, and a belt with a skull and crossbones on the buckle.

Offering his reflection a bit of a smile, he heads for the foot of his bed to gather the rest of his outfit when he hears a muffled greeting from behind his door. Looking towards it, he perks up as he strides across his room to greet his guest.

Upon opening his door, he sees Yukina rummaging through the inside of her overnight bag. Watching from afar, he notices that she appears to be halfway dressed with slightly ripped jeans and a black fingerless glove on her right hand. Her face, which usually dons a natural set of makeup, is decorated with a slightly edgier look with smokey eyeshadow and a darker lip.

Her top, however, left much to be desired, being nothing more than a light gray pullover. Raising a brow in confusion, he calls out to her.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” He asks curiously, getting her attention.

“Oh!” Getting slightly startled, she looks over and pulls herself together, offering a mildly insecure smile. “I was hoping to finish getting ready here,” she explains as she tugs at her top. “But I think I left the top I was gonna wear at home by accident.”

Now with an understanding of the situation, he narrows his eyes. Looking her over, he begins formulating a plan.

“I got somethin’,” he tells her, entering the main area of his apartment and moving towards the washroom. “Wait here.”

Her interest piqued, Yukina’s eyes follow him as he enters the washroom and turns the light on. After about a minute of searching, he finds what he’s looking for and makes his way over, holding his hand out.

“Here,” he offers, watching her take what he’s given her. “Try this.”

Staring back at her is a black graphic tank top with a dragon’s head, the line work done in vibrant shades of teal and red. Finding this to be an excellent compliment to her partner’s color scheme, she smiles.

“I’ll be right back,” she informs as she heads for his room to change.

The moment his door slides shut, he moves towards the lounge area. Just before he can make himself comfortable, he hears his door open with Yukina’s voice in tow.

“How does it look?” He hears. Looking over, he sees that compared to her, his top nearly devours her. Finding this to be the perfect teasing opportunity, he grows a bit smug.

“Kinda baggy,” he tells her, his lips perched into a mischievous grin.

“True,” she admits, averting her gaze and tugging at the loose fabric covering her. “You are bigger than me.”

Softening his expression, he moves towards her. The second he’s close enough, he squats down and grabs the hem of her top.

“Let’s see if this helps,” he suggests, tugging the fabric close to her left hip and tying it into a knot. Making sure it’s tight enough for it to hold but not too tight on her figure, he watches her inspect his handiwork.

“Good?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Placing his hands on his knees, Hwoarang rises from his spot as Yukina returns to her overnight bag. Watching her tie her hair with her ribbon and absorbing how she wears his clothing, he offers a subtle smile.

“You look good,” he compliments, his tone soft.

Looking over at him as he says this, Yukina’s face grows slightly flush, her eyes warm. Smiling, she tightens the ribbon in her ponytail and returns to her bag.

“Thank you.”

Looking over at his bedroom, Hwoarang makes his way over while talking in the process.

“Just gonna throw on the rest of my stuff and we can go,” he tells her.

Nodding in response, Yukina grabs a black choker and silver cross star earrings from her bag. She begins putting them on when the conversation continues, Hwoarang’s words getting her attention.

“You start getting hot out there, you tell me,” he instructs. “These things can get pretty stuffy.”

“Ah—you’re worried about that?” She asks out of genuine curiosity. Despite not seeing his reaction, she can tell he’s embarrassed by his tone of voice when he responds.

“Yeah, well—I just don’t want you passing out.”

Softly giggling to herself, she makes her way towards him and peeks around the doorframe, watching him adjust some sort of brace on his wrist. Against the faintest blush and a curt expression, she can tell his eyes are vulnerable.

Coming around the doorframe to enter his room, she steps in front of him and places her hand on top of his, watching him make eye contact.

“I promise I’ll tell you,” she assures with a gentle, earnest smile.

Staring at each other in silence, she watches him compose himself. Pulling his hand away and gently ruffling the top of her hair, he continues the conversation as he leads her out of the room, their voices fading into the night.

•─────────────────•°•☾ ◯ ☽•°•─────────────────•

#my writing #luna's musings #tekken #not mahou shoujo #hwoarang #yukina kurimoto #oc x canon

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anicettestuccorepair · 8 months ago

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How Professional Exterior Painters Beautify Homes with Their Touch?

Exterior painting is more than just applying a coat of paint to your home. It's an art that requires skill, precision, and a deep understanding of materials and techniques. Professional exterior painters in Orlando have the expertise to transform a house, enhancing its curb appeal and protecting it from the elements. Here's how they do it.

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By ensuring the surface is clean and even, they create the perfect canvas for a flawless finish. This step also involves repairing any damages to the siding or trim, which can extend the life of the paint job and the structure itself.

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Attention to detail is what sets professional exterior painters apart. They use drop cloths, painter's tape, and other protective measures to protect areas that shouldn't be painted, such as windows, doors, and landscaping.

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While painting a house can be time-consuming for homeowners, professional painters have the experience and tools to complete the job quickly and efficiently.

They plan the project carefully, considering the weather, drying times, and other factors that could affect the outcome. By working swiftly without compromising quality, they minimize disruption to the homeowner's daily life and ensure the job is done right the first time.

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Exterior painting often involves working at heights, which can be dangerous without the proper equipment and training. Professional exterior painters are equipped with ladders, scaffolding, and harnesses to ensure their safety while working on upper levels.

They are also trained in safety protocols to prevent accidents and injuries. Additionally, they are familiar with local building codes and environmental regulations, ensuring the job is done safely and legally.

8. Long-lasting Results

A professionally painted exterior is an investment that pays off in the long run. With proper preparation, quality materials, and expert application, the paint job can last many years without peeling, fading, or cracking.

This enhances the home's curb appeal and provides a protective barrier against the elements, reducing maintenance costs and increasing the property's value.

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The most immediate benefit of professional exterior painting is the boost in curb appeal. A fresh coat of paint can make a home look new again, highlighting its architectural features and giving it a modern, updated appearance.

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#exterior painters in Orlando #exterior painters

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kxkarot · 8 months ago

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It takes a while for Vegeta to finally sleep. He knows it's not easy, not with paranoia eating away at them both. For the moments he can, keeping a close eye out, despite the environment. Despite the rest he'd already gained he feels tired, eyes blinking now and again to resist the urge to rest, it weighs heavily at the front of his mind. He can feel the grip on the blaster grow loose, gritting his teeth before he stomps down on his own tail, biting down on his bottom lip. The flaring pain does well to snap him out of it, he knew what it wanted. The slow scrape against metal draws his attention back to the door. Tail twitching irritably behind him as he rises.

It's occasional, tapping or claws scraping against the door. He knows it's attempting to look inside but it can't. It knows they're in there though and as long as he can he'll buy time, it's a standoff for more than a few hours. He's surprised it hasn't just rushed in, however it must be cautious now. Given there were two of them in here. His gaze drifts to the door and he growls. He can see the claws digging against the bottom, trying to get in. He doesn't like it but he roughly nudges the prince with his foot to wake him up-

and all hell breaks loose. The door shreds under gnarled claws and he can barely react as the enormous mass of it launches right at him. Yelling in loud curses as he's slammed up against the wall, he's gone against bigger opponents but this reminds him of a certain encounter and the blue aura flares outwards, spikes of electricity dancing from the heated ki and lashing out at the creature. He greets one mouth with a ki blast, the shriek it lets out as the mouth moves across it's body. One hand is busy trying to keep it from biting him as he kicks at it, smashing it's upper body down against the floor before managing to get a grip on it, pain flaring through his arm as he tosses it back out the door.

"CMON!" He taunts it, draws it's attention back to him, he can handle the brute force better than Vegeta would right now. He's not certain how well rested the other is and it comes right back for round two. He forms another ki blast, throwing a punch as it smashes into him and snarling as he blasts it. Jaws clamping down on his arm draw a pained yell, continuing to form another ki blast before shoving the blaster right into the throat and setting it off. The blast knocking both him and the beast apart, organic matter splattered everywhere as he rises to his feet. He can only watch in faint horror at the way it's slowly regenerating. Blood sprays out of his mouth as pain lances through his leg, abruptly dragged from the armory and into the hallway by the tail digging into his leg. Quick thinking is the only reason he gets it off as he blasts at it's tail, cutting it. "Will. You. Just. DIE!!??!!" He yells, blasting it again as it takes off, he breathes ruggedly, unaware of the next lurking threat behind him as he tries to catch his breath and rip the tail spike out of his leg.

"Won't do us any good if your struggling just to stay awake."

He comments, not holding back on the bite to his words, it didn't escape his notice how fatigued the other looked. All while carefully listening to the explanation, he preforms remarkably well under all this stress, adapting quickly to his environment and looking to see what he can use. Once upon a time this was all he could do. "Bulma shot me the first time we ever met, I grew curious about em and learned in case for some reason I ever lost my strength." Is his curt response, gazing towards the entrance. There is no vents in here, no way in besides the entrance and he'll be dammed if he lets the other try to remain half asleep to the world, especially in this scenario.

It's with that in mind that he slowly recalls what he'd been taught, he stands at the ready, gaze intently focused on the door as he speaks. "Get whatever rest you can, I'm keeping watch. If it comes in, I can keep it momentarily distracted and you blast it to hell."

#Ship of Terror | Horror AU #regulus regent

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happy-hermit · 2 years ago

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LAST LIFE SCAR ANGST PART TWO BABY :D

Thank you everyone for your enthusiasm with this fic akdkjdh it really kept me going. ( @stiffyck this is still for you)( @hopepetal here’s the tag u asked for I love your writing by the way I’m so happy you like this fic alskjdjd)

Part One

———

A few days pass where nothing and everything happens in equal measurements. The returned hermits work on settling back into normal — well, relatively normal — life, and they tend to only see each other in passing. They get caught up in old and new projects, filled with an urgency that came from being away for so long.

Scar himself spends most of his time gathering items. It’s mindless, repetitive work. Time consuming. Calming, almost. It’s boring enough that he doesn’t think anyone will bother to bother him. (He ignores the way his chest pangs at the thought. It doesn’t matter. It can’t.)

Jellie follows him around most of the time, even if he can’t always see her. She’s a comforting presence, and he knows that she’s only there because she wants to be. He doesn’t have to write up a contract to convince her to stay. She’s there for him. It’s just… nice, is all. To know that.

Scar wanders around with shulker boxes full of wood and leaves and sand and he pretends that he’s not avoiding everyone. It’s not like he doesn’t see them at all, and in fact he always grins and waves when he happens to run into someone. He just — doesn’t stay long. Doesn’t want to overstay a welcome he isn’t sure he has.

Daytime is easier. He can be busy during the day. He can forget. At night, though, he lays in bed and he hurts. His chest aches, and he’s cold, and he’s alone, always. Jellie is there, sure, and she counts, of course, but—

Well. Jellie can’t hug him. She can’t talk to him. She doesn’t know why he’s sad.

More than once, he finds himself outside of a Boatem member’s base in the dead of night, hand poised to knock and heart tugging him forward. He can’t do it, though. He doesn’t really know why — doesn’t want to think about it for too long. He’s pretty sure his mind would lead him back to an isolated mountain with a single bed set haphazardly in a corner. Thinks he would only be reminded of the way people had only ever visited if they’d wanted something from him.

He never knocks, those nights. He instead demolishes frankly absurd amounts of land for resources he doesn’t yet have plans for. He doesn’t sleep at night. It’s fine.

He manages to believe that for two weeks before it all falls apart.

———

The nights have been getting colder, since they all got back. Maybe it’s the season changing, or maybe it’s whatever has started happening with the moon; either way, Scar is thankful that he’s wearing a jacket. The fact that he’s soaked through to the bone is a little less ideal.

It’s a well known side effect of glow squid hunting, though, so he can’t really blame it on anyone but himself. It certainly ensured that he wouldn’t be falling asleep on his feet anytime soon. Of which there was a very real danger, if the cotton stuffed into his head and the lead weighing down his eyelids is any indication. The glow ink splattered on his hands and sleeves is starting to look a little blurry, and he instead focuses on just making it back to the Swaggon without keeling over.

The universe has it out for him, though, so when the first phantom crashes talons-first into his back, all he can do is fall.

He hits the ground with a strangled yelp, his sack of hard-earned glow squid ink flying out of his hand and splattering across the grass. It’s pretty. And heartbreaking. He supposes he hadn’t really needed it for anything…

The phantoms screech angrily overhead, and his back throbs and he scrambles to roll over onto it anyway, because he can’t stand up just yet and he at least wants to be able to see what’s coming—

He lurches to the right as another phantom dives towards him, and the talons only connect with his upper arm as opposed to his chest. He’ll call that one a win.

“Oh geez— Ow, come on, you can’t kick a man when he’s down!” Scar scrambles backwards across the grass, voice high and eyes wide as he resorts to attempting to reason with things that don’t understand him.

There are three of them circling him, and he scrambles to his feet just in time to catch a set of razor-sharp teeth in his shoulder. He yells and swats at it blindly, somehow managing to hit its eyes and smear glow ink across its wildly flapping wing. The phantom detaches itself from him, and he doesn’t even have time to be relieved before another is diving towards him.

He runs.

His shoulder hurts and his arm hurts and his back hurts and he’s cold and wet and no one has touched him gently in months, and he runs.

He doesn’t mean to go to Grian’s house. He had wanted to go home. (Maybe it’s telling, that he’d ended up here instead.)

A phantom bites at his leg as he reaches the alleyway, fake stars shining above him and horrifying undead creatures punishing him for his insomnia close behind him. Pain ricochets up his calf and down his ankle and he frantically tries to shake it loose, crashing to the ground again and crying out when the impact aggravates his other wounds. He knows without looking that his health is getting low. Dangerously low. And he hates respawning, he doesn’t want to, and maybe it won’t even work, maybe he’s used up his last life and he’s going to die alone just like he lived alone, and all he’ll be is a ghost haunting a world that barely notices his absence.

(That’s maybe too dramatic, but he’s dying and he’s tired and every night he holds his own hand and pretends he’s not alone. He feels entitled to a breakdown.)

He curls up against the ground with his eyes shut tight, resigned to the fact that he’ll have to get up and pick up his scattered items in a few minutes, resigned to the body aches that will follow him around for the next few days, resigned to the jokes that will pop up in chat after his death message goes out.

All he can hear is his own heartbeat in his ears, phantoms screeching and injuries stinging in a way that feels distant. Any second now. Any moment.

A hand lands on his shoulder, distinctly and painfully human, and he gasps, eyes flying open as he scrambles into a sitting position. His leg throbs angrily and his arm sends shocks of pain throughout his entire body and Scar tries his best to stay quiet — no one can know he’s hurt, they’ll kill him, they’ll make him give up a life — but a high-pitched sound of pain escapes his throat anyway. The blurry shape of a person kneeling in front of him freezes.

“—an you hear me? Scar?” The voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater, but it’s familiar. It feels like safe and danger at the same time. It sounds worried. “You’re hurt, please—“

“‘m fine,” Scar manages to get out, strained and quiet and mostly on autopilot.

“Wha— Scar, you are not fine, you absolute…”

The voice trails off into grumbling and Scar blinks slowly, looking down at himself. He’s covered in glow ink and his own blood and torn clothes. The clothes don’t look like the right color. He’s pretty sure they’re supposed to be purple.

“Wrong…” Scar mumbles, poking at his clothes. It seems important.

“Maybe because you’re bleeding all over it, Scar, just—“ The figure huffs, just a blob of red and tan, and something is moving behind him. Scar squints. The person seems angry. His weak heart rate picks up.

“D’ you… want a life?” Scar asks, confused and hurt. He can’t think. “I won’t… not for free. Let’s… A deal?”

The blurry person makes some sort of noise that makes Scar think he said something wrong. It sounds like it was punched out of them. Something’s wrong, he said something wrong. Scar’s eyelids are starting to droop, but he forces them open with a whine. The person lurches forward a bit, like they’re trying to catch him, but he’s not falling. Is he?

“D… Don’t go,” Scar pleads, mind scrambling to put together a sales pitch on why they should stay. “I can… I have— if you…”

His vision goes darker around the edges, as his own voice starts to echo in his head. The figure is saying something again, sounding frantic, scared. He wonders why. He hadn’t meant to be scary. He doesn’t think he’s in a condition to even try to be.

The last thing he sees before the darkness takes hold is a hand reaching out.

———

The first thing he’s aware of, when he wakes up, is not pain. It’s the gentle touch of a hand on his arm, lifting it and wrapping something around it. It still stings, but less so; most likely he’d been given a health potion. He feels warm. Sleepy. He opens his eyes.

The last thing he remembers is phantoms chasing him into Grian’s alley, and then someone finding him. Now with a slightly clearer head, he can only assume it had been Grian himself.

Slowly, he turns his head against the pillow he’s resting on, and he blinks sluggishly at the person currently bandaging his arm. It is Grian, with lines of worry in his face and his wings folded right against his back in that way that meant he was scared. Scar’s brow furrowed.

“…G?” His voice is hoarse, quiet, but Grian’s head still snaps up as if he’d shouted. “What’s wrong?”

Grian’s wings fluff up a little, something like angry disbelief swirling in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Grian repeats, half-hysterical. He drops the roll of bandages onto the bed and gestures wildly at Scar’s body. “You keel over in my alley dying of blood loss and you’re asking me what’s wrong?”

“Well, you do seem to be taking it harder than I am,” Scar jokes half-heartedly, attempting to sit up. Grian immediately pushes him back down, and Scar is too shocked to protest.

“Nope, you don’t get to deflect,” Grian says, and somehow it’s as gentle as it is stern. “I know what phantoms mean, Scar, and — and you didn’t even know who I was when I found you. So— so get talking. I know you know how.”

Nerves flare in his stomach, and he breaks eye contact to stare at the wall, inspecting all the random knick knacks on the shelves. He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to explain what he’s been feeling since the games, especially since everyone else seems to have moved on already. It feels silly, suddenly, for his biggest problem to be that he’s lonely. That he doesn’t think anyone wants him around.

“Scar,” Grian says, and it’s softer now. “I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.”

There’s a lump in his throat and a burning in his eyes, and for just a moment Scar pretends that his heartbreak is anger. He sits up, ignoring Grian’s protesting, and he points an accusing finger at the avian.

“Now you want to stay?” Scar says, powering through even when his voice cracks. “Because last I checked, all— all you wanted to do was leave.”

“Scar, what—“

“No, you wanted me to talk! I’m talking!” Scar’s chest hurts, and his hands are cold, and something in him has been breaking for a very long time. “You— you couldn’t wait to tell me that any alliance from the last games were over. And then when I— When I thought I had Mumbo you came and took him away, too.” Scar cradles his shaking hands close to his stomach and looks away, anger slowly draining. “And then Joel— and then I had no one. And no one wanted to— I tried, Grian, but no one wanted to—“

He closes his eyes tightly, trying to stop the inevitable. “No one wanted to stay,” he finishes quietly. “I… I don’t know what I did. I don’t know why no one…”

Scar trails off, laughing a little and rubbing at his eyes, trying to stop the tears before they fall on Grian’s blanket. “I’m sorry. I don’t— I’m just tired.”

“Scar,” Grian says softly, and something about his voice is strange. “Please look at me.”

Scar looks. Grian has asked him, and he looks.

Grian is looking back at him — a small, sad smile on his face — and he’s crying. Scar blinks in surprise, staring, and Grian laughs quietly, reaching up to wipe at his eyes. Scar doesn’t know what’s happening anymore.

“Grian?” Scar says uncertainly.

“Scar,” Grian says, and he sounds both intensely fond and profoundly guilty. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

Scar’s heart skips a beat in his chest, and he swallows hard. Grian keeps going.

“And I’m so sorry,” Grian says, voice cracking. He reaches out a hand and grabs Scar’s, squeezing it tightly. Scar’s breath hitches, his fingers twitching. The touch feels foreign. It almost hurts. He never wants to let go. Grian tugs on his hand, gently, and Scar looks back up at him. Grian looks heartbroken, but focused. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone,” he says.

“Then why did you?” Scar blurts, unable to help it. He feels a little bit pathetic. He can’t care anymore. “Why did everyone—“

“I don’t know,” Grian says, sad and frustrated and desperate. “I know why I did, I— We didn’t end well the first time. Scar, I couldn’t— I couldn’t kill you again. I looked at you and all I could see was…”

(Bloody knuckles. Sandy clothes. Only one gets to win.)

“I know,” Scar says, quietly, both an apology and forgiveness. And then, softer, “I was alone.” His shoulders curl forwards a little. “Everyone had someone and I was…”

Grian puts his other hand on Scar’s uninjured shoulder, and Scar meets his gaze. The avian’s eyes are full of fire, intense determination mingling with stubborn care.

“Never again,” Grian says, like he’s stating a fact of the universe. Like he’s challenging some malevolent god. Then he softens. “You’re not alone, Scar. Not anymore. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Scar opens his mouth to say something eloquent and thankful and graceful. Instead, he bursts into tears.

Grian pulls him into a hug by the hand he’s still holding, wings coming up to surround them, and for the first time in a long time Scar feels warm. The ache in his chest is fading. His hands aren’t cold. Grian is breathing shakily next to his ear, and he’s being so very careful as to avoid Scar’s injuries, and he’s hugging him.

Scar tucks his face into Grian’s shoulder and cries.

———

In the morning, Pearl busts down the door with soup and a vendetta against apparently unwelcomed emotions.

(“I heard someone was sad. I’m here to beat it up.” She’s grinning, and Scar can’t help but laugh.)

Impulse arrives a few minutes later and drops Jellie into his lap, smiling softly.

(“I think this one missed you somehow more than we did!” Jellie curls up by his injured leg, and if Scar tears up, no one mentions it.)

Mumbo bursts in last, the salvaged remains of the glow squid ink he’d collected gathered into a little bottle.

(“I tried to get you the fresh stuff, but there wasn’t really a way for them to— to ethically sacrifice themselves. Sorry, mate.” Mumbo is covered in glowing ink, looking genuinely apologetic, and Scar laughs until his ribs hurt.)

And he is not alone.

#this is three times longer than the first part KAKSJDHJD I think I was possessed /j #I hid in a basement all day to write this #I’m sick and on vacation. this is all I have /hj #anyway I hope you like it!! I’m not too sure about the comfort and the ending but I hope it’s fine #anyway enjoy!!#j writes #jay’s journal #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #grian #desert duo #last life smp #last life

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halfmoonshines · 3 years ago

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part three of the discoveries series, who knows how much there will be. you can read the others here

summary: you discover that there’s a third person accompanying Marc and Steven that they had no clue about; and you’re not about to let him out of your site, even if he’s doing dodgy stuff for an overgrown pigeon.

Marc Spector/ Steven Grant/ Jake Lockley x F!Reader

The dread set in fairly quickly after you followed Jake out of the apartment and into his car, which you had no clue how he acquired. You had obviously heard stories about the things that Marc was forced to do under Khonshu’s order - and you were completely unsure if you were prepared for any sort of blood shed.

Jake spared you only a glance or two on the drive, noticing you white knuckle the sides of your seat out of nervousness. While he definitely felt that you brought this on yourself, he was a protector. Marc and Steven were his responsibility; so that meant you were too.

Plus, it was sweet that you were doing all of this for them.

“Calm down, un valiente.” He said as he pulled the car into a parking lot. “We’re not doing anything particularly brash tonight.”

“You at least shouldn’t lie to the child.” Khonshu gave his unwarranted opinion, as always.

You gave him a slightly unsure nod, shy smile playing at your lips. “I trust you won’t let me get my head chopped off.”

Hopefully.

He gave a chuckle and nodded toward the unknown outdoors, gesturing for you to follow him out of the car. You were at some sort of abandoned warehouse on the bank of the Thames, a particular part of the city that you’d never been to before.

“We’re just doing some recon tonight, there shouldn’t be anyone here.” He didn’t know why he felt the need to reassure you but he certainly didn’t bother to fight it.

You followed closely behind him, eyeing the decaying walls of the building that he was leading you into. This definitely felt like the beginning of a horror movie, and you were the idiot heroine who dies first.

The first few minutes went splendidly, which is why you should’ve known that it was going to take a turn.

Jake heard a noise in the distance ahead of the two of you and turned to you quickly. “Mierda.” He muttered, putting his hands on your upper arms and leading you into a side room that you’d both already searched. “Stay in here and do not move.” His words were as swift as your departure, and you were left alone then in some strange building with possible boogeymen afoot.

You tried not to panic when you heard the footsteps scuff outside the door to the room you stood frozen in, hoping against hope that it was Jake returning from his checking the place out.

Horror movie rule number one; expect the worst.

The man who pushed open the metal door was a bit taller than the body you expected, a wicked scar carving up the right side of his face and a malicious grin to match it. You only managed to get out a small yelp before he had you pushed harshly up against the wall, one arm banding across your chest to keep you in place and the other hand covering your mouth.

You tried to kick out at him, every fiber in your being telling you to fight fight fight and not to stop. Marc had suggested that he give you self defense lessons, but you had never paid him any mind. Why would you have needed them anyway?

Your assailant pulled out a knife, running the sharp side none too gently along your cheek causing you to still to avoid having it dig any further.

“Doesn’t take much to take the fight out of you, does it?” His accent sounded Irish but you honestly couldn’t trust yourself to make any observations with the panic flooding your system.

Just as he began to shove the blade deeper into your skin, you almost resigning to your imminent demise, a loud bang cut through the air. The first things you took notice of was the blood splattered across you and how the mans hold instantly dropped.

Your eyes looked over his crumpled form on the ground before you glanced back up at the doorway, Jake pocketing his pistol again.

You have to be fucking kidding me. Jake thought as he took a step toward you, trying to gauge if you were injured. I left her for two minutes, the boys are going to have a conniption.

“See?” He said, gesturing widely around the room. “Nothing to worry about. Let’s get you home.” He ignored the guilt writhing in his gut.

You gave a nod, hands still shaky from the altercation and the constant reminder of the blood on you. You followed him out of the building at a quick pace, not daring a single look back.

I really shouldn’t have asked to come.

You were silent the whole way home, Jake sparing you worried glances the whole time. Once he had stashed the car and led you up to the apartment, he seemed at a loss. He just stood in the middle of the room, staring at your shaken frame with a hand running through his hair.

“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s a bad idea.”

Jake shook his head quickly, his decision already made. “I’m going to give the body up to the boys so they can take care of you, okay?” He grimaced, hand going to swipe across his mouth. “I understand that you have to tell them the truth. Just... I’m sorry, for dragging you out with me.”

All you could do was give a small nod and what you hoped was a reassuring smile, but the blood quickly drying to you was making you anything but comfortable.

The change was more violent than you’d seen before. Marc and Steven seemed to switch so seamlessly, so seeing the body jerk harshly before the eyes of your boyfriend were staring at you was a shock.

“Y/N?” Marc was on you in an instant, a hand over your shoulder and the other hovering over the cut on your cheek. “What happened? Did..” Oh god, what if they’d done that. “Did he do this to you?”

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Steven murmured from the head space.

You shook your head, bringing your hands to Marc’s shoulders with tears in your eyes. “His name is Jake but I’d really like to get cleaned up first.”

Marc pulled you to his chest, arms wrapping firmly around your back when he saw the first tears fall. He didn’t give a fuck about the blood, but he was certainly not going to let this slide.

requested to be tagged;

@geeklyon105 @galactic-galabee @ red-plaidedandcladed @ admin-in-residence @retrorxsie @terra-713 @soggumm @dopeqff @bishlemonpie @nothxney @daddysfavoritesexkitten @milkiane

#jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x f!reader #marc spector x f!reader #jake lockley x f!reader #moon knight #my works

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starsfic · 3 years ago

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Red Son comforting a slowly realizing he's not human Xiaotian (spicynoodles)

It started with the teeth.

His mentor had warned him about them when Long Xiaojiao started getting her dragon canines. Sun Wukong didn’t know if Xiaotian would sprout a sharp set of monkey teeth like his, but it was better safe than sorry. He was the one who cooed over them the most when they came and Xiaotian had sprinted over to show him.

Next was the face marking.

Xiaojiao had noticed it first when Xiaotian came down after work to join her and Red at the arcade. “Hey, you got some paint on your face.” she said, pointing to her eyes.

“What? Oh?” Xiaotian rubbed at his face. No paint came off on his fingers. “I don’t...” He paused as Xiaojiao leaned in, focusing on the paint. Her eyes went wide. “What? What is it?!”

Xiaojiao leaned back and silently pulled out her compact. “That isn’t paint,” she whispered in a near-squeal. “Look.” Xiaotian took the mirror and looked at his expression.

Around his eyes was a red splatter. Xiaotian rose up and rubbed at it. Under his fingers, it didn’t feel like paint. It felt like skin. Which meant...

“I got a monkey mark!”

Xiaojiao let out a scream of joy. “You got a monkey mark!” She grabbed Xiaotian’s hands and the two began to jump around. Red was left blinking at the counter.

They didn’t end up going to the arcade.

The next two things were the fur and tail. That had been a pleasant surprise with Xiaotian almost suffocating with heat. Still, it had been really cool, especially when Wukong began to teach him how to balance on his tail and use it to hold things.

…the next thing was…something else.

Qi Xiaotian didn’t really remember what happened. His mind had been on high alert the entire time. It still didn’t erase the fact that Xiaojiao was bleeding, had been gasping as her two elemental powers tore her body apart while he just laid there.

Bleeding from a wound that should have definitely killed him.

Xiaotian rose up and touched that wound, right in the center of the forehead. It had closed by now, but he could still feel it. It had been there, bleeding out, as he watched Xiaojiao be helpless. Faking dead had allowed him to get the upper hand.

But that wasn’t why he was upset.

“I’m not human anymore, am I?” The question was in a soft whisper, more to the careless gods than the demon at his windowsill. Arms wrapped around him and Xiaotian felt a sob escape him. “I’m not…I’m not…I’m not…”

Mortal. Human.

Immortal. Divine.

Red Son held him close and let him cry.

#my writing #not really Spicynoodles #Spicynoodleshipping #Spicynoodles #LMK #Monkie Kid #LEGO Monkie Kid #Qi Xiaotian #Long Xiaojiao #Red Son #prompt fill #prompt fic #fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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ateezinmymind · 4 years ago

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ateez and their size kink

warning: smut, fem! reader

requested by anon,, thank you so much!! i hope this is okay.. i’m sorry if it’s not— i’m on the taller side so— i’m like :/ eh?

hongjoong:

to be one hundred percent honest i think he wouldn’t be one to say he’d have that kink ..at first !!

but the way you would just look so cute under him while he’s railing into you... he’s like wait

he’d love to run his hands all over you just to see the comparison

cups your boobs/chest

because he’s shorter.. he’d never put it away

like ALWAYS teasing you..

“hey joongie” you call from your room to your lover in the living room. making him enter the room to you laying on the bed, sprawled out on your back- causing his dick to twitch in his pants from the sight of your body. your robe the only thing on your body, loosely fit and opened, letting your glistening heat be the center of attention.

“naughty little baby... what are you doing?” he growls out coming to the edge of the bed, grabbing ahold of your ankles to pull you closer to his growing member. gasping out from the sudden jerk and now close proximity to his tent- you stutter out your best “mmmh- i need you p-pretty please?”

“and what exactly does my baby need?” he says lowly, now squeezing your thighs deliciously in his hands. making you shiver, “your cock.”

“is that right?” hongjoong hums out when he brings his hands down to rake up your stomach and to your beautiful breasts. causing you to whine more and put your hands over his, and then to his zipper- fumbling with it while chanting and repeating “yes”

he just watches the pout form upon your lips when your hands are too shaky, so when you huff out- hongjoong immediately pushes you back down and shows you how to do it properly. ending with him fucking your tiny pussy before he could even take off his clothes.

“little baby... so small”

seonghwa:

cocky #1

melts his heart honestly.. like how??

DIRTY TALKER

or more like dirty praises?

please let him cum in your tiny pussy

HE WILL FILL YOU FULL

he wondered if it was just affecting him- how small you were in comparison.

you were so small and cute, it made seonghwa become someone he had to calm down. constantly touching you, you were his little thing to fuck and love- not anyone else’s

“you like that huh? my thick cock stretching your tiny pussy?” he growls right against the shell of your ear, while you throw your head back into his neck letting out moans of pleasure.

“yes, yes! seonghwa you’re so big”

and always when you did your chanting about how much you were in admiration for his bigger size, immediately and always made seonghwa want to bust.

it was something he took so much pride into, like yes. yes he was so big, only for you- and he would never live it down, constantly reminding you in anyway that you were on the lower level.

“mmmh gonna fuck my cum in you yeah? you want that? to fill you so full it’ll spill out of your tiny hole?”

just give him the go ahead and he’ll let go.

only to fuck you over and over again until everything spills to your thighs and onto the bedsheets

yunho:

please wear his clothes

he LOVES to fuck you in his big hoodie/shirt

TUMMY BULGE!!

he knows he big so he’s extremely careful when you’re so much smaller

cockwarming!!

but deep down he really wants to destroy you

as he watches his cock slide in and out of your wet heat from his hovering stance. yunho’s hands veiny, under your (his) clothes and resting on your stomach- he feels himself poke from your inners.

the feeling sending him into oblivion, hips frantic- but gentle hearing every whimper fall from your little lips and how your walls clench desperately around him.

“baby? s-stop clenching so hard” groaning out watching your eyes roll back and body to grow limp in his big hoodie covering your top half, yunho feels himself start to lose control

“b-but i can’t- you feel so good yuyu” moaning out blissfully. each word and sounds making him grow hotter and harder

your legs spread apart so wonderfully for him, as he fucks into your body cushioned on the bed. the morning sun peeking ever so slightly from the window blinds, lighting the room- such a beautiful setting for such lewd antics

slapping sounds, so erotic- waking up wanting and needing you, yunho had caved in

you were so small, but by far the warmest- pleasurable feeling

yeosang:

he’d be like ... wow ... tiny

hahahHAHAH jkjk no

but he’d be soooo AMAZED

like.. for real would think he’s going to break you

i think he would really like you to give him HANDJOBS!!

your tiny hands wrapped around him— fuck

he didn’t think that watching a show on tv, with you sitting on the floor while he in the sofa- you between his legs. that he’d be getting hard and actually cause you to crack first.

no way was yeosang going to interrupt your show for a little bedroom playtime, so when it was you who made the first move- things set sail

your fingers brushing over his tip, gathering his leaking arousal- yeosang kept his eyes down watching every move of your small digits and the way both your hands jacking him off looked.

you made him feel huge, and it was true

“y/n- fuck” bucking his hips up, yeosang twitches closer to the edge

having no idea why you’re making him feel close so fast, you just were irresistible with those small features…. all so tempting-

“you can’t even wrap your hands around me~”

but just wait until after he grunts out his dirty comments and amazement, and cums over your hands- it’ll make him hard all over again, and then he’ll compare his size to the tightness of your cunt

san:

cocky #2

are we surprised? not really no

but there’s two things.. does he want to rip you apart or spare you the delicacy?

DEPENDS ON HIS MOOD

if he’s hornyyyy- it’s game over

he’ll do the whole nine— but you better beg

okay doggy would be a position you and san spend having sex in quite a lot.

especially if he’s feeling greedy and pretty much like the most prideful man on earth- because.. i mean he’s the biggest compared to the little baby you are.

“this small pussy takes my big cock so well huh?” he questions you in a low level moan while gripping ahold of your hips tightly

hitting in you perfectly every time, cries of pleasure rip out of you- as your arms can’t keep your upper body up any longer. “mmm- yes! only for you!”

san loves holding his hands on the small of your back while moving his hips in deliberately- making you fall apart just to his doing. your moans made him gleam with delight. and he couldn’t get enough.

so when san pulls out of your sopping cunt- leaving your orgasm to fade away into the midst of no pleasure. and you begin the begging

oh boy. “sannie! n-no don’t stop!! please stretch me out!” with a pout on your lips and hands trailing down to play with your clit- “i need your big cock~”

he’s back in- pounding into you like no tomorrow.. better yet, you’ll be going on until tomorrow- up all night, ripping orgasm after orgasm from your little body

mingi:

princess boy would think you were so cute

omg like :O

YOU ON TOP = MOANING MESS

your small body taking his big everything would make him so bananas

like.. please RIDE HIS THIGHS

climbing on the thickness of mingi’s thighs, two things were going to happen. one; he was going to take in every second of your show and not take any of it further for him, or two; bring the aftermath of it upon you. meaning you caused this achingly hard erection to occur with the friction of your pussy against his thighs, so why don’t you just be so kind and take care of it?

seeing you on top of his spread legs, bouncing yourself up and down his dick- made him feel warmth succumb every part of his body.

“y/n, baby- yes!” deep moans into the air, head thrown back, adam’s apple bobbing. mingi wouldn’t have it any other way

your thighs straddling him, his cock sheathed into you at the pace you make for yourself- all of it was pure bliss

mostly it was when you reached your high. that he couldn’t take it any longer.

your hands gripping tightly into his shoulders, as you continuously abused your sweet hole with him, clenching, moaning- throwing yourself forward to his chest.

once you hit your climax, mingi needs to pull out to spurt his cum over the small of your stomach. absolutely covering you with his white paint. so much of it- just to be splattered about, all over your panting and heaving self was absolutely pristine

wooyoung:

cocky #3

holy hell, YOURE GOING TO NEED HELP

he will ALWAYS make sure you know just how small you really are

like... oh? you can’t reach that? too bad

SO RUDEEE (not really but like) TEASE!

SUCK HIM OFF PLEASE!! he’ll get so whiny

“you little whore huh? really that’s what you are! a tiny little wh- uH~!”

constantly. everytime he’d ramble about having his thick big dick in the smallest little thing of a mouth you have, giving him just a quick suck and pump of your hands- sent wooyoung into a babbling mess.

to the point where you’d have him bucking up with need- because all you do is be small. that’s it.

be the small thing he gets to fuck and love.

oh? you’re hungry? take his cock. oh? you’re bored? take his cock.

it was simple yet exciting. you loved taking him in every way. and he loved the way you- so little yet so proud and confident that wooyoung wouldn’t let it go.

“you j-just can’t get enough can you?” as soon as the stuttering comes repeatedly- it was a cue for you to brace yourself for a load of his seed.

lips wrapped tight around him, your wet little tongue licking and ravishing…. what a sight.

it’s even better when it’s decorated with the milky white of his cum~

jongho:

something inside him will unlock

and he will want to suddenly make you a MESS

MANHANDLING i swear on it

he will lift you up just in regular life

AND in the bedroom

DOES ALL SORTS OF FUCKING- against the wall, standing, etc

it was the little whine that escaped your mouth when jongho had picked you up from the floor and onto the counter when you two were making out- that he knew, fuck yes.

“oh? you’re becoming more and more dumb each time i fuck your tight pussy, hmm” jongho can help the lowness of his voice to become while feeling the way you get even tighter around him, “maybe i ought to fuck you with something else but my cock?”

“no! no! y-your cock please mmmmh- only yours jongho!” your pleading whines that turn into moans into the crook of his neck, for the way he holds you leaves you no choice but to throw your head into

having your body pinned against the wall, so small- easy to use in his advantage and liking

jongho enjoyed the way you were able to be taken anywhere, and in any way. while even during the normal of the day in life- and your going about in public, how you constantly pressed your tiny hands against his abdomen holding him close. jongho, either had a hand cupping your ass or you palming him

no matter the circumstance. jongho lives to see the baby he loves- so small and sweet be needy and breakable to his every demand…

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez drabbles #ateez x reader #yunho #seonghwa #choi san #ateez blurbs #ateez fluff #ateez requests #hongjoong #wooyoung #mingi #jongho #yeosang

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vannahfanfics · 3 years ago

Text

Reckless

Word Count: 2500

Fluff, Romance, Hurt and Comfort

Summary: Natsu's started a fight in the guild hall again, and Lucy must yet again try and calm him down. But things go awry this time, and she ends up burned. Now Natsu can't bring himself to be around her. He blames himself for her injury and has convinced himself that he's too dangerous to ever be around her again. What will Lucy do?

Hello, everyone! Here is my story for the Fairy Tail Reverse Bang hosted by @ftguildevents! I had fun participating again this year. Please do be sure to go check out the art done by my partner @xfangheartx!

Lucy honestly shouldn’t be surprised to hear clamoring bangs, resounding crashes, and vulgar swears bleeding through the grand wooden doors of the guildhall first thing in the morning. Yet here she was, her mouth twisting as it struggled to form an expression that would capture the level of annoyance she was feeling. It was eight in the morning, for crying out loud! What on Earth could they have to fight about? Lucy almost debated on turning around and going home, but she decided against it. Rent would be due soon, and she needed at least one more job to be in the clear.

With a heavy sigh, she pushed open the doors, trying her best to mentally and physically prepare herself for the chaos.

A flagon of milk slammed into the door beside her head, causing her to jump nearly a foot in the air with a loud screech. She was too busy trying to keep her heart from pounding out of her chest to notice that the milk had splattered over her upper arm. After that, her attention was captured by the pure and utter carnage ripping apart the guildhall.

All the tables had been upended and their contents spilled onto the floor, forming a mush of breakfast foods, fruit juices, and wood splinters. Food and plates and cups were flying left and right—some smashed against the wall, while others smashed into people, whether it be those perpetuating this early-morning brawl or those trying their best to hide behind the overturned furniture. Master Makarov was sitting on the bar sipping at some orange juice, his weary not changing the slightest when he shifted left or right to dodge an errant bagel or muffin lobbed his way.

Lucy just slumped in the doorway and groaned, “What could have possibly started all this?”

“Natsu said waffles were better than pancakes, and Gray got offended,” Levy quipped from where she was ducked behind an overturned table. No doubt Gajeel was deep in the scrap; he probably had no opinion on breakfast foods, he just liked to throw hands as much as the rest of them.

“Of course those two are at the heart of this,” Lucy sighed while running a hand over her face. Well, there was nothing for it. She would have to do what she always did—go into the thick of the fight to drag Natsu out by his ear kicking and screaming before he burned the guild hall to the ground. There were soot marks all over, and poor Juvia was doing her best to put out a fire burning on the remains of a fern that simply refused to die. Lucy rolled up her metaphorical sleeves, then stomped into the fray.

“Natsu? Natsu, where are you?” she shouted above the cacophonic din. “Natsu, you’d better—whoa!” she cried and swiftly ducked a plate that sailed over her head, the fried egg on it flipping in mid-air before landing back on the plate as it sped away. “Ugh, I don’t get paid enough for this. NATSU!”

“Hey, Lucy!” he cried as he appeared in front of her, his fists flaming and his grin broad. He punched away a muffin as it came sailing at its head, setting it on fire to instantly burn it into a rock-hard lump of what used to be muffin. “I got a question for ya. Which is better—pancakes or waffles?”

“Don’t drag her into this, moron!” Gray shouted as he vaulted over a table and fell upon Natsu in a fury. Lucy just watched, her soul draining out the soles of her feet, as the two of them scrapped like a couple of toddlers—punches and kicks everywhere. “Besides, Lucy definitely thinks pancakes are better!”

“What was all that about not dragging her into this, huh?” Natsu growled back. “And no she doesn’t! She likes waffles!”

Lucy’s eye twitched in annoyance. She liked them equally as much, but she doubted she could tell the hot-headed boys that. Instead, when Gray and Natsu sprang apart to stick out their tongues at one another, Lucy stomped up to Natsu.

“Natsu, that’s enough! How many times have I told you not to start fights in the—Aiiieeeeeee!”

She reached out for his shoulder right as Natsu blasted a column of fire at Gray. The flickering flames enveloped her hand, instantly searing her skin. Though she reflexively wrenched her hand back as soon as it hit her skin, just the milliseconds of contact was enough; her skin was bright pink and blistering, clear fluid leaking all over as they burst. Lucy fell to her knees, throwing back her head in an agonized sob. Everything froze around her, everyone halted in the middle of beating one another up with their owlish gazes fixed on Lucy. Not that she realized.

It hurt, it hurt so bad, she had never felt anything like this. She tenderly held her wrist just underneath the border of burned skin, but that didn’t stop the tendrils of pain from zipping up and down her arm. It felt like snakes of fire were searing through her nerves, burning her from the inside out. She just howled and sobbed, thick tears pouring down her cheeks like the blister fluid sticking to her hand, because she couldn’t think about anything but the pain.

“Oh, no! Oh, Lucy, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!” Natsu cried. He fluttered around her, hands flapping around her body like he wanted to help but was too terrified to touch her. “Shit, shit, shit—what do I do, what do I do?”

“Get the hell back, moron!” Gray snarled and yanked Natsu back by his scarf. “Haven’t you done enough?”

As Mirajane and the Master rushed to her side, Lucy opened her watery eyes. Everything was a blur around her, but somehow, she could see Natsu clearly. She had never seen such an agonized look on his face; he looked like his soul had been crushed, all the life drained from his eyes as he regarded Lucy’s burned hand like it was Death itself.

And then he hung his head, two thin rivers of tears rolling down his cheeks. Lucy lost track of him as the guild members crowded around her, all clamoring to get her medical help. And Lucy reached out to the place where he had been with a quiet whimper of his name…

~~~

“Hey, Lucy! It’s time to change your bandages.”

Lucy looked up from her book at the sound of Mirajane’s voice. She used her good hand to close the book and set it on the barrel that was serving as her nightstand, while Mirajane pulled up a stool to sit at her bedside. It had been several hours; lunch would be starting soon. Lucy could smell some simmering stew wafting in from the kitchen, which was not far from the back room of the guild in which she was currently resting.

Mirajane gently took Lucy’s hand and inspected the bandages. It was saturated with burn cream, antibiotics, and fluid from Lucy’s blisters, making them a sticky, tan-colored mess. Mirajane began to unwind them, and though she was doing her utmost to be gentle, Lucy still winced and whined as little jolts of pain assaulted her nerves. Clumps of sloughed skin clung to bandages, and as it peeled away from her flesh, it felt like she was being seared all over again.

“Sorry,” Mirajane smiled apologetically at her.

“It’s okay,” Lucy breathed through clenched teeth. “It’s not your fault.”

“Tch, you’re right. It’s Natsu’s,” she grumbled. Lucy quirked an eyebrow, shocked to see Mirajane slip so easily into her dark persona. She immediately switched back, closing her eyes and smiling awkwardly. “Ah, I shouldn’t say that… He didn’t mean to, and he’s been tearing himself up over it all day.”

“He has?” The conversation was distracting. Lucy hadn’t even noticed that Mirajane was slathering burn cream all over her hand. Lucy relaxed into the pillows with a quiet sigh; it sure felt good, so cold and soothing.

“Sure has. I’ve never seen him mope like this. Though maybe it’s good for him. Maybe this’ll finally teach him to be more careful with his flames,” she tutted with a click of her tongue.

Maybe that’s what everyone else thought, but the idea of the normally boisterous, happy-go-lucky Natsu trudging around in a hyper-depressed state made Lucy’s belly twist. It was just an accident. She didn’t want Natsu to blame himself…

“Mirajane? Will you send Natsu to come see me?” Lucy asked petulantly. She just couldn’t stand the idea of Natsu being sad. If she could do something, say something…

Mirajane looked at her questioningly for a moment. Her expression was blank, at first, but it slowly softened into a smile. She took Lucy’s hand and gave it a firm pat, then held it tenderly for a moment.

“Sure, I’ll send him in. Don’t be too hard on him, okay? He’s already heard it from me and Erza.”

“I’m not going to be hard on him at all,” Lucy reassured with a wan smile.

As Mirajane rose, Lucy cast her gaze down to her lap. No, she wasn’t going to be hard on Natsu at all. Even though Erza’s and Mirajane’s lectures were both legendary, there was no one in this entire guildhall that could be harder on Natsu than himself right now. And she could tell that by the way he was hovering just outside the door right now, thinking she couldn’t see him. But she could. She could see him trying to hide in the shadows, but nothing could hide the tension in his body, the faint gleam of his green eyes brimming with regret.

Lucy’s heart shattered when he finally crept into a room—hesitant, like an animal expecting to be scolded and tensing to take off at the slightest provocation. His expression was absolutely crestfallen. She’d never seen him so crushed. The sadness was so pervasive in his expression that he didn’t even look like the same person. It brought tears to her eyes, and Natsu, who was keenly studying every inch of her, instantly shrunk away.

“You’re hurting.” His voice was hoarse, like a ghost of the happy-go-lucky cry of joy she was so used to. “I… I hurt you, Lucy.”

“Natsu,” she sighed and reached out her hand to him—her uninjured hand. If she offered the one swatched in bandages, he’d probably collapse right there.

Natsu reluctantly crept forward. When he slowly, ever-so-slowly slipped his fingers into hers, they were violently trembling. Lucy crooned soothingly and gave his fingers a squeeze; it enticed him to sit on the edge of the bed. However, though his body relaxed just barely, his expression remained broken. Slowly, his gaze fell to her injured hand resting atop her thigh.

“I… I burned you.” He fixated on her hand like he couldn’t look away, but his expression also grew more pained the longer he looked at it. “It’s because of my recklessness that you got hurt.” He tore his gaze away from her hand, and his mouth twisted into a self-deprecating scowl. “Lucy… I’m too dangerous to be around you.”

“Natsu, stop, please.” She was so desperate to banish that agonized look off his face that she cupped his cheek with her injured hand. He recoiled from the scratchy bandages with a groan, but she didn’t let him flee; she pressed her hand to his cheek again, and this time, he allowed her to gently turn his face back to her. “Please,” she repeated in a voice just as pained as his own. “You hurt me so much more blaming yourself than you ever could with your flames.”

“Really?” He looked so pitiful, as if he were afraid to even hope.

“Yes,” Lucy nodded. “It was an accident. Nothing more.”

“B-but—”

“No ‘buts,’” she asserted, poking her lips out in a firm pout. “I could have just as easily been hurt by anyone else in the guild. These things happen sometimes.” Her pout curled into a smile, one of amusement and fondness. “That’s what being in Fairy Tail is all about, right? Chaos and mayhem and craziness. Sure, someone may end up with a bump or a bruise or a burn every now and again, but I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”

Her smile broadened, and when she leaned forward to touch her forehead to Natsu’s, he drew in a quiet breath.

“More than that, I wouldn’t change my partner for the world.”

He looked down at his lap. He fiddled nervously with the cloth of her blanket, then slowly reached up to peel her hand away from his cheek. He looked down at it while idly tracing circles over the bandages with both his thumbs.

“Even if I burn you, huh?” he sniffed, and Lucy melted a little in relief when she detected a little chuckle in his tone.

“Hey, you gotta be at least a little bit reckless to be a part of Fairy Tail, right?” she joked. “Guess my reckless bit is being with the most reckless knucklehead there is.” She nudged him with her forehead, prompting his uncertain gaze to flick up to her eyes. “But you know what? So what if he’s reckless? He cares so much that he’d worry himself sick over me. That’s still the best partner in the world, in my book.”

Natsu blinked, and then a bashful smile bloomed on his face. He eagerly pressed his forehead into hers, then came a little closer to bump the tips of their noses together. It was such a tender and touching moment, one of so many that she had the privilege to share with Natsu. Still, she couldn’t deny that he was owed at least a little repayment for her injury.

“Ow!” he yelped when she pinched the meat of his arm, hard. He jerked back, his green eyes wide, and Lucy stuck out her tongue playfully at him.

“There. Now we’re even.”

It took him a minute to register what had just happened. Then, he snorted in laughter and shook his head.

“Man. You sure are something else.” His shoulders sagged as he heaved a sigh—like he were finally letting out all that tension he was holding on to. He practically fell onto Lucy, dragging her back down into the bed. He snuggled up next to her, hooking one leg over hers, and buried his face into her tresses of blonde hair. He’d always said he loved what she smelled like—like strawberry-lemon, whatever that meant.

“I wouldn’t trade you for the world either, Lucy,” he mumbled softly against her scalp. Lucy hummed, idly tracing abstract patterns into his arm as he hugged her around her middle. “So I’m gonna take better care of you from now on, ‘kay?”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, then yawned. With Natsu’s body draped around her, cushioning her in soft, mellow heat, it was so easy to be lulled into drowsiness. Natsu was already softly snoring in her ear. She allowed herself to drift off, falling headlong into the comfortable twilight of sleep. After all… even the reckless had to sleep sometimes.

#nalu #natsu x lucy #lucy x natsu #faity tail #ftreversebang2022

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago

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Emergency Beacon

Jason Todd One-Shot

Word Count: 1K Warnings: Angst, Blood, Violence

Author's Note: @bunnvoid made the terrible decision to show me the sequel to EB and this spawned from this magnificent piece Bunn did a few weeks ago. I am not responsible for the feelings. :) -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Everything hurts. Every brush of fabric along his wounds sends a mixture of electric shocks and iron-hot burning up his nerves. He keeps repeating the steps of first aid in his head as he staggers up the massive flight of stairs in the warehouse. Remove the debris, stop the bleeding, lie down, tourniquet, immobilize the wound. The last set of stairs when he turns the corner becomes his worst nightmare and it’s all he can do to keep himself from collapsing right then and there. He’s gotta get to the roof. He’s gotta get outside.

Gritting his teeth, he shoves one hand to the green, medicated bandage across his abdomen, the other grasps the first step on the stairs, and with harsh grunts, he pulls himself up them, spit splattering against the front of his mask where he has to force air out and in between cracked and split lips.

Every grab of the concrete steps breaks the tips of his fingernails, splitting them down in cracks and blood starts to smear on the stone where he held on and pulled. His knees keep catching and scraping, ripping the already torn fabric further and breaks the skin.

The door is four steps away and he’s moving on autopilot because he knows if he falters even for a second, he’ll collapse and right there is where he’ll die.

He trips, falling face first into the door, but his grip is firm on the door handle, and he heaves it open, stumbling out into the storm raging above Gotham City.

And that’s all the strength Jason has left.

His feet fall out beneath him, and he barely lets out a sound as he falls, though when he gets himself to roll over onto his back, a strangled note of pain warbles from his throat.

He fumbles for the button no bigger than a poker chip stored somewhere in his pocket and he raises it into his bleary vision, trying to thumb the button but it slips through his bloody fingers. Jason can’t help the cry that escapes him and he’s not sure if it’s anger or desperation, but it’s probably a mixture of both.

Jason watches it roll just past his grasp and he thrusts his arm out, fingertips brushing it and he screams in anger when he can’t get it. An agonized cry passes his lips, and he lays his hand flat against the rooftop, shifting his upper body over and finally, his fingers curl around the device.

Yanking it back, he raises it once more and this time, he doesn’t let it slip out of his grasp as he presses it, watching the red-light flicker atop, signaling the emergency beacon has been activated. Then he lets his arm fall, across his chest, the flashing light a staple in the dark night.

His free hand has been pressed to the wound blooming warmth across his abdomen and he lifts it, grasping the mask across his mouth and jaw with a bloodied hand, yanking it away. It clatters along the metal rooftop, the glowing ember lights flickering out as it cracks up the middle.

His breathing starts to stutter, and he knows the wound from the shotgun blast has done more damage than he originally thought. It’s quite possible that a lung has been punctured by buckshot. He’s drowning in his own blood and that immediate knowledge takes over everything else in his mind.

And with every wheeze, Jason’s finding it harder and harder to take in air while blood pools in his mouth, dribbling down the side of his chin and all he can do is hope Bruce gets there in time. He doesn’t want to die again. He doesn’t want to die now.

Bruce won’t leave me, he thinks, he prays.

“Bruce don’t leave me again,” he begs. The words taste like copper as salty tears mix with the crimson flowing down his face and he sucks in a burst of air that ends in gurgles when it comes out, punctured lung starting to deflate, filled with blood.

He starts to dwindle dangerously between the lines of consciousness and unconsciousness and a sound echoes in his ears, a giggle, the joyous laugh of a child and a hearty chuckle of a parent that follows.

Jason manages to turn his head, the pearl and onyx curls are drenched in sweat and stuck to his forehead, but well enough out of his eyes that he can see the vision before him.

He watches with teary eyes a young boy in bright red, green, and yellow grasps at the large black cape of the man in the dark suit, the man’s own arms coming around the boy’s head. A sob tears its way from Jason’s throat as the man’s stoic expression splits into a warm, proud smile, I love you, son mouthed, but he swears he can hear the words like it was yesterday that he spoke them.

It’s his life flashing before his eyes, the happiest memories of what once was that was taken and tainted, yanked apart at the seams, clawing with bloody and splintered fingernails at a coffin lid, screaming throats hoarse with cries of despair You replaced me! No, I lost you!, a hug and flowing tears long overdue.

It’s all overdue.

It’s all over.

He can’t feel it anymore.

Can’t feel the frigid rain coming down on him.

Can’t feel the warmth spreading between his fingers.

He’s cold. He must be. But he can’t feel it.

But he sees it.

He sees, barely, the vision of him dancing with his father melt away like smoke, another figure coming into sight. Jason’s chest shudders and he inhales once, twice, then it stills, the reflection of the figure darting in the drops of rain falling in his gaze, splashing against his face.

It’s a cold, rainy night in Gotham City, a repetition of a father’s greatest failure coming again with vengeance.

And all that’s left is a blinking emergency beacon.

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starrygalaxy04 · 4 years ago

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The MLQC Boys and Squirting Headcannon+Drabble (NFSW)

Victor

At first, he didn't really think much of it

He's 100% a giver and wants to make you feel all the good feelings

He knew how to pull orgasms from you as well as he knew how to tie a tie, so there was no doubt you would have many

But what he didn't expect was for you to gush all over his face while he was nose-deep between your legs

He doesn't actively look to make you squirt after that, but it is a major turn on for him and if you do it once, there's a very good chance he'll get you to do it again

Victor laid hot, wet kisses down your stomach as he made his way in between your legs. He had made sure you were absolutely soaked before even letting a finger slip down there, gently making out with you as his fingers rubbed gentle, slow circles on your clit. It was enough contact to make you squirm, but it was too slow and not exactly firm enough to get you to the peak you wanted.

He hushed your whining with a kiss before slowly picking up the pace, bringing you to one of the many earth-shattering orgasms Victor consistently gave you when the two of you made love. He was nothing if not thorough, if you didn't like something he was quick to stop and move on to something else. And when you tugged at his wrist after your orgasm, a small whine leaving your lips, he got the hint.

Which is how he found himself nipping at your thighs, patiently waiting for any sign that you were ready for more. He didn't like to overstimulate you unless you were bouncing on his cock. Foreplay was very important, a necessity that was taken very seriously when you were under Victor Li.

Your fingers tangling in his black locks and tugging is what brought him back to the present, smirking as he trailed his kisses higher until his breath was ghosting over your clit, warmth radiating against his lips as his tongue flicked out of his mouth experimentally. The low moan that left your mouth and the insistent tugging against his scalp was all he needed before he had pressed his mouth against your folds. His tongue lapped languidly against you, occasionally venturing up to circle your clit before trailing back down, collecting more of your sweet-tasting slick on his tongue.

The sounds of him licking your folds began to fill the room the wetter you got, low moans leaving your lips as Victor groaned against your folds. Without warning, he slipped a finger inside of you, rubbing against your gummy walls as he focused his attention more on your clit. Soon, a second finger joined the first, and the pads of his fingers found a spot that made your moans grow much louder.

He kept a slow, steady pace, sucking and licking your clit as you clenched on his fingers, heavenly moans leaving your lips as your grip on his hair tightened. Your hips bucked once, twice, and Victor used his free hand to pin your hips down, his deep purple eyes watching as your expression contort into one of pure ecstasy. He could tell you were close, and couldn't help but smile against your clit, his teeth gently rubbing against it as his fingers continued to move.

Before long, you were gasping, begging him not to stop. He obliged, sucking hard on your clit before your orgasm rocked through you. Your legs closed around his face, plush flesh pressed against his cheeks. He closed his eyes, prepared to diligently work you through it. But what he didn't expect was a gush of fluid to coat his face and splatter onto his neck. He paused for a brief moment, eyes wide, before he began massaging your thighs, waiting for you to come down.

When you finally released him, he slowly moved away, letting you take in the mess on the lower half of his face and around his prominent Adam's apple. His narrow purple eyes caught yours, adoration, love, and lust mixed together into one picture you wouldn't forget any time soon.

"I didn't know you could do that."

Lucien

This man is actively looking to make you squirt

He's into both overstimulation and edging, and he can read your body like a book

It was a matter of time

The first time he got you to do it, he made sure to forever engrave it in his memory

He loves to take pictures of you, innocent or naughty

He didn't think a simple picture would do that beauty justice, though

If you consented to it, he would definitely take a video of it for his personal enjoyment

It wasn't uncommon for Lucien to tie you to the bed with the light purple silk wrapped around your wrists and ankles. And it also wasn't uncommon for Lucien to hold a vibrator to your clit, ripping orgasm after orgasm from you until you were in tears, begging for him to stop. But it also wasn't uncommon for him to do the exact opposite, pulling away when you were just about to cum, making you whine and moan for hours until he finally let you cum.

Tonight was a more merciful night.

You had a hard day today, which meant Lucien wasn't going to be as hard on your body. You liked both sides of him, the ruthless hard dominant and the softer dominant that still held a guiding hand in every move you made in the bedroom.

Lucien sucked on your collarbone, leaving a hickey that would just barely be covered up by the clothing you would wear to work the next day. He had been teasing you for the past hour, his large hands roaming over the expanse of your body, squeezing, massaging, pinching, kissing, and licking everywhere except where you wanted him most. Hickies littered your upper thighs and hips along with some bite marks. Lucien had already made a mental note to take a picture of them later, his tongue flicking over your nipple as his right hand trailed lower. His middle finger made contact with your slit first, completely soaked. He trailed further down, his fingers coming in contact with a damp spot on the sheets.

A smile made its way onto Lucien's lips as a pleading moan left your lips, and he shushed you quietly, resting his head in the juncture between your shoulder and neck. He was still fully clothed, his lab coat and shirt rubbing against your heated skin as his hand trailed back up, coating itself in your slick.

"Just relax, little butterfly. I've got you."

Lucien gently kissed your shoulder before slipping his middle and ring finger inside your sopping, gummy walls. Your head tilted back and another smile graced Luciens lips as he pumped his fingers at a slow pace, making sure to rub that one spot that drove you wild.

"If you want more, all you have to do is ask, butterfly. Today is all about you." Lucien cooed in your ear, watching you squirm.

"More, please more," were the only words that left your lips before Lucien had obliged you, his fingers knuckle-deep inside you as he thrusted them at a moderate pace, listening to your moans and whines.

His thumb trailed over your clit, rubbing the nub gently as his fingers were getting coated in your juices. The sound of squelching could be heard only if you listened close. Lucien didn't want anyone else to hear the sounds your decadent pussy made within the walls of his apartment.

When your moans grew louder, his thumb rubbed more generously on your clit, his fingers pressing up against that one spot with more vigor. He pressed gentle kisses on your neck, praising you with gentle hums as he worked on getting you to an orgasm.

When your gummy walls began clenching on his fingers, he rubbed your clit just a slight bit faster, encouraging words leaving his lips without him even thinking.

"Cum for me, my butterfly. My beautiful, lovely butterfly. Let it go, I'm right here."

You came with a squeal, your walls clamping down on his fingers as he watched the clear liquid gush from your cunt. His pale eyes were locked on his wrist, his lab coat soaked from the ejaculate.

You were still coming down from your high as Lucien slipped his fingers out of you, removing your bindings so that you could move freely. He laid back down next to you, a smile on his face as he watched you roll over to face him.

"It seems like we have a new result to look forward to."

Kiro

Kiro, the poor baby, didn't even know what squirting was

He had just gotten back to the hotel from shooting a promo for his newest movie, but because he was in another country he couldn't release the pent-up horniness like he wanted to

So what was better at that moment than some phone sex?

He knew you had the day off, so he didn't hesitate to video call you after he had crashed in his bed

You answered immediately, and the rest was history

It takes him a while to get the gist of it, but thanks to his skilled fingers he finds all the right spots in no time

If you feel up to it, he will happily give you a squirt orgasm that will leave you boneless without his dick going inside of you

Kiro couldn't stand it anymore. He hadn't had you in his arms in a month, and it was really starting to take its toll. He had a boner at almost all times now, which was very inconvenient considering he had many shoots to do. So as soon as he got back to the apartment, the first thing he did was call you.

You had a day off, and were watching Netflix when he called. He had greeted you happily, and you two talked for a while before he brought up the real purpose of his call. Normally he had no issue about asking you to have sex with him, but his flaming red cheeks gave away a hint of embarassment. You agreed with a chuckle, assuring him that you missed him that way too.

Since you were on video call, he came up with the idea of a mutual masturbation on camera thing, and while you had gone to get some things he had pulled his pants and boxers down, sighing in relief as his achingly hard cock was finally released from the confines of his tight jeans.

But what he hadn't expected was for you to come back in lingerie with a weirdly shaped glass dildo and lube. His blue eyes watched in amazement as you smiled at him through the camera, pushing your laptop far enough away that he could see all of you slumped against the headboard of your bed.

You wore his favorite set, a bra and panty ensemble made of chains of golden beads, leaving little to the imagination. His cock twitched as he watched you pull aside your panty, running a finger along your folds tantalizingly as you stared directly into the camera, lust clouding your gaze.

Kiro let out a sigh as his hand gripped around his cock, fighting back the urge to lean his head back as he watched you through half-lidded eyes. You had moved to open the bottle of lube, pouring some of it over the dildo. He got a better look at it. It was narrow and curved, as if it were meant to stimulate a certain spot inside of you. He watched eagerly as you slid it in after spreading the lube around generously, mouth open into a perfect "o".

Slowly, you began moving the toy inside you, and Kiro stroked his cock at the same pace, the head flushed a bright red as he spread the pre cum leaking from it over his cock with his hand. You slowly began moving it faster inside you, and as you did Kiro's pace picked up as well. Before long, the both of you were panting, moaning messes, watching the other pleasure themselves through the screen.

Kiro's cheeks were flushed a deep red, sweat pouring from his brow as low groans left him, the rings on his finger a sharp, cold contrast to the warmth of his hand, which he was currently picturing as the soft, sopping warmth of your cunny.

A particularly loud groan left him, a sign that he was close, and you picked up the pace dramatically, knowing it was what he needed to push him over the edge. Kiro came with a loud groan, his cum coating his hand in thick spurts. As he came down from his high, he watched as your face contorted, and then you were cumming, clear liquid spraying from your cunny. Some of it landed on the camera, and Kiro felt his refractory period become non-existent as his cock hardened again.

Your body slumped against the pillows, your thighs closed tightly together, the toy lay forgotten next to you.

There was only one thought on Kiro's mind after that.

"How did you do that?"

Gavin

This man was a pure virgin baby, hadn't watched anything more than a couple creampie compilations in his free time

So he also knew nothing about squirting

He knew that the calluses on his hands felt pleasurable to you, especially when he was prepping you to take his cock

And while he couldn't quite get the spot you wanted him to get with his fingers, he certainly could with his cock

You had asked him many times if he was sure he hadn't had sex before because God sex with him was heavenly, but he vehemently denied it (it was the truth after all)

So when he was balls deep inside you, with those slow, deep, hard thrusts, he knew you were in ecstasy

But he didn't expect when you came for his dick to literally get forced out of your cunny as clear liquid gushed from it, coating his hips and thighs

He's been entranced with it ever since

If you're feeling up to it, you'll squirt at least once when you two have sex

Its how he knows he's making you feel good

Gavin's fingers slid out of your sopping cunny, moving to undo his belt as he kneeled in front of you. You were laid out on his bed, legs spread wide to accommodate him. He had just gotten back from a mission and with him uninjured, neither of you hesitated to jump each other's bones.

In your haste, you had completely ignored each other's shirts, instead immediately ripping down your shorts and underwear, Gavin apologizing with a deep blush on his face as he pulled you in for a kiss full of tongue and passion as he massaged your aching cunny. Then he slowly slid the first finger in. Prepping you for his cock always seemed like the most torturous teasing, especially when he had been away on missions long enough for him to have to prep you all over again. You'd much rather him be able to get you sopping wet, effortlessly slipping those two fingers inside of you, confirming you were ready for him.

But right now, the stretch wasn't something you were used to, and stung slightly as he had scissored the long, thick digits inside of you, hitting spots only your toys could reach. And even then, it wasn't near as good as what was happening now.

Gavin had pulled down his pants and boxers just enough to release his stiff cock, leaking pre cum as he stroked himself once, twice before pulling your hips towards him. He lined his thick cock up with your hole, coating his tip in your copious juices before his golden eyes met yours. His brunette bangs hung low in his face, his golden eyes smoldering as he waited for your confirmation. You nodded once, and he pushed in.

The stretch burned, but God did it feel good to have him inside you again. Gavin groaned, bottoming out inside of you, head thrown back as he tried to hold onto any self-control he had. He really wanted to rail you at that moment, but he knew if he didn't want to hurt you, you needed the adjustment period. Plus, staying still would keep him from cumming too quickly.

He kept still until your hips began moving, wanting him to move. Watching you grind on him gave him an idea. Without warning he pulled out then flipped the both of you over, holding your hips above his aching cock.

"How about you ride me tonight?" He asked, a smile on his face.

Without thinking you nodded, sliding his cock back inside you with a bit more ease this time. After finding a comfortable rhythm, you began bouncing on his cock, grinding on him in a way that made you see stars and made him audibly groan.

Gavin watched in awe as you worked yourself on him, using his body for your own pleasure. You looked beautiful in his eyes, the amazing warmth around his cock an added bonus as he watched your lips part, a series of low moans leaving you as you began to grind on him. He groaned as you clenched on him, and without warning he flipped the both of you back over, whispering a quiet "Sorry" before delivering a slow, hard, deep thrust in your cunny.

Your moans became exponentially louder, each thrust hitting every perfect spot. Your gummy walls drew his cock in further, and before long he was humping you like there was no tomorrow. Without warning you came, the squeeze forcing his cock out of your warmth as clear liquid gushed from you, coating his hips and cock as he watched your hole flutter and your clit throb.

At that point, he had forgotten entirely about his own orgasm as he watched you slump against the sheets, trying to catch your breath.

"Can you do that again?" Gavin breathed.

Shaw

Another one actively looking to make you squirt

He's got an advantage here- in small doses, he can use his Evol to stimulate you

He might pinch your nipple then give you a small shock, rub your clit and do the same, or even give you those delicious shocks while he has two fingers knuckle-deep in your cunny

With the massive sex appeal oozing from this man, it's not surprise he's got a high sex drive, meaning he's horny almost all the time

But when he got you to squirt, oh boy

He got even more addicted

He has a slight sadistic streak, and no matter what if you two are having sex he's going to make you squirt

Most of the time, it's going to be more than once, too

Shaw had already sent you over the edge twice just from rubbing and shocking your clit alone, and now he was going for a third. Your legs clenched in protest. He had given you no breaks from the moment your first orgasm hit until now, his fingers furiously rubbing on your clit as you pleaded with him to stop.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm not stopping until you give me what I want," He cooed, a smirk on his face as his sweat-soaked lilac locks fell into his face. His golden eyes drank in your sweat-soaked and overstimulated form hungrily, an idea slowly forming in his head as his eyes trailed to your weeping cunny.

"In fact," He said, his smirk growing wider. "I'll help you out a little."

Before you could get anything else out, he had shoved his middle and ring finger of his other hand knuckle-deep in your cunny, probing and searching for that one spot he knew would give him what he wanted. And when your back arched, a tell-tale sign that he had found it, his pace became ruthless.

Squelching filled the room as he quickly thrust his fingers in and out of you, rhythmically shocking you as he did. Your moans quickly got louder, as well as your pleas for respite as another orgasm began brewing.

"I'll let you rest in a minute, darling," Shaw smiled at you, shocking you again. "You're close, aren't you? Such a filthy slut, getting off on a few shocks." He slapped your clit before going back to abusing the nub. "C'mon princess, cum for me. Make a mess all over."

And that was all it took for the band to snap. You came around his fingers, hard. The clear fluid Shaw had been searching for gushed from your cunny as you coated his fingers, which were thrusting at a slightly slower pace. He praised you throughout the orgasm, managing to pull just a little bit more of the fluid from your sore cunny before you slumped, boneless and in need of a nap.

Shaw slowed his pace down gradually until his fingers weren't moving at all, slowly pulling them out before licking up the copious amounts of fluid coating his hand.

"Good girl. You can rest, for now."

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