Tumgik
#you all look like ANTS to him now
Mishima should not be 2 kilometers tall and towering over the landscape!
Kazumi Mishima shouldn't be 2 kilometers tall!
Tumblr media
35 notes · View notes
sanjifucker42069 · 7 months
Text
Looks Like Lingerie to Me - Part Two
Tumblr media
Word Count: 1.4k
Part 1
A belated and awkward part 2. I’ll start writing part 3 in the morning (it’s like 1am lmao)
For those who need a visual aid, here. (oof feels like wattpad or quotev but girlypops i am cringe but i am free. it isnt a perfect representation, but its pretty accurate. titilating, no? ;) )
Warnings: Lingerie lmao…this is pretty short, and is just a set-up for part 3. A lot of this is my own feelings surrounding cis men in lingerie. As with part 1 gender neutral reader. Yeah! Hope you enjoy!
---------------------------------------
Sanji couldn't stop thinking about it. You thought he'd look hot in lingerie? You thought he looked slutty?
It had overtaken every waking moment. Any time he wasn't focused on a task all he could see was the dumb stare you gave him, eyes focused on his thighs.
He'd love to wear lingerie for you if it meant you'd stare at him like that.
----------------------
The Going Merry was docked, the Straw Hats carrying out their duties, and Sanji had a plan.
"I'm gonna go shopping. You coming (Name)? Sanji can carry our bags." Nami preened, looking absolutely glowing at the prospect of new clothes. Sanji bit his lip. He wanted to go with Nami and you, really he did, but if either of you caught on he'd die of embarrassment.
"You okay, Ji?"
Huh?
You were asking something.
"What? Oh, yeah, love. I'm fine. I'm afraid I have business to attend to on the island."
You blinked at him before smiling that dazzling smile up at him. He was smitten, his fortitude nearly wavering. "Of course. You do what you gotta do!"
Business his ass. Instead he hurried to check out the town.
----------------------
A small, seedy shop tucked away in an alley. Sanji entered the store warily. A small, old woman trotted out from the back. Sanji blanched. He didn't want to discuss this with a grandma! 
"Hello young man, here for something for your wife?"
Sanji felt himself flush. He tried to wander around the store. "No, no-"
"Your girlfriend then?" 
Ah. This grandmother didn't know when to quit.
"Not exactly?"
The old lady grabbed his arm. Sanji raised a brow, turning back to her. She was grinning at him, eyes narrowed and sparkling with something he couldn't place.
"Is it for you? Such a handsome young man as yourself." 
What? Sanji's face was on fire. He was flustered beyond belief. His hands were lightly shaking, eyes darting around for anyone else in the store.
"Come with me darling. My name's Bea." The old lady chimed, dragging Sanji with her. "What colour were you thinking?"
"Oh, um." Sanji was panicking, voice high. Did she even have lingerie for men? "Blue?" 
Bea hummed. "I do have blue, but I have a lovely pink set that would just make your skin pop."
Pink? Sanji didn't think it was possible to flush darker, and yet here he was. "I, uh, would it even fit me?"
"Of course sonny! You're quite slim." Bea swatted at his arm, patting his biceps for good measure as she led him through the store. "So, tell me about the lucky one."
"They're beautiful." Sanji began dreamily. Where should he even start? "The most gorgeous creature I've ever laid my eyes on. They have this laugh that just brightens up any room, and such a sense of humour. I’ve been smitten with them since I met them.”
“You two aren’t together?”
Sanji shook his head sadly. “No, no. We’re just good friends. They, uh… Do you know what shirt stays are?”
Bea laughed, patting the cook on the arm. “Say no more.”
She let go of him when they reached the back of the store. Sanji watched nervously as she carded through a rack of, well, did it really constitute clothing? Skimpy piece after skimpy piece were revealed.
And then he saw it.
It was a gorgeous baby pink. Bea ahhed as she removed it from the rack, holding it up to inspect it. She turned to face him, sizing him up next to the set. Sanji felt his throat go dry as he really took it in.
The set was a simple baby pink bralette, made from some kind of sheer lacy material with a flower motif. The plunging neckline was created to draw attention to the cleavage, and it was adorned with some delicate string of pearl-like decoration to highlight the collarbones. The panties were the same sheer material, clear that they weren’t to hide much. The sides of it were accentuated with cute ruffles that further added a feminine touch. Sanji felt lightheaded. 
Finally, it was a beautiful pastel garter belt that sat in the middle, completing the look. It too was made from the same stretchy, sheer lace. It would wrap around the waist, strategic cutouts to accentuate the waist, hips, and the bellybutton. The central cutout had a simple chain of pearls to add interest and movement. Four satin-looking ribbons led from bottom front and back, with clips attached to hold up stockings.
Oh, maybe his shirt stays were kinda…
Nonetheless, it was breathtaking. Sanji had clearly marvelled at it for too long, as Bea chuckled, causing him to flush red. The old woman, lingerie in hand, led him to a mirror. 
“I’m…I can’t.”
Bea just chuckled, holding the hanger up against him. “Look in the mirror boy, I’ve been making lingerie for fifty years. This suits you.”
Sanji obeyed her, staring at himself in the mirror. What he saw took his breath away. He looked a mess, face red and hair messy. He had to hand it to the old woman, the colour was flattering against him. Even the cut looked good. Sanji shifted from foot to foot, anxiety creeping in. He wasn’t really sure how he felt about looking so…so feminine. 
Sanji was a man. It wouldn’t be right for him to wear something so delicate and gorgeous. Right? Of course women’s clothing was beautiful, the fabrics they used, the stylish designs he’d seen the girls on the ship sport. Men’s clothing just, well it was meant to be masculine and boring. Right? He couldn’t let himself give in to that want to feel pretty, that would be wrong.
Right?
Bea, clearly noticing his inner struggle, scoffed.
“Sonny.”
“Sanji.” “Right. Sonny, I’ve been doing this for a long time.” “You, uh, you already said that.”
“I know that!” Bea snapped, swatting at him. Sanji’s gaze drifted back to the pink lace. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. When I started, well, I made boring beige bras and the same lacy black underwear again, and again, and again. I got bored. I got creative! And when I got creative, I became determined to make people feel pretty. People, Sonny, not women.”
Sanji went rigid, his throat was so dry. Was he that obvious? All he could make out was a simple, “Oh?”
Bea grinned. “Everyone deserves the right to feel pretty.” Sanji opened his mouth to speak but the old woman just held up a wrinkled hand. “Nope. Don’t care if you’re a ‘man’. Everyone. Sonny, one day you’ll realise that being a ‘man’ is more than just grunting like an ape, or never showing any vulnerability, or even having a penis. Man is a state of mind, and Sonny, the sooner you feel comfortable in who you are, the more beautiful life is going to be for you.”
Sanji felt breathless. “Really?”
“Really.” Bea nodded, a fondness in her eyes. “Come, we’ll get you a choker to go with it, I have just the one.”
Sanji felt a million miles away as Bea led him to the shop counter. She handled a delicate pink satin choker with care, presenting it to him. It was a giant bow, a simple snap holding it in place around the neck. Simple, but delicate. If Sanji was honest with himself, he liked it.
“Like a million berry! Your precious one will love you in it!” Bea smiled fondly at him. “So, Sonny, you buying?”
Sanji sucked in a deep breath. When he spoke his voice was foreign to him, a shakiness underlying the wispiness. Sanji felt like he was treading water, unsure and scared of the newness of it all. He could drown at any moment.
“Yeah.”
“Good, good!”
So Sanji paid. Bea took extra care to wrap the lingerie up in a delicate pink tissue paper. His own little present. She then promptly put it in an unmarked bag. She understood, shooting him a wink.
“So, anyone, huh?”
“Oh yes, yes. You see, originally I made them for my girlfriend when I was a much younger lady. She was a farmer’s daughter, wonderful girl, shared many a kiss with her, and then some! Now I make these lovely ones for my current husband. You remind me a lot of him, Sonny. You see he lets me wear this harness thing that I put in his a-”
“Thank you grandma, I’ll be out of here now!”
“Yes, yes. Good luck, Sonny! Stop by with your sweetie and get something nice one day, okay?” Bea waved her goodbyes from the doorway, smiling that same sweet old woman smile. Sanji clutched the bag to his chest tightly. 
Right. Time to put the plan into place.
212 notes · View notes
anonbinaryweirdo · 6 months
Text
i am not okay. I found old screenshots of my babies from like ???? two??? years ago
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
josmora still gives me so much LIFE
#josh n shamora !!!#malewife x girlboss#im gonna hc for a little#josh was a mommas boy snd probably had bad daddy issues‚ which would explain why hes so fragile and sensitive#funfacto; josh died due to drowning‚ so i would like to think that Oliver tries to help him overcome his fear of deep water#it takes a while but he's not that afraid of it anymore !!#notice how shamoras the one carrying the groceries and josh is staring straight into the sun#that should sum up their dynamic perfectly i think#“wife who hates everyone except her husband”#funfacto 2; shamoras cause of death was being pushed off a building (i vividly remember this. im so sure it was this.)#so shes deathly afraid of heights now probably#but will get on an amusement park ride for joshs sake because he needs someones hand to hold#and its either Lucy's or Shamora's#but he also makes sure she's alright the whole ride too !! he doesnt want her to have ant kind of panic attack#so he ensures that shes okay the whole ride#josh is a cinnamon roll with a mixture of “could kill you / is just a cinnamon roll”#shamora looks like she could kill you and WOULD kill you#the black hair streaks are because all dead ocs have them !! i think it was an earlier hc that they couldnt dye over it.#this is because alexandra dyed her hair blue‚ but the streak wouldnt dye(?)#holy shit im rambling im so sorryKSJKSDJ#oc talk !#ALSO SUNSHINE X SUNSHINE PROTECTOR HOW COULD I FORGET#AND ITS ALSO FUCKING MOON X MOON PROTECTOR IDK THE PROPER NAME
8 notes · View notes
whimsicmimic · 2 months
Text
once again thinking about my post-trimax legato somehow miraculously survives despite everything au and vashgato agenda aka The Worlds Most Miserable Roadtrip
#one of these days ill get back to it#its the fucking. anger and hatred and loathing from legato @ vash#because legato and vashs entire dynamic is fucking#legato has lain down on the tracks. and he doesnt want to be saved. he needs vash to be the train that runs him over.#and then he lives. somehow. he missed his chance to die.#he had no reason to live. his one reason to carry on was for a cause he fully intended to die for and then he couldnt even do that#mirrored by vash. who also went into that confrontation with knives fully intending to not make it out#and now the world is saved! knives failed and now hes gone. and thats a whole fucking thing to unpack for everyone#the fucking anger. the grief. the whole fuckin mess of contradictory emotions that happens as a result of abuse from a family member w vash#fucking Everything wrt legato. the devastation of knowing knives is gone + he failed + legato lived + *vash* lived#the slowwwwwww realization over a long long period of time that legato worshipped the ground knives walked on#but knives only ever regarded legato with like. the same way someone might an ant. a bug. maybe a dog.#legato who only ever wanted to be Seen by knives#and knives who never particularly cared for legato beyond his usefulness#legato who begins following vash because its probably what knives would want + there is truly nothing else on this planet for him.#he has no other reason to live#and vash allowing him out of some sense of pity / resignation + being able to see that theres Nothing left for legato#+ probo some sense of obligation too. of heres another person his brother fucked up. which means hes vash’s responsibility to fix#all the while legato resents vash for living when knives isnt here. resents him for failing to kill him.#resents him for being the only other thing that knives actually cared about + who rejected knives when all legato ever wanted#was knives’ attention#and vash who frankly resents legato too. resents the fact that. of all the people who managed to survive. it was legato and not ww#resents all the shit that legato put him through. all the people he killed all the suffering he inflicted#the two of them looking at each other and the fucking. recognition of the self thru the other#and seeing all the shit they hate about themselves in the other#theres also again the shared grief of them both losing someone incredibly important to them both but who was also responsible for some#abuse to Both of them. unpacking it. working through it. moving forward.#learning How to move forward as a Whole when theyre both two deeply traumatized deeply suicidal fucks who no longer have the singular goals#thatve been their sole reason for existing for the past. many. years. and having to find new reasons to keep living#but most of all. i think they should make out sloppy in the desert thank you goodnight
0 notes
crowcryptid · 9 months
Text
sleep deprivation 200 mph gaming had me acting most unwise last night
This was not from last night but it proves that I am not to be trusted. Liar. ⬇️
Tumblr media
Authors note: the tags of this post were written at around 4 AM but in my wisest judgment I did not post but upon review it’s not as bad as I thought. You are once again saved by my inability to put thought into words.
Hey staff new feature idea where you can set a ‘no post’ timezone and anything you do just gets saved to drafts instead
*Staff proceeds to add a $20 set of tumblr exclusive emojis that completely break the tagging system* <- prediction
#The twitch chat in my mind: mods ban that guy now (that guy is me)#Reading my tags. What happened. Was that real. It’s ok I am normal now#fear not I don’t actually have room in my mind for more brainrot rn. this is a temporary illness#I can tell when it’s long term and when it’s not#original 4 am tags begin#But to be fair. What IS his problem? What a little freak. This guy wants to plug a usb in me#He wants to run a minecraft server on me and build a house with only one bed. He’s griefing the villagers so we’re alone in the world#He made an army of clones to crawl over me like ants dragging me back to the nest#Hey guys I think I still might be a little sleep deprived. My bad.#he’s upgrading my batteries??#Sorry. I said I was normal. That wasn’t me. who said that. Hello? I’m scared. Why did I hear minecraft cave sound .mp3 who is doing that#Do worry. I have a game backlog that scares the hoes I’m sure I will find more weirdos in there#Unfortunately for you there’s like.. idk.. 5-10 more fps to get through. This is possibly dangerous. for me.#You see this is why I like to go into games as blind as possible.#It’s like sticking my hand in the dumpster and pulling out a fresh fruit. Peels him and takes a bite. Hrm yes fruit.. I see.#Dumpster wasn’t a good example here cause the game is actually great but you get that I mean#end of 4 am tags#you know I think what’s saving you all here is the way he looks#yes he’s a tin can but not to my standard. why are you so eyes. put those things away. freak#anyway. no context once again if you know you know if you don’t. don’t worry about it#I am at work. dies
1 note · View note
Text
So the tire-eating potholes in my neighborhood finally killed both my rear tires and I had to get that dealt with, but while they were getting replaced, I put the dogs in puppy daycare and upon picking them up early, the attendant literally sprinted to the front desk, grabbed me by the shoulders and breathlessly exclaimed "YOUNEEDTOCOMESEEWHATYOURDOGSAREDOING"
While she escorted me back to the play yards, she explained that every time they have more than three Corgi, they have to put all the Corgs in a separate play yard because they turn into a little gang and bully the Very Large dogs by playing Cow Herding Simulator 5000 with them, and especially if Herschel is there, because corgis are bossy-pants dogs, and Herschel has the bossiest pants of them all and acts as leader.
Despite being a little Don Corgleone to the short bitch mafia, Hershcel is also a Huge Baby and will apparently cry and cry and try to climb the fence and cry and eat people's shoelaces and cry if he is separated from Charlie during playtime, so this means any time that "Corgi Party" is happening, Charlie also has to go to Corgi party, despite being full-height, running cat software and a senior citizen. he copes with being Gulliver amongst the Liliputians by climbing onto the roof of the playskool castle they have for a climbing structure in the yard, kicking the ladder down behind him, and stretching out to nap in the sun while the corgi frolic and gambol around him.
Corgi are dogs that make up and play games with secret rules, like kindergartners. "Everyone bark in sync" is a popular game, as is "follow the leader" and it's companion game "March in a circle around a tall structure like ants caught in a death loop".
So what I was greeted with, when the attendant and I snuck out to the play yard, was the sight of Charlie, sound asleep and flat on his back with his paws crossed over his chest because sighthounds sleep in the stupidest fucking positions, on top of a faux-medieval castle with gargoyles on the corners, surrounded by approximately seven Corgi, all trotting in a circle around him, barking in sync.
"They look like they're preforming some kind of ritual!" giggled the attendant as attempted to get my phone to focus.
"Yeah, they're gonna summon Corgtulhu." I said.
Unfortunately, this made the attendant literally fall on her ass laughing, and distracted Herschel and his compatriots, so they didn't get to complete the summons, and I didn't get the pic.
The attendant kept laughing because apparently she's new to puns, and had mostly gotten it under control by the time we got everyone's leashes on and back out to the front.
The manager was watching the front desk, bemused. Did you get to see them doing the ritual?"
"YEAH!" shrieks the attendant, still excitable with merriment. "THEY'RE- THEY WERE-" The attendant ends up giggling on the floor.
"You okay there Katie?" asked the manager with minimal concern.
"We think they were trying to summon Corgthulhu." I eplain, and Katie screams from the floor. "Wasn't gonna work though, you need a virgin sacrifice and Charlie had an STD when we got him."
It was the manager's turn to shriek. and for Charlie and Herschel to start barking in solidarity.
"That's right Charlie! Your sluttiness saved the world!" I told him, as he jumped up and kicked me in the face.
Anyway, that's why Charlie's nickname at daycare is now "Superman(whore)"
---
If you found this story amusing, please consider donating to my Ko-fi or pre-ordering the Family Lore book on my Patreon so I can buy the good dogs more treats.
30K notes · View notes
deadsetobsessions · 2 months
Text
I just really like the trope of Danny getting summoned, alright?
——
After he shoved Pariah Dark in his coffin shaped locker what what Danny hoped to be for all of eternity, the half unfortunately inherited all of Pariah’s responsibilities.
“What was it again? With great powers comes great responsibilities?” Danny let his head hit the table with an audible thunk. He’s in his “office,” the ghost zone’s approximation of where he might be able to do work seriously. The house- the extension of his haunt- had added the room right next to his bedroom. Danny had to lift all of the paperwork from Pariah’s castle (that’s now also a part of what’s considered Danny’s but he doesn’t think about that) and move it to his main haunt.
He prayed to the universe at large to let him off. Danny hated doing homework- science not withstanding because at least he understood that- let alone an asshole’s centuries worth of work. Danny bemoaned the fact that he was elected the King. He didn’t even defeat Pariah all by himself, so why couldn’t the others do it?!
Like a wave of merciful fate, the beginning tugs of a summoning pulled at his core.
“Thank Ancients!”
Danny scrambled to grab a sticky note, unfortunately glowing green as things tended to in the Ghost Zone, and scribbled down that he’s been summoned and to not look for him until his vacation work was done.
With that note done, Danny decided to bring his A game to the summoning. Allowing his secondary form to wash over him, Danny quickly checked the mirror to make sure he was presentable. A bright glowing ice crown- not the crown of fire, because it was essentially useless without the ring and Danny wasn’t keen on being a king, let alone a near infinitely powerful one- settled across his brow showed his status. A cape, this form’s best feature, made of an expanse of galaxies, nebulae, and frost cling at the end was swept over his shoulders and pinned together with a cloak pin made of clusters of black holes.
A couple of additions to his normal hazmat suit and his trusty thermos at his side, Danny all but dove into the summoning magic with an excited whoop of glee.
As Danny got closer to the magic-made portal, he could hear the whispers of the living presences beyond it.
His summoners! Hopefully it’s not a cult again, even if he thought they were pretty funny trying to summon the king of the dead to kill more people. Not funny “haha,” funny weird.
How should he do this…? Scary? Funny? Oh! Or maybe he should ditch the crown!
Danny grinned, waving his hand to dispel the crown of ice. It was nice, but he was in a dungeon critter mood today.
“Oh, this is going to be gooood.”
Danny cracked his knuckles and put on the most dead-inside-and-outside expression he could manage, modeling it off of the Nasty Burger workers during closing shift. The halfa stepped through the portal.
——
“The ritual is completed! You will all face the might of Pariah Dark, the eternal king of the dead!” The villain of the week cackled as his cult cheered. Wonder Woman, scuffed and injured from the magical bolts these magic users had shot at her earlier, grimaced and raised her sword.
“We will defeat Pariah Dark,” she proclaimed. Her allies rallied at her proclamation and readied themselves for another fight. “This world will not bow to the likes of you!”
“We are all but mere ants before the king of the dead! Pariah Dark will bring forth the reckoning this shitty world deserves!”
“Actually, Pariah Dark’s kind of busy, so you’re gonna have to leave a message.”
Green Arrow’s arrow jerked towards the new voice. Batman paused, hand holding batarangs at the ready. He, out of all of them, knew better than to underestimate a young voice.
A gloved hand shoved through the green portal, using the edges like a door frame to heave itself through. A humanoid shape, with sharp ears all but crawled out of the Lazarus green portal. Batman wondered if this was what Jason saw when he came back to life.
"Lord Pariah Dark is busy?!"
The figure- a boyish not-human- heaved a sigh. "Do you people seriously think that the High King of the Infinite Realms isn't swamped with work?"
"And who are you supposed to be? His secretary?" Hal asked, Ring glowing and at the ready. Wonder Woman tensed and mentally struck Hal away from the list of people to consider for diplomatic missions.
"Me? I'm a glorified paper pusher." The being turned back to the cultists, his cape containing the universe swished behind him. "Did you have a message for Pariah Dark?"
"He was meant to rain down death and destruction!"
"Okay, first of all, I feel like you guys are missing a really important point." The being pointed at the cult leader. “It’s not called the King of the Dead for no reason, you know. Death comes for everyone eventually. Also, I have to do a seriously giant amount of paperwork every time one of you fruitloops gets the bright idea to cause an influx of deaths.”
Danny stomped across the circle, grabbed the collar of the cultist leader’s cloak and yanked him down. He shook him. “Do you people have any idea how annoying it is?! Huh?! Do you know how long the A-354 Form is?! Stop trying to get Pariah to kill people! I’m sick of the paperwork, dammit!”
"How- how did you get out of the circle?!"
The cultists and the heroes squared up, ready to fight the possible common enemy: Danny.
Danny is having the best time of his half life. Screw kingly dignity, Danny’s gotta de-stress somehow! He had a whole bag of complaints!
"You wrote the circle wrong, idiots! Ancients, are you people even literate? What even are those scribbles?" Danny kept shaking the cultist. Wow, what an amazing stress ball!
“Uh- hey, he looks kind of sick…” The Flash said, trying to be a good hero and mediate before escalating. Danny snarled and Flash held up his hands, gulping in fear as Danny’s eyes narrowed at him. “Did I… do something?”
“You,” Danny hissed. “You mother- fruitloop! Stop screwing with the timeline, you giant red-! Do you know how annoying it is to readjust the death count every time one of you little merry red jesters takes a jaunt through time and space?! Do you even know how many complaints I had to field?! Oh, boy you’re all going to regret summoning me today, because I’ve had a long time to think about what I’d do to everyone who made me work overtime!”
Danny bared his teeth, eyes sparkling with mirth as he froze the cultists.
"We're not letting you take over the world," Hawk-Woman said, raising her mace that pulsed with electricity.
Danny snorted to hide his wince. "I'm not interested. Just let me punch him once. Just once." Danny pointed at the Flash.
"Honestly, I can't even blame you," Black Canary muttered, fists raised.
"Wha-! Canary! That's so rude! You traitor!"
"Shouldn't have put skittles in my shoes then. Those hurt, Flash."
"Enough." Everyone shut up at the sound of Batman's command. "What do you mean they wrote the circle wrong."
Danny, who was watching the byplay with interest, shrugged. "They wanted to summon the Ghost King, right? We've had a... change of leaders recently."
"Who is the leader now?"
Danny waggled a finger at Batman. "Nuh-uh. I'm gonna collect my over-time compensation, which is punching the Flash, and then we can negotiate for information."
"Flash."
"I don't want to get punched, Bats!"
"The alternative is that I let the current Ghost King have a go at you."
"Flash."
"Oh my god, just get punched, Barry!" Danny heard Green Lantern Hal Jordan whisper.
"Ugh, fine. No one video this."
Immediately, three phones go up to record the Flash getting decked by a teenage looking ghost. Danny floated closer and wound his fist back, letting loose some of the ghost strength he normally keeps restrained. "This is for my overtime and for Clockwork, you jerk."
The halfa slammed his fist straight into the Flash's face, knocking him clear into the air. Superman catches him but Danny no longer paid attention to the Flash, petty vengeance enacted.
"Honestly, I don't have a problem with you as a person. You're kind of cool. Break the timeline again in the next three months, though, and you're on my shit-list."
"What do you want in exchange for information?"
Danny hummed. "Depending on the level of information, and I reserve the right to not answer any questions. For the name of the current Ghost King..."
He did want that new gaming console. And Jazz could use some help with her rent.
"I want $5,000 and a plate of really good spaghetti."
"I have cash."
Danny nodded at the Dark Knight. "You just carry $5,000 in cash on you? Who does that?"
"I like to be prepared."
"And he's rich," Superman chimed in.
The Flash reappeared with a plate of spaghetti from an Italian place he teleported to. "Here you go. Fresh, and pleasedon'tscrewwithmyafterlife."
Danny shoveled the spaghetti into his mouth, jaw unhinging like a particularly disturbing snake right before he dumped the whole thing- plate and all- down his throat. "Thanks! The food didn't even try to kill me this time! You're good."
"Does your food try to kill you all of the time?!" The Flash- Barry, apparently- asked.
Danny nodded as he took the cash from Batman's gloved hands. "Totally. It sucks."
"Identity." Batman demanded.
"Oh, yeah. The current ghost king is me."
"...What."
"You have been swindled. Bamboozled. Outwitted and outsmarted," Danny snickered, shoving the bundle of cash in his chest. "But seriously, I'm the king. We got rid of Pariah a while ago."
The crown of ice materialized.
"You said you were a glorified paper pusher!" Hawk-Woman chortled.
"I am! I'm pushing so many papers across my desk, it's unending, I swear!"
Batman growled. "You tricked us."
Danny smirked, "You got tricked." Red Robin, in the corner, snorted quietly. "Anyways, if you've got more interesting things around here, I'll considering busying myself with that instead of sentencing you to an afterlife of paperwork."
The adults straightened, grimacing. "Beast Boy is green," Hal offered up.
"Hey!" Beast Boy shouted, offended at the easy way Hal offered him up. He turned to Danny. "But have you ever seen a green chinchilla? Super cute. Watch!"
"Woah!" Danny clapped. Yes, he'll hang out with them before dragging himself back.
2K notes · View notes
satoruhour · 8 months
Text
LAUNDRY DAY
a/n: I AM ALLIVEEEEEEE 🔥🔥🔥🔥 sorry i had a crazy week! can be read as a standalone piece but based off gojo’s roommate au of here and here / tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @utahimeow @lov3rbody ☆
wc: 4k
warnings: sub!gojo that turns into dom!gojo, fem!reader, fantasising? gojo is a pervert too, mentions of semi-public sex, implied somnophilia, panty sniffing, pillow / dry humping, m! masturbation, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, praise, pet names, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
Tumblr media Tumblr media
living with you was hard. brushing his teeth with you was hard. being around you — hard. both figuratively and—
there’s a loud sigh from you.
clearly tired from the day’s activities of ushering in freshman after freshman, you lugged your body into the bathroom. the same rehearsed words have been leaving your mouth as your cheeks hurt more and more by the hour, only to repeat it all over again the next day.
“you look like shit,” it’s muffled by the way the toothbrush is stuffed into his mouth, foam peeking out from the corners of his mouth and you’re trying not to tell your roommate (and boyfriend) to shut up — you didn’t have the energy to do, much less say anything and you certainly didn’t have time for your lover’s clever quips so late in the night.
it didn’t help that you recently had an argument too; well, trivial to him but much more major to you. it was a matter of getting gojo to keep his laundry properly and to clean up after himself once he’s gotten himself comfortable in the relationship. it’s not like he doesn’t want to — he was cleaning up in the first place to impress you — but now since he’s got you, it’s like he simply expects you to act as his little wife when it was a shared space. the exact argument you used against him.
“satoru— this is a shared apartment! you can’t just leave tteokbokki cups lying around with the gochujang sauce still inside! it’s going to attract cockroaches and ants!” you gesture wildly, the sheer amount of trash lying around making you even sicker than you thought possible. getting paid to usher in freshmen and then coming home to this? it felt like every cent of your hard work had gone to waste.
there’s only a grin on his face, “you’re so attractive when you’re mad, baby.”
that was another thing: the lack of seriousness that gojo possessed at times, simply talking to piss you off, simply living to be the bane of your existence. “and you’re fucking unbelievable, gojo satoru. clean up— or don’t,” you made sure to lace that last word with venom, “i don’t care.”
that seemed enough for gojo to snap out of his stupor, “no, no— princess, fuck, i’m s—” his brows furrow when he briefly spots the thickening glaze of your eyes, possibly filling with tears before you’re marching into your room to slam the door and he swears to himself. satoru had never felt embarrassment and shame and sadness like that day; having just taken a shower but his skin was sweaty and uncomfortable and his heart sat right at his feet.
gojo swears he never wants to hear you say his full name ever again.
since then, it’s been a little tense between the two of you. geto had noticed it on movie night, shoko realised you haven’t been looking at your phone as often. hell, even prof. yaga had to tell you that you were distracted way too much lately, and it’s only been two days.
satoru tried to possibly take back what he said with whatever powers he didn’t possess, but he only gets another sigh from you as you squeeze the toothpaste out and start brushing your teeth, not even sparing him one glance in the mirror.
and yet while he was the first one to start his nightly routine, he’s left to be the last again from the way he’s unable to stop staring at you, a recurring trait of his whenever you were in the same room with him. it’s a testament of how attracted he was to you — at how his shirt slips off your shoulder from how big it was because even when you were mad at him, you forgot about that little detail. gojo’s eyes trail from your exposed shoulder to your legs and back up again to your fatigued face. he skims over the shape of your eyes and down to your nose and he thinks he’s the luckiest man to be brushing his teeth beside you now, blessed with seeing such an intimate side of you even if it’s as simple as this.
until gojo’s eyes fall upon your mouth as your toothbrush is doing its job of perfect innocence, cleaning some teeth, scraping off the bacteria on your tongue, except when you’re switching it from side to side all your roommate can think about if it was his dick instead. and the thought leaves him as fast it comes.
all you do is shoot him a weird look through the mirror when gojo exclaims like he was a vampire whose skin burned under the bathroom lighting, and he regains composure with ease.
“i’m fine! fine. doing a-okay.” satoru speaks through the foam and it’s spraying everywhere and you’re too tired to care before you hear another gulp when you move your toothbrush again, “sorry! sorry— continue please.”
gojo is starstruck for an entirely different reason, now, watching the toothbrush making bulges at the side of your mouth as it moves in and out and he’s left to fantasise about the many, many times you’ve gotten him in you and the warmth of everything. he can feel himself get hard under his sweatpants when you start brushing your tongue and you gag and he wants to die standing in this 30 square foot bathroom because the last thing he wants to do is sexualise something perfectly mundane.
gojo isn’t like that (well, most of the time. can’t blame him for finding you smokin’ hot).
“what the fuck is your problem?” you’re speaking through your foamy mouth now, spitting it out and proceeding to clean up with no clue of what you do to him. satoru on the other hand — terribly excited that you’d even open your mouth to talk to him after two days of endless silent treatment. 
“nothing, baby. it’s nothing, i promise.” you can’t lie at the way your heart jumps at the familiarity of it all, of being in such proximity to your lover, doing domestic things like these and the ‘baby’ and yet your pride is holding you back on everything.
you go straight to sleep, too, not wanting to entertain anything related to gojo satoru and you feel just a little bad when he looks at you with those baby blues and a sweet pout on his face. he looked especially pathetic in the bathroom, like a deer caught in headlights at just the presence of you and you want nothing more to apologise. it’s never that easy, though; you needed a promise, you needed the reassurance that he wouldn’t be leaving you to clean up after him again.
all these worries are willed away when you finally fall into slumber in your own room, body craving the warmth of satoru unknowingly. you had stolen a pillow the day before and it’s been the sole source of his scent, the only thing to keep your mind sane.
gojo’s heart drops again upon seeing you already deep in sleep, thinking he had a chance to catch you before you did, but the needines for you never goes down even now. he cannot take his mind off the way you’d run your hands through his hair or tangle your legs with his, satoru’s limbs recall the memory of you playing with his fingers and how you like to curl your arms around his neck. 48 hours is enough for him to go insane, and also maybe at how your leg was propped up on his missing pillow, hugging it so tight to your chest. you hadn’t bothered to wear pants either, so all he can see is the shape of your cunt under.
he stalks into the room and kneels in front of you, finger so tempted to run along your folds and make you wet, staring a whole minute and weighing his options until decides he doesn’t deserve it, turning away and closing your door softly.
“going now, satoru.” it’s soft when you mumble it, not even wanting him to hear before you’re stopped. you’re donning the uni orientation shirt and eyebags, a soggy sandwich from yesterday staining your bag with its smell. “what?”
“made you somethin’,” gojo’s cute like this with a frilly apron and hair band, still managing to tower over you despite the adorable get-up he’s got on, “it’s a bento.”
and you wish you could just melt the pride that runs through your bones and kiss him all over, and you break just a little. a small smile and you walk up to him, grabbing the lunchbox and pecking him softly on the cheek, turning away fast enough to not catch his fangirl moment — because you knew you wouldn’t be able to make it on time if you did.
“we still have to talk later when i come back, okay?” you call out as you put on your shoes and you steal one last glance at him, “and today’s laundry day. you know what t—”
“yes ma’am!” gojo salutes and you roll your eyes with a small smile, locking the door behind you with heat on your cheeks and the pounding of your heart. it was difficult not to break when it came to satoru, when he’s trying so hard to win back your words and love, and so tonight you’ve decided after the tiring week is when you’d finally stop running away over such a small matter.
although, gojo got caught up in something way beyond your expectations even if he had his initial intentions (which involved ordering your favourite takeout and kneeling at the front door in apology). 
your roommate lays around for a bit before grabbing some lunch and heading to the back room, a little extension attached to the kitchen with a tune on his lips. it’s clear he’s a little driven by your little innocent peck, a sign that maybe you weren’t so mad any more. for the next hour, satoru is contently doing the laundry with a smile, until—
the panties you threw in before showering must have fallen to the bottom of the pile, the same one he saw you wear last night and he thinks maybe the low humming buzz he heard last night wasn’t his imagination because when he picks it up he can smell your arousal. there’s a stain from the previous night and another pool of juices from this morning and he now knows that it wasn’t the kettle.
“dirty girl,” he grins, “both yesterday and this morning?” he’s thought about this for the longest time, always holding himself back because you found him weird enough even before you were dating, always letting you do your own separate load for your undergarments. but since you’ve gotten together, you were more comfortable, throwing it into the same laundry basket — the compulsion has never been this strong before.
gojo puts it up to his nose and smells like the pervert he is, among other times: teasing you with a hand down your pants when the two were over at your dorm, fucking you in the kitchen as they focused on the movie, pounding into you with the windows open, and he almost ascends at the scent of your pussy juices. there’s a spark that goes down right to his core and he palms his bulge unconsciously, coming to his senses when the washing machine beeps.
he impatiently puts in the settings and leaves, heading straight for your room and is hit with all reminders of you. the perfume you used this morning and the body wash you share with him, walking almost under a trance to your bed where he moans at the softness of the sheets as he falls face first. it doesn’t take him much to scoot to your pillows, but the need for you is just too much.
gojo grinds his cock into the bed, whining softly as he whiffs up your natural body smell, hips moving on their own accord as he manoeuvres a pillow between his legs. he humps it like a dog, groaning and moaning and the strain on his dick is just too much, balling up the undies in his hand and his body tenses at the friction. 
“baby . . f-fuck—” satoru’s voice is high-pitched and choked, all the thoughts of you culminating into one big ball of desperation for you and he cums in his pants, tainting the fabric a darker colour than before. but he’s not done — his hips still move against the pillow, thrusting into the fluff as he rides out his orgasm, moans muffled by the pillow. “miss you . .”
gojo misses you more than anything, feeling so much distance even within the house that he flips over — by now the sun shines its golden rays a little less. the afternoon is winding down into a cool evening — and pulls at the waistband of his pants. he’s still sensitive, wrapping a hand around his hard cock and pumping and the sound that leaves his mouth is borderline slutty. with another smell of your cunt, he strokes his dick, using his cum as lube.
“oh . . r-right there— mhnng . .” satoru’s hips buck into his hand, squeezing and thumbing at his cock before unbundling your panties and wrapping them around his shaft. the sight drives him insane. sure, it’s one of your more everyday underwear, neutral in both design and colour but he can feel the fabric get wetter and wetter from how much cum he’s pushed out earlier and that’s enough to keep his hand pumping. “s-sweetness, cummin—”
gojo’s head makes a dent in your other pillow from how hard he was pushing it, back arching at how the warmth in his hand will never compare to your mouth or pussy. he can already feel his second orgasm approaching, your room filled with the squelch of his cock and his sounds and he shoots his load with a drawn out moan all over your panties and his stomach. his cum is always so much, dripping down his pelvis and onto his hand and also . . yours?
your boyfriend lets out the girliest scream you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing, scrambling up to the headboard when he sees you hovering over his body. he accidentally kicks your chest in the process and you have to clutch it with a small “ow”, although a small smile is still present on your face.
“having fun?”
“dude, what the fuck?” 
your smile drops, “dude?”
gojo suddenly has his hands moving frantically, “nonono— no, sorry, i meant baby!”
you sigh, sitting back down on your heels as you take in the sight: his still hard cock and the sweat lining his body. his bangs are wet and your eyes flit down to your soiled underwear.
“uh . . i was just borrowing it,” gojo nervously chuckles, handing the cum-filled panty to you and your brows furrow.
“darling, you can’t just give someone back their clothes with your come on it.”
and your boyfriend pouts again, “i really am sorry. and for everything else, too. for not cleaning up and for being a general bum,” this is why you also (sometimes) favoured his unseriousness when you were talking about difficult things. the amount of times you had succumbed to his touches and kisses when you were mad at him was much better than your pride. gojo brings you onto his lap like his dick wasn’t just out, and you relish in the closeness you’ve missed.
“i need you to show me you mean it, ’toru,” he lights up at the nickname he loves just as you point a finger in his face, “aht! calm down. don’t think we’re all buddy-buddy again.”
“i will try,” gojo is smooth, taking your hand into his while the other brushes the hair away from your eyes. you lean into the touch, “and i will try until you see my efforts.”
you smile at his honesty, “and i’m sorry for ignoring you as well. it was childish of me.”
gojo hums, bringing your face in to plant a kiss to your lips, “i missed you like crazy, princess.”
you laugh, “yeah i can tell, i miss you too.” you gesture to all of him and he whines softly at the joke, squeezing your waist.
“you’re not weirded out?”
his breath hitches when you move down his body and situate yourself between them, finger tracing his tip and teasing him, “why would i be? i’ve literally fucked myself wearing your shirt.”
gojo gulps loudly, “you did w-what?”
“i’m just better at not getting caught.” all words are taken from his lips then, when your mouth engulfs him and the feeling of it is just pure insanity. gojo pants and his thighs tense, a hand gathering your hair into a ponytail to keep it from interfering. his eyes fixate on the way your suck him off, recalling the last time he’s watched you do that was in a damn bathroom. 
“y-your mouth—” satoru swears under his breath when you swirl your tongue around his shaft, the tip of his cock making bulges on the side of your mouth and it only leaves him calling out your name time after time.
“y’know,” you gargle on him, slurping up his cum, “i know what you were thinking starin’ at me last night.”
gojo snaps his fingers and mumbles out a shaky damn, because he can always be read like an open book. he just didn’t know he was that obvious.
“looked cute staring,” you mutter around him, “like a little puppy.”
you slap his thick length on your tongue, moaning when you feel just how heavy it is, “you just wanted this so bad, didn’t you?”
gojo whines at your words, nodding, and you go back to the abuse on his dick, bobbing your head up and down as your hand plays with his balls. the other moves over his torso, at the porcelain skin there and you can feel his stomach heaving at your ministrations.
“are you close, baby?” you ask mindlessly, the lewd sounds of his fat cock in your mouth sending sensations right down to your sex as well. you never really listen to his answer, taking a deep breath and sucking in your cheeks and soon you’re deep throating your lover.
“mh— mmf . .” sounds deep from your throat as your nose buries itself in his pubes, and satoru struggles to hold your tantalising stare. he can feel his tip hit the back of your throat and his moans are quick and high-pitched.
“cumming— ’m cumming,” before you come off and you go back to your pace and gojo’s small moans descend into longer ones at the feeling. his eyes roll back right into his skull as he twitches in your mouth and soon he’s spilling right into your throat and tongue.
“baby—” satoru’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut, “s-shit . .” and the sheer amount of cum always takes you off guard, sputtering over it when you drag your lips off of him. your boyfriend’s eyes are hooded and darkened, looking at how the strings of his semen droop from your mouth and connect right to his weeping tip.
“eugh, eat more veggies, ’toru. you’re bitter as fuck.” you say with a giggle, swallowing nonetheless as you wipe a hand across your mouth, “thanks for the meal.”
his spirit has certainly ascended, chest heaving and legs jelly from that mind-blowing orgasm. even he takes solace on the headboard, looking down at you with tired eyes.
“but i’m not done,” you truly weren’t, driving satoru to the brink after you’ve milked him to his limit, and yet he wouldn’t have it any other way as he thrusts into you, having had a new burst of energy after seeing your confidence wane once you’ve gotten his dick in you.
it was cute — your words breaking up and staggering as you sink down for the first time after two days, reduced merely to whines as you ride him. gojo lets you have your fun for a bit before he properly flips you over, pressing down on your lower back.
“fuck yourself onto me, baby,” he can tell you’ve missed him too by how you squeeze around him, a sly grin on his face when your hips push back onto him. he sees the tight hold you have on the silk sheets and the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. “good girl . . juuust like that.”
you’re jerking forward when he slaps your ass, letting it ripple from the force of both of his hand and your hips. but he takes over soon enough, grabbing both your arms and pulling you gently off that you’re hanging limply. and even while he does that, he’s still focused on the way your lips spread to accommodate him together with a ring of white at the base of his cock.
“that feel good? huh?” gojo mumbles, loving the way you arch your back and your head lols forward, just letting him do whatever he wants to you. you’re too far gone to even quell the ache in your thighs, too distracted by the wetness of your pussy.
“feel s— s’good, satoru—!” you moan out and like always satoru is indecisive in everything, now tugging you up to rest chest to back. “g’na cum!”
your legs spread more and more as your lover keeps you tightly pressed against him, an arm around your neck and the other, waist. wordlessly, he guides your face to the side, meeting your mouth in a sloppy, drooling kiss and his hips stutter at the way you mewl into his mouth.
“that right, princess?” he asks into your lips, relishing in your face contorting in pleasure. eyes reaching heaven and your mouth parted cutely even more when he props a leg up and his cockhead presses against your cervix ever so lightly.
“y—yeah . .” it’s a mix between a whine and a moan before the only rub of your clit from satoru’s hand sends you reeling and you’re trembling in his hold. you can feel your juices coat his length just as he cums as well, too obsessed with the way your cunt feels aeons better than his pathetic hand. he litters your skin with groans of his own, continue to fuck his cum back into you as you milk him dry with ropes and ropes of semen painting your womb white.
“good little girl,” he hums, and you sigh at the feeling of him cumming again, sensing him removing himself with you with an obscene pop! and you want to continue. you’re already moving your hips yet again, begging with small please’s but the happy-go-lucky song of the dryer interrupts the both of you. you scowl.
gojo laughs into your neck, and you’re left grumbling as he sets you down gently, letting you catch your breath before he presses a kiss to your sweaty cheek.
“i’ll handle it, baby,” satoru made a promise to you and he’ll keep it. he hurriedly pulls his sweatpants over his bottom half, “you just rest up.”
it’s not even two minutes later that you already miss him, trotting over to the laundry room in nothing but his shirt and you just watch as he removes the clothes with a certain tranquillity and delicateness that you’d like to see this sight more often and all you can muster in the moment is your arms around his middle.
and the sweetness of the moment is immediately ruined by gojo, “let’s fuck here. whaddya say?” 
your roommate and lover can only grin when you turn him around to smack him (“it’s!” slap “not!” slap “sanitary!” slap “here!” slap), finally happy everything’s back to normal. satoru simply presses a kiss to your temple.
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
emmyrosee · 28 days
Note
Kenma loves you. He'd do everything for you.
But right now, five minutes away from marrying you, he's having one of the worst panic attacks in his life. Who thought inviting this many people to a wedding was a good idea? Who thought his social anxiety could manage that?
And when he manages to work himself into an absolute mess, clutching his chest as he grunts and pants into the air, he thinks this is it. This is when it crumbles, he’s going to pass out, and when he wakes up, you’re going to have left him for someone better, someone who can offer you the life you deserve.
Even with Kuroo cupping his cheeks in his hands, begging him to breathe and ground himself, asking him to look for colors and do basic math, it’s not enough. Now, there’s too many eyes on him, too many voices in his head, too much judgement. His world is spinning faster.
Until you come in.
You, pushing Kuroo out of the way, resting your forehead against Kenma’s as your thumbs roll over his hot cheeks, come in to save him, like a knight in shining armor. He grabs at you, letting the textures guide him back to some form of grounded, enough where the ringing in his ears stops and he can finally, finally, get a breath in.
“Hey,” you whisper.
“Hey,” he managed, but its tight and choked and filled with snot.
You don’t care. You move a hand to gently pet his hair, smoothing the messy locks from his face and hooking them behind his ear.
“Whats got you so spooked? Huh?”
“C-ant. Tell you.”
“Shhh, okay. That’s okay. Thank you for letting me know.”
Because kenma can’t tell you he can’t go out there and marry you in front of all those people. You’ll be heartbroken. But for now, all he can do is indulge in your touch and whimper out a few more sobs, hoping the feeling of suffocation will let off of his chest within a few more moments.
1K notes · View notes
voguesriot · 3 months
Text
SUNBURN ✹ luke castellan
( summary ) a social media au about chb’s fav couple (& their fav shitstirrer, aka percy jackson)
( pairing ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite cabin-coded!reader & small bits of baby percabeth
( notes ) first post ahhh!!! this was so fun to make
Tumblr media
♫ Ant Pile by Dominic Fike
Tumblr media Tumblr media
♡ liked by wisegirll , silenabeauregard , and others
yourusername my bf is hot but dominic fike if u wanna hmu i can ditch him it’s no biggie 😁🫶
lukecastellan EXCUSE ME
lukecastellan you already completed your rite of passage why do you need to break my heart 😔💔
yourusername want me to kiss that bruised ego better?
lukecastellan sigh… i guess…
seaweedbrain BOOO TOMATO TOMATO BOOOOO
seaweedbrain get his ass off my screen 🤣🤣
lukecastellan sparring arena. you and me. now.
groverunderwood bros rlly beefing with a 13 yr old
seaweedbrain the typa guy to tell me to kms bcs i voted him out in roblox total drama island
clarisselarue this would’ve been so much better without the second slide
yourusername no more like content from here on out 🙅‍♀️
lukecastellan wtf???
yourusername sorry babe i don’t argue with girls who have big brown eyes, whatever she wants she’s gonna get
silenabeauregard YOU LOOK SO CUTESY
yourusername I LOVE U 🥹❤️‍🩹
chrisrodriguez lukecastellan bro ik nobody else here fw you, but i’ll always fw you 💗
lukecastellan you’re a real one bro 👊
aphroditecamper1 u guys are so cute ☹️
♫ Babydoll by Dominic Fike
Tumblr media Tumblr media
♡ liked by cbeckendorf , connorstroll , and others
lukecastellan yeah your girl might have a general grasp on battle strategies or whatever but can she bring an oddly unsettling vibe and a cute smile to the function? DIDNT THINK SO ‼️‼️‼️
seaweedbrain put a shirt on man nobody wants to be seeing all that trust 🙏
lukecastellan i wonder if your dad would’ve stayed if you weren’t such a hater
seaweedbrain i wonder if your dad wouldn’t have become the ten dollar founding father if you mom swallowed
yourusername woah…
seaweedbrain when he goes low i go LOWER
wisegirll too far percy
seaweedbrain sorry ma’am
clarisselarue this would’ve been so much better without the second slide
lukecastellan it’s my account???
clarisselarue i stand by what i said.
chrisrodriguez yk i can bring an oddly unsettling vibe too and my ma said my smiles pretty cute so…
yourusername yeah you bring such a crazy vibe!!
chrisrodriguez now that’s just rude
yourusername tried to be a homewrecker but you got wrecked instead 🤷‍♀️
wisegirll yourusername your lashes look so good!!!!
yourusername MY BABY THANK U I LOVE U UR MY FAV PERSON EVER
clarisselarue WTF???
silenabeauregard WTF?????
seaweedbrain WTF????
lukecastellan i’m used to this by now 😔💔🥀
♫ Woman Screaming #2 by Anton Hughes
Tumblr media Tumblr media
♡ liked by wisegirll , racheledare , and others
seaweedbrain does he just not own a shirt… COVER YOUR BOOBS SIR PLEASE THERE ARE CHILDREN
lukecastellan why are you taking pics of us having a nap… fan behaviour icl
seaweedbrain i needed proof to file a police report against you for theft
lukecastellan how did you know??
seaweedbrain i was talking ab stealing my innocence but what were you thinking…
yourusername wait perce can you send me the second pic it’s so cute
yourusername send the first one too actually please
seaweedbrain pick yourself up you’re stronger than this what happened to women who stand on business 😔
yourusername i was standing!!! but then my feet hurt and he picked me up :)
seaweedbrain sigh
chrisrodriguez bros looking fine oh my gods
lukecastellan don’t matter if i’ve got a world of haters, i got you by my side
yourusername i’m just gonna leave…
clarisselarue yourusername just saying i’d never pull that shit
lukecastellan ok joke over ha ha funny
wisegirll percy this is a bit stalkerish 😭
seaweedbrain i’m sorry you’re right
this post has been deleted.
2K notes · View notes
hwallazia · 13 days
Text
ANT!FRAGILE – 최산
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis . in which you pamper your successful boyfriend after his dream night at coachella.
pairing . choi san & fem!reader
genre . smut (mdni!) fluff at the end, comfort, established relationship, idol!au, and a poor attempt of comedy.
taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle | comment your username if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! ♡
word count . 3,1k
DISCLAIMER! unprotected sex (wrap before tap!), bath sex, slight degradation? (reader’s referred as “dumb girl” once), dirty talk, softdom!san, sub!reader, dacryphilia?, slight overstimulation, hickeys, size difference, bulge kink, cow girl position, petnames (princess, love, darling & more), teasing, squirt, suggestive language (yn tells wooyoung to kill himself, jokingly! they’re two very friendly friends ;)), coachella san (as a warning itself, yes).
NIC’S NOTES this took way too long for no reason at all (⁠ ̄⁠ヘ⁠ ̄⁠;⁠) but here it is! my brain rot of coachella san (ofc with teeth rotting fluff at the end bc i’m the one writing it) also, lowercase is intentional! (again, to lazy to write it properly;;)
Tumblr media
you should’ve seen it coming after you found out that your boyfriend, san, would be performing at an event as important as coachella. not that you were complaining though.
you knew how much your boyfriend loves attention, how much it turned him on to hear the fans scream for him, and how the cameras adjust their lens to zoom in on his face or his toned muscles from dancing and moving from side to side. there were constant conversations in which san would ask you “should i wear this?”, “if i unbutton a couple of buttons will i get a reaction from atiny?” of course, you’d tell him dismissively that no matter what he does, he’d always get a reaction from everyone, from you especially.
but taking off his shirt in the middle of a concert? really?
you had already seen him without clothes on the upper part of his body, of course, —and also without clothes down there, but let’s omit details—. the thing here’s that you knew how cautious he was with his clothing, always trying to cover what was most important. but this surprised you, and immensely.
it is, in fact, a sight for sore eyes. but a certain level of jealousy invaded your body; you liked to think that you were the only one with the privilege of seeing his well-worked body. but now millions of people and locals would have photos and videos of your shirtless boyfriend on stage. you definitely couldn’t accept it, even though the entire internet already knows exactly what ateez’s choi san looks like underneath the expensive fabric that covers him at concerts.
you were fully aware that this was his job, and that he was paid for it, but did it really have to be him? why not any other member? maybe seonghwa? or mingi! what about him? he also has a pretty active and... desperate fanbase. it was obvious that more than one fan would pay to get, at least, a glimpse of his abs. so, with so many options, why was your boyfriend the exposed person?
but of course you couldn’t show up in his dressing room with a jealous expression clearly decorating your face, you had to act like the sweet and tender girlfriend you were and put jealousy aside for a moment. your boyfriend had just finished performing on a dream stage for any artist, you couldn’t ruin his night because of a little scene.
you weren’t a jealous or toxic lover; you were a conservative one. you liked knowing that you were special to san and you expected exclusivity from him; consequently, he would receive the same treatment. but you should’ve expected it when you started dating choi san. he’s an idol and that's his job: to cause, in any way, the attention of the fans which, consequently, would keep them afloat or flying through the charts.
but, that was an indelible feature of yours. therefore, in some way, you would make it noticeable.
you hit your knuckles a few times, with moderate intensity, against the modern metallic door decorated by a gold star that highlighted your boyfriend’s band name. you watched as the handle turned slightly and opened the door wide, managing to discover wooyoung with a foaming glass of champagne that found its rest in the palm of her hand. behind his figure, you could see mingi sitting on a noticeably comfortable leather couch next to yunho, both of them clinking their glasses together with a clink; yeosang and seonghwa taking a selfie in the mirror and jongho and hongjoong talking animatedly, perhaps about the upcoming scenarios you thought.
“what the hell are you doing here?” wooyoung said, looking at you confusingly. you narrowed your eyes slightly at his quick lack of courtesy.
“good night to you too, wooyoung. you were incredible out there.” you replied sarcastically, hoping he would finally greet you properly.
“oh thank you so much. but seriously, what are you doing here?” he asked once again.
“what do you mean what am i doing here? i came to congratulate y’all for the show because you totally killed it. all the atiny around me went absolutely feral because of you guys.” you praised, and wooyoung grinned nicely. jongho and hongjoong came up behind him, intrusively joining the conversation.
“well thank you very much, yn.” jongho responded and you gave him your purest smile, truly meaning your words.
“but i also came here to congratulate my boyfriend personally?” you interrogated since his figure wasn’t appearing in your visual field.
“that’s why i was asking! damn, you really don’t listen." wooyoung sentenced, his gaze being comparable to that of a mother scolding her daughter. “as soon as the concert was over, he changed and went to the hotel to see you. he thought you’d be there.”
“but i don’t have a ride home, and my phone died” you explained, doe-eyed as you waited for wooyoung, or any of the boys, to take the hint and quickly take you to the hotel to your boyfriend.
“you could just ask for it, you know?” wooyoung tsked, but finally surrendered to your big, brown eyes with a sigh. “give me two seconds to look for the car keys. i’ll take you there.”
and that’s what he did as fast as lighting since he knew they’d only have that night all for themselves before flying back out to korea. the next day would be full of promotion of their songs to the locals and their stage in coachella, so san wouldn’t be able to even spend a bit of his day with you. 
during the ride to the hotel, wooyoung spoke, “hey just don’t tire him out since we have quite the amount of work to do tomorrow.”
“you know, you could say something like ‘have a nice time together’, ‘take care of him’, ‘call me if you need anything-” before you could continue, he interrupted you briskly. 
“oh hell no. the both of you are responsible adults who know how to take care of themselves without someone else’s help so don’t even try to bother me tonight because i’m exhausted as shit.” he confessed, hands adjusting their position on the steering wheel when cornering.
“oh so now you’re saying i’m a burden?” you asked ironically, knowing wooyoung would catch it was only a joke.
“oh you do know how to think!” he smiled looking away from the road for a bit to lock gazes with you. wrinkles decorated the corner of your eyes as you closed them a little.
“go kill yourself.” you huffed.
“shut up, you love me,” his puckering lips sent a flying kiss to you. he stopped his words briefly, “actually you kind of have to, since i’m taking you with your beloved boyfriend.”
“touché” you agreed. 
the ride to the hotel was quick and calm since you were talking and joking animatedly with wooyoung. and when you least expected it, the car stopped moving. consequently, you turned to look out through your window, yellow lights, and gold decorations hurting your eyes with how beaming they looked, even when it was one in the morning.
“here we are.” wooyoung turned to look at you, his sincere eyes transmitting warmth, “remember what i told you-”
“yeah, i got it mom,” you answered, rolling your eyes vexingly. the man gave you an annoying gaze, so you replied, “what? you’re acting as if you were my mother! chill out, for fuck’s sake. as you said, both of us are responsible adults who know how to take care of ourselves.” you used his own words as a weapon to defend yourself against his exaggerated concern.
“whatever. just go,” he unlocked the car’s door so you could get out of the car once you finished your little conversation. “he’s been a pain in the ass lately because he hasn’t had time to see you.”
“imma get going then,” your hand approached the car door handle and finally opened it and got out of the vehicle. “thank you, woo. i owe you one.”
“you owe me way too many to count ’em” wooyoung wheezed. “but yeah, we’ll add it to the list.” he gave you one final smile, which you reciprocated sweetly.
you finally closed the door and watched wooyoung make his way back to where coachella was taking place, he’d probably go to enjoy the rest of the night’s stages with his members. you genuinely wished for him to do well and arrive with the boys safely, but now you had something more important to do: pamper your successful boyfriend after his dream night at coachella.
after you saw wooyoung getting lost on the dark LA highway, you turned around and ran towards the hotel to get into the elevator and quickly dial the floor of your boyfriend’s room.
once there, before your brain could think about it, your legs moved on their own and guided you recklessly toward the door. you hit your knuckles against it a few times, but there was no response.
“sannie? it’s yn. are you there?” you mutter softly against the door frame. another moment of silence came in response.
remembering your boyfriend had given you the key card, you pulled it out of your coat and faced it against the handle. after a soft peep sounded, you opened the door. just to be greeted with a dim-lighted room.
you wandered around the room, looking carefully at the floor so as not to bump your feet against any furniture or step on any item of clothing that, perhaps in a hurry, had been forgotten on the carpeted floor. you kept repeating your boyfriend’s name until the silence stunned you. the dazzling city lights illuminating what the poor little lamp that rested on the nightstand could not illuminate.
suddenly everything went silent. until you heard, in the back of your head, a faded tune. you quickly recognized the melody and started humming the song, the lyrics of the weeknd’s starboy being the only thing you could think about.
once again, you knocked a few times on the door, this time receiving a response from the other side. a dull “who is it?” was heard. “it’s me, love. yn.” you replied.
“oh, babe! come in!” he said happily, you could imagine the adorable smile drawn on his lips.
you turned the handle gently. and lord, didn’t the scenery you were greeted with turned you on.
your boyfriend’s toned body resting on the bathtub, lavender-scented bubbles covering most of it, his nipples being exposed to the fresh bathroom air that would soon turn into a heavier one, and his arms resting on each side of the tub. a serene, yet excited, expression decorating your boyfriend’s gaze.
“hi, beautiful,” he welcomed you. his eyes becoming crescent moons due to the effect of his beaming smile.
“there they are, those beautiful eyes i love so much,” you mumbled, walking right next to him to caress his left cheek soothingly. “how’re you feeling, champ?”
“alive as fuck,” both of you giggled at his response, your loving gaze locking with his for a moment of comfortable silence. suddenly you felt his hand fondling yours.
“mind joining me here?” his sharp eyes turning darker than they already were as they looked at you. fortunately for your boyfriend, you were willing to give him the moon and the stars that night.
Tumblr media
you still can’t explain how you ended up on top of san, the water covering up to your navels, while he moved his thumb masterfully over your clit and his fingers repeatedly entered your cunt. his phalanges stretched you deliciously, causing several moans and moans from you.
“is that the spot, sweetheart? you're shaking so much.” his voice was hoarse and deep as the ocean, causing dizziness to affect your common sense.
“y-yes, don’t stop, please- ahh! ngh...” you could barely answer.
“sorry, love.” he announced before stopping his movements, drawing a annoyed, pathetic whine from your swollen lips. before you could insult him, he spoke first. “’wanna feel your tight cunt cumming around me, pretty.” during his brief pause, a pitiful cry from you was heard. “will you let me?”
“yes!” you answered desperately, “y...yes, i’m all yours, sannie. use me.”
san let out deep groan, which resonated inside your ears and made your heart jump out of your ribcage for a second. you rapidly adjusted yourself so you could reach the height of his crotch and massage his veiny, prominent erection, then align it to your entrance.
“go down slowly, don’t want my pretty girl to break.” he expressed, his soft, low voice driving you insane. still, you looked at him with cocked eyebrows.
“break? hah. surely, coachella drove your ego up to the clouds.” your eyes stabbing daggers into his. his hands found a home on your hips, slightly drawing them down to insert his cock inside you. your hand landing on his bare chest stopping his every move.
“nah. it’s just that you’re kind of fragile after all.”
you knew he was messing with you, provoking you. if there was one thing he always reminded you of, it was how strong, determined, and passionate you were, and it was one of the many features that made him fall deeply in love with you.
“let’s see who’s the fragile one here” you went down without warning on his cock, surprisingly touching your cervix all at once. a moan was snatched from both of you. your shaking body began to move carefully up and down him.
“f-fuck, yn- mm,” you heard a strangled moan from your lover, his lower lip was caught in between his teeth.
“f-fragile? that’s y...your- ah! your shit ass cock.” you manage to respond, notoriously provoking him.
“i don’t think it’s a shit ass cock, beautiful- ngh.” he panted, “just look how full you are.” he held your hand delicately despite the momentary brutality and placed it over your belly, a small lump formed there, “full of me, and my shit ass cock.” san breathed, kissing your collarbone, leaving cute lovebites in it. “you cry and beg for it every single night, hun. what does that have to say about you, hm?” a pitiful whine left your lips, demonstrating san that you were truly incapable of formulating coherent words. you were just too fucked out.
“well, lemme tell you,” he continued. “you’re just a dumb girl who needs to be fucked by a big fucking cock, otherwise, you don’t stop whining.” he said profoundly, his voice stimulating all your senses at once as he absolutely ravished you. “isn’t that right, princess?”
“i- ah! sannie, pleeease.” you blubbered, your eyes shedding the most precious tears.
“i asked you a question, darling. and i expect you to answer.” he sentenced sternly, grabbing your jaw and mushing your cheeks together. a pout was, therefore, formed on your lips.
“yes! yesyesyes, you’re right. i just need and think about being fucked by your big fucking cock-” you acknowledged, immersed and lost in the feeling, feeling like he was fucking you just like the first time.
“you’re such a cutie when you whine for me.” he chuckled while you, on the other hand, couldn’t hold back your screams anymore. his eyes stuck to your bouncing breasts, and your parted lips.
“what happened, princess? is it too much?” he cooed at you, looking at you adoringly, his eyes beaming at the sight of you.
“n-no,” you tried with all your might not to stumble over your words, but it was almost impossible since your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion of your boyfriend's cock into your tight cunt.
“no? let’s see if it is now,”
your bastard boyfriend directed his hand toward your vagina, his ring finger and middle finger deliciously touched your clit. san watched as you exploded inside, his cock was bringing you closer to an abysmal orgasm that you doubted you could withstand, but you were a masochist, and despite all of this, you continued to go up and down on his cock sloppily.
“san! i’m s-so close- fuck!” your frowned eyebrows, reddened cheeks, swollen lips, and arched back made san float, he couldn’t worship you more than he already did at that moment. he was internally so grateful that you were his. only his to kiss, to hug, to fuck, and to adore.
you had had many guys behind you in the past, and they all promised the same thing: ‘i promise you the moon and the stars’, but absolutely none of them reached the level that choi san reached, who promised and delivered to make you see the stars, the moon and– fuck, he made you see the entire milky way every time you were with him.
“go on, babe. let it out for me, i got you,” he hid his face in the crook of your neck when you slowed down bouncing, and then he lifted it up. his lips brushed your neck, a position which he took advantage of to lick and suck on the side of it, adorning it with some nice and new hickeys next to the ones he did some moments ago.
san did everything he could to give you a good orgasm, a strong one, but pleasant. he loved seeing your expression as you had reached the peak of pleasure, a squirt erupted between your bodies, causing strangled moans to come from both mouths. your walls became tighter, squeezing out every drop of cum held in san’s hard cock. you felt how a strip of that viscous, white essence warmed your insides even more. the feeling even being comfortable in some kind of way.
“see? i didn’t break, idiot. hah,” you huffed out a sigh, looking at that beautiful face that you would never get tired of.
“mhm, you’re always so strong and beautiful. aren’t you, my love?” he reacted breathlessly as he stroked your cheek, as if it were the finest diamond.
“always, and only for you,” you wrinkled your nose as you looked at him foolishly in love.
you turned and felt stupid every time you were around this man, but what could you say? you weren’t complaining at all.
that man was capable of loving you in all your facets, in all your states and moments.
you were also grateful that choi san was yours, and solely yours.
“well, big boy,” you started, settling into his chest with him still inside you, keeping you warm, “i’m very proud of you and your achievements, love. you really brought home the trophy.”
“actually, you came here all by yourself.” he flirted, a cocky smile causing a giggle to ring inside your ribcage. “hm. thank you, princess. but the actual trophy is you and will always be you.”
you hid your face with your hands, splashing a little water unintentionally, “don’t start being all mushy, you softie. i’m gonna cry otherwise,”
he laughed, his voice causing your skin to vibrate lightly. “okay okay. wanna finally wash up?”
“can we just... stay like this? just for a bit,” you closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth your boyfriend provided you.
“of course, princess. whatever you want,” he held you in his arms safely, making you sleepy. two minutes of silence filled with tranquility and love passed, until san started talking, “remember you’re always my trophy.” he muttered lowly with his honey-dripping voice.
“babe,”
“hm?”
“shut up.”
| masterlist
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
messylustt · 11 months
Text
౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 5.4k words.
fic masterlist previous part pt five next part
Tumblr media
angst??; violence; speaking of injuries — damn y/n is in the wars; cute little worried, mad miguel; since I’m going from y/n’s perspective to miguel’s a few times it’s may seem a bit jumpy, hope that doesn’t annoy anyone — miguel gives you shocking news. and as you go to head home you end up in a different universe, meeting some spider kid, leaving miguel and the rest of them to worry and search for you.
Tumblr media
You walk with purposeful steps. Passing by spider variants, who spare you confused glances at your almost pissed off expression. Though when one would meet your gaze you’d smile—genuinely, which made them think that a certain person was the target of your anger.
“Oi y/n— wow.” Hobie jumped down in front of you, observing your furrowed features. But yet again they would smooth out upon seeing a face you didn’t want to punch. Pavitr and Gwen were close, coming to stop beside Hobie.
“Hi.” You greet them.
“You look stressed as hell.” Hobie comments, making you forcibly chuckle.
“Not at all.” You quickly say, before veering to pass them.
“You alright, y/n?” Gwen asks.
“I appreciate the concern. I do.” You say, walking backwards. “But I’m in a bit of a rush. And annoyingly this can’t wait.”
“Careful!” Pavitr warns as you quickly skirt past a table your hip almost hit.
“Thank you!” You shout back as you rush towards a certain office that made the lines return to your forehead.
You push open the door, stalking towards the centre of the room. At the outburst Miguel looks down. He looks away knowingly, upon seeing you and your angry expression.
“Fired?!” You exclaim up at him. He doesn’t spare you a glance, continuing to tap and swipe at different screens. “I’m fired?!”
You hold up a scribbled note that said ‘You’re fired as of Tuesday’.
“You still have a day.” Miguel comments calmly.
You scoff in disbelief. “What the hell did I do?! …and can you come down here, it’s very hard yelling like this!”
Miguel sighs, but drops down in front of you. He looks bored. And that seems to piss you off more. You step closer. “You wrote me a note?” You’re still in disbelief. “You didn’t even add the reason.”
“Believe it or not that was purposeful.” Miguel monotonously says.
You narrow your eyes. “Why?” You try to lower your tone, taking deep breathes.
Miguel just tilts his head, observing your antics. You blink. “So, you’re not gonna tell me?”
He doesn’t say a thing, confirming so. You’re beyond annoyed and in all honesty what have you to lose? You’ve already lost your job, for a reason you’re dying to know and your adrenaline enduced veins seem to think that pressuring him is a smart idea.
You step closer, but realise that your “intimidating” gaze is doing nothing, his towering height making you feel like an ant. You dart your gaze around, stopping on a swivel chair, you snatch it, quickly standing on it, so that you’re somewhat of a millimetre taller than him.
“We made a deal.” You say, finally feeling a little more in control now that Miguel is looking up at you.
“And now its over.”
“That’s not how deal’s work.” You say.
“Oh.” Miguel hums. “That’s a shame.”
Your nose twitches as you hold back a snarl. Miguel is an infuriating man—it’s just that simple.
“I’m not leaving, not until you at least give me a reason.” You say, trying to appear threatening. But being in front of a man who looks it 24/7 is really dampening your confidence.
He continues to look up at you and your heaving chest, and face that’s tightened in annoyance. He sighs. “It’s better this way, y/l/n.”
“And why is that?” You try again to get the ‘reason’ out of him.
“You can go.” He turns, beginning to head back. You stare after him, mouth opening in disbelief at his complete dismissal.
You go to get off the chair, feeling your entire being deflating. But your foot seems to miss the step down as you begin to tumble forward. But before you can hit the ground a web is attaching to your hand, and yanking you into a chest.
Miguel’s breathing is displayed in that quick moving chest. One hand wrapped around your waist, while the other—that had shot the web—has ahold of your wrist.
Your eyes are wide at the fast movement of it all. “You want to know why you’re fired?” Miguel begins. “Because you’re accident prone. One trip and you could mess everything up.”
You meet his gaze. “That’s very assumptive.” You say. “You and I both know that I haven’t “fucked” anything up.”
“Yet.”
“Yet?” Your brows furrow. “You’re betting on a ‘yet’?” You step away from him, getting your wrist out of his hold. “You made a decision based on your own wrong assumptions.”
Miguel’s expression has finally changed, actually displaying an emotion—anger—but still an emotion. He grabs the bottom of your shirt, pulling you harshly back to him as his breath fans over your face.
“How do you know my “assumptions” are wrong? Huh?” He snarls.
You glare up at him. “How do you know they’re right?” His grip tightens around the material of your shirt, but you continue. “Right now, if you were to tell me that you hated my work ethic, or that I was genuinely shit at my job, I’d leave—maybe a bit upset—but I’d understand.”
Miguel’s eyes are darting everywhere they can.
“But you’re giving me nothing.” You’re blurting everything you can think to say. If not the job back, then you’re going to get your reason for it being gone. “Just say, you hate the way I work.”
You stare at him. “Please.” You’ve somewhat calmed down. Your face softening to one close to simple pleading.
Miguel gulps, his chest slowing but his heart beating on overdrive. You were so close, looking up at him with a genuine pleading look. You just wanted closure.
His hand hadn’t let up its grip on your clothes, part of him not wanting to let go.
“I thought you said you had to have a reason to fire me.” Your voice is back to your normal tone—one that always made Miguel feel comfortable, safe. Which is odd considering you wouldn’t be able to protect him or practically anyone here. Physically at least.
You sigh, realising that there’s no budging Miguel. It’s him, for crying out loud. You were stupid to think you could get anything out of him that he didn’t want you to know.
You reach your hand down, grabbing his wrist and pulling your shirt away. You back up, hands up in an almost surrender—saying ‘fine, I’ll go’.
Miguel doesn’t like the silent sentence for some reason, his expression morphing back to anger. He again swiftly shoots a web to attach to your stomach, yanking you forward again.
“Can you stop that?” You ask, once you’re directly in front of him again. “At this rate put a leash on me.” You mutter. You’d given up. And all you wanted to do was pack up and leave. Why was he dragging this out?
“Would that work?” He whispered. And now through your annoyed haze you noticed how close he was…again.
But the drop of his tone made your breath hitch, different from before. He leans closer, red eyes fully focused on you. “Would it?” He asks again.
“Would what?”
He tilts his head, licking his lips. “A leash.”
Your eyes widen, as you choke out your answer. “That was…a joke. I was kidding.”
“But would you stay out of trouble if you had something constricting you?”
Your mouth opens and closes. He had slowly been pulling you closer by the attached web, his claws dancing across the orange before they reached the material of your shirt again.
“Es eso todo lo que tengo que hacer, chaparrita?” (Is that all I have to do) He darkly whispered.
You focused on his words. You had wanted to understand Spanish before, but now you’re dying to know. And luckily, in your own time you had been studying—having stolen your phone back.
“No, O’hara.” You begin. “Todo lo que tienes que hacer es ser honesto.” (All you have to do is be honest.)
Miguel stares at you, brows furrowing for only a moment. He looks taken aback. And from his underlying impressed expression, you know your words had made sense.
“When did you learn that?”
“Why are you firing me?” You counter.
And for once, Miguel finally gives in, up to a peak with his emotions. “Because of the fucking attack!” He finally says it, or more so ‘exclaims’ it.
You pause. “The attack?”
He hisses in annoyance at himself. “I’m supposed to be helping people—the multiverse. That was the whole point of this.” He mutters out.
“I’m not following… How did I mess that up?” You ask, staring at him in confusion.
“You didn’t. Which is beyond annoying, because I’d much rather a reason where you were the problem.”
“That’s…very flattering.” You mutter, as he continues.
“But the reason why I’m firing you is because…” he clenched his jaw, closing his eyes for a moment, seeming annoyed to even think of saying it.
“Because you got…hurt.”
And of course it goes in one ear and out the other. Because in what universe does that make sense. You stare at him, blinking too many times.
“What?”
“I’m not saying it again.” He says, stepping away from you.
“No, no. What?”
Miguel is turned away and cursing at himself. Why did he admit that? He should have just said you were shit at your job.
You finally assess his words, maybe not the underlying meaning, but his general words at least. “I’ll be honest…” you begin. “I thought that was in the job description.”
Miguel turns. “What?”
“Getting hurt.” You say. “I mean maybe not that extreme considering I’m behind a desk, but I knew the risk.”
“You knew you might get hurt if you took this job?” He reiterates.
“Yeah.” You breathe. “But you’d understand. I mean you are spider-man.”
“Yeah…” he drifts off. “But you’re…”
“A weak human?” You ask.
He looks away, frowning. “I didn’t mean that.”
“It’s fine.” You say. “I can’t lie and say it isn’t the truth.”
“It’s not—“ he says extremely quickly before he extremely quickly follows with: “—entirely true. You’re also annoying.”
You raise your brows. “So, I’m an annoying, weak human who just got fired?” You slowly ask.
Miguel presses his lips together. “It’s bet—“
“Better this way.” You cut in. “Yeah, I heard you.” You sigh. “Thanks for telling me the reason.” Your tone has shifted to one Miguel really doesn’t like. You sound…disappointed…distant. And why wouldn’t you be? Of course Miguel expected this but for some reason it just didn’t settle right in his stomach.
But before he knows it you’re opening the exit door, giving him a small smile and a nod, saying: “Sorry for the…outburst.” Before you’re shutting the door and leaving.
;;
“Where is she?” Miguel is asking Peter, thankful for once that he didn’t bring Mayday.
Peter scratches the back of his head, pretending to look busy. Miguel begrudgingly turns to Hobie, raising a brow. Hobie looks him up and down before scoffing. “You’re the one who ‘fired’ her, remember mate?” He sounds annoyed.
Miguel swiftly shifts his gaze to Gwen. “She still has a day. Where is she?”
“She decided it was best to leave today.” Gwen says.
“How’d she get a wristband?” Miguel asks, narrowing his eyes. He slowly shifts his gaze back to Hobie, who is sitting, legs up on a table.
“Hobie.”
“Yes, boss?” Hobie asks, praying innocence.
“Why?” Miguel asks, gritting his teeth.
Hobie stands, walking up to him. “Why do you care? Ya clearly seem to think she’s an annoyin’, weak human.”
Miguel holds the bridge of his nose. “Did she tell everyone that?” He mutters out in question, more so to himself.
“No, she didn’t. I ‘appened to hear it.” Hobie says, making Miguel look back up.
“So she just left?” He asks, his uninterested expression cracking a fraction—only a fraction.
“That is what you wanted.” Pavitr chimes in, twisting one of his gold bands.
;;
Miguel breathes, heading back to his office. Once inside he taps his wristband, opening up a portal. He pauses. Why was he even going? You’re gone, home, safe. Just like he wanted. Why is he messing that up by seeing you?
But he’s already through the portal arriving outside your door. You lived alone so he didn’t have to worry about scaring your family. He knocks on your bedroom door, and waits. And waits. And waits.
Look, patience isn’t something Miguel is very good at, so he twists the handle, opening the door to your room. He narrows his eyes, seeing you not inside. Sure, you could have easily gone out, but as he scouted the room, he began to realise that you hadn’t been in here for a while. Dust had formed on your desk, while your bed stayed untouched and made.
“Lyla.” He calls, her appearing quickly by his shoulder. “Was y/n here?”
Lyla computes the room, scanning for footprints or any of your fresh DNA. “No. She hasn’t been here for a while.”
Miguel goes to turn back to his portal, when he steps on something. Looking down, he sees a bracelet by the very edge of the door. Picking it up, he asks Lyla again.
“Ah, she was here, recently. Only in the doorway, it seems.” She answers.
Miguel goes to pocket the bracelet but realises that he technically doesn’t have any, so he instead puts the bracelet around his wrist, walking back through the portal.
;;
“What?” Peter voices his surprise. “But she was just heading home. She’s not there? And hold up, why did you go—“
“Hobie what wristband did you give her?” Miguel interrupts, turning to Hobie. “One of your faulty ones?”
Hobie rolls his eyes, swinging his guitar strap around his body. “It was a normal one, a spare I found.”
“And you’re sure she’s not just out?” Gwen checks.
“No, I’m not, Gwen.” Miguel sarcastically states. “You really think I didn’t check?”
“Do you think she could have gone to another universe?” Pavitr asks.
“Why would she do that?” Peter asks, brows furrowed.
“Dunno, maybe she wanted to rebele.” Hobie comments. “Wouldn’t blame her.” He shoots this at Miguel, who narrows his eyes.
“I called you all here to find her.” Miguel says. “You seem to have been around her a lot. You’d have more of an idea then any other spiders.”
;;
While the spider-men and woman were all wondering where you had went, you were wondering the exact same thing.
You had been walking down the street, trying to face any form of familiarity. But nothing stands out. This wasn’t your home. This wasn’t your universe.
You keep touching your wrist in hopes to magically find the wristband there, but no, it’s still gone. Where? You wanted to know that too.
You watched as people chatted and ate, many at the city’s cafes and restaurants. It was growing darker and as you looked up you felt a single drop of water land on your cheek.
You manage to reach a bus shelter, taking a seat. Where the hell were you?
“Miles!” A man’s voice calls.
“I’ll be back, dad! I just…forgot something…at school!” Miles answers.
You shift your gaze from the falling sky to a cop and his assumable son, who is rushing down the street. You go to shift your gaze away again when you catch sight of something falling out of the kid’s bag. Narrowing your eyes you just catch what looks to be a spider-man mask, before Miles is quickly shoving it back in.
You then hear a ruckus some way down the street. A shop…being robbed. Then it clicked. This ‘Miles’ was running to the scene, because he was this universe’s spider-man.
You quickly stood, covering your head with your hands, preventing some of the rain from soaking your hair as you rushed to follow. Maybe this spider-man was apart of the spider society, and had a wristband. Whatever the outcome, you felt better that you had somewhat of a plan.
;;
When you reached the shop you chose to wait outside, knowing it not smart to just run into danger.
The fight is finished rather quickly, with a few broken windows and thrown food, but no one from the looks of it got hurt.
And as you began to follow Miles—having spotted him heading to an alleyway—you realise how creepy you would seem just following this kid who doesn’t know who the hell you are. But it’s too late to backtrack because he’s swiftly turning and shooting a web to attach your hand to the concrete wall.
You gasp in shock as the kid quickly runs up. “I’m sorry, I thought you were—“
“An evil dude, yeah don’t worry I started to think so too.” You chuckle, slowing your breathing. Your hand had smacked pretty hard against the wall, and as Miles cuts the web you realise that your hand is partially red and bruised.
“Sh— I am so sorry.” He said, spotting the slight injury too.
You wave him off. “That’s alright. I…uh needed to ask you something.”
Miles stands straighter, probably expecting you to point him in the direction of more danger. “You are the spider-man of this universe, right?”
Miles pauses. “Wait, you know—“ he shuffled closer, whispering. “You know about the other universes?”
You nod. “I was wondering if you had a wristband.”
“A wristband?” Miles’ confusion makes you deflate.
“So you don’t know about that…” you sigh, your plan dissolving away.
“Know about what?”
You smile. “That’s alright.”
You begin to step back out of the alleyway, placing your hands in your jacket pocket. “Nice job, by the way.” you gesture to the hung up robber.
“Thanks.” Miles shrugs, still looking thoughtful.
But as you near the street, you suddenly glitch, hitting against the wall, hissing in pain. Shit, or course. You were in a different universe…without a wristband.
Miles quickly reaches your side. “You’re not from here.” He mutters. He then loops his arm around your midriff, your body continuing to slightly glitch. “Jeez, I didn’t think that would hurt as much.” You mutter.
Miles brings you back into the alleyway, resting you against the wall. “What universe are you from?”
“Earth 1–“ you glitch. Then finally you stop, resting your head against the wall.
Miles kneels by you, still deep in thought. “Would you know a girl named Gwen Stacy?” He suddenly asks. Almost as if he had been waiting to ask someone this exact question.
You quickly meet his gaze—through the mask, of course. “You know Gwen?” You ask
“You know Gwen?” He repeats back.
“Yeah, she’s apart of the spider society.”
“The spider what?” Miles asks.
But you continue. “How do you know her? Wait.” You pause. “You’re Miles right?” You double check, not wanting to seem creepy and stalker-like.
“Yeah…” he drifts off.
“She spoke about you.” You smile. “A lot, actually.”
Miles decided on taking his mask off, either deciding on it being fine for you to see, or knowing that you must know what he looks like already. You can spot a faint blush on his cheeks at the mention of Gwen mentioning him.
“How did you get here?” He asks.
“It had to have been from the wristband.” You mutter. Before speaking louder for Miles. “There’s these wristbands that can transport you to different universes without all this glitchy mess.”
“Wow. Do you have one now?” He asks, looking to your wrist.
You shake your head. “Somehow I lost mine. And to be honest, I didn’t plan on coming here. I meant to go home.” You then get reminded of the fact that you got fired, and you mentally narrow your gaze at a non existent Miguel.
His reason still didn’t make sense to you. But you did get one. And you weren’t one to backtrack on your word, leaving like you had said.
“I’ve helped send a few spider…people back to their universes.” Miles begins. “But that was using something kingpin—this villain, created.”
You rest your head back against the concrete wall, the rain growing louder and louder, and heavier and heavier. “How are you gonna get home?” Miles asks.
You sigh. “I’m really not sure.”
;;
Miguel has gotten Lyla to try and retrace your steps through the different universes. But there’s a lot. So, even though it’s been a few hours she’s found nothing as of yet.
Miguel didn’t know how to feel about the two different options of your disappearance. You could have either gone on your own—chosen to, like Hobie had said. Why you would ever do that, Miguel would love to know. But would that make it his fault if something happened?
He knew you loved your job. And he had fired you, for selfish reasons that he covered up with, it being ‘in your best interest’. To Miguel it was, but you wouldn’t see it that way. He’s sure you don’t.
But then there’s the alternative that you had gotten taken. Miguel barely dove into that theory, his hands turning to fists so tight that he cut the skin of his palms through his suit, his claws tainted with his own blood. He almost felt bad for whoever had the terrible idea to take you.
If you thought what happened to those masked men in the office was bad, then you’d be horrified to see what he’d do to this supposed captor.
But right now it seemed to be worse—the not knowing. He didn’t know if you were happy, scared, living your best life, or…dead.
“Lyla!” He exclaimed turning to her and her tiny computers.
“No matter how many times you yell my name, it’s not gonna make me find her any quicker.” She sing songs.
He groans, going back to pacing. Then he hears the arrival of Gwen, Hobie, Peter and Pavitr. Turning, he doesn’t like the looks on their faces. “What is it?” He asks, crossing his arms.
Gwen looks down. “We found out that…she didn’t go voluntarily.”
There’s silence besides the almost ‘loud’ gaze of Miguel. “What was that?”
“There’s been talk through majority of the universes, about these…guys.” Peter begins.
“And when one showed us a left behind mask, it was the exact same as what those men that infiltrated HQ wore.”
“What do you mean by ‘didn’t go voluntarily’?” Miguel asks, stepping closer to them all. “How do you know that?”
“It’s more ov’ a guess.” Hobie says. “From what people were sayin’, those “guys” never let someone get away alive.”
“Y/n did.” Gwen adds, looking solemn.
“So, you lot came here, with one piece of information saying that she’s either gonna get killed or is already dead?” Miguel calmly asks.
But his ‘calm’ tone isn’t necessarily…calm. It’s more like the calm before the storm.
“It’s information that could help us.” Gwen tries to stay positive. “We can try and track these masked guys. Maybe there’s a base in a universe. That’s where she could be.”
“All I’m hearing is ‘could’ and ‘maybe’, Gwen.” Miguel says. “I’m gonna need something a little more definite than that.”
All the spider-people seem to notice the way Miguel’s expression shifted the moment the ‘masked men’ were brought up. He knows something they don’t. And that seems to irritate Hobie the most.
“Well, what do you ‘ave?” He asks Miguel. “We’ve at least found some’ing. What ‘ave you found?”
Miguel’s gaze is narrowed, his face solemn as he stares at Hobie. Hobie steps closer, his boots the second loudest thing in the room.
“Another thing,” Hobie adds. “While I’m talking…” He taps at his jeans to a beat only he can seem to hear. “I’ve never seen you act—I’m surprised to say—worried. Especially with y/n. I thought you hated her.”
“Mind your business.” Miguel turns, preparing to web up to the screens.
“My bad, boss.” Hobie backs up, a small smirk on his face.
“I thought you two were friends?” Why Miguel was suddenly having this conversation with Hobie he wasn’t sure, he just felt angry, because Hobie sounded so entitled to you. Like Miguel should stay “hating” you and that’s it.
Of course Hobie was just being his normal self, but with Miguel’s gaze glazed over with too many emotions he’s barely felt before, he sees red.
“So, why don’t you seem more worried about her?” Miguel continues.
Hobie chuckles. “You are worried.” He mutters to himself, shaking his head.
Miguel grits his teeth. “Ever heard of guilt?” He asks. “I don’t particularly want her to die. Having that on my back is gonna be extremely annoying.” Lies, lies, lies.
“Sure, Miguel.” Hobie hasn’t wiped his smirk off yet, and Miguel’s temper is rising.
“Alright, this is not helping.” Gwen quickly chimes in. “Y/n’s helped us, and we’re gonna help her…let’s just leave it at that.”
Miguel heard her. But all he can seem to focus on is Hobie’s smug face, as if he knows something no one else does. Something not even Miguel has really admitted to yet.
;;
You and Miles have talked, about a lot of different things actually. You had originally been trying to come up with a plan to get you home, but it soon evolved into telling each other’s life stories.
“Please tell me that is not how Gwen got her hair like that?” You’re laughing.
“I hadn’t known what to do.” Miles groans, slightly embarrassed at the memory of his first day as spider-man. His hand—being extremely sticky—not leaving Gwen’s hair.
“Wait.” Miles suddenly stands, gazing around. “Somethings wrong.”
You quickly join him, darting your gaze around the alleyway. The rain had ceased, so the sound of heavy footsteps were growing much clearer.
You stiffen, as you carefully follow Miles to edge of the alleyway, right before you walk onto the street. But that’s when your heart stops.
A small group of masked men stand, much more intimidating in the clearer light—the rush of the explosion and fear before having clouded your vision. What were they doing here?
“You were supposed to watch her!” One is exclaiming to another. “Now she’s run off somewhere. Did you at least take her wristband?”
Your eyes widen. They’re the reason you’re here? You press further into the wall, listening hard. Why? You desperately wanted that answer.
“Of course I took—“ but he stops, quickly snapping his head in the direction of you and Miles. You quickly hit back against the concrete, Miles doing the same as both your chests heave.
Miles begins to pull down his mask, preparing to face them. But you grab his arm. It wasn’t a coincidence that these same men infiltrated HQ and are now here, assumably having sent you here as well. Something didn’t feel right, and something seemed to tell you that they upgraded in some way since their last attack.
These guy’s suits are bigger, more armoured, with neater woven green stitching. This was obviously some sort of ‘crew’. Most crews are based on a cause. Like the spider society, for example. They’re there to protect the multiverse from inter-dimensional anomalies.
What are these guys fighting for? Could they possibly be fighting against something?
You had too many unanswered questions to let this kid get involved. “Just hold on.” You say to Miles, staying pressed to the cold wall. He pauses, shifting his gaze who you, in question.
“I’ve seen them before.” You begin. “I think they might be the reason I’m here…”
“Then we should talk to them. Capture them and get them to talk.” Miles eagerly says.
You chuckles. “I appreciate that. But I don’t think it’s wise. Not with them.”
Miles goes to say more, when the sound of footsteps near. You immediately pull Miles farther out of view. Then Miles feels it. Instead of the ‘tingle’ he gets when danger is near, it’s more like a foreboding that travels though his entire being. And now he can understand your cautiousness, because for the first time in a while he feels genuinely scared—powerless.
The only thing you can think to do is begin to head down the alleyway, picking up speed. Then you’re both running. “Hey! I think I found her!” A voice shouts, and that’s when you run. The type of run that makes you feel lightheaded, and sick in your stomach.
Miles grabs you, web slinging across a building. “I should be fighting them!” He exclaims through the wind. “Why am I running away!?”
“It’s probably a survival instinct!” You exclaim, as he continues to swing. “Which is concerning since your spider-man.” You mutter this more to yourself. If spider-man’s first instinct was to run then what could this mean for the rest of society?
Then suddenly Miles is getting yanked back, his web snapping, resulting in you both falling to the hard ground. You hit the concrete with a harsh slam, making your eyes blur and your ankle scream.
“Shit.” You mutter. You’re praying it’s not twisted. Please don’t be sprained—you chant in your head, as you scramble to your feet, spotting a nearing masked man, claws out and ready.
You couldn’t see Miles, but to be fair you couldn’t see much. So you ran, or more painfully hobbled away. You had to put pressure on your ankle so that you would move. The man is nearing, his heavy breathing sounding louder than it should be.
But then you feel a hand wrap around your waist, pulling you somewhere dark and desolate. You go to scream, eyes wide, when a hand gets placed over your mouth, quieting any forming sounds that were about to fall.
You can’t see who it is, your blurry gaze and the dark atmosphere making it difficult. You squint, only knowing that someone is pushing you up against a wall, one hand wrapped around your waist, as the other keeps you quiet.
Then you feel a breath by your ear. “Don’t move.” He breathes. And finally the slight accent and familiar tone makes your entire body slump.
Miguel.
You never thought you’d feel so relieved to know it’s him, but once he had spoken, Miguel could feel your entire body relax, nearly sliding to the floor, the pressure you were placing on your injured ankle now faltering.
Miguel keeps you upright, tightening his grip on your waist, as he keeps his mouth by your ear. “Would now be a bad time to ask why you left a day early?”
And you actually laugh, half heartedly and mixed in with a groan of pain, but still a laugh nonetheless.
Then Miguel is moving his hand to hold your chin, as he tries to focus your gaze. “Can you see?”
Your eyes had begun to droop, the exhaustion gradually catching up to you. But then you grab Miguel’s arm tightly. “Miles.” You say, remembering the kid.
“Miles?” Miguel questions.
“The kid. I was with a kid. Another spider-man. Is he okay?” You rush this out, forcing Miguel to place his hand back over your mouth.
“Shh. You’ll get us caught.” He whispers.
You protest, needing an answer, because you could feel yourself slipping from consciousness.
“He’ll be fine. Gwen is with him.” Miguel consoles, seeing your stress. Your shoulders slump in relief, and finally the exhaustion catches up, grabbing a hold of you, as your eyes begin to flutter.
“Wow, wow.” Miguel mutters, catching your dropping body. “Don’t close your eyes.” He all but demands, but it’s too late. Your eyes roll closed, as darkness gives you a hug.
Miguel slips to the ground with you, holding the back of your head from hitting back. He prays that it’s just exhaustion, and nothing more…permanent.
His chest is heaving, his eyes trained on you, while his ears stayed focused, in case the sound of heavy boots broke the city noise.
But he hears nothing of concern, his finger—at first without permission—dragging along your jaw.
Your lips were slightly parted, your body so limp in his hold. “I’m sorry.” He mutters quietly, his dragging finger drifting up to your face, to brush a stray hair, still slightly damp from the rain.
His finger pauses by your lips, not quite touching, just hovering. He’d been in denial. Big denial. And maybe you wouldn’t feel the same, maybe you hated him. But right now Miguel couldn’t find it in himself to care, all the loud voices in his head zoning out to one single voice saying ‘I like her’ … ‘I like her a lot’.
Tumblr media
sorry, this one kinda goes everywhere. i needed to add my guy miles <3 i don’t know if I like this one *crying* it feels too random. I’ll hopefully get back on track next chapter
part six is on its way! — thanks so much for all your guys support on this series, you guys are truly incredible
taglist: @dangerousdreamkitty @ale-maral @inosukesweirdwife @flooftoof @cynicallyaestetic @silassinclair @mariiyoushi @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbbo @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees @nirishin @ily2lia @lillunna @cinnamoncattie @futuristicpandakid @maroonobserver @thatsopanu @edgyficuselastica @kittekat420 @stararctic @maxi-ride @renn-pumkin-head @scaraza @justanotherkpopstanlol @fauxizs @cloudsandrenoswife @ilmovor @larissa-lolll @elliemm @httpkiyoomi @j2warren @arquiiva @ilovemiguelohara @a-monster-can-filled-with-cum @fandom-gal44 @elwyn7 @albiebright
taglist #2 taglist #3 taglist #4 taglist #5
5K notes · View notes
latenightdaydreams · 9 days
Note
Please write about curvy reader with her 3 inches dick husband, Konig is reader's neighbor then helps her what's real sex feel like with his 10 inches cock😩
Can you imagine to difference😮‍💨 I'd want to cuck my husband🤭🤭🩷🩷
Let Me Love You Right (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, cheating
2.9k word count
.
.
.
You’ve been married to Chris for eight years now, you both got married young and he’s your first and only. To say sex has been lack-luster… would be kind. You both waited for marriage, Chris’s idea. That meant you fell in love with him FOR him. You try to remind yourself that every day since finding out Chris only has a 3-inch cock.
Every time you have sex, you lie there looking at the ceiling while Chris moans loudly and gets off in six minutes. He doesn’t know where the clit is either and his finger game is weak. He just isn’t good in bed. The fact you catch him staring at a very slender woman online adds to it all, you’re a thick and curvy woman. He makes you feel rejected so it’s hard to enjoy anything with him. At some point you began to question if maybe you’re truly asexual because you became so turned off to sex and to him.
Then one day, your new neighbor moved in. You were sitting on your couch sipping coffee as you watched a moving truck pull in. You thought nothing of it and went on with your day. Your husband left for work so you decided to go outside and water your garden. You haven’t worked the last three years; you both have been trying for a baby, but nothing has happened yet. You’ve learned how to fill your time with small hobbies.
You got dressed in comfortable clothes and went outside. You turned the water on and began to pull the hose. As you pulled, it got stuck. Assuming you were outside alone, you began to curse the water hose, bending over to fix it and struggling. Just then you heard the sexiest Austrian accent from behind you.
König was about to go on a walk when he saw you leave your house, wearing tight black biker shorts and a tight white t-shirt. Your body was…perfection. He stood watching your breast bounce slightly with every step you take. Your hips sway so gracefully side to side. He picked the right house to move into. Hearing your struggle snapped him out of his lustful day dreams and began to approach you.
“Do you need help? Miss?”
He looked down at you, his eyes traveling over the curve of your plump ass. Imagining how soft it would feel to squeeze. When you turned to face him, his eyes dropped to your breast. Again, his mind went to imagining his hands squeezing them. He’s a man with big hands, and your breasts look like the perfect size to fill them.
As you turn your eyes meet the most beautiful sleepy pale blue eyes you’ve ever seen. The man towered over you as if you were a tiny ant. His body is massive and solid looking. His blonde hair was shining in the bright morning sun. His face is handsome, rugged, with some scarring. You felt yourself get turned on for the first time in years.
“N- no, I’ve got it. Thank you.” You caught his eyes wandering over your body.
“I’m König, I just moved in next door.” He held his hand out for you to shake.
“I’m y/n.” You put your hand in his, it looked so small. “The accent, are you German?”
“Austrian.” His thin lips pulled into a small smirk.
“Oh, sorry.” You chuckled from embracement.
“It’s okay, the accents sound similar.” He chuckled as well.
You both stood there for a while just letting your eyes drink the other in. You could cut the tension with a knife. His blue eyes returned to yours and he gave you a small smile. The rest was history. Everyday after your husband leaves for work, you’d see each other. Drink coffee together, he’d help you garden, just talking about your personal lives. Nothing sexual. That was until today.
Sitting at his kitchen table with him as you sip your coffee and chat just like you both always seemed to do. Today was different though, you both being more outwardly flirty with one another.
“Your husband is a lucky man Maus, I’d love a curvy housewife.” His eyes travel down to your cleavage before back up to your eyes.
His comment makes you blush, you playfully nudge his arm. “Yeah right.”
“No really, I bet he is all over you.”
“Not really,” you tap your nails on the mug in your hands.
“No?” König tilts his head, he’s aware that he’s prying but he can’t fathom a man having you and not being obsessed.
“Nope…” You look into his eyes. You debate on whether or not you want to disclose all of your marital issues to him or keep it light.
“May I ask why?” His eyes drop to your fingers tapping. He reaches his hand out and grabs your off the mug, caressing your soft skin with his thumb. “You can talk to me.”
“Promise you won’t judge or laugh?”
“Promise, Maus. You have my word.”
“So, when we dated, we never did anything sexual past kissing. Like traditional and all.”
König nods his head along, listening to your words as he sips on his own mug of coffee. His eyes follow your lips as you speak.
“When we actually… you know…fucked,” You and König chuckle, “He pulled it out and was incredibly small.”
König raises his eyebrow with curiosity, “Small?”
“Small,” you nod, “like three inches small.”
König sat with his jaw dropped looking at you in disbelief. Three inches? He’s bigger than that when soft. No way three inches can get past how thick you are…
“And how was that?” His hand squeezes yours slightly.
“Terrible. I didn’t feel anything. I’m pretty sure I’m still a virgin because it barely went in…” You chuckle slightly at how embarrassing this is. “We’ve been trying for a baby for YEARS now and nothing because I just have no sex drive. On top of all of this, I catch him gawking at skinny women constantly. Women that look nothing like me.”
You take a deep breath, feeling like you’ve been ranting. König still caresses your hand with his thumb.
“I think you’re beautiful. Perfect just the way you are.” He says in a soft and tender voice. “I also think it’s a shame he doesn’t please you sexually.”
You give him a warm smile before your eyes move to your hand in his. You look at the drastic size difference between both of your hands before looking back up to him.
“Why don’t you leave? Find someone new? Someone compatible?” König means himself.
“He’s all I’ve ever known.”
“Don’t you think you deserve romance? Passion?”
You can feel your face getting hot as he asks you this. You do want it. He is the reason the spark of desire was reignited in your life to begin with, but you can’t just tell him this. You can’t just have sex with your neighbor.
All the while you are inside your head, König looks at you. He takes in your features, the way you rest your head in your palm, how soft your lips look.
“Maus?”
“Hm?” You look up after being lost in thought. “Oh, I guess. I actually had a period of thinking I was asexual because I just didn’t have that desire or drive.”
“Do you still feel this way?”
“No,” you look back down at your hand in his.
A short period of time passes before König speaks up, “Do you find me attractive?”
Your eyes shot up to his shocked he was so forward. You hesitate for a while because you’re still married. Saying the truth might open up pandora's box, but you feel stuck, stagnant.
“I do…” you respond meekly.
“I think you’re attractive too.” König lets that linger in the air before continuing. “I desire you, and I think you feel the same.”
König tightened his hand around yours. He reached out with his other hand and caressed your face. You both look at each other for a while before you speak up.
“I do.” You lean into his hand that caresses your face.
“I don’t mean to cross lines, but I think I could love you better than your husband. I could appreciate your body better. I could fuck you better.”
His hand moves from your face to the back of your head, his fingers combing through your hair and grasp firmly. He tilts your head back slightly as his eyes roam down the curves of your jawline and neck. You felt a heat rush over your body.
König stands and walks closer to you, leaning in and kissing your neck tenderly. The warm sensation of his lips sends a chill down your spine. You don’t stop him even though you know you should. This would break your husband, but you don’t care.
Kissing up your neck to your ear he whispers, “Let me worship you, bitte.”
“What if I don’t like it?”
You’re still worried that it’s a you problem. What if you just don’t like sexual encounters?
König chuckled, “I can make you cum. Don’t worry.”
Your cheeks go hot as you laugh nervously. He pulls away and gently pulls you by your hand, “Komm mit mir”
You stand and follow him through his house to his bedroom, his bed a massive king size bed. The bedsheets are a dark gray color with a black comforter. He gently guides you to the room and lays you on the bed. Leaning over you, his lips find yours as you share a deep passionate kiss. His lips made yours actually tingle; you’ve never felt that before. His hands begin to trace the curve of your waist to your hip before moving up to your breast and squeezing.
König breaks the kiss and moves off of the bed. He gently takes your shoes off your feet and places them neatly by the bed. His eyes traveled over your body before pulling his shirt off to expose his physique to you. He can see the desire in your eyes, causing him to smile.
As he went to reach for the waistband of your leggings, you stopped him.
“What if you don’t like how I look?”
“I’ll love it, trust me.” He reassures you in a low soft tone.
Nodding your head, you let go of his hands and let him take them off. His eyes glide over your juicy thighs and the light blue cotton panties you’re wearing. Your legs are a little stubbly, you weren’t expecting to do this. You feel slightly embarrassed by the hair, but König doesn’t seem to mind as he glides his hands up your legs once they’re bare. His lips kissing from your calf up to your soft thighs; once there he begins to nibble on the soft flesh.
“Mien Gott, you’re so soft.” He whispers as he rests his kisses on your thighs more.
“I’m sorry I didn’t shave-”
“It’s natural. I don’t mind hair Maus.” He smirks.
You relax back on the bed as his hands go up to the elastic band of your underwear and pull it off. His eyes falling on the small bush between your legs as he smiles. He can’t wait to bury his face in it.
“Are you okay?” König asks as his eyes meet yours.
“Yeah,” You look down at him as he begins to spread your legs apart. Your heart beat is pounding and, in this moment, you begin to think about the life you wanted to build with Chris but then, oh god. You drop your head back on the bed.
König sticks his tongue out and begins to lightly flick over your clit. Instantly your legs begin to tremble and you moan loudly. Your hands find his hair and comb your fingers through it. You can’t believe oral sex can be this good. König stops licking your clit to suck it.
“No, no, please lick it.” You look down again, begging in a pathetic voice.
König nods and goes back to flicking his tongue rapidly over your clit. You had a long morning of sweating so your natural musk is strong and König is savoring the smell. Listening to your loud moans he slowly moves his finger to your pussy and teases the entrance. Slowly slipping his finger in your gasp. He loves the reactions you’re giving. It’s insane to think you’ve gone your whole life without feeling this pleasure.
“König,” you moan out loudly as he begins to pump his finger in and out of you quickly, your back arching. A new sensation consumes you as you scream out, your body trembling. König closed his eyes, smirking, and enjoying hearing you orgasm.
He pulls back and moves his finger once you relax. You prop yourself on your elbows and look at him, wondering why he stopped.
“Take your shirt off, Liebling.” König’s voice dripping with lust.
You sit up and pull your shirt over your head before reaching behind you to take your bra off. König watches eagerly to see your breast for the first time. Watching them full and heavy, come out from your bra makes his mouth water even more. He can’t believe how perfect you are.
König begins to pull down his jeans and you watch, jaw dropping once you see the outline of his erection. He pulles his boxer briefs down completely and you see his hard cock full for the first time. Not only is it thick but it's long. You can’t help but to stare and König notices.
“Don’t be scared, I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt.”
“How…how big are you?”
“Uh, ten inches, I think. A little over. But don’t worry, I won’t push you.”
“Ten?”
König laughs and walks to the bed and lays beside you. He moves his body so that you’re resting close to him while he is on his side. He leans down and kisses your breast, slowly making his way to your nipple to suck on it while he is lifting your leg up with one hand, and moving his cock to rub your pussy with the other.
“Are you ready?”
“I am.” Your voice is weak with pleasure of him touching you.
Moving his mouth from your nipple he begins to kiss your lips. He rests your leg over his body to keep your legs spread as he wraps that arm underneath the back of your head. He breaks the kiss to look at you as the other hand still on his cock slowly pushes into your slick tight cunt. König’s breath goes shaky from the pleasure it’s giving him. He slides his hand up your leg and holds it up for a better angle.
You look back at him and your hands grasp whatever they can find, his pillow and his forearm. Your eyebrows knit together as you moan out his name. His cock pushing deep inside of you like you’ve never felt before. Your walls clench tightly around his fat cock as you feel stuffed for the first time ever.
König begins to thrust into you quickly, his eyes traveling to watch your breast bounce with the motion. Panting hard as his body begins to glisten with sweat. Your sweet moans and sopping wet cunt driving him to his breaking point.
“Y/n,” König moans as he leans down to kiss your lips.
You move your hand from his forearm to his jaw eagerly pressing his lips into yours harder. Moaning into his mouth as his tongue pushes past your lips and begins to circle around every corner of your mouth.
You feel the same overwhelming feeling of pleasure, you know you’re about to cum. You try to turn your head to let out moans but König moves his hand from your leg to your face to keep you kissing him, his tongue dancing with yours as you begin to orgasm.
Without warning König pulls out and steps off the bed. Your body is still trying to calm down. You look at him as he grabs your legs and drags you to the edge of the bed. He rests your legs over his shoulders as his hands grasp your hips. He slips his cock back into your needy pussy and begins to thrust as hard as he can.
Your back arches and you reach out grabbing the bed sheets as you loudly moan König’s name. König has sweat dripping from his forehead as he looks down at you not being able to handle his cock.
“You can take it, Maus, I’m going to cum.”
“Please, cum. Please fuck your cock is so- big.” You moan now looking up at him. Your face contorted from the pleasure.
“Beg for it more.”
“Please cum, please cum in my tight little pussy.”
“Oh, fuck ja, mehr!”
“Please cum in me.” You whimper out as his thrust picks up even more, the sound of his hips slamming into your ass fills the room.
König listens to you beg, watching your eyes glaze over with a lustful look. He nods his head as you beg him to fill your precious little pussy full of his cum. He does.
“Y/n! Fuck!” König moans out, dropping his head back as his cock throbs deep inside of you.
.
.
“Hey sweetie, did you have a good day today?” Chris asks as he walks to you and kisses your cheek.
“Yeah, I did.” You sit still thinking about König, excited for tomorrow.
“Did you do something different with your skincare routine? You look like you’re glowing.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Well, whatever it is, you should keep doing it.”
“Oh, I will.” You smile, holding your secret.
658 notes · View notes
rogueddie · 2 years
Text
Steve and Robin are very physically affectionate. It's part of their friendship, Eddie supposes, for them to be all over each other. He knows it's not romantic. He and Robin have already come out to each other, there's nothing to worry about there...
But Eddie has started to wonder if that physical affection is restricted to Robin. He's started to wonder if he'd be allowed to be like that with Steve. He's started to wonder if it would mean the same thing.
He decides there's only one way to find out. He decides to just... go for it. Slowly. He hopes it leads to good things.
When they next sit down to watch a movie in Eddies trailer, he doesn't go for the single chair, tells Robin and Steve to shift. It's a squeeze, but they all fit. Steve is squished between him and Robin but, if anything, he looks very happy.
He starts sitting closer after that, pressing fully against him. He never looks bothered, doesn't even acknowledge it happening outside of the occasional smile sent his way.
So Eddie ups the ante. He starts touching his back, as casually as he can- the first time, he puts a hand on his lower back, gently pushing him forward so Eddie can squeeze past. Sometimes he'll pat him on the back. Usually, he'd let his hand rest on Steves back when he's leaning close.
But, again, Steve doesn't react much. Sometimes Eddie will catch him smiling to himself, sometimes will feel him leaning back into the contact. So it's more than ok. But Eddie kind of wants to see Steve react...
He puts a hand on Steves thigh one day. The opportunity was perfect- Robin is on the other side of the room and Steve, sitting next to him, blocks his view. So he shifts, leaning forward, using Steves thigh as leverage.
Steve goes a little pink, but still... no real reaction.
Eddie keeps getting more touchy. To the point where no one bats an eye at Eddie being just as all over Steve as Robin is. Yet, aside from blushing a little more, Steve doesn't react.
Eddie isn't sure why he wants Steve to react, isn't sure how he wants him to react. He just knows that something will happen if he starts pushing and he's too curious to see what it is to stop now.
In the end, it's the smallest thing that finally makes him crack.
Eddie had come into the kitchen, finding Steve in the middle of doing the dishes. He'd snorted when he noticed a loose strand of hair hanging loose, Steve struggling to push it back without using his wet, soapy hands.
So Eddie stepped forward without thinking, gently brushing the hair back, taking a moment to brush through his hair and making sure it's sat right, how he usually styles.
"Oh, you fucking..." Steve muttered. He narrowed his eyes, almost glaring. "I don't know if you're just trying to be friends, but if that's all you want then you need to tell me, right now, because otherwise I'm going to kiss you."
Eddie blinks, stunned. "Your gonna what?"
But Steve takes that as an answer. Which then gives Eddie his; that type of physical affection is restricted to Robin. It means something very different with Eddie.
Later, curled up in bed with him, Eddie knows he's definitely found a good thing. He decides that he's not going to let go, not unless Steve wants him to.
12K notes · View notes
sugojosgf · 6 days
Text
jealous nanami
highly suggestive + masochism + jealousy
🍓 i might write a second part if you guys want, let me know tho :3
nanami and you have been going out for a few months, and you don't think you've ever been as happy as you are right now. nanami is everything you can ask for, he buys you anything you look at, kisses you like his life depends on it and loves you like you are his religion.
but he also gets so jealous very easily,,,
it's not that he doesn't trust you, not that he thinks you are the kind to stray, he just hates how people look at you, like you are theirs...
it was an office event, and of course nanami invited you as his plus one. making sure he got you the prettiest red dress ever, the way it hugged your body, had him so fucking hard. it was quite modest, the only skin revealed was your legs,,, but anything on you, or nothing on you (doesn't really matter) was enough to make him rock hard in his tailored pants.
"oooh- is this nanami's pretty girlfriend?" a man sauntered up to the both of you, dressed in an expensive white suit to match his hair.
you recognised him, how could you not? this was the very same coworker that nanami would complain to you about during dinner.
"gojo," his voice comes out a little strained, "yes, this is my girlfriend, you might recognise her of course, she interned in our company a while ago,,," kento answers, hand on your waist pulling you closer.
"awww, isn't she absolutely gorgeous, can't believe nanami got his hands on you before me." he giggles, eyes glimmering with a mischievous glint.
"i'm lucky she decided to go out with me,," nanami forces a smile, his grip on your waist becoming tighter.
you gasp and giggle, "nooo,, im the lucky one, kento is so kind to me," you say looking fondly at him.
you continue, "oh and thank you so much gojo! you look really good too,,," you return the compliment.
suddenly someone calls out to nanami, a fellow coworker and he gets whisked away leaving you all alone with gojo. he smiles like a cheshire cat, the gears in his brain working harder. he looks at nanami from where he is, making steady eye contact as he begins to talk to you.
he tells you about how nanami was actually his junior in high school and how he was really into the emo subculture then, recounting stories of young nanami that made you laugh until there were tears in your eyes. he fishes his phone out to show you a picture, teen nanami brooding and scrawny, hair swept to the side.
of course to you, you were just talking to gojo about your shared love for nanami. but to him, the one way out of earshot to understand the context of your giggling, the green fire of jealousy made its way to his heart.
he slowly makes his way over to you, pulling you away from gojo and hands travelling to your hip. you were still laughing, too far gone to notice the expression on his face.
"what's got you so giggly? hm?" he asks, fingers pinching your thigh. it's not really painful , almost like an ant biting. but you are the kind to bruise easily, red blooming the minute his fingers pull apart.
you are immediately pulled out of your laughing fit, eyes blown wide looking up to nanami. it's almost like he had conditioned you, a little touch to your pretty thighs and you were ready to cum in your little thong.
"o-oh! gojo was just showing me pictures..." you mumble, embarrassed by the heated stare nanami was giving you. you felt so small under his gaze. your tongue comes out to wet your lips, to ease the way your throat has dried up.
gojo stands still in front of the both of you, smirking as he sees the tension build. he knew very well what he was doing. rolling his eyes and happy that once again he managed to piss nanami off, he walks away to the bar.
"i think it's high time we go home,, you look needy." nanami rasps out, the hand on your thigh travelling upto your ass and staying there. you nod, words unable to string themselves together.
nanami sighs, eyes darkening and his smile dropping as he guides you towards the exit.
"when we are home, i'm going to teach you to use your words."
593 notes · View notes
kaivenom · 28 days
Text
Party Animals
Summary: you were drunk on a party and doing crazy things, next morning you think you made a huge mistake, but ends up being that it was the push you needed.
Pairing: Spencer "Spider" White x reader
Warnings: drunk people
A/N: conmemoring the release of season two of this amazing show (Heartbreak High) i have the need of writting about Spider and Ant, so expect about them the next days.
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Like always, Spider was being the soul of the party, drinking, dancing, laughing and being an absolutely pain in the ass. He was going around with Ant while you were in your corner drinking. He had been giving you small glances all night, it was frustrating because he will surely get to you and be an absolute asshole.
As if he had read your mind, Spider started to get close to where you are. You can't deny that he looks really hot with the lights of the club and that look on his face. It looked almost like he was possesed while he walks towards you. His eyes didn't leave yours once he notices you watching him.
After what looked like an eternity, he laid himself on the wall next to you, he was probably drunk, just like you... maybe that's why you can't decide if you want to go and ignore him or stay here and see what happens.
"Hi." what a gentlemen you thought.
"Hi, why are you here?"
"Ant is my friend, he throws the party."
"I mean next to me, asshole, you don't quite like me."
"That's not right," he is looking at you so serious that you feel he is looking into your soul, "I may treat you a little bad but i treat everyone like that, the other thing is that you are different."
"Wow, that's your strategy to try to have sex with me?" clearly alcohol is kicking you both.
"Maybe."
"And why do you think i will be with you?"
"Nothing, but trying it's free and i know you wouldn't do it in any other situation."
His face is closer to you every second, looking to your lips with a dreamy glance. For the first time you considered kissing him, you already thought about it but know you were starting to see it as a real posibility. You both were now really close, you can almost feel Spider's heat body, he was radiating an exciting warmth.
You don't know why but started to lift your hand and touch slowly his face, he closed his eyes almost instantly, savoring every second of your touch. Suddently his hand wrapped your waist and push you fully on to his body, now your lips are brushing and your breaths start to mix together.
"Tomorrow we can forget about this," he said before smashing his lips to yours.
His lips were soft and tasted sweet, you didn't spected that at all since you two were drinking for so long. Your hands running all over each other's bodies. Suddently you were trapped between the wall and Spider's embracing body. His lips traveling all the way up and down your neck, you were thankfull that the music was drowning your sounds.
You continued like that for a bit longer, lips pressed and bodies grinding onto each other, you didn't want that to end but suddently Darren appeared on scene.
"(Y/N)!!! we have to go, Amelie got us in problems," both of you were slow at processing what Darren said, "let's go, if you go now i won't say about this."
Darren's face showed their disgust really well, but hearing those words made you restart you breain and realize your actions. You got out of Spider's grip while he was still in shock and runned with Darren. At the end you didn't know if you run because of Amelie or because of your actions.
-----------------------------------------------
You spent all weekend coping with the embarrasment of what you've done and when the monday came, you decided to avoid Spider. That worked for three hours until he cornered you outside class.
"Hi."
"Hi, i need to go," this time you couldn't get away from him.
"No, we need to talk."
"You said we could forget it and i hope to do that, because we were drunk and we made mistakes."
"I don't consider it a mistake," you couldn't believe him but he was looking at you again, with those glowy eyes, "I know what i said but it was mostly to get you to kiss me but i... i can't forget about it and i don't want to do it because i dream about it a lot."
"You are saying you already thought about it?" his face was really red.
"Ye-Yeah..." he apparently doesn't know how to continue, you kissed his cheek, that was the only thing you thought of doing.
"I dreamed about it too." his face lightened up, before passing to a prideful smirk.
"So we can go out and take it where we left off."
"No, we will take it right and slow, and if we are going to start dating or something, you need to stop being a pain in the ass."
"I will do it if you give me a incentive to do it."
The bell rang and you surely know that your friends will be seeking for you, you kiss his cheek again and give him a little peck on the lips that left him static on place.
574 notes · View notes