#she was a pretty decent size too

[floral-hex]

Took some pictures of this big momma spider with babies all over her back, but I made the mistake of zooming in and seeing all those little legs, so instead of having to look at that again, here’s my cat Oreo:

[spawn-o-satan]

Got a story time in the tags about where I used to live lmfao

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 6: Where…?

The first thing out of your mouth when you wake is a low, discontent groan as your hands fist the blankets around you. Your head and eyes throb. For a good several minutes, you remain completely still - no motivation to move from your semi-comfortable position. You really can’t drink like you used to, huh?

Eventually you work up the courage to crack your eyes open. At least the curtains are closed. The room takes a minute to focus, and the first thing you notice are the incorrectly colored sheets - lacking the usual floral print. You frown, grunting as you sit up. The second thing you notice is the t-shirt and sweatpants you’re currently wearing - not yours and easily a couple sizes too big. They have to belong to someone wide and tall to not be fitted on you. You don’t remember going home with anyone…

You take a moment to look around. It’s a decently sized room with minimal decor. A few art prints line the walls and the closet is in perfect order - separated by type and color. Though, most of it appears to be black. The bed is huge. Tall, too, you realize as you slowly slip your way out of it, nearly tripping on the long fabric of the sweatpants you’ve been dressed in. Glancing at yourself in the small mirror on the wall, you realize your makeup is gone and your hair is braided. There’s a dark wooden dresser and a matching desk with a laptop and sketchbook neatly placed on top. You wander over nosily, squinting down at the book. Oh shit! Oh shit, that’s Simon’s sketchbook. You’d recognize that collection of skull pattered stickers anywhere.

The sound of clinking pans and the scent of bacon slowly registers. Did… did you somehow end up going home with him? There’s no way, right? You remember asking him to dance, you remember him being surprisingly good and… and… that’s about it. On top of the dresser is your outfit from the night before, neatly folded with your bra tucked underneath. Your face heats and you cover your chest.

After a quick self inspection (and a nervous check for condoms in the trash) you decide you’re pretty sure you didn’t fuck anyone. Probably. Hopefully. What happens if you did? Would Simon tell John? Should you tell John? Will it make things awkward? Will he fire you? Oh, you really don’t want to lose this job. It’s the best you’ve ever had and you really, truly love all your boys so much. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes both to soothe the ache in them and to bite back tears.

You’ve always been such a stupid girl.

After giving yourself a few minutes to sit on the bed and properly freak out, flapping your hands in an attempt to get that nervous energy out of your system, you decide it’s time to face the music.

You slip your bralette back on before slowly cracking open the bedroom door. The short hall is mostly shadowed, lights off and the sun drifting in from what you assume is the living room. The door across from you is closed and to your left is a rather nice, spotless bathroom.

You peak your head out into the living room. It’s large and open, flowing into the kitchen as hardwood becomes tile and an island with stools between the two. Simon is the source of the clinking, apparently, moving around the stove like it’s second nature. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised he can cook - he’s a grown man - but there’s something about the way he arranges the plates, the from-scratch ingredients, that tells you he does actively enjoys it.

It’s cute.

Johnny and Kyle sit on a well loved couch just a few feet from you, both focused on some TV show you don’t recognize. A slow frown forms on your face, turning into shock as the door beside you opens. You nearly jump out of your skin as John appears beside you in a robe and plaid pajama pants.

A soft smile splits his face. “Mornin’, dove.”

“Och, she’s awake!” Johnny grins, throwing an arm over the back of the couch as he turns to face you.

You blink dumbly, head pounding and gut churning as you step closer to stand beside the couch. Without thinking you blurt, “You all… live together?”

“Course.” Kyle pipes up, looking at you as well. As if you were supposed to have known that already.

You melt to the floor in a hungover heap. “Oh, thank god!”

Johnny laughs. “Why thank god?”

“I was so scared I did something stupid…” Your voice cracks as you press your cheek to the cool hardwood. You didn’t fuck anyone, you didn’t embarrass yourself, you were simply taken care of. The relief alone almost makes you want to cry. Though, that’s probably the hangover more than anything.

“Oh, love.” Kyle reaches down to soothe a hand over your hair. “We wouldn’t have done anything like that, yeah?”

You nod.

“Sorry it scared you.” John murmurs, crouching to set a mug of coffee on the floor beside your head. “We didn’t feel comfortable sendin’ y’home alone.”

You nod again, slowly pushing yourself up to grab the mug. The bitter taste of black coffee makes you cringe, but it wakes your system up and seems to push your hangover down to a tolerable level.

“I should go home…” You sigh, not moving a single muscle off the floor where you currently sit.

“Not before you eat somethin’.” Simon calls from the kitchen.

You take the opportunity to look around the living room. The sun has been mostly blocked out by barely cracked curtains. There’s a little bit of each of them in it - artwork scattered across the walls. A few photos - one of John and Simon that looks like the opening of the shop. The leather pride flag sticker stuck on what looks like a toolbox doesn’t escape your notice. Probably John’s. You’ve never seen another man with such well cared for boots and leather coats. Maybe that’s assumptive. There’s a game boy and a PS5 behind the 4K television. Your eyes follow the rather extensive sound system to a massive CD organizer. There’s a short hall on the opposite side of the apartment where you assume the other two rooms are. Everything is so… homey. Comfortable.

“Wait, who’s clothes are these?” You ask suddenly, staring down at the oversized t-shirt and tightly tied sweatpants that pool at your feet awkwardly.

“Mine.” Simon shrugs, setting a plate on the coffee table for you before handing two more off to Johnny and Kyle.

“Comfy.” You hum, eyes zeroing in on the large breakfast in front of you - plate piled high with bacon, sausage, and waffles.

“Ye can sit up here wit’ us.” Johnny pats the empty couch beside him.

You think for a moment before shaking your still aching head. “Don’t think I should stand up yet.”

The food is even better than it looks. For a Brit Simon actually knows how to handle his flavors.

You groan as a particular rough throb stabs at your temple. “I don’t remember drinking enough to be this hungover…”

“Johnny can be very convincing.” Simon rumbles, stabbing a piece of sausage.

“What do you remember?” Kyle leans forward a bit to reach for his coffee.

You shrug. “I remember dancing. That’s kind of where it stops.”

“At least you got to skip the part of the night where Johnny starts rantin’ about chemistry math.” Kyle rolls his eyes.

“Och! Ye love my chemistry talk! It’s the structure of the universe! It’s-“

“Yap yap yap.” Kyle opens and closes his hand in a mocking ���blah blah blah’ motion.

Kyle helps Simon clean up. You try to insist to let you help as well, but they won’t hear of it. John offers to let you stay the day and sleep off your hangover but you shake your head, wanting nothing more than to take a burning hot shower in your own bathroom - as fun as hanging around with them all day sounds. So, you slip into Simon’s room to change back into your own clothes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kyle rest a hand on Simon’s lower back. A light touch, but solid. You don’t have the wherewithal to think about it.

You peel off Simon’s clothes and put yours back on with a wrinkled nose. There’s something so gross about it, not that you’re clean right now anyway. Thank god you had the foresight to not wear underwire. You order yourself a car on your mostly dead phone as you wander back out to the living room. Your skirt suddenly feels far too exposing for the daylight.

You chew your lip. “My driver’s five minutes out… so, I’ll see you guys Wednesday?”

“I’ll walk you down.” John grunts, pulling himself up out of the arm chair.

“Oh, you don’t have to-” You pause when he gives you that look you’ve come to recognize as ‘don’t argue, I’m doing it anyway.’

You give a round of goodbyes to the others who make no movement to get off the couch, fully sunken in. Johnny has sprawled over the L part of the couch with an arm over his eyes and a water bottle in hand.

“Thanks for letting me stay over. Sorry if I got too, uh, sloppy or whatever.” You murmur as the elevator makes for the lobby.

John chuckles. “No more than Johnny ever does. I’m glad you came. Lookin’ forward to the next one.”

You heart skips as you nod. “Me too.”

John leans forward just as your driver pulls up, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. Your back stiffens and your stomach flutters - face hot as he pulls away.

“See you at the shop.” He nods, sauntering back into the building like he didn’t just give you a heart attack.

Bonus:

“No, ye need an oil cleanser first.” Johnny slurs. “Tha’s how ye get the - hic - the makeup off.”

“Don’t act like I didn’t teach you everythin’ you know about skin care y’muppet.” Kyle snipes back as he digs through the drawers under the counter.

“Workin’ on yer John impersonation, I see.” Johnny snickers. Kyle bats at his arm.

You just giggle, seated on the toilet in Kyle and Johnny’s shared bathroom and swaying back and forth. Simon leans in the doorway, watching as the two drunkenly try to help you get your makeup off. All three of you bursting out into another fit of giggles when Kyle squeezes your round cheeks to make a fish face. It occurs to him that he’s never seen you bare faced. None of them have. Not that you come in everyday with a full beat but even so, there’s something intimate about it. To him, at least. Something about you perched in their apartment, in his clothes, having Johnny smudge moisturizer over your face while Kyle braids your hair to keep it from tangling overnight.

The three of you fit together so well…

John puts on a stupid action movie. Something to distract everyone as you wind down and sober up before bed. You snuggle up to Johnny, unsurprisingly, tucking yourself under his arm with your head on his chest. He’s practically Pavlov’d you into constantly touching each other. Just like he did with the rest of them. He jumps a bit when you press your socked feet to his thigh, humming comfortably. There’s a stupid grin plastered across your face.

“Alright, off to bed with you.” John chuckles as you snore comfortably on Johnny’s chest. The Scot is equally asleep, your chests rising and falling in an asynchronous rhythm. John loops his arms under your back and knees, just as strong as he’s always been, carefully cradling you against his chest as he takes you to Simon’s room.

Simon follows, glancing sideways at your clothes in his dresser. You groan as John lowers you but don’t wake up - well and truly passed out.

Simon pauses for a moment before following John out, staring down at you. He’s no better than the others, the alcohol numbing his inhibitions. So, he reaches down, and swipes a thumb over your slightly parted lips. Just as soft as he thought…

He settles into John’s bed, the frame creaking under their combined weight. Neither of them are particularly slight, after all.

“Glad y’danced tonight.” John mutters, reaching over to turn off his lamp.

Simon just grunts.

“She’s good for you.”

“She’s good for us.” He blurts, immediately wanting to shove the words back down his throat.

To his surprise, John just nods, turning to sling an arm over Simon’s waist. “She is.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for enjoying this series with me, it means a ton! I’m sorry I’m not very good at responding to replies/asks but I really do love and appreciate you all!

Hope you’re pumped for the next part bc I am

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining Ghost having a non-existent love life due to his past trauma. After much prodding, Soap convinces him to hire an escort to fulfil his needs. Not just any escort, either, but one of his old schoolmates who specializes in "the complete girlfriend package". (She's also plus-sized.)

-

"She's a right classy bird. Chooses her Johns real carefully." Soap admits, leaning against the bar top. He pulls out his phone and begins to scroll through his Instagram feed. "She's a lil' pricey, but look. She's got a private villa that she'll keep ye in the whole weekend."

Soap swipes through clusters of photos. The villa is beautiful and the interior has a rustic, home-y vibe to it. It doesn't look like a manufactured place, but like someone actually lives there. Ghost is intrigued just by that fact alone. He's never really had a place to stay when on leave. Well, he doesn't count his shithole flat as much of anything.

"She'll cook fer ya too. N' I think she's some type of masseuse?" Soap prattles on, flicking through even more pictures. It seems he was right. In one of the extra bedrooms there's a massage table set up.

"What she look like?"

Soap smiles sheepishly.

"She's not the type of bird I've seen you go for in the past." He admits before pulling up a folder of pictures on his phone. "But she's bonnie, Lt. A right knockout, I swear."

He scrolls towards the bottom of the folder, looking for a more recent picture. Ghost notices the the skin colored thumbnails as they pass by in a flurry. He already knew, didn't really care, but decides to press on it for his own amusement.

"You one of her Johns?"

Soap nearly chokes. He stops scrolling and looks up at Ghost.

"Well, um...yeah." He admits. Ghost taps on one of the juicy thumbnails. It opens the video. Despite himself, Soap blushes.

Neither man say anything else for a minute. They quietly watch the screen as a pretty cunt is being stretched out by a cock they both know the owner of. She's wet and dripping and glistening in the phone's flash. Her cunt is visibly softer, rounder, with thick outer lips and even cushier looking inner thighs.

Ghost is instantly intrigued by the sight of this woman's body. He'd always found himself in situations with toned or muscular women. He never thought much of it at the time. Ghost was rarely around civilians, and even then he never frequented places a soft girl like her would be seen. Now, in the rec-room, watching a video of Johnny fucking open this girl he realizes he's been going about things all wrong.

Johnny's not being very nice to the girl in the video either. Its apparent he's putting his whole weight and stamina into his thrusts. Ghost couldn't remember ever fucking a woman like that. He'd always had to go slow, angle himself just right to avoid hurting himself or his lovers. A tinge of jealousy shoots up his spine when he notices how the soft pudge of her thighs cushions Johnny's much sharper hipbones.

"Hm..."

"You like 'er?" Johnny asks. "She told me she's looking for 'new clients' if yer interested."

Ghost taps through even more of the photos and videos. They're mostly of her pretty cunt being fucked out but there's a few of her looking cute and relaxed in lingerie or nothing at all. She's got a decent face. Better tits though. Ghost doesn't think he's ever seen a set that fucking soft or suckable.

The last video in the folder is of her bare ass. She looks over her shoulder, smiles flirtatiously, then proceeds to shake her body in a way that makes her ass bounce rigorously. Johnny's hand comes into frame. He grips roughly at one of her cheeks and spreads her apart. A thick glob of cum spills from her slightly gaping, inner lips. The video ends.

Ghost raises his brow at Soap.

"She lets you cum in 'er?"

"Ya know I don't like rubbers, Lt. Can't stand the wee fucks." Soap laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I jes' get a copy of my physical from the doc. Send it over t' her 'fore I drop by."

Ghost huffs.

"Here, lemme give you 'er number."

Ghost doesn't try to stop him when Soap fishes his hand into his jacket pocket. He already knows the security code.

"I'll let 'er know yer a friend 'o mine. 'F I vouch for you she'll take ya in no problem." He nods. "I think you're gonnae thank me after all this s' said n' done, Lt."

For good measure Soap texts her a simple greeting from Ghost's phone. She replies within a few seconds. Ghost's eyes glint at the little notification flash.

"We'll see..."

[just-jordie-things]

clean little secret - itadori yuji

word count: 7.4k warnings: none! summary: yuji and (y/n) are keeping a secret from the others... yuji loves to be pampered by her. more info: tooth rotting fluff, crushing, friends to lovers

for stef <3 ___

Itadori Yuji wasn’t one for keeping secrets.  For one, he believed they often caused more harm than good.  So unless it was a surprise party, he had no interest in them.  Even if Nobara swore it was a particularly juicy piece of information, Yuji had no problem covering his ears with his hands and walking in the other direction.  And for two, well, he just wasn’t that great at keeping them, and after a few accidental slips, he’d decided to keep himself secret free.

Of course, the dirty little secret he had of his own didn’t count.  But it wasn’t like any harm could come of it… he was pretty sure… so long as (y/l/n) (y/n) didn’t let it slip either.

“So whaddya say?” Nobara’s unusually chipper voice drew Itadori back to the present conversation with the tell-tale hum of a boy that hadn’t listened to a thing she’d said.

Megumi briefly rolls his eyes, (y/n) lets out a short giggle that she quickly stifles behind her hand, and Nobara places her hands on her hips as she turns towards the pink haired sorcerer with a frown.

“Do you want to go see that movie tonight or not?” She asks him pointedly, as if she hadn’t spent the last few minutes coming up with a whole plan for picking up snacks and sneaking them into the theater.

“Oh!” Realization dawns on Yuji in the form of a bright grin, but Nobara’s hope is quickly deflated when he shakes his head.  “No, I can’t, sorry” 

Before the redhead could strangle him for getting her hopes up with his stupid smile, Megumi’s backing out too, and her attention is quickly swiveled towards (y/n), who had suspiciously kept her expression behind her hand.

“Sorry, Nobara,” She lowers her hand to reveal her frown.  “I can’t tonight either.  But maybe this weekend?” She tries to compromise, but it appears Nobara was already defeated by the sting of a triple rejection.

“Fine, whatever, this weekend,” She mumbles, hoping a pouty lip would be the final straw to convince her friends.  When no one moves, her expression returns to its usual resting bitch face and she turns to leave.  “But if the groupchat is as dead as your energy later, then I’m going with Maki instead!” She hollers.

That was close, Yuji thought to himself as the group dispersed and he hurriedly made his way down the hall.  Luckily this time, Nobara didn’t shake him down to interrogate him into telling her what better things he could have to do for the evening.  God, that could’ve gotten embarrassing.

After a quick stop by his dorm to change out of his uniform, Yuji made sure the halls were clear before he booked it across the building, moving as fast as he could while keeping his steps as quiet as possible, before he slid to a stop in front of her door.

With two quick but rhythmic knocks, her door slid open, and (y/n) peeked out, eyeing both directions of the hall around Yuji to make sure no one was around to see her let him in.

“You’re sure no one followed you?” She whispers, finally meeting his eyes.

Yuji shook his head confidently.  Her lips broke into a grin so wide that the corners of her eyes crinkled.

“Well then get in here already!” She says with hushed excitement, grabbing him by the front of his tee shirt and pulling him inside, closing the door behind him in one swift movement.

Yuji seats himself at the end of her bed while she grabs her phone off her desk, scrolling through an abundance of spotify playlists before settling on just the right one.

“I’m so glad we’re finally doing this” She tells him, effectively turning his cheeks pink.

“Yeah, me too” He agrees, hoping his nerves aren’t too obvious in his voice.

“I’ve been dying to show you what I just got for christmas” She adds, practically skipping into the bathroom to retrieve a decently sized plastic basket full of products Yuji can’t even recognize.  She has to carry it over to him with both hands, and he knows he should probably be intimidated by what they’re about to do, but he doesn’t.

As (y/n) drags him into her tiny bathroom to set up the array of items, she lists off each one as she shows him.  Hydrating mask, lip mask, eyelash serum, somehow it all sounds relaxing and terrifying all at once, but he trusts her, so he nods along to each one.  She seems delighted enough just to show off her little collection of products, so Yuji’s determined to match her excitement.

Truthfully, Yuji had never touched anything like this.  Sometimes he moisturized his hands when they got dry in the colder seasons, but he wouldn’t say he knew a thing about skincare.  And yet, one afternoon while walking with (y/n) from one class to another, he found himself getting carried away telling her how he was trying to take better care of himself and he wanted to establish a proper skincare routine.  Before he knew it he was agreeing to being pampered by her- on the condition that it remained secret.

Now remember, one of Yuji’s very few rules of life included the simple act of not keeping secrets.  But that day he’d agreed to her condition without a moment of hesitation.  He could understand why she didn’t want the others knowing that she was going to give him special treatment, seeing as Nobara had been begging to give everyone makeovers since she’d arrived at Jujutsu Technical College.

While he’s not disappointed in his plan for the afternoon, Yuji does feel incredibly out of place in her bathroom.  The dorms were small enough, and the bathrooms barely had room for one person to move around comfortably.  But (y/n) doesn’t seem crowded at all as she rummages through the couple of drawers next to him.

With a grin she retrieves what she’d been looking for- two fluffy headbands held proudly in her hand.

“I got one for you too,” She tells him, bashfully avoiding his eyes as she extends one out to him.  “You’ll want to keep your hair back, the mask can get really sticky” 

Yuji examines the soft baby pink material as if he’d never seen a headband before.  He’s pretty sure he knows how to use it, but just in case, he watches as (y/n) slides hers on first.  It’s not until he sees the ears on top that he checks his again, delighting in the matching cat ears before he pulls it around his neck and puts it on.

“Thanks!” He beams at both of their reflections in her mirror.  He wishes he could take a picture of them, just to have a picture of the two of them wearing the matching accessory, but he knows he can’t risk the others seeing, so for now he settles on memorizing the image.

“You’re welcome,” (y/n) bites the inside of her cheek to keep her grin from getting too goofy, and quickly redirects their attention to the first item on the agenda.  “You’ve really never done a face mask before?” 

“Nope,” Yuji shakes his head, leaning into the counter as he waits for her direction.  “Is it going to hurt?” 

“No!” (y/n) giggles, before beckoning him to hold his hand out as she uncapped the product.  “It’ll feel nice, here, put a little on,” She instructs, squeezing a dollop of green onto his fingers.  She laughs again at his reaction to the color, but he doesn’t question her as he right away rubs it onto his nose.

He had the right idea, but from the way he messily spread it over the bridge of his nose, she could tell he was going to struggle with the application.

“No no, you’re getting it everywh- oh my god don’t put it in your nose!” She squeals as she smacks his hand away, quickly stepping into his space and taking over.

Honestly, Yuji wasn’t trying to get her to do it for him, but as soon as she gently grabs his jaw in one hand while the other is carefully swiping the excess cream off of the tip of his nose, he decides right then and there to surrender.

“I didn’t know, I’ve never done it” He whines, a bit more dramatically than necessary.

“It shows,” She laughs quietly before reaching for the product again to pump more onto her own fingers.  “I can just do it for you, if you want?” She offers.

Yuji smiles and nods gratefully, his heart doing a victory dance in his chest.

“Only if you don’t mind” He tells her, already sitting himself down on her toilet seat so she didn’t have to reach up to his face.  (y/n) fights the urge to roll her eyes at his swiftness in letting her take over.

“I don’t mind,” She shrugs, getting to work applying a generous amount of lime green mask to his cheeks first.  “It’s relaxing to me, actually” 

“Really?” 

“Mhm,” She nodded along, focused on keeping the application even.  “I would’ve loved having a sibling or a cousin or something to do this stuff with,” She tells him.  “I know Nobara would… but… she’s so intense about it sometimes,” She admits, and Yuji hums in agreement.  Nobara was the most passionate person he’d ever met, and it was her greatest strength, but it did freak him out from time to time.  “Not like us” 

The murmured comment sits on his mind longer than it should have.  Not like us, she’d said, filling his insides with the fuzzy, familiar feeling of having something with her that the others didn’t.  This was all his, and she’d said so herself.  They couldn’t possibly understand them the way they understood each other.  

Not like us.  Not like us.  Not like us.

Yuji closes his eyes when her careful fingers spread the mask up the bridge of his nose before she gets started on covering his forehead.

“You do this stuff all the time though?” He asks when there’s too long of pause since he’d last heard her voice.

Not that he could forget what it sounded like, no never, most of Yuji’s day was spent waiting for her to speak, just so he could listen.  Whether she was arguing with Gojo about a ridiculous lesson plan or going on about a conspiracy theory just to get their lunch table riled up, if (y/n) was talking, Yuji had his mouth shut and his ears wide open.  He liked hearing the things she had to say, he liked the way she said them.

And he was learning now that he especially liked when he was the only one she was speaking to, and that if she was standing close, her voice came out in soft murmurs, cautious of the short space between them, and gentle on his ears as it barely echoed off the ceramic tiled walls.

“Maybe not all the time,” She hums thoughtfully.  “But I do it when I can, I try to keep up with it anyways” 

“Well it feels really nice” Yuji mumbled, almost getting sleepy as he grew used to the feeling of her warm fingers spreading the cooling cream on his skin.  (y/n) giggles again, breathy and amused as she watches his shoulders droop downwards.

“Don’t fall asleep on the toilet, Yuji,” She scolds him, but it’s hardly threatening when it’s between strings of giggles as he lazily opens his eyes to look at her.  “You’ll make a mess if you fall and hit your head on the counter” 

“I’d clean it up” He mumbles back in defeat.

“What if you were concussed?” 

“... I’d clean it up later” 

She laughs at his antics just as she’s making her final touches near his temple, spreading the green cream just so, making sure none of it would get stuck to his eyebrow.  With an affirmative nod of her head she steps back to assess her work.  

As sticky, creamy, and unfamiliar as the mask feels, Yuji’s currently grateful that it’s there to cover the way his face heats up under her direct gaze.  He’s always thought that she’s had the softest eyes- doe-like, and sweet, and easy to gaze into- but with every ounce of her attention directly on his face, Yuji starts to sweat a little bit.

His intentions of becoming closer friends through a night of pampering was starting to backfire, and instead the little crush he’d been hiding was now festering.  Bubbling and smoking just under the thinly veiled surface of his restraint.

“You’re all set,” She beams at him, which he easily returns.  “Try not to touch it while I do mine, okay? It’s gotta sit for a while” 

Yuji drops his hand just as he’s about to swipe off a generous streak of cream from his cheek, smiling innocently as (y/n) gives him a warning look before she turns towards her mirror to apply her own mask.

“Serious question, if I eat it, while I throw up?” 

(y/n) pauses mid-smear on her cheek, turning back to Yuji and sweeping her eyes over him to assess if he was actually serious about eating face cream.  He did know it wasn’t guacamole… right? She didn’t need to tell him that… right?

“If you eat it, I’ll be plucking your eyebrows after mine” She settles on a friendly threat.  

Yuji’s lips pinch and she gets back to work on her mask, certain she’d done the trick to keep him sitting still.

“Well that sounds horrifying,” He mumbles.  “But I’m in” 

(y/n) scoffs out of amusement, still focused on her reflection.

“You want me to pluck your eyebrows?” 

“If you’re doing it, then sure,” Yuji shrugs, not thinking twice about agreeing to it.  “It wouldn’t be a complete spa night otherwise” He adds with a grin that she can see from the corner of her eye.

“Well, if you really want…” She mumbles, doubling down her focus on applying her mask.

A part of her had been hoping he wasn’t agreeing to all this pampering just to please her, she hoped he wasn’t dreading the night going forward.  But if he hated it… he wouldn’t be signing himself up for eyebrow plucking… right?

It only takes a few more minutes for her to complete her own mask- she was much faster at applying it to her own face, Yuji noticed.

He also noticed that somehow, she made a face of lime green paste look good.  Which just wasn’t fair.

When Yuji tries to pinpoint when exactly these feelings for her began, his mind becomes a blurry haze of every moment he’s ever shared with her- and honestly, it could have sparked from any one of them.  It tricks him into thinking maybe he’d just… always had feelings for her.

It’s easy being around her, Yuji finds- even though sometimes she leans close enough to show him a video on her phone and it nearly sends him into cardiac arrest- there’s nothing but ease and relaxation in his muscles when she’s around him.  He doesn’t worry about saying the wrong thing- even if she giggles and shakes her head at some of his questions- he basks in her delight until it becomes his own.

Twenty minutes flies by when they’re laughing at memes or talking about the last week of training, and soon they’re scrubbing off the green mask that feels a little crustier than it had when they put it in.

Yuji groans into the bottom of the sink for the ump-teenth time as he scrubs viciously at a part of his jaw where the hardened cream refused to wash off.  (y/n) can’t help but stifle a laugh into the warm washcloth she’s using to pat her face dry, but she can’t leave him hanging, so she politely taps his shoulder to get the boy to give up on washing it off with his hands.

“Let me help” She offers, shoulders still shaking just slightly with her amusement.  

Yuji pouts with frustration when he stands up from the sink, water dripping down his face and all over his shirt, it really is a miracle he didn’t manage to clean up the last of the mask seeing as he got water everywhere in his attempts.

The pout melts away as soon as (y/n’s) stepping closer and gently wiping her washcloth against the resilient speck of green, making it look easy as it glides away under the soft cloth.  She gets it right away, but the tips of her fingers on her free hand still hover over his chin, ready to stabilize his head if he would’ve required another, rougher swipe of the cloth.

“Did ya get it?” Yuji asks hesitantly, unable to read the expression on her face.

But she’s smiling and stepping back in a moment’s notice.

“Yep!” There’s a short, tight sounding laugh that follows.  It’s not like her usual laughter, it sticks out like a sore thumb for someone as attentive as Yuji to pick up on, and he does, but he doesn’t say anything.  “Here, I have a dry washcloth for you” She’s quick to hand him the towel, and even quicker to stop him when he roughly drags the fabric over his face.

Yuji doesn’t catch half the things she’s saying when she snatches the pink cloth from his hands and tells him to sit his ass down before he destroys his pores.  He doesn’t think twice before jokingly asking her what pores are, which sends her on another lecture.  It’s hard to focus on what she’s explaining when she’s so delicately patting his face and neck dry of every last waterdrop.  He’s too busy fighting the urge to close his eyes and melt under the featherlight touch of her palm against his shoulder to give too much of a crap about pores.

Surprisingly, he’s never fallen asleep on the toilet before, but he thinks he could if he sat here and let her pamper him all night.

“... Yuji? Did you hear anything I just said?” 

It takes a few blinks for his vision to focus on her again- her brow is raised and her hands are on her hips now, she’d definitely caught him zoning out.  He hopes playing dumb does the trick.

“Of course,” He nods confidently.  “Pores swell when they’re wet and that’s bad” 

She giggles and rolls her eyes, so he knows his educated guess wasn’t as educated as he thought, but if he got her to laugh he’d take the slight tinge of embarrassment for the greater good of bringing her joy.

God, it was like every minute spent with her only left him craving more.

“Sure,” She drawls out the word in disbelief, but she doesn’t scold him for not paying attention.  It would prove to be too difficult when he’s looking at her with the brightest eyes she’s ever seen.  She would’ve believed he was hanging onto every word had he not opened his mouth.  “So, what next?” 

Yuji peeks at the remaining tubes and bottles on the counter.  He has no clue what he’s looking at of course, and this is obvious when his helpless expression turns back towards her.  To make it easier, (y/n) scoops up two smaller bottles, offering them both for him to choose from.

“Which is which?” He asks, hooking his finger under his chin as he studies each product with skeptical eyes.

“One is for your eyelashes, and the other is for your lips,” (y/n) explains, tilting each towards him as she does.  “We can do both, or neither, up to you” 

“Will it hurt if it gets in my eyes?” He asks, eyes noticeably widened, and she chuckles as she shakes her head.

“Not at all, it’s super easy,” She assures.  “I can show you, if you want?” 

Yuji nods, and that’s how he finds himself standing just a few inches away from her as she leans into the mirror with the small applicator brush in her fingers.  She could remind him that she’s using the mirror for a reason, and he didn’t need to stand so close… but honestly, he smelled nice, and she wasn’t uncomfortable with his close proximity.  In fact, it was actually sort of comforting.

“See?” She hums, brushing the applicator through her lashes over one eye a couple times to make sure all of the serum was evenly spread, before leaning back from the mirror and turning towards him.  “Super easy.  Like mascara” 

“I’ve never told anyone this… but…” Yuji lets out a heavy sigh, and her brows pinch together as she awaits his confession.  “... I’ve never worn mascara” 

“Yuji,” She whines with a roll of her eyes, letting out her own sigh, although hers was filled with humored frustration.  “Shut up,” She finishes weakly when he’s grinning at his own jest.  “Here, do you want to try?” 

“Alright” He takes the tube out of her hand and experimentally pulls the applicator out.  

His curiosity is almost adorable as he holds it close to study it, even though there’s not much to see.  It’s just a little blue bruh with a clear liquid coated over it.  This stuff really makes your lashes grow? He looks back to (y/n), studying her just as closely, until her face starts to turn rosy and she’s looking at him expectantly.  He supposes her eyelashes do look long and pretty… but didn’t they always look like that? Could this stuff really be so good it manages to make an angel like her look prettier?

She has to clear her throat to relieve the nervous tension settling over her the longer he stares at her like this.

“Uh- um, Yuji?” 

“Yeah?” His response seems genuine enough, and (y/n’s) eyes flicker between his and the eyelash serum.  “Oh!” And just as genuine as before, he realizes that her prompts are because he’s been standing and staring for too long.  “My bad,” He apologizes sheepishly, before scooting close to her, the brush extended towards the eye that she hadn’t applied the magic pretty serum to yet.

When she realizes what he’s about to do, her eyes widen and she finds herself grabbing his wrist to halt him on instinct.

“Wait, what are you-?” 

“I thought you wanted me to do the other one?” He answers her question before she could even finish asking it, and she blinks wildly at him.  Had she not been clear? “Do you not want me to?” Yuji asks, already lowering his hand.

“No, it’s- I don’t…” Her head is shaking as she tries to find a way to explain that she’d offered him the product for himself, but she’s backtracking rather quickly as she slowly loosens her hold before pulling her hand away altogether.  “You… you can, if you want” 

She tells him quietly.  It feels like a silly thing to ask him to do, especially when she’s just demonstrated how to use the product moments prior, but now that the offer was on the table, she also wasn’t interested in turning it down.

“Okay,” His smile softens as he tilts the brush towards her face again.  “I promise not to poke your eye out” 

With a giggle she has to focus to keep her gaze tilted up at the ceiling so he can follow through on his promise.  It’s more difficult than she’s ever thought before, keeping her eyes wide open and focused on anything but the boy in front of her.  Yuji takes great care in steadily swiping the brush up through her lashes, working slowly from the outside in.  With how long it takes him, her eye should be watering, but somehow it stays dry, and she doesn’t blink over the applicator.

“You do this every day?” Yuji mumbled, re-steadying the small brush in his fingers as he got closer to the inner part of her eye.  

(y/n) hardly manages a soft hum of affirmation.  She can feel his free hand ghosting under her jaw, as though to keep her in position, however her head is perfectly still and his hold is unnecessary.  Still, his palm waits there.  She’s never felt such a buzz of nervous energy from a lack of a touch.

Yuji finishes up with a smile before popping the brush back into the tube.  He looks like he wants to say something, so she finds herself waiting in silence while she blinks until her eyes feel normal again, but that winds them both up in a minute of no words being exchanged.

This time, it’s not uncomfortable.

“Your turn?” (y/n) offers softly, reaching for the serum in his hand.  Yuji nods, lets her take it, and blinks his eyes excessively to make sure he wouldn’t feel the need to while she was doing her thing.  “You should sit again” She prompts with a gentle push to his shoulder.  It was too awkward of a reach, and would be much easier if he lowered as much of his height as possible.

“Right” He mumbles, backing up to sit down on the toilet seat once more.  He does his best to keep his eyes focused upwards, and wide open, to make it as easy as possible for her.  But what he isn’t expecting is to feel her knees pressing against his as she gets closer, and on instinct he spreads his legs a little wider so she could easily slide into the space.  

He has to keep his grip on his own knees, pressing his fingers into the material of his pants to keep from reaching out to her.  The urge to hold onto her waist- the back of her thighs- pull her closer- is so strong that he gulps.

“Are you nervous having someone get this close to your eyes?” (y/n) mumbles, noticing the shift in his energy.  Yuji swallows again before speaking.

“No- no, it’s alright, go ahead” His voice is as gentle as it is sure, so (y/n) nods back at him, and makes sure the brush is coated with a decent amount of serum before she gets to work.

He knows he’s supposed to keep his gaze upwards, but with her standing so close, leaning in so close, it was hard to keep his eyes from shifting away from the boring tiled ceiling to the much more intriguing sight before him.

“Stay still,” (y/n) murmurs under her breath.  She’s so damn close to him he can feel her cool breath against his cheek.  He manages to follow the instruction for a few more seconds, but soon enough the tips of her fingers are pressed under his chin and she’s clicking her tongue in reprimand.

His own fingers flex against his knees, his grip tightening, much like the invisible force around his heart.

Yuji wishes he could close his eyes until it was over, but that would be counterproductive.  That said, (y/n) finishes one eye quicker than he had done for her, and she’s sliding a little to the right in order to do the other one.

“You think Sukuna would like a little special treatment, too?” She teases quietly, her thumb affectionately swiping over the marking under his eye.  Yuji barely gets to revel in the feeling before the mark is opening up and a vermillion eye is glaring up at her.

“Try it brat and you won’t have hands to do your silly little makeovers” 

She giggles at the threat.  Sukuna may have intimidated her in the past, but it’s hard to feel fear while doing some self care.  Yuji still rolls his eyes and smacks his hand against his own face as punishment.  Unfortunately it’s not only a punishment for the curse living inside of him, and he winces a bit from the harsh smack.

“I’ll take that as a no thank you” (y/n) hums as she finishes up with his other eye, smiling faintly at her work before stepping back.  Yuji gives her a sheepish smile, before batting his eyelashes theatrically.  It does the trick in getting her to laugh.

“Well he’s missing out,” He says, the implication behind the surface level of his words making him bashful, and he finds himself averting his gaze.  “I feel prettier already” 

It draws another laugh out of her, sharp and surprised, and she continues to giggle behind smiling, sealed lips as she carefully slides the lash serum back into it’s perfect spot in her organizer.

If she were braver, it would’ve been easy to tell him that he didn’t need any sort of serums or masks to be pretty.  But just the thought makes her face feel warm, and she has a feeling that even if she tried to say such a thing, she’d butcher the words with a stutter.

So instead, she uncaps the small set of tweezers in her organizer, and turns her focus to the bathroom mirror in order to get to work on her eyebrows.  Yuji watches curiously as she begins to pluck tiny, near invisible hairs off of her face, all without a twitch or flinch.

She’s so focused on working with her reflection that he’s able to stare at her as freely as he wants, and it only takes a minute or two for him to get lost in a sea of mushy thoughts that get his heartbeat going.  Before he knows it he’s practically melting.

“You still want me to do yours?” 

“Hm?” His eyes shift around a bit before they land on hers, already watching him, waiting for a proper answer.  

“Your eyebrows,” (y/n) clarifies, raising the tweezers and pinching them for emphasis.  “I’m done.  So, if you still wanted, I can do yours” 

“Oh, right, yeah,” He breaks into a smile that’s so characteristically him it’s hard not to smile back.  “Is it going to hurt?” 

“It really shouldn’t,” She chuckles, considering he’s gone through worse pain than a little tweezing would provide.  Losing a hand comes to mind, but she doesn’t voice it.  “But I can stop if it becomes too uncomfortable” 

Yuji nods in understanding, and straightens up his posture, ready to brave through whatever this eyebrow plucking would bring.  He squares his jaw, clenches his fists, and prepares himself for the worst.  (y/n) presses her lips together tightly to keep her laughter from spilling out, but the stifled giggle is still audible.

“C’mon, this is a bad angle for me to do this,” She beckons him to follow her out of the small bathroom, trying to ignore how cutely he wore the expression of confusion.

Maybe it was the forced proximity getting to her head, but it was starting to feel like the little crush she’d been harboring for her friend was becoming too much to bear.  She was a jujutsu sorcerer damnit, she shouldn’t be reduced to fits of blushing and giggling she was stronger than that, wasn’t she? 

“Alrighty” Yuji follows her into the larger space of her bedroom without a second thought.

Maybe it wasn’t a question of her strength, but his.  (y/n) wondered to herself what it was about the sheer delight that overcame her whenever he was around that seemed unavoidable.  Was it her feelings for him that made her insides feel weak, or was it simply Itadori Yuji himself that was so delightful she couldn’t help the way she felt and behaved?

Or maybe she was trying too hard to find a way to excuse the butterflies only he could release in her tummy.

She’s careful with the tweezers in her hand as she climbs onto her bed, sliding into the very middle of it before patting the space in front of her to invite Yuji to do the same.

Now, Yuji wasn’t some kind of private, conservative guy.  He’d been in beds other than his own.  Megumi’s and Nobara’s had been made available to him countless times.  Whether it was a study session or a movie night, he never felt uncomfortable when being allowed into someone else’s bed.  Hell, he often made himself right at home in their sheets.  He even got a smack on the head from Nobara once for getting too cuddly with one of her plushies! 

So why now did he feel some reluctance in following (y/n’s) silent command?

“You’re allowed in the bed, Yuji,” As if reading her thoughts, she provides some comfort with the offer.  There’s even a little smile on her face, as if she wanted to tease him for hesitating.  “Trust me, it’ll be way more comfortable to do this here than keeping you sat on the toilet” 

It seems to do the trick, because he sets his knee on the mattress as he crawls on, and sits criss-cross directly in front of her.  It’s the first time he’s been in her bed, he realizes, so maybe that would explain his nerves.

(y/n’s) got a skeptical look on her face, her eyes wandering over his face as she maneuvers around, trying to find the right way to bend her legs, until eventually she huffs and turns to grab one of her pillows from the headboard.

“Just lay down, I’ll do ‘em that way,” She decides, placing the pillow just in front of her criss-crossed legs.  She gives it a pat the same way she’d patted the bed, prompting him to rest his head.  “It’d be easier than destroying my posture” She explains.

Yuji nodded his head, and started to turn around so he could lay back, but his movements are agonizingly slow.  He’s still unsure about being in her space, it seems, but she’s not sure how else to make him feel comfortable.  So when he finally lays his head down on her pillow and looks up at her, awaiting further instruction, she smiles comfortingly.

“Alright, just relax your face, I’ll try not to take too long,”

Yuji shuts his eyes and lets out a small breath, trying to do his best to relax as she’d asked him.  But it’s hard when she leans in closer and the sweet smell of her shampoo invaded his nose.  The tip of her finger merely grazes over his left eyebrow, but the sensation is electric.  He has to fight the shiver that nearly shoots down his spine.

“And just tell me if it stings too much” She adds in a murmur, before he feels the first pluck of the tweezers.

“I think I can thug it out, (y/n),” He teases, once he’s actually felt the sensation of the plucking and realizes it’s not that bad at all.  “I’m tough, you know”

(y/n) giggles, quiet and sweet, as she continues on with her work.  She shapes the top of his brow with no complaint or lag.  He figures she must be pretty used to doing this, if she’s able to speed right through the process.

“Oh yeah,” She hums, cautious of her volume when her face is hovering right over his.  She’s appreciative that Yuji’s kept his eyes closed for this process, because she doesn’t think she could bear having him staring up at her when she’s this close.  “The toughest” She finishes in a whisper.

Yuji’s shoulders shake when he chuckles, and she pauses with the tweezer for a moment when his brows move along with his smile.

“Are you patronizing me?” He asks, peeking an eye open, only to be met with her free palm covering his eyes as she leans back in to continue working on his eyebrows.

“I would never,” She assures in the same tone, laughing quietly to herself when Yuji’s mouth drops into an offended gape.  “Now hush, you’re making it hard to focus” 

Her tone was playfully scolding, but it’s an empty threat.

“Am I that distracting?”

“Incredibly,” (y/n) huffs, and it’s meant to be teasing, but there’s just a little too much truth to her tone.  “You talk too much” She throws the excuse out there quickly, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the shift in her tone.

Yuji shrugs his shoulders, and with how close she is to him, she’s able to watch his lips curl into a cute smile.  She can’t help but mirror it, even if he can’t see.

“Can’t help it.  I like talkin’ to you” 

Now she’s certain that she’ll keep her hand over his eyes, because there’s no way she’s going to risk him seeing the way her face heats up with color.  If she put a thermometer in her mouth, it’d malfunction, she’s sure.

Yuji’s heart may have been going haywire, but there’s not an ounce of uncertainty in his words.  He means it, and she knows it.

There’s a pause, the both of them remaining silent while she freezes in her ministrations.  She squeezes the tweezers together a few times as she lets the comment really settle in her mind.

“I like talking to you too,” 

It really shouldn’t be a difficult thing to say.  For one, because it’s the truth.  And for a second thing, because there’s nothing strange about friends getting along with one another.  But for some reason, she holds her breath after she says it, and her heart is pounding in her ears.

“Today’s been a lot of fun, actually” It takes some effort to talk through the lump in her throat, but she feels the need to tell him anyway.

His smile turns into a grin, and (y/n) has to go back to working on his eyebrows in order to distract herself from it.

“It has,” Yuji agrees.  “It’s very relaxing.  I want to do this all the time now” 

“I’m not sure you’re ready for that,” (y/n) muses.  “You did try to eat the mask” She reminds.

“Guess I’ll just have to keep on getting your help then,” Yuji replies, his tone lighting with hope.  (y/n) scoffs to herself.  “What?” He asks innocently.  “I thought you liked pampering me?” 

“I thought I told you you were talking too much” She chides, moving onto the space between his brows.  Without thinking, she brought her other hand upwards so she could use her thumb to gently brush away the stray hairs from his face.

His eyes are on hers in a moment’s notice, his grin returning.

“I thought you liked talking to me” He said. She has half a mind to smack her hand over his face again- because as predicted, she’s rendered speechless when she’s leaning so close and he’s looking right at her.  But the larger problem now is that she’s completely frozen, staring back at him with wide eyes, like he’d just caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to be.

“I do,” She mumbles, barely conscious of her own voice.  She was too distracted, her eyes shifting between his brown ones.  “You have a little hazel in your eyes” Again, she finds herself speaking without caution, or much awareness at all.

His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles up at her, amused by her quiet commentary.  He longs to hear more, to tell her to keep talking, but he worries that he’ll ruin the atmosphere, and startle her into covering his face again.

“I always thought you had the prettiest eyes” He said it as quietly as he could.  As he thought she might, she did startle.  Her eyes go wide and her- now perfectly shaped- brows draw together in a slight knot.

A beat passes before she’s able to reply.

And even then, it's only a barely there, “...really?” 

“Yeah, really,” Yuji answers without missing another beat.  “Sometimes I look at ‘em too long and forget where I am” 

A surprised, breathless little laugh escapes her.  If she wasn’t a blushing wreck before, she certainly was now.  She tries to continue tweezing away at his eyebrows… but it seems like his eyes insist on holding contact with hers, and she can’t exactly pluck eyebrows without looking.

And again, she’s reduced to a mumbled, “R-really?” 

“Mhm” Yuji hums, his point proven as he gets lost staring up at her.  He looks like he has something more to say, but soon enough his eyes are glazed over and he’s got a dopey smile on his face.

That smile is quickly reflected back at him as her insides start to melt to a point of no return.

“I didn’t… uh- I- I didn’t know that” She stammered, and normally she’d feel embarrassed for stuttering over her words too much, but with the bigger picture forming, stuttering was at the bottom of her list for reasons why she was growing bashful.

“Mhm,” Yuji hums again, this one a little more dazed than the last.  He blinks a few times to cure his tunnel vision.  “Sometimes I had to bite my tongue so I wouldn’t tell you that” 

She chuckles, similarly biting down on her bottom lip until she found her voice again.

“Why wouldn’t you want to tell me that?” She asks softly, brows pinching again with curiosity.

“Well, uh, y’know…” Yuji trails off, barely shrugging his shoulders.  “Didn’t want to say something weird and mess up our friendship” 

At this point, her curiosity was getting the best of her, so with a tilt of her head and a bolder disposition, she gave him a knowing smile.

“So why say something now?” 

“Couldn’t help it” He replies right away, and (y/n) has to purse her lips from grinning too much.

Her eyes flicker away from his, only to glance up at his lips.  She’s looking at him upside down, so for a brief moment Yuji thinks she’s staring at his chin, and he wonders if some of that green mask is still stuck there.  But then he catches the way her lips part and it dawns on him- oh.

It happens all at once and agonizingly slow.  She leans further over him, bringing her face down closer to his.  One of her hands firmly clutches the small set of tweezers, while the other relaxes, fingertips gently brushing over his cheekbone, thumb resting against his temple.  Yuji can’t decide whether he wants to watch it happen with wide eyes, or close them and give into the moment.  They end up falling shut on their own accord as soon as her lips brush over his- before she’s even actually kissed him.

She hovers there for a brief moment, her lips ghosting his, the tip of her nose grazing his chin, and her mind running wild.  Should she have asked him if this was okay first? Was she making this huge leap of faith over one compliment? Sure, it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her but if she kissed him right now, like this, would she come to regret it-? 

Her thoughts are calmed when Yuji tilts his head back, bringing his lips to meet hers in a kiss that pushes every last doubt out of her mind, until it’s gone blank.  Every thought that doesn’t surround him is completely lost.

Needless to say there’s no second thought when she kisses him back.  Her fingers press softly into the skin of his cheek as though to keep him still- just as she had before when applying the eyelash serum.  Yuji never could have imagined his silly daydreams from that moment would play out in reality just twenty minutes later.

When they part, and Yuji drops his head properly back into her pillow, (y/n) doesn’t go far.  With her eyes still shut and her touch unmoving, she leans down one more time to steal another, quicker kiss, before she finally sits up and glances down at him again.

He’s already looking at her, his lips stretching so wide that his grin nearly split his face.  It was a grin she was familiar with, but it still made her light up with a shared joy.

She giggles at him, before steadying her tweezers in her fingers and going right back to the previous task at hand.

“Couldn’t help it” She mumbles his words back to him, and Yuji laughs as he shuts his eyes, relaxing once more as she evened out his eyebrows.

He reaches his hand back, gently laying it against her bent knee and giving it an affectionate squeeze.  He didn’t say anything, and neither did she, but they didn’t have to.  Not until they finished their night of pampering and made plans for a proper date later in the week.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[marvelobsessed134]

When the sun goes down and the moon comes up

Werewolf!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!BunnyHybrid!Reader

Warnings: smut, chasing, size kink, Natasha has a dick (a large werewolf cock so that’s where the size kink comes in), dubcon, sub!reader, top!natasha, rough sex, squirting and I think that’s it let me know if I missed anything

You knew it was dangerous to go out on a full moon in October, but you had forgotten to pick some berries for your pie for tomorrow’s desert. So, you held onto your basket and walked out to your little garden which wasn’t too far from your house.

As you were picking berries and putting them into your basket one by one (you’re very particular about picking berries) you heard the crunch of a twig behind you.

You quickly turned, your ears perking up, twitching your nose as you tried to find what made the noise. To no avail, there was absolute nothing. Just silence and darkness minus the light illuminated from the moon above. So, you shrugged your shoulders and turned back to your berry bushes.

Suddenly, you felt a large presence behind you, and a shadow looming over you. You quickly turned to find a werewolf woman, who was a lot larger than you were. Your eyes raked over her quickly and noticed her large dripping cock that totally didn’t turn you on. But you knew, she’d kill you. Her species is a predatory one, that only comes out on a full moon in October.

So, you dropped your basket and ran. Of course, she pounced after you, through the woods and over logs. You tried your very best to use the bunny quickness inside of you but it was no help. Because by now she’s already caught you.

She pinned you down to the ground, looming over you with a toothy expression, and hunger. Ah, yes, hunger.

“I’ve been watching your little cotton tail for quite some time, and now I’m so glad I have you.” The werewolf smirked devilishly.

“Please don’t hurt me…” you pleaded.

“Don’t worry, bunny. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to feel you…” her tone sent a shiver down your spine as she quite literally tore off your dress, revealing your naked body. You were already dripping wet when she ran a finger through your folds with a growl.

The creature forcefully flipped you over and making you stick your ass in the air before she plunged into you, stretching you out like you’ve never been stretched before.

“Oh god!” You cried out as she thrusted into you, gripping your hips for leverage. She didn’t let up and showed no mercy when she repeatedly hit your g spot.

“So tight…bunny….squeezing me so fucking good.”

“Mmm I’m gonna cum!” You cried out. The werewolf sped up her movements until you were clenching around her cock, squirting around it making you scream out into the dark woods. Most people would think you were in danger but you both knew that wasn’t the case at all. She released her seed deep inside your womb and was decent enough to carry you back home.

The next morning you were picking up the berries you couldn’t get last night when a pretty red haired woman walked up to you,

“Hello, I’m Natasha.”

[hellfirecvnt]

Don't Piss me Off (Pt. 2)

John Q. (Simon) X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, oral (female receiving), "public" sex, unprotected sex (don't do that), poor life choices.

Summary: You still can't stand sticking around your parents for too long, but you stay in town for a while longer just to see him play. PART ONE IS HERE!!

Notes: I love him. I'm gonna write a million versions of the same story I stg. I didn't proof read. I got like 6 ideas at once and they're all getting written at the same time.

In the basement of a warehouse you'd assume abandoned, Simon and his band consisting of a handful of less ill-tempered, but just as dirty and dead-looking men set up for their performance. They're all spitting insults at each other as they scramble to plug in each meticulous piece of shoddy equipment they've acquired.

Simon's preoccupied. Clearly stuck on the thought of you. He realized hours ago that he never told you about the show tonight. He's wrapping the wire of the mic around his fist when he overhears the stagehands. "I didn't make it to Y/N's last party, I figured there would at least be one more before she bolted."

"She went back home?" Simon interrupts.

"Yeah, man. She left today, I'm pretty sure." The stagehands hoist a large amp to its spot, leaving Simon in the silence of realizing you two have no way of contacting each other. That's it. He shrugs his shoulders, brushing off any disappointment, as he's used to things falling through. Nothing's special to someone like him, or that's what he tells himself. He reaches into his back pocket and reveals a pair of underwear that had gotten tangled with his clothes when you did his laundry. He chuckles at the thought of how he would've made you think he stole them on purpose. He stuffs them back into his pocket and gets ready to perform as people start piling in the small venue.

You're nearly flooring it back to that gas station. Once inside, you leap over the counter and snatch the poster from the wall. "God damn! You could've just asked for the fucking flyer, man!" The cashier exclaims, certain you were attempting to rob the store.

"I don't have time!" You yell behind you as you sprint out the door. "Old fuckin' Mill building? Where the fuck is that?" You mumble to yourself, frustrated. You read that Psyops isn't set to play for another 30 minutes, so you speed around town to every old and decrepit site you can find. Four failures before you find the warehouse hosting the show tonight. "Finally!" You slam the van in park before bolting to the door.

"It's $10 to get in," a nonchalant man at the door huffs. You shove the money into his hand and he opens the large, black, graffitied door behind him. You're not shy in a crowd, so when you hear the boisterous speakers blasting the sound of guitar riffs through the building, you start shoving. The vibration sends the decently sized crowd into a wave of cheers and you finally make your way toward the front. You can hear a voice over the speakers, Simon. It's hard to make out what he's saying, but once the song starts, the crowd starts moving.

You're being jostled around for most of the set. Song after song, you try to force yourself to the front, but to no avail. Finally, once Simon takes one step off the slightly raised platform on which they're performing, you can reach him. His grip is white-knuckled around the microphone, now's your chance. You lunge forward and wrap a hand around the mic, pulling yourself forward. Confused and annoyed by the sudden tugging, Simon pulls back, effectively breaking through the wall of people blocking you. The moment your eyes meet his, under his ski mask, he grins. In the moment bringing you before him, he'd missed a few bars of the song, but effortlessly picks back up once you're front and center.

It feels like his eyes are locked on you for the rest of their set. You hate to admit it, but it's a hell of a show. The energy of the crowd, their presence on stage. No wonder Simon feels so strongly about it. He's a different person when he's John Q. An alias you found out about when you were seniors, and you hoped staying quiet about it would've shown him you weren't the snitch, but instead it took a coke bender several, several years later. Plus, he wasn't much less of a loser than you were. Who fucking cared back then that he has a stage name?

After Psyops' set, you and Simon slip outside for a smoke. Riled up from the show, he's too abuzz to make sure his face matches the angry stare he usually wears. "Someone said you were headed home already, didn't think I'd see you at a show any time soon," he says, lighting a cigarette.

"Said I would," you echo his words from his promise to back you up next time you got yourself into an altercation. "Can't let fucking John Q. be more trustworthy than me." Simon laughs at the mention of his stage persona. "I like the mask, though."

"Oh, yeah? That do somethin' for you?" He teases, reaching into his pocket for the mask, but pulling out a different wad of fabric. "Oops," he laughs, dangling your panties in front of you.

"Is that my fuckin' underwear, you god damn pervert?" You curl your lip, put off by the invasive behavior.

"They might be yours, I don't know. I get a lot pussy." Simon smirks with his eyes darkened on you.

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck-" you're ready to lay into him, too violated to make any excuses despite how attractive he looks with messy hair and drying sweat.

"Calm the fuck down, they got mixed up with my shit when you washed my clothes at your house," he laughs. You roll your eyes and jump to grab them, but he's too quick. You miss the swipe and are now a great deal closer to him. "I'm gonna hold on to these," he says with a low voice as he scoops you against him with a hand placed on the small of your back. A second passes like an eternity and the two of you lock lips as he stuffs your underwear into his pocket again, allowing some of the silk and lace detail to hang out. As the kiss deepens, his hands move down your body, to your thighs before he grips your ass roughly. Soft moans escape against his lips as he gropes various parts of your curves.

"Do you know how worked up you get me?" He whispers between the press of your kiss. "Thought you left before I could get a taste." He reaches for your eyelet belt, but you stop him.

"Someone's gonna see us."

"Call it an encore," he mumbles before going back at your belt, but you swat him away again.

"At least take me around back, dumbass." You grab a fistful of his shirt and nearly drag him around the corner. It's dark and concealed from any passerby. He lifts you up onto a pad-mounted transformer and wraps your legs around him, still moving his head in sync with yours as each of your tongues explore each other's mouths.

"I guess I was kind of a prick to you back in the day, huh?" He whispers, running his hand through your hair.

"You were an angry piece of shit, yeah. We fuckin' or having a breakthrough?"

"Shut the fuck up for a second," he snaps. "I'm trying to apologize." He slips your denim shorts off your legs and all but falls to his knees in front of the large metal, green box you're sat on. His nimble index finger hooks around your thong and pulls it to the side. You barely have time to process what his "apology" will be before he plunges his head between your thighs. You fight to stifle a surprised moan as he conducts his skillful movements against your sensitive skin.

"Simon, oh, my God!" You whine, arching your back against the friction. He laughs against your skin sending waves of vibrations through your legs. One of his hands is occupied holding your panties to the side, the other is hooked around your hip, holding you securely in place as he meticulously works you over the edge.

"You want me to stop?" He asks, lips framed with drenched facial hair.

"No! No, I-" he cuts off your plea, resuming his position.

"Then stop fighting me," he snaps, harshly pinning you to the metal with the hand he had hooked on your hip. The stimulation quickly builds up, becoming too much, too quickly. You throw your head back and tangle a fist in his hair as he guides you through the high. Your legs shake and threaten to close around him, but his grip is too strong. You remain exactly where he wants you until you've ridden out your orgasm. You're slumped back on your elbows with your head down, breathing heavily as you return to reality.

Simon towers over you where you lay, staring down at you with his dark-circled eyes. You look up and watch him teasingly wipe his mouth, licking his lips like you're the first thing he's devoured in months. He slips your shorts halfway up your legs for you, leaving the rest of the work for whenever you can feel your legs again. "Um," you sigh. "Apology accepted."

"Tits."

"Is 'tits' good?" You furrow your eyebrows. He sighs, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

"You're leaving tonight, huh?" Simon lights a cigarette.

"Well... That's the plan." You feel a pit in your stomach when you think about going back home. The place is nice, it's far away. It's what you wanted, but life is full and meaningless. You don't have friends out there, it didn't strike you how hard it'd be to meet people in your mid 20s.

"You don't sound so sure about that plan, Y/N." He exhales a cloud that illuminates under the street lamp's orange glow.

"It's boring out there, but it's quiet. It's peaceful. My parents aren't in my ear telling me trying something new could kill me." You shrug.

"That's why you're running? Because of your frigid bitch mom and dad?" Simon laughs as if it's the funniest thing he's ever heard.

"Okay, well. You know, maybe don't call them that or I'll lay you the fuck out, but yeah." You stand and fasten your shorts and belt, knees still threatening to buckle. "You had a hand in me leaving too."

"I know, I apologized!" He gestures to your trembling legs and you laugh.

"Yeah, yeah," you wave your hand at him. "Where'd you go? I was in town for weeks. I thought you were in the pin."

"I didn't want to overstay my welcome," he chuckles. "Or watch another fuckin' 80s movie with the volume on ten." He turns to look at you and he smirks.

"Well, my parents are in town now. I still have the rest of this week off. I was gonna spend it getting unpacked, but-"

"Fuck that. Let's go, you're driving." He walks off around the building toward the parking lot and you're dumbfounded for a moment.

"Of course I'm driving, it's my van!" You scramble after him. He hops in your passenger seat and you pull out of the lot, leaving his disgruntled band mates to pack up their own equipment. "You're not gonna help them?"

"What for? My shit's in the van. It's a microphone."

"Yeesh, sorry. Forgot you're actually kind of the worst when your head's not between my legs," you tease and Simon can't suppress a smile. As you cruise down the dark road, bright blue lights ignite in your mirrors. "Fuck. Get it the back." Simon wastes no time, he throws himself in the spacious rear area of the van as you pull over. You both wait anxiously for the cop to approach the window. Everything feels silent, until you finally hear the footsteps.

"I'm gonna run," Simon whispers, hand on the rear door latch.

"Don't." You demand sharply, rolling down your window for the cop. The air feels still and tight. It seems like it takes hours for the cop to speak, but when he does it's a routine traffic stop. He asks you if you knew how fast you were going and you innocently explain the floating nature of your speedometer. The officer laughs when he reads your ID and sees your last name.

"You're Frank's kid, right?"

"Yeah, his one and only." You beam, proudly. Happy to name drop your wealthy family.

"You just try to slow it down and tell your dad I said hello, alright?" The cop taps your door twice and sends you on your way. As you pull off, Simon peeks out from under the blankets and sighs with relief.

"Holy shit, with the way this thing looks, you should've been strip searched." Simon tosses himself back into the passenger seat.

"Don't shit-talk my van," you hiss. Simon proceeds to tell you where to go, each turn and shortcut, until you reach a large white house, almost as status defining as your parents'.

"My parents are out of town." He points to a concealed area to park and leads you to a basement door. He fights with a key for a moment before leading you inside. It's a messy basement room with red walls and posters from ceiling to floor. Instruments take up most of the space, aside from the bed.

"Do you avoid your parents like me, or do your parents avoid you?" You ask, bluntly, not considering the weight of that question.

"Both, I guess." He says after a long pause.

"You... Wanna smoke?" You ask, unsure how to navigate the silence.

"Can't. Fucks with my motivation," he grins. You shrug, rolling and smoking a joint by yourself while Simon works on some songs. He's got an ear for every instrument in his room, and he layers them over each other, creating complex instrumentals. It's nice to listen to while you lie on his bed and watch the swirling tendrils of smoke twist into the light and air above you.

"It sounds nice," you hum, settling into the cozy divot in the center of his mattress-on-the-floor.

"Write something for it," he commands, tossing a notepad and pen at you.

"Like lyrics? Why?" You stare at the blank page, unable to read the layers and layers of writing indented into it from Simon's heavy, angry hand.

"You need an out, I'm giving you one." He leans back in the rolling chair he resides in, staring me down like a hawk.

"I don't think I'm a very musical person. I think I'm more of a doodler, really," you argue, scribbling in the corner of the paper.

"Just fuckin' write something down and stop being a pussy." He snatches the pen from you and tosses it onto the pad.

"Bitch- How does that make me a pussy?" Your eyes narrow at him.

"It'd be too vulnerable. You're no tougher than that kid you were in high school. It's all fake now." It's clear he's taunting you. Making a fair attempt at reverse psychology.

"Fuck you, give me a minute," you huff, writing a line or two to start with. "Play your shit again." And he does. Restarting the instrumental he put together just for you. After a while, you've written something and you sling the notepad at Simon. He takes a moment to read through it a few times, almost trying to decode the melody of how I'd sang it in my head.

"Perfect. Now sing it." He nods toward his microphone stand.

"Fuck's sake, dude. Are you serious?" You whine, pushed further and further out of your comfort zone.

"Come on, let's see what you got," he says in a tone that lets me know I've already lost the argument.

"It doesn't feel good to be vulnerable to you."

"Tough it out." You roll your eyes at his demand, but you do it. You tough it out and recite your song over the music he provided. He hits 'restart,' and then 'record,' and then he points to you. After a measure you begin to sing. Low effort, but still angelic. Your song is about the feeling of being homesick no matter where you end up. It's about running and putting up a face as a defense mechanism. It's about wearing a mask.

When you're done singing and the music fades out, Simon slides the headphones off his ears. "That... Was tits." He looks elated. Like a poor painter with a new pallet.

"Is 'tits' good?" You ask again, emphasizing the lack of answer last time you asked.

"Yeah, 'tits' is good." He grins. "That was good."

"Fuck you. Who's not vulnerable?" You curl your lip, clearly more moved by the challenge than the release he was offering. Simon just shakes his head.

"Let's mix it." He beelines for the computer and begins fine tuning the song. You're watching in awe of his quick skill at this craft. As if watching him play all those instruments wasn't impressive enough. The night grows older. Simon offers you your favorite party favor, but you're over it. So the two of you share a joint.

"You don't ever get tired of living in a circle?" You ask through a cloud of smoke.

"A fuckin' circle?" He looks at you.

"Just, still in this town, still avoiding your parents, still making music alone in your room."

"Fuck," he huffs, offended but acknowledging the truth in your words. "Do you ever get tired of running from it?"

"Touché." You bring the joint to your lips as you lie in his disheveled bed. His arm snaked around you ages ago, slowly pulling you closer and closer to him. Like he's worried you'll float away.

"If our only two options are run away or get sucked into this shit hole of a town, I think we're a little fucked, don't you?" He chuckles to himself.

"Maybe those aren't the only options. We just don't have all the answers yet. I don't think anyone does." Your voice is wistful and quiet. You can feel Simon's eyes on you, but you stare at his dark ceiling. He rolls his eyes at your corny words, but he knows you're right. "It's funny, because if I could run from the uncertainty too, I would." You giggle, aware of your vices and poor coping skills.

"Yeah, you would," Simon mocks.

"And you? You're just going to live with it? Sit right beside the discomfort and accept that for yourself? Have you ever tried to give yourself more, even if it meant running?" You're slowly building up a sense of passion behind your words and Simon just listens, staring deeply into your eyes as you speak. Suddenly, you're cut off when he wraps a hand around the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. His lips crash into yours and the two of you melt into each other.

You can't even remember what you were saying, you just know you don't want to stop touching him. The heat of the kiss begins to swell as Simon's hands trail up and down your body. He's grabbing at you in a specific order, like he's been waiting to get his hands on it. Really get his hands on it. You grasp at the hem of his shirt, tugging in semblance to take it the fuck off, and he does.

His broad, pale chest rises and falls with anticipation as you strip off the same article of clothing. "Jesus Christ," he moans, pulling you to him to shove his face directly between your breasts. He breathes deeply, taking you in. With one swift motion, he's hoisted you on top of him, your legs straddling his waist. Simon unfastens the button on your jeans before tossing you to the side to undress you.

You're both naked and greatly anticipating the next moment your skin will touch. Seconds feel like hours until you're pressed against each other again. Simon buries his face in the crook of your neck as he guides his throbbing erection to your entrance. You're squirming and arching beneath him, and he releases a breathy laugh as he watches you writhe. "You're aching for it," he groans.

"Fuck you," you hiss, pulling him closer to you by his shoulders. All he does is chuckle before slowly slipping inside you. You moan loudly as you adjust to his size. Something about a lanky, dead-eyed man. His pace is steady as he rocks his hips against yours, picking up speed as you gush around him. Soon his thrusts are hard and rough, and your loud, vulgar moans echo off his bedroom walls.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he huffs, pulling out of you and tossing you aside. Simon quickly repositions you in front of him, on all fours. You let your back arch naturally, putting on a bit of a show for him as he watches you. His eyes are darkened and his smirk sends chills down your spine. You can't help but smile wide in excitement. With two round hands, he grabs your waist and positions you at the perfect height. His hands wander the soft flesh of your ass as you press up against him. "You drive me fucking crazy..." He sighs as he slips inside you.

Simon digs the tips of his fingers into your skin, pulling you against him with every violent thrust. You do everything you can to contort your body to give him more of you. He throws his head back, falling into a sloppy, unsteady pace. His breathing is wild and primal all the way up until the point of climax. You release a loud, fluttering moan as he fucks you through your high, quickly withdrawing to finish on your back and ass. You're both breathless for a while, the room is silent but for the sound of your lungs filling and deflating.

Simon climbs off the bed, but you're too fucked out to even raise your head up to watch where he's going. Moments later, he returns, towel in hand. He cleans you up and lands a hard smack on your right ass cheek. The sound is thunderous against the silence. You yelp and break into quiet chuckles.

Finally, you have the strength to roll over. You sit up against the mess of pillows that became a sort of headboard for his bed, feeling beautiful and bare before him. It's a nice feeling that you're not used to. Sure you've had your flings, but it's never occurred to you how quickly you tend to leave or cover up after. Not this time. You're both fully exposed and Simon's eyes drink you in, one last time before he speaks. "Don't go back." You stare at him for a long while, silent.

"I won't," you gasp, surprised by your own promise. As soon as the words leave your mouth, his lips are on yours. In the next few days, you quit your job and Simon rides with you to go back and get the most important of your shit. The rest goes with the trailer when you sell it. You don't run a single thing past your parents and you don't tell them you're coming back to town. It's a new sense of peace and adventure, though it feels like abandoning your old life.

After a month of van living, you and Simon get an apartment and constantly receive complaints about the noise, but nothing stops the music overflowing from your floor of the building. A new sense of bliss. It's comfortable now.

[mionemymind]

Lost in the Universe (Part 1)

Summary: Y/n is transported to a different universe and by chance, meets the Wanda that inhabits it.

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, Slight Angst?

A/n: I know I haven't written in a while. But recently I've been on a surge to start writing again. I hope you all enjoy and please tell me honestly how you feel about it. Hopefully, I'm not too rusty.

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Part 2

Y/n dropped into a new universe, barely landing on her feet. She scrambled to find balance as the portal above her closed. “What the fuck?” Y/n wiped off her hands as she looked around the unfamiliar area. 

“Are you lost dekta?” Y/n spun around at the sound of her voice. A smile plastered on Y/n’s face when she saw Wanda. She took a couple of steps when she felt something was different with the girl in front of her. “Wanda?”

The brunette chuckled at the obvious confusion. “It’s me dekta.” Y/n still grew apprehensive. She looked around the location she was in. They were on a simple farm surrounded by acres of grape trees. There was a barn and home in the distance and sheep and cows grazed the plain. “I don’t think you’re my Wanda though,” Y/n said as kindly as possible. It was scary to be in a new world without a clue as to how they operate. Even though Y/n knew that the woman in front of her wasn’t exactly her Wanda, it still gave her some type of peace knowing there was a version of her here. 

“And you’re not my Y/n.” Y/n’s nerves eased with the comment as Wanda broke the distance between them. “So let’s get you back to my home and figure out how this happened.” 

“Make yourself at home.” Wanda took off her dirty boots at the front and walked to the kitchen. She took the kettle out from the drawer and filled it with water. “I’ll make you some hot chocolate. Is that your favorite in your world?”

“It is!” Y/n yelled from the front of the house. She took off her shoes and jacket, hoping to not get the house dirty. The entrance of the house led them into a decent-sized living room filled with various decorations and plants. 

Y/n didn’t mean to snoop but she couldn’t help but look at all the photos framed on the wall and tables. The first photo that caught her eye was a picture of young Wanda and Pietro back in what Y/n could guess was their hometown. She picked it up and analyzed it in detail.

“I miss him,” Y/n whispered to herself. Wanda noticed this as she walked in with two cups of hot chocolate. “We were only five in that photo. I think we went to the zoo that day. Probably one of our better pictures when we were younger. Everything else is either him or me or the both of us crying.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Wanda nodded for approval, “is your Pietro still alive?” Wanda could sense this was a sensitive subject and gave Y/n one of the cups while directing her to the couch. 

“Yes, my Pietro is still alive. Currently, he’s away on work.” Y/n gave a small smile, the feeling of missing Pietro grew inside. “I’m happy to hear that.” Y/n took a small sip of her hot chocolate, making sure not to spill the hot drink on herself. 

“So your Y/n likes hot chocolate?” Wanda smiled in agreement. “Yes, my Y/n does like hot chocolate. She’s the only reason I have some. I’m just glad that part of her is with you as well. I hope it finds you comfort though because it must be scary to be in a completely different universe.”

“Well,” Y/n thought maybe lying would help ease her anxiety, but the presence of Wanda, even though it wasn’t necessarily her Wanda, made her want to tell the truth, “it is scary. I’m just hoping they find me. But you have been pretty calm for this whole ‘I managed to drop on your farm out of all the locations in this universe’ thing.” 

“Your humor appears to be the same no matter the universe,” Wanda playfully said. “But the reason I’m not freaking out is because in this universe, I’m aware of my other counterparts. Luckily enough, you dropped into a universe where I have my powers.” Wanda proceeded to show off her magic, covering Y/n in red swirls momentarily. 

“Are you able to drop me back home?” Wanda politely smiled, setting her cup down on the table nearby. “I’m sorry dekta. I unfortunately don’t have that type of power as of yet.” 

Y/n sighed in defeat, her anxiety coming back with worried thoughts. Wanda reached out and grabbed Y/n’s hand in a comforting manner. Even in different universes, Wanda Maximoff cared for Y/n Y/l/n. This was a simple fact that would not change. “However, your Wanda is currently on the hunt for you.” 

“She is?” Y/n placed her cup down, her hand still interlaced with Wanda’s. “The rules of the universe don’t allow any conversation to happen between each other but we can still feel each other. So when you dropped into my world, I could feel the slight imbalance. But, you just happen to be dating one of the most powerful people in the universe.” Y/n blushed at the compliment, already knowing that she was lucky to even date Wanda in the first place. 

“And the perk of dating powerful people is that we can feel other things in different universes. Right now, I can feel her dropping into other universes, trying her best to find you.”

“What if she can’t find me?” Y/n pouted. Wanda smiled even more. It was refreshing to see that their love expanded beyond her world. Wanda cupped Y/n’s cheek with her free hand, “This is something I will share only with you.” Listening intently, “You and your Wanda have a special connection. Think of it as a tether. Right now, she’s tugging on that tether hoping that if she continues to pull on it, it will lead back to you. No amount of magic, power, or science can cause this tether to break. It might be a little tangled with how many universes you might’ve accidentally gone through, but she will reach you in time.” 

“So believe me when I say this dekta, Wanda will always find you.” Wanda kissed Y/n’s forehead and proceeded to get up. “In the meantime, my Y/n is away on a mission. You’re free to stay here with me until all of this gets sorted out.”

Wanda walked back to the front of the house, putting her shoes back on. “Is there anything I can do to help out while I wait?”

“Wanna help me with the goats?” 

After a long day of work, Wanda and Y/n lay in the hammock near the campfire, admiring the stars that the night offered. “When I looked at your photos, I noticed none of them were of just you and I, how come?” 

Wanda blushed at the directness and was thankful that it was nighttime. “You see, my Y/n and I aren’t dating yet.” Y/n faced Wanda with a ridiculous look. “Are you serious? How come I haven’t confessed? If there’s a world where there’s a you and an I, then we must be together.”

“I’m not sure. We bought this farm together to get away from the city and have some peace time before they spring our next mission on us. Even then, she doesn’t seem to have the courage to confess.” Wanda sighed, her patience was running thin but she knew it was worth the wait. 

“Do you need me to get myself together?” Wanda laughed at the offer, clearly imagining two Y/n’s talking to each other. “I’ll probably be the one to have to confess first if she doesn’t do it soon.” 

“Just to be sure, does the Y/n here like you like that?” 

“Oh, I’m more than positive that my Y/n likes me back,” Wanda cockily states. 

“What makes you so certain? Back then, it took me forever to confirm that my Wanda even liked me.”

“Cause within our tethers, I can feel her. I’ve only ever felt her. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to tie me to her if she didn’t feel the same way.” There was more to the truth than Wanda could let on, because in every universe, Y/n and Wanda always fall in love with each other, no matter the circumstances, no matter the era, and no matter the time. 

“I didn’t know the universe could be kind like that.” 

They continued to star watch when a red portal in the sky opened up and out came two figures. One landed roughly as the other descended slowly onto the ground. Y/n and Wanda got up from their hammock and walked towards them. 

“Wanda?” Y/n yelled out in the distance, hoping it was them and not an alien invasion. “Y/n?!” Wanda came rushing into Y/n’s arm, feeling her worries slip away as she finally was with her again. “I thought I lost you,” Wanda stated with worry. Today had been a long day for her and America Chavez. Hopping from universe to universe was hard, especially with a young teen that has no clue how to control her powers. 

“You could never lose me,” Y/n stated confidently. Wanda pulled back from the hug and sealed a kiss, one that made both of their knees weak and minds numb with love. Pulling away slowly, pressing their foreheads against each other, Wanda said, “Let's go home dekta.” 

Y/n nodded in agreement and intertwined their hands. They walked back to the portal but not before Y/n waved goodbye to this universe’s Wanda. “I hope she confesses soon!” 

Wanda smiled back in return and waved. Telepathically, Wanda said, “Thank you for taking care of my Y/n.” 

“Anytime, Wanda.” 

Part 2

Taglist: @halobaby  @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog @sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @shadowybailiffdreamer-donkey @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @second-try-stevie @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me @ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha @itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @isitallreallyworthit @coxmicbabygirl  @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff @imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy​ @olsensnpm​ @psychadelichues​ @whitelotus00

A/n: I just used the same tag list from Fake Memories. If you didn't want to be tagged, I'm sorry.

[talekinesis]

Random Gravity Falls Headcanons

Stan

This guy smokes to help deal with the stress of everything. He picked up the habit after he was kicked out by his father and hasn't quit since. He used to be a chainsmoker but after getting to look after the kids for the summer, he drastically cut back and is actually thinking of quitting altogether because he wants to be around long enough to watch Mabel and Dipper grow up

Actually a pretty decent cook, it's just baking he sucks at. With cooking you can sort of eyeball the ingredients and add more or less depending on your own personal taste, but with how strict baking is with its ingredients, he never really picked it up. He's only baked a cake twice in his life, once for his mom when he was a kid, with the help of Ford, and once for the kids' birthday (it was lopsided and runny and they decided to just go out for pancakes instead)

He can play the guitar really well. He had to teach himself how to play when he was young and homeless, playing for tips. He still has his original guitar and occasionally, on a good day, will get it out and play it. He played it once for Mabel, who, for once in her life, actually sat still and listened

Part of his daily routine is kicking gnomes out of the trash because they keep trying to eat leftovers. He just bats them off with a broom like they're raccoons

He grew up a huge mama's boy since she was the only supportive parent he had. After he got kicked out of the house, he called her from a pay phone a couple times to ask to come back home and to wish her a happy birthday. To this day he still makes it a point to get a cupcake on her birthday since he can't celebrate it with her, and sometimes he'll tell the kids stories about her, like how she would have loved Mabel since Mabel has all these different unique sweaters, and his ma used to collect different, big, unique earrings

Stan coaches Mabel in boxing, and actually helped her discover a passion for it, he attends all of her matches. He even taught her a couple illegal moves that she can't use in the ring but can use in real self defense

Even in his early 60s, he still thinks it's funny to bother Ford as if they were still kids. He'll randomly snatch his glasses off his face (forgetting that he also wears glasses and Ford can retaliate), he'll just start copying Ford and repeat what he says, he once even dressed up as Ford, but it didn't last very long because Ford wears a much smaller size of pants, and Stan has a bit of a gut on him. He changed after about five or ten minutes.

He's a die-hard fan of Chappell Roan

He's actually the more responsible of the Stan-Twins. He breaks laws sure, but he always makes sure everyone is fed and safe. He's like this close 🤏 to putting Ford and Mabel on leashes when they go out because they have a tendency to run off

"I'd like to make an announcement to the store, I lost someone." "Oh, did your kid run off?" "My 60 year old brother, yeah. No he doesn't have a cellphone."

Has a biological kid out there somewhere but the mom cut him off. I just think the scene where he said, "Scary movies are great, the girl cuddles up next to ya... next thing you know you gotta raise a kid.. And your life falls apart.." sounded too much like he was speaking from experience and not as a hypothetical. He wants so badly to be a dad though and regrets not keeping contact. (let me know if I should make an oc for this :] )

Ford

He can't eat doritos or any triangle shaped chip because one time Bill hid inside a chip bag just to startle him

It took him a while to adjust to this dimension's laws of physics. He was frustrated for a while that he couldn't just leave his coffee floating in the air. He broke three mugs and one of them was Stan's.

Despises pickles as if he held a personal grudge against them. He hates them an irrational amount, and even gets irritated with Stan for just having them in the house. He acts like a child about it too, arms crossed and everything. "Here, Poindexter, you want me to take the pickles off your sandwich? Like a child?" "Don't bother, the meal's ruined >:( "

He gets sucked into those soap operas that Stan watches, and will sometimes watch from the doorway or over his shoulder. He won't admit it, but Stan knows.

He lights his face on fire because he saw someone else do it in a different dimension where that was normal

Unlike Stan, he's actually amazing at baking (he likes to follow precise measurements and instructions) But sucks at cooking. Caught a pot of water on fire.

When he first discovered the shape shifter, he kept it as a pet because he found it cute, but ended up letting it go when he found out it had a human-like sentience and could speak. But for a while he raised it the same way Mabel raises Waddles, putting it in little shirts, hats, and just absolutely adoring it

Used to play 'Dungeons, Dungeons, and more Dungeons' with a group in college as the DM, and it was the first time he actually had a friend group. The other players loved the way he set things up

Doesn't like alchohol. At least from this dimension, he got used to alternate dimension alchohols that tasted way better, so when he came back to Earth everything tasted way too strong and almost like dirt to him so he just quit

Used to know a little banjo since Fiddleford taught him but forgot it while in other dimensions

Used to babysit Tate on occasion and sucked at it

He also used to babysit Shermie and *also* sucked at it. He'd have to pass him off to Stan if he got fussy or started crying since only Stan and their mom could calm him down

• Used to play David Bowie in his lab and would occasionally lip sync or dance to it. Even when traveling dimensions, he'd introduce David Bowie music to the people, creatures, and beings he met, until he lost the cassette tape and was devastated

Mabel

Allergic to chocolate and makes up for it by eating way too much of other candies. She still tries to eat it though because "Maybe I'm not allergic anymore," but Dipper has to stop her. Stan even makes it a point not to keep chocolate in the Shack when they visit because he knows Mabel is a heathen with little self preservation. It's not epi-pen bad, but it will burn and itch her throat and get her coughing (Ford will use chocolate substitutes when baking for her and Dipper)

She likes to tell people that she and Dipper were originally two of three, and that she ate their triplet in the womb to become stronger. This is not true.

She wants to be a big sister really bad and sometimes that comes out onto Dipper despite him only being 5 minutes younger, much to his dismay and protest

She found a passion for boxing after Stan taught her how, and even asked her parents to let her start doing it as a sport, which she got really into. Coincidentally, after she picked up boxing, Gideon suddenly left her alone completely. Future Headcanon: She grows up to box professionally and one day even faces Grenda in the ring, but there's obviously a mutual respect between them. They agreed ahead of time that if they ever had to face each other, neither of them would hold back and it would be a fair match. Even after there's a winner, they meet up afterward and go out for dinner with Candy, who posts their matches to social media. Waddles is her mascot.

Mabel makes even more friends when she returns home from Gravity Falls because she takes Waddles for walks on a leash and it's a pretty good conversation starter

She is convinced that if she eats all the ingredients for a cake, she'll have successfully made a cake in her stomach. Once again, Dipper has to physically stop her from doing this. Ford does too, the first time he heard her say this (through a mouthful of flour) he went, "That certainly is an interesting theory, Mabel, but no-"

Dipper

Let's get it out of the way, I really like the 'Trans Dipper' headcanon. It just fits really well and I, as a trans person, can relate to him a lot

I think he knows how to dance a little because his mom taught him and used to take him to 'Mother-Son' events

He secretly keeps a tally of how many times Mabel rolls herself out of bed because it always wakes him up but he also kind of thinks it's funny because she just sleeps through it. Even if they don't share rooms back at home, he can always here the distance "thunk" of his sister hitting the floor. The tally isn't a sheet of paper, it's a small notebook with multiple pages filled in

He sometimes gets the courage to try and roughhouse with Stan, who is always on board but purposely takes it easy on the kid because he's like "baby bird" fragile

Dipper was the one to break the news to his Grandpa Shermie that Stanley was still alive and Stanford was actually missing for 30 years with Stan taking his place, almost giving the poor man a heart attack. (Shermie ended up booking a flight to Gravity Falls to yell at his brothers in person because that's not a conversation you can have over the phone)

Dipper was the one to introduce Stan to Chappell Roan by accident, but now they listen to her if they're in the car together

his DD&MD character is a female orc fighter named Yotula and he got very excited to info-dump about her to Ford (who was equally as excited to listen)

Has an odd addiction to chocolate milk. He makes a glass of chocolate milk at least once a day. Twice if it's been a rough day. He actually gets a little upset if he misses his daily cup of chocolate milk, its just routine. Stan one time made an offhand joke that since Mabel's allergic, Dipper has to consume twice as much for the both of them, but Mabel took that seriously and now to her its just the truth.

[puckinghischier]

hi!! first off, i just want to say that i really love your work. i’m so so glad i found your blog. i just reblogged this quinn blurb of yours (which i’m obsessed with btw)

i was wondering if you’d ever be up to expanding on any of the aspects of it. for example; quinn seeing a guy flirt with you in the stands while he’s playing.. when the game was over what do you think that looks like? would say something to his girl and/or show her more with actions than words? or when he sees how excited she is to see him when he’s ready to head home is he just going to let it go? <- y’know like her smile’s able to erase damn near any negative feelings he’s having. playing on when you said about his girl being able to turn him to mush 🥹

✶₊˚⊹ apologies for the length of this.. when i get excited about something i tend to ramble. also, feel free to ignore this or keep it for later if you’d want. no worries either way ‹𝟹

oh i would absolutely love to expand on that

i don’t think he would dwell on it too much, honestly. because he does trust you and he knows that when you come to his games you’re watching nothing but him, but i think he would be a lil smug about it and the fact you never give them attention like you do him.

his eyes would find you as soon as he walks out of the locker room, ready to take you home and order a post game dinner while watching whatever series the two of you get sucked into on netflix.

you’d be talking to conor, just chatting casually, always having been close with him since you started dating quinn.

too distracted to realize he’s walking towards you, he walks up and engulfs you in a hug from behind.

“Q!!” you’d squeal, laughing as conor takes that as his cue to leave, saying a short goodbye and offering a small wave.

turning around in his arms, you come face to face with your slightly damp and scruffy looking boyfriend, loving his post-shower appearance after every game.

“enjoy the game?” he asks, admiring the joy on your face that only he seems to bring out.

“duh! you scored twice, how could i not?”

quinn’s ego inflates three sizes, remembering what spurred the second goal.

“oh, speaking of, who was your new friend tonight? sure you don’t want me to just buy out the seats next to you every game?” he’d only half joke, not letting you know he has genuinely thought about it before.

you rolled your eyes at him, swatting his chest. “just some chad, brad, or whatever else people name their overly confident, dickish sons.”

your words cause alarm bells in quinn’s brain, his tone suddenly turning serious. “what do you mean by ‘dickish’? did he get handsy? say something to you? do i need to make a call to make sure he never steps foot in this arena again?”

“no! no, nothing like that. he was harmless, just thought he could impress the pretty girl next to him with all kinds of hockey talk,” you’re quick to explain, watching quinn’s jaw visibly relax. “most of which he had wrong, by the way,” you continue. “but then he asked if i was here alone, and i told him no, that my boyfriend was on the ice, but he didn’t believe me. especially not when i told him it was you, the captain of the team.”

it was quinn’s turn to roll his eyes. people never tend to believe you when you tell them he’s your boyfriend, considering you two have kept your relationship decently private. if anything, they shouldn’t believe you’re his girlfriend, still shocked at how he managed to snag someone so out of his league.

“then, after you scored he made some stupid comment about ‘aren’t you going to congratulate your boyfriend?’ as if i had a direct line to you on the ice or something,” you kept explaining to him, causing him to recall the sour look on your face when he was watching you from the bench.

he kept seeing the man turn to you and make comments, figuring he was trying to get you to engage with him. you ignored him, though, giving him side glances every few minutes with a look of annoyance.

“but, after you came over and did your ‘sweetheart’ celly, he finally shut up and left me alone,” you giggled, referencing the goal celebration quinn coined for you. he’ll skate over to the glass where you sit, pretending to lick all five of his fingers as if he’s cleaning ‘sugar’ off of them, then points to you and draws a heart in the air before skating away with a wink.

quinn smiles in triumph, happy that his plan worked.

after watching the scene you just explained play out, he knew he needed an excuse to show some big display of affection so your seat mate would get the hint. so, he turned the dial up to ten and was taking every shot he could.

he hopes the glare he gave the man as he skated away from you was partially to thank, too. even though the second he saw your excitement-filled cheering for him, the man beside of you was (mostly) forgotten.

“well, i hope he realizes you only go for guys who can score both on and off the ice,” he winks down at you, knowing his choice of words was corny, but they succeeded in coaxing out the sweet sound of your laughter that he wanted needed to hear.

he loves knowing that you only get this giggly and carefree with him; knowing that he’s the one that gets to take you home each night. the security he feels in your relationship is unlike anything he’s ever known, blown away at how fully and wholly you love him, always hearing you tell everyone who will listen to you when you think he’s not paying attention.

even if he does manage to get grumpy and annoyed when people flirt with you during games or when you’re out with the team, he knows you never even give them the time of day. every time he catches himself staring daggers at someone, all he finds when he looks at you is your pretty eyes already trained on him, making him forget about any ill feelings he has harbored in his chest, just like tonight.

“alright, captain jealousy, let’s get home so we can eat, i’m starving. i was thinking sushi and gilmore girls, what do you think?” you suggest, grabbing his hand and starting the familiar trek to the car garage.

quinn groans, hating how much you love the annoying mother daughter duo, mentally preparing himself for the hours of torture ahead of him, knowing he doesn’t stand a chance of changing your mind.

[wintersera]

g!p lesserafim and their friend (thoughts)

g!p le sserafim x f!reader non idol au

notes: wanted to make a g!p le sserafim au as well. it’s connected to the aespa one too :)) reader is le sserafims friend in this au

cw: SMUT, g!p idols, cockwarming, degredation, oral (giving), somnophilia, brat chaewon, choking? mentions of not breathing, exhibitionism, voyeurism?, shibari, use of toys (vibrator), overstimulation

word count 1.8k words

WOAH so now your aespa roommates’ friends have cocks as well?? is your college heaven or something?

kkura has a decently sized cock 6.5 inches, plus its really cute and pretty. a complete virgin loser PLUS she games making her more of a loser. usually is stuck in her room because of her coursework, and if she has the free time she’s playing her games, making you the one who initiated the first move. loves getting head from you but is too embarrassed to ask so she hints at it, sometimes you have to demand for her to use her words. not coming out of her room for hours and hours you grow worried about her, sliding yourself into her room you witness her sound asleep at her desk, BUT OHHH whats that you see? you decide to close some background tabs on her pc to lessen your guys’ electricity bill but ohhh is that porn on her screen??? looking back down to her hunched over figure you squint your eyes noticing her completely obvious boner 😭😭. an avid porn watcher tbh, she’s always stressed out with her coursework the only way of relieving her stress is through ejaculation. wanting to de-stress the eldest bc youre so kind :> subtly kneeling down and sucking her off while she’s asleep? PERFECT FOR HER. is so into somnophilia because she’s too busy all day so she doesn't have time for you during the day. start hopping on her dick at like 3am in the morning and she’s whining your name whilst she’s passed out asleep. doesn’t admit it, but loves when she wakes up to you on top of her seeing you straddling her. first time you ever tried out somno with her she was so shocked, waking up gasping at the sight of you bobbing your head under her desk. didn’t know what to do :(( so she starts squirming in her chair holding your hair asking you to stop, obviously she doesn’t want you to stop but she doesn’t want to say that out loud. loves cockwarming as well <33 sometimes she’s just too busy doing whatever and you’re just equally as horny as she is busy. sitting in her lap whilst she plays games??? whenever she gets mad, dies or loses in one of her games she instinctively moves around in her chair in a fit of rage, pushing her cock further into you accidentally. you’re not really complaining though it feels great for the both of you. highkey into shibari on her end. i think the sensation of being unable to do anything under your control kinda puts her mind at ease. so worked up about her college work it frees up her mind. loves using pink lace whenever you do decide to tie her up. use a vibrator on her tip while she’s tied up she cums extra hard at that <3

chaewon isn’t really that big either but she’s pretty girthy which makes up for it 🤭 everyone on here can agree that she’s a complete brat and they’re not wrong. will start arguments with you just so you can prove her wrong and top her in bed. is all smug when she’s initiating things but is complete mush when you start pumping her dick in your hands. gets so overwhelmed when you're wrapping your tongue around her length, drools maybe i think she’d feel so good to the point where she loses most of her motor skills. head pusher for sure will keep your head still so she can start fucking your mouth, not really giving a fuck if you can breath. will do anything and i mean ANYTHING to cum. ask her to get on her knees and beg for it? she’s already kneeling. will endure endless amounts of edging even if it makes her tear up, would literally start crying if she doesn’t cum in the next hour. loves being overstimulated and it makes her cum harddd. has so many good reactions as well, whining, screaming, shaking, ehem drooling she’s genuinely feeling every single drop of pleasure in her body her body is literally on fire. i feel like she’d be the type to record sex tapes as well posting videos of you bouncing on her dick on twitter (of course both of your faces are blurred imagine your college finding this out 😨) very big on exhibitionism, likes recording, or just having general sex outside of the dorm. tease her by rubbing her dick through her pants in public and she’ll be suggesting that you should fuck right here on the table😭 she knows she’s hot so she doesnt really gaf if someone sees you and her fucking outside, given that it turns her on more if someone catches you two in the act. is a self proclaimed switch, but you rarely see the dom side of her. only when she gets jealous or mad is when she starts pulling that scary dom chaewon demeanour out. degrades you when she’s mad <33 ugghh just imagining her calling you a ‘slut’ or a ‘whore’ whenever some person she’s jealous of hits on you. yes i know its not your fault that some random guy hit on you but she’s so jealous that she doesn’t know what to do. starts leaving hickeys literally everywhere after that, on your back, neck, shoulders, arms, thighs ykyk EVERYWHERE. after a while she’ll feel kinda bad about behaving like that and to make up for it she still fucks you good but she’s more caring about it telling you that she’s sorry while shes pounding into your cunt, kissing your forehead and everywhere else that she left her marks 😭.

yunjin my favourite american. knows you from aeri (aeri bragging abt how she’s ur roommate and not her lmaoo) oh definitely has a massive cock and is really cocky about it, pun not intended. really vulgar about it too like? always saying to you how you love her big dick (she’s not wrong) while you’re having sex. wearing grey sweats on purpose around the dorm to ,not so subtly, show you the outline of her dick. is such a loud moaner honestly she could wake up the entire dorm bc of how loud she is 😭 AND SHE HASSS. sometimes you would catch sakura knocking at the door telling her to stfu. high ass fucking libido, is fucking you everywhere she cannot wait to go home she’ll most likely drag you to the nearest empty bathroom stall or in an empty alleyway and will definitely ask you to give her head. or maybe you just came back after your classes and she’s dragging you to her bedroom just to pound into you. doesn’t care if any of her roommates are home, i mean if she’s hard she’s hard and she needs you badly calling you as soon as her classes are done or maybe even at 1am asking and begging for you to come over to the dorm. NOT only is her libido high but her stamina is quite literally terrifying, she could go on for hours and hours- night till day and day till night. obviously you ending really sore at the end of each session but you still go back to her anyways. has fucked with the door open before 😨 got really really horny one day and she forgot to close the door, dragging you inside already taking your clothes off. yes you did get caught by the others but it ended up with you going around the entire dorm that night… FUN. is open to many positions but her favourite is you sitting on her lap whilst you two are watching netflix or something. a GOD when it comes to hitting the right spots literally making you cum so easily its insane. her stroke game is too good always hitting your gspot seconds into the act. definitely has a curated sex playlist i’m not kidding, taking her shirt off and realising that she hasn’t put on her playlist so she’s frantically looking for both her speaker and her phone while her boobs are out lmaoo okay jennifer huh. i can just imagine her being silly like that, loudly saying “awh fuck wheres the speaker? y/n have you seen it anywhere?”. service top fr fr will never catch her bottoming… well maybe you will but that’s not often, on the rare occasion she bottoms she’s so smitten, staring into your eyes with adoration. the cutest smiles while you’re on her. really really clingy as well, she needs to hold onto you somewhere be it your arms, your legs, YOUR NECK etc etc :>

zuha my love so shy, so cute, but can be so dom out of thin air. i dont know who, but this one creator on here who made this omegaverse kazuha au went hammm and i agree wholeheartedly on their characterisation of her. she’s built, and works, like a machine. but anyways around a little smaller than yunjin but wowww her cocks pretty veiny. ERMMM A PERVERRTTT. sorry but the pervert kazuha agenda is plaguing my mind. i love the contrast of someone so calm being an utter pervert behind the scenes. steals some of your clothes whilst you're outside and jacks off to the lingering scent of youuuu <33 she hopes you catch her in the act but she also really doesn’t, she doesn't want you thinking she’s a massive perv 🤭. she’s really hot but she doesn’t know how it effects you badly, usually walking around the dorm with croptops (HER ABS?!?!?) and grey sweats when you’re hanging out in their dorm. can get really desperate, she wants to have your hands around her shaft so bad but she’s too embarrassed to ask for your help. kinda forces herself to go and ask you because she’s that needy for you to jack her off. saying that it’s not gonna be good unless it’s you. lets out the cutest mewls once you touch her dick, continuous whimpers being let out from her pretty lips. usually holds her moans back because she doesn’t want anyone to hear her moan out loud, you tell her not to but she’s still adamant on not letting any slip out. however as soon as you drop onto her dick she lets out a really loud guttural moan, wrapping her arms around you saying that your insides are so warm. doesn’t usually swear but does when she’s close, or actually, cumming. letting herself relax, letting out various of swears you would never think she’d say, ever- is really strong, she could treat you like a doll but she chooses not to :(( she’s just really caring like that. can pick you up and carry you when you’re actually having sex, pins you up against the wall and fucks you while you’re legs are wrapped around her waist. has been lost in pleasure many times before forgetting that you’re there, so in love with the way your pussy feels around her cock she’s in an aroused haze, thrusting hard into you when you’ve already came multiple times. clearly she’s pussy drunk on you. crazy stamina and agility as well?? doesn’t get tired at all even if she’s slamming into you roughly.

DAMN i need g!p brat chaewon asap

[onsunnyside]

🍓° 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, sweet soft!reader, she’s a little oblivious. size difference: 6’8!Ari, he’s a total beefy hunk. neighbours au, a little tumble, stripper!reader, brief mentions of mafia business, undeniable daddy energy.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It was a little ridiculous how in love you were… With a single glance, he could make you melt until you’re a pile strawberry ice cream, tied with a pretty ribbon, and sitting on his doorstep.

𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝗪/𝗖 | 2.45K

𝗔/𝗡 | just a little something I wrote inspired by Melting by Kali Uchis (also where the title is from). this is my first mafia fic but there isn’t much detail since this is a real itty bitty au. as always, all mistakes are my own. [all posts/asks]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Time seems to slow when he jogs by, clad in shorts and a loose tank top with sweat seeping through the grey. His tan skin is covered in a light sheen, making the dozens of tattoos appear darker. From your seat on the porch, they still look like black blobs and lines stretching from his broad shoulders to his hands. 

You’ve never seen them up close, but you have a few ideas of what they might be—a whole page in your diary to be exact. 

Your eyes fall to his muscled legs, firm and thick thighs strain his shorts and just the beginnings of dark ink poke from underneath the fabric. You barely notice the ice cream melting down the cone to your hands, too deep in a daze when tingles blossom from your chest to your toes. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as the wind flutters through his long brown hair, brushing along his bearded cheeks. 

He turns to you and flashes a bright smile before turning the corner and disappearing down the street. That single glance makes your heart pound ten times faster, and all of your thoughts tangle into one ball of ribbons, varying in colours, prints and lace, but so evidently you. 

If you could, you’d gift him that mess just so he could know how much he affected you without even trying. 

"Oh no!" You quickly wipe your hands from the melting strawberry ice cream but it's useless, the pink stains your white dress and drips down to the ribbon around your ankle. 

It’s almost too symbolic—the pretty pink bleeds all over your ivory clothes, ruining your life just like the fluttering trapped in your rib cage. 

Honestly, it would’ve been easier to hate him, but he was so damn big that you didn’t have any space left in your heart to hate him. 

To say you're in love would be an understatement. In every fantasy and daydream, he's the main focus, your co-star, your lover, your saviour draped in silk button-ups and silver rings. Oh, he's everything you've ever wanted! As if you manifested him when you were a young child and wrote about the perfect boy to sweep you off your feet and make your life a living fairytale—everything you scribbled in glittery pen has come true before your very eyes.

You don’t even mind that he and his biker friends rev their engines at three in the morning, but your roommate doesn’t agree, she’s never agreed. 

The front door slams shut and you stiffen, hurriedly flipping through a random page in a magazine and desperately trying to act like you were not staring at his house next door. 

"Did you do it?"

"Do what?" You ask, voice already on edge. Vibrant red hair comes into your peripherals, as well as a pair of angry green eyes. 

Natasha groans, setting down her bag on the kitchen counter. "You chickened out again? I need my sleep before I lose my mind. I can’t get any if he and his dumbass friends treat this street like a fucking race track!”

“They aren’t even that loud—and I bought you earplugs.” 

“I am not touching those things until those assholes learn how to be decent human beings!” She rolls up her sleeves and grabs your arm, yanking you from the barstool. 

"Wait! What are you doing!" 

Her heels stomp on the hardwood floor, nearly shaking the picture frames on the walls, “I messed up five drinks today, do you know how bad that looks when they’re my recipes?” She huffs, "he's out there right now mowing his lawn and you're gonna talk to him."

You grab onto the nearest thing which happened to be the couch and clutched it for dear life. “No—you do it!”

"He doesn’t listen to me!" She digs her fingers into your sides making you yelp and feebly swat her away, but you just screwed up big time. “Just try, baby, please! For me!”

That’s the last thing you hear as you stumble out the front door, tripping over the damn welcome mat and tumbling down the stairs. It’s only a few steps, but it stings when your back thumps onto the stone walkway, your poor elbows cushioning your fall.  

You barely catch the engine cutting and rushed footsteps before he appears. 

He stands over you with sweat brimming at his hairline, a deeply concerned expression etched onto his face, "awh shit, are you okay?" 

As always, the air goes thin and you’re under that dumb lovesick spell again. The sun glows around his head like a halo, melting you to the bone, and leaving a mess on the stone in the same shades as your love—strawberry ice-cream pink. 

It’s terrible that you don’t know how deluded your tender heart is.

"You're bleeding," he crouches low, gently examining your elbow, "did your roommate push you down the stairs?” 

"No! No, I-I fell.” Obviously! “But I'm okay." You utter, avoiding the peeping redhead through the curtains. Your gaze lands on his long fingers wrapped around your arm. He’s warm, warmer than you thought. Heat radiates off his body and envelops you like an old friend, familiar and calm. 

"Are you?" He inquires unconvinced, "here, let me clean you up." He leaves no room for protests as he helps you up and leads you to his porch. 

After you sit on the couch, he disappears inside the house before emerging with a large white case. He sits next to you and opens the kit on the table.

"That's a lot of stuff." You note, staring at the packed first aid kit. There are various rolls of gauze, different ointments, and bandages, far more things than your tiny plastic box under the sink. 

Judging by his shiny sports car, and his collection of perfectly tailored suits and watches, Ari lived a very different life than you and you’d do anything to know about it. Your naive heart aches for him so badly it almost hurts. 

“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Can I touch you, sweetheart?” 

You watch him tend to your injury with slow and careful movements, his dark brows knitted in concentration. You’ve never been this close to him, the sudden rush of blood almost makes you lightheaded, but his scent brings you back down. The woody cologne floods your nose, followed by a dash of vanilla with underlinings of musky spice.

“What happened to your other dress?” He glances up, eyes shaded under his thick lashes. 

“Oh… It got dirty.” 

He hums, “what a shame.” He delicately presses down the edges of the bandage. “That’s one of my favourites. It always makes my day to see you wearing it.” 

You swallow down a whimper and clench your thighs, seconds away from dropping to your weak knees. Embarrassment fills your chest, tinged with guilt, “I’m sorry, sir.” The words slip out before you could think.

He cracks a small smile, shaking his head, “it’s okay, just be more careful next time, yeah? Can’t have you ruining the little purple one too, that’s my second favourite.”

Dull thumps hammer inside your head, muffling his raspy voice. You nod silently, digging your sock-clad feet into the concrete. 

You take the chance to memorize his tattoos, from the intricate rose by his wrist following the thorn stems up his arm where they entwined with a heavily shaded skull. Thin script is scattered along his skin, you can’t make out the exact words but they’re in swooping cursive, clinging to his flesh like wet chiffon. 

His arms tighten as he cleans up, the muscles shifting under his paper-thin t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Every unconscious flex clouds your head, tunnelling your vision until he’s all you can see.  A small whine sounds from your throat and his eyes flicker to yours, blue as can be. 

“I don’t see you leave very often.” You were either inside or sitting on the front porch with a treat and a magazine, or in the backyard tending to that small garden. “Do you work?”

“I… I did, then I got fired.” The wound was still a little fresh. “But it wasn’t my fault, I swear!”

Ari perks up in interest, although he knows plenty about you, this was strikingly new. Aside from your basic profile, he knew about your past as well, including where you grew up, where your parents lived, and how long you’ve been in this city. 

It was only right to know about the two girls living next to his late grandmother’s house. Curtis insisted since Ari wouldn’t let him stay in the old two-storey home, but instead the house down the street.

He came here to be alone and mourn, but that was hard to do with a cute neighbour always staring at him. Yet he stopped caring after you left a small bouquet of hand-picked flowers on his doorstep and an adorable ‘welcome to the neighbourhood!’ note. 

He forgot how good it felt to be sought after, rather than feared and honoured like a living legend. You gave him that sliver of normalcy with your longing loved-up looks and quick dashes inside when he pulled into the driveway. To you, sweet-spirited you, he was an ordinary guy, not someone with a history coloured in hues of red and dripping all over his shoes, smearing the black ink of his future; an eternity tied to his family’s glory that’s now his. 

“This customer was being so mean and I know I should’ve stayed professional but I was havin’ such a bad day already.” Your bottom lip trembles, flashes of that terrible day flickering through your head, “first I slept through my alarm, then I missed the bus, and my make-up broke in my bag a-and everything was all ruined.”

He reaches out, rubbing your knee soothingly. Poor girl, if it was up to him, you’d never be mistreated. “Where did you work?”

“Venom Vixens.” You sniffle, hoping he isn’t the judgemental type, you’ve known too many people who would humiliate you for your chosen career. “I, uh, I wasn’t one of the girls on stage since I was still new but I liked it there. My coworkers were nice, I got free drinks, and…”

“And?”

“I felt,” you look down at your hands, they were so much smaller than his, “I felt pretty. People go there to look and flirt, and I didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it.” 

Ari wouldn’t mind giving you all of that instead. 

He licks his lips, imagining you in a tiny lace set, the sheer fabric clinging to your figure while you swayed around the dimly lit club. A piece of art in the sea of ogling and drooling patrons, blooming beautifully under the flattery. 

“You liked the attention.” 

You giggle, “Yeah, a lot. Sure, some customers were gross and would say nasty things, but others were nice, real nice—they’d tip a lot and compliment me. Most of them were just lonely, they wanted someone to talk to or someone to spoil.” 

You don’t regret accepting their fawning or expensive gifts, hell, most of your jewelry was from your loyal clients. Sparkly things paired with sweet words were a one-way ticket to your good books. 

“How about your boss?” Ari asks, “how did he treat you?”

Venom Vixens wasn’t only a haven for the lonely or where perverts got their fill, but of course, you wouldn’t know that. You’d have a heart attack if you knew of the shady people who walked in and out of those doors, you’ve probably served a few of them, flashed that bright smile and earned yourself a big tip—unknowingly pocketing the filthy, blood-stained money. 

“Mr. Hansen was very friendly, but everything went through him. If we wanted to change a routine, we had to perform it for him first and get his approval. He said it was protocol.” Ari snorts but you don’t catch it, all too distracted with twisting the ring on his middle finger. “He was nice when you were nice to him.”

“So he must’ve always been kind to you. You’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”

You preen under his praise and nod happily, questioning why you were so nervous around him in the first place.

Ari was a flirt—and you loved being flirted with. 

“Mr. Hansen called me his favourite before he fired me. That was over two weeks ago, and Nat said I could take my time but,” you sigh, “I feel like a bother.” 

He wonders if your best friend would still hate him if she knew he was the reason that her cafe was still standing. Without his ruling over the South district, there would be chaos, and that little joint would’ve been ransacked long ago. 

Did he also call for extra protection because you frequented the establishment? Proudly so. 

“Are you still looking for a job?” He takes your distant hum as a yes, “Do you want to work for me?”

Your head snaps up, your sparkling eyes wide in surprise. 

“I’m opening a new club in a few days and I’ve got a spot left for a performer.” He didn’t, but he had no problem giving someone the boot to make room for you. 

Your mouth opens and closes several times, and the thought of Ari owning a club flies straight over your head. You’ve watched him more than your favourite movie but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him, except that he smokes, liked to work out and alternated between a white mustang and a sleek black motorcycle. 

Oh, and sometimes he changes in front of his bedroom window. 

“You’ll be my boss?”

Say the word, and he’ll be much more than that.

He smirks, gripping your jaw and turning you from side to side, blue eyes flickering over your features, “Sure will. I have a feeling this pretty face will be the main attraction every night.”

Your heart swells when his fingers dig into your cheeks. “I-I would, but Nat won’t like that. She kind of hates you… and your friends.” He adds pressure and your lips pucker, “you’re all s-ho loud wit ya’  bikes ‘n engines.”

Ari bites his tongue, it was either the motorcycles or the blood-curdling screams of the poor soul in the basement. He made a mental note to speed up the process of that soundproof room, he couldn’t have you losing sleep over his business. 

“She doesn’t have to know.” He replies, releasing your face in favour of loosely grasping your throat. Your pulse thumps under his fingers, hard and fast, speeding up as he leans closer, “c’mon, don’t you want to be a star? Get all that attention again and make me proud?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i just love sweet!readers, they're my faves 🥹 and pairing them with big hunky (secretly soft) men is heaven !! i can't get enough !!!!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! I love you all very much 😚🫶

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

[urgonnaneedabiggership]

Host of a Ghost

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language. Spoilers (Miguel's backstory is mentioned). Mild violence. Very, very light mention of a foiled SA (not to reader). Some angst.

Word count: 4.1K

Short A/N: This man has become my hyperfixation since I watched the movie and I'd been wanting to write something with him and today finally the muse came to me do I deliver you this decent-sized thing I wrote. Hope you like it <3

PART II

“Unusual” wasn’t a word you would’ve used to describe your life at all. At least not until about a year ago.

It was unusual to find a spider with such an odd color palette roaming your apartment since you were used to more dull-colored typical critters. It was also unusual that you didn’t panic enough to turn the apartment upside down to look for the thing before it bit you, but there was too much work to do, and a million notes from Dr. Connors to go over. It was equally unusual that you hadn’t rushed to the hospital the minute you noticed the tiny marks on your thigh.

“I mean, if it was really dangerous, it would have hurt more.” Was your reasoning to ignore it and keep scanning the pages before you. Nobody said pursuing a Ph.D. was without sacrifice. 

By the time you tried to stand up to make more coffee just to end up collapsing on your kitchen floor, it was much too late.

From then on, “unusual” was pretty much every day’s motto.

Having a nightmare that night about being suffocated and unable to escape just to wake up hanging upside down and wrapped in sticky shit was the first clue. Turns out you were actually able to produce said sticky shit at will in the shape of a thin thread, then you discovered the wall-climbing abilities, and before you knew it you were roaming the city at night trying to get comfortable threading between the tall buildings, running across rooftops and challenging yourself to climb this or that building as fast as you could. You felt indestructible, alive. It was wonderful.

You’d never forget the night of your first save either. For several reasons.

It was an ordinary night, right before returning to your apartment, when a violent shiver abruptly ran up your spine and every cell in your body commanded you to stop. When you did, a scuffle in a nearby alley caught your eye. A young girl was violently shoved against a wall by a man who pressed his hand against her mouth. The same second his hand came dangerously close to the zipper of her jacket, you practically tackled him from above and pinned him against the ground, having no clue of what to do besides throwing punches at his face until you knocked him out. A whimper coming from a dumpster behind made you realize you had an audience.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, remembering your uncovered face, the only solution at hand is to wrap your scarf around your head to try and hide as much as possible, “Oh god this feels too much like cultural appropriation for my taste,” You kept nervously rambling to yourself as you slowly approached the dumpster.

“Um…hi,” You greeted, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Being met with nothing but silence, you were about to leave when a soft voice replied.

“No. He didn’t. Thank you so much.”

“Is there…I don’t know; is there somebody you want me to call?”

“I want to call my mom.” She replied, her voice still shaking, “He took my phone.”

“Right. Phone. Okay.” You quickly made your way back to the unconscious man and pawed his clothes looking for it. He let out a groan in protest.

“Yeah it doesn’t feel right, does it asshole?” You muttered as you retrieved it from one of his pockets. Then you shoved him onto his stomach to tie his hands and legs behind his back before returning to the girl.

“Here. It still works,” You just held it over the dumpster, seeing nothing but her pale hand as it reached out to take it before you took a few steps back. 

“No, wait,” She immediately pleaded, “Please don’t leave me alone with him.”

“Like hell I am. I’m staying right here.”

So you waited with her until the police arrived. However, the minute you saw the flickering lights and heard the approaching siren, you retreated into the dark part of the alley and climbed onto the nearest building to escape through the rooftops.

It wasn’t until you were back in your apartment that you realized you’d been smiling all the way home. Carefully shutting the window behind you, you let yourself fall onto the couch and screamed joyfully, the pillow muffling the sound.

She was okay. A person was okay because you could intervene and do something about it.

However, a new wave of shivers flooded your veins so abruptly that you sat down immediately.

“Yeah, I know how that feels,” Came a feminine voice from the unlit kitchen, “Being able to help, I mean.”

You scrambled to your feet and started walking backward. However, the voice didn’t remain hidden for too long. A woman emerged from the shadows, dressed in red with a yellow hairband pushing her near-afro hair back. She greeted you with a soft smile.

“Your reflexes need polishing,”

“My…?” You repeated, dumbfounded.

“And you have to learn how to fight properly. Randomly throwing punches isn’t always going to cut it,”

“I’m sorry, who are you? Why are you in my apartment? Were you following me? Do you know about…?”

“Whoa, slow down, kid. I know you have questions, and I might be able to help you with that. But you’re going to have to come with me.”

“Alright, I’ll…let me just get my car keys,”

“Oh, sweetie,” The woman said in between laughs, not malicious but truly amused, “You have so much to learn,”

You were starting to wonder why she had elongated that “o” like that until, after pressing a few buttons on the device around her wrist, something that you would’ve described as a “black hole on LSD” erupted in the middle of your living room.

That night you learned that her name was Jessica Drews and that she was completely right about you having so much to learn. With a four-second-o.

Over the following months, you became capable of things you didn’t think possible. Walls that took you a minute to climb became easy obstacles that didn’t take up more than fifteen seconds of your time, your fighting skills had also improved exponentially under Jess’s tutelage, and of course, going from a life where you could count your friends with less than one hand to being constantly surrounded by amazing (no pun intended) Spider-People who not only understood the changes you were going through but warmly welcomed you into their circle was more than you could’ve asked for.

Well, perhaps some more willingly than others. And by others you meant him.

He, who seemed to be always around, silently watching but never intervening.

He, who despite being allegedly “always locked up in his lab” always seemed to personally oversee your training since day one.

Whom you’d tried to greet as gleefully as you did the others just to receive, if anything, a vague nod of acknowledgment. In your first three months, you had spoken maybe four times. Well, you had. He only hummed, nodded, or answered in monosyllables. You knew better than to waste your energy with people like that, but for some reason you were unwilling to just accept Miguel O’Hara didn’t like you and that was that.

“For some reason” being code for “I’m one second away from fainting every time he as much as looks in my direction,”

You weren’t a child, for crying out loud. You were aware that no matter how cold, distant, and seemingly indifferent the leader of your new team was, he was an insanely attractive man. Even with the fangs…no, especially with the fangs, for some reason. His whole aura that screamed “completely-inaccessible-frighteningly-powerful-twice-my-size-man” had you harboring a huge crush on him within two months of meeting him. So painfully unrequited that it was embarrassing.   Just the fact he could ignore your greetings and surely never think twice of it but you would spend the rest of the day wondering what you could’ve possibly said to make him at least say “hello” back made you want to scream into a pillow until your throat burned.

It was right up there with the time he’d muttered ‘much better’ when he saw you land a kick you’d been practicing and those three seconds kept playing on your head for the rest of the week.

The night of your first mission you decided you were going to prove your worth, not to your crush but to your team leader.

“I told him you’re ready,” Jess said with a proud smile, “He’s going to call you in sometime throughout the day to let you know where you’ll be going and with whom, probably me. How do you feel?”

“Excited, I guess,” You replied, pressing your lips together anxiously, “Also nervous. I don’t want to screw this up.”

“With me as your mentor? That’s unlikely,” Jess replied with a wink, giving you an encouraging pat on your shoulder as she walked away.

However, the day continued normally. You did some assigned tasks here and there, which mostly included helping Spider-Byte to keep everything running smoothly given your background in the tech field. You grabbed lunch, then thought it would be a good idea to train some more before going away.

You were beginning to lose all hope when, as you leaned down to fix some wiring, Lyla popped right beside your head and called your name so loudly you hit your head against the metal and hissed. One year and still you hadn’t used to the way she appeared out of nowhere.

“Oops, sorry,” She promptly apologized, “Well you’ll have to walk that off, Miguel wants to see you STAT.”

“How am I supposed to walk a head injury off, Lyla?” You joked, rubbing your forehead as you rushed across the halls with the holographical figure floating after you.

“Not in my code,” She replied using her usual excuse.

When you walked into his working space, Miguel’s back was turned to you as he used a digital pen to do some annotations on what looked like blueprints of new equipment. After he didn’t react to your presence for a few seconds, you hesitantly walked closer and cleared your throat.

“That looks nice. Is it a new suit?” You asked, as always, trying to start a conversation.

“I just received an alert about the…” He stopped and sighed as if saying the silly nickname was physically painful to him, “…the Go-Home-Machine. It said there was a small power overload since we sent back that Vulture from the 192-011 Universe.”

“Yeah, but Byte and I are already working on that and it should be fully functional by tomorrow morning,” You replied, a bit confused as to what that had to do with your mission.

“Good. Let me know as soon as it’s fixed.” Miguel hastily replied, not even turning to face you until a whole minute passed and he realized you were still standing there. Even then, he just barely turned his head.

“That’s all, (Y/N). Thank you.”

That’s all? What do you mean that’s all?

“Was there something else you wanted to do?” He asked. Shit. You’d said that out loud.

“I…Jessica told me that I’m ready to go on a mission and that today you…”

“I said I would think about it, and I have.”

He fell silent again. No matter how attractive he was, you were starting to truly get pissed at his stupid theatrical antics.

“And?”

“And the answer’s no. You’re not ready yet.”

That felt like all the disappointments in your entire life added up and multiplied by ten. Especially because of how easily he dismissed you despite being aware of how hard you’d worked, how many nights you decided to forgo hours of sleep just to train and polish every movement until it was as close to flawless as you could.

“Not ready yet?” You practically hissed in a voice you almost didn’t recognize. Hell, it was enough for him to put down the pen. “Not ready yet? That kid Pavitr has been here for what? A month? And he’s already going off on missions. Alone, I might add!”

Unsurprisingly, he did not answer.

“And he’s very, very good, I’m not saying he isn’t. But I’m just as good. And more experienced, both at being here and at being a Spider-Person. I have completed every training scenario you’ve thrown my way, worked my ass off to understand every bit of information regarding interdimensional traveling, and studied the protocol to control anomalies, what is it that you still need me to prove?”

He took a deep breath. So deep that his shoulders rose, flexing the muscles of his back in such a way that if you hadn’t been so angry, you would’ve been too distracted to keep arguing. Even with your blood boiling, you couldn’t help but stare and feel your stomach tense at the sight.

“Do you like being part of this team, (Y/N)? Do you like training in our headquarters, having access to all our information, and maintaining contact with the other members of this society?”

“Of course I do,” You replied immediately. Slowly, Miguel turned around to face you completely and walked towards you, descending the two small steps that separated you until he stood towering over you. Even if your knees were about to give in to this unexpected closeness, this wasn’t the time to fold. You held his glare defiantly and folded your arms in an attempt to mentally guard yourself against him.

“Then I suggest you get in line and do as you’re told,” He said in a low voice. But it wasn’t threatening, or condescending. It was an odd, flat tone. Tired, perhaps. Almost as if…as if he was reprimanding you against his will.

He was almost unbearably close. You could feel his breath hitting your face. If right then all logic flew out of the window and you stood on your tiptoes you could…

“I’ll do that when you’ve earned my respect, and I have a policy of reciprocity when it comes to respect, Miguel. I’ve been in line for a year, I’ve listened, learned, and improved so much that if you’re still looking down on me, then it’s your problem, not mine. And no self-righteous, big-headed…”

“Just get out,” He cut you off, once again turning his back to you and walking towards the blueprints again.

“Oh no, I’m not finished…” You insisted, trying to follow him. However, as soon as you gave one step forward he turned around so violently that you stumbled backward and stared at him with something you hadn’t felt towards him up until then: fear.

“Yes, you are,” Was his only reply. As dull as the others.

While you could only see his face for a moment before he walked past you and left the room, something about his expression stuck with you even hours later, when you laid on your bed at night and combed through the scene over and over. You thought he would be fuming, maybe even shocked that you’d dared to talk to him like that. The last thing you expected was for him to look…upset. Hurt, even. The mere thought of you being able to hurt Miguel O’Hara was as ridiculous as imagining a goldfish fighting back against a shark. Still, you realized that even if you thought he was in the wrong, you felt bad about how things went down back there. You would never understand what being the leader of hundreds of super-powered people was like. Commanding each and directing their particular abilities as best as he could all while maintaining a vigilant eye on endless strings of causes and effects because he knew firsthand the consequences of being careless with them.

Even if he had made a mistake with you and of course you still wanted to address it later, right then all you wanted was to apologize.

And so, not even an hour later you were roaming the halls of the HQ, your heart beating furiously as you got closer to his quarters, wondering what you could even begin to say.

When the automatic doors slid open, you stepped inside and turned back to look as the doors closed behind you. Well, no turning back now.

“Miguel?” You called, looking around the large room, pondering whether a first-name basis was okay. After everything that had happened, going back to Mr. O’Hara sounded terribly stupid. Then your eyes landed on the row of screens where he spent most of his time. An extremely ill-timed wave of curiosity filled your chest as you approached them, taking another look at the seemingly empty room before stepping onto the platform. Getting bolder, you reached out your hand and brushed your fingertips across one of the screens. It immediately came to life with a blue glow, startling you and making you curse under your breath. You were about to look for a button to switch it off when a video started playing automatically from where he had left off. He was in it, holding a young girl. Miguel wasn’t just smiling. He was laughing. His laugh was exactly as you’d pictured it. Not particularly loud, but hearty and low. He had the kind of laugh that made you unwittingly smile as well as a newfound sympathy filled your chest as tears filled your eyes when you pictured that being taken from him just like that. How could one have a family, and then one day be completely alone and keep going?

With a renewed disposition to make things better between you, your hand reached out for the switch that would turn the screen off until a third voice piqued your interest. It belonged to whoever was holding the camera.

“Would you please stop hoarding her? I deserve some mother-daughter time too! Here, hold this thing and give her to me,” The voice said between laughs. There was something about that voice that made an extremely cold shiver run down your spine.

“Fine, you’re right. Bueno pues, mijita, ve con mamá, ¿quieres ir con mamá?”

The picture became blurry as the camera switched places with a giggling Gabriella, who could be briefly seen stretching her arms toward the third figure.

“Alright,” Came Miguel’s voice again, “But when I turn the camera towards you I want both of you to blow Daddy a kiss, can you do that for me?”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned the camera around.

And then you found yourself staring into your own eyes. They weren’t quite the same shade as yours, and “your” hair was styled differently. And “you” had freckles. But otherwise, it was like staring into an interdimensional mirror. Then, your voice spoke.

“Okay sweetie, let’s humor him, shall we? Blow Daddy a kiss. And another one from me because now I have to use both arms to hold you, my big girl!”

Miguel laughed again at the way his daughter’s face lit up at being called a “big girl”.

“¿Saben que las amo a las dos, verdad?”

“And Gabriella loves you too. I think you’re…nice enough.”

“(Y/N), I don’t think you marry somebody for ‘nice enough’, mi amor,”

“I love you too. Against my better judgment.”

With one last interrupted laugh, the video ended, and, in a cruel irony, the once again black screen showed your actual reflection.

Except this time, it wasn’t the only one. With a loud gasp, you turned around. After seeing him in that video, it became much more evident that the Miguel in it was nothing but a memory of the past. And in a matter of seconds, everything shifted into place like a gloomy puzzle. His expression was unreadable, though he wasn’t even looking at you. His eyes were fixed on the empty screen.

“I wasn’t supposed to ever see that, was I?” Was the only thing that came to your mind after a lengthy, tense silence.

“What good would it have done?” He replied, almost numbly.

“So that’s why you’ve always…stared?” You kept pushing. Against your better judgment, you thought.

“It was at first,” Came his only response. Like always, it seemed like you would have to tear the answers off him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, turning your head to look for his eyes. Even then, something warm filled your chest. Something that made your heart beat so quickly you felt as if it would stop at any moment, and it spread all over you no matter how much you tried to fend it off. Hope.

Surprisingly, this time he caved in and looked at you. Still, the answer never came. For the first time in all the time you’d known him, Miguel O’Hara was at a loss for words. And that said more than anything he could’ve come up with.

“And you expect me to believe that, by sheer chance, you happened to catch feelings for somebody who is practically your wife’s interdimensional twin?”

“It sounds so much worse when you say it like that,” Was that a hint of a smile? An attempt at a joke? One year and the only time he’d bothered to be decent to you was when you were talking about how much you looked like her?

With an annoyed look, you moved away from him and started to make your way to the exit.

“Do you think I wanted this?” He spoke rather loudly, his whispers going out of the window as he started to follow you across the room.

Miguel O’Hara following you to keep you from leaving. Just hours before you would’ve died of happiness at the mere thought of this scenario. Right now, your brain was a flurry of thoughts and emotions that you didn’t know how to handle.

“I was doing an amazing job at keeping my distance. Watching you from afar, seeing you laugh, grow, win everybody over with that awfully big heart of yours, and still I reined myself in,” He continued, “Today’s the perfect example. You thought I didn’t respect you, for fuck’s sake! I respect you so much that every single day I have ignored you and pretended you are nothing but another face in the halls. Damn it, (Y/N), I couldn’t even look you in the eye when for months you’ve been all I’ve wanted. All because I didn’t know if I loved you or what was left of her. And I didn’t want you to get involved in shit that’s mine to figure out.”

Hearing him not only withdraw his previous statement of you not being capable of doing things and accepting the problem was his and not yours made you stop in your tracks.

Fine, the sudden (though odd) love declaration had something to do with it too.

“So you don’t think I’m not ready?” You asked, turning around and even taking some steps towards him.

“Are you serious? I’ve watched you closely all these months. You learn in days what others do in weeks. You push yourself way more than so many of our members and yet I’ve never, ever seen you become overconfident. Today you never said you knew everything. You said you knew enough.”

This time, it was you who remained silent. There was something else you wanted him to elaborate on, and from the look in his eyes, you realized he knew damn well what it was.

“You were right. The problem wasn’t yours. It was mine all along. I could manage to push you away and keep my feelings at bay. But knowing that you were eventually going to go out there and take so many risks...worst case scenario, you could get hurt or not come back at all. That was too much for me to handle, s’all.”

“Were you afraid of losing me…?” You started to ask just for him to interrupt you.

“Yes. Very much.” However, you lifted a hand to stop him. You weren’t finished.

“Were you afraid of losing me, or were you afraid of losing her again, Miguel?”

Three seconds later, when no answer came out of his mouth, you were about to turn around once again when he rushed and stood in front of you. For a second, you thought he was going to grab your shoulders to keep you in place. Not wanting to come off as if he was forcing you to stay, his hands just hovered on both sides of your shoulders without touching you.

“Listen, she wasn’t a picky eater like you are. But I swear that woman never drank enough water and every time I see you there’s either a bottle in your hand or laying around. And she was so, so messy. It took us at least ten minutes to find the keys every single time…and Spider-Byte said you sort your tools by size and color. Color. (Y/N), I don’t think even I…”

“Are you getting somewhere with this?”

“You’re not her, (Y/N). You have never been, and you never will, I know that. I want you to know that I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. I love you.”

After that, he moved out of the way and folded his arms.

“If you want to go back to your dimension and stay there for a while…or for good, I don’t know, I completely…”

“I love you too, you know?” You cut him off, pressing your lips together after blurting out the three words that’d been haunting you for the past months. Words that up until now you were sure would never leave your chest. When you turned to look at him, you saw in his eyes what minutes ago had filled yours. Hope.

God, his face was so hauntingly beautiful when his features softened.

“What do you want from me?” You finally asked him, your voice shaky from the effect you knew his answer would have regardless of what it was.

Miguel moved closer to you almost hesitantly, his eyes never leaving yours. When he was close enough, he reached out with both his hands and slid them up the back of your neck, his thumbs tucked in front of your ears as his warm palms engulfed the back of your head so he could hold you while he brought his face down to press his forehead against yours.

“Mi amor, I’d give you all I am and be happy with whatever you’re willing to give me for now,”  

You knew it would take some time for you to get used to hearing him say things like that without wondering if you were the only one in his mind when he did. It would be a while until you felt completely certain that you were made of flesh and bone and not just a ghost in his eyes, but it would happen. You saw his eyes as he drew his face closer to yours and when your lips touched, you knew that it would definitely happen sooner or later. Until then, you thought as you stood on your tiptoes when he almost desperately pressed his lips onto yours, he was very much worth the wait.

[mrsparkjimin18]

can you handle it?

🔞pairing: Tae x Reader X JK

🔞genre: Girls Night Out AU, Strangers to lovers, pure unadulterated smut, porn with little plot, threesome, party bus sex, playboys Tae and JK

🔞rating: M

🔞wordcount: 3909

⚠️chapter warnings: extremely descriptive and graphic smut scene

summary: A night out with the girls was meant to be simple fun—until a chance encounter turns the heat up. Drinks, dancing, a flirtation that goes too far… Now, the only question left is: Can You Handle It?

Being single for the last seven months has put your life into perspective; it’s pretty boring. You thought throwing yourself into your work would fill that void of loneliness, but so far you have been very wrong. 

You haven't been out with the girls in a while and the idea of a party bus sounds like the perfect Friday night. Your BFF insists the male-to-female ratio is always lit on this booze tour and she promises nobody's going home alone.

"Who says I wanna take anybody home?” you sneer, becoming instantly defensive. “Don’t assume I’m in need of a dick appointment just because I’ve been single for almost a year.”

“Nobody’s saying you have to start a whole new relationship. You just need to get yours before you explode from the stress,” she reminds her in the sweet yet patronizing tone of a best friend who doesn’t hold back.

“I get mine!” You exclaim dramatically.

“Your vibrator doesn’t count bitch. Get ready. Bus will be there in forty-five minutes.” 

She hangs up before you can protest further and you race to get ready. You take a quick shower and then decide to throw on the cute hot pink dress you purchased as a pick-me-up – you know, the one you thought you’d wear to get over him, but never did. Then you slip into your stilettos, apply light makeup and throw your hair into a messy bun.

You inspect yourself in the mirror, deciding it's good enough for a night out with the girls, since you have no intention of hooking up with anyone. You just want to live for tonight; with great music, good company, and lots of drinks. Your thought process is interrupted by a notification letting you know the bus is arriving, and you take a few deep breaths before rushing with restraint to the door.

There’s already a decent number of riders when you board, though not a single guy appeals to your taste; which is fine since you’re not interested in hooking up. But within a few stops you find yourself needing to reinforce this mantra of self imposed celibacy, when two insanely good-looking men step onto the bus and instantly catch your eye. 

You wonder if they're brothers. Both are tall and broad-shouldered, with chiseled jaws, deep brown eyes, and black hair that looks casually mussed yet perfectly coiffed at the same time. Your breath hitches as they choose to sit right across from you.

Your BFF raises an approving mischievous eyebrow in your direction that you return with a quick sneering glare. However, you’re already beginning to feel shy and exposed as both of the tantalizing men seem to eye your dangerously bare legs, making you feel as if maybe you should have dressed down for the night.

The tour stops at a few smaller pubs, giving just enough time for a couple shots and a little mingling. But you're unable to control the urge, constantly finding yourself scanning the room for the two guys from the bus. Each time you find them they seem to be staring in your direction, as if sizing you up. When you finally arrive at the last stop - one of the hottest night clubs in the area - some of the riders go their separate ways while the rest of the party heads inside to continue the night's festivities.

Bottles cover the table in the VIP, shots are passed around, and eventually the party heads to the dance floor. Your favorite song plays and your body moves to the familiar rhythm without thought. You close your eyes, letting the music flow through you - relaxing you - making you forget.

Before you know it, the two men you’ve been playing I spy with all night have you sandwiched, their hands on your hips, your bodies now moving in unison to the beat you were alone in a moment ago.

"I'm Taehyung, this is my friend, Jungkook. We noticed you noticing us,” One says confidently from where he dances behind you. “Is there something we can help you with?” he asks, pulling your body against his and letting his lips brush your ear as he speaks. 

His friend, Jungkook, notices your pupils flare in response to Taehyung's question and he moves closer, pressing his body to yours. The pressure of them against you feels so right, as if it was fate calling your name, convincing you this is what you need. 

You instantly feel your body relax between them. Melding with them as you continue to move to the music. All thoughts of your earlier mantra dissolving under their touch. Taehyung loosens his grip on your waist, and soon his hands are exploring; roaming your body, sliding across sections of bare skin not hidden by your dress, seeking to know you through touch. All the while you stare into Jungkook’s smiling, excited eyes as his friend continues his tour of your body. His expression tells you you’re beautiful, you’re sexy, you’re desired. His hungry penetrating gaze and Tae’s roaming hands transform you into the goddess you always knew was within, awaiting release.

You’re so intent on his eyes, you don’t notice Jungkook’s hand leaving your waist to join the expedition, and the sudden feel of his curious fingers trailing up your inner leg, stopping just short of your already quivering slit, makes your knees buckle. His eyes light up with increased excitement. He leans forward taking a nibble of your ear, inching his fingers into your lonely passage, opening you, releasing your essence. They move inside you as if joining in on the dance. You let out an audible sigh as he exits.

"Already wet and we haven’t even begun the fun yet," he teases, holding up his slick glistened fingers for Tae to see.

Your inner goddess shrinks back a bit in embarrassment as you quickly look around at the throng of people dancing near you. “Stop that,” you giggle nervously as you grab Jungkook’s wrist in an attempt to lower his hand from view. But he’s too strong and you have little success in moving him even an inch.

“Don’t get shy now, baby,” he purrs as he brings his wet fingers to your lips, your hand still gripping his wrist. Then his lips follow, kissing you over his fingers, your tongues meet, exploring each other’s mouths, savoring your taste.

One of Taehyung’s exploring hands slips quietly beneath the hem of your dress. He cups the supple curve of your ass, squeezing once before slowly descending in search of the treasure below. Two of his long slender fingers slide eagerly into your now quivering walls and you feel the heat of his breath on your neck as his tongue lingers up behind your ear, his lips planting a warm kiss. 

"She's definitely ready," he growls, tasting your sweet nectar.

Grinding against you, it becomes evident they feel the same. Slick dripping down your thigh, you return the favor, palming both of their cocks, feeling them harden from your touch.

"You guys want to get out of here? We can go to my place.” The desperation in your request was fairly obvious.

"Be patient princess, we've got time," Jungkook utters, moaning at the tender grip you have on his stiff member.

His lips meet your neck and he nibbles and sucks, marking you, claiming you as theirs. You feel his bulging cock twitch in your hand when you lay your head back onto Taehyung’s chest, inviting him to mark the other side of your neck.

Just as he finishes leaving his second mark, the song ends. You lead them off the dance floor towards the VIP and they follow like obedient servants, making you feel powerful and seductive - a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. Your inner Goddess beams with pride. 

They untuck their shirts as you enter the VIP, attempting to hide their arousal. But you know what awaits you beneath those layers of fabric. You felt the promise of what they have to offer and you can’t wait to claim your rewards.

In the VIP more rounds of shots are poured, the flirting and teasing continues, and everyone is drunk and oblivious to the private party taking place right in front of them. Welcoming kisses from their soft lips, deliberate caresses of your inner thighs, your body aching for more. 

As the night lingers on guests begin leaving, opting for a rideshare rather than the party bus. Your BFF is still on the dance floor with the man she decided she was going home with tonight, and upon noticing you’re still at the club she dashes over to the VIP.

“Give the driver your address, because I *hiccup* going home with Miguel! He knows how to Tango *hiccup* perfectly in this!” She quickly scurries back to him and they exit the club, his hand cupped on her round ass as they walk out.

You jot down your address on a napkin, Taehyung grabs it from you, slipping it into his pocket, having heard the conversation between you and your friend.

"Looks like it's just us, are you ready, baby?" Taehyung asks with his deep, seductive voice. The sheer tone sends chills through every orifice on your body, causing your skin to shiver and fill with goosebumps. Jungkook places his large hand on the small of your back, leading you to the exit. 

“Take the longest route to this address,” Taehyung insists, handing the driver the napkin and a hundred dollar bill, before following you and Jungkook into the private back section of the party bus.

Just as they had earlier, you sit across from them, teasingly spreading your legs, revealing your exposed core. Moaning as you dip two fingers into your warm core and pull them out, sucking and releasing them with a pop. 

Taehung eyeballs you while palming himself, nodding at Jungkook to give you what you’re clearly in need of. Standing up, Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head, unbuttoning and allowing his pants to fall to his feet, his hard cock standing at attention for you. He slowly crouches into a kneel in front of your parted thighs, his fingers linger over your slit, your whole body quivering with desire.

The sensation of his warm tongue feasting on your clit numbs all your other senses. A slow burn starts in the pit of your stomach, surging slowly through your veins with every suck, swirl and lick.  He plunges his tongue inside your succulent, tight walls as your euphoric orgasm comes to a peak. Fingers gripping his hair holding his head in place, your core grinding against his face accelerating your high.

"K-Kook I'm cumming!" The elevated tone in your voice summons Taehyung's lips to your mouth, muffling your moans, his tongue exploring your mouth, entangling with yours.

When you finish, Jungkook stands, wiping your slick from his chin before settling back on the velvet bench seat across from you. Watching him lustfully as he strokes his hard cock. Taehyung stands over you, large cock in hand ready to stretch your walls to the point of no return.

Before he has a chance, Jungkook calls him over, inaudibly whispering into Tae’s ear. They both look you over, sneering and smirking, mischievous grins on their faces.

“We’re keeping secrets now?,” you inquire playful, yet pouty.

“He said, ‘I don’t think she’s ready for what we’re gonna give her,’ so the question is can you handle it?” Taehyung questioned, his dark, hooded eyes filled with lust, ready to pound into you, filling you with his large cock.

Maybe it’s the alcohol you drank tonight, maybe it’s the lack of sexual release in the last 8 months, but the words that leave your mouth next surprise all of you.

“I’m ready to take whatever you’re going to give me,” your finger pointing daringly at Taehyung, which he obviously takes as a challenge.

“Come sit on it then,” Tae commands while using both hands to stroke his massive shaft.

You stand up, hiking your dress to your waist and walk over to him, straddling his thick thighs as you position him at your entrance. Slowly guiding him into you, walls stretching more than they ever have around his girthy cock. You feel him in your stomach, wanting to tap out, but refusing to lose a challenge.

He feels your hesitation once he’s buried deep inside of you, his large hands grip your hips, lifting you up and down, coaxing your hips to roll. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you close as he lays down on the bench seat, giving himself better leverage from the bottom. 

The sudden feel of a finger teasing the outer rim of your other hole surprises you, however, your body is aroused with ecstasy and you let yourself relax into it. 

That is, until you notice Jungkook stand and slowly make his way to you, throbbing cock in hand and a sly grin on his perfect face, fully aware Taehyung is only readying you for what’s to come.

He leans down and kisses you more softly than you expect, letting you feel the curve of his playful grin against your trembling lips before sliding down to your neck, trailing kisses along your nape as he moves behind you and out of view, only the feel of him mapping out his conquest betraying his location. 

Tae grabs your chin, forcing you to open your eyes, the fingers of his other hand still prodding and prepping that yet to be opened portal of pleasure. 

"Look at me, baby," he purrs, "focus on me."

You nod in acquiescence, almost forgetting the looming figure at your back as your hungry eyes lock on his and you continue your rhythmic hip slide up and down his enormous shaft.

Jungkook’s grinning lips and hot tongue disappear suddenly from your back, his hand bearing down gently until your face is mere inches from Taehyungs. 

Tae smiles at you with hooded, amused eyes. 

"Ready, baby?" He asks in a sultry whisper.

You don't have time to answer. All you can do is gasp for breath as you feel Jungkooks swollen head against your opening, rubbing against it, fighting Taes finger for room to enter.

Your entire being becomes filled by them both. You're consumed by the pressure of their hard cocks moving in unison, stretching and stimulating every nerve ending, forcing a deep moan to escape past your pressed lips.

Jungkook’s moans soon harmonize with yours, and Taehyung’s mouth forms a boxy smile of satisfaction at the sound. “I think he likes it as much as you,” he teases from below. But the only response you can manage is another groan as his hands slide to your ass, gripping each cheek and spreading them to allow Jungkook deeper access. 

“I do love a tight ass.” Jungkook growls into your ear, pressing you down, pinning you between their sweaty bodies as you struggle to keep your hips in motion, craving more of the sensation of their cocks moving against each other through your walls.

“Harder,” you cry out, finally able to form a word.

Tae, his hands still spreading your ass open, thrusts up and pulls you forward until he’s buried deep inside, almost forcing Jungkook out of you from within. Your mouth opens in a silent scream of desperation and your hands frantically grab at Jungkook’s solid thighs to keep him in place. 

Tae can’t take his eyes off your gaping mouth, and without notice he slides carefully out of you and from beneath you, leaving you with a hollow feeling until Jungkook’s arm slides around your waist from behind, lifting you, never exiting his conquered domain as he shifts to sit on the bench. He bites softly at your shoulders and back as he pulls each of your legs over his knees and spreads his legs wide, exposing your now empty throbbing pussy to Taehyung.

You stare at Tae standing before you, his glistening cock heavy in his hand as his thumb slides back and forth over the slick, fat head. The sight, along with the feel of Jungkook filling you up is more than you can bear and you reach down to slide your own fingers into the hot wetness between your legs to fill some of the emptiness, but the look in Tae’s eyes says he has other plans.

His accomplice sees his intent and quickly grabs your arms up over your head, holding them together by the wrists with just one large hand while the other hand runs over your breasts, lightly pinching and flicking your hardened nipples. His body never stops moving beneath you as he continues your rhythm. He laughs softly as you unconsciously attempt to pull a hand free to touch yourself with, desperate to relieve the building pressure. 

“You can’t be done yet, beautiful,” Jungkook instructs in your ear, his tongue running along its sensitive edges, making your eyes shut and your head loll back in pleasurable despair. “My friend hasn’t gotten what he really wants yet.”

You feel Taehyung move closer, hovering just outside of your entrance but not allowing contact, the heat of him radiating into you as if he was still inside. You squeeze your eyes closed tighter, enjoying the anticipation of what's to come, but then snap them back open, suddenly desperate to see his gorgeous face as he slides back into you. His boxy, mischievous smile returns as your eyes meet his.

“Please,” you suddenly beg, the plea surprising even you. His smile grows, and just as suddenly he plunges back into you, the friction of their cocks once again sliding against each other through that thin wall, sending shock waves of bliss through your body, and then he is gone again.

Before you can moan a complaint, Jungkook releases your arms and in one swift motion lowers you both to the floor, his pace and depth intensifying. You reach up greedily with one hand and lead Tae’s dripping cock to your ready mouth. Your lips stretch and your jaw aches pleasurably as you take in his girth. He groans loudly for the first time, the sound spurring you on as you take him in deeper than you’ve ever taken a man before.

You can feel the wetness drip from your aching, needy pussy; the taste of Tae and the depth of Jungkook taking you to new levels of ecstasy. You brace your knees and the palm of one hand hard into the rough carpet, ignoring the sting of pain as layers of skin were stripped away.

Jungkook’s hand slides around, three fingers immediately entering you, filling that void you so desperately needed filled. You regretfully release Tae, leaning back into Jungkook as an earth shattering orgasm begins to build within your body, allowing him better access to your opening. Tae quickly covers your open moaning mouth with his as his hand joins Junkook in its mission to push you over the edge. 

You bounce and writhe against the increasing hardness of Jungkook’s cock in your ass and the pressure of his fingers inside of you. You moan into Tae’s devouring mouth and shudder under the weight of his fingers rapidly rubbing your already swollen clit.

The first orgasm had been a mere fraction of what rocketed through your body this time, and both of them grip you tightly as you convulse under their continued attack. At its crescendo you feel Jungkook pull out of both of your holes, pulling you back against him as the warmth of his load spreads between your pressed bodies. Tae slides between your spread legs, forcing them wider, and reinserts himself into your overstimulated swollen cunt. 

Thrusting wildly, his stroke becomes uncontrolled, unpredictable, penetrating deep within your walls. Your orgasm that you thought was over returns with renewed vigor, repeaking, surpassing the crescendo and tumbling you into oblivion.

“Don’t fight it,” Jungkook instructs from behind where he holds you steady, one arm around your waist to anchor you, the other kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples.

Just when you thought you had reached your pleasure limit, Taehyung abruptly pulls out, his cum spurting hot and sticky against your inner thighs, the sweat from his brow dripping onto your breasts as he leans over you catching his breath.

You sag in Jungkook’s arms, unable to move, your muscles spent from the exertion. You can feel the pinging sensation of your nerve endings as they continue to fire off between your legs, like a post orgasm firework display. 

For a long time the three of you lay, spent and exhausted, naked sweaty bodies tangled together, only the sound of your heavy breathing and the hum of the bus breaking the silence. You feel… satiated. You feel euphoric. Your inner goddess is dancing.

Finally Tae stands and reaches out a hand to help you up. As you rise he pulls you to him, kissing you slowly and softly, lingering against your full lips. Jungkook rises behind you and begins to wipe away the mess he left on your back. Tae pulls away and looks into your eyes, his smile affectionately amused.

“There’s a restroom in the back,” he says casually as he releases you and takes a small towel from Jungkook. He pats his sweaty brow and you can only nod in response before sweeping your hot pink dress up off the floor and heading to the small airplane sized bathroom.

When you return they’re both dressed and lounging comfortably, drinks in hand, talking leisurely about nothing at all. And although you’ve all gotten to know one another extremely well tonight, you stand there in an awkward silence, waiting for one of them to notice you.

Tae turns to you first, his smile still amused yet kind at the same time. He approaches you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You look pretty with your hair down,” he whispers, before kissing you lightly on the cheek.

“I like it up,” Jungkook chimes in, “easier to grab onto.” He winks at you from where he still sits and then finishes his drink in one gulp.

You blush, but whether it's because of Tae’s sultry gentleness or Jungkook’s sexy cockiness is yet to be determined.

Jungkook stands and heads toward the door, and only then do you realize the bus is no longer moving. You follow him out, Tae close behind, and the three of you stand looking expectantly at each other on the sidewalk as the bus pulls away.

You can’t let the night end like this. You don’t want the night to end like this. No matter how many times you claimed you had no intention of taking anyone home, you couldn’t have imagined this scenario. There was no way you were letting it end here.

You grab both of their hands and lead them through the front door of your building. Upon entering the apartment, your dress drops to the floor and you head to the shower.

As soon as Tae and Jungkook hear the water running they make their way to you, undressing hastily to join. No words were exchanged as they ran their soapy hands over your body, washing away the remnants of passion, taking special care of the sensitive areas. 

After drying off, they join you in bed, one on each side of you, holding you protectively as you all drift off to sleep together

[jiraisupportgroup]

˗ˋˏ ♡ Jirai Kei Survey Results ♡ ˎˊ˗

(NOTE!! I re-opened it because I saw some people saying they were sad they didn’t respond!! It’s open again! You can take it here)

Hi hi!!! First of all, I'm so sorry that this took me like an entire month to make, and second of all thank you to everyone who participated in the survey I posted a while ago! It got 89 total responses which is awesome!! So many more than I was expecting, you guys are awesome ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

I've got a spreadsheet of all the answers given in October 2024 here if you want to go view them for yourself ^-^ (I have redacted pronouns and location for privacy sake)

I also went through and read everyone's answers and pulled some of the main points / focuses people had to make into little graphics for simplification and comparison's sake (This is a huge part of why it took so long because I didn't want to misrepresent anyone's points so I went person by person and considered all of their answers and overall vibe before pulling the main points just to make sure I wasn't accidentally changing or misunderstanding their points).

Please keep in mind: 89 people is NOT a large enough sample size to extrapolate this to the entirety of the Jirai Kei community - this is really just an exploration of the people who answered the survey - it does not represent the feelings of the community as a whole. This survey is derived from the western community as the survey is in English and was posted in primarily English-speaking areas.

Also just as a note I messed up when making the selections for the ages and put 18-21 and then 21-25 so people of the age of 21 could have picked either - this isn't ideal but since I messed it up in the original choice options I'm keeping it listed as that because I think changing 21-25 to 22-25 would be disingenuous.

I'm going to go question by question and kind of break it down if you're interested! I'm also going to try and remain mostly neutral and not really put my personal opinions in here. My main goal is to kind of break down what was said in the survey.

Demographics:

It's a pretty good mix of people. Also, hi!!! So many of you are from so far away!!!! That was really exciting to see. To be honest, it was super cool to see how this community encompasses people from all over the world!!! (Also, as a note here, there was one person who answered the survey who was over 40. I included their answers in the 26-30 range just for simplicity sake.)

I also did not make a graphic for the pronouns: primarily she / her, followed by they / them or any / all, followed by he / him or he / they pronouns just in case you were curious. I also took the pronouns out of the original answers document since I know quite a few people use neo-pronouns which are quite unique and I didn't want anyone to see those and connect that person to their answers, I wanted it to remain as anonymous as possible. I redacted the locations for the same reason.

I did not make a graphic for the languages either but those are included in the original answers spreadsheet that I have linked above. Many people speak Japanese, Russian, German, Spanish, and French. Those were the main answers besides English.

I don't have too much to say about the social medias to be honest. Discord, Youtube, and Twitch are likely under-represented in this since they were write-ins and not part of the general selection.

How did you first hear about Jirai Kei?

I don't have a graphic for this one either. It looks like most people learned about it because they already had an interest in j-fashion. A decent number of people mentioned Needy Streamer Overload. Lots of people came from Pinterest, Instagram, TikTok, and Tumblr. Many people also said they were into Menhera and came from there.

How would you describe Jirai Kei to someone who hasn't heard of it before?

Again, no graphic for this one - highly reccommend to go read some of the answers on the linked sheet above. It was pretty split between people talking about the aesthetics & fashion vs people talking about the mental health community. A lot of people mentioned that if they were talking to someone they didn't know very well or who didn't have any knowledge of j-fashion they would say it's a style and move on, while if they were talking to a friend or someone who did know a little more about j-fashion they would talk more about the mental health aspects and history of the subculture.

A few quotes (I'm trying to get a good mixture of opinions in here, please note these are mostly smaller parts of larger answers - this goes for all the quotes added in this post): ♡ "Usually it's easier for me to just send the wikipedia link to people though honestly" ♡ "a subculture of mostly young women with mental illness who share certain interests in jfashion etc..." ♡ "...a lot of ppl often tell me it just sounds like the jp version of emo." ♡ "A subculture for mentally ill people who can’t, won’t, or don’t want to recover" ♡ "depending on my knowledge on their opinions on mental health, i'd either go with a basic explanation of the fashion if they dont seem like the type to be sympathetic of ppl with mental health issues, but if they seem like the sympathetic type, i'd go more into detail of the origins and lifestyle associated with the subculture." ♡ "Being cute despite your mental illness! Also a bit of consumerism and idol worship..." ♡ "It's mainly a stereotype" ♡ "I would recommend watching cybr.grls video on jirai kei " ♡ "It’s an alternative japanese fashion style with frilly, lacey, and dark garments! The main colors it will be are very muted pinks, blacks, grays, whites, or even reds or purples (albeit rare)" ♡ "Jirai Kei is the term used to describe the fashion style related to Jirais / Landmines , which was a derogatory term used to describe mentally ill girls who had an “explosive” personality , wearing cute clothing to distract / hide men from their personality. It usually consists of frills , ribbons and lace , blouses and skirts , with a colour palette of black and muted colour varients like pink and blue , and white. "

To your understanding where does Jirai Kei come from? What's it's history?

Again, no graphic for this one (T-T these are just too complex for me to comfortably break down into bite-size pieces). Most people talked about the Toyoko kids, a bit less talked about host / hostess clubs, and quite a few vague nods to Kabukicho in general. About a fifth of the people just talked about overall mental health in Japan. Interesting mixture of answers - different people seem to latch on to different parts of the origins, which is likely based on what they relate with the most. I was surprised that only a few people mentioned the "Jirai Kei" makeup trend of 2019/2020 - I honestly thought that would be talked about a little bit more ngl. Interesting read for sure.

A few quotes: ♡ "jirai kei became seen as clothes worn by dangerous or unstable women, hence the trend " ♡ "the history between jirai kei && the toyoko kids sometimes get mixed together because of their resemblances , but it's important to note the two are different . jirai kei define an instable person who will explode at some point like a bomb , but you don't know when ( landmine ) . initially , it was mostly used to refer to girls who threaten their boyfriend to kill him or themselves if the boy left them . since jirais are disordered or mentally ill , they often engage in unhealthy behaviours . the toyoko kids on the other hand are teens who ran away from home to live in the streets instead . most of them suffered from abuse && causally have disorders or illnesses . this is where the two subcultures came together to form one : the jirai kei we know now..." ♡ " The clothing style that is most typically seen on social media stems from the fact that these clothes where cute but cheap to come by. " ♡ "Jirai kei as a term originated from misogynistic men calling mentally ill women “explosive.” The style came from poor (unfortunately, often sex workers) youth in Japan. It how we’ve became popularized and somewhat mainstream there after a while." ♡ "then in 2020 people started dressing up in stereotypical "toyoko kid/jirai woman style" to make fun of them before brands saw how popular this trend became and decided to start selling clothes based off this idea. the original style is known as dark girly kei which uses elements from both dark girly and girly kei the latter being a style that was popular with 2010s gyaru and evolved to incorporate french girly and dark girly motifs making it what it is today. other styles such as subcul and suna kei are also extremely popular with jirai to the point of being synonymous with the style." ♡ "...Thus, the fashion style was associate with "Jirai Onna" and became "Jirai Kei". The fashion style extended beyond Kabukicho and many girls and women wear the style in Japan due to the kawaii look and the popularity of the style within many fashion brands. Another demographic that has popularised Jirai Kei is idol fangirls who wore girly kei and jirai kei fashion. The style was also given the term "ryousangata" meaning "mass produced" an insult basically calling the girls who wear the style "basic"."

What do you think differentiates Jirai Kei from other subcultures?

Okay since this is the first type of this graphic we're seeing let me explain what you're looking at. I took key points or words and quantified how many people mentioned it as a larger part of their explanation. There were a LOT of other things mentioned these were just the ones that came up repeatedly.

Many people were confused by this question and said there are too many differences to even describe, which is completely fair. There were two main types of answers to this question. The first is that fashion is what makes it different because it's a fashion-based subculture or if not fashion-based, fashion is a big part of it. The other is that it's a community based around mental health primarily unlike other subcultures which are based on fashion or music. A lot of people who mentioned this went on to say that the thing that differentiates it from Menhera specifically (because menhera is also based in mental and physical health) was the idea that Menhera is very recovery, resource, and awareness focused, while Jirai Kei isn't focused on those things at all and is more so just people looking for a sense of community.

A few quotes: ‪♡ "menhera is art and advocacy focused, jirai is community focused. menhera also is more recovery focused often, whereas jirai places no emphasis on that at all" ‪♡ "Dawg idk how to tell you this… there’s too many examples and they’re all so different" ♡ "For starters, its background story, the clothing doesn't look the same either.... Jirai culture is not really focused on getting better mentally, much on the contrary... being mentally ill is praised, spending an insane amount of money on clothes you don't exactly need is praised...." ‪♡ "I’ve seen jp jirais say that jirai kei is whatever a jirai girl chooses to wear, it can literally be anything. However, at the moment it visually is a combination of menhera and dark girly kei. Because it’s new though, it’s already having subsets form and change that." ♡ "i think jirai is unique in its rejection of the “just get better” culture a lot of places have. Most people think of inability or unwillingness to improve a moral failing. " ‪♡ "Jirai Kei has a distinct history and recognisable style" ♡ "menhera is about finding a community that wishes to accept you and want to encourage you to get better jirai kei is not about wanting to get better thats a very important distinction" ♡ " - idk how to explain??? It’s like asking what differenciates gyaru and goth lol" ♡ "the subcul is definitely viewed in an extremely negative way compared to other subculs, even menhera. I also think that other subculs like Emo, Anime, and Idol culture revolve a lot around the fashion aspect. While jirai is best known for the Dark Girly fashion, i think that jirai in itself, as mentioned before, is more about the lifestyle that we life, our mental health, and the struggles we go through either on purpose or not" ‪♡ "for many i'd say the fashion is what differenciates them. while they can overlap with common traits under the other subcultures, it's still quite different." ♡ "i do believe that the associated fashions (again, not just dark girly, but also tenshi kaiwai, subcul, etc.) are necessary to set a landmine apart from these cultures. the fashions is a huge part of the subculture and sets it apart from these other mental-health based subcultures. that is why i personally believe that a landmine must at least wear the associated fashions OCCASIONALLY to be considered part of the subculture."

What kind of Jirai Kei content do you engage with the most?

This one again, no graphic. Top answer was outfit / coord posts (82%), second most common was vent posts (67.4%), third was dark humour (58.2%)

Are you interested in the fashions associated with Jirai Kei? Which ones?

Again, not too much to say overall about this.

One thing to note is that some of these answers could technically be lumped in with other ones, like "all of them" could be counted towards Dark Girly Kei, Girly Kei, Tenshi Kaiwai, etc but I kept it separate. Same with "Jirai IS the fashion" which could be lumped into Dark Girly Kei but again I kept it separate unless they mentioned it in their answer.

The one that isn't like that is "No Interest" because if someone was of the mind that the fashion is called Jirai Kei and said they weren't interested in the other fashions they're in the "Jirai IS the fashion" count, while the people in the "No Interest" count were of the idea that the name of the fashion is not Jirai Kei and is rather Dark Girly Kei so they have their own count.

What role do you think the asssociated fashions play in Jirai Kei? Do you need to wear them to be considered "Jirai" or part of the community?

Again, this has been vastly simplified but I tried really hard not to misunderstand or misrepresent anyone's points. The categories names are a bit strange so let me explain what I mean by them:

‪♡ "No, it's a lifestyle" - This person believes that you do not have to wear the associated fashions to be part of the Jirai Kei community because it is first and foremost a subculture based around mental health and finding people who relate to you that you can talk to about these things. They also tend to believe "Jirai Kei" is the not proper name for the fashion, and that to be part of the Jirai Kei community you must be either mentally ill or at least open and understanding about mental illness. ‪♡ "No, it's both a lifestyle and a fashion" - This person believes that you do not have to wear the associated fashions to be part of the Jirai Kei community. They tend to believe that Jirai Kei is both a lifestyle and a fashion, and you can participate in either the overarching mental health community based around Jirai Kei or the fashion side of things and be accepted either way. This kind of answer tended to imply that both the people looking for a mental health-related safe space and people who just like the fashion are welcome. ‪♡ "Yes, it's both a lifestyle and a fashion" - This person believes you do have to wear the associated fashions to be part of the Jirai Kei community. They tend to believe that Jirai Kei is the proper title for both the mental health subculture and the overarching fashion and you have to participate in both to be considered part of the Jirai Kei community. ‪♡ "Yes, it's a fashion" - This person believes Jirai Kei is a fashion style, if you wear it, you are welcome in the Jirai Kei community.

A few quotes: ‪♡ "the fashion has almost taken over the community, and overshadows its origins." ‪♡ "I don‘t think the Fashion is the central aspect, but it brings people in. It’s historically speaking a part of Jirai Kei, but not the most inportant thing. You can be Jirai and not dress like it." ‪♡ "Yes to be considered Jirai one should wear the clothing of the subculture they are trying to claim. I don’t think you have to branch out into any jirai substyles though if it’s not your vibe." ‪♡ "No if you're a lifestyle jirai, yes if you're a fashion jirai. If you're a lifestyle jirai I think just wanting to be jirai is enough" ‪♡ "i definitely do think that people who dont wear the fashion can be considered jirai, as thats how the word originally got its meaning, though nowadays its definitely more recognized as a fashion style." ‪♡ "It's just a part of the stereotype because a lot of us happen to wear it not because we need to." ‪♡ "it’s such an enormous part of the subculture that leaving out the fashion aspect makes your “landmineness” indistinguishable from a thousand other subcultures." ‪♡ "i think the fashion gave way to helping people who are mentally unwell or don’t feel good find and outlet to feel better, wether it be makeup, or the clothes for me it makes me feel pretty and distracts from the fact i’m depressed. i think just wearing “jirai” as a fashion or style doesn’t necessarily mean you are unwell though, you can participate and be okay in the head lmao, and ofc be in the community. i think the problem lies within the title of jirai. " ‪♡ "i don't think you necessarily NEED to wear them to be jirai, but i think that an interest in them is pretty important because the fashion and aesthetics are closely intertwined with the subculture " ‪♡ "I actually think the biggest thing to a Jirai look is Jirai makeup. I think as long as you have that, then you are Jirai enough. " ‪♡ "While I don't think you have to wear the fashion to be jirai, the fashion does play a big part in the subculture and people need to acknowledge that. " ‪♡ "to an extent, yes you do, but it's more important just to have an interest in them. nobody needs to wear them 24/7 and if you can't afford clothes then it is what it is, but you can't really call yourself jirai if you have no interest in one of the main aspects of the subculture (the aesthetics)" ‪♡ "nah, as long as u wear alternative fashion and know ur shit and participate in the culture ur fine."

Can non-Japanese people be "Jirai"? Why or why not?

Most people said yes (which is kind of to be expected since this is in English and most of the people who answered are not Japanese so I will note this is biased), but a lot of people brought up different points.

Some of the "yes" pool are people who believe Jirai Kei is just a fashion and brought that up as their point. Some of the "yes" pool are people who are more into the mental health side of things and talked about how people in different countries still experience mental struggles and that's something everyone can relate to in their own way.

The "Yes but it's different" pool is mostly comprised of people talking about the mental health aspects of the community and mentioning that although foreigners can be part of the Jirai Kei community, it is important to understand that the things that many Japanese "Jirai"s go through are things that we will not experience due to the differences in our mental health care resources / infrastructure and the infrastructure of the Japanese sex-work industry. Essentially, we can go through really similar things but the overall cultures make it quite different.

Some Quotes: ‪♡ "yes, especially when a trend originally comes from sex work in which non-japanese people living in japan are overrepresented." ‪♡ "Yes, I’ve seen from the pov’s of Japanese landmines and they are open to it because we’re all supposed to be there for each other because nobody else is" ♡ ‪"Yeah, I think they can be, BUT they shouldn't go around acting like they are the template for what a landmine is, or demanding changes to the culture, just because they wear the fashion and/or are mentally ill. It's roots lie in Japan, so the "originals" are still Japanese Jirais" ‪♡ "of course they can ! never did the term refer to exclusively japanese people . even when the initial term " merged " with the toyoko kids , it didn't make it an exclusively japanese term . as long as you fit the " criterias " , you can be a jirai if you choose to label yourself as one ! ♡" ‪♡ "Nowadays I'd like to consider it a fashion style and fashion styles travel all around the world as long as u don't claim to be japanese cause you are wearing jirai you are good. You should also respect and learn the story of the style before u decide to wear it since it's more troubling than other styles." ‪♡ "Very unlikely. There are many factors that would eliminate most people to be "true Jirai kei" ie. experiencing homelessness as well as involved with sex work and host club addiction. Emily from the suburbs who lives with her family and has depression could not be Jirai kei but can partake in the cool fashion. Calling themselves Jirai would not be up to par with the real meaning of it." ‪♡ "Yes. The Japanese jirais don’t seem to disagree so I’m not sure why I would." ‪♡ "yes of course, its important to say that non japanese people often have different issues as japanese people but that doesnt make them less valid meaning they can still use the style as representation of their own issues" ‪♡ "yes and no. if you disregard the fashion and makeup or frame jirai kei as a "menhera" community when its not then you dont really deserve to call yourself a jirai onna. acknowledging that your generally live a better life because of your privilege of being outside of japan. though i can understand calling yourself a jirai onna if you suffer extremely similar problems to that of toyoko kids especially if you suffer from BPD." ‪♡ "Ofc it's clothes" ‪♡ "Yes, of course! Jirai kei is for anyone and I don't see a reason why people can't participate/ want to gatekeep it. I just think it's important to learn about the history and not be a jerk to those who participate in only the lifestyle or only the fashion part."

What does "Jirai Kei" mean to you personally? Why do you associate with the subculture?

I chose to make a word map for this to kind of point towards some of the most repeated words throughout the answers. A lot of these answers are very sad to read (just a heads up before you start going through them), but that is kind of to be expected. Most people mention mental illness and personal struggles with things like EDs, SH, alcoholism, other unhealthy coping mechanisms, or relationship issues. The thing that really stood out to me was that a majority of the people who are of the idea that "Jirai Kei" is the name of the fashion still brought up how the community feels comforting to them because they struggle with mental illnesses and relationship issues. Very few people just said "I like the clothes", most people also mentioned mental struggles in their answers.

I think that's an important thing to note. It really highlights the fact that you never know what someone is going through behind the screen. You only know what they choose to post, and many people choose to post cute outfit photos and things of that nature, but they still can be hurting behind all of that.

A few quotes: ‪♡ "it’s comforting to identify as one and feel like there’s a subculture out there of people who feel similarly to me. everyone connects with the label in different ways" "I like being able to relate with people and have somewhere to post my vents and get things off my chest without judgment" ‪♡ " i was paranoid for not being mentally ill enough for the community, i was absolutely terrified of making jirais mad at me and being rejected. to this day i am terrified of the day when they decide i did not suffer enough to be a jirai. but such a thought is twisted in and of itself, right?" ‪♡ " I love dressing up as fashion is a major coping mechanism for me and I feel delighted at being able to express myself through clothes: it is an art form. Dressing in the subculture's fashions has allowed me to express myself and come to terms with my experiences and who they made me today." ‪♡ "Funny enough my mom calls me a jirai girl (in a derogatory way since she has a typical older japanese person mindset) but i don't mind saying that i am one without shame. especially because i don't believe that my mental illness is something that should be stigmatized and judged. calling myself jirai feels liberating in a way..." ‪♡ "I feel like because I cannot wear the style (not enough money + sizing is difficult) I cannot call myself Jirai kei but I notice others who don’t wear the style call themselves Jirai, which is comforting. I’ve always struggled with mental health for most of my life and I’ve always loved Jfashion subcultures, so obviously I was drawn to Jirai." ‪♡ " i do think people who just wear dark girly kei should be careful when using the term jirai kei if they aren't in the subculture though. i see people say they're jirai and then mock the mentally ill people like?? you aren't jirai you WEAR jirai kei 💀💀 there is a difference!!" ‪♡ "i am also transgender - my girlhood is very important and nostalgic to me but it is also inseparable from dysphoria and sickness, and i think dark girly/jirai fashion helps me to express that." ‪♡ "I found I appreciated the relaxed attitude towards mental health struggles, nightlife activities and a visual indicator that someone might be a little “dangerous” or someone that likes to party." ‪♡ "when I first started, "I want to become cute!" was a big theme I was seeing. I can be cute even though I'm ugly and have bad mental health and it's ok. the style of the clothes is the biggest appeal." ‪♡ "I honeslty really only associate myself with the fashion aspect of it, since it’s something I really love. So instead of calling myself “Jirai”, I like to say I “dress in Jirai” instead." ‪♡ "To me, it's just the clothes. I don't call myself Jirai by itself because it's insulting"

What would you say the pre-requisites to being part of the Jirai Kei community are?

40% of people mentioned mental illness or struggles as a main part of the subculture. There were different approaches to the way that they mentioned it though. Some people were saying "you should be mentally ill since 'Jirai' is an insult used against mentally ill people and the explosive nature is part of the subculture" and others were saying "If you are mentally healthy you should stay away from Jirai Kei to protect yourself because you're going to see triggering things".

Many people said you don't have to be mentally ill to be part of the community, but you should understand that you are going to be interacting with people who are mentally ill and not bully people for venting. Some people said you have to be mentally ill and not wanting or willing to recover to be part of the community (although this was only 3% of people).

On the other hand, about 16% of people said that the only thing you need to do to be part of the community is wear the clothing.

People who mentioned both mental illness and clothing in their answers were divided into 4 different categories: ‪♡ "Mental illness" - they mention the fashion but state is it not a requirement for the community ‪♡ "Wear the fashion" - they may or may not mention mental illness, but do not think it is a requirement for the community ‪♡ "Wear the clothes AND be mentally ill" - they mention both and think both are required for the community ‪♡ "Wear the clothes OR be mentally ill" - they mention both and think you can either participate in the fashion side of things or the mental health side of things, but you don't have to participate in both.

Many people also mentioned doing the makeup as a big part of it. Some of the people who mentioned makeup as a requirement said that even if you don't wear the clothes as long as you do the makeup you're good.

A lot of people also said if you like the clothes or the community or whatever you're all good, so long as you don't bully anyone. Their general vibe was that anyone is welcome to hang out so long as they aren't mean to others. (Many people counted in the "don't be mean to 'fashion' onlys are also counted in the "don't be mean to 'lifestyle' onlys category as well. And as a note a lot of them didn't use those terms specifically I just used them to shorten "people who only wear the clothing" and "people who only participate in the mental health community" because those are looooooooong titles)

There isn't an overarching general consensus. It is very split and debated. (Which we all know). A lot of people were very passionate about their definitions though, which is to be expected. Mental health is a very touchy and personal topic for a lot of people, so people on both sides have really passionate emotions about it.

A few quotes: ‪♡ "i think people who are mentally healthy should stay away from the community; both so they don’t judge those whose thoughts they don’t understand but also for their own protection and comfort. the topics talked about in jirai spaces are triggering and disturbing. i don’t blame, nor judge jirais forthe abusive behavior neurotypicals could accuse them of — it is often not their fault and a mentally healthy person could easily harm a jirai as well. i think such interactions would end up with mutual suffering on each side." ‪♡ " to call yourself a jirai you need to wear the makeup, the clothes, and suffer from some sort of mental illness especially if your livelihood is often threatened by the fact you have these conditions. and its OKAY to not cal yourself a jirai its NOT A GOOD THING to want to be a jirai mentally ill people who call themselves jirai onna are mentally ill and just find comfort in some form by the title." ‪♡ ". i do feel like these are two separate communities with some overlap, especially with the recent western discourse. i don't like these terms as i feel they are a bit harsh but there is a difference between "fashion only jirai" and "lifestyle jirai". of course anyone can appreciate cool clothes but the landmine side of the community deserves a safe space to talk about their issues and relate to each ‪other without uneducated jirai kei wearers bashing them" ‪♡ "i wouldnt say you necessarily have to be struggling mentally to be considered jirai kei, but i dont personally like the way some fashion only jirais negatively talk about the more lifestyle jirais at times. i also however dont think lifestyle jirais should be actively trying to call people out for being a fashion only jirai. it could end up being quite harmful, as you never really know what people are going through." ‪♡ "You may have a mental illness such as BPD which directly links to the “Explosive Landmine” personality. Otherwise it’s fine to just call yourself a Fashion Landmine and only wear Jirai Kei without “being Jirai”." ‪♡ "It really depends on if someone likes the fashion only, identifies as a jirai (landmine person), or both. Someone who likes the fashion may just say they dress in jirai kei clothes. Also, just because someone identifies themselves as a stereotypical jirai and calls themselves just landmine doesn't always mean they wear the fashion either; although it's more common for someone to do both and straight-up call themselves jirai." ‪♡ "being mentally ill (and i mean... cmon a little more than just depression and anxiety because like all of gen z struggles with that((this isn't the mental illness olympics but this is meant to be a safe space for people struggling with more severe illnesses))) and owning like a few coords that isn't that one DML coord that everyone has and wearing the damn makeup" ‪♡ "I think just respecting the community. You don't have to be "mentally ill enough" to join but you do need to respect people no matter their problems and coping mechanisms." ‪♡ "Hot take but if you’re not a Jirai in Japan you’re not a true Jirai and I don’t mean the fashion I’m talking about life choices . You can wear the fashion without having to call yourself a landmine" ‪♡ "there's no requirement, anyone can wear the fashion. it's just clothes."

Do you feel like there is a difference between "Jirai Kei" and "Landmine Kei"?

Most people said no, which is the kind of idea that I had but I wanted to ask because I have seen people use them in different ways. Most of the people who said yes said that in English-speaking circles Landmine is used more to talk about the mental health aspects of things while Jirai is used more when talking about the fashion or overall community. Which I think is interesting. It seems to me that separating Landmine and Jirai is another way that people try to separate the clothing from the mental health community like the distinction people make between Jirai Kei and Dark Girly Kei fashions. (Anything else I have to say here would go into my own opinions so I'm going to leave it at that - it's an interesting thing to think about).

A few quotes: ♡ "i believe there is a difference between simply wearing jirai kei and being a landmine. people in the english speaking community generally use landmine kei to describe the mentally ill side of the community even though jirai literally means landmine. i only see landmine kei used in context of like the fashion mine vs lifestyle mine debate." ♡ "From my experience, I have seen many English speakers misinterpret the term 'Jirai Kei' and water it down to fashion but, of course, that shouldn't represent all of the English-speakers partaking in the discussion." ♡ "Anywho considering Jirai is a direct translation to Landmine, I don’t see how they could be any different." ♡ "I think Landmine Kei is more dressing up as the stereotype and Jirai Kei is the lifestyle that predates the stereotype." ♡ "I feel like calling it landmine kei does alert people more to the mental health side of the subculture"

What is your favourite part of the Jirai Kei Subculture?

This was a combined question "What is your favourite and least-favourite part of the subculture" and most people skipped the favourites part and started just talking about what they hate which did make me a little bit sad. I really liked reading about what people liked in the community.

Most people said the fashion was their favourite part. Both people who said that Jirai Kei is a mental health-based community and people who said Jirai Kei is a fashion-based community brought up fashion as a favourite part of theirs.

"Community" is a very vague thing - in this context, it mostly means they were talking about how they share a lot in common with people in the community whether that be fashion, idols, music, aesthetics, mental health, etc. However, most of the people who mentioned mental health as a main part of why they love the community are counted in "Safe Space" instead.

A few quotes: ♡ "I have dealt with a ton of ableism and med shaming before irl and in other places online, but never in the jirai community. So it makes me happy that I can vent without people treating me like I'm "crazy" or trying to force dramatic changes onto me." ♡ "I love the clothes so much of course so the aesthetic of the fashion is my favorite." ♡ "The clothes of course, I really loved visiting the clothes shops in Japan. People in Japan are really nice about my clothing and often compliment me when I wear Jirai Kei, plus all of the shopgirls are really kind." ♡ "my fav part is the super cute clothes and how u can meet so many other ppl who not only have the same fashion style, but also similiar/same issues/experiences as you, so you can share pretty much anything with no judging at all!!! ^_^" ♡ "I like having a place where I can be open about the reality of my mental illnesses without being bombarded with “solutions”." ♡ "i love wearing cute outfits, seeing other people's codes and seeing other landmines experiences ." ♡ "the fact that people actually understand how i think / feel most of the time , and that i won't get weird looks / i won't be judged for things" ♡ "Most favourite: people identifying each other and bonding over shared experiences (and of course, the fashion)" ♡ "I love the community as a space for people on all lines of recovery to come together and exist without judgement" ♡ "My favorite part of the subculture is blogs, the fact that the people in the community get to share their thoughts & be related to & validated makes me really happy" ♡ "I love how empowering Jirai Kei makes me feel."

What is your least favourite part of the Jirai Kei subculture?

NOTE BECAUSE SOME OF THEM GOT CUT OFF: ‪♡ "People who say you have to be..." is "People who say you have to be mentally ill" ‪♡ "People who use mental illness as an..." is "people who use mental illness as an excuse to be mean" ‪♡ "People who say you have to buy" is "people who say you have to buy certain brands"

The top answer was fashion Jirais. This is a combination of people who specifically said the term "Fashion Jirai" and people who said things like "people who only wear the clothes" or "people who think the community is just cute clothes and ignore the mental illness aspect of it". I combined those into the same count.

"Anti-recovery" as a category is more than just people talking about how recovery isn't front and centre like Menhera, or people talking about venting - it is specifically people who talked about people who say you cannot be in recovery if you are part of the Jirai Kei community.

"Glamorization of Sh/Ed" also is more than just people talking about posts that talk about those things, it is people who specifically said it is over-romanticized / glamourized. And as a note this is different from "lifestyle Jirais" since that category includes people that are just talking about vent posts or mention "lifestyle jirai"s by name.

"Lifestyle Jirais" and "People who don't wear the clothes" are also two different categories, lifestyle jirais is either people who said that by name or were talking about people who vent or think the community is mental-health based, and "people who don't wear the clothes" is just that, it's the people who specifically called that out.

I don't have too much to add here since I can't really add anything here without stating my personal opinions which isn't what I'm trying to do right now. I did find it comforting that most other people are sick of the discourse, and it's both people who think Jirai Kei is fashion-based and people who think Jirai Kei is mental health-based that were saying this.

A few quotes: ♡ "But there are legit people on here who act like you're 'fake' if you aren't attempting suicide every hour or something lmao" ♡ "i'm sick of sharing my safe space with people who think it's just a pink blouse and some short skirts and a bow." ♡ "putting a label on jirai that you have to act a certain way seems wrong. some rules and bashing on other girls wanting to wear the fashion is very wrong too." ♡ "i’m simply utterly terrified of rejection." ♡ "My least favorite would probably have to be those who promote self harm or say you have to engage in some sort of dangerous stuff to be a part of the subculture. While many of us do struggle with these things, it's super unnecessary to push people (mostly the fashion only jirai keis) to harm themselves." ♡ "least fav is that there are a lot of gatekeepers who want you to prove that you're actually mentally ill or they turn it into a competition of who's suffering the most. I also don't like how many jirai are anti recovery if someone chooses to recover (not forced, but their own choice). and I don't like that there are some really young kids in the community, like 13 and under" ♡ "I hate the people who slap a random pink shirt on and a black mini skirt and call it jirai because it’s not. Jirai is so much more than pink and black." ♡ "least fav is probably the fact how some ppl will say the most vile shit ever and use the fact that theyre a jirai as an excuse (it can always be a reason for said behavior, but never an excuse!! 😭😭)" ♡ "fashion "jirais". i don't like discourse at all , but i really wish people would understand the whole point of jirai kei before calling themselves a landmine :(" ♡ "the least, however, are the people who say you "dont need to be mentally ill to call yourself jirai" which is just ridiculous" ♡ "I don't like the narrative that we have to buy from the original designer or it's not Jirai, that's just buying into what the fashion industry wants you to think. A fashion is a style, not a designer brand. Quite frankly I just don't like being limited to certain brands." ♡ "Constant discourse (assuming that people can't resonate with the subcul just because they're not as vocal about their experiences as the others PLUS the bullying of actual people who struggle for venting when that is the core of this subcul)" ♡ "i wish it was more mature because many jirai people are in their early teens (12-14) and i feel the need to act as a role model in spaces that include minors, rather than speaking freely as i would normally among people closer to my age" ♡ "least favourite: weird gatekeeping (eg. "you can't wear jirai kei because you're not mentally ill""), shaming peoples looks and fatshaming in general" ♡ "My least favorite is the ones who say you have to be anti-recovery to be jirai. It's okay to be tired of hurting." ♡ "i detest the infighting, and the way that it's rapidly growing is kind of pissing me off because im more comfortable in smaller communities" ♡ "As for least favourite, glorification of ED and SH (I must note, glorification, not just the fact people discuss/have it in the community) as well as the fatphobia and such"

Overall very interesting read and very mixed responses, but also not actually as mixed as I thought they would be. Most people landed somewhere in the middle where they considered both fashion and mental health to be parts of the subculture and just had different levels of importance for those two things. Most people also did mention mental health being part of their reasoning for being here, whether they engage more in the fashion side of things or the mental health side of things.

If there are any clarifying questions about what the titles of things in these graphs really mean or why I chose to break things down in the way that I did I am more than happy to provide clarification to that! I'll try to respond to any comments like that as soon as I can. I won't be engaging in discourse or defending any points or anything (at least not here) - this is more about the answers to the survey and not my personal opinions so pls understand T-T.

If you read all that mess thank you! Took me a while to actually get all of this compiled. If you didn't thank you regardless! Especially if you responded in the survey to begin with ♡

Also if anyone is uncomfortable with their answer being posted in the answers document please contact me either on Tumblr @jiraisupportgroup or on Reddit @ Mara-melody (DMs should be open on both) with the details about which response was yours and I will delete it from the publicly available document! Thank you!!

[soggyriceee]

I don’t know if you did this yet but can you do when Konig give the reader aphrodisiac and see what it ends up fem reader please and thank you I been reading your page all day!<3❤️🫶🏽

take a bite | Konig

warnings: strong language, oral (f and m!recieving), unprotected p in v. desperate Konig

summary: request

"I do not like chocolate, maus." he scoffed, ignoring your hand reaching for him to take the chocolate piece.

you pouted, sitting back on the couch. your friends had brought up this special sex chocolate at a lunch you all had together. it intrigued you. not because the sex was bad. it was amazing. but your already amazing sex would turn into even better sex. and who doesn't want that?

"please. just a piece and thats it. I bought it special for us." you begged, waving it in his face. he looked away from the YouTube shorts on his phone and into your eyes. " maus. are you trying to give me an edible right now?" he asked bluntly, placing his phone down on the couch.

laughing, you shook your head. "no no I swear. I wouldn't just drug you jeez. but its special important chocolate. from my friends home country. she shipped some out and I wanna try it with you." you lied, fluttering your lashes.

for a moment he was silent, looking at the chocolate and then you. "if you drug me im calling the cops. seriously." he said, taking the chocolate out of your hand. "okay but dont take such a big- okay." before you could finish the sentence, Konig managed to snap a pretty decent sized chuck off and pop it in his mouth. you were sure that he wasn't supposed to take that big a piece. but, you wanted to see how this would play out.

"its okay.. tastes like regular chocolate. nothing is special about this." he shrugged, handing you back the chocolate bar. you're too stunned to really say anything, so mindlessly you watched him digest the entire thing and go back to his phone. "aftertaste is kinda gross." he randomly commented.

it was silent for about 10 minuets, Konig giggling at a video every now and then. you began to think it wasn't going to really work and of course, you got a bit sad and annoyed. just as you were about to give up, Konig put his phone down, adjusting his pants. " its.. hot." he said, looking over to you. you relaxed in the couch, nodding. "I-i'm fine... not too hot." you said.

his eyes scanned your body, stopping at your breasts. "you sure? you have a hoodie on.." he said, eyes moving back up to yours. okay, it was definitely working now. you blushed slightly, shifting on the couch. "I know but.. im just a bit cold." you said, looking away from his eyes.

immediately his boner caught your eye, it was practically standing straight up in his sweats. you didnt miss the wet spot where his tip, his pre cum leaking through his pants. "want me to warm you up?" he breathed out. his body moved closer to you, eyes still staring into yours. you swallowed, watching how he got closer. before you knew it, you were being pulled onto his lap.

he groaned, pressing himself onto your clothes cunt. "what did you do to me maus.." he breathed out, his hands already moving for the inside of your shorts. giggling, you pushed his hand away. " I didnt do anything.. im too tired anyways. can you wait for me to wake up from my nap?" you smiled, moving to get off his hips.

but he pulled you back, hand gripping your chin. " dont play with me right now.. you did something to me huh? tell me.” he demanded, taking his other hand down his pants, pulling his member out. his tip was a bright red, pre cum leaking out. he was throbbing. painfully.

you couldn’t help the small whimper that came from you, your eyes moving back up to his. “if you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask.” he mumbled, his hands now moving up your sweater. he immediately felt your lack of a bra, chuckling to himself. his fingered rolled your already hard nipples between his fingers, pinching and pulling the sensitive nubs gently.

“i-i didn’t think.. it was a-“ you were cut off by your own whimper when Konig slapped your nipple, a painfully good feeling. “don’t like to me libe.. i know you wanted this to happen. wanted me to get all worked up to the point I grow desperate for you, hmm?” he said softly, going back to playing with your nipples.

as much as you loved this, you needed more. you began to move your hips against his thigh, whimpering at the friction in your clit while his fingers kept playing with your nipples. and despite you thinking he’d stop you, hold your hips down, he began to bounce his leg instead.

“come on rub that pussy on me.” he whispered, pulling your hoodie up and off you. your hard nipples found their way into his warm mouth, his tongue tracing the shape of them. his teeth pulled them gently, only making your moans louder for him. your hands found his shoulders as you picked up the pace of your hips, your head falling back.

Konig kept bouncing his leg, praising you and telling you how beautiful you looked riding his thigh, occasionally grinding his hard on. “K-Konig i’m so close.” yoh whimpered, holding the back of his head while his mouth sucked on your nipples. He didn’t expect it, neither did you. but with those words, your nipple in his mouth and your pretty whimpers, Konig felt himself cum right then and there. it was new to him, cumming without being touched. he’s done it in wet dreams, woken up with his dick wet with his own cum. but never while he was awake had he done this.

it was that stupid chocolate. well, he couldn’t say stupid. he actually liked being this horny. “f-fuck.. please live cum on my thigh. want your cum stained on my pants please.” he begged, his hands finding your hips to move them faster, his leg bouncing to meet the pace.

your eyes saw the cum on the bottom of his shirt, his tip still leaking his cum. it was that sight alone that made your orgasm hit you, your body shaking on his. your head fell into his neck, crying out his name as he continued the abuse on your sensitive clit. “K-Konig please~” you cried out, trying to stop him from moving you. but he couldn’t.

his breathing was rapid, eyes on your face twisting with pleasure and pain. “one more libe.. please” he begged, picking up the pace of you hips. your hands found his chest, gripping his shirt as your second orgasm worked it’s way through your shuddering body. your head fell into his neck, eyes squeezed shut. it was embarrassing how fast your second orgasm came, honestly. but with his desperation it was like you ate a piece yourself.

you had barely any time to get over your orgasm before you were being shoved to the floor. “open.” was all he said before dipping his fingers in your mouth, pulling your jaw open. his dripping dick slid right in your mouth, his tip down your throat. you gagged at the sudden feeling, loosing your balance on the floor. groaning, his hand found your shoulder, pulling you to sit upright. his hips didn’t wait to move back and forth in your mouth, your saliva coating his member.

his head tilted back, mouth opening. “mhm.. fuck libe your mouth is so.. so warm.” he moaned, his other hand finding the back of your head. this allowed him to move his hips faster, your hands finding his knees to keep your balance. your watery eyes looked up to look at his pleasured face, realizing the chocolate made any touch to him sensitive.

you took that opportunity to take one hand up to his balls, massaging them. he hissed, body leaning forward. “g-god.. keep doing that.” he moaned, moving your head back and forth faster, his body hunched over you.

pre cum leaked out his tip, the salty taste coating your tongue. drool coated his length and balls, your hand as well. it was all too much for him and no matter how hard he tried to hold it back, he couldn’t stop his warm load coating your throat. he gave you no verbal warning either, his whimpers enough of a warning for you.

his toes curled beside you, pulling the carpet while his hands pressed you down on his length. “f-fuck..” he breathed out, his back slightly arching up as he shot the rest of his cum into your mouth. looking up at him, you slowly moved your head back and forth, hands gently palming his balls.

never had Konig really came that fast from head. he was very good at holding out, it was something you really liked about him. it allowed for you to finish before he did. but the chocolate was no help in his usual routine, the realization of that hitting him.

his eyes looked down at you, mouth stuffed with him. “i.. hate you and that stupid.. stupid chocolate.” he muttered, sliding himself out your mouth. and to his own surprise, he was semi hard. the sight of your saliva and his cum on his length made him grow harder, your eyes watching as his member lifted in your face.

smirking, you gripped the base of him, slapping it on your face. he groaned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “fuck.. come on libe don’t do that.” he whined, pulling your arm. he needed to be inside you. now. and your teasing made it incredibly hard for him to not shove you on the floor and pound into you.

you smiled up at him, pulling away from him. before you could even process what you wanted to say, you were being lifted onto the couch, stomach pressed flat on the back of the couch, knees spread on the cushions. his hand pressed on your back, pressing you into the couch more. behind you, he positioned his tip at your sloppy hole, rubbing it up and down.

“wanted to see how i’d be with the chocolate hm? didn’t think i fucked you well enough, hm?” he muttered, leaning down to your ear. his tongue slid down your neck, his lips sucking in your skin. you whimpered at the feeling, your eyes squeezing shut. “could handle what i gave you?” he teased, pressing his tip alone into you.

your hips tried to push back, take him all in. but his hips were much faster, pulling away from you. “no no no.. you don’t get to be desperate libe.. your going to be patient tonight. only fair for making me so desperate, hm?” he cooed, rubbing the curve of your ass.

despite how hot this was, Konig being desperate for you and all, it was quickly becoming into a bad thing. it was like all the sexual needs that Konig had, the desperation was all being transferred over to you. and that chocolate wasn’t worn off. not even close. his member pulsed as it rested against your ass, his hands trailing up and down your body. he was doing it on purpose. but as much as he wanted to tease you, he couldn’t wait too long before he was inside you.

your body jerked against the back of the couch, a silent scream coming from you as he shoved all of himself inside you. a breathy whimper came from the tall man behind you, his fingers pressing into your hips. your hands found the back of the couch, clutching onto it desperately. he didn’t waste any time sliding in and out of your cunt, and he was groaning with every thrust.

his hands found the bottom of your back, pushing it down. and as much as that angle did hurt in a way, you couldn’t help but whimper as he pounded into you. “f-fuck libe your so wet.” he whimpered, his head tilting back.

you managed to slam your hips back onto him, matching his pace. but unfortunately for you, that only made him move his hips quicker, not allowing you to keep up with him. “come on maus.. bounce back on me i know you can d..do it.” he teases, gripping a chunk of your ass in his palms.

he dragged your back and forth on his cock, his eyes rolling back. his balls slapped loudly against your clit, adding only more pleasure to you. “o-oh Koni~” you cried out, struggling to keep your own balance. his hand founds it’s way between your thighs, fingers dancing with your clit. “so s-swollen hm.. needed to be fucked so bad didn’t you?” he groaned, picking up his pace.

Konig felt himself twitch inside you once, then twice before he came for the third time that night. his legs shook, hands gripping onto your hips instead now to keep himself up. he hated how quickly this chocolate was making him come. a lot. but he loved how good it felt even more than he hated it. and you did too.

he slid out, watching his cum drop down your pussy to the couch below. he sat beside you, pulling you onto his lap. “ride me.” he demanded, positioning you above his still hard cock, pushing you down and giving you no time to prepare. your head fell into the crook of his neck as his hands worked your hips up and down his shaft.

“fuck that’s it.. take it.. oh take it libe.” he groaned, thrusting himself up into you, matching the pace he set for you. despite you being on top , you rarely ever did any actual work. Konig was always persistent on doing a lot of the work. it was the rare occasion you’d be the one taking control. and in those moments you did like it of course. but you liked being taken care of/used relentlessly even more.

“s-so good Koni.. i’m getting close.” yoh whimpered out, starting to move your hips for yourself now instead. he grunted in your ear, his right hand dinging it’s way to the nape of your neck, tugging the hair. “do it then.. cum on my cock.” he moaned, “i know you can do it.”

those words of encouragement were truly all you needed before you were creaming on him, clutching onto him while pathetic cries left your wet lips. but he didn’t stop. no. why would he? his hips continued to drill into you from beneath you, his eyes never leaving your face as it twisted into overstimulation. you were shocked by how much he was still going. how he still had so much momentum. but you weren’t complaining in the slightest.

“one more.. need one more.” he moaned, slowing his pace until he was stopped, sliding out and laying you on your back. “wanna see your face from here when you cum for me again.” he whispered.

at this point your legs were pure jello. Konigs too. you both only had this many rounds when either of you were gone for work for a while. but you went complaining of course. this IS what you wanted. and you were more than satisfied with the outcome.

his pace was anything but slow, his tip hitting right at your womb. tears couldn’t help but pool in your eyes, the pleasure becoming far too much to take. “k-koni it’s too.. too much.” you whined, your nails digging into his shoulders. he grunted above you, panting as his thrusts became deeper and faster. “take it, fucking.. take it.” he groaned, dipping his head into your neck, biting the skin.

you whimpered at the mixed feeling of pleasure and pain, your nails dragging down his back. “mhm.. mark me up libe.. fucking mark me.” he moaned, pulling away from you to look at the dark purple mark left on your skin. his hands took your thighs, pulling you closer to him and propping them on his shoulders. of course, this position allowed him to get deeper inside you, making your cries louder.

your pussy pulsed around him, his dick twitching inside you. his hands gripped your hips, moving faster in and out your dripping cunt. “so.. close. i cant.” yoh cried out, trying to take your legs from his shoulders. but as soon as you did so he pushed deep inside you, your body jerking up. another cry came from you, your legs shaking painfully.

“you can do it libe.. j-just come with me.” he moaned, his breathing picking up. he wasn’t gonna be able to hold it. not with how wet and tight you were around him. and it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. not in your eyes.

his hand found your clit, fingers rubbing on the swollen wet bundle of nerves with pure desperation. he needed one more time to feel you cum around him, then he’d be satisfied for the night. “i know you can do it just c-cum for me.” he said, looking down into your eyes.

you both held eye contact, watching each others orgasms build up. it was truly one of the more romantic things you and Konig did during sex. and you both ate it up every time. and it was always one of the many things that got you to finish around him.

before you could even get the words out, you felt your legs go numb and your vision go out as your cum shot out all over his dick and lower abdomen, tears falling from your face. “that’s it just like that.. such a g-good.. fucking.. girl.” he moaned, each word accompanied with a powerful thrust. you felt him twitch inside you moments before his hot cum shot inside you, his body shaking before collapsing on you.

you both didn’t know exactly how, or when it happened. but you woke up hours later in bed, Konigs arms wrapped tightly around you. you were assuming he had woken up and moved you both to the room, passing out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

you never left the bed that night. only staying on your phone, listening to his calm breathing and occasionally German mumbling.