#//so like this is me saying to slap a muse down in the replies of this post and I’ll make you one!

[realcube]

warnings: smut, f!reader, degradation, impact play, roughhousing, slutshaming, begging, daddy kink, overstimulation & anal plugs

as soon as you arrive home after a date night, he storms up to the bedroom, furiously dragging you along by the wrist, then throws you onto the bed as though you were weightless.

"why are you such fuckin' slut?" he sneers, standing at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed, "can't even have a nice dinner without you begging for it. can't you keep it in your panties for one night?"

his face is painted with disgust as he glares down at your sprawled-out figure, feebly clutching at the sheets. tears quickly gloss over your lashline, threatening to spill in response to his vulgar tone, but he simply scoffs at the pathetic sight.

"aren't you going t' answer me?" he spits. there is a beat of silence, in which you are able to open your mouth but just as you were about to croak a reply, he grabs your hips and flips you over on the bed, pushing down on the small of your back so your front is pressed against the mattress.

a small yelp escapes your parted lips as he does so, at which he snickers mockingly. "need to teach you some fucking manners." he aggressively hikes up the bottom of your dress to reveal your bare ass and already damp panties. a quick and firm spank is planted right on your ass cheek, before he allows his fingers to delve between your clothed folds.

"wet already. what a desperate pussy." he muses, expert fingers rubbing calculated circles over your clit and sensitive lips. then, in one swift motion, he tears your panties clean off, and the feeling of the cold air rush against your bare cunt was almost orgasmic.

when his fingers graze over your sopping hole, it serves as a reminder of the paradise he is missing, and he can't help but indulge himself for a moment, grabbing your hips and forcefully aligning himself with your entrance, grinding his clothed cock — erect but concealed in his trousers — against your drenched pussy. naturally you whine in response to the stimulation that you've been yearning for all night, and he rasps, "yeah, you like that? want more, baby? you want daddy's cock?"

there was a hint of scorn in his tone, exemplified by the swift slap on the ass you received, as he hastily jerked his hips away from your hole, depriving you of any pleasure. when you longingly mewl out his name in reaction, he rolls his eyes and paces away from you, walking around the side of the bed, "tsk. you aren't getting any dick tonight." he says with a shrug, purposefully avoiding eye-contact, as he knows full well the effect you have on him, "i've not got time for you. needy bitch."

"but i can't finish on my own.." you continue to whine in protest, reaching out and tugging gently on his shirt as a plea for his attention. "and i promise i'll be good for you."

he lets out an exasperated sigh and yanks open the top middle drawer of your bedside table, rummaging around in there for a couple seconds before marching back over to the foot of the bed. "fine, just stop your complaining." he grumbles, pushing down on your back to secure you in place on the bed, so he can shove a little pink toy into your pussy from behind. you gasp in reaction, then begin to moan as you feel the toy vibrating within your snug walls.

he huffed out a pleased sigh from his nose, "that shut you right up." meanwhile, he stood and admired the sight from behind, your hungry pussy greedily sucking up the body of the toy, leaving only the thin tail hanging out. although he didn't want to look for too long, as his erection was already throbbing in his trousers. the only thing he wanted more than to fuck you raw on the bed until you were creaming in his cock for the nth time, was to teach you a lesson about patience. and what kinda tutor would he be if he were to succumb to his own lustful desires so easily.

you were thoroughly enjoying the vibrator he had fit into your hole; happily squirming around on the bed, humming in pleasure — it was like stratching an itch that had been bothering you all day. while you bathed in the bliss, he worked on tying your ankles together and your arms to the bedposts, which went mostly unnoticed by you as you were evidently preoccupied.

truthfully, you only realised that he had fastened you to the bed once he comments, "stay like this for the night. let's see if you are still so fucking horny in the morning."

there is a brief pause, during which your blood rushed to your head, then he continues, "i don't think this enough for my slutty girl, actually." he comment, and before you can even fully process what he had said, you feel a cold metal plug slip into your asshole, conjesting your already aching insides even further, and contributing to the fiery knot ready to burst in your stomach.

"there we go.." he states plainly. after that, all you hear is the creaking of the door and the subtle sound of his footsteps as he walks away, "see you in the morning, princess." and the door clicks shut behind him.

kuroo, tsukishima, ATSUMU, hawks, dabi, bakugo, sukuna, GOJO, geto, BAJI, mikey, KUNIKIDA, chuuya

[mechahero]

//ooo you guys want me to make themed pride flag icons for you so bad

[nichuuu]

Polyamorous - 1: Own

Word count: 4k+ Thank you to @gangplanksorenji for proofreading & editing and @capslocked for the wonderful tips. Luv you guys < 3

Fuck. 

The expletive leaves your mouth right as Hanni’s tongue makes contact against the base of your shaft. She slides up, licking you up from base to tip. It was inane of you to think that the first thing a global icon like Pham Hanni would want to do after a long week was to take a shower, and you only realised this a second after Hanni dropped down to her knees and undid the string of your sweatpants, the former happening a meagre few seconds after she’d entered. Now here she is, her skin still glistening with sweat from her dance practice earlier as she lathers your shaft in spit. 

“Hello.” A simple greeting contrasts the intricate movements of her tongue, the one that swirled and curled around your shaft, slathering every inch of it in glossy, gooey spit. Her voice, her tone—every vowel, every consonant, every word (down to the last syllable), drips with lust. Well she’s needy today, you muse internally. As soon as she stepped through your apartment door, her hands were already on your waistband and chest, forcing the door shut with your body. The wantonness was ever so apparent in those eyes—the ones that looked up at you as she took her time to tease you. Through the jolts of pleasure that shoot up your spine, you manage a strained hey. 

A playful hand snakes up, grabs you by the balls. Her eyes gleam. 

“You’re full,” she comments. The hand begins a gentle massage of your low hanging fruits. “Been holding it in? To unload inside of you, is what you really want to say. Instead, what comes out is just a simple, raspy yep. The electricity in your veins overrides your brain’s functions, rendering you unable to translate your thoughts into words. The source of this problem is, of course, Hanni, but it's not as if she already knew the effect she had on you; the give away was the look of mischief on her face as her small hand wraps itself around your shaft, pumping with slow, teasing strokes as she let her breath linger around the head of your dick. The next question comes after she delivers a small kiss to your member: How long?

As her lips wrap themselves around you, your hands balled into fists against the door. She expects an answer out of you, but there isn’t much room for thinking when there’s a tight seal around your twitching shaft. For a moment, you think about just grabbing on tight to her skull and fucking her face right there and there. Why couldn’t you? Your shaft was already halfway into her mouth, your hands just centimetres away from her head, a simple motion—Reach forward, grip, thrust—was all you needed. But the control that Hanni has over you liquifies that desire, melting it into nothing but a puddle of a notion in your mind. 

“A-A week,” you miraculously manage to reply. Her eyebrows raise, your shaft sliding right back out of her mouth. The twitching meat rests against her cheek as she stares up at you. 

“A week?” Her lips pout as she speaks. You want those pouty, plump lips to shower your cock with kisses so badly. “You must have,” she slaps your head against the soft flesh on her face, “quite the load for me then.”

If she keeps this up, you have a feeling that the load she’ll get will be a lot bigger than what she expected. Of course, you keep this to yourself. You find it congenial to watch as she pumps your cock with your head resting against her cheek. 

“You know what I really want?” It’s a rhetorical question from her really. You knew exactly what she expected from the moment your dick came out of your underwear; I wanna bounce on your dick, I wanna take you in my ass, I want you to fuck me—All variations of the simple message: Fucking ravish me with your cock.

You know what she wanted, down to the last minute detail. Yet you shake your head. This is more than a simple test of your knowledge on her—it’s a game, a game to see who will follow who’s lead. Right now, it is Hanni who is in charge, this unspoken agreement made between the both of you from the moment she took your cock in her mouth. 

She rises from her knees, takes a step closer. Whispers, “I want you to fucking fill me.”

That’s a new one.

In your opinion, the cussing in the sentence was a bit excessive, but it doesn’t take away from the sheer intensity of the lust that bleeds through her words. Then she drags you by the cock, callous in her mannerism as she pulls you towards the couch. Barely ten minutes after she entered your apartment and she’s already getting right to it, and you are genuinely surprised that she didn’t begin her attempts to draw a thick load out of you at the door.

She tosses you onto the couch, then quickly takes her position between your legs. You have to remind yourself to breathe when those lips take you back into her hot, wet mouth; you force yourself to not break right there and then as she draws upwards with her lips and lets them slide over the head of your shaft. She was playing with you, toying with the rock hard meat between your legs to let the blood flow to all the right parts of your body. All you can do is let out a soft drawl—Fuck Hanni—as she slowly kisses up your shaft, doing what you wished she would do while you were still standing at the door. Her lips make contact with your dick more times than you can count. Her eyes sparkle, the corners of her lips upturned into an innocent smile. She’s intentionally breathing a little harder than usual, letting her breath tingle the head of your cock, 

The wink she gives you tells you that she’s about to take you for a ride. She doesn’t disappoint, the groan that rips through your throat being the sordid tell that she’s off to a great start. She lets her lips travel down your length—further and further till she realises that she can’t go down anymore, retraces her steps, goes down again. All of this is rinsed and repeated (and it isn’t done slowly, mind you) as drool accumulates on your cock, the fervent gurgling that emulates from the depths of Hanni’s throat telling you that she’s perfectly fine the way she is. 

Then she adds her hand, fingers twisting around your slick dick in a corkscrew motion: pumping, stroking, fucking milking you to the best of her ability. She’s pushing you past your limits, overwhelming you with all the sensations she would wreak upon you with what she had available. Your first thought was to grab her by the wrist, pump your shaft even faster with those slender fingers, but then she reads your mind, doing it for you better and faster than you could ever imagine. It slides up and down, up and down together with her lips, spit smiling out between the gaps between her fingers. 

Hanni had given you head before (not that it did anything to blunt the utter pleasure that she was able to impart on your body) and it was always done in earnest. She makes it seem so effortless, smooth in her movements and consistent in speed. Many nights you’d receive head from her just like this, but the sight of that jet-black lock of hair bobbing between your legs, the sound of the lewd gurgling and slurping, the feel of that tight seal around your cock that was her lips… None of it ever got old. 

She kept it so fresh, so… Well, not exactly clean.

Your hand finds itself on the top of her head, the familiar motion of pushing down on it each time she bottoms out executed as you always did. Now, it should be noted that Hanni’s a very thorough person. When she cleans, she cleans thoroughly. When she examines, she examines thoroughly. And now, when she sucks dick, she sucks it thoroughly. Her mouth was warm, tight and so very wet. It slicked your shaft with spit, leaving a glistening trail that was repainted and retraced with even more of her saliva, plump pink lips cramming in every bit of cock that she could fit into that hot little mouth, and by god could take you in. 

Like you said—She was so very thorough. 

Her eyes—those dark brown orbs that reflected nothing but lust—stay trained on you, beseeching you to keep your attention on her as she slobbered on your shaft. Her tongue cushions your base, the top of her mouth directing your cock into her throat. She moves deftly, taking you in and out of that mouth with measure, fervent and pace. Hungry is your initial word to describe her, but then it quickly changes to needy, then to fervour. Finally, you settle on Impatient, because that was the best way to describe her style. 

She was always impatient. Her style was never a gradual ramp up in pace, but rather “fast and stay fast”. The word “”slow” didn’t exist in Hanni’s books, nor did the word “patience” (though you personally wished that they would sometimes). Every motion had to be done quickly and swiftly. There was no room for child’s play. Yes, she could tease. Yes, she could take her time if she really wanted to.  But there really was no need for all of that at the moment, not when she’s bobbing her head between your legs with such gusto.

The black locks bob rhythmically between your spread thighs (there’s no cessation to this allegro) as she takes your shaft in and out of the wet, warm cavern of her mouth, her tongue swirling around the sensitive flesh in random patterns, each entry and exit into her lips sending spikes of pleasure from your crotch to the rest of your body. Every so often, a moan would emit from the depths of her throat, sending pleasant vibrations down your shaft and up your spine. You grunted, groaned and sighed; she gurgled, gagged (every now and then) and hummed. The electricity that courses throughout your body is breathtaking. Now you start to think of a word to describe this feeling.

Heaven. Yeah, that was the word to describe it.

You never realise that your eyes closed themselves, but they snap open when your shaft leaves her mouth with a slick, wet pop. For a second, you thought that it was over. Then you realise that you’re far from callow when it comes to dealing with Hanni, and that she’s probably about to escalate things to another level. You’re only proven right when she wipes the spit from the corners of her mouth and rises to her feet. 

As she strips, you start to take back what you said about Hanni being impatient. To be clear, she was impatient a good majority of the time. Now however, she seemed to be in the mood for a little bit of slow play. Her baggy shirt slowly rises, the hem going past her waist, then her belly button—continues painfully slowly till you see the elastic band of the sports bra that she has on. Then with a grin, she slings it off her body. Her pants are next, displacing in the opposite direction as her shirt at the same, painfully slow rate. Bit by bit, layer by layer, her garments slowly come undone. It drove you to the brink of delarity. If it were up to you, you’d have stripped her, got her on her back with her knees against her shoulders and railed her till you both came in a sweaty heap–and she would’ve let you do just that, but you didn’t.

With a very slight sashay in her hips, she saunters over. She straddles you, thighs on either side of you as she settles down. Your cock nestled snugly in the space between those plump asscheeks, the ones that you lightly spank, then lightly squeeze. Now the formalities come back into play; her lips hover over yours for a brief second before they gently drop to meet yours. She kisses you, softly, gently. For a moment (and just that moment), you forget that she was creating a sloppy mess between your legs just mere minutes ago.

Her hand—It snakes through your hair, slides down to your face, cups if for a second. Then the other slithers up your chest, stopping right at the collar before it gently tugs at your shirt—Take it off, she’s telling you. 

Your hand—Lingers on the firm flesh of her asscheeks for just a moment more, then slides over to the hem of your shirt. The other one slips in, hoisting the thin fabric up and over your head. Then they skate up her sweat-slicked, tight body. They travel up in the same direction and slow fashion of her shirt just moments ago: slowly rising, going past her waist, then her belly button–Continues painfully slowly till you reach those soft, ample mounds that sit proudly atop of her chest. 

Then they squeeze.

Her body—It jolts as her breasts are given the attention they long for, a soft sigh leaving her lips. It leans forward ever so slightly, receives kisses from you on the jaw, then the neck. As it flushes against you, she whispers into your ear, “I’ve been waiting for this…”

Your thumb finds the sensitive nub on her opening. “Oh yea?”

“In the dorm…” she trails off for a moment when your thumb begins to rub her clit in small, circular motions, but then she gets back on track, “I always think about riding you till my legs give out.”

You could picture it clearly in your head: Hanni, curled up under her covers in the dorm, her hand between her flushed thighs and another over her mouth as she fingers herself. She moans your name silently, careful not to disturb the others with her raunchy fantasies. 

“What else do you think about?” You’re curious to know more.  

She falls silent for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your thumb entertaining her clit for just a second, then she says, you.

There it is: the shameless confession. For the record, you knew that she’d get naughty with herself while she was away from you, she sent you videos—that you could only view once—of her playing with herself in the bathtub of her dorm before. Sometimes, an exclusive video comes in; her leg would be on the bathroom counter, her phone in her right hand while the left works itself between her legs. Quietly and just for the camera, she’d moan your name, and it turns you the fuck on.

“And what exactly do you think of when you think of me?” you press. 

Another moment of silence. The admissions spew forth: I think about you folding me in half and fucking me. I think about you bending me over the kitchen counter. I think about you pinning me against the wall. I think about—

She would’ve gone on forever if it didn’t shut her up with a kiss. You consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, she imagines all of this while dancing on stage in front of millions of fans, or when she’s in the practice studio learning the steps to the next big hit that they’re about to comeback with. The endless possibilities deluge your mind as you start bringing your kisses down to her jaw, then to her neck.

It's when your lips reach her collar bone that Hanni finally decides to let those hands snake down and grasp on to your cock. It’s when your sigh washes up against her skin that she raises herself up on her knees. She lines you up with her slit, letting you feel the heat of her womanhood as she gently grinds her pussy against the head.

When she sinks down, you feel like blacking out. The tightness, the heat… Fuck, you couldn’t even get started on how wet she is. Your fingers dig into the soft flesh of her small waist, a sharp exhale forced out of your lungs like a bullet; a guttural moan for Hanni. You’re in perdition barely a second after you get inside of her, and she’s sure as hell not giving you time to adjust. 

Then she’s riding you, fast and hard. Her hands grip your shoulders, her head tilted back. She barely gave you time to adjust to the tightness of the flesh around your cock before she’s moaning like her life depends on it. Your name—amongst the expletives and exclamations that tumble out of her mouth—rings clear in your ears, her arms wrapping around the back of your neck, holding you in place like her frenzied movements would make you start moving away. 

Then for the next few minutes, it’s just fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck that punctuates each entrance, the same lips that delivered the sloppiest of blowjobs just minutes prior parting to let such filth fly forth without much of a filter. She crushes those same lips with yours, kissing you vehemently, hungrily. You think for a second about involving some tongue, but that plan quickly goes to waste when her lips tear away from yours to let out another stream of gasps. 

She was so hot, so utterly tight and wet around your cock, her hips and thighs moving with such perfect rhythm that it was quite literally breath stealing. In the sheer intensity of it all, your hands stayed on her hips, but she grasps your left hand and brings it to a needy, bouncing breast, her fingers pulling yours around her tight nipple, closing around it and squeezing it, clutching the needy, wanton flesh and eliciting a sigh from her lips. She brings your other hand to her face, making you cup it in a tender, ginger fashion that heavily juxtaposes the raw sex that was happening in the midst of it. In a way, it was cute, but only a little. 

In the midst of the overwhelming intensity, you find her right breast, catch it mid bounce and send it straight into your mouth. What left Hanni’s mouth was not exactly a moan, but rather a mewl, one that was high-pitched and so erotic that you wished that you were recording this. Moan louder for me, Hanni is what you wish you could tell her while your mouth sucks on her tit, but alas, one mouth can only handle one thing at a time. You settle with the sighs and cries that make her sweaty chest vibrate ever so slightly, content with the way her voice was getting more and more hoarse from moaning by the second. 

She grips you–roughly–on the back of your head, fingernails digging into your skull as she forces your face deeper into her cute little chest. She’s trying desperately, licentiously, to push her mound deeper into your mouth. Then the other hand slinked to your neck, pushing it towards her while she let an even louder cry rip through the air. You ponder on being playful–deliver a small nibble to the flesh that had been impelled into your jaws, or maybe suck on it hard enough to mark it. But when the oh fuck I want to touch myself leaves her mouth, you decide to divert your attention to back to her clit. Your thumb takes its original position, the pad of your finger swirling it in just the right way to make the flesh around you tighten.

When your jaw gets tired, you let the glistening tit pop out of your mouth. “Fuck Hanni,” you decide to quip, “you’re taking this cock so well.”

Her eyes tear away from the ceiling—which she’d been staring at for the past minute or so—to lock on you. Then in a raspy, airy drawl, she replies—This pussy was made to take your cock.

She could be quippy when she wanted to, and she could definitely be overtly lecherous when she desired to. In this case, she’s a combination of both. The slight tinge of haughtiness in her voice tells you: This cock is mine and mine alone, and I’m gonna ride it till I cum. Then there was the generous dash of want in that honey-like voice that says: I love this cock, I love the way it fills me up and stretches me out. It’s gonna make me cum so fucking hard. 

A woman of multitudes is what she is, and sex only brings out a few of her many layers. As she bounces atop of you, taking your cock in and out of her hot, slick pussy while she moans and gasps and sighs, you realise how content you are with seeing this wanton, needy and dominant side of her. And as she starts going down on you harder and faster, you come to realise how hot this whole situation is. 

Cause picture it this way: A cute, bubbly and pretty Hanni, bouncing relentlessly on your rock hard length that’s slicked with her spit and juices, moaning fervently as she rides you like you’re one of her sex toys, her tits bouncing atop her chest and her thighs quivering around you. It was one of those nights that she felt like being in control, one of those nights where she really just wanted to ride out all of her pent up stress and frustration as she cries, I own this fucking cock. You were more than happy to be her outlet. 

“Oh fuck… Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” That’s all she Hanni can manage as she starts going even faster, crashing down on you even harder. Her hands slip off your body, reaching behind her back and grabbing on to her ankles. She’s relying on her knees to hoist herself up now, and counting on your hands to hold her steady while she fucks herself on your cock. You’re relying on your self control to hold you back from cumming at the titillating sight. 

Her body—curves deliciously in this new position, her flat, toned tummy arching towards you and her head tipping back just slightly past her feet. She feels tighter, hotter, (and somehow) wetter around your cock, soft ‘ah’s floating out from that pretty little mouth. She’s playing with you once more, testing the waters to see what it’ll take to drive you feral. “You like my body don’t you? You’re… You’re so fucking turned on by this fucking body, right?”

“God yes.” 

“You wanna fucking ruin it so bad, huh?” She’s looking you dead in the eye. “Wanna get me on my back,” she bends back further, “and shove this thick fucking cock into this tight fuckdoll don’t you?”

You contemplate just hoisting her up into the air and making her ride you while you are standing, picturing the sight of her face dropping and rising in front of your face as the full length of your shaft spears deep into her tight and wet walls. But when… 

“But when” what?

Up till this point, there was always something stopping you from doing as you pleased. Now however, you couldn’t find anything to stop you from succumbing to your desires–and so you do, scooping your hands beneath that plump ass and rising to your feet. 

“H-Hey!” she yelps in surprise as she’s hoisted into the air. She was a lot heavier than she looked

“What’s wrong?” you challenged, adjusting your grip on her small frame to offer her better support. “Can’t own this cock while you’re standing up?”

She recognises the challenge, straightens her back before you. 

“I can own this cock in any position.” Her tone is unwavering, her ass shifting slightly in your grasp as her legs wrap themselves around you. A dark look crosses her face in the form of a bright grin. With the assistance of gravity, she lets herself fall slightly, rock hard meat driving straight up her hot, wet cunt. The wide-eyed, mouth agape complexion of surprise takes her face as she’s filled to the brim. A shrill, breathy cry shoots out from her chest; it’s music to your ears as you start thrusting upwards and into her waiting walls, the same ones that squeeze down harder around you as the head of your cock starts to knock against her cervix. 

Fuck, is all she can manage to get out before she’s throwing herself down onto your cock. She takes you in—down to the hilt, balls deep—hard and fast, not sparing a single second to catch her breath. Her moans are fragmented, split into different tones as she rises and falls on your dick—sometimes passionate and shrill, other times deep and guttural. She’s maximising her output energy for more pleasure, converting that pleasure into energy that powers the sinful rock of her hips each time she takes you in. Then she’s screaming: Oh god, Oh my fucking god, crying: You’re so deep. I can’t fucking take it!, gasping: You’re gonna–I’m gonna–Oh fuck I’m…

But it’s the declaration that really gets you, the one where she screams into your ear: Oh fuck, I’m cumming!

Just like that, Pham Hanni comes undone as she cums. The orgasm that cuts through her body is terrifyingly violent, but oh-so-wonderful to watch as tight, hot flesh spasms around your cock and that pretty little body convulses in your arms. For beautiful seconds, she is utterly overwhelmed by the sensations, until finally she slumps forward in your arms, breathing heavily. You take that moment of vulnerability to get her on her back, spreading her flushed, trembling thighs and pumping into her body once again. She lets you do that—not that she could fight it in her current state—as she wraps her arms back around your neck and whispers, “Be good… Fill me.”

Then nothing else matters for the next few minutes. Only Hanni’s body exists in the long minutes where you fervently pump your shaft between her legs. She looks so good beneath you, her pussy swallowing your cock whole and her tits spilling out through the gaps of your fingers because of how hard you’re holding on to them. Through her soft, horse moans, she eggs you on: Come on baby, give me that nice big load… Cum in me then fuck it deep inside of me. You know you want to. 

Then she pulls you close, breathing on your ear, imploring you, “Please, please, please cum inside your little fuckdoll… I want it so bad.”

And so you do—burying yourself as deep inside her as you can before finally letting the pleasure overwhelm you. Your cock pulsates as it fills with semen before spurting thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside Hanni’s tight, grasping pussy. She lets a soft moan escape her lips with each spurt, as though welcoming it, as though each one were something she long wanted and needed.

After you empty yourself inside her you withdraw your still stiff, cum-slick cock halfway out of her body before thrusting back in, letting your cock stir the load inside her, saturating her walls, making her already drenched and dripping pussy even more of a sloppy mess. She lets little sighs of pleasure and contentment leave her lips as you take your liberties with her hole, relishing the warm wetness of your cum inside her as you take your last few thrusts into her body, pushing the thick load that she’d been waiting for deep into her. 

You only ever stop moving after your arms give out. You crash atop of her, your ragged breaths hardly in sync with hers as you feel the soreness begin to creep up from your feet to your thighs. Softly, gently, she nuzzles herself into the crook of your neck and breathes, thank you.

You raise your head just enough so that your mouth is next to her ear. “Welcome back.”

[vagabond-umlaut]

hey, where is the pomegranate tree?

unstoppable force, aka kore, aka gojo, meets immovable object, aka hades, aka you— nothing can ever go wrong from this collision, trust me— n-o-t-h-i-n-g.

▸ gojo satoru x fem!reader; hades and persephone retelling [with a twist ;))]; 1.2k wc; stubbornly persuasive gojo; the reader is js so tired and annoyed [and tired]; enemies to lovers vibes[??]; talks of marriage and children; gojo thinks you are a fool, he is the real clown here

▸ pls don't glare at me if there is more than one inaccuracy here, haha. anyways, the header is from pinterest, the divider is by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

▸ update: this fic is now part of a series!!! wreaths of asphodel ����😊

"you shall spend the rest of your days in tears."

you're foolish; woefully so, gojo thinks, carefully observing you from his place on the chaise lounge, smiling while you continue seething, "and there will be no one who can save you. neither a hero nor a god. neither demeter nor zeus. no. one."

"but why do you think i will need saving, my rose?" the endearment rolls off his tongue like honey, the taste sweetening at the way your pretty lips dip into a deeper frown, "you're not a monster, are you?"

"no!" the defensive reply comes in less than a beat. though the words following it sound a tad less bold; it seems as if you're trying to make yourself believe and not scare him.

"i'm someone far fiercer— hades. the goddess of the dead. the queen of the underworld— and the cause for your misery should you choose to vex me any further."

"aw, no," gojo cries, decidedly making a show by slapping a hand over his eyes and faking a sniffle, "why must the only woman i want as my wife see me as an annoyance?"

then lets his hand drop down to the cushion, willing his eyes to well over with pitiful moisture. "as the god of life, i've only ever given and given– be it grains or fruits or vegetables or flowers– without asking anything in return— yet the first and only time i ask..."

he doesn't bother finishing his sentence, choosing to sob to add to the tragic atmosphere— though that doesn't mean he doesn't note the war of emotions on your face:

pity, confusion, anger, again confusion— you're so easy to read, to steer. very foolish, really.

"you'll not like living here," you eventually break the silence hanging within the room. your voice is much softer now; the god wonders if you sing. if you do, the muses will certainly be put to shame... "your days will be spent in utter boredom and gloom and tears–"

"– and no one can come to my aid then: yes, thank you," he interrupts you, more than a little tired, "you've driven the points too well into my head– so much so that i'm surprised there isn't a gaping hole in there, oozing blood and my brains. but why must you think i'll need rescue, huh??"

if a smidge of force escapes into his words, gojo decides not to pay it any mind— though only until he notices the small flinch you give– his insides twist and torment, quite inexplicably, thereafter.

"okay, look," he says, getting up from his slouch to move near you, but stops on catching the warning glint in your eyes.

"first of all, i'm not some damsel in distress being whisked away in a chariot here– i came here by own volition. and i'm offering my mind, body, heart, soul– the special package that i am, in fewer words– to you, by my own volition. why shall i want anyone to rescue me then?"

"besides," he proceeds to add, allowing an easy smirk to form on his face, "you're just the cute little goddess of the dead– not at all scary like your brother used to be; though i guess you try to imitate him in your glares, don't you? sukuna was quite notori—"

"don't you dare utter my brother's name, foul olympian," a quiet growl slashes gojo's comment, sending it plummetting to the ground— and making him understand why you, the inconspicuous, sheltered sister of the vicious former holder of the name 'hades', was given the crown, in the aftermath of your brother's banishment– instead of the several more well-known candidates...

"i apologise," gojo offers in the very next instant, making it as genuine as he can, "i never meant to upset or offend you. i'm sorry if i did."

you just stare at him for a beat, gojo watches, before your shoulders lift then fall in a sigh. the fire burning in your aura abates by a pinch.

sighing once more, you finally break your silence, "It's okay, and um– suppose i too should apologise. you might be an olympian but you're not as foul as them, no. please forgive me for calling you so."

"no problem, my rose," the god is quick to accept your words with a wave of his hand and a beam, further widening when he notices the sliver of smile on your countenance, "but does this mean i appeal to your tastes? i mean, you called me 'not as foul as them', didn't you?? did you just accept my hand in marriage, then???"

"no, i didn't..." your subtle smile disappears swifter than it appeared. a half of gojo's floral crown, quite inexplicably, wilts on the table before. he watches your eyes fall to it, then snap up to meet his.

"do you love me?"

not yet, but he thinks he can. you might be an idiot but you certainly aren't an unlovable idiot— and one voice in his mind murmurs, those precious, innocent looks of yours aren't even the main reasons why...

the god shoots back a languid smile. "if you want to see me in love with you, so be it."

"that's neither 'yes' nor 'no'," you point out, frowning, before vaulting your second query of the evening, "if we get married, do you want to have children?"

it won't be very unfavourable, if you both do... with the vivid colour of your eyes, or the adorable shape of your nose, or the radiance of your skin, or the— "if you want, i shall be happy to assist," he ekes out with a meaningful wink, albeit he doubts how much of it reaches you.

you're very foolish, after all... and no– it's not because of the awkward way he says it– no! not in the slightest! he wasn't fumbling at all!

you wrap the shawl tighter around your shoulders but don't move any further away, gojo notes. the same way he does the slight tint in your cheeks when you roll your eyes with a scoff.

"you're unbelievable, kore. truly, terribly unbelievable." you press the pads of your thumbs over your forehead before releasing it, gaze an unprecedented mark of sharp when it settles on his face.

"is there nothing you want from our union, eh? i refuse to believe you wish to marry me without any demands, as if on a mere whim– but if it is so, i ought to warn you, kore: my answer is and will always be one firm 'no'."

your words mustn't ignite this odd restlessness in him. they certainly mustn't— still, gojo finds his chest tight and the air heavy as he grins back and says, "i only want to be your husband, your majesty... but if that is too much for you right now–"

the stretch on his lips simmers down to something smaller. yet truer.

"i want you to call me by my name. my real name. can you do that, my rose?"

you don't say anything in response for a long while. so long, in fact, it makes the god wonder if you are ever going to reply to his request.

perhaps not, he thinks quite a bit down-spirited when you suddenly turn on your heel and with a swish of your long shawl, stride out the rooms– o-oh.

you stop just as abruptly at the threshold. a complicated grin shining on your face as you twist to look at him over your shoulder then say:

"good night, gojo satoru. pray the ghosts prowling these halls don't eat you up ere dawn."

you're gone not even few feet away from the door, before gojo falls face-first into the bed, the entire room suddenly erupting into thousands of roses in all colors ever seen. [lolol, he is such a loser for you! xD]

▸ masterlist

[charliemwrites]

Part 10! of SpecGru reader. This is a little short, but I was so excited to post because NOVA.

Content: safe/sane/consensual sex - oral, female receiving

Nova is your partner for the day – running drills as guest instructors for recruits, working them so hard they don’t have enough air to make any stupid, sexist remarks. The two of you spend all day flirting like a new lovesick couple, your hand drifting low on her back while she teases you with double entendres. Press her up against the wall outside the dining hall after lunch, licking the taste of apple off her lips while she tangles clever fingers in your hair.

Don’t care about who might be watching, or who cares. Not like your captain does. The opposite really, as he sidles up behind you while you’re spotting Nova in the gym. He slaps your ass so hard it damn near echoes, smirking at your scandalized face while she quickly reracks so that she can laugh.

“How are my girls doin’ today?” he chuckles.

“Right as rain, cap,” Nova answers, beaming when he cups her cheek.

“Can’t be anything but good with our star girl around,” you reply, winking at her. Bark a laugh when she smacks you in the thigh.

“Yeah?” he asks, a note of sincerity in his voice now. “Those shitheads leavin’ you alone?”

You blink, realize that there has been a distinct lack of 141 overtures today. No wonder you’re in such a good mood. An orgasm in the morning, your pretty, hyper-competent girlfriend all day, and no shitty former teammates? That’s practically a vacation lately.

“Do I have you to thank for that, sir?” you ask. Remember him saying something about talking to Price yesterday.

“You can thank me later,” he answers with a little smirk.

“Gladly, sir.” He’s getting more than that at this rate.

“Just wanted to check in on you two,” he continues, tweaking your nose, “and there’s an intel brief at 1600.”

“Yessir,” you and Nova reply together.

He chuckles again, gives you both one last fond look, then takes his leave.

“Finish up in here, shower, and get there a bit early?” Nova suggests.

You turn back to her, wipe a bit of sweat off her forehead with your forearm. She huffs in (only half fake) disgust and lays back on the bench again. She’s still got half a set to finish.

“Yeah, I want to steal Price’s usual seat,” you answer.

“You petty little tart,” she chuckles.

You lean your elbows on the bar and lean over her, arching your eyebrows playfully. “I’m your petty little tart.”

“Have always had a sweet tooth,” she muses.

You laugh and get off the bar so that she can continue. Of course, you’re keeping a close eye on her – but lord, she’s distracting. Thick thighs and solid abdomen, her tank-top is even sticking to the flexing muscles. And her arms. You’re not even being subtle, drinking in each deliberate rise and fall of the metal bar. Following droplets of sweat down her biceps…

“You mind?” she huffs, though not without amusement.

You jolt a bit, flushing as you help her rerack again. She sits up, a mischievous curl to her full lips.

“What’s got into you, huh?” she asks, tilting her head.

You shrug as you switch places, trip up a bit when you realize just how nice the view is. Even thoroughly sweaty, she smells a bit like coconut. Damn.

“Not you, unfortunately,” you reply absently.

She chuckles, tapping a finger against your forehead. “Tell ya what, love – you do five extra reps and we can make that happen.”

You’ve never flown through a workout so fast.

--

You damn near stumble into the shower stall, lips and tongue tangled with Nova’s. The flimsy curtain flutters haphazardly behind her as you reach blindly for the knob. Ice cold water drenches your back, but it does nothing to cool the desire blazing in your gut. Not when she’s peeling herself out of her compression pants, shimmying out of her damp shirt, and wriggling out of her sports bra.

Don’t even care about your own clothes, dropping to your knees in awe. She’s absolutely gorgeous, your girl. Pretty brown skin interrupted by pale patches like scattered clouds, meeting of earth and sky right there in front of you. Something divine about that, you think vaguely. She certainly looks the part, all strength and confidence, dark eyes smoldering like coals. Interrupted only by slashes of scar tissue and the SpecGru tattoo on her forearm.

You’ll never get tired of looking at her.

“C’mere, love,” you murmur, hooking your fingers behind her thigh and gently urging her closer.

She laughs a bit, though there’s a breathless edge to it that makes you perk up like a dog.

“You’re still dressed, daft thing.”

You shake your head. “That can wait.”

Despite your deal in the gym, there’s nothing you want more right now than to take care of her. Just leave her a shaky, whimpering mess, until your shirt is wet with her rather than water or sweat.

“Let me take care of you, baby?” you breathe, hands skimming up her soft thighs. You caress your thumb over her labia, licking your lips at the stickiness already gathered there. “Please, Nila.”

She shudders hard. You groan softly, trailing kisses over the bundle of tissue protecting her lower tummy. Can feel her twitching a bit from the ticklish sensation of your hair brushing her ribs.

“Y-your sure?” she asks. “I haven’t washed off yet…”

“Don’ care,” you mumble, scraping your teeth over the sharp cut of her hip. Tease eager fingertips over her leaking slit, playing in the trim curls. “I gotta taste you. Stay hydrated ‘n all that.”

She tries to scoff, but it’s overtaken by a wobbly moan when you suck a modest mark into her inner thigh. Keegan’s going to pout when he sees it; that’s his favorite spot to claim on all of you.

“Yeah, babes,” she gasps, “g-go ahead.”

It’s probably pathetic, how quickly you faceplant into her pussy. Can’t bring yourself to care when the taste of her bursts across your desperate tongue. A bit of salt, but all her, earthy. You lap at her with the flat of your tongue, starting at her dripping entrance and working slowly up until you curl the tip over her slippery, swollen clit. Again and again. Until all your thoughts whittle down to this, to her. To the helpless clench of her empty cunt and the involuntary buck of her hips. Nothing to calm your thoughts like taking care of your angel.

“Fuck, baby,” she moans, blunt nails scraping over your scalp.

Your eyes roll back as shivers chase down your spine, moaning into her cunt just to return the effect. Love how her head tips back, knees quaking. You scoot in a bit closer, hook her knee over your shoulder to offer some stability. Then focus your attention on that button of nerves, sucking it gently into your hot mouth.

“F-fingers,” she whimpers, “fingers too, love. Please.”

As if you could deny her anything ever. Circle worshipful fingers around her entrance, groaning lustfully when slick begins dripping down your wrist. God, she always gets to fucking wet. When she tilts her hips with a needy whine, you test one finger inside her, rubbing gently against her walls. But she keens, clearly wants more, so you stuff a second finger inside her, curling them as you flick your tongue over her clit.

“Fuck!” she cries. “Yeah, just like that. J-Just there, babe.”

And you’re useless to do anything but acquiesce, setting a steady rhythm that leaves her squirming on your mouth and hands. Feel like you could get off on the noises she’s making alone, your own pussy drenched and aching. But you can’t be bothered to spare a single thought or movement for yourself, hands and mind too full of Nila.

Your dedication is quickly rewarded by the telltale squeezing of her pussy, the increasing pitch and volume to her voice. Don’t dare change a single thing, as desperate for her to cum as she is. Could live forever between her thighs, just like this, listening to that voice break for you.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m… c-cum – fuck!”

You moan as she drenches your chin and neck, quick to support her weak legs so that she can ride out each and every wave of her ecstasy. Suckle at her sensitive clit and circle your fingers around her spongy g-spot until she’s shuddering, gently tugging at your hair. You pull away reluctantly; don’t want to overstimulate her (when she doesn’t want it) but pussy-drunk all the same.

Give her a second to catch her breath, dotting kisses like stars around your pretty Nova.

“That was perfect,” she coos, “come up here for a kiss? I miss you.”

You make sure she’s steady before standing, smiling, stupidly charmed. “I’m right here, sweetheart, nothing to miss.”

“Miss you anytime I’m not kissin’ you,” she replies dreamily, looping her arms around your neck.

You pepper kisses along her jaw until you reach her puffy, bitten lips. Tuts softly at their swollen state before she thoroughly distracts you by licking the taste of herself from your mouth.

“Spoil me,” she sighs against your lips.

“Not spoiling if you deserve it,” you reply, hugging her close.

She giggles brightly, tucking her face against your flushed neck. Stay like that for a moment, gently swaying. Then she nips gently at your collarbone.

“C’mon, let’s get you out of those clothes.”

First | Previous | Introducing...

Masterlist

[ppumeonae-bigvibe]

temporary craving

↖ navigation: ateez masterlist || main masterlist 

pairing: bf! hongjoong x gn! reader

↬ tags: established relationship!, saw this somewhere on socials and i for some reason thought of hongjoong pookie bear <3, anyways this is entirely self-indulgent i love men who care so deeply for their partners

summary: you want it? he'll get it

word count: 397 words

it was a lazy saturday afternoon at home: the 4pm heat mildly stiffling but still bearable with the gentle breeze from the ceiling fan.

both you and hongjoong were idly resting on the bed while scrolling through social media in comfortable silence: a typical lazy saturday afternoon for the two of you.

you were curled beside hongjoong, his arm draped over your shoulder and fingers drawing patterns up and down whatever exposed skin he could reach. he had the speakers on, a low melody filling in the room as background noise.

not much was spoken, save for the occasional "look at this" and muffled laughter from the two of you. he catches you dazing ever-so-often and affectionately pats the top of your head. you stretch in his embrace, a loud yawn escaping you. hongjoong cranes his neck to press a kiss to your forehead, "done scrolling?"

"mmm no, i'm kinda craving some ice cream. it's warm today." you hummed, absentmindedly reaching up to play with his fingers. hongjoong immediately gets up, and you pout at the sudden movement, no longer in the comfortable position you were in.

"where are you going?"

"to get ice cream from the convenience store downstairs?" he didn't even wait for your reply, gently peeling your arms off his torso. "joong, i was just saying it...didn't mean it..." your confused face made him smile nevertheless, "if you want it, i'll get it. it's that easy, hmm?"

he leans over the side of the bed to give you a kiss, "i'll be back." you grabbed onto his arm, "then let me go with you." he looks at you: despite your determined gaze, your body posture said otherwise. limbs all tangled up in the comforter and hair mused from your tossing and turning—he'd rather you stay comfy in bed.

"it's okay baby. i'll be quick!" he swiftly grabs his keys and his phone, and hongjoong leaves the room. the jingle jangle of the keys was the last thing you heard before silence consumes the room.

you dramatically slapped a hand over your mouth (a/n: i channeled ryu sunjae for this one), gasping at how his gesture literally melted your heart through and through. giggling like a lovesick fool, you beamed at the very thought of him.

damn were you lucky to have hongjoong as your boyfriend.

@ppumeonae-bigvibe 's work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

[helaelaemond]

Little Games That We Play - Billy Washington x reader

Pairing:  Billy Washington x semi-girlfriend!reader (?)

Word count: 2k

Summary: you pick Billy up from the police station after he's smashed up a butchers' shop. You're sick of him, but not so sick you can say no to getting fucked.

AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, established relationship, penetrative sex, clothed sex.

Content warning(s): rough sex, mentions of Islamophobia, very brief domestic violence (reader slaps Billy)

Rating: E

For Ez, one of my beloved muses.

You march out of the police station with anger in you.

"Sunglasses?" Billy asks as he strides to keep up with you.

You pull them from your bag and shove them to his chest. "A halal butchers?" you ask, your voice full of disgust. He doesn't answer you as you make your way quickly down the stairs and to your banged up old Corsa. Not as sorry as his Cavalier, but nothing to be especially proud of.

"Thanks for coming to get me."

You can't even stomach looking at him. When you're both in the car, you open the windows and screech out of the car park and into the road, barely making it to third by the time you hit thirty.

"Aye, ease up," he tells you in a strained tone.

"You reek," is the only reply you can muster.

The rest of the drive is in silence. On the steering wheel, your knuckles are white. It takes twenty minutes with traffic to get home, and you're too angry to park neatly - half your wheel is on the pavement, and you'll probably get a ticket, but fuck it. Billy can pay for it - when he finally gets a job. The thought makes you snort, and he looks over at you.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"You ain't even got that to your name."

When he laughs in reply, it's dry, humourless. A cheap shot, you know, but Jesus. You're so angry you could push him into traffic, you really could-!

After a long pause, Billy speaks. "I int got my keys."

Silence is the answer you give him. He follows you across the road and up into the flat that you share. It's cluttered and messy and dirty, and you've been spending more and more time back at your mum's place than here lately. It's been a while since it felt like home.

On the stovetop, dirty pans wait to be washed. There's a half-finished Pot Noodle next to it, and a dish of used teabags. This isn't how you saw your life turning out. "Didn't have five minutes to clean up?"

He pours boiling water into two mugs and stirs them both without looking up. He's still wearing those sunglasses. "Didn't know when you'd be home. Didn't see the point."

"You don't help yourself, you know?"

He winces at your raised voice. "Save it, will you? My head's killing me."

"How many did you have last night?" you press. He hands you the cup of tea and you take it without thinking.

"A few."

"How many's a few?"

"I dunno. It was a wake, for fuck's sake, I wasn't counting."

"Yeah? Well, maybe you should've. A butchers', Billy, a fucking butchers'?"

Billy shrugs slightly. His chin is tilted down. Without taking a sip, you set your mug on the dirty counter and grab him by the front of his black shirt.

"What are you playing at?" you hiss.

His lip curls and he turns his face away. "Leave it."

"No! You're throwing your life away, and dragging other people down with it!"

"No one cares enough to be dragged down with me."

You slap him, hard. Across his sharp cheek your hand comes, and it knocks those stupid Aviators right off his nose. "No one cares enough? Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?"

Sometimes, Billy is as meek as anything, and he takes the nasty things people say with shining eyes and tight lips. But other times, he comes to the edge of losing control. There is no shine in his eyes now - just the glisten of something dangerous. A thrill goes through you. He catches your wrist and squeezes until it hurts. "The girl who promised she'd never leave. But you're leaving me, aren't you? You're giving up, just like everyone else."

"What do you expect me to do?" you challenge. There are butterflies in your stomach when he pulls you closer, but you fight it. He's stronger than you, though. "Sit around and watch you waste the best years of my life? Watch you drain my bank account?"

"You promised."

"Look at the state of you." Your voice is low, angry. "Dirty clothes. Dirty face. Dirty fucking life."

His lip twitches, but he makes no reply. At least not with his words. One hand winds suddenly into your hair, fingers gripping hard at the root, and he pulls until your neck is arched, and your hands grab desperately for his arms. He doesn't go to the gym anymore, but his biceps are tensed and you hate how much you love the strain in the muscles.

"You're not a man," you hiss. "You need to grow up."

The hate in his heart has put distance between you. But the fire in his eyes is nothing but passion and love for you, you know. It's not enough for you anymore.

It still makes your pussy wet.

And when he shoves you against the messy counter, stomach first, you know what's coming. "Then why are you still here?" he mutters against your ear.

With his half-hard cock grinding in his filthy joggers against your backside, it's difficult to keep your mind on words, let alone an answer to such a complex question. Because you love him. Because you're filled with hope. Because you promised to stay.

You think of how ashamed he sounded on the phone this morning when he asked you to pick him up. You had been the one that he wanted when everything had gone to shit - when he had ruined everything. It was still you. "Because you called."

It comes out more tenderly than you intended. He grunts, and his hips stutter. "You fucking love me. Don't you?"

Gripping onto the countertop, you suppress a shiver and shake your head slightly. "No."

"Yeah, you do." Behind you, Billy shoves up your dress and presses his hand between your thighs. His long fingers rub over your underwear, and with his soft breaths at your ear, he slips them underneath. Between your folds he dips, and he groans to find you hot, the beginning of slickness pooling at your entrance. "Oh, yeah, that's what I thought."

"You don't deserve me," comes your defiant reply. It's punctuated by stiff breaths that give you away, though.

He smells unwashed, and stale beer clings to him like dust. It wraps you up in a haze of devotion and disgust. When he pushes his joggers down, you think of where they've been. He was wearing them when he carried out a hate crime, and when he was picked up by police sitting on the filthy pavement. In the police car and then the cells he wore them, and there are stains on them that you dread to think the origin of.

"Bend over," he tells you.

"No."

He growls against your ear. "Bend over."

"Make me."

And he does. With a hard hand on the back of your neck, he forces you to bend over where you stand. Before you have a moment to think, the blunt head of his cock nudges between your spread thighs, and he sinks into you like he owns you.

"Don't pretend you're too good for me," Billy mutters once he's deep inside you, his groin pressed against your backside. "That's not a fun game."

Your head rests on the counter, eyes closed. In front of you is the dish of teabags. It smells strangely comforting. "This isn't a game."

"Yeah, it is." He slams back and forth into you, once, twice, thrice, and then he pauses. "You love these little games that we play."

You hiss very quietly. "Get on with it."

"Oh?" There's a smirk in his voice now. Smug cunt.

"Just- just do it."

"Do you need it?" he asks. His pace begins smooth and slow. He knows what he's doing.

"Billy," you say through gritted teeth.

"What?"

You are going to have to swallow your pride. At least for a moment. Hopefully it'll be worth it. "Fuck me properly or not at all."

"You want it hard?"

Shit. He knows exactly what he's doing. You hate him for it. "Yes."

"Say it."

"No."

The hand on the back of your neck squeezes in a silent threat. His voice turns cold. It makes your blood run hot. "Say it."

"Fuck you!"

Billy scrapes his nails over your scalp before grasping your hair again and yanking you up slightly. He hisses against your ear. "Say it for me. Or I'll stop."

In a moment of quiet, you consider him. You could walk away now with your dignity. But, God, you feel so empty without him. And now he's inside you and you shift your hips slightly and even that tiny stimulation makes your eyes roll. "Oh, God. F-fuck. Fuck me. Hard."

And he does.

He fucking does.

The noise of your coupling in the little kitchen is obscene. Your skin slaps together as the slickness between your bodies echoes, barely covered by Billy's groans and your laboured breaths. His cock fills you perfectly, pounding into you again and again like you're unbreakable. He fucks you like you belong to him.

It makes your thighs tremble. He doesn't have the decency to touch you anywhere else this time. Sometimes, he spends hours worshipping your whole body, kissing and caressing your skin until you feel like a shrine of his love, godly and devotional. But here, now... he fucks you like he doesn't love you. But like he needs you.

"Fuck!" Billy bites your ear before licking around it. "You gonna keep your mouth shut next time?"

"No," you whine. "You're a piece of shit."

He slides his hand from the back of your neck to your throat, and pulls you up slightly. It makes your hips tilt and back arch, and the new angle makes your knees weak.

"I think you will." Words are punctuated by hard thrusts that feel so good they almost hurt. "Gonna make me come."

"Hand," you tell him. With one still around your throat, the other goes between your legs and his fingers rub a brutal rhythm over your clit. He presses your hot flesh hard and fast until you go weak in his arms. He holds you upright like it's nothing. Like you're nothing.

"Fuck, fuck-!"

"Billy, yes, yes, don't stop, don't-!"

He groans your name. "Fuck, fuck, gonna make me come, I'm-! Yes, oh, God yes, yes, yes-!"

Your orgasm crashes over you at the sound of him reaching his peak, and your knees give way. He holds you tight and strains up on his toes to bury himself as deep as he can, spilling inside you with a gutteral cry. Pleasure erupts from between your legs through your whole body, crashing over you in waves. The hand against your cunt holds you firm, giving you something to keep focus on as aftershocks make you twitch.

"I've got you," he mutters after his moans have subsided. You lean back in his arms, utterly spent. There are no thoughts left in your mind. Floating. You're just floating.

But what goes up, must come down.

"Let go," you mumble.

"Hmm?" His lips are at your neck, soft kisses making your skin tingle.

You push him away. It makes you wince when his cock slips, half hard, out of you. He made your underwear chafe against your thigh when he pushed it aside, you realise now. "Get off."

Billy hangs his head. Hastily, he pulls up his joggers and grabs his mug from the side. You notice the cuts on his knuckles have opened up again. Whatever. That's his own fault.

"Stay."

You look up at him. He avoids your gaze. "Billy..."

"Just... stay."

"Don't ask me that after... after that. You know I..."

"You what?" he asks. And then he looks at you with shining eyes.

"I can't say no to you like this. You... you know that."

He nods. "Yeah. That's why I did it."

It should make you hate him. It's bad enough that he did it, let alone admit it - he fucks you like this to keep you tied to him. But you don't hate him. Instead of leaving, you take your tea and follow him to the couch. Together, you sit down, and drink in silence. You'll stay. Come what may.

[bunnliix]

The Invisible Strings that Bind Us - Chapter Two

Chapter Two! We have some good cute fluff because it's gonna start getting angsty after this chapter, so prepare for that. But for now, we have some wholesome interactions between y/n and the boys. For anyone that saw this posted before, no you didn't.

a.k.a., I may have had to make a couple changes to it after it went live that I forgot about haha

Masterlist

word count: 1.8k

warnings: food, canon skz chaos, I think that's it

Y/n woke up slowly, feeling a bit disoriented. She felt whatever was beneath her shifting, before she heard an Aussie accent. 

“Good morning sunshine.” She heard, opening her eyes to see Chan looking down at her.

“Huh? What the fuck? That wasn’t a dream?” She mused out loud, forgetting that she wasn’t thinking about it. She heard laughter coming from across the room, finding Changbin and Han bent over laughing.

“This isn’t a dream, we promise you. Now, do you wanna sit up?” Chan asked her, to which she nodded. With his help, she sat up and moved to sit against the back of the couch. 

“You can stop laughing at me, god dammit. It wasn’t that funny.” She lightly glared at the two men. It really wasn’t that funny, honestly, she was ready to slap them. If only they were in reach of her.

“Guys, chill out, please.” Chan scolds the two members, raising an eyebrow at them. The boys apologized to Y/n, bowing and saying sorry to her. She waved away their apologies, telling them it was fine. She really didn’t mind, but it’s still not fun to get laughed at.

“So, where do we go from here?” Y/n spoke up, wondering what would happen now. It may not have been the ideal soulmate meeting, but obviously fate didn’t care about that. There may not have been a big outward sign that they were, but she had never felt more at ease with anyone else ever. Even prior girlfriends she had, that she almost thought were her soulmates, never made her feel this right as these eight boys were right now.

“Well, seeing as you landed right in our laps, and also Binnie has our initials plus one more set, and once we match yours up with the last initial, I’d say you’re our soulmate. We can figure everything else out from there.” Chan said, taking charge of the situation. 

Y/n told them all her full name, and her initials matched up with the last set on Binnie’s arm. This prompted Felix to come over and hug her, whispering in her ear how much he’s glad to have found their last soulmate. He laid his head on her shoulder, his arms still wrapped around her, not letting go of her now that she’s here.

All of the boys’ phones went off, pushing them to check and see who’s messaging. Hyunjin groaned, “Ugh, we have to head back to dance practice, they’re looking for us.” He told the rest of them. This prompted many complaints and cries, the boys not wanting to leave their newest soulmate yet. 

“How long do you have to practice? I can just stay here, honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. I have my phone and I can entertain myself till you all return.” Y/n said, smiling up at them. She didn’t mind being by herself for a little while, it would give her some time to process everything that’s happened.

“If we’re lucky, an hour? Depends on how much of a hardass Minho-hyung is today.” Hyunjin replied to her, not managing to dodge the slap from the aforementioned person. He rubbed his shoulder, feeling the pain from the hit.

“Yah! I don’t want to be away from our soulmate either, but keep it up like that and I’ll make you practice for hours.” Minho snapped back at Hyunjin, looking annoyed.

“Okay, let’s chill out, okay? No need to get violent.” Chan tried to pacify the situation, and thankfully it worked

The boys begrudgingly packed up, Minho leaning in close to Hyunjin as they left, telling him that he’d make a nice snack after 20 minutes in the airfryer at 180 degrees. Y/n laughed as she watched them leave, before moving to sit against the armrest, getting comfortable. She decided to think about her situation later, and grabbed her phone, opening up tiktok and scrolling the time away.

An hour later…

Y/n hadn’t realized how much time had passed, and when the door to the studio opened, she jumped and threw her phone up into the air, as she panicked. She however, managed to not fall off the couch, but her heart was running a thousand miles a minute as she tried to calm down. She held onto her chest, looking at the door to see the entirety of the group standing in the doorway, a couple of them trying to hold back their laughter, as others looked concerned. 

“Could give a girl a bit of a heads up, yeah?” She said to them, a bit over the panic.

“We didn’t think you’d be that absorbed into whatever you were doing, honestly.” Chan replied to her, moving to grab her phone from where it had been thrown, and bringing it over to her. 

She sat up, letting Chan sit down next to her. “That’s fair. I didn’t realize an hour had passed, to tell you the truth. But that’s because I’m bad at telling how much time has passed.” She explained. She truly had very little concept of time. She could look at the clock and five hours had passed when it only felt like it had maybe been an hour. It was one of her greatest weaknesses.

“Don’t worry, some of them get like that too.” Felix piped up, moving closer and sitting on the arm of the couch. “Chan especially, the man works and zones out while doing so.” He continued.

“Yeah, and the rest of 3racha are the same way.” Hyunjin pointed out, to which Han hit his arm. 

“Yah, we’re not that bad!” He shouted, pouting afterwards. His little quokka cheeks made an appearance as he did that.

“I don’t think I believe that.” Y/n told Han. 

He continued pouting, even his newest soulmate was being so mean. He couldn’t believe it, and there were giggles from his other soulmates, showing that they were on her side, not his.

“Well now that you’re all back, and I assume free from idol duties for a little while, I’d like to talk about where we go from here, now that we’ve confirmed I’m your last soulmate.” Y/n spoke up, trying to steer the conversation in another direction.

“Well, I think the first thing to discuss is how prepared you are to be the soulmate of eight other people, who I assume live very far away from where you are from?” Felix asked her.

“Well, considering that I’m from Canada, that’s not horribly far, but still a bit farther than I think is reasonable. So I think I’d be moving here, and not the other way round.” She told them, starting to think about the logistics of moving here.

“Ah, yeah. You’d have to move here, but we can help you with every step you need to take. We wouldn’t leave you to do it all alone.” Chan turned to look at her. “We’d have to move into a bigger place too, unless you’d want your own space?” He continued.

“I wouldn’t mind either option, really.”

“Okay, that’s fine, we can sit down with management and get that figured out. They can also help us look for a place for you as well, just as an option.” Chan said.

Y/n nodded, fine with that. She wasn’t picky, it really wasn’t a big deal to her where she’d be living. She’d just be happy to be near her soulmates, honestly.

Everyone went silent as Y/n’s stomach grumbled, the girl herself curling in on herself to try and hide. 

“And maybe now is a good time for food.” Felix said.

“I’m hungry!” Changbin shouted, making a couple of the boys chuckle.

Chan stood up, holding a hand out to Y/n, who took it as she stood up as well. He pulled her along as they followed the rest of the boys towards the JYPE cafeteria, as it was the easiest place to get actual food. It thankfully wasn’t that packed when they arrived, and the boys quickly picked out their food, while Chan helped her decide on what she wanted. She went for some tteokbokki, and the other boys decided that they didn’t mind sharing bites of what they chose, so that nothing was wasted if she didn’t like it

Y/n tried bites of everyone’s food, and enjoyed most of it, with a couple exceptions. Despite that, everyone enjoyed their lunch, and after everyone finished and cleaned up the table, they all headed back up to their practice room, deciding it was a better place to talk than squeezing into the studio.

“So, obviously we have to tell management about this, and also figure out how long you can stay here before heading back to pack up your stuff.” Minho spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, and I have to talk to my university and try and get that figured out as well. I’m almost finished with my degree, so I’d like to actually finish it off fully.” Y/n told them.

Wows came from a couple of the younger boys, and Y/n blushed a bit. 

“What do you study?” Seungmin asked her.

“History is my major in university.” She told them, proceeding to tell them some of the subjects she’s studied within history. She talked more about her favorite periods or topics to study, after the boys asked some questions about what in history she enjoyed and why she decided to study it as a degree.

The group continued talking about their own hobbies and other things they’d like to do in life, as Chan moved to check his and the others schedules, as well as notifying management that they needed to have a meeting. He found their schedules to have been cleared for the day, after he got a response from management that they could have the meeting in 30 minutes. 

“Well, good news and maybe good news?” Chan piped up, everyone else going silent, waiting to hear the news. “So, we now have a free schedule for the remainder of the day, but we also have a meeting with management in 30 minutes.” He finished. 

A round of groans commenced at Chan’s announcement, as the boys dreaded the meeting with the managers. Y/n looked around in confusion, wondering why they were reacting this way. 

“What’s so bad about the meeting?” She asked, tilting her head slightly in confusion.

“They’re not fans of the bureaucracy of being an idol, so they dread meetings with our managers and team.” Chan explained, rolling his eyes at the boys’ antics.

“Ohhh.” She understood now, it made sense that the whole bureaucracy of being an idol would be boring. She herself didn’t enjoy those things either, let alone how much of this administrative stuff goes on in the background of idol agencies.

The boys decided to go change into something a little less casual for their meeting, and thankfully, the boys had something that she could fit into. It wasn’t much, but it fit and didn’t look horrible on her, so that was what counted. They just joked around and the boys fought playfully until about five minutes till the meeting, when they all headed up to where the meeting was to take place, where they arrived just in time. Chan did a head count, before he pushed and held the door open for all of us to enter.

Prev | Next

Taglist: @queen-thiccness

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

what if peaches (unexpected) had already been pregnant from colin by the time lloyd met her?

Unkind

Note: this got out of hand.

Warnings: Lloyd being a jerk yet again, mentions of cheating, pregnancy, bodyshaming.

Please provide thoughts and feedback! I had fun doing this and hope to do some more in response to your guys' asks! Thank you for all your support. 💜

You stare through the glass, so clean and clear, it’s as if it’s even there. You wistfully admire the fine leather and silver, the gleaming watch faces with their ticking slender arms. Sparkling, shining, expensive. Too expensive for you.

That would be most things these days. With a baby on the way. You can’t afford luxuries. You can’t even save up and surprise Colin. That one. The silver and blue. That’s the one you would get him, if only.

Your vision shifts and you see your reflection across from you. Your bloated cheeks, your tired eyes, the tiny bump peeking out from your unzipped jacket. No, you’re not here to buy a gift for your husband, just to exchange his new shoes for the right size.

A shadow darkens through the window of the jewelry shop and your sight pinpoints on the man inside. He looks up from the watches with a smirk. Slicked hair, a rather bold choice of facial hair, and bold blue eyes. They fall down to your stomach as the muscles in his cheeks tense. He gives half a smirk.

You frown and back away. Strange. You wouldn’t call it a look, more a leer. You feel your phone buzzing and reach into your pocket. You fish out your phone as you waddle away. You’re not that pregnant, not yet, but there’s no hiding it now.

You answer and suppress a groan. Your back is killing you. It doesn’t get better, just less or more agonizing. 

“Hey,” Colin meets your blunt greeting, “so sorry, babe, I’m caught up at the office today. Looks like another late night.”

“Really?” You sigh in disappointment, “I was hoping… I was going to cook you dinner before I went to work.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he insists, “really. You should try to relax.”

“You’re right, I guess,” you find one of the long pleather sofas they have along the wide walkways of the mall and sit. The stiff cushions aren’t meant for comfort. “I just gotta exchange your shoes,” you set the bag beside you and reach to rub your lower back, “and uh, go home, I guess. I’ll leave dinner in the oven.”

“Ah, don’t worry about me. I’ll probably just order in here.”

You nod as you teeth your lip anxiously. A figure sits further down the sofa and you do your best to ignore it.

“Uh, yeah, alright,” you mutter, “love ya.”

“You too, babe,” he replies. 

The call ends. You look at your phone glumly before tucking it away. You go to grab the back but it crinkles as the stranger beside you pulls it open to peek inside. You turn to sneer at him and snatch it up by the handles.

“Hey,” you snip.

“Nice shoes. Bit big for a newborn,” he muses. It’s the same man, from the shop window.

You shake your head and slide to the edge, standing with some effort and a grunt. You don’t need to engage with this weirdo.

“You’re out here buying the baby daddy new shoes while he’s stuck at the office fucking his secretary, huh?”

You scoff and roll your eyes, “excuse me?”

“Ah,” he slaps his thighs before he stands, “I read somewhere that the most likely time for a husband to cheat is during the pregnancy. You see, you got all these changes going on. You get moody, you get whiny, and your ass gets fat.” He leans to the side and eyes your butt, “fatter.”

You wrinkle your nose in disgust and try to sidestep him. What a fucking creep. You didn’t ask and you don’t want to hear it.

“I say you take those shoes back and treat yourself to something nice down at the jeweler. I’d suggest a pearl necklace,” he snickers as he blocks your path, “you got a great neck for it, toots.”

“Get out of my way.”

“Look, the truth is hard. It hurts. It pisses you off. I heard your phone call, doll face, he’s not staying late at the office. Trust me.”

“I don’t fucking know you.”

“Oooh, and with a mouth like that, how is he not absolutely obsessed?” His voice grits in a way that makes you shudder.

“I didn’t ask and I don’t care,” you rebuff, “now excuse me.”

You elbow past him and he lets you. You realise, if he wanted to, he could easily corner you there. Especially since you can’t move very fast.

“Think about it. You know, I’d even buy you diamonds for a good blow job,” he taunts, “you got a pretty mouth.”

“Yeah, and you got a big one,” you toss back over your shoulder as you hurry away, lowering your voice to mumble beyond his comprehension, “jerk.”

💎

You get the right size of shoes after waiting nearly forty minutes in line and at the till as they searched the backroom. You check the new receipt and nearly blanch. Wow, that’s a lot for shoes. Only last weak, Colin reamed you out on how much you spent for the good toilet paper. Well, you suppose they’re a necessity for work. He just got that big promotion.

You take the new pair and head out. You search for a sign and find the bathrooms just past the food court. With the pressure off your bladder, you come back out and resist the temptation of the Cinnabon that greets you. You set off on your escape from the materialistic maze and ignore the jewelry shop as you pass it a second time.

You come out to the parking lot and deflate as you remember how far you had to park. God, your back is fucked. You need to lay down. You don’t know how you’re going to make it through work.

You head down the row and find your beat up car. You open the back door and put the bag on the floor. You swing the door shut and open the driver’s, turning to sit sideways on the seat as you wheeze and cry out. The twinge in your back as you shaking as you grip the interior.

Fuck!

You huff through the pain and steel yourself. You can make it home. Then you can relax and save your energy for work. You can’t call in again. Colin will flip.

“So,” a voice startles you before you can turn in the seat, “what do you think?”

The man with the mustache appears again, stepping out from behind the nearby SUV. He pulls a string of diamonds out of his sleeves and lets them dangle. He wiggles the necklace and gives a wink.

“You deserve something pretty… and I deserve my dick sucked,” he cackles, “you know, you could even pawn it so you have money for diapers.”

“Ew,” you twist in the seat and hold back another groan, “not interested, weirdo.”

“Come on, when’s the last time he fucked you?”

“Get out of here,” you reach for the door.

“No, I’m serious. Those funbags are already fucking huge and they’re only going to get bigger. He should be motorboating them like he’s on the goddamn lake–”

“Stop,” you go to pull the door open but he’s quick to strut forward and grab the top, holding it open. “Hey, let go, you fucking–”

“I’m offering you what you’re not getting anywhere else.”

“Speak for yourself,” you sniff. Things have been tense but they’ll get better. Besides, you don’t know this man. You don’t care what he thinks.

“Ah, well, how about I buy you dinner first. You must be starving and I can play the gentleman–”

“Not interested–”

“It’s a good deal–”

“You’re a fucking creep,” you snap and wrench on the door.

Caught off guard, his arms slackens and you manage to pinch his fingers in the door. He yelps and recoils as you let the door open just slightly and slam it once he rescinds his hand. He shakes out his fingers as he bends and growls.

You hit the locks and shove your keys into the ignition. He stands straight, clutching the diamonds and his injured hands as his eyes blaze in your direction. You shift into gear and grip the wheel, foot hovering over the pedal.

“Oh, this isn’t over, sweet cheeks,” his voice is muffled through the window, “you wait. You’ll be begging for this when you catch that fuckboy with shooting his swimmers into another slut’s pool–”

You stomp on the gas and veer out of the spot. You tremble as your ears ring and your eyes water. He’s wrong. He doesn’t know you. Or Colin. 

Maybe you could still surprise Colin. Maybe you can bring dinner to him. Eat with him at the office before you go off for your shift. Just like when he first started there. Maybe it will remind him of how things used to be, not what they’ve come to.

[lemmetreatya]

Any spare jjba smut? Literally any of the guys, although I love how you write joot, and I'm interested to see how you'd write old!Joseph (SDC)

omg anon thank you SO much for reminding me that i am indeed a whore for joestars. your diligence will be heavily rewarded!! ❤️

Jojo characters during sex

ft. Jonathan, Old!Joseph (SDC), Jotaro (part 4), DIO (SDC)

content: afab!reader, modern au ig, smut, sex, male. pen, missionary, doggy, cowgirl

🔆 jonathan: missionary 🔆

despite being the supposed gentleman he is, jonathan is an absolute sucker for being able to hover over you from above during sex. he may not give it away, but loves being able to play and fondle with your breasts as he thrusts into you, large hands able to engulf all of you — regardless of size. it’s almost perverted how his eyes can never seem focused on your face despite how much he proclaims he likes missionary for that reason.

“jojo…”

your fingers cant help but play within the naped locks of jonathan’s navy black hair, your mind on the verge of going blank as result of how passionately he was fucking into you.

“you’re so beautiful…” he’d strain out despite his attention not being on you. as his eyes cant help but lay strain over your bouncing breasts, you can only let out a huff.

“feel like…” your cheek lays flat against the pillow, drool peaking at the corner of your lips. “you’re not even…that wasn’t f-f-or me…”

a short stutter leaves jonathan’s mouth but he doesn’t let up his pace. in fact, the man continues to plough into you whilst bringing up his index finger and thumb to his lips. he momentarily sucks on the digits, eyes fierce, before bringing them down onto the exposed nub of your nipple.

nothing less of a yelp and a moan leaves your throat at the additional stimulation. if anything, it just makes jonathan smile more.

“don’t underestimate me…i can appreciate…more than one thing at a…at a time.”

🔆 joseph: spooning 🔆

“it’s not because of my age…” he usually groans but joseph is an absolute adorer of spooning fucks. he says its always been his go-to choice of position but even you didnt need to know him within his juvenile days to work out that (lazily) thrusting into you from behind on his side was definitely due to lack of effort. still yet, joseph was always a good lay when it came to this position— clearly he knew what he was doing.

the patient slapping of skin sounded throughout the room as joseph took you from behind. his cock had no problem in sliding in and out of your gooey cunt, his grunts feverently hot against your neck.

“god, you’re always so warm for me princess…” he endearingly spewls as the rough hairs of his silver moustache softly scratch against your skin.

you yourself cant help but mewl in reply as the man’s fat cock continues to drive up your ridged canals, the arched angle of your back resulting in you feeling him just about poke your innards.

“always for you, daddy…”

you moan almost subconsciously. it wasn’t something youd said with him before but there was just something about the man that made you want to address him as such. the use of the pet name makes joseph’s dick jump within you. you dont miss how he blows an extra hot puff of air onto your neck.

“don’t say that unless…you want trouble.” he muses, but you know he’s more endorsing the behaviour than berating.

with an impulsive clench of your walls around him, you signal that you were willing to take whatever ’trouble’ was.

🔆 jotaro: doggy 🔆

oh now jotaro is a man who takes what he wants — thats we know. but there’s just something about having you at his beckon from behind, the almost animalistic inclining to have his way with you unabashed?? jotaro has his suave and intimate moments but sometimes he just wants to be able to indulge in you any way he can.

bullet crowns seem to be ringing through your head at this point. your body is being jolted way too harshly for anything you have to say to come out sane. no matter how much you cry out in pleasure or muffle his name into the duvet, jotaro is absolutely not letting up.

“s-shit…”

his own curses come out half baked and cant even form properly from his lips. understandably, seeing as jotaros eyes are determinedly focused on the mirror situated in front of your naked bodies, the sight delightfully vulgar as his hands squeeze at your hips.

“mine…m-mine.” is what he chants over you, his cock making no mistake in target as each time it perfectly carves out the pipe of your insides and leaves your pussy puffy with white froths of cream.

you can’t help but squeeze out a sorry excuse of a “yours” in reply to jotaro’s proclamation. which to his delight he takes it as a green light to prop one of his legs up onto the bed and proceed to drill into you with the vigor of a thousand men.

itd be no lie to say that your mind was then completely scrambled and your senses telling you this man was nothing but fine trouble.

🔆 dio: cowgirl 🔆

this man needs to be in control for every aspect of his life, but when it comes to sex? actually, no he still needs and wants to be in control, but he finds a way to not always make it about him. dio loves cowgirl simply because it gives him the feel for power whilst simultaneously letting you do all the work. it also gives the illusion about the sense of worship finally being directed towards you — and he likes that! (but he’d never admit that aloud)

as his fingers grip onto the seat of your hips, you cant but help yourself feel exceptionally full and imbedded by dio’s cock as he rocks himself up into your hole.

“look at you…”

hed almost pray from below, beady eyes strained and focused on you and everything you deliver — raining from your moans, cries and curses.

“so beautiful for me.”

you should be mindful that he doesn’t suddenly plant his feet flat into the mattress to use as a anchor of some sort before he’s using the momentum to fuck into you mercilessly. however when he does, it’s like heaven on earth as you cry out of both shock and pleasure.

“di…” is all you can get out and the smile on dio’s face in response is devliah.

“that’s it. lemme hear you.” hed coo.

[sincerelyyycece]

no way…you’re actually jealous.

Sirius has always been flirtatious, so it doesn't faze you….right?

note: Sirius genuinely has feelings for the reader, yet he finds himself unsure of how to proceed. Therefore, he resorts to his natural inclination: flirting. Also, Marlene Mckinnon is the one Sirius is flirting with. Mary Macdonald is here too. Brief mention of Dorcas Meadowes. (I love the marauder girls so much!) Sirius calls you a nickname he made to tease you. (Y/N/N = your nickname)

sincerelyyycece © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

"What’s bothering you?" asked a female voice. I looked up to see Mary, who had a worried expression on her face. In response, I hummed. "You look like you want to start a fight," she said. "Oh," I mumbled. I cast a glance into the distance, where Sirius and Marlene were clearly flirting. I swallowed and cleared my throat. "I am fine, just a little under the weather," I explained, smiling. I returned my gaze to the couple. Mary smirked as she followed my gaze. "Ahh!” she exclaimed, returning my gaze. "Now I know what the problem is," she teased. I avert my gaze in embarrassment.

"You’re jealous," she chuckled. "I am not," I say, my face flushed. She is amused by my reaction. "I mean, I get it; I would be jealous too," she shrugged. "Months of him teasing and making flirty jokes with you, and then boom, he suddenly flirts with another girl; if that is not mixed signals, I do not know what is." I fell silent at her words, rethinking his recent actions. Mary had noticed my silence. "Hey," she said. "I was only kidding," she said as I straightened my back. She was about to say something when a voice interrupted her. "Hello ladies," a voice said.

"Hi Sirius," Mary replied. I stare at Mary blankly, uninterested in Sirius's presence. "Well, I guess I should... leave you two. I just remembered Dorcas needed help with her dress. Uhm...bye," she bolted as quickly as she could. "What is her problem?" Sirius mused. "Haven't you heard her?" I retorted sarcastically. Sirius smirked, clearly unconcerned by my demeanour. He made no attempt to hide his laughter. "Woah, what is up your ass now, Y/N/N?" he teased. He knew I despised the nickname he gave me. I glared at him. "Stop that," I said. "Stop what?" he asked, grinning.

"I swear to Merlin, Sirius Black, if you keep doing that, I’m going to kick you where the sun doesn’t shine," I threatened. "I know you have a bad mouth, but threats?" he inquired. "You’re upset," he said. I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "No sh*t, Sherlock," I exclaimed before realizing who I was speaking to. I closed my eyes in shame. "May I know who irritated my lovely princess?" I could hear the tease in his tone. I open my eyes to see him giggling. Flirt. I thought to myself. "It is none of your concern," I snarled.

"Come on, tell me, and maybe I will punch them in the face," he said, shrugging. His words make me scoff. "Sure, punch the girl you were flirting with earlier," I said as I slapped my hand across my mouth. My mouth, oh my mouth. I cursed my own stupidity. I cast a glance at Sirius. He was having fun with it. He declared, "You are jealous." He laughs and says, "That is why you’re mad." "Stop talking," I muttered. "Don’t be grumpy; you’re still my number one," he joked. I stood up to leave, but I found myself sitting back down again. He pulled me down to his side. He simply stared at my face without saying anything. My brows furrowed in confusion. I was about to say something when he unexpectedly smiled at me.

"No way!” he exclaimed, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "You’re actually jealous." I tightened my lips, attempting to play it cool while rolling my eyes to conceal the telltale flush on my cheeks. "Oh my god!" He burst into laughter, a mischievous smirk dancing on his lips. "You so are."

Glaring at him with feigned annoyance, I hoped he didn't catch on to how crimson I had become under his relentless teasing. Ignoring my silent protest, he took a deep breath, maintaining that infuriating grin as he said, "Okay, okay." His gaze lingered on me, his ridiculous behavior prompting an involuntary shake of my head.

"Would you like a drink?" he inquired, attempting to shift the focus. Unable to resist, I shot back, "Why don't you ask Marlene?" His response echoed through the room, "Don't worry, Y/N/N! You're the only one I have my eyes on," as I turned to leave him behind. A triumphant grin spread across my face, revelling in the playful banter.

Despite the irritation he often provoked, I couldn't deny the goodness of his intentions. Meeting him had added a unique spark to my days, making me feel genuinely special. He was undeniably a sweetheart, and I cherished the fact that he could break through my tough exterior. He's become my favourite, but of course, I'd never admit it to him. That would only fuel his ego further. My smile widened at the thought, savouring the complexity of our dynamic.

[octoberautumnbox]

Hello fellow Yuri enthusiast I would like to throw another thought in your head. Siblings Jooe and Yuri being he slut sisters you use and abuse ;) all the spitting choking and fucking these two polar opposite sisters.

Idk I saw those bikini pictures of jooe and she kinda looked like a thick yuri and now I want them both heh.

(idk which jooe pics anon send some in thru dm or imgur or smth pls and I'll edit this to add when u do!)

~~~

Her chains clack against the bedposts; you somehow keep forgetting that these handcuffs aren't the flimsy ones she can easily break free from. Fortunately, it seems she keeps forgetting too, and it only turns her on more as bruises develop on her wrists. Tears stream down her face and her incoherent babbling as you piston deep into her fuckhole only earn her more of her rough fucking.

"Guh, fuck, please, hurts, hu- AAHHHHHH!!" A well-timed slap of her tits brings her ever so close to the edge. You watch them bounce for you as you pound her into the bed harder and harder, and Jooe's consciousness steadily starts fading away once more.

"Please, shit, I'm-" she struggles to blurt out, each thrust seemingly hitting a reset button in her head. You knew what she was trying to say, but if she was gonna be a weak-willed slut like this she didn't deserve to get what she wants.

Just then, the door creaks open and Yuri strolls in with her towel. She's halfway through drying herself off, her own swimsuit still dripping with the poolwater onto your shared room's tiled floor.

"Oppa," she sing sweetly, "can I have a go after Unnie?" She kisses you delicately on the cheek, then on the lips with just the slightest bit of teasing tongue for you. It always turned them on to watch each other take your cock, and it looks like this was no exception.

"Of course, baby. Anything you like," you reply, almost faltering. Jooe reminds you of the job you're in the middle of, as her walls squeeze deliciously around your shaft and makes her pleasures known by the growing wet spot on the bed right under her sore and abused cunt.

"Oppa, please, I wanna cum, I'm so cl-- oh fuck, oh fuck, OH FUCK!! AAAAAHHHH" She delays her orgasm and resultant scream as long as she can, luckily just enough time for Yuri to shut the door and make the room soundproof again. Once she hears the door shut, she lets everything out, and her squirt escapes her poor hole. It splashes all over her crotch, glistening on her puffy pussy lips and coating your rock-hard cock to fuck her even better. You have to give her a moment of respite, else she might actually lose her mind and her ability to hold herself back when with other people.

Pulling out, the last few drops of her girlcum land on the sheets underneath her and she watches as your cock exits. Jooe also watches, her chains clacking again, as Yuri sweetly takes over with licks and pecks on your cock, determined to clean up every single trace of her elder sister before taking you on herself.

"Mm, yummy," she muses gleefully. "Ehehe, how does Oppa want me?"

"Hands on the headboard baby," guiding her to face away from you, right over her sister still cuffed to the bed. She follows immediately, her excitement showing as the crotch of her swimsuit gets wetter than the rest. In position, she looks back at you with love, nothing but a thin piece of fabric that left nearly nothing to the imagination the only thing between you and her perfect pussy.

You pull it aside and she moans cutely at the sensation of being exposed. Rubbing a finger against her puffy lips elicits more lewd sounds, followed by two, and three, before finally teasing her with your cock.

"My good girl, do you want it hard like your Unnie?" you ask gently. Yuri isn't one for rough fucking by default, and you've learned to make sure before taking her.

"Mmm, let's start slow, Oppa," she says as she guides your hand to her boobs, showing her Unnie how well you pleasure her little sister, "we have a show to put on, after all."

~~~

a/n: just a little warmup before I work on actual fics :DDDD

[theemporium]

ou maybe prompt #65 with theo 👀

65. “i guess I’ll just get off all by myself”

.

Your relationship with Theodore Nott was a complicated one. 

To the rest of the world, you seemed like the perfect pair if it weren’t for the fact you were always at each other’s throats. 

Since anyone could remember—professor and students alike—there has never been a time where you and Theo had ever gotten along, let alone withstanded each other’s presence for longer than five minutes at a time. 

That was until sixth year came along and something just switched. 

As it turns out, it’s a far more productive use of your time to shove your tongue down his throat to shut the boy up rather than argue with him. And it’s much easier to get you to take back your snarky little comments when he has you pressed up against the door, begging him to fuck you before your next class started. 

And that was how you found yourself in the boys’ dormitories during the Slytherins vs Gryffindor quidditch match with Theo standing a few feet away from you, leaning against the bedpost and smirking at you in a way that made you want to slap him. 

“You just gonna ogle me or what, Nott?” you snapped impatiently, your patience was already running thin from the day you had and the boy in front of you wasn’t helping. 

“I’m enjoying the view, love,” he replied with a casual shrug, eyes glimmering in amusement at the way you scoffed at his response. 

“I don’t have time for this,” you muttered and shook your head, reaching down to grab your book bag you dumped on your way in after a prickly meeting with Snaps. “You’re just wasting my time.” 

Theo’s brows furrowed together. “Where are you going?” 

“Anywhere but here,” you snapped at him as you took a step towards the door, but with quick reflexes you felt a hand around your wrist tugging you back. “Let me go, Nott.” 

“What you gonna do about it?” he hummed, the warmth of his chest pressed against his back was a comfort you didn’t like to admit you craved—especially after a day like the one you had. 

“Theo. Let me go,” you repeated once again, teeth gritted together. “You’re pissing me off and you’re not giving me what I want, so I’m gonna go find someone who will.” 

The grip on your waist tightened. 

“Say that again, love.” 

“I said, I’m going to find someone who will actually fuck me instead of giving me a headache.” 

The breath was almost knocked out of you when you felt him spin you around, barely giving you a chance to react before he pushed you back onto the bed. 

“One more time.” 

You leaned up on your elbows, staring at the boy standing at the end of the bed. His eyes dark, his lips set in a straight line and you gained some amusement at the way his fists were clenched at his side. 

“Didn’t take you as a territorial caveman, Nott,” you mused, biting down on your lower lip. “And if I can’t leave, I guess I’ll just get off by myself.” 

His jaw clenched. “You’ll be begging in minutes.” 

You raised your brows. “You wanna bet?” 

Theo leaned down, his hands circling your ankles before he tugged you towards the end of the bed, close enough so that he could hover over you with his nose brushing against yours. 

“I bet you’ll be begging for my cock like the little slut I know you are, love,” he murmured, voice soft like he was whispering sweet nothings. “And I bet you’ve fucking soaked through your panties since you stepped in here.” 

Your breath hitched and his smirk grew. 

“Wanna make a bet on what I’ll find if I stick my hand up that fucking skirt of yours, love?”

.

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 26]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.4K

"Baby? I'm here." Mingi announced as he entered your home. He removed his shoes at the doorway.

"Oh, Mings! You're here." You jumped in shock as you emerged from the living room, intending to place your purse on the dining table so you wouldn't forget it.

"Yeah, I called out to you but you didn't reply." He came over to hug him, kissing your forehead.

"You did? Sorry, I was busy getting ready." You said, fixing your earrings as you walked back to the bedroom to check your reflection. You decided to only wear earrings on your basic lobe piercings, to look more presentable.

"You look great, by the way." Mingi complimented.

"Really? Thank you." Now that brought a smile to your face. It was too hot to wear your leather jacket now since you were having nervous sweats. Tonight, you were going to meet Mingi's mother.

"I got some stuff for your mom, I'm not sure what she likes so..." You said. Mingi's eyes widened at all the gifts on the table.

"Flowers, ginseng, skin care, tea. Baby, this is too much!" Mingi burst out laughing.

"Stop laughing at me! I panic bought them." You whined, slapping his arm. It was cute how you were going above and beyond to impress his mother.

"What time is it now? Are we late?" You asked.

"Not at all. If we go now, we'll be VERY early." Mingi chuckled. You nodded, going to the vanity table in your bedroom to make sure your light make up was still good, that it hadn't melted off from the sweating of you moving around to get ready. Mingi wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

"Is this our first couple look?" He gestured to the maroon hoodie he was wearing. You snorted as Mingi took his phone out to take a mirror selfie with you.

"We make a cute couple." Mingi grinned.

"Sure..." You laughed. Mingi cupped your cheeks to give you a kiss. When he pulled away, his lips sparkled.

"You got lip gloss on you now." Reaching up, you wiped his bottom lip with your thumb. To show that he didn't care, Mingi dipped you down with the intention to give you another kiss.

"Hold your horses. No more kisses, you're really going to ruin my make up." You put your hands on his chest to hold him away.

"What~?" He whined.

"Don't pout." You chided, walking out of his embrace to go choose a pair of shoes to wear. In the end, you wore a pair of Air Force that was customised by some artist. The spray painted colours were your little pop of colour.

"We shouldn't go too early, I don't want your mum to feel like we're rushing her to get food ready." You thought out loud, looking at the time on your phone.

"Or maybe we can go early and help her with the cooking." You spoke to yourself.

"Baby, first of all, breathe. Secondly, we can go now and just sit for a bit. My omma won't mind." Mingi stroked your hair.

"Okay, let's go now." You said.

Mingi helped you carry the things, mainly because he thought you looked pretty holding the bouquet of flowers, even if it wasn't for you. With masks on, you entered the cab that Mingi called.

"Omma, we're on the way." Mingi said to his mother on the phone. You looked at him expectantly, wanting to know her reaction to you two coming over earlier. Mingi smiled, his free hand grasping yours. He let out a few acknowledgement hums to his mother before hanging up.

"Well?"

"Well what? She just said okay." Mingi spoke through his laughter. You knew Mingi was just having an absolute field day with you being so nervous.

"I'm glad you take joy in my breakdown." You crossed your arms. Mingi smoothed his hand over your thigh.

"You'll be fine, baby. My omma is cool." He wrapped an arm around you to reel you in.

You stayed like that until the cab dropped you off at Mingi's mother's new home. He held your hand as you entered the lift together. You ran through your greetings in your head, making you quiet.

"What's going on in there? You're suddenly awfully quiet." Mingi lightly tapped your head.

You cast him a look, removing your mask and tucking it into your jacket pocket. You wordlessly removed his mask as well, keeping it in your bag for him to use again later. When the lift stopped, you let Mingi walk in front to greet his mother first.

"Omma! We're here!" He called out as he opened the door. You let go of his hand, taking a step back to give the mother and son some space. There was the shuffling of footsteps.

"Oh, my dear son!" Mingi's mother exclaimed as she hugged her son tightly. Mingi laughed, wrapping his long arms around her.

"Where is she?" You heard her ask him.

"Right. Baby, come here." Mingi turned to you and held your hand, tugging you into the house. Mingi's mother's eyes fell on you and she had a soft smile on her face.

"Nice to meet you, omonim. My name is (y/n)." You bowed deeply, greeting her.

"Aigoo, you're such a pretty thing. Come, come!" She held your hands, pulling you in and leaving Mingi at the doorway.

Mingi continued to stand there, frozen in shock. You just revealed your real name. The first time he was hearing your real name was you introducing yourself to his mother for the first time. It never occurred that he didn't know your name prior to this because it never bothered him, and he wasn't going to force you either.

"Mingi ah! Why are you still standing there?" His mother called him.

"C-Coming!" Mingi hid the way his heart was racing and swallowed the lump in his throat as he grabbed the paper bags and went to where you and his mother stood.

"What's all this, dear son?"

"(y/n) bought some gifts for you." Mingi said. Even the way your name rolled off his tongue felt weird to him.

"Yes, these are for you." You handed her the bouquet of flowers you've been carefully cradling in your arms. She received them and glimpsed through the bags that Mingi was carrying.

"Omo, this is more than 'some'! You shouldn't have, (y/n) ah..." She waved her hands.

"You're lucky she didn't buy the whole store." Mingi snorted.

"Mings!" You slapped his arm for exposing you, cheeks warming in embarrassment. You bent down to help her take the things out from the bags for her to properly look at them. Mingi watched in adoration as you went through the gifts.

"I know this moisturiser is very good. I just finished my container." Mingi's mother said.

"I heard from Mings that your knee hurts from standing at the restaurant. The sales lady told me this balm is good for massaging into sore joints." You explained.

"Is that so? I'll definitely try it out. This is all very thoughtful of you, (y/n) ah. Thank you." She stroked your cheek.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you like them." You grinned, mentally relieved.

"Let me go finish dinner and we'll be able to eat soon. Son, put the gifts in my room." Mrs Song instructed before disappearing into the kitchen with you.

"Can I help with anything, omonim?" You offered.

"There's no need, dear. Just go sit, make yourself at home. Mingi ah! When you're done, get your girlfriend something to drink. Be a good host!" She yelled. You giggled, blushing at how she just directly refers to you as Mingi's girlfriend. Mingi came to the kitchen after putting the gifts away.

"Try one of these collagen pouches. They're really good and have probiotics in it." She cut in front of Mingi at the fridge to give you one of the jelly pouches.

"Thank you." You bowed your head.

Even though she didn't let you do any cooking, you still lingered in the kitchen to chat with her and get to know her better.

"Ah, Mingi told me that you're taking care of your little sister on your own, it must not be easy having to work and care for a child when you're so young." She said as she chopped vegetables.

"It wasn't at first but seeing her grow up makes it all worth it. Her name is Haneul." You showed her a picture.

"Aigoo! She's so cute." Mrs Song fangirled over Haneul.

"Do you cook?"

"Yes, I learnt to cook for Haneul. I didn't want her eating too much outside food. Plus, it was cheaper to cook rather than to eat outside or get take out. Now I cook for her and Mingi. Both have similar tastes, both don't like vegetables." You explained with a laugh.

"That's very sensible of you. But that son of mine, he always doesn't like vegetables. Since he was young, I had to hide vegetables in his food." Mrs Song complained.

"I'm right here, you know?" Mingi reminded.

"When we first started going out, I asked him why he doesn't want to cook more with you owning the restaurant." You said.

"Right? Wasted a good opportunity to learn." Mrs Song clicked her tongue and shook her head.

"But Mingi is very good at taking care of me in other ways. He always makes sure I'm eating and sleeping enough since I tend to work late nights." You turned to Mingi, smiling at him softly.

"That's good, that's good. It's always good for a couple to take care of each other. Especially when you eventually get married and have children." Mrs Song nodded in approval.

"Omma! W-What are you talking about?! We only just got together, why are you mentioning marriage and kids?" Mingi exclaimed in shock. You saw Mingi clear his throat, ears going red in embarrassment. You giggled at how flustered he became, refusing to meet your eyes.

"What's wrong? It's normal to talk about marriage and children." Mrs Song scolded.

"Anyway, (y/n) ah, I made somer tonic for you to take home later. It'll give you more energy since you always miss your sleep and you're always working so hard." Mrs Song informed.

"Thank you so much, omonim." You bowed gratefully.

You stepped aside to answer a call from Eden. It also gave Mingi and his mother some privacy since they haven't really spoken with her busy getting to know you.

"You must be tired, omma." You watched as Mingi massaged his mother's shoulders.

"I'm not. I like (y/n), she seems like a nice girl." Mrs Song said.

"I'm glad you like her, your opinion matters to me a lot. Both of you mean the world to me. She takes great care of me. She doesn't want to tell the others yet, she wanted you to be the first to know." Mingi leaned against the counter beside his mother.

"She's a sweet girl, she knows how to think ahead. Her parents raised her well." She complimented. You felt a slight ache in your chest at the mention of your parents.

"Her parents didn't raise her, remember? She's like that because she had to fend for herself and take care of herself." Mingi explained.

"I would have taken her to be my daughter any day. Having a daughter is, they're so gentle and you can dress them up all pretty." Mrs Song laughed.

"Gee, thanks omma." Mingi grumbled.

"Tsk, don't keep pouting, you don't look handsome. And you should know that you and your brother were a handful to care for."

"But you still did it despite dad always being overseas." Mingi shrugged.

Along with the ache in your chest, you felt something else. Was it jealousy? You were envious of the close bond Mingi had with his mother, the conversations and laughter that they shared. You wondered if things were different, could you ever have that relationship with your parents?

"Baby? Everything okay?" You hadn't noticed Mingi coming out to check on you, nearly bumping into you. He didn't know that you were standing there, listening to him and his mother.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You lied.

"You sure? Why did Eden call?" Mingi tilted his head, sensing you were lying with how stiff you were.

"Yeah. He just called about some work stuff regarding the upcoming recording sessions, that's all." You shrugged. Mingi nodded slowly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Don't worry too much about it, hmm?" He kissed the top of your head, thinking you were just stressed by the upcoming schedules.

"I won't." You assured with a smile, patting his stomach. Suddenly, there was a click. You and Mingi looked up to see his mother holding her phone up in front of her face, having secretly taken a picture of you and Mingi.

"Omma!" Mingi roared, trying to take the phone from her. You smiled as you watched them play around.

"Yah! Don't behave like a child with (y/n) around." She turned it into a lecture just to have the upper hand. She tucked her phone into her pocket and went back to the kitchen.

"Mingi ah, take (y/n) to sit down in the living room." She commanded. Mingi held your hand and led you to the sofa, sitting down with him facing you.

"I told you, there was nothing for you to worry about. See? She likes you even more than me." He stroked your head.

"Yes, there was nothing to worry about. She's lovely." You smiled.

"Now, that aside. And we're alone, tell me what's wrong? I know the upcoming album recording isn't what's bothering you." Mingi held both your hands in his. You opened your mouth but he cut you off.

"And don't lie to me. I know when you're lying." Mingi insisted.

"Seeing you and your mom, I just wondered if there was ever any point where my parents and I could have been like that if things were different. Would I have been able to bring you home to meet them? Have a meal together? I wouldn't say it's jealousy, more envy." You shrugged. Mingi cupped your cheek.

"Oh, baby." He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumbs. You always maintained a stoic front when talking about your parents but Mingi knew you still hoped for a relationship with them.

"Please don't pity me, Mings. It's just something I have to live with. I was the one who decided to get up and leave." You said.

"Don't say that, it's like you're calling yourself a coward. Which you are not." Mingi argued.

You didn't say anything but pursed your lips, an indication that you did think of yourself as such. Mingi pulled you closer to him so you fell against his chest.

"Mings! Your mum could see us and get the wrong idea." You hit his chest.

"I don't care. My pabo girlfriend needs me to comfort her now, that's more important to me." He said. You melted immediately, arms moving the wrap around Mingi's lean torso. He rubbed your back lovingly, kissing your head.

The both of you were in your own bubble that you didn't notice Mingi's mother looking at you the entire time. She smiled softly and went back to the kitchen.

"You've really grown up, Mingi ah." She said softly as she continued her cooking.

"Dinner is done." You and Mingi went to help bring the food out. Mrs Song prepared a feast despite it only being the 3 of you.

"Wow, everything looks so good. Thank you, omonim." You said, nearly salivating at the food.

"It's no problem at all, (y/n) ah. Eat up." She encoraged. Mingi placed your bowl of rice in front of you before taking his seat next to you while Mrs Song sat opposite the two of you.

"Thank you for the food!" You and Mingi chimed and dug in. The food was seriously delicious, unlike anything you've had before. It was next level cooking. While it didn't taste like a Michelin star meal, it was something different. You weren't exaggerating when you said you could taste the homely love in it.

"How is it?" Mrs Song asked expectantly.

"It's good... All of it... It's all really good... I love it." You looked at her with glassy eyes.

"Aigoo, I'm so happy to hear that. Eat as much as you want, my dear." She softened, cooing at you. She grabbed a piece of the stewed fish and placed it onto your bowl.

"Yah, Mingi, how old are you? Sneaking the vegetables onto her bowl. What am I going to do with you?" She scolded Mingi.

"She likes vegetables!" Mingi defended.

After the meal, the three of you shared some fruit that Mingi's mother cut up. She also brewed some tea for all of you to have. It was a nice way to end the meal and the evening. Then it came the typical moments when meeting your partner's family.

"He always cried a lot. I had to pick him up because he cried himself sick." She pointed at a photo of Mingi's face all red from crying with a fever patch on his forehead.

"Aww, look at you." You shook Mingi's sleeve as you swooned over him. Mingi rolled his eyes.

"I think that's enough, omma..." He grumbled.

"But he always loved to dance. You can play any music, he'll start bouncing and wanting to dance. He gets it from his father." She chuckled, ignoring Mingi entirely.

"Even at such a young age, he looked so tall." You pointed to the kindergarten photo.

"Right? He was always the tallest in all of his classes with his long legs and long arms." Mrs Song smiled.

"Your smile in this photo is exactly the same. You haven't changed that much." You looked at Mingi. Mingi smiled sarcastically at you, not appreciating how you were teaming up with his mother. He facepalmed as the two of you continued through Mingi's childhood album. He wanted this to end.

"Okay, this has been fun but we have to work tomorrow. We should go." Mingi wrapped it up. You checked the time and nodded in agreement. You didn't want to overstay too.

"Before you go, could you help me put away the dishes, Mingi ah? I can't reach the top cupboard." Mrs Song requested.

"Of course." Mingi obediently went.

"Thank you for having me over, omonim. It was really great meeting you." You smiled to her.

"Now that I've chased that boy away, I can tell you what I have been wanting to tell you the whole evening." She said. You gulped at her words but nodded.

"I may be Mingi's mother but from today onwards, you're family too, alright? You can come any time, you can call me any time you need a mother's food, love, comfort, anything. I will gladly be your mother too." She stroked your head.

"Omonim..." That was it, the water works came. You wiped your tears and she hugged you tightly.

"Thank you for taking care of my son. He's been through a lot and he's stubborn, always keeping things in his heart. But after today, I'm so grateful he has you with him to give him all the love."

"He's always there for me too, giving me all the love and teaching me to trust the world a little bit more." You smiled through the tears.

"I may not know them personally but I think it's the lost of your parents for not seeing what a great young women their daughter has become." She chuckled.

"Omma! I leave for a few minutes and you make my girlfriend cry?!" Mingi came out, shocked to see you crying and hugging his mother.

"What did you tell her?" Mingi asked as he received you from his mother, tucking you securely under his arm. He held your chin and tilted your head up for him to see. With his sleeves, he gently wiped your cheeks. You still maintained a small smile, assuring Mingi that nothing bad happened.

"It's a secret." She said, not giving anything away.

After Mingi's mother put together the items she wanted you to bring home, you waited at the door, giving Mingi and his mother some privacy to say goodbye to each other.

"Treasure her, Mingi ah. She's a keeper." Mingi's mother said softly, patting Mingi's arm with a smile.

~

Series Masterlist

[livingformintyoongi]

✨💫The WIP Fairy is visiting your blog and wants you to share your WIPS! Share whatever you like! All of them or one of them, just the title or a brief synopsis. Put them out into the world to manifest some writing inspiration 📝🤍 then send this ask to your writer moots!💫✨

AH! Loved the idea jsskjskasj I finally find an excuse to throw all the randoms bits I have scattered around my library that I've been trying to finish (I'm a very scattered person, in case you haven't noticed).

Somebody I F*cked Once | Yoongi (Part of BOTN series)

"Which one suits me better? The red or the white? Be honest." You held both shirts up to your chest, giving him a few seconds to carefully consider his answer.

"You look better with nothing on," he chuckled softly, watching as you rolled your eyes. His hands slid to your waist, gently caressing your skin. "Sorry, but you're making it hard for me to focus."

"Why?" you asked, frowning as you set both shirts aside, making sure to lay them flat.

"I don’t know. Maybe because you're sitting on my lap wearing just my favorite bra?" he raised his eyebrows, his hands traveling to your lower back as he carefully pulled you closer. Once you were near enough, he cupped your cheeks and kissed you lazily.

"I'm also wearing black pants," you laughed against his lips, running your hands through his mint-colored hair, which you loved so much. "And don’t forget my super sexy Sailor Venus socks."

"Oh, damn. I don’t know how I could’ve missed the socks," he gave you that gummy smile you adored, brushing his nose against yours.

"I don’t know, Yoonie. Your eyesight is going bad—you’re clearly aging poorly," you teased, getting off his lap and finally choosing the white shirt. Yoongi kept his eyes on you the entire time you were getting dressed.

"Okay... I think I’m ready," you smiled, bending down to pick up your pajamas and put them back in their place. You almost screamed when you felt Yoongi’s hand slap your butt.

"Min Yoongi!" you exclaimed, turning to face him with a frown, narrowing your eyes at his shit-eating grin.

"You bent over. Not my fault," he shrugged, lying on his side while giving you an innocent look.

You raised your leg and lightly kicked his arm, grinning triumphantly as he groaned in complaint. "Soomin!"

"Sorry, I thought you were asking to test Sailor Venus's super strength," you snickered, grabbing your bag and boots.

Echoes of Love | Taehyung (in edition, soon published)

"Are you feeling better?" Jiwon murmured, holding a bottle of water up to his face. She would be lying if she said she didn’t feel sorry for seeing him in such a sorry state, with wet cheeks, a red nose, and dry lips. It was probably the worst she’d ever seen him, even worse than when Joohyun had left him. But she had no idea what to do or say to cheer him up. Knowing herself, she’d probably make things worse if she opened her mouth.

"Yeah..." he replied quietly, his brown eyes fixed on an empty spot on the floor. He seemed lost, absorbed in his own world, trapped in memories that caused him so much pain and heaviness it felt like he couldn’t bear them much longer. That, Jiwon thought, had been Taehyung's greatest muse: his pain.

"I’m sorry you have to go through all of this, I... I didn’t want to cause you more trouble. I know you hate listening to people complain and all that, but... I don’t have anyone else..."

"Shut up, you’re just making things worse," he murmured with sarcasm, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere a little. Contrary to what Taehyung thought, Jiwon actually cared about how he felt, she cared about listening to him, being there for him. "Now, why don’t you start from the beginning? How did you meet her?"

Taehyung stayed silent for a few seconds, one of his hands running through his hair, which had lost its once elegant form a long time ago. He licked his lips, feeling them dry. When he looked up, Jiwon’s eyes were already fixed on him, observing him with an intensity that revealed just how vulnerable he felt.

"I... I met her five years ago... there were almost seven months left until the next exhibition and I was struggling to create new art... and then she..."

"Did you make her your muse?" Jiwon tilted her head, sitting down next to him on the step. Her friend’s nervous behavior was starting to unsettle her. Even she didn’t know why. She knew him like the back of her hand, she knew he would never harm a girl, at least not consciously. So why was it so hard for him to speak?

"Yeah..." he murmured, covering his face with both hands. He closed his eyes, letting the memories of his time with Soomin flood back: her laughter, her eyes, her lips, her skin against his. Each memory grew more vivid, like a cold stream of water. He could hear the melody she played on the piano the first time they worked together, or remember the first time he saw her smile... Everything overwhelmed his mind like a cascade of moments he couldn’t stop. "She... she was like a breath of fresh air. I’d never met anyone so beautiful... and I’m not just talking about her looks, although she was that too. I’m talking about... her." He sighed, looking at Jiwon, whose eyes reflected the desolation he was feeling. "Her essence, her soul... whatever you want to call it. That’s what made her beautiful, Jiwon, and I don’t think I’ll find that in anyone else... I don’t want to."

Jiwon hugged her knees, still looking at her friend. She thought she understood what he was saying, at least to some extent. She had seen it reflected in his works, the way he portrayed her. It couldn’t be a coincidence that in each one, Soomin appeared as an ephemeral, ethereal being.

"So, then? Why did you let her go?" she murmured, studying his profile intently. She knew Taehyung was rambling, avoiding the topic. If she didn’t press him, he wouldn’t face it, and the last thing he needed right now was to keep avoiding reality.

Jiwon watched Taehyung for a long moment, feeling how the air between them thickened. She could see the internal struggle in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged as if the weight of his sadness was crushing him. She decided not to interrupt him, though his words hung heavily in the air. The silence between them became thick, but Jiwon didn’t want to rush her friend. She knew that only when he was ready, the words would come. But when Taehyung finally looked at her, his dark eyes were empty, filled with a sadness that Jiwon couldn’t fully understand, but she felt it as if it were her own.

‘It was her who left me, Jiwon...’

Goodnight N Go | Kim Taehyung (Part of the BOTN series)

“You never come to see me unless it’s for public opinion,” you clarified softly, taking one of the snacks you had served a few minutes ago. It had sounded worse than you had planned, in fact, you even sounded a bit resentful.

“Of course…” he swallowed hard as he saw your gaze settle on his. It was just as soft as always, he knew that; he couldn’t see any malice in them, even if he wanted to. Still, he felt his throat tighten when he realized you were challenging him to contradict you, and worse yet, he couldn’t do it, because you were right. He only spent time with you when cameras were involved, when they needed the journalists to see their perfect relationship. Nausea flooded him almost instantly. It was truly disgusting—why did you keep putting up with this?

“Don’t torment yourself so much, Tae,” you smiled gently, picking up your glass again, but this time, you didn’t take a sip, you just stared at the burgundy liquid inside. “Our relationship was fake from the start, remember? We both agreed that it would only be a public relationship, and we’d each carry on with our love lives as if nothing had changed.” Your heart squeezed at that reality check. You’d never promised exclusivity, you had asked him not to. How could you demand that from Taehyung, who was deeply in love with Joohyun? They loved each other, and you were simply… their curtain.

“Still, it doesn’t feel right. It feels almost like… I don’t know, like I’m using you for my own benefit.”

“That’s what this is about,” you cut him off quickly, not wanting to hear him torment himself over it, “We’re using each other to avoid a scandal that could affect my solo career and yours with Bring on the Night, so don’t feel guilty.”

“Y/N, I…” Taehyung tried to take your hand across the table, accidentally knocking over your glass in the process. You both gasped as the wine spilled directly onto your clothes, staining part of your shirt and skirt. You nearly panicked when the fabric started to become translucent. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… it wasn’t my intention,” he quickly moved toward you, grabbing a handful of napkins to clean the stain from your shirt.

Your cheeks flushed the moment Taehyung’s hands began rubbing the pink stain. “Uhm, Taehyung?” He only responded with a confirming sound, too focused on cleaning the stain. “Your hands are touching…” you lowered your voice with each word that left your mouth. Taehyung’s gaze stopped on yours, noticing how your cheeks were completely red. It was only then that he realized where exactly he was touching.

Now, both of you were completely flushed, unsure of where to look, what to say, or what to do. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize,” he pulled away from you as quickly as he could, awkwardly leaving the napkin on the table. He hadn’t noticed that your shirt had become translucent until that moment.

He wanted the ground to swallow him up right then and there and never spit him out again.

“I… I’ll go change, I’ll be back soon,” you murmured, standing up from your chair to walk—no, run—to your room.

Under The Shadows | Kim Taehyung (Part of the Four Kingdoms series)

"Did you know?" You looked at Jiwon, the knot in your throat tightening with each passing second, the pressure in your chest growing more unbearable. Everyone knew. Everyone but you. "All this time... I trusted you, followed each of your advice thinking you wanted the best for me."

"I do!" he quickly replied, moving closer to take your shoulders. Everyone in the room held their breath, what else could they say anyway? "I've always wanted the best for you, Your Highness, my intention was never to hurt you, I—"

"But you did," you murmured, pulling away from his grasp. They knew, they knew you were in the castle, they knew you wanted to kill Taehyung, and they also knew you would never do it. They knew everything. They had been manipulating every little detail of your life just to bring you here. They erased your damn memory, assigned you to one of their guards, made you Taehyung's servant... and it was all part of their plan. "You betrayed me, you all did..." You bit the inside of your lip, feeling a metallic taste flood your mouth, but you didn’t care, it didn’t even hurt. "I-I thought you were honest with me... I really thought... I thought I had finally found a place where I could be myself... where I didn’t have to spend hours locked in a tower with no human contact."

"And you don't have to anymore, Y/N, you're free here," Taehyung, who had barely been able to look at you since you entered the grand hall, took a few steps toward you. Having him close always made you nervous, every time you were near him you felt an inner warmth you had never felt with anyone in the past, or at least that's what you thought until a few minutes ago. Obviously, you felt this way because of him, it wasn’t just some sort of love at first sight, you had spent months talking with him, months in which he had been taking care of you, showering you with love like no one ever had, how was he able to pretend he didn’t know you? Months pretending you were just a new face, that he knew things about you by chance. He wasn’t any better than the others in this room.

"Don't come near me," you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the cold of your fingers spreading through your arms. A strand of your hair fell over your face as you looked down, its pale color, as white as snow, shining brightly in the sunlight coming through the windows. Every part of you began to tremble, to the point of being unable to stand. Your chest hurt, and your throat felt dry and tight. Panic was starting to take over your body. It was too much for you. "No... please, don’t come near me again..."

Jungkook, the only person in the room who had truly been honest with you, rushed to your side, trying to steady you as your legs gave way. He was halfway there when a spike of ice shot up from the floor, its tip pointing directly at his brow, sharp enough to pierce his skull, fast enough to have ended his life in that instant. "What...?"

Your hands were firmly placed on the floor, your gaze fixed on them. They looked different, they didn’t seem like yours. They were still small, still looked weak, but their color, your nails, looked different. The veins in your hands – and probably throughout your body – glowed a bright white, your skin was much paler than usual, and your nails had grown, sharpened, and their translucent blue color made them appear to be made of ice.

"Her hair!" you heard Soyeon scream. With your still trembling hand, you took a strand of your hair, the same one you had brushed this morning, the one that was supposed to be dark brown, now white. You noticed that as you touched your hair, the pads of your fingers began to cover themselves with a whitish frost, covering most of your fingers.

"Your Highness!" Jiwon rushed toward you, but before he could reach you, you stood up with the little strength you had left and ran toward the door leading to the main hallway. Your entire body felt heavy, alien to you, it was hard to run this way, but you had to do it, you didn’t know what else you were capable of in this unstable state.

Name in process… | Jeon Jungkook

Synopsis: Have you ever loved someone so intensely that just the simple act of exchanging glances with them makes your whole body tremble, your breath quicken, and your heart stop? Have you ever had the chance to meet someone with whom you’ve had such an overwhelming connection that it feels like all the books you’ve read about love finally make sense? You were sure that most people would say yes, that there was someone, a long time ago, who made them feel that suffocating sensation; but just as you were sure everyone had experienced this, you also knew that all those relationships never lasted, perhaps they never even started in the first place. It was simply that—a fleeting experience, a feeling that would remain deep within their hearts, with the hope that someday, they would feel that same love again in the future, and that it would have a happy ending, like in fairy tales.

Sadly for all those people, including yourself, fairy tales were simply that—fairy tales. Fantastical stories that make you feel they’re real, but in the end, they’re just stories.

That’s how you remembered your relationship with Jungkook. Something unreal, fantastic, like a fairy tale. It was fleeting, but full of emotions so strong that they still followed you to this day; full of memories you could still vividly relive through your dreams. He was, is, and probably always will be the only man you ever truly loved, and you were so painfully aware of that fact that, no matter how hard you tried, no relationship you ever had came even close to what you had with him.

I have more, but I feel it's already too collapsed KSKKDDKKASJD sorry.

I said I could invite some of my moots to do the same, so I'm going for my two favs of favs, my protégés, the loves of my life @thunderg and @kookiewithluv.

[tinycoded360]

Jack and the Beanstalk One-shot

Author note: You gotta do the Beanstalk story at least once, lol. My own spin and twist on a classic giant/tiny story. 

The sun dipped below the horizon as Jack Whittaker, a ten-year-old homeless boy with dirty blond hair and blue eyes, sat huddled against the cold stone wall of an alley. His tattered clothes barely protected him from the biting wind. Jack's stomach growled loudly, but he ignored it.

"Have you ever heard about the land of giants up in the clouds?" asked one of the boys, his eyes wide with excitement. "They say there's a whole world up there, just waiting to be discovered."

"Giants? In the clouds?" Jack echoed, his eyes sparkling with wonder. "What do they look like?"

"Massive! Bigger than any building you've ever seen!" replied another boy, stretching his arms wide to emphasize his point. "And they live in houses so tall, they reach the sky!"

"Imagine what treasures we could find if we could get up there," mused a third boy, his voice filled with longing.

"Treasures?" Jack's heart skipped a beat. The thought of finding something valuable enough to change his life, to lift him out of poverty, was too enticing to ignore.

"Of course! They're giants, after all. Everything they own must be worth a fortune!" said the first boy with a mischievous grin.

"Jack, you should come with us next time we go up there," one of the boys suggested, noticing the younger boy's interest.

"Really?" Jack asked hesitantly, torn between excitement and fear. The idea of climbing into the clouds to explore the land of giants was both thrilling and terrifying.

"Sure, why not?" replied the older boy, his grin growing wider. "I heard one of the older bandit guilds got their hands on some magic beans. They grew the giant stalk just north of the kingdom. It's still there; neither the giants nor kings men have cut it down yet. This is our chance!"

"Maybe...maybe I will," Jack whispered.

One day, Jack found himself surrounded by a group of older boys who were eager to embark on their next adventure

"Jack," said one of the boys, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "we're going up tonight. You've heard our stories, and I know you're curious. Don't you want to see it all for yourself?"

Jack hesitated, torn between the allure of the unknown and the fear that gripped him at the thought of facing the giants. He stared at the ground, scuffing his worn shoes against the cobblestones as he weighed his options.

"Come on, Jack," urged the first boy, slapping him on the back. "You've got nothing to be afraid of. We'll keep you safe."

"Alright," he breathed, his voice trembling with anticipation. "I'll do it. I'll climb the beanstalk with you."

"Welcome aboard!" the boys cheered, clapping him on the back and ruffling his hair.

The massive beanstalk loomed before them, its twisted tendrils reaching for the heavens like the arms of an ancient god. Jack's heart raced as he gripped the rough surface of the stalk, feeling the pulse of life beneath his fingertips.

"Remember, just follow our lead," one of the older boys whispered, his eyes shining with anticipation. "We'll have you up there in no time."

As they finally broke through the cloud barrier, a vast expanse of verdant green stretched out before them. The sight took Jack's breath away – everything was enormous, from the blades of grass that towered above him like redwoods to the insects that buzzed lazily through the air, the size of small birds.

"Come on," the first boy beckoned, gesturing toward a distant mansion that appeared to be carved from the living rock itself. "Let's claim what's ours."

As Jack tiptoed through the immense hallways, he couldn't help but marvel at the sheer scale of everything around him.

"Stay close to me," said one of the boys, noticing Jack's unease. "We'll find something valuable soon enough."

Jack nodded, swallowing hard as they pressed on, acutely aware of the danger surrounding them. What if the giants discovered their presence? Would they be crushed like insects beneath their enormous feet?

"Look!" the boy beside him hissed, pointing to a door slightly ajar, golden light spilling from its edges. "That must be where the treasure is!"

The door swung open to reveal a vast, glittering room filled with treasures beyond their wildest dreams. Jack's eyes widened as they took in the shimmering gold coins and precious gemstones.

"Quick, start grabbing what you can!" one of the boys whispered urgently, his voice cracking with excitement.

As they scrambled to pocket their loot, the ground beneath them suddenly jolted, causing Jack to stumble and drop a handful of sapphires. 

"Guys, I think we need to leave now," Jack stammered, his heart pounding.

"Too late," another boy replied, his face pale as he stared at the colossal figure that had just entered the room – the giant.

"Thieves! You dare steal from me?" the giant roared, his voice shaking the very foundations of his home. Panic set in as the boys realized they were caught, and they frantically searched for an escape route.

"Run!" Jack shouted, darting towards the nearest exit. His friends followed suit, scattering like mice before a cat.

"Come back here, you little vermin!" the giant bellowed, his massive footsteps echoing as he chased after them.

Jack's mind raced as he sprinted down the hallways, desperately trying to remember the way back to the beanstalk.

But in his haste, he took a wrong turn, finding himself at a dead end. The giant's thunderous footsteps grew closer and closer, and Jack knew there was no way out.

"Caught you, little thief!" the giant bellowed, reaching down to snatch Jack up in his massive hand. As the other boys continued their frantic escape, Jack stared in terror at the enormous face looming above him, knowing that he was truly alone.

The giant's eyes burned with rage as he stared down at Jack, his tiny form trembling in the grip of the massive fist. "What were you thinking, stealing from me?" the giant demanded, his voice thundering through the room.

"Please...I didn't mean any harm," Jack stammered, tears streaming down his face as he looked up at the gargantuan figure above him. The disparity between them was overwhelming.

For a moment, the giant's expression softened ever so slightly as he considered the fear-filled face of the human child before him. "You're just a kid," he muttered, although his tone remained harsh. "But that doesn't excuse your actions."

"Please, sir, I'll do anything to make it right," Jack pleaded, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew that the other boys had managed to escape, leaving him to face the consequences alone.

"Fine," the giant grumbled. "You will work off your debt to me."

Jack resigned himself to his fate as the giant's prisoner. He was carried to a small cage in the corner of an enormous room and locked inside.

The giant man leaned down so he could peer into the cage.

“My name is Argus. You can call me Sir or Master Argus. Now, if you listen well, we’ll have no problems, do you understand?” Argus gruffly asked his tiny captive.

Jack quickly nodded, not wanting to upset the giant man.

“What’s your name, boy?”

“J…. Jack….Sir.”

“Humph, I’d say nice to meet you, but considering you’re a little thief, it’s not.” Argus grumpily grumped. “Now what ever I ask you to do, I expect it to be done, or I will have to punish you.”

Jack nodded his head again, not wanting to gain his wrath.

“Good, now you’ll sleep here tonight. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

***

True to his word, the giant kept Jack busy, forcing him to perform various tasks around the house. Jack was often caged or leashed by a collar around his neck, the gold chain connecting him to the giant's wrist like an unbreakable bond. When the leash was on, Jack had no choice but to sit in the giant's palm, feeling utterly helpless and vulnerable. Argus wasn’t too rough with him. Seeming to take great pains not to crush him. He even made sure Jack got a bath and clean clothing. Jack hated to admit it, but the giant kept him well-fed as well. When Jack gathered the courage to ask about the leash and collar. Argus just chuckled, saying he'll take it off when Jack has earned his trust.

"Hand me that paintbrush," the giant ordered one day, sitting at his desk. Jack, for once not attached to the leash, was given free roam of the giant’s desk. Argus knew full well that the tiny thief couldn’t get down on his own.

Jack grabbed the requested brush with shaky hands and handed it up, his entire body quivering at the thought of accidentally dropping it.

"Good," the giant grunted, using the brush to add delicate details to his canvas. Jack couldn't help but admire the skillful strokes from such massive hands. "Now, hold still. I want to paint your portrait."

As Jack obeyed, he couldn't help but wonder if this was his life now – serving a colossal master, forever bound in servitude. His thoughts turned to the other boys, who were undoubtedly in their own world again, free and enjoying the treasure they stole. It was unlikely the other boys would come to save him. They probably believed his bones were ground up to make the giant's bread. Or they simply did not care enough to risk their lives for him, a simple street rat. Despair settled heavily on his heart as he realized there was no going back for him.

For a while, Jack was despondent, missing his freedom and his friends back home. But gradually, as days turned into weeks, his curiosity got the better of him. He started asking the giant questions about his people and their world. Though gruff, the giant seemed pleased by Jack's interest and would spend hours telling the boy tales of his ancestors.

Argus would often scoop Jack up in his colossus hands and place him on his shoulder as he talked to the boy. Jack felt like a parrot on the giant shoulder, perched there. He had no choice but to grip the giant’s shirt. While listening to Argus talk about his society and history, he felt less afraid of the giant man. Maybe the giant wasn’t as terrible as the stories made him out to be.

The sun was setting as Jack sat on Argus’s shoulder. The giant sat on the hill overlooking the breathtaking expanse of the world below. From this vantage point, nestled among the cottony clouds, Jack marveled at the beauty of the land he had only ever known from the ground.

"Um, excuse me," Jack whispered, tugging at the strands of Argus’s beard. He had scooted closer to the giant’s neck. "I... I need to tell you something."

The giant tilted his head, trying to look down at his tiny companion, a mixture of curiosity and concern etching itself onto his rugged features. "What is it, little one?"

Jack swallowed hard, steeling himself for what he was about to confess. "I... I'm sorry for stealing from you when I first came here. It was wrong, and I shouldn't have done it."

"Thank you for your apology, Jack," the giant said gently, a hint of sadness in his voice. "It takes courage to admit one's mistakes."

Jack felt a wave of relief wash over him. "I want to make things right," he continued, his voice barely a whisper. "And... I want to go home."

Argus frowned. “And what will stop you from returning to thievery? Can you even survive on your own? From what you’ve told me, you were a homeless child begging on the streets.”

Jack flinched at the harsh words. “I won’t, I promise. I’ve learned my lesson!”

“Boy, your human world isn’t as kind as I’ve been. I’ve heard they hang thieves, even as young as you, for stealing. Sometimes, they take their hands.”

Jack hunched his shoulders up to his ears. He found it hard to argue. When he saw it happen to other thieves in his group.

“So, I’m waiting. What will you do to survive on your own? Hmmm?”

Jack felt his lip tremble. “I’ll get a job!”

“Will you know? With what skills…. what kind of job can you do?”

“I…... I’ll…. figure something out! You’re being mean!” Jack cried, feeling anger burn in his gut.

Jack yelped in surprise and fear as Argus reached for him. His humongous fingers curled around his tiny form, pushing him into the giant palm. The giant fingers curl around him, forming a fist trapping Jack there. Jack found himself pressed against Argus’s chest.

“Hmmm, I guess I’ll have to teach you then.” Jack could feel Argus’s words rumble in his chest.

“Really? Then will you let me go?” Jack asked with a bit of hope in his voice.

“Only if you learn well,” Argus warned.

Over the next few weeks, the giant man took it upon himself to teach Jack lessons that would prove invaluable in his world. Jack's days were filled with tasks ranging from cooking and cleaning to gardening and sewing. The giant observed him closely, offering guidance and gentle corrections as he worked.

When it was time for bed, Argus gently placed Jack on a pillow on the nightstand instead of the cage. Smiling up at the giant, Jack felt happier than he had in a long time. He was no longer a prisoner here but a friend.

After months go by Jack feels confident and comfortable. One night at dinner Jack decided to confront Argus, asking to be let go.

Jack felt like a tiny mouse sitting before a giant lion as it ate its meal. Jack was thankful Argus had no interest in eating him.

“Have I done well, Master Argus? Have I learned the life skills you’ve given me?” Jack asked once he got his courage. He tried to ask it politely, sweatily, hoping to gain favor from the giant.

“Hmm, you have. You’ve done very well.”

Jack smiles brightly. “So, does this mean you can let me go? And take me back down to the human realm?” Argus was the only one that could take Jack down there. The giant had poisoned the beanstalk, making it wither. No one could go up or back down. But Argus seemed to be the gatekeeper of sorts. He could plant a new one if he wanted to. Otherwise, Jack would have tried to escape long ago. But with the beanstalk gone, there was no point in risking his life in a giant world where giant animals could eat him, or another giant could find him and maybe live up to the stories and grind his bones into bread.

Jack's smile faded as the giant's massive fingers curled around him, enclosing him firmly but gently. He looked up, confused, as Argus picked him up and brought him close to his face.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked.

Argus regarded him solemnly. "I have reconsidered. You are not yet ready for the world below."

"But you said-" Jack protested, pushing against the giant's grip.

"The human world is filled with danger and temptation," Argus rumbled. "You are still a boy. I will keep you here until you come of age."

Jack's heart sank. "How long?"

"Eight years. When you reach eighteen, you will be a man fully formed and can fend for yourself."

"No!" Jack cried, tears stinging his eyes. Eight years as a prisoner, even a pampered one, was unbearable. "Please, I want to go home!"

The giant shook his great head. "My mind is set, little one. Do not fight your destiny." Argus gently smoothed Jack's messy hair out of his eyes. Jack tried not to flinch as the giant finger pushed back his hair. “Don’t look so sad. You won’t be a prisoner. You’re just a kid. Think of this as an apprenticeship. This is more than you would get down there.”

Exhausted, Jack slumped in the giant's grasp.

“How will I not be a prisoner? You’re keeping me here against my will!?” Jack asked, his anger getting the best of him.

“Hmmm, I promise, no more cages, collars, and leashes. I’m only keeping you safe as my ward, ok? I’ll even set you up with your own room in the west wing.”

Jack looked up in surprise at this, locking eyes with Argus. “Really? I’d get my own room?” Jack asked. He had trouble imagining it. He’d get his own giant-sized room. More space than he’d ever have on earth.

“Yes. It will be your own space. I’ll even make some tiny doors for you and other ways for you to get around.” Argus was looking at him with a soft look. Which was rare for the grumpy giant.

Jack relented with a huff and a warm fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad here. Argus had become like a father to him in some ways. He was stern, but he had protected and taught Jack a lot.

So, Jack would make the best of it. And when the day came that Argus unleashed him on the world below, he would be ready.