#dom 1

[bewitched-tinea]

𝓓𝓸𝓶𝔂 𝔀 𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓲𝓲 𝔀𝓼𝓹𝓸́ł𝓬𝔃𝓮𝓼𝓷𝓮𝓳

𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝟏

Znaczenie, objaśnienie & spis tematyki Seria | Eseje z astrologii |

Ten wpis stanowi jedynie mini ściągawkę tematyczną. Swego rodzaju fiszkę, która pomoże Wam zrozumieć tematykę sektorów w interpretacji znaczeniowej. Czyli jak w interpretacji poezji - są symbole językowe, które trzeba rozgryźć i odkodować. A dopiero potem dokonać analizy przesłania i wyciągnąć wnioski.

Wpis ten nie zast��pi aktywnej, kreatywnej i praktycznej interpretacji sektorów w kosmogramie! Wpis nie zawiera omówienia domów z perspektywy jakości, grupy zodiakalnej i polaryzacji. Moje opracowanie zawiera znaczenia tematyczne domów & jest oparte o astrologię współczesną, nurt astropsychologii & elementy astrologii ewolucyjnej. Więc to co tu przeczytacie może się różnić od zdania innych astrologów - nie każdy używa tej samej gałęzi astrologii, co ja; tego samego nurtu co ja i tych samych perspektyw interpretacyjnych, jakich ja używam!

Ogólne przyporządkowanie domów do znaków zodiaku:

dom 1- sektor barana ♈︎ (<- ten omawiamy dzisiaj) dom 2- sektor byka ♉︎ dom 3- sektor bliźniąt ♊︎ dom 4- sektor raka ♋︎ dom 5- sektor lwa ♌︎ dom 6- sektor panny ♍︎ dom 7- sektor wagi ♎︎ dom 8- sektor skorpiona ♏︎ dom 9- sektor strzelca ♐︎ dom 10- sektor koziorożca ♑︎ dom 11- sektor wodnika ♒︎ dom 12- sektor ryb ♓︎

Przyporządkowanie domów kosmogramu do znaków zodiaku jest dość nowoczesną ideą, typową dla astrologii współczesnej. W tradycyjnej nie znajdziecie takiej perspektywy interpretacyjnej!

{Jeżeli w trakcie czytania naszły Cię jakieś pytania to zadaj je klikając w przycisk "zapytaj wyroczni" na moim profilu tumblr.} Tematy i obszary tematyczne 1 sektora kosmogramu.

Autoprezentacja, pierwszy kontakt innych ludzi z posiadaczem kosmogramu. To, jakie wywierasz pierwsze wrażenie na innej osobie. Pojęcie "1-szego wrażenia" nie jest jednowymiarowe i nie dotyczy jedynie wyglądu. Przypomnij sobie ostatni raz, gdy poznałeś kogoś nowego. Nie musi to być to "poważne" spotkanie i oficjalne podawanie sobie ręki. Sam moment pierwszego kontaktu, styku.

Na co zwróciłxś uwagę? Na kolor oczu tej osoby skanując wzrokiem jej wygląd? Na styl ubioru? A może na mimikę, którą pokazała jej twarz? Patrzyło jej z oczu dobrze? Czy ta osoba była charyzmatyczna i tryskała energią? A może sprawiała wrażenie melancholika? Dużo mówiła, czy raczej słuchała? I w końcu: Czy umiesz określić (sumując do kupy wszystkie obserwacje) jaki ta osoba ma stosunek do życia, nowych sytuacji? Jaką postawę ma w stosunku do rozkręcania nowych pomysłów w życie? Jaki rodzaj "energii sprawczej" posiada?

Jak widzisz pierwsze wrażenie nie jest tylko oceną czyjegoś wyglądu. W astrologii również. Jest to związane ze specyfiką 1 domu. Składają się na nią: jakość i powiązanie tego sektora ze znakiem Barana. A Baran jest również ognisty i "męski" (nie bierzemy tego podziału "płciowego" dosłownie).

I te zależności przekładają się na charakterystykę 1 domu. Oczywiście z uwzględnieniem jego funkcji interpretacyjnej (jako części kosmogramu & części "składowej" pełnego ułożenia na kosmogramie. A to też nie jest ze sobą tożsame!). Sektory są od czegoś innego niż znaki zodiaku w astrologii współczesnej. Nie mylimy ich funkcji ani roli, jaką pełnią w interpretacjach!

Przez to, że 1 dom jest związany z 1 wrażeniem (które jest wielopłaszczyznowe) to jego tematyka również będzie obejmowała różne płaszczyzny:

Wygląd zewnętrzny, fizyczność & elementy "pierwszego odbioru":

charakterystyka głosu - (ton, wysokość) to w jaki sposób osoba używa go do ekspresji podświadomej (a przez to naturalnej) siebie i swojego ja. Czy osoba jest gadatliwa, cicha (a może jeszcze coś innego - ile ludzi tyle opcji);

preferencje dotyczące wyglądu (ubiór, fryzura) - czy dana osoba ma "wyczucie" stylu czy nie, jaki "vibe" mają ubrania i akcesoria, typ fryzury, który lubi i nosi. Jak całość stylu i sposobu prezentacji poprzez modę.

Rysy twarzy i kształt twarzy, wielkość głowy, kształt oczu, ich osadzenie i odległość od siebie. Typowe/ specyficzne dla tej osoby elementy twarzy (w zależności od znaku zodiaku oczywiście. Każdy będzie podkreślał co innego na buzi człowieka).

Ogólna charakterystyka sylwetki/ figura - to jest akurat zależne od cech znaku zodiaku, które nie są fizyczne pierwszolanowo. Ale efekt tych cech uwidacznia się np. z czasem w sylwetce człowieka. Dla przykładu- Baran w 1 domu może wskazywać na osobę, dla której aktywność fizyczna (typowo sportowa) jest naturalna. Jeśli biega będzie to widać po łydkach i udach (ich wygląd, jak są zbudowane mięśniowo). Jeśli lubi chodzić na siłownie i ćwiczyć z ciężarami to stopniowo zbuduje mięśnie, co także da się zauważyć "gołym okiem". Dodatkowo: tendencja dodanego typu sylwetki i zachowania jej w sposób "naturalny".

Osobista autoprezentacja zewnętrzna i wewnętrzna:

Zewnętrzna: będzie więc dotyczyć stylu (czy dana osoba go ma, jaki, jak wygląda, co w nim łączy itd.), schludności w wyglądzie (lub jej braku), makijażu, to jakie włosy nosi. jak to wszystko razem wygląda dodane do siebie. Sylwetka, jakie ciało jest wizualnie (szczupłe, zbudowane, rozrośnięte mięśnie, czy ktoś jest przy kości itd.). Gestykulacja, mowa ciała, mimika twarzy (czy ktoś jest ekspresyjny, jeśli tak to w jaki sposób), reaktywność ciała.

Drugi rodzaj autoprezentacji to kwestie związane z ukazaniem się wewnętrznych cech - jaki ktoś ma temperament, jak operuje głosem (co dzięki niemu ukazuje- emocje, nastawienie do świata, wewnętrzną "burzę" itd.) i charyzmę . To też postawa dotycząca rozpoczynania nowych spraw w życiu oraz inicjatywa do podejmowania się nowych wyzwań, zdolność do przejmowania inicjatywy w ogóle. Co jest związane z naturalnym temperamentem i charyzmą jednostki.

Ogólny stan "witalności" człowieka:

Stan ciała, który wynika z naturalnej "energii" jaką ktoś przejawia. Konsekwencje wizualne ogólnej sprawności witalnej/ żywotności człowieka. Naturalne reakcje na zewnętrzne zdarzenia: Mimowolne odruchy na bodźce (np. wzdrygasz się całym ciałem, gdy ktoś Cię zaskoczy czy może wydajesz okrzyk zdziwienia? O takie detaliczne "sposoby" reakcji chodzi) Podświadome "ja" człowieka: Czyli zbiór cech, postawa, poglądy i wszystko inne, co tworzy człowieka. To "ja", które przychodzi naturalnie i jest "pierwszą wersją" charakteru. To podświadoma i naturalna część, którą wychwytują inni ludzie. Na te cechy zwracają uwagę w pierwszej kolejności przy poznaniu / zawieraniu znajomości z nową osobą. Ta podświadoma część może być dla niezauważalna i/ lub nieoczywista la jej posiadacza. Jako, że 1 dom jest następstwem sektora 12-tego (podświadomość, głębia, to co ukryte), można powiedzieć, że podświadoma część charakteru człowieka (ta bardziej intymna, prywatna) "transferuje" się do tej części nastawionej na ekspozycję społeczną. Stąd inne osoby mogą z łatwością wyłapać Twoje podświadome "ja", z którego Ty niekoniecznie zajesz sobie sprawę (co oczywiście nie znaczy, że ciągle będziesz żyć w samo-nieświadomości". Wszystko do się wypracować. To zależy od Twojego podejścia i chęć do wykonania kroków potrzebnych do poszerzenia wiedzy o sobie) Jeżeli w trakcie czytania naszły Cię jakieś pytania to zadaj je klikając w przycisk "zapytaj wyroczni" na moim profilu tumblr.

[prettyboybun]

I am genuinely always thinking about being one of a pair of subs. I'm the obedient bunny, he's the bratty puppy.

Our dom has us kneel for him in the living room after having teased us all day. "Alright, listen, sweet things. I know you're all riled up for me, but I need to go to the store. When I get back, I'll use you both properly, okay?"

We nod, my pup partner squirming already, wiggling his hips. Our dom continues, "You are NOT to touch yourselves until I get back. Got it?"

I nod sweetly, and get my hair ruffled affectionately in return. My sub partner, on the other hand, bites his lip with a glint in his eye, nodding slowly. You could almost hear the cogs turning. Our dom partner gives him a look, but inevitably ruffles his hair as well. "Okay. I'll be back soon, I promise."

We sit still and kneel in the living room until the front door closes and we hear him driving away. Suddenly, my partner pounces on top of me. He's already rutting against my thigh and pressing kisses all over my face and neck.

"B-But," I gasp, "Sir, he said to- He wants us to-"

"I know, baby boy, but I need you so bad right now, he's not gonna have to know," He says, against my neck, "You like this, don't you?"

I groan, "Yes, of course I do, I want you so bad... but I wanna be good for sir..."

"Just don't touch yourself, sweetheart. That's what he said, right? Don't touch yourselves? I'm sure that means I can touch you."

I ponder it for a little bit. Eventually, I nod, biting my lip. I'm still unsure if this is going against sir's wishes, but feeling my puppy boyfriend rutting against me, lips on my neck... It just feels too good after a whole morning of teasing and denial.

Puppy leans up and whispers in my ear, "Good boy." I shiver, hairs standing on end.

I let him manhandle me roughly into the position he wants, which turns out to be frotting our tdicks together. I'm laying on the floor, pinned, whimpering, feeling a little guilty at technically disobeying, but mostly lost in the pleasure.

My puppy looks down at me and says, "Don't cum, either, bunny. You have to wait til sir gets back for that one, definitely."

I nod, breathless. Then I open my eyes and look at him questioningly, "What about you?"

He smirks and rakes his claws down the center of my chest, leaving four pretty red scratches. I moan, and he says, "I can take whatever he's gonna dish. Don't you worry your pretty little head- After all, who's making the rules right now?"

I whimper, "Y-You, sir."

"Good boy."

We stay like that, him roughly grinding into me as I whine and moan beneath him. Eventually, though, the door opens, and I gasp and try to squirm out of my puppy's grip. We weren't supposed to still be playing when he got back. But puppy isn't relenting, he's still rocking his hips sharply against me.

"What do we have here?" Our dom says, a little amused. He surely would have guessed this would happen.

Puppy grunts as he continues grinding on me, "Welcome back, sir." I look at him and he's looking him dead in the eyes, smirking.

"Oh, puppy. Just couldn't wait, could you?" Sir sets down the grocery bags on a table, and walks over and picks pup off me with ease.

I start scrambling to sit up, but my dom presses his boot to my chest and gently lays me back down. "Still, bun, stay here. Let me deal with our boy and then I'll be back for you, okay?" I nod, looking up at him with soft eyes. "There's a good boy."

For a little while, behind me, I hear struggling, teasing, and soft moans. Then, my dom comes back over to me and lifts me up into his arms, walking us over to his armchair. This is when I see that our puppy is tied up spread open on the couch, gagged, but noticeably drippy and empty. Sir sits me down in his chair on his lap, facing puppy.

"Spread your legs, bunny," He murmurs into my ear. I do as he asks immediately, earning a quiet, "Good boy..." In response.

I turn my head to look at him and start saying, "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to disobey, I-"

He shushes me, petting my hair, "Oh, bunny, that's not your fault. I know you need touched, puppy just decided that it was his responsibility to do so. Isn't that right, pup?"

Puppy says something in snarky defiance, surely, muffled against his gag. "Exactly. I know you're my good boy, bun. That's why I'm gonna overstimulate you on my lap right now while your pup watches and can't do anything about it." My eyes widen, starry. I see that sir is smirking at puppy. Our pup squirms and growls against his bonds.

I lean back against our dom's chest, also looking at puppy as I begin to have my tdick touched, softly at first. Then, he applies pressure, making me moan quietly. Teasingly, he uses his fingers to spread my bunnycunt open on display at pup.

"Doesn't he look so pretty like this, puppy?" At this point, our pup is ravenously trying to get out of his bonds, but he's tied up too tightly. Sir adopts a fake pity tone as he says, "Aw, I know, puppy. You just wanna use him so bad, don't you?"

Sir plunges a finger inside me and curls it, making me gasp and moan loudly, "That's it, good bunny. Let every sound out, I want him to hear how good I make you feel."

I do as he asks, making obscene sounds as his fingers fuck in and out of me, thumb circling my tdick. He growls gently in my ear, "You need to tell me when you're close, okay, bunny?"

"I- um- I'm close sir, so close for you, sir," I babble, already feeling so overwhelmed with sensation.

"Cum for us, bunny. Cum all over my fingers." I clench down and shudder, crying out and cumming all over his hand. He doesnt take his fingers out, but he gives me a little bit of time to breathe before he starts fucking me again.

Eventually, I cum the same way again. Then a third, and a fourth time, stacking them back to back against each other. After I've cum five times, I'm absolutely spent. He takes his fingers out, cleans them off, and pets my hair and shoulders, letting me slump against him bonelessly.

Our puppy has given up on getting out of his restraints, but he's whining softly, looking at us with big eyes. Sir motions for me to kneel down on the floor, and I do so, a little slumped.

He walks over to puppy and plays with his dripping hole as he says, "Good boy, good puppy. You took that so well, I know that was difficult. Are you ready for your reward?" Puppy nods, frantically. "Come here, bunny, kneel in front of him."

I happily crawl over, kneeling in front of my pup, smiling softly at him. Sir takes his gag out and says, "Tell him what you want, pup. Nicely, if you would, our boy is a little overwhelmed as you might imagine."

"Pl... Please suck my tdick, bunny."

I oblige, glad to have him down my throat. He throws his head back and moans as I start to flick my tongue. Sir teases his nipples for a while, watching me service him. "Such good boys, both of you. You're both so good for me, I'm so proud of you, so proud to be your owner."

Eventually, sir takes my head and starts fucking my mouth on puppy's dick. Puppy moans louder than ever, babbling about how good it feels, thanking us both. Sir fucks my throat on it harder, growling, "That's it. Take it, take it, both of you."

I moan into his tdick, sending loud vibrations straight through him. Puppy jerks his hips up in time with my mouth bobbing on him, crying out, "Sir, I'm gonna cum!"

"Cum for me, puppy, cum down his throat," I can hear sir whisper in his ear. Pup cums explosively down my throat, covering my face in it.

Sir gently pulls my head off, as I stare off in a subspace daze. Puppy is panting, as our dom makes quick work of untying him, "Good boys. You're both so good for me, took that all so well."

He lies puppy back on the couch against him, and motions for me to lay on him as well. I jump up, eager to get snuggled after all that intense play, and he chuckles sweetly at me. Sir pets my hair when I get nestled into his embrace, "Good boy, there you go. Much better, love having both my sweet boys in my arms."

Puppy leans up to kiss me gently on the forehead. They both keep praising me and each other, and I deliver slurred praise back where I can, eventually drifting off peacefully in their safe embrace.

[changetyre]

Heyyyy I just read something with Lando and he says “I wasn’t asking” and I’m going to need moreeee please & thank you 😍

F*ck you!!! || Lando Norris x Reader ⒽⓌ

SUMMARY: You absolutely despise the way Lando can having you screaming in anger and then pleasure in a matter of seconds…right? Part 1 Here

WARNINGS: **18+**, hate sex

A/N: I love me some hate sex, denying your feelings kinda fics

It was the worse feeling in the world, no doubt. Your first victory was right there, your hands ready to grasp it you could touch it with the tip of your fingers only for it to be ripped away from you.

The race had gone perfectly, exactly as you’d planned both you and your team had done an excellent job in what was undeniably one if the not the best race of your career, making your way up from P12 after a bad qualifying.

No further action

You read and re read the text ready to waltz into that damned stewards office and give them a piece of mind right before lighting the damn building on fire. That’s the amount of rage you felt right now.

Some part of you was absolutely ready to spend the rest of your life behind bars if it weren’t for that idiot of a man you so very much loved to fuck showed up in your drivers room.

“What the fuck do you want?” You scoffed, right about ready to slap him too.

He’d been the cause of it, happily taking the victory for himself without a care that he’d cost you your race and first and well deserved victory completely.

“I came to apologize.” Lando spoke, a smirk on his face that you wanted to wipe off but a fucked up part of you still enjoyed.

“Fuck off.” You shoved him out of the way as you continued grabbing your things scattered around the room to pack them.

“I am really sorry.” Lando repeated.

“Right you really did look sorry when you were happily spraying champagne up on the podium posing for any camera that pointed your way.” You bit back.

“Let me make it up to you then.” Lando grabbed your waist stoping you from moving around the room.

“Don’t touch me.” Lando almost believed you meant it if it weren’t for the fact you made no attempt whatsoever to get his hands off you.

“Wanna touch me instead baby?” That stupid confident smirk appeared on his face again.

“Fuck you!” You huffed angrily looking up at him.

“I bet you do.” Lando laughed before pushing his lip on yours.

You moaned in annoyance but once again didn’t try hard to push him away. Lando basked in the way you accepted it and tried fighting for dominance with your lips which only for today he’d be okay with giving you.

“I hate you.” You whispered as you yanked Lando’s hair back allowing you to trail your lips down his neck.

“I bet you do baby.” Lando only spurred you on as he felt you leaving marks across his skin.

“I do…so fucking much.” You almost moaned the words this time as you ripped Lando’s shirt off him letting your lips continue their journey downwards before yanking his pants down too.

“Show me how much darling.” Lando knew he had to be quiet, despite the fact that your little adventures weren’t secret to many anymore being victims of your loud ventures around the paddock after a day like today it didn’t seem wise to give people more to talk about.

You didn’t feel like prepping him, you quite frankly didn’t care for anything other than taking out your frustration on him, to make him whine and ache at your hands.

So as you began harshly sucking on his length you basked in the way his knees buckled from under him forcing him to find the nearest support to keep himself upright.

He tried to sit down but you were quick to deny him that luxury.

“You sit down and I’ll stop.” You threatened and you reveled in the way he obeyed, straightening up and his eyes begging for more.

Your own cheeks hurt with how hard you sucked him and you knew he wouldn’t last long, and you watched for the tell tale signs carefully.

“Sh*t that’s so good baby.” Lando panted as he gathered your hair in a ponytail.

His head fell back in pleasure, as he tried his hardest to contain the loud moans that wanted to escape his lips.

“I’m almost there…keep going…ah…ugh!” Lando’s groans got louder.

Just as he was about to release you stopped.

“WHAT THE-“ Lando absolutely hated the feeling, the ache that settled in his core with his pleasure being ripped away right at the last second.

“Feels shit doesn’t it.” You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“You little-“ Lando hated the fact that he for 1 second believed you’d make him feel good and forget about today.

“Have fun taking care of that.” You poked Lando’s rock-hard dick before getting up, grabbing your bags and leaving him.

[spicyraeman]

It's so funny to me that some people are so desperate for Lae'zel to be this dominant older wise warrior type, especially when like bestie Minthara is literally right there. Sry, but this stressed out 22 yo is not gonna give you the mommy dommy experience you crave

[niluffa]

୨୧ “ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 ! ” — masterlist

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 : five times satoru has said your name with different kinds of emotions, and one time he said your name softly.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 : fluff, friends to lovers, angst, smut, s2 spoilers, sub!satoru, dom!fem!reader, riding, praise, dacryphilia (lots of crying), handjob, two orgasms, creampie, small aftercare

𝐖. 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 8,0k

𝐀𝐔𝐓. 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : this took a ridiculous amount of time, and i’m still not satisfied with it !! :(

you gulped at the “welcome to jujutsu high” sign standing tall at the entrance of the school you were transferred to just a few days ago. apparently, it was due to your ‘ability to see curses’—mind you, what the hell was a curse anyway?

sure, some strange creatures always kept peeking out from behind the buildings whenever you were on your way to school or back, but you always thought you were just a bit insane. or at least, that’s what your parents, who couldn’t see curses, always told you.

years of therapy that you didn’t even need were hopeless to shut down your worries, and you sometimes wonder if you were just as out of your mind as everybody, even your friends think.

“aliens? cut that crap out, [name]!” they would laugh at you.

the information you have spilled to your therapist somehow reached yaga, the principal of the school you were walking through at the very moment, who wasted no time to reach out to you, happy to explain every one of your questions.

well, he wasn’t exactly happy to realize yet another bright teenager like you will spend years of torture and the burden of being a sorcerer, building up friendships just to watch them drop dead one by one—only to end up like them.

he didn’t tell you that because he knew you were already aware of the amount of pain you would go through once you accepted your position as a student at jujutsu high.

but it was worth a try, right?

you were currently following the principal. he told you to just stay quiet and let him introduce you to your new classmates and future mission partners.

the door into the classroom was slammed open by yaga, and his cold and stoic face matched his deep voice that echoed through the room, “good morning─”

“good morning, sensei!” a white-haired male yells from his seat, his grin spreading from one ear to another. your jaw dropped when you took a good look at him.

he was drop-dead gorgeous.

the iconic glasses he always used to wear were abandoned on his desk to reveal his vibrant blue eyes that could kill by the way they lit up the whole room—which was lowkey a bit creepy. nevertheless, the shade of the blue was just so hypnotic that you couldn’t look away.

the boy’s six eyes immediately get triggered under your stare, and he wastes no time to let his dramatic side out.

“sensei—” the male begins, taking a big inhale, and your face already cringes when you realize his plan is nothing else but to yell at the top of his lungs, “she’s staring!”

the classroom falls dead silent, and you watch the other male with a bun slap the back of the white-haired’s head. the girl next to them sat unbothered, her lips pursing at the awkward silence.

“satoru . . .” yaga warns him, making the boy flinch and shrink back to his seat with a wobbly but embarrassed smile that shows how much he’s prepared for the whole hour of scolding from the principal later.

the older man sighs, “this is your new classmate, [name].”

you stand in front of the board in silence as yaga begins to explain some things that are not related to you—instead, you pay attention to the gazes of the trio you just learned to recognize as your classmates.

a brunette girl on your right, closest to the window. a guy with a bun who was sitting in the middle. and, of course, a white-haired guy closest to the door. maybe that is why your eyes landed on him the second you stepped in.

from what you could tell, the black-haired male held zero judgment towards you by the way he offered you a friendly smile that made his eyes curl into the shape of a crescent moon. he looked kind, and you smiled back.

the girl was questionable at first. she looked up and down at you, and for a second, you were afraid her face would do the twist of disgust, and she would roll her eyes as most of the girls in your school did—but she didn’t. instead, she offered you the same smile the boy on her right did.

the white-haired male—satoru, as yaga mentioned—was a bit different. his reaction was rather interesting. aside from yelling at the top of his lungs that you were staring at him, he did exactly what you expected from the girl on the left.

“[name]?” satoru huffs in annoyance. he stared at you with a pout, his face twisting. but it wasn’t a judgmental twist that would make you burst out in tears and run away from the room—even when you didn’t say a single word, and your voice was still unknown to him.

“i don’t like her,” satoru huffs proudly. the attention he was expecting was far away from reality than he would like to admit. angry look from yaga, an annoyed look from his two other classmates, and a sad look from you.

maybe this was a sign for him to never speak again.

“suguru,” satoru whispered harshly, nudging his elbow into the boy’s side, who was already sending him an ‘are you serious’ look, “back me up!”

suguru clicked his tongue, “raise your hand if you care.”

the silence that fell right after suguru’s words was so damn awkward that even you couldn’t help but feel bad for the amount of embarrassment satoru must have felt after not a single person in the room raised their hand. his head hung low in shame, the sound of his forehead slamming against the desk only making others roll their eyes.

“i apologize for satoru’s behavior, [name]. please, feel free to take a seat.” yaga says, but immediately finds the issue of why you never sat down—the only available spot was right next to satoru. yaga clears his throat.

“suguru? shoko? please,” the principal didn’t have to repeat himself twice for the two of them to nod and switch their seats so that you could be as far as possible from satoru and his bratty personality.

the rest of the class period was quiet, but you could feel satoru’s gaze on you almost every five minutes—just about every time yaga turned his back to all four of you to write something on the board. so as soon as the teacher lifted the piece of chalk to write something, satoru had his head snapped in your direction.

“ignore him,” shoko whispered since even though satoru wasn’t looking at her, his gaze was so easy to pick up that even yaga, who had turned around for a while, knew what was going on behind his back.

after what felt like forever, the class came to an end—that couldn’t be said the same for satoru’s non-stopping stare that went on and on for the past hour without breaking. but once you found the courage to make eye contact with him, he was a long time gone.

you sigh in defeat and wonder if maybe next time you will be able to talk to satoru normally without him him having the need of digging blades into you with his stare.

“hey,” shoko spoke, “can i get your number?”

the weekend followed. you questioned why you had to be transferred to the school on friday and why they just couldn’t let you stay home for the weekend and then show you the school—but who are you to wander into yaga’s office and complain.

when shoko texted you just some location of a random street without telling you any context or clues, anxiety began to rise within your body. funny how a simple “meet us there” was able to shake you up so much.

no, they won’t kidnap you and beat you until death just because satoru was too picky with his choices of making new friends—you had to insure yourself.

“hey, you came!” shoko cheers as soon as you come into her vision, and you tell yourself that it wasn’t so bad, you were just overthinking again. a special habit you had for the longest time, “i’m glad you did.”

suguru nods with that same kind smile and adds, “we were afraid you wouldn’t show up.”

you smiled at their words, genuinely grateful you won’t spend all your sorcerer years as a punching bag for some mean kids who were raised without any sort of manners.

there were two other people, both male. the blonde one introduced himself quietly but with a hint of respect while the brunette one just shook your hand, looking like he was about to burst from having too much energy.

“we’ll go check the movie seats. wait here, okay?” shoko waved, and you nodded, soon enough finding yourself a nice empty bench while the other four entered the movie theater.

the streets were quiet, and you had to admit that it was quite relaxing. not until you heard heavy footsteps and a very familiar voice rushing right in your direction. you cursed under your breath.

“nooo! they went inside already?!” satoru dramatically collapses right next to you, the plastic bag that he was holding landing right on top of your lap. fortunately, none of the things ended up broken.

after satoru was done with his fake sobbing and whining about how he “checked the time multiple times” and “how dare they go inside without him”, he took the bag from your lap to his to open it.

“i’m sorry. about uh,” satoru clears his throat, “yesterday.”

for a second, you froze. apology from satoru gojo himself? oh, you were so flattered you could yell it out from the rooftops. but truth be told, you weren’t affected by his yesterday act at all. maybe that has something to do with your “people’s people” personality.

“oh, no, no!” you wave it off. satoru hears your voice for the first time, and he’s shocked about how sweet and gentle it sounds, “it’s okay, really─”

“no, i’m serious,” satoru cuts you off before you have the chance to rant about how truly you didn’t care and that sometimes, first impressions just don’t go as many people would like them to be, and that’s okay.

“i brought you this as an apology. i hope you like sweets as much as i do!” the sorcerer shoots you the same grin he did yesterday when greeting yaga. “please accept it. it was the last piece.”

satoru hands you a plastic box of edamame and cream kikufuku—a small tag hung from the side of it, and the price that was supposed to be on it was harshly ripped apart so you were unable to tell how much he spent.

you hummed, “thank you, gojo—”

“satoru. please, call me satoru.”

“okay, satoru.” you smile, feeling happy with the whole situation. at first, he was an asshole who looked like he wanted to throw you out of the classroom just because you were breathing, and now, he spent god-knowing how much yen just to buy you an apology gift.

“hey, the movie is starting—oh, satoru!” suguru’s smile got wider at the sight of his best friend and you sitting next to each other, satoru’s favorite kikufuku flavor on your lap.

satoru, immediately after hearing suguru’s voice, grinned and jumped up from his seat. you came running right after them, tightly holding the sweet dessert the white-haired boy had bought you close to your chest as if it was the most precious and important thing in the whole world.

the movie was, in your opinion, boring. supposedly, it was a famous summer horror that your classmates, along with haibara and nanami, wanted to see for the longest time.

the plot wasn’t even that bad, and it had the potential to be interesting if it wasn’t for the poor choice of actors in the movie. the budget was low too, and it showed. so the only thing you really could do was stare at the poor attempts of what was supposed to be a jumpscare.

“oh, man . . .” satoru groaned from beside you and gave in to the impulse thought of spreading his long, aching limbs everywhere they could fit—because he was the strongest, who was gonna stop him when his spreading arms would block their vision of the threader screen?

“this movie is boring!” the sorcerer was now spread all over his seat, your seat, and also you. the boy takes good notice of how you didn’t even look at him when his legs landed right on your lap and how you continued to stare at the screen with a blank expression.

satoru decided to push his luck to spread out even more than he already was. but this time, his head took the place of his legs—right on your lap. finally, you did look down at the recognition of something shaped like a head, and you smiled when you saw the white-haired boy grin up and you.

what you didn’t expect was when satoru’s thumb rose to flick his own forehead multiple times, mentioning for you to kiss the spot he had touched just now. and you listened. bending down a bit, your hand removed all the bangs his hand wasn’t able to scoop, and your lips contacted the skin of his forehead.

“didn’t know you would fall so easily, [name]!” satoru says teasingly, followed by a genuine chuckle. his toothy grin shoved appearance again, and you bit down your lip so as not to burst out laughing and ruin the movie experience for the other people.

a quit flash of a camera, “cut it out, lovebirds,” shoko had to lean over to whisper from her seat so that the guy, who was already glaring at her for taking a picture in the threader, wouldn’t bash her out.

“get a room, you two!” suguru chuckled from the other side and watched both of your faces catch an adorable shade of pink that would be hard to get rid of once the same thing might happen later.

because satoru is definitely getting another kiss from you.

“ew! look how ugly that is!” riko squeaked out of disgust, pointing at a strange-looking creature that desperately tried to bury itself back in the sand before another wave of ocean water arrived and filled the hole again.

the worm-like creature kept digging even after many failed attempts to disappear from the hungry seagulls who kept circling above the four of you for the past half hour.

“ew!” your boyfriend yelled, voice high-pitched when he burst out laughing at the poor animal trying, but failing, to borrow itself away from the flying predators, “don’t worry, princess!” he jumps in from of you, “i will protect you from that gut-wrenching alien!”

“it’s a sea cucumber,” you deadpan, watching suguru and riko chuckle at satoru’s reaction—which was giving you a long face before letting his head fall in defeat, close to throwing a tantrum, “help it, satoru.”

“you’re no fun!” the boy huffs but listens to you anyway. his colossal hands dug deep into the sand, and once reaching a good size, satoru stared at you in silence.

“what?” you question.

“come put the thing into the hole.” satoru gulps, wondering if you’re playing about being clueless about what he wants you to do, or if you’re dead serious.

“why?” you question again.

“it was your idea!” satoru yells. his voice held nervousness and more cracks than the strongest would like to admit.

“don’t tell me you’re scared.” you tease, earning a chuckle from suguru who leaned over your ear to whisper, “oh, he definitely is.”

satoru gasped, “no way!”

“just admit it, i won’t laugh—” you get cut off, needing to bite your lip in order not to burst out laughing because the strongest is afraid of a little sea cucumber.

“you’re already laughing!” the white-haired boy protests, pointing at you with one of his long and slim fingers that he didn’t dare to wrap around the animal.

you roll your eyes at the sorcerer and decide to put the situation into your own hands. so easily, you pick up the marine creature and put it into the hole that your boyfriend has dug. he, immediately, throws the leftover sand back at the sea cucumber right before another wave could come.

“i don’t want to see that alien near me ever again!” satoru made a fake gagging noise, holding you by your shoulder so that you won’t have the audacity to run away and find yet another sea cucumber—and maybe even chase him with it.

the sun began to set soon enough. the seagulls were gone, no longer praying on the poor sea cucumber. riko was wet from being thrown into the ocean water by satoru, and you and suguru spent a lot of time building a perfect sand castle. in secret, suguru would peek around, making sure all four of you were safe, and nobody was here to take the star plasma vessel away.

“we should go back,” suguru suggested, dusting his hands to get rid of the leftover sand he used to build a sandcastle. you nod at his words, turning around to call out for the two other idiots who are still in the water, “satoru! riko!” you yell, catching both of their attention.

satoru stuck out his tongue at the young girl before using his long legs to reach out to you and pick you up without effort. “you look ridiculous!” you squeaked. the leftover sunscreen that didn’t sink into his skin was decorating his cheeks and nose, making him look paler than he already was.

“back we go!” satoru yells, rushing past his best friend to be the first one to reach the hotel—with you still in his arms, looking like a princess the way he was holding you.

by the time satoru sets you down, you’re already in your hotel room. exhausted, you collapse on the bed, “i’m going to take a shower,” you mumbled into the sheets before you picked yourself up and grabbed your towel.

“alright, princess!” satoru grins from behind you, sending you a small wave before you disappear into the bathroom of your hotel. the sorcerer could finally let his grin drop, the same exhausted collapse on the bed following his mind.

but he couldn’t. he had to stay up for the sake of riko. even if it meant another sleepless night would have to haunt the already tired sorcerer. he was the strongest, after all. one night without sleeping won’t kill him.

“satoru?” you call out, confused. the room was empty by the time you stepped out of the shower—no sight of your boyfriend. your footsteps were quiet as you moved down the hall, only to find satoru sitting in the lobby alone.

you kneel in front of him, “you should sleep.”

“can’t,” satoru hums, “too dangerous.”

you sigh at his words. the whole star plasma vessel thing was fucked up and already made your head ache. and the fact you had to watch your boyfriend’s eyebags grow by each day wasn’t helping.

“don’t worry about me, [name],” satoru assured you as if reading your mind, voice visibly tired as he spoke.

“i’ll still worry about you,” you begin, placing a soft peck on his lips, “but i’ll let it go. just . . . don’t exhaust yourself too much, okay?” you blink up at him, and for the last time this long night, he shot you his iconic toothy grin.

you waved at him, ready to turn around and leave—as you were grateful he was sacrificing his own sleep hours so that you could have yours. not until you heard his sweet voice.

“don’t forget to dream about me!”

the first thing in the morning was your boyfriend clinging to your arm, asking: “did you dream about me?” with a pout and puppy eyes that begged you to play along and say—

“yeah,” you ruffle his hair, “i did, ‘toru.”

satoru does a girlish gasp, covering his open mouth with both of his hands like a high-school girl—partly mocking sweet riko, who was eyeing him from the other side of the public plane.

your boyfriend stuck out his tongue, earning a smack from suguru, “cut it out, satoru.”

satoru’s reaction was a huff and dramatic snap of his head towards your direction. you, too busy looking out of the window, didn’t notice his glare. offended by your “not on purpose” ignorance, satoru let out an even louder, and more dramatic huff.

“do you need something, satoru?” you ask, finally tearing your eyes from the amazing view you got from up here.

“your attention?” satoru grins, and once hearing your heavy sigh, he knew he won. spreading himself all over the place, his head landed on your lap just like it did the first time in the threader. the memory almost brought tears—

“hey!” suguru yells, eye-widened, “get your feet off me!”

you lean forward to take a better look, almost bursting out laughing. in order for satoru to place his head on your lap and fit into his seat at the same time, his long legs spread all over his best friend’s lap. poor suguru, of course, didn’t appreciate that kind of behavior.

“deal with it,” satoru mouths, fixing his glasses by using his middle finger to push it further up his nose—flipping off his best friend in his favorite way. suguru stared back at him in disbelief, shaking his head with squinted eyes.

satoru didn’t take his legs off suguru for the rest of the flight, and the other male had to just suck it up and let you and your boyfriend have a romantic moment. but suguru would lie if he said he wasn’t irritated by satoru’s smug grin when you massaged his scalp.

the strongest didn’t have to watch his buddy’s angry stare ever since he drifted off, leaving satoru and you alone for a few hours.

“princess?” satoru spoke, and even when he likes to bother his best friend any chance he gets, his tone is quiet, not to disturb his sleep. you hum, and he continues, “i love you.”

your eyebrows furrowed, “i love you too . . . is everything okay?” you ask just in case, not expecting him to say something so casual with such a strange expression.

for a second, satoru freezes. your eyes were so soft while you waited patiently for his answer, not rushing him and expecting an answer right away just like everybody else in his life did. he was the strongest, right? what took him so long to answer such a simple question?

“everything’s fine,” satoru assured you, but you didn’t fail to notice the desperate squeeze he gave your hand. your hand sent a squeeze back, and the boy relaxed back into your lap, nodding, “promise.”

“take a nap, okay?” you suggest. the flight will last longer than all of you thought it did, and a little taste of sleep did sound nice—satoru thought it through and nodded.

satisfied by his choice of answer, you shifted yourself a bit lower to give the sorcerer more room to fully relax. he was grateful that you didn’t want him to wake up with an aching neck and burning spine.

and trust me, he did thank you by the time all of you woke up and stepped out of the plane. but now, as you walked up the many stairs of the jujutsu high, your legs ached for just a quick break.

“so─many─stairs!” you huff and take a step up with every pause, earning a shit-eating grin from your boyfriend who was able to walk up multiple stairs at once without even breaking a sweat.

“we’re almost inside the jujutsu high’s barrier,” suguru says out loud, and you wish you could just tell him that the fact he just mentioned didn’t help your aching legs or your tired brain that was overthinking all flight after satoru fell asleep.

speaking of satoru—he kept grinning all the way upstairs, never once leaving your side. as if he wanted to watch you suffer with each step.

“i could always carry you, you know?” satoru’s annoying grin got wider, if that’s even possible, as he was eager to watch your reaction. you, of course, turned him down.

the second you pass the last stair, you bend over to catch your hands on your knees. the way you gulped and gasped for air made suguru laugh as he praised everyone for making it to the top.

your eyes rolled back in “pleasure” when the jujutsu high barrier’s cold air made contact with your sweaty skin, and you sighed in relief. the only thing you needed right now was a cold shower.

the comforting feeling left as fast as it came when a warm liquid splashed your cheeks. horrified, your eyes shifted to your left to find the source—only the find your boyfriend with a sword pierced through his torso.

“satoru!” a blood-curdling scream that echoed through the whole jujutsu high campus called out his name, and suguru wasted no time to rush to you, who were already running to your boyfriend.

suguru’s curse was quick to send the attacker away, but when you reached out to help satoru, his palm stopped you right away. “i’m fine,” he smiled, acting like his uniform was not completely soaked in blood.

you were still in shock, unable to choke out anything “just ‘cause your boyfriend was fucking stabbed in front of you and his blood was on your face.” satoru felt bad for the scene he caused—even suguru and riko were worried.

“[name],” satoru said sternly, one hand cupping your cheek to fully ground you into listening to his words. which were, according to him, very important, “you and suguru, take riko and flee. i’ll finish him off.”

you wanted to slap satoru—scream and yell at him for how insane he must have to be to just tell you to leave him all by himself while you, suguru, and riko ran to safety. but then again, he was the strongest. who were you to argue with someone like him in a situation like this?

so you nodded, took riko by her arm, and together with the other sorcerer that was already waiting for your lead, you ran. there was only one thing you could do—believe in him.

“believe in the strongest,” you have told yourself, having enough faith in satoru to let him fight someone who was able to trick his infinity and land a perfect stab that made the time itself pause, letting everybody process that fact.

satoru would laugh, “a perfect stab? he wasn’t even able to hit my fetal organs!” you could already imagine the cocky grin he would shoot you just to make you feel less worried.

but now, the strongest has been announced dead.

the moment those words reached your brain, you were already thrown to the ground with a gun pointing at your motionless body. you could pick yourself up and continue the fight—but what was life without satoru, the only thing that made your life as a sorcerer not so miserable?

your face was still covered in satoru’s blood, which was now dried up. even while finding the motivation to raise your hand and clean your skin, the blood was simply too hard and stuck to your face.

your cheek lay against the cold concrete as you didn't have the energy to get up from the position the man had thrown you into. now, you were basically forced to watch suguru’s curses destroy the temple in the hope of killing whoever started this.

but is this what you really wanted? was this something that satoru would wish you to do? lay down and hear suguru’s screams whenever he got slashed across the chest, or even slammed into the hard walls of the buildings?

maybe you did consider yourself useless, but against the man who killed satoru gojo himself, everybody was—even suguru. but the difference is that he didn’t give up. hearing his best friend die stung, and so did the death of riko when he watched a bullet fly straight into her brain and watch her drop dead right in front of him. but suguru dusted himself off and kept fighting.

but by the time you somehow managed your shaky arms to support your weight to sit up, the man was gone—and so was riko’s body. you were useless to protect the girl and fight against the enemy.

the least you could do was limp all the way to suguru and help him reach shoko in time. you already lost one fucking important person in your life and you were sure as hell not gonna lose another one. so you ignored the burning feeling in your legs and dragged the male to shoko.

during suguru’s treatment, you stayed quiet. the cold wall that pressed against your back triggered every one of your nerves—if that was even possible, considering the fact that your whole body had been shut down the moment you received the news about satoru—but you were too weak to even pull away.

“[name],” yaga’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, disoriented eyes weakly lifting to meet his, “satoru’s alive.”

star religious group facilities—you never ran so fast in your life like you did right now. from one place to another, you cursed yourself for the members who have built some many of these places, as if one wasn’t enough.

“slow down!” suguru yelled. you didn’t listen, jumping off one of his curses to reach another building where you were supposed to meet satoru. so far, it was no good, and both of you were unable to spot the familiar white hair you grew to love.

the door was harshly torn open, and you were ready to let out a disappointing whine at the lack of people in the room. the thought was far from reality.

a bright room filled with hundreds of people, all dressed in white. the clapping sound of their palms directly hitting against each other made your ears ring. even suguru, who was peeking out from behind you, began to worry at your reaction.

the room went quiet when your eyes landed on the tall man walking right towards you. people didn’t stop clapping, and suguru’s mouth moved but no words came out.

there he was─the strongest, alive.

“you’re late, suguru, [name] . . .” satoru’s tone had caught you off guard. he sounded so emotionless, and his stare was blank, not a single ounce of his personality showing. the light in his eyes died too, making you choke up a sob you didn’t dare to release.

there was no need to cry. satoru was right in front of you, alive. his heart was beating, and every fetal wound he had back then was gone.

“should we kill these guys? the way i feel right now, i doubt i’d feel anything about it,” satoru asks. you froze, blinking.

the strongest was far away from being fine. later that day, all three of you returned home with a new kind of trauma that would haunt you for the rest of your life. but that was the life of a sorcerer. helping the weak and taking all the burden on yourself so that others don’t have to.

satoru was a bit shook up, only capable of creating a small form of sentences—a good start. but in the morning, he’ll be the same sunshine as he always is. that was all you could think about as you dragged your soap-covered hands up and down satoru’s back, watching all the blood fall by your feet and drench somewhere into the sewers.

shoko had already cleaned you up, but when satoru was already fast asleep in the comfort of his bed, you stayed up all night to dig your fingers into your skin in the hope of getting rid of the feeling of satoru’s blood on your face.

something like this will never happen again—you swear.

“great. now you need to add—” whatever came out of the woman’s mouth next was just blurred-out words—good for nothing sentences as you stared at the burnt pancakes with horror in your eyes.

months passed since the star plasma vessel accident, and you have grown more comfortable. satoru has been doing better too, not affected by the past events anymore.

now, you stood in the middle of the jujutsu high dorm’s kitchen. the food you have been currently working on has been burned into near ashes, making you question your cooking skills.

soon enough, you grew tired of the smell and decided to clean up so the other students wouldn’t have to work in a mess you created by your poor attempt at the evening snack.

you left the window open just in case your nose got too used to the smell, and the others would have different experiences with the terrible smell—avoiding scolding from yaga, who would never allow you to cook again. even if it meant for you to starve.

but when you returned to your dorm room, your moment of peace and quiet didn’t last as long as you wanted it to be. a small and almost shy knock came from the direction of the wooden door. too curious to ignore the person and throw yourself on the soft cushions of your bed, you rushed to answer whoever was waiting outside.

you were shocked to make eye contact with satoru, whose teary eyes and irregular breathing hinted to you he was on the verge of a panic attack—your thoughts were confirmed when a heart-breaking sob left escaped his mouth.

“h-he left . . .” satoru whispered, lips trembling. before you were given the chance to ask something, you watched him gasp for air with a pained expression, “he fucking left me!”

you stood frozen—who left? you don’t recall any news from yaga that was more recent than a few weeks ago. through the months of being a sorcerer, you never experienced the loss of someone who would decide to leave the school.

perhaps you misunderstood, and satoru was hinting at some random friend of his that he had never mentioned before. maybe they passed away, leaving your boyfriend shaking and in tears as he knocked on your door. but even then, whose absence could affect him this much?

“suguru!” satoru sobs as if he had taken your confused face as a hint for him to explain. unfortunately, his brain was mush at the moment, and the only thing he wanted to think about was getting rid of all the sadness—with your help.

“suguru? what do you—satoru, don’t . . .” you slurred out when you felt his hand weakly tug at your pants, and you immediately knew what his intentions were. you couldn’t allow him to trust you with removing his sadness, not when it involved a still unknown situation with suguru.

“p-please! please, please, please!” satoru sobs, even louder than his first try was. obviously, he wanted you to pity him and give in to drown him in the pleasure he needed so badly.

you shook your head, sternly stating: “satoru, no.” but his loud cries never died down—in fact, they only increased at your rejection. he just wanted for you to let him escape reality, so why did you keep saying no?

satoru fully broke down, hugging your waist from his kneeling position as if his life depended on it. “n-need you, please. just this once . . .” the puppy eyes he had given you was something he used only to really convince you to do something. but even then, he never used it in a serious situation like this.

“not right now, satoru,” you slowly lift him up, forcing small steps out of him before he collapses on your bed, “you’re in pain right now, you don’t realize what you’re saying. by the time you sober up, you’ll regret what you’ve asked for . . .”

the strongest shook his head and kept clinging to you like a baby koala, too afraid to face the reality of the world. what you were saying was true, and satoru’s actions weren’t as healthy as they sounded—but why did it hurt this much?

“b-but—” satoru gasps at the lack of oxygen in his lungs when he tries to confront you about whatever is happening right now but fails to do so, sobbing with frustration, “just this once . . . all i’m asking for—please!”

you weren’t sure for how long you could keep up with your rejecting act—you wanted to take away all of his problems and satisfy all his fantasies that currently fogged up his mind, so when he blinked up to you with those pretty long white lashes, you gave in with a sigh. “just this once, ‘toru.”

you gently laid him down, using pillows and blankets to make a spot comfortable enough to let him fully sink into the moment. satoru, carefully picking, chose a safeword in case the moment wasn’t as dreamy as he expected it to be.

everything was fine. satoru gave you his consent multiple times to the point he thought you were planning to edge him the whole night—tears appeared in his eyes again.

the first kiss of the night was gentle, mostly just helping to distract satoru when your hand traveled all the way down in order to wrap around his graciously pretty cock. you coo at his whimpers, “i know, i know.”

satoru moaned the second you gave him a few testing pumps, looking out for any sight of discomfort or pain.

“more,” the white-haired boy whispers when he decides the stimulation of a few “testing” pumps isn’t enough, and he wants the full experience that you were willing to give him. so carefully, your wrist moved faster.

everything was spinning. getting so much movement on his poor virgin cock from something else that wasn’t his own hand when he jerked off was a different feeling—a new kind of feeling that satoru began to like more and more.

when you increased the speed to keep the pleasure going, your thumb accidentally brushed over his tip. you mentally slapped yourself, noting to be careful next time. but satoru didn’t seem to mind. not when his back arched off the bed with a loud mewl escaping his lips.

“oh, you liked that?” you cooed at him and repeated the same process of rolling your finger over his tip. satoru’s reaction was the same, just slightly more intense with the way his cock shamelessly released an impressive amount of pre-cum.

satoru kept liking all the interactions you had with his cock so far, so the level of enjoyment didn’t decrease once your hand moved faster with the help of the sparse liquid.

the rest of his shaft became wet and slippery, basically letting you just guide your fingers to the tip before letting them fall down to the base. somehow, the movements seemed to trigger something inside the sorcerer when a fucked-out giggle left his throat.

“s-so good—it’s so good!” satoru hiccups between his words, mainly babbling to himself. and truth be told, he didn’t really care if you thought his behavior was weird. fortunately for him, you weren’t one to judge, not in a moment like this, and you kept going.

your hand shifted in different ways, looking out for places that were more sensitive than others in a way satoru could not describe. the male took an immense liking to the area near his tip, or even the tip itself—you noted and kept stimulating the same spot that made his eyes roll.

“c-close!” satoru’s tone was almost shy as he spoke. the familiar burning feeling inside his stomach rose at a rapid speed. he began to squirm underneath you of the sudden pleasure that harshly flexed his tummy, “g-gonna cum!”

“mhm,” you were quick to coo at him with small kisses all over his face. but your innocent touches failed to distract satoru’s attention from your brutal strokes of his cock that were successful to send him over the edge.

“c-cumming!” satoru’s voice was high-pitched before his orgasm washed over his body for the first time of the night. when his release landed all over his tummy, you hummed a praising sound that left the sorcerer trembling. but it was not enough. satoru wanted more.

you checked up on him, making sure he was alright after such an intense orgasm that looked almost painful in a way you couldn’t describe. oh, if only you knew how much pleasure he was in—you would have kept going without a question or pause.

“are you okay, sweet boy?” your gentle voice made satoru feel like he was floating somewhere in heaven. somewhere far away from all the pain and the burden of the world he had to carry as the strongest. especially after failing to protect so many people in his life.

satoru choked on his own sob, and his face was quick to twist from extraordinary pain at the memory from earlier. you still didn’t know what was happening because if you did, suguru would have ended up with a few broken bones for hurting his best friend in such a cruel way.

but you didn’t know, not yet. so you held satoru close to your chest in an attempt to soothe his cries. you’ve already told yourself the session was over when the male shook in your arms from the mix of his orgasm and whatever happened between his and suguru.

but to your surprise, satoru didn’t take this as the end. no, he craved—“o-one more . . . please!” he whimpered against your chest with teary eyes tightly shut. he didn’t want you to see him like this. not when he was so vulnerable.

something about the way satoru kept clinging to you as if you were to disappear made your eyes soften. the sorcerer was so close to escaping the misery that you couldn’t just decline now. with a sigh, you nodded.

satoru expected another handjob—that’s why he kept his eyes shut and let you shift positions so that you could get the work done easier. but when he felt something warm lowering itself on his cock, he gasped.

“shhh,” you whisper, cradling his head back to the original position on your chest before satoru could do it himself. if he knew that knocking at your door with tears in his eyes would lead to you riding him, he would have much sooner.

the moment you were adjusted to his size, your hips began to rock themselves against his. you moved slowly, carefully dragging whimper after whimper from the boy underneath you, who was currently staring at you with blown-out eyes.

you were a goddess to satoru—you had to be. the way you gently caressed his hair, the way you prepped small kisses on his face, the way you moved slowly so that satoru could preserve every roll of your hips.

right now, he wasn’t the “god” who shifted the balance of the world due to his birth. in this situation, you were.

satoru broke down crying, but what he admired the most about you was that you didn’t stop. long ago, he told you to keep going, that he’s okay because he wants this. and you listened to him, not daring to pause your movements.

the boy whispered something, but it was faint. you weren’t able to pick up a single word he tried to say, feeling bad for not being able to respond to him—solid proof that you’re listening. but satoru was too deep into this, and thanks to his constant babbling, you were able to hear his thoughts.

“d-don’t leave . . .” satoru whispered, a bit louder than last time. it was still uncharacteristically quiet for somebody like him, but you were lucky for this position to give you better access in order to hear him.

satoru sobbed this time, fingers digging into every inch of your skin that he could reach. at this point, he was basically dragging you down with him, and you weren’t even allowed to rise yourself anymore to properly ride him.

the strongest, for the first time in his life, was terrified. he was too shaken from the events earlier, and the thought of you following the same path as suguru made him shake in terror. he couldn’t let you leave, not now.

“p-please don’t leave!” satoru wailed, “n-not you! anyone but you! i-i can’t—” his sobs continued on, and on for quite a while, and your hands ended up cupping his tear-stained red cheeks.

“i’m not leaving. you know i won’t . . .” you whisper. one of satoru’s hands flew to yours, weakly interlocking his pinky with yours.

satoru sniffed, “promise?” he could only choke out much, his throat raw from the previous breakdown—not like he cared either way, he was just too tired to try to get his voice to work normally. you nodded, “promise.”

that’s all it took to make satoru’s grip on your skin loose. he no longer held onto your shoulder with a death grip like you were to get up and leave, no. he allowed you to move after you made your promise of not leaving him.

satoru had to choke up another sob when your hand moved to catch his, bringing it up to your lips. you took your time with the kisses, making sure to leave no place untouched.

his knuckles were white from the grip he had on the sheets, or maybe even your skin earlier. you weren’t sure which one was it, since both of them were pretty brutal and made the skin over his bones look paler than usual.

when your lips moved to his palm, you noticed a fresh open cut. the wound held a shape of thin lines that looked almost way too familiar to his fingernails. you took a mental note to ask about it later—once he’s mentally ready.

you placed the last kiss on the nail on his middle finger that held an unhealthy color due to being squeezed for too long. whatever happened with him and suguru, if satoru thought about using that technique, it must have been serious.

satoru was too deep in his thoughts by the time your hips started to move again. the feeling of your slow movements made his eyes roll back to the back of his skull. he thought you being rough with him would be the best option for his brain to shut down—but once tasting the gentleness from your slow pace, satoru chose a winner.

“you’re doing so good, pretty boy. keep breathing through your nose,” you praise him, knowing it will catch his full attention before taking the opportunity to remind him to breathe properly, not wanting his sobbing mess to catch another near panic attack.

satoru blinks up at you through those long, white eyelashes that are soaked and stuck together with his tears. his blue eyes look majestic—they always do, but now, they are just so pretty and glossy from the salty liquid on his waterline.

every time your hips rose before slamming down, the tears threatened to escape. whatever it was rolling down his red cheeks or falling on his thighs, satoru struggled to keep them stay in place.

“i-i tried to stop him—” you carefully listened to his words as he did his best to speak through his heavy breathing of his incoming orgasm, “i really did! b-but he—oh god!” his words were cut where you sped up the pace.

“you did well,” you whisper, being gentle as ever when placing a soft kiss near his ear. “i don’t really know what happened between the two of you,” you admit, ignoring satoru’s high-pitched noises as he began to claw at your skin when his tummy begins to flex again.

“but i know you did a fucking good job,” you finish, and he does too. satoru screams into your shoulder that had been marked with his well-kept nails, sobbing along his release. you kept stroking his hair, feeling his cum fill you up.

the milky ring appears soon enough, and your hips finally come to a stop. satoru didn’t complain this time, letting you coo at him and whisper sweet nothing’s into his ear. telling him what a “good boy” he was, and how he “took it so well”

he didn’t feel so miserable now. the memory of suguru’s back turned to him as he walked out of his life will never leave his mind. it will never not haunt him everywhere he goes—the burning feeling inside his chest will forever stay.

but somehow, he couldn’t think about it when your gentle touches were pulling him to cloud nine. the way your hand caressed his thighs while the other one dragged the wet towel to clean up the mess you two made while his head was gently placed upon your pillow gave him butterflies.

the lipgloss he always wore was dried out now, making the skin feel weird and wobbly. but satoru found the strength to tear his lips apart and say what he wanted you to know.

“[name] . . .” satoru whispered softly, “thank you.”

[fandoms--fluff]

Good Boy

Dom female reader x sub Sam Winchester

Summary: Subby Sam Winchester with a mommy kink

A/n: I wrote this with season 1-2 Sammy in mind but read for whatever season you like

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you trail kisses down his chest, Sam squirms from where he’s laying underneath you, head resting back into a pillow, and hands gripping the scuffed motel sheets. Your cool hands travel up and down his torso, making him shiver from the cool touch against his warm skin.

You make your way down till you get to his pants, the only article of clothing still left on one of your guys’ bodies. “Should I take these off?” You teasingly ask, getting fervently nods in reply from a flushed Sam. His eyes scrunching closed, feeling your hand breezing over his crotch ever so lightly.

Softly smirking at his eagerness, you quickly unbutton his pants, pulling them and his boxers off, tossing it somewhere in the small space of the motel where the rest of your clothes are scattered about.

Holding out a hand, you lightly trace the bottom of his length up and down. Emitting a moan, Sam bucks his hips upwards into your hand, wanting to feel more.

“You want more Baby?” you ask, teeth biting into your lip.

“Y-yes” he moans out when he feels your hand wrapping around him. “Yes what, Sam?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Yes Mommy” he answers, calling her a name that if anyone knew about would surely get a laugh from his brother at the least. Since all men should always be the dominate one compared to a woman, at least that’s what his dad had said scarcely before he left for Stanford and his brother hinting at through the years when he’d talk to him about the girls he went out with. Though he couldn’t give any reason to listen to that crap spewed out, you’re gentle and care more about him than anyone it feels like. Well, except maybe his brother, but that’s a whole different thing with his brother basically raising him instead of their actual dad.

“Good boy” you lean over and whisper into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

Lifting your hand up to your mouth, you spit into it before placing it back. You start slowly moving your hand up and down his hardened cock, causing him to whimper and grip the sheets tighter to the point where his knuckles are starting to turn white.

Seeing his reaction, you decide to speed up your pace immensely, “Do you like it when Mommy touches your cock?” She asks after nibbling on his neck, a bruise starting to appear on his pale skin. “Mhm, Mommy it feel good” he answers, clear he’s going further into sub space.

You smile, gently kissing his flushed pink lips a couple times. Sitting back up, you stop stroking his cock, which in return, Sam lets out a whine. Except before he could say anything, you lean down and place a soft kiss on his tip, before taking him into your warm, hot mouth.

 You start sucking the head of his cock, progressively taking more of him into your mouth. And with that, has Sam moaning loudly from the amount pleasure you’re giving him. He exhales a loud moan as you suck him all the way down your throat.

Reaching down, Sam takes a handful of your hair splayed against his abdomen, loving the way your hair is so soft against his fingers. You smirk, cupping his balls into your left hand, applying just the right amount of pressure, making his back arch and mouth open in an o shape.

“M- I’m gonna cum” he calls out.

You pull your head back up, “My baby needs to cum?” You ask, a smirk set on your face. Sam nods, turning his head to the side, digging into the musty pillow to hide half his face.

You start pumping him with your hand, going at a fast rate, getting him to moan louder with each stroke. “First I need to see your pretty face, baby” you tell him.

Sam obliges and turns his head back, showing his entire face, watching as you move your hand up and down his cock. “There we go, now Mommy can see her baby’s face. Cum onto Mommy’s hand, sweet boy, cum for Mommy” you say, speeding her hand up magnificently.

��’onna cum, Mommy” he moans, while watching how your big breasts bounce along with your hand movements.

“Go on, baby” you tell him, smiling at the way his brows cutely furrow.

A couple seconds later a rope of cum layers your hand and his lower abdomen. “Good job baby boy, you did so good” You praise him.

He huffs out long breathes, catching his breath while coming down from his high. “Good?” He questions, looking up at you with still glossed over eyes.

“Yeah, my good boy” You move up the bed and lean down, placing a kiss on his lips.

[timbitshockey]

a thing i believe and have discussed at length with my friends in real life who have participated in team sports is that if you take any large enough group of guys, like, say, a hockey team. okay? are you with me? you take those guys and you put them in a saw trap style room where the doors lock behind them. in that room is an equal number of collars and leashes. you still follow? okay. you tell that group of guys that they are allowed to leave ONLY when every collar is on someone and attached to a leash and someone else is holding the other end of the leash. they don't have to do anything else! just half of them will have to put on a collar and the other half will have to hold onto the attached leash. after that the doors will unlock and they will be allowed to leave. i fully believe that in that scenario these men know absolutely instinctively and with NO discussion needed which of them will put the collars on and which will hold the leashes. it will not even occur to them to have done it a different way than their first instinct. this is a truth of the universe

[3d-wifey]

I've read that Johnny NSFW alphabet like 30 times, it was so gooddddd, there's been no good Johnny Cage smut or writing in general honestly. Your Johnny just feels so in character and you're feeding me crumbs, I need moreeee 🥺🥺🥺🥺 (that sneak peek made me levitate)

Show 'em Who I Belong To

Pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader Synopsis: Johnny has seriously pissed you off this time, like, royally. The "begging on his knees" kind of pissed off. But luckily, he knows just the thing to do to prove he’s sorry. Word Count: 2.58k Playlist: Here's a Johnny Cage playlist to read his smut or just get inspo from, I made it myself TW: Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, switch!Reader, switch!johnny cage, dom!johnny cage, sub!Reader, Forgiveness, Making Up, Apology Sex, Vaginal Penetration, Recording, Sex Tapes, Exhibitionism, Begging, Hand Jobs, Grinding, Crying During Sex, johnny cage loves you, johnny cage is just really really dumb, celebrity!reader, No Spoilers, Making Out, "straight" couple, johnny's slutty little slacks, Johnny cage is a little shit, Pussy drunk, cock drunk, Praise Kink, simp johnny cage, no other canon characters show up in this, Smut, Shameless Smut, Gratuitous Smut A/N: Since the poll I put on Tumblr voted for switch!Johnny, that's what I'm doing! This chapter will mostly be sub!johnny and dom!reader with a switch at the end. It's a bit of a mixed pov, but it's mainly from the reader's pov. Nothing but Dom!Johnny in the next chapter and sorry if the quality was lacking, I've slept a total of 10 hours in a span of 72 hours. CHECK OUT THAT JOHNNY NSFW ALPHABET I WROTE, IT'S CONSIDERED CANON TO THIS! Part 2 (tbm) Ao3

Your acrylics tap a beat onto the arm of the plush white couch as you read the tweet on your phone.

" Johnny Cage spotted cozying up on set with Co-Star. Has the star finally met his match? " Your nails stop and you glance at where Johnny kneels fidgeting on the floor in front of you before looking back to the screen.

He spreads his hands. "Okay, I know this looks bad." His voice floats in the otherwise quiet mansion. "But will you please stop ignoring me?"

You look down your nose at him. "Is this enough attention for you?" You sneer and he grimaces.

"My PR team cooked this up a while ago and they've been hounding me about it for ages. It was so unimportant to me that it sorta...slipped my mind." He shrugs and your glare hardens him. " C'mon , babe, it's just a little publicity stunt our agents had us do for the movie. It doesn't mean anything." He laughs and his nonchalance about the situation is pissing you off more than you already are.

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" You fume and his brows furrow. "This isn't funny, Jonathan."

" Oof, " he winces, "government name."

You're both celebrities, you know what you signed up for when you agreed to date him after years and years of his begging and truly horrible pickup lines.

You're not mad about the situation itself, not really. You've gotten into drama before loads of times to drum up hype around a new project, but nothing like this. At least, not while you were dating Johnny. 

You're mad that you had to find out about it from the trending page on Twitter along with a slew of concerned messages from your friends, family, and manager.

You scroll down and read messages concerned fans have posted, worried that you and Johnny have broken up or, worse, that he cheated on you. But you know that he knows that you know he wouldn’t dare.

"Look at this shit." You shove your phone in his face. The screen reflects off the sunglasses that sit low on the bridge of his nose and he squints as the brightness nearly blinds him. "'I hope this isn't how she finds out.' 'I'd be so embarrassed if I was her.' 'I knew Johnny wouldn't stay faithful for long.'"

He looks from you to the screen and then back to you. "...You're mad."

You stare down at him.

"You are un- fucking -believable.” You move to stand up, but he grabs ahold of your hips.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, I'm sorry ! I didn't mean to upset you. Next time, I'll give you a heads up— I mean I'll run it by you.” Johnny corrects, pulling you closer when you try to pull away again. "What can I do to make it up to you, huh?" The muscles in his biceps flex against you as he wraps his arms around your waist. You try to stay firm, but it's pretty hard when he's pressing reverent kisses to your stomach.

You shiver from the coldness of his rings as he runs a big hand up your calf, traveling up your outer thigh to hook the hem of your dress at your hip before repeating the process up your other leg.

You want to stay mad—you are mad. This is incredibly careless and he didn't consider your feelings at all and...and you don't want him to think he can get out of trouble by kissing up to you. But, begrudgingly, you card your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.

"I'm still really upset about this, Johnny." You frown.

"I know, sweetheart. And I really am sorry. But, hey! I know something that'll make us both feel better." He grins up at you and you let him lead you back to the couch with a huff, dropping down once the back of your calves brush the white upholstery. 

“I’m sure you do.” You roll your eyes, spreading your legs to make room for him without thinking. “How would you —ahh !” You yelp at the sudden pinprick of pain on the skin of your inner thigh and it morphs into a moan when the pinch is quickly followed by a warm heat. You look down in time to see the pink of Johnny’s tongue as he licks over the tender spot—tender because he bit you like a damn dog!

“I’m sorry, what were you saying? I couldn’t really hear you over all those cute little noises.” You can feel the shit-eating grin against your skin as he talks. “You’re so sensitive. Definitely not a complaint—it does amazing things to my ego.” He laughs, hooking his hands under the back of your knees and pushing your legs up until the heels of your feet are balancing precariously on the edge of the seat.

He grips your hips, pulling you further down the couch and closer to his face. He moves your legs so your feet rest on his shoulders, the white polish of your toenails reflecting the light.

He leans in and you hold your breath in anticipation. You don’t want him to think he can just distract you and you’ll forget about being mad at him but—he leans in close to where the skirt of your sundress rucks up around your stomach, warm breath making you clench around nothing with each pant—but you like getting ate out almost as much as Johnny likes to do it.

You sigh as the warm, wet heat of his tongue drags across the damp seat of your panties. 

" Johnny. " You whine in frustration, fingers tightening in his sandy hair, as he pulls away as quickly as he came.

"Hold on, sweetheart. I think you're gonna like this." He grins, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. You pause as he unlocks it and presents it to you, camera on and recording you.

"What the hell are you doing?" You try to push as much disapproval into your voice as you can as you flip it from the front-facing camera to the rear one, but that’s an almost impossible task since he’s rubbing his nose up and down the crease of where your thigh meets your pussy. You end up sounding far more breathy than intended.

"What?” He grins into the camera. “You can watch this whenever you need a reminder of who I belong to." He says and if you weren't wet before, you definitely are now.

For as long as you’ve known him, Johnny has never been one to half-ass anything . It’s whole ass or nothing with him putting 110% into everything he’s faced with. However, when you first started dating, you hadn’t thought that would hold up when he had his head between your legs—yet another thing Johnny went out of his way to prove you wrong about.

The camera captures it the moment he pushes your panties to the side; he’s in his element.

There’s no preamble, no warning. Johnny dives in giving you no time to prepare for the shock of pleasure. You jerk away, but he holds onto your hips, hands becoming heavy weights you can’t lift. 

“You always taste so good for me, it’s insane.” He groans as your thighs try to squeeze his head, but he keeps them open easily. You sigh shakily at the casual show of strength. “I’d stay down here forever if you’d let me.” You bite your lip to muffle your soft moans, reminding yourself to steady the phone every few seconds, but forgetting to do so almost as soon as you do. But you can’t be blamed when Johnny gives head like he’s training for the Olympics; trying to break his previous record each attempt. You’ve been eaten out by people other than Johnny—of course, you have. It’s a requirement—but none of your past lovers come anywhere close to this. Johnny blows them out of the water every time.

That would be fine if you didn’t factor in his ego. Which would also be fine…any other day. But today, after the shit he pulled, you aren’t in the mood. This is supposed to be his way of apologizing, after all. So before he can get any ideas, you blink past the haze he’s put you in and grab the back of his neck. His back stiffens. He glances up at you and the shift is so swift that you doubt the camera even picked it up. His shoulders relax, almost limp against you, wide eyes going lidded as his grip on you softens.

“I know you can be louder than that, Johnny. I, hah , wanna hear how sorry you are. You are sorry, right?” You narrow your eyes.

His words are muffled since he refuses to take his mouth off of you, but you’re able to make out ‘yes’ and ‘princess’ which is good enough for you. Through the camera, you manage to get his pleading eyes and his hand unabashedly palming his bulge in the same frame and you smile around a moan.

"Are you hard, Johnny?" He doesn't hesitate to nod enthusiastically, and you feel yourself throb in his mouth. You're sure if your feet were on the ground he'd be grinding against your leg shamelessly. His body knows this too since his hips keep making aborted little thrusts, itching for relief from his tight gray slacks. "Heh, of course, you are. You can't help yourself, c–can you? Go on, then.”

He pauses, assessing you for a second to see if you’ll follow it up with anything else. You’re being surprisingly benevolent. He always has to work to earn your approval when you get like this, any pleasure he gets is dictated by you—not that he’s complaining—and that’s on the days when he hasn’t pissed you off. He honestly didn’t think he’d be cumming tonight, but he won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. 

He buries his tongue in you, licking from your pulsing hole to your throbbing clit as his hands work to unbuckle his belt and pull his dick out. He groans in relief once he’s free, squeezing the base of his dick so he doesn’t cum too quickly. You’re certainly not helping, shivering against him like a house in a storm and he moans in synch with you when you yank on his hair.

He freezes at the press of sharp nails at the nape of his neck. He shivers at the slight pinch of pain before leaning into it and you reward him with smoothing down the hair there. He stops the movement of his hands, but not his mouth.

“If you’re touching yourself, you’ll do it slowly or not at all. You wanna make it up to me, don’t you? Yeah ?” You hiss as he nods against you, mouth a tight suction on your clit. “Then you don’t cum until I do.” Normally he’s more bratty than this, making you fuck the submission out of him, but he must really be sorry because he does just as you say. He slows down as you instruct, his sharp brows furrowing as one of his hands grip the fat of your thigh. His other hand jerks him off haltingly like he actively has to remind himself to obey you. 

“You’re being so good for me, baby.” You gush, squirming in his hold. “ Mmh, s’fucking good.” You have to adjust your grip on his phone when he grunts at your praise, uncertain if you should jerk away or towards the vibrations. You run your nails over his scalp before yanking on his blond hair and he moans like a pornstar, hips thrusting into his hand. To the untrained eye—or ear—it seems like he’s playing it up for the camera, performing, but he’s always this loud. Especially when he’s got your pussy in his mouth.

It's almost embarrassing, the wet sounds of Johnny sloppily eating you out. Your moans mix with his and bounce around the mansion's walls with a filthy echo the longer this goes on. 

He stiffens his tongue and you know what he wants. You move your hand to the back of his head, gripping the soft strands to pull him forward. You thrust your hips with helpless, heady moans as you fuck his face. His heavy gaze burns through the camera to stare up at you with his tongue out. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk and he winks. You throw your head back, eyes closed with an obscene moan and he moves forward to press his nose against your clit, tongue flat as you move his head side to side.

“Johnny , mmh, ‘m gonna, f– fuck, ‘m gonna cum!” You cry and he moans into you in response. You glance down to see his foggy glasses riding low on his nose and he stares right back, brown eyes half open but full of lust. The apples of his flushed cheeks become accentuated, sharpening with his grin. The barest hint of teeth brush your clit before pressing against it and you jerk back with the strength of your orgasm. Your mouth falls open with a repeated whine of his name, legs shaking as you hold his head still.

“Damn.” He curses, pulling away when your muscles untense. He doesn't bother wiping his mouth, wearing your slick like a trophy as he smiles into the camera. “Should’ve got that on camera. It was a money shot.” You scoff, smiling despite yourself. You pull his glasses off and sit them on your head before you press stop on the camera and toss the phone on the couch beside you, pulling him to you by the open collar of his button-up. You kiss him deep, tasting yourself on his tongue with a groan. His hands go to your hips and you wrap your legs around his waist, licking into his mouth. 

“You played dirty.” You slide your hand down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as you go. You grab his dick, still hard and leaking against his stomach. He laughs before whimpering into your mouth at your touch, rutting up into it. You swipe a thumb across his tip where precum drips down the underside of the head. "You're so wet, baby. This all for me?" You pull away to lick yourself off him, tongue dragging across the skin of his chin as you twist your wrist with every upward stroke. 

"Are you joking? O–of course. Can, shit , can you blame me?” He puffs into your neck, hot air warming your neck as you alternate between licking and kissing his jaw. His fingers spasm around your hips, and your hands fly to his shoulders when he pulls you forward until your ass is barely on the edge of the couch. Now he’s in the perfect position to—

You gasp as he ruts against you, still sensitive as his dick slides between your pussy lips. There’s no friction with how wet you both are and with every upwards thrust he bumps your twitching clit. 

“Wait, I’m— mmnh —Johnny, I’m sensitive.” 

“Ah, ah, sweetheart. You said I can cum when you do,” you jump when he nips at your neck, strong arms wrapping around your back holding you tight to him. “Besides, I’m not done apologizing.” You rock against him despite your complaining. The overwhelming feeling only increases when he bends over you to reach something, and it’s enough to distract you from the sound a phone makes when you press record.

[toreii]

I had a very lengthy discussion with a friend about this moment. While we agree that this is rather impulsive and not well thought out, to be seriously honest, this is exactly what Bi-Han was meant to do. He was prepared for moments like this. This is what he was itching for. Where his purpose was fulfilled as a protector of Earthrealm. For plot purposes, no one else is making a move least of all Liu Kang (who, mind you, should). Bi-Han doesn’t think, not out of stupidity, but out of responsibility. He may have forsaken his oaths, denounced his purpose, but out of instinct, acts exactly as he was prepared to do.

I’ve been mulling a lot of things, scrutinizing every trailer, and trying to make sense out of everything. But, it’s a very poignant moment in Bi-Han’s story (and character), that out of everyone present in that room, for one split second, he acts as he was always intended to do. Liu Kang’s line “This is what you are meant to do. Defend Earthrealm.” if, in fact, he is speaking this to Noob/Bi-Han makes so much more sense and has more meaning.

[charlesslut16]

hi love <3

could you maybe write for pierre :

Like you and your friends are talking about pierre, who alsways wants everything to be perfect in bed but y/n also wants to have quickes. Pierre hears the conversation and decides to show you how capable he is of having quickies with you.

thank you in advance bae ( :

-quickies-

summary : you and you're friends are talking about how pierre doesn't have quickies with you. Pieere hears the conversation and decides to change it.

PAIRING : pierre gasly x fem!reader

WARNINGS : +18, smut, NSFW, dirty talk, dom!pierre, fingering, spanking, p in v, badly translated french, curse words, public sex, unprotected sex (be safe!)

note : i hope you like it! Send in more requests and i will work them off! Love you <3

masterlist 

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Pierre opened the front door of your apartment, with the keys you had given him for emergencies, and walked up the stairs to your bedroom, as you hadn't opened the door, when he sent you the message that he was in front of your house.

His step haltered, when he heard his name being mentioned, followed by a very know loud girl group laugh. He stopped in the middle of the stairs and waited quietly.

"So what is he like? Is he like a machine in bed too? Like a beast? " One of the girls asked, cackling, and he chuckled quietly with a shake of his head, a smile visibly on his face.

"No," he head your voice and the smile on his face grew wider. Of course, he wasn't cold and clinical during sex. If there was something people couldn't accuse him, it was the lack of passion.

"I mean, he does want it to be perfect all the time, so in a sense..." He held his breath, his brows knitted together, as he listened to her carefully, being visibly confused.

"You, girl, you're saying that like that's a problem." One of her friends laughed loud and he huffed. He couldn't understand why this sounded more like a complaint than a compliment.

"All my man does for me is put it in and take it out." Pierre's spine straightened a little bit, a smirk tugged at the side of his lip. He could go for hours, and loved to go for hours.

"Of course it isn't a problem, but sometimes I just wish he could do quickies without having to plan a day ahead," you exclaimed.

"Quickies are nice, but we don't have them, you know. I can't just say that we have ten minutes before the race starts or let's have a quickie in the shower before you need to go to the airport, because well... it wouldn't be perfect."

Pierre's eyebrows raised to his hairline. He figured you liked that he'd rather wait than just get it out of the way like it was a meaningless act. You were always the more sensitive one, and so he made sure that you felt cherished and treasured even when you were in bed together.

He couldn't wrap his mind around what the problem with that was. "But the thing is sometimes, you just need to fuck without any special treatment." you stated.

His fingers tapped against the railing before he inhaled deeply and walked up the rest of the stairs. No one had ever had the nerves to complain about his performance in bed. But if you wanted to be fucked, he could give it to her now.

"Good evening, ladies." He flashed them his most dazzling smile before he walked straight to you, grabbed you by the elbow and pulled you up and after him.

"What the... Pierre..." you complained, your voice slightly off from the booze you clearly had, one glass of wine as always, but it was enough to get her tipsy a little bit.

He completely ignored her words, and walked down the stairs, dragged you with him without haltering even for a second. You could only see the sight of his face, but you knew that look very well. He was pissed. 

 Pierre's jaw was clenched, his fingers dag into your arm so hard you wondered if you were going to get bruises later on. When you both hit the floor area. He turned to the right and headed towards your home office.

"Baby." Your hand tugged at his shirt, but he brushed your fingers off with a low grumble. You bit your bottom lip, felt your panties soaking trough between your legs.

There was something beautiful in a raging Pierre Gasly, how his eyes turned from a light colour to a darker one, his determination shining through. He was always like a force of nature, but these times, he reminded you of a tornado.

"What are you even... Pierre, they are going to... the girls will know..." you said breathlessly as he pulled you into the tiny room and closed the door behind you. 

Pierre pushed you up against the wall of the tiny home office, wasting no time before he parted your legs and his hand slipped between your legs, making you almost buckle.

"Je n’en ai rien à foutre qui entende quand je te baise la cervelle," he growled in a low voice, another wave of wetness gushed between your thighs. I don't give a fuck who hears when I fuck your brains out,

"Qu’est-ce qui t’a pris?" You asked, accompanied by a moan, as he pushed your panties aside and thrusted two fingers into your pussy. What the hell has gotten into you?

"Ma copine ne peut pas se plaindre que je ne la baise pas correctement." He grabbed your jaw and pounded his fingers hard in you, in and out, fast and mercyless, his palm brushed over your swollen clit in small circles. My girlfriend can not complain that I don't fuck her properly.

Your knees trembled, and you could feel the familiar pull in your belly approaching you way too fast. Your hips lifted to pierre's hand and a whimper escaped your mouth, when his knuckles brushed over your sweet spot.

His fingers sank into your jaw deeper for a moment, and you hissed quietly. You were about to reply, as he pulled his fingers from your soaking hole and with a well planned moves grabbed you by the hair and pushed your face on the table.

The air, getting knocked out of your lungs, when your upper body hits the hard surface. You could hear him unbuckling his belt behind her and glanced over your shoulder.

Your boyfriend's big veiny hands wrapped tightly around both ends of the belt, and you felt your core pulsing with need, your ass lifted into the air involuntarily.

"Je n’ai pas le temps de parler en ce moment, juste une salope rapide." He smirked at you before the belt came around your wrists and pulled so tight, the leather cut into her skin. I have no time to talk right now, just a quickie, slut.

Your thighs quivered, and you could hear him huffing when you spread your legs just a bit wider. He looked you up and down before giving your ass a little pat.

"Tu vas crier mon nom, princesse, ne laissant aucun doute à quiconque à l’étage sur la façon dont je peux te baiser," You're going to scream my name, princess, leaving no doubt for anyone upstairs just how properly I can fuck you,

You could feel the tip of his cock against your entrance, and you tried to push back to him, but his hand came around your waist and held you so tight, you knew for sure the edge of the table was going to bruise your hipbone.

"Watch the clock. 10 minutes." He ordered, and your gaze fell on the small table clock. Pierre was unbelievable. You were about to make another snarky comment, but he was faster than you.

Without giving you even a moment to adjust to his size, Pierre thrusted into you with one swing of his hips, and you cried out. Tiny colourful blurs appeared in your vision as his cock invaded your tightness, every little bundle of nerves alive for the rough treatment he was giving you.

Pierre was a man on a mission, no doubt about it, fucking you so hard, the table moved inch by inch forwards. You could do nothing but scream as he held you down by the waist and pounded into you so powerful, you were a trembling mess in no time.

"Putain viens me chercher, qu’ils l’entendent." His hand landed on your ass with such strength, the print of his palm coloured your butt checks red, over and over again. Fucking come for me, let them hear it.

He switched between your cheeks before you cried out in desperation, the power of your orgasm nearly knocking you off your feet. It wasn't enough for him tough, not far enough.

"Eyes still on the clock, I hope." He smacked your burning red ass one more time to get your attention and to not let you slip into the bliss of your orgasm just yet.

"3 more minutes." you mumbled, as an answer through your haze, your breathing heavy as you pushed back into him, unable to follow the speed that he dictated.

"Alors vous pouvez m’en donner un de plus, n’est-ce pas?" He growled before one of his hands slipped from around your waist over the line of your spine up lightly to your hair, and he pulled you up against his body. Then you can give me one more, right?

Your eyes rolled back into the back of your head when the angle changed and his cock brushed against your g-spot repeatedly, sending all of your cells into a frenzy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Pierre, please!!" You screamed, pierre's thumb brushed over your clit and your body crashed against his when you came undone with a glass chattering scream. 

Your swollen pussy clamped down on him, his thrusts turned erratic as he fucked you through your second orgasm before he followed you with a low grunt.

""Was that quick and unexpected enough for you?

"I petition you to be spontaneous more often."

"Next time you criticize how I fuck you, I'm not letting you come for a week." You laughed out but instantly nodded because you knew too well Pierre and his punishments were not to be taken lightheartedly.

[fir3ylolol]

break up, make up

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: You and Johnny didn't end your relationship on a good note. You've successfully avoided him, but what happens when you both end up at the same bar??

word count: 2.46 k

tw: Vaginal sex, oral sex, cunnilingus, afab!reader, gn pronouns, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, forgiveness, make up sex, vaginal penetration, grinding, semi-public sex, begging, mentions of cheating, making out, no spoilers, he's so pussywhipped dude, praise kink, no other canon characters, smut, shameless smut, porn with plot

a/n: I've never really written fic b4 so I hope it's not shit. Slightly inspired by 3d-wifey, they are an actually good writer

Ao3

Johnny stared daggers at you from across the room. Why did he have to show up here? It had been a couple of months since you two split up and this was the first time you’d seen each other since. All you wanted was a nice night out with friends, which was already hard enough. But there he is, just 1000 feet away.

It hadn’t been easy. You had been with him for over a year and for the most part, it was fine. Despite his career and fame, he managed to find plenty of time for you. He loved to spoil you, spend time with you, and show his love wholeheartedly. That was until he had a long shoot overseas. He promised that everything would be fine and nothing would change. After 2 long months, he finally returned. But something felt off. He didn’t hold you like he used to, spent less time at home, and you didn’t see the love in his eyes anymore. A very dramatic breakup ensued, complete with tears and screaming from both of you. You moved out and quickly lost contact. Trying to cope as article after article about him returning to his ‘playboy lifestyle’ came out, you decided that he wasn’t worth your time, that he killed the relationship because he was bored of you. And so you tried your hardest, knowing that running into him again was unlikely. He’s too busy being famous, right?

Right?

Wrong.

Because there he was, same old Johnny, in a red button-up shirt with the arms rolled up and the top two buttons undone. Black slacks straining against his thighs, expensive watch glistening in the low light of the club. And, fuck, that look on his face. You couldn’t fully read it, and you weren’t sure if you were scared or interested.

Trying not to look at him, you brush off your clothes. You want to seem cool, calm, unbothered. Something you weren’t. But you weren’t turning around again to look. You just laugh with your friends and continue to enjoy your night. Until…

“Why, hello there dear,” his familiar voice rang out in your ears. You froze, the familiarity and warmth were something you hadn’t heard in a very long time. Slowly turning, you meet his eyes, trying, and failing, to hide your nerves. But when you meet his eyes, you can’t read anything. His words are cool, calm, and suave, but his eyes? Ice cold. It made you feel worse. You manage to utter a “Hello Johnny” as he stands there, his presence looming. Your friends look to you for guidance, but you nod, letting them know you’re fine. But they take that to mean, ‘you can leave now’, because they walk away, leaving you alone with him.

The exact opposite thing of what you wanted, honestly.

But it's too late for that. You take a deep breath and look directly at him, trying to seem brave. He leans against the table, looking around before sitting down across from you. “So, why are you out tonight? Trying to find another guy to disappoint?” His words cut deep, harsh accusations that offend you. “Excuse me?” you question, leaning towards him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t act innocent, we both know you’re not,” He scoffs, leaning back in his chair and looking at the crowd. You scrunch your face up in frustration, feeling the anger bubble up inside you. “You know, you’re not exactly innocent either. You leave for 2 months, you don’t talk to me once, and when you’re finally back, you treat me like shit! I honestly preferred it when you were gone, at least then I didn’t feel like complete garbage.” You try not to cry, unable to stop your eyes from watering. Your words seem to soften Johnny slightly, as he looks back and seems more awkward than angry. “What do you mean? I didn’t do that.” “WHAT?” you nearly yell, surprising yourself and him. “You came back a different person! You weren’t the man I fell in love with anymore. You were cold and cruel, just like you are now.” You reach for your bag and move to stand up and leave, but he nearly dives across the table, grabbing your arm. “Wait, wait, please don’t go. I’m sorry. Please just…let me explain.”

You slowly sit back down, shrugging out of his grip, and stare at him, waiting. He finally seems nervous, scratching the back of his neck. “I won’t beat around the bush. I thought that while I was gone, you were cheating on me.” He looks away, clearly ashamed. “I don’t know why. I didn’t have proof. I just…I’m used to people leaving a lot sooner than you, so I assumed the worst. I didn’t think I acted that poorly, but I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I’ll just leave you alone now.” His head hung slightly in shame, he started to stand.

But now it's your turn to stop him, gently taking his arm and making him sit down again. You both pause, waiting for the other to speak. Quietly, you begin to laugh, your whole body shaking. You manage to get out a muffled, “We’re so stupid.” He slowly starts laughing as well, both of you absorbing the absurdity of the situation. After a bit, you both calm down, managing to speak again. You learn that he’s been cast in a new show and that the rumors spreading around have been untrue. He learns about how you’ve been, your true interest in how you are shining through.

“Hey, you look really good, you know?” He gently takes your hand and stares into your eyes. All of a sudden, the mood shifts. Reconnecting with him has reconnected something else, something you didn’t quite expect. His words rest heavily in the air, trying to gauge how you’re feeling. You look into his eyes, the kindness and care he used to show you returning. “You look good too. Better than I remember, honestly.” He laughs, touching your arm more. “I always look this good baby.”

His eyes, now half-lidded and sultry, beckon you closer. You decide to be brave, take initiative. You get up from your seat, standing next to him. Still holding his hand, you pull him up. “Yeah? Wanna show me if everything else stayed the same?” You coax him up, getting closer to him. His smile grows wider, and he stands up and wraps his arms around your waist. “Gladly, baby.” You wave to your friends, who honestly can’t tell if it’s the right thing to let you go with him, but decide to let you. If it’s a mistake, at least you’ll learn from it.

He leads you to his car, a sleek black sports car parked in the virtually empty private parking lot out back. The perks of being famous apparently include better parking. He unlocks the door, letting you sit down first. He climbs into the driver’s seat, turning his body to look at you. “So, my place or yours-” Before he can finish that thought, you reach over, grabbing his face and kissing him gently. He is clearly shocked but quickly leans into it, growing more passionate by the minute. He turns and grabs your hips, trying to get you closer to him. You didn’t realize how completely touch-starved and needy you were until right then. You pull away and take a breath, panting lightly in sync with him. Your hand travels down his chest slowly, dancing towards his crotch. You feel his breath hitch under you, lightly whimpering at the feeling.

Lightly brushing against him and teasing him further, he starts to grow needier, pleading eyes looking directly at you. “Please…please love…” he whines out. You decide to be nice, but not that nice. Slowly unzipping his fly and freeing him, he hisses at the feeling of the cool air in the car. Gently taking him into your hand, you truly forgot how big he is. You lean over, spitting onto his dick and slowly stroking him. He starts to moan lightly, flinching as you flick your wrist over the tip. “Ah-h! H-heyy…stop teasing…” he looks through his lashes, desperation evident.

Finally giving in, you lean down, taking as much of him into his mouth as you can at this angle. He gasps, leaning back and biting his finger to stop himself from being too loud. You look up, wide eyes meeting his. You lift your head, taking a deep breath. “Don’t quiet yourself. I wanna hear those pretty moans, baby.” His eyes lightly roll back at your words, moaning louder when you return to his weeping cock, keeping a quick, almost torturous, pace. He shakily reaches out to grab your head, not forcing you down, just feeling you and trying to remain stable.

You lift your head again, kissing him hard and rough. He desperately tries to keep up, lips slipping against yours messily. You take his hand, leading it down to your crotch. “Touch me, love. Please, I need it.” You rasp out, making him shiver. As he reaches into your underwear, he nearly melts at the feeling of how wet you are. His fingers gently curl into you, feeling you pulse around him hungrily. He gently pulls his hand out, looking at the slick on his fingers before shoving them in his mouth greedily. Groaning at the taste, he reaches his free hand out to grab your thighs, feeling your soft skin under his desperate touch. “Mmfph, alwaysh taste so goodf me,” he tries to speak with his fingers still in his mouth, not wanting to stop. He tries again to taste more but you stop him, to many protests.

But they quickly stop when you take you underwear off, slipping it out from under you and tossing them in the back seat. “Push your seat back,” you state casually, but you both know it’s a command. Hurriedly, he scrambles for the seat controls, moving himself as far back as possible. He looks to you, then down at himself. He pulls his pants and underwear down further, then looks to you excitedly. Carefully, you reach your right leg over him, straddling his lap. You can feel him throb against your leg, impossibly fast, and the wetness he can’t seem to stop. You pause, looking down at him. “I want to hear you say you want this before I do anything. If this is how we rekindle our relationship, it’s starting on a good note. And if not, then it’ll end on one. But I need to hear you say it.”

Quickly, he grabs at your thighs, tight grip digging into you. “Yes, yes, please. I need you. I’ve missed you so bad and, and just want to be with you right now. I need it. I need you. Please…” His desperate pleas and pathetic expression shoot to your core, you can feel yourself growing even wetter. That was all the motivation you need as you lift yourself up and grab his dick, lining it up with teasing touches against you, earning groans and gasps every time. Finally, you start to sink down, wincing. It’s been a while and Johnny is a lot to handle. But he doesn’t notice. His head is thrown back, strings of long whines, moans, and other pornstar sounds pouring from his mouth. His sounds are motivation enough as you sink down as far as possible. It’s like you knocked the wind out of him, gasps are all you get out of him for now. You take a second to adjust further.

Then, you begin to move. Hips rocking back and forth, forehead pressed into his shoulder. You speed up, bouncing on him as you basically use him. It’s not like he minds, whimpers echoing through the car, hands death gripping onto your ass as you ride him. He genuinely can’t control himself, babbling near nonsense. You can make out a few of the words he’s saying in your ear. “Love”, “s’good”, “missed this”, and “feel incredible” is about it amongst the uncontrollable moans. You can definitely tell that it's been a long time. I mean, he’s usually pretty whiny, but this takes the cake. 

He manages to get a solid couple of sentences out in his fucked out state, wrapping his arms around you like a hug. “I missed you so bad, I knew it was a mistake. No one that feels this good could be bad. I missed being yours, missed having you use me like this. I love it, I love you.” His hips jerk upwards without rhythm, desperate to get off. His words egg you on further, speeding up and absolutely shaking the car. His grip on you tightens as you can tell he’s about to cum. You whisper shakily into his ear, “Come on baby, cum for me. Be a good boy for me.” With that, he finishes with a loud cry, a death grip around you and shaking thighs. He trembles beneath you, still sensitive from the comedown. You smooth out his hair, brushing the hairs stuck to his forehead from sweat. Still fuzzyheaded, he kisses you tenderly, full of love.

You slowly climb off and get back in your seat, catching your breath. But you don’t have long, as Johnny grabs your leg and twists you. Exposing you as you lean against the car door, you barely have time to think before he dives in, eating you out with such fervor that you genuinely can’t believe he got down there that fast. After his sweet words and all that you’ve done, you’re not that far from the edge. He hasn’t forgotten all the ways to make you cum though, as he quickly gets you even closer. He rubs his nose against your clit, causing you to jump at the sensitivity. But then, his head backs up slightly, which you can’t take at this moment. You have to finish. You grab his head, fingers tangling in his hair, and fuck his face hard. He is moaning again at this point, your pleasure gets him off just as much as his own. You lose the ability to think about anything but cumming, your sole goal. Finally, you finish, your grip on him loosening. But he stays just as close, burying his face in you and lapping up your cum mixed with his.

He finally pulls away, both of you gasping for air. You are suddenly much more thankful for being parked in a more secluded area. After what feels like forever, you turn and whisper out, “Am I as good as you remember?” Turning his head, he laughs and whispers, “Better than I remembered.”

[untaemedqueen]

A Lions Pride

Mafia Leader!Jimin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Dark Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Series Warnings: Death (On Page), Blood (On Page), Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), MCD, Dark Romance, Dom!Jimin, Sub!Kitten, Guns, Knives, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Anti-Heroes

A/N: This book is dark. I mean, it is a mafia book but it is going to test everything you know about Jimin and Kitten. Jimin is NOT a good man, we know this. We know what he does for a living. Some things Jimin or Kitten will do will have no remorse and once we understand this, we can truly enjoy their journey. Good luck, squad~ Enjoy the ride~!

Chapter Warnings: Car Chase, Possessive!Jimin, Daddy!Kink, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Hair Leash, Fellatio, Deep Throating, Multiple Orgasms, Cream Pie

Chapter 1. 

Your body clock is not working properly. You should have already been up by now, waiting for the alarm to go off so you can get out of bed. But this morning, you're roused by the loud screeching of your alarm with a wince.

Tilting your body towards the noise, your hand raises only to slam down on the device with a sharp thud.

Your eyes open blearily only to take in the paintings you've acquired over your years of marriage.

"Easy, kitten," your husband grumbles, wrapping his arm around you and burying his face into your neck.

"I have to get up," you whisper, clearing your throat of sleep.

"No," Jimin breathes defiantly, curling his hand around your waist, "Stay. I'll get the cubs to school."

"It's Wednesday, it's your day to rest."

Jimin lifts his head lazily, one eye opening to take you in as the sun begins to rise and highlight your bedroom in beautiful colors.

"You're five months pregnant, you should rest."

"Don't tell me what to do," you whisper, booping his nose and throwing the covers off of your body.

Running a hand through his hair, he grabs your pillow as you rise only to pull it towards himself.

Even after all these years together, you're still the most beautiful woman your husband has ever had the pleasure of knowing. He is the luckiest son of a bitch and he'll be damned if you don't know it.

"Kitten, have I ever told you how hot you are?"

You hum gently, feigning confusion. Standing tall, you stretch out your limbs which are achy and dull with pregnancy pains.

"Not enough," you chirp playfully, grabbing your robe.

"You're very hot, baby," your husband breathes into the pillow below his face.

"You're pretty hot, too, daddy," you quip, heading to the bathroom.

Your husband groans long and low, lifting his head as you shut the door. "Don't get me excited when you're leaving!"

"Hawon," you breathe, blinking at your nine year old daughter as she steals one of Hana's pieces of toast.

"What? She's not gonna eat it," she mumbles, with a full mouth.

"What did we say about talking with your mouth full?" Jimin inquires, making himself known as he waltzes around the breakfast bar.

He kisses your temple, grabbing his coffee cup. "Thank you, Chae."

The sweet maid simply nods, going back to cleaning the oven.

"Talking with your mouth full makes you choke to death," Minseok announces, looking up from his Nintendo Switch.

"Who told you that?!" your husband cries, choking on his coffee.

"Uncle Yoongi!" Hana cheers, grabbing her orange juice.

You can only roll your eyes, nudging your husband with a scoff.

Raising children in a family of gun runners and murders isn't as easy as one might think.

"I'll talk to him," he promises, taking a sip of his coffee and sighing.

"Mom?" Hana asks, swinging her legs sweetly.

"Hmm," you hum, wiping Sejeong's messy mouth as he grabs handfuls of scrambled eggs.

"Why are you having a stinky boy and not a girl?" your youngest daughter breathes.

"Girls are stinky! Not us! You smell!" Minseok retorts, pointing his finger at his little sister.

"Do we point at people? Is that nice?" you ask your son as Jimin grabs his little hand.

Your husband bites down on his index finger gingerly, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Girls are still stinky," Seok huffs, folding his arms.

Mornings are always filled with this sort of family banter and Jimin loves it, if he's being honest. There's something so satisfying about seeing his family grow and interact and love one another. For years he never expected to be able to have something like this and now the head Lion finally has it all.

Running his hand over your pregnant belly, he sets down his coffee.

"Daddy?" Hawon chirps, grabbing her glass of milk and looking up from her book.

"Hmm, princess?" he breathes, looking over at her.

"Can I have twenty dollars?"

"For what?" he asks, pushing some hair back behind her ear.

"There's this new book at the school fair today about the reference and identification of the most significant amphibians, reptiles and mammals. I'd like to read it."

You can only smirk at her wide eyes, how excited she gets about reading. You were never studious and neither was Jimin, so you constantly question where this big brained daughter came from late at night during your pillow talks.

"Nerd," Minseok breathes, burying his face back in his game.

"You're a nerd," Hawon mumbles, holding out her hand and smiling widely.

Jimin kisses the top of her head and opens up one of the multitude of hiding spots of money only to produce a twenty dollar bill for his daughter.

"Can I have twenty?" Hana beams, holding out her own small hand.

Your husband chuckles deeply, the sound soothing your soul.

"What does my six year old girl need?"

"...Ice cream?"

Snorting softly, you pass Sejeong his sippy cup as he wobbles pleasantly within his high chair.

"I'll buy you ice cream later, I promise," her father whispers, kissing her forehead.

Turning your head to the clock, you stand up straight. "Alright, let's go. School time."

"Uuuugh," Minseok groans, jumping off the bar stool and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"Hey, mister," Jimin breathes, putting a hand on his son's shoulder, "it's too early for an attitude. If the school calls me again today, I'm taking your Switch away. Understood?"

"Mkay," Seok murmurs, pouting at you.

"Come on," you breathe, handing the bib over to Jimin and kissing his temple.

"Be careful driving. Take care of my little man in there," he whispers, running a hand over your stomach, "I love you. Love you kids!"

Your children mumble their love as they leave your large penthouse apartment and you give him a quick kiss on the lips before following after them.

"Jeong, when you get older you're gonna be a good boy, right?" your husband asks your smallest baby, getting down to his height and sipping his coffee.

The baby sputters his tongue and lips almost as if answering the question perfectly and Chae laughs, grabbing some bowls off of the breakfast bar.

Jimin narrows his eyes at his son and pinches his chubby cheek sweetly.

There's something about your days being so regimented that it brings you peace. Albeit, they can be a little boring but after your years of excitement -- boring is welcome.

You like hearing about Hawon's day and how she secretly whispers to you about a boy she likes in her class so Jimin doesn't hear. You like hearing about Minseok's adventures in pissing off Ms. Choi even though you'll have to chide him for it later. And you enjoy hearing about Hana's day as she tells you new words she learned and childish but fun science experiments.

But there are some days, like now, that the Vixen is pulled out of you by force.

Jimin wanted his kids to go to an esteemed, rich private school where a bunch of other mafia families drop their kids off for the day. He wants them to have a good education and understand that at the end of the day you need to work hard for your money like you both have.

After dropping them off, you round the corner to head to Hyunah's new restaurant when a brawl catches your eye.

Busan streets can be dangerous but they shouldn't be dangerous at eight o'clock in the morning. And you would have driven right by if a very, very familiar brand on some of the boy's necks weren't showing.

Slowing the Escalade down, your hand makes a fist and you punch the glove box open wordlessly. Grabbing your gun, you aim it at the window as it slowly lowers.

"You fucking pussy! Don't you dare ever touch my girl, you understand me?!"

Oh good, they aren't fighting about guns.

Whistling sharply, you stop your car in front of the eight men.

They angle their heads low to look in and when the four Lions spot you, they stand up straighter.

One of them catches your eye immediately and you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Who the fuck are you pointing a gun at, bitch? You b--" the man is cut off as the Lions tackle him to the ground.

"Oh," you breathe, looking down at your nails.

Shutting off your car, you climb out with a sigh.

The streets are quiet this morning and you count your stars that no ordinary person is passing by this old run down street at the moment. They might see something unfortunate that could scar them for life.

Rounding the car hood, you click your teeth softly.

"My little Lions, it's too early for this. You're gonna make me late for brunch," you hiss, smacking the Lion you know the closest upside the head.

"Noona, I'm so sorry," he whines, rubbing the back of his head as he cringes.

"Hoonie," you sigh, twirling your gun around your finger.

You watch with bored eyes as the men continue to fight and when one of them looks over at you, Sanghoon shields your body with his own.

"Who are you imbeciles anyway?" you inquire, motioning your hand for Hoon to stop all this nonsense.

"They're under Oh Byung, they're Hyenas and one of them touched my fucking girl like she was a piece of meat!" one of your Lion's hisses, being tugged away from the fray.

You look over your boys with a sigh, they're beaten bloody with split lips and black eyes but the Hyenas look even worse and you can deal with that.

Holding your gun up, you tilt your head.

It's only when a police car passes by that the Hyenas know who they're dealing with. They begin to smile at your audaciousness, hearing the siren as you hold your gun up in broad daylight but they begin to wither when you tilt your head slowly to the cop car.

"Hands up!" one of the police officer's screams, jumping out of the car.

You hold your hands up and flash them the tattoo on your wrist.

"Oh! Mrs. Park, good morning! These men troubling you?"

Twirling your finger, your Lions show their brands to the cops and they step behind you as you look down at your nails once more.

"Yes, they are. I'm late for brunch now because of these stupid morons. I'm pregnant, hungry and tired," you breathe, passing Sanghoon your gun.

He sheathes it under his belt and you sigh loudly once more.

"Do you want us to take them in?" the officer asks.

You look them over, they seem drunk and strung out and it wouldn't be in your best interest to get into a turf war with Oh Byung who you've never even met before.

"No," you surmise, heading back to your car.

"But, Madam! They touched my g--"

The Lion stops themself when you simply tilt your head. "If you have a concern about it, you can bring it up to my husband at the meeting tomorrow. You can ask for vengeance then. I, however, as I have said countless times already, am late for brunch. Do you expect me to have to stand here on some random filthy street while you exact your revenge and I'll have to clean it up for you by having to parley with Oh Byung?"

The sharpness of your voice makes the Lions wince and the Hyenas stare down at you in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Madam. I'll bring up the matter tomorrow evening. I apologize."

You hum in agreement, rounding the car.

"Officers, good morning. Sanghoon, get your fucking ass in this car before I kill you myself," you hiss, opening the door and climbing in.

"Yes, noona," he whispers, rushing over to the passenger side and slapping a Hyena on the cheek in passing.

Peeling away from the curb, you watch in the rear view mirror as the police begin to split up both of the groups and you roll your eyes with a sigh.

"You're better than that, Hoonie," you chide the flower boy.

With a whine, he leans over to put his hand on your growing bump. "I didn't even do anything, noona. It wasn't my fault."

Most of the Lions know just how much you adore this younger man, since you've raised him from just a mere pickpocket to the brute he is now. Everyone knows he's your favorite.

"You're supposed to be keeping them in line, not letting them fight in the middle of the street on a random Wednesday morning! C'mon, Hoonie, you need to be smarter than that!"

With a sigh, he nods and pulls away from you. "I'm sorry, noona. I'll be better."

"Yeah, you better be."

Stepping into the restaurant, you nod your head to the hostess and she smiles at you widely.

"Mrs. Park, good morning! Hyunah is waiting for you in the private room!"

You hum in agreement, taking off in the direction without a word.

As you walk, you don't feel the familiar presence of the man you just picked up off the street and when you turn around to look at him, you roll your eyes.

"Sanghoon!"

There the handsome man stands, leaning against the hostess podium with a toothpick between his teeth. His smirk is broad and handsome as he flirts with the girl. He looks over at you quickly, watching how your eyebrow raises and your hands come crashing down on your hips.

"Call me," he quips to the hostess, jogging to be by your side.

"I am gonna shoot you," you hiss at him, turning on your heel.

"Come on, noona. She was pretty hot," he breathes, pushing the room door open.

"You think everyone is hot," you scoff, smiling at Hyunah and taking off your sunglasses.

"Little Lion causing big trouble?" your friend teases, leaning over the table to kiss your cheek.

"Clearly. Morning, gorgeous," Yoongi breathes, kissing your temple and smacking Sanghoon upside the head.

"Ow!" Hoon whines, falling into his chair beside you and folding his arms.

Yoongi pulls out your chair for you and when you sit down, he stands behind you like always.

It's a weird dynamic Hyunah and him have now as their years go on. You expect him to always be by her side but that's never the case. He's always behind you, he's always been your confidante and your right hand man. You would have expected things to change but they never do.

Lighting a cigarette, your older friend leans back in her chair.

"Can you eat? Are you sick with this one?" she asks, ashing her cigarette.

"This baby is very good so far," you reply, throwing the word at her.

She hums in agreement, pouring herself a glass of sangria.

"What do you want to drink?" Yoongi inquires over your shoulder.

"Sparkling water," you reply.

"Hoon," your right hand man calls, leaving the room.

You watch them both leave and you quip an eyebrow to Hyunah as she sips her drink.

"Lioness…" she begins, crossing her legs, "promise me something."

Her voice is low with sorrow and you sigh.

"What'd you read in your tea leaves this time?" you jeer, folding your arms.

She doesn't smile, she doesn't take your words lightly like you expect her to. She just exists in the same space and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"Promise me you will always take care of Yoongi and the Lees. Can you do that for me?"

The tip of your tongue runs over your bottom lip and you pull the petal into your mouth to peel some skin off. She's deadly serious and it courses concern through your bones.

"Hyunah… What're you talki-"

"I said," she hisses, venomously, leaning forward, "promise me that you will look after my fucking family."

"You know I will. You know I promise," you breathe, confused.

She gives a small sigh of relief then. "I knew you would, I just needed to hear it."

"Care to tell me what's going on?" you inquire, watching the doors open up once more.

"No. I do not," she mumbles, pulling from her cigarette.

You watch the smoke shroud her face like some sort of ethereal veil and you clear your throat when Yoongi puts the water in front of you.

"Where's Sanghoon?" you mumble, grabbing the water.

"Hitting on the hostess," your friend replies.

You watch his eyes flicker over to his wife as he sits down and you can see an animosity in his irises that makes you want to shudder.

This man for the past nine years has loved his wife so completely and so confidently that this random flit of anger has you seemingly confused.

It wasn't like this last week or even four days ago when you last saw them.

Four days ago, Yoongi was all over Hyunah at one of your meetings and now he doesn't even seem to want to look at her.

"Let's order," the head of the Lees breathes, burning out her cigarette.

Yoongi wafts the smoke away from your face and when Hyunah gets up to leave the room, you search his eyes for understanding.

"Don't," he warns you softly, coursing his rough hands over his face.

"Yoon-"

"I said don't," he hisses, smacking the table roughly.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you put your hand to your stomach and he swallows thickly as his eyes follow your hand. "Just leave it alone. Please, Y/N, for me. Just leave it."

"I'm just confused," you whisper, leaning towards him.

He gives a short, full laugh only to roll his eyes moments later. "Yeah, you're not the only fucking one."

"You can talk to me, Yoongi. You know that don't you?"

He takes a short breath between his teeth, running a hand over the back of your head. "I know. But there's nothing to talk about, okay? Hyunah is just being Hyunah and while it hurts me to say it… She has to handle her own problems. She doesn't want to talk to me."

You cringe softly at his pained voice and you can only sip your water as the Vixen who brought you up in the world reenters the room. She watches her husband pull away from you and clearing her throat, she sits back down.

"I ordered you porridge, you're too skinny with this baby," she breathes, grabbing her linen napkin and draping it over her lap.

"Thank you," you reply kindly, folding your arms.

You wouldn't be the woman you are if you didn't try to get to the bottom of this. And knowing yourself, you will get answers whether they like it or not.

"Noona, I have a gun run," Hoon breathes, looking down at his Rolex.

"Then go," you muse, stepping out of the restaurant with Yoongi by your side.

Sanghoon gives an expedient nod, kissing your cheek goodbye and taking off immediately.

"That kid walks around like he owns this fucking city," your friend huffs, watching the Lion walk away.

"Oh, leave him alone," you laugh, shoving his shoulder.

"That's exactly why he acts that way. Because he knows how much you love him and how cute you think he is," Yoongi chides, opening the car door for you.

"He is cute," you agree, "I raised him."

The gun runner rolls his eyes, rounding the car and when he climbs in beside you, you simply blink at him.

"I said, don't start. Why are you starting?" he hisses, narrowing his eyes at you.

"I didn't say anything," you mutter, holding a hand up as you start the car.

"I can see it in your little Vixen face. 'What's wrong with her, Yoongi?' 'Why are you acting like this, Yoongs?' 'Please tell me!' Stop," the Lion grunts, folding his arms.

"Well if you can see it then answer," you breathe, pulling away from the curb.

"Y/N!" Yoongi yells, slapping his hand against the dashboard, "I told you already, she won't fucking talk to me about it! God, when you're pregnant, you're so fucking nosy. Shit!"

Stepping on the brakes, you watch him brace himself against the dash and you widen your eyes at him.

Grabbing the collar of his suit jacket, you pull him to you with hardened eyes.

"You don't take an attitude with me, Min Yoongi. It's not my fault that your wife is being silent. Don't you dare be this way to me. Do you understand?!"

The gun runner sighs, closing his eyes and pushing your hand off of him gently. "You're right, I'm sorry. I'm stressed out and I shouldn't take it out on you. You're just trying to help."

"If you need to take your anger out somewhere, you call Jina for one of the Golden Cage girls. You don't ever talk to me like that!"

"Fierce Vixen," he mumbles, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes.

The drive is silent for a while longer before Yoongi pulls out his gun and begins to clean it beside you.

When the Lion's are fucked up in the brain, when they're trying to work things out, they clean their guns. It's something they've picked up from Jimin after all these years.

"How many blocks have we driven?" Yoongi inquires, looking up from his lap.

"Uhhh, fifteen or so? Why?" you ask in return, tilting your head towards him.

"Make a left," he whispers, reassembling his gun with fast fingers.

You do as told, looking through the mirror behind you.

When a car turns the corner with you, you swallow thickly.

"Make a right," he breathes, pulling out the gun cartridge and counting the bullets.

Once again, you do as told and the car follows you.

"We have a tail," he announces, pulling out the burner phone.

Cracking your neck, you keep your eyes on the road as he calls someone.

There hasn't been anything like this to happen to your family yet in Busan and in a way it finally feels like you're being welcomed to the big city. No matter how fucked up it sounds.

"Park."

Your husband's voice is soothing and commanding on the other end of the line. Any nerves you would have begun to feel simply slink back into the recesses of your mind.

"Min," your friend announces, cocking his gun. "I'm with Y/N. We have a tail."

You can hear Jimin take a sharp breath between his teeth and you glance at the rear view mirror once more.

"They're gaining," you mutter, pressing your foot down on the gas pedal.

"Yoongi, you better look after my wife and baby, do you fucking hear me?!" Jimin yells.

You can hear the anxiousness in his voice and you find yourself smirking as the head Lion crawls out of his den at a steady pace.

"I hear you," Yoongi replies, putting the phone down on your lap.

"Kitten," your husband calls to you.

"I'm here," you promise, turning a sharp corner and bracing yourself.

"Kitten, are you okay? Do you need me to come and get you?"

"I'm a big girl now, Chim. I can handle a little car chase."

"Watch our baby boy," he pleads and you can just picture him staring out the window and running his fingers through his thick black locks.

Narrowing your eyes at the license plate, you take another sharp turn.

52 -- 5087

You relay the numbers and Yoongi nods dutifully as he puts them in his phone.

"Watch the fucking--" Yoongi screams, looking up from his phone.

"Kitten?!" Jimin yells nervously.

"God! Relax!" you yell back, turning the car away from oncoming traffic.

"Baby, please, be careful!" your husband whines loudly.

"You're acting like pussies! Holy shit!" you laugh, turning down a dirt road and stepping hard on the breaks.

"She always acts so fucking tough when she's pregnant like the baby is her shield or some shit!" Yoongi curses, shoving open the door and aiming his gun at the oncoming car.

"He better watch his fucking mouth," you hear your husband scoff.

Grabbing the phone off your lap, you also grab your gun and climb out of the car.

Holding the phone to your ear, you aim at the SUV.

"Jimin, earlier this morning some Lions were fighting with Hyenas. They might be trying to scare us or try to exact revenge," you calmly tell your husband.

"And let me guess," your husband hisses, "your favorite little boy was amongst them!"

Once the SUV stops and the doors swing open, Yoongi fires a warning shot high into the air.

"You step out of that car, I'm gonna put a fucking bullet in your goddamn skull! Do you hear me?!" your right hand man screams at the top of his lungs.

"Tell me where you are," Jimin pleads.

"Oh, baby," you coo softly, "don't worry about us, we'll be home soon. Can you ask Mirae to make me ginger tea?"

"Kitten, please. Tell me where you are and I'll kill these fuckers myself."

You ignore your husband, aiming your gun when a head pops up from the driver's side door.

Yoongi fires one more shot and the head ducks.

"You Lions are stepping on territory that don't belong to you!"

Yoongi chuckles, leaning against the car and closing one eye.

"We own all of Busan now! You go run and tell your boss that if he wants to act big then he can do it at a parley! You shoot either one of us, your whole family is gonna fucking die! Think carefully!"

You hum in amusement, climbing back into the car and brushing off your dress.

"See, I told you I'll be home soon," you tell your husband.

"Back the fuck up! Or I will shoot you where you stand!" you hear your friend scream.

You lean over the middle console and shove his door open for him as you begin to slowly back the Escalade out of the dirt road.

Yoong climbs back into the car, lowering his window and angling his body out of it. Holding up his gun, he flicks his hand and when the SUV starts to back out, he begins to laugh.

"I wish someone would give me a fucking reason to shoot them! Lord knows I could do with some stress relief right now!" he screams at the top of his lungs.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" Jimin inquires, curiously.

"See you when I get home?" you ask happily, pulling out of the dirt road and shooting one of the van's wheels with a wide smile.

"I'll be waiting, kitten. You know I would wait a million years for you," your husband breathes.

"I love you," you smile, driving back towards the apartment complex.

"I love you, too, baby. See you soon."

"You guys are gross," Yoongi murmurs, beginning to take apart his gun once again.

"You love it," you tease, putting your sunglasses on.

Stepping into your house, you smile at Mirae.

"Good morning, Madam."

"Morning, Mirae. Hi, baby," you coo, kissing Sejeong's forehead as the maid sets him down.

"Watch the baby," Jimin calls from the hallway and you turn to him with a smirk.

"Ginger tea is in the office for you, Madam."

"Thanks, Mirae," you breathe, looking over the apartment.

In truth, this apartment could rival the large estate you once lived in. No longer are there warm wooden walls to surround you but instead marble and granite meet your eyes. Jimin did right by his family, of course, as he always does. He renovated the top floor, ripping out the walls and doors until the whole place was one large home. All of your children have their own rooms and there's plenty more to spare which Jimin swears he'll fill them up over the next few years but you have no opinion on that matter. Your shared bedroom is way larger than your previous one and it has all the comforts you could ask for.

Peeling off his crisp black dress shirt, your husband tosses it carelessly over his shoulder, hooking it with his index finger. Walking down the large, sunlit hallway, your fingers brush over his hard abs as you pass him.

"Mirae, why don't you take Sejeong to your apartment for a while, hmm?" your husband breathes, following after you.

When you open up the office door, you watch Lion hop off of the desk like he knows he's going to get in trouble.

"Naughty boy," you hiss to him as he scurries out into the hallway.

Before you can even get to the desk, your husband is wrapping his arms around you.

"Are you okay, kitten? You're always so bold when you have boys inside you. You need to be careful," Jimin whispers, cupping your cheek with a soft hand.

"We're just fine," you promise, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

When you pull away, his fingers reach up to the nape of your neck and he twirls your hair around his fingers to keep you from moving. "If I remember correctly, you teased me this morning. You know how I feel about that, baby girl."

You whine softly, drifting your nails over the large tattoo that now covers his stomach and side, it's an homage to his family. Every cub he's had, you, his brother's, your names are scrawled across his skin for life.

"Who do you belong to, kitten?"

"You, daddy. Always," you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His free hand roams over your backside until he grabs at the skirt of your dress.

"This is expensive," you warn him, pull away.

He chases after your lips with a sly smirk, tugging you closer with the hand on your neck. "And who bought you this pretty dress?"

"You did," you reply, reaching down for his Versace belt.

Your fingers slowly tug at the leather until it hits the floor with a loud thud.

"And if daddy wants to rip this dress up, he'll just buy you a new one," your husband whispers against your lips.

Letting go of your neck, he grabs the bottom of your dress and the sound of ripping fabric echoes through your ears until you're scantily clad in just a bra and thong.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," Jimin groans wantonly.

When you jump up, he catches you easily, his hands settle beneath the globes of your ass and he presses you against the wall to open the office door.

"Watch the baby," he mumbles, biting his bottom lip as you suckle the thin skin of his neck.

His strides are quick and confident towards the bedroom and when you reach the solace of your room, he pulls you back to kiss him.

The tip of his tongue traces over your lower lip and when you open your mouth for him with a feeble whine, he groans long and low before you.

"Fuck," he curses, setting you down on the bed.

His fingers trail over your skin, producing goosebumps and you whine his name softly.

He kisses over your stomach, eyes on yours all the while as he makes his descent. When a gentle flutter makes itself known beneath his lips, he smirks.

"I know, mommy is impatient," he whispers to his son, tugging your thong until it's mere string.

"Daddy, please," you cry, spreading your legs.

If it's one thing that could never change between the both of you, it's just how easy it is to get you begging and panting with want for your husband.

"Oh? The tease wants to act like a little cum slut now, hmm?" your husband quips, spreading your lower lips with his fingers.

He finds himself groaning at the mess between your legs, shiny and slick with want for his large cock.

"Goddamn, kitten. You're fucking soaked," he hisses, slapping your pussy with the palm of his hand.

Your body writhes at the jolt of painful pleasure and the head Lion takes it upon himself to quell your pain. His pink, plush lips kiss at your throbbing clit, fingertips digging into your fleshy thighs.

"Daddy, please!" you beg once more.

"Mm mm," he denies you, sucking your throbbing bud into his mouth.

"I want your cock," you whine, taking your bra off.

"That's very clear, baby girl. Your pussy is a fucking mess. Daddy has to clean it up now since you're such a little cum whore," he murmurs, suckling your lips and licking a flat stripe over your weeping sex.

Your body sags into the bed, fingers carding through your husband's black locks of hair.

"God, this pregnant pussy tastes so fucking good," Jimin sighs happily.

It almost sounds like he wants to fucking cry. God, how he adores you.

"Fuck, kitten, I love you so much," he whispers against you, entering two fingers into your sodden core.

You sob loudly at the feeling, spreading your legs wider for more.

"I love you too!" you gasp, closing your eyes.

Curling his fingers to the soft patch of nerves inside of you, he diligently flicks the tip of his tongue to your clit.

"Oh my God!" he whispers against you, putting his free hand to your belly.

"Daddy!" you blubber, gyrating your hips for more.

"That's it, baby girl. Cum on daddy's fingers. Show me how much you love it," he coos, kissing up your body and replacing his tongue with his thumb.

He rubs fast circles, minding your stomach as his lips part around your puffy, dark nipple.

"Goddamn, you're ready to make milk already," he hisses, suckling softly on your sensitized skin.

Your fingers grip his hair harder and your cries are becoming stunted and small.

The invisible band within you is tightening and your husband knows it all too well as you clench around him rhythmically.

"Cum on my fingers, kitten. Good girl," your husband praises, rubbing tighter and faster circles to your nub.

There is nothing better than having you alone in this big bed, the only woman he could ask for, his soulmate.

"Right there!" you gasp, seeing stars paint your eyelids as he keeps his fingers taut to the nerves inside of you.

"Give it to me," Jimin orders, moving his hand so fast inside of you that you choke on a moan. He suckles at your nipple harder, leaving your belly to pinch and roll your other forsaken nipple between his fingers.

"Yes, yes, yes, daddy," you chant, feeling the invisible band within you break.

"That's my good girl," he whispers softly, fucking you through the orgasm and moving his fingers out of the way for you to squirt onto the bed.

He groans at the amount of wetness that squirts from you and when you open your hazy, love drunk eyes, you find your husband smiling down at you.

"Hi, there," he whispers, kissing you languidly.

You can feel how hard his cock is as it rests against your thigh in the confines of his suit pants.

Tugging him closer by his belt loop, you flip him onto his back with a simple shove.

"Mmm, kitten," he groans, tucking a hand beneath his head to watch you.

Your fingers are cool and confident as you undo his pants and when you kiss down his chest, he sighs content.

"Fuck, your lips feel so good," your husband murmurs, letting his free hand lazily caress over your hard nipples.

When you whine at the feeling, the sound goes straight to his cock and it twitches, begging for mercy. His plush bottom lip tucks between his pearly white teeth and he sighs loudly when you free his hard cock from the confines of his pants.

"Kitten, be a good girl for me," he coos, grabbing your hair with his fist and making a makeshift ponytail.

"Yes, daddy," you preen softly, kissing down his long length.

"Sexy little tease," he hisses, tugging on your hair gently.

Swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, his jaw tightens. His eyes roll into the back of his head and his chest puffs up with pleasure.

"Oh, kitten, fuck. Take it deep," he moans, tapping your throat.

Doing as told, you swallow around him until your nose nestles against his pubic bone and the sharp breath he takes between his teeth tells you just how good it feels for him.

"God, look at you, baby!" your husband whines, leaning up on his elbow to palm one of your breasts in hand, "you look so beautiful stuffed full with my cock and baby."

You hum in agreement, bobbing your head and getting sloppy on his cock.

His thick thigh muscles become terse and strained as pleasure shoots through him. His hips thrust on their own and he coos sweetly when fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks.

Brushing his thumbs against your cheeks, he moans your name loudly.

"Kitten! Fuck! Oh my God, you're gonna make be cum, baby girl!"

He tugs harder on your hair, eyes squeezing shut. Just when he's right about to cum, when you can feel his cock throbbing and thickening on your tongue, he groans. "Off, pull off, I wanna cum inside you, baby."

You hum in agreement, rubbing your thighs together for any friction you can receive.

"C'mere, kitten," Jimin whispers, sitting up against the headboard.

You whimper for him, spreading your legs over his own. His fingertips drift over your inner thighs and he sighs softly at how dripping wet you are.

"Watch my boy," he murmurs against your lips, positioning the head of his cock to your entrance.

You sit down on him slowly, moaning at the stretch.

"So fucking tight," your husband gasps, putting his hands on your hips, "your pussy is so wet, shit."

"Daddy," you gasp, curling your arms around his neck needily.

"I got you, baby. Take everything from me," Jimin whispers, kissing you passionately.

Your hips lift only to crash back down at a rhythmic pace. The head Lion's hands glide over your skin, tongue running over yours and swallowing your pleasurable cries.

There was no one in the world he could ever adore more than you and still to this very day he feels like the luckiest man in the universe.

Pulling him closer, he steadies you when his stomach smacks into yours.

"Easy, kitten," he breathes, cupping your face.

"Your cock feels so good, daddy! I love how big it is," you whine, throwing your head back.

His legs find purchase beneath yours and he thrusts his hips to meet you with every chance he gets. "Yeah? You love my big cock? You want to cum on it? Hmm? Wanna make your pregnant cunt cream all over me?"

You nod incessantly, mouth dropping open to give a silent scream.

"That's my good girl. Daddy loves your pregnant pussy, baby. Feels so fucking good," he groans, burying his face into your neck to suckle at your sensitive skin.

He feels it then, the rhythmic clenching around him that he knows so well.

"Right there, baby? You like it right there?" he taunts, grabbing your hips and fucking up into you faster.

Your nails dig into his shoulders and your eyes squeeze shut. "J-Jimin!"

"Oh my God!" he cries, laying you down on your back and thrusting into you with everything he has.

His plush lips suckle roughly at your nipple and he scoffs loudly as pleasure flows through him.

"Fuck, daddy! I'm go-gonna--"

"I know, kitten. Fuck, I feel it, it feels so good. Give it to me, baby girl. Please," he begs, putting your ankles over his shoulders.

His hand comes to settle at the apex of your thighs and he rubs sweet, unforgiving circles until your back is arching off the mattress.

"Just like that, baby. You're gonna make me cum. Your pregnant pussy is so tight for me," Jimin coos, kissing you roughly.

You cry out into his mouth as your second orgasm racks through you and with a groan, he flips you over.

Cupping your belly, he knocks your knees open wider until your head is hanging between your shoulders.

"Jesus Christ, you're so amazing, kitten," he praises, kissing over your shoulder.

"D-Daddy, your cock is so fucking big," you sob, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Yeah, I fucking bet it is. You love daddy's cock in your slutty little hole, don't you?"

You can only screech a million affirmations as he spanks the globes of your ass, burnishing his handprint into your skin.

"Y/N," he moans loudly when you begin to buck back against him.

"Cum inside me, daddy. Please fill me up. I want to drip with you," you beg, tugging his hand from your belly to your breast.

Burying his face into your neck, he pinches and rolls your nipple once more until his thighs begin to quake.

"I want you to walk around this fucking house with my cum running down your legs and my baby on display. Do you hear me, kitten?"

You nod incessantly, gasping when the head of his cock nestles against your soft cervix folds.

"Kitten!" he whines loudly, furrowing his eyebrows.

He gives sloppy, slow thrusts as his cum paints your velvet walls. Sighing loudly, he wraps his arms around you. Falling to your side, he kisses over the back of your neck.

"I missed you, kitten," your husband mumbles into your ear.

"This morning has been way too eventful for me," you breathe, closing your eyes.

"I have a lot of fucking questions for you," Jimin replies, rolling you onto your back and kissing your pregnant bump.

Rolling off of the bed, your husband grabs his briefs. You slip on his dress shirt, covering your breasts when the chill of the room finally seeps into your bones.

Pouring himself a glass of whisky, the head Lion fixes the waistband of his briefs. When he turns back to you, the smile that spreads on his face makes you raise an eyebrow.

"What?" you mumble, looking down at the shirt.

"Stand for me, baby," he coos, above the lip of his glass.

You do as he asks, walking over to him as he holds out a hand. Setting down his glass, he curls his arms around you as he faces the mirror.

"Look at you," he whispers, kissing your temple.

One hand falls below your belly and the other fixes his shirt to cover your breasts.

"God, I'm the luckiest man in the world," your husband chuckles, kissing the shell of your ear and swaying with you.

"You're gonna make yourself excited again if you continue on like this," you giggle.

Peering at your thighs as you begin to cream with his cum, he smiles wider. "You're right about that, baby girl. My cum looks so good on you, fuck."

Turning you around, he picks up his whisky glass once more. "Please explain to me what happened this morning, kitten."

You can only sigh, pulling him along with you to the bathroom.

He leans against the door frame, crossing his muscular legs and folding one arm beneath the other. Taking a sip of his whisky, he watches with loving eyes as you turn on the bathtub.

"Don't make the water too hot, my little man can't handle it," he reminds you, watching you strip off his shirt.

"After I dropped the kids off this morning, I saw some Lions fighting with a family I've never seen before. Hyenas."

"Who's the head of the Hyena family?" Jimin inquires, helping you into the tub and sitting down on the bench beside it.

"Oh Byung, I want Namjoon to look into them. They're also who tailed me and Yoongi earlier."

"Yeah, good idea, baby. We'll have Joon look into them… Also what the fuck is up with Yoongi? He's acting…-"

"Oh my God! I know!" you gasp, widening your eyes at your husband, "This morning was so fucking weird! When I had brunch with Hyunah… It seemed like they were on bad terms."

Jimin sips his whisky, furrowing his eyebrows at your words.

"Hyunah and Yoongi on bad terms? That doesn't sound right."

"I know! And she asked me to always look after Yoongi and the Lees like…like something bad was happening," you bleat, running warm water over your goosebumped skin.

"Did you press her about it? Did she say anything?"

You give your husband an incredulous look to which he simply hums in agreement.

"What about Yoongs, then?"

"He told me to 'mind my fucking business and don't start'," you recount, flashing your husband air quotes along with his words.

"I'll fucking shoot him in the neck… how dare he get snippy with you," Jimin hisses, setting down his glass.

"I mean don't get me wrong, we fight too and I get that but when he looked at Hyunah it was like… he fucking hated her. And I'm not just saying it to be dramatic, he really looked vicious and…and hurt."

The head Lion sniffs softly, staring at your belly as he lets your words process through his brain.

"I was only joking with her when I asked her what she saw in her tea leaves but she got so mad at me… like she saw red or something for even bringing it up."

"Huh," he breathes, tilting his head confused.

"I don't know. It seems like something to keep in mind and maybe even something to worry about if it doesn't get fixed," you bleat, grabbing the soap.

"Yeah, well, I don't want you worrying about anything. You just focus on making my baby boy big and strong. We'll deal with it if it comes down to it."

You give him a nod, laying back in the tub and sighing softly.

"I'm gonna go pick the kids up from school, you get ready for the meeting later, okay?"

"Okay," you promise, closing your eyes.

"I love you, kitten."

"I love you, too, Chim."

Setting your gun down on the table, you sit down in your large chair and when Joon enters, you toss your phone into the soundproof box like always.

"Hey, Y/N," he chirps, kissing your temple and taking his usual seat.

"She fucking ripped my hair out!" Taehyung curses, stepping into the large apartment that's now your meeting area and combing his fingers through his hair to see a very apparent bald spot through the mirrored walls.

"And why did she do that, hyung?" Guk chuckles, widening his eyes happily at the sight of you.

"Hi, noona!" he squeals happily, rushing over and planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

He runs a hand over your bump as he takes his seat beside you and you look incredulously at Tae who stomps his foot on the ground.

"Hyejin ripped my hair out because I taught Hyungwon what a 'pussy' is."

You can only snort, rolling your eyes at his antics.

"Hey, Y/N," he mumbles, sullenly, falling into his chair with a whine.

"You're the pussy," your brother-in-law laughs, stepping around the multitude of chairs to kiss your forehead. "Oh! Y/N! Jisuk made you and the baby a present if you wanna come over and grab it soon."

"Aw!" you pout sweetly, nodding to Jin, "I'll come over later to see it! How's my little Jungwoon?"

"He finally can eat scrambled eggs, you were right, he just needed a little more force to get solid foods down."

Winking at him, you watch the apartment door open once more.

This family has been getting bigger and bigger and you're so pleased to see everyone doing well.

"Uhm, noona?" Jeongguk whispers as Hoseok enters.

You lean over to him as he pushes his sunglasses up into his hair.

"Yunjin has been having a really bad rash down there and Vixen was wondering if any of your girls ever had that…" he mumbles into your ear.

Pulling away, you pinch his cheek sweetly. "Oh yeah, that might happen. You might have to put more powder on after her baths or change her diaper more so she doesn't sit in the wetness. Try some baby powder at first and then put some ointment on for a few days. If it doesn't get better, then take her to the doctor."

"Okay," he promises, nodding strictly and pulling out his phone to text his wife.

"Guk, come on," Hoseok says, kissing the top of your head and tossing his own phone into the box.

"Sorry, one minute," the youngest promises.

"Leave him alone, it's a serious concern," you breathe, looking down at your nails.

"Thanks, noona," he smiles, wrinkling his nose and tossing the phone into the box.

Yoongi and Jimin step into the space together and you watch your husband rolls his eyes.

Uh oh. What happened there?

"Guns," he breathes, pulling his gun from behind his back and placing it on the large marble table beside you.

He plants a chaste kiss on your lips and you reply in kind.

"Yoongi… phone," Joon says, grabbing the box.

Your right hand man sighs loudly and he throws the phone in with a grunt.

Drifting his fingers over the gnarled scar on his cheek, he pulls out a cigarette and lights it.

"Hyung, c'mon… you know noona is pregnant," Guk complains, wafting the smoke away from you.

"Did you knock her up? Is that your baby? Why are you so worried about what I'm doing? Worry about yourself, you hear me?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," your husband breathes, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What'd you just say?" the youngest asks clipped through his teeth, quick to defend your honor.

"I said mind your fucking business, Jeon Jeongguk before I fucking make you," the older man seethes, pressing both hands to the table and leaning forward.

You watch the smoke lazily rise, his scarred eye squinting to block out the toxic fumes and you only cross your arms at the sight.

"Burn out the cigarette!" your husband orders, grabbing his gun, "you know you don't smoke around my wife when she's pregnant."

"Well then I might as well quit smoking forever! She's always knocked up!"

You take a sharp breath between your teeth at how wrong he is to say those words and you flinch when your husband kicks his chair back with fury.

"Y'know, you're acting like me when I was a fucking head case," Guk spits, narrowing his eyes, "I almost lost my life because of it."

You watch the youngest lift his shirt to show his gnarled, large scar and thinking about that day at his warehouse makes your skin clammy and your stomach roll.

"Burn. Out. The. Cigarette," Taehyung hisses to his left, practically pleading with his oldest friend to do as he's told.

"Fuck!" Yoongi yells, throwing the cigarette on the floor and stomping on it repeatedly. "You happy now?! You bunch of hypocritical fucks!"

"What's up, man? Is it Hyunah?" Joon inquires softly, spinning his wedding ring around on his finger.

"Do you see my fucking wife at this goddamn table?! Do you see that woman anywhere near me?! Don't ask me stupid goddamn questions!" your right hand man screams at the top of his lungs.

Calmly, you stand up.

"Yoongi," you breathe, rounding the table.

"No, Y/N, just fucking stop," he sighs, burying his face in his hands.

"Easy, kitten," your husband says, cautiously.

"Yoongi, you can talk to us," you promise, leaning against the back of Namjoon's chair.

Your friend kicks back his own chair and he grabs your shoulders roughly. His eyes are pained and frantic, looking down at you with gritted teeth.

You sigh softly when everyone's guns cock loudly.

"I don't want to talk about it. Why can't you just leave it alone?! I have my own problems with my wife. Just like Hoseok. Just like Taehyung. Or Guk or Joon or everyone else! What do you want me to say?! That my wife is acting out of order? That she makes me sleep in a different fucking bed?! That she suddenly turned on me four days ago and she won't tell me what's wrong?! Is that what you fucking want from me?!" he cries loudly, slamming his fist down onto the table until you envelop him into a hug.

He buries his face into your neck and he hugs you so tightly that it makes you flinch. Namjoon puts his hand to your back to keep you upright as your right hand man sobs loudly.

Swallowing thickly, you run your hand over his back.

Jimin uncocks his gun and he motions his hand for the others to do so as well. Turning his back to everyone, he tilts his head.

Hyunah would never just act like this for no reason, she's so fucking strong. Hell, she had a personal hand in making you as strong as you are.

"Get off," Yoongi breathes, clearing his throat and pulling away.

You cup his face, wiping his now reddened cheek before stepping back and rounding the table to your seat once more.

Sitting down once more, you tilt your head to Jimin as he pours himself a glass of liquor.

When he turns back around, he kisses your forehead sweetly.

"Namjoon, I want you to look into Oh Byung. I want everything on him that you can possibly find," your husband announces, sitting down beside you and placing his hand on your belly.

Your friend simply nods, making a mental note of it. "You got it."

"Yoongi, I'm also sorry that you're going through the shit right now but Y/N has always been by your side, don't you dare ever speak to my wife like that again. I'll put a bullet between your eyes."

Your right hand man nods, staring down at the marble table with narrowed eyes.

"Any other agendas for this meeting?" you inquire, crossing your legs and looking down at your nails.

The Lion's voices begin to drone in and out of your ears and you can only feel your husband's thumb brushing loving strokes over your stomach.

Moving to Busan to get away from all the painful ties to life seemed all too easy and as you and Jimin sit side by side, you can practically hear each other's thoughts screaming at one another.

Yet another problem arises.

[skitskatdacat63]

Every time I read Fernando cursing in fic, I can only think about this clip and then my brain short-circuits

[navysvettel]

when your 1st teammate you were assigned when you were 19 and shy and weird who took you to his cousin's wedding and basically sugar daddied/ dommed you into being a real adult before abandoning you for ferrari and you try to act very grown-up and mature now but part of you will always turn back into that blushing 19 year old when he gives you attention but it's really just carlando

[tyrannosaurus-maxy]

🫣

[svgvru]

okay but imagine subby dazai who loves to be called Princess …🙏🙏🙏

admin ( posted for the first time in a while ) but like, ur so right nonnie omg. he'd be so cute! imagine him being his brat like self, pulling a couple of pranks, pushing buttons he knows he's not supposed to push, the usual. he'd play fight you, knowing damn well he can't win. he's a bit too frail, too thin and small compared to you. there's no way he'd win, but he tries regardless, whimpering when you pin him to the wall.

his right side his pressed firmly to the wall, one leg is keeping him afoot while the other is in your hold. his left side his folded due to your arms caging his leg to his head between your arms. he's completely trapped and under your control, his arms and legs of no use, just like he wanted of course. imagine slowly pushing into him, sighing at the way his walls feel. "you just have to be irritating, hm?" you grit your teeth, buck up into his hole, smiling at the way his dick slumps downwards due to gravity. "i thought you wanted to be my princess? well—then again, princesses tend to be bratty," you whisper, pressing sloppy kisses to his neck, "guess the slipper fits."

dazai whines at the nickname, his cheeks are reddend with blush as he takes your cock like a champ. his hazel eyes catch the way your cock bulges beneath his belly button, and he almost cums from the sight. "come on, princess. be as bratty as you need to," you coo in his ear, "'m right here."

a chuckle leaves your lips when dazai practically yells your name, muttering "mhm"s and "yesyesyes," over and over again. he's a cutie!