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#and you just sigh and haul him in
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hi Wifi! Take all the time you need!! I enjoy everything you make so I don't mind how much you take with any of what i share :DD honestly it's impressive how you run this place almost daily with so much love poured into it
As for sharing something for MerMay. It's a little basic, but the fisher gets fished? Think of an urban legend, a pretty new one, about a creature so beautiful no words could ever do it justice, a maw in vibrant ruby that could pierce a whole in even the largest ships. As a bounty hunter, this is a new trophy to be claimed.
That is until you see it ya know? *It is* majestic, a beauty undeserving of being hooked away from it's home. But it's also like, unbearably cute? How is such a concept allowed to exist?
Underwater, it's hair is flowing everywhere, demonstrating how illegally soft it is, yet it's that curious, doe eye it's giving from below that's just so... adorable?! Putting up a mean front does nothing really, it just ends with a splash of water to the face. Which honestly isn't as upsetting as it is endearing.
Trying to catch the beast eventually leads to befriending it, since it lets itself get caught (by you and only you) before disappearing the next day, then discovering its a he and his name is Foul Legacy and in a blink of an eye the friendship has moved on to a sort of travel partnership, being asked to dive off your ship every day to swim with him and explore the water🥹 (he'll always keep you safe and oxygenated)
So in the end you didn't get your trophy, inversely, you're his prized catch!!
- mothnip anon
*rubs hands together* luckily i absolutely ADORE this trope, it's basic but so so good
you barely regret letting the creature go, watching it flick its long tail and disappear back into the depths of the sea, leaving you alone on your ship. a flash of dismay runs through you before it suddenly fades. there's a sense of intense satisfaction knowing that the monster will live to see another day, and you turn back to your work with a small smile- you need a few fish for dinner, after all- the sun slowly setting beneath the horizon. it's a calm day, not a cloud in the sky, but there's a small splash behind you, and when you turn there's a small pile of fish on the floor of your boat, still flopping. the tip of a tail disappears back under the water with a small ripple, and your eyes sparkle with cheer at the sight of a massive shadow swimming beneath you
you're never alone when you're sailing after that, the beast constantly following you and getting purposefully tangled in your nets- after a while you just expect that the first "catch" you make will inevitably be the monster. but it chirps and purrs so happily when it sees you and has sparkly fins and its- his- name is Foul Legacy, and you can't deny that you love him. in the early morning, when no one else is around, he'll flop his armored body onto your boat, trilling in delight when you cup his cheeks, fins shivering happily. he'll nudge you and tug on the edges of your clothes, asking you to go swimming with him, and when you agree his crystalline eye shines as bright as the sun. it's the best time to hug you, when both of you are floating in the water- he can wrap his tail around you much easier, bubbles floating from his fanged maw as he chitters and bumps his forehead tenderly against yours
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tonycries · 1 month
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Unmistakably Yours - G.S.
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Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.5k
A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.
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Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.
He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.
Because you weren’t here.
“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left. 
Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you? 
With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-
“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”
“Where is she?”
---
It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse. 
Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything. 
Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly. 
One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.
He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?
Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere. 
God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-
That was when you felt it. 
The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe. 
You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words. 
Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.
“My love?”
Satoru.
It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought. 
Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go. 
All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own. 
A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back. 
“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms. 
It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you? 
Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru. 
“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him. 
He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-
Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.
Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.
You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by. 
Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend. 
“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”
Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core. 
Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”
There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra. 
Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.
Shit. He’s lost it.
Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you. 
Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.
Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?
Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 
Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.
The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.
But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.
Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.
It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.
Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-
“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”
With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker. 
“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”
You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”
“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now. 
“But-”
“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”
Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.
Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”
“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”
And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down. 
Rip!
It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity. 
He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor. 
“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”
That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”
Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.
Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts. 
And it was so unfair. 
Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were. 
And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt. 
Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used. 
And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now. 
“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.
“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”
He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you. 
And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything. 
“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”
“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”
You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance. 
But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.
Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier. 
“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”
And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.
You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close. 
“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. 
But it wasn’t fast enough. 
Not for Satoru, at least.
Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-
That cheat. 
You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard. 
Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time. 
“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-” 
One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. 
Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything. 
Desperate. Violent, even.
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of. 
And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue. 
“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes. 
Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild. 
Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then. 
You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time. 
You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”
“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”
“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum. 
He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.
Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 
Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice. 
And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick. 
God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy. 
And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. 
“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…” 
“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”
“But-”
God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t. 
Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him. 
Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break. 
It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks. 
“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.
He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.
Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.
“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”
You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”
“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”
“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”
And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face. 
If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting. 
“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.
And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”
At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow. 
Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet. 
“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic.  “I’m…”
“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.
It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.
“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”
“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”
And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut. 
Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it. 
Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-
“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”
Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”
And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.
Pretty. Always so fucking pretty. 
And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.
Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.
“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”
It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind. 
“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”
The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain. 
And then it’s black. 
---
“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”
Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so. 
And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.
Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?
“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”
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A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel? 
Plagiarism not authorized.
15K notes · View notes
batshit-auspol · 6 months
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I really enjoy this blog so much. Gimme your most favorite batshit auspolitics moment from the 2000s to 2010s. please. i am morbidly curious.
2007: The APEC conference, where all global leaders converge in one city to pretend like they're doing things, is to be held in Sydney, Australia. With the war on terror in full swing, security is at a maximum, and large swathes of the city are placed behind a giant multi-layered steel fence to keep the world leaders far away from the unwashed masses.
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Attempting to ward off trouble, organisers of the conference hold a meeting with notorious political comedy prank group "The Chaser", to tell them they are, under absolutely no circumstances getting anywhere near any world leaders, and to not even bother trying.
"The whole perimeter is secure," security forces told them sternly. "The only thing getting through that fence is a motorcade."
24 hours later The Chaser were on their way towards the fence with a motorcade.
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Now a few things should have tipped off security guards that this fake Canadian motorcade was not a the real deal. Number one: Canada wasn't at the conference, number two: no country has actually had security running alongside cars since the 60s, and three: most security guards don't carry video cameras with them or passes that read "this is fake".
Nevertheless the ruse was more successful than anyone had anticipated, and The Chaser team were happily waved into the most secure area on planet earth by police, who informed the incognito comedians that "the road is yours."
Reaching the outside of George Bush's hotel, the pranksters now began to worry that they were never going to be stopped by police and decided to get out of the car and walk back to the fence.
While dressed as Osama Bin Laden.
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At this point all hell broke loose. Snipers were locked on. Confused police scrambled, and immediately arrested the whole group, only breathing a sigh of relief when they saw the words "Chaser" on the fake security passes.
Bizarrely the police opted to give a full escort to the guy dressed in a suit, and allowed the other man cosplaying as the world's most wanted terrorist to just casually walk out on his own before booking him at the perimeter.
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The Chaser team said that while being put in a cell overnight wasn't fun, they were less stressed after police started visiting to ask for photos and signatures.
The prank group were later hauled before the courts and threatened with a massive fine, but the case was eventually dropped after they successfully argued that it's not technically breaking-in if the cops happily wave you into a high security zone.
Needless to say they have changed that law for future APECs.
Making light of the situation, the prank group also returned to the site a few days later dressed as carboard cars, to see just how flimsy a disguise could get past police.
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This time at least, they were not let in.
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bluelockmaniac · 23 days
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prisonguard!jjkmen X prisoner!reader ★ slight suggestiveness + gn!reader
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prisonguard!satoru who shamelessly makes out with you, unbothered by the agape mouths of the prisoners in the surrounding cells. he shoots them a menacing glare, silently threatening them to keep their tongues locked in their mouths if they know what's best for them. he then gently pulls your curious (and slightly aroused) face closer to his, until your cheeks pressed against the cold metal of the iron bars. despite the barrier, he was able to capture your sweet lips fervently, slightly nibbling on the soft, addictive flesh.
prisonguard!nanami who openly delivers the warmest meals and the comfiest clothes directly to your cell, ignoring the envious gazes of covetous prisoners who were painfully aware of the privileges you had, that they lacked. the other guards held him in high regard due to his intimidating reputation, so when they caught him hauling a thick mattress, coupled with a fluffy pillow and blanket, slung effortlessly over his broad shoulder just for you, they immediately casted you in a new light— surely you were wronged, right?
prisonguard!sukuna who plays a dangerous game, sneaking into your cell late at night in a vulgarly obtrusive manner, as if he held no interest in the possibility of rousing all the vile convicts from their deep slumber. he settles himself homely on the edge of the wooden plank you called your ‘bed’, and while you couldn’t see his face properly due to the dimmed lighting, you can practically feel the smirk forming on his lips as he pulls you onto his lap, whispering temptations laced with a certain bittersweetness, promising that he’ll get you out of here one day—but not yet. he still wants to use you.
prisonguard!toji who couldn't care less about concealing his painfully obvious favoritism towards you. while he cruelly forces the inmates to do all the labour, having them sweep the dirty floors of the institution, scrub the filthy metal toilets of each cell, and handle the reeking laundry, you were innocently seated on his spread lap, in his office. you giggle softly as he plants kisses with blatant intentions on your hair, trailing down to your nape, all while you flip through the brand-new magazine he had bought exclusively for you.
prisonguard!choso whose careful footsteps echo down the walkway early in the morning, drawing closer to your cell as he does every single day. he enters quietly, a smile spreading across his face when he sees you waiting for him on the edge of your dented bed, wide awake, with the scalpel he had gifted you resting lightly in your grip. you quickly stand and move to the cement wall where dates, names, and vulgarity were carved. sighing happily, you feel him standing behind you, his chest pressing against your back. he gently guides your hand with the scalpel to the wall, slowly chipping away at the concrete to write a number. three. you glance back at him with a smirk, which he responds with a ticklish pinch on the plush of your waist. three more days till he gets you the fuck out of here.
prisonguard!suguru who flashes you one of his notorious smiles, your eyes immediately drawn to the prison guard’s uniform hanging from his arm, then to the scarlet-tinted baton he held carelessly in his other hand. your lips curl upwards into a grin of delight, laughing as you fathom the fact that he actually followed through on his promise. you quickly loop your arms around his neck, kissing him softly, before taking the slightly oversized uniform and dressing up while no one, prisoner or guard, was watching. after you were finished, he walked confidently down the hallway with you by his side. no guard bothered to question the unfamiliar face beside him. he didn’t even have to use the excuse of patrol duty. ultimately, he was able to successfully orchestrate your escape. but not to worry, he has you safely and comfortably hidden in his apartment after a search for you was later launched that day.
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© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !
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oceantornadoo · 2 months
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your weighted blanket (simon riley x f!reader)
could be part of this two lieutenants series but it’s standalone
“you know what i want?”
“wha’?”
“a weighted blanket.”
simon turned away from his bedroom desk to stare at you, his dark eyes squinting incredulously.
“what?! i think it’d help me sleep.”
“wha’ the fuck is a weighted blanket.”
you huffed a sigh. “it’s literally a weighted blanket simon. having weight pressing down on you helps you sleep, it’s scientifically proven.” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you laid back on his bed.
turning off his desk lamp, he made his way to his bed. he joined you on top of the covers, giving you plenty of space. keeping it platonic. not that he wanted to, but that was another thing.
“can’t jus’ have some sop lay on you?” the words hurt coming out, but it was the only thing he could say. desperately looking for a sign that you were talking to someone as you were so tightlipped about your escapades until after they ended.
“i’m on a man break. they all suck.” no one measured up to the unending care simon gave you, even if he was just a friend. just a friend who lets you come into his room every night, talking yourself to sleep. just a friend who never forgets your favorite body wash or candle scent on supply runs.
“they don’t know how to treat a woman like you.” his words echoed in the dark, ideas of what they meant bouncing around in your brain. “a woman like me?” silence. “don’t be mean, si.”
fuck he was so stupid. needed to watch his tone better, like gaz was always telling him. “dove, jus’ meant a smart independent woman like yourself. yer lookin’ for a partner and they’re look for a mother or a fuck. or both.” your jaw dropped. “oh. thanks.” his words thickened the air. no one had ever talked about you like that, like you were something to be treasured, not kept. like he respected you.
“if you really need a weighted blanket i-“ “yeah?” you sounded too eager, but you didn’t care. you turned towards him, catching his eye in the gleam of the base lights outside his window. “could be yers. if you want. strictly platonic.” he scratched his head, looking away. embarrassed. “yeah, platonic. course, yeah. that’s fine. good, i mean.” you needed to get your act together and stop sounding like a teenager, but he just offered to be your blanket. surely that was more than platonic.
“now?”
“sure.”
you sat on his bed like a dead fish, arms at your sides. you were not about to initiate what surely would be the most awkward non-cuddle session in your life. simon pressed one large paw into the mattress, hauling his huge body up on one arm. he moved down farther on the bed, his head parallel to your ribs. then, with the uttermost care, he shifted on top of you, hovering. waiting. “you can lay on me si, it’s okay.” he released his hands slowly, the full force of his body laying on you. 250+ pounds of pure machine, a body honed from years in the military. a soldier, a sniper, a lieutenant, now at your mercy, body covering yours completely.
“not too weighted for you?” you giggled. an actual giggle from his fellow lieutenant. “no, si. not too weighted.” your hand instinctively went to his hair before you could stop yourself. “is this comfortable? you’re on my ribs.” he grunted. it actually hurt like a bitch, your bone pressing into him through layers of fat, but he was laying on you and therefore could not complain. “you can move up, i won’t mind.” well, if you were letting him. he wanted to make the most of this blanket situation, this type of intimacy so foreign to him.
simon scooted up your body and laid his head on your tits. built-in pillows, one might call them. you hand went to his hair again, slowly scratching his scalp. “this ok?” you never touched like this, had never touched him like something precious. he grunted, a yes in “ghost” as you liked to call it. you continued running your hand through his hair, surprised at the softness of his locks. his face was against your breast, and usually you’d be embarrassed, but lines had been crossed and all bets were off. his body was heavy, sure, but the weight of it was comforting. all you could think of was him, not the annoying recruit from this morning, not the bad dinner you had at the mess hall. only the smell of the base shampoo and his natural musk, something uniquely him but not gross.
all simon could hear was your heartbeat. it had quickened when he first laid down, but now it was slowing to a comforting beat. you were here, you were breathing. the gunfire and the smell of bombs in his head meant nothing as long as he had you like this, in his arms where no one could hurt you. he could feel your body relaxing, muscles losing the day’s tension and giving themselves over to sleep. as your breathing slowed and you moved to a lower, more comfortable position on his pillow, he knew time could stop and all that would matter was you, right here, with him.
--
part one part two part three part four
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forlix · 6 months
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· . ˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞
— the little mannerisms you pick up from the members of stray kids over the course of your relationship.
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words・3.7k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / genres・fluff, humor, borderline crack, intentional lowercase, established relationship(s) / warnings・minsung’s are suggestive, touch of anxiety in felix's, jeongin's is lowkey gross LMFAO
a/n・massive shoutout to @/http.dwaekkii on tiktok for their edits about the boys' habits, which i consulted for chan, changbin, seungmin, and jeongin (and to @astraystayyh for beta reading hehe. what would i do without u). these were sooooo fun to write, hope u guys enjoy (。˃ ᵕ ˂ )
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chan + getting shy easily. poor thing gets embarrassed so quickly as it is. throw you into the mix and it’s just critical hit after critical hit. defense lowered. no health potions left. he folds like a lawn chair with a massive smile and a whiny “stooooop” every time you say something even remotely affectionate. the habit is adorable, and you love it to pieces.
but you like poking fun at it even more. “god forbid i find my literal underwear model of a boyfriend attractive,” you’d say, or something along those lines, which of course only triples his embarrassment and on more than one occasion results in him starfishing on your kitchen floor, his hood pulled over his face.
fast forward however many months. he’s still the worst compliment-receiver you know, but you discover one arbitrary afternoon that it’s rubbed off on you.
the two of you are cuddled together on the living room couch in your usual fashion, your legs thrown over his thighs and his hands tracing absently over your shins as you relay to him something you overheard on the subway. the conversation is painfully normal. you’re almost bored. you pause to take a breath, and he murmurs, out of nowhere, in the dreamiest tone: “so damn beautiful.”
“wha—huh? what is?”
“you. your voice, your face, everything. i‘m lucky.”
your expression of bewilderment persists for around ten seconds, and then slowly, so slowly, you begin to sandwich your head between your knees, balling yourself up like a spooked armadillo. chan wonders if he should call an ambulance.
“love?” no response. “what, uh, what’s happening right now, exactly?”
no response. no response. then, hoarsely, “you can’t...say shit like that…randomly.”
he notices two things after that. one, your skin is burning hot enough to fry something upon, and two, you’ve formed a fist in the fabric of his hoodie, which you only do when you’re pretending to be annoyed at him. the puzzle pieces fall into place, and he starts grinning like a madman.
“you’re…embarrassed?”
the guttural groan you emit is more than enough of an answer, and the cute aggression that overcomes chan is fucking debilitating. he wraps his arms around you and hauls you entirely off the couch and onto his lap, littering kisses over your face until it finally resigns into a matching smile. all intent to continue feigning grumpiness erased with the drop of a hat. you drape an arm over his neck.
“you’re so good to me, channie,” you sigh helplessly. “i love you.”
“love you more, baby.” he imprints these words directly upon your lips, then pulls away, giggles. “that was very me of you, by the way.”
“i know, right? i was just about to say.”
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minho + butt touching. it’s quite simple, really. if lee minho is within proximity of someone’s buttocks, he will, as he lives and breathes, make it known. will it be a coy little swat or a yelp-eliciting, full-bodied grab? nobody ever knows, not even him. the unpredictability is what makes it exciting.
but it takes a while before this starts applying to you, because the way minho touches you is…different. doting. there’s no other way to describe how he always holds the nape of your neck while kissing you, how he rests a hand against the small of your back whenever he leads you somewhere, how during the nights you can’t sleep he guides you to the place on his chest where he knows his heartbeat is loudest. he even drags you into his trademark headlocks the same way one would hold an invaluable treasure. he’s so obsessed with all of you that he never thinks to pay just your butt special attention (though it is, indeed, a special butt).
you take it into your own hands. literally.
you don’t know what prompts it—maybe you’ve simply seen minho slap his members’ asses one too many times, or maybe you’re still thinking of the specific time minho slapped changbin’s ass in passing and it fucking echoed, or maybe minho just looks especially fine in this practice outfit, a skintight tee and washed sweatpants that hug him in all the right places—but you feel a new urge today as your boyfriend swings his duffel over his shoulder, circles around the kitchen counter.
he puckers up as he nears you, silently requesting his goodbye; you give it to him, relishing for a moment in the familiar, soft plush of his lips beneath yours. then he pulls away and turns to leave, and your hand acquires its target.
“go get ‘em, tiger.” thwack!
minho jumps a foot into the air. clutches his pearls and his left butt cheek. becomes the splitting image of that perplexed blonde lady surrounded by geometry.
but when he turns around to stare at you, the smirk melting across his face betrays how he really feels about what you’ve just done. good. really good.
you, meanwhile, look genuinely confused. “it’s like it moved on its own.”
minho beams. steps towards you daintily, intentionally, like a cat catching sight of a laser beam. brings a hand to your hip, murmurs, “that’s what we’re doing now?” kisses you again, for longer this time.
you fully foresee his fingers wandering to your ass to give it a gentle squeeze, but you reach up to cuff his shoulder when it happens anyways, and his laugh vibrates against your mouth. it seems you’ll be reaping what you’ve sown from now on.
(good luck.)
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changbin + the Cackle™. yes, you said something exceptionally funny. yes, you expected changbin to find it funny too. but you couldn’t expect the godforsaken noise that left his mouth as he threw himself straight into the tree planter behind you.
your mind spun with frantic questions as you helped him out of the dirt. had the spirit of spongebob just usurped his vocal cords? were you on a date with the wicked witch of the west? most importantly—
“are you well?” you sputtered, which only made him laugh harder and his laugh so much crazier, so you started laughing, too. and you were goners, falling over each other until you’d been reduced to watery eyes and sore cheeks, your giggling interrupted only by the sound of you slapping his thigh every so often, heartily enough to reverberate around the little park in which you concluded your second date.
that’s how you fall for seo changbin: laughing. with a reckless, breathless abandon you didn’t think possible. stumbling across empty sidewalks, spitting noodles across dining tables, begging for mercy on studio couches. wrestling under tear-stained comforters, starting (and re-starting) silly stories, huffing into beaming kisses. the list goes on.
you never quite get used to that chortle of his, too busy enjoying its insanity to notice how your own chuckles grow shorter and shriller, how they gradually develop an edge like the chittering of a forest dweller.
you complete your transformation on your ninety-eighth date. 
no, changbin doesn’t say anything exceptionally funny. no, he doesn’t expect you to find it exceptionally funny, either. he expects least of all for you to fold over the kitchen island and start cackling like cruella de vil on helium.
jisung turns around from his seat on the couch. chan’s footsteps come to a halt as he emerges from the bathroom. both of them have fear in their eyes as they witness your undoing.
the only thing on changbin’s face, though, is unfettered delight.
“b-baby,” he sputters with a growing smile. “are you—”
you lift your face off the marble surface and turn to face him. the entirety of your forehead and the point of your nose is covered in flour. you blow a cloud of the stuff out of your mouth like a dragon awoken from slumber.
he loses it.
the two of you make your way onto the floor in slow motion, ending in a tangled heap against the side of the counter. changbin tries to clean off the flour and smears it all over your cheeks instead. you are zero help whatsoever, smacking his bicep like that’ll help you catch your breath. your synchronized, diabolical laughter reaches every corner of the apartment. your happiness reaches every nerve ending.
chan and jisung look at each other and sigh. jisung takes a video.
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hyunjin + side-eyeing. this man is so god awful at controlling his face, bless him…and DAMN HIM.
on one hand, you love how in tune with his emotions he is, how confidently he puts them on display. and you love your synergy. you come closer to believing in soulmates every time you glance his way and discover your exact feelings written all over his features; it’s a special type of happiness, sharing a brain with your favorite person in the world.
on the other hand, you think there’s a time and place for candor, and he tends, well, not to think at all. during many a precarious situation, you’ll catch him wearing an expression so transparent that he might as well arrange the words THIS IS STUPID AND I HATE ALL OF YOU over his head in neon lights. cue a dig of your heel into his toe, a hiss of pain cut short by your piercing glare. if you’d known ahead of time that dating hwang hyunjin would have you doing so much damage control…you’d still date him, let’s be real. but you do get stressed at times.
the night the tables turn, you’re at a celebratory dinner for your coworker’s birthday. small caveat: you can’t stand her. she’s the type to spontaneously combust if she goes two minutes without talking about herself. certainly doesn’t help that she’s downing champagne like water, and her lips are looser than ever.
hyunjin comes with you, fortunately. or not. he spends the whole evening trying so hard not to laugh: snorting into his bread, excusing himself to “cough.” you think he actually starts doing breathing exercises at some point. you’re so, so grateful that he’s here, but you’re also deathly afraid that he’s gonna bring out those neon lights in front of your entire office.
then, she flirts with him.
from the opposite end of the table. perfectly wasted but still knowing perfectly well that he’s yours. the whole patio goes silent. hyunjin’s jaw hits the table.
your fork clatters to your plate.
FUCK time and place.
the side-eye you give her is devastating. truly masterful. your brow furrows. your eyes turn to slits. your gaze does the up-down-up of unadulterated incredulity. hyunjin recognizes the motions straightaway and starts smiling so hard his whole face hurts.
you take your boyfriend’s wrist and stand up. he follows suit. you don’t say a thing as you leave the restaurant, and you don’t have to. the intensity of your disdain was more than enough; anything more and she might’ve started crying.
once you’re on the curb outside, hyunjin pulls on your interlocked hands, brings you close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear. you hear laughter and his smirk in his voice: “you might be the sexiest person on earth."
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jisung + how he applies lip balm. that han jisung is the pioneer of modern day babygirlism is the worst kept secret in the world. that han jisung applies lip balm the riveting way he does, however, is unknown even to you. until one morning.
you pop into the bathroom and make your usual beeline for your toothbrush, only to end up motionless in front of the sink, staring. jisung is a bit off to the side, hair pinned back by a cinnamoroll headband, eyes glued to his phone, hand holding a tube of chapstick that you can actually see getting shorter in real time. he looks so pensive, so concentrated. how long has it been since he last blinked? you’ve half a mind to pull out a stopwatch.
finally, he rubs his lips together, recaps the chapstick, and makes eye contact with you in the mirror. a smile crosses his face, equal parts confused and amused.
“baby, your mouth is open.”
you close it. then you open it again, and your words come out in a barely-contained laugh: “what on earth did you just do?”
“what do you mean?”
“the—” you point at his mouth, then do your best impression of an elementary schooler trying to color inside the lines. “—that.”
jisung looks aghast. “that was LIP BALM.”
“no, i know what it—you’re so—i meant, why do you apply it like that?”
jisung continues to look aghast. “like what?”
“like you’re one of socrates’ prized pupils and the answer to the universe’s formation lies at the bottom of—” you step in close, reach into the pocket of his sweatpants. “—this tube!”
it might be the craziest thing you’ve ever said to him. he bursts into laughter, the kind that leaves him no recollection of what he does with his limbs, and when he can see straight again he discovers he’s pressed you gently against the counter. his fingers latched around the hem of your top, his grin inches away from yours. can’t stay away from you to save his life, this one.
“do i actually?”
“yes! holy shit, it’s so cute.” your arms circle around his neck, also without an ounce of thought, also through a fit of giggles. “no way you’ve always done that, right?”
“i don’t know. i’ve never thought about it.” a pause. a tilt of his head, with purpose. “am i…doing it wrong?”
the question is a trap and you realize it too late. your gaze drops from his eyes to his lips—a ray of sunlight glistens off the pink plush like a paid actor—then back to his eyes. let’s find out.
you lean in. so does he. and his mouth tastes and feels like melted fucking sugar. it’s such a pleasant surprise that you actually moan, and he chuckles against you. lifts you onto the edge of the sink. your mind really goes empty after that, save for one thought. i have to start doing that.
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felix + checking his own pulse. you saw it from afar, the first time.
he stood by the stage’s entrance just before curtain up, pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of his neck. eyelids sealed closed, chest heaving. you tilted your head, puzzled. worried. then the concert began, and you pushed the image to the back of your mind.
it returned to the forefront right before bed.
“you do it when you’re nervous?”
“yeah. forces me to ground myself. turns off the world for a bit.” the hand rubbing circles into your back paused. “wanna give it a go?”
“what, checking my pulse?”
“mine.”
you lifted your head off the pillow. felix took your hand from where it sat upon his ribs, isolating two fingers and nestling them over his jugular. his quickened heartbeat pressed into your skin like the world’s gentlest tattoo.
the sixty seconds began and concluded in total silence.
“well?” he whispered.
“ninety-three,” you answered, lightheaded from the sheer intimacy of it all. “you’re nervous right now?”
“something like that,” he hummed. pulled you down, kissed you deeply. there were no more words exchanged that night.
the habit surfaced more than you knew. while driving to visit your parents. after a stupid argument with a bouquet of flowers tucked beneath his free arm. you started doing it for him in the times he couldn’t, and he’d cover your hand with his own and kiss the top of your head silently, gratefully.
two years have passed since, and you’ve vanished from the dinner table.
felix asks the nearest waiter for directions to the restrooms. you don’t notice when the door swings open, unmoving in your spot over the sink, your pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of your neck. 
his hand finds your hip. you let him turn you around and bring you to his chest; he glances at the crystalline droplets studding your lashes and falling from your cheeks. his eyes convey what his mouth doesn’t need to, not anymore.
let me.
you do.
his fingers replace yours the moment you drop them from under your jaw, the movement like clockwork. he counts your every heartbeat with unblinking concentration, his heart growing heavier the higher the number climbs.
the sixty seconds begin and conclude in total silence. 
“well?” you whisper.
“hundred and six,” he answers. to his confusion, a smile pulls at your lips. 
he wonders if it’s a trick of the bathroom lights when he sees the tiny box you pluck from your pocket, but there’s no mistaking the reality of the diamond ring that sits behind its open lid.
the earth slants under his feet.
“crazy.” you giggle through your tears, run your thumb over his cheekbone. “that’s how many years i want with you.”
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seungmin + poking eyes(?) he’s hardly touched puppym when your voice is slicing through the living room air like a fucking beyblade. 
“KIM SEUNGMIN, UNHAND HIM THIS INSTANT.”
do you have a sixth sense just for this? he throws his hands up in exasperation. “he’s literally me. i’m allowed to do whatever i want with me.”
“he’s not you, he’s our son.” you pop out of nowhere to swipe the plushie from over your boyfriend’s shoulder. “my son, if you keep this up.”
“just say you hate me and my preferred avenues of self expression.”
upside-down, he watches you dust off puppym��s face and smooch his forehead with a tenderness that makes seungmin unhappier than he lets on. you then tuck him into your jacket pocket. the little shit’s expression looks strangely smug poking out of its cotton capsule.
“i’m asking you to not gauge his eyes out, not to deliver me the holy grail,” you say. “you’ll survive.”
but then he feels your hands on either side of his face, and you lean over him like the mj to his peter, leave a kiss on the space between his eyes, too. he has zero say in the bashful smile this brings to his face.
“but why do you do that, seriously?” you mutter.
“i have no idea,” he replies. “but it’s fun. try it.”
“i’ll think about it.” you lean in again, and he nearly forgets what you were talking about in the first place when you kiss him on the lips this time. “okay, i’ve thought about it. no.”
“hate you,” he says despite the literal hearts in his eyes, and then you’re off to work.
puppym takes strikingly after his father. they have the same bangs. the same compulsively squeezable quality. the same little :3 that can only allude to sinister plottings. you’d be loath to admit that you sort of comprehend seungmin’s poking predisposition.
one night, seungmin falls asleep before you even finish your nighttime routine, and you spot in his peaceful, upturned face an opportunity.
you lie belly-down on your side of the bed. your fingers splay into a peace-sign in the air. your smile stretches further into a cheshire grin the closer you bring your hand. you’re just about to reach the ends of his eyelashes when—
“I KNEW IT!”
you almost catapult into the ceiling. then you try to make a mad dash for the bathroom. but seungmin shoots a hand around your wrist like he’s actually peter parker and pins you down before you so much as take a step. your only remaining option is to sulk about your foiled plans. (and blush, because, well, you’re under him.)
“amateur,” he tsks. “you gotta test my breathing to make sure i’m asleep first. shit’s foolproof.”
you blink at him for a few seconds. his words finally click.
now you almost catapult him into the ceiling.
“HOW MANY TIMES?”
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jeongin + eating food in one bite. so you might be an instigator.
“hwuck,” he grumbles around the whole ice cream cone in his mouth, face scrunched up in a brain-freeze-induced wince. “ayee ith waz a bah iyeah.” (translation: fuck, maybe this was a bad idea.)
“you got this. just take it slow,” you urge, except he’s stopped moving and speaking and closed his eyes as if he’s descending into a deep sleep. you’re actually concerned for about two seconds, and then his jaw begins to oscillate leisurely like an elderly cow in his favorite pasture. false alarm.
after some time, he swallows, beams. “so am i the fucking best or what.”
“yeah you are,” you echo, and he swings an arm over your shoulder, plants a chocolatey kiss on your temple. the two of you celebrate his daesangs with less enthusiasm.
“when are you doing that with me, by the way?”
“the one-bite thing?” he nods. “mmm, coaches don’t play.”
“mmm, this one will.”
“doubtful.”
fast forward a few weeks and you, jeongin, and his younger brother are sitting cross-legged on the porch in his backyard. three full-sized oranges rest in the center of your makeshift circle. damn is yoon hard to say no to. (runs in the family.)
“the rules!” he declares. “eat the orange whole! first to swallow it wins! you can’t spit it out!”
you wait. “is that it?”
“yes!”
why was the delivery so grand?
jeongin places a fond hand atop his brother’s head. “i’ve brought you a new loser, yoonie. get excited.”
you feign an indifferent scoff, but jeongin spots the fire that ignites behind your eyes like that of an anime protagonist, the resolute grip with which you palm your orange. he smirks. he’s never known you to take trash talk sitting down. or sitting cross-legged on his porch.
yoon counts you off. “ready…”
“good luck, coach,” jeongin sings.
“shut up, pipsqueak.”
“set…GO!”
in amusing unison, you and yoon try and fail to fasten your teeth around even half of the fruit. jeongin, meanwhile, fits the whole thing into his black hole of an oral cavity and launches into that dumb cow impression again.
desperate times call for desperate measures.
you rip the orange from your lips. “yoon! your brother’s ticklish, right?”
both yang siblings’ eyes widen—the younger’s in growing delight, the older’s in impending horror.
the latter reacts first. “ay, ay, ay, ah ahes eh ooles!” (translation: wait, wait, wait, that’s against the rules!)
but the former moves first, and you’re right behind him.
jeongin weakens when the younger boy assaults his sides, crumples when you target the back of his neck, the sounds leaving his mouth getting progressively louder and somehow even less intelligible.
he eventually has to spit out the orange to avoid death by pulp going down the wrong pipe and spins around in indignation, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. but his annoyance—
you’re back on the floor, gnawing hopelessly at the the orange again. “ih ih eawahin, ooh.” (translation: this is embarrassing, yoon.)
yoon replies, “huh?” (translation: huh?)
—dissipates, immediately.
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© forlix (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!
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mondaymelon · 3 months
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₊⊹ "𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐨, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝…" | xiao, childe, alhaitham x gn!reader
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「 "𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮!!"」
— in which you've gotten drunk... drunk enough to fail to recognize your own lover.
— silly fluff. soft xiao, had this one in the drafts for far too long and its about time i choke it out... happy white day !!
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the moment your slurred words reached his ears, XIAO knew that he never should've let you get your hands on that cursed rice wine.
in a way, he supposed it could be his fault. the one time he had decided to indulge in trivial mortal matters like alcohol due to your constant insistence... well, just look at you.
red-faced, the tips of your ears and cheeks stuck in a helplessly drunken flush, you babbled incoherently with half of your face smushed against the table. xiao could only stare in contempt as you feebly reached towards the already-emptied bottle,
( xiao had taken one sip and refused any more indulgence, claiming it was bitter, when in fact, you had gone out of your way to find a sweeter drink ),
and sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose with a certain disillusionment.
"come on, you're getting to bed." the man was just about done with your hopeless actions. he grabbed your wrist and tugged, only to be met with resistance. you're pouting like a child, brows furrowed lazily as you stare upwards at him.
"nnno. m'not going with you."
"...excuse me?" what in the archons was the problem now? he tugged again, this time with a small margin of force, and was met with an even larger pull back, this time paired with a low whine. "hey, it's late, and all the wine is gone, so just comply with me won't you?"
"i already told you... i have a husband..."
your complaint met the cool night air and the adeptus' silence. his lips were slightly parted as his round eyes blinked once, then twice, in a sort of stunned stupor. "...love, i am that husband."
archons, how had he found himself such a foolish mortal to love?
"don't lie to me!" you shook your head profusely, wiggling around in his grasp relentlessly until the adeptus had no choice but to let go. "i know my husband when i see him... and he's way handsomer than you, stupid..." you stared him up and down with squinting eyes, eyeing the way his ears were beginning to turn pink, and sat heavily in thought as you pondered the man before you.
definitely not your husband.
idiot. with a huff, he easily hauled your body over his shoulder as if carrying something as trivial as a sack of potatoes. you hung loosely over, landing a couple weak punches on his back as you proceeded to prattle on, your defiance seemingly having little effect.
then, you were silent, and xiao had to look back to make sure you hadn't gotten hurt. sure, he had considered once or twice leaving you out there all passed out on the balcony, but not without reason, yet he'd decided against it. you seemed fine, mouth hung slightly ajar as you snoozed peacefully, your eyes shut and cheeks still warm from what you'd downed. the audacity to fall asleep... xiao couldn't deny that his sigh was one of fondness.
"night, this husband of yours loves you."
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strange, wasn't the wine from liyue supposedly far less intense compared to the vodka CHILDE had tried back home?
that, or the people here simply were more susceptible when it came to the topic of intoxication. you were no exception — he'd taken you out drinking, his mistake, thinking it'd be an easy, splendid time.
and don't get him wrong, it was! not just, well... conversation was rather hard to make when the other person was practically unconscious. you're practically splayed across the mahogany table, eyes nearly drooped close and fire across your cheeks.
you giggled. it's a muddled sound, when you're mostly mumbling into the table. "hhhey, pour me another glass~"
childe scans your less-than-ideal state and procures an answer in a little under a second. "love, you've had too many."
you seem shocked at his words, leaning forwards a little with narrowed eyes. your figure sways as you shake your head lazily, from side to side. "wwhhhat? nnno, that can't be right..."
the man holds back an amused chuckle. it's entertaining. "and how many fingers am i holding up?" he holds up just one hand, displaying a reasonable amount of three.
there's a beat of silence. "...nineteen?" you blink a couple times, as if to shake you out of your stupor. "...nineteen," this time, with confidence.
childe claps his hands together, a sudden sound that makes you startled, and he moves to apologize immediately. "we're getting you to bed, love. clearly you've had more alcohol than you can handle."
"what, was i wrong??" there's tears forming in your eyes, and your lips tug downwards in a frown. "u-uhm, fifteen? nno, four...?"
"still incorrect, love. i'm afraid it's time for you to go to sleep. you'll wake up with a hell of a hangover tomorrow morning, but..." he sighed, thinking back to his time in shneznaya, then made a mental note to prepare you a hangover drink in the morning. his hand found its familiar place in your hand, unnaturally warm with your skin rosy from the alcohol. he smiled, turning to glance at you, but ceased when he saw you on the ground, tears now falling from your eyes, quietly sobbing as you shook your head back and forth.
panic immediately sets in. what has he done wrong?? "love, what-"
"nnnno, don't call me that..." you squinted upwards at him, looking quite displeased. "no 'love', 'kaaay? i'm not your love, mister."
he paused. wait, you didn't possibly think that... "love-" oh, old habits died hard, and the word had already left his lips before he could process what you'd said.
"i have a husband, you!!" in some sort of fit, or perhaps better worded as a tantrum, you stood, wrenching yourself from his grip and then hitting him repeatedly in the shoulders, chest, anywhere your fists could reach, really. the alcohol had surely affected your capabilities of combat — you missed half the time, and what punches did land caused no pain at all.
as your anger subsided, your step faltered, body swaying in the open air before childe reached over to catch you in his arms. he was concerned, naturally. "lov- are you alright?" his worry only grew when he heard no response, but it ebbed with a chuckle when he saw you were already fast asleep in his arms, snoozing without a care in the world.
"a husband, hm? whoever it is, he must quite be the gentleman..."
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ALHAITHAM knew his night was fated to end in idiocy the moment you knocked on his door.
it didn't even strike him that you were holding wine, of all things, when you waltzed into his house like it was your own. sure, it wasn't as if these occasions weren't frequent, but really anyone would be surprised to glance up from a quiet reading session only to see their (annoying) lover pressed against the door, repeatedly calling out his name in a sing-song, satire-like voice.
like... calling a cat. it was a realization he made with not too much contentment. silently, he thanked the archons that kaveh was not home — they knew that he could not handle the both of you.
it was only when you sat down at his table, where he'd been reading up to the point when you barged in, that he noticed. green-tinted glass, a little wind motif on the front... dandelion wine from mondstadt. now, just how did you get your hands on that?
"connections," you had stated. with a note of pride, he might add. what, was he supposed to congratulate you on being able to talk to other people? even he, a person who generally hated people, could do that.
ah, but he didn't hate it. your voice, that is, when you rambled on for hours on end. he didn't have the heart to interrupt you, especially when you were so heated on a topic — be it work troubles, an especially annoying sailor, or you accidentally dropping your pita pocket into the water when walking along the port, he didn't mind.
"...mmbottle. haaithammm, the bottle..." your drunk complaints reach his ears, and he his irritation is more so disrupted with inward amusement as he watches you in the predicament you've landed yourself in.
"the bottle?" he questions, raising an eyebrow. his hands are crossed over his chest; he's clearly getting a ruse out of this. "just what would you need the bottle for, love?"
your eyebrows scrunch together. he can tell your brain is working at its max capacity. "...im. thirsty?"
"you've already drunk two thirds of this bottle." he holds said bottle high above your head, hopelessly far from your reach. "if you're so thirsty, drink water."
"i don wanna."
"..."
"just... one drop?"
"hah..." he pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply, and places a hand on your shoulder. you barely react, and don't even glance at the sudden weight. "love, you're staying over. you're going to bed."
"bed...?" horror crosses your face, paired with evident irritation. "y...you, who do you think you are, to suggest such things!?" your face is bright red, and you're hugging yourself with one arm and pointing an accusing finger towards the male with the other. "i have a husband!!"
ah. "...what's his name?"
"and why do youuuu want to know?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, but seem to come up with an answer to your own question, for you answer him anyhow. "haitham."
"do you love this 'haitham'?" alhaitham's enjoying himself. when he teases the sober you, all you do is retort back, but now... he can see your flustered expression on full display as you stammer out an answer.
"o-of course! a-and, if you wanted to know, he's waaaaay handsomer.. than ... you..."
just like that, you topple over and sink into the couch, knocked unconscious. a trace of a smile crosses alhaitham's lips as he looks at your sleeping form.
"fortunately for you, this 'haitham' you speak of loves you too."
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(a/n) bye i was gonna add kaveh to this one too but i realized oh fuck its white day i said id post a month ago what the fuck am i doing so i just like regurgitated this out and spat it onto your dashboard. ahodfjlds
tags (id paste the aesthetic thing but i cant find it so we're just gonna roll w this):
@manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @ @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima
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augustinewrites · 11 months
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“babe. baaaabe. babe!”
“what, satoru?” you ask sharply, looking up from your laptop to where your boyfriend has spread himself across your couch, his legs in shoko’s lap. 
he lifts his shades to look at you. “was i your first crush?”
“yes,” you answer quickly.
you immediately return to the report you’re writing, missing the face shoko makes before she says, “that’s not true.” 
“ieiri,” you whisper harshly, but it’s too late. your boyfriend’s already jumped off the couch to lean his palms against your desk. 
“what? i wasn’t your first?!”
“you were,” you insist, glaring at your friend. “shoko is clearly misremembering things.”
“am i though?”
“you know what, it’s fine,” gojo sighs, slipping his shades back on and rolling the sleeve of his t-shirt up so he can flex. “obviously i’m way cooler than whatever lame schmuck high school you was crushing on.”
behind him, shoko’s scoff is the final nail in your coffin. “nanami is way cooler than you ever were.”
you slap your forehead, bracing yourself for gojo’s inevitable overreaction. 
but he doesn’t get the chance, interrupted by a light knock against your doorframe from, you guessed it, nanami kento.
“yaga said you wanted to see me?”
cue overreaction.
“you had a crush on— on him?” 
nanami swats gojo’s finger away from his cheek. 
“oh my god,” your boyfriend breathes, currently experiencing a quarterlife crisis. “you liked this emo nemo?”
nanami ignores him, sending you a questioning look. “he doesn’t know?”
“what is it now?” satoru asks, slumping back into the couch. “did you guys go on a date or something?” 
your lack of answer is enough for him to let his head fall back rather dramatically. 
“can you blame her?” shoko asks. “he was sexy back then. in an edgy, mysterious kind of way. meanwhile, you were like…if a string bean made love to a cauliflower.” 
even gojo doesn’t have a witty retort prepared for that. 
you decide to clear this up once and for all. “it wasn’t just about looks. you were busy after— after riko. you didn’t have time for a relationship or…for me. you wanted to get stronger and i didn’t want to get in your way.”
“you wouldn’t have been—”
“i would have.” you shrug. because you know him, and you know what he was like. “and that’s okay because we were still kids, satoru. and it was only one date! no need to get so torn up about it!”
_____
“what is this?” you ask later that night, when you find satoru hauling a huge box into your apartment.
“it’s a bowflex!” gojo explains proudly, patting the unopened box. “shoko said that i was built like a string bean, so i’m gonna buff up like nanami! and when megumi moves out next year, i’m gonna turn his room into a gym.”
you lean in the doorway, amused. nanami also has a home gym. “is that why you’re also wearing a suit and tie instead of your usual uniform?”
he does a show spin, letting you take it all in. you don’t even want to know how much it must have cost. “do you like it?” 
“you do look very handsome.” 
“i know,” he winks, cocky as ever. “now watch this.”
he brushes a few strands of hair over his eyes, lowering his voice a few octaves as he says, “taxes. office work. satoru, i respect you so much!”
you walk up to him, brushing the hair back to press a kiss to his forehead. “nanami would never say that last thing, but i do like the effort.” 
he loops his arms around your waist, returning the kiss and murmuring against your skin, “did it turn you on though? maybe i should get an office job—”
“satoru,” you whine, resting your forehead against his chest. “it was just a short-lived crush. and it was forever ago! i’m pretty sure you’ve had crushes that weren’t me.”
“nope,” he hums, resting his chin atop your head. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i’ve ever needed…is you.” 
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bunnyhugs77 · 5 months
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High Demand
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ꕤ- Pairing: Dealer! Jungkook x Reader
���- WC: 2.6k
ꕤ- A modern day Romeo and Juliet
Content: college student! reader, grumpy jk, brief texting! au, jk is lowkey whipped, drug use (marijuana), reader is his special customer, vaping, opposites attract, suggestive themes, minor jealousy, idiots in love (but they won't admit it), shot gunning, grinding, fwb?
Other Content: thigh riding, high sex, jk titty appreciation, unprotected sex (no.), hand job, soft dom kook, reader is a little needy, brief switch! koo, hickeys, pet names, spit, biting.
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Shaking your head with a small giggle as you looked at your phone before tossing it aside. You're totally his favourite. You know he's stubborn and he would never admit it but deep down he loves delivering to you the most.
Looking around your sad and dimly lit dorm, all the lights were off and your roommate was gone for the weekend doing god knows what with her weird ass biology major boyfriend who would collect rabbit tails in jars for 'science'.
You were looking at one right now actually, it seems they left one behind, on the coffee table. It was just fermenting in... you actually weren't sure and didn't want to know.
Your eyes felt like they were on fire the longer you looked at the stupid philosophy paper you were writing. The bright light from your laptop was beginning to drill into your head. Your head lolled to the side glancing at the time on your phone.
It was almost 11:30, and time for a break. Abandoning the device on the couch for a quick wake-up shower; by the time you'd gotten changed and returned to the living room, you could expect Jungkook any minute now.
Except, this is Jungkook we're talking about. He's always late.
That's why when you heard the familiar rattling of the rusty fire escape you were startled. It was a little past midnight. Climbing through the window in nothing but your basketball shorts and a white tee.
Pleasantly surprised to see Jungkook scaling the platform with a bag of takeout pinned in between his teeth. The sight of you looking down at him from where he climbed made his eyebrows raise but of course he couldn't say anything.
Not until he was finally close enough for you to grab the bag from his mouth and he stands up. You climb back inside first with him following behind with a pained sigh. "I'm so sick of coming here. Got me climbing walls like its fucking subway surfers." He curses while you place the food down on the table.
Completely ignoring him, practically drooling as you slowly peeled open the bag. "And I thought you said you weren't gonna bring me anything." He snatches the bag.
"I didn't."
You let yourself fall onto the couch, arms crossed and unbelieving. "Oh yeah? So you just coincidentally craved Wendy's and decided to haul it up three flights up a ladder from your mouth when you could've just eaten it in the car?"
"Yeah exactly." He shrugs, obviously lying.
"Give me the bag, Jungkook."
"Fine. But I'm charging you extra for the delivery and the labour of bringing it up here." He hands it to you and you roll your eyes knowing it was nothing more than a bluff.
"It's not my fault you're out of shape," you mumble unwrapping the burger. "Oh yeah? Is this what out of shape looks like to you?" He says it almost offended but challenged.
Choking briefly on your food as he lifts up his shirt, revealing the defined abs that you have such lewd memories of. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You try climbing 3 flights up a ladder and tell me it's easy." You shrug,
"Not my fault you're banned from the campus." He drops himself down beside you, reaching for the bag of fries and taking some for himself. "But it is, if you hadn't called me to drop off a stash for Angelica's dorm party maybe I could still take the stairs."
You drop your half-eaten burger with apologetic eyes, "How was I supposed to know they were doing random security checks in the lobby? At least you didn't get arrested." You pout and he scoffs.
"Bare minimum." He says via grumpy mutter under his breath so you offered up the rest of your food to him as a peace offering. A little sad that he actually took it but you were getting full anyway.
As he finished up the rest of your food you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "So do you still do drops with Angelica?" He nods with his mouth full of the last bite, stuffing the wrappers back in the bag.
"How often does she call you?-- for deliveries I mean." He chuckles, licking his lips, "Jealous?" You take the trash off the coffee table and bring it to the kitchen to toss it in the garbage. "You're delusional."
"I can't help it if I'm in high demand." He manspreads, his arms stretched over the back of the couch. "Just shut up. Do you have my pen?" He reaches for the pocket inside his leather jacket, pulling out the slim box.
Already knowing that you were going to use it now, he began to unbox it while you collected the cash you needed. "40 right?" You say handing him the small spread of bills, "Yeah, but for you, I guess I could make it 30." He shrugs conceitedly.
"Because I'm your favourite." You say and he shakes his head, "No. Because I ate your food." Which he paid for but you didn't dare to say that out loud, you were getting cheap weed.
"So who's your favourite then Jungkook?" He hands you the pen, "Listen. I don't climb up the fire escape when I do deliveries for Angelica, I make her come to me. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Trying to tug the pen out of his grasp but he holds it firm until you respond, "I guess I can work with that." He smiles softly, letting you take the first hit as his arm wraps around your shoulder.
The two of you passed the pen back and forth, with little giggles here and there and wide eyes on the episode of SpongeBob that was playing.
By now the dark living room is illuminated by nothing more than your roommate's lava lamp and a strip of purple LEDs' taped behind the TV. You could see the smoke as it floated past the few sources of light.
"Open." He directs, taking a particularly long hit, leaning into you and blowing the pungent smoke into your mouth, sucking it in from his lips.
The pen is now forgotten as it rolls between the cracks of the couch. Straddling Jungkook's muscular thigh as he flexed it every now and then, taking hits from his blueberry Ice vape and blowing it to the ceiling, giving you a prime view of his sharp jaw under the soft purple lighting.
The sight made you shake, gyrating your hips almost desperately as you chased the feeling of friction on his denim-clad thigh. "You like that? You feel good fucking yourself on my thigh?" The question was rhetorical, you were too dazed to answer him anyway.
Your heavy-lidded gaze slowly rolls up to his pretty face once you feel his hand move from your hips to gently wrap around your neck, not applying any pressure, just there to let you feel the weight of his hand. "Answer me," He says, and you fall forward "Yess, feels so good." You moan, and Jungkook has danced this dance with you enough to see you were close.
But of course, he couldn't let you cum so soon, not yet. His hands flew to your hips and pinned you down on his thigh, restricting your range of motion. "Please," You beg and he wishes he had a little more willpower but he couldn't say no to you, not when you looked so fucked out when he's barely touched you.
"Fuck. Take your shirt off." Leaning back and crossing your arms over the base of the shirt, you pried it off your body desperately. Leaving you in your black lacy bra and it pulled out a guttural groan from Jungkook's chest.
"You little whore." he grits through his clenched teeth, grip tightening on the arm of the couch nearly ripping the fabric.
This position was no longer giving him what he so desperately craved. Shrugging the jacket from off his shoulders and taking off the tank top underneath letting your eyes roam over his built upper body, oh how you wanted to just...
Without thinking your tongue striped up the expanse of his bulky pecs. This was new, but Jungkook was so high out of his mind anything and everything you did felt like he was on cloud 9.
Your mouth dropped down to wrap around his rosy nipples and you could've never anticipated the worked-up reaction you got from him. "Oh shit, shit shit." He gasps, hands gripping your waist tight enough that you're sure there will be bruises by the morning.
Letting your tongue lap around his nipples with pure hunger, an inexplicable flame burning in your core as you were finally the one who got to watch the other be reduced to a moaning mess.
His once soft moans turned a little breathy and high-pitched, His hips bucked causing you to jolt in his lap, he was getting close.
"Didn't think you'd like having your tits played with so much?" You tease him but he didn't find the humour in it. He holds you by the throat once more, this time applying a generous amount of pressure, pushing you off him.
Unbuckling his belt and you knew what that meant. He slides out of his pants, followed by the boxers that were the last barrier between your moistened lips and his throbbing cock. "Let's put that smart mouth of yours to good use, yeah?" He hums, watching as you sink to your knees, hand carefully wrapped around his base, starting with slow pumps.
"Spit on it." Doing as told, you let a wad of spit fall from your pretty, plush lips and coat the shaft of his dick, you worked your palm up his length. Already satisfied with the way his head was thrown back.
"Just like that," Reaching for the vape, he takes a few good hits, the head rush mixed with the pleasure had him seeing stars-- the object falling from his hands immediately the moment he felt the warm heat of your mouth wrap around his sensitive tip.
"Y/n-" He breathes out, almost scared, he was so close, too soon. He's never struggled to hold himself back this badly before. What were you doing to him?
The obscene sounds of you choking as you struggled to take all of him in your mouth, letting your nose touch the soft, trimmed hairs near his base. Focusing on breathing through your nose before you felt a heavy hand on the back of your head, pushing you lower.
You were quite literally slobbering on his dick, gagging with every buck of his hips. "That's it, princess. You're doing so well--Shit. Mouth feels like fucking heaven." His praise rushes to your core and has your left hand trailing down to rub yourself through your lace underwear.
The rough friction being more than enough to get you there, "I'm gonna cum, baby. Where-- Shit!-- Where do you want it?" He gasps, his hips snapping, pushing his length down your throat almost erratically. You don't answer, only hollowing your cheeks to take him deeper, making your desires clear.
Your own fingers quickening their pace, your own sounds travelling through his dick in vibrations and pushing him right over the edge with you, filling your mouth with his warm cum.
Swallowing as if it were second nature. "Stick out your tongue," He says softly. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to regain his composure from his overwhelming climax. Your tongue was out and cleared of any of his cum and it made him crazy.
He remembers the first time he'd brought an order to you over 6 months ago. He thought you were nothing more than a cute little philosophy major, never did he think he'd have you beneath him like he does right now.
Looking up at him, daring to give you an almost angelic gaze while the two of you ruined each other. Tainting each other with your own touches. "Kiss me?" You ask it so cutely, tempting him with the pout on your lips. You weren't being fair.
His body didn't give him a choice before his lips were on yours, his hips grinding into yours. The feeling of his solid dick rolling against your skin making the butterflies go ramped in your stomach.
The way you licked over his bottom lip with your own made Jungkook weak, stumbling on his elbows as he held himself up over you. Soft groans could be heard the deeper the kiss became.
Messy and intimate. Your hand crept up the back of his neck to tug at the dark locks of hair on his head. There was a loud pop and the two of you paused.
With Jungkook between your legs and with you under him, your heads turned slowly towards the coffee table where the jar was, dedicated to the fermenting rabbit tail. "What the fuck is that?" Jungkook slowly sits up, "My roommate's boyfriend's weird biology shit. I dunno, it freaks me out too." You sit up, now remembering what the two of you were in the middle of doing.
"That shit's not gonna blow up or anything right." You gently peck him on the lips but his brain seems preoccupied by the jar, "who knows," you say, kissing right under his ear and that seemed to get him to zone in on you.
Catching his bottom lip under his teeth as your kisses became more eager, suckling on a certain spot on his neck, his head falling back against his will. "Fuck, Y/n-- Don't you dare." You pull off his soft skin with a soft pop, admiring the burgundy bruise left behind.
"Oops." Your apology was ingenuine and bratty, and Jungkook hated brats.
Tearing you out of your final pieces of clothing before manhandling you into his lap. "Sit on it." He demands and you follow without question. Moaning out loud as his dick spread your lips apart like butter.
Sliding down with ease and a stretch of your velvety walls that were currently squeezing Jungkook for everything he's got and he's got nothing left, everything was yours.
"I-Shit! You feel so good, Kook!" He couldn't bother to correct you on the annoying nickname you were incessant on using. "Yeah? You like that- fuck, you feel so good." He curses, bucking his hips up into you as you raise your hips trying to match his thrusts.
He was fucking you so good, so ruthlessly, your head falls onto his shoulder and you needed more than just the couch to hold on to, your teeth sank into the muscular meat of his shoulder and his pace faltered.
"Shit shit shit! Do that again." He groans, picking up an inhumane pace that had you bouncing all over the place until he stilled you in his arms. His grunts and breathy moans came out right beside your ear only pushing you to your orgasm faster.
"J-jungkook-!" You pant, unable to speak, feeling like your insides are being rearranged, "Me too, baby. Cum with me." You finish first, and with a few more unsynchronized snaps of his hips, you were being filled to the brim with his cum.
The room is filled with nothing but the sound of muffled music playing from your neighbour's next door and laboured breaths. Jungkook gently lays you down on the couch beside him, staring into your eyes.
This felt so intimate. You felt his gaze deeper than just behind your eyes, it was as if he was looking into your soul. His eyes were tinted red as he looked at you with an adoring gaze. "You're cute." He says it casually as though he hadn't just fucked you.
Your eyes roll before they close, feeling the sleepiness begin to kick in. "Bet you say that to all your customers." Mumbling the words into his chest while he began to grin a little.
"Nope. Only to my favourite." Your eyes shoot open.
"I knew it."
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4K notes · View notes
mieluscious · 5 months
Text
baby, warm me up. zayne
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ෆ pairings : zayne x female reader
ෆ genre : fluff, smut
ෆ word count : 3k6
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ෆ warnings : mdni. husband!zayne, bratty wife!reader, fluff, small argument, teasing, fingering, biting, a lot of kisses, unprotected sex, breeding kink, handjob, hand kink, rough sex, semi-public sex, risk of getting caught, medical office sex, zayne is really cold (you know him..) but really reallyyy soft at the same time, they are both so in love . . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚
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"what are you doing here." zayne's office door closed behind you as you excitedly threw your shopping bags on the sofa in front of his desk.
"i went shopping and thought : why not say hello to my hubby?" you clapped your hands, smiling at zayne's cold expression. "are you not excited to see me ?" you pouted and placed your hands on your hips. "look at my new dress, isn't it cute ?" zayne pushed his glasses up his nose and turned his attention back to the documents spread out on his desk.
"i have work to do y/n. go back home." he grabbed a pen and resumed his work without giving you another glance. you sighed and threw yourself onto the sofa.
"my husband is so meannnn." you raised your arms and looked at your hands. "i even had my nails done for him. but he doesn't care about me i'm so sad." you whined loudly but zayne was totally indifferent and it was slowly beginning to frustrate you. you suddenly got up and reached into one of your bags, pulling out a cute little top you bought at the mall. "since you don't mind, i'll show you everything i've bought." zayne squeezed his pencil lightly between his fingers at your words. you took off your shoes and unbuttoned your dress, which fell to your feet, leaving you in your underwear in front of his desk. he slowly raised his eyes to you and his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of you half-naked in his workplace.
"what are you doing." it didn't sound like a question, zayne's tone was cold as usual, but this time you could hear the annoyance in his voice, which made you smile slightly. he tapped his pencil repeatedly on the wood of his desk, looking you up and down behind the lenses of his glasses.
"i told you. i'm doing a haul just for you." you winked at him. he pressed his back against his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. you put on your top and zayne's eyes fell on your breasts, a little too visible for his taste because of the little fabric covering your skin. you put your hands on your hips and gave him a few poses to show off your top, you spun around and smiled with all your teeth. you chuckled. "so ? what do you think baby." his cold gaze slid down on the skin of your bare thighs to your hips, before falling back into your eyes.
"i think you should go home, like i said." you sighed and crossed your arms over your chest, and zayne almost broke his pencil at the sight of your breasts sticking out generously.
"i don't want to go back home without you. it's saturday and i want us to have fun tonight." you bent down and reached into your bag to pull out a skirt and scarf. "look i even bought a cute outfit for you." zayne sighed and a discreet, almost invisible smile played across his lips. he rose from his chair and you pressed your clothes to your chest as the tall man approached you.
"look at me." you didn't even realize you'd lowered your gaze to your feet. you looked up at him and your teeth caught your lower lip at his serious expression. "i have a lot of work to do, and you're a distraction." you clenched your fists, you were offended and zayne could see it in your eyes. you threw your clothes against his chest which he caught before they fell to the ground.
"ok, i get it. i'm gonna go have some fun on my own then." you took off your top under zayne's piercing eyes and his fists clenched on your clothes as you also removed your bra.
"y/n. don't push me please." your eyes never left his when you wrapped your arm around your breasts, forbidding him to look. you knew what you were doing was wrong but you couldn't help feeling that childish feeling of jealousy. zayne was always busy with work and having time to spend with him was becoming more and more complicated as the days went by. you crouched down and pulled a silk dress from another bag.
"you see." you straightened up and slipped inside the dress, which gilded deliciously over the curves of your body under your husband's cold gaze. "i was supposed to wear this dress tonight at the restaurant i booked for us. but instead, i'm going to wear it now and go by myself. maybe a man will join me and give me some time ?" you grabbed your purse from the sofa. you brought your hand to your mouth and tilted your head to the side, looking at him again. "maybe rafayel? i don't think he would have forgotten our wedding anniversary." you caught your heels in your hands, wanting to put them in your car, you couldn't stand his silence any longer and you wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. you grabbed the door's wrist to open it when a hand slammed down on the wood to close it again. you turned around and leaned your back against the door, zayne's face down on you. the strands of his hair fell over his dark eyes behind his glasses, making him far too attractive. a knock was heard from the other side of the door.
"doctor zayne ? your patient is here for his appointment." his gaze wandered slowly over every pretty feature of your face before falling back into your beautiful eyes.
"make them wait in the corridor." his other hand wrapped a lock of your hair around its finger. "i'll be there soon, unfortunately, i still have something to take care of." his hand went up to your chin, which he raised towards him. zayne was much more taller than you, sometimes, to look at him you had to stand on tiptoe to keep your balance. he slipped his arm, which was against the door, around your waist, pulling you closer to him. you squealed softly as you felt his face come close to your ear, his lips gently brushing against it. "and you, you come with me." you mewled and grabbed his shirt between your hands as he lifted you by the hips, making you wrap your legs around his waist.
"i hate you." you pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck. he smiled tenderly and placed a small kiss on your cheek, making you blush. he walked to his desk and sat you down on it. his two hands settled on either side of you as he stood between your thighs.
"look at me, princess." his teeth gently caught your ear, making you flinch. "please." you sighed lightly as you removed your arms from around his neck, giving him a chance to see your rosy cheeks. you closed your eyes and his nose touched yours. "i didn't forget our wedding anniversary." he slipped a hand on the small of your back and kissed your jaw before blindly reaching behind you for a small box on his desk. you slowly opened your eyes on a beautiful diamond ring and gasped.
"w-what is this.." you grabbed the box between your trembling fingers and raised your face to zayne's, who rested his forehead against yours, smiling softly.
"i told you to leave so that you could take the time to make yourself even more beautiful than you are now." he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear before gently kissing the corner of your lips. "i have a lot of work to do and i wanted to get everything done so i could get back to you as soon as possible." he grabbed your hips with both hands and pulled you closer to him, making you blush even more under his cold eyes.
"i feel so stupid." you caught your face in your hands. "i'm so sorry zayne." he caught one of your fingers between his teeth, nibbling gently.
"don't be sad, my love." your hands slowly fell from your face. "i was a bit stressed and i know i can be cold sometimes." you immediately looked up and saw him smiling.
"sometimes huh ?" he chuckled softly and your heart began to race.
"yes i know. but you're not afraid of the ice, are you ?" his cold fingers slid over the bare skin of your thighs, pulling up your dress. you grabbed his shirt again, moaning softly under his piercing eyes.
"i'm not." he lightly pinched the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you flinch. zayne's face pressed against your neck and he took the opportunity to lick the sensitive spot under your ear, a whimper escaped from between your lips as your legs suddenly wrapped around his waist.
"so why don't you try to warm me up ?" this time you couldn't resist anymore, you needed him. one of your hands grabbed his white lab coat, bringing him closer to you causing him to catch himself with one hand on the desk behind you. your lips met the skin of his neck and a silent moan escaped from his mouth. "eager aren't we ?" your teeth sank into his flesh and his head tilted back slightly when he felt your small hands grab his belt. your hand slipped into his pants to catch his length, you bit your lip painfully, trembling. a soft moan escaped from between zayne's lips. "your hands are so warm." he lowered his head and your eyes met again, he opened his mouth slightly as you began to slowly move your hand over his cock, jerking him off as you analyzed every pretty feature of his face.
"i love you." you sighed softly and he smiled lightly between two moans. he placed his hands on either side of you, his forehead pressed to yours, making you tremble even more at this new proximity.
"why are you shaking my darling ?" a chuckle escaped him. "i'm the one who's getting touched." his eyes fell on your hand, which was gently caressing him. "by such a pretty hand." he raised his eyes back to yours and your gaze almost made him cum in your hand. you were so pretty, your cheeks were as rosy as flowers and your eyes were glassy. every time you touched zayne he had this feeling that you were taking more pleasure than he was, and seeing you like this made you even more adorable in his eyes.
your thumb slipped over his tip and zayne let out a growl that you swallowed in a tender kiss. your glossy lips caressed his gently as his tongue slipped into your mouth to meet yours. you sucked his lower lip shyly as you felt his hands grab your dress. he tried to escape your lips to talk but your grip on his cock tightened, making him moan against your mouth. you pressed your mouth harder against his and your tongue slid against his teeth, making him smile during the kiss. his breathing quickened as your hand slid up and down his length faster. a knocking sounded at his office door, but zayne paid it no mind. he moved one of his hands up to your jaw and his fingers slipped over your hairline as he deepened the kiss, making you moan inside his mouth.
"doctor zayne ? your patient is waiting." his tongue wrapped around yours before sucking on it gently. your other hand went up his muscular back, and you pulled his lab coat off his shoulders. he immediately understood what you wanted and pulled his hands away from you to remove it completely from him. your mouth never left his it was as if you needed it to breathe or you could die just under him. you pressed his cock against his stomach and rubbed it harder against your palm, making him grip the edge of the desk firmly. he was now panting against your mouth and your tongue couldn't resist licking his lips. everything was so delicious, the minty taste of his mouth was addictive.
"ah- stop. im gonna cum." he suddenly grabbed your thigh and lifted it. "i don't want to ruin the pretty dress you bought for me." your lips slipped from his mouth to his jaw, which you nibbled softly. "please. take it off." his other hand slipped under your butt to pull the fabric of your dress through. you removed your hand from his cock and grabbed the edges of your dress which you pulled over your head before bringing back your mouth to the skin of his neck.
"i missed you so much, zayne. a-ah-" you moaned prettily as you felt him tug roughly at your lace panties before tossing them behind him. you wrapped your arms around his neck as he slid his hands under your knees, positioning your feet on the edge of his desk, opening you up to him as much as possible.
"i know baby, i know. i'm sorry, i'm here now." you nodded and threw your head back, feeling the tip of his cock slide between your walls. you removed your arms from around his neck and grasped his shirt firmly in your hands, moaning loudly. zayne removed one of his hands from under your knee and slid his fingers against your lips. his piercing gaze met your glassy eyes. "shhh-" he pushed his cock further into you and he could see in your eyes that you were on the verge of climax. "you have to be quiet" you nodded, a tear fell down your cheek and zayne bit down on his bottom lip to keep himself from grunting at the sight of you in such despair. you squealed against his fingers as he placed his lips on your eye, kissing you softly. "it's gonna be fine. you want to feel good, hm ?" you nodded again and your chest heaved as he thrust his full length inside you. you pulled so hard on his shirt that buttons popped off and spread across the floor, revealing his muscular chest. you were now panting against his mouth and zayne frowned while looking deep into your teary eyes, trying to calm himself down.
"z-zayne..ahhh..." you grabbed the hair on the back of his head as he started thrusting inside you slowly, letting you get used to him. he slid both of his hands on your hips and you threw your head back as his gaze fell on your juicy, erotic lips. he wanted to eat them so bad, but he didn't want to miss your little moans under his thrusts. another tear rolled down your cheek and zayne immediately licked it off. he opened his mouth to let out small moans when he felt your legs wrap around his waist, making him thrust his cock even deeper until he reached your g-spot. you almost fell backwards when you felt his tip strike against the most sensitive spot of your body, zayne caught you by the small of your back.
"how does it feel ? good ?" you nodded and opened your mouth to speak, but a cry escaped you as he thrust a bit faster inside you, making you arch against his hand on your back . you grabbed his fingers still against your lips and slipped them into your mouth to stop you from being too loud. his cold gaze returned back to yours and you couldn't help biting his fingers, making him flinch slightly. an almost non-existent smile spread across his lips as he watched you try to apologize between your uncontrollable moans. he laid you flat on the desk and let out a deep groan when he looked down on your pussy gushing and clenching on his cock. he grabbed the back of your knees with one hand and pressed them against your chest, this new position made you turn your eyes to the back of your skull. his erection was impossibly hard and the thick veins on the underside of his cock were consistently dragging over your silken flesh.
"z-zayne....ahh....ahh....ahh...hmph!-" zayne put his knee on the desk, fucking you even more deeply as he looked straight into your eyes, his mouth hang opened and silent moans escaped from between the reddened lips you'd kissed passionately earlier. "it's.... ahhh-.. too m-much-" you tried to grab everything you could around you, the edges of his desk and the document holders lying around, everything.
"take it, please. look at you. you look so pretty with your face all red." you were now a crying and moaning mess under his powerful thrusts. zayne didn't care about you being noisy anymore, the whole hospital could hear you and probably the patient who'd been waiting for him in the corridor for thirty minutes. but all he wanted was fucking you good, fucking you the way you always deserved it. "so pretty. please, let’s make a baby." you nodded and you squirted a little against his pelvis at his words. with his free hand he was about to pull his shirt off his shoulders when you grabbed the fabric of his sleeve, letting him know that you wanted him to give it to you. zayne dropped the back of your knees and straightened up to take off his shirt, which he then handed to you.
you pressed his shirt against your face, savoring the scent of your husband as he removed his cock from your cunt and turned you over so that you were lying on your side. you bit down gently on the fabric of his shirt when you met his cold eyes again. he positioned himself back on his two legs on the floor and bent down to gently kiss the skin of your hip before straightening up again, making you whimper. he grabbed your leg and put it on his shoulder before sinking back inside and immediately start fucking you deep. "ahh.. yes princess, you like it like that ?-" he moaned and a streams of yes’s escaped from your glossy lips as lewd squelching and skin slapping against skin noises were bouncing off the office walls. he pulled your leg towards him to bring you closer, making you bounce on his cock harder with each thrust and you couldn't help but scream as you felt his tip hit your g-spot with full force. you pressed your nose deeper into his shirt and your eyes rolled back into the back of your skull as you smelled the musky scent of his cologne. zayne pressed his pelvis against your clit and the opportunity was too good for you not to rub up against him. "look at me." you looked up into his beautiful green eyes and immediately opened your mouth wide, mewling loudly as you saw zayne blush, with his glasses almost falling off his nose. one of his hand caught your sensitive ear and he pressed it between his two digits, making you arch your back. "you like my scent mh ?" you nodded, biting your lower lip under his watchful gaze. "when i'm at work, do you use my shirts to touch yourself with them ?" you squealed and pulled the fabric of his shirt up over your nose, revealing only your eyes.
"y-yes.." zayne suddenly grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your stomach, he fucked you so hard that the desk rocked back and forth. he pressed his chest against your back and you gripped the edges of the desk firmly as you felt his hand slide under your belly to massage your clit. zayne slipped his tongue into your ear and you couldn't help yourself from screaming even louder as you felt your orgasm building inside you. "z-zayne...ahhhh....ahhhhh...i-m... cuming-" he removed himself from your cunt and turned you over onto your back again, he lifted your ass before thrusting roughly into you, his balls slapping against your cheeks loudly.
"look at me, princess." he was panting against your lips and his forehead was pressed against yours as his nails dug into your skin, a sign that he was close to cumming too. you looked up into his beautiful eyes and a smile played on his lips between two moans. "are you ready to be a mom, y/n ?" you nodded repeatedly and begged him against his lips to let you cum. “then take it all.”
“y-yes…yes!-” you shouted, arching your back and pressing your breasts harder against his chest as you squirted against him. he moaned loudly as he came at the same time as you, you shook your hips in pure satisfaction, allowing zayne’s swollen cock to enjoy the pleasure of your tight, tender passageway walls as they sucked it in over and over again, prolonging your orgasm. the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoed throughout the room and you were certain that the nurse on the other side of the door knew what you were doing. zayne slowed the pace of his hips and you squealed against his lips when he slid his hands over your breasts, pressing them together. he panted against your mouth trying to recover from his orgasm as you felt his semen flowing between your legs. “baby.. it’s leaking..” zayne kissed your cheek and slipped one of his hands between your legs, he removed his cock from your pussy and slipped two fingers between your walls pushing his cum deep inside. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head, giggling.
“happy wedding anniversary, zaynie.”
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© 𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 ! 𝙢𝙙𝙣𝙞 — 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ☆⌒(>。<)
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4K notes · View notes
ph4ngz · 1 year
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i need isagi, bachira, nagi, reo, chigiri, kunigami, shidou, sae, rin & barou x fem! reader (all separate) doing it raw for the first time?? pls pls pls pls pls
DOING IT RAW || BLUE LOCK
MMMMMM *feral noises.*
ISAGI YOICHI
"You're... y-you're on the pill, right baby?" he asks as soon as his tip meets the soft, slick outline of your entrance. His eyes are clenched shut, nose scrunched up as he does everything in his power to focus on the unfamiliar sensation of real pleasure, no bullshit condom, just pure skin on skin with his favourite girl. "Oh, shit..." he moans out loud, his features twitching and contorting in ecstasy. He's loving every second, finally able to experience every detail with his jolting, excited cock. "G-God, I-... oh~ t-tight!" he cries out quietly, attempting to control his volume as his head rolls back. Every so often, he repeatedly slides his sensitive cockhead back and forth over your puffy clit, relishing in the way it feels to mix each other's arousal together before recklessly jostling it inside once more. "Why... how... are you so fucking good?~ ah-"
BACHIRA MEGURU
"Wait, I thought it felt good already... now it's gonna be even more delicious?~ oh, wow. You're tooooooo good to me, my girl~" he'd cooed against your soft lips when you'd suddenly told him to fuck you without protection. Bachira couldn't care less if he's got a condom on or not. As long as you're having fun, he'll cum his brains out anyway. Even untouched. "Soooo, ya like it? What gets you off, huh? Is it that you can feel it pulse inside you?~" he asks playfully and oh so shamelessly, poking his tongue out as he rests your legs on his shoulders. "Bachira Meguru~ d-don't be so... so lewd..." you whimper towards the end of your sentence, the way his pelvis grinds against your gooey pussy to drive his cock in deeper making your eyes roll back. "Huh~ what, you embarrassed? Hehehe, oh— mmmh, don't be silly, you're the one who's getting my dick wetter by the second."
NAGI SEISHIRO
Oh, he's all for it. All you had to do was mention the mere concept of it and he was hauling you into his lap with that pretty, blank stare of his. "Wanna do that now." he's murmuring into your ear with all the focus he can conjure up going toward the strength of his big hands, already trying to remove your pants without ripping them. "Ohooooo," Nagi whines deeply into your shoulder once his fingers get wet whilst slipping your panties aside, "you're so wet, I wanna stick it in. Can I please...?" he asks lazily, dragging his lips across your skin so sensually, slowly. "Knock yourself out." you grant him permission with a shared dreamy stare, not entirely knowing what you're getting into until he's slipping himself in immediately, balls deep within seconds. "Hhhhh... hhh- I love youuuu~" he's moaning and sighing so slowly and it's almost making your ears twitch to hear more. "Condoms are such a hassle, o-oh... never wanna go back~"
MIKAGE REO
"We can do it raw, right? Can we do it raw?" a few strands of purple fall in front of his eager eyes as he holds an unopened condom between his fingers, already so worked up by the mere thought of pushing his needy cock in without some stupid condom preventing him from feeling the thrill he needs. Reo is ready to toss it behind his shoulder at the drop of a hat, and you don't think he even saw you nodding until a split second after he threw it away... "Fuck yeah, I'm so ready for this right now... you ready sweetheart?" he doesn't even wait for you to answer before he's spreading your cute cunt with his thumbs, intently watching his pink tip squeeze past your slicked up folds. "Oh my fucking godddd-... been waitin' for so long~" you hear him groan as he squeezes your thighs tightly. Every inch of his hard dick feels like it's on fire due to the way your hot arousal is coating his sensitive skin more and more, no pesky condom in the way.
CHIGIRI HYOMA
The little smirk on his gorgeous face when you tell him... hehe. "You're being for real, yeah? Okay, just... just c'mere, I'm not waiting around." he drags your body into his, grinding his clothed cock into your ass from behind, huffing impatiently like a spoiled brat. "You're letting me bang you raw..." a pearly white smile graces his face, he looks proud that you're finally letting him do this. Eyebrows bowed in pleasure, he watches his perfect tip squish between your folds and gather some of his sparkling precum on the way inside. His eyes are rolling back every five seconds, so sensitive and vulnerable under the influence of your wet cunt, especially now that there's no protection. "W-Woah, I'm— hhhhholy shit. Don't move, I might cum on the spot~" he warns you with a pornographic whine, pushing his hair back so he can get a clear view of your pussy trying to keep him all inside. "...I can go as fast as I want to as well, mm?~"
KUNIGAMI RENSUKE
Ugh, he's doing his best to act like he doesn't give a shit. "Yeah... fuckin' sure, we can do that. Won't make much difference." he said. "Again... I need more- more~" he growls and sighs now. So stubborn, but you love it. How his hair somehow becomes more messy due to how fucking turned on he is, how he keeps trying to stop his frown from faltering every time you clench on his ruthless huge cock. He's already fucked his cum further into you twice, clearly not able to get enough of the amplified pleasure that comes with being allowed to release all up inside your velvety pussy for the first time. "Did you get even t-tighter or something...? Fuck, fuck— ugh~" he pounds into you hard enough to bruise, his huge breeder balls smacking against your ass whilst a growing streak of white dribbles from your abused hole each time he bottoms out. "Jesus, fuck! H-Hah~" he's almost got tears in his eyes, the sheer euphoria seeming to be strong enough to puncture his pride.
SHIDOU RYUSEI
This guy wants it. He fucking loves it. He pressured you into this, after all, knowing well that you were rather paranoid about unprotected sex no matter how bad you wanted to experience him raw. "Oh, baby... please? C'mon, you gotsta' loosen up a little to have more fun with me~" he roughly placed a hand over your forehead to thoroughly stroke your hair back, making sure you felt like you had nowhere else to look besides his own, unnerving eyes. "Or you could let this big, raw fucking cock do that for you..." he'd offered lowly, a certain seriousness in his tone that you just couldn't shake as his nose almost touched yours. And so here you are, his unforgiving length buried deep within your guts. You swear you can feel his heartbeat inside of you, his erratic breathing and whining almost confirming your suspicions. "Gonna let me do this, yeah?~ ah, this feeling is fucking perfect I swearrr..." Shidou groans with a twisted, dirty grin when he makes you nod eagerly for him, "oh my god... can feel all of you, hah, ah- shit."
ITOSHI SAE
"I won't refuse." is what he responds with when you snatch the condom wrapper from his hand and toss it to the bedroom floor. "Mm." Sae grunts softly when his bare and pulsating cockhead squeezes its way past your glistening, pretty entrance as both of his hands massage the flesh of your ass. If it were any other girl he was slowly dipping his cock into right now, they wouldn't think he could notice any difference at all. But you're not any other girl, you can sense him preventing his blunt nails from damaging your asscheeks, hear the sound of his throat closing up to prevent an outright whine, feel his fat dick trying to jump within the sultry contracting of your walls. "G-Go, all of it~" you demand sweetly, reaching your hands back to hold his own and tug him in. His breath shakes once his tensing balls touch your clit, the sensation of his solid length pressing the very limits of your insides without a layer of latex separating you causing a hardly controlled "yeahhh..." to escape from behind his gritted teeth.
ITOSHI RIN
God, he's trying way too hard. Acting as if he's not falling to bits right before your misty eyes, as if he's not on the verge of fucking drooling like a rabid animal at the way your hot slick connects the very end of his perfect cock to your throbbing entrance with a clear string. "...'re you ready?" he asks in that breathy, addictive voice of his whilst impatiently sliding his tip up and down between your soft, slippery lower lips. Please, please, please is what he's chanting inside. "Green light." you respond with a strained and sexy moan muffled by your forearm, feeling him trace a circle around your clit, a cooling drop of pre-cum latching onto it once he pulls back to position himself. It's when the first few inches of him are surrounded by your heat that he struggles to let go of his breath without holding it again. "Whew- Alright, fuck..." Rin pants slowly, his tough guy act starting to crack uncontrollably under the power of your perfect cunt.
BAROU SHOUEI
He said nothing when you agreed. Just pulled you in for the roughest kiss you've ever had. And suddenly, you're being bounced like a rag doll on his horse cock, every vein as prominent as ever along your fleshy, sticky walls. "Never show me a condom again." he grunts into your neck, his big hands gripping your perfect body with a steel grip like he could lose you if he let go. "I wanna fill you up... wanna fill you up with my cum- agh~ hhhnnggh..." his voice is deep and grumbly, vibrating against your skin as he bites a little to show some restraint. The manner in which your walls are spasming around his raw, long cock is making it increasingly difficult to keep himself in check. "Damn it, please... don't make me lose control of myself..." he pleads lowly, his huge arms holding you in position and bouncing you harder on his fat dick. "H-oh my-... good, good girl."
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11K notes · View notes
raynewolfegirl · 2 months
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Meta Jazz, the Arkham Intern Therapist Pt1
Update 5/16/2024: Congrats guys, gals, and others! You have planted the seeds and they have grown. Today I wrote another 46 pages on this story (the first section was only 9 pages ya'll). I'm working on splitting it up into smaller sections so I can post it now because tumblr said no to doing it as one piece. I'll be using the tag #Meta Jazz Arkham Intern Therapist if you want to follow it.
Original Note: I'm going to go ahead and apologize for how OOC Bane is in this. It originally was Joker but I couldn't see Jazz tolerating his proximity for more than a single millisecond so Bane it is.
~*~*~
The hardest thing about being a Meta in Gotham was responding appropriately during a Rouge's attack, Jazz mused to herself. Or perhaps that was just the hardest part about being a Meta intern at Arkham while studying psychology at Gotham University. Or maybe it was just her, she considered watching the guards and Dr. Rylie whom she'd been shadowing for the past 2 weeks wide eyed, pale, and shaking as theybstared at Bane behind her. It must just be her, Jazz decided, newbie guard Kyle Jennings was definitely a Meta after all. She should probably give him some tips on hiding his enhanced strength considering how often he broke mugs, door handles, and other delicate items used in daily life.
"Weapons down or I'll snap her skinny little neck." Bane growled out, shaking her slightly for emphasis. She very much doubted that. Liminials were built different than the standard Meta, stronger, faster, better endurance, and senses even if they could mostly appear to be standard humans on the outside.  As such, their bones and muscles were much were much denser than regular humans or even Meta humans. Technically, she could be considered "invulnerable" much like the Kryptonians are.
"Back up! Let him through!" Dr. Rylie  shouted at the guards. "She's my student! Let him through!" His voice was higher pitched than she could recall hearing it before.
Ah. That was panic.
Jazz sighed involuntarily and glanced over her shoulder at Bane. Why the man had grabbed the only person close to his own height nearby was a mystery to her - no, nevermind, he clearly meant to use her as a shield - but it made looking him in the eye more difficult than necessary.
"Mr. Bane, remove your hands from my person, please." Jazz stated calmly, channeling what Danny called her inner mom as she spoke. "I will give you to one to comply."
Bane looked stunned for a moment then laughed.
"Five."
The laughing continued. Jazz could sense a stir of uncertainty through her colleagues as they looked on.
"Four."
"Did you really think that would work?" Bane snorted out, arms tensing more around her.
"Three." She continued, indifferent to his words from her experiences raising her brother. Once the count down starts you mustn't respond to anything the kids do or say until they comply or the count is done.
"What cab you even do if I don't?" Bane asked darkly breathing directly in her ear. She kept her face expressionless despite the urge to express disgust.
"Two."
"Jasmine..."  Kyle whispered halfway across the hall from her looking on with a pained and horrified expression. Gun tilting towards the floor. Sloppy.
"One." She finished and Bane gave a derisive snort.
Then she was moving. Hauling the enormous man up and over her shoulder using the arm that had been wrapped around her neck. Bane hit the cold tile hard enough that the tiles, subfloor, structural supports, and part of the concrete foundation buckled beneath him. His shoulder popped out of joint, his wrist cracked - a hairline fracture by the sound of it -  and his breath was punched out of him from the force of impact. She released his arm as soon as his was embedded in the tiles and moved forward. Kneeling over him, support most of her weight on her left foot resting on the broken ground, her right knees pressed firmly across his throat without supporting any of her weight. The position put more strain on her muscles than she would've liked but at least Bane couldn't risk fighting back without crushing his own neck in the process. He could hardly throw her while flat on his back with a mangled arm.
"Now," Jazz began, looking directly into the behemoth's pained eyes. "Do you know what you've done wrong?" She asked like she would have done with Danny as a child.
"Yes, Ma'am." Bane choked out. Jazz heard movement and murmuring behind her. She didn't turn to look.
"What did you do wrong?" She asked. It was important to make sure children correctly understood why they were in trouble after all. There was a long pause as Bane appeared to cast around for the exact right answer as if he feared getting it wrong. A bad habit Danny still uses as well, Jazz thought to herself.
"I tried to hold you hostage," He choked out in a rush, words tumbling over one another as he tried to get them all out. "I scared you coworkers and it was very disrespectful."
So he'd gone for the grab-bag response. It wasn't wrong per sey but it did indicate a past history of abuse. The type of answer given by someone who expected to be harmed or ignored if they gave the "wrong" answer. Danny tended to use that method also and their parents had always been negligent at best.
"And are you going to do it again?" She asked giving him a Look as she did. Bane's eyes widened and he tried to frantically shake his head as much as possible with the pressure on his neck.
"No, Ma'am." He promised fervently.
"Alright then," Jazz said giving him a warm smile. She gestured vaguely towards the guards without turning to look at them. "Kyle here is going to take you to see the nurse and then back to your room then. I'm sure you'll behave for him?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I'll behave." Bane said. Jazz stood slowly asking sure not to put any additional pressure on his neck as she did. Kyle came and stood next to her as the giant of a man slowly pulled himself to his feet then led him away with 5 other guards.
Jazz heaved a sigh. Well, time to find out whether or not she could play all that off as normal, non-Meta human behavior.
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mostly-imagines · 14 days
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Moonstruck
jason todd x reader
aka sober thoughts and all that
warnings: intoxication
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Jason has a thing about drinking around you. He’d kind of skirted around it for a while when you were first dating, but after a while you’d noticed he never really has more than a drink or two regardless of how much you had. The only times you ever see him drink more is when he’s downing whiskey as a pain mitigater when he needs stitches. You’d initially assumed he just wasn’t a big drinker, but eventually you’d come to realize it was more of a matter of not wanting to lose his inhibitions around you. 
You know he’s still working on trusting himself, even sober, because he’s terrified of accidentally hurting you. But you have a hard time imagining him losing control like that in any state and you’re nearly certain he’s just being hard on himself.
You’ve been falling in and out of less than peaceful sleep for the past few hours, having trouble easing yourself while your boyfriend is still out. You at least attempted to get to bed earlier tonight because for once he isn’t out fighting crime and risking injury, though you haven’t found much more luck than usual. 
You lie on your back, half ready to give up and turn on a movie while you wait.
You’re momentarily startled to hear Dick bellow out your name, no regard for the fact that it’s nearing three in the morning and you have neighbors. He’s not much of a shouter so you’re instantly on alert, worried that he or Jason are hurt.
You fumble out of bed and rush to the living room, surprised to find your fire escape empty. You turn, proceeding towards the front door, opening it cautiously. 
“Dick? What—” You don’t need to finish your question because the second you take one good look at the two of them, the state of them is immediately clear. Dick, who’s barely standing upright on his own, supports your boyfriend's weight via Jason’s arm slinged around his shoulder.
“Hey!” Dick grins at you, far more lively than he has any business being this late at night. “Sorry, couldn’t remember which apartment was yours.”
You nod pensively, “Well the perspective’s different than when you’re coming in through the window.”
He continues on past that without thought, “I’ve come to deliver,” he says, gesturing up to Jason with a bit of a strain. You’re pretty sure there were supposed to be a couple more words at the end of that sentence but you understand well enough anyway.
You nod, eyebrows raised and try to hide a smile. “Thanks, Dick.” He shifts your boyfriend off of his shoulder to lean him up against the door frame, where Jason places a majority of his weight.
You eye him warily, not confident in his steadiness. He seems to hold well enough against the heavy door though, his eyes drifting around the tiled floor. Your attention shifts to Dick, who’s clearly satisfied with a job well done and ready to go.
You tilt your head, seeing him turn away. “You good?”
“I’m great!” He calls out with a thumbs up. You watch as he staggers away, nearly missing the exit.
You look back over at Jason, who’s already staring at you with a soft gaze. “You’re pretty,” he fawns, irises blown out and flickering all over your face.
“Oh you’re drunk drunk.” You grin, watching him stumble forward a bit.
He shakes his head, looking a bit dizzy after, “Shoulda seen Tim.”
You pause mid laugh, “…Who drove you here?”
He falters at that, gaze falling to the floor. “Uh…” He winces, “Damian…”
You nod slowly, eyes wide, “We’re gonna talk about that tomorrow.”
“He’s better than you’d think.” You’d hope so. 
Well, at least he’s spending time with his brothers.
You sigh, straightening your posture in preparation for the job to come. “Alright, come on big guy,” you pull him up from his slant against the wall, hauling him into the same position he’d been in with Dick—though you’re struggling significantly more to hold him upright. “You gotta help me out here, Jay,” you grunt, trying very hard not to fold under his weight. You swat the door shut behind you, making peace with the fact that he’ll scold in the morning for not locking it.
He presses an uncoordinated kiss to the side of your head as you try to shuffle him along, not interested in the least in easing your labor. His self discipline isn't quite gone, but his awareness of how big he is sure seems to be. 
You wobble from the heavy weight of his arm around your shoulders, holding onto him by his waist. You manage to get him to sidestep your cat, narrowly, though Salem hisses at him all the same. Jason takes no notice. You stumble into your bedroom with only about 30% of his usual balance aiding your effort.
He collapses onto the bed the second his legs hit the frame, pulling you down with him. You lie, somewhat awkwardly, on his chest as he holds you tight—probably tighter than he would if he were sober. It feels nice though.
You lie your cheek flat on his chest, relaxing against him. “What’d you guys do? Thought you were just having an easy night.”
He takes a deep breath before answering, “Raided Dick’s liquor c—” he stops, mulling over his words. “...Bruce’s liquor that was in Dick’s cabinet.” He annunciates every word in that sentence very carefully.
You squint speculatively, “Didn’t take Dick for the stealing type.”
He grumbles, “He’s not. ‘Less it’s Bruce.”
You can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face, “Aw, you really do take after your big brother, don’t you?” 
He scoffs at that, “I don’t. I’m the one who gave him the idea.” Yeah, that sounds right.
He taps on your cheek lightly and you pick your head up to find him looking at you with puppy dog eyes.
“What’s that look for?”
“Can I kiss you?” his eyes drop down to your lips, “I really wanna kiss you.” He’s nearly whispering and you feel your heart skip several beats at the feeling of his eyes on you like this.
You press a light kiss to his lips and he practically purrs.  
You pull back, admiring the serene expression on his face. “You taste like whiskey.”
“I like whiskey,” he says honestly.
You smile, nodding. “I know. Don’t know why, but..”
He leans in for another kiss but you parry, only letting his lips meet your cheek. He frowns grimly, attempting to chase your lips. 
“Lemme kiss you,” the pout on his face is adorable and while you hesitate to deny him, you retreat, resting your chin on his chest.
You smile wistfully, tracing his cheekbone, “You’re drunk, baby.”
“‘M not that drunk,” he tells you, though everything about him says otherwise.
Your hand falls flat on his shoulder. “Your eleven year old brother drove you here.”
He shrugs, “He can drive the bat…batcar? Bat…”
“Batmobile,” you finish.
“The batmobile.” he nods, as if he was seconds away from remembering. You suspect he wasn’t. 
“Bruce lets him drive it?” you question, wholly disbelieving.
“No.”
Enough said.
“You’re gonna be hungover as hell in the morning,” you mumble, taking in his uninhibited demeanor.
He nods that off, “‘S okay. You’ll be here, right?”
You tilt your head, observing him chalantly. “Where else would I go?”
His arms snake tighter around you at that, giving you a little squeeze before relenting. 
“I wanna marry you,” he murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face and tucking it neatly behind your ear. 
You blink rapidly a few times, “What?” You push yourself up on his chest, sitting up on his abdomen.
“Wanna marry you.” He repeats, eyes lidded as he breathes easy under you. “You’re m’favorite person…want you t’be my wife.”
Your breath gets caught in your throat. “..You want me to be your wife?”
His lips are slightly parted and his pupils are wide as he stares up at you, taking in your features carefully. “‘Course I do.” He brings his fingers up to your cheek, touching you softly with all the wonderment of a little kid. “You’re so pretty.”
You’re quick to return, “So are you.” Especially right now.
He shuts his eyes momentarily, shaking his head morosely, “You gotta stop bein’ so nice t’me,” he lets his hand fall to rest on your thigh. “Don’t deserve it.”
“Shut up,” you lour, “You deserve it more than anybody.”
“No. Not more than you,” his hands knead at your thighs like it’s an instinct. “You deserve everything.” He closes his eyes, tilting his chin up as his head sinks further back into the pillow. “Think I’d do anything you wanted.”
“Jay—”
He continues on, “Want you t’be happy. Wanna make you happy.”
Your face falls into an expression of dazed awe, “You do make me happy.”
He dwindles at that, “No, really happy. Take care of you. Build you a house, give you babies. Wha’ever you want.”
He paws at your thighs, trying to get you to come closer again to him. You lay back down on top of him and his hand instantly buries itself in your hair, stroking softly. “You’re just…you’re so perfect…” He turns his head to mumble against your forehead, “Feel like I dreamed you, sometimes.”
You breathe deeply against the crook of his neck, eyes feeling glassy. “I love you.” It’s all you can get out, and it’s not enough, but it’s all of it. 
“I love you,” he says like he’s trying to turn it into gospel. “So much. I love you so much, so fuckin’ much.” His words start to get lost in his weary babbling.
Your chest feels full and you can distinctly feel every beat of your heart against it. Or maybe it’s Jason’s heart. But what’s the difference?
You press a tender kiss to the nape of his neck. “You’re really sweet when you’re drunk, you know that?”
He hums lowly, head lulling against yours.
You still for a second, finding his breathing has slowed and his hand has seized its movement in your hair. His soft breaths fill the air as you press a kiss to his collarbone before settling in completely. “You’re gonna love when I tell you about this in the morning,” you whisper, letting your eyes shut too.
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💗 likes are the poor mans reblog 💗
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yandere-daydreams · 8 months
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i'm being forced by myself to make a proper post for this poll. may gojo reign as a codependent king for years to come.
Cuteness Aggression With The Yan!JJK Boys.
Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Mahito, and Sukuna.
TW: Kidnapping, Unhealthy Relationships, and Implied Non/Con.
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Gojo is near-violent. Expect to be constantly covered in bruises from his habit of full-body tackling you whenever he notices you're wearing one of his shirts or curled up in his bed or quirking your lips in the way he's never been able to resist. Tends to hold onto you for a while, too, keeping you pressed against him while he squeals and coos about how adorable his partner is, making you sound like more of an especially beloved pet rather than a live-in captive. No amount of squirming will distract him, either - he's going to be there until someone literally pries him off of you which, because there's a good chance he's already got you locked up tight in that luxury penthouse of his, isn't going to be anytime soon.
Geto is more used to receiving affection than dulling it out, so he doesn't really know what to do with himself when he's suddenly overwhelmed with the temptation to wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stop laughing in a way that makes his heart want to beat out of his chest. In the end, he sorta just,,, picks you up and starts carrying you around like a giant cat. Maybe pinches your cheek when you inevitably start complaining and ask to be put down. Cult members who ask why you've been slung over his shoulder for the past hour and a half are immediately done away with and curse-users don't fair much better.
Nanami, as the only (relatively) emotionally-regulated person on this list, takes it in-stride. He tries not to force affection onto you, so he'll settle for a few headpats and maybe a kiss to your forehead, if you aren't absolutely terrified of him at that point. If you catch him in a more vulnerable state, either injured or exhausted, he might be a little more forceful - wrapping an arm around your waist and hauling you against his chest, where he can hold you until you eventually give-in and stop struggling, but at least he tries to hold himself back. Sometimes. Maybe. If you're lucky, that day.
Toji is almost as bad as Geto, but not quite as awkward. He tends to scoop you up, drag you away from whatever you're doing, and lay you down where he can pepper your face with kisses and whine when you shove at his chest. He usually lets you go after a few minutes, but it's in your best interest not to squirm too much until he does. He'll just smirk and kiss your neck and say something about how precious his little sweetheart is being, today. The fondness-motivated aggression is short-lived. What he'll do if you give him the idea that you might need more of his affection won't be.
Mahito is twice as unhinged as Gojo and only half as self-conscious. His only saving grace is that, by the time he gets genuinely overwhelmed by something you do, you're going to be used to weathering his constant attempts to suffocate you via forty-five minute hugs. When he realizes how cutely you wince when he pokes a fresh bruise and decides he has to dig his teeth into your shoulder and refuse to let go about it, you'll probably be too used to his ""affection"" to do anything other than sigh and make sure he doesn't severe anything important, this time.
Sukuna is, in his defense, rarely gentle about anything, so you really can't expect him to have a gentle reaction when he sees what an adorable reaction you wear as you wait for him to take his first drink from the chalice you laced with you most recent poisonous fixation. You can kick and thrash all you want as two of his arms loop under yours and pull you onto his lap, as he cups your face and shoves tongue down your throat and wonders aloud if you taste as endearing as you look. He always keeps you by his side, but for the rest of the day, he won't be satisfied unless you're practically on top of him, riding on his shoulders or straddling his thigh. He'll even drink your deadly little elixir straight from the bottle, if you ask him to. It won't work, but you know, it's the thought that counts and all <3
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pucksandpower · 22 days
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My Brother’s Father
Charles Leclerc x Piastri!Reader
Summary: apparently you’re dating your brother’s father and Charles is dating his son’s sister … what a mess!
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You toss another shirt into the open suitcase on the bed, humming to yourself as you go through the closet. Charles will be home from training any minute and you want to have your little prank all set up before he arrives.
The front door opens and closes, followed by the familiar sound of Charles’ keys hitting the bowl by the entrance. “Mon amour? You home?” He calls out.
“In here!” You respond, stifling a grin. You pick up the pace, grabbing handfuls of clothing and dropping them haphazardly into the suitcase.
He rushes down the hallway, ready to convince you to join him for a shower. But when he reaches the bedroom door, his heart sinks.
“What … what are you doing?” He asks, horrified.
You glance up, your face the picture of innocence. “Oh, hello darling! I was just packing a few things.”
“Packing? For what? Are you … are you leaving me?” The words crack in his throat.
You sigh theatrically, shaking your head. “I’m afraid I have to, Charles. I can’t be with you anymore.”
“What? Why?” He staggers forward, feeling like he’s been kicked in the gut. “Did I do something wrong? Whatever it is, I’m sorry! We can fix it!”
Shooting him a mischievous look, you bite your lip. “It’s because of Oscar.”
Charles freezes. “Your brother? What does he have to do with us?”
“Well, think about it ...” You abandon the suitcase, sauntering over and trailing a fingertip down his chest. “When you adopted him, that made you his father. Ergo … you’re my brother’s father now.”
Charles gapes at you, completely lost. “I … what? That’s not how it works! I was just joking on Twitter-”
“So you’re saying you don’t see Oscar as your son?” You arch an eyebrow accusingly.
“Well, no, I don’t actually-”
You shake your head, clucking your tongue. “Shameful, Charles. Denying your own child like that.”
“But he’s not really-”
“Poor Oscar,” you lament, throwing a hand against your forehead dramatically. “Rejected by his own father! No wonder he’s been texting me constantly, sobbing about what an awful dad you are.”
Charles scrambles to catch up. “Oscar has not been … we’re not actually related, Y/N!”
“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” You back away, hands on your hips. “But the fact is, I can’t date my own brother’s father. It’s just … wrong. Morally corrupt.”
“You’re being completely ridiculous!” Charles throws his hands up.
Whirling on him, you jab a finger into his chest. “So you’re calling your son a liar now too? How dare you!”
He opens his mouth, then closes it, at a total loss. You stare at him expectantly, arms folded.
Finally, Charles decides to change tactics. “Fine, okay, let’s say all that is true. For the sake of argument. That still doesn’t mean we have to break up!”
You blink at him innocently. “It doesn’t?”
“No!” He grabs your hands, holding them tightly. “Mon cœur, I love you. We can make this work.”
Pursing your lips, you pretend to consider it. “I don’t know … having a romantic relationship with my brother’s father? It just feels so sordid and taboo.”
Charles groans, rolling his eyes. “You’re making no sense. This is all hypothetical!”
“Is it, though?” You wiggle your fingers free, tapping your chin. “The heart wants what it wants, Charles. And mine wants to avoid a salacious love affair with Oscar’s own dad.”
Throwing up his hands again, Charles growls in frustration. “This is completely insane! We were together before I ever ‘adopted’ Oscar as a joke on Twitter!”
“Were we?” You ask loftily. “Sometimes the lines get so blurred, don’t they? It’s hard to keep track of what came first.”
Charles stares at you wildly for a long beat. Then, abruptly, he lunges forward — sweeping you up into his arms as you squeal in surprise. You flail dramatically as he hauls you over to the bed, tossing you down onto the rumpled sheets with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Charles Leclerc, what do you think you’re … eep!” Your faux outrage melts into peals of laughter as he attacks your sides with wiggling fingers, mercilessly tickling you. “Stop, stop! I give up, I give up!”
But he’s relentless, pinning you to the mattress as his fingers dance expertly over your most ticklish spots. You thrash and giggle helplessly, tears of mirth springing to your eyes.
“Say you’re not breaking up with me!” He demands, grinning wickedly. “Say it, or I’ll never stop!”
“Never!” You gasp out, breathless with laughter. “I’ll never, hahaha, surrender!”
Lunging up, he captures your lips in a heated kiss, stealing your breath away. You melt against him with a contented hum, tangling your fingers in his soft hair as his hands roam over your body possessively. The teasing banter falls away, replaced by the familiar sparks of want and need that always seem to simmer between you.
When you finally break apart, you’re both flushed and panting. Charles gazes down at you with dark, molten eyes. “Are you done being ridiculous now?”
You try for an imperious look, but can’t quite hide the smirk tugging at your lips. “Well … I suppose I could be persuaded to overlook that our family tree is quickly turning into a wreath.”
“You’re impossible,” he mutters, dipping his head to trail scorching kisses along the exposed column of your throat.
Throwing your head back with a breathy sigh, you concede, “Fine, fine. I’m not actually breaking up with you, you lunatic.”
“Thank god.” He raises his head, his expression turning serious as he cups your cheek tenderly. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay? I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”
You cover his hand with yours, turning to press a soft kiss against his palm. “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to worry you so much. I was just having a bit of fun.”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t funny to me.” He tries to look stern, but you can see the fondness sparkling in his warm green eyes. “No more jokes about us splitting up. Or pretending I’m actually related to your brother. Deal?”
Tracing the beloved lines of his face, you murmur, “Deal. I promise to leave Oscar out of our sexy games from now on.”
Charles barks out a surprised laugh. “Our what now?”
You grin unrepentantly. “What? Like you’ve never fantasized about me calling you ‘daddy’ before?”
He flushes bright red, sputtering as you dissolve into giggles once more. Leaning down, he silences you with another heated kiss — and soon, all thoughts of Oscar and Twitter jokes are utterly forgotten.
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lokis-army-77 · 8 months
Text
A Text Away
Modern!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 1.7k
You've been horny all day and Eddie is at band practice... but you know a way to get him home.
Warning: 18 +. face sitting/riding, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex.
And thank you to @strangerxperv for the absolutly fabulous idea 💗
Masterlist
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After a long day at work, there were two things you wanted. One, a nice hot shower, and two, your boyfriend to fuck you into next week. 
It wasn’t Eddie’s fault that watching him get dressed to go work at the local record store made you horny. He couldn’t help the fact that every time you saw the little trail of hair dipping past the waist of his pants, your legs clenched, and your body grew warmer.
You dealt with your racing thoughts all through your own shift at the bookshop, imagining your return home and how good he would feel against you. 
Only, he wasn’t home when you unlocked your apartment door. 
Sighing in disappointment you trudge to the bathroom to start warming the water. As you wait, you text Eddie.
Where are you? I need you..  like really bad.
Your phone dings a few minutes later while you are in the middle of scrubbing shampoo in your hair.
Wiping your hand off on the towel, you reach for your phone, lying on the small shelf above the towel rack. 
Eddie had responded.
In a bit baby. I'm at practice.
You pout as you read the text only to smile mischievously. You message him as fast as you can with one dry hand.
But Eddie.. if you come home I'll sit on your face. And I mean really sit on your face.
There is no ding of a notification once you set your phone back down and continue your shower routine. 
Twenty minutes later, you've given up on Eddie answering you, have put on your comfiest pajamas, and are now snuggled up in bed. 
You're startled when the front door slams open and you hear thick boots pacing in your direction. 
"Take your fucking pants off right now," Eddie commands as he bursts into your shared bedroom. 
You're sat up, back against the headboard, staring at him, bewildered as he practically flops backward onto the bed.
When he hadn’t texted you back you assumed he just wasn't interested at the moment, you never could have imagined this. 
You start to giggle when he starts making grabby hands at you. "Pussy on my mouth, now." 
When the words leave his mouth, you practically choke on a laugh. 
"Babe, quit laughing and get up here. Set on my fucking face like you promised." He grumps. 
You have no choice but to obey as you say, "Okay okay, patient much?"
It's only fair that you tease him a little. So you slowly emerge from under the covers, fingers delicately pulling at the waist of your pajama pants. 
Eddie watches with a hunger in his dark brown eyes. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips when you begin to tug your pants down. Slowly but surely you are exposed to him and he almost dies when he realizes you weren't wearing panties. 
Before you can even get to your knees, Eddie is gripping your ankle and pulling your body down the bed to him with a strength acquired from years of hauling heavy amps and other musical equipment from place to place. 
"Eddie!" You squeal, more laughter leaving you when your head falls, bouncing on the mattress. 
"You're going too slow, baby." He cries, letting his hold up but hands never leaving you.  
You shake your head, a knowing smirk playing on your lips. Finally, you get to your knees and straddle him. He is impatiently pulling you up his body, only stopping when you are hovering over his face. 
Your eyes meet his as you stare down between your legs. He'd got a big, goofy grin plastered on his face. 
"Fuck." He sighs. "I've died and gone to heaven." His large hands wrap around your legs and right before he pulls you flush to his mouth he says, "Don't hold back."
When his hot mouth makes contact with your waiting pussy, you gasp. The need you had been feeling all day long now has an outlet. 
Eddie's tongue swipes through your folds, lapping up the arousal that had already started to seep from your cunt. His nose rubs against your clit, pulling a strangled moan from you. 
A hand shoots down to tangle in his hair when his tongue plays at the rim of your cunt, flicking ever so slightly in and out of you.
He's like a man starved as he devours all that is given to him. You feel his fingers moving up to your hips. There's a slight pressure as he pushes you and in a flush of worry, you pull off of him.
The desperate whine that falls past his already swollen lips makes your heart flutter.
"Why'd you move away?"
"You were pushing me.. are you okay? I thought you couldn't breathe." I exasperate.
"No, I was trying to get you to ride me. Hump my face sweetheart." He doesn't say another word, he just grips onto you once more and pulls you down. 
You understand what he wants now, so you lean back, hands resting on the tops of his things behind you, and you canter your hips. Slow and steady you used him for your own pleasure. 
"Eddie-" you sigh breathlessly, head falling back between your shoulders. 
He hums in response. The vibrations travel up through your core and into your body. Shivers accompany them as you feel a knot forming in your stomach.
"Eddie please-" Your knees and arms are burning as you continue to grind yourself against him. "I'm gonna- shit I'm gonna cum."
Your lungs are struggling to fill with air as you get closer and closer to release. Eddie's hands are wrapped over your thighs, fingers searching for your clit. 
When he finds it, you double over. The knot pulls tighter and you feel a sheen of sweat cover your body. 
Quickly, your first orgasm comes to light. There's a blazing fire erupting within you and it takes all you have not to fall flat on your face. Long, drawn-out moans flow from you and Eddie does not stop. His tongue pushed into you, tasting your release. 
His fingers now grip the fat of your ass harshly. He keeps you on top of him and he moves his face from side to side as best he can with you practically smothering him with your pussy. 
This time he does actually push you up off him. He takes a deep breath and groans. "Fuck baby, taste so good." He turns his head, kissing the inside of your thigh and then he bites you. His teeth sink into the soft skin in the crease where your inner thigh meets with your body. 
In a series of fluid movements, Eddie has you on your back in an instant. He unzips his pants and pulls himself out of them, tugging on his hardness before getting into position. Your legs are being pushed back by his hands holding you at the bend of the knee. 
"You're so pretty like this… pussy all wet and needy for me." His voice is muffled by the loud beating of your heart in your ears. "Mmm gonna fuck you full."
You whimper as you feel his hard length run through your glistening folds, his hips jutting against the backs of your thighs. 
"Yeah, you like that? Want me to fill you with my cum?" 
You nod, crying out when his cock finally pressed through the tight threshold of your cunt. "Need it, please, I need it."
"Just my little cum baby aren't you?" He asks, fully sheathing himself in you.
Your back arches off the bed and you groan. Fingernails scratching at Eddie’s forearms. 
He pulls back and slams into you. "Aren't you?"
"Yes!" You cry out. His cock reaches into the very depths of you, the tip hitting in just the right place to make you scream. "Yes! I am, I am, Eddie!"
"Mmm, good. Gonna give it all to you, sweetheart. Gonna breed this pretty fuckin' pussy." His fingers adjust themselves as his grip slips and then he's pounding into you at such a brutal pace. Back and forth, in and out, he is fucking you raw.
Your walls clamp around him, the drag of his cock stimulates you more and you clench harder. 
Skin on skin, the noises that they make are obscene. The squelch of him entering you has your face burning, not in embarrassment but desire. His gruff growls and fucked out moans accompany those other sounds and all they do is make you even more horny. 
Eddie fucks into you with reckless abandon, mind full of images of your belling swollen with his child. How much he would love for you to sit on his face like that, all pretty and pregnant. 
Your toes curl when Eddie flips your t-shirt up to expose your breasts. A strong, calloused hand reaching out for the mound of flesh. He kneads it and pulls on your nipple before swiping a gentle thumb over the hardened bud.
The way he fucks you is savage. Hips snapping at a speed you couldn't imagine, his fingers squeeze your skin so hard you are sure you will have brushes in the shape of his hands all over you. 
The knot pulls tighter once more and your body begins to lock up in anticipation. Your eyes flutter before rolling to the back of your head. Your hands reach for his, interlocking your fingers, hoping he will keep you down on Earth. 
As your orgasm hits once more, you wail. A long, monotone cry bursts from your lungs, whole unattractive but who cares when you feel so so so good? 
"That's it. That's fucking it." Eddie gasps. Your cunt is practical milking him. He's trying to hold off but it's all just too much. A shiver runs up his spine and his balls pull taut. He's lost his rhythm, hips now bucking unevenly and with desperation. 
All it takes is another whimper from you and he's a gunner. With one last hard thrust, he keeps himself buried to the hilt. Your walls are spasming around him, your release gushing out along with his own sticky, milky white cum. 
"Yes, fuck yes. That's it, baby, take all my fucking cum." 
He falls forward, letting go of your knees.  His forehead rests in the crook of your neck and his lips press softly into your skin. He kisses you, a needed juxtaposition from mere seconds ago. 
His breath is warm on your salt-slicked skin as he speaks again. "Such a good little cum baby, taking all that. S'what you wanted, hum?"
You close your eyes, tired. "Yeah," you whisper. "Just what I wanted."
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