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#poor baby is too big for a tiny apartment
alevolpe · 1 year
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Had to design a blueprint for what I think Mako's apartment would be and this is what I came up with.
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Sorry it's not super clear, I only really drew it for me to understand, but hey, someone else might find it interesting.
Or maybe just me.
I like this niche sm stuff.
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sttoru · 5 months
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your lover would do anything to have your attention on him and nothing or no one else. even if that meant competing with a stuffed toy.
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, teeny tiny bit suggestive. implied age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). just satoru being a manchild honestly. reader gets called ‘pretty, princess, baby.’ little dumb drabble that is not beta read.
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you were cuddling up to your plushie under a pile of blankets, protecting yourself from the almost freezing temperatures outside of your apartment. the television is playing your favorite show, your food is set on the coffee table and your lovely boyfriend is. . . taking pictures of you.
“come on — look at the camera, pretty girl!” satoru coos. he was blocking your view of the screen, indirectly forcing you to follow his instructions. the older man visibly melts the moment you actually do gaze up at him; his eyes soften and his smile brightens, “there y’go. so adorable.”
he snaps a couple pictures from different angles and even one from up close. his big hand cups both of your cheeks, squeezing them together and forcing your mouth into a deformed ‘o’ shape. the way you look up at him through your eyelashes was the cherry on top.
“have i ever told you how beautiful you are, princess?” satoru sighs as he takes one last picture. he puts his phone down and settles next to you on the couch.
you chuckle and instantly rest your head on his shoulder. he sneaks a hand under the blankets and rests it on the exposed skin of your hip, causing you to shiver from the contrast between your body temperatures, “you remind me of it every day.”
satoru huffs—a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. he’s holding back the urges to nibble on your cheek. you’re just so adorable to him; it’s hard to control the cute aggression he experiences whenever you’re around him.
“yeah, well, as i should.” your clingy boyfriend says matter-of-factly. you roll your eyes and scoot over to the other side of the couch, moving away from satoru in fear of him possibly stealing your blankets. he was known as the ‘blanket hogger’ in your relationship after all.
satoru frowns in response and childishly puts his hands on his hips, looking at you like you had just betrayed his trust. you stick your tongue out and continue watching your favorite show—snuggled up to the fluffy blankets and stuffed toy instead of your man.
“can’t believe i got replaced by some blankets and a dumb plushie.” satoru whines. he sighs dramatically and slumps back against the couch, crossing his arms. a pillow flies over to his side and hits him right on the head.
“it’s not dumb. that’s mean.” you glare at him with an offended expression, though were also proud of your excellent aim. you hug your hello kitty plushie to your chest and turn your body the other way. now it was your time to sulk.
little did you know that you’d still be no match to your sassy lover.
the older man falls to the side, continuing his theatrics and clutching his head, “and on top of all that, i’m portrayed as the bad guy. . . haaaah, all i wanted was to be close to my pretty girlfriend.”
that gains him another cushion to the head. satoru grunts and huffs before planning a counterattack. one that was much more direct, yet softer than your pillow attacks.
not a second passes by and your body is already getting robbed from the blankets. “hey, wait,” you click your tongue, though were physically too weak to do anything about satoru’s actions. his body crushes yours underneath him — your poor plushie squeezed between you and your lover.
his hands move quickly to wrap the covers around the both of you. satoru grins to himself as he snuggles up to you, making himself comfortable in your embrace. his face is buried against your chest and his voice is muffled as he speaks up, “oh, c’mooon. can ya blame a man for wanting to cuddle with his girl? exactly - no.”
. . . he didn’t even give you the chance to answer his question. you playfully smack the back of his head and satoru giggles. sometimes it really feels like you’re the older one in the relationship.
“fine, but she’s staying.” you give in eventually, though were demanding for your plushie to stay with you. not that satoru cared about that thing any longer: as long as he has you in his arms, he doesn’t give a damn about anything else.
the white-haired man answers with a simple hum. he even adjusts the stuffed toy so it could rest between both your bodies, patting its head with care before doing the same to you. his large hand settles on top of your head and he moves it back and forth—a gesture of affection he likes to do often.
“mm — say, baby. .” satoru yawns and rests his head back on your chest afterwards. he closes his eyes while he presses soft kisses to the swell of your breasts, “cuddling with me is way better than cuddling with your plushies, right? riiiight?”
there he goes again. you can’t help but snicker however. you grin devilishly and take time to think of a way to tease your lover, “hmmm—no, i think i’d much rather cuddle with my plushies.”
you hear that dramatic gasp and mentally prepare yourself to deal with an even whinier and clingier satoru.
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ashwhowrites · 1 year
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can i request a little bit of angst?
eddie is in his late twenties, finally got his shit together, a baby on the way with reader! and eddie’s OLDER brother shows up. he’s an asshole, exactly like their dad, tries hitting on reader, crashes on their couch, makes eddies life hell then it all comes to a head and they end up fighting!
I really love this request!!! 🫶🏻
Never proofread
I hope this is what you wanted, thank you for requesting <3
Happy ending
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~~~
If there was one thing in life Eddie didn't think he'd ever achieve, it was getting his life together. He never thought he'd make it out of the trailer park. And he definitely never thought he'd have a wife by his side and a baby on the way.
It took Eddie a long time to get on his feet. Selling drugs and living with his uncle was not the future he wanted for himself. He used his dirty money and got himself a shitty apartment, in the corner of the dirtiest neighborhood, but it was all his. And being on his own was something he could be proud about.
~~~
He was living in that apartment for around five years when he met Y/N. She moved into the apartment next to him, struggling to carry boxes through the front door. Eddie was happy he lived on the first floor, easily walking out behind her, trying his best to not seem creepy.
She turned around and screamed as she saw him. A hand over her chest. Eddie jumped at the scream, hands in the air to show he meant no harm.
"I am so sorry! I just wanted to see if you needed help." He offered with the friendliest smile he could manage.
Who would have thought in three years, he would have been marrying that girl.
~~~
Marriage life was the best thing Eddie has experienced, and he felt that fatherhood would be the same. He never knew how badly he craved a family until he was on the path of creating his own. He could start fresh, start a new family tree of the Munson name. A name that didn't have to be originated from prisoners, dealers, and being poor. He wanted the Munson name to be carried on through generations, with all good things behind it. Having a wife like Y/N take his name, told him he had a strong beginning.
She was around six months, her belly growing by the day. Together they made enough to buy a small home, in a safer neighborhood. Nothing too flashy, but it was their home and it meant everything. Eddie gagged at the thought of a white picket fence but he loved seeing it shine in the morning sun when Y/N watered the plants.
The nursery was nearly finished. The walls painted baby pink, and the furniture white. Eddie's favorite bands posted on the walls. He claimed their daughter needed to get her music journey started right away.
Eddie was the happiest he's ever been until an unwelcome visitor showed up at his door.
Y/N knew everything about Eddie, except his family. She knew Uncle Wayne and that was all. She respected that Eddie was private about his family and that he didn't care to share who they are.
So Y/N stood in shock when an older man stood at her door, the same shade of brown as her husband. A similar smile on the man's face, and a slightly bigger version of Eddie's nose.
"I'm looking for my brother," the man stated, looking her up and down. A tiny smirk on his face. But his smirk didn't give her butterflies, it made her stomach turn in a bad way.
She screamed for Eddie, a polite smile on her face. The longer Eddie took the more nervous she got.
"How far are you?" The man questioned, his hand reaching for her stomach.
She took a big sigh of relief when Eddie's hand shot out and stopped the man's touch from touching her. He stood in front of her. Completely blocking her view from the stranger.
"Little E, how the hell are you?" The stranger asked
"What are you doing here?" Eddie snapped. She watched as his body was stiff, she slipped her hand in his back pocket and stood on the side of him.
"Got out of jail, needed a place to crash. Wayne is going out of town and doesn't trust me alone in his place." The man rolled his eyes as he finished his sentence.
"I don't blame him since the last time you did you trashed it," Eddie said, his jaw was tight and his face was hard.
"Come on, E, help a brother out."
~~~
Eddie wasn't sure why he said yes, but he already regretted it watching the way his brother's eyes were glued to his wife.
"Quit staring," Eddie snarled, using his foot to kick him under the table.
Y/N hummed in the kitchen as she checked the chicken. Trying her best to keep her attention off of the two men at the dining table. She felt her body shudder underneath Michael's stare.
"Quite a woman you got there," Michael said, sipping on his beer
Eddie didn't say anything, accepting the silence instead.
Y/N smiled as she placed the food on the dinner table. Putting together a plate for Eddie and placing it in front of him.
"Gonna make me a plate, pretty girl?" Michael winked, his hand reaching forward to her wrist. She gulped and looked nervously at Eddie.
"Leave her alone." Eddie snapped
Michael put his hands up in surrender, making his own plate.
The three sat in silence.
~~~
Michael has been crashing on the couch for the past week, and every day he was getting on Eddie's last nerve.
Y/N worked from home and spent most of the day in her office, Eddie worked at a car dealership. He hated leaving for work and leaving her alone with Michael. He didn't trust Michael but Eddie's boss would also kick his ass for not showing up.
He kept his phone on him at all times, reminding Y/N to call the second she needed him to come home.
~~~
Michael said he found a friend to crash with and would be leaving shortly. Asking Y/N if she would help him clean his clothes and pack up his belongings. She honestly felt too scared to tell him no, silently scooping up his clothes and bringing them to the small laundry room. She excused herself to head into the shower. Eddie would be home within minutes so she felt safe to be in a vulnerable state, checking twice to make sure the door was locked.
~~~
Eddie pulled up in the driveway, bracing himself for another night of trying not to kill Michael with his bare hands. He walked in to see his house trashed, the cushion torn apart, and the cupboards all thrown open, he heard shuffling around in the bedroom. He raced to the noise to see Michael digging through their drawers.
"What the fuck? Are you trying to rob us?" Eddie asked in disbelief, Michael's backpack was filled with random items. Eddie yanked the bag out of his grip, dumping it all out on the bed.
He felt his blood boil when Y/N's ring fell out. But once his brain caught up with seeing the ring, his blood felt cold. She ONLY took it off when she was in the shower. Eddie turned his eyes to Michael, immediately shoving him against the wall.
"Where did you grab the ring?" He prayed with everything in him that she left it in the bedroom.
"She had it sitting on the bathroom counter, she couldn't see me with her back to me. Really hit the jackpot there, Eddie. Shes' smoking."
Eddie felt his stomach turn, he felt like he could throw up at any moment.
"You fucking pig. Don't talk about her." Eddie barked, twisting Michael's shirt in his grip.
"A really nice ass, I bet her tits ar-" But Eddie kicked Michael in the stomach before he could finish.
~~~
Y/N heard a commotion in the bedroom, fear in her stomach as she got covered herself in a towel and called Wayne. Racing out of the bathroom to see Eddie on top of Micahel, screaming and punching.
"OH MY GOD, EDDIE" She panicked, she knew getting in the way would put the baby in danger, but she has never seen Eddie so out of control.
The sound of her scream caused Eddie to freeze, and both men looked to see her.
"Eddie, stop," She said calmly. She placed her hand out, offering him to stand up. He took a deep breath and got off of Michael. Grabbing his bag and throwing it on him.
"You are out." Eddie snarled
Michael coughed as he tried to move his beaten-up body. Eddie rolled his eyes and dragged Michael to his feet.
"I have his clothes," Y/N said, quickly running out to the laundry room.
Michael smirked as Eddie looked over at him.
"What asshole?" Eddie asked.
"I see why you knocked her up. When she was bent over that washing machine." Michael groaned, rubbing himself over his jeans.
Eddie lost it again, immediately throwing his body on his.
Y/N came back with the clothes to see Michael unconscious, but the look in Eddie's eyes was unrecognizable.
She didn't fear him, but she was worried for him.
She breathed a sigh of relief when Wayne came through the door, yanking Eddie off of Micahel.
"Hey, hey, look at me," Wayne instructed, grabbing the sides of Eddie's face, forcing his eyes to look at him.
Eddie's body was shaking, his knuckles cut open, and his breathing was quick and harsh.
Eddie locked his eyes on Waynes, allowing himself to calm down.
"I'll take care of him, hug your wife and go clean up."
Eddie listened in seconds, turning around to throw himself in his wife's arms. Allowing her to hide in his neck. She rubbed his back and cooed in his ear.
She took him to the bathroom to clean up his hands. Kissing each knuckle as she cleaned the blood.
"I'm sorry I let him stay here." Eddie sighed, he couldn't believe he was that dumb. He watched Wayne do the same thing with Eddie's dad for years, and yet he did the same thing.
"Don't be. You wanted to help and that was sweet of you." She said, standing between his legs as he sat on the counter.
They heard the front door close, Wayne and Michael officially gone.
"I'm sorry my family is a mess, this I why I never wanted you to know them." He added. His hands reached down to rub her stomach.
"Wayne is your family, I'm your family, and she is your family. That's the only family I care to know. Wayne raised the man I love and he is the only one I need to know. I have the two best Munsons in my life." She said, leaning up to peck his lips.
"Well, I get to have three." He smiled, kissing her back and his hand stayed on her stomach.
This was his real family.
~~~
tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila
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konigsblog · 8 months
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könig with a virgin s/o...
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WARNINGS: virginity loss, f!reader, dom!könig, stomach bulge,, slight dacryphilia, size kink. MDNI !!!
→ masterlist.
→ kinktober masterlist.
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༉‧₊˚. “are you needy for this big dick stuffed inside your wet pussy?”
könig loves to treat you like a toy, a fleshlight to fuck.
könig has you whimpering beneath him while he slaps his leaking tip against your sensitive clit. the way you jolt and shudder, soft moans leaving through your swollen lips, your pussy glistening with your slick juicess.
how perfect you are beneath him...
he's addicted to those sounds of pleasure, sounds of addiction as he rubs his shaft up and down between your wet folds. you arch your back, closing your eyes and gripping the bedsheets tightly as a form of support while he continues to grind his hard dick back and forth against your slit.
“my, my, schatz...”
“so perfect like this...” könig whispers, a smirk stained on his face, cruel as he stimulates your already dripping cunny. seeing your eager facial expressions “you want it, huh?” he taunts, seeing your poor, tearstained cheeks.
you feel him slip the tip inside, thick and drooling. his weeping head leaking onto your hole, feeling as you pulse around every inch as he continues to ease his way inside. so tight around his big cock. he's practically splitting you apart on his dick — and you can't help but babble and cry in a desperate attempt to gather his attention, to have him rutting into you whilst cooing.
he wiped away your tears as he pushed his whole size into your walls. “too big, baby?” he mutters into your ear, seeing you nod shyly, your lips parted in pleasure and pain. “that's just too bad, little thing...” broad hips work against your own as he pumps himself into your pussy, slow and sloppy thrusts turning erratic and rough having you mewling and gasping.
you meekly work your hips against him, almost robotically as your body works for the pleasure. you can see the faint outline of his huge cock bulging out your stomach, feeling his pace increase as you tighten and pulse around him rapidly.
“good girl, keep taking this big cock, let me stuff it into your tiny pussy...” he chuckles at your whiney state, a mess just desperate to be fucked for the first time. “i can see myself bulging out your tummy, sweetheart. does that turn you on?” he ruts into you, panting heavily, the smell of sex filling your nostrils along with his thick musk.
“p-please, kö-! ” he grinds himself down against you while you moan. he loves those tears; how they ruin your gorgeous face, how they stain themselves into your skin. it gives him authority over you as he fucks his dick deep into your hole, filling you out with his thickness. “do you want to cum? do you want to be a good girl for me?”
könig can sense your close; the way you tighten around him, needily nodding your head, eagerly fucking yourself down onto him. poor inexperienced body begging for your orgasm, gasping as you grind your slick pussy against his cock. “cum, fucking cum, liebling.” he demands.
you shudder around him, squirting against his abdomen and covering his happytrail in your slick cum. you tremble and shake as he fucks his potent, sticky cum deep into you, maintaining eye contact and grinning ear to ear at your ruined face and raw cunt.
he'll just have to make sure your pussy gets enough attention, by encouraging you to sit on his face and eat your little cunt out to soothe the pain and rawness.
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copper-16 · 3 months
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You Can Do This
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Mapi for the life of her, cannot find Bagheera. The cat is in a place where the Spaniard and Norwegian least expect her to be.
(a/n: this is a mix between fluff and just a little bit of angst that is easily soothed. This is kind of introducing a theme about Mapi's specific struggles with becoming a parent, that is a topic I want to talk about and explore more in future stories about these three. Also, wanted to write some Bagheera/Elena content for @acornsquish, ofc :)
Mapi really, really hated waking up her wife when she did not need to. 
Ingrid was notoriously grumpy in the mornings, especially before she had her coffee, so the thought of getting the Norwegian up and knowing that she would likely be annoyed with Mapi for the rest of the day was not an enticing thought for the brunette. 
But the Spaniard also didn’t know what to do, because for the life of her she cannot find Bagheera anywhere. 
Mapi prided herself on knowing the cat well. She had been here before Ingrid, before Elena, and she had been the Spaniard’s ever since she was just a tiny kitten. The defender loved the cat with her life, and she was sure that she knew her well enough to know all of her hiding spots. 
The nook behind their kitchen table, behind the big armchair in the living room, under the TV in their bedroom. 
So when Mapi got up this morning to take Bagheera to the vet and hadn’t been able to find her, she had checked all of those hiding spots first. She was sure that the cat was somewhere in one of those, simply hiding from the crying from Elena that would start up soon enough when she awoke. 
The poor cat tolerated the baby, but she wasn’t exactly a huge fan of her either. Mapi and Ingrid were careful to keep the two relatively separated, not wanting Elena to accidentally pull at Bagheera’s tail or something like that. 
And for the most part, the cat stayed away without having to be told. She wasn’t a huge baby person, evidently, and Mapi couldn’t really blame her. She hadn’t exactly been bringing a bunch of babies home in the past, to be fair. 
But Elena wasn’t leaving, and neither was Bagheera, so the two learned to coexist peacefully, away from one another. 
Bagheera wasn’t in her cat tower, or in the nook behind the kitchen table, or by the armchair, or their bedroom. In fact, Mapi couldn’t begin to find the cat in the whole damn apartment. 
As the time of the cat’s vet appointment drew nearer, Mapi finally broke down, deciding that she needed to wake Ingrid up to help her look. 
“Ingrid, Ingrid!” Mapi whispered harshly, slightly shaking the Norwegian’s leg from her spot at the foot of the bed. 
“Mmm, go back to sleep Maria,” Ingrid mumbled sleepily, turning back into her pillow. Mapi swallowed thickly, looking around as though the cat would suddenly appear, and then squeezing her wife’s leg harder when she didn’t. 
“Ingrid!” She tried again, and apparently her voice was panicked enough that she got the dark haired woman up, the Norwegian blinking several times before looking up at her wife, who appeared more than a little frazzled. 
“What? Is something wrong?” Ingrid was suddenly very awake, wondering if there was something amiss with the baby. The next words out of her wife’s mouth are not, however, what she expects, given how panicked the Spaniard is.  
“The cat is missing!” Mapi hissed, and the dark haired woman’s whole face scrunched in confusion. 
“The cat is what?” Ingrid repeats, her words slightly slow as she struggles to follow the brunettes train of thought. 
“The cat is missing!” Mapi echoes, looking around again. 
“Mapi, she’s a cat. She’s not missing, she’s somewhere in this apartment,” Ingrid reasoned with far too much sureness for someone who wasn’t abreast of the current situation. 
“No, I’m telling you! I’ve looked in all of her usual spots, and she’s not anywhere! You need to help me look, I have to take her to the vet,” Mapi insisted, not waiting for Ingrid’s answer before she walked out of their room, her steps hurried but quiet, well aware that their six month old baby was still very much asleep. 
Ingrid let out a heavy sigh before she slipped out of bed, running a comb through her hair and brushing her teeth before she joined her wife in her quest to find their cat. 
Together, the two Barcelona players scoured the living room and kitchen, trying to find the black cat. When they didn’t find her there, they moved into the dining room, and then their bedroom. It was Ingrid who finally decided that they would check the one place that they were sure Bagheera wouldn’t be in. 
Elena’s room. 
The baby was six months old, and entirely the light of their lives. 
Bagheera’s life? Not so much. 
But Ingrid drags her wife down the hallway, despite the Spaniard’s insistence that there is no way Bagheera would be caught dead in there. 
The Norwegian pays her no mind, pushing the door open and walking into the room. She looks around, at the changing table, the rocking chair they have in her room, in the closet. 
But it’s Mapi who finds the cat first, her jaw flopping open in shock. 
“Ingrid,” she whispers urgently, moving toward the crib. And sure enough, there was Elena sleeping peacefully, with Bagheera wrapped around her. The black cat looks completely content and happy, more than willing to just sleep with the baby. Elena’s little fist is resting on the cat’s belly, and her face is turned toward Bagheera, even in sleep. 
The entire cat’s body is curled around their baby, her body wrapped around the baby’s head, her head laid gently on the mattress. 
Even the cat’s tail is laid over the baby’s body, resting lightly against her little belly. It’s the cutest thing Mapi’s ever seen in her entire life, and she quickly takes her phone out to snap a picture as Ingrid joins her at the crib side. 
“Who knew,” Ingrid hums softly, her voice affectionate at the sight in front of her. The two appeared entirely enraptured with one another, and Mapi felt bad about disrupting their peace. 
“I should take Bagheera, her appointment is in a bit and I don’t want us to miss it,” Mapi said forlornly, but she reached down to grab the black cat regardless, knowing that they really did need to go to the appointment. 
Bagheera limply allowed herself to be lifted, her eyes opening as her owner lifted her from the crib she had been occupying. She allowed herself to be maneuvered with little fuss, but the disruption was less than ideal for Elena, apparently. 
The baby began to fuss almost immediately, missing the comforting presence of the cat that had come to be a common presence in her crib at night, unbeknownst to her mothers. The little baby reached out for the cat instantly, looking for fur and warmth. Mapi placed the cat on the ground before she returned to the baby, her face knitted in concern at the clear unhappiness on her daughter's face. 
The Spaniard looked over at her wife with big, worried eyes. She made no move to reach for Elena, despite the fact that she was now crying. 
“Ingrid,” she prompted, looking down at the baby with an expression akin to fear. The Norwegian softened, knowing why Mapi was so concerned. 
Ingrid had been the one to deliver her, and subsequently the one who stayed home with Elena the first few months of her life. Becoming a mother had been natural to Ingrid, and she was quite good at it. She knew how to soothe, and swaddle, she had since she was a young girl. The Norwegian had slipped into the role of mother seamlessly, unlike Mapi. 
The Spaniard had not grown up around babies at all, really. It wasn’t something she was accustomed to or used to, and Elena was practically the first baby she had ever handled, apart from the odd ten minutes when she had been passed a baby who belonged to a distant relative at a family reunion or wedding. 
Throughout Ingrid’s pregnancy, Mapi had spent more than her fair share of fretting about what her relationship with her daughter would look like. Would she be close to her, would she come to understand what her baby needed, would they bond. She wasn’t the one to carry her child, but that didn’t make her love Elena any less, right? It didn’t make her any less hers, did it? 
“You are her mother too, Mapi,” Ingrid reminded the center back, not because she was chastising her, but because sometimes those were the words the defender needed to hear. 
She was ashamed to admit it, but it had been six months and she still wasn’t sure that she felt connected with her baby. When Elena cried she didn’t know what to do like Ingrid did, she just panicked. The baby didn’t look like her, or feel like hers. She saw so much of Ingrid in her daughter, and she loved that very fact, but she also ached to feel close to her. It felt like she was playing pretend, like she was a fraud. 
But she wasn’t, and Ingrid was always there to remind her of that fact. 
“I am going to get changed and take Bagheera to the vet. Why don’t you spend some time with her this morning?” Ingrid suggested, noting the panic that immediately flashed across her wifes face. She placed a comforting hand on Mapi’s shoulder, her words sure as she spoke once again. 
“You can do this Mapi. She is a baby, not a nuclear bomb. Hold her, check her diaper, feed her and snuggle with her. I know you know how to do that, and you can do this. I believe in you,” Ingrid promised and it took her a moment but Mapi nodded eventually, her face still a little worried, but holding more confidence now after the pep talk from her wife. 
The center back went to get a bottle prepared while Ingrid changed, getting Bagheera into her carrier before she returned to the kitchen, back to her wife. 
“If anything goes really wrong, you can always call me,” the Norwegian soothed, kissing the Spaniard sweetly before she slipped out the door with their cat, leaving Mapi alone with their daughter. 
With renewed determination, the brunette went back into Elena’s room. She quickly changed the baby’s diaper before giving her a bottle. But even after that, and being burped, the little baby was still fussy. 
Mapi bounced her gently, unsure of what to do. The baby just wouldn’t settle, and she found herself beginning to panic, not knowing what the next step was in trying to calm her. 
“Okay, what would Ingrid do? What would your Mama do, mi sol?” Mapi asks the little baby, receiving nothing but a noise that was somewhere between a whimper and a cry. She holds Elena tightly to herself, feeling on the verge of tears, the overwhelming feeling in her gut being one of failure. 
This was her daughter, and she could not make her feel better? Could she not soothe her own child? 
She felt like a rotten parent. The brunette looks down at the little baby, at the tear tracks that run down her cheeks, at the wetness of her little eyes as she stares up at the defender. She feels a renewed sense of determination to make the baby feel better. It hurt her heart to see her upset, and she wouldn’t stop trying to make her happier until she had exhausted all of her options. 
“Come on,” Mapi decides, walking out of Elena’s room and back into her own, sitting down on the large bed. She carefully places Elena on her back on the bed, ignoring the shrill shriek that she receives in response, in favor of first stripping her own shirt, and then her daughter out of her little onesie. 
Mapi lays back against the bed, sitting up against the headboard. She settles Elena on her chest, and is genuinely shocked by the speed at which the little baby settles, melting into her mother as her cries subside almost instantly. The baby's body is warm against her own, and her little limbs relax until she is completely limp and cuddled against the Spaniard. 
The brunette brings her hand up to rub soothingly over the baby's back, and Elena lets out a relieved puff of air at the feeling. Mapi feels herself exhale a breath she hadn’t realized that she was holding as her daughter snuggled into her. 
Elena waves one of her arms, making a little grabby fist at Mapi’s other hand that was not currently on her back, and the Spaniard brings it up, allowing her daughter to grasp her pointer finger in her tiny fist, holding it tightly to her chubby body. 
“I’ve got you, mi sol,” Mapi promises, her voice thick as she drops her head to place a kiss to the crown of Elena’s head. As much as she is worried about bonding with her baby, she knows that there is no shortage of love that she feels for her daughter. 
She would happily go to the ends of the earth for her little girl, no matter what it took. She can’t imagine not loving Elena, not having her in her life. And it’s moments like these, with her daughter completely relaxed into her chest, completely content, that remind Mapi that she can do this. 
Progress is not linear, and neither is being a parent. At the end of the day she loves Elena, and she would do anything for her safety and happiness. 
And that is enough.
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cheshirebitch · 2 months
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ℕ𝕠𝕥 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕆𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕤
(Alastor x Angel Dust’s Sister!Reader) pt. 2
It really has been a long time, huh?
( previous ) -> ( next )
I have never seen Anthony look at me like that, as though I’m the villain destroying his life. But, last I checked, he was the one going by the real villain that actually did take his life. It was purely distasteful with his choice of name, let alone the fact that was his porno name. What was so wrong with his actual name?
“Listen toots, I didn’t want to ask you for help. We didn’t have any other choice.” The venom spat back at me made my eyes narrow at him. What the fuck is his problem? All of this attitude is not how Anthony would talk to me. It felt like this whole new persona was taking over who he really is. I wanted to rip him apart, but not in front of these people. I can’t let everyone know my weaknesses, even if they pretty much all knew tiny parts.
“I get that. So I’ll ask again, what did you need help with?” I seethed through my teeth, feeling the watching eyes of all his friends. I only tensed up at my own attitude when I remembered Alastor and Lucifer were here too. I rolled my eyes closed and took a deep breath in and out before having an eerily calm aura surrounding me. Knowing I wasn’t going to get an answer out of the pissed off porn star brother, I looked towards Charlie. I could tell I made her nervous, shivers running down her spine before she straightened herself out and answered me.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard that we- uh-“ She glanced back at Lucifer who was wide eyed back, shrugging slightly as a response.
“That you,” pointing at Niffty with a smug smile, “killed the great and Holy Adam? Yeah, hard to miss when it’s being broadcasted on every device in hell.” I crossed my arms, smiling. It was really amusing to see Lucifer step in with his slip up of phrasing. Alastor also put on a good show by standing against Adam. I never expected him to actually take on such a powerful Heaven icon.
“Yeah, well, we need help with reinforcement in case the angels decide to retaliate.” She nervously fidgeted with her fingers, Lucifer watching me with anticipation. They all were, really. I was honored they considered me for help against heaven. Pretending to be debating it, I took long strides between Lucifer and Alastor.
“With all things considered, that’s a lot of my members being potentially killed for you. What do you have to offer me to make it worthwhile?” My hand started to glow pink, flexing my fingers and watching Charlie. Lucifer couldn’t make a deal with me or that’ll make more problems, only leaving Charlie and Alastor. Not like Luci would ever make the trust between us obvious. It would be a poor move if he wants to keep his weaknesses unknown. Alastor would rather drop dead than to be on a leash of someone else, though I have a sneaky suspicion it’s because he’s already on a leash. I should ask him about it next time we have one of our talks. Also, I already knew what they were going to sell to me but I can’t just make an assumption with it.
“We will make sure Angel Dust gets redeemed.” My eyes light up pink, turning around to look at Alastor. He held his hand out casually, opposite of how Charlie held hers against her chest. What a bland, and predictable, deal offer.
“Alastor, baby, I already knew that. We both knew that.” I winked at him. “So, what else?” His smile strained, despite it appearing to become more entertained. I read him like a book. It wasn’t very hard since he loves to hide behind a smile, saying it made things more intimidating. I’d like to think it’s more so the idea of being able to bottle those emotions he loves to hide.
“What else? Darling, I think it’s more than reasonable for that to be a big deal.” He smiled his sharp teeth, my eyes watched them carefully. A sneaky feeling crawling up my spine as my eyes stuck like a magnet to him. That’s when Lucifer pushed Alastor’s arm down, rolling his sleeves up, walking towards me. He stuck his hand outstretched towards me, trying to intimidate me with a hard stare. I just smiled in response, awaiting for his deal. I guess they really are desperate if Luci won’t even let Alastor and I pretend to hash out this deal. It was already mutually understood what he was going to offer was more than just that. He was just toying with the rest.
“We will get your brother into heaven, and you.” My smile froze on my face. I couldn’t get into Heaven. No matter how hard any of us tries, I’ll always be stuck here in hell. That fate was sealed long ago. My hands have been permanently stained red and black from how many lives I selfishly took after the death of my two siblings. My hands crossed tightly behind my back as I pondered harder over what he was promising.
I don’t think I want to go to Heaven. I couldn’t place why but something small was trying to tug me to decide to stay in hell.
Something small. The idea of being in heaven with my two younger siblings was bigger. Hell, maybe even the forgotten sibling will be there too.
“Can you even make deals, Luci?” I purred out the nickname in a taunting manner, giving a small moment of silence between us. Since he wanted to air out dirty laundry, I’ll give more hints to how close we actually are. But, he definitely didn’t think he could make a deal either. Charlie tried reasoning with him while Alastor watched from the sidelines, an odd look in his eyes. They flickered to Lucifer before narrowing with displeasure. I guess someone doesn’t like sharing friends.
“I guess we will see, won’t we La Morte.” He was struggling to remain professional. Neither of us wanted to act like this. This was all just a show for our professional standpoints, but I hated it. I’ve had to act professional and put together all my life, no matter how hard I fought against my father to create a life for myself and my siblings who wanted out. That’s all any of us wanted. Lucifer was a good guy despite the title he carries. His daughter is also an amazing girl. I would have agreed to do this either way. But, too many eyes were watching in this moment, too many windows and vulnerability to be spotted for our soft realities of each other. My hand gripped his as pink and gold clashed together.
“You got a deal, Satan.” My smile turned poisonous as I gripped his hand. My magic branded his palm with a pink heart, healing itself just as quickly into a scar. I felt the searing pain of a tally mark etch into my back, ignoring the feeling and refusing to let it slip out that it even happened.
“Anyways, enough with the professional talk. If we are going to be a team, call me by my name. I’m (Y/n).” Whether they could tell or not, my smile was genuine when I reached to shake hands with Charlie, Lucifer still rubbing his hand where the heart was branded onto him. Alastor watched heavily, something else pulling the weight of his stare on me. There’s no way he knows about the reciprocating brand mark. What can he notice that I don’t have hidden?
“Your name is really beautiful! I’m glad I don’t have to call you Death every time I refer to you now.” Charlie smiled genuinely back. Trying his best to make it sound like he has never called me by my name before. My eyes raked over his figure, understanding it’s a secret he wants to keep.
“Well of course, any friend of Anth- I mean Angel Dust, is a friend of mine.” The sibling sense kicked in before I even had to turn around. Anthony just rolled his eyes at me. Quick movements led to my shoe being thrown at Anthony’s head, smacking him hard enough in the face to send him backwards.
“Che cazzo!” (What the fuck!) My head snapped 180 with my body facing Charlie still. Through a clenched jaw and wide wild eyes, I lectured Anthony under my breath.
“Schialla, stronzo.” (Chill out, Asshole.) He immediately stopped, slouching against the wall. Anthony muttered under his breath but at least it wasn’t as disrespectful and obvious. Husk found it amusing enough to stifle a laugh with Vaggie.
“So, what’s the war plans?” I beamed, excited to get murderous for a good cause. Those exorcists killed a lot of my people, pissing off my whole team and myself tremendously. That was our family they were murdering brutally, just so they could have their sick fun and somehow remain in the sky. That was something Charlie and I could get along with.
“About that…” Lucifer awkwardly smiled. You’ve got to be joking. They have nothing? My eyes glanced at Alastor, who was still staring at me. I narrowed my eyes on him, silently asking “you serious right now?” to which he looked amused and shrugged. Bastardo, it’s your skin also being risked here.
“Okay, what do I have to work with here?” Charlie reappeared with a stack of papers and dropped them into my hands. I blinked a couple times, gazing through the words scribbled on the papers. These were lousy attempts at battle plans or any sort of war plans.
“I’ll revise these and have them back to you soon. I do request to have somewhere nearby for me to stay, along with my members. Fifteen minutes away isn’t a good distance, doll.” Observing Charlie’s timid behavior. Lucifer peered behind his daughter, gauging my reaction to everything. I had my work cut out for me but any excuse to be involved in Anthony’s life again was something I was willing to risk everything for.
“Consider it done. Let’s take a stroll so I can show you where it’s at.” Lucifer snapped his fingers and excitedly held his arm out for me to take to walk with him. He was always trying his best to put on a front, but I know he’s still struggling. I mean we still meet and talk about ways for him to mend the broken relationship with Charlie. But, it feels like another negative energy was coming from where my other ally stood. When I turned to Alastor, his eyes were still locked onto my figure, wide and slightly terrifying. The look alone ran a chill down my spine. Why did it feel more exciting than terrifying?
“You coming?” Lucifer glanced backwards towards me, forcing me to peel my eyes away from the enticing ruby set still locked on me. Instead, my eyes met the pale yellow and glowing red set. The tension felt high, pushing me to leave immediately.
“Yeah, of course. Just taking the place in since I’ll be staying here, and potentially dying here.” I laughed sadistically as Lucifer frowned and elbowed me.
“Not funny. There is no way myself, or any of us, will let something happen to you. Unless you get redeemed, too.” He winked trying to sell the confidence he could get me into heaven with my brother. I doubt it, but no harm in trying.
Following down the hall, around back, there was a warehouse building directly behind it. It mirrored the looks of my warehouses that have been distributed in my territories. I could easily move a little over half of my people within this building, comfortably. The smile slowly dragged across my face before I could stop it. Lucifer was smiling back at me, satisfied.
“Che bello…” (How beautiful…) My whole body relaxed, feeling almost unnatural. I didn’t know how to handle how I was feeling at all. All this weight that’s been pushing down on my shoulders just lifted enough for me to breathe, to relax. No one has ever done something this tremendous for me. I could feel tears brimming my eyes, ripping me out of that relaxed feeling. Instead, it was replaced with a sense of dread and need to feel that relaxed again. Lucifer was smiling softly, hand snaked around my waist as he waited.
“You want to go see the inside, (Y/n).” A small smile remained as I allowed his arm to remain, feeling natural and familiar, but so wrong.
“We can’t keep doing this, Angel. We both know that!” Lucifer was having one of his episodes again. The thoughts of Lilith coming back any second, just to see him fucking some other girl and actually leave him type of thoughts. Not that I could ever understand what he’s going through and show sympathy, but rather I’m getting tired of fixing what I didn’t break.
“Listen, Luci, I know.” He stopped. In the poorly lit room, I could see his eyes glowing and a faint outline of his body shape standing on the opposite side of the bed. He knows what’s coming.
“What do you mean?” His eyes pierced mine. A hard stare swimming with all sorts of emotions. Panic was in the center of the tornado.
“Luci, we can’t keep having the same conversation every other day.” I sighed as he remained frozen in fear. One wrong move and I can destroy everything.
“I know you still love her. Nothing could ever change that. You have spent all of eternity together, created a beautiful daughter, ruled over hell. It’s not something you can just fix in seven years, and I never expected you to.” His eye twitched as his black hands started to curl in, making fists. I watched carefully how his breathing was now heavier. I didn’t want to make a bigger mess but I can’t mindlessly try and heal him again, no matter how badly I wanted to.
“What I did expect was some sort of progress to prove that you were learning to let go and love me.” It felt selfish how I was wording it, but my own abandonment issues were strangling me. It hurt to breathe and my vision was blurring. He huffed out, about to deny everything I’m saying.
“I know you love me, but not as much as Lilith.” My eyes froze on Lucifer in panic. Merda. (Shit.) I said her name.
“Don’t you ever say her name. Especially not like that. If she loved me, she wouldn’t have disappeared, abandoned me or Charlie. You don’t know anything.” I knew he didn’t mean it at the moment but my mom taught me one thing, never let a man tell you twice he doesn’t want you.
“It’s over, Lucifer.” I moved slowly to the door, refusing to turn my back to him and his eerie glowing eyes in the dark room, shutting the door quietly and carefully behind me.
During my walk back, it felt like a walk of shame. Opening and closing my door as quietly as possible to my office, sliding my back down the door. There is where I sobbed for hours, grieving a relationship where I actually felt loved, relaxed, and free from the impact my father has held on me all my life. This is where I vowed to never allow myself to get emotionally attached again.
(As always, the characters belong to their owner and the story belongs to me. If you have any requests or ideas, send them over! I love to hear feedback! I will also gladly try to write things for my supporters! I have put a LOT of research and planning into this series! I also researched Italian to try and make it as real as possible! Thank you for the love and I hope y’all have a great day! <3 :)!)
Tag List:
@pooka167 @serenity-songbird @readergirlstuff @nishayuro @lovingyeet @genderlessdude92 @slytherin4ever @random-3455 @mo-0-o @lucifers-silhouette @sadnessiscoldtea @idonthaveanameforthisacc @marxo5 @emonerdwinchester @macehysteria @tsukiko26
Tagged who I could, some it wouldn’t allow :(
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holylulusworld · 2 months
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Right number
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Summary: I need for a new job you call the friend of a friend.
Pairing: Mobster!Lloyd Hansen x SugarBabe!Reader
Warnings: sugar babe trope, Lloyd being Lloyd, implied darkish Lloyd Hansen, daddy kink, smut, unprotected sex, pet names, doggy style, dumbass/naive? reader, implied blowjob, mentions of edging, implied/mentions of kidnapping
Catch up here: Wrong number
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“Aw, don’t hold back sugar plum,” Lloyd coos in your ear. He loves to toy with you and to play the nice guy. Lloyd whispers gentle words in your ear while his cock stretches your poor cunt out. “I want to hear every moan and scream you try to keep down your throat.”
“Nghh…” You bite your wrist. It’s a trick. Lloyd told you to remain silent and not to make the tiniest noise while he has his way with you.
“Louder, baby cakes,” he taunts. “I want to hear you make the cutest noises!”
You sniffle as the pleasure gets too much. Lloyd snaps his hips faster into your ass, causing a tiny whimper to escape your throat. 
Lloyd loves having full control over your body like this. His weight on top of you keeps you immobile. You can’t do more than take his punishing thrusts.
“This cunt is worth every buck I spent on you, cupcake. So, fucking tight and needy for my big cock,” you whine a little louder this time. “Aw, is Daddy stretching you out again?”
You nod. 
“You know I love to hear it.”
“You’re stretching me out so good with your big cock, Daddy,” you choke the words out. Close, so painfully close to your release you don’t want to mess things up again. If you do, Lloyd won’t let you come for a week or longer. “Please…”
“You’ve been such a good girl for me lately,” he drives into you, as deeply as possible. “How can I deny you your orgasm, my greedy girl.”
“Please…”
He stops moving at all. “Shush. No begging or you won’t cum. Do you want to go back to the first days,” Lloyd whispers in your ear. “Do you?”
You shake your head and choke out a sob. The first days after Lloyd made it his mission to turn you into his new sugar babe were torture. 
He would promise you the sweetest things, only to snatch them out of your hands. Giving you a choice was never an option to Lloyd. 
He knew about your financial situation, and that you’d do anything to get a new job, and not run back to your father, begging him to help you out.
If you had to call Lloyd daddy to get all the shiny things you ever wanted - so be it. (Not that he would’ve let you slip through his talented fingers.)
At least that’s what you thought.
That was until Lloyd introduced you to his special kink. Edging. That mustache-wearing bastard loves to make you beg and scream only to not let you cum.
Every swirl of his tongue or thrust of his cock turns into a nightmare if he’s in one of his moods. - Especially after you fucked something up.
“I’ll be so good for you,” you wiggle underneath Lloyd, praying he will give you what you’re craving since he claimed your body for the first time. “Promised.”
He nips at your neck, taking his time to turn you into a whimpering and desperate mess. 
“Since I’m the only one allowed to feed your kitty with cock, you are going to be my good girl,” Lloyd purrs in your ear. “I trained my sweet cupcake well.”
You close your eyes and let yourself relax. Lloyd purrs and grunts, satisfied with your submissive behavior. 
“You deserve the world,” he starts moving again. Slower this time to let you feel every drag of his cock against your walls. He wants to drag his orgasm out, to give you more time to beg and moan.
Lloyd just loves to feel you fall apart around him after he edged you for days. “Cum for me, baby cakes. I know you need it…”
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“Lloyd, please,” you tug at his wrist. “I must go and let my father know that I’m still alive. After all the horrid things Ben told him about you he’s worried and won’t stop calling. What if he calls the cops?”
“Well then you will tell them that you love taking my cock any time of the day,” he smirks and leans back in his armchair. “You do love my cock, right?”
You lick over your lollipop, humming happily because Lloyd bought you your favorite brand and flavor. Cherry pie. “It’s my favorite cock,” you murmur around the lollipop. “I don’t need any other cock.”
“Come here,” he says and pats his lap. “I want to taste the lollipop too. Maybe I’ll consider your request and let one of my men drive you to your father.”
“Yes!” You giggle and hop onto Lloyd’s lap, straddling him. “You’re the best, Lloydie,” you wiggle in his lap and peck his lips. “You must have a taste.” You thrust the lollipop into his mouth. 
“Hmm…tastes good,” he hums around the lollipop. “Your pussy still tastes better, but we will remember the brand and flavor.”
“Can I go, Lloydie,” you run your index finger over his chest. As much as he scares the shit out of you sometimes, he’s always warm and smells so good. You feel safe with Lloyd, even though, he likes to spank your ass if you are a bad girl.
“If you stop calling me Lloydie, I will let you visit your father,” Lloyd thrusts the lollipop back into your mouth. “And after you come back to me, we will go on a short vacation. Daddy needs to take care of a few bad guys and needs his cupcake to help him relax.”
You giggle because helping Lloyd relax means non-stop fucking. 
“Yeah,” you're giddy and wiggle in his lap. “Will you do the thing with your finger again?” You lick over the lollipop watching Lloyd’s eyes darken. “Maybe I can taste something sweeter before I visit my father too.”
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“Dad, I’m fine,” you sigh deeply while looking around your father’s living room. It’s still the same. The room looks like the last time you visited him.
Nothing has changed in his life while yours got turned upside down the moment Lloyd stood in front of your door.
He just took you with him, throwing you over his shoulder. Lloyd declared you are his new sugar girl and that he’ll give you everything you ever wanted.
“That man kidnapped you!” Your father insists. “You didn’t answer any of my calls for the last months.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to talk to me. Before I met Lloyd you hadn’t called in two years,” you huff. “So, here I am. I’m alive and well. Now leave Lloyd and me alone. I got to go now.”
“He’s the worst! He hit Ben!”
“Yeah, because that fucker gave me the wrong number. That drunk asshat confused the numbers, and I ended up having a job interview with the wrong guy.”
You turn to leave. “Wait! That man brainwashed you or something! Stay here and we will find a way to free you from that man!”
“I don’t need saving,” you stick your tongue out. “Lloydie is good to me. In any way.”
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“What do you want?” Lloyd groans into the phone. He watches you lick over the wide head (enjoying his cock as much as your lollipop).
Your father barks into the phone, telling Lloyd to keep his hands off his daughter. 
“Aw, but she’s my baby girl too,” you can hear the smirk in Lloyd’s voice. He pats your head, encouraging you to take him down your throat. “After all, she calls me daddy too…”
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Tags in reblog.
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angel-of-the-moons · 4 months
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Alone Time
Moon Knight System (Marc, Steven, Jake) x Fem! Reader
TW/CW: NSFW, Fluff, smut, oral (m + f! receiving), protected sex, PiV sex, Jake has a certain kink, unprotected sex, every good mama deserves to have a train run on her, body insecurities, affirmations, porn with a big heaping slice of life, could this be considered cucking? Or voyeurism/exhibitionism?, broken condom
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
This fic is connected to "Small Surprises" Pt. 1 and Pt. 2.
A/N: I had to do it lmao.
Taglist: @simp4-fictional-men @autismsupermusicalassassin @princessakirika @mochimoqa @pimosworld
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Your life was a strange one, now. You'd gotten used to the looming, musty-smelling god that lingered in your apartment and spent time with your daughter; you'd gotten so used to having the man--er, men--in your life at your side when you wake up in the morning.
You'd especially gotten attached to their little fishy friends!
But, hey, you wouldn't change it for the world. Hanukkah and Christmas came and went, so did New years. Poor Victoria, she was hiccuping and crying because the fireworks were too loud and terrified her, prompting Jake to immediately cradle her, and even Khonshu moved to slam your windows closed to muffle the sounds. (Although you lectured him about cracking one of the panes in his haste.)
And now, Valentine's Day was coming up, and you weren't entirely sure what to get for your boys.
Victoria, bless her tiny, sweet, adorable little heart, cut out some messy, colorful, and craft-herpes (glitter) covered hearts to each of them, doodling various things each man liked. Steven's heart was brown with gold glitter and had little Egyptian designs scribbled here and there, Marc had a few sports items drawn on his white and blue-glitter heart, Jake had a bright yellow and white heart, a crude scribble of his car drawn on next to his name.
She even made one for Khonshu. It was gaudy. Bright, neon pink, purple and blue glitter all over, and had small drawings of birds on it, with a crescent moon with a smiley face in the middle. His face couldn't emote, but you couldn't help but grin like an idiot (and had to elbow Steven in the gut to keep him quiet) as your innocent daughter handed her little art project to her "Cranky Bird Grandpa 'Shu". You were positive his pride took a blow when he accepted it in front of the two of you, but the way he gingerly held the little gift silently told you that he did, infact, like it.
Why Khonshu's personality seemed to shift around you and Victoria, you were unsure. You'd never asked, and to be honest you kinda didn't wanna know. You just chocked it up to, hopefully, Khonshu realized his existence didn't have to solely revolve around justice and violence. That some of his more forgotten attributes could be indulged in; such as him being a protector and a healer.
One time, Victoria fell and scraped her knee at the park, bawling as blood trickled down her delicate little leg. Before you or Marc could leap to your feet, Khonshu was there (invisible to others, of course) and whispered something to her. She repeated it, and by the time you two got there, Khonshu was gone, disappeared into a puff of mist, and Victoria was no longer injured.
Marc had asked her, worried, about what Khonshu said to her, the moment you got into the car. You were vaguely paying attention, at first, distracted at how his beard had come in, and he'd stopped being so meticulous about his appearance that his usually raven locks and beard (the one Jake insisted they grow out) were peppered with silver.
"What did he say, Vicky?" Marc asked.
"Jus' said that I had to say the words." Victoria answered vaguely, playing with her little scarab plushie in the back seat.
"What words, baby?" Marc asked, feeling a nervous sweat break out on his neck. You had to place your hand on his thigh to snap him back to reality.
"The words!" Victoria said, pursing her cute little face, her nose all scrunched up at his lack of automatically knowing what she meant. "He said, I gotta say the words to ask for help, so he can fix me!"
"...Wait." You turned in your seat to look back at her as you approached a red light, Marc watching her warily through the rear-view.
"Honey, do you mean a prayer?"
"Duh!" She scoffed, like it was obvious. "'Shu used to fix people all the time, he says. But nobody says the words no more so he can't. I had to say em so he could do it!"
You and Marc blink at each other, mulling over what your daughter just told you, a thick silence hanging in the air that was only cut through by her munching on some veggie sticks (all carefully arranged by color, of course. The red ones tasted the best, so they went first!).
"....I forgot he could do that." Marc murmured softly, looking back at the road as the light turned green.
"Yeah!" Victoria peeped. "'Shu says he can't do it no more cause it's hard. It's easier to find bad guys than fix people 'cuz they don't him ask for it no more."
You watch as Marc's jaw tenses and a look of confliction creases his brow.
Living under basically forced servitude tends to blind one to any benevolence their "benefactor" may have possessed at one point.
...And apparently still possessed. He'd never thought--none of them had--to consider that Khonshu never dispatched them to heal anyone, because A.) Nobody prayed to him for that anymore. B.) It wasn't in Moon Knight's abilities to heal anyone. And C.) Evil was just so much easier to root out.
The rest of the ride home was quiet; Marc, Jake, and Steven's headspace abuzz with this revelation.
You, meanwhile, still stressed out over what to get Marc, Steven, and Jake.
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"I still don't trust him." Marc muttered stubbornly.
"I understand why, and you have your rights to." You sigh softly, kneading the muscles in his shoulders. You were sitting behind him on the bed, his legs draped over the edge. "But you have to admit, he's strangely... sweet to Victoria."
"I don't trust it." He huffs again, his eyes closing as your thumbs work a particularly stiff knot between his shoulders.
"I know. But believe me, if he tries anything..." You mutter as your brow creases and you apply just a bit more pressure, earning a groan and a strained chuckle from Marc.
"Shit, I think the old man is more scared of you than what the Ennead might do to him if he fucks with the sky again." He says. "You and that broom."
You grin and press yourself against his back, resting your cheek on his shoulder as you slip your arms around his midsection, feeling the mix of softness and muscle, there.
"Well... me and my broom are fearless companions." You chuckle.
Marc stutters out a short huff as your fingers brush the trail of hair running beneath waistband of his sweatpants. They were doing very little to conceal the growing erection that throbbed against his thigh.
Marc tipped his head and looked at the monitor next to the bed, showing that Victoria was happily snuggled in bed, curled up with her arms squeezing Digger the scarab plush and snoozing peacefully.
Thank god that little girl usually slept like the dead...
"So..." You say, leaning in to nip at his ear as you comb your fingers through his curls, small water droplets clinging to the strands. Your nails scraping against his scalp, he groaned.
"You don't gotta work for the old man tonight." You say, kissing down his neck and to his shoulder, feeling how goosebumps formed beneath your soft lips; your hand slowly sliding up from his happy trail to his chest.
"Ay, hermano, you don't say yes I'll fuck her for you." Jake's voice rang out.
Marc grunted at his unwanted offer and demand; usually when it came to being intimate with you, the two of you worked out a system, setting up times, etcetera. And when spontaneous things like this happened, Jake and Steven would leave you and Marc alone, and the other ways around.
But of course Jake would occasionally peek in to tell Marc different things to do to you to get the best reaction, or hell, sometimes he'd cheer Marc on like a weird perverted, one-man cheerleader.
"Hmmm... Jake?" You chuckle, taking a small bit of his muscle in between your teeth playfully.
"Fuck. Yeah." Marc gasped, your palm sliding slowly back down until it was all the way under his sweats, stroking his throbbing cock leisurely. He could feel Jake linger, just barely... he would be a spectator tonight, it seemed.
"Ah, should've known. Steven's a good boy and tends to leave everyone alone when it comes to one-on-one time." You chuckle, placing a small kiss to your bite mark. They'd be gone by the time he suited up next, but you knew all the boys had preferred little "badges" to wear.
With Marc, he liked your bite marks, your hand occasionally tugging on his hair. With Steven, it was hickeys and lipstick stains. With Jake, it was scratches on his chest and back, maybe a bitten lip.
However you were all careful not to make them too obvious. The one time Victoria brought up a hickey she spotted on Steven's throat, you swore you saw steam puff out of his ears and his brain explode.
"A-A bug bit me, poppet, th-that's all!" He told her.
"Oh! Okay." She replied to him, not questioning it further, content to go back to playing with her dolls. (She had mummified one of them while you two were making lunch, which concerned you because Khonshu helped so it was as frighteningly accurate as it could get on a chunk of plastic...)
Marc groaned and he bucked his hips up into your touch, his hand falling to where he felt yours beneath his pants, encouraging you.
"Damn, baby." He huffed, already feeling beads of precum begin to drop from the tip of his dick.
You tug his head to the side and kiss him hungrily, your lips connecting as your tongues sloppily danced with one another.
"Your mouth?" Marc hissed.
You nod with a hum slipping around him and to your knees on the soft carpet at his feet, your eyes dark and hungry as he lifted his hips, letting your soft, delicate hands pull his sweats all the way down.
"We honestly may as well stop getting dressed right out of the shower." You chuckle, biting your lip as you pump his cock with your hand, your cheek resting on his thick thigh while you give him a teasing look.
You press your thumb against the weeping head of his dick, sighing. "....because either way, one of you boys get wound up and we wind up naked again."
"Can't help it around you." Marc groaned as you ran your tongue up the underside of his length, tracing the pulsing vein there.
"Clothes just fly off on their own when you're around us, baby."
You snort and roll your eyes, giving his tip a little love nip before licking the large drop of sweet-salty fluid off it, and popping it in between your lips and swallowing him down.
"Fuck." He growled as you bobbed your head, sucking tight and hollowing your cheeks while he petted your damp hair shakily.
"So fucking good, baby."
You moan appreciatively, squirming as you feel your panties start to squish, your clit throbbing almost in tune with his pulse as you take him deeper.
You gag a bit when he gets a little overzealous, and he pulls you back, panting and brows pinched up in concern. "Shit, you okay?"
"Yeah, I just need a teeny bit of a warning next time, honey." You giggled before pulling him back into the hot wet cavern of your mouth.
Marc's eyes rolled back in bliss as your tongue stroked him, his lips snagging his teeth beautifully as his eyes drift to the monitor again to check on Victoria.
Dead asleep, but this time with a little foot poking out from her blankets.
He made a soft whine as the plush of your lips squeezed his sensitivity flesh, your teeth grazing just after, providing a singular myriad of sensations.
Gods, your mouth was downright sinful. The first time you gave him a blowjob, he thought he died again, his orgasm slamming into him like a runaway train.
Afterwards, you sheepishly admitted that sometimes, the only way your ex would get intimate with you while you were pregnant was oral, because he said the sight of your stretch marks made him uncomfortable, and he had his concern for "the kid".
Yeah, it was more likely because he was already having sex with your friend on the side by that point.
But with your boys? They loved whatever they could get, and treasured every millisecond of it. Sometimes a little too much; Steven had a habit of cumming before he even properly fucked you, especially while spending time between your legs with his tongue to the point you were worried he smothered between your thighs.
So many times he'd stain the insides of his boxers and pants, just from eating you out.
Marc groaned, his cock jerking in your mouth to signal you he was going to cum; and you hummed around him greedily, sucking harder to milk him of whatever he could give you.
"Fuuuuck--" He breathed hard, the first spurt of cum shooting out and coating your tongue; his taste heavy and thick and oh-so addicting as you happily drank him down, swirling your tongue around as you pulled off.
Marc chuckled breathlessly and collapsed onto the bed, his arm resting over his face, "Shit... I swear you could suck the soul outta one of us."
You slowly crawl up his body, looking down at him as you support yourself with your hands and knees with a cheeky grin. "That good, huh?"
Marc leaned up and kissed you softly on the lips. "That good."
His hands find their way up your thighs to cup your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he bunched your microfiber sleep shorts beneath his fingers. "Now lemme return the favor."
You squeaked and laughed as he flipped you on your back, his hands almost ripping your buttons on your shirt open to get to the skin beneath, licking and placing open mouth kisses as he moved down to your breasts, his tongue flattening over your perked nipples as his hand slides down to your tummy.
You squirmed a bit, you always do when he palms your squishy lower half. After having Victoria, you didn't "bounce back" like those gorgeous mothers online always seemed to. Your belly was stretched, visible purple marks that faded to an almost silvery sheen over time, but you just couldn't lose the weight that came with your pregnancy.
Your ex didn't like your obvious signs of your growing child within your womb, but your boys? Gods, they adored it. Because it was proof you carried that sweet, adorable, curious little girl that you all loved so much; your body keeping her safe and warm until she was ready to greet the world for the first time.
"Baby." Marc said, looking at you, his dark eyes soft and loving as his flattened his calloused palm over your squishy tummy.
"C'mon... I know that look."
"I... I can't help it." You mumble as he plants feather-soft kisses over your eyelids.
"You need to stay off those mom forums." He joked. "They're full of photoshopped women, or women who can afford surgery to hide a previous pregnancy."
"I know..."
Marc leaned down, kissing his way down your tummy, planting more and more kisses over each and every stretch mark, until his lips reached the waistband of your shorts.
"You're fucking gorgeous, baby. Every scar and bit of baby fat included."
His fingers tapped your hips and you lifted them so he could all but rip them down your legs, practically licking his chops as his eyes landed on your soaked and puffy folds, a soft patch of hair on your mons.
He kissed his way down, further, his thumb spreading your lips and labia, smearing your slick around as his lips formed an "o" around your clit.
You moaned deeply, hand tangling in his mass of untamed curls as his fingers toy with your entrance; tracing it but not sliding inside.
"Marc!" You bucked impatiently.
"So greedy." He chuckled, the vibrations from his voice sending jolts through your clit, making you jump and yelp.
The way his beard tickled and scraped your cunt and thighs had your head swimming, your slick soaking the salt and pepper hairs on his face.
When his fingers finally plunged in, your toes curled and your hands gripped your blankets tight.
"Marc." You mewled.
Marc used his thumb to pull the hood of your clit back as his index and middle fingers curled inside your tight, gummy walls; giving his tongue unfettered access to wrap around the sensitive nub.
You hips tilted and your back arched, and you had to bite down on your lip to stifle the cries that wanted to come from your mouth. Your clit was sensitive, it always was; but god forbid your baby daddy ever give a fuck about that.
Marc and the boys? Oh, they loved to abuse that knowledge every time you two were intimate. Especially when they were using their mouths on you.
"Shit, we need to find a babysitter Vicky's comfortable with." Marc growled in between open mouth kisses to your sweet lips, his fingers curling in the most devilish way.
"Wanna hear how loud we can get ya."
You hiccuped softly in an effort to control your breathing and stuttering voice as your orgasm started to creep up on you. All you could do was blabber out a short "yes" when Marc nipped at your clit again, pressing his fingers up at juuuuust the right angle, sending your eyes rolling so far back into your head you swore you could probably see your own brain for a split second as those wonderful waves of ecstasy beat away at the shores of your sanity.
Marc continued to thrust and curl his fingers, slowing down to stretch out your orgasm until you were ready, your poor hungry hole fluttering and clenching around his digits for more.
Marc, the cheeky little shit, made a lewd display of licking his fingers clean, spreading them into a wide "v" as he wrapped his tongue around each one, licking you completely clean.
You growled playfully and pulled him down to you, slipping your tongue past his lips, tasting a little of yourself in his mouth as your kiss turned sloppy and very messy; his beard soaked all the way through from how much you had gushed onto his tongue and mouth.
When you parted (because your brains finally told you that you needed oxygen to keep living) you were both flushed and hungry for more, and Marc reached down, squeezing your baby fat softly.
"All this is ours, and we aren't trading it for anything."
And damn, did he spend the rest of the night proving it to you.
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"Aunt Layla!" Victoria squealed, running and practically leaping into the woman's arms.
"'Tawar." She giggled, waving excitedly at the hippo-woman trailing just behind.
Layla laughed loudly and you grinned as she and your daughter brushed noses. It was weird, at first, meeting Marc's ex-wife (and Steven's ex-girlfriend) but you were happy they were still on friendly terms, friendly enough, that Layla wanted to meet you and your little girl.
Victoria latched onto her immediately, the moment she sat down in your living room, the curious girl pattered up to her after waking up from her nap, still drowsy as she clambered onto the sofa, and curled up in Layla's nap, resting her head on her chest.
It was so cute you almost started crying. Even the goddess, Taweret, squealed and wiggled her feet at the sight. Given she was the goddess of mothers, children, and other related things, it made sense that she adored your daughter (like Khonshu, but the old pigeon would never admit to it.)
Taweret tagged along on most visits because she wanted to meet the woman and child responsible for gaining so much trust and love from the boys to ease their pain and loneliness. She also just wanted to meet your daughter because, c'mon. Victoria was adorable and everyone so far loved her. Even the "bloody old pigeon" as she and Steven were so fond of calling Khonshu.
Layla settled and hefted your child onto her hips, walking over to give you a side hug and you two exchanged cheek kisses in greeting.
"Hey, love!" Layla said to you both. "How have things been!"
"Oh, wonderful. Victoria's started reading multi-chapter books already." You sigh, smiling in wonder at your daughter.
Victoria giggled bashfully and started rubbing her cheek onto Layla's, reaching out to touch Taweret's outstretched palm.
"Really? So soon?" Layla blinked in amazement.
"Yeah, the doctor said it's not entirely uncommon that some autistic children develop certain skills quicker. She's already reading some of Steven's textbooks to him!" You reply.
"Damn, give her a few weeks and I'd wager this little ankle-nipper will be able to put any of those scholars at the museum to shame." She snorted.
"Steven said the same thing." You chuckled. "Even joked that they could probably go into Uni together."
"Oh gods, that's cute." Layla giggled as Victoria dug her fingers into her curly hair to play with the silky mass.
"Steven had a meeting at the museum today, he'll feel so sad for not saying bye." You say wistfully.
"Eh, it's one night. He will survive." Layla scoffed playfully.
"...Thank you so much for agreeing to take her." You sighed at her.
"Hey, hey, no problem. It's Valentine's and you two have been so wound up lately you need some alone time." She winked at you not-so-subtly.
You blushed a bit at her implication and laughed nervously as you reached for Victoria's overnight bag.
"Oh--her favorite blanket and toys are in there. Her shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste, Digger is in there, too, because you know how she gets without him--"
"Relax, I know this'll be her first time away from you." Layla smiled warmly. "But she'll be fine. The hotel is just a block away, and plus, nothing will happen to her. Not with a goddess and her Avatar looking out for her, eh?"
Your shoulders dropped with a heavy sigh. "Yeah... Yeah, you're right. It's just..."
"No, no I get it." Layla's eyes twinkled. "...So how many squishmallow things has Steven and Victoria accumulated?"
You laugh out loud and point behind her, the corner of your living room where you'd had your Christmas tree was now stacked with several plushies, mostly squishmallows of various kinds, including a very large pineapple named "Maui" that Steven and Victoria loved curling up against to read together.
Layla snorted when she looked, shaking her head. "Well, could collect worse things, I s'pose."
"Like taxidermied bugs and animals?" You joke.
"Oh that's a horrible thought!" She grinned.
"Yeah, well, like you said..."
Layla laughed again and moved so Victoria could lean up to you and rub noses, and you could pepper her soft little face with plenty of kisses.
"Be good for your Aunt Layla and Taweret, okay?" You ask her gently.
"I will, mommy!" Victoria chirped, rubbing her face onto yours lovingly, breathing in your perfume.
You waved as they all left, feeling almost bereft and out of place in your suddenly too quiet flat.
You decided, after a few moments of nervous lip chewing, to walk back to your bedroom.
You walked to your closet and moved aside an old suitcase, revealing a long black box wrapped in hot pink ribbons.
After that night with Marc, something clicked inside your brain and you knew what to get for the boys.
Or rather, what to get yourself for the boys.
You set the box on the bed and looked at the article of "clothing" sitting inside the box. You'd ordered this set of lingerie after Jake and Victoria snuggled on the couch after watching Zootopia together.
You made sure to have it delivered "accidentally" to your neighbor's flat, and she handed it over to you like you two were smuggling contraband into a prison.
After all, you didn't want the boys to find your surprise, now did you?
It took a bit, but you'd stripped down and hastily pulled on your new set. All straps, the fabric was easy on your hands, so you knew Steven wouldn't be overwhelmed by the texture when he touched you.
And boy... would he want to touch you.
The straps covered up nothing and so much at the same time, leaving nothing to the imagination while still, leaving so much.
Looking into the mirror, you swallowed thickly. It looked nothing like it did on the models on the site. Where they had flat, toned bodies and perfect figures...
You had soft, rounded out features, stretch marks and of course, the baby fat.
You chewed your bottom lip hesitantly, your first instinct to take it all off and shove it back into he closet when you saw what you didn't like.
But... you knew that Marc, Jake, and Steven loved you. And that they would go feral if they saw you in it.
For added measure, you slid on the sheer, white stockings up to your thighs, the soft material squishing the plushest parts of your legs.
You had to shove the second one up hastily when you heard the front door unlock, and Steven's voice.
"Ey, love?" Steven called out.
"Uh--egh--fuck--hold on a minute!" You say, scrambling for your fluffy bathrobe. It concealed enough that they wouldn't see much... save for if they looked at your feet.
Steven had walked into the bedroom just barely after you'd tossed the box back into the closet and the door clicked shut, you awkwardly smiling and standing with your hands clasped in front of you.
"Heeeyyy... You!" You tried pitifully.
A thick brow raised behind those dark-rimmed glasses of his. Gods, he looked gorgeous. Dressed in a nice smooth button-up, his blazer buttoned halfway up and his curls falling into his face? His sweet, boyish curiosity had you already blushing.
He looked every bit like the kind of professor many college students would fantasize about taking "extra credit" with...
"What's got you in a tizzy?" Steven chuckled, walking over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist to kiss the tip of your nose.
"Oh uhm.... Ah." You squirm, giggling at his kisses.
"Is it because Victoria is out?" He asked, tilting his head to the side like a curious pup.
"Well, uh, eh... Uhm." You cough awkwardly. Oh, this was a horrible idea. So stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
"Oh! Actually, hold that bubble." Steven chirped, fishing out a small paper bag out of his back pocket.
Inside the bag, was a small box. A jewelry box.
Your hand goes to your mouth as he opens it up and grins sheepishly. "Took us forever to agree on something. Marc was being a real bellend about it, y'know?"
He frowns over at your mirror, his brows creasing as he scowls at his reflection.
"What! You were!" He snapped.
Inside the box was a silver pendant, cut in the shape of the crescent moon, with engraving on it.
"We love you, to the moon and back."
"A bit cheesey, innit?" He mumbled, pulling at his sleeves as his hands darted all over your face, his teeth snagging his lip.
You honestly felt like tearing up. It was so... so cheesey, and so romantic. Very much a Steven thing to do. But you could tell even Marc and Jake had a hand in it, too. It was a united effort.
"Steven...." You begin, lifting your eyes to lock with his doe-like brown ones.
He tosses a nervous, awkward smile.
"I love it. It's gorgeous." You say, your thumb brushing over the shiny material.
"Let me put it on you?" Steven asked you hesitantly, as if worried you'd say no.
"Sure." You smile warmly at him, noticing how his demeanor lights up and he cheerfully brings the chain around your neck as he moves to stand behind you, carefully locking the clasp so the moon hung just beneath your collarbone.
You hear Steven go "huh" under his breath as his fingers brush beneath your bathrobe, touching the straps of the lingerie you were concealing.
"What's this, love?" He asked you, and you jolted slightly.
Oh, shit. Right. The lingerie. You'd almost forgotten it!
"Uh.... It's.... Eh...." You stammer out awkwardly, stepping away to fiddle with the sash of your robe.
Steven watches, curiously and patiently waiting for you to speak, his head tilted to the side.
"So, I've been trying to figure out what to get you guys for Valentine's day, y'know? I was stumped, trying to think on what I could do, so... I... Um."
You looked at Steven, his curls flopped over his head, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips as he nods, urging you on.
'Damn it, now or never...'
Your fingers undo the knot of the robe and let the fluffy material slip down to hang from your forearms, your face erupting in a heated flush as you feel his eyes rake slowly up and down your body and hear him gasp just barely audibly.
"Oh, love." He breathed. "You... That looks--"
He snapped his head to the mirror, his face scarlet red. "Sh-shut it! I was--no! You just shut it!"
You watch as he looks at you again, bashfully as your eyes reconnect. He rubbed the back of his head and said sheepishly, "S-Sorry.... Jake just won't... Stop being Jake right now."
"Oh..." You reply, licking your plush lips anxiously as Steven walks closer to you, his hand reaching out to brush the various straps, moving to delicately cup one breast, his thumb brushing over the strap that covered your nipple as he continued to look at you and that silver pendant that hung from your neck.
You really completed a gorgeous image; like a swan perched elegantly on a lake's smooth surface.
Sometimes, Steven felt like a clumsy and loud goose next to you. He knew it was a poor comparison, that you would never look at him or Jake or Marc that way, but he had his own insecurities as much as you did...
"Do... you like it?" You ask slowly as his other hand, warm and more than a little sweaty rests on your hip.
"We love it." He replied, leaning in to kiss you softly on the lips. As he pulled away, you noticed his dark eyes become almost smoky--heavy.
"We.... Wouldn't mind seeing this on you more often."
"Well... Hm." You say, feeling his hands encircle you, moving down to cup your ass as his mouth kissed your jaw.
His calloused fingers squished and rolled your cheeks beneath his palms, pulling you closer to his own body, allowing to feel his hardening cock press against your thigh while his knee parted your legs and your back connected with the cold plaster of your bedroom wall.
The chill made your nipples harden, poking through the fabric of your lingerie and you yelped at the sensation.
"Hell.... You 'right, love?" Steven asked, his curls falling over his forehead as he looked at you with wide eyes.
"Yeah." You chuckle, goosebumps erupting on your body. "The wall's a little cold."
"Oh...." Steven says, his lips brushing your ear.
"Then... we best move to the bed, yeah?"
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You were positive there were going to be bruises on your hips from how desperately Steven had gripped them, rabbiting into you, his cock sliding in and out of you effortlessly, the sound of slapping skin sinfully loud inside your bedroom.
"S-Steven!" You squeaked, your poor cunt abused and sensitive as he fucked you, the texture of the condom he wore sending little shocks through your body with each drag of his hips.
You had already cum--twice--once from Steven's hands and mouth, and once more from how he'd fucked into you.
Steven had cum while his face was buried between your legs, rutting his clothed hips hard against your mattress as you squirmed and writhed against him. The way he looked when he pulled back, lips swollen, face flushed; his beard wet from your juices, his hair tousled and hanging over his brow. He looked utterly fucked out and he hadn't even been inside of you yet.
"....k-know, love." Steven whimpered, rutting into you a bit more, practically bent in half over you as he kneeled between your legs, his cock angled at an eye-rolling tilt so it slammed once more against your g-spot.
"Almost--almost--" He panted hard, his grip on your hips slipping a little because of how sweaty you both were, so instead he hooked his hands through the straps that still adorned you and used them for leverage as he relentlessly pounded into you.
You dug your nails into his shoulders as you pulled him down, mouthing at the apple of his throat as it bobbed, tasting the thin layer of sweat that dewed his skin, sucking a bruise onto the skin, there.
"L-Love!" Steven whimpered, his pace stuttering as you feel him twitch inside of you, the condom beginning to swell a bit as he pumped his load into the safe cocoon of latex.
His hips slowed into languid rolls, prolonging his orgasm just by a tiny bit as he came down from his high.
You kissed his temple softly, petting his sweat-damp curls as his breathing began to even out. You feel him slump against against you and his arms lock.
You feel a shuddered breath escape him before his breathing finally became steady.
"Steven?" You ask him softly, running your fingers through his hair again.
He lifted back and supported himself on his forearms, looking down at you with a grin, his eyes twinkling.
"Think again, cariño."
"Jake." You breathed, already feeling a thrill creep up your spine as his lips traced your jawline.
"Steven got to have you all dressed up," His fingers playfully snapped one of the straps on you, making you squeak softly. "Now it's my turn. Can't let such a nice, pretty present go unwrapped."
"Oh.... So you're gonna take it off me, now?" You asked, shuddering as he pulled out, still rock hard.
"Nah." His hands went to your hips and with a jerk, flipped you onto your belly, pulling your ass up, his hand kneading the soft flesh as he looked down at you.
He moved the panties to the side to see your red, puffy cunt. "Coño más bonita que he visto."
He didn't change the condom; instead, he pushed right back into your pussy, groaning deep in his chest as he felt your heat grip and squeeze him invitingly.
"Nice..." Jake hissed through his teeth, pulling back slowly before sinking back in, relishing in how your body so eagerly welcomed him back inside of you; your thighs glistening so beautifully, wetting his own, dripping down his shaft to coat his balls as he started fucking you into a steady rhythm.
He winced himself, feeling tense as the body had cum while Steven was in control, so his nerves were still highly sensitive to everything right now. He wasn't going to last long, he knew and it frustrated him. He made a mental note to remind the other two to leave him alone with you for a day or so at some point, wanting to be able to ravish and ravage you properly.
He leaned over, kissing the skin between your shoulder blades as he muttered against you.
"Touch yourself for me, mamí. Want to feel you choke my cock." Jake rasped.
You moan weakly, complying with his request as your fingers slide down beneath you, grazing circles over your engorged clit, choked-out whimpers coming from you as Jake began thrusting into you hard and rough, his skin slapping you so hard you thought there would be red marks from the sheer ferocity of it.
"Oh, god--Jake--" You wail into the pillow, your fingers swiping and circling more and more, trying desperately to match his pace as your squishy, wet walls crushed his cock beneath their fluttering onslaught.
He growled and fisted a large bit of the straps in one hand, pulling your ass back against him, watching as your skin rippled and jiggled with every slap as he fucked into you over and over.
"Fuck, yes. Just. Like. That." He hissed, each word punctuated by a slam of his hips into yours.
You could feel another orgasm just about to burst, your head swimming in that blissful haze as Jake plowed into you at a bruising, aching pace.
"Such a gorgeous mamí." Jake said to you, his voice was heady with arousal.
"So fucking pretty, such a good fucking mamí. Sabes lo bonita que eres, ¿no?"
Your mind was turned to mush as your orgasm washed over you, filling every pore with a dizzying pleasure, rendering you barely aware of what he was saying, let alone to translate it as his hips snapped into you one final time.
However... You felt a new sensation inside of you, and with a few jagged, harsh thrusts, you felt Jake cum inside of you, flooding your deepest reaches with his thick load, making your eyes snap open.
"Shit." He groaned, pulling out of you, watching as the ripped condom clung to his cock, a thick ring of white at the base as he ran a shaky hand through his hair.
"Well, now. This is a pickle." He laughed.
"Jake, you--you know that--" You sputter, groaning as you roll over to look at him.
The bastard didn't seem upset in the slightest; that cheeky little shit!
"Yeah, yeah, mamí." Jake smirked at you as he pulled the ruined condom off of his cock as he caressed one of your spread thighs idly.
"Then why aren't you--FUCK!" You wail, feeling him bottom back out in one deep thrust, your nails scraping his skin at the blinding sensation.
Jake grinned as he nipped at your throat, "Baby, whatever happens, we aren't going anywhere. Even if that means I stuff you so full--or Steven or Marc--that your belly gets all cute and round."
You whimpered and gripped at the meat of his shoulders as he started fucking into you again, blood once more rushing straight through his dick, renewing him with more energy and drive.
"I think Vicky would love a baby brother or sister, no?" He muttered out, his tongue dragging over your fluttering pulse as it hammered against your skin. "So... Why don't we give 'er one?"
"D-did y-you even a-ask M-Marc or St-Steven?!" You cried, bouncing and pushing against your pillows and blankets as he fucked you.
"Don't have to... They've fantasized about it enough already." He laughed.
His lips kiss and glide over your skin as he rips the upper part of your ensemble down, freeing your breasts to bounce free from their strappy confines as Jake whispers in your ear.
"And believe me... Marc definitely wants to fill you up, now, bebita."
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Text
Twilight Sleep
Colonel Hutcherson's blonde bombshell wife has been making waves in our small town since the moment she got off the train in a bright red pin up dress with more creamy cleavage on display than our poor farm boys had ever seen. Her sea green eyes, red lips, and shapely hips on top of the longest set of gams in stilettos to ever set foot here immediately made her gossip fodder for the bar flies and the busy bodies.
They said she couldn't buy bras off the rack because her breasts were so big. That she sent all the way to New York for her stockings. That her hair was falling out because of all the peroxide she bought to keep her hair a brilliant platinum white.
Either she already had a baby growing in that flat belly of hers when she came to town or Colonel Hutcherson put one in her right quick because it wasn't long before Ashley Hutcherson’s already obscene titties were spilling out of her tops and her belly was growing straight out like a bullet. She wore her dresses so tight the whole town knew the very day her belly button popped from an innie to an outie.
I knew Ashley, of course, because I was her OBGYN. One thing I figured out quickly is there were no thoughts behind those pretty eyes. Ashley was so dumb she could barely string a sentence together and I had to explain to her how her baby was going to come out of her tiny little fuck hole. The look of horror on her face when she realized she was going to have to push a watermelon out from between her legs was priceless.
And that was without me telling her that she had an extremely narrow pelvis and Colonel Hutcherson made such large babies his last wife had labored for 3 days to squeeze a 14 pounder out. She could barely walk for weeks and she was a regular size farm girl.
Ashley was so relieved when I told her about the miracles of twilight sleep I almost popped in my pants right there. She was delighted she’d just go to sleep and wake up with a baby, none of the mess of having to push it out. 
When the time came, Colonel Hutcherson delivered her to my home surgery when her pains were regularly five minutes apart. She was so swollen by that point she was wearing nothing but a white silk robe trimmed with lace over her shoulders. Her pretty face was screwed up in discomfort when I opened the car door to help her out.
Her eyes lit up with relief when she saw me. 
“Oh, doctor, I’m so glad to see you. I’m ready to go to sleep now. I don't like how my tummy feels. It hurts!”
She clutched my arm with one hand and her massive, straining belly with the other as we walked inside. We bid goodbye to her husband at the door and I promised to call him. Her kissed her on the cheek and told her to mind the doctor. 
She shivered when I led her into the delivery room and she spotted the steel table in the middle of the room. Her eyes went immediately to the stirrups.
“We’ll put your legs up there to help the baby come, honey, but first we have to get you ready to go to sleep.”
I coaxed her out of her robe, taking a moment to admire her dark, swollen areolas and how the baby had settled low in her elongated belly. She was so big I had to help her up on to the table. She let out a grunt of discomfort as she lay back and the full weight of her overloaded womb and her massive milk laden tits settled on her small frame.
She was pliant as I strapped her legs into the stirrups but she gasped sharply when I ran my finger through her folds. 
“Let's get you ready, Ashley.”
I didn't bother to explain what I was doing or apologize for the cold temperature of the shaving cream as I spread it over her vulva. She had just a smattering of blonde curls but I ran my razor over them anyway just to have a clean work surface.
“That's a good girl,” I reassured as Ashely moaned through a contraction while I wiped the cream and hair away. She was a groaner but she was clearly trying not to writhe too much in the stirrups.
I let her recover from the contraction while I prepared the enema supplies. When I approached her with the tip of the tube and a bit of lube, I saw fear flash across her face for the first time.
“Where's that gonna go?”
I smiled reassuringly. “We need to clean out your insides to make room for the baby.”
I slipped it in quick, shushing Ashley's yelp of protest, and allowed the warm water to start flowing. She was dumb but quickly figured out what was happening when an urgent pressure started to build in her bowels.
“Ow, ow, my belly, it's too full already! It hurts!” She rubbed the underside of her aching orb, trying to twist to the side to alleviate the pain in her gurgling gut but stopped by the straps on her ankles in the stirrups. “I feel like I need to poop, why are you doing this? Ow!”
I pressed my palm against her pelvis, rubbing firmly. She cried out in protest.
“We wouldn't want you to poop on me or your baby's head, no would we, Ashley? I can't believe you're being such a bad girl. I'm sure the Colonel told you to do as the doctor says.”
Ashley looked betrayed now, scared, in indescribable pain, exposed on a table with no way to know what was coming next or to do anything to stop it.
As if to illustrate the point a contraction gripped Ashely's roiling abdomen and she screamed, full throated, as tears streamed down her face. The agony of contracting with a full bag of warm, salty water in her ass broke any last semblance of composure and Ashley started begging me to make the pain stop.
I secured the catch bag underneath her and prepared the drugs I would need to administer twilight sleep while Ashley screamed and pleaded her way through three more contractions. I realized quickly she would need extra restraints while under because she was tossing her aching body wildly, huge tits swinging. 
When I finally removed the plug the noise the laboring woman made was so erotic I got hard instantly. It was a groan of agonized relief followed immediately by a yelp of pain when yet another contraction closed around her middle. 
Ashley was spent, legs splayed limply, her bowels empty and her ass clenching. The baby had dropped so low by this point she was starting to feel him in her aching hips. She was unimaginably full and the ordeal of the enema had taken it out of her.  After the pain passed, she gathered her composure enough to look up at me beseechingly. 
“Put me out now, please. I don’t want to hurt this bad anymore.”
I had to adjust my rock hard cocktail before moving to her side to slip my special cocktail into her IV. I stroked her face as she started blinking and nodding her head from side to side. I watched as awareness left her eyes and her mouth dropped open with a weak groan.
“Ashley?” I tapped her cheeks, moving her jaw from side to side. Her green eyes stared up without recognition. I reached down and tweaked her engorged nipple and her lips opened to emit a moan of pain.
This was my crowning, pun intended, achievement. I'd perfected a scopolamine cocktail that turns the patient’s brain to mush but leaves her aware enough to feel and respond to the pain of labor in order to be a beautiful, brain dead birthing doll for my and my patron's pleasure.
I left Ashely lying on the bed, contracting now about every three minutes and really feeling it, measuring by her noises, to make a phone call. Then I put an oxygen cannula under her nose, cleaned her up between her legs, checked her dilation, and wrapped her wrists and ankles in towels so there wouldn't be any questions about bruises. 
When John Hutcherson arrived, he looked as eager to get the night started as I was. We'd met during the war when I served as the chief medical officer of his battlefield command. We found out one pregnant local girl later that we shared some frowned upon predilections and now, ten years and a lifetime of experience later, we partake of his wealth and my medical genius as often as we can without raising suspicions.
It's John's wife so, of course, he gets to go first and however he likes. He loses his pants quickly after he walks in and sees her strapped spread eagle, her arms straight out and tied to the table and her legs secured in stirrups. She's screaming through a contraction and oblivious to our presence.
John moves on her like an animal in heat, plunging his generous, throbbing member into her exposed, dilating cunt without any preamble. She shouts as she is brutally and unexpectedly skewered on his cock while a contraction is still ripping through her. He doesn't give her even a moment before he starts pistoning in and out of her so hard her back is slapping up and down on the steel table.
Her titties bounce lewdly, slapping from side to side atop her grotesquely swollen belly, as he rails her with all his strength. I finally go up and hold Ashley’s head to keep in from hitting the table due to the force of her husband’s pounding. Her leaking green eyes are filled with fear and pain but it’s also clear the struggling woman isn’t capable of understanding what’s happening to her. Her world has narrowed to the pain and fullness in her tits, hips, and cunt, and as far as she is concerned, it’s never ending. 
Hutcherson blows his first load when she has an especially hard contraction on his cock. He lets out a surprised gasp and then he’s jerking as he’s milked by his wife’s laboring uterus. Their cries blend in the air, one of utter pain and the other of blissful pleasure. 
When he’s finally able to pull out, his flagging cock plops loose with a squelching sound. His cum mixed with blood and amniotic fluid floods out of her and on to the cloth below. 
The brutal pounding leaves Ashley listless and moaning with a little bit of drool making its way down her chin. It’s part of the beauty of the drug that even though she’s blasted out of her mind, her body is going to push the baby out no matter what. 
Over the next several hours, we take turns playing with her engorged nipples, sucking them to induce contractions. John sticks his hand up her through a couple, shivering with arousal when she cries out and tries to get away from the intrusion. Eventually her agonized sounds change to desperate screeches as transition hits and the contractions become longer and unbearable. We each dip into her a few times while she endures the most painful part of labor and both barely keep from cumming when she clamps down on our dicks and wails. 
It takes her hours to get the baby down but it’s huge in her tiny pelvis and when it gets lodged in her hips, she starts vocalizing low, loud grunts as her body tries to expel the huge head. I almost blew my load too soon when I wedged my dick up against her massive stomach and rolled her hips side to side to help urge the huge load down. 
She screamed bloody murder when it finally crowned and John held it there for a good long while, stroking her engorged clit and easing the head out so she didn’t tear. The body was huge, however, and we had to put her legs as far back as we could to help her deliver the shoulders. Her cries of pain echoed off the walls as I roughly jerked the rest of the body out of her sore cunny. A huge flood of liquid shot out of her bloody slit and she was left with her pussy bared, gaped open and dripping birth fluid. 
I handed the baby off to my loyal nurse who maintained the nursery in the next room and turned back to my friend. He was hard a rock, stroking his wife’s ruined cunny. She was still visibly hurting, both from the sheer size of what just came out and the after birth contractions. 
I climbed on top of the beg, squatted over her deflated belly, and put my dick in between her massive tits. Behind me John let out an erotic groan as he sunk his massive length deep into his wife’s loose, bleeding pussy. It made a nasty squelching sound when he pulled all the way back out and slammed back in as hard as he could. He proceeded to brutally rail his wife’s post birth pussy and I came all over her tits while she flopped up and down on the bed, screaming from the pain. 
The next time I saw Lucy, she was back in her white silk robe, a 17lb baby suckling at her ample breast. She’d reapplied her lipstick but her eyes were bloodshot and she looked like she’d been through hell. She woke up initially screaming about the pain in her pussy and she was still sitting awkwardly, an ice pack on her bruised and throbbing sex. 
That being said, she was thrilled she didn’t remember a single bit of it. She thanked me profusely and told her husband she wanted me to deliver all of her babies. Once her poor little cunny healed, of course. 
Josh and I shared a look over her head. We were already counting down to Ashley’s next labor and delivery. 
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macsimagines · 11 months
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Imagine how Kanto Mikey, Kazutora, and Shinichiro would react if their usually nervous S/O came onto them for once? Would they let them lead or would they immediately take over?
The Kanto brain rot is real…
NSFW below the cut MINORS DNI
Yandere!Kanto Mikey
He knows he scares you. It makes him sad so he keeps touching you to a minimum. He tries to at least. He still needs his hugs and kisses...
But now, with you crawling onto his lap? Well hes curious... He lets you lead with your shy kisses, can feel you peeling his jacket off slowly and the timid way you rub your pussy on his clothed dick.
Poor baby. You tried so hard. Let him take over and reward you.
Flips your positions suddenly and has you underneath him, his hands pulling your thighs apart. "Such a sweet thing, let me have a taste, ya?"
Yandere!Kazutora
Kills him to let you try and lead but you're so shy baby! This feels like a huge mile stone! You willingly went down on him. Makes sure to sing your praises.
"Fuck! Y/N~ so good baby, fuck ya, lick it just like-! Fuck!"
Doesn't let you lead for more than a few sucks before he's pulling you off and licking the precum from your lips.
"Make me feel so good, my pretty girl," He whimpers ripping your pants open and moving your panties out of his way, "Lets feel good together, ya?"
Yandere!Shinichiro
Lets you lead all you want, until you ask him to take over. Loves the way you're trying to bounce on his cock, but he's big baby he knows its too much for his poor little girl.
Licks his lips and watches your tiny pussy try to inch him in, doesn't like it when you cry but does love the way your cheeks flush..
"Puh-please," You beg unable to go any further without his help, "C-can't go d-down all the wa-AH-way,"
He doesn't let you get one more whimper in before he's grabbing your hips and forcing you all the way down. Watches the way your eyes roll back and just smiles. "Anything for my baby~."
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thedevilsoftruth · 7 months
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Had a weird dream last night that Marc Spector was in my room, and I was writing smut about him and Big Man With A Gun by Nine Inch Nails was playing on my cd player. Now I just can't stop thinking of the lyrics, " shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, I'm gonna come all over you. " So, here I present to you, some of my horniest Marc Spector head canons.
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He really likes to grab your thighs. He likes to grab them when you're sitting next to him, you know... just for the fuck of it. Whenever you're in the car with him, he'll reach over for your thigh and just kind of grab it. He won't say anything and just kind of let it happen, slowly making his way for your inner thigh until you make a comment on it. When you do, he'll act like he's confused as a way to mess with you.
Marc loves to praise you alright, but sometimes he can't just hold back his feelings for you. It's like everything just becomes too much for him and he just can't be nice to you.
" Gonna fucking rip you apart. " he'll snarl, grasping your neck and shaking you a bit. You would be grabbing his wrist, your poor little face scrunching up while he penetrates you like you're a little toy. His little toy.
He can't contain himself when you're sitting on his lap. Mmm, how pretty that little dress of yours looks on you... he bets it'd look better off of you. His lips will latch on your neck, and he'll breathe into your warm skin.
" Mm baby, I think we might need a room." His strong hands will rub your thighs, and he'll continue giving you tiny love bites on your soft skin until you agree.
He likes to start off a bit slow. maybe play with your nipples through your top and watch them become hard. Or maybe he'll start with a little foreplay? He'll rip off your clothes one by one and have you sit on his lap, move you around a bit and then sink his greedy fingers into your entrance. He wants to make sure you can also feel him become hard underneath you, and also wants to make sure you're begging for that hardness.
" Marc, please.. I can't handle it anymore. " you'll moan quietly while he's curling those two thick fingers into the perfect spot.
" Keep begging like that, baby. Tell me how much you need it, baby. " he'll respond, his face nuzzling in the crook of your neck.
Marc is also a bit of a rigger. I'll leave it at that.
God, he just needs to see you underneath him, eyes rolling into the back of your head, lips wet and plump from biting them too much and slipping out broken moans and cries for him to never stop.
He'll say things to try and get you on, dirty things he'd never picture himself saying. " my little slut, in shambles underneath me like this.. " and, " Aw, does my precious baby need more? Mm, I'll give her more. I'll give her all of it. " He just wants to make a pure mess out of you, craves to see you all fucked up becuase of him. Just for him.
And when he's done with you, he'll either finish in you or on you.
" God, so perfect. My perfect little girl. " he'll purr, combing your hair back with his hands and giving your forehead a kiss. But even after everything, theres just something about the look of you all fucked out of your mind with his seed all over ( or in ) you. He's unable to wait for next time he can see you like that.
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verahella · 6 months
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❆ ₊ ⊹ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 — 𝐈. 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈 ⊹₊ ❆
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yuji happily adds more marshmallows, oblivious to the side eye you give him.
“yuji, i think we’re supposed to add only one.”
“but he’s lonely! we need to give him friends, right?”
when presented with such brilliant logic, of course you couldn’t argue.
you shrug, watching his pout turn into a big smile. “thank you, you’re the best!” he presses a kiss to your cheek before going back to adding ten more marshmallows, decorating them like tiny snowmen with great care.
you don’t have the heart to tell him that they’ll probably tip over and get deformed in the hot liquid.
you glance down at the cookbook.
the cookies in the picture look delicious, cracks in the soft yet crunchy texture decorated with chocolate chips. a side of warm milk and you’re sure you’ll be entering heaven.
your mouth waters at the sight of them but then the oven’s timer goes off and all of a sudden, you don’t feel very inclined to try any cookies (lest you get food poisoning.)
yuji, however, rushes to take them out and and his excitement floats over to you as you reluctantly follow him.
“here.” you hand him the mittens before he could burn himself and he places the tray on the kitchen counter, stars sparkling in his eyes.
yuji brings out two icing pipes from god knows where, pointing them like guns at the cookies. “agent [name], it’s time to get to work.”
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the counter and your boyfriend’s face are a mess. there’s buckets of frosting smeared on both and the floor is covered with sprinkles that snuck into every nook and cranny of your apartment but the job is finally done.
you stare at the tray. variations of misshapen christmas trees, reindeers and santa claus stare back at you.
yuji, of course, is elated. he hooks an arm around your shoulders and pulls you to his side, gushing, “look! they’re our babies!”
“mhm.” if you had santa claus with a malicious smile on a melting face as your baby, you’d give him up for adoption. or do one better and chuck him into a furnace.
you told yuji that you could just buy cookies from the bakery that nanami recommended but nooo, ‘i want to eat the cookies that we made with love, [name].’
the thought softens you a little bit and you bump your cookie against his, “cheers.” you suppose you could deal with food poisoning if it was for yuji.
anyway, it’s true that you had made them with love and so, how bad could they be?
crunch.
okay, really bad. you chew thoughtfully on the rock hard cookie—if it could even be called that. each bite breaks some of your teeth and the sickly sweet of the icing reminds you of eating a spoonful of sugar.
you look over to find that yuji’s smile slowly fades away and if you were more kind, you would have tried harder to control your laugh.
“they taste worse than gojo sensei’s croissants.”
“that’s an exaggeration.” you hand him a can of whipped cream. he gladly accepts, opening his mouth wide and spraying cream worth half of the can into his mouth.
“maybe we shouldn’t have used up all of the chocolate chips.” he manages out through a mouthful of whipped cream. at least if you had them, you wouldn’t have had to starve for dinner today.
“it’s okay. that’s why we made these.” you hand him the cup of hot chocolate he made, popping in two candy canes. he adds in two straws, looking at you with rekindled excitement in his eyes, “i saw couples drinking it like this so we can share one too!”
“pathetic,” a deep voice interferes, “you creatures are absolutely pathetic.”
the eyes on yuji’s cheek judge the decapitated santa on the cookie tray. “i’m sure even my fingers taste better than whatever that is.”
yuji smacks his cheek and like a mosquito, sukuna dodges and appears on his other cheek, snickering. yuji looks at you like a kicked puppy.
“aw, my poor baby.” you coo at his expression, patting his cheek. of course you can’t resist him when his eyes turn glossy and his lower lip juts out like that. you lean up to kiss yuji’s cheek, only to be met with a pair of smirking lips.
“sukuna!!”
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kithtaehyung · 2 years
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starry night (m) | jjk
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title: starry night pairing: jungkook x reader(f) rating/genre: m(18+) ; fluff , smut ; established relationship, gamer au summary: all you wanted to do was take your boyfriend on a super late date. warnings: fluff, language, a tiny bit of overwatch lingo, thigh riding, a cute ass date :’)), fingering, penetration, protected sex, tit play if you squint, spanking, they’re both competitive af, hickies, praise, body worship, self-conscious reader argh, multiple orgasms, jk has a big dick but what’s new!!, tatted jk is a warning in itself, koo is a softie for his baby girl :(((, idk this really is just soft smut lmfao note: this is for all the koo lovers out there! also, this is a revamp from the last version bc that one was a version i wasn’t entirely happy with :’)) can’t even describe how much happier i am with this now dsjklf if you’ve read it or not, hope you like the newest version and happy jk day! drop date: september 1st, 2022, 9am est total word count: 7k
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“One more game, okay?”
From your spot in the doorway, you wait as your boyfriend pushes half of a clearly worn down headset aside.
“What did you say, babe?”
“One more game!” Giggling at his befuddled expression, you surge on, “Then get dressed. There’s somewhere we have to be.”
Jungkook glances at his monitor before shifting meaningful eyes back toward you, stoic. Very, very stoic.
“It’s 2am.”
You wave off the obvious reluctance. This is something you'd been planning for a week, ever since you read that damn article on your phone.
“Seems so,” you decide to tease instead. “Just let me know when you’re ready!”
In a rush, you bound back into the hallway—the door left wide open in your springy wake. Judging by the yell followed by a quick grunt, you assume he got thrown into another match before he could scold you properly.
Perfect. You have time to get everything ready.
Excitement fizzles along your bones as you scramble around the apartment, gathering things in your arms.
Do you have the date and time right? Yes. Are you absolutely sure that your boyfriend is going to slink out of his cave? Probably.
Well.
He’s coming along this time, whether he likes it or not. So no matter what his response is, you’re gonna make it a yes.
But your answer arrives a mere ten minutes later, sweats and three layers of clothing swallowing its form.
“Wait, that was quick,” you observe. “Were there leavers?”  
“Two on our side,” he complains, frustration tugging his beanie down a little too far. "So boring.”
“Lame. Well, you can queue again after we get back from our date.” Snatching a blanket off the leaning pile next to your couch, you join Jungkook in the entryway.
But it’s only then that you realize something’s missing. “Oh, wait. Lemme get one more thing.”
While you poke your head in multiple rooms and rummage, your boyfriend continues his whining, “This date couldn’t wait until tomorrow? It’s freezing outside.”
Oh, it absolutely cannot. Not this time.
Offering a look of pity from a doorway, you sigh, “It really can’t.” You go back to your search, voice wrapping around the walls and furniture, “And we have a ways to go, so. You can sleep in the car if you want.”
His poor tone raises in pitch a couple pegs, “How long is this gonna take?”
“You’ll see!” Finally victorious, you secure the outdoor pillow you wanted—remembering it haphazardly flung into the dining nook during an impromptu pillow fight—and rejoin your boyfriend at the door. Flicking his nose with your free hand, you chuckle, “Always so impatient.”
The pout you receive is almost crushing, but you have to push forward.
However, as soon as you open your front door, you definitely think about chickening out.
Jungkook’s absolutely correct.
It’s bitingly cold outside.
“Shit, babe,” he winces, and you throw him an apologetic glance. “Are you sure you’re okay going?”
You nod while stepping out first, too affected by the chill to verbally reply. After you lock the door behind you both, you frantically follow him in a stilted race to your car.
Why does it have to be freezing? Why couldn’t you have gotten this idea during spring? Or summer!
Gritting your chattering teeth, you envy everyone in possession of a car with automatic-start.
But your jealousy is swiftly smothered, your boyfriend’s half-jog, half-hop form of travel pulling laughter from your throat instead of grumbles. With his puffed jacket swallowing his whole top half, he’s not far off from resembling a skittering ball of boba, and you can’t help but grin until your cheeks burn as much as your ears.
Your happy breath coalesces into the wind in soft tendrils. Even now, when it’s decidedly frigid, Jungkook somehow finds a way to keep you warm.
Just like he always does.
Goddamn, you love him. Though thrusting the two of you into near-subzero conditions in the dead of night may imply the opposite.
Regardless, you don’t have much of a way to go. After all, you had been meticulous in your planning, your vehicle a noble steel steed occupying the closest spot in the lot.
When you both settle inside with rapid puffing and shivering, you toss your pile of date items onto Jungkook’s lap. “Close your eyes for me, okay? You can’t know where we’re going.”
“Seriously?” He frowns in earnest now, shoulders knocking against his ears. “This feels more like an attack than a date.”
But despite his complaints, your boyfriend shifts the bedding in his possession before obeying, kicking his head back on the headrest and shutting his eyes. When you look over, you notice he’s already comfortable, arms slung around the pillow and blanket draped over his still legs.
There is still a downward slump to his lips, though. And while you can’t blame him, you still giggle because you know what’s coming. “Just trust me, babe. I’m sure you’ll like this place.”
Ugh. His tiny pout is still your favorite. “I bet not. But since you’re driving...”
After you pull out of your spot, a smirk carves into your features. “Bet for real, then,” you goad, tempting his competitive spirit. “If I win, you spend the whole night with me.”
It doesn’t work.
Without opening his eyes, Jungkook frowns with his whole face. “It’s the end of the comp season! I’m already pushing it not playing now.”
“Love the confidence, Kookie,” you chirp. “If I lose, I’ll never tear you away from your precious gaming chair again.”
A single sigh serves as his white flag of surrender. “Deal.”
And you don’t miss the grin in his tone.
Because if he’s thinking the same thing you are, he’s remembering the night you gifted him the damn thing.
Neither of you left that chair for awhile.
Finally, the car warms comfortably, and the accompanying music has you bopping your head and drumming gloved fingers on the wheel.
Jungkook’s melodic singing proves indicative of his content—a sign that he isn’t entirely against your mysterious scheme.
Scheme? More like a calculated risk. Either way, you can tell Jungkook’s interest is decidedly piqued, and it’s enough to make you even more thrilled.
Knowing the directions to the location by heart, you take necessary and unnecessary turns, twisting and winding through the city streets. Whether these cheeky moves throw your annoyingly observant boyfriend off or not, you can’t say for sure.
Regardless, you make sure that the trip is much longer than it needs to be.
Checking the time on your phone, you figure five songs is a good enough length of time to keep driving. So you finally decide to arrive.
When your destination comes into view, you roll into a parking spot and announce—proudly—“We’re here!”
As soon as Jungkook opens his eyes to survey the area, confusion mingles with relief across his whole demeanor, his brows moving in a stilted dance.
Reaching a breaking point, he outright laughs. “Seriously?”
The only thing you can do is cackle at his reaction.
You’re right back at your apartment complex, after all.
“Technically, this isn’t exactly where I wanted us to go,” you explain, smiling even harder at your boyfriend’s conflicting emotions.
You know he doesn’t really go out, and you knew that not giving him much to go on was going to frustrate him. But you thought of this idea and wanted to attempt it, since you both at least liked trying new things.
It’s so endearing to see him relieved that you’re home. But your date isn’t quite located somewhere inside. “We’re gonna hang out on the roof tonight.”
A blip of hesitation flashes across his eyes. “It’s even colder up there,” he notes, back to being the boy that didn’t wanna leave in the first place.
“It’ll be worth it! But we have to hurry, or else we’ll miss it.” You scramble out of the car without another word, and groan when Jungkook blatantly takes his time to get out of the passenger seat—slow, unhurried, annoying. “Oh my god, babe!”
“Okay, okay.”
“Follow me.”
The pair of you rush to get to the roof of your building—not without a barrage of complaints from him as you keep discovering stairs—and choose a spot to lay the blanket and pillow out. Lying down, you shuffle as close to your boyfriend as your puffy jackets allow.
You made it on time.
You think.
Crap, did you?
At least the wind isn’t too harsh tonight. This truly would’ve been a nice experience regardless if it wasn’t exceedingly and utterly cold.
But no matter.
Because above you, the sky is vast, and majestic, and speckled with tiny pinpricks of light. Not normally able to observe the universe at its fullest, you take in the current night with amazement, mouth opening in surprise as it claims your entire vision.
And you aren’t the only one steeped in wonder.
Beside you, Jungkook exhales, his awe leaving him in wisps. “Wow.”
“You like it?”
“This is nice.”
“It’ll get better,” you hope, recalling the article you based this entire night around. “Should be in just a moment.”
And you couldn’t have been more timely.
On cue, a wintry meteor shower graces the skies. Streaks of white, orange, and yellow soar across the dark expanse—tiny light trails carving bright, uncharted roads through an indigo ocean.
And the cold only makes this mesmerizing procession more memorable. Both of your bodies remain frozen, subtly forced to focus solely on the spectacle overtaking your eyes.
Extraordinary. Stellar.
Fully enraptured, you almost forget to gauge your boyfriend’s reaction.
So when you drink in his appearance, your heart flutters so rapidly that it threatens to collapse or burn out like a dying star.
All the celestial bodies congregate in his orbs, the meteors from above suddenly swimming in his pupils and sparkling across his irises.
Does he really encapsulate more in his soul than what exists in the heavens?
How is that even possible?
Your breath hitches without your permission, and you aren’t sure if it’s the weather that coaxes tears from your eyes or your love for the boy gasping skyward.
When Jungkook turns to face you, you know the answer is both.
Noticing your features, he simply smiles. One cheek is wiped. Then the other.
“I win,” you proclaim in a cracked voice, and he only laughs and tugs you in for a crushing hug.
“You win.”
Immersed in his warmth, you allow more tears to fall sideways, your adoration sliding straight into the rough material of his jacket.
There isn’t another place in the world you want to be, no other marriage of latitude and longitude that can coerce your bones. Curling your fingers around his coat, you whisper,
“But seriously, this is all I wanted to show you. You can go back to playing when we get back inside.”
“Look at me.”
Tilting your head, you aren’t allowed a second to think before soft lips descend upon yours, conveying everything from gratitude to love in the span of seconds. Before you can respond in kind, your boyfriend pulls back, his voice a plush tenor as he explains,
“A win is a win.”
“But you said—”
Another peck halts your tiny excuse.
“There’s always next season,” he murmurs, nudging your chilly nose with his own. “And I didn’t know you were showing me this.”
Thankful, you sigh, “Okay. Well, let’s go back inside, at least.” Attempting to sit up, you get tugged back down in a blankety heap. “What!”
“The meteor shower! Is there more?”
“Oh. No,” you sigh. “It’s already over.”
“Aw, man! Really?” Jungkook flops back to scan the galaxy again, as if some blazing trails would still be lingering in the dark.
Huffing out a laugh, you admire his childlike wonder, never wanting it to leave him behind.
“That was so cool.”
“It was,” you agree, getting to your feet. “I read about it last week. I figured you’d like it.”
Beaming up at you, your boyfriend gathers the blanket and pillow under his arm before standing, cradling one of your gloved hands in his sure fingers. “I like anything with you,” he admits, reserved in his expression but confident in his words.
And even though your body’s frozen, your heart is positively melting.
“Good thing, then.” You chuckle as you both approach the stairwell door, deciding to test his statement, “I’ll remember that when I ask you to knit with me.”
“Uhh.” Jungkook simply offers a cocked brow. “Warning you now. Don’t get mad when I end up better than you.”
“I have smaller fingers. You’re never gonna surpass me.”
“Maybe I already know how to knit.”
“Prove it.”
Jungkook yanks the ponderous exit open, holding it for you to pass through first. “When grandmas love you, do you ever have to prove anything?”
Tossing a disgruntled look over your shoulder, you scoff, “That’s not fair! Grandmas love you anyways.”
There’s a flash of teeth when he giggles at your glowing accusation. Rolling your eyes, you decide to catch him unawares. “But whatever. You know what I’m better at?”
“Mm, coming in second?”
“Running down stairs.”
Bursting into a sprint, you hightail it down the metal steps, chortling at the whiny shouts behind your descending form.
Down, down, down. Turn after turn.
Holy shit, how many flights are there?
You counted four on the ascent but it feels like a miscount at that moment. Your boots squeak with every stride, the stairwell thrumming with the two of you tearing through its indents.
Jungkook’s heavy shoes paired with the floofy baggage should slow him down, but his determination seems to grant him an extra boost. Hauling yourself forward, you expend every last drop of energy to reach the bottom floor first, huffing and puffing your victory brag when you achieved your goal.
A few steps behind, Jungkook breathily accuses, “Chea—”
“And the score is two to zero!” You abruptly cheer as you pompously shove the building door aside, steamrolling his wrong words with raised arms.
“Maybe I will go and queue again,” Jungkook teases behind you, earning an instant mini-grovel. At your whiplash display of emotions, he blows out a laugh, admitting,
“I’m kidding. But don’t test me.”
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Your apartment is just in reach. Still breathing hard from the long descent, you retrieve your keys, hearing them jangle before you slot them into the door.
As much as you enjoyed your short-lived date, it’s nice to be back inside. The pair of you shuck off your coats and winter accessories as soon as you cross the threshold, both winded and thinking of the stellar event.
A stark difference in temperature, the warmth inside only tickles your iced cheeks. Slipping off your boots, you place yours next to Jungkook’s on the front mat before ambling to the living room.
It’s absurdly late, but the adrenaline from your sudden competition has you firmly alert.
Good. You’re sure to crash beautifully in about thirty minutes.
Puffed cushions greet you as you plop onto the sofa, and you curl your legs while waiting for your boyfriend to join. Your fuzzy sweater bunches around your waist, and you tut as you tug it back down, still self-conscious even after all these years with his assurances.
Light humming wafts from the entrance, and you simply bask in the soft notes, serene. 
While you consider yourself pretty average in the choir department, your boyfriend truly is otherworldly. Your affection has reached the point where you’re thoroughly convinced he was a siren in his past life - or at least the reason behind those myths.
Tugging off the last of his overshirts, Jungkook joins you with only a simple tee. You shamelessly admire the way his chest and arms resist the material - and the way his waist does not.
Dumping himself by your side, he rests his fluffy head on your shoulder, and your body’s response is to hum on contact. “What now, miss two-zero,” he queries, giggling when you scoff.
“I dunno.” You lay your head on his, feeling the silkiness of his dark locks on your thawing cheeks. “I honestly thought you were gonna go back to playing, so. I didn’t make any other plans.”
Tenderly, you place a kiss on his crown of hair, your lips straying a beat after.
When he visibly perks up, you immediately know that, despite being holed up in that damn game room all week, Jungkook missed your touch significantly. 
Which is perfect. Because you’ve been wanting his, too.
His eyes lift, traces of stars and diamonds embedded within their depths. Flitting his gaze to your lips, he seems temporarily spaced - a look he had been wearing recently. It’s like he has something he wants to say, but either has the words jammed in his throat or not there at all.
If he didn’t melt at your touch, this definitely would be where you started to worry. Instead, you’re just downright concerned.
“What, baby,” you whisper, slipping right into a sigh as a strong hand cradles your neck and smooth lips connect with your curiosity.
Jungkook takes his time, lazily kissing you as if he was destined for nothing else in existence.
And you respond, matching his relaxed strokes and letting him skip over the subject. Even as he lowers your bodies onto familiar cushions, you’re okay if you talk about it later.
Besides. You’re most definitely crashing soon.
This man will make sure of that.
Bunching your hands in his shirt, you tug him a tad closer, sighing through his hot breaths when you feel his chiseled weight on your stomach.  
Leaving your wet and pouting lips, he only smiles before pecking your forehead, stilling in a delicate pause before dragging his nose across your countenance to kiss both cheeks.
And you can only shudder under his tenderness. In an attempt to hide—bashful nature taking over—you duck your head into the safety of his neck. 
But you can’t run for long because Jungkook swoops in to reclaim your lips, the sudden move causing heat to swirl between your thighs and desire to fill your pupils. “Kookie.”
“Yes, baby girl,” he answers, a tiny trail of saliva between your mouths as he pulls away.
Your response comes out a sigh, “Nothing.” Reaching up to shift a long bang out of his face, you drink in his beauty, never running out of sips. “I just love you.”
Grinning, Jungkook’s eyes twinkle as he proudly reciprocates, “I love you, too.” He hauls his body up before taking one of your hands. “Come here.”
Wordlessly, you acquiesce for your self-proclaimed siren, letting him lure you from the couch to embark on a telltale journey to your bedroom—depths you would endlessly dive.
Glancing at your conjoined hands, you roam your eyes over his veiny forearms, admiring the ink on his canvas. Your favorite work of art. No museum in the world was worthy enough.
Jungkook turns in the doorway before pulling you close, bending to capture your lips in a shockingly heated kiss. Jerking your arms up to hold his biceps, you bury your digits into his muscles, dragging them hard the way he loves so much.
And it awakens a sleeping beast: inked fingers clawing at your pants.
“You want them off, baby?” When you receive a nod in response, you pause your movements to slip out of the material, letting your bottoms puddle around your feet.
Without warning, Jungkook dives in to lather your neck with hot breaths, wordlessly letting you know he wants the sweater gone next.
And, without fail, you resist and want to keep it on.
“You’re so beautiful,” your boyfriend mutters into your skin, fighting off those familiar thoughts he knows lurk in your conscience. “You don’t ever have to hide from me.”
“I know, but...”
“It’s okay.”
As he leads you both to your comforting bed, you melt into his increasingly searing nips and sucks, moaning as his tongue licks all the way up to your ear.
“We can make you feel good first.”
You don’t even register Jungkook sitting on the edge until your underwear comes in contact with his sweats, his erection rigid against your soft sex.
How can he get hard so quickly? How does this happen, time after time? He always blames you, but you never quite believe him. Then again, you never get enough time to—
A deep chuckle rumbles within his ribcage as he repositions you, body hovering over one of his thighs. His gorgeous, upsettingly tight thighs. 
Teasingly, he asks, "This is where you like it, huh?”
“Yes,” you admit in a moan, wasting no time in sliding your slick core over his pants. “I like this.” 
A hand comes up to slap your ass, and you buck forward on his leg when he rasps out, “Show me how much you do.” 
Unsurprisingly, your underwear proves thoroughly soaked already, and you call yourself a hypocrite for wondering how Jungkook manages to get turned on so fast. 
Under your boyfriend’s lidded observance, you only want to grind hard, with purpose. The friction you want exists in his bulging muscle, rubbing against your covered clit with each thrust, and you can’t help but squeeze yourself around his leg. Harder, tighter, stronger.
Drinking in your movements, Jungkook parts his lips, tensing his thigh at the perfect moment and chuckling darkly when you react.
“Don’t be shy,” he murmurs. “Wanna hear you, too.”
Mewling, you clasp your hands around the back of his neck, rolling your hips repeatedly and wordlessly thanking your boyfriend for working out so often. Fuck, just his thigh is almost enough to make you come. The tautness feels delicious under your clit, and sighs cascade out of your mouth like pretty waterfalls.
“God,” he groans, finally lifting your sweater and yanking it off your raised arms. When he realizes you opted not to wear a bra underneath your thin shirt, he kicks his head back in agony. “Fuck, baby.”
“Mmhmm,” you agree with a nod of your head. Biting your lip, you rejoin your hands behind his neck and continue to swivel your hips, clenching your thighs around his when your bundle of nerves hits just right. “Feels so good,” you gasp, your breath ragged and steeped in hunger.
“I know.” Your boyfriend tugs your shirt up until your breasts are freed, mouth encircling a nipple and sucking with a lick.
Fuck! Want gushes from your center as he admires your chest—each lick, each suck, each swirl of his tongue—soaking through your underwear and staining liquid white on his pants.
More.
You need a lot more.
Your core aches for a deeper intrusion and you both know it. “Kook,” you whimper, pressing your sweaty forehead to his. “I can’t. I need you.”
“Then lift up for me, love,” he responds, lightly patting one plump side of your ass.
Obeying, you release a drawn out moan as you feel him slide your panties over before one of his deft fingers slips into your folds. Rubbing your clit slow, he collects your sweet juices before lodging his digit in your cunt.
Fucking hell, he knows your body better than you do.
But of course he does. The times before have made him an expert. All those beautiful, tender, countless times before.
Watching your little jumps and tweaks seems to bring him joy, eyes alight with hunger for your pleasure. Inserting another finger, he starts to pump them in a steady rhythm until you felt that hidden spring in your body tighten alarmingly quick.
Shit! There’s no way you’re gonna come so soon, is there? Is there? 
“Baby, I’m close,” you whisper in warning anyway, forehead hot and perspiration starting to coat your face. “You’re too good at this, fuck.”
“Come then, baby,” he coaxes with a smile.
You snap your lust-heavy eyes to his. “You sure?”
“Promise.” His smile tilts to the side as his confidence drips from the corners. “I’ll just make you come again.”
Fuck.
Chasing your high in earnest, your sticky thighs burn as you launch into a quick pace, outright fucking his hand as his slippery digits show no mercy. Your essence leaks out from between his fingers to stain your thighs, but you can’t think about anything else other than release. Release release release.
And it consumes you whole in an instant. Strong. Pulsing. Endless. 
Swallowed by your high, you barely register Jungkook’s hushed praise and encouragement. Pleasure is the only thing you know as it surges through you, twisting across your locked limbs and leaving you weightless, elevated, teetering on the edge of a precipice.
Only the sight of your boyfriend licking his fingers clean is your sole, solid grasp on reality.
Because oh. That’s you he’s licking off his fingers.
Why does that always make you feel both turned on and embarrassed all at once?
Slumping forward into the crux of his shoulder, you inhale the heady scent that mingles with his cologne. “Holy shit, I think I saw stars.”
A breathy laugh cascades down your back. “Mm, let’s make that two-one then.”
“You would still keep score,” you huff, dragging your lips across his sweaty skin before attaching them to the base of his neck. As soon as your heated mouth latches on, Jungkook grants you better access, his reaction coming out in a low groan.
Taking the opening, you lick a trail up his column to his ear, sucking on his pulse once you venture back down. Feeling him sigh beneath you creates an urge, and you nip at his skin with more force than usual.
Arms tighten at your sides with a hiss. “Baby, yes.”
You alternate between nips and sucks along his smooth neck, imagining how beautiful it would be if he got it inked, too. Sliding your burning tongue up the shell of his ear, you bite down before pouring praises inside.
To your delight, Jungkook’s cock twitches on your thigh.
Humming, you ask with glee, “Did we find something you like, too?”
“Not sure.” He hisses again. “May need further tes—Fuck.”
You chuckle with joy as you lick his pulsing ear, the skin bright and angry from the torturous nick you just inflicted.
Experimenting and learning Jungkook’s body is something you will never tire of. It remains one of your favorite hobbies, and will stay that way for a wonderfully long time.
Worked up, your boyfriend finally yanks his shirt off, pulling you back in for a searing kiss when it’s thrown onto your laundry chair. Molding yourself into him, your nipples scrape his bare skin—the friction creating another set of swells in your core.
Hugging you close, Jungkook softly falls back onto your bed, keeping you aloft his rippling abdomen. Finally stretching out your legs, you feel relief in your thighs, wincing at the burn from strenuous use. 
Goddamn, you’ll be surprised if you can walk to the next room when everything is over. 
Jungkook isn’t privy to your thoughts. In this new position, he slips your underwear off before grabbing your ass, marveling at its plush curves like he’s never touched you before.
“You see it everyday, Kook,” you murmur between unhurried kisses.
“I do...” He presses his pelvis into yours, his hardened length sliding torturously against your dripping core. Your mewl harmonizes with his groan before he sighs, “But it’s just so perfect.”
You want him. You want him now.
Despite already reaching the summit, you’d plummeted back down and vow to climb again. “I’m still in a shirt and you’re still in pants,” you complain. “Take them off.”
Beneath you, Jungkook’s laugh reverberates through your chest. “You’re the one that held my thigh hostage!”
“Yes, and?”
“It was hot as fuck.”
“Exactly. Hurry up!”
“Okay, okay!” He huffs out a laugh. “Grab a condom then.”  
Puffing, you push yourself up before slipping out of your already rumpled shirt. Chucking it as close to the laundry chair as you can—both of you humming in pride when it actually gets there—you start crawling across the bed to reach one of the nightstands.
“Ow,” you heave out, met with another light chortle. “My thighs.”
You hear the shuffling of clothes behind you as you retrieve a package from the drawer, sliding it shut before dropping your body in a tired heap.
Damn. There’s a lot of ground to cover between you and him. How the hell are you gonna get over there?
Deciding on the easiest course of action, you literally roll toward your unconcerned boyfriend until you mush into his muscular, bare form. “Hey,” you puff. “Feel sorry for me.”
As he situates himself on an elbow, your boyfriend’s lips mush just to keep a laugh from escaping. But he fails massively, his outburst above your nose causing his eyes to crinkle.
“That was the cutest shit I’ve ever seen.”
Pouting and trying to ignore the tingling you feel, you slap the condom wrapper against his chest. “Those stairs took a lot out of me. My thighs are officially tapping out for the night.”
Long fingers still on the metallic packaging. “Did you still want to keep going?”
“What? Duh.”
“Oh, okay. Just making sure.”
Tilting your head and smoothing out the covers underneath, you lament, “We haven’t even started on you yet.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Bending down to plant a heartwarming kiss on your forehead, Jungkook only smiles. “This is about you. I’m already happy.”
“Ugh, stop,” you whine, reaching down to take his velvety cock in your fingers. “Don’t be lame.”
“Babe.” A stern look darts your way and, after you hum in curiosity, he cocks a brow. “You literally made us get in a car so you could drive us back home.”
Laughing in earnest, you quickly admit defeat. “Damn, you got me.”
Your mirth is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips as he descends, an overwhelming appetite for everything you can offer. Pushing his cock further into your palm, his kiss deepens just as much.
His length always feels so weighty in your hand—so comforting, so familiar. But even in its smooth familiarity, you’ve never, ever gotten tired of pleasuring him. You were sure you could stay in and rub his cock until your arm fell off—or if he asked, sucked on it until he begged you to stop.
But he doesn’t ask for either of those things in that moment—solely focused on exploring your heated mouth until he maps it all. Jungkook really is orbiting around you and you alone, and you want to gift him the universe in return.
Relishing in the smoothness of his limbs and feeling safe in the embrace of his build, you stroke him in earnest—pulses in your core in sync with every groan you tug from his throat.
Suddenly, feverish lips leave you chilled.
“Hold on, babe.”
Leaning back, Jungkook effortlessly rips the wrapper open with his teeth before tossing it, his elbow digging into the mattress. After you retract your sticky hand, you watch with a small smile as he covers himself before hovering his beautiful body over yours.
But that’s all he does, and it’s intriguing.
What’s he thinking?
You’re about to ask when his words cut you off.
“You’re…” His eyes roam over your form, the heat of his gaze causing your arms to furl over your chest instinctively. Gingerly halting your limbs, he whispers,
“You’re the love of my life.”
So many things could’ve been said in that moment. So many phrases he has said before in similar situations. But what does he say? What does he go with?
You weren’t expecting that at all.
“Baby,” you murmur, blinking to quell the burn in your ducts. “If you keep saying stuff like that, I’ll cry.”
Gently nudging your legs apart, he slots his body in between. “I mean it,” he pledges, lowering himself to cage you in. Molding his entire body into your naked form, he shuts his eyes in wonder before regarding you with a loving gaze. Soft locks tickle your cheek as he kisses your neck, licking and sucking in the spots that affect you the most. “But I’ll stop.”
“For now,” you correct. “You can make me cry after.”
Jungkook’s breathy laugh will always be one of your favorite sounds. “Deal.”
Sighing, you reach up to clasp his flexed biceps, tightening your holds whenever he starts sucking on your pulse. How he went from worshipping you to devouring you was always intriguing. Maybe to him, they were one and the same.
Between your legs, your folds flutter with want, and you lift your hips as a tiny hint.
“Say what you want, baby girl.”
“You know what I want.”
“Nu uh.”
Feeling the abrupt girth of his head protruding your folds, you grunt with a harsh shot of breath. “Fuck,” you gasp. “I want you, but not all at once, fuck.”
“How are you always so tight,” your boyfriend wheezes, rubbing his length up and down your cunt before nudging in slow. “Holy shit.”
You whimper at the intrusion until you feel yourself adjusting.
But this was expected. Jungkook’s so damn large that you go through this every time. The only times that have been different have come after he’s eaten you out, and even then he’s still a bit big.
However. You know what proceeds the slight ache, and it’s completely worth it. The euphoric feeling of being completely and utterly together. One.
Your core molten and clenching around him, you purr at the way he goes deep, deeper, bottoming out. Above you, Jungkook starts perspiring in earnest, grunting as he keeps himself still. Sheathed entirely inside, he goes back to ravaging your neck, and you encourage him to finally move with a rock of your hips.
“So fucking big,” you praise, mewling when he chuckles during a deep thrust. “I love your dick, baby.”
“It’s yours,” he offers with no hint of hesitation, rolling his hips until you see another set of stars. With each long thrust, his ridges rub like heaven, your lower lips singing their gratitude in tight spasms. “I’m all yours.”
“You can go faster,” you mention in passing, though the breathiness of your voice gives away your desperation.
Maybe you are desperate. May as well lean into it. “Go faster. Faster.”
“If you start being bossy, I’ll come.”
“That’s the point, Kookie.”
Grunting in agreement, he slips a strong arm underneath your hips, lifting you at a slight tilt. The new angle allows him to penetrate deeper, and you sing his name in a continuous hymn with every other plunge. Again and again and again.
His lips connect with yours for the upteenth time that night, as if he was continually magnetized and couldn’t stay away for too long. Your breath’s stolen away with each pass—his soul pouring into yours to make up for its absence.
With each fleeting second, your skin proves slicker with sweat and effort. Exertion appears on Jungkook’s own body in the way his muscles and veins bulge, pulse, shove against the confines of his skin. Ever faster, his hips never tire as he finds a steady rhythm.
“Babe, fuck—”
“So fucking tight.”
Your breasts bounce each time he penetrates, and he curls his body to take one of them in his fiery mouth. You arch your back to aid his hunger, and you moan with every intentional lick and swirl of his tongue.
Nipping your bud, Jungkook smirks at your squirming before attacking the other, shoving his cock far into your sex just to see how loud he can make you whine.
Breathless, you go limp and take his hard rhythm in stride, riding the high of feeling so incredibly full. Only the sounds of your small mewls and his reserved grunts permeate the air, thickening the room and layering more sweat on your skin. You’re sure you look as fucked out as your boyfriend appears, lust manifesting in passionate blooms on his slick skin.
“That’s it, baby girl,” he lauds. “Love when you relax for me.”
“Feels so good, Kookie.”
“That’s what I want for you.”
Lolling your head to the side, your lidded gaze latches onto his inked arm. So pretty, just like him. You gnaw on your lip as you contract against his pulsing length, your body bumping with the knocks of his thrusts.
The desire that had been unleashed before coalesces again with a vengeance, sneaking up from the earth and balling itself inside your core. Sliding your eyes to meet Jungkook’s wanton expression, you whimper, “I’m close again, baby.”
“Fuck, I can tell.” He dips his forehead down to yours before sliding his hand to your hip. Gripping your skin, he’s sure to leave tiny bruises with how rough he holds on.
But you don’t care. You love when he loses control.
His heated breath ghosts down your features as he rolls in exaggerated thrusts, and his heavy hums clue you in to his own chase.
“You, too?”
“Ye... Yeah,” he grunts, voice high in pitch.
“Good. You’re so hot when you come.”
Your praise coaxes a whine from him before his motions became unpredictable and erratic.
There it is. He’s so close. Just one more push.
Abandoning your squelching sex, you suddenly use both hands to claw at the rippling muscles of his back. Angry red scratches tear through his nearly-unmarked skin—the only other scars from more passionate ones you inflicted before.
A strangled groan empties out above you, and his mouth flops open in unhinged desire. Darkened, blown out orbs bury into your sweaty face, and you squint to fire heavy lust in retaliation.
Contained energy threatens to burst inside of you. Another high in plain sight. Tugging at Jungkook’s long, wet locks, you shove his mouth onto your ravenous lips, impaling him with your furious tongue.
His breath shoots out between your fervent demands, “Gonna. Gonna come.”
“Do it, baby.”
With the next thrust, you’re pulled under instead, tumbling under the currents of your orgasm and spiraling out of control. Your boyfriend follows close behind, and you can feel him twitch furiously inside of your walls.
The moment only lasts mere seconds, but you feel afloat for much longer, your body wracked with release. Words of affection tumble onto your heaving chest before Jungkook slides out of your exhausted core, and his body dumps into an exhaustive heap right next to you.
Always a new and ethereal experience with him. You can’t explain how beautiful it feels to have him in your arms when you come, or when he reaches his own high.
In a way, you could say it’s touching. Laced with enchantment. Something deeper than love, if that were even possible.
But there aren’t any words in existence that can describe the feeling, so you only settle with conveying how you feel in your actions.
Lightly raking your hands through his sweaty hair, you smile before kissing the tip of his nose, nuzzling it before thumping your head back onto the comforter.
“We should clean up.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook agrees, his body not conveying the same willingness.
And you can’t blame him: your own limbs didn’t feel adequately attached to the rest of your body. You’re essentially strewn about the bed in parts yourself.
“How are your arms,” you grunt, struggling in your quest to achieve a sitting position.
Your boyfriend nudges your back with his floppy hair, helping you straighten in the most adorable way possible. “They’re okay. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
Sliding off the bed, your entire body feels like gelatin for bones, Jungkook jutting an inked arm out to steady your wobbling.
A giggle punctuates his inquiry. “That bad, huh?”  
“Shut up. This is your fault.”
“Nu uh.” Standing and guiding your fawn-like feet to the bathroom, Jungkook counters, “I wasn’t the one hauling ass down four flights of stairs.”
“Yeah. That’s why you lost.”
“Brat.”
“You like it.”
As you both go through your clean up and bedtime routines, the light banter continues. It quickly transforms into delirium from being the dark early hours of morning, nonsensical quirks and giggles puncturing the apartment walls.
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When you’re settled back into your bed, you curl your body into his. But you still aren’t quite comfortable: throughout your small time in the bathroom, your feet somehow managed to freeze over again. Seeking immediate thawing procedures, you slot them between Jungkook’s legs.
“Hell no!” He wiggles rapidly and attempts to run from your iced extremities, whining when your toes chase him down under the sheets. “So damn cold!”
“I’m trying to get warm!”
“Damn it... You’re lucky I love you.”
“I am,” you hum, your face smug.
Even with his protests, your boyfriend clamps his limbs around your feet to give them heat.
Silence settles like a light dust over your bodies. Heavy with contemplation and satisfaction, Jungkook quietly slings an arm over your body to pull you closer. Though he absolutely doesn’t need to keep his voice low, he whispers to your forehead,
“Thank you for the date tonight.”
Heart fluttering, you nuzzle into his chest. “Thank you for joining me. Sorry for ruining your rank.”
“Fuck my rank,” he huffs with a hint of mirth. “This was the most fun I’ve had in months. It made me even more sure of…”
Huh?
Of what?
Confused, you tilt your head within your small space. “More sure of...?”
“Umm.”
Feeling his hold tighten around you, you aren’t positive if you felt a slight shake of his fingers or not.
A slight, prickling feeling skittered over your skin, goosebumps flaring like your heart knew what he was going to say without him uttering a word.
“I was gonna save this for a better time, but, uhm.” He pauses, a million moments in between. “I just know I wanna marry you.”
Oh.
You still—only for a small beat—before relief bubbles from your throat.
When Jungkook regards you with a confused face, you breathily respond, “Is that what you’ve been wanting to tell me this whole time? I thought that was already the plan, silly.”
“Really?” Solace floods his features, and you can’t for the life of you understand how he didn’t get that impression before.
Does he really not know how incredibly and unabashedly threaded he has you around his tattooed finger? Who the hell else would you stand out in that weather for more than a millisecond for? For who else would you traverse the galaxies if he ever lost his way—tearing through planets just to find him and bring him home?
“Yes, really,” you giggle, wetting your lips before capturing his. “Just let me know the date and time and I’ll show up.”
Chuckling, he presses a tender kiss to your nose before padding around for his phone. His curious, determined face illuminates like a single star, and you fill the bed with mirth when he ponders aloud,
“Then when’s the next meteor shower?”
-
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end.
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A/N: YAAAAY if you made it to the end, welcome!! thank you so much for the support and always feel free to let me know what you thought. this is a revamped version and i am way more happier with this result, so if you’ve read both, thank you twice :D as for more jungkook content: it is coming!! got wips in the works and should be putting out updates/teasers soon. of course, any feedback will definitely be appreciated. my ask box is always open<3 ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that aren’t okay with reblogging with a review, commenting on this, or sending a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a feedback dropbox :D ⇥ here!   ++ ⇥ masterlist 
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tteokdoroki · 1 year
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*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— twenty something + eren jaeger.
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⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 30s, smut, fluff, virginity loss, soft sex, oral sex (f!recieving), established relationship, fem!reader - not beta read !
⭑ words — 1K.
⭑ notes — hii my lurvs! i found this in my drafts and decided to finish it off! i think its cute okok <3!! enjoy! - m.list ✩
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i feel like sex with eren is goofy. the first time he gets you into his bed, you’re giggling and pressing kisses to one another’s hairlines because you’ve knocked skulls while trying to kiss in the middle of frenzied shirts and kicked off sweat pants and his big eyes, in a colour that you can’t quite describe (are they grey? mixed with blue perhaps? or maybe a shade of green?), crinkle at the corner while he whines above you. “don’t laugh at me, i-i’m trying!” because your boyfriend, your first love, is a child at heart— he grew up too fast and eren gets to feel like a kid with you again— so you reach up and kiss him and tell him that he’s doing great so far.
the first time is clumsy of course, your legs are over his broad and tanned shoulders and eren’s trying so hard not to bust while slipping inside of you for the first time ever— poor baby hissing into your neck and kissing at your flesh to calm himself ( and you ) down because it feels so good and he knows that it hurts for you...just a little. fingers are laced together, squeezing every once and a while, tiny i love yous breathed hotly into skin and then when eren’s all the way in his emerald eyes look down at you with so much love, you know then that neither of you will last long.
and eren will hold you close, like no other. slipping inside of you with gentle thrusts as if you might break or fall to pieces if he’s too rough with you— asking quietly if you like the way it feels when your ankles hook around the small of his back or when you pout just a little bit with your eyes closed. “it feels good, eren. i love you,” comes your affirmation from between lips that bruised with loving kisses and the poor boy stutters and stumbles and almost loses it right there.
you’re both twenty something, out of college and eren is still asking you if you’re okay— seated in his lap on your tatty second hand couch— two broke graduates who need to feel each other more than anything to get rid of the days stressors. you don’t need to verbalise how shitty your day was, because he knows already… he saw it from the moment you stepped into your shitty apartment with the creaky walls and leaky taps. he knows you. 
and eren, like always, asks if you’re okay before you take him— throbbing cock between your sore thighs, bobbing at your entrance until you nod and sink down on him. he doesn’t care that you use him for pleasure, to let the ecstasy burn away at your stresses— because eren loves you oh so much, he has to tell you every time your hips lift from his and every second it takes for you to slam back down after. bodies that know each other’s symphonies off by heart work together like a pianist and their fingers against the keys. every touch, he knows just where to put it and every kiss he knows just where to place it. every thrust, eren makes sure it hits all the right spots inside of your tight little hole to make your head flop back and thighs quiver as you make love and lewd noises into the deep night.
twenty something years later, eren’s giving you the life he promised on your wedding day— there’s kids that sleep down the hall, one in their crib and the others in their respective bedrooms. there’s a school run early in the morning but eren’s as insatiable as can be. no matter how much time has passed, there’s still an undying flame that flickers between yourself and the man with the muddled coloured but pretty eyes and soft brown hair. eren jaeger loves you all the same, makes love to you all the same— sinking into silk sheets gifted to you on your wedding night and between your thighs to lap and suck at your sex like a starved man.
your taste is a blessing to him every time, a flavour he could never grow tired of having spread across his tongue. to eren jaeger, his little corner of heaven is right between your thighs—he could be shackled her, banished to your pretty sex that flutters for him, for all of eternity if he didn’t love every other part of you too. like your cherry-bitten lips, kitten like mewls, the curves that came with ageing and maturing together. your body is a temple, it’s given eren so much, and he’s just a man who worships you. slides his tongue over your slippery sex and devours you with everything he has to offer— your fingers find him in the soiled sheets, hips chasing his face, rutting into it with the desperation for more and like always eren says.
“i love you baby, you okay?” 
and even twenty something years later, it still makes your heart flutter with love.
you nod, just as bashful as you were the first time you made love to eren jaeger. only this time you have his last name, only this time your wedding bands glint on your ring finger as you take control and take hold of your husband’s throbbing cock, thumbing at his slit until he’s putty beneath you. eren’s cheeks flush red, his lips parting in a soft ‘o’ and he looks up at you like you’re worth the entire world and then some.
“i love you, eren.” you tell him like it’s official word, straddling his lap — rolling your hips over his cock sensually and in the way that he likes. calloused fingertips that would never dare to hurt you sink into your fatty hips with stretch marks gifted to you by your children. he tries not to moan and cry out for the love of his life, the mother of his children. it’s so cute. and you slip your hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. “i always will.” 
he whimpers behind your hand as you lean down to kiss him over it — never breaking eye contact. 
twenty something years later you’re both hopeless romantics, extremely in love and will be forever more.
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Could we have platonic yandere octotrio with dwarf octopus merchild Mc
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You’re their baby now 
No Questions about it
You probably can’t control it very well 
But in your world no one has a problem with it so when you finally get invited to Octavinelle 
You immediately change your form because your so happy it's so much like water
Their surprised but really happy
Your theirs now 
Making you an away-from-home tank that sits within each of their rooms
No question about it
And as a part of their family your apart of business
So with your tiny tot body they give you a uniform 
And make sure you take a good nap after service
Of course the whole school already thinks of you as everyone’s little sibling
So think about the foot traffic to cheer you on while you struggle with your single cup
“Make sure to keep your back straight. And keep your arms level.”
“O-okay um big brother Jade?”
“Yes.”
“I want to go in my tank now, can I?”
“Yes you may.”
Floyd loves having a little sibling 
he’s used to being treated like an equal in the sharing of information and work
But with you he’s a big brother
“Ne~baby octo, do you know how to squeeze the boring seafish?”
“No.”
“Then watch this!”
Some poor student, who probably failed a deal with Azul is being squeezed by Floyd
As he sends you a proud smile
And of course not knowing any better you cheer him on
He loves having an impressionable little octopus to follow his lead
Certainly never leaves him bored
Around Azul you’re probably more likely to change 
just cause its fun
“Puuuhhhlleeaase Zully! I wanna see your tentacles! See! I’ll show ya mine.”
“Fine, fine but you have to finish your counting first okay?” 
“Okay!” 
He waits until he has to take his pill that he lets himself go usually in the tank or in the surrounding water of the dorm
And when he does your so happy
You might squirt a little ink
“Sorry.”
“I-its okay.”
He’s nervous at first but then when he sees you fawn over how much bigger his tentacles are to yours 
He’s swooning even more
You have to be protected your just too sweet
He decides to keep you forever abruptly taking you with him when the next extended break comes along
And when the teachers ask he’s just going to say that he would no best anyway
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weird-is-life · 1 year
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Spencer teasing short!reader (shorter than him) 🫶🏻
Thank you so much for this request! I too am very short, so I relate to this🤧 this is for all the short queens (0.6k) fluff
Being a short person was already a big disadvantage in life. But having over 6ft tall boyfriend, that liked to put your favorite mugs on the highest shelf, far to the back of it, when disloading the dishwasher, made your life even harder.
You couldn't reach it, even standing on your tip toes and it was getting frustrating. You thought about standing on the bar stool, that was in the kitchen, but decided against it. You didn't want to break your leg.
You settled for climbing on the counter, although it wasn't much safer option. But what could you have done, Spencer wasn't home yet to help you.
So you bravely hopped on the counter and slowly stood up. You were holding onto the shelves like your life depended on it.
And while you were focused on retrieving the mug without breaking your neck, you didn't even notice, the front door opening.
You didn't even hear him call out your name. Spencer searched the apartment with a frown, wondering why you didn't respond.
When he found you balancing on the counter and saw you sway a bit, he almost got a heart attack.
"Sweetheart!" his tall frame quickly came to support you from behind.
"Hi..." you murmured softly, your mind still on that damn mug.
"Hi? Baby, what are you doing up there?" he asked concerned," you could fall and hurt yourself!"
His strong hands were on your hips and before you could protest he was manhandling you to the ground. Only a yelp of surprise came out of your mouth.
"Spencer, why....." you said slightly annoyed by the fact, that you almost had the mug.
"What do you mean why?" he frowned at you, "what were you even doing up there?"
You suddenly felt a little embarrassed about the whole situation and with quiet voice you said, "i was getting my mug."
"What was that, sweet girl?"
"I was getting my mug" you repeated and suddenly Spencer started grinning at you.
"Poor baby, you can't reach it, can you?" he teased you and with a smug face, his hand reached for it and he handed it to you.
"It's not my fault, that you are so tall ," you crossed your arms and glared at him, which made him laugh.
"It's not my fault either, that you are so tiny, maybe we should get you some stool" he chuckled some more at your scowl.
"You know what, you can sleep on the couch tonight" you deadpanned and turned around to make yourself the tea, fighting the smile on your face.
"Oh c'mon sweetheart, i'm sorry. I was just joking, you know i love you" he said, trying to turn your body to face him. But you didn't budge, you weren't really mad at him, you just wanted to mess with him, too.
Spencer started panicking, he thought that he actually hurt your feelings, " I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to be so mean, please don't make me sleep on the couch, i need my cuddles with my best girl."
He pleaded, scared that you really were angry at him, but his worries soon dissapeared, when he heard your giggles.
"You little minx!" he laughed, squeezing your sides," i thought, you were mad for real."
"Sorry not sorry handsome, had to get back at you for putting my favorite mugs out of my reach and for being rude."
"Being rude? What are you talking about, baby, i would never ever do that," he innocently declared, making you huff out another laugh.
"You should probably just go change your clothes, before you will really sleep on the couch" you poked his side and pushed him towards the bedroom. "And hurry up, i want to watch a movie."
"I will be quick and will you please make tea for me, too?" he asked, already in the other room.
"If i can reach your mug, then yeah" you couldn't help yourself with one more remark.
"Sweetheart-" Spencer groaned and you just laughed.
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