#its so tender and beautiful but it hurts so much
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cloudcountry · 6 months ago
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Hi, I was wondering if you could do Riddle, Leona, Jamil, Vil, and Malleus x Reader, where they catch Reader trying to wear an item of their clothing?
SUMMARY: they catch you wearing their clothing!!
COMMENTS: i tried to pick out parts of their dorm uniform that would be easy to snatch and wear hehe
expect for malleus bc he got away from me LMAO
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Riddle stops dead in his tracks when he sees you with his crown, trying your best to balance it on your head in front of his full-length mirror. His lips open and close, much like a fish out of water, and he knows Floyd would poke fun at him if he was here.
“Dearest, what are you doing?” he asks when he can finally get the words out, stepping into his dorm room and shutting the door quietly.
He left you alone for five minutes...
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Leona leans against the doorway with his signature smirk as you clip on his necklace, the colorful mismatched beads clicking against your skin. He says nothing, drinking you in until you notice him in the mirror's reflection and jump.
You’re so cute when you get scared. Not that he’d ever tell you that straight up.
“What kind of mischief are you getting up to in here, huh?” he saunters in, hooking a finger under the necklace you’re wearing, “Playing dress up? I’m hurt you didn’t ask me to play with you.”
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Jamil has so much jewelry, it's almost unthinkable. Each piece is more beautiful than the last so you’re so curious as to how they would feel! You’re super careful when you put on his bracelet and shoulder cuff, marveling at the snake design.
“What are you doing?”
You yelp, your favorite deadpan ringing through the air. Jamil stands in the doorway, looking at you with pure exasperation.
“Sorry! I just wanted to try on some of your stuff! I got curious.” you scramble to take it off.
“It looks nice on you.” Jamil says simply, and your fluttering heart stops you in your tracks.
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Vil’s crown rests heavily on your head. It makes you wonder how he wears it all day, managing an entire door while maintaining such a flawless image. It does make you feel more powerful, or maybe it’s the feeling that you must straighten your back.
“My dove...what are you doing?” Vil asks, amusement in his voice as he appears behind you in the mirror.
“Nothing!” you snatch his crown off your head and hide it behind your back, leaving yourself looking frazzled.
Vil coos and smooths down your hair, before swiftly snatching the crown back from you with a mischievous smile.
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Malleus watches from the doorway as you try on his gloves, inching them up your arms as his dorm uniform’s hat rests on your head. Something foreign rears its head within him, a desire to squeeze you tightly. It’s almost uncontrollable. Almost.
“Darling.” he breathes, brow furrowing with tender affection, “You look lovely.”
He brings you his coat, his pants, his shirt. He brings you everything and resizes it with his magic to fit you just right, until you look just like him.
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TAGLISTS -> riddle's roses . . . @amaribelt @cookiesandbiscuits @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb
-> leona's napping buddies . . . @loser-jpg @vivigoesinsane @dove-da-birb
-> jamil's jewels . . . @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb
-> vil's spudlings . . . @cookiesandbiscuits @vivigoesinsane @dove-da-birb
-> malleus's most trusted . . . @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @rosalianel @dove-da-birb
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elysianightsss · 10 months ago
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Another sweet sweet price thot💋
Okay but let’s talk about Mountain man Price. He retired a few years ago and decided he much prefers the solitude of the beautiful mountains, with the tips of them all covered in snow. He likes the quiet, knowing he won’t run into anyone here. No one from the little town at the bottom of the mountains would be brave enough to hike the mountain trail.
He remembers the day he built his nice log cabin with the help of his trusty lieutenant of course. Simon helped his Captain one last time, before parting ways. Price wanted to be alone, after everything he’d experienced in the military, he wanted it to be just himself and the weather to keep him company.
He’d have the survival skills no doubt about it, but the more time he spent up there the more his social skills began to fade away. He’d have to come down every six months or so to restock his food, he make his trip down the hike trail to the little town at the bottom of the mountains and through the woods.
But the shop workers weren’t his biggest fans. He’d practically clear them out of their stock, the poor little local shop. They didn’t like his attitude either, found him strange and unapproachable. Though that’s exactly what John was going for. The less people that spoke to him, the better.
Until he met you of course.
It was only your second week at your new job, you’d just moved to the little town around a month ago and this was the only job available after some woman called Darlene went of maternity leave.
My gosh the way you’d be so nice to him having no idea the stigma that surrounded him and how suprised he’d be at the kindness you showed him. He’d actually look forward to coming down to the town.
He’d come more often as well, saying he’d ran out of supplies and yet he’d only buy a bag of fruit or some meat. Then he’d start to tidy up his appearance too, trim his over grown beard and moustache back to its former glory. The blush that would spread across your cheeks the first time you see him like that.
Hair trimmed too, you’d be able to see his perfect lips and crooked smile. It provoked a feeling in you that you’d long forgotten. Slowly but surely he’d start trying to flirt. Trying. Though you found it endearing how bad he was at it. Finally though he’d succeeded asking you out on a date and fuck the moment he’d turn up in his dark blue jeans, black shirt and dark brown leather jacket and boots. You swooned.
He had the charm turned on, especially after his phone call with his ex team. They could all hear how nervous their former captain was for this date. It made them very intrigued to meet you one day.
John didn’t miss a beat, almost as if he’d laid this date out like a mission. Going step by step to win your heart. He made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt, made you smile until your cheeks ached. Ordered the food and drinks impressively, no umming or stuttering.
He gave you butterflies when he reached over the table to grab your hand in his larger one. The skin was rough and calloused, but it felt amazing against your hand. He loved how soft your skin felt against his. He traced around the palm of your hand with his thick index finger, those gorgeous ocean eyes gazing into your soul.
After dinner, John took you to a local bar that you were pleasantly surprised with. A few drinks later you tipsily confessed how handsome you thought he was. The longer the evening went on, the more longing looks and teasing touches were shared.
The evening ended with the two of you slow dancing until last call. The way your bodies pressed together, the intimacy and warmth. The way he’d always make eye contact, almost as if he was trying to read you. The way he held you so tender yet tight, his large hands on your body. It all just felt so right.
John walked you home, looking so sad when it was time to part ways. “Please, let’s do this again sweetheart.” When your manager Billy had called you that, it made you feel sick. Had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, disgust shivering down your body. But when John said it, damn. Your body shivered in delight, the deep mumble entangled with that delicious accent of his made you gulp back a lump in your throat. You swear your underwear was a little wet too.
You nodded leaning forward to kiss his cheek goodnight, John was quick to take your cheeks into his hands and press his wanting lips against yours. He was hungry and almost vicious when he kissed you, it made you wonder what kind of lover he was like as he pressed you against your front door and kissed you like he’d never get the chance again.
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star-sim · 1 year ago
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my love (mine all mine) ☆ jake sim
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☆ non-idol! jake x fem! reader ☆ summary: after years of abuse, jake is afraid of love, so why do you have to be so warm? ☆ genre: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, implied adult! au, very domestic ☆ warning(s)? domestic violence and abuse, poor parenting, 1 mention of self harm, implied mention of suicide, kinda indulgent sorry ☆ word count: 1.5k
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The earliest memory that Jake had was the sound of porcelain plates crashing against the tiled kitchen floor, and the wails of his mother. 
For a period of time, it was all that he could remember: going home to a cold house, hand-in-hand with his older brother, his heart pounding in his chest as his young mind wondered if Dad was going to hurt Mom again, or if they'd go back to loving each other tonight. 
He couldn't have been any older than nine when he experienced the wrath of his father first-hand, when he came to school in May wearing a long-sleeve shirt and long pants as if the early-summer weather wasn't rising, the scent of citrus filling the air. Sure, the bruises, and later scars (because of course, his father just had to try to stab him with a broken beer bottle), hurt, but nothing would compare to the silence that rang through the house after a screaming match. It would pierce his ears every single time, so loud that it was deafening, yet so silent that Jake could hear every single breath that his mother took as she pulled at her hair, driving blades into her skin, ignoring the quiet rumble of her child's stomach. 
He'd gone to bed hungry many times. Too many times.
But, perhaps the worst memory that Jake had was the morning after his seventeenth birthday. Jake spent his birthday outside the house, not wanting to be suffocated by the taste of salty tears and domestic violence in the air. He came back late, much later than he should have. 
Thank god, neither of his parents were home, and his brother was already off to college by then. When they weren't screaming at each other, physically assaulting their son, or neglecting him, his parents were either off to work, or hanging out with their sketchy friends, drinking all of their responsibilities (like their children) away like nothing else mattered.
Or so he thought.
Because the next thing he knew, his mother was shrieking at him, hitting him with the same hands that should have been cradling his face. And when his bastard of a father heard the commotion, it was almost like he was excited, excited to have an excuse to put his son in a chokehold. It seemed like the only time that his parents wanted to agree with each other was when they could hurt him.
As his lungs closed in on him, his choked breaths gasping for air while Jake tried to pry his father's hands off his neck, he felt light-headed, a fuzzy feeling filling his head until his body lost all its strength.
Jake swore that he would have died that night, if it weren't for the barks of the family dog.
If his perception of family, love, and marriage wasn't already warped, that early morning of his seventeenth birthday did.
He vowed to himself then and there, that he would never get married, nor would he ever start a family. 
Yet, as you held him in your arms, enveloping him with warmth as hot tears streamed down his face, Jake could feel all his resolve slipping away.
Indeed, his vow held up. It held up all throughout college and for years into his adulthood. He became known as the "single friend," the friend that was always the designated driver because he'd rather die than consume a drop of alcohol.
But then you pranced your way into his life.
You, with your beautiful face. You, with the brightest smile that he'd ever seen. You, with the softest, most gentle touch.
When you wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing tender kisses against the nape of his neck as you giggled a soft,"I love you," Jake's heart pummeled to his stomach.
It was suffocating.
His hands were clammy, so moist with sweat that he had to wipe his palms on his jeans. His chest would pound, loud enough for it to be the only sound filling his ears. His stomach twisted, a hot coil curling in his abdomen. It was nauseating.
But the worst was what he felt in his throat.
Something wicked— Something overwhelming and painful— clambered up his throat. It wrapped itself around his neck, pulling tight like the noose his mother threatened to put around her own neck. When it crawled up to his mouth, Jake nearly threw it up. He tried to swallow it down, but he gagged.
And it was already too late.
He'd already muttered the words, "I love you, too" back.
Love was terrifying. If he loved, what would happen? Would he get married, and enter a life of pure misery? 
And what if he had kids?
When Jake was angry and he looked in the mirror, he hated the way that all he saw was his father's eyes staring back at him. His mother always told him that he looked like his father anyway. 
Jake knew he wouldn't. He would never lay a finger on another person, let alone his own kin. But as days and years passed, his voice only sounded more and more like his own father's. He couldn't help the way his expressions scarily resembled his mother's, the same ones that he'd seen contort into fear, wrath, and indifference.
But here he was.
In the dark, his face was buried in your shoulder, the same ones that he'd kissed. You patted his back as he let out sobs, wet and salty tears wetting your skin.
It was another night, where you and him would hang out and flirt in your apartment, maybe do a little kissing. 
Maybe he shouldn't have laid down with you. Maybe he shouldn't have let you put your fingers in his hair, stroking it gently as he laid on your chest. Maybe he shouldn't have listened to your every word as you traced his face, muttering to him everything about him that you loved about him. He shouldn't have, he really shouldn't have. Especially when you ended it all with a kiss to his eyelids, whispering into his ear, "I can't wait to marry you one day."
Jake always did his best to contain his emotions. After all, he'd learn to do it so well because of his home life. No one had to know about his struggles.
Yet he couldn't help the wave of emotions that crashed down on his shoulders. One moment, he was smiling in your kiss, the next his face was wet.
It didn't help when you were so warm to him. You cradled his face, kissing his tears away, hands holding him like he was a piece of glass. 
"I'm scared," was all he could say.
Because that was all he felt in that moment.
Fear.
Fear, because he couldn't figure out why he was crying. 
Fear, because now all his emotions were spilling out. 
Fear, because you said you wanted to marry him.
Fear, because he, too, wanted to marry you.
You didn't let him go that night.
You stayed there with him, letting him cry into your shoulder until the sun rose. You didn't know why exactly, but the way he gripped your waist like you'd leave him was enough to tell you.
"I know, I know," you'd whispered into his ear. "I know, Baby."
All he did in response was pull you closer, and chant your name like it was a prayer, like you were his god and he was your worshiper.
Jake's favorite memory was the sound of wailing.
Not the wailing of his mother, not the wailing of his older brother, but the wailing of the child in your arms.
He could only watch with misty eyes as the small newborn clung to your chest, loud crying filling the hospital room. 
"Jakey," you said weakly, flashing him a smile. "Look what we made."
We.
That's right. 
This child was his and yours. As he held the baby, being careful not to do anything stupid, Jake stared into its crying eyes (as if his eyes weren't crying, too). 
When Jake looked at his child, he saw his eyes. He saw the same eyes that his own father gave him. He wasn't filled with fear, or anger, or guilt— he felt love. 
This child didn't have his father's angry eyes, the eyes that Jake spent his entire life believing he inherited.
No, this child had Jake's eyes, Jake's eyes that were filled with love.
You giggled softly as you watched your husband's intent and utterly fascinated gaze at your child. He snapped his head up at you.
"I love you," he blurted. He didn't say it a lot. It felt like poison on his tongue when he did, something unnatural and not meant for him. But in that moment, it felt like his entire being was made to say it. "God, I love you so much."
Yes, Jake would run. 
He'd run, and run, and run, from love. 
He'd run as far as he could, until his legs gave out.
He'd run for eternity, because he knew that one day, he'd walk to you.
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reignpage · 30 days ago
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Piercer!Geto
Kawasaki W800: flashing lights
Contents: 18+ mdni, huge foreplay, teasing, mostly fluffy, also wrote this high so again dunno how much sense this makes lol, not proofread
“No way.”
You’re staring at a motorcycle. It’s black and sleek and looks like a beast. The seat is low, none of the motorcycles you’ve seen look like that, but the handles are like horns, devilish and intimidating. Exuding danger, you note that every part, every piece of metal, looks heavy, expensive and merciless. If you were to touch the wrong thing, it’ll scar you. 
It’s a death trap. 
And your boss is leaning against it, smiling at you. 
“Come on, let’s go for a ride, pretty.”
You shake your head really fast, like a cartoon character. There’s no freaking way you’ll get on that thing; there’s no doors or seatbelts, and you’re not built to crash. You don’t even ride a bicycle, how could you possible be expected to board its rowdier, more reckless and wild cousin?
Suguru’s pressing his lips together to stifle a laugh. You’re backing away, lips slightly parted and brows furrowed. It’s a look of pure fear and you’ve never looked more endearing, he thinks. 
Pushing off, he stalks over to you, grabbing your scarf, which is really his but it looks better on you, and keeping you in place. You both have to bend your necks to meet each other’s eyes, and it reminds you of that time in his office. A moment that keeps you up at night, leaves your gasping and dreaming of more. 
He peels the scarf, the soft material grazing your chin, and he pushes it down with two fingers, revealing the smooth expanse of your neck. It’s bruised. When those very fingers brush over that tender flesh, you tense, breath lodged in your throat. 
“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” His voice is low, just above a whisper, a sweet cradle as he scrutinises your face for any signs he had gone too far. He finds none. If anything, you wished he had gone farther.
You shake your head. “No, I’m okay. It was nice.”
Huffing a laugh, he wraps you back up, untucking your hair from the back and pulling your jacket close. “Let’s get going, shall we?”
Your heart drops. He distracted you from the torture you’re about to face. Curse that handsome face. And when you try to pull away, his soft hands turn firm. 
Tutting, he gives you a warning look. 
“But Suguru, it looks so scary!”
Brushing an errant hair from your face, he gives you that soothing smile, the one that makes you feel like all is well and nothing could ever hurt you. But then you glance back at that monstrous creation and you don’t believe him anymore. 
Grasping your shoulders, he brings you closer, somehow managing to pull you as you dig your heels. The thing looks like it bites. 
Waving a hand at the bike, he says, “Tamamo, meet my pretty girl. Pretty, meet Tamamo.”
Whether from pure fear or sheer stupidity, you wave at the bike. He’s named it. Your boss gave his bike a name. Maybe you’re all insane. You don’t want to admit it, however, but the longer you stare at the bike, the less frightening it looks. The seat actually looks pretty comfy. 
Hanging off a handle is a helmet, you let him place it on your head and you’re sure you look stupid: big puffer jacket, face covered by a scarf that smells like burnt oak, and a matte black helmet with colourful stickers of rock bands and random cartoons and landmarks. 
Suguru, on the other hand, has his hair up in a bun, one loose lock falling over his forehead, and he’s wearing a leather jacket. The material stretches over his broad shoulders, hugging him so deliciously you can’t help but reach out to feel it. He’s fastening the strap under your chin and you’re skimming your hand on his chest. 
He smiles at you and then grips your wrist, thumb brushing the skin before he tightens his hold. 
“Good girls ask before touching, yes?”
You nod. 
It’s like he’s hypnotised you; you’re cursed to find whatever he says beautiful because he’s beautiful. And that giddy feeling he’s invoked in your chest makes you grin. “Can I touch you, Suguru?”
“Quickly,” is all he says, but you don’t miss the look of pride that flashes in his eyes. 
You push the opening of his jacket wider, placing your cold hands on his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin seep through. That should be enough, that’s much further than you should go with your boss, but it feels too goo, too right. Your hands falls and they creeping up his shirt. Skin on skin, you breathe out, mesmerised by the flex of his abs. 
“Fuck!” He hisses. “Your hands are cold, angel.”
You mutter an apology, but you don’t move. You’re enjoying the hard ridges of his body too much to do so. A beat or two passes and you know your time is up, but just before he says somethings, one hand flies up to brush against a particular part of his body you’ve been curious about since the day in his office when his chest was pressed to your back. 
Metal.
“You could have just asked,” he teases. There’s not a hint of surprise on his face, but there is a red tint on the tips of his ears. “Alright, you’ve been pampered enough, shall we?”
Well, you did just grope the man, the least you could is ride him. His bike, you mean. His bike. There would be no riding of men, especially not when you established your boundary and insisted on taking it slow. 
He climbs on first, revving the engine, and the roar makes you flinch. It’s so loud, it’s the only sound in the otherwise quiet street. This is your chance to escape, to make a run for it whilst he’s not looking, but the way his legs are spread, the tight jeans are hugging his thick thighs, you want to see where this goes. 
So, you grasp his shoulder and saddle the motorcycle, body pressed tight against his. Your hands are clutching his jacket, thighs against his, and he reaches his arms back to pull you even closer. Arms wrapped around his waits now, you cling on for dear life, his torso your only anchor. 
“Ready, pretty?”
When you nod against his back, he zooms off. 
Wind rushes against your face, nipping at your skin, sharp and chilling. But his warmth washes away the freezing sensation, the vibrations warming your thighs too as the engine is pushed to its limits. The world is a blur around you, hard to even tell where you are and what street you’re going down, but you trust Suguru.
Heart pumping faster than it ever has been, your hands clutch at him tighter, creasing the material of his shirt. Every lean, every turn, every acceleration, every roar of the engine sends a thrill through you, adrenaline shooting through your veins. It’s all so reckless and carefree, but as you watch his careful twists and turns, you know he could go even faster, could amp it up to make himself feel the thrill, but he doesn’t. 
Somehow he knew just how much to give you until you’re lightheaded and a breathless laugh is escaping you from the pure exhilaration. 
Your boss always knows. 
There’s a fluidity in his movements, as if he knows these roads like the back of his hands, it reminds you of his artistry as a tattoo artist — the way his wrists flick in controlled and precise movements, needles angled just right to get crisp, thin lines, casting shadows and light where his eyes sees them. 
He’s bringing the streets to light. 
And you’re his accomplice. 
You’ve never been more elated. As you watch the city pass by, you realise your cheeks are hurting; you’ve been grinning nonstop, eyes wide and trying to take it all in: the flashing lights, the streaks and blurs of pedestrians, cars rolling to a stop or waiting in traffic, that smell of smoke and gasoline filling your nostrils. 
If your sister could see you, she’d collapse, though not before she snitches to your parents, that’s for sure. 
Somehow, none of that matters, not when his body is keeping you tethered, reminding you this is real, that you’re not flying off into space or disappearing into dreamland. You’re here, with him, and there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. 
A red light. 
You stand in traffic, the engine quieter now, but purring beneath you. Suguru’s fingers taps the back of your hand and you know, without the need for words, that he’s asking if you’re okay. You squeeze tighter in an affirmative. And then, almost like you can’t help yourself, you bite his back. It’s a light nibble, really, and you don’t know why you do it. His back is just so wide and firm. It’s unlikely he even felt anything but a light pressure through the layers. 
Suguru grips your thigh, pinching in warning. You tighten your thigh’s grip around him, too. And as you both wait for the lights to change, you lean against his back, enjoying his warmth and his comforting scent, as he continues to knead the fat of your thighs. 
Yellow and then green. 
And you’re off again. 
Eventually, he pulls up to your apartment, and you don’t want to let go. Your heart is still beating a hundred miles per hour and you’re so warm and so comfortable, you don’t want to get off. 
He doesn’t say anything. Just drums his fingers against your hand and brushes a thumb against your knee. It’s intimate, and you know how it looks. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re aware you should say goodbye, should place distance between yourself and your boss, but it feels wrong to do so. Holding him is what feels right and you know there’s nothing you’d rather do, even when you’ve got a bunch of homework to do. 
“Enjoy the ride, angel?”
You nod. 
“Let’s use our words, please.”
“It was fun.” Your voice is shaky, the after-effects of the adrenaline creating a tremble that makes him clutch your knee tighter, in a quick pulse. “Thanks for picking me up, Suguru.”
He pats your thigh and promises, “I’ll pick you up whenever you want.”
And you have to know he means it. 
So you raise one hand higher again, this time over his shirt, slip it under his jacket and press it against his chest, right where his heart is. It’s beating fast. Just as fast as yours is. That makes you smile. 
“Are you guys gonna fuck in the streets? Cause if you are, then I’ll throw down a condom.”
You wince. How could you forget your sister’s at home tonight?
You didn’t even check to see if the lights on the 3rd floor were on when you two pulled up, and now she’s leaning over the balcony railing in her oversized shirt and panties, barefoot, hair in curlers, and a green face mask. 
“Well, aren’t you a polite little thing?” Sugar fires back, no real heat in his words, but he is smiling at her with the same smile he gives to mean clients. The one that screams ‘you’re getting in my way’. 
“Polite is reserved for gentlemen. And you, my good sir, are no gentleman. I mean, how dare you!” She’s wagging a finger at him from all the way up there, waking the neighbours, no doubt, as she gives him a proper scolding. “What time is this? This is way too late for my baby sister and you’ve brought her on your stupid motorbike? Which one is this? Daruma?”
You swing your leg and climb down, annoyed by your meddling sister whose voice is shrill and uncaring. She ruined a perfectly beautiful moment and you’re going to steal her pink heels just for that. 
Suguru follows suit, unfastening your helmet as he shouts back, “No, Tamamo.”
“Ah, is that the one Gojo doesn’t like?”
“Yeah, it almost crushed him.”
Free from the helmet, you blush at the realisation that your hair must be a mess. But your boss doesn’t seem to think so as he roves over your features, a small smile, a genuine one, playing on his lips. He fixes your hair, brushing it down and fluffs up your, or rather his, scarf. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
You nod. “Thanks again, Suguru.”
“It was my pleasure, pretty. Go in and get some sleep, you’ve worked hard today.”
You’re about to walk away, body turning, when an urge overwhelms you. Using his jacket as leverage, you tiptoe and press your lips to his. It’s a peck. Not quite as heated as you would have liked, but it’s still nice. It’s sweet and soft and it makes your lips tingle. 
He blinks, then he’s cradling your face in his hands and pressing his lips harder against yours. Fire burns through you, goosebumps rise along your skin, eyes fluttering close. It’s a real kiss. It’s still soft, but as it deepens, there’s sparks intensifying, urging your closer and closer, until there’s not a single atom that isn’t touching his. His hands are firm, keeping your face steady, and he slips one to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair.
You shiver when he sucks on your bottom lip, his tongue slipping in when you gasp. Each graze is fluid, a careful balance of forward and backwards, of giving and taking, as your tongues dance to a tender music. 
Running out of air, you break the connection, breathing hard and fast as you stare at him. Your lips feel tingly and swollen and you want to go back for more. But he presses a kiss to your forehead instead, brushing your lips with a thumb and then he’s pulling away, almost just as out of breath as you are. 
His hands clench and unclench beside him. 
And with even shakier breath, you whisper, “Goodnight, Suguru.”
“Goodnight, pretty girl.”
“Goodnight, Geto,” your sister mocks from the balcony, voice extra exaggerated as she stands with her back to you both, arms wrapped around her as she mimics your kiss. 
You clench your teeth. 
She’ll never see those pink heels again. 
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iuchamjohta · 4 months ago
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Pretty, Cutie, Kittie, Minnie
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Male Reader X Minnie
(5612 words)
Enjoy! See end for notes! She was too irresistable I had to write something :D no tags! other than the obvious petplay shall leave the rest for surprises. Didnt proof read so sorry if there are errors.
Work calls and meetings were the bane of your existence, constantly pulling you away from what you truly cherished. You longed to be at home with the girl you love.  After being away for just nine hours at the office, it felt like an eternity. You drove home with a sense of urgency, eager to escape the constraints of your day and return to the comfort you craved, to who was waiting for you at home.
As you reached the doorstep, your hands trembled with anticipation as you fumbled with the keys. With a hurried twist, you flung the door open, your heart racing. The sight that greeted you made your fatigue melt away in an instant. There was, Minnie—your girlfriend and kitten—wearing a playful set of cat ears and a charming maid costume.
She knelt gracefully on a plush pillow, her eyes beaded with excitement as she awaited your return. A wide, relieved smile spread across your face, and all the stress of the day seemed to dissolve in the warmth of her welcoming presence.
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“Look at you, little kitten,” you exclaimed with excitement, gently patting her head softly. “What a perfect kitty you are. I’ve missed you so much,” you cooed. Even though you see Minnie every day, you never could grow tired of her. You find yourself continually admiring her cuteness and beauty as if you were seeing her for the very first time.
Minnie looked up at you with her kitten-like eyes, clearly enjoying the gentle pats you gave her. You ran your fingers through her hair before lowering your hands to cup her soft cheeks, massaging them tenderly. Minnie purred and nuzzled her face deeper into you, savouring the affection you were showing her.
“Such a good kitten for daddy, Daddy’s got a gift for you”. From your bag, you pulled a delicate pink collar, with a small bell that jingled softly. In the middle of the collar, engraved her name in silver beautifully. It was a gift that signified who she truly belonged to. Her eyes sparkled at the beautiful gift as she tilted her chin back exposing her neck. 
“Thank you daddy.” Minnie said as she looked at you in appreciation. You moved behind her, running your fingers on her neck, giving it a little squeeze before fastening the collar around her slender neck. The pink satin contrasted beautifully against her pale skin, and the bell chimes softly with each movement.
You adjusted the collar until it was an appropriate tightness so that it was not too uncomfortable for Minnie. You loved her after all and the last thing you wanted was your precious kitten to get hurt. Finally, you attached the leash to the collar, connecting you to her, a symbol of submission. You were about to engage in your favourite play time with her. 
“Let’s start with a walk, shall we?” You said, tugging gently on the leash. Minnie follows obediently, crawling on her hands and knees, her movements graceful and sensual. The tiles on the floor rubbed against her knees and palms, but it only reminded her of her commitment to you. You guide her around the living room, watching the enticing sway of her hips as she moves. You couldn’t help but land an open handed spank on her ass, watching the pale skin slowly turned red. 
“What must you say kitten?”
“Thank you, Daddy” her eyes are fixed on you, filled with devotion. Your fingers went lower, gently grazing her folds, feeling its wetness. “Naughty kitten, already wet from getting spanked”. 
You lead her to the sofa and sat down, pulling her closer until she kneels between your legs. The position is perfect, her face at the ideal height for what you have in mind. You stroke her hair, your touch tender and commanding before guiding them down the side of her face until your thumb brushes lightly against her lower lip. With a delicate motion, you eased Minnie’s mouth open just enough to slip your thumb inside. 
Minnie responded by sucking on your thumb gently. You added your index finger, using your thumb and index finger to roll around her tongue, in which Minnie responded by opening her mouth wider and sticking out her tongue for you to play.
“I missed you so fucking much my kitten” “Suck me, kittten” you commanded. Minnie doesn’t hesitate; she unbuckles your belt as fast as she could before pulling your jeans down. Then she leans forward, her lips parting to take you into her warm, wet mouth. She’s such a skilled cock-sucker, and her enthusiasm shows as she works her magic. Her tongue swirls around the head of your cock, teasing the sensitive underside before lowering her even further taking you deeper into her mouth. 
“Fuck, this is just what I needed” You groan the pleasure coursing through your body. Minnie purrs and the vibrations of her voice could be felt on your cock amplifying your pleasure. Your hands tighten in her hair, guiding her rhythm as she bobs her head, her full lips sliding up and down your shaft. You could feel her enthusiasm and her eagerness to please you and you appreciated every bit of it. 
Just as you were getting into the mood, your phone buzzes with an urgent work call. You cursed under your breath , knowing you can’t ignore it, yet annoyed that it has interrupted your playtime. 
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“Stay” You commanded, while pulling on the leash to pull her away from your cock. Minnie whimpers softly, her eyes pleading as she looks at you, visibly upset being denied her dessert. You move to the other side of the room, answering the call with a frustrated sigh. As you discuss work matters, you glance over at Minnie, still kneeling patiently, her collared neck a constant reminder of the pleasure waiting for you.
The call seems to last an eternity, but finally, you ended it. Your eyes lock with Minnie's, and you see the desire burning in her gaze. She's been a good girl, waiting patiently for your attention. Disappointingly you had an emergency work meeting you had to attend online due to some shit that had cropped up again at work. 
“Sorry baby… I have to tend to a meeting real quick, just give me a moment.”
“Hmmph, unfair I have been waiting all day, does Daddy not love me?” She pouts angrily. 
“I’m sorry, I promise to make it up to you after this meeting, you know you are the number 1 for me” you said while patting her head gently before pecking her forehead. Pulling up your pants, you left her to get your laptop to join the meeting.
You sit at your desk, frustrated that your playtime has been interrupted, but you remain focused, trying to resolve the issues that have came up. All you wanted is for the meeting to end so you can get back to playing with Minnie. It has almost been an hour since leaving her and even you were getting impatient. 
As you talked, you were unaware of the naughty kitten, Minnie, who had crawled under your desk, eager to worship her Master's cock. She knows she should be a good girl and wait patiently, but the temptation is too great. Suddenly, you feel your pants being dragged to your ankles again. 
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You look down to see Minnie, your precious kitten, parting her soft lips and taking you into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head, tasting the familiar flavour of your precum from the interrupted session. Her brown eyes sparkle with affection as she looks up at you, her hair falling over her face. She wants to please you , craving your attention and approval after having been denied that the whole day. You held back your moan, knowing you were still in the meeting as the warm mouth embraced your shaft. 
Whenever you unmute to contribute , Minnie would tighten her lips around your shaft, sucking gently at first, but as you emphasise a point, she would intentionally take it as a sign to suck harder. She deepthroats you, her throat muscles massaging your length, her saliva coating your dick. The sensation is incredible, and you feel your cock twitch in her mouth. 
"Umm... I think we should move on to the next agenda item," you say, your voice slightly hoarse as you try to maintain your composure. You shift in your chair, subtly adjusting your position to give Minnie better access. Unbeknownst to your colleagues, you're enjoying a private show. “Naughty kitty, so impatient for Daddy” You looked down at her and smirked as you muted yourself again. 
Minnie took that as encouragement and became bolder. The next time you unmuted and spoked, She moaned softly around your cock, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. Her hands roam over your thighs, her nails gently scraping the sensitive skin. You sure as hell hoped your colleagues did not hear the moan.
“Right, on the system downtime,” You manage to say, clearing your throat. “ We need to focus on…” You trail off as Minnie's warm mouth envelops your balls, sucking gently, teasingly. You grip the edge of the desk, trying to maintain your professional demeanor while your body betrays you. 
One of your colleagues, unaware of the naughty scene beneath the desk, asks a question. You answer, your voice strained, as Minnie's mouth returns to your cock, her tongue flicking at the sensitive underside. You can't help but thrust your hips upwards, fucking her face gently, the sight of her pretty face buried in your lap almost making you lose control.
The meeting continues, and Minnie's blowjob becomes more intense with each passing minute. She's a talented cock-sucker, using her lips and tongue to drive you wild. She continued her game, whenever you had to speak , she took it as a cue to tighten her throat around your cock, her way of competing for your attention. 
"Yes, we aim to complete it by Thursday then," you say, your voice slightly strained. You can feel your orgasm building, and you know you won't last much longer, you had to end the meeting quickly. 
As the meeting wraps up, you thank your colleagues, your eyes briefly meeting the curious gaze of one of your teammates, who gives you a knowing smile. You wonder if they had suspected anything, but you dismiss the thought as you focus on the kitten beneath your desk. The moment the call ended, you reached down and gently grabbed a fistful of her hair, tugging her head back slightly. 
"You've been a very naughty pet, Minnie. I think you've earned some special attention." “Open wide, kitty, I’m going to fuck your face”.  
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Minnie complied, opening her mouth wide to receive you once more. This time, you thrust into her mouth with force, her lips sliding down your length, and her throat accepting you fully. You held her head in place, fucking her mouth with brutally, as she gagged slightly, her eyes watering from the force of your penetration. But she didn't pull away; instead, she relaxed her throat, allowing you to take control. 
You continued pounding her mouth, your balls slapping against her chin with each thrust. Minnie's moans and whimpers of pleasure fueled your desire, and you could feel your orgasm building rapidly. "That's it, take it, my little slut," you growled, your voice hoarse. "Suck my cock like the good kitten you are."
Minnie's hands reached back, gripping your thighs as she surrendered herself to your pleasure. You felt her nails dig into your skin, leaving marks as she urged you on. Her mouth was pure heaven, hot and tight, and the thought of her willingly submitting to your desires sent you over the edge. 
Just as you were about to reach your climax, you reached down with your hands, and using two fingers you pinched her nose, cutting off Minnie’s breathing. This caused her to inhale deeply through her mouth, in her attempt to gasp for air , which undoubtedly tightened her throat around your shaft. 
With a loud grunt, you exploded, jets of hot cum shot down her throat. Minnie gasped at the volume, she maintained eye contact with you throughout, her big eyes staring at you with affection as she savoured the taste of your release. She swallowed, eagerly, milking your cock with her mouth , ensuring she didn’t waste a single drop. 
As your orgasm subsided, you panted, catching your breath, while Minnie licked her lips, a satisfied smile on her face. "Thank you, Daddy” she whispered, her voice hoarse from the intense blowjob. "I love being your little cock-worshipping pet."
You reached down and caressed her cheek, wiping away the tears that had flowed from her eyes from the intense throat fuck.  "Nicha, you've been a naughty girl," you say, your voice firm as you stand up, your hard cock springing free from her mouth.
"Sucking my cock during an important meeting. You know the rules." “Naughty girls need to be punished."
Nicha… is the name you always use when you are about to punish your kitty. Minnie’s eyes sparkle with excitement. She loves being punished knowing it is a sign of your affection as well as ownership of her. She crawls out from under the desk, her body flushed and her lips glistening with her saliva and cum. 
Grabbing the leash this time, you led her to the nearby couch and grabbed a few things along the way, your eyes never leaving her.
“Bend over, Nicha” you instructed, your voice low and commanding. Obediently, she bends over your lap, her ass presented to you, her hands resting on the cushions. You admire her round, firm cheeks, knowing you're about to leave your mark on her.
“Count” You begin by running your hand gently over her smooth, creamy cheeks before landing a firm smack on her right cheek, watching it turn a delicate shade of pink.  "One," she counts, her voice slightly trembling. You alternate cheeks, delivering another sharp smack, this time on the left, and feel her muscles tense under your touch. "Two," she continues, her voice now a little steadier.
Each strike of your hand leaves a warm, glowing imprint on her skin, and you admire the beautiful blush that spreads across her ass. You deliver another pair of smacks, this time with a bit more force, and hear the satisfying sound of your palm connecting with her soft flesh. "Three... four," Minnie counts, her voice a mixture of pain and pleasure.
Between each strike, you pause, letting the heat build in her ass, watching as the pink hue deepens to a fiery red. You're an artist, and her ass is your canvas, gradually being painted with the colours of her punishment. "Five... six," she gasps as your hand continues its rhythmic dance, alternating between her cheeks.
As you reach double digits, Minnie's breathing becomes more heavy, her pussy dripping wet as the pain and pleasure intertwine. "Seven... eight," she pants, her voice hoarse with desire. 
You lean down, whispering into her ear, "You like this, don't you, pet? Being punished for being such a naughty girl?"
Minnie's response is a mere whimper, her body trembling with the intensity of the sensations. "Nine... ten," she manages to say, her voice breaking as you land two more smacks.
You decided it’s time to move to the next phase. Reaching over for a bottle of lube that you have previously grabbed, you warmed your hands with a generous amount.  With deliberate, sensual strokes, you began to massage the lubricant onto her anus.
Minnie moaned softly, her body responding to your touch as you prepared her for the plug that she had seen you previously grabbed. "Relax, Nicha,""Let me prepare you for your new toy."
Your fingers worked their magic, gently probing and stretching her tight hole. You took your time, wanting to ensure her comfort and pleasure. As you slowly inserted one, then two fingers, Minnie's breath hitched, and she pushed back against your hand, craving more.
"Oh, Daddy, please," she begged
You smiled, pleased with her eagerness. Withdrawing your fingers, you took a silicone butt plug from the box, a sleek, black toy with a delicate tail attached to its base. Perfect for your kitty. You coat it generously with lube, the clear liquid glistening in the dim light. You gently positioned the tip at her entrance and began to push against her tight hole, as you heard Minnie whimpers. 
"Shh, pet," you soothe. With a slow, deliberate push, you begin to insert it, feeling her muscles clench around the intruder. "Relax, Minnie," you instruct, gently working the plug deeper into her ass.
Minnie's eyes fluttered shut and breath catches in her throat, as the plug slowly invaded her, stretching her in a way that was both unfamiliar and intensely arousing. You twist the plug slightly, stimulating her further, and you feel her body tremble in response. "Oh... oh God," she whispers, her voice barely audible. You continued to push the plug further gently. The sight of her ass contracting and gripping the toy with her tight walls was beautiful.
You took your time, allowing her to adjust to the new sensation, before finally seating the plug fully, the tail hanging provocatively between her cheeks.
"Stand up, my kitten," you instructed, your eyes gleaming with desire. "Let Daddy see how it looks on you." Minnie rose to her feet, her movements graceful, the butt plug accentuating the curves of her ass. The tail swayed and dangled provocatively between her legs, brushing against her swollen pussy lips with every move she made. She turned around, offering you a full view of her plugged ass, with her red cheeks due to the spanking. 
“You look beautiful, Nicha” You praised “The plug suits you perfectly, let’s see how it feels” 
Using the leash, you guided her again to the couch, positioning her on her knees, her ass raised high, presenting her glistening pussy to you. With her hands resting on the couch for support, you stepped behind her, your eyes taking in the sight of her exposed, plugged ass. 
You reached out and gave the tail a gentle tug, eliciting a gasp from Minnie. "Does it feel good, my pet? Does my kitten like her new toy?"
"Yes, Daddy," she panted, her voice strained. "It feels incredible deep inside me”
You began to tease her, running your fingers along the length of the tail, tugging and caressing it, sending waves of pleasure and anticipation through her body. You alternated between soft strokes and firm pulls, driving her wild with desire. You watched intently at her ass stretched, as the buttplug moved in and out of her.
"You like that, don't you, kitten?" "Being punished for your naughtiness” You said as you ran your fingers through her already soaking folds, feeling its wetness.
"Yes, Daddy," she replied, your voice breathless. "It makes me so wet."
Your hand paused, and Minnie whimpered at the loss of contact, craving more of yoour touch. "Oh, but you shouldn't be enjoying this, should you?" you said, your voice laced with mock disappointment. "You've been a naughty girl and naughty girls don’t get to cum” 
Minnie shivered at your words, knowing this punishment was far from over and you were about to edge her continuously. 
"Spread your legs, kitten,""Let me see how naughty you've been." 
Obediently, Minnie widens her stance, revealing her glistening pussy lips, already swollen. She bit her lips as she felt your fingers gently part her folds, exposing her sensitive clit.
Such a naughty girl," "Your pussy is dripping, begging for attention. This is still a punishment and you will get to cum when I say so” You reminded again.
She knew the consequence would be worse to disobey you and she was going to use every bit of her will to follow through with this. 
Your fingers danced over her clit, teasing and denying her the pleasure she so desperately craved. She squirmed, trying to press herself against your hand, seeking release. "Please, Daddy," she begged “ I need more” 
You obliged, plunging two fingers deep inside her wetness, which elicited a gasp from her lips. Your fingers worked in and out , stretching and filling her, while your thumb found Minnie’s clit, circling it relentlessly. 
“Oh, fuck!” Minnie cried out, her body shaking as you finger fucked her pussy. “I can’t… I can’t hold back , Daddy”
“You will.” You asserted with a firm dominant voice “ Don’t you dare cum without Daddy’s permission” You increased the pace, your fingers pounding into her needy hole while your thumb worked her clit in perfect rhythm. Minnie’s body quivered, teetering on the edge of orgasm, but you held you there, denying her release.
"Please, please, Daddy," Minnie pleaded, your voice reduced to a whimper. "I'll be good, I promise. Just let me cum."
Your fingers paused, just as she was about to hit her high and she whined in protest , desperate for release. “Not yet, kitten.” “I want to feel every inch of my cock inside this tight little pussy first.”
Grasping the leash tightly, you guide Minnie onto the ground, lowering her until she’s on all fours again, her knees sinking into the soft rug.  As you position yourself behind her, your cock throbs eager to claim what's rightfully yours. You reach down one hand still holding the leash while the other grabbing her hips and pulling her towards you.
With one swift motion, you slide your length into her wet pussy, eliciting a gasp from Minnie's lips. Her warmth envelops you, her tight muscles gripping your shaft as you begin to thrust. You set a relentless pace, pounding into her, claiming her hole as yours. 
Minnie's hands clench the rug beneath her, enjoying her body being used "Oh, yes, fuck me, Daddy," she moans "Use my pussy, please, use it hard." You obliged, lowering her into a prone position, before withdrawing almost entirely and slamming back into her, your hips smacking her ass with each forward thrust. 
The leash provides an additional layer of control, and you give it a gentle tug, pulling her back towards you, ensuring every inch of your cock fills her. The sound of flesh meeting fills the reverberates loudly through the room. Reaching forward, you grab a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back, exposing her neck. You plant open-mouthed kisses along her sensitive skin, tasting the salt of her sweat. "You like it rough, don't you, Nicha?" you whispered in her ears.
"Yes, Daddy," she pants, her voice trembling from the intense pleasure "I love it when you take control, when you use me like this." Your fingers moved to find the base of the butt plug, still nestled snugly in her ass. You twist it slightly, making her whimper and push back against your hand. "Please, Daddy, may I cum?" she begs, her voice a mixture of desperation and pleading.
"Not yet, pet, not until I feel you have earned it” With that, you resume your assault on her core, alternating between rapid, shallow thrusts and deep, slow penetrations, ensuring her body remains on the edge between pleasure and frustration.
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As you fuck her, you admire the sight of her slender figure, the curve of her waist, and the swell of her hips. Her back glistens with a fine sheen of sweat, reflecting the soft lighting of the room. You lean forward again, your chest pressing against her back, your hands roaming over her body, claiming every inch as your own.
Your fingers find her nipples, pinching and rolling them between your thumb and forefinger. Minnie arches her back, pushing her breasts into your hands, seeking more stimulation. You oblige, squeezing and twisting, eliciting a chorus of moans and whimpers from her lips. This new positioned allowed you fuck deeper into her.
"You're so responsive, Nicha," "Every inch of your body craving to be touched and played with” You bite down gently on her earlobe, sucking it into your mouth, marking her with your teeth further. 
Minnie's hands move to her clit, her fingers brushing against the sensitive bud, seeking the release you've denied her. "No, pet," you command, slapping her hand away. "You'll cum when I allow it, and not a moment before."
"I... I can't hold it much longer," she pants, her body shaking. As your thrust became more erratic, you felt that she had earned it and it was time to give her her reward. You reached between her legs, fingers finding her clit and began to rub it in firm circles as you pounded into her.
“Now kitten, Cum, Cum for Daddy” 
Your command was all Minnie needed. Her body convulses in pleasure , her pussy clenching around your cock as she rides out the waves of orgasm. You continued to thurst, fucking her through her orgasm as her juice splattered all over the rug. After a while, your cock slid out of her, Minnie arms gave way and she collapsed on the floor, her pussy still throbbing from the post-orgasm. 
Turning around, Minnie sees your cock still fully erected. “Sorry.. I came before Daddy”. Reaching lower, she spreads her tight asscheeks, with the buttplug still lodged deep inside her. “Would Daddy like to use this hole instead?”
Your eyes widened at the suggestion, yet you couldn't hide your excitement. You have tried anal with her before, but she could not relax enough and you found it hard to get even the tip in. You did not want the first experience to be painful for your pet. You deeply loved her after all. Determined to make it special this time, you approach her with a mix of eagerness and care.
“Are you sure about this?” Minnie nods in response. “Remember, kitten, we’re taking it slow today, and we will go at your pace, if it is too much, just sound out and we will stop” Minnie felt fuzzy at your care. Despite the rough sex, you have always added in bits of tenderness which made her knew she can trust you fully. 
You reached for the tail buttplug, and slowly removed it , watching her face for any signs of discomfort. Her breath quickens as the toy slides out, leaving her ass exposed and slightly gaping. The pink flesh, glistening with her natural lubrication, is a sight that sends a shiver down your spine. You can't help but lean forward and plant a soft kiss on one of her cheeks, savouring the taste of her.
"Open your mouth, Minnie," You had switched back to her name signifying the end of her punishment. Minnie obeyed, mouth watering at the thought of what you were about to do. You guided the tip of the plug to her lips, and she parted them eagerly, sucking the toy into her mouth. The taste of her own ass could be felt which made her feel incredibly nasty and aroused. She swirled her tongue around it, cleaning it with her saliva. 
Positioning yourself behind her, you guide your rock-hard cock to her entrance, feeling the heat radiating from her body. The tip of your dick touches her puckered hole, and you pause, letting her get accustomed to the sensation. You've learned from your previous attempt that patience is key, and you want to ensure she enjoys every moment.
With a gentle push, you apply a bit of pressure, feeling her tightness resist your intrusion. Minnie lets out a soft whimper, a mix of pleasure and discomfort.
"Relax, my pet. Breathe with me. It's okay to feel a little pain, but we'll go as far as you want. You're in control."
You take a moment to caress her hips, your hands soothing the tension from her body. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, you push forward again, this time managing to sink the head of your cock into her tight channel. Minnie's breath catches, and she arches her back slightly, her body instinctively reacting to the invasion.
"Oh, fuck, is it in yet"
"Not yet, just about one-third.”
You sense her disbelief, and wonder how she is going to take all of you in her ass. You slowly inch your way in bit by bit. 
 "That's it, kitty. You're taking me in, inch by inch. Such a good girl."
With each gentle thrust, you sink deeper, filling her with a slow, relentless rhythm. Her ass clenches around your shaft, the tightness almost unbearable almost forcing your orgasm immediately. You want to pound into her, to claim her completely, but you hold back, letting her guide the pace, it was your first successful attempt after all. 
"You like it deep, don't you, Minnie? Tell me how much you love my cock stretching your sweet ass."
Minnie's response is a moan, her words muffled as she bites down on the silicone buttplug that laid beside her. "Yes... I love it... It hurts so good... Fill me... please..."
Encouraged by her plea, you start to pick up the pace, your hips moving in a steady rhythm. You could feel her ass relaxing, giving you more freedom to move in and out of her. As you fuck her, you reach around and start to play with her sensitive clit, knowing how much she loves the dual stimulation. Your fingers tease the hard bud, rubbing and circling it, sending waves of pleasure through her body. Minnie's moans turn into desperate cries, her body trembling with the intensity of the sensations.
"Oh, Daddy.. I'm so close... Don't stop... Fuck my ass... and my pussy..." Her pussy, glistening with arousal, is a temptation you can't resist. You slide a finger down, finding her wet entrance and plunging it deep inside, matching the rhythm of your cock in her ass. Her pussy was a whimpering mess, juices spilling everywhere and wetting the surrounding. 
A naughty thought crosses your mind as you grabbed the steel feeding bowl nearby for her meals and placed it beneath her dripping pussy. As you continue to fuck her, the pace becoming increasingly frantic, you notice the bowl filling with her juices. The sight is incredibly arousing—a testament to her arousal. You can't help but wonder what it would be like to taste her although if anything you have tasted her the most.
You lifted your other hand before delivering spanks on her already redeened cheeks. Each time your hand connected with her ass, you could feel her hole clenched tighter around your shaft.
"Naughty girl, enjoying getting spanked."
Sensing Minnie on the edge of an intense orgasm, you quickened your thrusting and spanking, plunging deeper into her anal walls as you curled your fingers reaching her G-spot. “That’s it, baby,cum for me. Let everything go” 
Minnie’s body shakes and a high-pitched scream fills the air as she cums, her ass clenching and milking your cock, her pussy pushing your fingers out as a gush of squirt fills the metal bowl below her. 
You felt your balls tightened and quickly pulled out your sensitive cock with a wet sucking sound as you watched her ass gaped slightly. You tug on the leash to spin her around to watch. “On your knees, kitty” 
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Obediently, she kneels, her eyes fixed on you as you step towards the feeding bowl. You stroke your cock, still hard and glistening with her juices, and aim it at the bowl. With a few sharp jerks, you release your hot cum, watching as it mixes with her nectar, creating a unique cocktail. You smiled at your creation. 
“Now, kitten” “Here’s your reward” You lowered her using the leash as she crawls forward towards the metal bowl. She dips her head, her pink tongue extending to lap at the mixture of cum and pussy juice. The sight was incredibly erotic for you, an act of complete submission by your pet. 
“Mmm, it’s so good Daddy” She mewls between licks. “I love the taste of us together.” You kneel beside her, running your hand through her hair, guiding her as she cleans the bowl with her tongue. 
"That's my good girl," you praise, your voice softening. You share a quiet moment with her, gently patting her head and pecking her cheeks. “You did so well kitty” You said as you held her close, feeling her heart facing against yours. More than the sex, you deeply adored her. After a while, you both drift into a comfortable silence, wrapped in the comforting embrace of each other's company. 
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Eventually you got up and led her through the leash back to her cage to rest for the night. Before she reaches her resting spot, she hesitates for a moment before looking at you with those cute beady dreamy eyes. "Would it be okay if… Minnie sleeps with Daddy in his room tonight? For a bit of extra cozy? Her voice is soft and shy. "
You smile, touched by her request and give a gentle nod. “Of course, Minnie, I’d love that.” Her face lights up with a relieved smile, and she takes your hand as you both head towards your room together. 
Ignoring the sweat and cum stains on your bodies, you both slip under the covers. She insisted on wearing the collar to sleep , since it was your gift and in a few moments she had drifted off deeply into sleep. You admire your pretty kitten for a while, staring at her sleep cutely. Moving a few strands of hair behind her eyes, you leaned in for another peck on her forehead, before cuddling her and closing your heavy eyes to rest.
You thoroughly enjoyed your playtime and you could not wait to try many different things with the kitty you loved so much, your pretty, cutie, kitty Minnie.
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Hope you enjoyed the piece! Kitty Minnie was so fitting after this post with her tongue out and in a cage. She was tooooo cute. Too little G-idle fics out there despite them being hot.
I intentionally took note to paragraph and split my sentenced this time , hope it is better for reading!
This is for the author who previously asked to write about Minnie too! Let me know your thoughts comments. Again if you want to drop a request refer to the master list or if you would like to commission a piece drop me a pm!
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luviwon · 2 months ago
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MIRROR KINK | y.jw
kinktober day 24! back to the masterlist here!
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☆ boyfriend!jungwon x girlfriend!reader
; a new house brings new surprises, and the bedroom ceiling mirror is no exception. at first, you don’t give it too much thought —until you catch your boyfriend’s reflection in it, relentlessly pleasuring you.
genre ; smut
taglist ; @blushbunini @moonpri @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma @aanniikkas @hooneyz-luver @laylasbunbunny @nyfwyeonjun @minniesverse @rikinatorr
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you’re lying close, his hand gently rubbing circles on your back, a comforting rhythm. the quiet intimacy of the moment is something you savor, both of you lost in the peaceful silence. then, without a word, he tilts his head, lips brushing softly against your cheek. you turn towards him, and jungwon catches your mouth in a slow, tender kiss, his fingers tracing along your neck as he deepens it, pulling you even closer.
his kisses grow more intense, his touch more purposeful. slowly, he shifts over you, his lips trailing from your jaw to your collarbone, lingering there just enough to make you shiver. he lifts his head, eyes catching yours, and with a smirk, he whispers, “look up.”
you lift your gaze to the ceiling mirror, and the sight makes your breath catch. from this angle, you see him fully—his hair slightly messy, his toned arms braced on either side of you, the way his body moves so naturally. his mouth is on you, his touch so purposeful, but watching him like this, completely focused on you, is its own kind of thrill.
“jungwon..” you whisper, mainly to yourself because he is already far down on your body, embracing your figure, and with a quick movement, pulling up your shirt to have his eyes staring at your chest the next second. his gaze is absorbing the picture before him, your tits close together due to your new victoria secret bra, bought by no one else than your sweet boyfriend.
and damn, he loved it on you.
although he’s usually get rid of it asap to devour your tits one by one, this time he let it stay on, just because of how sexy it looked on you. jungwon’s mouth, though, couldn’t stay away from you for too long, nor could his teeth which grazed at your skin as he nibbled, leaving a love mark on your right boob for you.
just for you, and for him to show everyone who is looking at your cleavage that you are his only.
he glanced at the mark and smirked in response, feeling hungry for more, so in a matter of seconds, your chest was now covered in hickeys, each of them hurting more than the other, a pleasurable pain still. yet you couldn’t help but whine for all of them, and that only turned jungwon on even more. you continued to look up at the ceiling, seeing how he marked you everywhere, feeling a heat growing between your legs, because that was indeed a hot view.
and you both felt very hot in that moment too.
jungwon kept on going lower, kissing your stomach with care, aware of how self-conscious you were about it, but always making sure to remind you of how beautiful you look. so his kisses were full of attention, passion and even a little bit playful as his tongue dragged a wet line from your abdomen until the boarder of your leggings.
men will be men and despite how much they love that pair of pants on you, jungwon couldn’t last for too long before pulling them down, an unnecessary piece right now. he looked up at the ceiling himself, finding the two of you exchanging gazes, and that’s all it took for you to cross your legs before him. jungwon giggled, pushing his right hand between your thighs to open your legs for him, all this while staring at your reflection.
you swallowed, your lower lip feeling a deep bite as his hand felt your thighs all over, playing with them in his hands gently, caressing your skin with such care you thought this hot session turned into a massage hour, but that was until jungwon lowered his head and gave your left thigh a lick, a wet line which stopped at your bikini line.
your light coloured panties only emphasised more your wetness, the drench material almost teasing jungwon. he loved to see how much he turned you on, making your cunt scream for his tongue. so could he make you wait any longer when you were all so needy for him, right? his playful tongue drew a line along your panties, pushing the wet fabric between your folds.
his faint smile turned into a smirk before his mouth took all of your pussy inside, panties still on because if you teased him, he will tease you too. you moaned aloud, his breathe so hot and the view on top twice as much, you didn’t know if you wanted to cross your legs or spread them even more. either way, it would still end with jungwon ruining you tonight.
when he feels like he teased you enough, jungwon pulls your panties to the side, licking you harder with his piercing tongue, making you tremble under his touch. sliding his tongue from the bottom towards the top, he finds your clit easily and can’t help himself for too long before sucking on it gently, careful to pay attention to your reaction and see how you are finding it.
because jungwon is that boyfriend who cares about what you like and what you want.
so hearing your whimper and seeing you grabbing the sheets were the only signals he needed before putting his fingers to work, rubbing your pussy in circular motions with his tongue still playing with your clit. his back muscles looked so sexy in the reflection, naturally finding your way to wrap your legs around his neck, pushing his head deeper inside you.
he moaned, obviously satisfied by your decision, and his index slid slowly inside you, making sure not to rush you and give you time to accommodate. but to be fair, did you even need to get used to his finger after fucking you rough so many times before? so as soon as he realised you were okay with that, he did not add one but two more fingers to stretch you out, pushing them all the way in and his licking never stopped, but went gently along your folds to make your legs shake around him.
jungwon breathe felt even hotter now, and his fingers moved slightly faster inside you, making you moan his name in response. let’s say 1 was a joke, 2 could be just perfect, but treating you with 3 tonight was something he doesn’t usually do. so besides the whole mirror shit, it looks like he had something else, new, to experience. and so did you, whose legs found it hard to stay still when the tip of his fingers curled inside you.
“j-jungwon” you moaned, arching your back as he sped up, the wet sounds filling up the room. “shh, baby, just enjoy the show” he whispered, referring to the reflection. your eyes could barely leave the mirror on top, the way your shaking legs wrapped so perfectly around him, his messy hair starting to get a bit wet and your arm moving with each sliding inside your cunt.
and he went for hours, overstimulating you to the point not only your pussy was soaked now, but the bed sheets as well.
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natti-ice · 10 months ago
Note
boyfriend!eddie and reader having soft sex in the back of his van literally has me on the flooorrr
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ mdni, p in v, creampie, soft sex, praise
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3
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Most nights after being out with Eddie you'd find yourself in the back of his van, you two would sit and talk for hours or make out which obviously lead to more. It always lead to more. You couldn't keep your hands off of him and he definitely didn't mind that at all, the feel of your body against his was enough to make his heart explode.
Right now you two were stripped naked, you laid out on the three person bench, you could feel the leather sticking to your skin as a thin layer of perspiration coated your back. The air was thick and warm from heavy breathing as the passion between you grew. Eddie hovering on top of you holding up one of your legs as he gives you deep and sensual strokes.
You could feel every inch of his love and affection for you as his cock moved in and out of your pussy, he loved fucking you senseless but tonight he wanted to make love.
"You're so beautiful, baby" he says through a shaky breath, his forehead was covered in sweat and his face was bright red but he didn't care about any of that, he was only worried about you.
You let out soft moans of pleasure as his dick stroked your G spot, you gripped onto the back of the seat tightly as the pleasure became too intense. Eddie felt your muscles starting to contract around him signaling your imminent orgasm, he brings his thumb down on your clit and starts to rub it gently.
"Cum for me sweetheart, I'll be right here to catch you." His voice was gentle and soft, you had never heard him speak like that in the almost nine months you had been dating. It made your heart swell by how caring he was to you, this was your first relationship where you felt like you didn't have to ask for love, he just gave it to you.
"Oh Eddie, I'm about to-" before you could finish your sentence your body had reached its peak, your head fell back and your lower half twitched as you came on his cock. He didn't stop rubbing your clit until he felt you had enough, his big goofy smile came into view as you opened your eyes again.
"Such a good girl," he chuckles softly, he slowed down his pace slightly but he wasn't done with you yet. "You look like a goddess when you cum." He leans down and starts kissing down your neck, his warm breath fanning over your skin makes you shiver with excitement. He continues to pump into you as he gently nibbles the tender flesh of your skin, not hard enough to hurt but just the right amount of pressure to make your head spin.
He whispers sweet nothings in your ear to distract you from the sensitivity of your pussy, he knows you can take it but he wants to give you encouragement to push through. "I love you so damn much" he whispers against your ear, "one day I'm gonna make you my bride" he promises you, that right there was almost enough to make you cum again.
A few more pumps later Eddie exploded inside you, he moaned out your name as he filled you up with his seed. He panted hard as he gently laid himself on top of you, care not to crush you with his weight, he brushed his lips against yours before giving you a soft passionate kiss.
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beensbaee · 7 months ago
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𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
summary; neteyam visits his favorite healer after a hard battle
word count; 2.2k
BLOODIED, BUT BEAUTIFUL.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
Neteyam staggered into the healers tent, gritting his teeth together as an attempt to keep himself from hissing due to the pain that was coursing through his entire body 
Y/n was speaking to one of her fellow healers, oblivious to Neteyam standing behind her in dire need of her tender hands
He waited patiently, leaning against the entrance of the tent as he took slow breaths to keep himself from passing out as Y/n let out a laugh at whatever the woman she was speaking with said
Finally - she turned around. Her face content until she saw Neteyam - her cry of surprise had him wincing as she rushed over to him, grabbing his arms immediately and leading him to a cot he could lay down on
"Neteyam - you skxawng! Why didn't you try getting my attention earlier! Oh Eywa look at these wounds!" She said mortified, eyes quickly assessing Neteyam's injuries as he managed a smile
"Hello to you too, Y/n. I like your hair today." He said, barely having the strength to lower himself onto the cot in front of him as Y/n sighed
"Thank you." She said angrily, eyes stressed as she quickly reached for her disinfecting ointments with urgent need
He grunted as he laid down in front of her - the injuries over his body were burning and painful - but the familiar smell of the soothing medicines surrounding him and Y/n's scent allowed his body to relax as he tipped his head back and closed his eyes against the cushion laid for patients to rest their head against when being healed
"Teyam, what happened?" She said quietly, looking over his injuries one last time with a sad frown before dipping her hands into the ointment in front of her as her hands lathered it gently into his skin
He sighed, eyes opening as he watched her work with knitted brows. She was looking at him expectedly as she continued applying the green paste onto his skin
"Bad day for the war party." Was what he finally settled on as he let a wince of pain slip through - Y/n's hands quickly stopping at his rare show of suffering as she looked towards him with a knowing look
"Neteyam. I hate seeing you so hurt." She finally whispered, her voice pained as he finally met her gaze - his eyes crinkled with an ache she wished to sooth.
He stayed silent for a few moments, letting her words settle as he slowly moved his hand towards hers. Seeing he was trying to hold her hand, she quickly moved forward and clasped his hands herself so he wouldn't try to move anymore and risk aggravating his wounds any further
"I know. I am sorry." He said quietly as Y/n let out a huff
"How dare you apologize to me! Take it back! You are hurt, Neteyam. Don't you ever try to say sorry to me again when you are the one to deserve it so much more." She said, her tone truly hurt by his words as both of her hands cupped his gently. He ran his fingers over her knuckles as he let out a breathless laugh
"Ok, ok. Sorry -" He started, but was cut off with her letting out a hiss at his use of the word sorry once again
Finally, he let out a laugh that bubbled all the way from his tummy at her reaction as she let a small smile find its way onto her face
"Now, let your body relax. Think of something peaceful to help you. Deep breaths, Neteyam. Understand?" She asked as he nodded his head, closing his eyes as his mind trailed to a certain someone
It was not hard to have her be the sole thing on his mind as she worked diligently - her scent consuming his senses along with her occasional humming as she worked easily eased the tension from his muscles.
He didn't know when he'd fallen asleep - but her gentle hands cradled his face as she whispered his name
"Neteyam, come on yawne."
He didn't open his eyes when he first heard the words - believing he was just dreaming until he felt her soft fingers trace over his eyelids and nose
With lashes fluttering open, he was met with her concerned eyes as she helped him sit up
He let out a groan as he adjusted, but relaxed quickly as he felt the previous pain from his injuries almost gone. Looking down, his abdomen and arms were wrapped lovingly with her signature style - the cloth warm against his skin as he sighed.
"Thank you. I am sorry - was I sleeping for too long?" He asked sleepily, eyes taking in the now empty healers tent and dark sky that loomed outside
"Yes. I did not want to wake you. Did you sleep well?" She asked gently, helping him stand as he held onto her arm for support - eyes blinking away his tiredness as he slowly nodded his head
"I think that was the best sleep I have had in a very long time." He answered, his hands moving from her arms and around her as he enveloped Y/n in a hug, resting his head against hers as she smiled against his skin
"Well, thank Eywa I didn't let anyone wake you." She laughed quietly as he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her head
"Thank you." He said quieter now as Y/n's cheeks quickly tinted with surprise while she blinked, stunned and trying to process what he had just done
Seeing her surprise, he displayed a lazy smile as her ears perked up
"You're welcome. You know, I'd do anything for you." She said softly as he nodded his head
"And I'd do anything for you, Y/n. But you already knew this." He said as she finally rolled her eyes, her sweet smile peeking through as Neteyam grinned at the sight of it
"Tonight, I walk you home." She said, her voice gentle but firm as Neteyam shook his head
"But-" He started, but she gave him a look that had him quieting in a instant as she smiled
"Come on, now. You are in no condition to walk to even your own quarters, let alone mine. Let's go." She reasoned, her hand moving to his palm as she led him out of the tent and towards the familiar path of his families sleeping area
They walked through the resting na'vi silently, Neteyam's hand never leaving hers as the sounds of Pandora's distant night animals filled the silence
She stopped a few meters away from his families quarters, respecting the fact that they were sleeping inside and not wanting to intrude any further as she turned to Neteyam
He looked beautiful in the moonlight. His freckles glowed in the dim light, and she could see the tenderness in his eyes as he looked at her.
"Now, you are going to go inside, and go back to sleep. No doing anything else, your injuries need rest." She instructed, his eyes never leaving hers as he listened - nodding his head along to whatever she said
"You see, the wounds you acquired from today were all over your body. To be able to make a full recovery - Neteyam! Are you even listening to a word that I am - " 
But she was cut off by him leaning towards her and pressing his soft lips against hers, his head tilting downwards as she was pressed flush against him - his palms holding her face so lovingly as any sound of surprised that left her lips was silenced by his mouth
Blinking away her shock, she leaned in to him as his arms came up and around her - holding her against him so lovingly that she couldn't stop herself from closing her eyes and deepening the passionate kiss
Finally, she broke away from him - lips pink and cheeks alight as she blinked rapidly - her mouth was parted as she struggled to even form a single word. He laughed - a real laugh that had a slow smile creeping onto her face as she tried to look away from him and hide the growing blush she could feel creeping up her neck
But his hands grabbed her face and turned her towards him - his eyes so happy that she couldn't even make herself look away as he began speaking
"How are you going to leave after this? And you know I will not sleep soundly if I do not know you returned back to your bed safely." He whispered as she looked at him silently - eyes round with love as he smiled
"You said it yourself. I am in no condition to walk you to your quarters and back - and I cannot sleep without knowing you are safe - which is something I need to do, according to you, so my wounds heal." He added, a playful glint in his magnificent eyes
"Are you suggesting I stay with you tonight?" She questioned, and his grin broadened as he nodded
"It is nothing shameful. I am making sure my dearest friend is safe with me." He added, his fangs peaking through that same incomparable smile she was so infatuated with as she shook her head, trying to contain her giggles as he reached for her hand
"Come on. You can lay in my hammock, and I can sleep on the ground." He said, mumbling the last words quietly and hoping she wouldn't hear - but unfortunately, the gasp she let out as her eyes snapped towards his let him know she'd heard him perfectly fine
"You sleep on the ground? That better not have been what you said." She exclaimed, brows pulled together and concerned as he rolled his eyes and laughed whilst leading her into his families sleeping quarters
She entered hesitantly, Neteyam turning back to look at her with an encouraging nod of his head as she observed the peacefully sleeping Sully's. They moved quietly to ensure no one was awakened.
He moved to lay in his hammock - which was thankfully large enough for both of them to comfortably lay on as he moved over and outstretched his arm towards her
She laid down, tucking her hands under her face as she laid on her side to look at him. He whispered how pretty she looked and she smiled - swatting his hand away and telling him once again how important sleep was for him as he sighed contently - arms wrapping around her as Y/n rested her head against his chest gently
They'd never been this intimate before - but she loved how natural it felt as their friendship had always been one consisting of them being close to each other. 
She said she'd wake up before the sun was up to walk back to her tent, and Neteyam said he'd walk her there in the early hours of the nearing morning.
Normally she would've awakened in time - but she'd spent the night whispering and giggling with the boy who laid beside her. He was no better, laughing so much that the girl would have to press her palm against his mouth to quiet him. They must have fallen asleep hours later - enveloped in each other's warmth.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
Jake stumbled as Lo'ak tugged him along, bouncing like a maniac with one of the widest smiles ever plastered on his face. Neytiri trailed behind the two, fuming at Lo'ak for waking them up - the boy had even been pulling on their hair to get them out of bed and insisting they had to come and see what he had to show them that second
"Lo'ak, boy this better be good or else you are in big tr-" Jake grumbled, but his own voice trailed off as Lo'ak stopped in front of his big brothers hammock 
"Look, guys." He snickers, poking Neteyam's cheek, who laid sleeping - a young girl tucked under his arm as the two slept soundly.
Jake's mouth only hung open as Neytiri stepped forward, carefully examining the two before letting out a pleased gasp once she recognized the girl
"What is Y/n doing here?" Neytiri asked, a smile on her face as she watched her son hold the girl close to him
Jake blinked, shaking his head before answering
"I came to the healer tent to get Neteyam - she shooed me away, said he was sleeping. She was gonna bring him to bed too, I guess she fell asleep here." He said, brows furrowed - confused but happy as he saw how peaceful Neteyam looked as he slept.
Lo'ak looked from his mother to his father, back in forth in disbelief as his mouth hung open
"Are you telling me he is not in trouble?!" He practically shreiked as Neytiri yelped, slapping the back of his neck and telling him to hush
But the two teens stirred, eyes peeking open as Y/n quickly sat up - her eyes adjusting to who stood in front of her before they widened - completely horrified
Neteyam lazily sat up beside her, a sleepy smile on his face as Y/n covered her mouth - shaking her head and muttering someone kill me as Neteyam looked towards his parents and brother
"Good morning." Were the words he'd said, stretching his arms as Y/n bowed her head and covered her face, mortified. Jake and Neytiri's laughter filled the air only moments later.
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ohisms · 3 months ago
Text
✱˚。⋆ ↪ 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . ( a collection of lyric prompts based on various works by florence + the machine . adjust phrasing as necessary , will likely be updated in the future . )
it's always darkest before the dawn .
we will find new saints to be canonized .
holy water cannot help you now .
the horses are coming , so you'd better run .
i never felt so alive and so dead .
i'm damned if i do , i'm damned if i don't .
i've always been in love with you .
what has been done cannot be undone .
i don't care whether i live or die .
we will never be afraid again .
i feel nervous in a way that can't be named .
it was so far a fall , but it didn't hurt at all .
the saints can't help me now .
i want to find you and tear out all of your tenderness .
sooner or later , the things you love , you lose .
run fast for your mother , run fast for your father .
i like to think , at least , things can't get any worse .
i would give all this and heaven too .
i was in the darkness , so darkness i became .
all my stumbling phrases never amounted to anything worth this feeling .
in order to get to the heart of things , sometimes you have to cut through .
i'll be dead before the day is done .
time after time , i think "oh lord , what's the use ?"
the heart is hard to translate , it has a language of its own .
it was all so strange and so surreal .
i'm not here looking for absolution .
now and then , it seems that life is just too much .
be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers .
if you could only see the beast you've made of me .
pretty little face stopped me in my tracks .
i'm aching to attack .
you want a revelation , some kind of resolution .
it's so easy to say it to a crowd , but it's so hard to say it to you aloud .
i don't want your heart , it leaves me cold .
i am no mother , i am no bride , i am king .
she's a cruel mistress , and a bargain must be made .
well , me and my ghosts had a hell of a time .
with all my education i can't seem to command my heart .
it's a conversation i just can't have tonight .
you left me in the dark . no dawn , no day .
jesus christ , it hurts .
a woman is a changeling , always shifting shape .
the very thing you're best at is the thing that hurts the most .
i'll cut your little heart out 'cause you made me cry .
i knew that somehow , i could find my way back .
a thousand armies couldn't keep me out .
i'm ready to suffer and i'm ready to hope .
you've got the love i need to see me through .
is this how it is ? is this how it's always been ?
you keep me up at night .
oh , tell me it's not over yet .
no walls can keep me protected .
i'm going out , i'm gonna drink myself to death .
time goes quicker between the two of us .
would you leave me if i told you what i'd done ?
now , there's no holding back .
oh god , you're gonna get it .
you need your rotten heart and dazzling pain like diamond rings .
in the dark , i can hear your heartbeat .
i never knew my killer would be coming from within .
i was never as good as i always thought i was , but i knew how to dress it up .
don't forget me when i let the water take me .
this world is a beast of a burden .
you know i still like you the most .
what a thing to admit .
sometimes i think it's getting better , then it gets much worse .
i'm on fire , but i'm trying not to show it .
you are the space in my bed .
would you have it any other way ?
things go wrong , no matter what i do .
you make a fool of death with your beauty .
now she sleeps with one eye open , and that's the price she'll pay .
they were there when i woke up this morning .
heaven help me , i need to make it right .
until i wrap myself inside your arms , i cannot rest .
when someone looks at me with real love , i don't like it very much .
would you leave me if i told you what i've become ?
i'm always running from something .
it's good to be alive , crying into cereal at midnight .
okay , but let's discuss this at the hospital .
i know everybody lets you down , and i'll do the same .
your heart is the only place i can call home .
i wish to remain nameless , and live without shame .
sometimes i feel like saying "lord , i just don't care" .
i would put my words into poetry for you if i knew how .
if they ever let me out , i'm really gonna let it out .
but know , in some way , i'm there with you .
i've been wandering the streets for days .
don't let them get you down , you're the best thing i've ever seen .
how could anything bad ever happen to you ?
you couldn't have it any other way .
it's the only way i can escape .
what a place to come from .
little did you know your home's really only a town you're just a guest in .
run for your children , for your sisters and brothers .
you can't choose what stays and what fades away .
you'll be sorry that you messed with us .
call me when you need me .
although we stick together , it seems we're stranging each other .
this is as good a place to fall as any .
in your place there were a thousand other faces .
here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my rope .
lay me down , let the only sound be the overflow .
there's no salvation for me now .
i'd do anything to make you stay .
what's in a name ? i still remain the same .
i've been taking chances , i've been setting myself up for the fall .
tell me what you want me to say .
you are the silence in between what i thought and what i said .
i've been a fool , and i've been blind .
i never knew daylight could be so violent .
regrets collect like old friends , here to visit for your darkest moments .
so you packed your bags just to wait out the shitstorm ?
my doe , my dear , my darling ...
you're my head , you're my heart .
everyone lets you down in this brief hole of a town .
i'm not giving up , i'm just giving in .
i've been losing sleep , i've been keeping myself awake .
sometimes i feel like throwing my hands up in the air .
the only solution was to stand and fight .
i don't know how it started , don't know how to stop it .
i'm done with my graceless heart .
i can never leave the past behind .
do they speak to you ? 'cause they speak to me too .
i thought that love was a kind of emptiness .
it's hard to dance with a devil on your back .
sometimes i wonder if i should be medicated .
every demon wants his pound of flesh .
tell me what all the sighing's about .
could you tell from the moment we met ?
i heard your voice as clear as day ... you told me i should concentrate .
all my girls have their lace and their crimes .
i like to keep some things to myself .
no one asks any questions here .
the feeling comes so fast and i can't control it .
you came over me like some holy rite .
i was screaming out a language i had no idea existed before .
i thought that love was on stage , giving yourself away to strangers .
leave all your love and your longing behind , you can't carry it with you if you want to survive .
i thought that love was in the drugs , but the more i took the more it took away .
i never wanted anything from you , except everything you had and what's left after that too .
i don't want your future , i don't need your past . one grand moment is all i ask .
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ki-yomii · 1 year ago
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like i do | jjk
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➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader
➥ word count | 3.2k
➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, standing missionary, finger fucking, thigh riding, established relationship, angst w/ a happy ending, possessive!jk, jealous!jk, mentions of infidelity, trust issues
➥ summary | request - Jk being a jealous husband, angst and smuttttt 🥹💘
➥ notes | for lovely anon. hope you enjoy 💚 un-edited, i'll come back and fix any mistakes later. also poor jimin. i love him but i always seem to make him suffer lol.
💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚
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Eavesdropping.
Whether it was a stray conversation in a shop, or lurking around corners to see what others really thought of you, everyone’s done it at some point.
Now, it’s a habit Jungkook tries not to encourage - much preferring upfront interactions and direct conversations - but that isn’t to say he’s never eavesdropped before.
But the problem with listening in on conversations you’re not supposed to be is you run the risk of hearing something you wish you didn’t.
And while it wasn’t intentional by any means - he respects you too much to spy, even if the urge is there - he learns this lesson the hard way.
The first time it happens, he’s in the kitchen refilling his cup of iced coffee. There’s a squeal of surprise followed by a lighthearted giggle, the sound of shuffling limbs and a low grunt.
Everything in him freezes at the sound of your delight, gut churning.
He always works so damn hard to pull the laughter from the depths of your throat. And it stings that Jimin - his friend, his brother’s attempts are effortless.
It’s something so simple, and yet the effect it’s having on him is undeniable as Jungkook white-knuckles the handle of his mug and grits his teeth.
His jaw nearly cracks in two when he hears the softly murmured greeting, “It’s good to see you, baby.”
And Jungkook knows, okay.
He knows there’s nothing romantic between the two of you.
If anything, you’re too alike. Twin flames of the platonic variety. Not only would it never work out, but you both feel nothing but familial towards one another.
For fuck’s sake, Jimin was there when Jungkook proposed. Was the one to encourage it, in fact. Has been nothing but supportive about your relationship even when others disagreed.
However, knowing something doesn’t dampen the spark of jealousy.
Nor does it soothe the sharp flash of hurt threatening to steal the breath from his lungs.
Jimin has always been affectionate with you, and he’s always a touch too flirtatious. It’s a part of who he is, and it’s one Jungkook would never ask him to dim. Jimin spent far too long hiding, pretending, stifling himself for other’s comfort.
And Jungkook loves him as he is, encourages him to be his beautiful, authentic self no matter what. Expect maybe when it comes to his wife… for reasons he’s unwilling to examine.
All schoolyard flirtations aside, what bothers Jungkook most are the pet names. He can put aside his petty jealousy because he knows its unfounded.
What’s harder is dismissing the use of that little four-letter word: baby. 
It’s supposed to be his way of telling you how much he loves you. Special, intimate. A stand-in for the four-word phrase he whispers into the silk of your skin, tattoos into your heart with his lips.
The realization he’s sharing a part of you he thought all his own sits bitter on the back of his tongue, an acid burn eating through his throat until he can’t find the words.
When you respond in kind with a soft, tender call a piece of him shrivels.
Standing in the kitchen adrift and lovelorn, Jungkook’s left with an empty longing he can’t name and no where to place it.
You weren’t together for more than six months before he proposed, knowing you were the one for him by the second date.
Maybe he moved too fast, was too receptive?
Growing up, he’d always been eager to move onto the next big thing, ready to jump head first. Some said that would come back to bite him in the ass. Was this the day?
Perhaps you regret saying yes so soon. Jungkook knows he’s not like other people. They need time to settle into their feelings like a house settling old wooden bones.
The last thing he wants is to make you feel trapped, suffocated under the weight of all his clingy, needy problems.
So he smothers the discomfort and walks into the living room. He shoots you a smile and inclines his head towards Jimin.
Thoroughly ignores the pulse of pain when he sees how cozy the two of you look cuddled up on the couch, legs tangled together with Bam at your feet.
That should be me.
You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
He can’t lose you.
It’s there he silently vows to be less intense, less attached. Does his best to keep his hands to himself even though he wants to reach across the space between your bodies, and tug you into the cradle of his chest.
Bam picks his head up, cocking his ear to the side when Jungkook winces as Jimin reaches out to tug a lock of your hair, smirking around another purred baby.
Thankfully no one else but the dog notices his moment of weakness or the tension cutting through his shoulders.
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Staring at his reflection, Jungkook tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and fiddles with his tie. The three-piece fits like a glove yet he’s never felt more uncomfortable.
He longs for soft cotton and baggy loungewear but tonight is important.
It’s your first year anniversary.
He’s had this night planned out months in advance; pulled all the strings needed to secure a reservation at one of the best five-stars in Gangnam.
You’ve been looking forward to it all week, and your excitement is infectious.
Only Jungkook’s mood sours as soon as he turns the corner to find you on the couch with company, dolled up and radiant. Jimin’s beside you, one leg crossed over the other and swirling a half-empty wine glass.
He says something too low for Jungkook to hear.
“Jimin!” You titter behind your hand, the flash of the jewels on your nails catching the light. “Sto-op! You nasty little freak.”
“What’re you doing here?”
Jungkook doesn’t mean to snap but the inner turmoil spills over before he can shove it down.
Your eyes lose some of their softness, the happiness fizzling from your expression like champagne bubbles. Mouth pinching in at the corners, you narrow your eyes.
A lump grows in his throat.
“What’s got you so pissy, Kook?” you ask.
Jimin clears his throat, averting his gaze to the side as he mindlessly plays with the stem of the glass.
The frosty look Jungkook shoots him withers under your pointed glare. Shoulders sagging, he runs his fingers through his hair, unable to care about how much he’s fucking up the style. 
“Sorry Jimin, I… ahem. Anyway, are you gonna be ready to go soon?”
“Mhm, just let me finish up here,” you trail off, motioning to the last few sips of your own wine. “We’ve still got some time before we have to leave anyway.”
Before Jungkook can respond, Jimin cuts in while twining an arm over your bare shoulders, cheek pressed sweetly to yours, “You can’t rush perfection, Kookie. Isn’t that right, pretty baby?”
It’s no surprise your anniversary ends in disaster; a fight so vicious it has you fleeing with an overnight bag, refusing to look at Jungkook let alone speak to him no matter how much he begs you to stay.
Leaving him alone in an apartment ringing with your absence, terrified this is the beginning of the end and thoroughly convinced he’s the worst fucking husband ever.
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It’s been several days of radio silence.
No amount of texting or calling gets you to answer. And it’s starting to get to him, going out of his mind with worry, with guilt. If only he hadn’t said this, that, and the other.
If only you’d stayed.
Now, everywhere he turns, Jungkook’s forced to face the jealousy growning like a weed in his heart. And every day it gets worse; a stone crushing his lungs, a bottomless pit curdling his stomach.
He doesn’t know where you are exactly, but his suspicions are proven correct when he nearly busts down the door to Jimin’s apartment only to have you invite him inside, stony-faced and silent.
The quiet doesn’t last, broken by the awkward clearing of his throat as he avoids your stare.
“What are we even doing?” he asks.
Your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline.
There are bags under your eyes and heavy lines around your mouth. You look like you haven’t slept well. Jungkook’s gut clenches, bile bubbling up the back of his throat.
It’s all my fault.
“I’m not sure what you mean, Kook.”
“Please.” He refuses to acknowledge the plea for what it is. “I can’t - I can’t do this anymore.” His voice breaks, cracks in two, tears stopping up his tongue. “I need to know.”
Your eyes flash with confusion. “Baby?” You step closer, hand outstretched and shoulders relaxing. “What are you talking about?”
His intentions are pure, honest.
But months of simmering anger, of doubting everything about himself (again), of resenting the fact he resents you, resents Jimin at all, bubbles to the surface.
He’s not proud of it, but Jungkook explodes; a match set to gunpowder.
“I’m talking about you and Jimin!”
“Me,” you ask, blinking owlishly, “-- and Jimin?”
Jungkook smiles, sharp and unpleasant. Bitter and disappointed. Grief makes him mean, nasty. “Yeah, you and Jimin. Do you think I’m stupid - were you just gonna keep fucking around behind my back?” 
“Woah, pump the breaks! What the hell are--”
“Don’t even try to deny it.”
His eyes glint like shards of black ice, cool and assessing as he stares at you. Numb to the concern in your gaze, the purse of your lips. He’s slipping - he knows he’s slipping. Can feel the grief stricken rage pressing in at the corners of his mind.
The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, and yet he’s helpless to stop the words pouring from his mouth. “Did you like watching me make a fool of myself?”
You sneer, arms crossed over your chest so hard it looks like it hurts, “You’re doing that all on your own, Jungkook. I think you need to leave.”
“No, no, come on. I want to know. Why did you marry me if you don’t even want me, huh?”
Stalking closer, Jungkook corners you against the counter.
The smooth glide of his body is reminiscent of a large jungle cat, purely predatory. The uncomfortable thrill of it reflects through your gaze, the clench of your thighs.
Dark satisfaction curls low in his belly.
He asks, “Did he fuck you better, make you scream his name?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you’re being a fucking pig,” you say, shoving his shoulder towards the door. “Now I really think it’s time for you to leave. Come back when you’re not being stupid.”
Strong fingers clamp down around your wrist, and Jungkook tugs you into his chest. His free arm curls around your waist, pinning you to his front. The heat of your body can’t drive away the sudden cold washing over him.
“Let go-”
“No.” He watches as any retort dies on your tongue, your eyes meeting his head on for the first time. Whatever you see hooks in, refusing to let go. “I’m not letting you go.”
Shivering, you try to tug your arm free, “Jungkook, please. You’re starting to scare me.”
In lieu of a response, Jungkook dips his head, and inhales the scent of your hair. Dragging his nose down the length of your neck as the familiar perfume floods his lungs. Soothes the prowling beast caged in his chest.
A rumble of satisfaction vibrates through him into you, your nipples stiffening against him.
Jungkook sighs, “You always smell so good, baby.”
The tension threaded through your frame releases, your edges softening until you rest against him fully. Shivers race down his spine when your breath tickles his ear.
You call to him softly.
He hums, nuzzling into the side of your head, “Mhm?”
“Can you let me go now? Promise I won’t go anywhere.”
Jungkook pulls back to look at you for several long seconds. Unlatching his fingers, he watches as you flex your wrist. Then reaches up to tenderly curl the digits around your throat, transfixed by the sight.
A hook of arousal sinks into his stomach.
Yanks hard when you gasp at the push of his thick thigh against your pussy, your whine when he flexes the muscle. With a soft cry, you sag into his body while your hands fly up to plant themselves on his biceps.
“K-Kook!”
“Mm, that’s it.”
The bubble of emotions boiling under the surface of his skin is at odds with the satisfaction coiling in his belly, the interested twitch of his cock.
Jungkook rolls his thigh and works you along the length of it. The heat of you burns through the cotton of his lounge pants, so warm and soft and wet.
"Don't--" your protest trails off, smothered by your teeth as your eyes flutter in pleasure. "Hn!"
Shit, he wants to bury himself so deep inside you’ll never forget the stretch. Ruin you so good with his cock you won’t dream of anyone else ever again. He’d make you his and his alone.
Fingers tightening around your neck, Jungkook murmurs, “Let me hear you, baby.”
Unsuccessfully trying to ignore how good the friction is, you shake your head in denial. But there’s no hiding how turned on you’re getting, panties sticky and thighs clamping around his.
You’re absolutely soaked, evidenced by the growing dark patch on his leg as he grinds you into a sloppy mess.
“W-We can’t, Jimin’s h-home.”
Mentioning the other man is a mistake, and you know that.
Jungkook sees the realization light up in your eyes seconds after he tenses, rutting up against you harshly. The bulge of his cock digs into the dip of your hip, throbbing in time with the labored heaves of his chest. 
His kneecap catches, the sharp ridge smashing into your swollen clit. Your mouth drops open, and Jungkook slaps a hand over your face before the wail escapes.
He knows he’s being rough, but the tears in your eyes soothe some of the hurt. And honestly, he can’t bring himself to care overmuch, especially when your hips jerk against his.
“Better be quiet. We don’t want Jimin to hear us,” Jungkook snarls, “after all, what would he think if he saw how bad you’re gagging for your husband’s dick?”
Your indignant response is cut off by another muffled whine, his teeth sinking into the corner of your jaw.
A weak spot of yours - Jungkook abuses it to his advantage. Swiping his tongue through the layer of sweat that clings to your skin, the salt bursting across his tongue.
He groans.
“I don’t give a fuck what you or Jimin think.” His breath puffs warm and moist over your ear, voice whiskey rough when Jungkook says, “You married me. You’re mine, baby, and I don’t share.”
Relocating, his hand releases your throat and finds your hips. He slips under the mid-thigh hem of your oversized nightshirt, and snaps the waistband of your panties with a firm tug.
Pulling the fabric free from between your legs, he tucks the ruined fabric into his back pocket as a souvenir. 
“K-Kook,” you say, voice warbling.
He hums, eyes glittering dangerously as his fingers brush over the top of your slit. Your clit jumps beneath the pad of his finger, swollen and throbbing.
When you hiss low between your teeth, he smirks, and bullies the little nub with rough circles until your hips shift from side to side.
“Ah, shit, baby. Can you hear how sloppy your pussy is?”
Jungkook dips his fingers between your folds, playing with your gummy walls as he gathers your slick, teasing the rim of your entrance. The filthy squelches echo out into the otherwise silent apartment.
He preens, chest puffing up with pride, and says, “He can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he?”
Without warning, he slides two fingers deep inside to the third knuckle. Chuckles when you burrow your face into his shoulder, your nails dragging raised lines of heat down his arms as your walls give, fluttering around his thick digits as you adjust to the stretch.
“Mm, you always take me so well, baby.”
You clench at the praise, and Jungkook pumps his fingers in reward, curling up to massage at the spongy patch of your g-spot. You whine, head tossed back and thighs shaking around his hand.
Pain shoots through the base of Jungkook’s spine, and biting back a curse, he reaches down to adjust his cock from where its trapped against you, swollen and leaking.
“Yeah, you’re such a good girl.”
“Please,” you whine before mumbling something else.
Jungkook’s not sure what it is, but figures it’s not all that important when your eyes roll back into your head and your hips twitch.
You start to bear down on his fingers, walls tensing and releasing.
“Gonna cum?” Jungkook nips at your bottom lip, panting into your mouth and sharing breath as his eyes bore into yours. “Fuck! Do it. Wanna feel you cum all over my hand.”
God, you look so good like this; eyes teary and brows crinkled, sweat-slick and mouth slack. A sight he never wants to be without. His sweet girl, his baby, his wife.
“Yeah, that’s it.” His fingers curl and pulse, pet and stretch. “Now open those pretty eyes.”
A hand curls around your jaw, tugs at your chin.
“Look at me,” Jungkook breathes.
Please.
He watches, greedy, as your lashes flutter, the lids weighted down by pleasure. Eventually, you manage to crack them open, and he ruts forward in response. His groan vibrates his lips as they smash into yours in a violent kiss. 
You pull away with a gasp, slick dripping down your shaky knees. “I can’t - hnggg - fuck, Kook!”
“Tell me who you belong to.”
He’s unforgiving in his demands, a cold fire burning in the depths of his eyes. His cock throbs, his hips trembling with restraint as he stops himself from rutting to completion against you.
His heart hammers against his ribs, and his stomach swoops.
The answer will either make or break him.
Anticipation floods the room with tension; hovering in the air like a word about to be spoken.
“Tell me.”
“I -- you, Kook, I’ve always belonged to you,” you say, clenching down around him. “Please.”
Capturing you with his gaze, Jungkook hooks a thumb into the corner of your mouth. All the hurt, all the doubts, all the rage bleed out of him like water tossed over the embers of a campfire.
Leaving behind the single-minded desire to give you what you want. What you deserve. Because you’re his and the only thing he wants to do is take care of you.
Love you like you deserve to be.
Like only he knows how to.
The taste of your skin is sharp and bright when his tongue flicks against yours, and he hisses into the plush of your mouth, “Cum.”
Keening, your pussy throbs once, twice. Your belly contracts. And then you’re gushing wetly, a warm flood of slick soaking the palm of Jungkook’s hand, dripping down to puddle on the kitchen tile. Your walls ripple, muscles spasming as you shake apart in his arms.
Jungkook holds you through it, soothing the aftershocks as you slump into him - a marionette with its strings cut. You’re cotton soft, cloudy. Head lolling on his shoulder when you look up at his profile with hazy eyes.
“Show off,” you slur when you catch the sight of his satisfied smirk, the puff of his chest as he stares at something behind you. “Can’t believe you made me cum all over Jimin’s kitchen floor.”
The sound of a choked-off, slightly hysterical laugh comes from the entryway, “Oh, I can. Just glad to see you guys finally made up. Now I’m gonna go wash my eyes with bleach.”
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themindofachronicdaydreamer · 4 months ago
Text
Perspectives
marshmallow floof plot: Megumi recalls you and Gojo falling in love through his eyes. content: fem! reader, megumi is in denial about caring about Gojo, Gojo is obsesseddddd with you shamelessly, but its okay because so are you with him! warning!: megumi is not good with emotions :/ or tolerating Gojo word count: 5.7k satoru gojo x reader note: can we pretend utahime and gojo are the same age pls and thank u - also i am delusional and in my head suguru did not defect so gojo never had to go thru all of that okay <3333 anywau i hope you enjoy!! put a lot of thought and love into this!
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At only six years old, Megumi was already quite intelligent. As an extremely perceptive child, he understood far more than he should have at such an age. Typically, kids his age were naive and gullible; Megumi however was the complete opposite, and that was partially due to his aloofness.
When Satoru Gojo first met Megumi, he felt like he was talking to a grandpa in a miniature body, sassing anyone who dare interact with his little self. As stern and as gloomy as the boy persisted on to be, though, Gojo picked up on hints of tenderness and compassion laced between every word Megumi spoke about his sister, Tsumiki. Easily, Gojo could discern what he deemed too much deeply rooted pain and defensiveness in the young Fushiguro. Having his guard up was engraved into his mind; the wall he placed between him and the world had it's own sector in his immune system and acted with automaticity, an innate defense mechanism.
Despite all of the anguish intertwined in every breath Megumi exhaled, and despite his cold nature he employed to protect himself from being hurt again as he has before; despite being abandoned, and despite not being surprised he was; despite not even hitting double digits, yet already carrying the attitude of a the wisest owl; despite all of the thoughts racing through Gojo's head, he knew Megumi was special. Though a part of it may have been due to the responsibility he felt over the boy after murdering his father, Satoru Gojo was confident in one thing: he would take care of this kid like his life depended on it.
From then on, Gojo took the role of Megumi's benefactor, funding him and his sister so that they could live without worry. Megumi begrudgingly allowed him to endow his life, though it was rather difficult. The guy was so over-the-top and bothersome when he decided to actually go and physically check up him. Visits from were sparse, though, if Megumi really cared or needed anything, Gojo was always a text away.
And soon he would learn that you were, too.
The first time your existence was brought to Fushiguru's attention, it was mildly unintentional on Gojo's end. He was completing his routine check-in on Megumi about six months after taking him under his wing, ensuring he was doing fine in school - other than the fights he found himself in every now and again, of course. And after everything checked out okay, he rambled on about his week and how exhausting it was being the strongest, greatest individual to exist in this time and how much Yaga has been up his ass since he was promoted to principal and blah blah blah...
"Can you believe he was expecting me to get to the school before nine A.M.? Hah! Funny man. I need my beauty sleep. How else would I always look this handso- Oh!"
Megumi, who was in no way religious, praised in that moment whatever God up above sent a call to Gojo's phone at that exact moment, for he failed to believe he could have pretended to listen to another second of his unimportant and unnecessary rant. It truly was over-the-top, and Megumi was not a fan. He had never, nor did he think he would ever, warmed up to the way Gojo's ego seems to make a nearly empty room feel claustrophobic.
"Heyyyyy!" Gojo dragged, acting like a highschool girl with the way he twirled the end of his hair and giggled at whoever was at other end of the phone. If Megumi cared to look closely enough (which he totally doesn't, since he is so disinterested in Gojo and does not dare to look at him too long or he will automatically become annoyed), a rosy hue could barely be seen on the apples of the older man's cheeks, growing more and more apparent the longer the phone call went on.
Obviously, Megumi did not want to listen to the likely boring conversation, but since he was stuck in the same room as Gojo, he had no other choice but to eavesdrop on the phone call. Or, more accurately, he was playing detective to solve the mystery of who on the other end was transforming Gojo, as childish as he is, into a tweenage boy talking to a cute girl for the first time.
"I'm with Fushiguru, actually," Megumi overheard, his interest only minutely piqued after hearing his name. Whoever was on the other end must have known who he was already given the way Gojo did not feel the need to elaborate on who exactly Fushiguru was. That irked Megumi.
"Yeah, just hanging out, you know. I'd say we're best buds! Right, Megumi?" Gojo moved the phone away from his ear and looked at the boy across from him expectedly.
"No," is all Megumi spoke in response.
Gojo's eyes widened slightly, not expecting such a response, before he laughed and continued, "Silly guy! Such a silly guy."
The call took way too long and Megumi was half tempted to leave the room, but he was still getting used to Gojo and did not fully understand what his role was in his current situation. Was Gojo considered a houseguest? Was Megumi supposed to have something prepared as a thank you? Even if he was, he wouldn't do that for Gojo. What if something went wrong, or Gojo did something stupid? Tsumiki was at her after school club, being the natural social butterfly she was. Megumi had assumed the role of the man of the house at merely seven, and he was not going to disappoint her or let anything go haywire on his watch. This was his roof, and nothing would happen to their humble little abode under his watch.
Finally, Gojo said his goodbyes to whoever he was speaking to, set his phone down, and sighed in the most i-must-be-living-in-a-daydream-because-there-is-no-way-life-can-be-this-good-and-i-am-so-in-love-but-i-dont-even-know-it sort of way.
"You would like her," Gojo broke the silence after a few moments of savoring the butterflies in his stomach.
"Who was that?" Megumi queried, and if Gojo listened closely, he could hear echos of intense interest in the boy's simple question.
"A friend from work."
"You don't have friends."
"Hey!"
-----
After your existence was brought to light, it became a thing that whenever Gojo visited, he spent half the time on the phone - whether texting or on a phone call, it didn't matter. He was always talking to you.
Megumi supposed he should have felt grateful since Gojo finally became less unbearable. His check-ins, although hard to predict when they would be or how long in between they would reoccur, became less about how much Gojo loves himself and more about... well, you. It was a nice change from hearing his neverending egocentric comments, to be fair. Megumi was not complaining.
"You remember her, right, Megumi?" he asked while walking Megumi home from school one day. He was on a tyrant about something that had happened at Jujutsu High a few days prior before realizing he might had forgotten about the most important detail: you. The chance that Megumi may not even know who he was speaking about generated a sharp gasp escaping from Gojo's lips.
"Yes. She's all you talk about," Megumi deadpanned. What a stupid question, the boy thought to himself, when Gojo asked this every single time he bothered to show his face around here.
Gojo chuckled, responding in a voice that was way up in the clouds, as if he was skipping through a meadow abundant with good feelings and the potential for new relationships, "Hm, yeah. I guess you're right! Sorry, kid. Just had to make sure you knew."
At this point, Megumi learned a lot about you: You taught second-year sorcerers at Tokyo Jujutsu High, you went to Kyoto Jujutsu High, you were in same year as Gojo was, you were acquaintances for a while, your best friend (unfortunately so, as Gojo whined when he told Megumi) was Utahime, who was oddly protective of you and rude for no reason to Gojo (it is most definitely within reason), you were the most selfless person to walk the surface of this planet, you cared more for others than for yourself, and you and Gojo were really, really, really good friends now that you worked together and you two were close and he was friends with you and you texted him all the time and hung out too and you spent time together and you are theprettiestpersonhehadeverplacedhissixeyeson-
Basically, Megumi knew more about you than he comfortably should, and you were all Gojo seemed to talk about now.
Megumi found it sort of... endearing how much Gojo spoke about you. For someone so certain in himself and all of his glory, it was nice to hear him talk about someone else that way. He discerned an innocent intent in Gojo's actions, from the soft grin that graced his face when he rattled on about you, to the way he had begun to ask eight-year-old Megumi for advice on women (which he has surprisingly been helpful with - especially the time when Gojo didn't know if you'd prefer a specific flavor of mochi over another, and Megumi's suggestion ended up being the perfect one because it was your favorite). And though he would never, ever utter the words out loud, Megumi enjoyed hearing Gojo talk about you. It brought him down to earth and made him feel more like a mortal being; even Satoru Gojo crushed, fawning over you like you were a brand new toy and he was a toddler unwrapping gifts on Christmas Day. Even the man who had everything in the world simply wanted just like the rest of the world; he yearned for things in life that he did not ("Not yet, but surely soon!" Megumi was certain Gojo would say if he could read minds) have.
The two boys sat together at Megumi's, eating some sweets Gojo brought back from his mission. Gojo had a bouquet of flowers set delicately on the table in front of him, preparing himself to go to your house after his pep talk with Megumi and ask you on a date. Finally.
Staring at the flowers beside him, Gojo resolved to pick a flower out of the bouquet; a pretty, pale pink daisy that reminded him of the shade of your cheeks when he teased you. He rolled the green stem of the daisy back and forth between his index finger and thumb while echoing the declarations of his planned speech confessing his feelings for you. He had his heartfelt soliloquy memorized, but he was still feeling... apprehensive.
"She loves me," Gojo began, plucking a petal off of the flower and setting it delicately on the table. He spoke lowly, as if his life depended on the resolution he would find when he would extricate the last of the daisy's petals.
Megumi looked up from the book he was reading - a true crime mystery he had been quite invested in - to figure out what the man next to him was doing.
"She loves me not," Gojo plucked another petal, placing it on top of the other one he had already taken off.
Ah, Megumi understood it now. He's transforming into a child; his obsession with you had turned his brain to mush. He had now, mentally, been beat by Megumi, descending into the intellect a five year old smitten with a kindergarten crush.
"She loves me!" Gojo chirped. He plucked another petal before reporting with a glum tone, "She loves me not."
This went on and on. Megumi observed without a word and Gojo continuing the game that is so typically played on on a children's playground.
How on earth did you have such a drastic effect a man so above the rest of society? The man put on a pedestal by all of the Jujutsu world; the one who could take on any obstacle and leave without a scratch; the same guy who died and brought himself back to life; he could isolate himself from the rest of the world in an instant using only his limitless technique, yet, you always found a way to draw him back him - and somehow, somewhere in the mix, you had The Strongest Sorcerer wrapped around your finger.
"She loves me, Megumi!" Gojo proclaimed when he picked the final petal from the flower. "I mean, of course she does. Look at me."
Ah, there was the daily dose of Gojo's big ego; his head was as inflated as expected, but was on display little later than usual. Megumi referred to it as The Daily Dose of Gojo: DDG. He was bound to hear at least once a day about how much Gojo loved himself, whether through text or in person. But today, it was more like he was venturing to persuade himself on that fact, too.
Megumi then realized that this was the first time he had seen Gojo nervous.
He wondered what about you could make Gojo nervous, because not even the strongest of curses causes The Strongest Sorcerer to break into a sweat. What exactly is it that you have that grants you the title of the one human who could make Satoru Gojo nervous? He understood that you were special to him, but he still had never met you, and he is starting to want to.
He wasn't sure why he felt so protective over you. You were a twenty-year-old woman who he has never even met in person, even though he knew from Gojo the color of your eyes and the smell of the perfume you always wore. One thing was for sure, though: if Satoru Gojo messed with your heart, Megumi would fight him with all of the effort his child body could exert in one go, then kick his ass all the way to the core of the earth to be at such a heat that his infinity disfunctioned, ensuring he suffers for ever even considering toying with your feelings.
-----
"Fushiguru!" Gojo hollered as Megumi exit his elementary school.
Megumi glared at the white-haired male as he stalked toward him, untrusting of the motives at play. Gojo watched the child over the rims of his sunglasses, a toothy smile spread across his face while he waved excitedly. He had something planned, as per usual.
"What do you want?" Megumi groaned, and he eyed the two individuals in front of him with suspicion, though he already had an idea on who you were.
It was an uncommon sight for him to be picked up from school, but for Gojo to be accompanied by someone other than Ijichi was borderline shocking. There was only one person you could be, however, and Megumi suppressed the fluttering of excitement he felt as he saw you.
"Hey! Rude to speak to your elders like that," Gojo jested flippantly. "I want you two to meet!"
Fushiguru listened as Gojo repeated every syllable of your name that he has repeated a million times before. It rolled smoothly off of his lips, like caramel drizzle on the sweetest treat from his favorite bakery. It has been about two months since you, somehow willingly, agreed to a date with Gojo. It has been about a month since you agreed to officially be his girlfriend, which Yaga was not the most pleased to hear, but Gojo dealt with that and ensured the security of both of your jobs.
"Hi, Fushiguru!" You waved, a wide smile adorning your face. "Nice to meet you! Gojo talks about you all of the time."
"Hi," Megumi quietly said. He suddenly felt shy in your presence. You stood in front of him in all of your beauty, with the kindest smile on your face and the softest look in your eye, gazing at him as if he were the most important person in the world. Gojo did not do you justice when describing you to him.
And suddenly, everything Gojo ever said about you made complete sense - now, he finally understood how even the famed Satoru Gojo fell victim to the enigma that was you.
"I'm a friend of Gojo's! I wanted to meet you, and I don't know if you would want to, but I would love to get to know you," you offered. You folded your hands together in front of you and smiled politely toward the young boy. You were doing your best to not look too nervous because you really did want to get to know this kid, but from what Gojo's told you, he was not the most sociable character. Something about his melancholy aura is rather intimidating, to say the least, and you were doing your best to accommodate.
"...will he be there?" the kid questioned after some thought. As he spoke, he pointed his thumb toward his benefactor who immediately took offense to whatever he was implying, whining loudly in the background of what had become the two of yours conversation.
"Who, Gojo? Oh, well, he doesn't have to be," you suggested over Gojo's objections. "It can just be you and me. Or, if you are more comfortable with it, he can come with-"
"No. No Gojo," he interrupted. Gojo continued in his protests, but they all drowned into white noise as Megumi continued. "But sure."
You craved so badly to smile widely, high five Gojo for the feat you just accomplished, jump up and down, and display your excitement for his agreement on your face. But you were so worried you would scare him off, so instead, you opted for a soft smile while you said, "Great! Is now okay?
"Sure," he returned, emotionless as always.
"Perfect. Your pick on what we do. And it's on Gojo!"
And you walked away, ignoring Gojo whining after you. You'd coddle him tonight when he would inevitably pout to you about abandoning him for a little kid. For now, though, the important task at hand was getting to know Megumi Fushiguru - who reluctantly held your hand as you walked to the arcade he selected.
From then on, you were a common face in Megumi's life.
When he was in fourth grade, the two of you started a tradition where every other week, you would pick him up early from school and get ice cream and talk (as much as Megumi was willing to, at least). You had surprised him after school one day a couple months ago, and the routine stuck after he asked you to go again the couple weeks later. Not that you ever complained - you would never in your right mind take for granted Megumi willingly hanging out with you.
"So, how has school been?" you probed, Megumi begrudgingly held your hand as you walked through the busy streets of Tokyo (he claimed he was old enough to walk on his own, but you told him it was just for your own sanity in the scary world of Tokyo and when he turned ten you wouldn't do it anymore, and who was he to deny you of peace of mind when that is all you ever wished upon everyone els?).
"Fine," Megumi muttered. He was not the most fond of crowds, which was glaringly obvious as he squeezed your hand more aggressively the farther you ventured into the city. So yeah, maybe he did kind of appreciate your overprotectiveness.
That was the day you learned Megumi had his first crush.
Well, okay, it wasn't really a crush. He just thought someone was cute.
As you sat side-by-side, he ate his vanilla ice cream cone with chocolate sprinkles, you ate your choice of ice cream, and the two of you chatted - meaning you talked, and he occasionally threw in a word or two.
"Any girls you think are cute? Or guys?" You sought, emphasizing the teasing nature of your question by tapping your elbow into his side. Megumi glared up at you through the strands of his hair, but you could see the red tint on his pale skin - a sign you were on to something. "Ooooh! Tell me all about them!"
"Stop it," he sulked and stared off into the distance, ice cream forgotten in his hand. You could tell he was thoroughly embarrassed, but you just could not for the life of you get over how adorable he looked.
"Aw, Megumi. I'm just teasing. But you can always talk about that with me, you know?" you offered. "I can give you all the advice on girls. I would not recommend asking Gojo about them. His flirting skills are... unconventional. Plus, I know I'm your favorite. So just gives an excuse to rub it in his face!"
"Thanks," Megumi spoke broodingly. His ice cream was starting to melt a little down the side of the waffle cone. The treat regained his attention as he finally noticed the melting mess, and immediately, he tackled cleaning it up. He hated messes.
"So... does that mean I'm your favorite?" you interrogated. This had been a debate between you and your boyfriend for a long time now.
"Sure."
And amongst the crowds of people, you - a full grown adult - hollered and jumped up and pumped your fist in satisfaction, because that was the best thing anyone had every said to you.
-----
Megumi took back whenever he had the ignorant thought that Gojo was becoming more bearable. Completely rescinded it. He was absolutely the most unbearable human to ever have walked this planet; residing in the same millennia as this man was barely tolerable, let alone inhaling the same air or sitting in the same room.
Gojo wanted to propose to you and he wouldn't stop talking about it.
Or asking Megumi for advice.
Yeah. Satoru Gojo was asking an eleven-year-old boy for help proposing to his long-term girlfriend.
You had been dating for over three years, and Gojo was growing impatient; he wanted you to be fully his. Not that you weren't already, but he wanted to be officially - by the law, by the symbol of marriage, and by the ceremony that accompanied it. He wanted you to take his name and be a new addition to the Gojo lineage, and if it came to the day, maybe add some little ones to the family. It was getting the point where want wasn't enough to describe how he felt - it was a necessity to marry to, to be yours forever.
Megumi had grown a lot closer with you with the past months, even opening up a little. He mentioned to you his internal debate regarding "good people" and "bad people", to which you listened, you heard him, and you cared. Genuinely. You hugged him, and in that moment, he felt so loved, he never wanted to leave your arms - the arms that would protect him from anything scary, like nightmares or curses, and shield him from experiencing any more hardships. He wasn't used to that - yeah he had his sister, whom he loved so dearly and she did in return, to be cared by a motherly figure was something he had barely experienced.
For the life of him, he could not figure out how or why you willingly, even happily, subjected yourself to the hinderance that was Gojo. Every time he asked you why, you respond, "Oh, Megumi, you're a funny one!" and laughed the heartwarming laugh that made him feel like home. Megumi knew, deep down somewhere he wouldn't ever like to admit, that you were happy, and Gojo made you happy. He knew you loved Gojo. He was fully aware of all of that. And he had witnessed as your relationship grew more serious with time Gojo beginning to think for more than just himself - he grew as an individual, doing what he thought was best for the ones he loved, rather than what suited him best. Megumi knew that come to it, Gojo would lay down his life for you. If it meant making a deal with the most dangerous curse, or if it meant sacrificing his soul, Gojo would do it for you, and honestly, Megumi had the inkling that Gojo would do it for him too.
"What if I have a plane do the whole 'marry me?' in the sky? Ugh, but that is so overdone. I need to be creative and go all out for her. What do you think, Megumi?" Gojo inquired, to which Megumi only tuned back in because he heard the sound of his name.
"Just ask her. You know she'll say yes," Megumi grumbled what he already knew was fact.
"Well, of course she will. Who would turn down my handsome self?" Gojo gestures to his person, a confident smile on his lips. "But you're right. Ugh, Megumi, what do I do?" Gojo held an ebony ring box, anxiously passing it from one hand to the other and back, the piece of jewelry it contained an indicator of how serious he was about this. Why he was carrying such an expensive ring around so casually was beyond Megumi's pay grade, but he knew Gojo would not let anything happen to it.
"You'll figure it out," Megumi said, as he had no ideas either - you deserved everything in the world, and no proposal or material thing would be enough to thank you for all you have done for everyone else.
"Oh my god, I did!" Gojo jumped from his seat, giddy as a little kid, and celebrated whatever idea he came up with. He placed the ring box in his pocket, where he would protect it with every cell in his body.
"Great," Megumi said. He prayed to himself that Gojo would now finally get out of his hair.
"I'll take her on a nice trip - she's always wanted to sightsee in Europe, but hasn't had the time - and then, once we land in Greece, I'll do it there and- and I'll leave it at that. Don't wanna spoil the surprise yet for everyone. Thanks Megumi!"
And Megumi smiled a tiny little smile to himself as Gojo exited his house, excited for the two of you.
And he congratulated you when you came home from the trip Gojo planned for the two of you. You visited him and ran up, showing off the ring you were sure Gojo spared no expense on. Though, Megumi had already seen it from the hundreds of times Gojo showed him it, and not to mention all the pictures you send him from overseas.
And he continued to be excited for you as he helped you with planning - because if there is one thing to know about Megumi, it's that he is organized. So he helped you figure your ceremony out by ensuring all the paperwork you had and the appointments you booked and all of your purchases were kept track of, or else the wedding would have been a disaster. If Gojo asked him for help, though, he would laugh in his face and say absolutely not.
And then, before he knew it, the wedding was there. Megumi was the ring bearer, of course. He was almost 13 at that point, and he was starting to grow into himself and show signs of growing up (puberty!).
He felt... happy.
Happy for you. Happy for the new and official makeshift family that established itself. Happy to know that you were genuinely happy, and that for all of the love you constantly gave to others without hesitation, someone gave finally was giving you that love back, and then some. Because he saw how much Gojo adored you, and honestly, there was no one else he would want to be with you.
Now he stands, at Tokyo Jujutsu High for his first year at the school. His benefactor who drives him up the wall is his teacher, and now, not only does he have to deal with him normally, but he actually has to listen to him.
But at least you're there too. He has you, always.
And for that, he smiles. A rare smile reserved for the sparse moments where he is genuinely happy - and he is, because he knows you'll save him from Gojo if he needs you to.
The improvised family he's found himself in may not be exactly what he dreamed of, but he's happy with it nonetheless.
And he still struggles with the dilemma of what is good or bad, and he still struggles to find his purpose in the world, and he is still angry at the universe for putting him in this world when there was no reason for him to be there, and he still struggles with the pain of abandonment and his found comfort in solidarity.
But that's okay. It'll be okay. He has you. He has you because Gojo brought you into his life.
He's grateful for that.
Megumi hopes one day he can find the love you share for himself. But that's a problem for the distant future. And when he has another crush, you will be the first to know - not because he would admit it to you, but because somehow, you always know. You know him better than he knows himself at this point, and it's a scary talent you have, but one you most definitely possess.
With that, Megumi steps forward, walking alongside you into the building he will be at almost everyday for the next few years. While he wasn't holding your hand like old times, it was okay. Because he was growing up, and he had a future ahead of him that made you so excited for him.
"I'll see you later, Meg. Got a long day ahead," you bid farewell and ruffle his hair. The two of you stop in the barren hallway facing each other, and you are disappointed at how he keeps growing, and at some point in the near future, he will surpass your height. It feels like you're shrinking, honestly, with how fast he's growing.
But you always knew he would at some point, just like you knew that he would one day decline holding your hand while in public, and how one day he would outgrow your ice cream runs (though they still happen every now and then, just not as frequent as in the past).
"See you," Megumi responds.
"Love ya!" You lean and place a chaste kiss on the side of Megumi's head. You remember when you used to be able to place one on the top of his head without going on your tiptoes, but times are changing, or you're shrinking or whatever, and the side of the head will do.
"Yeah, love you, too," Megumi says, rushing the end of the sentence and turning around to walk away. You say it to him so often, and he loves you, but it's still difficult for him to express that.
But that's okay. It's all okay.
He knows whatever is in the future, you will protect him, and Gojo will watch over him, and everything will be okay. The two of you will love him unconditionally, even if he struggles to say it back.
And he'll never admit it, but if there is one thing he's grateful for in life, it's Gojo, for he brought you into his life, and what a blessing it is to exist at the same time as you do.
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"So, let me get this straight," you begin, staring at the three individuals in front of you. "You sent Megumi alone to find Sukuna's finger at some school, which was taken by random students who tried to unravel it, which ended in this kid-"
"Yuji Itadori, sensei!" Yuji introduces himself, saluting to you for some reason.
"Right. Itadori ate the finger. Sukuna's finger. And he is now Sukuna's vessel."
"Yup!" Gojo confirms and he gives you a thumbs up. "That about sums it up."
"So tell me why when I asked about three hours ago why all of the higher-ups were acting like they were shitting themselves, you didn't think to tell me what happened?" you ask, irritation with your husband woven in between every syllable you speak.
"I did, but I knew it would be fine, so I didn't want to worry you."
"Worry? Really? Do you know how worried I was when they said Sukuna was there?"
"Honey, you know I'm strong. I can face him."
Itadori looks to his new comrade, Fushiguru, to see if he was uncomfortable to watch the couple argue in front of them. He fails to be consoled when he sees Megumi wasison his phone nonchalantly as if nothing's wrong. Yuuji assumes Megumi was just tuning them out as a student being used to teachers bickering, so he decides to try to do the same. But it's not working.
"I don't care about your strength, I care about Megumi, and I care about the lives of those students, and-"
"Hey, Fushiguru?" Itadori says, and Megumi hums in response. "Is this normal?"
"-they were put at risk, Satoru! Do you understand that?"
With the couple continuing to argue in the background, Megumi looks up from his phone finally, answering, "Huh, this? Yeah. Get used to it. He's an idiot."
"Yes, baby, I understand, but I made a judgement call and I stand by that. I'm sorry-"
"Ah. Well, um. Can we leave? Do we have to stay?"
"-for not keeping you informed, but I promise you, I had it under control."
"Yeah. They won't even notice we're gone until one of them asks for our opinion and then they notice we're missing. It's just funny to watch them sometimes."
"The higher ups want to execute him! An innocent kid! And I know you got sweets in the middle of all of that. Are you serious-"
"You're used to this?" Itadori inquires, a naturally curious kid.
"-ly telling me that nothing different could have been done to prevent this?"
"I guess you could say that."
rawrrrr thank u for reading i love you SMMMM i loved writing this hehee <33333
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kyunniebuns · 4 months ago
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˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
・┆✦ Entry : 045 ✦ ┆・
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╰┈➤ ❝ [ Only If You Say Yes ] ¡! ❞
Jinwoo was the type of boyfriend who never forced himself on you. He was too much of a gentleman you can't help but think maybe you're the toxic one in this relationship.
But he wouldn't give you the opportunity to let it sink in on how good he treats you because he would just bombard you with lovely kisses and gifts.
In the past, he always lacked the funds and time to spoil his precious beloved. Now that he has the means to shower you with luxury, how could he not?
Your lovely and brilliant smile would always be the first memory that plays in his head whenever he feels like burnout and exhaustion is about to swallow him whole. Those precious eyes of yours that never failed to glimmer like twinkling stars are in his mind as he pushes through a hard labor day.
His beloved's face that is like a tender flower blooming at the peak of springtime, his lover's blinding unparalleled beauty will never cease to make his heart stop.
So how could he, a man who is nothing more than a fool in love, not treat you tenderly as if he is handling the more fragile piece of gem?
Every single thing about you is so loveable.
The elders say that the honeymoon phase of a relationship comes and goes quite fast, but Jinwoo begs to differ.
He never really got out of it.
Nor is the fool willing to change his ways.
After all, would you really call it love if you can restrain yourself?
"Sarang, careful there" Jinwoo cooes gently, holding your hand as you curiously took one step in front of the other while playing atop a fallen log. "We wouldn't want you to be hurt."
"I'll be fine, my boyfriend is the scariest hunter after all!" You say proudly, like a proud puppy showing off its toy plush.
"I'm not that scary," Jinwoo hums, the corners of his eyes curling.
"You beat up Thomas Andre like a thug, are you not scary?" He immediately laughs nervously, embarrassed to hear his troublesome history with the fellow hunter.
"...It was justified, sarang, he pissed me off"
"Mhm," You skip, landing playfully on the ground with a soft thud, "So like a thug."
"Sarang...." Jinwoo sighs, relenting in this small banter knowing you will probably not shut up unless he gives in.
And that was the thing about you, you made Jinwoo instantly obedient. Sure, he always considered being polite with other people before but on particularly bad days, he secretly spat and cursed at those people while maintaining an insincere half smile while doing the facade. With you? You can bully him all you like and he would still love you.
Arguements? Rarely ever happens because he is always wrong unless we're talking about safety.
Why is there a need for a fight? Just tell him and he'll correct himself immediately.
Jinwoo just wants to devote himself to you.
That's all he wants.
To see you happy.
"Jagiya?" He calls out, gently tucking a strand behind your ear. "Can I hug you?"
"What's with that question?" You raise an eyebrow but still stretch your arms out for a hug.
Jinwoo's strong arms would immediately.
"Nothing just..." Jinwoo sighs, burying his nose on your hair to inhale the lovely scent he can never grow tired of. "Feeling a bit clingy."
"You know you can always hold me whenever" You say, rubbing his back which prompted the hunter to hold you even closer to himself.
"I don't want to make uncomfortable" He chuckles dryly, "What if I hold you while you're not feeling it?"
"You holding me will always make me happy"
"I still want to ask," Jinwoo smiles, kissing your cheek affectionately. "Just because"
"Jinwoo, you're being sappy, you can't even get drunk yet you're acting like you're drunk" You say, pinching the man's cheek which earned you a soft bite at your digit.
"Well... I cant blame you for saying that" He simply says.
He just wanted to cherish you, really. He really does. The trauma of war can never really be taken out of his system. It's only through you and his family that he can feel sane. If it weren't for that, he would as well be a hollow shell of a human being forced to be a vessel of war by his predecessor.
So don't blame him for being a bit weird sometimes.
He's just a little fucked up in the head after the war.
He'll come around.
But Jinwoo will always, always, cherish you.
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꒰ 🪼 A/N: I am still in the process of having writer's block so please excuse this very bland story qwq. I'm mind blocked with Jinwoo and I feel so overstimulated. I might do different characters for now until I get my woowoo juices back. For now, please forgive me guys qwq꒱
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ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .。✧・゚: ~♡ — All stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.
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cloudwisp · 18 days ago
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𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐮𝐚𝐧 · 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
contents: slight hurt/comfort. suggestive ending. happily married (but not without its problems). he reschedules a date night you were looking forward to but promises to make it up to you. 1k wc.
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As Jing Yuan enters the room, he can see the petulant pout resting on your crestfallen face through the mirror’s reflection while you’re seated before your vanity. A hand-carved jade comb in your delicate hold as you run its emerald teeth through your hair gracefully. You can hear his steady footsteps approaching you from behind but you refuse to meet his eyes or acknowledge his presence. He knows the reason for your sulking behavior—why you’re punishing him with your silent treatment when you’d normally leap into his arms for a welcoming kiss at every first chance.
His chest tightens from the withheld affections yet his golden-amber eyes remain warm and soft even when you’re not on agreeable terms with him. The fresh floral arrangement beside him crumples under his touch as he places it on your tabletop. You can feel your resolve slipping when you accidentally glance at his apology flowers, and you note that business hours have long since closed and he couldn’t have secured this without calling in a small favor—and he made certain it’s your favorite to emphasize his utmost sincerity.
You know that you’re incapable of staying upset at him for long, and maybe even he’s aware of that and has learned you'll come around after he lets you have your moment of temperament. After all, he promised to take you out for a nice dinner tonight and imagine your dismay when you receive a message from him that entails his required attention as general to some affair that you didn't bother reading until the end.
“You’re pouting, my love.” Jing Yuan speaks softly, and he feels guilt welling up inside when all you wanted was to spend some quality time with him—as husband and wife enjoying a little night outting together with your arm looped around his and wearing that pretty smile of yours. And he hates being the reason for your dejected state right now.
“Oh, am I? Hm, wonder why that is.” You offer an unimpressed huff with your gaze still downcast and him a few inches away from you. However, you can’t help the surprised gasp when he suddenly bends down on one knee, his muscles rippling under his uniform when he grabs the underside of your chair and carefully pivots your weight so that you can no longer hide yourself from him.
His reverent touch clasps your hand that’s already in possession of the jade comb and you slowly meet his gentle visage, though your discontentment still lingers and he wishes nothing more than to make things right with you. His other hand reaches up and you brace for the sweet caress of his knuckles against your skin before he cups your cheek with tender-loving care.
“Mm. There you are, I like it better when I can see your face.” He murmurs and you’re reminded how much of a weak spot you have for him, melting so easily at his warmth and nuzzling into his palm as he manages to subdue your pout with a simple gesture. “My apologies for having to cancel our date on such short notice. An issue came up that I couldn’t ignore. Can I do something to earn your forgiveness, dear? You look beautiful, by the way.”
A small hmph escapes you at the compliment even though he’s not trying to get by with flattery. Jing Yuan has always appreciated your beauty in its natural state and when you add little enhancements to your features. Your radiance could overwhelm a romantic man into a poet and pen out the most beautiful prose to capture your essence, or so his slippery tongue revealed under a full moon when he sipped on too much wine in his years of pining after you.
“You should’ve seen me before I got unready for bed.” You set your jade comb aside and bring his hands down to place in your lap to hold and trace patterns along the center of his palm with your finger. “I wanted to look nice for you and wore this gorgeous embroidered hanfu I had custom-made. And I found the perfect hairpin to complete the look.” You continue to explain the details of your appearance and what you were looking forward to and your husband listens intently to your every word—something resembling a besotted smile as he envisions your descriptions.
With an imperceptible hum and nod in solemn consideration of everything, he’s relieved you shared your sentiments on the situation with him instead of shutting him out. Yet as much as it pains both of you, he made sure you were aware of these possible drawbacks that follow him as general and protector of the Luofo. And it would only cause a strain in your marriage to fester and wedge a gap between you two had you been any less forgiving, but you agreed to these terms when you exchanged vows and he always does good on his promise to remedy his shortcomings in more ways than one.
“It appears I have really disappointed you, hm? How will I ever make it up to you. Show you how much I appreciate you in a different way? After all, you’ve gone through the trouble of dolling yourself up for me.” With a soft grunt, he returns to his full height with you secured close to his chest and his arms supporting your legs and back in a bridal carry. “It’s such a shame I couldn’t be there to see you and your efforts, and to keep such beauty hidden away indoors no less.”
Jing Yuan strides toward the bed and lays you down, brushing the few strands of hair away from your face as he settles over you and presses a light kiss on your forehead. “Will you allow me to do just that? Take good care of you, my lovely wife?” A subtle nod from you and in the next breath he cherishes the sweetness of your lips, your eyes roll back under tilted lids while your arms coil around his neck and broad shoulders.
Every part of him is tender and adoring with how he handles you and he can only dream of reciprocating every last morsel of love you have so willingly granted him in your time together.
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beloveds-embrace · 24 days ago
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I live for the Found Family trope, it is like the air I breath and the dukedom AU is an amazing found family AU. Like the dutchess family never really cared for her, she was a commodity to be sold to her husband for political gain and she expected a life of abuse and servitude under his control, just like she was to her parents. But then she meets these amazing 4 men who worship the ground she walks on and takes time to actually get to know her and appreciate and love her and for the first time in her life she realises what a family is all about. Its love and acceptance and it is so so beautiful. And if her parents were cruel to her before her marriage and they find out? They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, but those boys would do everything in their power to destory her birth families reputaion and burn them to the ground.
FOUND FAMILY TROPE IS SO GOOD I ADORE IT 😩 i fully agree with you babes it makes me soo happy to write and see duchess getting loved like this
Dukedom 141 masterlist
You had spent your entire life as a pawn on your parents’ chessboard. A daughter shaped and molded not for love but for utility- trained to smile, to bow, to obey, first and then for your eventual husband. Your parents had made it clear that your worth lay in what you could offer them: alliances, power, status, and children. When they married you off, it wasn’t for your happiness. It was to seal a deal, and you had braced yourself for a life of cold, unfeeling servitude.
But then… there was John. And Kyle. And Simon. And Johnny.
You hadn’t expected kindness. You hadn’t expected warmth. You certainly hadn’t expected love. But that’s what you found with them anyways, a safe place to let your tender little heart rest and be adored
Johnny, with his reckless charm and unwavering loyalty, was the first to make you laugh when you thought you never would again. Kyle, steady and dependable, made you feel safe in ways you hadn’t even known you needed. Simon, sharp-tongued and fiercely protective, saw straight through your walls and vowed to stand guard at their gates. And John-your husband in name, but so much more than that in heart- looked at you like you were his entire world and made sure you never doubted it.
A family forged- not by blood, but by choice. And for the first time, you understood what family was supposed to be. It was laughter shared over quiet dinners and comfort offered without question. It was hands that held you steady, hands that didn’t hurt or inflict pain on you, but rather held you like you meant the world. And voices that called your name not as an order but as a promise. It was love, unconditional and endless.
When your birth family cams for a visit, they thought they still held power over you. They thought their words and threats could send you crawling back, begging for their approval. Cruelty lacing every letter and ever word, meant to remind you that they truly view you as something to be used and abused per their wants and needs.
But they hadn’t accounted for the four men who stood by your side now.
Johnny laughed at their arrogance when they demanded to see the chef because they weren’t happy with the food, sharp and biting, remembering how he had to spend nights promising you that you weren’t losing or gaining weight, you didn’t need to skip out on meals out of fear- he knows it was all their fault and he hates them. Kyle, calm but cold, began drafting plans to dismantle their influence piece by piece, never once hesitating, from the very second he witness the way they brushed you aside and didn’t let you speak. Simon was already spreading whispers that would see their allies turn against them, and John- oh, John- made it clear that any further attempts to harm you would be met with ruin, his voice sharp and eyes sharper, pullinh you behind him gently when it was clear your parents might strike you.
Because hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? No.
Hell hath no fury like the men who love her.
And to you, it was such a beautiful fury.
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thriftedtchotchkes · 1 year ago
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a matter of time
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: joel can't remember the last time he took things slow and let himself feel. you give him a gentle reminder.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, late boston qz era, joel's pov, smut, porn with a twist ending, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, slow/intimate sex, finger sucking, premature ejaculation, nostalgia, internal monologue, tess doesn't exist
word count: 2.4k
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It's been a long time.
Joel's all but forgotten what it feels like when it's this gentle. There's almost a tenderness to it, even though he doesn't know much of anything about you at all. Not your name or how you ended up here in this hellhole of a safe haven.
Nothing but the sweet, tacky taste of your 20-year-old Lip Smacker gloss and the tang of sweat and something sweeter lingering on your skin. But he's learning.
And he likes this new knowledge. Even if he never gets the chance to use it again, he'll devour it hungrily because it's a worthy distraction from the monotony of life in a quarantine zone. Day in and day out, he returns to this shitty apartment with its peeling floral wallpaper and rotting mahogany furniture—memories of a distant past that aren't his own and, yet, sting just as viscerally.
Tonight, the space hums with a different energy. Highlighted by the soft rays of the setting sun, the room's only purpose is to serve as a backdrop to you, and that alone changes everything. Your beauty, your responsiveness, as he lays you across his moth-eaten duvet is reminiscent of a different time, and he'll happily accept that reminder.
It's one of the few pieces of nostalgia that doesn't ache or eat away at him the longer he lets it in. No, you feel good. You're warm against his fingertips, soft and pliant under the path his lips follow from the sticky smear across your cheek, past the breath hitching audibly in your bared throat, down to your soaked, coarse curls.
You want him. More than that, you want to take your time with him, and he's surprised at how much he wants that, too. Trapped within these walls, what else does he have but endless, empty time? And there's nothing he'd love more than to spend it taking care of you, just like you asked him to.
He hovers above you, refusing to part his lips from your body as he urges you up the bed to rest against his pillows. They're flattened and scratchy from years of use and abuse, but they smell like him, and you like it. He can tell. The moment your hair fans across them, rich and lively in contrast, you bury your face into the fabric to breathe him in, and your body's reaction is instantaneous.
Your back arches with a heavy sigh of contentment and your legs fall apart naturally, welcoming him closer, but he waits. Reverently, he slowly leans back onto his heels to appreciate the sight in front of him, and he can't help but feel grateful. You're already glistening for him, preening under his undivided attention as your delicate fingers trail up to your breast to tweak a nipple.
As your eyelashes flutter and a gasp escapes your parted lips, his hand quickly drops to squeeze his twitching cock over his boxers and he keens, nearly doubling over at the pleasure that overcomes him. A coy, knowing smile quirks at the corners of your mouth, and he decides he needs to taste you again. Now.
He lurches forward, and you let out a surprised squeal as he licks into your mouth and commits to memory the faint taste of artificial root beer and mint on your tongue. The familiar fight for dominance he's so used to after years of quick fucks and one-night stands isn't there, and, instead, you set a languid, passionate pace that makes his head spin. It's a slow, deep caress—wet and warm and all-encompassing—and it's everything he hopes fucking you will feel like.
He's so hard it hurts. God, when was the last time he was this fucking hard? He's leaking messily through his boxers, desperate to be touched and enveloped and claimed.
And how could he not be? He's kissing the perfect woman. A patient goddess who's leading his hands across every inch of bare skin, showing him exactly how you like to be stroked and gripped, sighing encouragingly when he heeds your lessons just right.
You're one hell of a teacher, and he thinks he might just be your favorite student. He separates from you with a lewd smack and a string of saliva keeps you connected for a fleeting second before you lean up to lick it off his bottom lip. Your eyes lock with his and they're dark, almost completely consumed by desire, and it's further encouragement to continue on to his next assignment.
This one might just send him over the edge. You guide his hand down to cup your wet heat and you're drenched, dribbling and smearing slick patterns onto his sheets that he'll probably trace with his tongue while he jerks off to the thought of you long after you're gone.
Bathed in the dwindling embers of twilight, your silhouette—the plush slope of your breasts and soft curve of your belly and thighs—is cast around the room in artful shapes and shadows, and he wishes you were a permanent fixture. That your visage covered these walls instead of false depictions of growth and life. It's a dangerous train of thought, but he's too lost in the haze of your warmth and wetness to think about anything else.
He needs to feel you. He needs to fuck you.
He barely even realizes he's already slipped inside you as if he's been there all along, stroking your walls with the rough tips of his middle and ring fingers and honing in on that hidden, spongy spot with such precision, you'd think he'd done it a million times before. Thick, cording veins strain against his forearms as he tenses with the effort of keeping his thrusts long and purposeful, and he watches, captivated, as your cunt sucks him in greedily and fruitlessly tries to hold him inside you.
Tight—fuck. You're so tight. He's bucking into his unoccupied hand, jerking himself off over his boxers, and he doesn't remember when he started, but he can't stop. It feels too good...you feel too good, and the steady, simultaneous rhythm he sets for both of you isn't nearly enough.
Faster. Harder. Still so goddamn tight. He'll never be able to stretch you out enough to take him, and he's starting to worry he'll cum before he even gets the chance to try. His cock throbs violently against his palm, and he bites back a groan at the vision beneath him. Christ, how did you get here?
You can't possibly be real. Your thighs are quaking on either side of his waist and your pussy clenches dangerously hard around his scissoring fingers. There's a thin sheen of sweat matting the wispy hairs around your temples and pooling everywhere your body connects with the mattress, your searingly hot skin an addictive, sticky trap he willingly and faithfully succumbed to.
And those sounds.
You need his cock. Fucking hell, you need it. Greedy, patient, needy fucking woman. He can hear it in your soft pants and hitched breaths. You're quiet and subtle in your pleasure, so unlike any other woman he's ever been with, but when you whimper—fuck. Fuck.
He's going to give it to you. Right now, after taking the time to map and explore and discover, he's going to use his newfound knowledge to hollow you out, then fill you up until you're overflowing with him.
He slows to a stop and pulls his glistening fingers from your cunt, and there's that faint, perfect sound again. A stuttered, broken whimper that lilts with each knuckle that catches on your entrance. He sucks his ring finger into his mouth and adds your taste to his list of all-time favorites, right alongside your Barq's root beer-flavored lip gloss.
Then, he offers you his middle finger, and he swears he can feel your lips sealing tightly around his cock as you wrap them around it. You work your mouth up and down, bobbing your head eagerly like he's about to blow his load down your throat, and—
He's going to fucking cum.
With his finger still nestled between your lips, he wrenches his boxers down his thighs and lines himself up with your entrance, ignoring how close he's suddenly teetering on the edge. His balls are already taut between his legs and it worsens as he inches in his aching, neglected tip.
"S'time, beautiful," he grits out, still tender in his touch as he splays his hand across your waist to stroke your heated skin. "You ready for me?"
You nod quickly, humming your affirmation around him, and he gives you another shallow inch. He was right. No amount of preparation was going to ease the stretch. You're gripping him so hard, it almost hurts, and the thought of how tight you'll be when you cum—he feels delirious with it.
Yes. Yes. Squeeze him. Let him feel you wringing him fucking dry. Let him pump you so full of his release, you'll be dripping him for days, an intimate, lingering reminder of this night. You have no fucking idea how long he's been waiting for this, for you. He doesn't even know your name, but that doesn't matter. Right now, all that matters is this.
This deep-seated, unspoken connection. It's been a long time. And, right now, his time is up.
He slides home in one long, deep thrust, the tip of his cock tenderly nudging your cervix, and your body struggles to accept him. He lights up every nerve ending like a live wire, drags against every sensitive pressure point in perfect succession, and your walls begin to mold around him as if they recognize the sensation. Like your body's remembering him.
Sharp nails dig into his side and drag from his shoulder down to his ass, urging him closer. You're trembling beneath him, your breasts thrumming with sharp, rapid breaths akin to a hummingbird as he fucks you further up the bed, one slow thrust at a time. You're fluttering around him, a delicate spasm and, then, an indicative clench, and it forces a sob from his chest that he barely recognizes.
That's it, beautiful. It's right there. C’mon, give it to me.
He doesn't speak it aloud. He hasn't coaxed or rushed you with his words this entire night and he's not about to start now. He knows, for some inexplicable reason, that he doesn't have to.
But you do. It's barely a whisper—a single, hushed syllable that trembles and passes your lips like a plea. A prayer only he can answer.
"Joel."
Christ. He knows you.
Christ, he's cumming.
His vision whites out, and he's only vaguely aware of his tightening grip on your hips and the long, drawn-out groan that tapers into something devastatingly familiar. Your name.
Now, it's his turn to pray. He repeats it like a mantra, breathing it into your lungs as his lips crash onto yours. It's almost as if he's afraid he'll forget it again if he stops, but your body's response quickly convinces him otherwise.
You bear down on him harder, driven closer and closer to your peak each time he calls out to you, for you. You're molten hot around him, searing each letter into his skin with every pulsing clench of your cunt, and he does the same, thick spurts coating your walls.
He can't help himself. He stays deep—he knows he shouldn't, knows how dangerous the consequences could be, but he needs to—and your ankles digging painfully into his back to hold him in place wordlessly tell him you need it, too.
So good, you're so good. You're perfect. You're his. You're—
Gushing, squeezing, finally moaning for him. You’re cumming.
With it, your orgasm brings every memory of you flooding back at once. Late summer afternoons spent in bed while Sarah visited her grandma. Champagne-flavored kisses on New Year's Eve, soundtracked by Dick Clark and cheers from the crowd in Times Square filtering through the plasma TV in his living room.
He loved you. He loved this. He should've known the moment he kissed you, the moment he saw you, but he's been surviving for so long. He can't remember the last time he lived.
Your limbs surround him, pulling his entire weight down to rest on top of you, and you continue to swivel your hips into his pelvis, riding out your high as his name falls breathily from your lips. He works you through it, frantically blinking away the sudden blur that engulfs his vision so he doesn't miss out on another moment with you. Not ever again.
He's...he's crying. He didn't even know he was capable of that anymore. Sensitivity starts to set in, in more ways than one, but he doesn't want to leave the heat of your embrace. He thinks he might break at the sight of his cum leaking out of you and seeping into the undeserving fabric of his co-opted sheets, far away from where it belongs.
But, then, your lips meet his tanned, weathered cheek—a stark contrast to the young man he was when he was yours—and you kiss away his tears. He feels more fragile than he has in decades, and that's surprisingly okay. Because you're here to protect him, now.
Trailing from the apple of his cheek to his lips, up to the years of tension creasing his forehead, back down to kiss him tenderly, you establish a comforting repetition. He chases you every time you part, but, after a while, he's struck with a realization. What you've been trying to convey with your actions all night.
You always return to him. So, maybe this was just a matter of time. A slow smile spreads across that beautiful face he hadn't allowed himself to think about since the outbreak, and you huff out an affectionate laugh, your fingertips curiously running across his back and tracing raised lines and jagged shapes you've never felt before.
"Hi, Joel," you murmur fondly, still close enough for the tacky remains of your gloss to catch his bottom lip, and his tongue darts out to taste you.
It's real—it's too vivid not to be real. His eyes dart between yours, and he can still see everything your future together was supposed to hold. He still sees forever.
"Hey, baby," he rasps, his voice thick with tears and disuse, and something unidentifiable that sounds a lot like hope.
He hasn't felt this way in a long time. Not since you.
thanks for reading!
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deunmiu-dessie · 7 months ago
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(unedited) carmen berzatto comes home after a long day at the beef.
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your eyes momentarily shift towards the front door at the sound of keys and you slowly sit up from your curled position on the couch, dog-earing the page to your book and setting it on the table next to the armrest. checking the time on your phone, you let out a soft groan as you realize it was late - much later than the usual time he arrives home.
the door finally creaks open and you smile softly as your boyfriend walks through the threshold, closing the door behind him gently and locking it. he was tense, more so than usual when it came to dealing with ‘the beef’ and its employees, and your smile dropped gradually into a small frown.
“carmy?”
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you're greeted with silence from him and the sound of his bag hitting the floor with a resounding thud at the entrance. you can see the exhaustion in his eyes as he pads over toward you after shedding his boots, leaving behind the remnants of the outside world, he surrenders himself to vulnerability and sinks to his knees before you, wrapping his arms around your waist and nestling his face into your tummy. you can't help but smile softly, and run your fingers through the beautiful tangle of curls atop his head.
“hi,” you murmur softly, your thumb delicately tracing over his forehead to ease away some of the wrinkles that seem to always etch themselves there. carmen’s like jell-o in your lap, slumped and boneless. his body relaxes, the tension melting away, and you can feel the weight of his exhaustion dissipating. it's a rare sight to witness him so vulnerable, so unguarded, “hey,” is what he whispers back to you, it’s weary, strained, and lost. it makes your heart hurt like nothing you've ever experienced.
“tough day?”
carmen groans quietly into your stomach before flipping his head to the side, sighing weakly when your fingers move the brown curls from his eyes. it takes a moment but he’s finally able to sort through his mess of jumbled thoughts to communicate to you, “i don't know what i’m doing wrong, i don't understand.”
you hum and brush your thumb over his cheek, exhaling deeply. “with the team?” you inquire, a grunt of agreement, you hum softly once more. “sometimes, carmy, change and even big changes at that can be scary to some people." you detangle one of his curled strands. "the loss of michael has also affected them, and the thought of losing the things he’s implemented for so long can be hard.”
he’s silent, azure eyes flickering here and there as he processes, his brows knitting together and his tongue peeking out to moisten his lips. “i’m not saying they're right in the way they're treating you, i’m just saying you should wait a little, give them time. things will fall into place." you lean in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. "remember, carmy, you're a leader. your guidance and support can make all the difference. encourage them, believe in them, and help them realize their own potential."
carmy lifts from his position on your lap and without hesitation, you lean in and plant a gentle kiss on his lips, hoping he can feel the love that you have for him without having to say it. when you pull away, he places his forehead against yours.“what would i do without you?” he utters; you grin and hum in a playful manner, “crash and burn, maybe?” he chuckles, his warm breath caressing your skin as he affectionately nods against your head. "you know, you're probably right," he admits, his tired eyes reflecting the amusement in yours.
you pat his cheek and pull away. “now, go shower. you smell like richie’s horrible cologne and sweat.” he dismissively rolls his eyes, but lovingly plants a tender kiss on your temple before getting up from the floor.
“yeah, yeah.”
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