#though he did actually get his wife back
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bread-wizards · 2 months ago
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I'm just saying, Orym knows something about being stuck on the death of your first love. Of being constantly reminded of them and their death, seeing signs of them every day, making it that much harder to get over them.
But now he has found a new love, and despite the seeing Will several times, being reminded of him every time he looks at the moons or swings his sword, he is ready to move forward. "It's pretty great, living a lifetime." He wants to try again.
If anyone would have some wise words for Keyleth to help her get through this, it would be him.
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thursdayg1rl · 2 months ago
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one of the dramas from the wedding was one of the grooms cousins (on the other side not mine) just not wearing the clothes we had made for her specifically
#i think they cost smth like 1 lakh rupees so that is crazy#she is such a bitch i cannot believe it#when asked about it she just laughed in our faces and said it didnt fit.. it was custom made and she was the one who sent the measurements#and all of the other cousins wore matching ones in different clothes#she just thinks shes better than us.. bc she managed to go to the us and now has a fake american accent also#i dont get this inferiority complex our people have. it is ridiculous.#i told everyone we should we should ask for the clothes back since she clearly doesnt want them but they said it was a gift so no#actually i think she just wanted to be 'modern' and our clothes were a traditional gharara#so she came with her legs out :/#tbh she looked bad anyways so . actually idgaf#she literally did not acknowledge me or my sister at all i think she considers us . i dont know like their maids that were brought along#its actually crazy like. she was acting like she was closer to the bride and groom than we were and we were just some randos#its basically my brother who is getting married and we havent spoken to this girl for years?? she was the reason my aunt came to the uk#bc she used to beat up my cousin (who got married) when he was little and my aunt didnt want to be around her and her mum didnt control her#imagine breaking the family up and being hated by the immediate relatives of the groom and acting like you are the vip guest..#havent told my cousin how she acted with us yet bc partially its like whats the point shes nobody#but i feel like his wife thinks shes super nice bc of course she was sucking up to her#i dont want to be a bad sister in law and cause problems so i'll just keep it to myself#not like anyone will talk to her again so what does it matter#it was nice seeing our side of the family though#especially one of my great aunties who accoring to my sister i was 'glazing' lmaoo#maybe its bc they know i am my mothers daughter and the other side dont?#i feel like its still unacceptable behavoiur though. just rude for no reason you could at least say hello
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spaceandbones · 3 months ago
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is there any merit at all in a Nights Watch/Widlings oppositional arctic research outposts AU because I think you can carry over msot of the major themes and also a lot of gay sex
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anotheruntitledsong · 9 months ago
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i did like the hidden palace but (SPOILER if anyone hasn't read it?) i'm genuinely so annoyed at how Arbeely is handled like... I wish i could be sad but i'm just fucking irritated. I was overly invested in him and that's def why but i just feel like they did him dirty
#the golem and the jinni#i was scrolling goodreads and the take i kept seeing was 'oh I wish Arbeely could've had his family too bad the jinni FUCKED IT UP'#but idk that's just not how i read him. like thats not where i feel the problem is#his whole shtick is being content as the jinni's foil and like! things can change! but the way it's done leaves him totally unresolved#which in turn means the jinni's shit is also never getting resolved because there is like no way to#when Arbeely describes his future family in the first book it's all 'someday... vaguely...' and AGAIN! what you want can change!#and honestly it's really interesting and sad that he makes this sacrifice for the jinni#but it's a layer of complexity that like clashes with how little he is there for and how little the author's invested in him#and like the way the no marriage literally did not ruin his life at all... sure it sucked but the man is still like idk rich#what has continuously fucked with him throughout both books is that he wants (or at least spends half his page time thinking about)#emotional connection to the jinni in a human way#which is something the jinni cant\wont give him even though he's basically Arbeely's only close friend#(besides ig maryam who was rlly funny hinting at her dislike for the jinni like someone trying to get their friend to dump their toxic bf)#anyway the vibe in the first book is that he only thinks about wanting a wife when the jinni is being a dickhead#BECAUSE the jinni eases arbeelys loneliness by just being there because at the end of the day that's what humans need#but then it's made really weird in the second book by Arbeely getting 'trapped' by the jinni (and yet they just grow further apart)#which means that the only thing arbeely actually spent half his life discontent with and then literally died without is not a wife#it's emotional intimacy with the jinni. which is insane to me#arbeely is obviously already tragic but this seems TOO tragic entirely because the book doesn't give af about addressing it#if it was like a plot thing then all of the above would be fine and gutwrenching because it ties back into the jinnis self isolation#BUT IT'S NOT. like i get arbeely isn't that important to the plot but he was important to the jinni and the jinni was important to him#alsoo necessarily disclaimer i'm not trying to say he's in love with the jinni or anything like that#although a queer arbeely (divorced from the above idea) would also been interesting cuz I dont think the jinni has a grasp on homophobia#so idk theyd be keeping each others secrets (arbeely x the biscuit man? JOKE)#BUTTTT! I don't believe he needs romantic energy! him and the jinni having awful vibes up until arbeely's literal death is what bothers me#The jinni is a bad communicator ik but come on... not once? not even before the diagnosis? The jinni also thinks about how distant they are#could they not talk a little? for me? there are ways to do it within the bounds of their characters FOR SURE#im sure this is the point but i do dislike it either way. anyway sorry arbeely u remind me of my uncle#the hidden palace
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nessvn · 21 days ago
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I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABT RAYMONDE
#p.s.#la robe de laine#how she loses her agency the moment cernay sets his sights on her and only gets it back in death#raymonde!!! she accepts a proposal against her best instincts bc of pressure from her mother and from cernay.#from the moment she marries him she becomes his plaything almost#and it happens slowly but he literally consumes her in his desire to turn her into his perfect wife the perfect high society woman#which she goes along with out of love? obligation? but not out of her own desires#when he starts vouvoying her she's shocked and hurt but goes along with it bc it's what he's decided they should do#she goes to paris with him even though she expresses how frightened the idea makes her. 'à paris j'aurai peur...'#she lets him sculpt what should have been a tender intimate image of her#only for him to guilt her into letting him show off his artwork even after she begs him 'ne me livrez pas' bc she can't bear it being seen#she goes to his salons even though she hates them. and wears dresses that she feels naked and exposed in. all bc he demands it of her#and you can argue that she does have agency bc she lets him do these things to her but is it a choice if he's manipulating her?#and if she protests almost every time?#sometimes only non-verbally sure but through his narration we knowwww that he knows she doesn't want it and pushes her anyways#bc she's not a person to him she's a stupid little girl that he's doing a FAVOUR to by marrying and by putting her through these ordeals#and weirdly enough her death is the one part of their relationship that was entirely her choice.#'j'avais accepté pour ne plus t'être à charge...de mourir...ne le vois-tu pas ?'#although FUCK now that i'm thinking abt it even that was not actually her will.#bc she doesnt choose to die for his sake or for his freedom. she ACCEPTS that he's going to kill her for the sake of his freedom...#and it doesn't matter the method of the killing. he's the one rains violence after violence down on her soul#until her heart gives out#and her acceptance isn't really a choice.#idk like cernay hears the lord burleigh story and the 'elle avait désiré s'en aller pour me débarasser d'elle' and sees raymonde in it#but that's HIS perspective HIS justification HIS narration.#all we can say based on raymonde's words is that there was a time that she did not want to die#and even when she is dying this is something she at best 'accepts' not something she demanded.....#even cernay saying 'quel était ce mystérieux pacte qu'elle avait consenti une première fois...qu'elle renouvelait en actions de grâce...'#'pacte/consenti' that's his narration those are his words....#SORRY SORRY THIS BOOK MAKES ME INSANE.
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kbwrites · 4 months ago
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Heated Waters
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synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.
⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it
⚝ wc: 1.9k
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“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”
Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.
Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”
Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.
“Twice a week, I suppose…”
Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.
“What about you, Higuruma?”
“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.
Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.
“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”
But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”
Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.
It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.
But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.
“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.
“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.
The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.
“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”
Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”
“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”
Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”
“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.
Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”
“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.
“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.
“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”
Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”
Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.
“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”
���Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”
Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.
“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.
Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.
He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.
The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.
You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?
You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.
“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.
“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.
“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.
Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.
“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”
A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.
Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.
His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”
“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.
Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.
“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.
“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.
He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.
“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.
“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”
He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.
He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.
You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.
“g-gonna cum!”
“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.
“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.
You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.
Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.
You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.
“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.
Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.
His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.
Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
“I won’t make that mistake again.”
Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.
He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.
“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”
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allisonreader · 6 months ago
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🌲
Murder Makes A Detective is one of those stories that I don't know if I will actually ever do anything fully with it. It's one of those things that started off as an AU discussion among my friend and I. Then me coming to the conclusion that if I were to write something more for it than I have, that there's no reason for it to be an AU and would probably be better for it to be an original work.
Now the actual premise of the story is that the main character becomes a detective after one of her parents was brutally murdered when she was a child (probably her mom) and her other parent was thrown in jail (innocently, probably her dad) for many years (15-20, but at least 10) before her parent finally wins an appeal once technology has advanced more from the original crime. So because of the main character's experience with her mother's death and father's unfair jailing, she wants to and does become a detective so she can try and keep that from happening to other people who are going through the worst moments of their lives.
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sleepyhoon · 1 month ago
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TWO MOONS - L.HS
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pairing. plug!heeseung x reader
genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!
word count. 4k+
warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]
synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.
a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe
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Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed. 
Fucking ridiculous.
It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.
“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”
Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”
“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.
“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.
You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”
“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”
The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.
He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies. 
It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.
His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.
“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”
“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”
“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.
“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”
“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.
“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.
“I am not her bitch.”
He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.
Heeseung * 2:47 AM
[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo
YN * 9:06 AM
omggggg  ur the fucking best how much??
You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.
Heeseung * 10:31 AM
1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more 
YN * 10:40 AM
no cash? :(
Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.
YN * 10:41 AM 
[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(
It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.
Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.
Heeseung * 10:50 AM
Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol
YN * 10:59 AM
omg :o are u sure?  don’t want u to lose out on money >.<
Heeseung * 11:11 AM
It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky
YN * 11:12 AM
thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o
There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.
His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.
Heeseung * 11:13 AM
Must be :)
After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.
There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.
Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.
He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.
Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.
However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.
“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.
“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”
Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”
Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.
Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.
He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.
You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”
Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not…you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.
“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.
You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”
“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”
Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.
He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”
You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”
“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”
You grimace, shaking your head in response.
Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”
“I don’t know, Hee…”
“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”
It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”
Heeseung nods, “I swear.”
You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer. 
A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.
You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.
You shake your head, “I’m not.”
“You are, I feel you shaking.”
“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”
Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.
Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.
“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.
You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.
Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.” 
Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.
Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”
You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”
“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”
You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”
“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”
“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”
Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.
“Mind if I try something?”
You perk up, “Try what?”
“I do all the work but you still get high.”
You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”
He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”
Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”
Here goes nothing.
He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.
You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.
“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.
Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.
“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”
He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”
Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.
As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.
On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.
You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.
Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.
You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.
You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”
He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.
You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.
Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth. 
You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”
You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.
It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.
His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.
He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”
You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”
“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”
His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.
“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.
Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.
Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.
He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”
“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.
Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.
“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”
“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”
“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door. 
“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”
You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”
You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”
“I do! Just let me, please.”
“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”
“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”
He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”
“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”
A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”
Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.
He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.
“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”
“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.
This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”
Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.
Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.
He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.
“H-Heeseung…hold on…”
He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.
He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.
You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”
He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”
“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”
His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”
You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”
Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.
“No.”
He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”
“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
2K notes · View notes
screampied · 8 months ago
Note
just need a oneshot where toji being so extremely soft with his pregnant wife.😔
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៹ content tags. ៹ fem! reader, pure fluff, toji's a big softie, calls reader 'mama' + 'baby' & 'darlin'
wc. 2.0k
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toji rubs his eyes, pure static forming into his irises for a bit as he’d awaken up from his nap. with a quick glance at the clock, it read two thirty. in the background played the intro from some old western movie that was on repeat. ah, ever since you’ve gotten pregnant he’s always been staying up with you, ruining his sleep schedule in the process. not that he necessarily minded, you were his wife and he’d do anything for you,
his ears twitch a bit as he hears a sudden ruffling noise of feet — verdant eyes of his focus on you and it’s you trodding towards him and he smiles. “heyy,” he murmurs in a drowsy tone, he figured you’d be awake. toji stares at you so lovingly, the cute baby blue nightgown you wore, winnie the pooh slippers that dragged across the fleecy carpet. with a yawn, he pats his lap for you to take your seat. “y’er lil waddle never stops bein’ cute, mama.”
“stop.” you frown with a pouty look, he’d always tease whenever you do your cute little walk. he grows to adore it, the cute rounded bump on your belly only getting larger. pretty soon, you were about to reach your second trimester. time flew by so fast, it was almost like before you could blink, you’d be meeting your beloved new baby. you slowly make your way onto toji’s lap and he slings an arm around you. he smells good, you were a bit tired already from that ten second walk, cute..
“sorry baby,” toji utters in a soft voice, kissing the back of your head as you relax into his embrace, leaning back. “was gonna wake ya up but ya looked so peaceful,” and he brings a kiss near the inner crevice of your neck. “miss me already?”
you still remain with the cute glowering expression. with a sigh, you shrug. “yes, actually. missed you a lot.”
“awww,” toji caresses against your thighs, his touch was delicate and gentle. as he spoke in a gruff voice, he nips a few more kisses toward the corner of your neck as you faced the other direction. “missed you more. ‘n i missed our girl too,” and that catches you by surprise, he’d always refer to the baby’s gender as a girl. as if he could read your mind, he chuckles before leaning his head against your shoulder. “whaaat? got a feelin’ ‘s gonna be a girl.”
“i think it’s gonna be a boy,” you mumble, feeling your heart flutter a bit. oh, it was always like this between the two of you. the constant banter of the gender, toji just knew it was gonna be a girl while you thought otherwise. he’d be happy with either or though. you, likewise. toji watches with half-lidded eyes as you turn your body a bit to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. you plant a kiss on his chin, lips brushing against his stubble and he hums in amusement. “did you get any sleep at all? you have eye bags, ‘toj.”
“ah, ‘m fine,” he grins at your concern, the scar slashed near the right side of his lip twinging in response. you were so cute—the pregnancy glow you had bestowed on you, he could stare at you all day. toji leans in to kiss your nose, yet he notices your deadpan. with a grunt, he surrenders.
“okay okay, the most i got was maybe four-ish hours,” and the look of worry on your face made his heart twist. toji pats your head, smoothening his tone. “don’t worry, baby. it was for a good cause. was up all night readin’ that book you bought like last week.”
with your brows furrowing in confusion, your lips part at your abrupt realization. “oh— the pregnancy fact book?” and then you giggle. “really? i thought you said books were boring, toji.”
“trust, they are,” he sulks, bringing his wrist to rub his eyes. you take a brief glance at his broken watch you bought him for his thirtieth birthday. despite it being unable to tell time anymore, he still flaunts it, all because it was a gift from you. with a low sigh, toji moves a few strands out of your face. “but, ‘m willing to try new things for you—er, for us. and it’s quite informative, it told me about y’er strange cravings ‘n it checks out.”
you frown. “what’s wrong with my cravings? you told me you like them.”
“well, darlin’ i love you a lot okay,” and he paints a wet kiss against your cheek. “but if i have to eat another peanut butter pickle sandwich with you, ‘m gonna lose it.”
“it’s not that bad,” you protest, bringing a palm near your stomach to rub it. the bump was easily growing as the weeks progressed—you couldn’t help but be excited once the week of forty rolled around. “you just have a bland appetite.”
toji rolls his eyes. “peanut butter and pickles, baby. not jelly, pickles. pickles?” and you look at him, he’s gently holding both of your shoulders before you giggle. “and i thought nothin’ could top the toast ‘n ice cream.”
you deadpan again. “okay now you’re just being dramatic.”
“i love you,” he boops your nose. “i love you and y’er weird food cravings,” and toji’s eyes trail down toward your tummy. so cute and round, he gingerly moves the fabric of your gown up to reveal your skin, a palm ghosting against your belly. “any cramps today? pain i should know about?”
“no,” you hum, immediately relaxing from his touch. the warmth of his hand made your breathing slow a bit. he moves it around in a smooth circular rotation before brushing a thumb against your belly button. “kinda scared toji.”
leafy, viridescent eyes meet its way back up to yours before his face softens. “what for, darlin’? good scared or bad scared?”
in a sweet, timid tone, you puff out a single shaky breath. “like ��� both i guess? i’m excited of course but ‘m kinda scared. we’re having a baby, toji. pretty soon i’ll be on my third trimester,” and he’s so attentive as you’re talking, quite literally getting lost in your eyes. who knew that you could turn this man into such a soft sap, he adored you. as you continue to rant, toji strokes your cheek with a warmhearted simper. “i watched lots of videos about birthing and it looks scary.”
“not gonna lie to you, baby. ‘s gonna be scary, but y’know what? ‘m gonna be right there with you,” and he strokes a thumb against the enlarging stretch marks growing against your belly. he’s gentle, tracing a finger against each one before his eyes avert back up to you. “i’ll be right beside you. holdin’ y’er hand ‘n all,” and he kisses the crown of your head. “y’er gonna be the prettiest mommy. our girl’s lucky to have you. i’m lucky to have you.”
for some reason, those last few words struck right through the veins of your heart. mentally, you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry—
but alas, your eyes start to swell up, bottom lip quivering and toji notices immensely at your change of body language.
“awww, was that too much?” he purrs, bringing you towards his chest. you sniffle, your nose digging into his neck and an arm of his cradles you. toji starts to rock you, he presses another kiss against the top of your head before humming. “didn’t mean ‘ta make ya cry, darlin’ but ‘s true. ya don’t gotta worry that pretty little head, ‘m gonna be right here for anything..”
a solid tear drops against his tank top before your chin rests against his chest. you slowly look up at him with that familiar pouty expression before he swipes a thumb against your eyes. “cutie,” he takes your tears away, your lashes all damp and long. “y’er even more emotional because of the baby too. hormones, aw yeah i know these facts by heart.”
“you’re such a dork,” you wipe your face with a laugh, the mood suddenly light again. toji was gonna be spewing out pregnancy facts at you all day, you knew that now. whilst you sat up, trying to re-collect yourself, you speak in a soft voice. “but really, thank you toji. i love you,” and you grab ahold of his hand. your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing it tight. “you’ll be a great daddy.”
“heyy girl, don’t make me cry now,” he teases, a thumb of his running across the softness of your hand.
toji’s face relaxes, the more he stares into your eyes, the more he falls more and more in love.
toji was just as excited as you, maybe even more.
he couldn’t wait to start this new milestone, this new journey with you. a baby, the two of you would be proud new parents. the thought of it alone brings a soft smile to his face before he leans in to kiss you.
you return the gesture,
closing your eyes while feeling his warm lips mash against your own. toji was so weak for you, happily so.
life was worth living for him again now that he had you and the growing baby in your stomach. once you met him, he thought he’d never move on. he was a broken man who came to the mere conclusion that he had no purpose— all until you came along. toji didn’t believe in second chances, but maybe he’d start. you were his everything, and he couldn’t have been anymore grateful to have you in his arms at this right particular moment.
after a while, the kiss departs and toji smears a thumb against your glossed lips. “you drive me crazy,” he whispers, soft jade like irises peering into yours for about fourteen seconds before he sneaks a kiss near your jaw. “oh, you just reminded me. i ordered somethin’ the other day.”
with your interest piqued, you watch as he grabs out his phone— toji opens some shopping app, swiping a thumb near the check out section before showing it to you. what you were staring at was a cute huge pink sticker for cars that displayed the words of, ‘BABY ON BOARD!’
“you’re so cute,” you lean in to hug him, finding his enthusiasm adorable. a hand of his strums against your back before he leans against the couch. “you’re really set on it being a girl though, huh?”
“yeah,” he presses his nose against yours. “or if it’s a boy, we can name ‘em toji. such a manly name.”
your eye twitches. “one of you is enough,” and he smirks, feeling your thumb play against his scar. “but toji, ‘s like the afternoon. you should go back to sleep.”
“not tired,” he shakes his head, wrapping two arms around your sweet frame. your scent had him always wanting more of you, so sweet. toji pats your back gently before his face buries into your neck. “i’d rather stay up ‘n talk with you.”
“but i was gonna go back to sleep,” you pout.
toji huffs with a smile, kissing the shell of your ear. “oh, you want me back in bed, ‘s that it? darlin’ you could have just asked.”
you blankly stare at him and he guffaws, standing up and pulling you with him. “ah, c’mon. let’s go sleep for another fifteen hours i guess,” he teases, and he helps you walk. toji gawks at your cute waddle. so cute, you felt like you had so much water stored in you. entirely full, your heels slide against the floor before you hold onto your husband’s bicep. “there we go, one step at a time.”
“i’m not a baby, toji.” you mutter, secretly feeling yourself get hot from his doting affection. he’s holding onto you and you’re holding on to him.
“y’er my baby,” he corrects, and once the two of you reach the empty bedroom filled with infant supplies and boxes of baby furniture, you take a seat on the edge of the mattress. toji towers above you as you sit, cupping your face with a sly smile. “wife,” he coos in a gentle voice, two thumbs fondling against both sides of your temples. “i love you. never forget it, yeah?”
“i .. love you too toji.”
he hums. “heh, before we sleep though. how about some pickles?” and your face lights up.
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navybrat817 · 1 month ago
Text
Back Off, He's Mine
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Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You put an agent in her place after she flirts with Bucky.
Word Count: Over 2.5k
Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader or Bucky), protective vibes, catty behavior, possessive vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Inspired by an anon ask asking for Bucky's wife to stick up for him. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky stared at you from across the break room table, his pretty blue eyes not blinking as you looked back at him. The two of you were locked in a lengthy staring contest and you didn’t want to lose. But as the air in the room began to dry your eyes and he flashed you a beautiful smile, you couldn’t stop yourself from blinking. And the moment you did, he struck.
Snatching the last bit of the beloved pastry right from the middle of the table.
“Damn it,” you muttered, crossing your arms when he chuckled. “You cheated.”
“Oh, yeah?” he smirked, making a show of taking a slow bite. Your eyes followed his tongue licking his lips and you pressed your thighs together without thinking. The bastard made eating look sexy and he didn’t even take a full bite. He was taunting you. “How did I do that?”
“You cheated by existing.” You gestured to him, your smoking hot husband in his black t-shirt and tactical pants. To the person who made those clothes, you saluted them. “And you have serum in your veins, so I’m pretty sure you don’t have to blink as much as I do and that’s an unfair advantage.”
He chuckled again, graciously passing over the last small bite of the pastry. Your eyes lit up in thanks, popping it in your mouth with a moan. It was true love to share food like that. “I don’t think that’s how the serum works,” he teased. “And you’re a goddess, so isn’t that cheating, too?”
“Okay, but I’m not actually a goddess,” you countered, though he did make you feel like one.
His eyes softened, leaning across the table and crooking his finger. “Yeah, you are,” he whispered, kissing your lips once you met him halfway.
Before you could deepen the kiss, a shrill voice rang out in the breakroom. “Sergeant Barnes! There you are!”
Bucky’s cheek twitched as he settled back in his seat. The voice echoing in the room would’ve been enough to make anyone wince, but his enhanced hearing made it worse. He worked hard to block out noises so he’d be comfortable, and your eyes instantly narrowed at the person who brought him discomfort.
You recognized her after a moment, a pretty woman who would likely fall out of her top if she sneezed too hard. She hadn't worked there long, but she had her eye on Bucky from the start. She always flirted with him, tried to stand close to him and push her chest close, and he always dropped in the conversation that he was a married man. Apparently she didn’t get the hint that he wasn't interested. Either that or she was into taken men.
“Hi, agent,” Bucky politely said.
“Agent. Always so formal,” she giggled, dragging a chair over from another table and taking a seat without asking. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Barnes. You're a hard man to track down.”
Bubbly agents didn’t bother you in the slightest. You appreciated anyone who could stay upbeat in the line of work you dealt with. It wasn’t the enamored look in her eyes either that bothered you because you understood people wanting Bucky and you were secure in your relationship. No, what bothered you was that he had clearly been kissing his wife and she pointedly avoided looking at you after interrupting. That was just rude.
It also bothered you how uncomfortable Bucky looked when she moved her chair closer to him, his shoulders stiff and smile not reaching his eyes.
“Been spending some time with my wife,” he said proudly, reaching across the table to take your hand. You dipped your head down with a small smile, your heart still doing that funny flip like it had since the moment you met. He even managed to clear out the room so you two could be alone. “We were just finishing up.”
She didn’t spare you a glance as she set a hand on his metal arm. His cheek twitched again, squeezing your hand. It took a lot of effort for you to not knock her back from the table for touching him without his permission. “Excuse me,” you began, your tone even. “I don’t-”
“Do you think you could spar with me later?” she cut you off and either didn’t see or ignored your glare, leaning forward in her seat to make her chest stick out more. Bucky didn’t look. “I’ve been having trouble with a couple of moves and you’re so good at them,” she added, her eyes on him like she wanted to eat him up.
Which wasn’t going to happen.
“I don't think…” he stopped when her fingers trailed higher.
“Please, Sergeant?” she pouted.
Your eyes went back to your husband to get a read on him and make sure he was okay. He wasn't. His smile still didn't look right and his back was ramrod straight. Squeezing his hand seemed to ground him since he breathed a little easier, though your anger was simmering.
“I, um, don’t mind sparring if you really need the help,” Bucky began, gently pulling his arm away. “But you interrupted my time with my wife.”
Her smile faltered while yours widened. Bucky didn't like anyone cutting you off, whether that was your time together or interrupting you speaking. “What?” she asked.
“Hi there. Been sitting here the whole time.” You wiggled your fingers when she finally looked your way. “Excuse us for a second,” you said, avoiding her stare the way she avoided yours. “Bucky, do you think you can wait outside? This agent and I need to have a little chat.”
Your husband looked like he was trying not to laugh and you would take laughter over discomfort any day of the week. “Be nice if you can,” he teased, pressing a featherlight kiss to your hand. “I love you, baby,” he whispered.
“I love you, too,” you whispered, something unspoken passing between the two of you.
Defending each other was second nature, always would be.
Bucky didn’t immediately leave the room when he stood up. Instead he rounded the table so he could bend down and kiss your mouth, too. You smiled as it lingered, your heart skipping a beat. “Don’t keep me waiting out there long, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered.
“I won't, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.
Straightening up, he gave a small nod to the agent for her sake. “Come find me later if you still want to talk about sparring. Maybe I can find someone for you.”
“Okay, Sergeant,” she smiled, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. That look wouldn’t last.
You waited until Bucky was gone to face the agent, who stopped smiling the second your husband was out of sight. Leaning back in your seat, you crossed your arms and asked point-blank, “You trying to fuck my husband?”
The wide-eyed expression was priceless when she realized you weren't asking as a joke. “What are you... I just asked him to spar,” she tried to brush it off.
“Please, don't insult my intelligence,” you said. It was beneath both of you to do so. “I get why you want him. Besides being one of the sexiest creatures to ever exist, he’s a good man. Polite, probably treats you with respect. More than most of the men around here.”
She shifted away from you and nodded. “He's a nice guy.”
“He is,” you agreed. They didn't make men like Bucky anymore. “And I’m not going to tell you to stop hitting on my husband, but I highly suggest that you back off. At the very least, don’t throw yourself at him right in front of me. It’s sad.”
“Why?” She had the nerve to smirk. “Worried I’ll steal him away?”
You smirked, too. She had balls and you respected that, but this wasn’t a battle she’d win. “Steal him away? You make it sound like he’s a toy and he isn’t. He’s a man, my man,” you said, holding up your hand so she could get a good look at your wedding ring. “And you are not a threat in the slightest. Our bond is much stronger than that.”
Her smirk went away fast, replaced by something sad. You almost felt sorry for her until she said, “Jealousy isn't a good look on you. It’s kind of… ugly.”
You scoffed. If she wanted to play, you’d play. “Jealous of what? You hitting on a married man who doesn't want you?” you asked, not feeling guilty in the slightest when her face fell. “I’m not telling you to back off because I'm jealous. I told you that because you’re only going to embarrass yourself if you keep trying and you’re going to make my husband more uncomfortable than he already is. I don’t like people making my husband uncomfortable.”
An unspoken threat hung in the air long enough that she swallowed. “And how exactly did I make him uncomfortable?”
“Besides you hitting on him, you touched him without making sure it was okay to do so,” you answered, letting a bit of venom seep into your tone. Bucky went years without autonomy and consent was important to you. He suffered enough and didn’t need to deal with things like this. “I’d hope as an agent you’d be able to pick up on subtle body language cues enough to know that he didn’t want you touching him.”
“And how do you know he doesn’t want me touching him? Are you a mind reader or something?” she sneered, flicking a nonexistent piece of flint from her shirt. “If he really didn't want me touching him, he would've said so. And guess what? He didn't say a word.”
You saw red, your hands curling into fists. For her to ignore the nonverbal cues… “I know my husband. I know Bucky. He doesn’t want you touching him nor does he want to start anything with you because he’s extremely faithful. He won’t throw away a loving, trusting marriage for a quick fuck or doomed affair,” you stated. She bristled, but tried to recover. “If you make a pass at him, he’ll reject you. He’ll do it as respectfully as he can because he’s a good guy, but he will reject you. That’s a promise.”
“Because he loves you so much. Jesus, what makes you so special?” she spat, surprising you both. But the longer you looked at her, the more she deflated under your stare. “I mean… He doesn’t say much to me, but when he does it’s always about you. ‘My wife this’ and ‘my wife that’ and he’s always so… proud.” She shook her head. “Do you know how lucky you are?”
You did feel a little sorry for her now. Crushes hurt, but better that she hurt now and heal than to keep pushing and hurt more later. “I’m not special. We just love each other, that’s all. And, trust me, I’m aware that I’m very lucky to have him. Someone who gets me and will fight for and beside me,” you said, a loving smile touching your lips. You hoped Bucky was listening outside the door. “There’s a guy out there waiting for you, but that guy isn’t Bucky. So don’t lower yourself by trying to go after someone who’s taken.”
She side-eyed you, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “And what if I don’t stop?” she asked.
You giggled humorously, all sympathy gone. The agent actually looked nervous at that sound and you were glad because you weren't going to play nice. “Well, if you don't back off, Bucky could make a complaint about you harassing him or at least request that you’re transferred. Maybe fired since you’re still in your probationary period,” you began, looking at your wedding band when she began to protest. “At the very least, I could have your schedule rearranged so you can spar with me. You see, Bucky taught me a few moves and if a bone or two breaks, well…”
It wasn't an empty threat either. Bucky loved fighting for you, but you could hold your own. It turned him on.
Her eyes darted to the door when you stood up and stretched. “Listen, you don't need to-”
“But do you know what I'm going to do for now?” you asked, cutting her off the way she cut you off. “I'm going to take my husband to one of the interrogation rooms and suck the soul out of his body through his incredible cock,” you smiled sweetly, taking pleasure in the sputtering sound she made. “And after he recovers, he’ll have the choice of bending me over the table and either eating or fucking my pussy. He’ll probably choose both. He’s pretty insatiable.”
She got to her feet, too, and you half expected to see smoke come out of her ears. “I don't need to hear–”
“What? Does hearing that Bucky is going to fuck me and not you make you uncomfortable?” you asked innocently before you got close to her. “Shove your tits in my husband's face again or touch him without his explicit consent, and I won't just make you uncomfortable. I’ll make your life a living hell.”
While you lost the staring contest to Bucky earlier, you very much won against this agent. She stood perfectly still and averted her gaze as you pushed your chair in. “Is that a threat?” she mumbled.
A cliche question, so why not give a cliche answer? “It’s a promise,” you smiled, heading to the door. “Oh, if he does decide to spar with you, I expect you to apologize and behave yourself. I’ll hear about it if you don't.”
Bucky leaned against the wall, waiting for you as you exited the room. He looked over the moon. “We’re going to one of the interrogation rooms, huh?”
You giggled, taking his hand as your cheeks warmed. “Of course, that's what you took from that.”
“How could I not?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Thanks, baby. I thought I dropped enough hints that she’d back off.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” you assured him. He deserved to be comfortable at work. If some guy kept hitting on you, he would've stepped in, too.
“You think she’ll back off now?”
“I think so, but you tell me if she doesn't,” you said. You’d keep an eye on her, too, just in case. And if she pushed again, you’d put her back in her place. Maybe you’d make her listen while Bucky fucked you. With his permission, of course. “So, which room should we go to?”
He chuckled, the sound a happy one in the hall. “Room B. We can be as loud as we want,” he replied, tugging you closer. “I’ll show you just how special you are to me.”
Heat filled your body, anticipating how good it would feel to have him fuck your throat and more. “My body is ready, Sergeant,” you teased, shrieking when he picked you up and ignoring the whistles from other agents that walked by.
They were used to the shenanigans of Mr. and Mrs. Barnes by now.
And you couldn't wait for more.
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Just like we deserve a loving Bucky, he deserves love, too. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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kurooandkenmasslut · 4 months ago
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jjk dilfs x pregnant!reader
(reader is far into the pregnancy, much to jjk mens excitement yet worry.)
no minors! (I didn't feel like aging up yuuji and megumi and so on..) && no sukunaaa sorryyy
tojis is super short, I apologise!! if this gets enough attention I might make it longer but i wanted this out asap lmfao
⭒​SATORU GOJO↫​
when dream becomes reality
“But!-”
“no buts, sweets. just rest your cute lil buttocks on the couch.” gojo fought back. everytime you'd protest to do something, he'd always be there to retort. Especially since your due date was nearing.
you bit your lip, staring up at him. You felt kind of bad. He does everything for you, cleaning, shopping for you everyday, even learning a new skill which was cooking, just for you.
lying on his chest as you both watch your favourite tv show, his large hand caressing your belly bump.
“what do you think the baby'll be?” you ask, staring up at his face. Gojo stared at your face for a moment, not thinking, just admiring his wife.
“a boy.” he says, no hesitation.
“ehhh? why do you think that? I think it's a girl.”
“my dreams, sweets.” he smiles and you chuckle. At the near the start of your relationship, satoru had a dream of where you are now. Him being the strongest sorcerer, you his wife, with a baby boy. He had his absolutely gorgeous eyes and long lashes and most of his features, the cute baby taking your haircolor and your pretty smile. Oh if only younger gojo saw him now, he would of cried in happiness.
with a flushed face, he admitted it, completely out of his mind. drunk gojo smirked as he told described how beautiful it was, not knowing how embarrassed he was, but he didn't mind the part where his dream came true.
as embarrassing as it is for gojo to recall the memory, he still laughs with you, because if you find it funny, then he's content. maybe revealing another embarrassing secret, just to make you laugh, isn't that bad.
⭒​CHOSO KAMO↫​
First time daddy!
as soon as choso found out you were pregnant, he typed up on google what pregnant means, he was happy for the most part but.. worry and nervousment still lingered. He was actually surprised he could reproduce since he was a half curse. Negative thoughts was set on his mind. He felt as if his child would be scared of him. And if they were, which in his mind, they were likely to, he would curl up and bawl on the floor.
You gave told choso over and over again everyday, saying there's nothing to be worried about and that he'll be an amazing father, but he still felt like it, no matter the words you repeated. Not to mention, the people outside your relationship gossiped, especially about choso. On how he is a 'monster', a curse, not fit to parent with a human, that you deserve better. He would hear them on the streets, anywhere and everywhere. He did try not letting them get to him, but hearing it constantly everytime he went in public was very exhausting.
any time you tripped, or just an honest accident, choso felt like he was responsible for not taking care of you properly. Even though, it wasn't his fault.
So when that baby pushed through, God, he wanted to cry. Although the nurses rushed to clean him, he clenched your sweaty palm. Wiping away the stray hairs that stuck onto your sweaty forehead. You panted, leaning into his touch.
the nurses carried your baby gently and carefully, placing him into your arms. The nurses cooed before leaving you with choso.
Choso wasn't an emotional person, but big fat tears swam down his pale face, his hands covering his face. You lightly chuckled.
“do you want to hold him?” funny how that small, little sentence almost made him faint.
“b-but.. what if I drop him?” choso muttered, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. Nervous was an understatement. “nonsense! we practiced for this, remember? Here, my arms are tired, cho.” you say, yawning. Gently pushing the newborn into his hands, choso cradled his head in his hand, while his arm held his body.
You didn't get time to oogle, as your bufy shut down like a light.
The baby opened his eyes, big doe circles looking back at him. They both held eye contact before the baby started laughing, having his small little hand on chosos pale face. Choso was shocked to say the least. He didn't think his baby would giggle when he saw him, but he certainly isn't mad.
Waking up a while later, you rubbed your eyes with a yawn. That was a good sleep. Turning your head over to see where choso went, you stared at the cute sight.
Choso, in the seat next to your bed, was sitting there, sleeping. The baby was cradled in his arms with a strong grip, but not a uncomfortable grip. They both snored away, making you giggle a bit, reaching out to hold chosos hand and whispering,
“I love you two boys.”
⭒​SHIU KONG↫​
personal taxi..
Staring at the cars passing out the window, looking bored. You then started having a competition between two raindrops on the window.
Seeing that the specific raindrop that you were rooting for to win had lost, already soured your mood.
“im hungry, shiu. Can we go to the bakery? Pretty pleasee? I really, really want to get that new donut flavor they released!” you begged. Shiu, your very lovely husband who may or may not drive to the shop, sighed.
“babe, you just ate. We literally had a mcdonalds 10 minutes ago.”
“okay, but im carrying your baby. You do realise that there's another mouth to feed, and that im going to tear my body trying to give birth to your baby right?” you whined, batting your pretty lashes at him. No matter what, he always gives in. I mean, who could argue with that? That's the truth.
Smiling cheekily at him, you began to slightly kick your feet, excited he's complying. Works everytime.
looking at all the buildings that passes the vehicle, you can tell your almost near your destination.
feeling the baby kick, you accidentally let out a grunt. “that damn baby..” you mutter through furrowed brows. Shiu laughs, “no way you're already cursing out our baby.. not even out yet, doll. Im sure theyre just excited as you are going to this damn bakery.” you roll your eyes, not wanting to retort back to his remark. I mean, you don't blame your baby for being excited, because you love it too. as soon as they were born, you can bet that your taking them here every time possible.
seeing the building you were dying to see, a smile formed on your face. Hunger took over your body, jumping out of the car as soon as shiu parked and turned it off.
“aye, woman! Would you wait on me, jeez.. impatient women these days..” shiu called out, muttering the last part so you wouldn't hear. He knows he would get a red ear if you did. hurrying out as he also knows that you would huff if he dared to take 5 seconds longer and would've went without him. Not only that, but he didn't want you to trip over anything to hurt yourself.
shiu put his hands around your waist as you two walked. A cute little detail you adored.
The bell rang when you opened the door, the waitress greeting you when she walked passed. The aroma was hints of warm coffee and cinnamon. It felt really comforting, whixh is why your a usual customer.
Thankfully, there wasn't much of a line, but long enough for time to think about your order.
You were up next, so you two ordered.
Getting seated down the back right next to the window. You finished your pastry in about a minute while shiu was mid way into a bite, staring at you like you were crazy.
Both of you held eye contact before breaking it with a fit of laughs. You and Shiu couldn't wait for a third person giggling aswell, possibly a specific baby..
⭒​SUGURU GETO↫​
suguru's house rules
as soon as suguru found out that you, his wife, his one and only, got knocked up by him, he immediately made everything in the house baby proof. Even at the start at the pregnancy.
Raising two girls by himself wasn't easy, but now that he's experienced parenting, he knows all the tips and tricks.
“you will not be lifting a finger, unless you need to go to the restroom or something.. anyway, next if you need anything while I'm away, the girls will always be by your side if you need anything. If you need me at any time, I'm keeping my phone on me all day, just incase.” suguru says, with his cute little smile. You blink at him blankly, as if he doesn't tell you this everyday.
“sugu, you do realise I can do stuff by myself, right?” you say, tilting your head. You have this conversation everyday, yet you don't know why you bother because he never budges. You didn't want to treat your two angels, mimiko and nanako, like your servants while you sat there like royal.
“nonsense! I don't want my princess in there and my angel here moving around alot, don't want you to fall or anything, you know?” he mumbles. You glare up at him as he smiled sweetly at you. As if he didn't make a cheeky reference to the one to many times of when you got up when the two girls weren't looking, your poor knees gave out. And when suguru got that certain phone call, he seriously almost passed out in worry. After all of that, he still is wary of leaving the house most days, afraid something might happen again and he isn't there.
suguru sits back in satisfaction after just smothering you with kisses, something he usually does before he leaves for his cult. He hates dealing with them damn monkeys, but one of his many goals is to get as many curses as possible, so he'll take what he can get.
standing up, he calls put to the girls, who were currently making you lunch.
“mimi, nana! I'm leaving now, you coming to say bye?!” he yelled not to loud, not wanting to damage your hearing because of him. The two girls pounce on him, his arms full of his two angels.
“come home safe!” “hurry up coming home, there's a new cafe that opened and I wanna try it!” they squealed, suguru only chuckling in response, patting their head with his usual smile.
“take care of mommy over there, mkay?” suguru slightly bent down to their level, his voice low. They nodded enthusiastically, giving him one final hug before he went.
suguru closed the door, summoning his rainbow dragon. If he could marry you over and over, he would.
⭒​NANAMI KENTO↫​
worry 'bout yourself, baby!
wiping the slight dampness off your forehead, you finally made it to your destination. the nursery room. Putting your hands on your hip, you stared at the random peices of the unbuilt crib on the floor.
Peaking our the door and looking at your husbands closed office door, hearing him on the phone to his coworker. Perfect timing.
Recently, nanami has been working at home to watch over you a bit more, even though he has papers half the height of you to fill out. You didn't wanna bother him from his work again today, and plus, you wanted to be independent and brag about how you built this crib by yourself to your baby later. But, you knew nanami would get kind of mad that you lifted a finger, you didn't care.
If you sat down on the floor to even sort it out, you wouldnt get back up again and would need kentos help. And so, bending down to pick up the peices, you started to feel dizzy after a bit of back and forth of putting the pieces on the table.
'only a few peices left.' the thought trailed through your mind after each peice. Although, your baby thought otherwise, giving a nice brutal kick on the walls of your belly. A sudden yelp came, followed by a quick slap to the mouth as you have now blown your cover. Thr house was silent. Not hearing the mumble of kentos voice, now hearing the footsteps coming to the nursery. Mentally cursing our baby out, the door opened.
“honey? whats wrong? why are you- don't tell me you're trying to build the crib again?” kento said, scratching his blonde undercut. Smiling sheepishly with a slight nod.
“dear, I told you I would build it as soon as I get through the paperwork, didn't I?” kento says, shaking his head.
“but! you were in your office, already filled to the brim with workload and that damn paperwork. I didn't want to make it your new problem, you know? You're always taking care of me. And who told you that even a quarter of that shit was alright? I can have a word with them if you want.”
“my love, you will never be a problem to me, ever. What kind of husband would I be if I thought that? You're crazy.” Kento says, a small smile forming on his lips at thought of you worrying about him and his wellbeing. A rare sight indeed.
“and instead of worrying about me, worry about yourself, yeah? I'm sure your back is broke, my love. Please rest yourself, it's not good for the baby if you don't get rest, i told you this. Lets get you to the living room, yeah?” kento says into your neck, not giving you a choice.
Kento put his hands on your lower back, slowly massaging the spot you usually get sore. guiding you down the living room humming your favourite tune. almost in time for your reality show to be on, your luck.
Wasn't long until your eyes was stuck on the tv, drama brewing on the first few seconds.
Kento stands there, content. Not because of the tv show, no, its you. He wouldn't know where he would he standing, whether it would be on earth or the skies, without you.
⭒​TOJI FUSHIGURO↫​
short tempered woman and tired husband.
“woman, I am not going to feed you toothpaste.”
“well, why the hell not?!” you responded, rasing a brow. Toji grumbled, absolutely set on not giving you toothpaste for food.
“would you just sleep? I'm not giving you toothpaste to eat. Why the hell are you so weird?!”
“hhaaah?! What did you just say?!”
nights went on like that. Different item, same outcome. Toji with a red ear and your back to him. Toji doesn't know if your stable or not as you requested for a bowl of dirt to eat a few nights ago. He only knew about women's weird food craving a while ago when he saw you eating a chocolate bar with ketchup as a dip.
(toji finds it kinda hot when you get angry... kinky)
Toji put his head in his hands, covering his eyes. He let out a sigh before questioning you.
“are you eating toast and ice cream again?”
“yeah, so what? Any odds to you, old man..”
“oh, your so gonna regret that. We've been here before, and your belly bump is the result.” toji smirks, chuckling at your flushed face. And yet, his outcome is the same.
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inbabylontheywept · 29 days ago
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the fine and subtle art of arguing with old men
it was a good week for testing which meant it was a slow week for me. most of my job is fixing the machine when it goes down. if it doesn't go down, i don't have much to do. 
fortunately neither did marc. in a site full of ornery old bastards, he's the oldest and the orneriest, so it goes without saying that i enjoy spending time with him. he reminds me of my grandpa. hell, he reminds me of a lot of people. i've befriended enough grumpy old men that i've got a sort of momentum to it now - you know how it is, when you meet someone that reminds you of someone else you really like. you get to start that friendship off half built, because you already have an idea of how to like that guy, and some of that old warmth can be brought to the new friendship. a little ember to start the stove up with.
(i think that's one of the really undersold beauties of getting older. you stop viewing people as strangers and more like remixes of friends.)
anyway, i was sitting next to marc and we were talking about the future. i've got my eye on having kids sometime soon (year or two? hopefully?), and he's very happy for me. i've tried asking him for advice, but all he says is that he didn't do a great job with his own kids and they still turned out okay, so i should stress less and trust myself more. i hope he's right. he believes it, at least, and it's a hell of a thing to have the faith of an old man. his faith is hard won.
as for his plans, he's retiring at some point in the next six months, and is hoping to sell his home and buy something in florida. he's republican, so he views the state as paradise, and i'm not inclined to even try talking him out of it. it's his dream, you know? i know for a fact my paradise would be a lot of people's hell. life's funny like that.
still, we kept going on, and it was a good time, and then he reminisced about the last time he got close to quitting - back around 2020. our job required getting vaxxed, and he refused, and there was a big kerfuffle about it before the job actually backed down. i know there's not a lot of sympathy for the unvaxxed out here, but the man's 62. you get the shot when you're under 30 to protect the people around you, but when you're over 60, you're just getting it to protect yourself and it's hard to be mad at someone for kicking their own ass. 
still gave me pause though. i knew he wasn't going to take it well, but half the job of collecting curmudgeons is keeping them around, so i said 
hey. i'm sorry they bent your arm over it, but.
but. 
you should really get that shot. 
and he looked over at me, and i looked at him, and he actually spat. not on me, just the concrete, but it was enough to show that he was mad. then he walked away, as abrupt as anything.
i felt bad about it. i wasn't sure what i'd expected, when he was willing to lose his job over it before, but i'd been so invested in his dream of retirement - the idea of him sipping margaritias on a beach next to his wife, the wife he calls every day during lunch, the wife he says is the one thing in life he ever got right on the first try. the wife that almost divorced him back when he was in the airforce because he just wasn't home enough. 
(but he can be home now.) 
and then he mentioned the vax thing, and it was like seeing a pin hit a balloon. he works out every day and takes all sorts of crazy vitamins and is generally committed to getting the most out of his pension and his life. i didn't want this dumb weak point to be his achilles heel. 
---
i wasn't actually sure how long marc would be mad at me. i've seen him stay mad at some people for weeks. i wasn't sure if being friends would make that time go up or down. 
it went down. i'm glad it went down. 
he stopped being mad about two days later. we were doing front end maintenance one morning, and it was just that simple mechanical rhythm - hex key, replace the anode sheets, punch some off-gassing holes, oil it up, put it back in - that put things at ease. it always does. people working there are too busy to remember grudges, and it has this sort of mandatory practical communication that helps smooth things over. it was going great, and then out of the blue he said babs, you gotta be careful giving advice. those shots come with complications. what would you do if i got that shot, had a stroke, and died? 
and i don't know what answer he was expecting, but i just told him the truth, which is that i would be devastated. i'd feel like i killed him. i thought that was a pretty normal response, but he looked taken aback. he asked why i said it then, and i said i'd have felt the same if he died of covid. that's just life. sometimes, there's no way forward that doesn't risk some kind of regret. 
we finished the tube after that, in a silence that felt heavier than peace but lighter than anger. it felt like the ball was back in marc's court. like it would be rude to take that turn from him. 
we parted ways with a nod and didn't speak until the next day. 
---
i was doing spreadsheet work when he found me again. standard paper engineering - thinking of things we might need and ordering them in batches, months ahead of time. it always feels a little like plugging holes in a dam with my fingers. 
but he popped up, and we didn't even exchange pleasantries. he just said i'm gonna die one day, and you can't blame yourself for that. 
which is a hell of a thing to just tell someone right off the bat. 
so i said what 
and he said babs, i am in my 60s. something is gonna get me eventually, and whether it's covid or heart disease, or a stroke, there will be something you could have said or done before. and that's okay. it's not your job to make me live forever. 
and you know, he actually made a lot of sense. so i said 
okay. 
i'll keep your business yours. i just
you were talking about your retirement before this. and i want that for you very much. you've worked hard for 45 years, and you deserve a break. we're getting to sick season, and it would be the saddest fucking thing in the world if you got this close to winning the race then tripped in the last ten feet. 
and we sat there a few moments longer. i wasn't sure what to say, and i wasn't sure what he'd say, but eventually he just shrugged and said
yeah 
then he left. i figured that would be the end of it. 
---
i did front end maintenance yesterday, after being gone a week. it's one of my favorite things to do. i like working with my hands. i really like working with my hands. i'm glad i went to college, but in a different life, i think i could've made a better electrician than an electrical engineer. 
and at one step, when we were both hoisting the plate back onto the machine, his sleeve rode up, and i saw two bandaids on his arm. 
we finished the install, and i was ready to go back when marc actually stopped me. 
i got the shot, he said, almost embarrassed. like he'd been caught. and i knew he was gonna say something dumb about it, so i just cut him off by giving him a hug. 
i was relieved. hugging old men is kind of like picking up cats. if they like you a lot, they'll tolerate it, but that's about it. we sat there maybe three beats before his hands went up, and then he gave me one overly-hard thump on the back. in my experience, this is how old men tell you that they're done, so i let him go.
carla talked me into it, he said, almost defensive. his wife. his one good decision.
tell her i said thanks, i said back.
trump got the shot too, he said, less defensive, but oddly pleading. like he was consoling himself.
like he was nervous.
then it's gotta be safe, i said, and he looked up at me, strangely searching, strangely vulnerable. i don't know exactly what he was looking for, but i guess he found it because after a few moments his shoulders relaxed.
yeah, he said, one hand on the back of his head.
it's gotta be.
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jimxnslight · 7 months ago
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Fool's Gold || Part I
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Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.
Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader
Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au
Word Count: 10k
Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. violence, blood, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses
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“I heard that she’s a complete airhead.”
Jungkook’s expensive shoes smacked against the pristine white and gold marble floors as he continued to walk through the lavish hallway, hands disappearing behind his pockets while his steps were slow and confident. Most would think he was choosing to ignore the comment, but his closest friend knew better than to rush a man as calculating as Jungkook. 
Instead, Taehyung strolled alongside him, taking in the glittering chandeliers looming over their heads and the intricate designs carved into the white walls that were much too traditional for his taste. Jungkook and Taehyung were nowhere near out of place in the sea of extravagance with their custom suits and shiny black dress shoes. Taehyung, the more simple of the two, had his brown hair parted and pushed back to reveal a blemish free forehead while his grey and black suit complimented the grey specks in his brown irises. 
On the other hand, Jungkook’s black on black outfit adorned two expensive cufflinks and a gold brooch attached to his lapel. Taehyung’s gaze dropped to his black hair, which he noticed had grown in the past month. 
When Taehyung realised that Jungkook wasn’t going to speak, he decided to fill the silence. 
“Like apparently she’s huge on wearing pink and frilly stuff -which I guess is just a girl thing- but still, this is a mafia not a tea party.”
He paused, waiting for his comrade to offer his thoughts, but was met with silence once again. 
“I’ve also heard she’s dumber than a pile of rocks. Barely passed high school and then dropped out of university not even a month in. Her major wasn’t even that hard. Commerce, was it?”
Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed as Jungkook continued to lengthen the silence. 
“And as you already must know, she was also married about a year ago but then was widowed after her husband was killed by a rival gang on the same day. Even though their marriage didn’t even last a full 24 hours, she had been so traumatised by the whole thing that apparently she didn’t even speak for an entire month after the ordeal. Can you imagine how much of a princess she must be for a simple death to shake her that much? She must be a real- come on man, how long are you going to make me go on?”
Jungkook turned his head to offer him a sly grin, “I was wondering when you would reach your limit.”
Taehyung gave him a halfhearted punch to the arm, “you’re such a jerk. Answer my question man. I’m dying to know what she’s actually like.”
He followed Jungkook as he turned into another hallway, curious as to what he thought of her, but his answer had him staring at Jungkook incredulously. 
“I don’t know.”
Taehyung faltered in his step, gaping at the back of the man who continued through the hallway nonchalantly. When the weight of his answer finally processed completely in Taehyung’s mind, he ran forward so that he could walk alongside his friend once again. 
“I think you misunderstood my question,” Taehyung tried again slowly, “I want to know about Lee Y/N, you know, your soon to be wife? The one you’re about to marry right now?”
“What is there to know?” Jungkook commented, mind occupied with a topic of much more importance, “a marriage with her will allow for the unification of two powerful mafia families and will also allow for an heir to be born. Is that not the whole point of marriages for individuals like us?”
“Well yeah, but there’s no harm in getting to know her at least a little bit. Did you even hear about the ‘dumb as rocks’ part when I was rambling?”
“That will only make her easier to control,” he deadpanned.
“Fine, whatever. Is she at least pretty?”
Taehyung’s eyes widened even more when Jungkook didn’t respond, “please tell me you’ve met her at least once. Oh my god, have you even looked at a picture of her?” 
Jungkook's silence was all Taehyung needed to know that the answer was, in fact, no,” I knew I shouldn’t have gone out of the country! My parents kept telling me everything would be fine and they’d take care of the whole thing but you haven’t even met her once? I should’ve made my return flight earlier, then I could’ve-”
Taehyung’s voice faltered as he noticed Jungkook’s distant expression, causing his brows to furrow. He wasn’t listening to a word he was saying, which wasn’t something entirely out of the ordinary, but it usually wasn’t this bad. He sighed as he shifted his gaze to the expensive hall before him. 
“Is this about the Parks?” He asked, noticing his friend’s focus return.
“It’s the Parks and the Mins,” Jungkook admitted, “ever since their alliance, they’ve been getting bold. They made a move on our West docks last week and would have been successful in seizing them if it weren’t for the blackmail I managed to procure at the last minute. But that won’t hold them off for long.”
Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, “you’ve always enjoyed a challenge. Why’s this bothering you so much?”
Jungkook turned into another hallway to finally come face to face with a large pair of grandiose double doors that towered over them. The two men came to a stop, aware that their conversation was now on a timer. 
“I just… have an uneasy feeling,” he said, unable to reveal anymore to Taehyung. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his best friend what he had really witnessed when he visited the docks yesterday.
Taehyung, clueless to Jungkook’s inner turmoil, slapped him on the back, lightening the mood with a grin, “come on man, this is your wedding. You’ll figure everything out later, for now just relax. You deserve it.”
Before he could protest, Taehyung shoved the double doors open to reveal an enormous and crowded wedding hall. The white and gold marble floor stretched across the entire room, while multiple diamonds came together to form a giant chandelier that hung over the hundreds of tables that had been decorated with shiny silverware and pristine white roses. The people were just as decorated as the furniture, with their elegant gowns and glamorous jewellery. 
At the sound of the doors opening, the once chattering crowd silenced, opting to sneak glances at Jungkook and his friend instead. Hushed whispers echoed around the hall as Jungkook straightened his back and held his head high before making his way to the centre of the room. Behind him, Taehyung took his place, his outgoing and extroverted personality tucked away to look just as regal and intimidating as the groom. The crowd began gathering on either side of the aisle, clearly excited for the bride who had been scheduled to appear any second now. 
Most men’s hearts would be racing during a time like this, Jungkook thought distantly, eyes focused on the aisle as well. Marriage to others was supposed to symbolise unwavering love and devotion. But not for him. For him marriage was simply a contract, a means to an end that he hoped would lessen the burden of a number of challenges. In a world like this, there was no such thing as love. 
Only power. 
The sound of the double doors opening pulled him from his thoughts, with two professionally dressed workers fixing them on either side so that they remained open this time. Jungkook watched a pair of women in what seemed like light pink bridesmaid dresses trail behind two girls who couldn’t have been more than five throwing white and light pink flower petals in the air. Behind the entourage was a figure drenched in white. 
You walked slowly into the room, your glimmering white dress trailing behind you as a thick white veil draped over your face and the front of your dress. Jungkook could only make out your hands clutching a small bouquet of white roses while your arm looped around your father’s, who was slowly guiding you down the aisle. Despite the aid, he couldn’t help but notice an uneasiness to your steps and a slight shake in your hands. 
The crowd’s gaze stayed fixed on your figure, drinking in the Jeon Jungkook’s soon to be wife. There were some gasps of astonishment at the beauty of your dress and figure, while there were some gasps of jealousy towards the woman who was taking Jungkook off the market. You didn’t seem to pay them any attention as your head stayed fixed in front of you, focusing on not falling as you continued through the aisle. 
To Jungkook, it felt like years had passed before you finally reached the small steps leading to the stage he was standing on, your bridesmaids taking their places on the opposite side of where Taehyung was standing. Your father unlooped his arm from yours and stepped back to sit on one of the seats that had been reserved for him, leaving you to hesitantly step onto the stage yourself. Your heel wobbled as you brought your foot forward and Jungkook knew exactly what would happen before it did. 
He watched your heel slip sideways, causing you to careen to your right under the heaviness of your dress. But before you could crash into the large pots of white roses, Jungkook shot forward so that his hand could grab your waist, hoisting you up to prevent you from falling. The crowd swooned at the gesture, murmuring about its romantic nature, though all Jungkook could wonder was how you’ve been surviving in a mafia family for so long. Taehyung had only said you were dumb, not a complete klutz too. 
He could feel the warmth of your delicate hand on his shoulder as he guided you up the steps, only letting go of you once the two of you were facing the patiently waiting priest. Once he had motioned for everyone to sit, he began his sermon in an obnoxiously boring voice. Jungkook had no particular interest in paying attention to a speech he had listened to multiple times growing up. Instead, he took the chance to survey you briefly. With your veil still hiding your face, he could only take in your perfect figure and pristine skin. 
Eventually, the priest asked you to remove your veil, to which you complied slowly. Taehyung came forward, offering to take the bouquet in your hands while your bridesmaids helped you hesitantly lift the soft white cloth over your head. 
A wave of hushed whispers spread throughout the crowd at the sight of your face, one that caught Jungkook off guard. Your eyes had been lined with a light liner, while your lips and cheeks had been made to look dainty. Your hair fell from the top of your head to your shoulders, styled in a way that framed your features and neck. Jungkook noticed a small silver necklace in the shape of a heart resting against your exposed collarbone. 
Your makeup made you look so innocent and… young. Jungkook almost wanted to pull Taehyung’s parents aside and confirm that you really were twenty three and not some nineteen year old. It was a bit of a turn off, he realised, slightly bothered by the fact. As a twenty six year old, he obviously wasn’t into teenagers, so he didn’t know what having a wife that looked like one was going to do for him. 
Then again, he wasn’t marrying you for some kind of gratification. He was marrying you because he needed to form a strong alliance between your father’s gang and his so that he could be, or at the very least appear, stronger than the Mins and Parks. You were nothing more than a path to more power and, aside from upholding his responsibilities as a husband, he would treat you as such.
As the priest continued to drone on, Jungkook continued to analyse your form. He watched your eyes stay focused on the priest before they strayed, hesitantly landing on Jungkook for a split second. When you noticed his gaze already on you, a small squeak sounded from your lips before you quickly shifted your focus forward. With the bouquet of flowers now hanging from Taehyung’s hand, your own fingers were clasped awkwardly in front of you. 
You were apparently everything Taehyung had painted you as earlier, Jungkook thought. Your makeup and mannerisms had an air of exaggerated innocence, while your body language was shy and sheepish. He had no problem imagining you as a weak girl that was so traumatised by the death of your first husband that you couldn’t utter a single word the following month. 
The priest turned to the seated crowd, beckoning anyone that had an issue with the marriage to step forward and speak their mind. Just as Jungkook expected, no one dared make a stand, preferring to cherish the connection between their head and neck instead. Following the silence, you and Jungkook were made to stand facing each other.
Your gaze was fixed on his collar, seemingly too shy to meet Jungkook’s eyes. It only confirmed his suspicions regarding your confidence, or lack thereof. 
Yet, despite your evidently timid nature and lack of intelligence, Jungkook couldn’t help but experience an uncanny feeling lingering at the back of his mind. Perhaps it was his untrusting nature, or maybe he had just been forced to over analyse you during the long and boring sermon. But he could have sworn that there was something about you. Just… something about the way you had trouble meeting his gaze yet seemed to have no problem in scanning Taehyung up and down. For a fraction of a moment, the look in your eyes was almost calculated, as if you had been assessing him. But just as fast as Jungkook thought he saw it, the look disappeared, replaced by a timid and shy gaze once again. It left him questioning whether he had even seen it in the first place, or whether he was letting paranoia see things that weren’t there. 
Finally, the priest turned to the two of you and made you both say your vows outloud. They were the standard vows, Jungkook and you putting no effort in creating a confession that you both knew was ingenuine. Instead, the two of you repeated after him, answering “I do” when the time was right. Jungkook was glad that, despite your seemingly ditzy nature, you hadn’t requested any giant romantic gestures. According to your father, you had even had no problem with Jungkook requesting that there be no kiss at the altar. It made his life a lot easier and truthfully made this entire situation a lot less awkward.
To Jungkook’s relief, the priest finally addressed the crowd once more, ending the sermon on a final note filled with hope and prosperity. He spoke about how the marriage would strengthen the two mafias, mitigating worries relating to attacks from enemies that may wish to harm them. Jungkook had already expected this part of the speech, as he had been the one to tell the priest to say those exact words. 
At the end of the sermon, Jungkook and you were made to walk down the aisle back to where he knew his expensive car was waiting. He turned to you, looping his arm around yours so that you wouldn’t fall again, and guided you down the steps slowly. He noticed that your every step was still wobbly and he could feel your hand shaking as you placed it on his bicep to steady yourself further. But this time, with the veil now draped behind you, he could see the distress in your face as well. Your eyes were wide as you took in the crowd surrounding you, looking as naive as Taehyung had made you out to be. 
Jungkook tried to remind himself of Taehyung’s words. About how you had barely been able to pass high school and then completely dropped out of university a month in. About how your style consisted of pink and frilly clothes that didn’t have much place in the mafia. About how, at this moment, you seemed almost scared of the crowd and attention. 
A girl like that was shy and naive and ditzy. Aside from being slightly irritating, that meant you couldn’t be much of a threat to him or anyone else. If anything your incompetence would be a threat to your own self. Jungkook had nothing to worry about when it came to you. 
So he tried not to be unsettled. 
He tried not to be unsettled by the fact that, despite your apparently innocent and weak nature, your fingers were gripping into his bicep so hard he would no doubt wake up with a bruise tomorrow morning. 
He tried not to be unsettled by the way your shy gaze, which stayed fixed on the floor, would sometimes stray upwards to almost study the crowd around you before quickly darting back to the ground. 
He tried not to be unsettled when you looked up at him to give him a bashful smile, one that the logical part of him agreed looked sweet and innocent enough.
Yet, why did another part of him wonder whether there had been something else lurking behind those seemingly innocent eyes?
-
-
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The only thing that Jungkook had learned about you from the car ride was that your voice was as light and soft as your appearance. 
The ride in his black car decorated with gleaming small white roses and ribbons had been mostly silent, the two of you making no effort to start a conversation. Jungkook had never been one for small talk, more than content to let Taehyung talk for hours instead. The reason for your lack of conversation, though, was unknown to him. 
It was only when he was speeding through the highway that you had spoken to request that he slow down a bit. Your voice had been soft and timid, as if you were scared that Jungkook would lash out at you for the simple request. Or maybe that was just the way you spoke. Considering your personality, Jungkook wouldn’t find that too hard to believe.
Now the two of you walked through the entrance of his home, your eyes taking in the grandeur of it all. Despite its vastness, Jungkook felt that this was where he felt the most comfortable: between the white and fawn walls, the elaborately designed bannisters, and the creme marble floors. His home had remained the only constant in his life and, because of that, he cherished it immensely. 
There were only a few people that Jungkook had allowed inside, all of whom were people that he trusted with his life. This was the first time, he realised, that someone outside of those few was stepping foot onto the marble floor and laying their eyes on the spiralling staircase. It was an odd feeling, allowing you to enter into what he felt was the only place that truly allowed his mind and body to relax. 
He observed your reaction curiously, taking in your wide eyes. They bounced from one thing to the next, each structure seeming to fascinate you more and more. He still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were assessing the space, but the logical part of him kept trying to reassure himself that you couldn’t possibly be considered any kind of threat. 
The sound of the door opening behind him pulled him from his thoughts. He turned around to find Taehyung walking through the doorway, a particular look on his face. Jungkook recognised it right away, causing him to turn to you for a moment while calling over one of the maids. 
“Get her to the bedroom,” Jungkook commanded the maid as Taehyung stepped beside him, “and help her take off her makeup and dress into something comfortable.”
The maid nodded before she began to guide you up the flight of stairs, pointing out a few directions here and there to get you comfortable with the new environment. Jungkook watched you look back at him and Taehyung for a split second, an unreadable look in your eyes, before you faced forward once again and allowed yourself to be dragged away wordlessly. 
Once you had disappeared up the stairs, Jungkook turned to Taehyung with a raised eyebrow.
“Well?” He prodded. 
Taehyung glanced at the top of the stairs to make sure you really were gone, “I should be asking you that. What do you think of her?”
Jungkook mulled over his question for a moment, “she seems to be everything you said she is. Although, are you sure-”
“She is one hundred percent twenty three years old. I triple checked that one,” Taehyung said immediately, hands up in a gesture of surrender. 
Jungkook let his hands nestle into his pockets, wondering if he should bring up his other concerns as well. Uptil now, you haven’t actually done or said anything worth garnering suspicion. Jungkook just seemed to be picking up on small things here and there, but he wasn’t sure if those things were just him being paranoid or genuinely things that he should be cautious over. This whole marriage thing was proving to be a lot more confusing than he had initially thought. 
“What is it?” Taehyung asked, noticing his friend’s silence. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, but, after earning a questioning look from Taehyung, he relented slightly. 
“How well of a background check did your parents do on her?” Jungkook asked cautiously. He didn’t want Taehyung to know too much of how he was feeling at the moment, in case this was just his mind being overactive, but something in Taehyung’s expression seemed to indicate that he knew a lot more than what Jungkook was letting on. 
“They did a very thorough one, of course,” Taehyung said, eyeing Jungkook knowingly, “you know my parents. If there’s one thing that they’re the best at, it’s uncovering people’s secrets.”
Then he added with a smile, “couldn’t get away with much while growing up because of it.”
Jungkook let his gaze wander around the room, “I just…”
“You’re just suspicious of her,” Taehyung finished, causing Jungkook to look his way, “of course you’re suspicious Jungkook, you’re letting a girl that you’ve never even met before into your house for the first time. It’s a natural reaction, especially considering how untrusting we’ve been conditioned to be since we were young.”
Taehyung clapped Jungkook on the back reassuringly, “I was the exact same way when I married Chaewon. Hell, in our first year of being married I even accused her of being a traitor when she was planning a surprise party for my birthday. When she finally told me… man, it took me a whole year to make it up to her. On another note, from a married man to a newly married man, don’t accuse your wife of anything unless you’re a hundred and ten percent sure of it. Otherwise you’ll never hear the end of it.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, causing Taehyung to laugh.
“Besides, have you seen Y/N? She’s so shy and naive, her own reflection in the mirror must frighten her. I doubt you have anything to worry about, especially after my parents’ background check. Just enjoy yourself, man, it’s your wedding night,” Taehyung said with a knowing smirk. 
Obviously ignoring the suggestive comment, Jungkook nodded, finding logic in Taehyung’s other words. Jungkook had never been married, all of this was new to him. But if Taehyung, who had been married for almost a decade, said feelings like this were normal, then maybe he really was just being overly paranoid about the situation. You’d had a thorough background check done, which revealed nothing, and your personality was quite clear to Jungkook after he’d observed you at the wedding. 
It was time Jungkook started trying to enjoy this marriage as much as he could. He was going to be stuck with you indefinitely, and constantly being suspicious of you was only going to wear him out, especially since you now had access to the only place he allowed himself to be free of the constantly vigilant and calculating mind that came with being the leader of the Jeons. 
Jungkook turned to Taehyung, about to thank him for the insight, but the sound of the door opening once again caused the two to shift their gaze to behind them. The sight of the man walking through the doorway immediately had Jungkook wrinkling his nose in distaste while Taehyung’s expression had become a distant neutral. The man didn’t seem to mind the reactions if he noticed them, casually strolling deeper into the house until he was standing before the two. 
“Jungkook, Taehyung,” Daehyun nodded, the respectful gesture somehow seeming more disrespectful if anything. He had clearly just come back from the wedding, still wearing his black suit and light brown hair styled back, “you just got married, yet I see only Taehyung and no bride. Shall I assume the two of you are running away together?”
The tasteless joke was followed by a deep laugh, one that belonged to neither Jungkook nor Taehyung. Instead they just stared at him with an unamused scowl.
“Relax, it’s only a joke,” he shook his head, gaze wandering the place casually, “I doubt your wife and kid would like the thought of that anyway.”
Taehyung’s jaw ticked at Daehyun’s words. Even if he hadn’t directly threatened or disrespected them in any way, just the mention of his family from his mouth was enough for Taehyung’s gaze to turn icy.
“Careful Daehyun, you’re standing before two mafia leaders,” Taehyung said, voice low and intimidating, “I would be less casual in our presence if I were you.”
To Taehyung and Jungkook’s dismay, Daehyun simply chuckled, “ah yes, but Jungkook and I are cousins. He’ll cut me some slack, won’t he?”
Jungkook didn’t answer, even after Daehyun gave his arm a lighthearted punch. Daehyun was the cousin that Jungkook could never be rid of, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was slimy and tactless and everything Jungkook hated rolled into one unbearable being. Having to give him access to his home, his only place of peace, had been one of the hardest things to do. But at the time, Jungkook had had to make sacrifices and this had been one of them. 
Daehyun, undeterred by his cousin’s lack of response, leaned his arm on Jungkook’s shoulder casually, “congratulations by the way. When I saw your wife’s face- god did she look young! You’re so lucky man, I hope my future wife turns out like that.”
Jungkook grimaced as he suddenly felt the desire to wipe off any remnants of Daehyun’s touch from his suit. Daehyun had attended the same university as Taehyung and Jungkook, yet he had evidently obtained none of the class that they had. Everyday he wondered how the two of them could possibly be related. For the sake of Jungkook’s mental wellbeing, sometimes he liked to imagine Daehyun had actually been adopted and his parents had simply decided not to share that piece of information. 
“I should get going,” Jungkook said stiffly, brushing his cousin’s arm off his shoulder. He fixed his suit as Daehyung smirked at him, likely thinking of Jungkook’s comment as more suggestive than he had actually meant. 
Jungkook faced Taehyung to give him a curt nod before he turned and began walking up the stairs, not bothering to use the fawn iron bannisters on either side of him. He could hear Taehyung taking his leave through the front door, dragging a complaining Daehyun behind him to Jungkook’s satisfaction. The sound of the front door shutting had never sounded so delightful. 
A silence ensued as Jungkook walked through the hallway upstairs, continuing until he paused in front of his bedroom’s door. He couldn’t hear any noises coming from inside the room, so, with a light knock against the white and fawn wood, his hand wrapped around the handle to turn it and finally push the door open. 
The windows displayed an almost set sun, coating the atmosphere in a blanket of dimness. Everything about his bedroom had been changed. His once dark brown and white bed had been switched out for a cream and fawn coloured one, with a bouquet of vibrant red roses sitting atop the fancy and plush duvet, while his black leather couches had been replaced by light cloth ones. The ceiling and walls had been painted white, complimenting the new white and fawn patterned marble floor. His old dresser had also disappeared, a cream coloured dresser twice its size sitting in its place instead. 
Aside from the drastic changes that had been made to his bedroom, no doubt to signify the change that came with marriage, the first thing Jungkook noticed was the maid who was drawing the curtains closed. The room would have fallen into complete darkness if it weren’t for the lamps sitting atop the bedside tables which were emanating a warm light around the space. 
The second thing he noticed was you, who was sitting timidly on the edge of the bed and facing him. Your fingers were playing awkwardly in front of you while your gaze had been fixed on the floor, but at the sound of the door opening, your head raised to look at Jungkook. The sight of your face once again caught him off guard, the lack of makeup revealing a different side of you. 
You no longer looked young. Without the innocent look that had been created with the blushes and the eyeliners and the lip glosses, Jungkook could see the mature shape of your eyes and the defined look of your features. You looked your age now, a lot more maturity prominent in your appearance. 
You were pretty. Jungkook could admit that much now that you didn’t resemble a teenager. He wondered why you had done your makeup like that in the first place. He’d been to many weddings before and none of the brides had been made to look so young. Then again, Taehyung had already told him that, on top of looking innocent and naive, you seemed to dress the part as well. 
“Is something wrong?” Your soft voice asked, eyes blinking innocently up at him. 
Jungkook shook his head, motioning for the maid to leave the room. She gave you both a low bow before scurrying out the doorway, making sure to close the door behind her. 
“No,” he finally answered. For the first time in a long time he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He wasn’t sure if you were expecting anything to happen tonight, or if you even wanted anything to happen for now. 
His gaze lowered as he mulled over his next actions. You had changed out of your wedding dress into a light pink, mesh lace nightgown that came all the way down to your knees with a silk bow stitched into the centre of your chest, as if your clothes were meant to compensate for the lack of makeup dolling up your features. He almost wanted to raise an eyebrow at you, but you seemed much too fragile to be ridiculed. 
Alternatively, he decided to take an experimental step in your direction, surveying your reaction closely. He watched your fingers close tighter around the duvet on which you sat, your gaze hesitantly darting everywhere but him. That was answer enough for him to know how far you were ready to take it tonight. So instead, he passed the bed, opting instead to drop onto the couch on the far end of the room. While he was facing you, you had to turn your head to keep him in your sights. 
“What would you like to do now?” He asked you, resting an arm over the back of the couch while he crossed an ankle over his knee. 
Your gaze dropped to your lap, watching your fingers fidget against each other nervously. It was almost as if having to answer a question like that had you stressed, which again made Jungkook wonder how you had survived growing up in a mafia family. How could you have been this weak?
“I-I don’t know,” you squeaked, not able to meet his gaze. 
Jungkook sighed, turning his head to the side to survey the room. Technically, the two of you could just call it a night and go to sleep. You were clearly too shy to even speak a word to him, and Jungkook had never been one to beg others for things. Only time would tell how well the two of you would get to know each other. 
But then Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the coffee table in front of him, noticing some sort of gift basket placed in its centre. It was obviously a wedding gift, filled with chocolates, scented candles, roses… and some wine and champagne. Jungkook has always been more of a whiskey guy, but right now he’d take just about anything. 
“Why don’t we have a drink?” He suggested, uncrossing his leg so that he could lean forward and grab the top of the expensive-looking bottle of red wine. He prayed you weren’t one of those people that didn’t drink, your innocent personality couldn’t possibly extend all the way to drinking as well. 
You paused for a moment, taking in the bottle in Jungkook’s hand, before slowly nodding your head, to Jungkook’s relief. 
He beckoned you over with his free hand, “come here.”
You hesitated before slowly pushing yourself off the bed and took small steps towards him. Jungkook waited patiently until you were standing right in front of the couch, hands clasped shyly in front of you while your gaze stayed glued to the floor. He held up the bottle of wine and champagne in front of you, hoping you weren’t so dumb that you wouldn’t understand the question in his actions. Thankfully you studied the two bottles before a shaky hand raised and tapped against the bottle of champagne. 
He pushed the bottle in your direction, forcing you to take it in your own hands, before standing up from the couch. The unexpected action seemed to scare you, causing you to immediately take a timid step backwards while you hugged the bottle to your chest. Jungkook had to suppress a tired, and maybe even slightly annoyed sigh, as he manoeuvred past you. He was trying to be patient, but this was becoming ridiculous. 
“You get that open while I wash up,” he said to you, pointing at the bottle still pressed to your chest, “okay?”
You nodded slowly, allowing him to turn away from you and walk into the joint bathroom. Once the door was closed behind him he let out the sigh he had suppressed earlier. You really were… something. He couldn’t believe he had been suspicious of you earlier when you could barely even function properly, much less be any sort of threat. It was irritating, Jungkook felt, to have someone so incompetent for a wife. He wondered if he would have to break you out of that shell. You were the wife of a mafia leader now after all, you had to keep up at least some air of confidence in the presence of others so that you didn’t make him look weak. 
Jungkook walked over to the sink and turned it on, splashing some cold water on his face before he began brushing his teeth. You were far from his ideal type, and he doubted this marriage would ever stem into whatever Taehyung and Chaewon had going on. Hell, he was wondering how the two of you could ever even produce an heir. You’d probably spontaneously combust if he even tried to touch you. And besides, he didn’t really want to touch you if he was being honest. You reminded him too much of a weak and helpless child, which was obviously a huge turn off. He may have been a mafia leader, but he wasn’t a complete monster. 
Jungkook placed his toothbrush into the holder after spitting into the sink, drying himself off with one of the towels hanging near him. He was about to start changing into more comfortable clothes, only getting as far as unbuttoning the first few buttons of his black collar shirt, before a crashing sound rang from the bedroom. In less than a second he had pushed out of the bathroom, immediately scanning the bedroom before him as his hand automatically sought out the gun at his side. 
It took him a moment to realise the lack of intruders in the room, and then another to take in your completely unharmed form. You were standing with your hands covering your mouth, looking down at the ground. Jungkook followed your gaze to find the champagne bottle rolling along the marble floor, still entirely intact. You had clearly dropped the thing accidentally, causing Jungkook to place his gun back in his waistband.
“I’m s-so sorry,” you squeaked, bending down quickly to pick up the bottle. Suppressing a huff, Jungkook walked over to you to take it from your hands. 
“Here, let me do it,” he said, taking two of the crystal champagne flutes from the gift basket and placing them on the glass coffee table as he sat himself down on the couch, distantly annoyed at the fact that you couldn’t even pour a glass of champagne by yourself. Was this seriously what he was going to have to deal with from now on?
He tipped the bottle, filling both glasses to the brim with the bubbling liquid as you hesitantly sat yourself down on the couch to his left. His gaze fell on you as he was about to offer you one of the flutes, but paused when he noticed the look on your face. For the first time since he met you, you looked almost… excited. Usually your eyes would be downturned and focused on the floor, but this time they were fixed on the crystal glasses before you as if you were eager to taste the expensive liquid. Jungkook made a note of it, tucking it into the back of his mind for later. 
“Take one,” he said as he motioned towards one of the glasses, but to his surprise you hesitantly shook your head. Your expression had turned timid once again, any hint of excitement from earlier entirely gone. He narrowed his eyes at you as he wondered if he had just imagined it. It had barely been there anyway. 
“I don’t drink,” you said in your signature soft tone, not able to meet his gaze. Of course you don’t, Jungkook thought irritatedly, god forbid the princess touch a glass of champagne. He knew the thought was immature, but there was no way he was the most immature person in the room at the moment. 
He pushed himself off the couch, very much aware that his patience was starting to wear thin, “well then I guess we should call it a night.”
But before he could step towards the bed, your hand shot out, clutching the edge of his sleeve with your fingers. He immediately looked down at your still seated form, a question in his eyes. You had to look away for a moment, seemingly collecting your nerves, before you met his gaze once again. 
“Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean you can’t,” you said, “I don’t want you not to enjoy yourself because of me. Please stay.”
Jungkook noticed the evident guilt in your eyes as your fingers continued to stay enclosed around the edge of his sleeve. When he didn’t move, you hesitantly leaned forward to gently pick up one of the glasses and then slowly presented it to him. His gaze shifted to the glass in your hand, pausing for only a moment, before he took it from you. He let himself sink back onto the couch as he studied you. 
You continued to sit in your spot on the sofa, posture still timid. Your gaze bounced from one part of the floor to the next, while your expression remained shy. But there was something else lurking behind the expression. If Jungkook focused well enough, he could have sworn the edges of your lips were turned slightly upwards. It was so faint that it might have not even been there, but the more he focused, the more prominent it became to him. 
A naive part of him might have thought it was from being successful in getting him to stay and have the drink, but the more logical part of him had already latched onto an idea, one that refused to be swept to the side any longer. 
His gaze lowered to your collarbone, a glint from the heart-shaped necklace resting over your soft skin catching his attention. Unlike earlier, he noticed that the metal heart was actually a locket, and that its two sides were slightly open. It couldn’t have been ajar by more than a millimetre, but Jungkook still noted it down in his mind.
His gaze then ascended to your face, still a perfect picture of innocence. Your eyes were widened to resemble a curious doe, while your lips were pulled into a timid line. The hands resting in your lap fumbled with each other shyly, really completing the look. 
Finally, his gaze dropped to the drink in his hand. He brought it closer to his face, as if he were about to take a sip, before eyeing the expensive liquid. His gaze fixed on the miniscule bubbles that continued travelled from the bottom of the flute to its surface, causing it to sizzle.
Jungkook slowly leaned forward, keeping his eye on his drink as he brought it away from his lips and instead calmly set it down on the coffee table before him. He then easily pushed himself off of the couch, which caused your brows to jump. There was an apparent question in your expression, one you decided to voice out loud. 
“Is something wrong with the drink?” You asked, voice still soft as your doe eyes looked up at him through your lashes. 
Ignoring the question, Jungkook placed a hand on the edge of the coffee table and slowly pushed it forward so that it was farther away from your seated form. The action caused you to blink. 
“Is everything okay?” You tried again slowly.
But Jungkook then faced you, assessing you for a moment, before he took a few steps in your direction. You had to crane your neck upwards to continue meeting his gaze, his tall form towering over your seated one. This time your brows pulled together, eyes still doe-like, as you continued to question his actions. 
“Jungko-”
Jungkook didn’t let you finish. The second you opened your mouth his large hand suddenly shot out and grabbed your neck, slamming your head into the seat of the couch. You squeaked at the sudden violence, immediately clawing at the fingers now enclosed around your throat. But your efforts were nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s iron hold. 
“J-Jungkook, you’re h-hurting me!” You let out a choked cry, continuing to put up a weak fight against Jungkook. Tears had already started to coat your eyes and run down your cheeks, but Jungkook ignored them completely. He watched you struggle, fascinated by the way you thrashed around like an animal yet every jab at him was weak and ineffective. There was no sign of the strength he had noticed when you had grabbed onto his bicep earlier, so hard that he was sure it would leave a bruise. It was enough to make him grin.
Jungkook lowered his face so that his lips neared your ear, his body still hovering over your smaller form. 
“If you wanted to kill me princess, you’ll have to do a better job than that,” he said, voice low. Your eyes widened even further as you continued to struggle against him, making pitiful noises that didn’t move him in the slightest. 
“K-Kill?! What are y-you talking about?!” You continued to choke out as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your hands had moved to his chest, desperately trying to push him away, yet failing miserably in the process. Jungkook tilted his head at your weak plea, eager to hear what other ways you’d beg him to let you go.
 “P-please-” You began, but then cut yourself off abruptly when your tear-filled gaze met his. You must have seen something in his eyes, because he felt your body slacken, no longer desperate to fight him despite his hold on your neck cutting off your lung’s supply of air. 
Instead you studied him, really studied him. He could see the same calculated look you had used on Taehyung earlier during the wedding. It was as if you were assessing Jungkook, picking out his strengths and weaknesses to figure out how you could use them to your advantage. He watched you weigh options in your head patiently before you finally tilted your head to the side calmly and shot him a look. In response, Jungkook decided to loosen his grip on your throat. He watched you catch your breath for a moment before you spoke. 
“Well, you’re already smarter than the first one,” you commented, but your voice was entirely different. It was no longer soft and timid, rather it was a lot more deep and confident. He watched your expression change in the same manner. Your once wide and innocent looking eyes narrowed into a more matured look, while your lips straightened into more of a dangerously amused grin than a naive pout. 
Then he processed your words. The ‘first one’ had to be your first husband, who Taehyung had explained had been killed on his wedding day. Taehyung had mentioned that a rival gang had been the one to murder him, but the actual one responsible for his death was clear to Jungkook now. 
“Do you make it a hobby to poison your husbands’ drinks on their wedding nights?” He asked, hand still wrapped around your throat. He had situated himself between your legs, his own leg pushing one of yours against the back of the couch while his free hand pushed the other down against the seat of the couch. The position ensured you wouldn’t be able to kick him, while his body hovering over your own seemed to take care of the rest of you. You were smart enough not to try anything anyway, knowing Jungkook’s strength was incomparable to yours.
You shrugged, panting at the limited oxygen entering your lungs, “golf just wasn’t cutting it for me anymore.”
“Golf? How can a weak and helpless girl like you play such a sport?” Jungkook couldn’t help but quip, bordering on mocking you. It only made you grin, clearly no hint of offence in your expression. 
He studied your nonchalant demeanour curiously. You had tried to kill him, and he should send your head back to your father’s doorstep for it. And yet, you couldn’t have looked any less composed with his hand around your neck. Either you were a complete idiot, which seemed much less likely now that he was starting to see your real character, or you believed you had the upper hand in this situation. 
“You’re quite calm for someone I should have killed,” he noted, meaning for it to be a threat. But once again you didn’t seem deterred. In fact, the comment seemed to amuse you even more. 
“Just because you should have me killed doesn’t mean you’ll actually have me killed.”
Jungkook’s brow raised, finding an opportunity to prod you further, “and why won’t I have you killed? Your father sent you here to kill me under the pretence of an alliance. I should start a war for this.”
You nodded, “but you see, my father did send me here to form an alliance. The whole killing you idea was all mine.”
Jungkook scoffed at the lame attempt at a lie, “you expect me to believe that?”
But you scoffed as well, meeting his gaze just as vehemently. It was an odd sight considering you had spent the entire day trying to make yourself small and avoiding his gaze. Yet here you were now, eyes ablaze like a thrashing fire. Not a spontaneously violent fire either, no Jungkook could very easily handle that. You were more like an electrical fire. It was becoming increasingly apparent that he had to be cautious around you, and that trusting any word that came out of your mouth was dangerous. 
“Prove it then,” he challenged, tightening his hold on your neck for a moment to remind you of your vulnerability. 
“I don’t need to prove anything,” you said, a hand coming up to wrap around his wrist, “just go ahead and mention to my father that I’m not a complete airhead that’s afraid of her own shadow. He’ll laugh in your face and call you a moron.”
The revelation that your father was just as clueless about your true self as everyone else only confirmed his initial thoughts. It also proved he couldn’t have trusted you to carry out an assassination attempt, meaning your father really did genuinely want an alliance with the Jeons. That was perfect, because Jungkook had certain plans that relied on this partnership. It was a relief that they hadn’t gone to waste.
“If it wasn’t your father’s idea, then why did you poison my drink?” He asked with a raised brow. 
Silence filled the room following his question, one that allowed you both to hear the sounds of the wall clock. He got the feeling that you were contemplating something once again, planning out your next move.
Then you squirmed underneath him, seemingly getting comfortable, but Jungkook knew better than to believe whatever you appeared as. The second your hand went for the gun wedged in his waistband, he grabbed your wrist, pining it against the couch, while the hand that had been around your throat pulled out the matte black weapon. He slowly brought it to your temple with an amused grin.
“If you wanted it so badly, you could have just asked,” he taunted, bringing the gun down so that its barrel lifted your chin, “now, I asked a question princess.”
You huffed, your amusement finally falling to give him a half-hearted glare.
“I want a divorce.”
Jungkook couldn’t help the laugh that sounded from his lips at your straightforwardness. You just tried to kill him, it didn’t take a genius to work out that you weren’t a fan of this marriage and wanted out of it. 
It was an arranged marriage after all, and even though all arranged marriages didn’t equal a forced marriage, technically he couldn’t be certain that this marriage was of your own choice or not. For all he knew, you had some secret lover waiting for you back home, your marriage with Jungkook coming between the star crossed romance. The thought made his jaw tick. He was far from in love with you, but Jungkook tended to be territorial about what was his. And you were his wife at the moment. 
You, on the other hand, seemed surprised by his reaction, as if it was the last thing you expected him to do.
“I mean you obviously want one now too, right?” You asked with your brows furrowed.
Jungkook didn’t respond, and that only seemed to make you more agitated.
“I’m not the wife that you want. You clearly can’t stand me when I have my ditzy front pulled up and you can’t trust me when I don’t.”
Although the points that you were making were true, there was one important factor you were missing, and that was the alliance between the Jeons and the Lees. Jungkook needed this alliance to, at the very least make himself seem like, he was more powerful than the Parks and the Mins. And with their recent moves -with what he saw at the docks just last night- he needed this alliance now more than ever. So while he normally would have had you executed and then sent your head to your father’s doorstep for your little assassination attempt, this time he was going to have to sweep his pride to the side.
Jungkook placed his free hand next to your head as he pushed himself up, choosing instead to stay standing in front of the sofa. His intense gaze dropped to your still form while his gun hung from his fingers firmly. 
“No,” he finally said, causing your brows to jump. 
You quickly pushed yourself off the couch to stand just as he was, but Jungkook didn’t move. With the sofa right behind you, barring you from taking a few steps back, that left you and him standing dangerously close to each other. The bow from your nightgown pressed against his partly unbuttoned black collar shirt, while its edge grazed his dress pants. Jungkook could feel the heat of your breath raise goosebumps from his exposed collarbone. 
“Why not? I’m not the wife that you want.”
He smiled at the bite in your words, finding your frustration amusing, “you’ve got it all wrong. I simply wanted a wife to make the Lees allies, nothing more.”
Like a fire set alight, your eyes flashed in anger, “I won’t change. I’ll still be your idiot wife that will make you look weak.”
It was true that most wives of mafia leaders were strong and confident beings, symbols of their husbands’ power, and that having a wife like you may be a slightly risky choice. But Jungkook was sure his carefully established reputation could take the hit. Besides, although you might make him look weak, your marriage with him would make him far from actually weak. 
“You think divorcing you won’t make me look weak?” Jungkook decided to say, unsure of if he was saying it to play with you more or to make sure you don’t believe your threats are inconveniencing him, “you’ve fooled everyone with your ditzy facade. A divorce will make them think I wasn’t able to tame a naive girl. You think people will accept me as a leader then?”
You didn’t react to the point, giving him the feeling that you might have already known that might pose an issue for him. Perhaps you thought his reputation could take the hit? When Jungkook really thought about it, it probably could have. He’d worked hard to be both feared and respected for years, a divorce like this, while questionable in the eyes of the people under him, could have been pushed under the rug given time. But the alliance was too important to him. 
And that was something he needed to make sure you knew. 
“That means you will continue to be my wife,” he settled, lowering his gaze so that it met yours with unwavering finality, “so you’ll continue to act like it.”
Jungkook felt his voice naturally lower, a hint of a threat evident in his tone, “listen to me well, Y/N. I don’t care if you act like the dumbest woman on Earth or the most sultry. Regardless, what you will act like is my wife. When we’re outside of this bedroom, we will laugh together, we will hug each other, and we will do whatever other damn thing married couples do so that no one doubts this relationship.”
“And if I don’t?” You bit, the speed of your reply making his jaw tick. 
“If you don’t, you can stay locked in this bedroom until you learn how to behave. Understood?”
Your rage couldn’t have been more prominent, with a fierce glare burning right through him and a pair of fisted hands at your sides. Yet Jungkook ignored it all, instead meeting your gaze coolly as he waited for your confirmation. 
It took a long moment to come, so long that Jungkook thought it wasn’t going to come at all. But eventually he noticed you nod your head. It was barely a movement, your head tipping down slightly before resuming its earlier place, but it was enough for him despite your unwavering glare. 
He finally took a few steps back, thrusting the barrel of his gun once again into the waistband of his pants. Your angry form, on the other hand, didn’t move, opting instead to stand perfectly still despite your calves pressing into the sofa behind you. Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, brushing the strands that had fallen onto his forehead away from his face.
“Good, then we’re done here.”
He finally turned away from you, eyeing the door on his left intently. But before he could move towards it, your words made him pause.
“I just tried to kill you,” you commented before he turned to question its randomness. He found you sitting on the sofa once again, an eerily thoughtful look lurking behind your rage-filled eyes, “how will you know I won’t do it again?”
Jungkook tilted his head in response. 
“You can try all you want, princess,” he said, liking the feeling of that nickname on his tongue more and more. It was almost addicting, “but you won’t succeed.”
Then his lips curled into a sly smirk, “after all, what kind of husband would I be if I barred my wife from her hobbies?”
He was able to just barely catch the roll of your eyes before he turned and pushed through the door he had been eyeing earlier, his hands automatically locking it behind him as he casually surveyed his office. The room had been spared from the new gleaming white and fawn furniture which had taken over his bedroom. Instead, it was filled with familiar dark brown.
Refined dark oak wood shelves and cabinets lined the walls except for the wall behind his large desk, which was made up entirely of a bookshelf filled to the brim with various hardcovers. For the sake of matching with the rest of the house, the marble floor had been done a light fawn colour, while another wall was made up of bulletproof glass, its centre having the ability to slide open to reveal a decent sized balcony. 
Jungkook shrugged off his blazer as he made his way to his desk, laying the piece of cloth over the back of his black leather chair, before he opened the glass cabinet behind it. He didn’t need to think much as his fingers expertly curled around an expensive bottle of whiskey and a crystal glass. Before he knew it, he found himself standing outside on his balcony overlooking his estate, one hand holding the crystal glass filled halfway with light brown liquid while the other clutched the iron railing. 
His gaze bounced around his estate for a peaceful moment as he took a sip from his glass, taking in the expanse of the luscious green field bordering the neatly done driveway despite the darkness of the night. In its centre was an intricately designed white fountain spewing water in four different directions, but all of which emptied systematically into the white basin at its base. The estate itself stretched for metres, the gates enclosing the space barely visible from where he was standing. Jungkook’s thoughts bounced around his head just as quickly as his gaze. 
What a day it had been. At first, you’d been a complete idiot, one that had irritated him to no extent with your doe eyes and evident shyness. 
But then you had turned out to be an entirely different species, far from the innocent and ditzy girl he’d labelled you as. You were cunning and feisty and seemingly very much ready for a divorce. 
Jungkook felt the corners of his lips pull upwards into a grin as he took another sip of his whisky.
You were quite the enigma.
But he was going to enjoy the challenge.  
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A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!
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xo100 · 2 months ago
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Little moments, big hearts - LN4
*:・゚ Summary: You and Lando spend a cozy morning babysitting your brother’s baby. Between playful banter and tender moments, Lando hints at a future together, leaving you both feeling closer and full of hope.
*:・゚ Word count: 2270
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౨ৎ
The sun was just beginning to peek through the curtains, spilling soft, golden light across the room. Lando lay stretched out, one arm slung across the mattress, while you were curled up beside him, close enough to feel the steady rhythm of his breathing. Between you, cradled in a little cocoon of blankets, was your brother’s baby boy, whose eyelids fluttered softly in the early morning light.
Your brother had asked if you and Lando could babysit his little one for the day while he and his wife went out for the first real date they'd had in months. You had barely been able to answer before Lando was nodding enthusiastically, the prospect of a baby-filled day surprisingly welcome. And now, here you were—still half-asleep, all three of you wrapped in a cozy little pile on the bed.
“Did I ever mention,” Lando whispered, his voice still laced with sleep, “that you look ridiculously cute with a baby in your arms?”
You cracked one eye open and met his gaze, fighting off a drowsy grin. “I think you mentioned it once or twice. Maybe.”
Lando’s fingers lightly traced circles along your arm as he shifted his gaze back to the tiny, slumbering face nestled between you. “He’s actually quite peaceful,” he murmured with a smile, “for a little guy who woke up every two hours last night.”
“He has been a little handful,” you admitted, biting back a yawn as you watched the baby stir slightly, one chubby hand curling into a tiny fist.
“But,” Lando added, his voice softening as he adjusted the blankets around the baby, “I kinda get why your brother adores him so much.” He looked up at you, his eyes warm, a mischievous glint lighting up his tired smile. “Though I have to say, I think he looks cuter in my arms.”
“Oh, really?” you teased, rolling over to prop yourself up on an elbow and raising a playful eyebrow. “I think he’d say otherwise.”
Lando laughed quietly, his eyes gleaming. “Care to make a wager on that?”
You snorted, gently nudging him. “As if he’s going to pick sides.”
“Well, I think he’s got good taste,” Lando replied, feigning a cocky smirk. “He already knows I’m the fun one.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, careful not to wake the baby. “I’d hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure I’m his favorite.”
Lando’s eyes twinkled, and he leaned a little closer, lowering his voice to a murmur. “Fine. But I’m your favorite, right?”
Rolling your eyes, you swatted him lightly, but you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “If you keep your voice down and don’t wake him up, you just might be.”
A soft chuckle escaped him, and he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You drive a hard bargain.”
For a few minutes, you just lay there, letting the quiet settle over the room, feeling Lando’s hand gently tracing up and down your arm, your heart warm with the weight of everything familiar and right. The baby stirred every now and then, tiny hands reaching for your fingers, which you offered gladly. Every so often, he’d grasp one of Lando’s fingers, his little face creasing in what looked like the beginnings of a smile.
Lando watched him with a look you’d rarely seen, an expression caught somewhere between awe and contentment. He caught your gaze and offered a sheepish grin. “I think I could get used to this.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” he said softly, glancing back down at the baby. “I mean, lazy mornings like this…with you, and maybe even a little one of our own someday.” He gave a small shrug, his cheeks just a little pink. “Just thinking out loud, you know.”
The thought made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile as you reached out, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “Maybe someday,” you murmured, your heart swelling at the idea of more mornings just like this.
Lando looked at you with such warmth in his eyes, a gentleness that felt like sunlight. “Yeah, someday,” he whispered back, his thumb rubbing small, soothing circles on your hand.
The baby let out a little sigh, his mouth forming a perfect “O” as he squirmed a bit before settling back down, his breathing soft and even. Lando chuckled, pulling you closer so you were nestled against him, your head on his chest as his fingers brushed up and down your back in gentle strokes.
“I think we wore him out,” you murmured, watching the baby’s peaceful face.
“Or maybe he wore us out,” Lando replied, stifling a yawn.
“True,” you admitted, stifling a laugh. “But I don’t mind.”
“Neither do I,” Lando whispered, his voice so soft you could almost believe he was already half-asleep.
With your eyes drifting shut, the morning seemed to stretch on forever, warm and unhurried, filled with a quiet joy that made you want to hold onto every second. You could feel Lando’s heartbeat beneath you, steady and sure, a gentle reminder that this was real. That he was real.
After a few minutes, you felt his fingers brush against your cheek, his touch light and lingering, just enough to make you open your eyes and meet his gaze. He was smiling at you, a slow, tender smile that sent your heart racing all over again.
“Hey,” he murmured softly, just barely above a whisper.
“Hey yourself,” you whispered back, grinning.
Lando leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Just so you know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin, “I’m pretty sure this is the best morning ever.”
And as you lay there, wrapped up in him and in the cozy warmth of your little family-in-the-making, you couldn’t help but think he might be right.
-
As the morning continued to unfold, the soft sounds of the baby’s breathing mixed with the occasional rustle of the sheets as you and Lando shifted to make yourselves comfortable. The sun climbed higher in the sky, filling the room with a warmth that was both cozy and invigorating.
Lando’s gaze drifted back to the baby, who had finally settled into a deeper sleep. “You know,” he said, his voice still low and sleepy, “I never thought I’d enjoy babysitting as much as I do right now.”
You chuckled softly, brushing your fingers through the baby’s soft hair. “I guess it’s different when you’re with someone who makes everything feel like an adventure.”
“Exactly,” Lando replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “And I think I could handle a little adventure with a baby.” He shifted slightly, reaching out to tickle the baby’s tiny foot, eliciting a small, involuntary kick. “See? I’m a natural!”
You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “A natural? You’re just lucky he’s too young to complain about your dad jokes.”
“Hey, my dad jokes are legendary!” Lando protested, but there was no real bite to his words. His laughter mingled with yours, filling the room with an infectious joy that made your heart swell.
The lazy morning drifted on, the three of you wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and comfort. You eventually found your way back to each other, resting against Lando as he softly hummed a tune under his breath. It was a familiar song that had been playing in the background during countless evenings together, and it filled you with a sense of nostalgia.
“Do you remember the first time we tried babysitting?” you asked, your voice soft as you recalled the chaotic but hilarious day filled with spilled snacks and a wailing baby.
“How could I forget?” Lando replied, chuckling. “You practically had a meltdown when he wouldn’t stop crying, and I was trying to convince you that it was just a phase.”
“It was more than just a phase!” you countered playfully. “That baby had some serious lungs.”
“But you handled it like a champ,” he said, his tone turning earnest. “I knew right then that you were going to be an amazing mom someday.”
The words hung in the air, weighty and filled with meaning. You felt your cheeks flush, warmth spreading through you at his compliment. “You think so?”
“Definitely,” he affirmed, looking at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “You have this natural way with him. I can just picture it—us, in the future, juggling a couple of little ones, surrounded by laughter and chaos.”
You smiled, imagining the scene. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying, but more than anything, it filled you with a sense of hope. “That would be quite the adventure.”
“Exactly! Just imagine all the little personalities,” Lando said, his excitement palpable. “And the races! I can see it now—whoever can crawl the fastest to the toy chest wins!”
You giggled, shaking your head at the image of tiny feet scurrying across the floor, driven by the competitive spirit of their father. “They’ll probably inherit your need for speed.”
Lando pretended to be offended, clutching his heart dramatically. “How dare you! I think I’m quite well-rounded.”
“Sure,” you teased, leaning closer to him. “A little too well-rounded sometimes, if you catch my drift.”
Lando feigned indignation, his eyes widening comically. “You’re saying I’m lazy?”
You grinned, nudging him playfully. “Not lazy, just… well, strategically conserving energy.”
“Strategically conserving energy, huh?” he replied, laughter bubbling up in his chest. “I’ll accept that.”
Just then, the baby began to stir again, letting out a soft coo as he blinked his eyes open. Lando’s attention immediately shifted to him, his expression transforming into one of pure adoration. “Hey there, buddy!” he said softly, leaning in closer to the baby. “Did we wake you?”
The baby responded with a wide yawn, stretching his tiny limbs and squirming a little. You exchanged amused glances with Lando, both of you enchanted by the little one’s antics.
“Looks like he’s ready for some fun,” Lando said, scooting back against the headboard and inviting you to join him. You moved carefully, bringing the baby up to sit between you, cradled by your arms.
As you settled in, Lando began to make silly faces, exaggerating his expressions until the baby let out a delighted squeal. “See? He thinks I’m hilarious!” Lando beamed, puffing up his chest as if he had just performed a great feat.
“Maybe he just thinks you look funny,” you retorted playfully, but your heart melted at the sight of Lando completely engaged, his laughter ringing through the room.
You spent the next little while playing with the baby, taking turns making silly noises and watching as he responded with giggles and bright smiles. Each time he let out a laugh, Lando’s face lit up with pure joy, and you couldn’t help but feel the warmth spreading through your chest.
After a while, the baby grew sleepy again, his eyelids drooping as he nestled back against your chest. You gently rocked him, humming a soft lullaby that came to mind. Lando leaned against you, his fingers brushing against your arm as he watched the scene unfold.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a low whisper. “You’re going to be an incredible mom.”
You felt the warmth bloom in your cheeks, your heart racing at his words. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely,” he replied, his gaze steady. “You have this amazing ability to make everything feel safe and loved. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a mom.”
“Lando…” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you struggled to keep the emotion at bay. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It is easy,” he said, a hint of seriousness creeping into his tone. “When you love someone, it’s easy to give everything for them.” He paused, his gaze shifting to the baby, who was now peacefully asleep in your arms. “And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share that with.”
Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice leaving you breathless. In that moment, wrapped up in a blanket with Lando and the baby, you felt a surge of hope for the future, an understanding that this—this little family you had formed—was just the beginning.
“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling a rush of affection for him.
“Anytime,” he replied, leaning over to place a soft kiss on your cheek. “Now, let’s see if we can keep this little one asleep for a little longer. I could use a few more minutes of lazy morning bliss with you.”
You smiled, your heart full as you both settled in, cocooned in warmth and love. Time slipped away, and the world outside faded as you enjoyed the simplicity of the moment—the laughter, the joy, and the shared dreams for a future that felt brighter than ever.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a gentle glow over the room, you felt that today was a day to remember. A day that promised adventure, laughter, and the sweet joy of simply being together. With Lando by your side, and a tiny bundle of joy nestled between you, you couldn’t help but feel that the best was yet to come.
The morning stretched on like the most beautiful dream, and for now, everything felt perfect.
౨ৎ
*:・゚ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!
*:・゚tags;@spookbusters-jr
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saintobio · 7 months ago
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daddy’s little devils.
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when dealing with not only one, but two mini versions of your husband is a type of chaos you never saw coming. but with him by your side, there’s nothing else in life you could’ve ever wished for.
pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader genre. domestic fluff, slice of life, explicit smut cw. dilf!sukuna, profanity, explicit smut, mommy/daddy kink, breeding kink, fellatio, spitting, unprotected, creampie, 18+ notes. 4.5k. just bcos i had to write dilf!sukuna version of this fic. enjoy >:D i was smiling throughout writing this! reblogs are highly appreciated!
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Sukuna as a husband was unexpectedly romantic. Despite his cold and indifferent demeanor towards others, sometimes bordering on snarky and arrogant, he displayed a surprisingly soft side when it came to you. A really, really soft and incredibly clingy side, one where he always wants you by his side and becomes grumpy the moment you leave him alone for even a few minutes, claiming and whining about how you no longer love him. That was a hidden facet of his personality that no one else knew, a side that made him appear submissive to his wife rather than the other way around. 
But to be honest, you loved that about him. You absolutely, with all your heart and soul, adored that about him. 
However, Sukuna as a father was quite the mischief-maker. And having to deal with three versions of him in your life certainly didn’t make things any easier. 
“Ryomen Sukuna… your sons,” you exclaimed, your voice tinged with exhaustion as you burst through the front door, “are a menace.”
Your husband was lounging on the sofa when you came home, an iPad in hand, watching as you kicked off your shoes and juggled with your bag and the twins’ belongings.
“Hey, baby,” he regarded you with a bemused expression. “What did they do this time?”
You didn’t even know where to begin. In all honesty, the question should have been: what did they not do?
“Ugh! My head hurts.” As soon as you released the bags onto the floor, you sank onto the couch, frustration evident in your visage as you ran a hand through your hair. “Raiden stabbed a classmate in the back with a crayon,” you recounted in disbelief, “And Ryuji drew your ‘tattoos’ all over himself with the teacher’s marker.”
Right on cue, the two little devils—his twin boys, his exact carbon copies—barreled into the house like the troublemakers they were.  
“Papaaa!” the twins chorused, leaping into their father’s lap the moment they saw him. 
Sukuna’s smirk blossomed into a grin, clearly amused and somewhat proud of his mini-me’s. “Aww, look at my little tattoo artist!” He applauded with amusement as he carried one twin on his lap. “That’s awesome, Ryuji!” Then, he turned to Raiden, who awaited his praise as well. “And Raiden, Mama said you stabbed someone? I bet your classmate was being a jerk, huh? Good job!”
The twins and their father bonded over the mischief, with Sukuna ridiculously acting as an instigator rather than reprimanding them. Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse. Was he actually entertained with this whole ordeal?  Jesus. You shot Sukuna a glare, finding the situation far from amusing. And as soon as he caught sight of your serious expression, his face softened into an apologetic stance, silently mouthing the word, ‘sorry’.
“Ryo, stop monkeying around,” you stated firmly, crossing your arms. “They’re causing trouble, and you do realize I had to endure a lecture about their unacceptable behavior, right?”
Only when he noticed the genuine concern in your voice did he shift his tone slightly, though you could see a hint of playfulness remaining. With your husband clearing his throat and adjusting in his seat, it seemed like he was merely putting on a show of being a ‘strict dad’ in front of you, while secretly shooting winks at his sons as if to say he was just playing around.
“Alright, alright,” he began putting on an act, addressing his twins, “You two are grounded. Go to your rooms. Now.”
Instead of showing any fear, the twins giggled as they dashed out of the living room without a care in the world—their tiny footsteps echoing all over the house as they ran recklessly. They didn’t even listen when you shouted at them to be careful. And now you couldn’t help but cross your arms, clearly dissatisfied with how your husband handled the situation in jest.
“Baby, come on,” he coaxed, drawing you closer and enveloping you in his strong embrace. You could feel his chin resting on your shoulder as he placed a kiss on your cheek. “I understand your frustration. They’re naughty when they want to be. But you have to admit, they’re showing some… initiative.”
Raising an eyebrow, you watched as he struggled to suppress a laugh at his own words. “Initiative? They’re supposed to be learning how to share and play nice, not how to terrorize their classmates!”
“Right, right. Of course,” he murmured, attempting to ease the tension with a gentle massage on your shoulders. “I understand. I’ll have a talk with them, mommy. Let’s not get angry now.”
The dilemma here was your desire to maintain the facade of a strict mom, to avoid the embarrassment of picking up your kids from daycare for causing yet another trouble. You loathed the judgmental stares from other parents, the silent accusation that you and your husband weren’t disciplining your children properly. It was as if they viewed you as terrible parents. Like you didn’t raise your kids right. 
At first, their opinions didn’t bother you; after all, they knew nothing about your family beyond the PTA meetings you’ve had to attend. But time and time again, after having to offer countless apologies to the parents of your sons’ classmates and the teachers who had to deal with them, their scrutiny was starting to get into your head—that perhaps you weren’t as strict as you thought. Perhaps you were too lenient. Perhaps you needed to assert your authority over your children so they’d learn to listen to you.
Yet, despite your resolve, you couldn’t resist the charm of your twins. They were just too adorable for their own good. And, well, their dad wasn’t exactly lacking in the charm department either.
With a sigh, you leaned against his chest. “I just want them to grow up to be good, not little terrors.”
Sukuna tenderly lifted your chin, planting a soft, affectionate kiss on your lips. “I promise, they’ll turn out great. Let’s not be too hard on them.”
~~
You had to acknowledge Sukuna’s efforts and give credit where it’s due. After he had promised to ‘talk’ to the kids, you did notice a marked improvement in their behavior since then. You and your husband used to take turns picking up the twins from daycare, but recently, he had insisted on doing it more frequently than you, saying that as his latest project had been completed, he now had more available time to pick up the twins after work.
You suspected the real reason behind his request was to alleviate your stress from constantly dealing with your sons’ antics. Knowing him, Sukuna also wanted to gauge the current atmosphere at the school by having conversations with the teachers and other parents to ensure there were no issues like bullying or other serious matters. 
With that solution in place, Raiden and Ryuji became much less of a handful, and the main reason being the reward system that Sukuna had implemented for the kids, where he promised to buy them expensive toys if they earned stars for good behavior each week.
So that was how it went for the next two weeks. No calls from distressed teachers, no calls from concerned parents. In fact, the twins eagerly showed you their progress and proudly displayed the stars on their hands each time they received them. You couldn’t help but swell with pride at their accomplishments, because as small as they were to some people, they were huge achievements for you and your husband as their supportive parents. 
At least, you could relax for now. With the twins having toned down their mischievous shenanigans, your mind was more at ease. To be fair, they might seem like little devils wherever they went, but when they were peacefully sleeping like they were now on the couch, they appeared as absolute angels in your eyes. 
The living room was bathed in a dim light, with the glow of the TV screen illuminating their cute, little faces as they snuggled up together on the couch, in their peaceful slumber sandwiched between you and your husband. They had dozed off before the movie ended, and now, with the credits rolling, your family movie night concluded earlier than expected.
“My precious babies,” you cooed in a hushed voice, gently stroking Ryuji’s cheek and planting a kiss on Raiden’s nose. Their eyes, their brows, their nose, their lips—every detail was taken from their father, and nothing from you. But you didn’t mind, because you knew just how strikingly handsome they would be when they grow up. “Looks like our little troublemakers couldn’t make it to the end of the movie.” 
Sukuna chuckled softly and glanced down at his sleeping sons with a fond smile. In holding his family close, he could feel that blissful warmth flooding his heart at the sigh of his wife and his kids snuggled together. “They’re tired today. Didn’t even last an hour into watching Megamind.” 
You smiled, carefully rising from the couch so as not to disturb the sleeping twins. The moment you caught your husband’s eye, you gestured for him to lift Raiden into his arms. “Let’s get them to bed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, scooping up Raiden, while you lifted Ryuji, and together you carried your kids to their room. 
After tucking each twin into bed and giving them a final kiss on the forehead, you motioned for your husband to quietly exit the room with you. He was still adjusting the AC for their comfort before following you out close behind. The lights in their room now completely switched off. 
“They’re out like a light,” Sukuna whispered as both of you made your way towards the master bedroom. 
You stifled a yawn, stretching your arms. “Finally, some peace and quiet.” 
“Nuh-uh,” countered your husband, who was now grinning mischievously as he stopped in his tracks and grabbed you by the waist. “Not so soon, wife.” 
Before you knew it, you were pressed against the wall, a mere few inches outside your bedroom’s door, caged between your husband’s toned arms as he looked down at you like a lion looking at its prey. His animalistic gaze never failed to send you into an orbit of weakness, like always. “H-Hey.” 
A teasing smirk then appeared on his handsome face. “You know, babe, now that the boys are asleep, we could really make good use of this time.” 
“Really, now?” You held back a chuckle, cheeks heating up from the wanton desire on your husband’s eyes. As you crossed your arms and leaned against the wall, you didn’t realize that such action only caused him to go even crazier than he already was. 
“Dammit.” His eyes danced in lust as he stared at your cleavage when you crossed your arms. He had good self-control, too. That was… until he couldn’t resist it anymore. He had to have his hand squeeze one breast gently, fondling the rounded mass like they were his personal stress balls. “Are you ovulating, honey? They look huge.” 
You weren’t sure as it had been while since you tracked it, but your breasts did feel heavier lately. And sore, too, because he was kneading them. “Hmm. I might be expecting my period soon.” 
Very playfully, Sukuna leaned forward to trail kisses along your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin as he spoke, “What do you say we add another one to the bunch?” was his whispered suggestion, “A little girl, maybe? I know a few positions.” 
“Are you serious?” You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a laugh. “With these two little devils wreaking havoc, you still want to add more chaos to the mix?” 
His finger was already looping around the strap of your nightgown, pulling it down with a salacious upward curve of his lips. “You know you love the chaos, babe.” You could feel his hands moving to grab a handful of your buttocks, squeezing your bum eagerly. “Plus, imagine all the mischief our little girl could get up to.” 
You couldn’t help it either—the desire, the tension. Not to mention, your husband was looking undeniably hot right now, with the muscles on his chest pressing against yours, making you want nothing but to see him shirtless again. Those toned abs, those muscular arms. God. His lips were also soft and sweet when he pulled you into an open-mouthed kiss 
“You are,” you mumbled in between kisses, breathing heavily against his mouth, “very naughty, mister.” 
You felt him smirking through your kiss before he grabbed your thighs, and lifted you up so you could wrap them around his waist. The kissing, the very intense kissing, with his tongue rolling against yours and you moaning against his mouth, was already as erotic as it could get. When was the last time you two had sex? Last week? You couldn’t remember which specific day it was, but you did recall it being only a quick one in the shower. This time, it definitely wouldn’t be a quickie as he seemed to have plans in giving you a sleepless night. 
Sukuna carefully placed you down in your king-sized bed, pulling his shirt off and once again crawling above you to hungrily meet your lips with his. And did you mention he was a good multitasker?  As he nibbled on your lower lip, breathing you in like you were an addicting drug he couldn’t get enough off, his fingers were also rubbing your clothed entrance, pulling your underwear to the side to touch your moist cunt. 
“Mhmm—!”
Two fingers entered you without warning, and he pulled away from the kiss to look at the face you were making as he used his digits to find your sweet spot. “You’re so fuckin’ hot, Y/N.” 
You arched your back, spreading your legs wide open to give him full access to your core. The moment he was able to reach your g-spot, you could feel your lower abdomen coiling from the intense wave of pleasure that was coursing through your body. “Nghh—yes, daddy. That’s it!” 
A few more pumps, hard and fast, had you gasping for air like a fish out of the ocean. He seemed to have loved the sight too, as he kept his dark, sultry eyes fixed on you while he fingered you like there was no tomorrow. “You’re one hot mama, aren’t you?” he asked, withdrawing his fingers and sucking on them to taste your slick. “Can I fuck your mouth, baby?”
“‘Mmkay,” you answered, pulling yourself up to help him rid himself of his pajamas. The sight of his bulge—his big, angry bulge—made you all the more excited. You had seen him many times before and knew just how huge his member could grow when aroused, but it still didn’t change the fact that seeing his fully erect cock surprised you every single time. Because it was thick, it was long, it was meaty, it was veiny. “Gosh, lovey. You’re huge.” 
He obviously liked hearing that. Not only did you inflate his ego, it also made him desire you even more as he positioned his shaft on your face, pulling your hair into a ponytail. “Open your mouth.” 
Like a good girl, you did as told. And your eyes went wide as he forced his cock inside, thrusting balls deep in and out of your mouth. He was doing it roughly to the point where your eyes pooled with tears because your gag reflex kept on fighting back. You couldn’t even taste him properly because your saliva was coating his entire length, but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling in satisfaction as you watched your husband throw his head back from the utmost pleasure of being inside your mouth. 
“Ah, fuck. Fuck.” He cussed multiple times, jostling his hips before pulling his member out. “Your mouth’s so warm.” 
For a moment, you replaced your mouth with your hand, an elbow propped on the other as you stroked his girthy length. You jacked him off at the pace you knew he preferred, and placed your tongue flat on the swollen pink head like it was a lollipop. You were kissing the tip with your eyes staring back at him, ultimately driving him into insanity. “Like that, daddy?” 
“Fuck yes,” he grunted, his vulgar thoughts now consuming his actions as he grabbed your chin up, only to then spit in your mouth. “I’m gonna get you pregnant tonight,” he declared in a deep, raspy voice, “Gonna fill up that pretty little pussy with my cum.” 
Damn, he’s serious about it? 
As embarrassing as it may sound, you could feel your pussy clenching from his lewd words. “You want a baby girl for real?” 
Your husband lowered himself down to meet your level, undressing you impatiently like a rabid dog who was ready to bite its victim. And in your naked glory, he then spread your legs apart and rubbed his shaft in between your labia. “I do,” he said, puppy eyes hoping for you to say yes, “I want a baby girl, please. Please. Please.” 
Could you even resist this man? 
You gave him an answer by nodding, holding your smile by biting your lower lip as you watched your silly husband reach through the nightstand in search of the lube. Because he was too crazed with excitement, a couple packs of unused condoms fell out of the drawer as he grabbed the strawberry-colored tube. 
“Take it easy. Jeez,” you teased. 
“You’re driving me nuts here.” 
You decided to tease him even more by touching yourself, your fingers doing circular motions on your clit as your husband coated his entire length with the water-based lube. The smell of artificial strawberry permeated through the air, and with it being your favorite scent, you felt more stimulated than ever. “Mmm. I want you inside me now, lovey.” 
“What mommy wants, mommy gets,” he joked, manhandling both your legs into placing it above his shoulders and putting you into his favorite position. The classic missionary. “Ah, shit.” He buried his member agonizingly slow. “Why… are… you so damn tight tonight?” 
Maybe because you were clenching around his cock, squeezing his angry member with your velvet walls and giving him that extra good grip he always went absolutely wild for. “A-Aah! Y-You love it.” 
“Fuck, yeah.” He began thrusting now. Using his thumb to spread your slit apart, he delighted in seeing his cock go in and out of your entrance, watching the full length be swallowed by your cavern entirely. And he was going from slow and sensual, to rough and fast in less than a minute. 
He was just far too deep inside. Now, you were losing hold on your sanity as with every jostle of your body, your insides were also reacting more and more violently with your knees and thighs shaking. The skin slapping sounds were bouncing across the room, and you were hoping, praying, that your soundproof walls worked well enough not to wake your innocent twins. Because at this rate, you were going to squirt all over their father. It had been sometime since you felt the need to pee during intercourse, but that also speaks of just how intense Sukuna was plowing his hardened cock inside of you. 
“D-Daddy, I… I’m…” 
He attached his mouth on your right tit, playing his tongue around the nipple. “Mhm… You’re so sexy, mommy.” 
Two little boys. And your husband still won’t stop until he gets his little girl. 
Your mind was a whirlwind that night. The events that followed became such a blur because your pleasure overpowered your ability to think straight. All you could remember was Sukuna releasing his warm load into your womb after chasing his climax, and immediately after, he had your body twisted around and positioned into what he refers ‘the undefeated’ doggy style. 
Gosh, he was telling the truth when he said he was going to fuck you all night with no breaks in between. 
Because now, you were on all fours, being pounded from behind as you had your hands gripping the sheets each time he propelled his body forward. He was shoving his cock from behind like it was his day job, already familiar with the perfect angle and depth in which he had to rut you in. With his hands holding your hips in place, he raised one leg on the mattress, and the other knee still intact, to fuck you senseless. 
“Mmm—Aah! Haah!” 
The deeper he penetrated you, the lower your upper body went. You were now in a position with your chest down low, and your ass up high so that he could see your hole in a much, much better view. “You think you can take ‘nother round after this, babe?” he asked, breathless as he reached forward to squeeze your tit. “I don’t wanna push your limits.” 
“I-I don’t t-think I c-can…”
You could hear his deep chuckle despite your frenzied state, and soon enough, he was increasing the speed of his thrusts once more, cursing and moaning while doing so, before shooting thick ropes of seed inside your cunt. 
He collapsed next to you right after that, while you were completely limp in labored breaths as you lay beside him. The feeling of his semen dripping out of your pussy had you reaching for your husband’s arm, pointing towards the box of tissue with your half-lidded eyes. You were too sore to move. 
Sukuna immediately got the cue. “I got it,” he said, pecking your lips before doing the task of wiping the mess on your body. And as soon as he was able to clean you off, he quickly went back beside you, pulling you into a sweet, husbandly embrace. “Good night, beautiful.” 
You hummed in your drowsy state, his chest becoming the perfect pillow for your head to sleep on. “Night, night, handsome.” 
~~
Good lord was his body sore. 
But was that the greatest fucking sex he has ever had? Hell yes. It was so good that he even dreamed of it. 
As the morning sun streamed through the curtains, the aftermath of your passionate night was evident in the tousled sheets and sleepy smiles that you both had that morning. He still had you in his arms, your body secured around his as he pressed his lips into your temple. 
“Good morning, my love.” 
You stirred awake, blinking sleepily as you stretched beneath the warmth of the covers. He could tell you were still groggy from last night’s events, and he was a hundred percent certain that you were also too sore to walk. “Morning, lovey.” 
But before he could savor the domestic moment with you, the bedroom door burst open, and a fully awakened Raiden and Ryuji came in with their energy back at 100%. Oh, boy. Sukuna just had to forget locking the door last night. 
Raiden, in his polka pjs, was jumping up and down excitedly. “Mama! Papa! Wake up!” 
He was joined by his twin brother, Ryuji, who was in his striped pajamas, skipping around the room. “We want pancakes, pwease!” 
Sukuna could feel you stiffening next to him, and he saw the look of panic in your eyes upon realizing that you were very much naked under the sheets. So, hastily and frantically, your beloved husband pulled the duvet, covering your chest from being exposed and hoping to conceal any tell-tale marks. 
“Shh! Keep it down, boys,” he reprimanded the twins, “Mama and Papa are still sleeping.”
The stubborn Ryuji placed his hands on his hips. “But you’re awake, Papa!” 
On the other hand, Raiden, who climbed the king-sized bed, was pointing towards his mother. “Mama, what’s on your shoulder?” 
At the sight of the marks, Sukuna’s eyes widened in alarm and his cheeks were limned with a crimson hue. His mind raced for a plausible explanation because those exact bruises on your shoulder were, in fact, hickeys. So before you could speak, he took it upon himself to handle the matter. “That... It’s, uh, a battle wound.” He mentally kicked himself for such a ridiculous lie. “Mama’s very brave, you see. She fought off a giant mosquito last night.”
You stifled a laugh, burying your face into the pillow for a moment, and later deciding to play along. “That’s right,” you agreed, nodding seriously. “Mama’s a warrior.”
Raiden and Ryuji, however, were too smart for this as the twins exchanged skeptical glances, clearly not buying their parents' explanation. And with Raiden being the more vocal one, he pointed it out first. “But why does it look like a bunch of tiny kisses?”
Sukuna struggled now, and while he was still thinking of another excuse, you finally stepped in to try and save the day. 
And thank the heavens, you handled it a lot more casually than he did. “It’s a secret,” you said, smiling at your kids, “Mama and Papa have a secret game they play sometimes. Right, Papa?”
Your husband quickly joined in on your little antic. “That’s right, it’s a secret game! But it’s only for grown-ups,” he clarified to the curious twins, who were clearly intrigued by this mysterious ‘game’. “You two aren’t old enough to play yet.”
The twins exchanged curious glances, their skepticism giving way to fascination. “Okay,” Raiden said slowly, still pondering the explanation. Ryuji just shrugged, accepting it more readily. 
Only then did Sukuna breathe a silent sigh of relief as he was grateful for your quick thinking. But with children like these two, the interrogation was clearly far from over because Ryuji decided to make things even more complicated when he picked up an unused packet of condom on the floor, its bright red color attracting his interest. “Mama, is this candy?” asked your son, pointing to the strawberry logo, “Can I have it?” 
“No, sweetheart, that’s not candy,” you softly spoke. The composure in your voice was outstanding. Sukuna should definitely learn a thing or two from you. “Give it to Mama.” 
And while you dealt with the other twin, Raiden jumped out of bed and tugged at his father’s arm persistently. “Papa, pancakes!” he demanded, throwing a tantrum as he chanted. “Pancakes! Pancakes! We want pancakes!” 
“Okay, okay!” The father sighed inwardly, shooting you a look for help as if he was their slave for the day. All you could do was chuckle and mouth ‘you got this’ back to him. Well, he didn’t have much of a choice, did he? “Coming right up, you little monsters.” 
“Yayy!” 
“Woohoo!” 
You, barely handling the noise at six in the morning, groaned playfully next to your husband. “See? Having another kid isn’t as easy as you think,” you told him, “We can barely handle these two.” 
Sukuna displayed a grin, running a hand through his hair as he looked at his wife and your little ones. “Boys, do you want a baby sister? Yes or yes?” 
Raiden and Ryuji, in unison, answered giddily. “Yes! We want a baby sister!” 
A look of defeat clouded your eyes, while your husband laughed and kissed your forehead. “You heard them, love,” he reminded, softly, “I want my baby girl soon.” 
He knew that, despite your playful protest, having a daughter was a shared desire. “Fine.” 
So in swift movements, your husband slipped into his pants beneath the covers, then got out of bed to scoop up the twins in his arms. “Alright, breakfast time you two!” he announced, heading towards the door with his sons cheering together. And just before leaving, he cast one last tender smile in your direction. 
“I love you, Y/N. Chaos and all.” 
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2K notes · View notes
ink-n-shadow · 3 months ago
Note
Thinkin’ about Price, who’s on med leave and under strict orders not to engage in any strenuous activity, begging his controversially young wife to take pity on an old man and fuck him.
Your daughter is born nine months later. You like to joke she exists bc your husband was actually home long enough to put a baby in you.
NOW YOU GOT ME THINKIN ANON—
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MEDICAL LEAVE
𝜗𝜚 the one where john's finally home long enough to get you pregnant
𝜗𝜚 pairing: john price x younger wife!reader (reader is afab) 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), age gap (price is in his late 30s, reader is late 20s), mentions of surgery/recovery, john having a pain kink (need i say more?), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it/get tapped), unedited as usual, bad ending
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"john, the doctor had strict orders for you to—"
you're cut off mid-rant by john slotting his lips over yours, the mitts of his hands covering your cheeks and tugging your face closer to his. his tongue juts out to lick needily at the seam of your lips, the faint taste of the painkillers he had just taken still fresh on his tastebuds only to be replaced by the sweet mint of your toothpaste.
john would've kept kissing you, too, if he hadn't tried to twist his hips over to face you, making him pull away sharply and hiss out at the way the fresh sutures etched in his ribs twinged in pain.
"john—"
"m'fine," john grunts out hoarsely as he lays back down flat on his back, eyebrows pinched low in the middle of his forehead and tongue licking at the remnants of your spit on his lips. "just wanna—christ—wanna be inside ya."
and that’s how you got to your current position, sitting directly behind john’s thick and leaking cock as you lean back to rest your hands on his hairy muscled thighs—anywhere that wasn’t sutured closed or bruised from the surgery he’d undergone. from beneath furrowed brows, your soft eyes focused on the molten heat buoying in his pupils.
“i don’t wanna accidentally hurt you, john,” the end of your sentence comes out pinched in a whine as the calloused pad of his thumb begins circling your sopping clit, your hips jumping at the stimulation and instinctively rolling forward against his sensitive cock.
john uses the thumb petting at your clit to distract you from the way he manhandles you up, notching the head of his cock between your folds and holding you there for a moment. “i don’t fuckin’ care if it hurts, ‘lright? don’t wan’ you stoppin’ until i feel you cummin’ ‘round my cock four times, and i fill up this pretty fuckin’ pussy—understand me?”
and even though john’s cemented into your shared bed on his back, he keeps you all nice and obedient under his thumb, using the hand he keeps groping at your hip as a way to guide the way your movements. every so often, his sutures would twinge in just a way to send a jolt of pain up his spine—but then he would feel your gummy walls gripping his cock just a little tighter, and the pain would warp into delicious pleasure.
you, ever the good little wife you were, did exactly as john told you—only pulling off of him when your fluids were a messy mixture between my thighs and you could barely walk to the bathroom on wobbly legs.
it didn’t even cross your mind when a month and a half later, you’re a mess of hormones and continuous morning sickness that threatens to knock you out from work for a couple days. john tells you it’s fine, that he’ll work some more late nights to cover your income for a couple days, but you’re determined to keep working.
only after nearly fainting at your home one morning (after john fucked you through at least 2 orgasms) did you find yourself on the doctor’s examination table, fingers nearly snapping john’s hand bones in half when he read off the positive pregnancy result.
and when your daughter is born nine months later (december 14th, by the way—a sagittarius baby), you’re curled up in the hospital bed with john holding you closely, the baby sandwiched comfortably between you two and grappling at one of his thick fingers.
“y’know how long i’ve been waiting for this?” you giggle out softly as you nose against john’s beared jaw, eyes fluttering closed and system overflowing with painkillers and endorphins. “guess you were finally home long enough to actually put a baby in me this time.”
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