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ew-selfish-art · 6 months

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Dpx Dc AU: Ectoplasm is required for Ghosts to be visible to the human eye- And Danny creates his own ectoplasm.

Danny is visiting Jazz in Gotham and its weird how friendly everyone is. Like, the city gets a really bad rapport, everywhere he goes there is someone trying to strike up a conversation or answer his questions about getting around to the tourist spots. A few people even pointed out restaurants and ways to find off the beaten path gems! Jazz seems to role her eyes at him, but when he brings up her 'roommate' being kind of cute she flat out laughs.

Danny then comes to understand the Jazz doesn't have a roommate and that Ghosts in Gotham don't move far from their haunts- He's just been inadvertently turning these undead folks visible by accident of generating abnormal amounts of ectoplasm.

Which, is comforting in a way, he's never walking this dangerous city alone and really, most of the ghosts have been really friendly! They disappear once he's a few blocks away from them anyway.

---

Tim Drake is having a horrible day.

He'd been given intel that one of Black Mask's guys was going to snitch but that he'd died before given the opportunity to reach out to the GCPD. He tracks down the guy's last know whereabouts and yikes. Its next to the Theater. Tim was often grateful for his childhood obsessions, this time it backfired.

Tim and Bruce get into an argument about trust and respect and, worst of all, mental health. And even though Tim was vehemently against Batman accompanying Red Robin to the alleyway - that's exactly what happens.

They arrive and Bruce is closing up faster than a clam in the contaminated Gotham Bay- Clearly being in the Alley bothers him. No fucking shit. RR gets started on collecting evidence, there are a few extra blood splatters and a single left shoe... When a kid walks into the Alley.

"Uh, sorry to intrude-" The kid looks scared shitless, and runs away. And then, all of a sudden, Batman and Robin aren't alone in the Alley.

Tim can hardly believe his eyes as the dead man appears and quickly blabs Black Mask's bank passwords and what the plan had been- and While he's over joyed to have that closure, he turns around to Batman weeping in the arms of his parents.

The ghosts fade, and the emotions are certainly charged as this was never something Bruce or Tim would have ever dreamed of happening. Ghosts in Gotham. Talking, floating, granting closure.

"RR, Bats, come in." Oracle calls into their ears.

"Reporting in, but, uh, we need a minute."

"A minute? We have a case on 4th and-"

"O, we just saw the ghosts of the Waynes. It's going to be a minute."

"...Lots of Ghost reports lately then. Any chance you saw a kid looking like he could be adopted?"

"Yeah, actually, black hair and blue eyes. He was super polite before he ran away."

"We have work to do. Oracle, lets prioritize finding our person of interest and divert Nightwing and Robin to the case on 4th." Batman cut between them on the comms and he sounded... calmer than either of them anticipated.

---

Jazz is no longer laughing when Batman appears at her door explaining that he's looking for Danny (Who already flew away from town to get a good night's sleep before class on Monday). Turns out Danny reunited the man with his dead parents just briefly- and then the second guy appears and mentions how Danny had also given a guy who'd been murdered by a Mob enough time to explain the ongoing threats the city faced.

Jazz just rolls her eyes and says that it's not like the ghosts are going anywhere anytime soon and Danny will visit in another month. When pressed, she just explains that her brother is a weirdo. No of course he doesn't have powers. Gaslight and Girlbosses her way out.

And Jazz thinks that the game is up for at least another month, obviously when Danny visits more shit will stir up, but then this new guy appears.

Unlike the other Bats who are keen on watching her from a distance, the Red Hood knocks on her door. Are her eyebrows all the way into her hairline when Red Hood asks her to send his thanks along to Danny because somehow this whole situation led to his Dad expressing remorse for his actions and apologizing? Yes, yes they are.

But Jazz can smell Dissertation Data off of these vigilantes- Who is she to send them away? Jazz welcomes Red Hood into her place for a cup of tea and a small chat.

The story then devolves into Jazz getting shit done, Danny being cute by proximity and also bringing ghosts to the party, and the Bats having trauma resolve between them.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #danny can make ghosts appear like they do in amity but only for a short while and when in proximity to him #its not apparent in amity because the ghosts are just like that there #Danny just having a good time #Danny having zero brain cells about this whole thing and neither he nor jazz will offer explanations #they're just like 'gotham has ghosts. its not like he put them there'#Bruce getting into therapy because his dead parents said they were proud of him and he didnt know how to handle that #bruce having to turn this energy around somehow and seeing jason - my boy i love you so much and im so sorry and im so proud of you #heres the thing i dont know how i made it anger management ship at the end but i sure as fuck did.#jason is at a lack of words at bruce's confessions of pride and love but is also about to be a BAT about this and track down info #info in the form of a cute girl #oh yeah she has a brother #uh well #he has brothers too- this is fine #someone write this fic pls n thx u

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fangswbenefits · 10 months

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For Science

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: There has been a rumour circulating in regards to Miguel’s venom. It has to be too far-fetched, right?

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

𓂅 𓄹 Warnings: 18+. Fangs. Biting. Venom!play (is that a thing?).

You eyed Jessica Drew with utmost interest as she worked her way around Miguel’s surveillance station, easily dragging files in and out of the multiple screens.

“Why do you get access to his stuff and I don’t?” you asked as sudden jealousy crept in.

“We go way back,” she started, pulling some information to her watch. “You’ll get there in time…”

Your ego soared.

“… if you don’t keep annoying him.”

It immediately plummeted.

“He’s easy to piss off,” you beamed. “And I’m easily entertained. What can I say? Match made in heaven.”

She chuckled at your antics. “Just don’t get yourself expelled.”

You nodded and waved your hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. So have you heard that rumour about him?”

Jessica finished setting up her watch and mission logs and threw you a suspicious look.

“Well… the one that says his venom does more than causing paralysis,” you wiggled your eyebrows, letting the not so subtle implication dangle.

“You know what? One day Miguel is going to kick you out and I won’t do anything about it.”

“What? I didn’t come up with this!”

It was absolutely true. You hard heard it from some spiders one night while strolling throught the lobby. Rumours came and went. No one thought much of them and these were just harmless fun.

“Well, I’m not commenting on this.”

“Fine! But it’s fascinating.”

Jessica sighed, rotated on her feet and went down the stairs. “You can go ask Miguel, then.”

“Ask Miguel what?”

You froze in place as spider-man 2099 entered the dark room, eying both of you.

“Oh, I’m out,” Jessica snorted, heading towards the exit. “You two have fun.”

Miguel kept his gaze on your and you waved a hand at him.

He frowned.

“Lyla, reroute all the main sectors to earth-1610,” he said, pressing on his dimensional travel watch. “Any possibility of a canon event being disrupted must be reported to Jessica.”

The AI appeared next to him and adjusted her heart-shaped glassed up the bridge of her nose. “Is she tagging along, too?” she pointed at you.

He shook his head. “Not a chance. She’s more useful here.”

“Hey!” you were about to protest, but decided against it.

You knew there was a compliment in there somewhere. Your past missions had not gone without some minor bumps, which was why it had been decided the previous day that you’d tag along Miguel for a couple of weeks to hone your off-field abilities.

“Anything major must be reported to me.”

Jessica nodded but Lyla was not so easily dismissed. “I didn’t hear you say iiit.”

Miguel rolled his eyes. “Thank you for your services as always, Lyla.”

She took a dramatic bow and vanished.

He took large steps towards the platform, greeting you with a curt nod.

How would you describe your relationship with Miguel O’Hara? Tense? On the verse of collapse each time you teased him? Friendly? But only when you didn’t have to spend more than one hour together.

“Morning to you, too, boss,” you saluted.

He let out an exasperated sigh as he checked the screens in front of him.

Maybe you should go easy on him. You were already on thin ice, but just adored pushing him. There was something about teasing him that just did wonders to you.

“Did you sleep well? Did you get some food?”

“Don’t start getting on my nerves.”

You raised both hands, feigning a look of innocence. “I did nothing. You’re paranoid.”

His head turned to you.

“You do have an issue obeying the chain of command. Your last mission was a disaster, because you got into an argument with Peter instead of focusing on the anomaly — don’t interrupt me!” he said pinching the bridge of his nose as you were about to defend yourself. “You have much to offer, but you’re also all over the place and lack discipline. I don’t think you—”

You gave him a jaw-popping yawn which effectively cut him off.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I boring you?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You do know that I was pressured by others to let go of you.”

A long pause stretched out.

“Then why didn’t you?”

In your mind, you had hoped your growing friendship with him had played a part, but…

“You have potential,” he said with a sigh. “One day you might even be better than me.”

Well, that was a high praise and your spine snapped straight instantly. “Really?”

“Maybe… probably not,” he concluded. “But if you keep your focus and work hard, you will be a very skilled spider.”

You rolled your eyes. “Woah, thanks a bunch!”

In truth, you knew Miguel was trying his best to smooth over your bruised ego, but your pride got the best of you.

“Any questions you have, just let me know,” he said reassuringly while glancing at the screens in front of him.

“I can ask anything?”

“Yes.”

“Sooo… have you heard that rumour about your venom?”

It was too early in the day to be so serious, so you genuinely saw no harm in lightening the mood.

He threw you a side glance. “Be specific.”

“Well… that it can cause extreme pleasure,” you blurted out. “Oh, besides the paralysis thingy,” you quickly added.

Miguel turned to fully face you. “I don’t even want to know where that came from.”

Deep down, you felt a pang of disappointment. It would be such an interesting finding.

“Ah, so it’s not true.”

“Probably not.”

That piqued your interest. “Probably? So there’s a chance? It’s just so fascinating, because you’re already so different from the rest of us,” you started rambling not able to hold back your enthusiasm. “Now this is just an added layer!”

You were a scientist at heart and Miguel was pretty much an outlier when it came to being a spider-man. For months you had been trying to let him agree to you running some tests, but to no avail.

In all honesty, Miguel knew his way around science and the inner workings of biology better than you could ever, so he had no reason to indulge your curiosity.

“How do you do it? Is it the same venom or a different one?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Science, remember?”

It was a half truth, though. Yes, this would be mind-blowing science-wise, but this was also about Miguel O’Hara. The very man who had been guiding you through spider society for months. The same men who whose genius and dedication had built the foundations of the spider society.

He now had both hands on his hips and you figured you were already pushing it too far, but enjoyed doing it too much to stop now.

“Can you just tell me how it works? Please?” You clasped your hands together into a beg, hoping it would be enough to bait him for information.

But Miguel remained unfazed.

“No.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” you offered expectantly.

He didn’t budge.

“Please, pretty please?” you tried once again.

Nothing.

“I’ll bring you empanadas every single day from now on,” you enthused. “On demand! Whenever you have those cravings. Two in the morning? Check! Canon event disrupted and universes imploding? Check!”

Miguel quirked an eyebrow. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Is that a yes?”

“No.”

“Just show me how it works,” you sounded desperate by now. Arguing with Miguel ranked high up with the likes of trying to move a boulder with a wooden fork. “How did you get it to work?”

His eyes to widened slightly. “Show you?” he started out. “Are you asking me to pleasure you?”

Now that was probably on your top three of ‘Things you never expect Miguel O’Hara to say’.

“Oh — I mean… well… what?” you stammered, caught by surprise. “I didn’t — you know… huh…”

He only glared at your babbling self.

“Are you… offering?”

Miguel extended his arm to you. “Give me your hand.”

You panicked. “What? Now?”

“For science, right?”

Point taken.

You hesitated momentarily. “You’re not going to paralyse me, right?”

“Do you want me to?”

You offered your hand for him to grip, flipping it palm up. “No.”

“Then I won’t.”

Miguel’s voice was so flat he could just be reading items off a grocery list.

His gloved fingers traced the heel of your palm and his eyes darted down. You held your breath at the sight of him lowering his head. “This might sting.”

And just like that, you watched in complete awe as Miguel O’hara bared his fangs, slowly raking them across your skin before digging into the flesh.

“Ouch!”

Your stomach turned and your heart fluttered as his warm lips grazed the spot he had just bitten. Two circular and symmetrical openings pooled with a tiny amount if blood.

“So? Do you feel a wave of intense carnal bliss?” Miguel asked, straightening up and brushing the droplets away with his thumb.

You merely stood there, waiting for something — anything — to kick in. But as tense seconds ticked by, it was evident nothing was happening.

“No…”

He shrugged, letting go of your hand to tap his watch. “Ah, well. My pleasuring abilities must be below par this morning.”

You scowled at him and considered smashing his arm with a fist. “You could have just said it was all a lie!” you grunted in sheer annoyance, feeling like an idiot. “Now I’m bleeding to death.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“You’re annoying,” you huffed as you checked the bite marks.

“It’s not a lie. I can indeed inject an innocuous version of my venom that can be quite pleasurable,” he said.

“Then do it!” you said, your temper flaring.

Miguel wasn’t one to take orders. He was much more into being the one to call the shots, but your curiosity was eating you alive now that he had revealed that this rumour had some truth to it.

He was now looming over you, his impressive height adding to the tension. “It depends on where I inject the venom. Certain places are more effective,” his voice was uncharacteristicly low as his eyes landed on your neck. “This is just scientific curiosity, right?”

Your mouth had gone too dry to reply, so you just shrugged. Miguel had you taking a few steps back until your lower back hit the railing that lined the platform, causing your hands to clasp around it reflexively.

“Tilt your head.”

You did as you were told and felt his fingers tracing along your jaw, angling you just the way he wanted.

“Hold on tight,” he said, breath now fanning the prickling skin of your neck. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

Feeling your face heat up from the sudden close proximity, you closed your eyes as if embracing for impact. He pressed his lips to your pulse point before digging his fangs slowly into you.

Your mouth dropped open, aghast, and you finally felt it. His venom poured from the fangs and into your bloodstream, spreading through your veins like wildfire. At first, it was just merely a pleasant sensation, like the one you’d get as you finally drank water after a hot day in the sun.

But it soon turned into something else, and unlike water, the new overwhelming feeling was leaving you thirstier with each thump of your racing heart.

Miguel had his hand on the back of your neck, keeping you in place. He moaned first — no, he grunted —, and you felt a jolt of almost painful pleasure shot down your spine and spread between your thighs.

Your grip on the metal surface wavered momentarily and you feared you might fall, but were firmly grounded by his other hand on your waist. It didn’t take long until your clit started throbbing in unison with your heartbeat.

“Miguel… this… this…”

Suddenly, your suit felt too tight and in the way, especially once he pressed lightly into you.

The venom was no longer being injected, but the remnants of it were enough to wreak havoc throughout your body.

“It’s just for science…” he growled, pulling his fangs away from you. “Does it feel good?”

You didn’t dare open your eyes and could only gasp when you felt him push his erection into you.

“Yeah… science… or whatever…” you gasped, feeling yourself being pushed over the edge with each second that passed.

Just when you thought your orgasm would hit you slowly, Miguel tilted your head to the side, exposing the intact skin.

You gripped his wrist as if holding on for dear life, fearing you’d explode. “Again?”

“Your body is neutralising my venom too fast,” he rumbled, lips hovering a sensitive spot. “I need to inject more.”

“Miguel…” you nearly cried out at the thought of your heart no being able to handle the intense pleasure.

“Look at me.”

Your breathing evened briefly as you did as commanded, his red eyes fixed on yours, pupils fully blown.

“Think you can do this?”

You blinked.

“I know you can take more.”

Your clit was now throbbing at an alarming rate at the promise of more of him.

Miguel flashed you his blood-tipped fangs before sinking them into you once again.

The liquid traveled through your body so fast, you felt like someone had punched the air out of your lungs. You vaguely wondered if you would die from this, and concluded that there were worse ways to go.

Being on the receiving end of Miguel’ dry humps would be enough to make anyone tip over the edge, let alone with the added layer of venom engulfing you into an explosive orgasm.

Your vision blurred in an instant as spams and contractions swept through your body. The friction of his clothed cock rubbing against your clit had you arch your back into him, feeling the bittersweet realisation that you were clamping around nothing. You weren’t sure if this was his venom’s doing, but you felt an overwhelming part of you wishing he had been inside you.

It hurt.

It hurt so good and lasted for so long, you like crying from the overwhelming tide of pleasure.

Miguel gave you time to ride out your orgasm, pressing a bloodied kiss to your lips, swallowing your cries.

Metallic taste filled your mouth and you broke away from him, gasping for air.

Your eyes landed on his crotch.

He was hard. Painfully hard. A faint stain of precum seeping through the material of his suit.

“You okay?”

You bent over, hands on your knees and laboured breaths.

“Are you?” you managed in between gasps.

Miguel crouched to eye-level with you. “I think you owe me one.”

“Yeah…” you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thanks for the… scientific… huh… demonstration.”

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara oneshot #miguel o’hara x y/n #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o’hara drabble

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peaktora · 3 months

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𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄: 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍˚◞♡ ⃗ dad!satoru gojo

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ instead of sleeping, satoru and your daughter argue over what to name her stuffed dragon.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊1.9k words. established relationship (#married). the toddler dialogue is purposefully not structured correctly since it’s words from a toddler. fem!reader. intended lowercase. warning: you will wish you had a kid with gojo after reading this.

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚.┊this was gonna be a basic thought post, but i got more and more interested in the concept and was like “y’know what? fuck it, ima just make this into a full fic.” so here we are with a more full look at dad!gojo <3.

satoru mumbles, "but i think he likes being called spike,” and it's obvious that he's sulking. you don't even have to look up from your book to confirm it.

“well, you don't know him like i do!” your daughter replies, tucking herself into your side.

you flip through the picture book's pages fast, just getting brief glances of its colorful illustrations. unicorns, dragons, knights, and princesses decorated the pages. after turning the last page, you sigh and put the book down on the nightstand. despite the fact that the book was designed for toddlers, it actually looked interesting. you just know you would love to read it to your toddler. you can imagine yourself reading it to her, seeing the excitement on her face as she explores the world of fantasy—her absolute favorite genre.

but unfortunately, that image in your head will have to wait for another day, because her attention? is completely taken by the debate between her and her father.

how the argument started is beyond you. just ten minutes ago, you and satoru were snuggled up on your daughter’s bed, trying to read her to sleep. and now? satoru and her are in a heated debate over what to name her stuffed dragon. it's tough not to be amazed at how something so easy can become so complicated with him.

"i bought him, drove him around in my car, and wrapped him up in a cute little box for you. i think we know each other pretty well.” satoru smiles and reaches across the bed for the dragon.

“nuh-uh! he not even like you!” your toddler, with her tiny hands and puffed cheeks, clutches her stuffed dragon tightly against her chest. the plushie, its vibrant green scales and friendly eyes, seemed to come alive in her hold.

he retreats back to his seat on the edge of your daughter's bed, his lips curled into a frown as he asks, "how come?"

her mouth opens, then closes again. you look away for a moment to give satoru a look of disapproval, and by the time you return your attention to her, her brows are already starting to furrow. she mumbles under her breath, "because," running her small fingers around the plush dragon’s ear. she looks to be at a loss for words, as if she hasn't come up with an answer to satoru's question.

but that's okay, since you—happily, do.

"because you’re taking his time away from storytime. and satoru, in case you didn't know? when it's time to go to bed, we have storytime.”

your daughter looks up, her face beaming as she screams, "yup! and mommy picks the super-duper bestest stories ever!"

satoru gasps, his eyes never leaving yours as he rises from his bed and holds his chest. "baby, who's side are you on?"

you roll your eyes, "i'm just sa—"

"oh, sweetheart," he mumbles as he rushes around the corner of the bed, his movements quick to reach your side. without wasting a second, he rests a palm on your forehead, checking your temperature with a clear look of false concern. concerned people don’t have to hold back the urge to smile. actually, they don't have a smile at all—but for some reason, satoru does, and he's terrible at hiding it. "are you sick? having some hallucinations? is that why you've decided to side with enemy?”

your daughter giggles, and it only feeds satoru's act.

he turns his head towards the source of the giggles. a playful pout forms on his lips as he teasingly asks, "or did this little munchkin of ours use her princess magic to change your mind? she has a way of doing that to me sometimes, y’know."

his free hand reaches towards your toddler, fingers wiggling in anticipation. as his fingers make contact with your little one's soft, ticklish skin, even more giggles slip past her lips.

she tries to squirm away from his touch, but that's when he adds another hand to the tickle fest, and all chance of escape is gone. at that point, she visibly gives up, curling into herself to try to halt her dad’s tickling.

“i-i don’t have powers, daddy!” you daughter manages to stifle out through her laughs. you smile at the sound—it’s one you'll never get tired of hearing.

"you can't be a princess without powers! every princess has powers!"

“i-i'm n-not a princess though!“

satoru's fingers pause in their spot, his eyes widening in disbelief. "not a princess? how on earth can that even be?"

you’re sure if she needed him to, he could easily write an entire book about how she’s a princess.

he scoops her up from her place next to you, careful not to let her dangling legs hit you in the process. she lands on his hip, her eyes fixated on him as he lovingly whispers, "you're daddy's little princess!" he pauses, then adds, "and mommy is the queen, so that makes me—"

“the king?”

“you’re just so smart, huh? see, a perfect quality of a princess.”

“but princesses have dragons! big ones with so many pretty colors and names! they go—“ she cuts herself off and raises her tiny arms high. with a wide smile on her face, she takes a deep breath and lets out a loud roar.

satoru nods and smiles warmly at her, "oh, i see...well, y’know what? not all princesses have dragons.”

she tilts her head, and you awe at the sight. “they don’t?”

"nope," he says, taking her tiny hand in his, wrapping it securely around his finger. he lightly massages the back of her hand, and it’s soothing—scratch that, reassuring. you can tell from the way your daughter leans her head on his shoulder, tucking herself in the crook of his neck. "you don't need a dragon to be a princess. you're my princess ‘cause you're kind, smart, and full of love. i'd say that's all you need to be one."

"really?" she asks, waiting for his nod before continuing. "okay…but i still want a dragon."

"i get it, munchkin," he hums as he takes the dragon plushie from the bed. "we still haven't figured out a name for this guy, hm?"

“nuh-uh!”

“he looks like his power is being super cuddly. he's so cuddly that he puts you right to sleep…how ‘bout…fluffy?"

“ew.”

“fluffy sounds cute, no?”

"but dragons aren't cute. daddy, they breathe fire."

"wel—" satoru begins, but your daughter interrupts.

“his name should be fireball!”

“satoru, she does have a point,” you assert.

she really did. it was a dragon, not something adorable, but something that’s usually thought of as a villain—or a protector. athough deep down, a part of you just wanted this little debate to finally wrap up so you could finally catch some much-needed sleep.

“i thought i took away all of her princess magic?” satoru frowns, "stop siding with the enemy!"

you can't help but snort at his comment. mostly because, for whatever reason, he’s taking this dispute very seriously. so seriously that he doesn't seem to notice you're trying to do anything to finally get to bedtime. "baby i was just sa—"

"who says this dragon had to breathe fire anyways?" he interrupts.

when your toddler goes to respond, it hits you. "what about fluffy fireball?" you mention. it's a perfect combination of the two. well, okay, maybe not a “perfect” combination, but it's good enough to finish this debate.

if you weren't so tired, you’d stop and ogle the way they ask "huh?" in sync.

you shrug, "well, why not? he is pretty fluffy and spits out fire. there can’t be a better name than that."

your daughter holds out the dragon, looks at it for a while, then brings it up to her ear.

she gives the impression that he’s nodding his head before hushedly saying, "got it." she then turns back to face you and yells confidently, "fluffy fireball agrees!”

"well, i don't agree," satoru huffs. "the name is way too long an—"

“satoru.”

“but—“

"satoru," you say more firmly, and his shoulders sink as he mumbles "okay" beneath his breath.

your daughter lets out a yawn, and your eyes are immediately drawn to her. you signal for satoru to come over to the bed, and he does, bending down to your level.

“is my girl sleepy?”

"um," she pauses and looks at her dragon. "just a little bit."

"i can tell," you say, gently rubbing her back. you sneak a quick glance at your husband, and he looks the other way because he knows it's way past her bedtime. you sit up next to her ear and murmur, "i think fluffy fireball is ready to go to sleepy-time."

she gives the dinosaur a look before asking him, "y’wanna sleep with me?” then, she shakes the dinosaur's head up and down before exclaiming, "okay!"

you watch as she leaps out of satoru’s arms, and plops down on the bed. the room fills with giggles and the creaking of the bed as she scampers towards the middle. once she's next to you, she settles in and gets comfortable.

you can't help but smile as you see her tiny hands reaching out, playfully fluffing the pillows around her. then finally, with a satisfied sigh, she snuggles under the covers, cocooning herself in warmth.

she sets her dragon on her left side, making sure her loyal companion is there to do his job and look after her (the princess). it’s cute really. however, if that dragon becomes even a little bit too comfortable with the job, you know satoru will undoubtedly compete for the position. he'd say, "it can't just show up one day and take my job," or something along those lines. knowing him, he might even contemplate throwing it away—who knows.

you’re jolted out of your trance when your daughter asserts to her dinosaur, "you can sleep on daddies side, he snores."

satoru gasps, “i do not—“

“yes you do!”

“when have i eve—“

"guys," you sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion in your voice. you cast a glance at both of them, making sure you have their undivided attention before pressing on. "c'mon, let's all take a breather and save the debate about your dad's snoring for tomorrow, okay?"

"but mommy, tell him he snores!" she whines. "he goes—" she cuts herself off to mimic satoru's snoring, and his face is priceless.

"now that’s just rude. how can you speak to me so coldly?” satoru scurries underneath the covers on the side of the dragon. and just like that, your daughter and her dragon are nestled between the two of you.

“this’ll be settled in a family meeting tomorrow. you two have already had one debate today. so right now? lets all go to bed.” you declare, then nestle deeper beneath the covers, closing your eyes.

as the voices of saddened "okays" and "alrights" blend together, a collective sigh fills the room. the sound of a click follows, and even with your eyes closed, the absence of light is unmistakable. it makes you feel even more exhausted than before.

you feel satoru’s arm slide around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. meanwhile, your daughter stirs slightly, searching for a more comfortable position in the cozy space between the two of you. you can feel her movements, her small body nestled snugly against yours.

you snuggle impossibly closer to your pillow, and take a deep breath.

silence, that’s what follows—and it’s nothing but peaceful. that is, until satoru bursts out laughing. "i don't snore," he blurts out into the darkness, his voice filled with mischief. "i just provide a little background music for the night."

it's at this point that you decide to be extremely biased at the family meeting tomorrow. he’s not winning a damn thing.

#(っˆ ³(ˊ ᵕ ˋก ) ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 ࿐ྂ #i think this is the cutest scenario i’ve came up with #and the best part is that it’s 100% cannon (bc i said so)#gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo headcanons #gojo scenarios #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen headcanons

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saerins · 4 months

Text

[ ೀ pucker up, buttercup | itoshi sae ]

ೀ content: female reader, fluff, sae and reader are adults, pet names (sae’s choice of words are stupid/idiot, calls reader ‘my girl’), alcohol, slightly suggestive at the end. | wc 1.5k | notes: okay did a very quick drabble for sae for christmas !! merry christmas to you guys <3

ೀ summary: being sae’s girlfriend is tough. there’s a lot of things he can’t make time for, and unfortunately this time, it’s you. but somehow, he always pulls through.

it’s christmas eve and you’re at your company function, looking at the fruits of your hard labour.

the event hall is decked with christmas decorations; stockings lining the walls and corresponding to different names for everyone’s secret santa to gift accordingly, christmas lights surrounding every table, everyone getting their fair share of the catering you’d arranged.

“this is amazing,” your boss gushes as she excitedly throws her arms around you. she’s only a few years older than you, so it’s not all too surprising that she’s always super friendly with you.

“relax on the alcohol, okay?” you joke with her, smelling the liquor already.

she pouts at you, batting her eyelashes. “oh c’mon, are you still upset that your boyfriend couldn’t make it for christmas?”

you sigh, though you keep a strong front, smiling through it. being the private girlfriend of an international soccer superstar is tough; he has to miss holidays and special occasions and more often than not you can’t even get your calls through because he’s just that busy. you’d been excited for this year’s christmas though, because he had said he’d be able to fly back home this time.

but as it turns out, his manager—who so happens to love overworking him—has other plans. so all of that excitement just went down the drain. still, what else can you say to him other than good luck with it? you knew being his girlfriend was going to be tough, but it’s starting to take a toll after feeling like you barely exist in his world.

still, you stare at the message he last sent you.

i love you.

and you go soft. soft, because you know he means it. soft, because despite everything, you believe in the man you fell in love with. the one who gave you your first kiss back in high school, the one who’s so awkward that even initiating to hold hands last time had his entire face beet red. the one who never fails to assure you that in spite of the distance, he’s always still thinking of you.

you fiddle with your necklace, the promise ring sae gave you when you were back in high school sitting around your neck like it always has.

in between all the long distance arguments and the time differences and the i miss you, wish you were here with me, you still find yourself hopelessly in love with itoshi sae. even when your friends say they can’t imagine being in your shoes, even when numerous tabloids love to put models or athletes as your competition, you know there’s still no one else you’d rather be with than him.

“i’m fine, really,” you assure your boss, prying her off of you and then adjusting her so her arm is around your shoulder as you lead her to her stocking. “here, why don’t you busy yourself and see what your secret santa got you?”

you really just want to distract your boss so she wouldn’t accidentally end up throwing you a pity party. all you want to do today is to make it through it, spend the first hour of christmas day rounding up the party and then get home and sleep your day away. it’ll distract you from the absence of your boyfriend anyway.

as you watch your boss happily open up whatever’s in her stocking, you wonder if your secret santa got you anything. (of course, some secret santas are dicks and end up not getting their person anything.) so count yourself lucky when you open up your stocking to find both a gift and a card.

amused, you rip the card out of its envelope, your heart skipping a beat when you see that inside of it, there’s a picture of you and sae as high school kids, beside each other, his face deadpan while you’re grinning from ear to ear, resting your head against his shoulder. the message reads: i love you so much it’s stupid.

you’re still in shock but you open up the little gift box, maroon with a green bow on it. when you see what’s inside, you can’t help but chuckle.

holding it above you, under the light, you can see the words hey, stupid engraved on the side of the fake mistletoe before feeling a warm pair of arms wrapping around your waist from behind, cold lips catching you off guard as they press themselves against yours.

it fills you up inside, takes all the weight off your shoulders. you’ll recognise him anywhere, without having to look or hear, the way his lips feel against yours, how he holds you gently against him, laughing softly against your lips as you pull him closer to you by the collar.

never in your wildest dreams did you expect to see your boyfriend in japan, let alone at your work party of all places, and now here you both are, kissing under the mistletoe.

“woah relax there,” he teases you, pulling away but still holding you close.

he’s here, he’s actually here. his hair’s in a mess, and there are circles under his eyes, but he’s smiling. he’s smiling at you and he’s here with you and you don’t even feel the tears forming in your eyes because you’re too busy relishing in the moment.

“itoshi sae,” you call out to him, your hands patting on his body, his black coat and his scarf are real and he’s here—he’s really here. “i thought you were too busy to come back…”

how long has it been now since you’d last seen him? a year? perhaps longer? he’s been so busy nowadays that you wondered at one point if he would even come back to you at all.

sae sighs, holding your cheeks in his hands as he presses his forehead against yours. “i’m sorry,” he says tensely, shaking his head slightly. “i was away for so long, and i just…” his teal eyes stare into yours, both your eyelashes dancing against one another. “i missed you, and i just wanted to see you.”

you’re laughing in disbelief, still holding him close because you’re just that afraid that this’ll all be an illusion that might soon slip away. “and they just let you off like that? that simple?”

he presses his lips into a firm line, averting his gaze. “let’s just say that they weren’t happy about it but i’m the important one, so…” he smiles, genuinely, putting an arm around. “they don’t have a choice but to let me come home to see my girl.”

turns out, he’d called in a favour to your boss, asked her about christmas plans because he knew from your texts that you were in charge of putting it all together. and then he asked her to put the gifts in your stocking. and you laugh hearing about it, because you’re thinking of how your life could’ve gone a totally different way. you could’ve gotten into a relationship with someone else who wouldn’t do this much for you, wouldn’t make time for you, wouldn’t travel across the world and put their own things down all in the name of meeting you.

“what’re you thinking about, stupid?”

you look into his eyes, shaking your head. “nothing, it’s nothing, i just- i love you, itoshi sae.” you smile, and sae smiles too because he loves how your smile reaches your eyes. and he loves being the reason you smile so he’s going to keep being that—and he makes a promise to himself to make you happy for life. but maybe that’s a gesture for next time. right now, he just wants to spend the rest of the holidays with you.

the clock strikes twelve, and he steals the mistletoe from you, holding it up between the two of you again, wincing from how cheesy it is after he does it, earning a chuckle from you.

“merry christmas, idiot.” and he kisses you again, long and slow and completely oblivious to everyone else that’s there who are staring and clapping—half of them still in awe that the itoshi sae is here and half of them in shock after putting two and two together that he’s your special guy.

“so, you’re gonna be here till new years’?” you ask in between kisses.

sae nods, “at least, why?”

you grin, pulling him by the belt as you lead him out of the event hall. “think it’s time we get home and just spend it between the two of us, yeah?”

sae laughs, letting you drag him along, wondering whether by this time next year, will he be lucky enough to call you his wife?

but when he sees that promise ring he gifted you still nestling snug around your neck, he has no doubt. you’re each other’s for life. and you’re worth every single risk he has to take.

#bllk x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #sae x you #sae fluff #sae x y/n #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae fluff #itoshi sae imagines #sae imagines #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #૪ aeri’s fics !

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sugarcoatedstarkey · 4 months

Text

Green Eyed

Pairings - Rafe Cameron x Reader (Jj x reader & Jb x reader)

Summary - You want Rafe to admit you’re his girl so you set out to make him Jealous.

Warnings - drinking, language, oral, sex, choking, scratching, name calling, slight manhandling. 18+

The party was in full swing, red cups lined the kitchen bench and the stench of tequila wafted through the vents. You sat upon the couch, pressed between Rafe and Topper. Both of them talking above your head while you watched your best friend flirt with her coworker, you loved people watching. Especially at parties where they really let loose and show you their hidden personality.

“It’s rude to stare '' Topper jokes, his arm resting behind your head casually. Ignoring the glares Rafe was throwing his way, this usually caused an argument between the two of them. Rafe would say ‘don’t touch my girl’ and Topper would throw the ‘she isn’t your girl until you make her your girl’, it would just spiral from there. Honestly it was kind of draining, Rafe always telling people you were his girl but never officially making you his girl.

“So Topper, do you think Rafe is jealous?” You're adding fuel to the fire, smirking up at Rafe who’s brows are scrunched together in annoyance. You could practically feel the anger radiating off his broad frame.

“Why yes y/n, I do think he is jealous” Topper chuckles, his fingers dropping to your shoulder giving you a small squeeze. Rafe scoffs angling his body to face the both of you, anger still riddled his features.

“Please… I am not jealous” he states, no hesitation to his words. Your heart drops, did he really mean that? Or was he fucking around?

“Oh really?” Your eyebrows raise at him, a challenge. You were down for a challenge, you’d show him. “You wouldn’t mind if I did this then”.

Your lips are on Toppers before Rafe can even respond, your tongue invading his mouth. Your hands cup his jaw as his own hands greedily pull you in by your lower waist.

You feel his body move from beside you and when you pull away he’s storming through the party, fists curled at his side in anger. “That worked”.

“Sorry, I should have asked if that was okay” you say, giving Topper a soft smile which he reciprocates. “That’s alright, I’m down to make Rafe jealous any day. Bro needs to be knocked down a peg or two” he jokes, watching his best friend throw back shot after shot. The both of you laugh at how quick he was to leave, your feeling rather cocky until he’s pulling the girl you have such a deep hate for to his lips.

The breath is knocked out of you at the sight, his hands are feeling all over her body. She’s fucking loving it, practically humping him like a goddamn dog. He’s pushing her against a wall and slipping his fingers under her dress, the anger is bubbling within you.

“He’s a dickhead” Topper says beside you, his hand runs up and down your arm in a comforting friendly sort of way. “Don’t worry, I’m going to win this thing” you state, pushing yourself off the chair and storming into the dance floor.

There was no one else Rafe hated more than JJ Maybank and you knew he would be around here somewhere, your tapping Kiara on the shoulder giving her a smile which she reciprocates surprisingly. “Do you know where JJ is?” You ask, you don’t like your odds with her. She was fiercely loyal to her friends and hated Kooks to the core. She was a hit and miss when it came to being her friend, something you’ve dealt with since you were kids. “Probably outside smoking a joint”.

She’s turning back to her friends before you can ask anything else, you look back over at Rafe one last time and set out on your hunt.

Back inside Rafe is pulling away from the girl in front of him, turning back to the seat you once occupied. Grinning to himself when he sees you're gone, pushing the girl's skanky hands away from him and stalks back over to Topper. “That was low bro” Topper tutts, shaking his head at Rafe who rolls his eyes in response. “Where did she go?”.

“Oh you don’t want to know” Topper grumbles, Clearly unhappy you were going to use a pogue instead of a Kook. He was all good with this little game but didn’t like the idea of the pogues. “Tell me”

“Your not going to like it bro”

“Just fucking tell me!” Rafe shouts, fisting his friend's shirt in anger. “Went to look for Maybank”.

Rafes face is pure red, the vein in his neck threatening to burst. He shouts a few curse words and drops Topper back on the couch, storming his way through the house.

You're kissing JJ Maybank, someone you never thought you’d kiss. He always jokingly said how much you wanted him and would say he’d rock your world, you’d be begging to be a pogue, you just didn’t expect to be dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Right here?” JJ stutters, aware that you were not at all in private. Anyone could step behind the shade cloth and see you on your knees with his cock in your mouth. “Don’t be scared” you purred, stroking his cock slowly emitting a low groan from his chest.

Your tongue swirls around his head, swallowing him deep into your throat. Your cheeks hollow around him, tongue gliding up and down his shaft. He’s a moaning mess, fingers curled into your messy hair. Leaning against the wall for support, he was not surprised with how good you took his cock. “I always knew your pretty mouth was good for something” he groaned, rolling your eyes at his words you pushed him to the back of your throat, spit trailed down your chin.

Rafe was about ready to beat the absolute shit out of JJ, eyes staring hard from across the garden. His anger was radiating off him, his body shook with rage. “Fuck” he screamed, causing the bodies in the garden you scatter from him. Not wanting to be caught in the crossfire of Rafe Cameron.

The moment you hear his voice, you move faster against JJ, it only takes a few more strokes of your tongue and you're pushing him away and angling his cock to his exposed stomach. He’s shooting his load all over himself, eyes hooded and breath labored. He watched you pull yourself to your feet, wiping your mouth with your thumb. “Thanks” you breath, spinning in the spot you walk away from him and towards where Rafe and Topper stood.

You should feel slightly afraid with the way he’s staring at you, his eyes are dark with anger and the veins in his arms are straining hard. “Like the show?” You smirk, patting him on the chest. His fingers grip your wrist tightly and worry floods your veins at the tightness, screwing your face up in pain. Topper's hand comes up to squeeze Rafe’s shoulders, reminding him where he is and who he’s touching.

He lets your wrist go instantly but doesn’t say a word, you expect him to cave and admit he is jealous and finally ask you to be his girl. Instead he is once against stomping away, you roll your eyes hard and turn to Topper.

“He’s so damn stubborn! What the fuck!” You exclaim, snatching the drink from Topper you skull the half warm beer and pass him back the empty bottle. “I need something stronger”.

A fair few shots later, you're dancing like an absolute mad woman with Topper and your best friend. Glancing around the room looking for Rafe, expecting him to be lent against the wall watching. “Where is Rafe?” You question Topped, he shrugs and goes back to dancing.

You step away from them in search for him, suddenly feeling nauseas that he’s fucking some one else up stairs.

Your opening doors and searching high and low for him, the last bathroom stares you in the face. You knock but no one says anything, gripping the door handle you open the door. Rafe’s eyes meet yours and evil smirk paints upon his face, your eyes drop to the floor where you're supposed friends kneels in front of him. His cock burried deep in her throat, tears of pleasure soaking her cheeks.

You're slamming the door shut and running away from the bathroom, tears are threatening to spill. Topper and your best friend are nowhere to be seen, searching the crowd for anyone to hide with.

“What’s wrong” John B is questioning, his arm comes around your shoulder pulling you in for a hug. It was no secret that you and John B got along, he was the only pogue who didn’t just look at you as a piece of shit or a piece of meat. “Rafe”.

That’s all you need to say, John B nods and pulls you up the stairs. You follow closely behind him, walking into a room unoccupied. Moving over to sit on the bed. “He’s just so infuriating, he won’t admit he’s jealous, he won’t ask me to be his girlfriend” you blurt, covering your face with the palms of your hands. “I am purposely going out of my way to make him jealous and he just one ups me, I just caught him getting a fucking blow job from Beck! She’s meant to be my friend!”

John B takes a seat next to you and pulls you into a hug, your fingers crunch up the material of his shirt in anger. Hiding your face in the crook of his neck, he lets you complain and mumble into his shirt for a few moments until he pulls you away.

He’s kissing you to stop your rambling, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. Moving your body to straddle him, his hands run up the length of your thighs. “Let's make him jealous and you’ll even get an orgasm out of it”

You're nodding your head and pressing your lips to his, grinding your hips into him. You can feel him growing beneath you, your wetness begins to soak the material of your panties. Your grabby hands bunch up his shirt until he’s throwing it over his head, your fingers dancing across his chest and abs.

Dipping your hands low to unbutton his shorts, you step off him and pull your dress over your head. Your breasts sat bare, John B’s eyes trained in on your hard nipples.

“Just to make Rafe Jealous” you state, he nods his head and you step towards him. He grabs you by the waist and pushes you down onto the bed.

Rafe is wild, running around the house and outside looking for you. Topper follows close behind him, they both search for you. “You took it too far bro, if you just told her you were jealous she wouldn’t have run off” he says, rolling his eyes at his best friend. Rafe comes to a stop and turns his body, running the palm of his hand down his face. “Shut the fuck up… I already know that! She’s mine okay and I’m going to show her that she’s mine!” He growls, storming back off again. He runs up the stairs, pulling open doors. He just about falls to his knees at the sight of you laying upon the bed, somebody’s head between your thighs. Your face screwed up in pleasure, explicit moans fall from your open lips. His hand shoots out to stop Topper from walking in and seeing you naked upon a bed, your head turns to the door in shock at the sound of Topper grunting.

You're coming around John B’s tongue at the sight of Rafe watching, his eyebrows creased and he steps into the room. “You’ve had your fun, now get out before I break your goddamn face AGAIN” he growls, his eyes don’t leave yours. He knows if he sees John B’s lips glisten with your arousal he will pummel him. He watches as you sit up slowly, waving your hand towards John B. “It’s okay” you say, giving him a look of ‘this is what I wanted’, he nods his head and pulls his shorts back on and stumbles out of the room.

You reach for your dress, but Rafe is quick to snatch it from you. “Give it back” you exclaim, reaching for the material. Your bare chest presses to his, you could feel the thud of his heart rattling against you. The heat from his anger radiated from his body, he dropped the dress and enclosed his fingers around your throat.

“You know I don’t like to share” he growls, he walks you back until the back of your knees press to the bed. Tightening his grip around your throat, watching your face flush red. You let out a choked cry scratching at his forearm, he lets go slightly and pushes you down on the bed. “You were jealous Rafe, just fucking admit it!” You shout, you dig your nails into his forearm causing him to pull away from your throat. “Fucking admit it Rafe! Fucking admit that you want me to be your girl! If you don’t, I’m done” you warn, you press your foot into his chest and push him away from you. He stumbles back into the wall giving you the opportunity to grab your dress and run around the side of the bed.

“Admit it… I’ll put this dress on and I’ll walk out that door. You’ll never see me naked again” your chest is heaving, anxiety bubbles in your stomach. You weren’t sure he would admit, he was stubborn and could be such an asshole when he wanted to be. You weren’t sure you could take it if he let you leave, you were in love with him.

You both stare at one another, you begin turning the dress inside out. Before you can slip your arms back into the holes he is once again ripping it out of your hands, grabbing your jaw instead.

“Your mine… I own you” he growls, smashing his lips to yours. A moment of weakness takes over and you kiss him back, reaching around his neck with both arms. “Wait Rafe no.. Rafe stop” you mumble pushing on his chest, he wasn’t going to get away with it again. “Fuck! Y/n, I love you okay! You're my girl.. your mine!”.

You forget how to breathe, staring at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t expected him to say he loved you. His thumb caresses your bottom lip, your breath fanning over him. “I love you to” you manage to squeak out, your lips are on each other again.

Your naked body pressing against his, his greedy fingers grab and pull at your skin. His fingers reach between you to cup your cunt, already dripping for him. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean I’m not going to punish you for letting fucking John B touch you!” He growls, biting down on your neck. You let out a squeal, legs opening just enough for his fingers to slip through and into your hole. “This pussy better be wet for me and not that fucking pogue” he states, his eyes have darkened with lust. His fingers roughly thrust deep into you, you let out a hiss when his thumb circles your throbbing clit. “Answer me”.

“It’s.. it’s wet for you Rafe!” You cry out, he drags his tongue down the length of your neck. Dropping just enough to enclose his mouth over your nipple, biting and sucking. You're trembling around him, nails digging deep into the skin of his shoulders. One of his hands holds your leg up, exposing your abused cunt to him.

“That’s it you dirty slut, fuck my hand. This is the only goddamn hand that’s going to be inside you until you die”

His fingers abruptly stop, pulling out of you sharply. The sound of your dripping cunt is heard over your gasp, your orgasm fizzles out leaving you high and dry. “Rafe! What the fuck!” You cry, he ignores you and begins taking his clothes off. His cock stands tall, he lets out a hiss when he fists the base. Pre cum drips down his hand, the tip is a deep red calling out to be sucked.

Your eyes meet again and he is quick to snatch you up, throwing you onto the bed like a rag doll. Moving your body so you were on all floors, ass up high and head down low. “I’m going to show you who fucking owns you and this sweet fucking pussy, do you understand me?”.

You're nodding your head furiously, your hair covering your face. A moment of sweetness he reaches down to gather your hair up and swipes it to the side exposing your face to him. That moment is quickly gone and he’s gripping your hips, he doesn’t give you a chance to steady yourself. Slamming his cock deep inside of you, no matter how many times you have fucked him he always stretches you out. Your cunt burns from the intrusion, his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. His own hips meet your ass roughly, his palm pushes against your back stopping you from looking back at him.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as he pounds into you, his cock hits so deep you think you can feel him in your guts. Your cries are muffled by the blanket, tears stream down your face as you chase your high once again. “Fuck your pussy never ceases to amaze me”.

His grip is tight and you're sure you’ll have bruises in the morning, he’s relentless, letting all his anger out on your pussy. “So fucking wet”.

His words just cause a waterfall between your legs, dripping all over his thick cock. “Fuck… Rafe! Fuck!”.

Your walls are sucking him deep, pulsating around him. “Please.. oh god please” you cry, you want to cum so bad it’s to the point of pain now. It’s stirring in your belly, toes curling and blacked out vision.

“Not yet”.

He’s pulling out of you again, clenching your pussy down on nothing. That orgasm so ready to explode fades away again, he grips your hair and pulls you from the bed. He manhandles you until you sit upon his lap, his cock teasing your lips. “Ride me”.

It’s an order, and an order you shall take. You're sliding down his cock, bouncing against him for dear life. “Fuck.. that’s it your dirty slut! Taking me like an angel but really you're the devil”.

He’s kissing upon your neck and chest, leaving behind dark red bruises. Marking you as Rafe Cameron’s girl. You did not care, you wanted everyone to know you were his girl. Your tits bounce, pussy swallowing him until you can’t tell where you start or he ends. Buried so deep within you, you feel full. “Such a Fucking perfect pussy hmm”.

“Yeah.. oh god Rafe! I can’t take it! Please please Rafe… please let me cum” you beg, gripping onto his shoulders as you bounce hard and fast. “Go on, cum on this cock. Show me how much you love me”.

You do as you're told, you chase that high. You chase it until blood drips down his shoulder blades, your body trembling above him. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ.. oh fuck! Oh my fuck—”.

You screams of pleasure can be heard from the first floor, your eyes squeezed shut, Rafe has to physically move you above him as you black out from the pleasure. His own release following, burying himself deep inside of you.

It takes you a few moments to come back to reality, your forehead pressed to his shoulder. Taking deep breaths to steady your heart rate, moving just enough to look him in the eye.

“You called me a slut” he’s quick to fall back into the usual Rafe he was when around you. “I didn’t mean it”.

“Good because if I’m a slut so are you… you let my friend suck your cock” raising your eyebrow up at him in amusement, he closes his eyes for a split second and looks back at you. “I think we are even”.

“Yeah alright, let’s call it even. So you do love me?”

“I do love you”

“Suppose I love you too”.

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kaiijo · 1 year

Text

TOLD YOU SO — ITOSHI SAE

pairing: itoshi sae x fem! reader content: reader wears a dress, a little possessive behavior on sae’s end, oliver aiku cameo notes: pretty eyes = pretty guys

You love Sae, you really do. Behind that apathetic, disinterested exterior lies a heart that beats in turn with yours. You love him, you really, really do, and you have to remind yourself of that as you ignore the side-eye he’s giving you that’s tinged with a certain smugness and screams, I told you so.

Okay, so it definitely was not the smartest move to forego a coat when you knew that this fundraiser was going to be on an outdoor rooftop bar in late fall. But none of your coats went with the dress you were wearing — a long, low-backed, satin number — which was the only thing you had that was formal enough for the event. Sae had looked you up and down when you two were getting ready in your apartment and said, “You’re going to be cold.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, “it’s not even that cold out.”

“You need to bring a coat.”

“I’m really fine, Sae. I run hot, remember?”

He glanced at your outfit again and said, “You’re going to be freezing.”

You shrugged and gave him a cheeky smile. “Then I’ll just wear your coat.”

He rolled his eyes. “No way, I’m not going to be cold because of your poor judgment.”

You hummed, “I think you will.”

“And I think you’ll be freezing.”

“Guess we’ll both have to wait and see whose right.”

You really hate when he’s absolutely and utterly correct in an argument, because at the moment, you’re trying your best to pretend that the goosebumps climbing your skin is not due to the chilly evening air. You refuse to meet Sae’s eyes, enviously peeking at his suit jacket.

You shiver as a breeze blows by and you huff to yourself, mumbling that you’re going to get a drink. Maybe indulging in the open bar will warm you up. You weave through the crowd and make it to the bar, sighing when you feel the warmth from one of the few heat lamps set up around the area. You swear that your boyfriend made the two of you purposely stand in a corner without one to prove a point.

You order a martini and sip it as you stand in the heat for a few more seconds, relishing in it. It’s not total protection from the cold but it definitely helps some.

You feel someone sidle up next to you and say, “You’re Sae’s girlfriend, right?”

You turn and face the owner of the voice, extending your free hand. “Yeah, that’s me. Oliver Aiku, right?”

“In the flesh,” he chuckles and he shakes your hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. We’ve been bugging Itoshi to introduce us since we saw you on his home screen.”

You smile involuntarily. That photo is from when you and Sae really started getting serious in your relationship, and he took you on a surprise trip to a little cottage in Mallorca. “Yeah, we’ve been trying to keep things pretty private.”

Oliver hums, “I get that, but it’s nice to finally meet the person who makes him actually crack a smile for once.”

You laugh at that and the two of you carry on a pleasant conversation. You finally get how so many people fall victim to Oliver’s charms, especially after so much press about his tendency towards womanizing; he’s easy to talk to, friendly, definitely charismatic, and undoubtedly easy on the eyes. At the end of the day, though, you wouldn’t trade your grumpy, green-eyed boyfriend for anyone in the world. Not when you get to see the softer edges of him when his walls crumble and he falls into your arms. You wouldn’t trade that for anything.

A particularly strong gust of wind makes you stiffen and set your glass down, wrapping your arms around yourself. Okay, you’ll finally admit it aloud: “It’s fucking freezing.”

Oliver raises an eyebrow and before you know it, he’s shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over your bare shoulders. “Better?”

You let out a sigh. “Much.”

“Aiku.” Sae’s voice sounds from behind you, tone sharp.

“Itoshi!” Oliver ignores the ice in your boyfriend’s tone as he motions to you. “Can’t believe you’ve been keeping this one from us! She’s certainly a charmer.”

Sae glares at him. “I know, she’s my girlfriend, which is why I don’t understand why she’s wearing your coat.”

“Oh, she said she was cold.”

Sae gives you a look, frowns, and he slides his jacket off his shoulders and holds it out to you. “Take this,” he says and you do, hiding your giddiness as you hand Oliver his jacket back. You sink into Sae’s suit jacket, letting the familiar scent of his cologne flood your senses.

Oliver pats your shoulder and says, “It was nice to meet you! Don’t be a stranger, ‘kay?” He disappears into the crowd and it’s your turn to give Sae a smug look.

“Don’t even,” he says.

You lean into him and he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Guess we were both right in the end.”

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock scenarios #.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kaiijo writes

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rottenaero · 11 months

Text

Ao3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 3 of the roommate idea

Steve declines the hellfire invitation from Dustin, making up a pretend date, because otherwise he was not getting out of that one. He checked the time on the wall.

2:27

Yeah, alright.

He waited a few hours before getting ready and heading to the school.

The game starts in thirty minutes so they should be-

Steve grinned as he watched the back of Dustin move into the drama room.

Perfect.

He waited a minute, listening into their conversation before deciding that he didn't need to wait for them to stop because if they stopped that meant they were starting.

He slammed open the clubs door, making a couple people in the room jump.

“Steve! What are you doing here?" Eddie asked from his place on the throne. "DnDs over, pack up your shit.” He stated, leaving no room for argument.

Well, apparently a little room.

“What!! Why?! Last campaign of the semester, Mike leaves for Cali tomorrow!"

Steve furrowed his brows, and put his hands on his hips, Gareth, Grant, and Jeff weren't arguing, they knew he was serious, good.

“It can wait till he gets back, why would you even plan this a day before he leaves?”

“Why do we need to pack our shit?!”

Steve pinched his nose, "We're going to Luca’s basketball game.”

“What?!?”

“That traitor-"

“Stevie, darling, you can't be-”

“Why?!”

“You two know each other-”

Steve grimaced, a migraine starting at the fore-front of his mind.

“Please shut up, Christ.”

Eddie winced and immediately shushed everyone.

“We're going to this game, because even if Lucas doesn't get to play, we still gotta support him. Dustin, Mike, you guys have only gone to one of his games, his first one.”

He turned the other group, "Grant, Gareth, Jeff, fuck Eddie. None of you have gone to a game, I know it's not your usual shit but you gotta come. Hell, Erica, you're his sister, I mean, you’ve done an amazing job at showing up at the rest, so I can’t really complain about you.”

Dustin winced, “ Sorry Steve, but why does this matter so much to you? It's not the end of the world.”

Steve rubbed his arm, “ He needs someone to be there for him, even if he doesn't win. You can just do the damn campaign at Eddie's when Mike comes back.”

Mike, in question, scoffs, “And since when do you make the rules.”

Steve ignores him, reaching forward and grabbing Eddie's arm, and Erica’s shoulder. "Suit yourselves, but kinda hard to play DnD without the Dungeon Master, and Eddie and Erica don't have a choice.”

They make their way to the gym, a reluctant group of Hellfire in tow, and sit across the top of the bleachers. Steve waves at Robin from where he sits and then turns to Hellfire. “ Thank you guys for being reasonable."

Gareth scrunches his nose, “You cannot just keep stealing Eddie randomly.” Steve purses his lips, and leans into the man in question.

"Not stealing if he's okay with it, right Eds?” Eddie looked between the two, “ I'm sensing I should say yes?"

Steve grinned and patted his cheek. “Good boy."

Dustin turned to them, "Was Eddie the date you were talking about earlier? You tell seem awfully friendly."

Eddie flushed, and let's out an awkward laugh. " Steve wishes he could date me."

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girlgenius1111 · 1 month

Text

face the consequences

ingrid x mapi x reader mapi talks you into being a brat. ingrid has no patience for it, and punishes you both. basically ingrid topping tf out of mapi and r.

smut. 18+

cw: light choking. dom sub dynamics. fingers. cunnilingus. strap on use. riding. biting? i guess? once? mentions of spanking, but no actual spanking.

-----

You knew you were in for when Ingrid didn’t even look at you as she all but pushed you into the backseat of the car, very unnecessarily buckling your seatbelt for you.

You knew earlier than that, really, when you’d let the random woman grind up against you on the dance floor, when her hands had drifted somewhere more than friendly, and Ingrid had gotten very sick of watching your little show.

It was Mapi’s fault, though, not that Ingrid would ever believe you. Mapi was her perfect girl, and you were… not. María had clearly been in a bratty mood, but was too much of a coward to act out herself, so she talked you into making your girlfriend jealous.

Ingrid hadn’t let it go on for very long before she was dragging you both out of the crowded club by your hands, mumbling about how she couldn’t just have one night out where you didn’t act like a slut. Your explanations that this had been Mapi’s idea had seemingly fallen on deaf ears, and eventually you gave up. You grew steadily more turned on as a tense silence filled the car. Mapi was rather pleased with herself, Ingrid was fuming, and you were frustrated, but more so excited. You wanted what was coming your way, you thought.

The Norwegian was possessive even when you hadn’t been draped all over another woman 20 minutes earlier. Now, though, she was downright pushy, pulling you out of the car and barely letting you go as she unlocked the front door and guided you into the house.

She had you fully in her arms, Mapi forgotten behind her, within a second, spinning you around and tilting your face up to look at her.

“Needy slut, hmm? Couldn’t wait for me to give you what you wanted? You had to get it from someone else?”

Wisely, you kept quiet, only blinking up at the brunette with a sheepish look on your face.

Ingrid regarded you for a moment, her fingers gently tucking your hair behind her ear. “How much did you have to drink?” She asked, face softening just slightly.

“Huh?” You replied, confused at the turn this conversation was taking.

“How much did you drink? You can’t be drunk if I’m going to do to you what I want to,”

You inhaled deeply. “2 drinks.”

That was apparently not good enough of an answer. “How do you feel?”

“Good, I’m good, Ingrid,”

“Hmm. I wouldn’t say you are good. You’ve been very bad tonight, darling.” She said condescendingly, and you forced yourself to keep your eyes on hers, even though the look she was giving you was rather intense. “You want to do this? You remember your safewords?”

“Yes,” you responded breathily, as her hand started to creep down from your lower back, gripping at your ass.

“Good. Go get on the bed. And take your clothes off.”

There was no room for conversation or argument, so even though you didn’t particularly feel like leaving your girlfriend’s sides, you moved quickly, heading into the bedroom, hearing a sharp gasp from behind you. You didn’t dare turn around to see what the cause of the sound was, focusing on the task Ingrid had set you, and only that.

Ingrid had Mapi pressed up against the wall, similarly to how she’d just had you, though Mapi wasn’t quite expecting it. She should have been, but the attention had been on you, and she hadn’t known Ingrid knew what’d she done.

“What happened to my good girl, hmm? I’m used to our princesa being a brat, but not you, mi amor. Never you. I’m disappointed.” Ingrid whispered, ghosting her lips across Mapi’s jaw.

Mapi whined, a pathetic sound she’d never admit to making. “I am your good girl, Ingrid,”

“Do not lie, María,” Ingrid hissed, wrapping her veiny hand around Mapi’s throat, applying very light pressure. “You told her how to act, and she listened, didn’t you?”

“Sí,” Mapi breathed, her brown eyes on Ingrid. The Norwegian hummed quietly, contemplating.

“Are you going to make it up to me?”

“Sí, claro que sí,”

“I know you will,” Ingrid cooed. “What do you think your punishment should be, baby?”

“I-I don’t know,” Mapi tried, blinking up at Ingrid with a slightly dazed look on her face, the domination the brunette was showing making her feel weak in the knees.

“Think, elskling. What would make you all needy? What would make your cunt drip for me?”

Mapi’s mouth was suddenly very dry, and she opened and closed her mouth a few times before answering. “Don’t let me touch her,” she suggested, hating herself for it as soon as the words left her mouth. She had no chance, though, not with Ingrid looking at her so intently.

“Muy bien,” Ingrid smiled. Per usual, the Spaniard felt her face flush at the sound of the Spanish phrase so heavily affected by her girlfriend’s thick Norwegian accent.

The look in Ingrid’s eyes was downright predatory, and Mapi felt a shiver run down her spine, knowing the Norwegian was not about to let either of you off the hook very easily.

Meanwhile, you were growing impatient. It had been a couple minutes, and you had done as Ingrid had instructed. You were kind of cold, though, and you ached for the feeling of either of your girls’ skin on yours. Perhaps more than that, though, you wanted something harsher, something rougher. You were pretty sure you knew how to get it too, so you let your hand trail down your stomach, settling over your hot core. It wouldn’t possibly feel as good as Ingrid or Mapi’s hands on you, but it would probably succeed in getting what you wanted. You weren’t quite understanding of Ingrid’s mood, though.

You kept your hand where it was, playing with your clit, as you saw your girls stumble back through the doorway, Mapi being backed into the room by Ingrid, the taller woman’s lips working insistently against the Spaniard’s. Ingrid’s eyes fluttered open very briefly, to make sure she wasn’t about to smash Mapi into the bed, widening when she saw what you were up to. Her lips broke away from your other girlfriend, but her hands remained all over Mapi, drifting under her shirt and playing with her chest.

“Stop.”

The look on Ingrid’s face, paired with the very simple command, had you freezing.

“You are not going to get what you want. I’ll touch you when I want, how I want. Hands off what is mine.” She warned, and you completely abandoned your plans, hands practically flying away from where it had been resting.

The brunette turned back to Mapi, who was looking at her with the familiar dreamy expression she got whenever Ingrid got bossy with you. Before she had time to react, Ingrid had her backed up against the wall again, this time falling to her knees before the older woman, and yanking down her pants and underwear impatiently.

“Fucking-Ingrid, jesus,” Mapi cried, when Ingrid’s mouth immediately attached itself to her.

“Shut up.” Ingrid warned.

Mapi’s hands scratched at the wall behind her, hovering over Ingrid’s head before she decided against it. She gripped the door jam in one hand, and clenched the other into a tight fist, her body already spasming under Ingrid’s precise tongue. Mapi was clearly unsteady, and Ingrid didn’t help matters when she gripped the other woman’s leg and threw it over her shoulder, giving the Norwegian a better angle.

It was torture, watching and not being able to do anything. You knew just what Mapi was feeling, too, the feeling of Ingrid’s tongue flicking over her clit, her fingers teasing over the Spaniard’s entrance before harshly pushing in and searching insistently for the spot deep inside. The spot that Ingrid knew would make Mapi fall apart in mere seconds. It was a point of pride for the Norwegian, how quickly she could make the both of you come, purely based on her own skill and how well she knew your bodies.

She knew Mapi very well, indeed, knew the minute the older woman began to tighten around her fingers, the minute her legs began to shake on either side of Ingrid’s head, that Mapi was close.

“Ingrid, Ingrid, Ingrid,” Mapi whined, her body jerking, trying very hard not to grind down too hard on her girlfriend’s face.

“Am I making you feel good, María?” Ingrid asked mockingly, pulling her face away as she spoke.

“Sí. Ay dios mío, sí por favor, más rápido amor.” Mapi cried out. Ingrid obliged, speeding her fingers up until they were sliding in and out rapidly of Mapi’s pulsing cunt, her entire hand covered in Mapi’s wetness.

“Are you close? Are you going to come all over my fingers?”

“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” Mapi begged. She was, in fact, dangerously close, all thoughts of her behavior and her punishment fucked right out of her head. She wasn’t cautious, the way that you would have been, not used to being punished by Ingrid. You saw what was coming from a mile away.

Just as Mapi was about to come, so close she could feel her orgasm beginning to ripple through her body, Ingrid withdrew her fingers and stood up, a very satisfied smirk on her face.

“No, Ingrid baby, no,” Mapi cried, her legs not quite strong enough at the moment to hold her up. She stumbled forward just slightly into Ingrid’s arms, and the laugh that echoed through the room was soft, not cruel, adoring and not teasing. The Norwegian held Mapi easily, whispering sweet reassurances in her ear, as she guided the woman over to the bed.

Mapi flopped back onto the bed, pouting up at Ingrid, until your face leaned over hers.

“Well.” You teased. “Ingrid’s perfect girl being punished? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Still, your hand cupped Mapi’s cheek, and you left a light kiss on her forehead. Mapi could only grumble incoherently in response. She was kind of embarrassed, honestly, at how easily Ingrid had gotten her to fall apart. You deserved a lot of credit, it seemed, for lasting so long through Ingrid’s teasing and punishments before you started begging. Mapi had barely lasted one ruined orgasm. Just as she was about to comment on this, she heard you let out a low, drawn out moan, and her eyes flew open.

Ingrid had you bent over the side of the bed, her fingers lightly teasing you. The red bite mark on your left ass cheek told Mapi exactly why you’d just made that sound, especially when Ingrid was still barely touching you.

A fact you were very aware of. Ingrid hadn’t wasted any time getting to work on Mapi, but she was taking her time with you. You knew why, and you weren’t sure about it. You’d been a massive brat, yes. And normally, this would warrant Ingrid’s favorite punishment to dish out, one which would leave your ass red for days. You just… weren’t feeling it today. When Ingrid punished you like that, all the attention would be on you. She’d work you up to it, focus on you, before making you take it. She hadn’t done that today, which was fine. You needed something different from her, though, and you knew you had to speak up, or she’d continue with what she was planning.

“Ingrid,” you said, voice slightly muffled by the duvet under you.

“Hmm?” She responded absentmindedly, her hand stroking easily over your ass.

“I don’t want that tonight?” You mumbled, more of a question than a statement.

Her hands left your body briefly, before she flipped you onto your back, and hovered over you, her face only inches from yours.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” You knew what her real question was. Were you drawing a line, or being a brat?

“Telling,” you whispered. Her lips met yours in a soft kiss, and you settled into the comfort and familiarity of it.

“Okay.” She said against your mouth, smiling at the glazed look in your eyes at a simple kiss. “I have something else in mind, then,”

“Okay.” You replied breathlessly, agreeing without a second thought. Her green eyes were blazing with excitement, and you knew whatever was coming, it would be a lot.

Her weight was off of you in an instant, moving quickly as she rifled through the drawer with all the toys, selecting the perfect one before also grabbing Mapi’s strap.

“You’re going to ride María. Now. You can get yourself ready while she straps up.”

And you did just that. Her permission flipped a switch in your brain and it was only seconds before you were spreading your legs open and burying your hand in between. You were dripping already, from watching, from Ingrid being so close to you, from hours of pent up energy in anticipation of tonight. You took two fingers easily, eyes falling shut as you focused on the task at hand, ignoring the movement on the bed behind you, and the words exchanged.

“She’s going to ride you, but you can’t touch her. Do you understand?”

“Ingrid,” Mapi whined.

Ingrid shook her head smiling to herself. “No, baby. You picked it. No complaining.”

You let out a pleasured sigh, and the Norwegian fixed her attention on you. “Enough. Come here.”

Regretfully, you withdrew your hand and moved, clambering on top of Mapi and settling yourself over her strap. She didn’t move an inch, her hands gripping tightly to the duvet, though her eyes roved up and down your body with a distinct hunger.

Ingrid retreated to her favorite place to watch the both of you from, the leather chair in the corner of the room. She settled there, sitting back relaxed, as if she was about to watch a movie, not watch her girlfriend get herself off on her other girlfriend.

You turned your attention back to Mapi under you. She was the reason you were in this predicament to begin with, and you decided to make this as difficult for her as possible, lining yourself up with the strap and sinking down onto it with an almost pornographic moan.

You threw your head back, allowed your fingers to pinch at your nipple, and began to rock up and down, slowly, and then faster, finding the perfect angle for the strap. It was a bit of a stretch, but one that you were more than willing to take. You let your audience know how good you were feeling, how good you were making yourself feel, a steady stream of curses and whimpers leaving your mouth.

“Good girl, putting on a show for us. You look so pretty riding María, don’t you? So pretty fucking her cock.” Ingrid said softly. You opened your eyes, glancing back to find her watching Mapi intently. You turned your attention to the woman under you, and withheld a grin.

“You’re making María go crazy, aren’t you?” Ingrid called.

You definitely were. For as good as Mapi felt inside of you, her strap the perfect shape and size to fill you just the way you needed, enough that when you clenched around it, you really felt it, Mapi looked like she was about to explode. Her face was red, her hands a stark white from how tightly she gripped blankets under her. Her whole body was tense, her ab muscles on full display as her eyes followed you up and down, up and down.

“Neither of you can come until I say so.”

At this, you both let out a frustrated huff. The strap Mapi was wearing had a vibrator attachment that Ingrid had obviously utilized. Every movement from you jolted it inside of the Spaniard, and combined with the friction of the actual strap on her clit, she was getting close.

She had nothing on you, though, as you tipped forward, forgetting about putting on a performance and making Mapi pay for making this punishment occur in the first place, too lost in the pleasure, lost in the sensation of your climbing orgasm. You were fighting it, trying to fight it, that much was obvious to Ingrid. You gripped Mapi’s abdomen under you, nails scratching at the skin, making the other woman squirm, but you were past noticing and past caring.

“Ingrid, I can’t-” you warned her.

“Yes you can. If I say you can, you can.”

Mapi was biting her lip now, her legs twitching under you. She so desperately wanted to fuck up into you, take over and give your shaking legs a rest. Get you under her, and rail you. But Ingrid said not to touch. And Mapi had already been bad tonight. She wasn’t planning on doing it again.

“Don’t slow down,” Ingrid warned, and you let out a rather undignified whimper.

“Please, baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, please just let me come,” You begged, pride forgotten as you tightened every muscle in your body, trying to fight it off.

That was, apparently, all that Ingrid was waiting for. “You can touch now, María. Fuck her.”

It was like Mapi had known all along the instructions she’d receive, because the words were barely out of ingrid’s mouth before she had you under her, her face buried in the crook of your neck, thighs working to fuck into you rapidly.

She grunted quietly with every thrust, gripping tightly to your body. You were blabbering nonsense at this point, your girlfriend’s names barely understandable as your back arched. Mapi hadn’t been as close as you, and she didn’t slow down when the first orgasm hit you.

No, she only sped up, until you were screaming her name, tightening around her strap as one orgasm turned into two, and Mapi could barely move inside of you. It didn't matter, because she’d gotten herself there, too, a guttural groan fighting its way out of her lips as her hips stuttered and thrust into you one last time, her body weight practically collapsing on top of you.

You weren’t sure you were on earth anymore, half sure you’d ascended into heaven. Words weren’t an option, and moving was barely an option as Mapi pulled herself out and rolled off your body, gasping for breath along with you as she stared dazedly at the ceiling.

Soft Ingrid was back, instantly, climbing onto the bed next to you and checking in, her soft fingers tracing a pattern over your cheek until you opened your eyes.

“Okay, my love?”

You could only nod, and Ingrid chuckled at the fucked out look on your face.

“María, niña bonita, estas bien?” She asked, looking over to the other woman.

“Good, good. Your turn.” She murmured, leaning up on her elbows, and directing a very enticing smile in Ingrid’s direction.

“No, mi amor, it’s alright.” The Norwegian tried to insist, but Mapi was unrelenting, removing the strap from herself, and getting everyone situated how she wanted.

Of course, Ingrid only allowed this because she wanted to. Mapi wouldn’t dare manhandle the other brunette if she wasn’t sure she’d be okay with it. No, Ingrid let herself settle back against your chest, with you propped up on some pillows. She rested her head on your shoulder, feeling your hands lazily tease at her chest.

Mapi settled between her legs, finding her absolutely soaked, and knew it wouldn’t take much. You were still on another planet, practically, listening to Ingrid’s soft moans and whimpers as Mapi worked her up.

Even when she was technically under her girlfriend, Ingrid wasn’t one to let up control, or let anyone forget who was in charge. Her hands came to rest over yours, directing your movements on her chest. She kept up a steady stream of instructions and praise, something that always made Mapi work harder.

“Fuck baby, there. Faster. I said faster María. Good, baby, your tongue feels so good,” Ingrid murmured, enjoying the feeling of your hands on her, of Mapi’s mouth on her, more than she could express.

Mapi had been right; it was only a few minutes before Ingrid’s thighs were clamping around the Spaniard’s head and she was crying out, fingers lacing into Mapi’s hair, before she relaxed completely, falling limp on top of you.

You kissed her cheek lightly a few times, feeling Mapi move up and lay practically on top of Ingrid, the Spaniard’s head resting on the Norwegian’s abdomen.

Because, at the end of the day, while you were at Ingrid’s mercy, she also relied on you more than anyone thought. Her sense of control in the bedroom made her feel inexplicably safe. The only thing that felt better was being pressed up against the both of you, completely content, completely satisfied. You never left each other unsatisfied, or unhappy, and all three of you were quite sure that you never would.

------

worked on this for three hours straight and im tired but i have no regrets

#woso x reader #woso imagine #ingrid engen x mapí leon #mapi leon x ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader

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inkskinned · 1 year

Text

oh you know it's all latestage capitalism but the thing is. how are you supposed to be a person inside of this. a person trying to be a better version of yourself.

oh, you started working young, which was kind of hard, but it's just the way stuff works sometimes. and it was 2008 and your family couldn't afford heat. but it's fine, you grow a spine and get used to the professional world and besides it was the suburbs we're talking about here, like, your life could have been actually hard, so what if your father lost his job and you can't afford to move or turn the lights back on. and once you start making money, it's good. you keep doing that. because now they're relying on you. so you have to do that.

oh you were in thousands of dollars of debt at 17 years old so that you could go to school, because you have to go to school if you want to get a "real" job. you even did it "right", you worked parttime and attended community college before you transferred to a public school. you were under so many merit scholarships.

which is fine. you pick yourself up and you say like, okay. i graduated college. i'm holding down a job. i'm doing the Adult Thing, which looks and acts like this, according to all the books i've read. you start with the shitty job and then you climb that corporate ladder.

but the shitty job doesn't cover rent and you stretch yourself too-thin so you get sick. good luck with that. the shitty job no longer pays for your meals. everyone asks why you don't just move, but there's nowhere to move to. and with what money are you going to be moving? and then the loans come back, because they were never going to forgive them, because you were 17 and trying to do the right thing, which was stupid. people are now saying you shouldn't have even gone to school.

which is fine. but because you have no other option, so you do the shitty job, and you apply every day for like 5 new ones, and despite the fact everyone says "there's no one who wants to work!" it's actually just that nobody is fucking hiring so you can either work for 13 dollars an hour in the shitty place you know (where at least you have a passingly friendly relationship with the manager) or you can start from scratch again with a different 13 dollars an hour without knowing how much abuse from the new job you'll be taking.

and if you quit you lose your insurance. if you quit you lose your housing. if you quit, you'll be another burnout kid. the lazy ones. these assholes, look at them!

and you come home to a family dinner and you hear from your father the same old thing. how he worked hard at his job and yes it sucked for a while but he was able to provide for the family and then the house and the dog and the rest of barbie's dream vacation. how the insurance did cover some of it. how you just really need to start speaking up more in manager conversations so they know you're a go-getter. you want to tell him - did you know we're actually doing more now hourly than any previous generation? - but you can't remember where you heard that statistic, and you're far too tired for the fucking argument. and then he starts in on his usual bit. where's the house? where's your kids? where's your ambition.

the same job the same money the same hours doesn't do it anymore. the same nose-to-the-grindstone now just shreds your face off. there's no such thing as upwards mobility, not really. and as far as you're aware, the money certainly is not trickling. you do the soulless stupid shit you signed up for because you fucking have to or else you literally risk your life (food, the apartment, the insurance), but it's not getting you anything. you download the stupid "save more" app and you budget and you do every right thing and then the price of eggs is 7 dollars and you say - oh great! another thing i have to fucking worry about now!

and you go to your stupid job and everyone in your father's generation just tells you to be better about being an adult. they have their homes and their savings account and their bailout and they say. well have you tried not drinking starbucks. well your generation just spends too much on clothing. well you might just be too addicted to travelling. and you - because you need the job - you bite your tongue and don't say i am being held prisoner and you're suggesting i stop pacing my cell if i don't like the scenery and you don't say what the fuck do you think i've been doing with my money and you don't say i haven't spent a cent on something nice in literally forever much less coffee you arrogant asshole. you open and close your bank app and check your loans and check your credit score and check fucking zillow and ziprecruiter and apartments.com just one time more. and still they give you that demeaning little grin and say - see, what you need is -

what you need is for your meds to stop being so fucking expensive. what you need is for the housing bubble to explode into dust. what you need is for billionaires to choke on their wealth. what you need is actual help. what you will get is more economic advice from people who are older-and-wiser.

and above you, almost in a glimmer, you can see the wedged smile of your debt getting toothier, wider.

#i hate when people try to tell me i didn't do it right #what should i have done better #i did it ALL the right way #(not that there is a right way)#it's just that others feel comfortable believing that THEY did it the right way and that's how they made money #whereas i must have just committed a sin somewhere in there! i MUST be doing it wrong!!!#and i'm not a victim!!! im simply experiencing consequences!#and im like. where . where. wherewherewherewhere #i graduated top of my class. i was almost the student speaker.#i have always excelled at work and i work hard #i have been working since i was 13 #WHERE !!!!! IS MY FUCKING !!!! MONEY!!!!!!#ps please do not make the assumption i am ablebodied or neurotypical.#i am neither of these things.#it DOES get worse if u are either of those things. so fuckin much #but @ the one anon who was like ''u could be X that would be worse u don't know how lucky u are''#.... don't i?#do i need to be luckier than someone else #or is it possible we are BOTH victims?#and that we need to work TOGETHER to resolve it #not just wave it off since it COULD be harder for someone else... it can be true we BOTH deserve better

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homunculus-argument · 2 months

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Random writing thing: you can easily characterise a character who isn't very bright/self-aware by having them assume that the way people act around them is just how everyone acts with everyone.

Someone who's very sweet, pretty, and tragically got-nothing-behind-the-eyes, who's charming and friendly and sees nothing odd about casually unpromptedly calling someone pretty. Or gently asking "are you sure you can handle that on your own?" and offering to come help whenever someone is about to go do something alone. Because that's what everyone does to them, so obviously it's just what people do.

Or someone who's certain that most of humanity consists of sobby whiners who start sulking and whining about not getting what they wanted as soon as someone steps on their toes and takes their stuff, and then randomly burst into tears for no reason. People do that a lot, all the time. This same person will lament how everyone is being so stubborn and unreasonable by demanding to have things done differently than how he wants it, and the fact that everyone is ganging up on him and this argument has been going on for five hours just proves how unreasonable everyone else is being.

Or a person whose main tactic of arguing is always starting their turn with "are you fucking stupid?", halfway through starts repeating "no, you are the one who doesn't understand my point", and who ends all arguments with "I'm not even going to waste my time anymore, you are literally too stupid to argue with" and walking off. Because in their experience, that is just what people always say when they're done arguing.

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01zfan · 2 months

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trigger finger | j. sc

boyfriend!sungchan x fem. reader | 4.5k words

a request and i kinda just rolled with it lol.

contains: emotionally regulated sungchan gets his buttons pushed by his rude girlfriend, rough sex ???, unprotected sex, semi public

sungchan was patient. he was kind. he never raised his voice at anyone or lashed out. it took him awhile to become this way, so even keeled and calm. a majority of his late teens and early twenties was dedicated to taming his turbulent emotions and occasional outbursts. after years of learning to regulate all of his feelings he had become a person who could approach any situation with a balanced mind.

he had channeled ebullient emotions into sports and working out. he figured if he could control his body to score a goal or hit a new max weight that same control could be transferred to his mind. because sungchan followed this mentality, by the time he had turned twenty his body and temperament had completely changed. he got compliments now not only about his height but his build too, people who knew him in his teens exclaiming how “different” he was compared to back then. sungchan learned by the time he was twenty one that they were trying to subtly mention how well adjusted he had become. sungchan was no longer the stubborn kid that would defy teachers and roll his eyes at his parents. he was a gentleman—one that held doors open even if ten people had to come through, one that removed his hat indoors and always volunteered to get the short end of the stick. he ate the figurative shit the world threw at him with a smile on his face; he took it as penance for the little demon he was growing up.

sungchan believes that’s what drew you to him. sungchan was twenty two now, so used to the being pleasant it became an intrinsic part of who he was. it was an automatic reaction for sungchan to meet your teasing words with a smile, a smile you found yourself falling for easily. if you were fire sungchan was water, if you were the pull he was the push, and the give to your take.

you found out quickly that sungchan was a good boyfriend and an even a better person. it came out in every aspect of the relationship. he was unfazed by your guy friends that seemed nervous around him. he was friendly to almost every girl, letting them down easy anytime they tried to make an advance. he never responded to you when you tried to pick an argument or instigate a screaming match. sungchan would always grab your hands in his and urge you to sit down and “talk it out with him”. he was the type of person you needed in your life but it irked you to no end how pacific he was. you wanted to believe it was a facade, that sungchan felt negative emotions as strongly as you did. you were grateful to date someone who didn’t have a short fuse, but you started to find it alarming that he seemingly had no fuse at all.

even in the four walls of your bedroom underneath the safety of the sheets sungchan was never anything less than sweet. he was a fast learner after you showed him how to treat you in bed and what you liked, but beyond that there was nothing. sungchan never bossed you around, never dared to put a pushy hand on your head. he never continued after you came once, and absolutely refused to act on his own selfish needs. everything was about you and you hated how much you hated it. you often recalled you being in the heat of the moment and telling sungchan breathlessly that he could do whatever he wanted to you. the only thing that came from your confession was sungchan finishing inside of you, a kink he told you about sheepishly after the fact. it was everything you wanted but so short lived. it was the only time you saw sungchan be even remotely self-serving. you found yourself rewinding the way he moaned “fucking take it” into your ear as you clenched around him before his hips stilled inside of you. your whiny sounds of approval and surprise didn’t influence sungchan to continue being dominant in bed, in fact it took him almost two days afterwards to initiate sex with you. and with a boyfriend like sungchan, two days felt like a century.

the next time you two had sex it was the normally scheduled program, sungchan finishing in a condom while he kissed your forehead. you sat next to him leaned up against the headboard as he rubbed out your unexercised muscles. you looked down at your sweet boyfriend with his doe eyes and secretly made it your mission to bring out the other side of him.

that’s why you were at this party, dancing on a dining table surrounded by men you didn’t know. you always had fun at the gatherings that evolve to parties, feeling safe to be unhinged knowing your doting boyfriend with water in his red solo cup was watching you from across the room. this was unlike you though. you weren’t the type to be on the tables or start borderline flirting with random men. but you felt your unofficial bodyguards’ eyes on you after you evaded his very obvious hints that it was time to go home. the fleeting looks you spared towards sungchan egged you on, and you could see his look become more and more agitated throughout the night. when you snuck away from him while he was distracted by a friend you knew that if he saw you in your current state he would have to snap.

sungchan didn’t like parties too much, so he would stick to the walls and casual conversations with the people he knew that would be there. his main job every party he went to was to keep an eye on you, letting you have your fun while he kept you safe. you and sungchan had a unspoken rule though, that he would stay at the party and let you enjoy yourself only for as long as he allowed. he would come up to you when the party was winding down or if you looked bored and say something along the lines of “don’t you have an early morning tomorrow?”, “it’s getting kind of late”, or “do you want to go eat?” when sungchan said those words he knew that you knew it was time to go. so it was beyond sungchan why he had exhausted all those phrases and you were both still here.

he had already had a long day at work when you told him there was a gathering you were going to and you wanted him to come along. he had no idea how defiant you would be at this gathering, or how the gathering was actually a party. sungchan felt his body tense up the more he thought about the day he had and the night you were subjecting him to. he saw you get too close with some men while they chatted you and your girl friend up, saw you grab another mans arm and squeeze before casting a glance to him. sungchan had to take deep breaths to keep him from crushing the life out of the cup in his hand.

he almost got you to leave when you gravitated towards the makeshift bar in the kitchen. he saw you mindlessly fiddling with the empty bottles of dark liquor, almost like you were waiting for him to approach you. before sungchan could put on his most stern voice and tell you it was time to go, his friend shotaro distracted him.

“sungchan!” shotaro exclaimed.

sungchan turned away from you only for a moment to greet his friend. they saw eachother at work not even three hours earlier, sungchan noticed that shotaro had simply thrown on a leather jacket over his work uniform.

“what are you doing at this party?” shotaro asked.

sungchan had to lean in to yell into shotaro’s ear over the music, the dimly lit room made sungchan think he was yelling into his friends hair.

“i’m here with my girlfriend. we are about to leave though.” sungchan said.

calling you his girlfriend was the most possessive he ever let himself get. he liked the way the phrase rolled off his tongue, or the look of acknowledgment on people’s faces when he said it paired with him putting a hand on your hip. when sungchan turned around to touch you, he saw that you were no longer there.

he quickly peered over the crowd, using the height advantage he had on a majority of the partygoers to find your face. it turns out he was looking too low, not noticing you until shotaro let out a sound of surprise.

“isn’t that your girl on the table?” shotaro said.

shotaro pointed the same hand that was holding the beer towards your dancing body. sungchan was speechless as he saw you swaying and turning on top of the table, giving the men that were circling you earlier like a shark a show. when your eyes locked with his and your movements didn’t cease sungchan instantly felt adrenaline course through his veins.

he left shotaro without saying goodbye, walking through the sea of people straight for you. you kept your eyes locked on sungchan the whole time, a sly smile coming across your features as he stood in front of you.

you looked down at sungchan as he stared up at you. you could tell that he was trying to actively calm himself down, trying to repress the sungchan that you wanted let out.

“we’re leaving.” he said sternly.

this was the most authoritative you had ever heard him. people around him moved their bodies to the music, bumping into sungchan. you could tell that he was mad because his body didn’t budge to the people colliding with him. you continue to smile as sungchan reached out a chivalrous hand to guide you down from the table—one that you ignored while you continue to dance.

“i’m finally taller than you.” you joke.

this was the breaking point for sungchan. you can see your boyfriend’s body physically tense and his eyes widen. for a split second you smiled, seeing sungchan’s unbounded emotion. this only lasted for a second before your smile was replaced with a surprised gasp as sungchan used the same hand to wrap around your waist and bring you to the edge of the table.

he put your body over his shoulder with ease, a single arm locking your legs in place. you could feel the plush of your thighs squish together as you kick your feet in surprise and prop your hands on his lower back to try and keep yourself upright. some people laughed and others cheered for you, but most of them go back to dancing as if nothing happened. you can feel sungchan place a hand on your lower part of your dress, pulling down the fabric so it covered the swell of your ass.

sungchan is silent as he walks you through the house. it’s almost humiliating, being paraded around a crowded house party for everyone to see. in a weird twisted way you like it, indirectly showing off your boyfriends strength and your ability to push his buttons. you don’t know if sungchan knew how possessive he seems in this moment, showing everyone at the party that you’re his. it had been a whole night in the making, you have never worked so hard in your life. you hope it’s all paid off when sungchan carries you upstairs, using his long legs to clear two steps at a time.

once you’re in a quieter part of the house, walking down the corridor of closed doors you try to be as fake bossy as possible.

“put me down!” you grumble.

you’re putting on a show now, your own facade of the irritated girlfriend. you lightly hit sungchan’s back as he checks each door in the hallway, seeing which knob will turn. he moves his body around, not taking into account your upper body whips back and forth from the momentum.

“sungchan i’m serious.” you say.

still no response. you pray that a door will open up soon as you continue to whine in his grasp. you pray he can’t hear the smile in your voice as you struggle a little bit more in his hold.

“i wanna go back and dance.” you whine.

you hear the slap before you feel it on your skin. it hits you suddenly, like a lightning strike. it’s at the speed of light, sungchan’s large hand smacking where your thigh turns into your ass. it’s such a hard slap that it sounds all the way down the corridor and has you jolting forward in his hold. the pain flashing takes you by surprise, making you yell out loud.

“be quiet.” sungchan says.

his tone is even but assertive, and for the first time in your life you feel like you have bitten off more than you can chew. you obey him immediately, holding back all the other taunts you had floating around in your head. somehow hearing sungchan have an even tone in this situation is scarier than him raising his voice. the smack still stings on your skin as a doorknob finally turns for sungchan, revealing an empty room.

sungchan makes it to the bed in just two strides and wastes no time launching your body to the center. you are jostled and caught off guard as your ass lands first, momentum forcing you to land on your elbows for support.

you’re forced to look up at sungchan as he stands next to the bed. you are in a risqué position to say the least, your dress had ridden up well past your thighs to sit bunched up at your stomach. your knees closed together are the other thing hiding your core from sungchan’s piercing glare. you didn’t think your boyfriend was capable of looking at someone so intensely, his eyes felt like they were burning holes into your skin. when you were in this position with sungchan, it was usually you beckoning sungchan towards you with a finger while you slowly spread your legs. but now you looked up to him waiting for his next move or next order, his previous command and the thrill that followed still ringing in your ears and on the back of your thighs.

sungchan turns his back to you to go to the door, you follow him carefully. you watch him slowly close the door and hear the familiar sound of a lock clicking. while sungchan’s back is turned you quickly straighten your dress and quickly pat down your mussed hair, trying to seem as appealing as possible.

when sungchan comes back to his previous spot next to the bed you try to figure out what this new sungchan is going to do. you open your mouth and sungchan puts a finger up. you bite your lip to stop yourself instantly. his hands go to his hips and he starts breathing heavy even breaths. the anticipation makes you want to squirm. you have to use your last ounce of self control to keep yourself still.

“what do you want from me?” sungchan asks.

the question catches you off guard. your hand that was playfully tracing shapes over your dress stills.

“what do you mean—” you start.

“do you want me to be mean? yell at you because you flirt with some guys?” sungchan asks.

you think that you’re about to get lectured before you see sungchan take off his jacket. when he throws it to the floor you watch him carefully, not sure what’s going to happen next. when his hands slowly reach for the buttons on his pants you can’t help smiling from excitement, hands going to the bottom of your dress.

“i’m better than that.” sungchan says matter-of-factly.

you shimmy out of your dress, getting it halfway off before sungchan helps you the rest of the way. he throws the garment to the side carelessly before roughly pushing you down on the bed. you are nothing against his strength, your body hitting the mattress with a dull thud. sungchan crawls on the bed to rest on the back of his legs in front of you, his bottom half completely bare. your eyes are locked in on his dick as it twitches in the cold air of the room.

“if you want it like that so bad i can give it to you like that.” sungchan says.

you look your boyfriend in the eyes and nod your head, lifting your hips so he can roughly slide your underwear down your legs.

sungchan has a hand on your knees before pushing it the opposite way, telling you to put yourself on view for him. you oblige, spreading your legs as far as they will go.

“what was the food we shared on our first date?” sungchan asks.

you try to think of the answer as you see a large glob of spit leave sungchan’s mouth to drop on his dick. you see him pump his length a few times before looking at you, raising his eyebrows to indicate impatience.

“uhm. popcorn?” you guess.

it was hard to think anything in this position, but you know you got the answer right when sungchan nods his head and moves forward on his knees to slot himself between your legs.

“say that if it gets to be too much.” sungchan says.

before you can say okay, sungchan fully pushes his length inside of you. the anticipation coats your walls, that aided with sungchan’s lubricant helps him slide in easily. your pussy clenches around him, sungchan is already hissing at how your practically sucking him in.

sungchan puts both hands on the back of your thighs and pushes them to your chest, loving the way you whine underneath the stretch.

“you just wanna get fucked so bad.” sungchan exasperates.

he’s captivated by the way you dumbly nod your head, so desperate to be mocked. it almost makes sungchan want to withhold the side of him that wants to fuck you into the sheets. maybe he should be gentle with you and edge you until you’re crying in missionary. but sungchan thinks he’ll let out the possessive, jealous, and mean side of him he’s spent all this time taming. he presses your thighs even closer before leaning his head over yours. his bangs graze your forehead as he looks you dead in your hooded eyes.

“you just want me to fuck you the way you deserve?” sungchan asks.

you would say yes but sungchan moves his fingers into your mouth. his digits press down so heavily on your tongue it comes out gargled, spit dribbling down your chin as he continues to thrust into you.

“i get jealous baby i just hide it well.” sungchan says.

your eyes get wide as you realize sungchan found out about your little mission. he smiles at your expression, fingers pressing down with a force that almost makes you gag.

“everyone wants a piece of you. drives me fucking crazy.” he says.

you moan in response, you don’t know how sungchan is able to keep his voice and words even while dragging his dick along your walls. his demeanor makes you clench around him without meaning to.

“wanna keep you...” sungchan has to look up at the ceiling to stop himself from moaning. “locked in a box sometimes. i’m crazy right?” sungchan asks rhetorically.

you wish you had known about this sungchan long ago. you would’ve done this way sooner if you had known this is what he was hiding from you. you work around sungchan’s fingers in your mouth to try and beg him to go faster.

“faster? i like going slow though.” sungchan fake pouts. he purposely slows his hips even more, dragging his tip along your folds before pushing back in. “because i know you hate it.” he smirks.

sungchan sits up a little to be perpendicular to your body, putting your calfs on his shoulders. the same arm that locked your thighs in place on his back straighten your legs, making you moan from another stretch. sungchan fucks you in this new position, moving his head to bit and suck on your ankles.

he thrusts into you with such a force that it makes your tits gyrate. sungchan is locked in on them, using his large hand to cup your breast. he roughly pinches your nipple, rolling the bud between his index finger and thumb. the extra stimulation and the pain has tears prickling your vision and has your skin prickling with electricity.

“already?” sungchan asks.

he can tell by the way your eyebrows furrow and legs spread that you’re close.

“just from this?” sungchan asks again.

his pace doesn’t change, keeping his tempo as he sees your face contort in pleasure. sungchan smiles and moves his hand that was kneading your chest down to your clit.

“you’re too fucking impatient, didn’t even know you liked it slow.”

“me neither.” you say.

your attempt at trying to sound as calm as sungchan fails miserably, you sound meek and whiny as you try to even your tone. sungchan laughs at your feeble attempt, hand that locks your thigh in place going to your cheek quickly to pinch the fat.

“you have no control.” sungchan says. his hand speeds up the revolutions on your clit. ”just let it out baby.”

that’s all you need to hear as you spasm around sungchan’s dick. you slick makes gives his thrusts new lubrication, helping him throughly fuck you through your orgasm. sungchan coos in response to your whines and says your name back to you when his falls from your lips.

you had come down from your high a long time ago, being driven to insanity solely off of sungchan teasing you. you start to squirm against him, trying to push your hips forward to suppress the stimulation. you see sungchan smirk before he flips you over, your face pressing into the sweaty indent of the mattress.

sungchan uses a hand to push your stomach flat to the bed and spread your cheeks simultaneously. the sudden change in position has you going crazy. you swear you can feel sungchan in your stomach as he presses his sweaty chest to your back. he sucks and bites on the skin of your neck, not pulling away until you cry out from the feeling.

“not done yet.” sungchan whispers against the shell of your ear.

he traces the outline of your ear before taking your earlobe into his mouth. you have never felt all of these sensations at once. usually it was one or the other, sungchan was careful with how much he gave you in bed. if he had you in the prone bone position he was careful to not give you his full length, if he was inside you he usually only paired it with kisses on the lips, and he had never took the risk to overstimulate you. but now sungchan pounded into you mercilessly, leaving bruises on your neck and ass due to the way he was holding you. your subsiding orgasm was building back over your body and it left you like putty, your ass turning to jelly as sungchan fucked you in a faster pace.

“you like this don’t you?” sungchan teased. “when i just use you?”

sungchan’s fingers were no longer in your mouth but still spit dribbled from your mouth and words were caught in your throat. whatever you said was intelligible, a string of broken words and moans that couldn’t be deciphered. sungchan still cooed anyway like you understood you, placing a sweet kiss to your cheeks as he lifted his body up.

“now you have nothing to say?” sungchan asks.

sungchan’s speed picked up when he raised his body, and his hand went to rest beside your head. you brought your hand to clasp around his wrist, nails digging into his skin as you felt him go a little deeper inside of you. having something to sink your nails into let you gain your bearings enough to speak in between his thrusts.

“i’m gonna—” you mumbled.

“this pussy is mine right?” sungchan said.

he still had that venom laced in his voice, but it came out airy. he was close, maybe even closer than you were.

“all yours.” you cried out.

your walls spasmed around sungchan’s dick as he pressed down into your again, spreading your folds with a single hand to reach deeper than he did before. sungchan finished while buried deep inside of you, a stop he knew no other man would ever be able to reach. you made sounds he had never heard from you before, your usually controlled moans turning into high pitched whimpers and begs. sungchan gave you what you were begging for when he pulled out just a little to push right back in, feeling a little bit of his cum seep out of you.

your high pitched moans drowned down to you repeating his name over and over again in a quiet voice. sungchan kissed you cheek and pulled out, standing up from the bed to take in the sight of you all fucked out and pliant on the mattress. he could see some of his cum leak out of you, a pool of drool making the sheets around your mouth dark. sungchan wishes he could take a picture to show the next man that ever looked in your direction, or show you the next time you got mouthy. he settles for turning you to your back and kissing your lips.

you are still so fucked out your actions are delayed, behind the rhythm of sungchan’s lips by a beat. the only thing that brings you out of your trance is the feeling of sungchan’s fingers pushing his cum back into your slit, the extra lubrication making a lewd squelching sound. you can feel hot tears come down your face and sungchan kisses them away, retreating his fingers when a majority of it is back inside of you.

“i’ll be right back baby. don’t move.” sungchan whispers.

even if you wanted to move you doubt you could, your body shakes and your muscles ache at even the thought of lifting a finger.

sungchan comes back to the room just as fast as he leaves, holding a warm wet rag and a dry one. sungchan cleans you up and pats off your sweat, helping you back into your clothes and pulling you up from the bed. it all happens in a haze, paying attention to sungchan’s words of praise that comes out in droves. before you know it you are standing on shaky legs. sungchan looks at your state and laughs at you, poking your sides. you swat his hand before giving him your meanest look, one that definitely has much less bite after the events that just transpired. sungchan still puts his hands up in defense before kissing your forehead.

“there’s my girl.”

#requestz #01zfan: sungchan #sungchan smut #riize smut

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