#that shirt does NOT fit him those buttons are fighting for their lives | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr Inc. has $15.1M in annual revenue.

#that shirt does NOT fit him those buttons are fighting for their lives

mccoyquialisms · 2 months

Text

Incredible things from the london D20 live show in no particular order (straight from memory so may not be totally accurate or have much context at all):

First of all the line up was incredible. Kugrash, Pete, Sundry Sydney, Skip, Fabian and Adaine. What a terrible combination of personalities, it was so funny

Btw everyone looked so good. They looked really good, those fits <3. Murph striped button up/polo? shirt and Lou grandpa sweater you will always be famous

When Siobhan rolled Adaine everyone was so excited. Lou (who had already rolled for Fabian) hugged her, picked her up and spun her around on stage ❤️

Everyone was so excited to have a buddy ❤️

The setting was rolled as a crown of candy, after Brennan literally said “wow we happened to have a few people from the same place, wouldn’t it be hilarious if we got a crown of candy or neverafter or something?”

Everyone arrives and are doing introductions and the first thing Fabian says is “[tearfully] Adaine is that a giant rat?” Cue the whole atrium losing it.

Sydney then proceeds to minor illusion Kugrash as “sexy.” After some deliberation and when prompted by Brennan, Murph decided this means he looks exactly the same except for giant veneers

Beardsley: Can I distract the guard?

Brennan [flabbergasted, as the rest of the party was doing INSANE shit around this]: Sure, the DC is 500.

Beardsley: If I crit will you let it happen

Brennan [indulgently]: sure

Beardsley: [rolls a nat 20]

Brennan: [despair], cast: [running around in circles on stage and jumping], fans: [losing it]

And that’s how they accidentally start a revolt in Candia within minutes of arrival by Pete the Chosen Outsider with the peppermint tooth and prophesied king of candia. But it’s cool because in the next few minutes Kugrash teaches them about democracy.

So many little references to past campaigns and character one liners. Way too many for me to list but the cast was clearly enjoying dropping them

Sundry Sydney hitting King Calroy with 3 grenades ON SIGHT

A Hasted Kugrash doing an opposed athletics against Calroy and Brennan rolls a Nat 1. The dice wanted that motherfucker DEAD.

Kugrash to Calroy: “I eat from the trash, and I’ve never seen a cake as shitty as you!’ And then proceeds to 300-style kick him off the castle wall (as acted out by human man Murph)

Sooo much PVP though really most of that was between Pete and Fabian as they fought over the crown of candia

Sundry Sydney successfully seduced and awakens personhood in Adaine’s identify spell. His name is ANUS now. (Another use…)

Skip is quangled out and replaced by Lapin (played by Zac) and tries to keep the party on track. He fails many times. He takes up smoking from the stress. Adaine does as well.

At some point Pete’s wild magic turns his hands into rock candy, which he uses to deal 2d20 damage to Fabian during a fight

Emily as Sydney, whenever crazy shit happens: this is canon! [raises cannon arm]

All of them (except Pete) have some bad baby milk and do kublacaine. Cue a small detour for more pvp between Pete and Fabian

Arthur Aguefort is released from captivity in a castle full of/made from eggs. He and Lapin may or may not know each other biblically. They met on an app for old magical men, don’t worry about it.

Bill Seacaster is the pirate prince of the dairy lands and has the quangle. They get into his castle with Operation Fancy Perfume Part 2 except Emily rolled a nat 1 for her assist, so first poisonous perfume takes out most of the party and everyone inside the castle. I think Emily may have been crying she was laughing so hard.

They sort of defeat Bill by giving him pleasure putty (which he USES behind a curtain in front of EVERYONE) and then has to go take a nap, so they sneak into the rest of the castle to find the quangle. I am never going to forgive Brennan for making it canon that he goes “yar har har YO HO HO” when he gets off. I WILL NEVER UNHEAR THIS.

Pete Conlan somehow gains the power of flight from Bambi LeRoux (Sydney brought her) singing the Reading Rainbow theme song. He does a flying ribbon dance out the window, where she stops singing and he falls and takes max fall damage. He’s still up, so Fabian jumps out the window with Feather Fall and shoots him with a laser gun until he actually dies lmao. He gets injured too somehow but I forgot how. They both get healed and everyone continues on like nothing happened.

Emily took her dice that rolled a Nat 1, kissed it, and threw it into audience with a cheeky expression. I’m in love with her I fear

The time quangle is an entire pool of lemon yogurt. At the bottom of the pool is a completely naked Gilear Faeth

Kugrash eats all the yogurt despite knowing it will kill him in order to end the quangle. His farewell speech has as a backdrop Gilear’s giant hog (played by Brennan’s arm, as he got out of his chair to stand behind Murph the ENTIRE time he was talking). Kugrash then ascends to the big bodega in the sky.

Sydney also seduces Annabelle Cheddar (EDIT: fuck it was like 12 AM forgive me) Primsy Coldbottle, who is explicitly 29 in this version of time. Both her and Anus join Sydney in returning to AnarchEra. I cannot emphasize enough how horny this live show was

Everyone gets sent back to their respective universes, except Arthur. He’s going to hang out in Candia for a bit to be Lapin’s “roommate.”

Fabian’s last line is that he has to call his banker because he has a new nemesis

Lapin: “That was the worst group of people I have ever met.”

God that was so funny, I really hope these live shows are getting recorded and will be released somewhere later. I need everyone to experience the epic highs and lows of this d20 session.

#dimension 20 live #dimension 20 #dropout #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 live #my musings

267 notes · View notes

1hot-mess-express1 · 1 month

Text

Changes

(Toji X Reader)

Synopsis: Toji gets a new job and looks hot in a suit

CW: (thinking about) Oral (male receiving), (role play) boss/employee dynamics, language (obvs it's Toji)

AN: This is still pretty short (1.1K) but I'm working my way up to longer fics, definitely haven't written smut in ages so I kind of chickened out there at the end haha

Convincing Toji to settle down and get a ‘real’ job went about as well as one would imagine. He was all teeth and mean comments about how you’d miss the money, how you’d fall out of shape, even going as far as to say that he needs time away from you on jobs for your relationship to work out—but you know Toji, he didn’t mean any of that. He’s just slow to change, no matter what that change is, but especially if that change is someone else’s idea, even you, his sweet, beautiful, second chance at life, the calm after the storm.

Just as you were about to give up hope on pulling Toji out of his dangerous career, you heard his heavy footsteps descending the stairs of your home. His muttered words were barely audible but hinted at a brewing storm. You wiped your hands on your apron, wondering what possibly could have him this riled up so late into your evening. Maybe Shiu called him for another extended job that would have him away from home for a few weeks. You step into your living room with bated breath, praying that you’re wrong, hoping that you can play house with him for a bit longer before you’re reminded of what your husband really does for work. What you saw there was nothing short of astonishing.

Toji stands in the middle of your shared living room, trying to button the cuffs of his button-down shirt. His large hands slip away from the too-small buttons, turning the task into a nightmare as he groans, eyebrows knit, and jaw clenches. You think for a moment that he must not have detected your presence as he continues to struggle and swear under his breath until he pulls you from your thoughts.

“Ya just gonna sit there staring at me, or are ya gonna come help me with this stupid fucking shirt,” he turns to face you, and you see a light blush dusting the tips of his cheeks as he drops moves a hand to run through his hair, avoiding your gaze.

He has an expensive black suit jacket over the light button-down, slacks, and matching dress shoes. His unruly mop of hair looks like it’s been pushed back a bit to look more professional. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Toji in anything this nice before, not even at your wedding; he insisted on wearing jeans and sneakers (mostly cause you wouldn’t let him go shoeless-- yes, that too was a fight).

He must have noticed your gawking cause he snaps at you again, “Hey! Woman, come put those tiny fingers to good use for once,” the corner of his lips pull into a devilish smirk, and suddenly your face is heating up at the realization that he caught you gawking.

“Y-yeah, sorry,” you say, making your way to stand in front of him. Staring intently at the tiny opalescent buttons on his wrist, you try desperately to avoid his burning eyes, which are burning holes into the back of your head.

Your delicate fingers slip the pretty button into its home as your eyes start to linger, raking over his built thighs, noting how the fabric clings deliciously to the well-built muscle there. Fuck, if you’re really looking, just under the simple leather belt, you can see the shape of his fat cock through the light fabric. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as your mouth goes dry. Daring a glance upward, you can see how the fabric of his dress shirt pulls slightly as if his chest barely fits in the damn thing; the well-fit blazer only makes his shoulders look impossibly bigger.

“Hey, I’ve got two hands, airhead,” he chuckles breathly into your ear, causing the hairs on your neck to stand straight up as he moves to gently kiss your temple.

“S-so uh, what’s with the outfit?” you curse yourself momentarily for letting him know how much he affects you; even after all these years, he still makes your body react with the simplest touch.

You feel his body freeze for a moment at the side of your head before speaking, “Oh uh, Shiu got me a job; I’ll be security at one of those upscale clubs downtown,” he buries his face into the side of your hair mumbling his words into it, “Why? You don’t like it, doll?”

After fastening the second button, your arms wrap gently around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer, “No, I love it actually, just a little surprised, is all.” Your fingers begin to card through the hair at the nape of his neck, causing goose flesh to rise as Toji wraps his arms around your midsection, pulling you closer to him.

“Tell me how much you love it, beautiful,” he whispers into your ear. His fingers play with the tie of your apron as his other hand snakes under your shirt, and warm hands trace circles in the small of your back.

A shiver runs through your spine before you speak, “You look handsome, honey. Like some executive business prick…definitely the type of guy to fuck around with his secretary.” You can hear him chuckle as he moves to place open-mouth kisses under your ear, enjoying the way you start to fidget within his grasp.

“Keep going, baby.”

You let out an audible gasp when he nibbles on your ear lobe, hand moving down to caress the fat of your ass under your pants. “You look so big in that suit, Toji, like a strong, respectable businessman.” You let out a breathy laugh at the last part as Toji places his behind your neck, craning down so your noses just barely brush one another.

“Is that right, doll? Ya wanna be my good little secretary then? Hm?” He bites gently at your bottom lip, pulling your hips in closer so you can feel all of him better. “Ya gonna be a good girl n suck me off under the table? Gotta keep quiet though or everyone in the office will know you got that promotion on your knees” You let out a breathy moan at the thought of having your mouth stuffed full with his cock, drool cascading down the sides of your mouth and staining your pencil skirt as he speaks with employees as if you aren’t below him, gagging, trying desperately to stay quiet. The thought alone has you pressing your thighs together as he moves his hand to trace over the gloss on your bottom lip, smearing the sticky substance around and staring with a predatory gaze at how you part your lips to lick at the tip of his finger before he presses it further into your mouth. You wrap your lips around the digit and stare up at him with those pleading eyes like you were begging to have his dick down your throat. Fuck, he doesn’t think he’s so mad at the change anymore, not when it means he could keep you around his office as a personal stress reliever from now on.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #toji zenin #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #fushiguro toji #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

187 notes · View notes

flashbangstars · 3 months

Text

Domestically, Painfully, Loving.

Pairing: Renjun x Female Reader wc: 2.5k+

Summary: You and Renjun have been roommates for the past two years and apparently the roommate dynamic you thought you had was not very roommate-y

Genre: suggestive, fluff, he and MC are painfully domestic.

Warnings: suggestive at the end/mentions of sex (like I literally just say sex a lot)

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

It was for sure one of those mornings. You didn’t wake up to any of your alarms, your windows were drawn, and your bed was too warm to get out of. The thought of skipping the 9 am you had was now in bright bold letters in the forefront of your brain and honestly seemed like the move.

Then all of a sudden I hear this grating voice…. Just kidding it’s just Renjun. You hear him shuffling around in the hallways outside dangerously close to your door. You both had sworn to not lock your doors if it was a regular night because He had claimed it was a safety hazard.

You heard the door knob jingle, and then devastatingly open to Him in all his glory. He was fully dressed minus shoes and had the annoyed look he usually carries when you piss him off.

“It is almost 8:00 and if you don’t get up you’re going to miss your class,” He said sternly as he invited himself into your room and went to your closet

“I think I might just take the L on this one and miss it” you yawned and rolled over turning your back to him.

“No, and please don’t ever say “take the L” in front of me ever again,” Renjun said as he dug through your closet.

“Sorry, Your Highness” your voice strained as you slumped over in bed attempting to get up.

“I put clothes on your chair, I’m giving you 20 minutes and then we are leaving,” He said as he grabbed your wrists pulling you the rest of the way out of bed. Leaving you to your own devices after.

Renjun and you had lived together for 2 years now and this was the dynamic. Renjun helped you keep your shit together, and simultaneously you helped him not lose his. A perfect balance.

On your desk chair was a white sweatshirt and matching white sweatpants. One of the sets you had invested in after Renjun had introduced you to the world of “nice sweats” and on top of the sweat suit was a black sports bra from your dresser. There weren’t a lot of boundaries between you at this point, to be honest.

After changing you trudged into the bathroom where he was standing finishing his hair. Nudging him with your hip to move you slid in closer to the outlet of your hair. Renjun grabbed your hair into a ponytail and pulled it off your neck.

“I think you should wear your hair in a claw clip, it shows off your neck” You blinked at both of your reflections in the mirror with zero energy to fight him, nodding in agreement. Renjun then grabs the brush from the side brushing your hair out, and then twisting it into the claw clip.

“Alright there you go,” Renjun said patting your hip, moving you out of his way to finish his hair.

“I already ordered coffee so we gotta go soon, go put your shoes on, and do the Jordan's not the Converse,” Renjun ordered you around as he blow-dried his hair.

Finishing the multiple tasks he gave you, you were now standing at the door waiting for him to come escort you to the kitchen like a goddamn kindergartener to school. Now joining you in the entryway putting his shoes on. He was wearing a pair of loose-fit jeans and a white button-up on top of a T-shirt.

This contrast between you two is crazy.

You two both lived a very domestic life. When you had moved in together you strikingly got along really well. Renjun had slowly but surely worked himself to be at the forefront of important people in your life. He was just a very considerate person in his way and it showed with those he cared about….which you just happened to be!

Does he dress you up like a little doll sometimes.. yes! And like who doesn’t like that shit, domesticity in a household is like crack to weak-minded, and hey bitch.. I am the weak-minded.

Getting to campus you departed from Renjun and walked towards the lecture. Finding your spot in the auditorium and going to your friends who have saved it for you.

“Good morning darling, look who showed up today” Giselle nudged your shoulder laughing,

“And look! Her boyfriend got her coffee, god bless the lovely couple” Karina traced her finger along the big RENJUN written on the side of your coffee cup.

“Oh shut up, he’s not my boyfriend. He just buys the coffee in the morning” You shrugged taking a sip. Putting your coffee down meeting eyes with your two best friends silently staring at you with their eyebrows knit.

“What do you mean he isn’t your boyfriend” Giselle asked voice flat

“Renjun is not my boyfriend… we just live together,” You said again confused as to why you were being questioned.

“Y/n are you kidding….?” Karina spoke up over Giselle’s shoulder sharing the same confused look “I watched you two hold hands the other day while walking home, like clasp your fucking fingers and hold hands” Gisele gripped Karina’s hand to demonstrate.

“Yeah because I was tired and need to keep up with him while we were walking he’s fast for a little guy” you explain trying to mediate whatever the fuck was now happening

“Oh, you poor poor girl” Karina now pushing herself fully into the conversation “y/n people do not act like that with people who they aren’t dating plus you two live together… you do know that everyone thinks you two are dating right?”

You felt your hole clench at that statement. Hole clench, toe curl, and heart drop. “What do you mean people think we are dating..?” Your voice sounded more pathetic than you wanted it to be.

“Y/n you two are probably two of the most domestic people I know, I watched you and Renjun hug for a solid two minutes yesterday and then he fixed your hair after. Who the fuck does that. Other than two people who are having painfully loving sex?” She asked.

You two weren’t having painfully loving sex! Neither of you were having sex! You would know, the walls are thin.

“But we aren’t having painfully loving sex” you pouted still confused

“And that’s fucked up for you, and your vagina!” Karina rubbed your shoulder.

“Be honest with yourself Y/n would you have painfully loving sex with Renjun if you had the chance?” Giselle asked

And just like that, your world fucking crashed in. Because you WOULD! You would have painfully loving earth-shattering war of worlds universe colliding sex with Renjun! Your body was in a sense of shock and you felt your eyes stuck open wide at the sudden realization you would bone your roommate and would maybe like to be in a grossly domestic relationship with him.

“I think we broke her” Karina waved her hand in front of your face and snapped.

“I think I have a crush on Renjun” you whispered in disbelief.

“Substantial realizations here before 9 am ladies and gentlemen” Giselle clapped as if your now mental breakdown was an achievement.

“I think I need to go home right now and I think I need to go rethink everything that has happened to me for the past two years,” You said in a frantic whisper as you packed the rest of your things and left the lecture hall 5 minutes before class was supposed to start. Ignoring what Karina and Giselle were saying trying to get you to pause your mental breakdown and sit back down for geology

Fuck geology I'm having a crisis!

Speed walking out of the lecture hall it still felt like you had a cold bucket of water dumped on you, and then someone pushed you down a flight of stairs too. How had you not realized you had a crush on him? You two did almost everything together, you did almost everything together!!!!

Turning the corner and stopping dead in your tracks making eye contact with the devil himself, renjun. His eyes widened at first meeting yours, and then brows furrowed in confusion. You had two choices right now; run away OR admit defeat and face him. Running away seemed like the best option but you would have to face him later that night at the apartment and currently with the realization you were going through, you didn’t want to have to face him to explain why you ran away.

The familiar pair of brows excused himself from his friends and walked up to you with a look of concern painting his features.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in science right now? Where are you going” he asked, the worry evident in his voice. Making your stomach twist into knots.

“I uh.. don’t feel great so I think I’m just going to raincheck on classes today” you spoke not making eye contact with him once. Your eyes thought immediately shooting to meet his as he rested his hand on your forehead, and then slowly moved it to cup your cheek.

“You do feel a bit warm” his voice was still laced with concern. Your face was warm, but that was due to the fact you were screaming on the inside from your roommate caressing your face to see if you were sick. “I don’t have a lecture for another 30 minutes but I can miss it I’ll take you home!” Renjun said and reached to grab your wrist to drag you towards his car.

your wrist was tingling from the contact, and the thought of mind-blowing sex was now on the forefront of your conscious “NO *cough* no! I am fine, I’m going to take the bus and probably stop for some…tea! On the way home”

You don’t drink tea.

His hand released your wrist and he scanned your face skeptically. “You don’t drink tea though”

fUCK!

“Well, I just figured a good time to start! Being sick and all! *cough cough* wow! Okay well, I’m gonna go I will see you later!” Your sentence slowly lost control towards the end, you turned around and booked it to the bus stop, not even turning to see if he said bye or was still looking.

It had been 2 years of you two living together, how did you just realize now? And people already thought you two were dating? Does everyone think we fucked?

Does he think we are dating??

Does Renjun think we are dating?

You two do regular roommate stuff, He literally dressed you this morning and did your hair… HE DRESSED YOU AND DID YOUR HAIR. Oh holy fuck oh god oh what the fuck

Were you two dating? We we dating???

As soon as you got home from the bus you paced the living room for a good 45 minutes trying to rethink the last two years and what may have been perceived as you two dating, and so far there was a lot.

Renjun and you frequently hold hands, you both purposely created school schedules that ended and started around the same time each other, and you have both met each other’s families. The list fucking continues.

To be quite honest you weren’t sure what the reality was at all now. Renjun’s class ended at 12 and it was 12:15 so he would be home any minute.

The lock clicked and you watched as the door opened to Renjun, Walking in and smiling at you.

“How are you feeling? You ran away before I asked you anything else” He asked as he took his shoes off, but continued to hold eye contact, returning to that same look he had earlier when you had sold the idea of you being sick.

Ripping the bandaid off you said it

“Are we dating?” The question sounded like a scream in the quiet apartment.

Renjun paused and stood back up

“If that is what you wanna call it..?” He said shrugging

What do you mean ‘if that is what you wanna call it’

“Wait.. so you thought we were dating?” Your body began to tense at the prospect of you not being aware of your relationship status for the past two years

Renjun looked away like he was thinking and tilted his head “Well no… But I don’t act the way I act with you with anyone else, I just figured we weren’t putting a label on anything” He said walking closer to you and sitting on the couch in front of you “You haven’t seen anyone, and haven’t expressed that interest in doing so and neither have I and to be very fair quite literally everyone thinks we are dating” he laughed at his last part of his sentence as you were melting into a small puddle in the middle of your living room.

“Oh” was the only word able to make it out of your mouth as your state of shock had taken over your entire body.

“I mean we already live together, it would honestly be quite convenient for us to be dating” Renjun added seemingly unaware of the turmoil you were still in.

“But Karina said that we look like a couple who has painfully loving sex, and we aren’t having painfully loving sex though! We haven’t even kissed!” Did you whine at your roommate-boyfriends? Non-chalantness about the topic.

“Well, we can. It doesn’t define a relationship, but if painfully loving sex is what you want then we can make it happen” His voice garnered a new lilt to it as soon as the prospect of coochie became a distant goal

‘Hold on PLEASE I’m so lost” You threw your arms up in surrender now confused as to what you had gotten yourself into. “So you are actually into me?” You questioned

“Yes, very” well damn.

“Oh okay, well yeah me too” you responded

“Sick,” He said as he began to take his shirt off.

“WOAH” the screech leaving your mouth before you could catch it

“Painfully loving sex remember?” He said as he moved across the living room to grab you by the waist. “Would you be interested in some painfully loving sex, and for me to be your boyfriend officially?” His thumbs rubbed circles into your hips as he asked.

Now your coochie was for sure in the mix, as much as you wanted to scream and claw at him like a feral animal, you kept it in.

“That would be very nice yes! And yes I would love that” you decided to say instead.

His hands traveled from where they sat on your hips and landed under your thighs, picking you up and your legs clasping around his waist. And your hands made it to both sides of his his face bringing his lips to yours.

It felt like two years of sharing beds and dangerously domestic actions all culminating in this sloppy kiss. His teeth teased your bottom lip and took it with him gently when he pulled away and then released. Your chest heaving from the lack of air, and your face red from the situation you were in

“My room or yours.”

Hello! here is the entry for Renjun, It's not one of my favorites but I liked the plot! lmk who you want next!

287 notes · View notes

mockiery · 2 years

Note

Marc's entire existence has been about camouflaging. Being unseen and unheard. It helped him survive his childhood. It helped him hide from Steven. That's why he has such plain clothes, and so few possessions.

I made myself sad again. 😭

(in ref to these^^^ tags of mine)

You're absolutely right. I've talked his special interests/hyperfixations and I think after Randall's death especially he makes himself and his interests smaller, less distinguishable. If you don't wear the t-shirt for the thing you love, his mother no one will pick it out as something to belittle you over. If you don't take up space, if you don't take up attention...

Space, Star Wars, things considered nerdy and odd to have more than a passing appreciation for? Those go on the back-burner. But the Cubs? Sports are a more socially acceptable thing to get excessively excited about. So. Growing up, having Cubs merch, rooting for them, that can be just as much fitting in as the neutral clothes, the neutral existence.

And as he gets older, he doesn't really get to have interests. Those are for Steven. Steven gets to love things without as much guilt over it, so Marc let's him have it all. Marc doesn't deserve it, Steven does.

In the military, individuality is stomped out in favor of uniformity. And I think there was a lot of appeal to Marc about that. Not being an individual, but part of something bigger than himself. It's easy blending in when everything you're given to wear, to do, to say, to fight for, is the same as the guy next to you.

And then we see in the storage locker, it's neat, it's sparse, it's presumably all utility and necessities. Marc's been living like that since before going into the military, I'm willing to bet. His childhood bedroom's things were surely Steven's to him, I do not doubt.

I think he had the start of his own things when he was living with Layla, in their place, even though they did a lot of traveling on their adventures, but he'd likely still consider them Layla's. When he disappeared on her I don't think he took anything that they bought together, things Layla would have considered his.

Now, after the events in Cairo, I want to see Marc allow himself things, to take up space. Steven considers his food preferences when grocery shopping, a shelf for Marc to fill with whatever he wants, his own drawer(s) and section of the closet. Steven realizes it's easier for Marc to have his own space than to have his things mixed in with Steven's; Marc feels like he's intruding on Steven's life and space regardless of how much Steven assures him he isn't.

Marc has his Cubs hat, and I think he has a worn-out comfort t-shirt with the Cubs logo that he'd wear just to sleep sometimes (if he managed to change out of his clothes before crashing in the first place). I think Steven notes this and gets him some kind of Cubs merch, a jersey, and Marc has to do everything he can to not cry, wishing he could hug Steven like he could back in the Duat. He doesn't wear it for a while, fearful of messing it up, but also of standing out. Of making a statement. They are in London after all.

Steven buys a space themed shirt (with Layla’s assistance), not a patterned button up like his normal style, but a fitted t-shirt like Marc's. He says it's for both of them, and he wears it on days he feels Marc is close to the front with him, and eventually, Marc accepts it as his. Steven expresses interest in watching Star Wars and he feels Marc's surge of energy at it, and he smiles to himself. Marc eats up the new Star Wars content he’s missed out on, and Layla gets them copies of the original trilogy's dvd's (original edition, which blows Marc away) to play over and over. It's one of the first things on Marc's shelf.

Steven gives Marc the opportunity to take up space, and to do so unapologetically. And it takes time, and subtle encouragement, but he does. He finally wears his Cubs jersey out one day, and he gets complimented on it. He sputters and his face heats up, his hand going to the back of his neck and his hair, but he accepts it, and next thing he knows, he's talking baseball with a Londoner from Chicago, and he's talking stats, players, what the World Series win was like, and Marc doesn't even notice the way he's rambling for a while. He apologizes, but the Chicago Londoner assures him not to worry about it, that they love hearing about it from someone who knows what they're talking about. Reminds them of home, and that they're thankful to hear about it. They invite him to coffee, and Steven finally speaks up in the back of his mind to say they should, and they do. They talk Chicago, they talk the Cubs, the Bears, the best restaurants, the "fucking Bean" and it's the first time Marc has connected with a stranger in god knows how long. Years.

They give him their phone number, and, surprising himself, Marc gives them his. They don’t keep in touch much, but when baseball season rolls around, Marc receives a message from them, and soon he has someone to complain or get excited with after every game. Marc takes up space and he makes a friend. And it’s nice. It’s so nice.

He’s missed out on a lot in life. But. He’s working on it. They’re working on it.

#im not projecting at all why do u ask #also. per usual this obviously got veeery away from me #mk meta #mk hc #marc spector #moon knight #asks answered

193 notes · View notes

asteria7fics · 3 days

Note

I have no clue how this works but uhhhhh mayybeeeeee butters (or butters when he’s professor chaos) uhhhhh

👻 A headcanon about what scares them

💝 A headcanon about their love language

💔 An angsty headcanon

👗 A headcanon about their clothes

🔪 A headcanon relating to fighting/violence

🌟 A headcanon about their desires/wishes

🥇 A headcanon about what they’re best at

🎭 A headcanon about what they lie about

🖕 A headcanon relating to anger

😬 A headcanon about the worst thing they’ve done

😭 A headcanon about the worst thing that happened to them.

😶 A random headcanon!

(Yes I had to copy paste it to remember the emojis) I don’t think I read the reblog correctly so idk if I’m allowed to have this many😨😨 you don’t have to do them if u dont want but I would love to learn more abt your butters headcanon for ur fic (specifically for ewily if I remember the acronym correctly)

RAHHHHHH -😨

AAAH BUTTERS!!! MY BOY!!!! (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)♡

I’ll do my best to cover all of these!! I never get to blab about the boy with a heart full of magic!!!

Barely spoilers for the chapter 9 of EWILY under the cut, and a couple of other small details I do include in the fic but aren’t really super plot relevant.

👻 - A silly one to start with, but I think he’s a little bit afraid of the dark. I’m gonna probably say this a lot, but after some of the shit that’s happened to him in the context of canon, he gets really uncomfortable being left completely alone in pitch darkness. Oh! And of course he’s always afraid of doing something wrong and getting grounded!

💝- Words of affirmation. I won’t go into any greater detail, but it will all make sense soon enough ehehehe

💔- I personally think Butters struggles a lot with the fact that he doesn’t quite fit in with the other boys. They’re all pretty abrasive towards him still, and he’s really not cool enough to fit in with most of them. He doesn’t show it, but his insistence on still ‘playing superheroes’ with Kenny is kind of a greater symptom of this insecurity. I imagine he was very excited to be included when Stan got Crimson Dawn back together as they got older, probably late middle school or so.

👗- Wears whatever his mom picks out for him, which is why he’s such an über dork. Lots of lumpy sweaters with dress slacks and straight leg jeans that are all a little too short on his long ass legs, meaning his socks are always showing so they have to coordinate with his outfit, too. And of course, he owns an impressive collection of button up shirts and sweater vests.

🔪- Butters is not a fighter, but he’s certainly had lots of violence enacted on him. Bullied pretty bad as a kid, on top of (tw for child abuse) his father’s liberal use of physical punishments. These are all pretty much canon though, so suffice to say I personally think Butters CAN fight if he needs to, he just generally chooses not to. (This is where the Professor Chaos headcanons come in hehe)

🌟- He wants to be happy, above all else. It doesn’t really matter what it is that will get him there, he just wants to experience the joys of living without worrying about the consequences for once in his silly little life. Aah, now I’ve gone and made myself sad!

🥇- Canonically Butters is good at a ton of stuff! He’s such a highly creative person with a massive imagination, and though The Poop That Took a Pee is a horrible example, I think he’d actually be a really good fiction writer! Hm, maybe that’s something I should explore more.

🎭 - Everything, all the time. Naw, I’m being hyperbolic, though he definitely tells white lies to his parents to avoid getting in trouble. I think he’s also very dishonest when things upset him, at least when people like Stan, Kyle or Cartman hurt his feelings. He knows better than to show weakness around those assholes! (Sometimes RIP)

🖕- I actually think Butters’ anger is under appreciated! He’s an angry little guy when he wants to be, and while I think he’s quick to anger when something finally does irritate him enough, he’s also very quick to cool back down. He doesn’t really hold grudges, though he makes a few exceptions.

😬 - AHAHAAHAH!!! Where do I even begin?? Butters does worse things in canon than pretty much anything I’ll ever have him do, though I would argue that inadvertently inspiring his entire class to wage a war over him wasn’t, uh, great. Oh, and shooting that guy in the dick, I guess.

😭 - Again, where do I begin?? I think the trauma he’s experienced in canon sort of speaks for itself, though I also think that though maybe he didn’t get anything quite as bad in the Asteria-verse, the bullying he withstood affected him more than he would be willing to admit. Poor child, can someone please get him a therapist?

😶 - Butters’ eternal sunshine, happy boy disposition is at least partially a front. While he’s naturally an optimist person, and does generally see the good in everyone around him, but he’s not a complete idiot. He acknowledges, again, that he’s not fully accepted by his peers, but chooses to disregard a lot of the things they do to isolate him. As a little boy it was a more honest representation of who he was, but as he’s gotten older (and more hormonal oof) he’s latched onto it as a means of protection, so to speak. The only person who really, truly sees Butters in his most honest form is Kenny.

This was so much fun!!! Thank you for humoring me and sending this, and I hope you enjoyed learning a lil something about the way I portray Butters in my work!! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

#ask Asteria #THANK YOU PAL!!!#I had SO much fun with this!#I appreciate that you gave me so many to do #I really do love Butters and I’m happy to see him get some attention!#It’s not always about Style you guys damn #jk jk it really is #EWILY #exactly where I left you #headcanons #butters stotch

3 notes · View notes

spicysoftsweet · 3 years

Text

cw: minors dni, crack, dom!takemichi????, crime against fashion, this is a takemichi roast

a/n: i don’t want to hear it i do not respect this man do not say anything to me

“Can I use your bathroom, ‘Michi?” You call out from another room filled with far too many open and half filled boxes. Your voice echoes surprisingly loudly throughout the apartment, and it almost startles you.

This new apartment was bigger than you expected.

Well, anything would be big compared to that shoebox Takemichi used to live in, you think. You don’t hear Takemichi’s answer, and you wonder if he’s still in his bedroom, unpacking dutifully as you expect him to. There’s way too many damn boxes.

For someone who (rightfully) claimed to be broke so often, Takemichi had quite a bit of shit to move out. Old dishes, cracked mugs, magazines, old photos, you name it. Happy to be free of sorting through nonsense for a couple minutes, you make your way to the bathroom just right of his bedroom, only to find him smiling at himself looking in the mirror.

He’s wearing the worst fit you’ve ever seen in your life.

Hearing your footsteps approaching, he turns to look at you grinning widely, hands shoved in the pockets of red shorts that are far too tight in the wrong places with the words OUTLAW written boldly in black letters. His shirt is too tight, bursting at the single button he’s managed to close, and not in a sexy way.

The $5 sunglasses are possibly the worst part.

“It still fits!” He exclaims.

Whatever this is, you reject it immediately.

“No.” The words come out before you can completely register the outfit, and you close the door on him, turning into the bathroom instead.

“Come on, babe!” You hear him whine from the other side. Before you can slam the bathroom door to finally get some relief (and maybe some rest from whatever emotional warfare he’s playing), he’s pulled you out by the arm.

For someone who has been known not to be particularly good at fighting, he’s surprisingly strong. It’s probably every single punch he’s taken throughout his lifetime.

“Come onnnn, don’t deny I look good,” he insists.

“Absolutely not,” you reply, lips pressing into a thin line as you twist out of his grasp.

“You know you want a piece of this!” he banters with confidence. If you could throw up, you would. The clothes make you physically ill.

Your face twists in disgust and you press a threatening finger at his chest.

“Not a chance in hell.”

---

Takemichi isn’t anything if not persistent.

“F-fuck, it feels so g-good,” Takemichi sighs, and you can feel the shudder of his entire body through the thick cock between your lips. He’s grabby as usual and his hands make their way into your hair, attempting to press you down further, enough that your forehead presses against the skin of his belly.

You should bite the fuck out of him, you think. Your lips open, and his cock snaps back with a wet thwock sound as it slaps flush against him. The bastard is so eager and to be quite honest, you’ve never seen someone grow as thick and as hard as he does. He has to win somewhere.

But he’s still wearing the damn shorts.

“Please take those off,” you beg, getting up from your knees and moving forward so that you can straddle him on the single armchair he owns, the only piece of furniture decorating this new place. You figure you’re going to have to take his ass to IKEA too.

His hands wrap around your waist as you settle onto him, a soft suppressed whimper leaving you as you descend onto his shaft. The way he just worms his way into you is so fucking irritating, but when he moves… let’s say contempt is not the only thing you’re feeling.

It doesn’t take long for you to be screaming his name as he puts force under every upward thrust. That wretched shirt has fallen apart by now and the sunglasses are off, halfway up his face, and the damn shorts are down to his ankles.

At least with your face buried into the meat of his neck you can’t see this disaster of an outfit.

“Say it,” he insists.

“I’ll k-kill you before I say it...” you mutter in reply, despite holding back tears and embarrassed at the high pitch your voice has taken. You’re still holding on tight.

Always rapt for a challenge, he speeds up, and he’s nearly standing out of the chair as he bucks his hips up and one lucky stroke knocks you in the place that has your eyes rolling back behind your head and your pussy clenching desperately around him like you’re the needy one.

Takemichi can nearly hear the bell of a boxing match as your breath hitches and you cum violently. It’s almost criminal.

“Say it.” His tone only gets assertive when you’re still quivering as you come down. His hold is so anxious, it’s oppressive and he’s almost shaking with anticipation.

“My sexy outlaw,” you moan in defeat. It’s the worst day of your life.

#takemichi x reader #takemichi hanagaki x reader #takemichi smut #tokyo revengers x reader #not sfw #mae.writing #tokyo revengers smut #takemichi hanagaki smut #takemichi x you #crackfic

330 notes · View notes

destinysbounty · 2 years

Note

zane and nya for character opinion bingo

ZANE

Oh god blorbo supreme. The original blorbo. This nindroid can fit so much trauma in him. I could rant about him for a million years. Im like this close to giving into temptation and making a 20-minute compilation of all my favorite Zane moments (listen, the party pooper scene lives in my head rent-free at all times). Oh god he needs so much therapy, and no, locking your trauma in a digital puzzle box does not count as therapy.

Some people characterize him as some emotionless and boring lawful good. Some people characterize him as an uwu wholesome softboi. But in my opinion, the most correct interpretation is Dorky Suburban Dad.

Think about it. He wore a button-up and khakis to the beach. He dresses up in a full scuba skin-suit whenever they have a party in their own damn hot tub. He once wore a sweater vest with snowflakes on it. On their lil desert road trip he entertained himself by reading about regional trivia, and delighted in sharing this trivia with his friends. He loves playing board games, especially chess. He likes to make ice puns. He loves cooking. He's the closest thing they have to a responsible adult. When he became the team leader in season 5 he kept everyone pumped with all those silly little sayings like "one team one dream!" He apparently loves detective fiction. He thinks that walking like a pirate with a peg-leg will get people to respect him. He loves astronomy and, according to Lloyd, "knows the solar system better than anyone". Whenever someone is upset he's always there providing a comforting smile and a pat on the shoulder. He spent 5 minutes debating the morality of making an ice ramp for a slug. He doesn't understand pop culture. Zane is a dorky suburban dad and you can't change my mind.

He's also a fashion icon. For example, when he died, the ninja all became a total fashion disaster in his absence. We all saw it. None of them matched. Like did you see Kai's horrendous lil fight club costume? Jay's atrocious tv host suit? And Cole just straight up wasn't even wearing a shirt anymore. And even when they came back together, their ninja suits still didn't match! And sure, it was meant to symbolize how disjointed they'd become in the wake of his loss, but STILL. The fact that their CLOTHES of all things were out of wack indicates to me that he's the only one on the team with any fashion sense.

And let's not forget the moment from Seabound where he decided to wear the breathing mask despite not needing oxygen because "I like how it completes my attire". And his Snake Jaguar costume!!! And his titty-out look in The Island! And not to mention how the Detective Zane outfit is a LOOK. He rocks the hell out of that trenchcoat.

This is all to say, Lego needs to release the forbidden bikini Zane content or I'm gonna break in and find it myself.

NYA

Ohoho, the fandom does Nya SOOO dirty. Especially since she's not as outwardly affectionate as Jay, so a lot of people interpret this as her being more callous and unloving towards him. She A) has a metric ton of childhood baggage, and B) expresses her affection in different ways! Jay might say 'I love you' with words more often, but she shows how much she cares through acts of service and quality time and whatnot.

Also. Hot take but Nya has some of the most compelling character arcs and subplots in this entire goddamn show. Teaming up with Dareth to spy on Chen? Overcoming her gifted child syndrome in season 5? The X Cave fight in season 7????? Struggling to keep the resistance alive even when all her friends were dead, doing everything in her power to keep Lloyd from losing hope even though they were the only ones left???????????? The entirety of Seabound??????????

The show definitely blunders often in terms of the whole sexism/performative feminism thing, for sure. Looking at you, Skybound. But she also has a LOT of character arcs where her being the Girl^TM isn't even at all relevant. Season 5. Season 7. Season 9. Season 10. Season 11. Season 15.

Anyway Nya is amazing and she deserves better from the fandom, and I will die on this hill. Nya didn't singlehandedly destroy hell itself just to be reduced to some shallow Designated Love Interest.

#also minor gripe but it bugs me when people say nya and zane arent close/dont know each other very well #like??? nya full on sobbed when zane died #and when zane lost nya...well that involves crystalized spoilers but lets just say he is Not Handling It Well #and when the og4 return from the first realm nya hugs jay and then immediately hugs zane next #and when aspheera blasted zane she was one of the first people to rush over to where hed once been standing #and their whole thing in ns7! with zanes word catalogue scrambled and nya as the only one capable of interpreting him #and zane asking nya to help with his lil video diary project in decoded #and zane and nyas reunion in season 4 gives me SO many feelings #they are BESTIES your honor #ninjago #destiny post

57 notes · View notes

ahkaahshi · 4 years

Text

things only their s/o knows about them pt. 2 [hcs]

characters: tōdō aoi, chōsō, kamo noritoshi

genre: fluff + humor

warning(s): mahito is mentioned

overview: more lighthearted hcs about random things that happen behind the scenes with these guys :)

go to part 1

⭐︎ loves watching soap operas and dramas—with or without you. he lives for the content and for the over-the-top romances

⭐︎ enjoys keeping things clean and taking care of housework, especially while wearing the apron you bought for him with a cute pattern on it (but no shirt underneath, bc when does tōdō ever keep his shirt on?). you catch him using the broom as a dance partner on occasion

⭐︎ has pulled way more muscles than he’d like to admit from trying acrobatic/calisthenics moves he’s seen fitness influencers do on social media. expect “easy! I can do that no problem!” and then finding him flat on his face outside minutes later bc he pulled his groin mid-attempt

⭐︎ has a lil scrapbook filled with pictures of you or the two of you together that he loves adding to whenever he gets the chance. The man can take a good picture considering how beefy his fingers are compared to the button on his camera. turns into a full-on art director when taking shots for you

⭐︎ is never opposed to a good ol’ slow dance with you around the house. but keep in mind this is the same man who will throw it back and expect you to catch it if the music has him feeling that way instead, no matter what you’re doing

⭐︎ has a shirt with your face printed on it that he had made to celebrate your promotion and it’s one of the few he actually wears around the house (plus if he wore it out, the chances of it being ripped off and destroyed would be significantly higher and he can’t have that happening to your precious face)

⭐︎ enjoys tinkering with things and more often than not you’ll come home to a new home modification or “improvement” of some sort (but he struggles with ikea furniture)

⭐︎ has a very sensitive neck and will wrestle you if you provoke him by tickling it bc he’s self-conscious of the way he snorts when you do. think twice about starting tickle wars with him bc he’s a very formidable opponent

⭐︎ the man has a black hole for a stomach. always order more food than you think you can eat bc he’s gonna wanna try it and will end up devouring it if you don’t smack his hand away

⭐︎ sometimes gets headaches from wearing his hair up too tight for too long and therefore appreciates head massages and forehead kisses more than anyone will ever know

⭐︎ is a fashionista who never says no to helping you put together an outfit. follows lots of street fashion pages on social media. secretly wishes more people could see his outfits, but, alas, such is the life of a curse

⭐︎ actually really enjoys playing board/video games and is a charades king (everyone fights over having him on their team), but he just hates that mahito always cheats and complains when he gets called out for cheating

⭐︎ paints in his free time. you hang his artwork around the house bc it’s so nice but always lie and say it’s not his bc he knows that if people found out they’d want him to make shit for them and he’s not down

⭐︎ eats chips out of the bag/bowl with chopsticks so he doesn’t get his fingers dirty/greasy

⭐︎ enjoys knitting. says he does it to improve the dexterity of his fingers and his patience, but you know how much he enjoys using all those mug cozies he’s made and gifting you handmade scarves. if you have a pet together, it will be wearing something he made for it (but he’ll say you bought it when someone asks)

⭐︎ hates spiders with a burning passion and will use his cursed technique to eliminate them rather than smush them or capture and free them. any damage to the walls from using said techniques is covered with pictures. everyone thinks you’re art collectors

⭐︎ extremely sentimental and always remembers special dates in your relationship, as well as the memories associated with places you’ve visited together. even if he acts like he’s forgotten anniversaries or whatnot, he’s already had something planned for months. cherishes every little thing you gift him

⭐�� bakes to relieve stress. when he’s goin thru it there will be a flight of desserts waiting for you at home

⭐︎ lets you paint his nails sometimes and always tries his best not to ruin your work afterwards

⭐︎ in spite of his haughty and aloof exterior, he always pulls a face whenever you take pictures of him (as long as nobody else is looking). he hates that you made one of them his contact picture though since he knows the face that appears on your phone every time he calls you and he just hopes nobody else knows too

⭐︎ he also sends you memes. specifically those ones that aren’t really that funny but something about the context or the image makes them funny in really unexplainable way

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #todo x reader #chōsō x reader #noritoshi x reader #jjk headcanons #x reader #reader insert #todo aoi x reader #choso x reader #kamo noritoshi x reader #tw mahito #fran writes jjk!!

2K notes · View notes

lovelysugawara · 3 years

Text

Haikyuu Boys; a kiss on the nape

A/N: haikyuu!! boys, y/n kissing their nape. idk i just love imagining them with y/n. enjoy ^^

Pairings: Osamu, Atsumu, Suna, Bokuto, Akaashi, Kuroo, Kenma, Tsukishima x reader

Osamu

-you both are enjoying the afternoon sun while resting at the bench somewhere in the city.

You are both tired of walking because it’s an enjoyable date.

-osamu’s been busy telling you stuff about his restaurant and you’re so happy hearing his voice. It’s been weeks since you last dated, and you really miss him.

-as he continues to tell you stories, you can’t help but suddenly close the gap between you two and grab his right shoulder and kiss his pretty nape.

-and when you look at him, he’s totally blushing and holding his nape.

-“Oh you did that on purpose.” he said and he suddenly grabs you for a formal kiss.

Atsumu

-it’s his rest day, and you two planned to have some movie date at his own apartment.

-you sitting on the couch and him sitting on the floor and between your legs. You like caressing his grown hair and he seems to enjoy it too.

-he’s wearing a thin white shirt, and it’s really kind of sexy because it’s also fit and you can easily see his toned body. XD

-but what you really like is his nape. You always have this urge to just bite or kiss it. And now that he’s so focused on the movie, you already got the chance.

-you bow a little and then kiss his nape.

-you really enjoy his reactions. Atsumu suddenly stands up, and touches his nape, he looks at you blushing and still shocked.

-”Y/n, you know i’m actually trying so hard not to be so aggressive, but because you did this, i have to make you pay.” he said, with so much hunger in his eyes.

-he suddenly carries you to his bedroom while deeply kissing you.

Suna

-sleeping together is actually one of your intimate times together with suna.

-hugging each other, kissing from time to time, hearing each other's heartbeats are your happy place.

-suna can sleep longer than anyone which means you actually wake up earlier because you’re already famished.

-looking at your boyfriend, you know he will soon wake up.

-”hey, why aren't you hugging me? I want my personal pillow babe.” he said while he’s a bit sleepy. “I can’t babe, I had to do our dinner. I'm hungry.” ous said despite the fact you wanted to sleep more with him.

-he looks at you with a serious face of rejection, “whatever,” he said and he turns his back from you and he hugs a pillow instead.

-you laugh a little knowing he’s a bit pissed and still sleepy. Just how much time does he need to complete his sleep? Then your attention goes to his exposed nape.

-as payment for him being snobby, you dive in and kiss his nape. Knowing he’s a bit ticklish on that part, you enjoyed seeing him blush as he looks back at you.

-”you are seriously in trouble babe.” he said and then he pulled you back to him. Enjoying the rest of the evening with lots of sweet things with him.

Bokuto

-while you prepare your dinner, bokuto is busy watching some volleyball matches in the living room. This has been his hobby for quite a long time while waiting for dinner.

-today is one of the MYSB team’s so-called day off, and the two of you had an interesting whole day to date and be with each other.

-you watch him as he enjoys watching a match and he is so engrossed in it and you felt a bit jealous. You wanted to have an intimate time with him but he’s “busy”. While being jealous you can see his wide back and that sexy nape he has while he wears a simple blue fitted shirt. God, he’s so sexy.

-you can’t resist it, and you walk towards him and pretend to just pat his hair. He automatically holds your hands and makes you hug him from behind. You struggle a little to continue your plan, until you manage you kiss his nape, sending little electricity into his body.

-he suddenly looked back, and you can see his blushing face. “y/n, what are you doing?” he said. He stands up and you know he’s not interested in watching anymore.

-you laugh as he hugs you from behind too, and starts kissing your nape too. Your laugh turns into little moans as he didn’t stop those erotic kisses.

Akaashi

-you are currently studying with akaashi at his house for the upcoming midterms. Going inside his room actually makes you a bit nervous, but you know this is akaashi. He won't do anything weird.

-looking at this man, you feel so lucky to have him as your boyfriend. He’s actually more beautiful than you (than us lmao).

-”are you bored, princess?” he noticed that you’re already daydreaming and not studying. You just pout, “this problem is so hard, I can't continue.” you stand up and go to his side to show your note.

-akasshi’s already looking at your notes, “ah, this one. I’ll show you how. Listen, you should exchange this into this one and find the value of this number…” as he continues explaining the problem to you, your attention is actually drawn to his nape. You remember that he was actually a bit ticklish on that part. And you as a naughty one, you think about doing something to try teasing him.

-a few seconds and your lips are already touching his nape. Akaashi shudders a little bit, and he automatically touches his nape after you kiss him.

-”Y/a, that is a dangerous move! I need to be patient until we graduate, or I can't stop myself.” he said while blushing.

-and you can’t help yourself but giggle at the fact he felt embarrassed saying those words.

Kuroo

-you two are quietly sitting on the couch one night and talking random things and all stuff that happens the whole day.

-kuroo tells you things while his head rests on your chest, somehow he likes hearing your heartbeat. And you enjoy it too.

-then suddenly, his phone rings and he has to sit up to answer his call. While he is still on the phone, you can’t help but admire his physique. And you really love his nape, it’s really beautiful and sexy. Since he’s busy, you wanted to tease him a little.

-hugging him from behind which shocked him, you then place your lips on his nape and kiss it. He froze a little, you enjoy his reaction, and you even lick his nape for the final act. He then chuckled a little

-” talk to you later, i have a very naughty cat here, and i have to punish it. Bye.” as he pressed the end button he looked at you, with eyes filled with desire.

-”you naughty kitty.” After he said that, he attacked you with the sweetest and wild kiss ever.

Kenma

-You two fight this morning and he chooses to ignore you.

-tired from his stream since this morning, he slipped to your shared bed that night and then hugs you. You can’t help but forgive him, because he’s so cute the way he apologizes now.

-”tired?” you asked him. “Yeah, and i’m sorry for neglecting you on your rest day.” you smiled as you hugged him back. “Yeah, it’s okay. We can have another day off next week.”

-he looks at you, and you know he’s tired and hungry. “Let me reheat the food. You haven’t had your dinner.” you sit up as you get your jacket.

-when suddenly, kenma hugs you from behind and plants kisses on your nape. When you start to moan a little, he then kisses your ear and says “actually, i’m not hungry for food, y/n.”

-and guess who didn’t have dinner tonight. XD

Tsukishima

-he’s looking at the thermometer and then he looks at you while you are in bed, comforters all over you. “Guess who's the idiot getting a fever in summer?” he then smirked. “Hey, i don’t have a fever, i’m just tired.” You said as he was getting some medicines on the medicine box.

-”yeah right, you’re just tired.” he laughs. “Guess i’ll be staying for today, hmm?” and you couldn’t be happier hearing that. “What about work?” you said. He looks at you and smirks, “i can’t let an idiot like you struggle while having a fever.” you blushed and pout at the same time. “I’m not an idiot.” you said looking away.”

-and true to his words, tsukishima didn’t go to work but stays with you. That afternoon, as you wake up, he’s reading a book sitting on the floor beside your bed. You already felt better after your rest.

-when you suddenly felt the urge to kiss him on his nape which he didn’t complain about. Giving you more access and you pulled him back to bed. He’s now laying beside you.

-”i didn’t know fever will make you this daring, y/n. I hope you know what you’re doing.” he said and he then kisses you.

719 notes · View notes

1kook · 4 years

Text

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

3K notes · View notes

bluecookies02 · 4 years

Text

Kinktober2020 -ending kink fest

Dabi,Hawks,Shigaraki(separately)-❗️NSFW❗️

warnings: consensual gun play(dabi), wax play(hawks), public sex(shigaraki)

/masterlist/

pic credit:birf on twitter. follow her, fucking follow her you'll thank me

He will put a gun to your lips, make you loll your tongue out and drool over the barrel, his finger jolting and twitching on the trigger all while his face holds a nerve-wracking smile that you can't figure out.

The truth is, you look so beautiful, your knees sore and red, slightly spread apart on the floor while the small vibrator buzzes against your clit.

He can still see the glimmer of trust behind your eyes, your eyelids hooded and pupils blown wide.

"You're so fucking crazy, you know that?" He comments as his shoe slips between your legs, your sweet juice coating the once dry leather.

You nod, reaching your arms to his pants, clawing at the fabric in attempts to finally get him out of his clothes.

The gun slips out of your mouth, the now wet pipe gliding over your tits in small circling motions, stopping briefly at your hard nipples.

It then goes back under your chin, your eyes meeting Dabi's once he kneeled down to your level, his lips hungrily pushing against yours, his tongue going as far as it can reach, a hum leaving his throat once you feverishly grip at his shirt.

His free hand slips past your slick folds, adjusting the small vibrator before filling you up with his digits.

Fuck...You're too beautiful to be left living...it's a thought that often plays in his mind, but he's selfish, wants you to himself for as long as he's alive.

His fingers expertly find your G-spot, his lips leaving yours as he takes his time looking at you, praising you and waiting for you to finally fall apart after undoubtedly agonizing hours of waiting.

"Lose yourself for me, doll."

And you do. Your orgasm is ripping through your body, your chin being held up only by a shaking gun against skin.

You manage to look at him through your almost closed eyes, his jaw tightened and his chest heaving, his whole arm trembling as you ride out your high.

He places the gun on the floor carefully before pouncing on you, trapping you beneath his arms and the floor, rubbing his clothed length against your damp hole, groaning at the way it seeps through the layers.

"I'm gonna make you wish I pulled that trigger" You smile up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, your mouth ghosting over his ear.

"Please."

pic credit:kawaiitentacles on twitter!

You're shivering under the heat, droplets of hot wax slowly cooling off on your skin, his wings spread open and waiting as the last droplets of melted wax fall over your chest.

Your body convulses at the new wave of pleasurable pain, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath.

He chose red...he always does, there's something that makes the setting ever so intimate, like you're slowly becoming his with every pearly stain on your chest.

Your pussy is smeared with drying wax, his fingers made sure your clit was completely covered in it, smearing the now barely warm liquid from your chest down to you puffy nub.

Your tits were a piece of artwork that he was sickeningly proud of, trails of red running down between them and to your belly button, some patterns obviously made by his fingers guiding the wax.

He settles the candle on the bedside table carefully, placing it back on the ceramic plate.

His cock is straining against his boxers, the perfect petal looking trail leading to your hole looks sinfully erotic, red beads all centering to your tortured clit.

You whine under his gaze, bending your legs to your knee, inviting him to slip inbetween. He does, his boxers now long gone as his cock head ghosts between your folds.

He watches the wax crack apart almost unnoticeably, each time he spreads the lips apart with his length.

He finally prods inside your heat, groaning when your legs hook behind his back.

Sometimes you wonder why he refuses to tie you down during these, but if you were to know that it's because he loves to see you jolt and shake, you would clearly tease him for being so sadistic.

Instead his arms pin yours on both sides of your head, plowing deeper in you when his chest presses against yours. It's almost too deep, fitting snuggly against your cervix and still pushing the tight walls wider.

His hips begin to move, his lips latching on your neck as he rocks his body into yours. It's passionate somehow... he can feel the wax brushing against his chest, each roll of his hips sending him even deeper in the crook of your neck.

His low rumbles and moans are so close to your ear, sending your mind into a frenzy. You're so close, so so close, yet you need just a bit more, wriggling your hips you try to find the perfect angle, getting frustrated when it takes you so long with no success.

You fight his hands while he's lost in chasing his own high, your arm freed from his grip with little struggle, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him to look at you.

The angry look on your face made him smirk, his next thrust perfectly hitting that soft patch inside.

"There you go my greedy little bird..." he whispers, moving the hairs away from your cheeks as he cups it into his palm before digging the pads of his fingers into your jaw.

His thrusts sped up, abusing the spot inside you, the clacking sound of your wet pussy filling the room. He was so close, the veins of his cock throbbing and pulsating, the fingers on your jaw tightening.

The build up became too much, headboard banging into the wall, the knot in your belly threatening to snap loose any second. Finally you felt your ears buzzing, hot waves crashing under the surface of your skin, your muscles giving out as you rode the high.

In a blink you were suddenly empty, hot ropes of cum splashing on your chest in continuous spurts, your boyfriend's groans and ruffling of feathers filling your ears.

There's a strained growl that leaves his throat when he lays next to you, his wings falling onto your chest, helping your body to stay warm as you begin to cool down.

He loves you. He can't stop saying it while he holds you to his chest, delaying the clean up just so he can say it as many times as possible.

You'll murder him if he makes you fall asleep like this, so he wills himself into getting up, not exactly agreeing to move away from you. He is picking you up and leading you to the bathroom, sending his feathers to prepare everything so he doesn't have to let go. He won't mind that you're practically asleep in his embrace...leave everything to him, he's got you.

You should've known really....

The famous wanted villain doesn't just ”feel like cinema date”.

You had your hopes up, imaginably high...Dressing up all cute and pretty. Spending hours to get ready and be perfect for your first public date.

You knew the risks, but the thought of enjoying a normal afternoon like a normal couple blinded your eyes.

None of that stopped you from spreading your legs even further apart in your seat, the lace of your panties tugged to the side as long slender fingers rubbed between your fold, smearing your arousal over your pulsing clit.

You were holding your skirt up to your tummy, one of your fists securely gripping your panties as you pushed your hips against his hand.

His intention was to get you worked up, pull you to the bathroom and have his way with you, yet he found himself lost in you muffled moans, your plump lips turning red and bruised as you dug your teeth in them.

It shouldn't matter, you were at the far end of the movie room, a few empty rows separating you and the group of guys that also came to see the film.

His other hand pulled at your chin, separating your lips and sending you a glare.

He didn't want you quiet. He wanted those bastards to turn around, be angered by the fact that a freak like him is having such a messy little slut on his sleeve.

Wetness seeped into the material of the red chairs, making the cloth a few shades darker. Your arms were now wrapped around one of his, hugging it to your chest as low whimpers left your throat.

You were squirming in your seat, making the screws screech with every movement of your hips. The sounds of your slick pussy seemingly at least 10 times louder in your ears.

His digits were now steadily pumping in and out of your warm cavern, never faltering when one of the men fake coughed, adjusting in his seat.

The movie wasn't even halfway through when you felt your high approaching.

The palm of his hand bumped into your clit with each thrust, your concerns pushed to the back of your mind the more his pace picked up.

You were now more than sure that the whole room knew, your slick cunt producing sinful sounds that were impossible to match anything else.

Tomura could feel your nails digging into the muscles of his arm, the wrinkled material of his shirt almost giving out and ripping under your clawing.

He's grinning from ear to ear, yet you can't seem to know why, his efforts doubling as he stares to the side.

You don't have the strength to move or to question his motives when you feel the electric pleasure in your stomach, the muscles there convulsing and flexing as you reach your high.

It comes not as pleasurable as it's embarrassing, the guilt eating at you as soon as you've reached your peak. Coming down from it proved even harder, Tomura’s long still fingers waiting for you to calm yourself before slipping out, cleaning them up on your skirt.

He's pulling you from your seat seconds later, rushing you out the room and out to the hallways.

”What the hell Tomura?” You try to question as you run behind him.

There's that grin again, his eyes squinting and his teeth showing only a bit.

”Cameras, they had cameras” you weren't supposed to be shocked, it's normal and pretty common, you were supposed to be aware of that.

What pisses you off is that grin that still hasn't left his face, making your brows furrow and cheeks puff up.

The nerve.

------------------------------------------------------------

Leave feedback, I’m an attention whore. Please and Thank you🥺

commisions:open( 1 slot)

requests:closed

2K notes · View notes

redorich · 3 years

Note

In the HermitCanyon au, How is my favorite Bee armored Admin doing? How long does it take for Xisuma to become.. aware of what is happening? For the first few sections it seemed like he was in a coma/unconscious. In the most recent bit Impulse tells Etho to get Xisuma, so at least theoretically he can now move, but how long has it taken him to get there, and where is he on the scale to full recovery? Are the other hermits keeping him safe with rabbit stew? (if they have rabbits that is...)

Part 2 of this.

Etho comes back twenty minutes later with a solemn look on his face. (At least, Puffy assumes. She can't actually see most of his face because of that mask of his.)

"X is in a bad way today," he says quietly. "I can take Puffy to him if you guys would like to stay here with Zedaph."

Impulse and Tango look nervously at each other. On one hand, they very much would like to stay with Zedaph, who is mostly healed but still very loopy and probably should not be moved. On the other hand, allowing Puffy deep into the Hermits' inner sanctum is a risk in and of itself, let alone with only one Hermit with her. Etho's a good fighter and a wily bastard, but Puffy is most certainly no slouch.

In the end, it comes down to trust. How much can they show Puffy before they can no longer trust that she won't snitch? How sure are they that she won't try to kill them all and steal their stuff?

"Tell Xisuma I said hi," Zedaph warbles from the bed in the corner of the room, out of any window's line of sight.

As Etho presses a button which removes a panel of the wall in a whir of piston noises, Puffy snorts out a little laugh. "I'll be sure to do that."

Tango nods subtly to Impulse. If Puffy brought Zedaph back to the canyon, saved him from a painful respawn, and didn't once ask for anything in return, then the Hermits can trust her at least this much.

Etho leads Puffy through a short hallway into a large circular room with a domed ceiling. The room is mostly quartz, though the walls are lined with sea lanterns and oak leaves. It’s beautiful. This place has been hiding under her feet this whole time?

“This is the Atrium,” Etho says, “or at least the main one. Come on, getting a mule will be more trouble than it’s worth if you’re not carrying anything.”

Puffy is speechless, utterly and profoundly, when Etho takes her through a tunnel on the opposite side of where she entered. It almost looks as though the tunnel here was carved by hand, then completely redone in dirt and grass and vines to give it a secretive, high fantasy look.

“Hey, Etho!” says a dark-haired man with a big smile as he comes trotting out of a branching hallway to the left. “Hey--” He catches sight of Puffy and his smile dissipates into panic. He shouts incoherently and dives back into the hallway he just exited.

“Hey Bdubs,” Etho greets impishly, then turns to Puffy. “Man, it’s like he saw a ghost or something. Maybe Mothman.”

Puffy bleats out a surprised laugh. Up ahead, she spots another Hermit lurking around the corner of the archway Etho is leading her toward.

“Etho,” says a tall blonde woman. “Cleo wants to talk to you about, er...” The blonde woman glances at Puffy. “Her thing,” she finishes lamely.

“Well, as you can see, I’m a bit busy at the moment. Would you mind telling Cleo so she doesn’t skin me alive?” Etho says sweetly.

The blonde woman snorts. “Face the music, Mothman. I’ll take care of Puffy from here. I assume you’re taking her to Xisuma?”

Etho wilts. Clearly, whoever this Cleo person is, she’s not someone to piss off. Puffy wonders what Etho did.

“See ya around,” Etho waves, somehow both cheery and morose at the same time, like a funeral for someone nobody liked. Puffy and the blonde woman watch him go.

“My name’s False, by the way,” the blonde woman says. “Thanks for the bandanna. Normally I’d be wearing it, but I just got back from beating up Iskall.”

The woman-- False-- laughs. Puffy is once again taken aback by the idea that the Hermits actually use the items that she makes for them.

False takes off in a brisk walk toward the archway she’d come out of. Jumping a little bit at being torn from her thoughts, Puffy hurries to follow. It’s hard to keep up, since all Puffy wants to do is stare. She must be in the living quarters-- they let her in the living quarters?! Each door matches the high fantasy, underground sort of aesthetic, but a few doors are left open and each one is remarkably different on the inside. One room is built entirely out of red and white concrete, whereas another is Nether-themed with actual fire, and the room down the hall is entirely underwater!

One door is different. It’s got blue-purple banners along the frame, and when False opens the door for Puffy, she can see that the room is made of blackstone bricks. Maps of the Dream SMP line the wall, and in the center of the room there is a mildly ornate table made of warped wood.

At the end of the table in the back of the room, opposite the door, sits a trio. To the left, there is a plain-looking man with a beard and an “at” symbol on his shirt. He speaks in a Southern accent to a man on the right side of the table, who wears a red sweater and twirls a feather between his fingers like the cat that got the canary.

In between the two, at the head of the table, rests someone very unique. He’s obviously tall, that much is obvious even when he’s sitting down. He’s also got mesmerizing purple eyes which glow faintly against the dark of the blackstone. Puffy doesn’t know why, but she gets the feeling that they’re supposed to be glowing much brighter.

As taken by the man’s eyes as she is, Puffy doesn’t notice the non-invasive breathing tube the man also has (a cannula? She doesn’t know what it’s called, but that sounds right) until the man’s gaze falls upon her, still standing in the doorway next to False.

“Oh,” the man says. “You’re not supposed to be here. Welcome.”

False steps forward, breaking Puffy from her trance. “Puffy, this is Xisuma, Joe, and Grian. I’d introduce you to them as well, but... you know.”

“I don’t know-- oh,” Puffy says awkwardly, catching sight of the massive crochet blanket she’d made for the Hermit months ago, draped across Xisuma’s shoulders.

“Why are you here?” Grian asks with a tilted head. “No offense or anything, but I just lost a bet. I had three diamonds on Cub bringing you in here eventually-- he’s the one you usually meet at the barrel, you know.”

False interjects, “I didn’t bring her down here, it was Etho!”

“Shoot,” Joe says. “Cleo wins yet again.”

“It was Zedaph, actually,” Puffy says. All eyes turn to her. “I found him on the surface. He was really injured, so I brought him back here. Impulse and-- Tango? Yeah, Tango-- told Etho to take me down here.”

Puffy uncharacteristically twiddles her fingers a little bit, feeling in over her head. “Uh, you know I’m not gonna tell or anything, so... Why am I here?”

The full weight of Xisuma’s piercing stare falls upon her. Even as fragile as he looks, even as strong as Puffy is, she feels a jolt of apprehension.

“You’d know more about the red vines than we do,” he begins. “Etho mentioned that they’re what hurt Zedaph; he’s mentioned them on multiple occasions, and never in a good way. How long do you think it would take for those vines to reach our village, and what do you think would happen once they do?”

“As far as we’re aware, there are several players who are proponents of the vines, and claim they originate from some sort of egg?” Joe adds. “I’ve had a hard time calculating how big of a mushroom we’d need to make an omelet out of the egg, but apparently most of my fellow Hermits do not in fact want evil eggs on their omelets.”

“And how come the End is inaccessible?” Grian cuts in with a whine. “I want my elytra.”

Xisuma huffs a laugh into the cannula. “As you can see, we have many questions which only a native Dream SMP player like yourself can answer. In the interest of keeping ourselves safe--” he trails off into a coughing fit.

Puffy bites her lip, feeling as though she really shouldn’t be seeing this. Joe rests his hand on Xisuma’s back.

“You give us answers, and we’ll give you diamonds, netherite, whatever you want. And when we move out-- well, it wasn’t much of a secret anyway-- we’ll offer you a safe place with us,” Grian speaks up on Xisuma’s behalf.

A thousand thoughts spin inside Puffy’s head. She feels like Dorothy in that tornado, and Grian’s offer is the Wicked Witch. “Did you guys really save Tommy’s life?” she finds herself asking.

The Hermits seem taken aback.

“The blond kid?” False asks. “Yeah, but he was unconscious the whole time. I think Scar told the kid to keep us a secret, but... I don’t think any of us expected that to actually work.”

Puffy laughs disbelievingly. “He’s the one person on the entire server who keeps insisting that you guys aren’t real.”

“That’s good to hear,” Xisuma says quietly. “Do you have an answer for us, or would you like some time to consider?”

There are a thousand and one variables Puffy needs to think about. What is Dream’s stance on the Hermits? Who will she be setting herself against by allying with the Hermits? What will Puffy have to expect, from both underground and surface-dwelling players alike? Which players can she take in a fight?

Fuck it, she thinks. “You’ve got yourselves a deal.”

Xisuma smiles. Despite his ill condition, she gets the feeling that this nice, mild-mannered man is far more dangerous than she could ever hope to be.

“I’m glad to have you on our side, Puffy,” he says. “Thank you for your help.”

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit canyon au #captain puffy #ethoslab #zedaphplays #impulsesv #tango tek #xisuma #bdubs #zombiecleo #falsesymmetry #iskall85 #joe hills #grian #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #me.cpp #me.txt

465 notes · View notes

ithehellisbucky · 3 years

Text

Waking Up In Vegas

spencer reid x reader

request: prompts 87 (boop), 88 (that's such a bad idea- lets do it), 89 (Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool), 96 (I'm not crying, you are.) by anon

word count: 1.7k

warnings: Mentions of drug addiction, heavy drinking and blackout, that's it.

author's note: I've had this in my inbox for months, and I'm so sorry I didn't finish it sooner. Also, what do you want to see from my blog, it seems like I only post once a week for my fics and that's a no go from me.

~~~

The light was too loud- that's a wonderful thing to think when you remember nothing of the night before. You groaned and sat up, seeing that you were in a large bed with white covers. You scratched your head and looked around, noticing that the bedboard behind you was a large pink heart.

Looking down you realize that you're wearing a sequined red bikini top and a skirt scarf combo with booty shorts underneath. Drunk you does not have good fashion sense.

Before you can notice anything else, you start to feel puke crawling up your throat and you immediately run and vomit all your guts up.

You rinse your mouth out and notice that the blanket mound you left has shifted, and you become wary and pick up a heavy brass candlestick.

And then the lump rolls over, and it's your goddamn coworker.

"Reid?"

He startles and wakes up, staring at you and then glancing down at himself- huh, there was something wrong about that picture, but you couldn't figure out what it was just yet.

"y/n? What are you doing in my hotel room?" He pauses, looks around, then mutters under his breath "this isn't my hotel room."

He looks up at you "Since when are you married?"

"I'm not," You look down at your hand, noticing a giant red ruby adorning your ring finger "I am."

You look down at his hand and notice that he is too, "And so are you."

You and Spencer look around your room, both badly masking paranoia and panic. Both of your eyes stop when you notice a picture frame in the corner- a wedding certificate.

"Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool. This is fine, no big deal, just a marriage certificate," You move over and pick it up "with both of our names on it."

"Okay, this is okay, this is fine," Spencer says, sitting back down on the bed stunned.

"So, we're married, which is a thing that happened, last night, that you definitely remember." You say, sitting down next to your newly revealed husband.

"I don't remember."

"How do you not remember? You have super memory powers!"

"This is an excellent first fight to have as a married couple, of course, you blame me." He says, standing up and shrugging.

You meet his stance "Of course I blame you! You're the smart one!"

"Oh, well Agent, I wasn't aware that you had an IQ of 25!" He pauses "25 is the number associated by Henry H. Goodard to be an idiot, it's actually-"

"I know!" You exclaim, seething with half-hearted rage.

"You know, your the one who got an addict drunk!"

"Your vice isn't alcohol! If I drugged you I'd be a monster! You ordered that first bloody mary all by yourself, and those shots we did were totally consensual!!!"

He looked up at you "you remember that?"

You think, and notice memories that you didn't know were there, "um, yeah, bits and pieces."

From the expression he makes, he looks to be remembered more too. You and your new husband sit down and let it all hit you.

~~~

"4 tequila shots please." You wave down the bartender.

You're already buzzed, but you and Spencer were just getting warmed up. Morgan and Garcia left hours ago to go to a fancy restaurant, Rossi was planted firmly at the poker table, Hotch was nowhere to be seen, JJ had gone home to be with Henry, and Emily was at a "sin to win" night at some casino that you already knew too much about just by hearing the name.

So that leaves you and Spencer at the bar in the only casino in town he wasn't banned from.

At first, you were concerned about him drinking, but once he reassured that alcohol isn't his way of self-medicating, you were okay. Besides, if you saw any red flags, you would throw his ass in rehab faster than you can say 'gin'.

So, you were 5 drinks in and having the time of your lives, showing off battle scars and laughing. God, his eyes were pretty.

"Your eyes are so pretty!" You giggled "like soooooo pretty, woooooooow."

He laughed and looked back at you "your skin is pretty, like in a non-serial killer way, it's really pretty."

"Thank you, just don't kill me for it."

"I just called no murder!" He whined "besides, how am I sure you won't kill me and scoop my eyes out?"

"Because that's gross." You said, rolling your eyes.

"And stealing your skin isn't?"

"You can' have my skin!" You say, mock running away.

He laughs, and looks directly into your eyes, and smiles, wow, he was pretty. Morgan was right.

"Hey, do you wanna get out of here?" Spencer asks you.

"Yeah, let's get ice cream!" You grab his hand, and it feels natural through your foggy brain.

After stumbling through the ice cream parlor, full of people who were trying to pretend like they weren't. Spencer got butter pecan, and you got sherbert and chocolate.

You stumbled out of the store, giggling to yourself and Spencer.

God, you loved him. So you told him.

"I love you." He stopped in his tracks, and you almost tripped on a bicycle rack.

"Really?" He whispers.

All of the giggles are gone.

"I love you."

The ice cream is long forgotten, his on the ground, and half of yours on your clothes and half next to his on the ground. All that's left is your faces inching closer to each other.

When your lips meet it feels like firecrackers going off inside your head.

His mouth is soft, gently contrasting with your soft lips. His tongue sneaks into your mouth, your smile around his.

"Let's get married." He pulls apart from you, out of breath.

You stay silent for a moment, before looking up and directly into his chocolate brown eyes "That is such a bad idea-"

He diverts his eyes and scratches the back of his skull "Um, yeah, that's okay, let's-"

"Let's do it."

He looks back at you, and you grab his body and kiss him.

~~~

Sometimes people can be happy, you realize as an elderly woman ties a sash around your waist.

You have to be honest, you never thought this was gonna be how you were gonna get married. Hell, you weren't sure if you were gonna get married at all. But certainly not like this. Certainly not at 1 am to your coworker 7 drinks in at a cheap roadside attraction.

Definitely not like this.

But something about this weirdness felt like the only way anything ever would've made any sense.

There was something about the outfit you were wearing that was perfect, a bright red bra covered in sequins underneath a top with buttons and poofy sleeves that showed off a lot of your chest, a wrap-around cheap white silk skirt with jeans shorts underneath. And of course purple open-toed boots. Perfect.

Marrying Spencer Reid is like a fever dream. A perfect man with perfect hair and perfect eyes. So of course you were giggling like crazy while they put the cheap crown with pink tulle serving as a veil on your head.

Your witnesses were an elderly couple, of course, you wanted to have your best friends there, but knowing them they'd try to talk you out, and believe me, there was no way you wanted out of it.

"Now's time dear," the woman exclaims, gently patting you on the shoulder and leading you out of the fitting room and towards the chapel.

The owner of the business hooks his arm around yours and leads you into the chapel, church bells from an iPod attached to a speaker ringing out into the air.

Spencer turns around the air visibly leaves his lungs when you make eye contact. The chapel you two had chosen in this drunken haze was costume-themed, and he was wearing an ancient Rome costume that fit the time where his favorite philosopher, so even though no one else noticed, you could tell he was dressed as Gaius.

His hair had been attempted to slick back, but little curls were popping up all over the place instead. He was wringing his hands tightly and bouncing his knee, god you couldn't wait to marry him.

The elderly man who had led you to the alter places you next to Spencer, you couldn't focus on anything but your soon-to-be-husband.

Spencer takes his hands and gently pulls your veil up from around your face, and a tear trickles out of his eyes as he sees you. You smile and notice his nerves, try to calm the love of your life down "boop", you gently tap his nose and he smiles in comfort.

The officiant drones on and on about love but you can't hear him, all you can focus on is his love-filled eyes.

"Do you take Spencer Reid to be your husband?"

Your eyes snap out of their daze and you say with the most certainty than you have ever said anything: "I do."

"And do you take (y/n) (y/l/n) to be your life partner for as long as you may live?"

"I do," And you feel more wanted than you ever have in your life, he wants you, Spencer wants you.

~~~

You and Spencer sit on your bed in stunned silence, neither believing that last night had really happened. You look over at your apparent husband and notice tears streaming down his face.

"You're crying." You say, your voice coming out as a chocked whisper.

"I'm not crying, you are." You look down and notice that your shirt is soaked in tears.

"Oh." You take a deep breath and look into his eyes. "So, what do you want to do?"

"Get an annulment?" He doesn't look completely happy about his answer and stares into your eyes for reassurance.

You take a deep breath and stare off into the distance, out into a world that would be so much better if you were married to Spencer Reid. "I don't want that."

You look back at him to meet his eyes, "Me neither."

"I love you, a lot, and I want to be married to you." Spencer smiles, and you feel wanted and safe and loved.

Instead of saying it back, he kissed you with a passion that was way more descriptive than simple words. Spencer is your husband and you love him, he loves you, and you are finally wanted.

My Masterlist

Requests are open!

~Taglists are open~

Permanent Tags: @natasha-danvers

Marvel:

Criminal Minds:

183 notes · View notes

deltas-writing-corner · 3 years

Text

Tsukumo Yuki relationship headcanons

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Tsukumo Yuki x reader

Author note: Tsukomo Yuki is the reason I love woman and she can crush me between her thighs send tweet

Warnings: Potential manga spoilers (?) | Mentions of s*x, but nothing too blatantly explicit. I would still prefer it if minors did not interact with this post in any way.

Yuki always asks the people she meets what type of woman they like. If someone were to ask that same question back to her, she’ll most certainly utter back your name as if it were an obvious response.

What’s not to love about you? You’re cute. You make her laugh. You cook for her because heaven knows she can't if her life depended on it. Most importantly, you keep her company due to the lack of curses she’s ever sent to exorcise. Traveling the world is fun and all, but it’s even more fun with you by her side!

You’re not a sorcerer. You can’t even see curses. Yuki is a childhood friend of yours and has kept you in the loop regarding the world of jujutsu sorcery since she started integrating into it. She thinks it’s important for you to know that someone like you, a non-curse user who has no control over the curse energy you create, should know what exactly your negative emotions can lead to. It’s not to make you feel bad or pin blame on you in any way. It’s her way of protecting you beyond physical means as well as a way of showing you that she places a great deal of trust in you regarding the nature of her line of work and her true goals.

Because she rejects the methods of the higher-ups and her ideology is more along the lines of putting an end to the creation of curses permanently instead of letting them manifest and dealing with them when they start causing profound trouble, you’re often the one that has to listen to all her new, sometimes overreaching, hypotheses now and then. You may even take part in her research, but she would never put you in any sort of harm! At least, not unless you give her the okay to. Be warned, if you give your blessing to be her little lab rat she’s prone to get carried away with her methods. Speak up if she’s doing something outrageous or if she’s making you uncomfortable. Otherwise, you might end up in some precarious situations.

As mentioned previously, Yuki isn’t sent out on missions that often, if ever. She instead chooses to travel in and out of the country, for the sake of her research as well as for the pleasure of it. Since she’s one of three, later four, special grade sorcerers her salary is rather tremendous. Unfortunately, her travels outside Japan are “unauthorized” and sometimes her funds get frozen by the higher-ups. Her quick solution to the matter is to fly back, take on a mission or two to get her funds unfrozen (and into your account because you’re her partner-in-crime) or even take on a mission to earn some more funds, and then you and her are right back to traveling the world again.

During one of these money replenishing heists, she met a kid that she took a particular interest in and wanted to mentor, Aoi Todo. It’s hard for most people to spark her interest to the extent Todo did, so you happily supported her endeavors and even met with her young pupil a few times throughout the years. Her methods of training are a bit....extreme, to put it lightly. You understand that holding back her punches will only hinder Todo’s progress instead of allowing him the ability to improve and push past his limits, but you can’t help but flinch over the large scar that marks his face whenever you briefly meet up with him.

Todo is eccentric, but so is Yuki. Perhaps not idol obsessed like Todo, but seeing the way he takes great care of his appearance and flaunts his body (during a battle even), he’s a near-identical clone of Yuki. She knows that she’s good-looking, and she will always flaunt this fact to anyone with working eyes, even you! Does it work every single time? Yes. Yes, it does.

Honestly, how can it not? She’s tall. She has a great butt. She drives a motorcycle. Her tight biker pants are your Achilles heels and she knows it. Sometimes she’ll wear them around the house just to flaunt her curves and other bodily goods, even if it’s the middle of the summer, the AC is broken and the pants are made of stuffy leather material. If it gets your face all heated up, she'll wear it.

The compliments she gets from strangers are nice and all, but it’s your reactions she truly cares about. You’ve been by her side through it all. You're still sticking with her even despite the fact that she’s constantly moving around and living a somewhat free-spirited lifestyle. You genuinely support and help her when almost everyone else has rejected her methods and ideals and brush her off as some lazy, outrageous-thinking woman. Really, you stole this woman’s heart just by letting her be herself, a lazy, outrageous-thinking woman.

Yuki is indeed lazy, to the point it sometimes affects you and your shared apartment is left in a week-long accumulated mess. I’m talking clothes strewed about and spilling out the already full laundry basket, sink filled with dirty dishes, houseplant half dead due to insufficient watering, and little dusty bunnies in the corner of the room. Whenever you try to get around to getting your living space in order, she always drags you back to the bed with her either to nap some more or for a quick round of sex that leads to more napping. Eventually, you have to beat her with a pillow and threaten her with no sex for a certain period of time to get her to back off, which always works without fail.

If you really hold the “no sex until...” ultimatum over her head long enough, she’ll even pitch in and help you clean. But to be honest she kinda sucks at it so it’s sometimes better to just have her sit on the sidelines while you do all the work. She’ll jokingly suggest you clean with just an apron on (because she’s a freak like that), but you haven’t taken her up on the suggestion just yet. It’s mostly because you’ll use the “naked apron” method to further insinuate her punishment if your usual threat begins to lose its potency (because you are also a freak like that).

She’s a bad sleeping partner. Not only does she hog all the blankets and pillows, but she even stretches out her limbs over the entire bed. This usually leaves you curled up in a corner shivering your ass off until you either fall asleep via exhaustion or move to the couch. If you go to the couch, she’s 99.9% likely to wake up and join you shortly after, where she’s less of a hassle to deal with because of the limited space.

She’s a great big spoon, which is actually one of the ways you later use to solve her troublesome habits as once she latches onto you, she will not let go the rest of the evening. Unfortunately, she also snores terribly loud, but it’s nothing earbuds can’t fix.

Some might think she sleeps in something flattering, maybe even a bit scanty. That couldn’t be any further from the truth. Her pj’s are decades-old shirts and gym shorts that she never got around to getting rid of. If not that, she’ll sleep completely naked and she doesn’t care if someone walks in on her with the covers off. She’ll only ever wear lingerie or other promiscuous pieces of clothing if she has intentions of getting between your legs and rocking your world for the rest of the night.

I think it goes without saying that she looks great in lace, but as hot as she may look, she really likes seeing you dressed up in something risque as well.

If you’re female, she sometimes likes to wear matching lingerie sets with you, but her favorite material to see you in is leather, especially those harness-styled sets that squeeze your flesh all around.

If you’re male, she’s a complete sucker for a man in a clean-cut, custom-tailored suit and will take it off as soon as you put it on. Hope you don’t mind losing a button or two, because she will pop them off for sure when she rips your dress shirt off of you.

To all my gender-neutral folks, It’s never too late to whip out that naked apron I mentioned earlier! Or a leather jacket. Everyone looks great in a leather jacket!

Yuki’s diet is fucking terrible. You’re a decent cook, but despite this, all she ever seems to want is greasy take-out food that makes you wonder how the hell she’s still so fit after witnessing her down three chicken burritos in one sitting. Even when the two of you are abroad and are able to try out different types of cuisines not so readily available in Japan, she’ll still want to go out to a fast food joint that you can easily find everywhere. You’ve tried to get her to branch out of her comfort zone and eat somewhat healthier alternatives of her favorite foods, but so far you’ve gotten mixed results.

In summary: Yuki is a pretty outgoing person and sometimes can be a bit of a hassle to deal with, but she’s clearly ambitious and moves to the tune of her own beat. Her goal of finding and effectively eliminating the source of all curses is a testament to the fact that she wants to save future generations from having to carry the burden sorcerers have been carrying for thousands of years. Her goals are not only for the sake of the people who will come after her, but also for the sake of her future with you. You’re someone she genuinely cares for and wishes to spend the rest of her life with, evident by the numerous times she’s come clean to you about her fears of you dying when she isn't around to protect you or of her dying and leaving you behind to mourn during late-night pillow talks in hotels or in your shared home. A future where you and her can travel the world and truly take in and enjoy the sights and wonders instead of searching for an answer to one of the world’s greatest phenomenon is a future worth fighting for, even if she’s met with some pushback or the end goal seems like nothing more than a pipedream at times. So long as you’re there with her to see her research bear fruit, she’ll keep testing and coming up with new methods to eliminate curses permanently, no matter the extremes her research takes her to.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk x reader #yuki tsukumo #tsukumo yuki #jjk #writing #reader insert #gender neutral reader #female reader #male reader #jjk headcanons #minors dni

135 notes · View notes

sageinacage · 3 years

Note

ok retry because tumblr deleted the prompt from your askbox >:( how about a fic with lee!eret and ler!foolish where foolish knew that eret was ticklish in the past, and now in present day, he wants to know if that fact is still true and tries to discover it for himself? i love ur fics btw!!! :D

Old Pal summary: foolish is curious if his old friend eret is still ticklish. a/n: THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING THEIR DYNAMIC I APOLOGIZE THAT ITS PROBABLY A BIT OOC BAHAHA warnings: n/a w/c: 1.6k DSMP, Platonic

‘Was the sun always this bright?!’ Foolish squinted in thought, looking up at the clear sky as he raised his hand to block the rays of light aimed right at his face. He huffed, lowering his hand and leaning against the furnaces he set up in his construction area.

It was a sunny afternoon, a light breeze brushing through the leaves on the trees scattered around the area. Foolish was busy today, working on the mansion he was commissioned to build for his friends Ranboo and Tubbo. It was a beautiful building so far, so much done but so much to do still.

“What time is it?” The shark-totem hybrid asked himself, opening his inventory to grab ahold of his clock. He smiled to himself. It was only one in the afternoon, a perfect time for a lunch break.

He walked down the path, going back to town. As Foolish walked, he took the time to look around, looking at the buildings around him. He smiled as nostalgia filled his heart, then filling at a newfound speed when he saw the castle.

Arriving at the gates of the castle after a swift speed-walk, he walked in. You see, his old pal Eret lived in the walls of the gorgeous castle, and Foolish was one loving guy and just wanted to see his friend.

“Eret- King Eret? Are you hooome?!” He called out, chuckling at the echo he heard. Amused by the echo, Foolish kept on yelling. “Yoo-hoo, Eret! Your pal is here!” He continued to shout, laughing at each echo he heard back. About to shout again, he heard a chuckle; one that didn’t belong to himself. Foolish whipped around, seeing a person wearing the signature sunglasses of his friend.

“Eret!”

“How’s my friend doing?” They smiled, opening his arms for a hug. Foolish, being much taller than the monarch, bent down to surround them in a tight hug, lifting them up with him as he stood up straight. “Alrihight, put me down, Foolish!” Eret laughed warmly, being put back down on their feet only after a dramatic whine from the hybrid.

“Still a big softie, I see?” The monarch chuckled, fixing their shades which got tilted from the big hug Foolish gave. “Eret, you’re talking like I haven’t seen you in years. Well- I mean, it has been a while…” He rubbed the back of his head, bashfully smiling at the light chortles Eret produced. “It has been a while, you goof.”

The two had some good laughs as they ate lunch together, catching up on what has been going on in each other's lives; but also talking about memories they remember. One really stuck with Foolish, a memory of when they used to playfully fight all the time. By ‘playfully fight,’ I mean tickle each other.

“Foolish, do you remember our old tickle fights? Those were always so fun.”

Did they just read his mind? Foolish’s eyes widened before he composed himself, smiling. “Yeah, I usually won them as well.” He sniggered, earning an exaggerated gasp from his friend. “You did not! I was usually the victor, don’t lie to yourself!” Eret laughed, picking up Foolish’s and their plates to bring them to the kitchen.

Foolish smiled to himself, then looked up in thought. ‘Were they still ticklish? Could someone even lose ticklishness? Am I still ticklish?’ The hybrid hummed as thoughts played in his mind, not noticing Eret’s fond smile at the doorway of the living room. “Whatcha thinking about there, pal?” They smiled, Foolish cowered sheepishly at the sudden voice.

“Oh- Eret! I didn’t notice you were b- back already!”

“You’re nervous. What’s on your mind?”

“N… Nothing!”

“I don’t believe that, Foolish.” The monarch sighed, sitting on the soft couch near the table. “Why don’t you sit down?” Eret offered, Foolish slowly making his way to sit next to them on the pillow-filled couch.

“Are you sick? You’re quite red.” They furrowed their eyebrows, placing the back of their palm on Foolish’s forehead. “I’m fine, I promise!” Foolish smiled, snickering to himself at how Eret really never changed. They’ve always been so kind and caring, always taking care of their friends and people who mean loads to them.

“You’re lost in thought again, friend.” Eret smiled, the other crossing his arms. “You can tell me what’s on your mind, you know I wouldn’t judge you for anything.”

“Are you ticklish, Eret?” Foolish blurted out, Eret’s raising their eyebrows in surprise, but melting into a soft smile. “Why were you so nervous to ask that, you goof? Though I don’t know if I am… maybe? Who knows.” Eret thought, before chuckling at Foolish’s sudden expression: it was a mix of surprise and happiness. It was a quiet moment- until Foolish’s little smirk turned into a wide, toothy grin.

“Let’s test it. I think it’s fair if I reclaim a few victories of my own, yeah?” Foolish giggled evilly before diving his fingers down to squeeze their waist. The sudden jerk the monarch produced exposed the truth. Yes, Eret was still ticklish. Definitely.

“Fooholihish!” Eret laughed playfully, holding Foolish’s wrists; but not pushing him away. “Aha! So you are still ticklish!” Foolish excitedly announced, his squeezing fingers turning into fluttering fingertips up Eret’s ribs over their dress shirt. “Nihihice obsehervation!” The sassiness is definitely still there as well, apparently.

Foolish hummed in thought, trying to remember any sweet spots. You could practically see a lightbulb appear over his head as his face lit up. “Whahat are you plahanni-IHIHAHAHA- FOOLISH!” Eret squealed, throwing themself back on the couch. Foolish’s hands gently squeezed up and down their thighs, eventually settling on the spot right above their kneecap.

Laughing at the sudden cackle, Foolish stopped his squeezing to just rake his slight claws up and down their thighs instead. “It looks like getting a victory will be easier than I thought, huh?”

Eret shook their head. “You neheed to t- try haharder than thahat, paha-AHAHAL, NOHOT THEHERE!” They threw their head back, glasses almost flying off as the squeezing started up again, moving to the under-sides of their thighs. The mix of squeezes and raking on the backs of their thighs was driving Eret mad, the feeling nearly unbearable.

“Fiiine, it would be fun to figure out your tickle spots allll over again, don’t you think?” Foolish sniggered, slipping his hands out from under them, only to wiggle his fingers over Eret’s stomach. They immediately sucked their stomach in on reflex, squirming gently to get away from the impending claws over his belly.

“Oh? What’s wroooong, Eret? You think you can get away from my tickles? Is that it?” Foolish raised an eyebrow, lowering his hands before Eret could get a word of retaliation out. The monarch kicked their legs, arms crashing down to weakly shove at the attacking hands. “F- FOOHOLISH! SHUHUSH!” Eret let out more high-pitched giggles, a few hiccups peppering through their laughing fit.

“No, I don’t think I will. It’s fun to talk about how ticklish you are, and how much I’m gonna tickle tickle tickle you! Laugh for me!” The hybrid teased, cooing little noises at the monarch as he wagged a single claw over their ribs, as his other hand prodded on the side of their belly. “Oooh, maybe instead of the ‘King of the SMP,’ you could be the ‘King of Giggles!’ I like that better. What do you think about that, King?”

Eret shook their head, face growing red and warm at the new title bestowed onto them. “STOHOP T- TAHALKING!” They playfully rebuttal, earning a head shake from Foolish. “That wasn’t very nice, King of Giggles! I think I should humble you a little bit, yeah?” Before Eret could retaliate, their words evaporated into nervous giggles as they felt the bottom buttons of their dress shirt come undone.

“Y’know Eret, a while ago when we had these tickle fights, you always did something that made me lose every time. Do you remember what that was?” Foolish started, then smirked. “I believe the technique is called a ‘raspberry.’ Does that ring a bell, Eret? I bet it does, you’re blushing right now.” He smiled, pushing the bottom of their shirt aside.

As they felt cold air brush over their belly, shivers rushed over them and butterflies erupted in their stomach, now excited giggles bubbling up from their throat. “Juhust do ihit!” Eret complained, digging their heels into the couch behind Foolish.

He laughed, leaning down. “Alriiight, you technically asked for it, though!” Foolish smirked at Eret before planting a large raspberry right underneath their navel. Screw Foolish and his strong shark lungs. “F- FOOLIHISH- YOHOHOU WIHIHIHIN- I GIHIVE! PLEHEHASE!” Eret managed to get out through their laughter, grabbing a pillow to protect themselves with as they caught their breath.

“One win for Foolish, let’s go! Looks like I’m in the lead now.” Foolish crossed his arms triumphantly, a proud smile plastered on his face. “Wehe’re tahallying up wihins now?” Eret asked, fixing their crooked glasses. The hybrid nodded at them, putting his hands on his hips as he stood up.

“Hmm, I better get my lead back then.” Eret smirked, Foolish’s proud grin shifting into a skittish smile. “Wh- what? Wait, Erehet. Yohou don’t need toho!” He shook his head, putting his arms out in front of him as a ‘defensive mechanism.’

“Watch yourself, old pal. I think it’s time I discover your tickle spots now.”

#mcyt tickle #dsmp tickle #lee!eret #ler!foolish #my writing

87 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

feline-nasty

Can I really enter your world?

rens0ft

𝑅𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑐𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑜𝑠

feline-nasty

Can I really enter your world?

theweaverofworlds-official

chasing the world's vastness

odd-lee

_Oddlee_