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yuwuta · 8 months ago

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JUST KEEP LOVING ME THE WAY I LOVE YOU LOVING ME — SATORU GOJO

pairings. satoru gojo/reader

content, warnings. non-curse au, doctor au (reader), ceo au (satoru), no real content warnings, fluff, satoru is nothing but a romantic at heart

word count. 3k

notes. this exists in the post-completion au of a larger universe/incomplete fic of mine, that i will hopefully finish someday lololol but this is way easier to write than that so here you go 🥳

“There are four chairs worth a collective seventy-five hundred dollars in this office, so, pray, tell, why is your ass on my desk?”

Satoru grins at your words, too distracted by taking in the sight of you to take into consideration the underlying threat. It’s been far too long, almost three whole days since he’s last seen you and, god, you look good. He knows if he said that you’d roll your eyes and insist that there’s nothing good-looking about your worn-in business attire and lab coat that was in desperate need of laundering, but it wouldn’t change his opinion: you always look good, and Satoru really fucking missed you.

Which is why he doesn’t say the words, but makes sure to throw a deceivingly charming wink your way so that you get the message anyway. As expected, you still roll your eyes, but he doesn’t mind; you look good doing that, too.

“Seriously, Satoru, what are you doing here?” you question, closing the door behind you when you fully step into the room. You make pace towards your desk, attempting to get to the other side, but this is exactly why Satoru chose to lean against it instead of sitting on any one of your very expensive and comfortable chairs—because this way, he’s in the perfect position to intercept your path and pull you to fit neatly between his legs before you can even think about reaching your office chair and ignoring him.

He pulls you by the loop of your lab coat, but his hands quickly find their way to your shoulders, unpeeling the white layer just enough so that your blouse is exposed to him, and he can slowly rub his palms against your arms and shoulders with just enough pressure to hopefully release some tension. You won’t let go of all of it, but that’s alright, because Satoru’s got other methods for taking care of you.

“Hi,” he calls, smiling gently down at you, “I missed you.”

This close, Satoru can see the exhaustion clearly in your eyes. There’s more, too: frustration, guilt, worry—and it takes everything in him not to coo and pull you into his chest and do his best to shield you from the world forever.

There’s a beat before you speak, a small sigh, that’s quickly painted over with a tired smile and a remorseful, “I missed you, too. I’m sorry for being so short, the interim chief has been getting on my last nerves, and—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Satoru cuts in, leaning forward to press a reassuring kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax under his touch. “I know you’re busy. I just missed you.”

It’s not easy to share you with anything or anyone, but Satoru knows that even on the hardest days, you love your job, and that so many people need your brilliant mind. What he does mind is when people make your job harder than it needs to be, and he’s been getting an earful about this new interim chief from just about everybody—you, Kento, Yuuji, Ieiri, even some of your favorite scrub nurses have indulged him in the gossip about the newest common enemy—and he doesn’t appreciate that someone is putting extra stress on his baby. So, even if it is a makeshift massage in your office and distracting you from your paperwork, Satoru will do what he can to help you relieve tension.

You reach your arms to wrap them around his shoulders, taking a half step closer to him, peering up at him. Satoru loves when your arms are around his neck like this; he can’t quite pinpoint why—maybe it’s the way you have to crane your neck to look up at him, the way you’re perfectly nestled under his view, the feeling of being wrapped in you. He does his best to close the loop of your intimacy, resting his hands on the small of your back and pulling you impossibly closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax into his touch.

“You’re sweet,” you smile, rubbing your thumb against the shorter hairs at the back of his head. Satoru feels himself melt into you, too. It’s been too long since you’ve been this close, three whole days too long. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, baby,” he smiles, stealing a gentle kiss. Satoru loves this the most, loves the feeling of your lips on his—and it’s definitely been too long since he’s kissed you, so he makes sure to do it again, and once more after that for good measure.

But it’s not enough. He’ll have to take you home, sit you on the couch so he can kiss you all night and make up for the lack of kisses and touches and youness he’s been deprived of these past few days. But first, he’ll have to pull you away from your work, and that’s not easy work.

“Come home,” he muses, leaning his forehead against yours, “We can order in, and share your favorite bottle of wine, and watch a movie.”

You lean up to kiss him briefly. “Every time we share a bottle of wine, we end up making out and not watching anything.”

“Do we?” Satoru feigns innocence, “I never noticed. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, though.”

“Satoru,” you whisper, quiet but firm, with a smile that lets him know you want to, but you can’t. It’s a tone that Satoru knows all too well, and isn’t particularly fond of. “I have charts to finish.”

“Finish them tomorrow,” he steals another kiss, “Or pawn them off on Kento,” another kiss, “Or Yuuji. Residents always need more experience—isn’t that what you and Ieiri always say?”

You let him kiss you again, and again, and again. Each time a little longer, a little warmer, a little less innocent than the last, growing from a little, to a lot, to all-consuming. Satoru hums when he feels your nails raking through his hair; an unfortunate move, as the sound pulls you back to reality and away from him in a decrescendo of kisses.

“You’re really good at that,” you laugh, voice soft.

“At kissing?” Satoru dips his head down to taste your laughter against his lips, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice with a very pretty girl.”

“No,” and you’re laughing again, louder this time, and Satoru counts every little giggle as a victory, “You’re good at... seducing me without saying you’re seducing me.”

“Oh, that?” he grins, tucking his pointer and index finger under your chin to meet you in a knowing kiss, “Yeah, that’s a talent of mine, too.”

You let him steal one more, and Satoru doesn’t take it for granted. “Come home,” he whispers against your lips before slotting them in yet another kiss, “I miss you.”

And he can feel it when you finally break, sighing into the kiss, and melting into his touch completely. One more, he just needs one more kiss to seal the deal, and then—“Fine,” you concede, “But I get to choose where to get dinner from.”

“Of course, sweets, whatever you want,” Satoru grins, pulling back to kiss your forehead again, “Now—shall we? If we order in the car, we can probably pick it up on our way home.”

He’s in the home stretch now, but he’s not completely free: if you catch a glimpse of your work, or someone comes in to find you, or your godforsaken pager beeps then all of his plans could come crumbling down before him. The key to transitioning from the “you’ve agreed to come home with him early stage”—if you can count 9:45pm, coming off of a 17-hour work day as early—to the “we are actually leaving this hospital and nobody can stop us phase” is swiftness. This time period is critical, and Satoru is ready for the sprint.

He shimmies your lab coat all the way off of your body for you, checking for the weight of your pager in your right pocket, before hanging it on the back of your chair. He shoos you to grab your coat, and makes sure you don’t get within three feet of this side of your desk—taking your purse out of your locked drawer and closing an open file folder in the time it takes you to slip out of your heels and into your sneakers, and by the time you’re turning back around, Satoru is already there next to you, with your purse in one hand, and his other hovering on the light switch.

He makes sure you’re out the door first, and flickers off the light with a satisfied grin. His baby was coming home early with him, and there is nothing else he’d rather do than spend time pampering you.

You must truly be more tired than you know, because you make no protest when he slings an arm over your shoulder on your way out of the elevator. Usually, you chastise him for any PDA within hospital walls, but tonight you let it be, even leaning some of your body weight against his as you walk. Satoru’s not complaining at all, maybe he’ll try his luck and sneak a kiss on your cheek.

He decides to go for it, leaning over for a kiss, when you suddenly pull away, turning and patting against your side. Confused, and disappointed, Satoru pouts, “We’ve really got to work on this fear of affection you’ve got going on, sweets. It’s the leading cause of makesatorupout-itis.”

“We’ve been over this—you can’t just add “itis” to the end of your words to make them diagnostic,” you giggle, “I was looking for my keys.”

Satoru’s frown deepens. “You have the fancy reserved doctor parking space, they can’t tow you. So, we can take my car home.”

“No, we cannot, because I do not trust you to wake up and drive me back tomorrow morning.”

“Then I’ll get you a cab in the morning, or—even better, I’ll call Ichiji to pick you up.”

“Ichiji is still in Paris,” you remind him. Satoru purses his lips. He did ask Ichiji to stay with Megumi. Damn it.

“I have other cars, you can drive one of them in the morning.”

“And park it where?”

“In your fancy reserved doctor parking—oh, okay I see the flaw there,” Satoru pulls back. You find amusement in his disappointment, but he doesn’t think there’s anything funny here.

He shakes his head. He should have taken a cab from his office, but this is okay, a minor setback, nothing he can’t think around. “New plan: we take your car, and I’ll come by to get mine tomorrow. Easy peasy.”

“Yours will be towed by then.”

“That’s fine,” Satoru shrugs, “I can afford a tow fee.”

“Satoru,” you call, reaching your free hand up to place your palm against his cheek, “We both drive home. It’ll be thirty minutes, tops. Forty if there’s traffic, but if you stop pouting and we leave now, we should be fine.”

Satoru sighs. He knows that’s the most reasonable plan of action, but the simple truth is that he doesn’t want to be away from you right now, even to go the short distance home. He’s already spent the last few days without you, and even though this is calling it in early for you, he only gets maybe four hours awake with you before you’re off again. Thinking about that makes him miss you again already. Pathetic, maybe, but he doesn’t care.

“Oh, Dr. (_____), hey!” Yuuji’s voice is an easily distinguishable interruption to your petty argument, and Satoru’s sulking, “Perfect timing—I’m glad I caught you before you left. Is it okay if I ask you to sign something before you go?”

You easily warm up to the younger boy and agree, fondly making conversation with Yuuji as he scrolls through some documents on his tablet. And just as you’ve finished scribbling your signature along the screen, Satoru has a bright idea.

“Hey, Yuuji, you can drive right?” Satoru questions rhetorically, already reaching for his wallet and car keys, “Great! Here’s two grand, it’s all yours if you drive this car home tonight.” Satoru smiles widely, shoving his keys and some cash into the pocket of Yuuji’s white coat.

“What—really? Awesome! But, why—”

Satoru dismisses his disbelief with a wave of his hand. He steps a bit closer to Yuuji, just enough to lean into his ear and tuck a couple more bills into his pocket, “And between you and me, that’s an extra three grand if you finish up a couple of charts for my lady so she can sleep in tomorrow. Not a bad deal, right?”

“Sure, no problem!” Yuuji salutes, “I’d do anything for Dr. Almost-Gojo. Plus, if I’m busy working for her, then I don’t have to babysit cells in a dish for Dr. Gakuganji.”

“Atta boy,” Satoru ruffles his hair, “Catch you later, Yuuji, I’ve got a hot date to get to. And tell Nanamin I say hello!”

You elbow Satoru shallowly, a silent warning to keep his voice down, and a verbal chastising of, “It’s Dr. Itadori and Dr. Nanamin to you.”

“More like Dr. Nanameanie,” Satoru laments, resuming the position of his arm around your shoulder, “I’ve left him six calls this week! He’s so cruel—he knows I have to leave next week and he’s depriving me of one on one time. I think I’m gonna have to sneak into his office at lunch tomorrow and confront him.”

Despite his crass words and dramatics, you laugh, and so, Satoru smiles. He finally gets that cheek kiss right as you two reach your car, bending down to plant one for you at the same time he steals your keys from your hand and banishes you to the passenger seat. He’s not much of a driver himself, despite his excess amount of cars, but you’re his baby and you deserve to be driven around no matter the case, but especially when you’ve spent all day taking care of other people.

Plus, on days like this, if he’s real careful and smooth, you fall asleep in the car and he gets to carry you inside. He makes that his goal for the next thirty minutes, and he succeeds in twenty, confirmed by your soft snores just as he pulls into the curbside pick-up spot of your favorite restaurant. He retrieves the take-out as quietly as possible, before making the rest of the journey home, taking the time to glance over at you during red lights.

Satoru loves the way you look when you’re asleep, loves to see you well-rested, but something even more dear to him than that is a fact that Nanami let slip in the aftermath of a dinner party he’d hosted about a year after you two had started dating: “She never sleeps outside of her bed, for as long as I’ve known her,” he muses, nodding to your sleeping figure on Satoru’s couch, “Not even in the on-call rooms during our 72 hour shifts. She must... she must really trust you, Satoru.”

(He also recalls the awfully strong grip on his shoulder and subsequent shovel talk Kento gave him a moment later. Not that Satoru ever had anything but pure intentions with you, but the threat of breaking Kento’s best friend’s heart was more than enough to keep his commitments in check).

Satoru peers at you fondly in his arms, held bridal style with the takeout in the grip of a pinky finger, glancing up only to nod and thank his doorman for pushing the penthouse button for him. Satoru prides himself on many things, but the one thing he always holds in his highest regards is you: call him cocky, but he thinks he’s quite good at caring for you, that there’s nobody else fit to look after you the way that he can; and knowing that you feel safe in his arms is the highest honor he could achieve in this life.

He sets you carefully on the couch once he steps inside the apartment, and places the food on the coffee table. He debates whether or not he should wake you up now; he hates to, but he knows you need to eat, and, selfishly, he wants to cash in on those few hours he has with you to hear your voice.

He’ll dish out the food first, and then wake you up to eat, he decides. He leans down to kiss the crown of your head, eyes flicking to your face, and pausing at your neck, where your engagement ring rests crookedly against your skin. You must have had an emergency surgery today, he thinks; your schedule for today was originally just to round on post-op patients and attend some meetings, but you knot the ring into your chain when you have to scrub into the operating room.

Carefully, Satoru reaches to undo it from the chain, and slips it back onto your ring finger. It looks pretty against your skin when it’s around your neck, but personally, he thinks it looks best this way, the sparkle of the aquamarine against the halo of diamonds fits perfectly across the width of your finger, just the way he had it made to be.

Satoru bends down even further to kiss the back of your hand, before laying it to rest on your stomach. He might need to bribe Yuuji to take care of some more work for you, you two really should get a move on that wedding planning, and you’re going to need at least a week off to fly and visit his grandma’s pastry shop in Osaka for cake tasting.

He smiles at the thought. He doesn’t feel so bad about waking you up now—wedding talk seems like the perfect way to end the evening if you ask him; there would be no sweeter sound than hearing how you imagine the start of the rest of your lives to be.

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unriding · 2 months ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 15 — IN UNIFORM. kuroo tetsurou x f! maid cafe! reader ﾉ there’s about five minutes left on the clock before your coworker comes back.

CONTAINS — semi-public sex, choking (not quite, but just to be safe ^^), squirting, traces of exhibitionism, reader wears a cat costume (but it’s just ears!)

ᘏ explicit smut (18+) — link to sign up for my taglist & to view mlist!

Closing doesn’t typically take you this long. Though it makes sense, seeing as how your shifts lately have been anything but typical. It never is whenever Kuroo decides to pay you a visit.

Actually, it hasn’t been just ‘typical’ ever since the night Kuroo found out about your work. You’ve brought it up to him a couple times, vaguely, before the two of you had officially started dating. Never explicitly. Maybe that’s why he was so intrigued as soon as he saw your uniform in your washer.

“A maid, huh?”

It’s never been the same since then. On some days, he has the time to visit you. Requests that the ‘pretty girl over there’ help him out, and laughs when you’re shoving a menu into his hands with an embarrassed huff. Seeing you like this never seems to get old to him. Sometimes, he’ll tug on your dress to ask for a quick photo to commemorate— like a fan meeting their lifelong idol.

And on other days, your wrists are pinned behind your back— only one big hand needed to hold you still as he fucks you over the same table you served him at only an hour ago. Such as tonight.

“I was almost finished here,” your voice trails off into a breathless sigh when he bottoms out, “y-you’re always so impatient.”

You only hear him sheepishly laugh from above. “Sorry, sorry. Couldn’t wait until you finished up. Not when you had on such a cute costume today.”

Your cheeks heat up through a glare. Cat ears. You remember telling him not to visit you today for this exact reason. Of course, a part of you was already expecting for him to clear his schedule as soon as he caught a glimpse of the embarrassed look in your eyes.

That’s why when he finally came through the doors with a cheeky grin, you weren’t surprised in the slightest. Though it didn’t make serving him as a cat any less embarrassing.

“Someone could see us like this…!” Each word that leaves your mouth comes out unsteady from how deep he reaches inside you with each thrust. It’s a bit hard to breathe— and you’re not sure if it’s because of the heat flooding your cheeks, or if it’s from the way you think you might be feeling him in your stomach.

“Yeah? Let’s hope no one decides to pay my favorite maid a visit an hour after closing,” he lets go of your hands only to loop his arms around your chest and hug you tight against himself, “because you’re already busy. With me, that is.” You feel his lips tug into a smile.

“No. Not that…my coworker— ‘s coming back. I-I could get in.. trouble…!”

Your coworker? He didn’t hear about this. “..Eh? You’re not closing alone today?” Kuroo slows down a bit, chuckling when you whine at the change in pace.

“No,” you push your hips back against Kuroo, trying to urge him to continue anyway, but he slows down more at this, much to your dismay. “I think…. she’ll be back in five minutes. Five minutes max. So…”

A challenge. He understands right away. “Ah, ah, I get it. How mean of you. Only a few minutes?” There’s a teasing lilt in his voice, as if not concerned in the slightest about the time crunch. You know he isn’t.

His fingers dip down and ghost over your clit a second after and your hips buck, a loud whimper slipping out that makes the both of you freeze in place. “Then… better be a bit quieter than that, yeah? We should hurry. I’ll make it quick. Promise.”

“So you,” your mouth falls open when he pulls out, thickness dragging perfectly against your walls until only the tip is inside, and then he slams back inside in one rough movement— ripping a loud gasp from your lungs. “..Just have to hold tight and take it.”

You don’t even get a chance to respond.

Not when he sets such a brutal pace against you as soon as the words leave his mouth. He has your body mapped out, each sensitive spot inside you ingrained in his head and he finds it with ease— only smiles to himself when your hands desperately scramble to grasp onto the table in a weak attempt to keep yourself grounded.

You have to take it all, take every inch of him even when your legs start to tremble and buckle beneath him like clockwork. “Looks like I’m doing good with time,” he laughs, two big hands coming to hold your hips— keep you up for him so he can have his way with you, “aren’t I? Doing so good for me. Keep letting me win this, okay?”

A strained moan is all you can respond with. Not even a snarky comment that you wish you could manage to get out. Kuroo thinks you might be trying to moan out his name, and maybe something along the lines of “too rough!” as well.

A very normal thing for you to say when you’re close. Only means he’s doing good. The hold around your hips tightens, each drag of his cock making it that much harder for you to stay quiet and even harder to fight the tightening knot growing in your core.

The thought of your coworker overhearing the two of you briefly crosses your mind, but you can’t find it in yourself to want to stop. He feels so good— surely she wouldn’t mind. She would understand if she was in your shoes. You’re certain of this.

One hard thrust directly into your spot pushes you over the edge. Your eyes go wide as soon as the knot in your belly abruptly snaps— nails digging into the wood of the table and a loud cry you know you’ll regret later slips out.

“Oh, there she is,” Kuroo’s hand loops underneath you, lands on your throat and pulls you until your back is flush against his chest. “Let me make it a good one.”

He reaches deeper with the angle. You choke on your own voice, hands frantically moving to push against him to ease the stretch and rid of this weird feeling, but you’re not fast enough. “T-Tetsu— ‘s deep!” You yelp, eyes slamming shut before you suddenly start gushing.

You can tell he’s smiling even when you collapse back onto the table with heavy pants. Can tell he’s amused with the way you shift your weight under your arms instead of your legs. “You…..” your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath, “…made me squirt.”

“Just proof that I won, kitten.” He leans down, resting his elbows on the table beside you with a grin. As if the two of you are friends catching up on the latest gossip. “Don’t be mad though. I’ll help you clean up, okay? We still have time. Look.”

Your eyes follow his finger to land on the clock hanging on the wall, and your mouth falls open.

“I was pretty fast, huh? Think we have time for more once I take you home?”

divider from @ cafekitsune!

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screampied · 9 months ago

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friendddd need some geto or nanami 😋 fluff where he helps you study like pull an all-nighter and then soft smut and he praisesyou for doing so well.

❤︎ ໋𓈒 nanami helping you study then rewarding you after you finish

warnings. fem! reader, praise kink, soft dom nanami, reader's in college, doggystyle, talking you through it, mdni.

it’d be quite late at night, the clock nearly struck around two.

you let off a soft sigh, nanami’s words falling into silent ears. of course, you deeply appreciated his help, but the current study had your mind thrown in for a loop. you sat on his lap, leaning up against your palm before letting off another sigh.

“you get frustrated so easily, sweetheart,” nanami hums, leaning in to pepper a few kisses beneath your neck. he was so warm. you couldn’t help but smile despite the vexed pout sitting on your lips. he holds you close to his chest as your pout remained on your lips. “you’re almost done for the night, don’t pout.”

nanami continued to help you, his patience never wearing thin. “…fine,” you’d huff out, and within an hour you end up remembering all the methods he taught you. nanami watches with a soft gaze before you slump back on his chest, exaggerating out a cute sigh.

“now now, was that so hard? my good girl,” nanami kisses the back of your head. his touch was so gentle, yet after all that work you felt a bit turned on—especially from being so snuggled up against his lap. “awww,” he mutters, feeling you rub on his thigh. you were so handsy, he knew what you wanted and nanami hums. “is this your way of asking for a reward? you want…me, princess?”

“y-yes,” you mumble, his cologne started to get stronger and stronger. it wafts against your nose, simply enticing. nanami was so warm up against you, even him dressed down was sexy. he wore nothing but sweats and a white tank top, bulky beefy arms wrapped around your waist. “i need it.”

“need it?” he repeats, a tender smile tugging on his lips. you let off a cute gasp once he makes you sit up — slowly bending you over the desk.

nanami was so slow, purposely slow to make you lose your mind. he gently runs a thumb near the hem of your pajama shorts before sighing. “such a greedy girl, do you think you deserve it? let me know, baby.”

you pout, just aching for him to be inside already. your brain was practically fried from the immense hours of studying and you pathetically nod. “i deserve it kento. want you so bad. you—you called me your good girl.”

“i did, didn’t i,” he purrs right up against your ear. his voice had a slight rasp to it, so deep. he was such a tease, and you whine once you start to feel his bulge prod against your ass. “mhm. that’s true, i suppose. even though you kept whining about trying to get me to tell you all the answers, you did finish.”

“k-kento.” you’d moan, feeling his dick twitch beneath his briefs. you wanted him inside desperately. just being hunched over the desk, arched perfectly for him . . it had you throbbing.

nanami chuckles, whispering out a, “okay. okayy. if the princess wants me, she’ll get all of me.”

gingerly sliding down your sleepwear pants, nanami sighs. seeing you drench all through your panties, he springs out his length before prodding it all against your folds. you moan, feeling him pinch your underwear with two fingers, dragging it to the side. “wet girl. were you this wet the whole time i was helping you?”

“y-yes,” you whimpered with such honesty. he simpers, hearing your breath start to come more erratic and hitched. your bottom lip quivers once he gradually wraps a big hand around his length, brushing it against your entrance. “fuck me kento, waited s-so long.”

“good things come to those who wait, sweetheart,” he says in a hushed tone—you let off a soft mewl at his fat tip, it’s slowly sinking into you before he teases, pulling it out — in and out, in and out. your sheeny spit-glossed ips quaver as well as your legs before you pout. “aw. such an impatient girl. tryin’ to grind against me all nice like that, so cute.”

nanami couldn’t help but tease you. even if it was just a little bit. the moment he finally starts to sink his way into your slick entrance. your mouth slightly went agape. so thick . . it had your head spinning, lips parting and mouth salivating. he grows quiet the minute you do, and the sounds of your own squelching pussy became his favorite tune to listen to.

“niiiice ‘n warm for me l-like always,” he breathes, and his voice grows a bit lower than usual—it’s insanely attractive. he lowly groans the moment you involuntarily clamp down on him. “did such a good job … today.”

nanami brings two rough hands towards your hips, gently stroking your sides with his thumbs. and once he’s fully inside, he presents you with a single thrust. you jolt forward, moaning from his girth expanding inside of you before you slip out a giggle. “k-kento, i want you to fuck me.”

“hm. is that not what i’m doing, baby?” he asks politely, blond eyebrows raising in pure curiosity.

you move your hips forward before panting, desperately wanting more from him — to feel him reach spots you didn’t even know could be reached. “you can be a little rough with me kento, i can handle it.”

“oh…?” he snickers softly, leaning in to plant another kiss behind your ear. “my smart girl thinks she can handle me?”

“kento,” you whine, and nanami feels you make a cute attempt at swiveling your ass against him. he lets off a faint grunt before smiling to himself. seeing you so needy amused him—of course, he couldn’t tease you for too long. nanami makes you arch over all the way over the desk to where your chest bumps against the plethora of scattered papers. “f-fuck me, jus’ fuck me please.”

nanami parts your legs open for you a bit, getting a perfect alignment before he’s fully in this time. a perfect fit . . nice and snug. he had such a thick base, within a few seconds it smacked and smacked against you.

even still, he continued to be gentle with you.

a tender grip on your hips, yet his strokes were incredibly sloppy. with a tongue briefly lolling out, you babbled out his name numerous times until spit glossed over your lips.

doggystyle with nanami — it was always one of your favorite things to do. he preferred positions where he’d see your pretty face, stroking your cheek while you came on him and all. he didn’t mind this either, nanami caresses a part of your ass before giving it a light squeeze.

“huggin’ me so good. s-so good like a good girl,” he huffs out out in shaky pants.

nanami couldn’t help but feel his cock twitch at the way you were bent over for him. the way you’d whine for him to keep going, to stuff you full until nothing but the remnants of his own sticky cum ran down your thighs. he always did adore how you were his messy girl.

“you didn’t wanna study did you, baby? you—you just wanted to be like this,” and his breaths were heavy. you gnawed on the bottom of your lip as you felt the head of his cock run against that particular spot. nanami was so thick. the right amount of thickness, so thick it had your toes curling. you tried suppressing moans but by this point, you couldn’t care less. “bein’ bent over for me isn’t gonna make you any smarter, y’know?”

“i— i knowww that.” you moaned, feeling your thighs start to ache and ache. the way he reached all the right spots with such ease. he found it cute with the way your words were all whiney and dragged out.

you started to feel it, wave after wave ebbing alongside you . . . that familiar dry taste lingering inside your mouth. you felt yourself squirming a bit before letting off a sweetened moan once his cock head brushes right up near your g-spot.

“f-fuck fuckkkk,” you’d mewl out, gasp after gasp escorting past your sheeny lips. you were so close. your thighs tremble beneath him and he leans up close to you, coating your neck with multiple soft kisses. you moan, his cologne filling up your sinuses before you let off a squeak. “kento, ‘m gonna c-cum. keep—keeeep going.”

nanami puffs. “mhm. give it to me, sweetheart,” and his voice was a smooth low melody. his warm breath went against your earlobe, and he gently nibbles on it to make you spiral even more. nanami slows his hips down, giving you more precise strokes. “relax on me, there we go. smart girl,” and he’s gradually talking you through it. your eyelids flutter, legs barely standing before within seconds you come undone. “that’s my girl.”

you’re still panting, the abrupt surge of ways that left you had your breath nearly stolen from you. your pussy throbbed — even once you felt him start to slowly pull out, brushing a thumb against your slick pulsating heat.

“do you think i’ll um.. pass tomorrow?” you mutter in broken words, glancing down at your scattered papers.

nanami spins you around to kiss the top of your forehead, looking at you with kind eyes before letting off a nervous chortle, “no baby. i checked over your work and you only got like four right.”

#★vegasbaby.#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader smut #jjk fic #jjk drabbles #female reader #anime smut

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chosok-amo · 4 months ago

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hey hey!!! I read your social anxiety fic with megumi and just wanted to say first, that it was amazing like actually shit got me tearing up at how sweet it was 😭

And secondly!! Could I maybe request a Megumi x Reader who tends to cling on people she trust's arms alot? But after meeting Megumi she starts to only cling to him. Like full on arm wrapped around his one arm. Sorry if it's too much and have a nice day!!

⠀⠀⠀⠀CLING-CLINK .ᐟ

megumi fushiguro x 𝗳𝗲𝗺! 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿.

☆ before meeting you, megumi often sees you around school, always clinging into yuuta's arm, even satoru gojo's arm like when a child learns how to cross the street and have to hold into their parents, until he meets you.

fluff, p.s i'm sorry if i don't make your request good enough, but i hope you like it :)

megumi fushiguro stood in the distance, his gaze fixed on a scene unfolding across the school grounds. the golden hues of the setting sun cast long shadows, creating an almost surreal backdrop. among the students scattered about, one figure caught his attention. you were walking with satoru gojo, clinging tightly to his arm, your face lit up with a radiant smile. gojo, as always, exuded his usual charm, his blindfold hiding his eyes but not the amusement on his face. the two of you seemed completely absorbed in your conversation, oblivious to the world around you.

megumi squinted, trying to place you. you looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite pinpoint where he'd seen you before. the way you clung to gojo's arm so naturally, so effortlessly, stirred something in him. it wasn't jealousy, exactly, but a mix of curiosity. “who is she?” megumi wandered to himself, watching as you laughed at something gojo said. “and why is she always so close to him?”

he had noticed you a few times before, always attached to someone else's arm— mostly your teacher, satoru gojo and the second year student, yuuta okkotsu, always so animated and lively. it wasn't just gojo; you seemed to have a habit of clinging to people. it puzzled him. was it a sign of affection? a need for reassurance? or just a part of your personality?

megumi wasn't one to judge, but he found it difficult to understand. he preferred his own space, his own quiet corner of the world. the idea of being so physically close to someone, especially in such a public setting, was foreign to him.

as he watched, gojo said something that made you throw your head back in laughter, your grip on his arm tightening momentarily. the sight brought a small, involuntary smile to megumi's face. there was something undeniably endearing about your openness, your willingness to express joy so freely. still, the question lingered in his mind. why did you always cling to people like that? was it a habit, a comfort, or something more?

yet he found himself another encounter of you with his senpai, yuuta okkotsu. that day megumi fushiguro stood in the shadow of a tall tree, his eyes scanning the school grounds as the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over everything. his gaze settled on a familiar figure in the distance. you were walking with yuuta okkotsu, your arm firmly looped around his as you strolled together.

yuuta, with his kind and calm demeanor, seemed perfectly at ease with you by his side. he wore his usual gentle smile, listening attentively to whatever you were saying. your animated gestures and bright laughter filled the air, making it clear how much you enjoyed his company.

megumi's brow furrowed slightly as he watched. you, always close to someone, always with that same cheerful energy. it was almost like you thrived on the connection, the physical closeness to others. “why is she always like that?” megumi thought to himself, his mind drifting back to the other times he'd seen you, clinging to one, two, max three people around the school. it wasn't just yuuta—he'd noticed you with others too, always the same, always so tactile and open. he couldn't help but feel a bit perplexed.

as you and yuuta continued to walk, yuuta said something that made you laugh, your grip on his arm tightening slightly, just like how you were with gojo. the sight brought a small, involuntary smile to megumi's face. there was something undeniably endearing about your openness, your willingness to express joy so freely and without reservation.

but the same question remained. why did you always cling to people like that? eas it a habit, a comfort, or something deeper?

“maybe she's just really friendly,” he mused, recalling how at ease you seemed with both gojo and yuuta. “or maybe she needs that kind of connection to feel secure,” he thought about the way you laughed with gojo, how your whole face lit up with genuine happiness. then he remembered how relaxed and content yuuta looked with you by his side, as if your presence was a natural part of his day. it wasn't just that you clung to people; it was the way you seemed to bring out something brighter in them, a lightness that megumi couldn't ignore.

“is she like that with everyone?” he wondered. “or is there something special about gojo and yuuta?” the thought nagged at him. he couldn't quite place why it bothered him so much. was it jealousy? curiosity? or simply a desire to understand something so different from his own nature?

megumi fushiguro sat in the shadows, watching you from afar, his mind swirling with a thousand 'what ifs.' he couldn't understand why such a simple thing—someone clinging to another—bothered him so much. it was common enough, something he saw every day, yet whenever it involved you, it gnawed at him. he wonder and wonder why, how, where, and when about you. it's just a simple thing, everyone clinging to everyone, but why does it bother him that much?

“why does it affect me like this?” he thought, frustration bubbling inside him. “why do i care so much?” it wasn't just about you clinging to others. it was how people reacted around you, how comfortable they became in your presence. they acted as if having you wrapped around them was as natural as breathing, as easy as walking, even though it should have been a hindrance. it baffled him how seamlessly you fit into their lives.

how he feel if he's the one you clinging to?

at one point, the one 'what if' crossing his mind, the thought slipped, unbidden, and since that day, megumi couldn't shake it. the curiosity melted inside him, merging with his blood, becoming a part of him. every time he saw you, the question lingered, refusing to let go.

days turned into weeks, and the thought only grew stronger, until one day, fate gave megumi a chance to get to know you. he approached cautiously, his usual stoic expression hiding the turmoil inside. he found you to be warm, bright, full of life. your energy was infectious, your smile lighting up even the darkest corners of his mind.

he worried that he might extinguish your light if he got too close, afraid that his touch might dim your radiance. but then, in a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, you wrapped your delicate arms around his. megumi's heart raced, pounding so loudly he could hear it in his ears. he'd never felt anything like this before. it was as if a bell rang inside his mind, each beat of his heart echoing with the sound. your touch was gentle, yet it set his nerves alight, a single act of affection that shook him to his core.

in that instant, megumi realized why it had bothered him so much. it wasn't just about the act of clinging; it was about the person. It was about you. the thought of you being close to others had ignited a jealousy he hadn't recognized, a longing he hadn't understood.

and now, as you clung to his arm, megumi swore he could feel his world shift. in that moment, he knew that your warmth, your light, was something he wanted to protect, to cherish. and for the first time, he welcomed the feeling, embracing the connection you offered with open arms.

“fushigurooo,” your honey voice, echoes through the wooden wall of your school. a bright smile reached your eyes, shaping them into crescents as you skipped your way over to him. you were always full of life, a burst of sunshine on even the dullest days.

yuuta was there, but you don't even spare the boy a glance, your arms finds their own home naturally— megumi's arm. the second year and the first year decided to go on break after the training that day, strolling around tokyo for treat with gojo's money.

“fushiguro, how's your day?” you ask him, smiling as you look up at the taller boy. megumi looks down at you, watching how you comfortably clung around his arm, refusing to let go.

smiling, the blue-irised boy answered, “it was good, y/n, how's yours?” he pulled his arm closer to his body, and with his expectation you followed along until there was no void, a distance megumi refused to stand. the tumultuous roads of tokyo, but all he could ever listen to was your sweet voice, telling him about how's your day going. the chaos of the city faded into the background, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, walking

the streets of tokyo were alive with energy, filled with the sounds of chatter, laughter, and the occasional honk of a car horn. despite the chaos, megumi's focus remained on you. you animatedly recounted your day, your voice a soothing melody amid the city's cacophony.

yuuta walked a few steps behind, giving the two of you space. he couldn't help but smile at the sight, understanding that something special was unfolding. gojo, always the observer, watched with a knowing grin from the back, making a mental note to tease megumi about it later.

as you continued to talk, your hand lightly squeezed megumi's arm. “and then, we tried this new dessert place. you have to come with me next time, fushiguro. the matcha parfaits are to die for.” megumi chuckled softly, his usual stoic expression softened by your enthusiasm. “i’ll keep that in mind. it sounds good.” you beamed up at him, your eyes twinkling. “it really is! oh, and guess what? i found this adorable bookstore tucked away in a side street. they have the cutest stationery.”

megumi nodded, listening intently, savoring each detail you shared. he found himself looking forward to these moments more and more, where he could just listen to you, forgetting about everything else.

the group eventually reached a cozy café, its exterior adorned with fairy lights and flowering plants. gojo, ever the generous mentor, insisted on treating everyone. you pulled megumi inside, your excitement contagious as you marveled at the menu. “what are you getting, fushiguro?” you asked, glancing up at him with those bright, expectant eyes. megumi scanned the menu briefly before deciding. “maybe just a coffee and a pastry. what about you?”

you giggled, nudging him playfully. “you’re so predictable. i think i'll go for the strawberry shortcake and a matcha latte.” as you made your decision, megumi chuckled lightly at your predictable choice. megumi rolled his eyes at your comment, a light smile playing on his lips. “and you’re too extravagant with your tastes,” e teased, his eyes flickering over the menu, scanning the options before settling for a black coffee and a small blueberry tart.

“seriously, always with the sweets.”

as light as a feather, teasing lingering in his voice the moment his soft smile reached you. after placing your orders, you found a cozy corner to sit in. he followed you to the booth, leaning against it casually as they waited to order. megumi noticed how you made sure to stay close, your arm brushing against his side as you continued to cling to his arm. it was a small gesture, but it made his heart race.

“honestly, your sweet tooth knows no bounds,” he teased, eyeing the array of pastries behind the glass display case. “i’m amazed you don’t turn into a sugar cube after all the sweets you consume.”

“oh come on,” you retorted with a small giggle, smacking his arm playfully. “i don't consume that much sugar. it's called enjoying life, you should try it sometime.” megumi chuckled lightly at your retort, his gaze lazily drifting towards the pastries on display. “enjoying life is one thing. drowning it in excessive sweetness is another.” he shot you a teasing smirk, his eyes dancing with amusement.

you rolled your eyes in faux annoyance, giving his arm another light smack. “you’re just being a party pooper. i bet you're secretly jealous because I know how to savor the little things.” megumi chuckled again, enjoying the lighthearted banter. he found himself getting more comfortable as the conversation continued, the ease of your presence making it feel natural. but even with the casual teasing, a hint of affection snuck into his voice.

“jealous? if your sugar addiction? hardly.”

“shut up, just let me be,” you murmur, your voice tender and suffused with warmth. your arms, once wrapped around him, slowly release their hold and slide down to gently grasp his large hand. the warmth of your touch lingers through the fabric of his uniform, yet it ignites a searing sensation within him.

his gaze descends to where your hand clasps his thumb, noting the delicate strength in your touch. the crimson flush on your cheeks deepens as you avert your gaze, trying to hide the tumult of emotions roiling within. his heart quickens as he intertwines his fingers with yours, the connection between you both deepening with each intertwining motion.

in that quiet, intimate moment, the world seems to shrink to just the two of you. the warmth of your hands melds with his, bridging the space between your hearts, creating a sanctuary of understanding and unspoken promises.

as the minutes passed, the conversation flowed naturally. you talked about everything and nothing, your laughter a soothing balm to megumi's usually serious demeanor. the bustling café seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

when the food arrived, you eagerly shared your dessert with megumi, insisting he try a bite. he obliged, savoring the sweet taste and the way your eyes lit up when he complimented it. “this is good,” he admitted, causing you to grin triumphantly. “i told you so,” you replied, your voice filled with delight. as the day turned into evening, the group eventually decided it was time to head back. you clung to megumi's arm once more, your presence a comforting constant. megumi's mind was filled with a thousand thoughts, each one circling back to you.

and in that moment, he realized that having you by his side wasn't just something he tolerated. it was something he cherished. you were the warmth in his life, the light that made even the busiest streets of tokyo feel like home.

the touch of your hand intertwined with his began to stir something deep within him. the vibrant cityscape of tokyo seemed to blur into the background as he focused on the warmth that lingered between your fingers. it was in this quiet, intimate moment that a profound realization dawned upon him.

he recalled the countless times he had seen you with others—always reaching out, always seeking a connection. it wasn’t merely the physical closeness you sought; it was something far more significant. your gestures were not just idle habits; they were expressions of trust and comfort, woven into the fabric of your interactions.

but now, as he looked down at your hand nestled in his, the truth became unmistakable. since the first time he had encountered you, your warmth and openness had been evident, but with him, there was a different layer of you, how each layer you handed to him with an open heart. you had always clung to him with a special kind of trust, a quiet confidence that set him apart from everyone else.

a sudden wave of humility washed over megumi. the way you rested your hand in his, the way you leaned into his presence, spoke volumes about the depth of your feelings. it was clear now that you saw him as someone steadfast and reliable, someone worthy of your most genuine trust. this simple, yet profound connection was a testament to how much you valued him.

as he felt the gentle pressure of your fingers against his, megumi's heart swelled with a newfound understanding. the touch was more than a mere physical contact; it was an embodiment of the bond that had grown between you. he was the only person you had allowed to be this close, to hold your trust in such a profound way.

he squeezed your hand softly, a tender acknowledgment of the connection that had woven itself so seamlessly into their lives. It was a silent vow—a promise to cherish and honor the trust you had bestowed upon him. in that fleeting moment, as the city’s din faded into insignificance, megumi felt the weight of the trust you had given him and knew it was a precious gift he would hold close to his heart.

#megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fushiguro imagine #fushiguro megumi #jjk fluff #jjk x y/n #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 4 months ago

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Suuuuuup, I've been binging on your writing lately and I completely adore it (sometimes I go back through my likes to re read some of your stuff 💖💖)

So I'm dropping a scenario here.

Reader and Jason Todd have been roommates for quite some time (which means this would be a mutual pinning scenario), sometimes reader patches Jason up and orders some takeout for him. Until one night, Jason was too beaten up after a patrol so reader treated his bruises and scratches before helping him ease his back on his bed while reader sat down beside him. Jason begins with his dose of "you shouldn't be doing this" "I'm not a kid" "I can perfectly hand myself" then Jason starts questioning reader why they care so much about him and worry about him.

Until they reach the point where:

Jason: A prick like me? Yeah, sure.

Reader: Even pricks like you need someone who looks after them.

Jason: Careful, I might start thinking you like me or something if you keep saying things like that.

Reader: Maybe I do like you.

Honest Words

Haha, nonnie, do you even need me? You've got a great fic right there. I feel like I never actually write them getting together, so let me try something. ~ 600 words

'Maybe I do like you. Maybe I do like you.' The words play on loop in Jason's head as he stares at them. The silence goes on for too long and he forces himself to choke out a laugh, "You're joking. Not much to like here."

You tilt your head thoughtfully and hum, curious as you finish cleaning up his wounds, "I dunno, Jason, I see plenty to like."

"Like what?" He asks before he can stop himself. He winces a little, less from the stinging of his wounds and more at how interested he sounds in knowing what exactly you like about him.

"Lots of things," You muse, sitting back on the bed, "I like your eyes."

"My eyes?" He prompts, leaning towards you.

You nod, "They're pretty, and clear. Like you want to be seen. I like that you always let me touch your hair," You reach and brush his hair back to prove your point.

He smiles a little, "I don't think that's any reason to, you know," Jason trails off.

"I like that you're good. Even when you think you're not. You try. You try so hard even when the whole world seems like it's against you. You keep trying. You keep helping people."

His breath hitches at the raw honesty in your voice, the determination and truth in your eyes, "You're– you've never been against me."

You nod, and your gaze leaves him as you start to clean up the gauze and bandages from his bed, "and I won't be. Unless you do something crazy."

He laughs, it almost scares him, how easily you've read him. That you made him laugh even when his throat threatens to tighten and his mind threatens to spiral, "Crazier than what I've already done?"

You nod and grin at him, and it sets his world right, "Crazier than that, much crazier, actually."

He grins right back at you, "I'll keep that in mind for the next time I break the law."

You laugh with him and pat his knee, "Get some rest, Jason. You look like you've been through it tonight."

"I thought you liked how I looked?" He drawls, unable to keep from teasing.

"I do," you say happily, voice fond with affection he's not completely sure how to react to. You stand up, "Now, heal up, ok?"

"Wait," he stops you, grabbing your wrist. He doesn't have a plan, doesn't quite know what he's doing, but he wants you to stay.

"Yeah?" You ask, raising an eyebrow.

He sucks in a breath and guides you closer, slotting your body between his thighs. He looks up at you, the person who's become irreplaceable in his life. He carefully sets his palms over your hips.

"Jason," You breathe out, "You don't owe me anything."

"I know," he says, voice soft but firm, "I want this."

You cup his face with both hands, thumbs tracing his cheek bones as you study his eyes, picking apart the truth of his words, "Would you want me to kiss you?"

Jason leans into your touch and nods, he's not sure what this means for the future, for either of you, but you're being honest. You like him. And he likes you.

His heart is in his throat when you lean down to kiss him.

His eyes slid shut as you press your lips to his. He tilts his head up. It's sweet, loving, it's so completely you, and he gets lost in the feeling, chasing your mouth when you pull away.

"Okay?" You ask softly.

"Yeah," he breathes out, "more than okay."

You smile at him and trace the line of his jaw, "Good, now heal up, Jason."

He smiles back at you, voice light and teasing, "What? Don't wanna kiss me again?"

He smiles even wider when you tell him, on the way out his bedroom door, you can do all that and more once he's better.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x reader

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the-oblivious-writer · 5 months ago

Text

Jealous Lover

Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader

One-shot

Summary: Your eagerness for discussions regarding your favorite band leads to an argument with your girlfriend

Warning(s): Swearing, no pronouns but sam uses 'girlfriend' once, jealous!sam, drunk!tara, & mentions of puking/gagging

Notes: For all the fellow passionate music lovers out there, this one's for you. Maybe one day I'll dive into how I think punk/rock in general's played a role in Sam's life and how she's passed down her love for music to Tara

This is not how you wanted to spend your night. You were dragged out to a party you didn’t even want to go to. You would much rather spend the night with your girlfriend. Much rather. But you kind of owed your friend since you always managed to make up an excuse for these things in the past. Her own girlfriend was out of town visiting family so you were second in line to be her plus one.

You were actually having an okay time, still missing your girlfriend, but you ended up having an interesting conversation with this guy you met while grabbing drinks for you and your friend. The conversation regarded music. You could never pass up the opportunity to go on and on about something you actively worshiped. But unfortunately, this little peace you found didn’t last when from the corner of your eye you noticed a familiar figure tumbling her way over to the couch. It was then you looked over to see your girlfriend’s little sister sitting with her friends.

Ah, crap.

You knew for a fact she was not supposed to be here. You thought about what was in store for her when she got home before excusing yourself and walking over to her.

“Tara,” you said to get her attention. “Hey, uh—”

She looked up from the couch to you with a bright smile plastered on her face before getting up and wrapping her arms around you, momentarily catching you off guard. You almost forgot she was a clingy drunk.

“Look it’s Y/N!” She shouted to her friends as you subtly winced from her volume.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you shortly laughed. You looked over Tara to see her friends, Mindy and Anika, wave to you in which you returned with a nod. “I'll take this from here,” you told them while helping Tara up after she tripped on her own foot.

Mindy gave you a thumbs up while Tara started to slump in your arms. “Tara?” You looked down to see her wearing a more tired expression that matched her sluggish demeanor. Another thing you noticed in the time you knew the girl is that she had quite a bit of mood swings.

“Let’s get you home,” you said with a comforting pat on her shoulder.

—

Sam could not believe Tara. She specifically told Tara no to the party she was now off to retrieve her from. She just got home from her therapy too, Quinn had accidently slipped and told Sam where Tara was before going back to her room. As soon as Sam heard this, she rushed to put on the jacket she had just taken off.

“That sneaky little shi—” Sam was reaching for her taser but stopped once she heard the locks on the door begin to turn, stopping in her tracks. Tara walked through the door, hiccupping and giggling, as you held her up.

“You Carpenters are really something when you’re drunk—oh, Sam! Hi!” You stopped walking, now looking at your girlfriend like a deer in headlights. You knew she would be home by now. You knew you would have some explaining to do. Yet you still found yourself unprepared as you saw her standing right by the doorway because she was presumably getting ready to hunt down her sister.

“I have a perfectly good explanation for this,” you said.

She furrowed her eyebrows, tilting her head as she crossed her arms and looked at you. “Really? You do?” She looked so intimidating, so in control of the situation. It was so hot. But you had to focus.

“Mhm,” was the only thing you managed to muster.

“Then, please, enlighten me because it looks like my sister snuck off to a party against my wishes, yet you seem to be aware of that part. So, care to tell why you didn’t throw me in the loop?”

“Okay,” you lightly sighed. You nodded your head in the direction of the living room and Sam followed. You laid Tara on the couch before you finally spoke. “When I went there, I didn’t know she would also be there. We just ran into each other and as soon as we did I brought her here,” you calmly spoke and you could see Sam slowly start to ease at your words.

Yet that ease only lasted so long before a drunk Tara pitched in. Sam was about to reply when she was cut off by the younger Carpenter. “And some guy was flirting with Y/N,” she said before stretching out her arms and dramatically yawning.

Always an instigator.

“Some guy was what?” You could hear it in Sam’s voice that any ease you brought her disapparated. If her voice didn’t give you anything, her expression certainly did; her eyebrows were scrunched as she clenched her jaw and flared her nostrils.

“It wasn’t like that,” you quickly tried to reassure your girlfriend. “He noticed the album cover on my shirt and he said it's his favorite album. A conversation struck up but it was nothing more than two fans expressing their mutual appreciation for a band and their music.”

“You talked about music?” Her tone was defensive as she adjusted her crossed arms, attempting a stoic stance to cover any hurt she felt upon hearing what you just revealed.

She knew how much you valued music, what it meant to you. It isn’t like your love language, it is your love language. When you first started hanging out, instead of the typical bouquet of flowers, you made her a playlist, gifting it to her on a CD. Now she finds any excuse to listen to it 24/7, never growing sick of the intimate playlist you constructed with songs that you said made you think of her. Even on your first date with the older Carpenter, the two of you talked for hours discussing all the greats—from Kurdt Cobain to Jimi Hendrix. Sam also had a connection to music, growing up it was her escape from the outside world. So, inevitably, it played a big part in your relationship. You two met in a record store for Pete's sake. So yes, she grew a somewhat possessive once she found out you were discussing one of your all time favorite bands with a man who was supposedly flirting with you.

“You sure that’s all he wanted to talk about? Wouldn't be the first time someone's blatantly flirted with you but you were too oblivious to notice.” She let out a dry chuckle, her voice vindictive.

“Yes, that’s it. Music is all we talked about. What? Am I not allowed to talk to other people now?” You remarked, a little more unapologetic than you intended. Sam didn’t have a jealousy problem per se, she just had trouble drawing the line between possessive and protective. Often, those lines blurred to the point where even you had trouble telling them apart.

Fine, maybe she did have a jealousy problem.

“Talking and flirting are two different things. Excuse me if I don’t want my girlfriend conversing with people who want more than musical insight,” Sam defended pointedly.

“You’re saying that as if he was all over me. The point is he wasn’t.” Your patience was thinning as you were running out of reassuring words to say.

“I’m—” Sam had begun but was once again cut off by Tara who was now gagging.

“Shit, I think I’m gonna puke!” Tara shouted as she tried to make it to the bathroom. You and Sam rushed to her aid, the both of you desperately hoping that you would get Tara to the bathroom in time.

—

After about an hour of holding Tara’s hair back as she puked—you and Sam rotating—you and Sam finally managed to put a very pouty Tara to bed. As Sam adjusted Tara's pillow, you pulled her blanket over her and adjusted the sides. Sam kissed her forehead and you followed with a light pat on her head before the both of you said ‘goodnight’ to the now snoring girl.

Upon hearing the soft click Tara’s bedroom door gave from gently closing it, the two of you let out exhausted sighs. You both walked to the kitchen, Sam leaning against the counter as you opened the cabinets looking for a mug.

“You want some tea?” You asked your girlfriend, already grabbing the lavender tea she stored in the drawers just below where the mugs were kept.

You glanced over to see her nodding, giving you a nonverbal answer. You got the tea kettle out and filled it with water using the kitchen sink. You then placed it on the stove, set the heat to an appropriate temperature, and then placed the small box of lavender tea to the side for when the water is finished boiling. Another moment of silence passes before you divert your attention from the kettle to your girlfriend.

“Sam…” You finally spoke in a gentle voice.

“I know.” She wasn’t curt with her words but understanding.

You lightly exhaled, making your way over next to Sam. You leaned against the counter before asking, “Are you gonna talk to me or just try to wait it out like every other time?” You weren’t demanding but genuinely asking her.

You looked at her, your faces not so far apart, you saw the reluctant and shameful look she wore. This made you slightly furrow your eyebrows as you looked at the woman.

“I hate the thought of you with anyone else,” she answered. She looked to the ground in shame. Shame for letting her thoughts consume her like this, shame for letting it lead to an argument with you. What if you discovered just how deep her jealousy ran? You would leave her, that’s what. At least, that’s what she told herself would happen.

You lifted her chin with your free hand so she would look at you, but you saw her eyes hesitate to comply. “Look at me, Sammy,” you told her and it was enough for her to listen. “I’m yours and only yours. No one else can have me like you do. No one else,” you said with great truth.

Sam’s heart skipped a beat at your words, melting at how your thumb softly grazed her chin. Your touch could have her crumble in mere seconds. That scares apart of her, but another part of her can't help but admire it.

“I was being ridiculous.” She shook her head, still feeling guilt for giving you a hard time for talking about something you’re passionate about.

“That’s in the past now.” You gave her a smile that’s always been enough to brighten her days. “Just know you’re the only music dork I want in my bed,” you teased.

A gorgeous smile grazed Sam’s face at this comment. “Oh, yeah? I feel the exact same way about you,” she said as you both began to lean in.

“Good, we balance each other out,” you flirted back right before you two closed the gap between you, your lips meeting halfway. Her lips were warm and soft, and you could taste her nightly cigarette on them. You tilted your head and parted your own lips to deepen the kiss and give her tongue access, but the forgotten tea kettle on the stove whistled, interrupting the kiss before it could escalate.

You and Sam broke apart, slightly panting, as you both wore shit eating grins. “I should go set up the tea,” you said with warm cheeks.

Sam nodded with an, “Okay,” but her eyes never pulled from your back as you prepared the tea. She subtly walked up behind you, putting her hands on your hips and rested her chin on your shoulder.

“Sammy,” you lightly laughed in an excited surprise.

“Bring the tea to my room and don’t take too long. I wanna finish where we left off,” she whispered into your ear in a husky voice. You could feel her breath against your neck due to this, your heart racing in response.

Sam sauntered off to her room, but not without leaving a kiss just below the corner of your jaw. If you noticed her taking a subtle bite then you didn’t comment. The kiss sent shivers down your spine, and after snapping out of the daze Sam put you in, you quickly went back to the tea. You never made tea so briskly before tonight.

Later, Sam kept on her promise. She may have left a few hickeys for the world to see but you could never prove she did it with possessive intent.

That was just for her to know.

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A/N: and if I said y/n was wearing an 'In Utero' shirt?? (ofc, imagine whatever shirt you'd like)

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter #melissa barrera x reader #melissa barrera x you #melissa barrera

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moonchild701 · 1 month ago

Text

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Party Animal

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[NSFW] ‼ 18+ >MDNI<

Summary: At a Halloween Party, you meet the big, bad wolf, and he eats you up.

Pairing: Dabi/Fem Reader

Content Warning: Smut, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Biting, Kinda Crack, Horrible puns, Roleplay-ish, Costumes

Word Count: 3.7k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is for a Halloween Challenge in one of the communities here on Tumblr. I used four prompts from the challenge, plus my own for funsies, so I'll be posting every Thursday up to and including Halloween.

Prompt: Werewolf & Halloween Party

Enjoy!💕

My Masterlist

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You and your friend are at a Halloween party, both decked out in your costumes.

She'd somehow convinced you to agree to dress up in matching costumes, but you both look hot so you're not complaining.

Black combat boots adorn your feet, white thigh high stockings beneath, leaving only a thin line of skin visible between them and the frilly red skirts of the dresses that barely cover your asses. The skirts are fluffy, with white lace tulle giving them a nice, puffed shape, while the top, white and ruffled, with black ribbons, accentuate your figures, your breasts especially; the red capes wrapped around your necks, hoods down, framing them and complimenting the red of the skirts.

The final piece for your costume is looped loosely over the crook of your elbow; a cute little purse made to look like a basket, with a pretty white bow on the handle.

Music pulsing through the house, the scents of smoke, sweat and alcohol in the air is almost too much. You haven't really drank much yet, with it being pretty early on, but you decide to head outside for a bit of time away and some fresh air.

Your friend is in good hands, hanging out and chatting with a classmate of hers, someone dressed as Spiderman, so you let her know where you're going, and you're on your way.

On the way out, you see your friend and host, Todoroki Shouto, dressed as a vampire, talking to someone you can't see, so you move on to the backdoor.

There are a few people lounging around out here, some smoking, some just chatting with drinks in their hands. The quieter atmosphere is calming, and you hum as you take a sip of your third drink of the night.

You hear the door open again behind you, but you pay it no mind, until you hear a voice next to you.

"Hey there, Little Red," His voice is husky and low, and familiar. You turn to the source of it, seeing Shouto's older brother.

Todoroki Touya.

You feel your heart stutter. You of course know him, becoming not quite friends, but more acquaintances over the time of being friends with Shouto.

And of course, you've had a pathetic little crush on him for almost as long as you've known him.

"Hey." You reply, taking in his costume.

He has black wolf ears atop his head, perfectly blending in with his wild, dyed midnight hair, and a fluffy black tail clipped to the back loop of his distressed jeans. His red and black plaid shirt is untucked, with the top buttons undone, and sleeves rolled up, giving him a subtle disheveled look, while having his tattoos along his forearms, neck and shoulders on full display; piercings shining in the low light of the convenient full moon.

You look over Touya's werewolf costume, and purse your lips. "Cute. We match....Kinda."

"I'm so glad you noticed," he says, grin fittingly wolfish. "I noticed and just wanted to take a bite."

You just know the asshole waited for you to sip at your drink to say that, because the little shit laughs when you nearly choke on your drink. You glare at him as you clear your throat, which just has Touya snickering. You huff indignantly, ready to leave before he says anymore nonsense.

But of course, he opens his mouth again.

"What, scared of the big, bad wolf?" he drawls, looming closer; eyes and teeth glinting.

You scoff, rolling your eyes, not moving and hoping he can't tell how flustered you are at his proximity. "You wish."

"Oh?" he says, all smug amusement, as he shifts close enough to whisper in your ear. "I could just eat... you... up."

You swallow thickly. The things he's saying are cheesy as hell, and a part of you finds it hilarious. But the more prominent part is focused on the way his voice sounds in your ear, the feel of his warm breath on your skin, the heat of him so close to you.

You shove at his chest, openly flustered, muttering a quiet, "Shut up", before draining the last of your cup.

Touya chuckles, trailing his knuckles lightly up your arm, before murmuring, "If I can't eat you up, I'd love to eat you out, hm?"

You look back at him incredulously, only to see him staring at you with a piercing heat; your heart pounding in your chest. Your skin prickles at the intensity held within that azure gaze.

"You're serious?" You whisper cautiously, ready to run and defenestrate yourself at any hint that this might just be a joke to embarrass you.

His brows furrow a bit in confusion. "'Course, Doll."

You give him a considering look, biting your lip, before sighing. "Fuck it. Let's go."

"Fuck yeah." he grins, lacing his fingers through yours, and tugging you back inside and toward the staircase.

You laugh softly at his antics, but let him lead the way, rolling your eyes and flipping your friend off when you hear her yell for you to "Get it, girl!"

Touya leads you up the stairs and down a long hallway, into a bedroom layered in black, blue and purple decor, though you don't get much time to actually look around, because his lips are immediately on yours.

Firm hands wrap around your hips, pulling you in for a hot, hungry kiss.

Not expecting the intensity of it, you suck in a sharp breath through your nose, tossing your basket purse to the side, before threading your fingers into his dark hair, tugging him closer. He licks the seam of your lips, and you eagerly open up, your tongues tasting each other; the bitter taste of alcohol from both of your earlier drinking adding to the heat of it.

Pulling away from the kiss, he pushes you backwards, onto the bed, making you squeak in surprise as you fall. Your feet dangle off the end, eyes blown wide as you watch Touya hover over you, holding your wrists above your head in warm hands.

"Fuck, should've done this sooner." he mutters, leaning down to capture your lips again, holding you in place with his weight.

And something about being pinned down, with no way to tug free easily, has your cunt clenching.

He nips at your lower lip, and you moan softly, before he's kissing along your jaw and down your throat. You let out little shuddering breaths and whispered curses as he takes advantage of the low cut of your dress, pulling it and your bra down below your breasts, shifting to hold both your wrists in one hand.

Humming lowly, appreciatively, he gropes your bare tits, pinching and rubbing your nipples. His hot mouth latches on to a pert bud, flicking his tongue across it before sucking.

You gasp, trying to tug your hands free as you squirm beneath him. He mercifully relents, releasing them, and you immediately tangle them in his hair.

He pulls off of the current nipple with a slick pop, switching to the other, laving it with the same attention and relishing in your sounds.

He presses a wet kiss between your breasts, before shifting down, past your clothed abdomen, and sliding off the end of the bed.

Tugging at your legs, he pulls you to the edge and spreads you wide, lifting your dress. He licks his lips as he sees that you're wearing nothing but flimsy, lace panties, leaning in.

He buries his face between your thighs, lace damp with your arousal, and he groans as he can partially taste you through the fabric where he licks a stripe up your clothed cunt. Looping his fingers through the tops of the underwear, he pulls it down swiftly, unveiling his prize.

Pretty and dripping, Touya feels his mouth water.

"Mm, needy little thing, aren't you?" He coos, gripping your thighs in warm hands.

"Fuck, hurry up," You whine, voice exactly as needy as you look.

"Don't worry, baby," Touya says, grinning, and he has a...mischievous glint to his eyes. "I'm going to huff..." he blows a breath against your dripping cunt, making you gasp, scrambling to sit up, "and puff..." another breath of hot air against you, "and blow your mind, Red."

And you can't help the snort of laughter that bubbles up, "You've got to be fucking kiddi-" you start, but quickly choke on the words when he licks up through your folds, tongue firm and hot.

He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue, before sucking on it, making you shudder and moan, pussy clenching around nothing. You reach down again to grasp dark hair, grinding your hips up against his face, as your eyes roll shut, head thrown back, when he thrusts his tongue into your cunt, deep and curling against your slick walls.

With the way he's practically making out with your pussy, tongue eager and sinful, you can already feel your orgasm approaching, your legs trembling as you clench rhythmically around Touya's tongue.

His grip on your thighs tighten momentarily, before one hand releases its hold, coming down to sink two fingers into your needy cunt along with his tongue; the burn of the stretch making your head loll back, a whiny moan bubbling out of you.

Moving up to show your clit some more love, he sucks on the swollen nub, humming against you as he pumps his fingers in and out, curling and scissoring, stretching you open for him.

"Oh, fuck." you moan breathlessly, grinding down against his fingers.

Eyes locked on you, Touya just hums against you, and the vibrations of that directly on your clit is immediately too much. You cum with a whining moan, your entire body jolting and shuddering with the shockwaves of pleasure that course through you.

You grind your cunt against Touya's face, who relishes in the movements, moaning and not letting up his ministrations, drawing out your pleasure.

When you finally slump back down, whining and twitching, you push at Touya's head when it becomes too much. He mercifully pulls away and leans back, pulling his fingers free to lap at them.

He stands up, leaning over the bed to claim your lips in a searing kiss, rolling his hips up against your core, letting you feel how hard he is. You wrap your legs around his waist, pressing closer against him and Touya groans.

"Tell me what you want, Doll. Lemme hear you say it." he mutters, nipping at your lips.

"Fuck," you whimper, dripping for it. Eyes glossy, you peer up at him. "Fuck me, please."

You move to fully strip off your dress, but Touya stops you, eyes hungry.

"I wanna fuck you in it, Dolly." his voice is husky as his hands slide up the sides of your thighs under the dress.

"Mm, hurry up," you pant, squeezing your legs harder around him, rubbing your soaking folds against his pants.

Touya leans in to bite and tug your lower lip, before nosing at your throat, a low growl in his voice. "Impatient little slut, hm?"

You moan, nodding, eyes lidded. He huffs a laugh against your neck, teeth scraping at the soft skin. He presses a hot kiss just under your jaw before pulling your legs free so he can undress.

He soaks in the deliciously desperate look on your face, gaze locked onto him as he strips off his shirt, and shoves his pants and boxers down, freeing his cock.

At the sight of him, tip coated in precum that drips down the long, thick shaft, you bite your lip, subconsciously spreading your legs a bit wider; the only thought on your mind how badly you want that cock splitting you open.

Touya smirks, slowly stroking himself, swiping his thumb over the glistening tip, making a little show of it. He can see the way you lick your lips like you want a taste, but that isn't what he wants right now, just wanting to sink into your tight heat.

You start scooting up further on the mattress to make room for him, but Touya shakes his head. Standing at the foot of the bed, he gives you a devilish smirk as he grips your ankles, tugging you down to the very edge of the bed so your ass is barely hanging off.

A hand cups the back of your left knee, pushing your leg up, and you glance down to where his hot cock presses against your entrance.

Rubbing the head of his cock along your slit, teasing through your folds, he says, amusement lacing his voice, "Howl for me, yeah Little Red?"

You barely even care about the horrible pun, purely focused on the dick not inside you yet. "Fuck, yes," you groan impatiently, wiggling your hips, trying to coax him into just fucking you.

All too pleased with himself, he chuckles at your blatant want, "Good girl," and pushes forward to fully sheathe himself in a single thrust.

Your breath hitches; the stretch deliciously intense, the thick head pressing perfectly against your most sensitive nerves. Touya groans, gripping your hips tightly, holding you at the end of the bed as he rolls his hips, soaking in feel of the tight heat enveloping his dick.

He looks down at you, speared on his cock, panting and eyes hazy, and licks his lips as he shifts his hands to your thighs, pushing them toward your abdomen, folding you as he leans forward, sinking even deeper, his hips flush against you. He starts thrusting slowly, watching his dick move in and out, shining with your slick, relishing in the filthy squelching sound accompanying each movement and the choked moans being wrung from you.

"This is what you wanted, right, baby?" he murmurs, taking in your expressions.

You just nod, panting, head feeling like it's stuffed full of cotton as you savor the feel of his sheer size as he moves, clenching around him.

His hips stutter at that, before hooking your boot clad ankles over his shoulders, and with a low growl in his throat, he leans down, palms bracing against the sheets, and starts moving faster. He pounds harder and harder into you with each thrust, drilling into you relentlessly, fucking you deep.

And all you can do is pant and moan and take it, the brutal pace punching the air out of you. Through the filthy sounds of your cunt and his borderline animalistic grunts against your throat, something in the back of your mind realizes that he has you in a mating press, fucking you so, so deep, and that thought is all it takes.

You shake with your orgasm, back arching, eyes rolling back and toes curling as you drench his cock with your heat.

He groans out a swear as you clamp down, fucking you through it, before pulling out, roughly manhandling you into going further up the bed and flipping you over. Still dazed and twitching slightly, you go easily.

Pushed onto your knees, face down, ass up, you barely even register the shift until he grips your hips in a bruising hold, pushing your legs wider. Keeping the skirt of your dress flipped up, he slams back into you with a growl, and you let out a gasping moan, back arching.

Like this, you're in the perfect position for Touya to mount you.

He pistons into you, the wet slap of skin filling the air.

"Touya!" you scream, moaning and panting as you push back to meet each movement as best you can, pussy dripping.

He groans, folding himself over you to rest his forehead against your back, crowding you into the sheets.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you chant, babbling underneath him, moving your hips back with strong rolls of your spine as you fuck yourself on Touya's cock.

"Shit," he hisses. He leans back a bit, slowing his thrusts as one hand goes to the back of your neck, pressing down hard as he grips your hip with the other hand, making your back arch further, chest pushed into the plush of the sheets as Touya sinks impossibly deeper into your hungry pussy. "So good, baby, so good."

Ignoring the sweat trickling down his temple, he uses his grip on you to force you to stay still and behave as you whimper and wriggle, because you're so fucking wet and tight, that Touya is doing his fucking best to hold off his orgasm so he can bask in the feel of your cunt for just a bit longer, taking in the obscene sounds escaping your sloppy cunt.

It's the best sound he's ever heard, just below the sweet little whimpers and gasps escaping your lips as he carves out a place for himself within you.

Picking up his pace again, he slams into you over and over again, panting. You moan and whine beneath him, almost delirious with pleasure. "Mmn, more, more, harder, Touya, harder!" you cry out.

He lets out a near feral snarl as he lets go of your neck, shifting his position just a little so that he could drive in as fast and hard and deep into your greedy body as possible, gripping your waist, and using it as a grip to help pull you against his dick with every move.

This position has his balls slapping up against your clit with every thrust, and you moan, tilting your hips to get more contact.

It feels like he's impossibly deep inside you, as if he's hitting your womb with the blunt head of his cock. You can almost imagine him forcing his way in and emptying himself inside and your cunt pulses, wanting nothing more than exactly that.

And you can't stop the way your entire body vibrates as you cum again, sobbing around a low moan as drool trickles past your lips and your cunt gushes around him. There's so much now that it's dripping down your thighs, soaking your stockings and Touya's legs, creating a filthy, wet slap that echoes around the room.

"Fuck, fuck, shit," he groans at the way your walls clench down, pussy walls fluttering around him.

And Touya doesn't stop, doesn't slow down, doesn't speed up. He just continues at the same pace, fucking you through it, prolonging it.

"Oh god, so good—hah— s-so deep—", you moan, gasping at a particularly deep stroke along your sensitive walls.

You're a twitching, moaning mess, your pussy sporadically clenching as the waves of bliss continually surge through you.

And you feel a burning need to feel him fill you up with his cum, a need for him to breed you like a sweet little bitch.

You let out a sobbing moan at that thought, shuddering almost violently when Touya leans in to lap at the soft skin of your shoulder and neck as you move, sucking little marks into your flesh. He teases his teeth along your neck, grunting and groaning at the intense pleasure still building up.

You turn your head to look back at the man pounding your drenched pussy, taking in his furrowed brows, clenched jaw and feral yet focused expression; and Touya sees how fogged over with pleasure your gaze is, how absolutely fucked out you look, your tongue lolling out of your mouth. You look fucking debauched.

He releases his hold on your hips to drape himself over your back and lean on his forearms at the sides of your head, caging you in.

"Fuck, I'm gonna—" he groans into your skin, breath warm, voice low and hot.

“Mn—hah—need your cum.” panting, your eyes roll back in your head as he speeds up; his thrusts punishing. "C-cum inside me—oh fuck—breed me, please, please, p-please—fuck—fill me up, bite me, b-breed me please—", you babble, and you can feel his cock twitching within you as he ruts into you, his hips stuttering, before he's cumming; his hot seed flooding your insides as he clamps down on the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder with a snarl.

It hurts so good, and your voice is broken when you shout Touya's name as your pussy spasms around him in a semblance of an orgasm, but it's close enough as your eyes roll back and you convulse with pleasure, moaning long and low.

"Oh fuck, yes, yes, yes, yes—hnn—fill me up, breed me—" the string of nonsense is sobbed into the bed, sheets muffling them, tears cascading down your face and causing your vision to go blurry, as you're fucked out of your mind, just barely remembering your own name through the haze; your body trembling and shivering, cunt clamping down like a vice and milking Touya's cock for all its worth.

He groans heavily around the mouthful of flesh as he grinds shallowly into your stuffed cunt, before managing to unlatch his jaw from you and lick and press open mouthed kisses over the mark.

"Fuck yes, take it. Take my cum, fuck." He growls, lips pressed against your new mark, fucking his seed into you as deeply as he could, dragging out your highs.

He finally slows to a stop when the pleasure turns painful with overstimulation, chest heaving as he attempts to calm down; sitting back and dragging you with him until you're on his lap, face still pressed against the bed as you gasp for breath.

He laughs breathlessly at your debauched state, kneading the flesh of your ass, before easing out of your abused hole.

With his cock no longer keeping your cunt plugged, the mix of your sticky juices and his thick cum spill down your thighs, onto the bed unimpeded.

Your stockings are absolutely soaked, and your dress wasn't safe either.

You don't know how you'll be able to leave like this, but you'll figure something out. When you can remember your full name, you can figure it out.

For now, you bask in the feel of warm hands running along your body, easing out whatever tension is there, drifting off to the distant sounds of music thumping through the house.

And as you drift off, Touya's eyes take in your ravished form and he licks his teeth like a beast would it's chops. His meal was delicious.

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#moonchild701 #mha #bnha #dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi x you #my fics #mdni #dabi smut #mha smut #bnha smut

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johnbrand · 13 days ago

Text

Updated Employee Handbook

Ding! Ding!

Clark groaned. “Did you just get this email from Corporate?”

“I think so,” Weston frowned. “‘Updated Employee Handbook’?”

“That’s the one,” Clark confirmed, the pair opening their respective emails. “Ever since this new CEO was confirmed, I feel like he’s been restarting and refreshing everything we do here.”

Weston scoffed, “We can’t even enjoy our 30 minute break outside the office without somehow getting looped back in.

Click. Click.

“Are we sure we want to read this now?” Clark flicked a blond curl out of his face. “We could just enjoy the remaining minutes of our ignorant freedom.”

Weston chuckled, “I don’t know if we can, man. It’s flagged for mandatory reading, immediately.”

“I just hope they’re not revoking the jeans policy,” Clark commented. “I didn’t bring an extra set of clothes.”

Weston scratched at his man bun with an exaggerated sigh. “I did, but that’s because I knew I’d already be sweating through this shirt by now.”

Fwoosh. Fwoosh.

“Step by step confirmations?” Clark remarked. “This’ll be fun.”

“You know it,” Weston added.

Confirm. Confirm.

“‘The foundations of a man’s future are found in his wardrobe',” Clark began. “‘Traditional, full cut briefs are the center. Their stiff, starchy materials, blindingly white to showcase utter perfection, solidify the role of an employee. Their cotton fabric may appear inconsequential, yet they affirm that the employee is at the very core follwing instruction’.”

Confirm. Confirm.

Weston shifted his bottom uncomfortably. “‘A pristine button-down should expertly cover the upper body. Depending on the weather, and the corporate setting, the following should either be a suitable pair of trousers or shorts. Trousers shall remain woolen and perched millimeters below the briefs and only be supported by braces. Shorts can be designed of lighter material, but must be of adequate length’.”

Confirm. Confirm.

“At least he’s letting our legs breathe,” Clark commented, itching at his own exposed limbs absentmindedly. “‘While the stiff shirt and particular cut of the trousers will keep the employee upright and tall, the jacket is designed for decorative purposes. The shape will reform the man as thick, strong, and uniform. Depending on the season, colors will remain modest. Blacks, grays, and blues for winter, with simple patterns and refined hues allowed for summer’.”

Confirm. Confirm.

Weston pulled at his striped lapel, thankful that his choice of attire today was not too exciting. “‘Accessories shall follow a similar suit. Silky black socks, generic yet tasteful tie, a handkerchief and or watch reflective of wealth, not personality. A highly polished pair of oxfords should represent every employee’s wardrobe; the gel holding his hair should represent how the employee is held to standards’.”

Confirm. Confirm.

“This better be the last page,” Clark moaned. “This is giving me more of a headache than refluffing my quiff.”

“It’s almost as agonizing as visiting an inexperienced tailor,” Weston quipped, to which both men laughed.

“Alright alright, I got this,” Clark finally said. “‘The foundations of a man are found in his wardrobe. Therefore, what is built upon that foundation should match. After all, the clothes do make the man’. There, that’s it.”

“Thank god that’s the last one,” Weston agreed.

Confirm. Confirm.

“Quite the peculiar update to our terms of service, wouldn’t you agree?” Clarence remarked.

“Well how so?” Wesley questioned. “I maintain that the boss’s wishes perfectly align with the standard workplace etiquette."

“My point exactly,” Clarence confirmed. “What is unordinary is how these quotations were not enforced before. The sense here is that I have already adorned this Cascade green jacket numerous times throughout these last two quarters alone.”

“And I with my own blazer showcasing these off-golden buttons,” Wesley added. “Perhaps our boss is tastefully solidifying our strong, traditional, classic values, even if we were already abiding.”

Meeting Invite for CLARENCE JOHNSTONBOROUGH, WESLEY LAUDER II

“Bizarre how we appear to consistently be transported back to our duties, even while on intermission, is it not?” Clarence inquired.

“Indeed, it is bizarre,” Wesley replied.

#male tf #male transformation #preppification #unintended results

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dailydoseofsluttythoughts · 4 months ago

Text

~♡Brat♡~

"Nemiiii, I wan' that one!... Pleaseeee..?" You flashed your big doe eyes at him, pointing at the bright pink juicy track suit you had yet to acquire.

You had been meaning to buy one for quite a while now but could never find one in the color you want, unfortunately.

"No. The jacket alone is $113, baby, an' you haven't quite been on your best behavior today" He replied, never breaking his gaze away from the Jordans he was looking at. He was referring to the 8 bags he was already holding. (Even though you had repeatedly told him you could pay if he didn't want to).

Your arms flopped down at your sides in defeat, the bangles and bracelets on your wrists clinking together as you pouted up at your fiance.

You felt the familiar sting of tears well up in your eyes at the denial. You really wanted it. And you'd be damned if you weren't gonna get it by the end of the day.

You smirked as an idea popped into your head, and stepped closer to Sanemi. Your left hand came up to grab at his right biscep and your right hand moved to lay on his chest.

Your tan wedges added a good few inches to your height, making it easier for you to reach and whisper into his ear. "Oh really? So there's nothing I can do to change your mind, huh?... Bumer, I was thinking some time on my knees might do the trick" You knew you had him wrapped around your well-manicured finger by the way his eyes shifted slightly to towards you in contemplation.

He grunts under his breath, "Your on, princess. You make me cum an' it's all yours baby, " He leaned closer to you as he spoke.

You smiled up at him, your glossy lips shining and your sickeningly sweet Victoria's Secret perfume intoxicating him. His head was getting foggy at just the thought of your plump lips slickly wrapped around his already hardening cock.

You led him out of the store, looping your arm in his as you shut your brain off and let him lead you to the family bathroom in Macy's. Good thing it was a Wednesday and there wasn't many people here at the mall.

You and Nemi liked coming here on Wednesday's because you had worked at this mall in your teen years and knew that Tuesday was the day that all of the restock items came into the stores, and nobody's comes to the mall on Wednesday, so you get first picks at all the good stuff.

The two of you had already been to Victoria's Secret, and bought some new sets fro special occasions, Zumiez to get Nemi some new pants, - there was a sale - and to get you some new beanies. You had also spent almost $200 at Spencer's, buying brand new 'adult' toys to try out later. You had also stopped at Forever 21 to get a new dress for you and Nemi's date night on Saturday.

But for now here you were in a family bathroom that was, surprisingly clean. Nemi sat down on the closed toilet seat, after unbottoning his pants and shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the floor in front of him, leaving him in a white wife-beater.

"Kneel on that. Now." His voice was stern and dominating. The lowness of it combing over your body, almost forcing you to kneel down in front of him.

"Well? Get to it slut... Don' tell me your backing out now, after allat talk earlier" His crystal white grin was sinister, but nonetheless put you into a deadly trance.

He didn't wait any longer and pulled out his raging hard-on. He wasn't the longest you had seen, - you had never really liked them too long - but his girth. My god, you could go on for days about how perfectly his thickness fit inside your holes.

You knew you had to be leaking at this point. You could feel the sticky wettness on your thighs. His dick was leaking at the tip, giving away how excited he actually was right now.

You breathed in deep, inhaling the heavy scent of his musk. It made your vision hazy and clouded your brain. Your head with filled with non stop thoughts of his cock.

Finally, you leaned forward and gripped the base with your small, manicured hands. Your gaze never left his as you left small kitten licks up and down the sides of his manhood, tracing the prominent veins lining his shaft.

Your mouth came back up to the top, tongue trailing along the bottom, where he had the thickest vien out of all of them, your pink tinted lip-gloss leaving kiss marks along his thickness.

You popped his tip into your mouth and sucked slightly. "Oh fuuuck, that's good, baby" He grunted out, in between heavy sighs.

His reaction pleased the hell out of you, motivating more movement from your tongue as you sunk further down his dick. You pulled back up and hollowed your mouth around him, creating a stronger suction than before.

His hips stuttered and lifted towards your hot mouth. "Shit!" He murmured under his breath as one of his large hands came to the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock as he fucked into your throat harshly. "Bet you like this don' you, baby?" You answered by humming out a muffled 'mhmm'.

"Course you do, your my good girl, after all. M'perfect baby. You belong to me. Nobody else can do what I do, huh? I've ruined you, haven't I?" His voice got more coarse and his hips sped up their pace. You could tell he was close. He always talks like this when his on the brink of coming.

You reached up to the hem of your strapless bubble-gum-pink dress and pulled it down, letting your plump breast fall from their confines. The silver of your pierced nipples shining in the harsh bathroom lighting.

Letting go of him, you grabbed both of your breasts and lifted yourself up into your knees, wrapping them around him as you continued to suckle on his tip.

"Holy shit! M'gonna cum princess, g'na cum down that pretty throat then m'gunna take you home and fuck that perfect little pussy" His pants were getting faster and faster as he chased his release.

You gazed back up at him through tears and subtle lash extensions. You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked harder, simultaneously moving your tongue around his tip and sliding your tits up and down his shaft.

"Holy fucking- shit baby, so fuck- so fucking good" His breathing was speeding up and shallowing out. You could tell he was about to cum, so you kept to what you were doing until you heard him suck in a quick breath and felt his hips stuttering.

His warm fluids flowing down your throat, so hot you thought it might be boiling. His hand came down unto the back of your head and his cock pushed to the back of your mouth, sending his cum further down your throat, giving you no choice but to swallow.

As you pulled off and caught your breath he spoke, "fuck baby, keep sucking me off like that and I'll buy you whatever the fuck you want"

You smirked, and wiped the corner of your mouth while standing up. Grabbing the straps of your dress you readjusted yourself, before turning to Sanemi. "Maybe I will then" you turned to the mirror in the bathroom. And reapplied your cherry lip-gloss.

He shrugged his pants and underwear back up and came behind you to rub your hips with his much larger hands.

You finished touching your face back up and turned to meet his lips in a soft kiss. You practically melted into him as his arms circled around your waist.

He pulled away and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together, and walking you out of the bathroom.

"Let's go get you that track suit, sweet girl"

#demon slayer #sanemi shinazugawa #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny #sanemi #tanjiro #inosuke x reader #hashira x reader #modern! au #black! reader #POC! reader #tw.degradation #anime #fiction #imagines #black stories

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javiersprincess · 9 months ago

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tags: 18+ minors dni / fem reader / fingering / reader is mexican / spanish / religious imagery / aftercare / hinted virginity loss / penetration /2.6k/ pwp - let me know if i miss something.

synopsis: javier escuella feels an all encompassing desire to have you. you feel it too, maybe even more.

Javier laughs into your lips, you are kissing him with the reverence of the faithful. You kiss sweetly, gently with the undercut of hunger he is all too happy to sate. Your form is soft beneath his hands, flesh pillabe like the strings on his guitar and the trigger of his revolver - the hollow of his palms filled with the curve of your hips. Javier nips at your lip until he can hear you hiss from the sting among your sighs from the pleasure of having him suck on your tongue.

“I can’t believe you - all I did was kiss you,” he stops to puff a breathe against your lips snickering at the dazed look on your face and the glistening spit on your lips, “and now you’re letting me fuck you.”

You whine, high and embarrassed but so unbearably needy and pressing yourself up against him like a cat in heat. There’s a little gold necklace threaded along the slopes of your collar - it glints against your untouched and unblemished skin like a comet, looping along your form in a circle until completion where it stays in perpetual orbit. Javier doesn’t know if he should be jealous of the thin necklace or not.

Your nightgown is off, spread out on the ground and Javier’s eyes are caught on the pendant that holds the face of La Virgen that glints in the lowlight of his tent - his eyes meet hers and he feels a shiver against his spine. Of course she would be there, looped above your too-good heart and appearing before him. It almost pains him to touch you, the holiness of your skin burning his palms that are too greedy to stay away.

You gasp his name and it brings him back to you - it brings his lips to your chest and you sigh as your hands twist on the fabric of his shirt clad shoulders like you are scared to touch him. You still have your bloomers, the white cotton stark against his tan hands and he presses another kiss right above your heart as it stutters tucked away in your ribs.

“Esta bien hermosa - you can touch me.” The pet name makes you tremble, whining when the word graces your flushed ears. Hermosa, meaning beautiful or gorgeous in the language your mother would sing you to when you were a girl. Your nostalgia brings desperation and it only serves to make you needier, wanting for more of the man above you like how priests desire the light of God. You think of that ill-stricken Reverend that wanders this camp and something aches in your chest as you let your hands go over the curve of his shoulders and anchor yourself there. Teeth aching with each suck on your tongue you don’t notice it when your bloomers are off until the brisk cool night breeze dances on your bare thighs. The skin there is hot and growing more so when he lets his hands settle on the smooth skin.

It’s almost comical how perfectly you fit in his roughed hands, his callouses from his knife so seamlessly accepted by the plush of your thighs. Like the velvet cushions rich men sit in their gilded train cars and golden stagecoaches. You go from velvet to wet silk with simple touches and you moan something sweetly into his ear as his face goes to your chest and his hands in between your thighs. The backs of his knuckles tease the wetness of your slick that leaks like honey and Javier lets his lips kiss the bud of your nipple softly but not without letting his teeth have their own kiss at the edge to make you whine.

“You are so wet, leaking for me - you’ll make a mess on my pants mi amor.” His teasing is endless and you can hear that smile you see whenever you blink. You jumble out a half-assed apology and it makes Javier laugh at you again. He must have you in quite the state if it’s making your perfectly trained manners fall off like wool when faced with sheep shears. His fingers have made their way to where you are the most needy - letting them pet along the slit and cup at your mound. You moan his name, oh so, softly when he squeezes gently, cradling your most delicate part the same way he cradles the neck of his guitar.

“Javi - please, please.” The shortened version of his name makes him grin, shivering pleasantly at how affection given only to him melts into his ears like syrup.

“Ya se, ya se. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you tonight.” Dark eyes are wicked at how they glint in the low orange light of his tent as he lets one finger slip in. He reclines himself back so he can watch how you take him.

Javier does not profess how he would take care of you every night for the rest of the nights you have in your life.

You whine thinly into the air, and it makes him hiss at how tight you are around his one finger.

“Relax, chiquita - I can’t take care of you when you’re all tense like this. Shh, shh,” he murmurs to you and in return you whine with a nod; pliable and sweet for him as you let your legs shuffle more open, working on letting him in and letting him deeper. One finger turns to two, and they curl into you cruelly without respite for how you weep and sniffle at the pleasure he tugs from you like music from his guitar strings. Your mouth is hanging open, drool shining on your lips as you let out thin little sounds.

You feel full, and pleasure dances along your spine as his thumb plays with the glimmering pearl of your clit. You whine - no sing his name like gospel and it makes something inside his stomach preen like a peacock.

Javier is dedicated, giving you an even pace and deep curls of his fingers to make you soft and loose for him. Dark brown eyes watch you with the precision of a predator - eagerly taking in how sweat drips down the middle of your breasts and how your jaw drops to make out little pants of his name just for him to hear. His fingers do just enough to bring you to the edge, and you stutter over your words as you push at his wrist with the desperation that is unbecoming of you. Etiquette and education are long gone from your mind as you beg him with an addled mind.

“Please, please not - not like that,” you stutter and let out soft little moans in between each word as Javier remains unmoved; letting his fingers stay inside you at their same pace, dark brown eyes taking in how even this almost makes you weep in pleasure. His cock stirs in his jeans at how it will be when he’s inside of you, filling you well beyond anything you’ve ever had.

“No, like this - it will hurt if you don’t cum now.” He mutters, voice thick with lust as he watches your hips twitch and jump when you have begun to hit the highest peak of your pleasure. Your body is eager for his fingers, tightening and fluttering around them as you leak down to his palm. Javier goes to shush you but you’re a good girl he realizes, watching you with a grin at how your hands shoot up to your mouth to muffle your long winded whines when you crash and cum for him. His voice is soft, reassuring you as you ride out your pleasure with the trembling of your hips and the quickened rising falls of your chest.

“Just like that - like that. There you go, there you go. Cum for me, give me this one and I’ll give you another.” He promises you, his accent thick as he watches your eyes go dark and unfocused as you burn with hot desire for him until he hears your broken voice mumble; “There’s more?”

He laughs. Teasingly, adoringly, lovingly and so many other words he can’t quite say.

“Si mi vida, there is always more with me. That I can promise you.”

Again, he laughs at the way he feels you twitch around his fingers that have stilled inside at the prospect of what more entails. He won’t admit to how his cock twitches in time with you tucked away in his pants.

You whine at the idea, hot at the image of being filled with all of him and whine again when his fingers slip out of you. Gossamer strands of your cum follow them, only to break and splatter along the inside of your flushed thighs. Javier smiles the same charming smile as when he sings and soothes you by rubbing your thigh with one hand while the other goes to undo his belt buckle.

You don’t see the length of him, only feel the heat of him against the petals of your cunt and it’s enough for you to yelp like some poor animal caught in a trap. Javier is bent over you, the build of his slim body covering you with his elbow supporting him above your head, eyes attuned to the half lit scene before him. You, sweating enough to make strands of your hair stick your flushed face with your eyes half lidded and mouth parted. His hips move without him thinking, coating his length in your glimmering release and rubbing against your still sensitive clit that it makes you flinch - mewling his name in a wet and defeated tone that makes him huff in half fondness-half teasing.

“Javi-” you whine, hotter than you have ever been and voice cracking when the head of his cock brushes past your entrance and makes its way in. You gasp into his mouth, one hand coming to cover your eyes and the other gripping at the fabric of his shoulder. Javier sighs against your lips and kisses you to muffle his own noises - higher pitched than he’d like to admit they are lost in between your two mouths as you take another inch of him. He is long, he knows this and you are tight ; tighter than anyone else he’s ever been with due to your lack of experience so he is slow with you despite how he wants to devour you entirely with one stroke.

Javier is tactical when he wants to be and is more than practical when he has to be so he controls himself, letting you have him inch by torturous inch. You are panting, throwing your head back in a way that lets him catch the tears that make it down your cheek and are uncovered by your hand. With one hand he bats away yours until your face - glistening and flushed is revealed to him as your mouth shines with drool from pleasure. His thumb goes to wipe away a tear and you move to feel the warmth of him more closely.

“Why are you crying hermosa, hm?” He asks you, sighing at how you take more of him so sweetly. You don’t respond only squealing and squeezing around him as you lose more of yourself on his cock. Half of him is seated inside you, enough for you to moan his name brokenly as you beg for more despite you wincing when he moves. Javier grunts and stops, letting the half of him that’s inside you stay still to let you breathe

“You can,” you pant, “you can put the whole thing in - please, please put it in.” You beg, and a thrill goes up his spine at the idea of seeing you weep from his cock being too much runs across his mind before he pushes it to the side. You are far too sweet, too delicate to be treated so roughly by him. You aren’t a working girl he can forget about come morning but the woman he wants to wake up to, which is why it’s easy for him to do what he thinks to be best.

He denies you.

“No, this is -” he sighs deeply at the way you feel around him - slick and wet and wanting for him to give you more until it aches. “This is enough. You’ll take the rest next time.” You whine at the thought and whine again when he pulls his slim hips back to fuck you like that. He gives you slow, careful thrusts with the hand that cradles your face sneaking down to rub at your pulsing clit with gentle precision. It’s almost too much for you, he notes and he feels bad that the sight of you weeping on half his cock, losing your mind with your eyes glassy from tears is doing it more for him than anything else.

You’ve always been a proper girl, ever since he saw you on your horse in the snow of Colter looking at him with the sweetest eyes framed by snowflakes. There’s a sick pleasure tugging at his stomach at how he has you now, manners gone and all you are now is debauched and drunk on him. It’s almost enough to make him finish and clearly it’s enough to get you there too by the way you weep out the little nickname you gave him.

“Javi, Javi, ’m going to -” He cuts you off with a punched out exhale, grinding his molders to keep from cumming inside by how you keep tightening around him like a vice.

“Go let go for me, mi amor - you’ve been so good.” With that you break, voice so ruined it cracks when you whine out babbles of precious thank yous in his ear as you come to completion a second and last time for the night. It’s painful, the last drag he gets of your cunt before he tugs at his sticky and slick cock to shoot his spend against the mound of your cunt. The sight of him dripping down to your twitching lower half more than makes up for it and he is more than willing to bend back over you to press gentle kiss after kiss on your panting lips. Your eyes had fluttered close and you babbled mindlessly under his gentle touches as you slowly came back down to look up at him with blearily eyes. Javier smiles at you with all the tenderness of the world when you wrap your arms around his neck - he manages to settle on his side with you in his arms and you tuck your face into his neck. You nuzzle the skin and sight softly, eyes red and half lidded tired from all he has pulled for you. Javier is soft with you, spoiling you by letting his nails scratch your scalp the way you like.

“Rest mi vida, I’ll clean you up.” he murmurs into your hair, presses a kiss to the crown of your head. You hum, murmur his name and a soft little confession of love before your eyes slip shut. You shiver when the soft fabric of a pocket square wipes at the mess of your swollen cunt and whine when you are moved to have your nightgown pulled over your head. Through your fussing Javier remains gentle, whispering praise as he settles you to his chest to sleep. When you awake you’ll be faced with teasing you thought you were quiet enough to avoid but that can wait. Now your eyes are heavy and Javier’s heartbeat is soothing - anything else can wait as for now you want for nothing else.

#lamb.writes #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella smut #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption x reader #rdr2 smut

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agentmarvel · 8 months ago

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i've been thinking about this for days, so here y'all go.

part i |♡| part ii

sugar daddy!könig x fat!reader

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

könig, whose bank account contains millions that he has neither the time nor desire to spend himself.

könig, who learns about the sugaring community from stiletto and roze, surprisingly, and educates himself, finding himself quite interested.

newly minted sugar daddy!könig, who joins a website, hoping to meet a sweet, plump little thing to keep him company in his off time, accompany him to events he really doesn't want to be at, and is willing to be patient with him and stay in touch, though spotty, through deployments in exchange for everything she could possibly want.

sugar daddy!könig, who matches with you after several less than ideal encounters, boring conversations, and dozens of left swipes over the course of a year. he finds himself immediately enamored with your photos; you’re stunning, exactly his type.

sugar daddy!könig, who has a hard time talking himself out of sending you a large sum immediately just for a moment of your undivided attention, but ultimately decides against it, lest you only be interested in those deposits off the bat.

sugar daddy!könig, who learns you're a full-time student with limited means of support, given you aren't exactly a local. he could be the support you need, he thinks.

sugar daddy!könig, who is so thoroughly pleased with how you conduct yourself through messages, neglecting the matter of his finances almost entirely while you try to connect with him personally. after nearly a month of exchanging messages, he makes his first offer - daily pictures for payments. nothing lewd, not yet, but he's interested in seeing more than the same six photos he looks at daily on your profile.

sugar daddy!könig, who sends €500 per photo per day. you catch on quick, doubling or tripling up on them after a week; one before you head to class, one before you go to bed. but after the third time he sends multiple payments, you send a message telling him it's not necessary.

>>> I like sending the pictures! Your reactions are always so kind, and it makes my day! 🥰

sugar daddy!könig, who turns bright red at that and insists that he keep up his end of the bargain, but gives extra attention to detail in his responses.

sugar daddy!könig, who grows anxious to meet you face-to-face; broaching the subject proves difficult when he struggles to find the right words. luckily for him, you're a bit bolder, inquiring about events he mentioned, hoping to find chemistry on an actual date of sorts.

sugar daddy!könig, who is all too quick to agree to meet up with you. he warns you that he's painfully awkward, apologizes in advance on a loop, and warns you of his behemoth stature - a factor of intimidation for many, and he doesn't want to scare you off.

sugar daddy!könig, who adores your acceptance of his self-perceived flaws and shuts down the insecurities that you voice on your own behalf. your photos are not deceptive; he can see that you're a bigger girl (exactly what he wanted), and no amount of lighting, angle, or editing that could hide the most beautiful things about you.

sugar daddy!könig, who spends the next several days in a spiral over the date, stressing every miniscule detail until he chews a hole in his lip. his hands shake as he buttons his shirt, leg bouncing with nervous energy during the drive, fidgeting while he awaits your arrival...

sugar daddy!könig, who almost leaves when you're a mere five minutes late, berating himself internally for being blinded by optimism. he has to set his glass down in fear of breaking it in his tense grip.

sugar daddy!könig, who has to pick his jaw up from the floor when he catches sight of the hostess bringing you to the table. you're wearing a shy smile and a gorgeous dress that hugs your curves perfectly, and for the briefest moment, he swears he's in love.

#könig x reader #könig x you #konig x reader #konig x you #plus size reader #fat reader #cod x reader #cod x you #jj writes

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perfectsunlight · 3 months ago

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[20] I CAN DO IT WITH A BROKEN HEART

warnings: mentions of abortion, malicious statements, mental breakdown

SBS GAYO DAEJUN, 2018

jennie dabbed her eyes, doing her best to not ruin her stage makeup. her chest felt tight, the screen displaying the most recent message from the father of her daughter. the air in the small bathroom stall felt almost suffocating as she stared at the words that had shattered her world just moments before.

the message played on a loop in her mind, the words searing into her memory like a brand. her hands trembled as she read it again, as if hoping that the letters might rearrange themselves into something less devastating. but they didn't.

the reality was unchangeable—he wanted to come back. but jennie refused to let that happen.

the idol’s breath hitched as she fought to hold back another wave of tears. she couldn't let herself fall apart, not now, not when she was moments away from stepping on stage. no one else knew what had happened, and she intended to keep it that way. the last thing she needed was her heartache becoming a headline for the media, or another dagger they could use against her or her daughter.

she forced herself to take a deep breath, closing her eyes and focusing on the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. inhale, exhale. inhale, exhale. it was a mantra, a desperate attempt to keep herself grounded.

there was a knock on the bathroom door, startling her from her thoughts. “jennie, five minutes!” a staff member called out, their voice cutting through the suffocating silence that had settled around her.

jennie glanced at herself in the mirror, her reflection a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil brewing inside her. her makeup was flawless, her outfit perfectly styled, every detail meticulously crafted to present the image of a confident, untouchable idol.

but behind her carefully constructed facade, she was unraveling.

she pressed her lips together, applying a final coat of lipstick to seal the cracks in her composure. “you can do this,” she whispered to herself, “for her sake.”

the memory of his words cut deep, sharper than she ever imagined. they echoed in her mind, pulling her further into the pain she was trying so desperately to ignore. jennie squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back the tears threatening to spill.

she couldn’t let anyone see her like this, especially not jane.

ivory was everything to her. her little girl was innocent, unaware of the turmoil that had just shattered her mother’s heart. jennie knew she had to protect that innocence, to shield her daughter from the pain that had been inflicted on her. she would fight through the heartbreak, smile through the tears, and give everything she had on stage, just like she always did.

a knock on the door startled her. “jennie, it’s time,” one of the staff called out.

i can read your mind

"she's having the time of her life"

she took a deep breath, forcing herself to stand up and smooth out her outfit. the weight of her heartbreak was heavy, but the thought of her daughter gave her strength. as she stepped out of the dressing room, she felt the familiar rush of adrenaline begin to course through her veins.

the stage was her escape, her sanctuary, and tonight, it would be the only thing holding her together.

“hey,” rosé gently grabbed her by the shoulder and looked her friend up and down. “are you okay?” jennie stiffened at her touch, her carefully maintained composure threatening to crumble under the concern in her friend’s eyes. she forced a smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and nodded.

“yeah, i’m fine,” jennie replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside her. “just tired, you know?”

the blonde studied her for a moment, her brow slightly furrowed with worry. “you don’t have to pretend with me,” she said softly. “i know something’s wrong. if you need to talk—” jennie shook her head quickly, cutting her off. ]

“not now. we have a show to do. i can’t let anything distract me from that.”

rosie hesitated, clearly wanting to press further, but she knew jennie well enough to recognize when the older girl had made up her mind. “alright,” she said, letting her hand drop from jennie’s shoulder. “just remember, i’m here if you need me.”

“thanks, rosie,” jennie whispered, grateful for her friend’s understanding.

with one last nod, rosé stepped back, allowing jennie to continue her path toward the stage. as jennie walked away, she could feel rosé’s eyes on her, the concern practically radiating off her. it took everything in jennie not to turn back, not to collapse into her friend’s arms and let out the sobs that were clawing at her chest.

but she couldn’t afford that luxury. not tonight, especially since she was performing her solo first.

there in her glittering prime

the lights refract sequined stars off her silhouette every night

the stage lights hit her like a wave as she stepped into view, and the roar of the crowd surged around her, a cacophony of sound that drowned out the pain, if only for a moment. jennie forced herself to smile, to move with the music, to perform like nothing was wrong. she was an expert at this—hiding behind the idol persona. no one in the audience could see the cracks in her facade, the tears she had fought so hard to hold back.

there was a sea of people, hundreds of faces blurring together into a moving tide of lights and cheers. jennie’s eyes skimmed over the crowd, her smile firmly in place as she hit every beat with practiced precision. her body moved fluidly, as if on autopilot, each step and spin rehearsed to perfection. but her mind was miles away, trapped in the echo of her ex-boyfriend’s harsh words, the cold reality of the breakup weighing on her heart.

she barely registered the applause between verses, her focus only snapping back into place when the next note cued her in. it was almost cruel, how well she could switch on the charm, delivering every line with a confidence that belied the turmoil churning beneath the surface.

meanwhile, underneath the stage, the other members were watching jennie’s performance from the monitors. they knew her well—well enough to see the subtle tension in her shoulders and the fleeting moments where her eyes didn’t quite sparkle like they usually did.

“unnie’s really pushing herself,” lisa murmured, biting her lip as she watched jennie hit her marks flawlessly. the maknae’s usual playful demeanor was replaced with worry, her eyes glued to the screen.

“she’s been like this all day,” jisoo added, her tone low and serious. as the oldest, she often played the role of the steadying force among them, but even she couldn’t hide the unease in her voice. she knew something was wrong, but she wouldn’t dare press jennie about it now—not when they were about to perform. “you know how she gets when something’s bothering her. she just locks it away and keeps going.” she continued, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied her friend on the screen. “it’s like she’s forcing herself, and it’s making me nervous.”

rosé was silent, her gaze fixed intently on jennie’s figure as it moved across the stage. out of the three of them, rosé felt the most attuned to her friend’s emotions. there was something deeper gnawing at their unofficial leader tonight, something that couldn’t be easily brushed off.

but jennie was stubborn—once she decided to bury her feelings, it was nearly impossible to get her to open up.

“she’s performing like nothing’s wrong, but…” rosé’s voice trailed off, her brow furrowed in concern. the slight tremble in jennie’s voice during one of the softer notes hadn’t gone unnoticed by her. it was so brief, so faint that the audience would never catch it, but to rosé, it was a crack in jennie’s usually flawless facade.

lisa looked between her members, uncertain. “should we say something when we come up? maybe cheer her up?” jisoo immediately shook her head gently. “not before the group stage. we can’t do anything now.”

“but we’ll keep an eye on her,” rosé said firmly, her resolve clear. “after the performance, let’s stay close. she might not say anything, but we’ll be there when she’s ready.” the conversation fell into silence as they watched jennie continue to command the stage, pouring everything she had into the performance.

her confidence was undeniable—hips swaying, eyes piercing through the crowd, a playful smirk on her lips—but to those who knew her best, it was almost painful to witness.

i can show you lies (one, two, three, four)

“okay,” the sound engineer’s voice echoed through her in-ears. “blackpink, stand by for group stage.”

the final beats of solo reverberated through the arena, and the applause thundered in response. jennie flashed her signature grin before the stage lights dimmed, giving her a brief moment to herself. but underneath the stage, her members knew that the show wasn’t over yet—for jennie or for them.

above them, the stage crew was already preparing for the next transition. jennie’s solo ended with a stunning pose, and the crowd roared in approval as the lights dimmed. for a split second, the screen caught jennie’s face as the spotlights faded—and that brief glimpse was all rosé needed to see the exhaustion hiding behind her friend’s eyes.

“we’re coming, jennie.” jisoo muttered to herself as they felt the platform beneath them start to rise.

as the girls were lifted up onto the stage, jennie was waiting for them at the center, already in position for ddu-du ddu-du.

'cause i'm a real tough kid, i can handle my shit

they said, "babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and i did

they knew better than to question her now. the best way they could support jennie in that moment was by giving her the strength to lean on them during the performance.

as the iconic beat of ddu-du ddu-du dropped, the girls synced up perfectly, falling into formation as if nothing was amiss. the energy was electrifying, the choreography sharp and fierce, and the crowd’s cheers were deafening.

but despite the adrenaline surging through them, each of the members was hyper-aware of jennie, subtly positioning themselves closer to her throughout the routine. they exchanged brief glances, small silent promises passing between them: we’ve got you.

for the audience, blackpink’s performance was flawless, another powerhouse display of charisma and talent.

jennie could feel the intensity of the moment—the lights, the beats, the deafening cheers—but her mind kept drifting elsewhere. despite the sharp movements and fierce expressions she was nailing, the image of her daughter, jane, lingered in the back of her thoughts.

is she okay? did she eat dinner properly? did she miss me today?

jennie’s heart tightened with every question. she knew jane was in good hands with her mom, but nothing could fully ease the ache of being away from her, especially after now knowing her father was back in the picture. it was the one thing jennie had dreaded the most—his reappearance, his attempts to insert himself into their lives after being absent for so long.

the thought of him trying to play the role of a father now, after everything he had done, made jennie’s blood boil.

does jane even think about having a dad? jennie wondered, trying to push the thoughts away. she didn’t want to believe that he could undo all the stability she and her mother had worked so hard to build. but the uncertainty gnawed at her, distracting her even as she performed in front of thousands.

rosé glanced over at jennie, sensing the tension radiating off her despite the bright smiles they all had to maintain. for a split second, their eyes met, and rosé’s brow furrowed in concern. but jennie looked away quickly, biting down on her lip and focusing on the choreography.

i can’t think about him right now, jennie told herself, even as the thoughts kept creeping in. i just need to get through this, then i’ll deal with it.

but the truth was, she had been dealing with it—every sleepless night spent worrying about how to protect jane from the storm that was threatening to come. she had sacrificed so much to keep her daughter safe, to give her the things she never had growing up.

but now, it felt like all of that could be at risk.

lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die

he said he'd love me all his life

on top of that, jennie couldn’t forget how he left her heart in ruins. the betrayal, the abandonment—it all resurfaced whenever she thought about him. she had moved on, or at least tried to, but the scars he left ran deep. the way he disappeared when she needed him most, only to reappear now, as if he had any right to disrupt the life she had built with jane.

what did he want? the idol wondered as she moved in sync with her members, executing each step with practiced precision. the stage lights blazed down on them, the fans’ cheers swelling as the performance reached its peak. jennie spun into her next move, but her mind was still clouded with thoughts of him.

why now? what could he possibly want after all this time?

as the intro of forever young approached, jennie forced herself to stay focused, her expression cool and confident, masking the turmoil swirling beneath. but her mind kept circling back to the message she had received earlier. he hadn’t said much, but the implications of his sudden reappearance were enough to send her spiraling.

she shot a quick glance at her members. lisa was next to her, radiating energy, while rosé and jisoo were singing their hearts out just a few feet away. they were giving it their all, and jennie hated that she couldn’t be fully present with them.

but the questions wouldn’t stop. she loved that man once, and despite everything, a part of her still ached at the thought of him, even now. it was a complicated mix of emotions that she couldn't entirely shake off.

but that life was too short

breaking down, i hit the floor

she still remembered the night he left, how she had sunk to the floor once he was gone, the tears coming in waves. how each breath felt like a fresh blow to her heart, and the emptiness in that cheap hotel room was palpable. she remembered how she called him again and again, her voice growing hoarse with desperation, but he never answered.

when he finally did call back, his tone was icy, devoid of any trace of the affection he once held for her. “jennie,” he hissed, his voice dripping with arrogance, “i'm done. if you call me again about this–” he paused, as if considering the right word, "—this mess, i will make sure you are ruined. you hear me?”

his lack of remorse was chilling. he spoke with a casual disdain, as though the life they had shared meant nothing. the way he spoke about their future, their child, was cold and indifferent. “get rid of it.” he continued, his words cutting through the air like ice. jennie’s heart sank as she heard those words.

they were not just a rejection of her; they were a rejection of everything she had hoped for. the future she had envisioned, the dreams she had nurtured, were dismissed with such casual cruelty that it left her breathless.

“think about what you’re doing,” he said dismissively. “you should be grateful i’m even talking to you. you’ve got no idea what this will do to me if someone finds out. just deal with it and move on.”

each word was a harsh reminder of the disparity between their lives. to him, their child was an inconvenience, a complication he was unwilling to endure. he spoke as though the responsibility was solely hers, as though his involvement was a mere inconvenience he could easily discard.

the finality in his voice made it clear that he had already moved on, leaving jennie to face the consequences alone. as the call ended, jennie was left in the silence of her own despair, the weight of his rejection settling heavily on her shoulders.

standing on stage, amidst the flashing lights and the roaring crowd, jennie was a performer hiding behind a mask of confidence. but beneath the surface, she was still that woman in the hotel room, grappling with the cruel words of a man who had abandoned her and their child.

all the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting, "more"

their voices echoed around her, demanding more energy, more smiles, more of the persona she had so carefully crafted. each cheer felt like a piercing reminder of the gap between who she was on stage and the turmoil she carried inside.

jennie danced and sang, her movements precise, her smile bright but hollow. each note she hit was a reminder of her inner strength, a battle against the pain she felt. she watched her reflection in the stage lights, seeing the shimmer of her costume and the fierce look in her eyes, but she felt far removed from the image she projected.

in those moments between the songs, as the music swelled and the audience roared, jennie tried to push her personal anguish aside. the performance was her sanctuary, a place where she could momentarily escape the reality of her life. but as each song ended, the memories of that cold, dismissive voice crept back in, making it hard to hold onto her focus.

the last notes of "forever young" rang out, and jennie took a deep breath, her heart still heavy with the echoes of the past. as the crowd cheered, she gave one final, dazzling smile, pushing through the last vestiges of her pain.

i was grinning like i'm winning, i was hitting my marks

'cause i can do it with a broken heart (one, two, three, four)

“blackpink, stand by for lift.” the stage manager’s voice crackled through the earpieces. signaling the end of their performance.

jennie took one last deep breath, trying to steady herself before the final bow. the energy from the crowd still buzzed in her veins, but the weight of her emotional turmoil was beginning to settle heavily on her shoulders. the familiar routine was a temporary respite, but reality was waiting just outside the stage doors.

as they made their way backstage, jennie forced herself to maintain a composed facade. her bandmates were still close, their concern evident in their whispered conversations and fleeting glances. jennie appreciated their support, even if she wasn’t ready to open up about the turmoil inside her.

the idol quickly changed out of her stage outfit, her movements automatic and second nature. every action was a reflection of her need to escape the intensity of the night and the prying eyes that followed her every step. her hands shook slightly as she slipped into a more casual ensemble, the comfort of familiar clothes offering a small reprieve from the glamorous but constricting stage attire. she avoided looking at herself in the mirror, focusing instead on the task of packing away her stage wardrobe.

the paparazzi waiting outside the venue loomed in her mind, a reminder of the ever-present scrutiny. she knew that once she stepped outside, the flashes would resume, capturing every tear she fought so hard to keep at bay. as jennie finished changing, her friends remained nearby, their quiet presence a source of silent support. rosie, jisoo, and lisa busied themselves with their own tasks, allowing jennie the space she needed to gather her thoughts.

i'm so depressed, i act like it's my birthday every day

i'm so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague

the moment arrived, and jennie took a deep breath, steeling herself for the ordeal ahead. rosie placed a reassuring hand on jennie’s back, while lisa and jisoo moved close, forming a protective barrier as they approached the exit. the crowd’s roar and the flashing cameras intensified as they neared the door.

as they pushed through the throng of flashing cameras, jennie’s gaze shifted momentarily. her eyes caught a fleeting glimpse of a familiar figure just ahead of her. the back of a man’s head, unmistakably recognizable, stood out among the crowd. he was surrounded by his own entourage, making his way to a nearby black van.

jennie’s breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat. the sight was brief but enough to send a wave of conflicting emotions through her. she could only see his silhouette, but it was enough to stir up a storm of memories and feelings.

the man who had once been the love of her life and the father of her child, was now just another person in the sea of flashing lights.

the sight was a painful reminder of the unresolved issues that lingered between them, a sharp contrast to the façade she maintained for the public. jennie struggled to keep her focus, pushing the unwelcome emotions aside as she stepped into the car.

i cry a lot but i am so productive, it's an art

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart

despite crying at least six times earlier that day, jennie had managed to channel her pain into her performance, her professional mask firmly in place as she danced and sang under the spotlight. it was a form of catharsis, an escape from the raw, unfiltered ache that seemed to follow her wherever she went.

“jennie, over here!” “lisa, look this way.” “rosé, jisoo, over here!”

despite the chaotic scene and the swarm of flashing cameras, jennie forced herself to keep moving forward. her exhaustion was palpable, her emotional armor beginning to crack under the pressure. she knew that her public image was as important as her private struggles, and maintaining it meant navigating the relentless gaze of the media with grace.

she made her way past the sea of reporters and photographers, her heart aching at the thought of her daughter and the life she wanted to provide for her. each step felt heavy, laden with the weight of her responsibilities and the personal sacrifices she had made. jennie couldn’t escape the feeling of being trapped between the demands of her career, the issues with her ex boyfriend, and the longing for a more personal connection with her child.

part of her even wondered what ivory would think when she found out who her father was. would she even tell her daughter who he was?

as they approached the car, jennie kept her gaze forward, determined to focus on the brief moment of respite she would find inside. she could feel the weight of the day pressing down on her, her heart heavy with thoughts of her daughter and the painful memories that had resurfaced.

the fans continued to scream, their enthusiasm contrasting sharply with jennie’s internal turmoil. the flashing lights from the paparazzi’s cameras were relentless, each lens capturing her in a moment she wished she could escape.

rosé, sensing jennie's distress, moved closer to her, offering a reassuring presence amidst the chaos. jennie simply gave her a grateful nod, appreciating the small gesture of support. lisa and jisoo remained close as well, their silent solidarity a source of comfort.

the car door finally opened, and jennie stepped inside, the noise of the crowd fading as the door closed behind her. the silence of the vehicle provided a brief reprieve from the sensory overload.

i can hold my breath

i've been doing it since he left

once all members were inside, the van slowly pulled away from the curb. jennie quickly sank into the seat, trying to steady her breathing as the car pulled away from the venue. despite the relative calm inside the vehicle, her mind was still racing, filled with thoughts of her daughter and the unresolved pain from her past.

as the van moved forward, jennie’s gaze inadvertently shifted to the vehicle right next to theirs. even through the tinted windows, she could make out the faint silhouette of a figure inside. her heart skipped a beat, recognizing the shape and the posture. it was him—his presence unmistakable, even in the dim light.

jennie’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding as if it were trying to escape from her chest. the sight of him, even from such a distance and through the darkened glass, triggered a torrent of emotions she had tried so hard to suppress.

she wanted to look away, to focus on anything else, but her eyes remained locked on that silhouette, unable to tear themselves away. the weight of her memories and the unresolved feelings she carried seemed to converge in that fleeting moment of recognition.

truth be told, she felt like she’d been holding her breath since the moment he left. the only times she felt like she could breathe were when she was with jane.

the van slowly rolled past, and the silhouettes faded into the background as they continued their journey. jennie exhaled slowly, her breath trembling as she tried to regain her composure. she glanced at her reflection in the window, her eyes reflecting the fatigue and emotional strain she had been hiding so well.

the car turned a corner, and the sight of the van vanished from view. jennie allowed herself to breathe again, though the ache in her chest remained.

i keep finding his things in drawers

crucial evidence, i didn't imagine the whole thing

by the time jennie got home, she practically collapsed in the arms of her mother. the exhaustion of the day, coupled with the emotional strain, left her feeling drained. jieun wrapped her arms around jennie, holding her close in a comforting embrace.

“i’m here,” jieun whispered softly, stroking jennie’s hair. “you did great out there.”

jennie nodded, her eyes brimming with tears she had held back all night. “thanks, mom,” she murmured, her voice small and hoarse. “where is she?” the idol asked, wiping her eyes quickly with the back of her hands. jieun offered a reassuring smile and gestured towards the mentioned girl’s room.

“she’s asleep, just like you wanted.”

jennie’s mind was still buzzing with the adrenaline from the performance as she walked past her daughter’s bedroom and into her own room. a familiar drawer stood in the corner, a ghost of the past that had haunted her for far too long. it was where she kept the last remnants of the relationship that had shattered her so completely—the relationship that had left her alone to raise their daughter.

tonight, that drawer would finally be emptied.

with a determined breath, the idol marched over and yanked it open. her cat-eyes skimmed over the contents: old letters, a bracelet he’d given her, a crumpled photo of them during happier times. each item felt like a ball and chain, dragging her back into memories she wanted to bury for good.

one by one, she tossed them into a trash bag with a cold finality. the letters went first, followed by the bracelet that she once wore so proudly. when her fingers brushed over the photo, she hesitated for only a moment before crumpling it even further and shoving it into the bag. there was no room in her life for these memories—not when they were tainted by the way he’d treated her, by the way he’d dismissed jane as if she meant nothing.

this was the end of his influence in her life. the end of him taking up space in her thoughts, in her heart, and in her home.

jennie was done letting him linger in the corners of her mind. more importantly, she was done letting him have any claim over her or her daughter.

i'm sure i can pass this test (one, two, three, four)

'cause i'm a real tough kid, i can handle my shit

the woman’s hands trembled slightly as she clutched the stack of old letters and the crumpled photo. standing in the dim light of her bathroom, she stared down at the remnants of a past she was finally ready to let go of. the faint scent of perfume from those days still clung to the pages, taunting her with memories of the man who had once held her heart, only to shatter it completely.

she reached into the cabinet under the sink and grabbed a small lighter, her grip tightening as she made the decision that had been brewing inside her for months. this wasn’t just about moving on—this was about erasing him entirely from the life she had worked so hard to rebuild.

jennie took one last look at the letters, tracing the words that once brought her comfort but were now nothing more than lies. then, without hesitation, she flicked the lighter, a small flame dancing to life at her fingertips. she held the flame to the edge of the first letter and watched as it began to curl and blacken, the paper hissing as the fire consumed it.

the flames spread quickly, licking up the sides of the letter until it was nothing but ash. one by one, she fed each letter to the fire, the bitterness of the past turning to smoke in the cramped space of the bathroom. the final piece was the photo, once a snapshot of what she thought was happiness. as she held it over the sink, the flames ate away at the image of his smiling face until there was nothing left but charred edges and a fading memory.

the idol stared at the ashes for a moment, feeling the finality of it all settle deep within her. there was something cathartic about watching the pieces of her past dissolve into nothingness, leaving behind only a clean slate.

she turned on the faucet, washing away the remnants of the burned paper, watching them swirl down the drain. the water carried away the last traces of him, taking with it the weight she had carried for so long.

with a deep breath, jennie shut off the water and stood in the silence of the bathroom. the scent of smoke lingered faintly, but she felt lighter, freer than she had in years. this was her moment of reclaiming herself, of choosing her future over the pain of her past.

satisfied, jennie tucked the lighter back into the cabinet and left the bathroom, the ashes now just a memory.

but before heading to bed, she had one more stop to make.

they said, "babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and i did

she quietly walked down the hallway and opened the door to jane’s room. her daughter was fast asleep, curled up in her blankets with a soft, peaceful expression that tugged at jennie’s heart. all the stress and turmoil of the day melted away as she approached the bed and gently lowered herself next to jane.

jennie leaned in and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, breathing in the comforting scent of her little girl. “i’m here, baby,” she whispered softly. “mommy’s always here.”

as she watched jane sleep, jennie’s heart swelled with a fierce protectiveness. he could never understand what it took to sit here with their daughter, night after night, through the sleepless nights, the fevers, the fears, and the little triumphs. he could never comprehend the sacrifices jennie had made to ensure jane grew up surrounded by love and stability.

the man who had abandoned them so callously would never grasp the strength it took to be both mother and father.

she was juggling the pressures of celebrity life while still doing her best to put jane first in everything. and now, with his arrogance and indifference still echoing in her mind, jennie’s resolve hardened.

“i won’t let him near you,” she whispered, her voice firm even as it trembled with emotion. “he doesn’t deserve to know you, to see the beautiful, smart girl you’re growing up to be. he walked away, and that was his choice. but i’m the one who stayed. i’m the one who’s here for you, always.”

jennie’s fingers lightly stroked jane’s soft hair, her chest tightening with a mixture of love and determination. “i don’t care what he tries to do. i won’t let him take you away, i won’t let him hurt you. you’re my everything, jane. and i’ll protect you with everything i have.”

she blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over, determined to stay strong, for jane and for herself. jennie knew that being an idol meant living in the spotlight, where even her most private moments were vulnerable to public scrutiny. but this—her love for her daughter—was sacred, and she would never let the shadows of her past cast a shadow on jane’s future.

after a few moments, jennie leaned down and kissed jane’s forehead once again, lingering in the warmth of her daughter’s presence. “you’re safe, baby,” she whispered. “as long as i’m here, you’ll always be safe.”

lights, camera, bitch smile, in stilettos for miles

he said he'd love me for all time

with a deep breath, jennie slowly stood and left the room, quietly closing the door behind her. the soft click of the door seemed to echo in the stillness of the night. she paused for a moment in the hallway, letting her back rest against the wall as she composed herself. the overwhelming emotions she’d held back all day threatened to surge forward, but she quickly pushed them down, reminding herself that she couldn’t break down in front of her daughter’s door.

she moved to her bedroom, deciding that the shower would be the place for her to let everything out.

the second she stepped under the spray, the tears she’d been holding back finally broke free. her sobs were swallowed by the sound of the rushing water, each one tearing through her as all the emotions she’d bottled up throughout the day poured out. jennie pressed her forehead against the cool tile, letting the water mix with her tears as she cried for everything she’d been carrying inside—the loneliness, the exhaustion, the pain of dealing with her ex, and the overwhelming fear of not being enough for jane.

the pressure of being jennie, the idol, was one thing. but being jennie, the mother, was another burden altogether. she felt like she was constantly balancing on a tightrope, trying to give jane everything she deserved while holding herself together for the world.

but that time was quite short

breaking down, i hit the floor

as the scalding water hit her skin, jennie felt her body start to tremble. she hugged herself, trying to find some sense of comfort in the midst of her breakdown. she hated feeling this way, hated that even in her own home, she couldn’t fully escape the shadows of her past.

but more than anything, jennie hated him—hated how he had turned her love into a source of pain, how he had made her doubt her own worth, how he had walked away so easily, leaving her to face everything alone. and yet, even with all that hate, there was a part of her that still hurt because of how much she had once loved him.

jennie cried harder, her sobs shaking her entire body as she let everything out—the fear, the anger, the sorrow. she stayed under the water until her tears finally ran dry and all she was left with was exhaustion.

slowly, jennie slid down to sit on the floor of the shower, letting the water run over her as she stared blankly at the tiles. her chest still felt tight, but she couldn’t cry anymore. she didn’t have the energy left to.

the worst part about being an idol was the fact that even though she felt horrible now, and would still feel similar tomorrow morning, she’d still have no choice but to plaster on a smile and perform. jennie knew that no matter how shattered she felt inside, the world expected her to be flawless, to be jennie from blackpink—confident, poised, and untouchable.

the pressure never let up, and sometimes it felt like her true self was buried so deep under the idol persona that she forgot what it was like to be just jennie, a woman struggling with heartbreak, a mother trying to protect her child.

she rested her head against the cool tile wall, letting the water continue to soak her hair. she thought about the endless schedule waiting for her in the morning—the interviews, the rehearsals, the meetings. there was no room in that schedule for weakness, no space for the heartache gnawing at her insides. but she had long since accepted that this was her reality.

no one was going to stop and ask if she was okay; they would just expect her to keep going.

all the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting, "more"

jennie shut her eyes tightly, the weight of it all pressing down on her. the loneliness felt unbearable at times, but she couldn’t afford to give in to it. she had jane, and that was what mattered most. her daughter was her anchor, the one thing in her life that was real, pure, and untouched by the world’s expectations. jennie would endure anything to make sure jane never had to feel the way she did right now—lost, broken, and alone.

with a shaky breath, jennie slowly pushed herself to stand. the water had turned cold, but she barely noticed as she reached for a towel and wrapped it around herself. she stared at her reflection in the fogged-up mirror, barely recognizing the woman looking back at her. her eyes were puffy and red, her face pale from exhaustion, but she knew she had no choice but to push through it.

she quickly dried herself off and slipped into a comfortable pair of pajamas. her body was running on autopilot, each movement mechanical as she moved through her nightly routine. but as she finally collapsed into bed, the emptiness she had been holding at bay all day rushed in like a tidal wave. lying in the darkness, she felt the overwhelming urge to check her phone—an old habit she couldn’t seem to break.

jennie couldn’t resist the urge to scroll through social media, knowing all too well that the night’s performance had already gone viral. she opened her favorite app, her heart heavy with a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. the trending tags were filled with blackpink and her name, accompanied by clips and photos of their performance. fans praised her charisma, her fierce stage presence, and how flawlessly she delivered a performance.

but those who only saw the idol on stage had no idea how broken she felt underneath the spotlight.

she kept scrolling, her thumb moving automatically as she skimmed through posts. some fans noticed the emotion in her eyes, speculating about what might be going on behind the scenes. “jennie looked like she was holding back tears during that last song,” one post read. “she’s such a pro, but i hope she’s okay.” another fan wrote, “no one performs like jennie, even when she’s clearly hurting. she deserves the world.”

i was grinning like i'm winning, i was hitting my marks

'cause i can do it with a broken heart (one, two, three)

the kind words made jennie’s eyes sting with fresh tears, but then came the harsher comments—the ones she’d learned to steel herself against. “she looks tired. maybe she’s losing her touch,” someone commented under a video clip. another user questioned her commitment to the group, speculating about why she seemed “distracted” lately. those words cut deeper than they should have, but jennie had grown used to this duality—the praise and the judgment that came hand in hand with fame.

she knew the fans meant well, but they could never understand the full picture. how could they know that behind every smile was a woman who had just burned the last traces of a man who shattered her heart? or that beneath her perfectly applied makeup was a mother fighting every day to protect her daughter from the man who abandoned them both?

jennie took a deep breath and locked her phone, tossing it onto the bed beside her. the more she tried to engage with her public persona, the more the lines between jennie the idol and jennie the person blurred.

but tonight, she couldn’t be the idol anymore.

i'm so depressed, i act like it's my birthday every day

i'm so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague (he avoids me)

she quickly switched to her contacts application. for a brief moment, she just stared at her screen with her thumb hovering over his name. even after everything he had done, a part of her still clung to the past, to the memories of who he used to be. but those days were long gone, and she knew deep down that holding onto this last connection was only hurting her more.

she had already burned his letters, destroying the last physical remnants of their relationship. this was the final step—the one that would completely sever whatever ties were still left between them.

with trembling hands, jennie opened his contact information. her heart pounded in her chest as she stared at his name, the memories of his cruel words replaying in her mind. "get rid of it," he had said about her daughter. the cold indifference in his voice still echoed in her ears, reminding her that he didn’t deserve to be a part of jane’s life—or hers.

taking a deep breath, jennie clenched her jaw and pressed “delete contact.” the screen flashed for a moment before his name disappeared, leaving an empty space where it used to be. it was a small act, but it felt like reclaiming a piece of herself. she wasn’t going to let him haunt her anymore.

he had made his choice to leave, and now she was making hers.

i cry a lot but i am so productive, it's an art

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart

jennie dropped the phone onto the bedside table and lay back against the pillows. the room was quiet, but there was a certain finality in the silence that felt liberating. she had carried the weight of that relationship for so long, letting it define her pain and shape her fears. but now, she was free of him—free to focus on herself and on jane.

as she pulled the covers up to her chin, jennie allowed herself to imagine a future where his shadow no longer loomed over her every decision. it wouldn’t be easy, and there would still be days when the hurt would resurface, but she knew that she had the strength to keep moving forward.

it was odd how the world knew everything about her. from the way she styled her hair to the rumors about who she might be dating—everything was dissected and discussed like it was public property. yet, the most crucial parts of her life, the battles she fought in silence, remained unseen. they didn’t know about the sleepless nights when she stared at the ceiling, replaying every moment she wished she could change.

they had no idea how every choice she made was weighed against the thought of what was best for her daughter, and how the love she had for ivory kept her going when she felt like crumbling.

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart

you know you're good, i'm good

from the outside, jennie’s life looked perfect—glamorous even. the designer clothes, the luxury cars, the millions of fans hanging on to her every word. but behind all the glitz and glamor, she was just a woman trying to find her way, trying to make the best out of the cards she’d been dealt.

sometimes, the idol felt as if she never grew up. she was surrounded by all these symbols of success—fame, fortune, and the endless applause—but inside, she felt like a child grappling with responsibilities far beyond her years.

yes, she got pregnant at a young age. but even at 22 years old, she still didn’t feel fully grown up. the responsibilities of motherhood had thrust her into a world of adult concerns far earlier than she had anticipated. sometimes, she felt like she was faking her way through adulthood, juggling the expectations of being a public figure with the demands of being a devoted mother.

jennie often wondered if she would ever truly feel like an adult, or if the weight of her responsibilities would always overshadow her sense of personal growth. but as she lay in bed, exhausted and emotionally drained, she took solace in the small victories and the love she had for her daughter. that love was a constant reminder that, despite the struggles and imperfections, she was capable of handling whatever life threw her way.

her journey was far from ordinary, but it was uniquely hers.

'cause i'm miserable

and nobody even knows

try and come for my job

inside her room, jane’s eyes remained wide open. she hadn’t been fully asleep, just resting in the comfort of her mother’s presence when she arrived. her grandmother had told her to pretend to be asleep after letting her stay up to watch her mother on tv. but now in quiet darkness, the weight of what she had overheard settled heavily on her small shoulders.

she didn’t know much about her father; he was just a mysterious figure in stories she’d never heard fully told. but she understood enough to know that he wasn’t a good person—especially if he made her mom cry like that.

even at her young age, jane could sense the tension in jennie’s voice, the way she spoke with a mix of love and sadness. her father wasn’t spoken about, and when he was brought up it was always in hushed tones or quickly changed subjects. the absence of his presence in her life made her mother’s emotions all the more vivid.

jane knew that her father’s name was like a shadow that loomed over their lives, even if he was never directly present. the stories she overheard or the subtle changes in her mother’s mood whenever the topic arose painted a picture of someone who had caused a great deal of pain. it wasn’t hard for her to piece together that he was a source of deep hurt for her mother.

tears welled up in jane’s eyes as she lay there, silent sobs shaking her small frame. she covered her mouth with her tiny hands, trying to stifle the sounds so her mom wouldn’t hear. she didn’t want to worry jennie, not when she could feel how hard her mom was trying to protect her. but it hurt, knowing that there was someone out there who should’ve cared for her, yet never did.

jane buried her face in her pillow, crying quietly. she clung to the comforting words jennie had whispered just moments ago: “you’re safe, baby.” it was all she needed to hold onto, even as her small heart ached with the confusion and hurt of a reality she was too little to fully understand.

ivory didn’t know how long she laid there for, but after a while, her sobs faded into soft sniffles, and she began drifting off to sleep. even in her drowsiness, a part of her held onto the hope that her mom would always be there, always keeping her safe from the shadows she didn’t yet fully comprehend.

and in that very moment, right before sleep overtook her, she vowed to protect her mother from the man who had caused her so much pain.

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