#$20 an hour for a job i used to do and be really good at with part time hours i fucking miss please god?
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does anyone know, is, is fucking UPS striking or not. can i apply to them without being a scab or is that scab behavior. maybe im stupid but im really struggling to figure this out genuinely.
#toy txt post#$20 an hour for a job i used to do and be really good at with part time hours i fucking miss please god?#but if its scabbery then i dont want to. i have looked up the local teamsters chapter and it feels Inconclusive.#maybe im just stupid idk! but on the local chapter website they literally link to the ups application#but on their fb theres pics of them practice picketing? i dont know what that means. can i quit my job and apply or not.#i guess i could Email Someone but like thats very stressful dear god#trying to avoid that#also i feel like my question is blunt and rude and i dont have the brain rn to try to make it Nice and Polite
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(just saw multiverse of madness too) if I *had* to give the movie something positive, its that at least they got a good person for the job in regards to directing the movie more towards the side of horror
(they got sam raimi, creator of the evil dead series, is what I mean xbzjdhjx)
(Multiverse spoilers btw)
Honestly the parts of the movie that actually weren't classic marvel nonsense, like wanda vs the illuminati or the whole ending section with strange in the broken house are actually fucking great
Like this movie could have actually been good if it wasn't about superheroes with the most bizarre crossovers of all time and was more like the first movie where it focused on the magic and the occult. It would have been super interesting otherwise but no, each new marvel movie has to serve as an introduction to the next 5 movies theyre planning on making, and this one especially required you to watch several other movies and several other tv shows to even understand what was happening
#ask#anon#there are some really cool visuals for sure though like. when they actually use color grading properly instead of just cranking saturation#also the woman who plays wanda is SUCH a good actress she did such a fantastic job for such a bad movie#its like watching 2 hours of nonsense for 10 minutes of good parts#honestly tho I actually really enjoyed wanda in general. they did do her justice at least in the second half#when the characters are not infodumping the lore on you for 20 minutes at a time in unnatural conversations#like the scene in the tunnels with her eyes glowing is so good#whatever man. its so insane#Also the ending is silly as fuck I actually laughed
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i figured this week was gonna cause a meltdown, i just hoped i’d make it til friday :/
#my job officially sucks now bc we’ve hit the 3 month mark and thats when all jobs suck#and now i’m apparently working 28 hour weeks#and the store is closing so i’m gonna have to transfer to a new store 20 min away#and i haven’t eaten today yet#and all my nails are broken from work bc the stupid shelves needed to be moved and shit#and the grocery store was a hassle and i onyl got a few things but it was still expensive#and everything EVERYTHING is just so frustrating to do and can’t just be done quickly#i keep fucking up and needing to redo it multiple times#i just#and i keep telling myself i don’t care but no one at work uses they/them for me even tho its on my nametag#even most of my coworkers#and it’s not like im gonna correct them#im juat too tired#im too tired#and i want to cut my hair and make soup and do stuff but im so tired and there’s no time#i don’t know what to do#i’m really sorry i try not to post vents very much#it doesn’t make me feel good#im sorry
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#i literally cannot with my job anymore#they've been laying people off in the thousands with 1 hour notices#and as someone who already struggles with PTSD and anxiety I'm already primed to be bracing myself for The Worst Case Scenario all the time#and now it's not an Irrational Fear TM because it's literally happening to people seemingly at random#new hire? gone. manager who's been with the company for 20+ years? gone. 7 years? gonw#like Jesus Christ just hit me already and get it over with i cannot handle the 'when's the blow going to land' tension and anxiety anymore#we don't even get paid well for the work we do#and this is like a Good Corporate Professional Job for a multi billion dollar bank?????#and most of us are still paycheck to paycheck despite making double the state minimum wage#i can't i just can't i feel another Total Meltdown coming on i stg#what is the POINT of doing my job well when I'm just as likely as anyone else to get fired same-day with no warning#why do well? why give a shit?#why improve? i could pour hours and hours and mental and emotional energy into it and still not have a job tomorrow#like it's always been a possibility because america is almost exclusively made up of at will employment#but now it's not a possibility. it's LIKELY. if not inevitable#and that really doesn't play well with my traumatized and miswired brain
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This has got to be the worst move out yet
#packing perils#student living#Uni shenanigans#ace is a mess#oh my god. okay so we start on Tuesday ive been gradually moving my stuff over to my friends house#cus were moving in together in September and shes staying in her place over the summer so well have everything in one place to move in#so take some stuff over to hers on tuesday before her shift then we walk to work together i collect her keys and say bye#go back to mine pack up some more stuff warned her i planned on doing 2 trips while she was working so start figuring out whats going#end up with two tote bags a crate a box and a large bag of boxes decide ill take the heavier tote bag and the box on the first trip#as i cant really carry much else with the box due to its awkward size even though its not particularly heavy and cut through the park to#shave off some time feel pretty good when i get there it wasnt unbareable esp after Saturday when carrying 4 heavy shopping bags ended up#covering me in bruises and scratches and messing my back shoulder and neck up so i feel like underestimated myself on this trip and like i#can take everything on the next trip well its already late in the day cus my mate does evening shift so by time i get back its half 9 so i#decide to cut through the park again to save time but the large shopping bag with my saucepans casserole dish etc is difficult to carry due#to how bulky it is and the crate tho it has handles is also unwieldy so my arms are being bruised and scratched up i cant waste time carryin#everything back home just to put one thing down at this point but im considering putting the biggest bag down in some overgrown plants in#the park speeding to my mates and coming back for it its a stupid and risky idea but its getting dark the sun is almost completely set and#no matter how often i rest i just cant manage it and my damn brain starts worrying about being murdered so i ditch the bag and i can move#much quicker now so rush to my mates and rush back reassure her as im leaving hers that i am bringin her keys back its just after 11 at this#point cus its over 35 minutes to get to hers i get back to the park in just over 20 my bag is still there! and i dont get attacked get my#stuff to her room then hustle to get to her job before she finishes at 12 get there a few minutes to spare shes not ready to go yet anyway#she tells me shes not comfortable with me walking back in the dark i should stay at hers i cant ive got an assignment so she says shes#walking me to mine then going to her boyfriends 5 mins down the road get back to mine shower have dinner and crank out my Wednesday 4pm#assignment by 7am go to bed get about 2 hours sleep before tge fire alarm is tested and then ive got to be up for a meeting with our new#landlord anyway and ofc its raining come back from our meeting grab food and start packing up some more sht get buses over to hers this time#together come back pack some more hope the rain dies down a bit but it doesnt look like its stopping and i somehow fcked my foot carrying#stuff earlier so she texts a coworker asking if they can pick us up they agree so organise a few more things but then a puddle causes their#car to break down the next bus is in over half hour so mate decides shes gonna run to her boyfriends to charge her phone while we wait for#the next bus to be due while shes gone i finish sorting things she then calls asks me to book a taxi cus the rain has only gotten worse when#taxi arrives realise that student accom is basically flooded deciding what to do while at hers cus the weather is unbareable she goes to get
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school days start at 9:30 now bc of ramadan and my lecture is also at 9:30 so now instead of a peaceful drive to uni i have to fight for my life in the traffic every day 🥲🥲🥲 makes me want to rip my hair out wallah….
#i hate driving with a passion…. i literally just had an accident and it was insane i don’t think i recovered mentally yet….#why isn’t there a good public transport system i hate this country please do better#they keep talking about reducing emissions yet they everyone is basically forced to drive …. crazy#how will we do our jobs to achieve that now if u make it this hard for us#anyway its FINE we’re moving out soon and my uni drive will be reduced by 20 mins <3333 i can even walk to uni if i really wanted to#< but the campus is HUGE so it will take like maybe 2 hours#i would never do that in summer i’d literally die#i feel like i haven’t rambled in here in a while i miss it T–T love oversharing with u my beloved mutuals
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Simple Math / Part Six
Simple Math masterlist
Ghost/Soap/female reader
4k words - AO3
Warnings - tags: 18+ MDNI. No smut but this fic contains mature themes. Nurse reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Reference to past domestic violence. Angst. Alcohol. Crying, anxiety, panic. Johnny in distress. Johnny is still a menace. Soft dads. POV switches.
Note: Safe sleep for infants always. I do not endorse sleeping with your baby in your bed. This is a fic not real life.
Simon does some digging.
“Shhh now, ye’re alright.”
Johnny coos, Penny cradled up to his chest. He’s not wearing a shirt, eyes still half sealed shut with sleep, and she squalls in his arms, screaming as loud as her little lungs will allow. “What is it, mah wee lamb? Are ye hungry? Do ye need a change?” He checks her nappy, efficiently looking for a mess or something to clean up and is nearly disappointed when he finds her still dry. If it’s not her nappy, then maybe her stomach? Could she be hungry again? He thumbs through the notes on his phone to find Simon’s last entry: 23:20 – 50 ML.
That was only an hour ago.
He frowns, walking in a circle, bouncing her gently, trying to settle her back to sleep. She’s so tiny, and still has grown so much in just the short time since they brought her home. It amazes him. It terrifies him.
“What is it, sweet bairn? What’s got ye all upset?” He touches his lips to softest skin he’s ever felt, his thumb trying to swipe away the tracks of tears on her cheeks. “Please dinnae cry. I-“
“You okay?” Simon clears his throat behind him, and Johnny tenses.
“We’re fine. Ye’re supposed to be sleepin’.”
“Heard the two of you in here fussing. Thought I could help.” Simon’s trying to be supportive, trying to be a good partner, Johnny knows, but all he can feel is irritation, a defensive reaction making his hackles rise.
It’s not fair. He’s so good at it. He’s a natural. And Johnny… Johnny feels like he’s failing his own kid, when she’s not even a month old yet.
“I dinnae need-“
“Hey.” Simon touches his elbow, and then his chin, tilting his face upwards. “I know you don’t, love. You’re doing a great job. It’s not your fault she’s having a rough go.” He soothes him, fingers kneading into the top of his spine, squeezing the nape of his neck and pulling him into his arms. Penny is still crying, but softer now, a low-pitched tone of misery that makes his heart ache, and he feels so overwhelmed, so helpless, staring down at her as she tries desperately to tell him what's wrong, the only way she knows how. He rests his cheek against Simon’s chest, melting into his hold, letting him wrap his arms all way around his waist.
“She hates me.” Johnny grumbles, and Simon presses his mouth to Johnny’s temple in short, succinct kisses.
“She doesn’t. She’s brand new. She can’t hate anything, yet, and certainly not her Da.” He strokes her cheek. “Let’s bring her to bed, see if we can get her down and then one of us can put her back in the crib, alright?” Johnny sighs.
“Alright.”
“What’re you doing after this?”
“Going to bed?” What else would you be doing?
“I’m thinking about going to Jackie’s for a drink… wanna come?” Nia untucks her scrubs, pulling the top up over her head.
“Jackie’s, huh?” You chew on your lip. You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t. But… Jackie’s is a dive. It’s dark, and dingy, with black walls, black floors, no window in sight. And... it’s a hospital haunt.
“It’s my birthday.” She whispers, casting a glance around the rest of the room. “I’m not… it’s not a thing, I just want to go, have a few to celebrate.” You take a deep breath. “Please?” She tacks on at the end, and your shoulders dip down in defeat.
“Okay. One. And then I gotta go.”
“Yes!” She cheers, excitement smashing her palms together.
Nothing like a seven am beer.
Jackie’s is a distinct place. It’s one of the only twenty-four-hour liquor licenses left in the city, or so you’ve been told, and has been frequented by hospital staff for decades. It’s dart boards and dark wood floors, cheap beer and rail vodka, a worn to hell pool table, and an old, disabled juke box that someone broke intentionally, years ago. It’s an institution, and reminds you of some old places you used to frequent, when you weren’t… who you are now. Years ago, before, you used to love a good dive bar. Didn’t mind the way the floor stuck to your feet, and you considered yourself nearly tactical at darts. It was a source of pride, the accuracy, the rate at which you could make a bullseye, even when you were a few sheets to the wind.
“Coulda been a surgeon.” You’d tease, a smirk growing across your boyfriend’s face.
“If you were a surgeon, sugar, who’d be at home waitin’ for me after work?” He’d push back, coating the warning in an adoration, giving whoever was undoubtedly watching a slick smile before snaking an arm around your waist and tugging you close. “You don’t need to be surgeon. You don’t even need to work. You have me.”
You thought you knew, then. Knew how to handle it, how to navigate the ever-present, ever-growing threat… but you were wrong.
You were so, so wrong.
“So, heard there’s a spot opening up on days.” Nia chucks her purse at the bar top, climbing onto the stool next to you. “You’ve got the seniority… you givin’ it any thought?” The bartender walks by with a hello, and you nod at him.
“Old Speck please. And no, I like nights.” She raises an eyebrow.
“Didn’t know Americans liked Old Speck.”
“We have it in the states. I didn’t live under a rock.” You quip, and she laughs before ordering her own poison, a choice that makes your own eyebrows shoot up in question. “Vodka on the rocks?”
“I’m a straight to the point kind of girl.” She explains. “So, no days?”
“No days. You?”
“I might. Night shift is kicking my ass.” She complains. “Don’t even know what day it is half the time. My rhythm is off.”
“You need like, at least six months to fully adjust.” You put a note down in exchange for your beer, and then the bartender scuttles away, distracted by some insistent woman at the other end of the bar.
“Six months?!” You’re about to launch into your spiel about how it’s not that bad when your phone vibrates in your pocket.
>Make it home from work alright?
>It’s Johnny, by the way :)
The two texts are the start of a new group chat with your number, Johnny’s number and the number you put in your contacts just yesterday… Simon’s. Your head jerks back on instinct, confused.
“You okay?” Nia asks, and you nod.
“Yeah, fine just…uh-“ She peeks over your arm, and giggles.
“Is that your patient? Two sixty-eight?”
“What?”
“Your patient. The military hottie. The one that’s always lookin’ at your bum.” Your face burns, and she tsks. “Ah, don’t be embarrassed. He’s smokin’. Wish he looked at me the way he looks at you.” You’re surprised at the flare of irritation that starts up in your stomach at her, a hot streak of jealously simmering there, burning away indignantly. “Aren’t they… I mean… isn’t the scary mask guy his partner?” He’s not scary, you scowl inwardly. He’s just… protective. The butterflies in your stomach startle, and you drift back to last night, in the stairwell, in the car.
“You’re doing great, sweetheart.”
“If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.”
Nia says your name, dragging you back to earth, and you shrug. “Yes… they… they’re together. It’s just been hard on them, so I think there’s a bit of an attachment growing there. You know, it’s not unusual.” She bites her lip, mouth pushing up into a smile.
“They’re quite fit. Wouldn’t mind if they formed an attachment to me.” She pauses, delicately sucking her gasoline on ice up through a straw. “Gonna text him back?”
“Nia.” You hiss, and she barks out a laugh.
“Oh, come on, just a bit of fun. I don’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s not appropriate.” You remind her, and she rolls her eyes.
“You’re such a stick in the mud sometimes. Remember when Marshall was fucking his brain cancer girl? Now that, was not appropriate.” You do remember- Marshall’s sudden absence, the whispering, the HR investigation that spanned weeks, interviews with everyone on the floor.
Your beer goes sour in your stomach.
“I gotta get home.” You wrap an arm around her shoulder with a squeeze and a whisper. “Happy Birthday.” You feel bad for abandoning her, and maybe in another life you might even consider her a friend, but you’re already too exposed here as it is, and staying any longer would be too indulgent- not to mention, incredibly stupid.
You pass another nurse on the way out and him know that Nia’s at the bar, alleviating your guilt just a tad before you hike up your hood and make a beeline for the train.
By the time you get back to your hotel room, get showered, and collapse on top of the far too big bed, it’s nearly been an hour. You plug your phone in, unlocking the screen to flick on do not disturb, and realize the group message is still open, cursor blinking, waiting for your response.
It’s fine. You can tell you got home okay, that’s not crossing any lines.
>Yeah, just got settled for bed. See you later!
A text from Simon chimes back within a minute, and you squint at it, one eye open.
>Get some rest.
The floor is dead silent at the beginning of your shift.
Nothing beeps or whines or cries, no noise echoes around the corner to where you’re scrolling through Johnny’s chart, getting caught up on his day, triple checking that his levels and vitals are all within normal range. He passed his follow up for the liver procedure with flying colors, and the relief you feel is not unexpected, the weight of worry lifting free from your shoulders without another thought.
He’s fine, he’s better than fine, he’s… too healthy for the ICU.
Reality hits you like a truck, and you stop short, sneakers squeaking along the floor.
He won’t be your patient anymore.
He won’t… be your patient anymore.
The thought twists you into a mess of complicated emotions. A snarled, tangled viper's nest of unknowns, uncertainties, things you're desperately trying to tuck back behind your heart, hide them away so no one, not even yourself, can see them.
This is a good thing. This is what you want. Stable patients, on their way to recovery.
So, you’ll miss them, that’s okay. There’s a little bit attachment, that’s alright.
This is the best case scenario. You’re making a mess of things. You’re getting too involved with your patient and his family. You let Simon drive you home, for fucks sake.
They’re getting confused, because you’re the caretaker. It happens all the time. As soon as Johnny steps down, they’ll forget all about you.
You’re risking too much. You’re risking their safety, their child’s safety, your own.
It’s for the best.
You put your best work smile on when you approach his room, pulling as much air into your lungs as you can manage.
Focus on your job. Your patient. You’re a professional.
Johnny is alone. No Simon, no visitors, nobody keeping him company. It’s a strange sight, and he looks almost uncomfortable, creased brow lowered down over his eyes. That’s… odd. Worse, there’s a heaviness in his gaze, sadness pulling his mouth downwards, usual playful demeanor nowhere in sight. Even sad, he’s a marvel, and every day, he gets stronger, he gets healthier, he gets closer to leaving this room, amazing you with his tenacity, his will.
“Hey, you on your own tonight?” You casually knock on the door frame, and then pull it shut behind you, cocking your head.
“Aye.” He’s sullen, his despair tugging you closer to the bed, an urge to try to comfort him too strong to deny.
“How are you feeling?” You try the subtle question, hoping he'll be forthcoming, and you keep yourself composed as you wait for his answer.
“’m alright.” You tab through his chart, glancing it over once more, if only to assuage your own anxieties, and then tap into his vitals. Everything looks good, last labs look great… so what’s going on?
“Just alright?” His fingers flex in the blanket, tanned skin against white linen, picking at fibers and threads, unable to hold himself still. He looks like he’s going to burst open at the seams, explode inside this room, a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the end of the countdown.
A tear tracks down his cheek. “Johnny?” You step closer, close enough so your fingers graze his, trying to delicately let him know, you’re here. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. What’s going on?” The monitor beeps steadily in the silence, his chest depresses with a gust of air.
“It’s… it’s nothin’ bun. I’m jus’… I’m havin’ a bad day.”
“Want to talk about it? I hear I’m a pretty good listener.” You encourage, and his face twists.
“No, I- Ach. Aye, alright.” He shifts in the bed, and you hover in case he needs help, but he waves you away. “It’s… bein’ in here. I want to be wi’ my family. Penny turned one, before I left for this assignment. Was only supposed to be two weeks tops, but then it turned into a month, then two. And now, I’m home… but ’m not really home, and I-“ His voice cracks, raw thread of agonized emotion separating his words, and he swallows it, forcing it back. “I’m blown to bits and cannae even see my own daughter. I’m missin’ out on everything.” Oh, Johnny. Your heart is heavy, and it hurts for him, bleeds as he wipes his face.
“You’re not blown to bits, just a little banged up.” You give him a soft smile, and when he shakes his head, your fingers find his on instinct. You don’t even stop to second guess yourself, fully sinking into the contact with a gentle squeeze. “Hey, look at me.” His lashes are wet, sticky with tears, and he sniffles. “You’re making great progress, Johnny, going to be out of here in no time. You won’t even be in the ICU much longer, and then once you’re downstairs, Penny will be able to come visit all the time. After that, it won’t be too much longer until you’re back home with them.” He nods, and you stroke your thumb across his knuckles.
“Ye think so?”
“You’re the toughest patient I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a fair amount, you know. Traumatic injury recovery takes time, it takes patience, but you’re doing a great job of it so far. You just have to take it one day at a time. Before you know it, you’ll be at home on your own couch, bossin’ Simon around all day instead of me.” He laughs at that, a throaty chuckle capable of spreading heady warmth through your veins, and then gives you one of those stupidly stunning smiles.
“Shouldnae be cryin’ in front of ye.”
“You can cry in front of me any time you want. That’s what I’m here for. Besides, it’s not the first time.” You tease and he rolls his eyes.
“Doesnae count. I was high.”
“Uh huh. Sure.” The untouched dinner tray on his side table catches your eye, and chilling worry reappears in the back of your mind. “You didn’t eat?”
“Didnae have an appetite until ye showed up, pretty girl.” Okay. You can remedy this easily, if he's interested in eating. Lack of appetite is alarming, but if you can get him to eat now...
“You hungry? I haven’t eaten yet. Want me to grab you something?” He brightens, indulging in a spectacular smile, and you take it as a yes with a small laugh. “Alright. Let me run down to the café, yeah?”
“What’s that saying, about how I hate to see ye go, but love to watch ye leav-“
“Okay!” you practically shout, cutting him off, fire racing across your skin, and he snickers, palm pressing against his heart like he’s wounded. “I’ll be right back.” You give him a serious look, and and he rubs his palm through his hair, mirth sparkling in his eyes. Holy hell. How is he so attractive? And how is it still so blinding, every time?
You get two of the only option left this late in the evening, chicken soup and some sourdough, balancing the bowls carefully on their trays until you’re placing them down in the room, swinging the little table over Johnny’s lap and settling in beside him, perched on Simon’s recliner. The soup is warm, spiced with herbs and thick with noodles, and you're pleased that it's better than you were expecting, happy that Johnny seems to like it as well.
"Wanted to take ye out properly for our first date, but this will have ta’ do. Simon’s gon’ be so bloody jealous.” He masterfully hums between your bites, and your eyes go wide, trying and failing to swallow your soup instead of choking on it.
“Johnny, we… this… I- this isn’t a date!” you squeak.
“Why not?” He asks, inflection innocent, and your brain rattles around inside your skull, splitting down the middle, falling apart in bewilderment. Why not? What does he mean?
“You… you have a partner. Simon? You know, your family that we were literally just talking about?” He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with this look on his face, one you can’t interpret. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“What did Simon tell ye, the other night. When he took ye home?”
“What? He… I don’t remember.” Does he know that Simon gave you his phone number?
Of course, he knows, he started that group text.
Does Simon know what Johnny said, about you coming into their lives? About-
“Didnae he tell ye, we’re here for ye?”
“Y-yeah.”
“We, bunny? We.”
“I don’t… I don’t understand.” He sighs. What is he trying to say? What is going on?
“We like ye. Like I said, we think ye’re really special. Simon, and I. Together, bun.”
“Wh-what?” Puzzle pieces snap together and then break apart, like a landscape jigsaw that you spent days completing once before it was promptly ruined. Does he... does he mean... Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. You have to squash this. Now. Just explain it, he’ll get it. He’s smart. “No… no, Johnny it’s just… it’s this thing, that happens. Patients get attached to their nurses or doctors sometimes, it’s normal. You d-don’t like me, I promise. There’s nothing even to like.” He blinks, jaw grinding under stubble. If Simon’s stare feels like he’s reading your mind, then Johnny’s is like being pinned down in one place, unable to move. You’re paralyzed, and powerless, lost in the icy blue sea of his eyes, drowning with a hand sticking out above the crest of the surf, reaching for him.
“Why would ye say that? That there’s nothin’ about ye to like? Nothin’ could be farther from the truth.”
“I don’t… there’s not. It’s… I’m your nurse, Johnny. That’s all.” Sweat glosses the small of your back, slicking upwards to cover your spine, and your heart hammers, it beats, beats, beats- so loudly you’re sure the pulse point in your wrist is visible. “Johnny.” His name shakes from your lips, and he relaxes, gentle concern replacing the relentless intensity in his gaze.
“Shhh, hey. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didnae mean to upset ye.” You're still frozen, a statue, and he reaches for you, trying to grab onto your hand. The heat of his skin breaks you from the spell, and you force a robotic, bedside smile onto your face, scooping up your half empty bowl.
"It's okay." You need to get out of this room. Now. The walls feel too close, Johnny feels too close, everything is compounding on top of you, threatening to derail your entire life, ruin your plan. They cannot like you. They cannot care about you. They cannot show interest in you. You can’t let this happen. “I’ve gotta check on some other patients, okay? I’ll swing back your way in a bit.” You promise him, guilt eating you alive about running away, and when he gives you a sad smile, you almost lose your resolve.
“Alright, pretty girl. I’ll see ye later, then.” He murmurs, and you try not to trip over feet during your hasty exit.
Fuck. You’re so fucked.
Simon and Johnny’s house is finally silent.
Penny is down, safely tucked into dream world, her grainy grey-scale image flickering on the video monitor at Simon as he pours two fingers worth of bourbon into a glass.
Poor baby girl. His stomach twists. She put up such a fight tonight, hollering at the top of her lungs, standing up in her crib, working herself into an absolute state. He hates leaving her alone to cry, and on nights like this one, the only way she’ll close her eyes is if she’s being held, snuggled in Johnny's arms, or against Simon's chest.
He’s a sucker, he knows. Doomed from the day she was born, but he can’t help it. Neither of them can. She’s their baby.
So, he doesn’t blame her for being so out of sorts. She always sleeps better when her Da is home. They both do.
His phone vibrates with a text, a short message from Johnny, and he scrolls through it, settling on the couch with his laptop, unopened email from Laswell blinking impatiently.
>She’s jumpy. Tired. Looks like she hasn’t gotten any sleep. Simon frowns.
> She manage to find a pair of panties for work today?
>Unfortunately. He can practically see the pout on Johnny’s lips, can hear the way he probably huffed and puffed when you first came into the room this evening, your hips swishing side to side, pretty smile on your face for him.
>I think I made her upset. Simon pinches the bridge of his nose. Johnny, love. Why can’t you listen? He takes a deep breath, trying to relax the worry that’s creeping up the back of his neck.
Disagreements aren’t for text messages. They’ve learned that the hard way.
>Take it easy for the rest of the night, then. She’s skittish. He shoots off the recommendation, and then pulls his laptop across his knee, clicking open the email from Kate.
Simon,
Your girl is a ghost. This kind of wipe work is professional level… are you sure she’s a nurse?
I’ve attached everything I could find, but it’s pretty scarce. The name you provided pulled a copy of her NHS nursing license, her taxes, an award she won at work last year, and a COVID vaccination record. No birth certificate, state identification, or public records of any kind, even after a global hand search. Nothing that even proves she exists or is an American except a sealed record from years ago in the states. It’s not accessible, even for me, which means it could be WITSEC, or a court ordered name change in relation to a domestic violence case. There are 18 states that seal those records to protect the victim, so she could be from anywhere. My gut says it’s probably the latter, which is why she doesn’t exist prior to.
You’ll notice on the vaccine record, she marked ‘unhoused’, and I couldn’t find any lease/rental agreements, sale records, or mortgages in her name.
I wish I had more for you, but she really is a bit of a puzzle. I’ll keep digging.
-K.L.
There’s an unsettling rattle going off in the front of Simon’s skull. It’s a siren, a smattering of warning bells, and he swallows the rest of the bourbon in one go, embracing the burn that slides down the back of his throat.
Who are you, little bunny? And who are you running from?
#peaches writes#simple math#ghoap x reader#ghost x soap x reader#john soap mactavish#simon riley#simon riley x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#ghost x reader x soap#soap x reader#ghost x reader#soap x reader x ghost
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Tips for wring amputees: its ok if your amputee can't repair their own prosthetics
There's a trope in fiction for amputees to always be these mechanical geniuses who can make and repair their own prosthetics, endlessly tinkering away and improving them. This isn't a particularly trope, and i dont think its harmful or anything, but in reality, prosthetics are REALLY, REALLY complicated, and a lot of amputees cant do their own repairs. And thats ok. Like, prosthetic creation and repair is way, way harder than I think people expect. Well outside the skillset of your standard mechanic, handy man or craftsperson.
People who make and repair prosthetics are called prosthetists. To become a prosthetist, most countries around the world today require you to have completed a bachelor's degree in specifically in prosthetics and orthotics, which covers not only how to make a prosthetics (and orthodics) but a great deal of medical knowledge, physics, how different forces impact "non-standard" bodies, the additional biological wear-and-tear that comes with being an amputee and so much more. This will qualify you to do the job of fitting/making the prosthetic socket (the part that attaches to your body) and putting premade components together to make a functioning device. On top of this, many prosthetists are also expected to have artistic skills, sewing skills, good physical strength and dexterity, IT skills, and more recently, knowledge of 3D modelling and printing.
You want to make all the high-tech components the prosthetists put together to make the full prosthetic? The requirements for that vary country to country, but most will require at least some level study in the field of engineering and/or medicine, on top of what was already required for the prosthetics course.
The reason for all this is because even "basic" prosthetics are extremely finicky, and messing up one thing will have a domino effect on the rest of the body, especially in more complicated prosthetics. It can also result in people getting severally injured if anything is even slightly off. many leg amputees for example end up with spinal issues due to extremely minor issues with their prosthetic that weren't caught until years later, and by then the damage had been done.
Some amputees do learn to do basic repairs. This is most common in places like the US, where a visit to the prosthetist can cost hundred to thousands of dollars (depending on your insurance), but it's also quite common in rural parts of countries like Australia, where cost isn't an issue but access is due to vast distances between major cities. I was personally in this category; as a kid, my nearest prosthetist was 6 hours away. My prosthetist was able to teach my dad, who later taught me, how to do some of the simple repairs, but we still needed to go in every few weeks for the more complex stuff (Kids prosthetic need more adjusting than adults because they're still growing. Also I was rough on my prosthetics and broke them a lot lol).
But even after being taught how to do repairs and having my prosthetics for 20+ years, I only ever did these sorts of repairs to my below-knee prosthetic. I will not do any repairs of any kind to my above knee leg, which is much more technologically complex. Every time I tried, I made it worse to the point where the leg was unusable. I just leave those repairs to the guy who went to university to learn how to do it, and sometimes even he needs to send it off to someone with even more specialist knowledge when it's really badly messed up lol. Last time that happened Australia post lost the package. Not really relevant to this post, I just find the idea of it being sent to the wrong place by accident hilarious, it was one of my more realistic legs too so someone probably had a heart attack when they opened that package lmao.
Anyway, back on track lol.
This isn't even touching on the fact that on some more advanced prosthetics, many features are actually locked behind a security barrier only prosthetists can access. My prosthetic knee has an app on my phone I can pair it to, that allows me to change certain settings and swap between certain modes for different activities that tell the leg to change its behaviour depending on what I'm doing (e.g. a mode for running, a mode for cycling etc). but most of the more in-depth settings I can't access, only my prosthetist can, and he can only gain access to those settings with a security key given to him by the manufacturing company that requires him to provide proof of his credentials to receive it. I don't really agree with this btw, something about being locked out of my own leg's settings makes me feel a bit of an ick, but it's set up like this because people used to be able to access these settings and they would mess with things to the point their leg was virtually unusable. Because altering one setting had a domino effect on all the others, and a lot of folks weren't really paying attention to what they were messing with, all their prosthetists could do was factory reset the whole leg, which causes some issues too. Prosthetic arms are often similarly complex, as I understand it and have similar security barriers in place for more advanced arms. I don't know for sure though, so take that with a grain of salt.
All this to say these are incredibly delicate, finicky and complex pieces of equipment. There's nothing wrong with having a techy amputee character who can do their own repairs, but in reality, that is pretty rare, and its ok to have your character need to see a prosthetist or someone more knowledgeable than them. It's a part of the amputee experience I don't see reflected very often in media. In fact, the only examples I can think of in fiction (meaning not stories based on real people) where this is reflected are Full metal alchemist.
technically I think Subnautica Below Zero also mentions prosthetists are a thing in that world, but its a very "blink and you'll miss it" kind of thing...in fact I did miss it until my last playthrough lol.
#Writing Disability with Cy Cyborg#long post#id in alt text#amputee#writing disability#disability#disabilities#disabled#actually disabled#writing advice#writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#disability representation#authors of tumblr#prosthetics#disability aids#mobility aids#amputee life#amputee problems#full metal alchemist#automail#amputee representation
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where to start
introduction:
self-improvement looks very simple on paper. eat better, workout, have a skin care and hair care routine. lower your screentime, study, be organized, have hobbies. but trust me i know how difficult it is to actually DO the things you talk about doing. how hard it is to even know where to start, and how to stay consistent. roadblocks also happen, things out of your control. but ultimately you can make change in your life, just little by little.
planning:
during this stage you need to think of what you want to accomplish and creating an action plan full of steps that can get you there. i've provided my own example too :)
prioritize your physical and mental health. when those things are improving then pretty much everything else in your life will start to follow. just look at yourself now and think 'what can i do better? how can i be happier & healthier?'
write down your goals.
create an action plan for each goal. what steps can you take to achieve this goal? make a step by step plan.
come up with things you can do everyday to reach that goal. what adjustments can you make in your everyday routine that'll help you get there? for example, i want to make an etsy shop so i sew for 20+ minutes a day on weekends, and sew 30 minutes on weekdays.
excecuting:
the most important part is slowly easing into your new habits. look at your goals and think 'what steps am i taking to reach it?'
meeting your basic needs. before you even think about self improvement make sure you're taking care of your health and hygeine. this means eating enough, being hydrated, taking care of your hygeine. always make sure that your core needsre met consistently before you even begin.
start small. once you've gotten consistent with meeting your basic needs then start making small changes. (ex. exercising for 10 minutes, reading for 10 minutes, start small with the habits you planned) dont overwhelm yourself!
have a fluid plan. be open to change- if something really isn't working then adjust it! and, when you continue to do something for a while, start doing it longer- i used to walk around 1.5 miles daily for almost a month and then started doing 2.5. keep increasing until you're at a healthy point.
having a good mindset. as always make sure your mindset is good. remember that progress isn't linear- you're going to screw up sometimes and get off track. just make sure you learn from every experience.
conclusion:
no matter what there ARE going to be problems or things that don't go your way, things that aren't in your control. since my 15th birthday i've been applying to jobs left and right, over 30 or so, and it's been 5 months of rejection due to my age (15 year olds can only work 3 hours in a row and most places need more). since i can't control that i just keep applying and in the mean time i focus on the other aspects of my life! it can be really frustrating but you just have to keep pushing.
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my doll, my princess ୨ৎ
megumi roughly fucking his princess :3 ୨ৎ
⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ MY DOLL, MY PRINCESS
⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ---> aged up (20+) characters, emo x bimbo, creampie, p in v, rough sex, praising, pet names (baby, princess), light begging, oral sex [m receiving], squirting, dom/sub undertones, breeding kink, possessiveness, talks of recording, black reader :3 but anyone can read
megumi can’t help it. the way your naturally full lips turn into a pout whenever he says something you don’t want to hear. the way your acrylic nails scratch over his arm (or sometimes his scalp whenever he’s feeling extra vulnerable). the way you’d say ‘gumi’ with a huff as you try to defend yourself from his teasing. you look so innocent but in reality you’re his slutty girl.
no one ever said being a sorcerer would be easy, hell, if anything he got told everyday that it’s hard. but as he aged and grew into an adult, he found balancing a normal life and being a sorcerer impossible. he would come home at inconsistent hours in the morning, just to go back to work a few hours later. it was genuinely becoming a job instead of a passion.
it felt like he was already tensed and pent up. he tried working out for extensive hours, didn’t work. he tried sparring with yuji, didn’t work. he even reluctantly went to get a massage with nabora, still didn’t work. he was beginning to accept that this was his life now. he now understood why nanami walked around with a permanent frown.
that was all until he discovered you. he had exited the local cafe after ordering himself a iced white mocha frappe. he had just got done with an intense session in the gym and felt like he earned himself a sweet treat. he was walking towards his car that was parked in the parking lot until he heard a feminine voice squeak out, ‘sir!’. he turned around and that’s when his eyes landed on a brown skinned woman. her entire outfit was decked out in pink, there were cute little bows in her hair, and her outfit was a mini skirt with a cropped shirt. she was absolutely adorable.
“yes?” megumi asks with a confused expression on his face.
her heel boots clacked against the concrete as she made her way towards him. megumi realized that she’s actually even more breathtaking up close. the way her head had to turn up to make eye contact with him made his dick stir with curiosity.
“uhm, so, i noticed you from where i sat in the cafe.. and i think you’re really handsome and i wanted to know if i could get your number.” megumi’s eyes shifted from confusion to shock, he had never been approached so boldly before. he found himself enjoying the boldness.
“i-i.. sure?” he responded. this was so abrupt that he didn’t have time to seem confident. suddenly, he remembered he’s all sweaty and possibly flushed still. he should’ve taken a shower at the gym instead of waiting to get home.
a smile adorned her pretty face. great, she’s even prettier when she smiles. megumi felt like he was going to faint.
“gumi, am i not making you feel good?” your voice knocks him out of his thoughts. his eyes glance down to where you are. you’re seated in between his legs with drool dripping down your face. you hold his dick in your hand casually as if it was a natural thing to do. there’s a pout on your face as you look up at him for reassurance.
“you are, baby. you’re making me feel so fucking good.” he leans up a little so that he could cradle your cheek with one hand, “i’m sorry, i just got lost in my thoughts for a second.” he coos as he replaces your hand on his dick with his own. he guides your head back onto it and like the good girl you are you open your mouth and welcome his dick back into your mouth.
he uses two hands to guide your head back and forth. the sound and feeling of you gagging as you try to deepthroat makes megumi’s eyes roll back. he uses your head as if it’s a fleshlight. his hips occasionally buck to meet your mouth, no matter how many times he tries to suppress doing so.
your hands rest on his thighs as you squeeze your eyes closed. stray tears escape from your eyes, no matter how many times you try to blink them back.
megumi still could not believe he has gotten his hands on something so delicate. that little innocent facade you like to put on towards strangers. megumi had fell for it until you practically begged him to let you ride his cock. he still remembers how tears and drool leaked out as you bounced your way into becoming dick dumb.
“my little cockslut.” he coos at you. when you moan out from his words, it sends a vibration up his cock causing his toes to curl. “fuck- i wanna cum inside your tight pussy, baby. c’mere.” he slowly removes his cock from your mouth, he bites down on his lip while he watches you smear your own drool and his precum on your gorgeous face. “my nasty girl.” he says as he pulls you up and onto his lap.
you let out a breathy gasp when you feel the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit, it’s almost embarrassing how fast your hips begin to buck. megumi would usually tease your clit some more but he had already denied himself once when you were sucking his cock. he was feeling way too sensitive to tease you.
“gumiiiiii.” you whined as he slowly began entering you. your pussy immediately began clenching around his length as he made slow work of bottoming out inside of you. “haaaa! gumi your cock is so big!” you always knew how to stroke his ego.
“shh, princess. you’re gonna take my cock like you always do. be my good girl.” he says as he softly thrusts his hips up.
being the pillow princess you are, of course you’re gonna ride with your knees instead of planting your feet. you press your chest that was poorly covered with a size too small bikini top against his as you begin meeting his thrusts. he doesn’t waste any time getting rougher with you. his hands grab the fat of your ass cheeks as he plumpets into you.
“shit!” you gasp as your eyes roll back.
“watch your mouth.” he threatens.
you lower your head and begin placing sloppy kisses on his jaw as an apology. your acrylic nails press into his shoulder blades as you try to take everything he’s giving you without complaint. the sound of your wet pussy making noise every time he slams back into you is enduring.
“i should record you, let everyone see how my little innocent girl is actually a slut.” he pumps faster into you. you couldn’t keep up with his inhumane speed, you were practically forced to just stay there and take it. “wouldn’t do that though. you and this pussy belongs to me, no one deserves to see it.” he growls out. the feeling of his grasp tightening on your ass cheeks makes you groan.
“yes, gumi! i’m yours, only yours! no one else's!” you scream out once you feel your stomach flutter. megumi knowing you like the back of his hand, lets go of your ass cheek and instead starts rubbing at your clit.
“cum for me, baby.” he coaxes. he rubs with an almost painful speed. your breathing gets caught in your chest as you try to warn him that you’re coming. your poor pussy squirts around his cock. the fluid streaming out like a jet.
megumi moans shamelessly at the sight and feeling. his toes curl as he suddenly leans up and bites into your shoulder. his cock twitches as his sensitive tip begins spurting out his cum right into your pussy.
“gonna make you a fucking mother. have you so full and round with my seed.you want that? hm, baby? you wanna walk around with my claim on you?” he babbles drunkenly.
“yes, gumi! please make me a mother! please!” you agree in the heat of the moment. the two of you continue talking dumbly to each other until megumi finally stop orgasming. he pulls out and his cum immediately drips down onto his thigh.
“fuck, princess.” he mumbles before pulling you into a kiss. “what do you say for me cumming in you?” he asks once he pulls away.
“thank you, gumi.” you reply with a bright smile. fuck, you’re so pretty.
#pwinkprincess ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა#₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ#gumi ᡣ𐭩 ୨୧ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶#jjk ! ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა#˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk x black reader#megumi x you#jjk megumi#megumi x reader#jujutsu kaisen megumi#megumi fushiguro#megumi smut#jjk x black y/n#jjk x black!fem reader
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ღ𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟!𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 ღ
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐
18+ONLY MDNI
kizzatober series: Thrilling Ghouls
Kinktober Prompts: Breeding, Dacryphilia, Aphrodisiac
Synopsis: Catching him in a lie, you suspect your boyfriend Toji is cheating on you. Where does he keep disappearing to once a month that keeps him away for often days at a time. You're fed up. You've made up your mind this time to follow him but are you ready for what you discover?
CW: AU. Most warnings for P2 really. Slightly dubcon-y. Bully/mean/teasing Toji. Bratty/crazy gf reader. Rough sex. Drug ref. Werewolf transformation but this isn't that furry shit lol. Omegaverse themes I borrow heavily from but I'm not following the rules of it faithfully (I don't even know them myself lol)
WC: 4k of 10.4k
Lightly black fem coded but no descriptors.
A/N: This one took a bit longer expected as I recently caught a cold, boooo! But I'm realizing even in my fics I intend to be PWPs I still need to set the mood and a plot springs forth lmfao. Plus I had fun actually trying to write a bit of horror in too! I decided to split into 2 parts because of the delay already.
Big shout out to an irl bestie @sairotonin for drawing a sketch of Werewolf!Toji for her inktober for me to use in my gfx. TY sis you a real one!!
Enjoy!
“In the next 500ft, turn left.”
This was going to be the third goddamn left the car navigation told you to take in the last 20 minutes. You were ninety-nine percent sure you had been going in circles and were now lost as shit at night in the middle of nowhere.
You glance at your phone sitting in the dash-caddy.
One measly bar.
The further you traveled, the more the service bars were dwindling as well.
Shit, you had 3 full bars last time you looked.
Opting to keep ahead straight instead of turning, you cross-check your destination via the spy monitoring app you had shamelessly downloaded on your boyfriend Toji’s phone.
Toji’s current location was 45 miles outside of the city and it had been a good 10 miles since you last saw any kind of highway. The area you were in was a mix between nature reserve and private property so not even GPS could pin down the exact directions to his whereabouts.
Sigh.
You had never wanted to be That Girl™.
You know, the ones who would sneak peaks at their boyfriend’s phones, were super insecure about any interaction their man had with the opposite sex and ran down on them while they were out to catch them in the act of cheating.
But you were a woman at the end of her rope.
What else could you do?
For a few days every month Toji would simply disappear.
The various excuses he gave usually centered around his work. You didn’t know exactly what he did, but you knew enough to know most of it was dangerous and wasn’t what good society would consider legal.
Toji had scolded you before for asking too many details.
For your own safety.
He would say with an arrogant smirk.
But even when working you had always been able to get a hold of him after a few hours. It was just this one particular job he would completely drop off the face of the earth for. It annoyed you, sure, but Toij’s work never followed him home so you didn't have complaints.
That is, until you had finally moved-in with him and Megumi.
Truly, you were already like a little family.
Megumi, who had just recently started preschool, had been quick to warm up to you ever since you and Toji first introduced you to him a few months prior to that.
But living together pushed things to a whole other level. Megumi would follow you around like a lost pup and often opted to sit in your lap rather than Toji’s.
Not to mention throw a near fit if you weren’t the one to tuck him in goodnight. (Toji would never admit he was a bit jealous and would only grumble slightly that it was less of a hassle for him if you did it so you should just do it from now on).
You never even realized you had such a mothering instinct, being on the same page as Toji about no more kids, until you looked into those little emerald eyes of Gumi’s and absolutely melted.
You had grown so close that the little boy unknowingly let it slip once while Toji was MIA on that job, that he was glad Daddy went on his daddy breaks once a month so you both could have fun together by yourselves.
You tried to keep your reactions in check for Megumi but that revelation completely shook you.
A “daddy break” didn’t sound much like a work trip to you which spiked your anxiety and caused you to spiral into overthinking.
Did he need a break from you too as well?
You couldn't very well grill a 4-year old and you didn’t have the nerve to just ask Toji straight out.
So you did the only thing you could think of at the time and that was to complain to your good friend Tsukumo over drinks a few days later after Toji returned.
Tsukumo, who always seemed to have the wrong answer for everything, simply told you to do the ‘smart’ thing and download a monitoring app on his phone that would log is calls, texts and whereabouts.
You initially balked at her.
Tracking Toji had never crossed your mind.
Outside of this, Toji had never given you a reason to doubt him and you wanted to respect his privacy and trust, especially trust as you knew he didn’t let many people get close to him at all.
True, he wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming man you ever dated. You were well aware he had his many skeletons as well as ex-hookups. But Toji for the most part had been content with his gambling then coming home to you and Megumi.
He wasn’t the type to ‘run the streets with the boys (he had no boys tbh), you had only ever known him to have the occasional drink with Shiu when he wasn’t out gambling.
You had almost refused to do such a thing… That is until Tsukumo posed the question:
What’s more important Y/N– your peace of mind or his trust?
And Y/N, is trust really what’s important here at all if he is in fact already taking advantage of yours?
Touché.
Tsukumo had you there.
“Besides, you think that old dinosaur is even going to notice an extra app on his phone in the first place?”
Tsukumo quipped, throwing back a shot of sake and jiggling the empty container at the bartender for more.
“You just got rid of his old flip phone last year. I’m surprised he can even use a touchscreen without punching a hole through it. Just delete the app once you’ve seen what you needed to see.”
Tsukumo gave you this advice like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Ignoring her digs at Toji’s age, and maybe it was the 3 bottles of sake the both of you had blown through in the last hour, but you were starting to think she might be onto something.
“Mmm, on second thought, might as well keep it on there. Men like Fushiguro are dogs that need to be kept on tight leashes.”
Tsukumo grinned at you with a wink before turning her attention back to the bartender.
You still didn’t know then if you would actually go through with it.
Nevertheless, here you are now at 11:15 PM at night about to pull up on your boyfriend thanks to Tsukumo’s advice to find out once and for all if Toji was cheating on you.
You had dropped Megumi off at his best friend Yuji’s for the night, thanking Yuji’s parents for watching him and feeling guilty for lying to them that you and Toji had a date night.
Almost there.
You are within 2 miles of arriving at the vicinity of where the monitoring app says Toji is.
However, your anxieties were getting the best of you as you drove in near tears.
You turn up your music louder, the booming bass distracting you from how much darker and creepier it gets the further you drive into the wooded area.
Sighing again, you had no idea how this would turn out but you knew the result would determine whether you would be listening to Positions by Ariana Grande or Playing Games by Summer Walker on repeat during the drive back.
☠
Barely a half mile later, you see the engine light of your car flash. The pungent odor of burning oil fills the car as a plume of smoke escapes out from under the hood.
Goddamn it, Toji.
“Y/N, make sure to go get ‘er an oil change while I’m gone. Ya got like 15 good miles left on ‘er.” Toji’s voice rang in your mind.
Well the big lunk he was wrong.
You had driven at least 33 miles so far.
You mentally cussed him again.
Toji was the one who was supposed to change your oil, he used your car more than you did. Only opting to use his own blacked out unplated and unlicensed car for jobs like he was on now.
You wouldn’t have even left the house if it wasn’t for his sketchy cheating headass.
Okay, so you hadn’t exactly confirmed that just yet, but you were pissed and until you confirmed otherwise, right now he was a cheater and everything about this situation was his fault.
Pulling over to the side of the dirt road before you caused further damage to your car, you weighed your options.
Option 1: Call AAA
You had zero bars though.
Fuck.
Option 2: Wait here in the safety of the car until morning.
You would still have zero bars and you might miss Toji, making this whole trip fruitless.
If he beat you home in the morning and found you gone with Megumi at Yuji’s with the sad excuse for a 'date night' lie you gave, you would never hear the end of it.
He would taunt you into oblivion that your silly ass drove all the way up here unto the woods for your car to break down cause you were too busy being a psycho bitch to remember to get an oil change.
Option 3: Walk on foot the rest of the way to Toji.
Really the only viable option you had.
It was a good 12 miles or so back to the highway, you didn’t know how many turns you had made since then and you doubt you could make it back on foot anyway. If you were going to walk a few miles to get service again you might as well walk to where Toji was.
Sure if he wasn’t cheating you would still get ridiculed, but at least you could get a ride home.
And if he was cheating, you would hot wire his car (one of the few useful things he did teach you) and that motherfucker and his whore could find their own way home.
Resolving yourself to walk, you put on Toji's hoodie that fortunately was still in the backseat from him last using your car to go to the gym.
You really should have put more thought into planning this before you left. Besides Toji’s oversized worn hoodie that reached your mid-thighs all you were wearing was a thin white shirt and black spandex shorts.
You didn’t even have sneakers or boots, as you looked down at your fuzzy black slippers you mostly only wore outside to run short errands like dropping off Megumi at preschool or picking up groceries.
Thankfully, you did have a small flashlight in the glove compartment though in case of emergencies like this.
Flashlight in tow, you step outside of your stalled car and immediately suck in a worried breath as the weight of the chilly night settles over you like a heavy cloak.
You only have a mile and a half trek but the dirt road that stretches out before you looks endless as it disappears into the obscurity of the thick shroud of fog surrounding you.
The flashlight doesn’t do much to cut through the intense density of condensation. You had only made it a mere 20 feet from your car but you can just barely make out its faint outline.
Swallowing, you put on your bravest face and fix your gaze forward.
The reflections of your flashlight casts shifty patterns on the mist in your peripheral vision and you do your best to ignore the chill that creeps up your shoulders.
“Fuck you, Toji.”
You mumble half-heartedly, pulling the hood over head.
You didn’t really mean it though. Would-be-cheater or not more than anything you wished he was here with you now.
You were freezing, tired and all you could think about was how warm and safe you would feel in Toji’s arms. Even if you were mad at him.
You pick up the pace, wanting to get to him sooner.
Almost more unnerving than the fog itself, the forest around you is as quiet as a grave.
There are no chirps of crickets, nor hoots of owls.
Not even in the crisp cold of fall does the wind rustle through the trees, everything is silent.
The haunting nature around you seems to hold its breath as if it knows you're an unwelcome intruder who has trespassed too far.
You don’t dare peer into the trees which look taller in the darkness, closing in tightly on the dirt road. They are ghastly silhouettes of their former selves blocking any moonlight to help guide your way.
You shiver as you feel as if you are being watched from a distance.
The only noise you hear is the soft crunching of rocks and leaves beneath your feet with every unsure step you take forward.
You can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread as a stray tear runs down your cheek.
You couldn’t get to Toji soon enough.
Though you still didn’t have any service the GPS updated as much as it could in roaming, you were so close.
As you continue forward a shadow on the path catches your eye in the foggy distance.
Your heart quickens as you inch closer, your anticipation mingling with fear.
Shapes soon begin to take form and the harsh reality dawns upon you.
A pack of wolves.
Their shadowy figures coalesce before you through the fog as they take stock of you.
You start to feel queasy as you see their red-stained muzzles dripping with the blood of their latest kill. The grotesque carcass of a deer practically stripped to the bone lay lifeless under their enormous paws.
Their eyes, fierce and predatory, meet yours with a chilling intensity as the feeble beam of your flashlight washes over them. The deer, although large, you know is not enough to quell hunger from beasts of their size.
With a shaky breath you slowly retreat, not wanting to further agitate their already aggravated predatory senses.
Then you hear it.
From what seems to be the darkest reaches of the night, a sound reverberates from the trees, through the forest and beyond that's unlike anything you've ever heard before.
The howl that tears through the stillness is so chilling you instantly feel the lamentation that carries the weight of centuries of primal power down in the very marrow of your bones.
Even the wolves snap their heads to attention and bow their heads as if the sound announced the presence of a creature much higher on the food chain... something more ancient and malevolent…
...something terrifyingly unhuman.
The body racking shiver you experience is so intense it has you sprinting at full speed before your mind, frozen from fear, can even process you are moving.
You burst through the dense trees, leaving the road as your heart pounds like a drum in your chest and tears stream freely down your cheeks to soak the edge of Toji’s sweatshirt.
The tangled underbrush of the forest whips the soft skin of your legs and the forest itself seems to conspire against you as you navigate the obstacle course of branches, logs and large rocks all seemingly with a mission to slow you down.
You can hear the chilling howls of the wolves you saw on the road call out behind you, giving chase.
The sounds of their footfalls grow closer with every passing second.
Terrifying as they are, they hold no candle against the howl that sent you running and your body continues to propel you forward.
Panic frazzles your senses and you make the tragic error of trying to steal a glance back behind you before directly colliding with a large cedar.
Groaning from the impact you reel as you try to gather yourself, clinging to the tree for support.
You hear a twig snap behind you and you whirl around as you are faced with a largest gray wolf out of the pack who had been chasing you.
The alpha wolf’s teeth glint menacingly as their breath escapes in visible puffs in the frigid night air.
Too late to try to make a run for it again, you whimper as you resign yourself to your fate. You slid down the large tree to bury your face in your knees.
Was this it?
Was this how you died?
You weren’t even able to see Toji after coming all this way.
You also wanted to be able to hug Megumi one last time and maybe knock the daylights out of Tsukumo for her horrible ass idea.
But ultimately this was all your fault.
You could be snuggled up with Gumi on the sofa with snacks watching Anpanman but your dumbass had to go galavanting off into the middle of the woods like a fucking lunatic and now you’re about to be eaten by a wolf.
You could feel the wolf’s overbearing presence as it approached you but you couldn’t bear to look up. You’d rather spend your final moments thinking of Toji and Megumi.
Yet despite your impending doom, your head did snap up once you felt a rough tongue gently lick your ankles and curiously sniff at the ends of Toji's hoodie covering your legs.
The wolf was more than intimidating up close as its giant muzzle was the size of your entire head.
However the wolf regarded you cautiously like it almost recognized you before releasing its own chillingly deep howl and promptly running off.
Wait– T-The hell?!
You sat there at the trunk of the tree trying to process the interaction that just took place but you didn’t have much time to ponder as you heard something else approaching you rapidly.
The sound of snapping twigs and heavy, uneven footfalls don’t seem to be that of a wolf, renewing the sensation of dread through your body.
Your heart races in your chest as the ominous sounds of the being looming evermore closer become more pronounced.
From the shadows emerges a monstrous figure.
The fog doesn’t reach this deep into the forest and the moonlight that peeks between the trees glimmers on its enlarged taut muscles.
Its eyes, red, burn like fiery amber.
Fierce and resolute you can see them pierce through the darkness long before you can make out any features of the creature's face.
What you think upon first glance must be a demonic apparition from your worst nightmares ends up being–
Toji?!
As he steps into a beam of moonlight, the transformation before you is complete.
Toji’s once-human and feet hands have become formidable claws with nails like blades, his face remains mostly unchanged with the exception of his mouth which in his snarl reveals rows of gleaming, razor-sharp teeth.
He is still mostly human in appearance but you can tell he stands taller, nearly 8 feet.
The thicker body hair on his forearms bristles with raw power.
He was completely bare save for the tattered jeans barely hanging on his body that had torn from the sheer size of his enormous muscularity in this form.
Each step he takes towards you makes your heart skip a beat yet you stare transfixed, unable to look away and your tears increase.
Was this terrifying otherworldly apparition the boyfriend you had been searching for?
Time stands still in that haunting moment as Toji’s eyes bore into your soul with a predatory intensity.
His hunger and primal instincts radiates off of him like a palpable force.
“T-T-Toji?”
You cautiously inquire through your quiet sobs.
“Y/N?! What the fuck do you think y’er doing out here?”
Toji snarls back at you. His growl seems to cause the very atmosphere to vibrate and the earth beneath you quakes as your body involuntarily quivered with fear.
Toji thought he must have been losing his goddamn mind when he caught onto your scent earlier but here you were like a lost little lamb to the slaughter before him.
He came out onto the woods to be alone, away from civilization and away from you and Megumi during his monthly transformations.
It was safer that way, for all of you.
You had been fortunate the local wolf pack had acknowledged him as their Alpha and recognized his scent on you.
But there were far worse dangers in the forest besides them.
Toji wouldn’t be able to protect you like he was now.
Not with you needing protection from him too.
Protection from him as not only was it a full moon, it was a harvest moon, a mating moon.
The primal urge to rip you apart was only truncated by the more intense carnal urge to mate with you. Toji wanted to claim you as his and fuck you so hard into the girthy cedar behind you the entire tree would topple over by its roots.
He had wanted to claim you as his mate for a while now.
Even moved you in with him and Megumi as the final step but you couldn’t wait for that, could you?
You had managed to track him somehow all the way out here and throw his whole plan into the shitter.
He could barely control himself in this form as it is and now your scent, blubbering cries and the fucking harvest moon were sending him with full force into a fierce rut.
“T-Toji w-what is this!? W-what’s happened to you!? W-what are you doing out here?!”
Worry saturates your voice as you choke out your questions in rapid fire cries not giving him time to even respond.
Toji fights the predatory instinct in him who sees you as his prey and if your gaze wasn’t so focused on trying to read his face for answers you surely would have noticed him fully bricked near bursting out of his worn jeans.
You looked so appetizing.
He needed you.
However, Toji could tell your nerves were completely shot and the slightest twitch of his muscles toward you had you almost jumping out of your skin like a little bunny rabbit.
“Y-Y/N…”
His voice strained itself into a murmur as he attempted to do his best to lull you into some sort of security so he could explain things calmly to you.
Yet the way he was near salivating, drool dripping from his canines as he panted and towered over you did anything but make you feel secure.
You mistook his lust for bloodthirstiness.
“Just calm down. It’s OK.”
Toji needed you to be calm like he needed you to take steadier breaths if he was going to successfully win the tumultuous war he was fighting against his instincts to pounce on you.
There is an oppressive tension between the two of you and he can tell you are also fighting against your fight or flight reflexes.
Good girl.
It would be disastrous if you did something foolish, no telling what might happen then.
But unfortunately for the both of you, your fits of emotion and impulses are what had your crazy ass out here in the first place.
The pressure had officially gotten to you.
Toji’s lies, your car, the woods, the wolves, everything leading up to this point bubbled over because the last thing you wanted to be told right now was to ‘just calm down’.
You snapped.
“Ok? OK?! OKAY?!...TOJI WHAT THE FUCK ABOUT THIS IS O.K. RIGHT NOW!?”
You were practically hysterical as you yelled at him, momentarily forgetting your fears of Toji’s new form.
The trigger of being told to 'calm down' in a situation where you clearly had every right to feel every fucking emotion you wanted won out over everything else.
“MY CAR BROKE DOWN BECAUSE OF YOU DOING GOD KNOWS WHAT WITH WHOEVER THE FUCK OUT HERE, I LITERALLY WAS JUST CHASED BY WOLVES, ALMOST EATEN, AND Y-YOU… Y-YOU-”
A crackling snap came from above you and you realized Toji’s claws had completely ripped a large chunk out of the tree right above your head.
Your tantrum had in turn pushed him over the edge as well.
His irises flared intensely at you as you quivered under his gaze in fear.
He would have you but first, he would play with you a bit.
Things never happened the easy way with you.
Yet, that’s also exactly the way Toji liked it too. That's why he'd put up with you thus far.
A malevolent smirk dons Toji's features as his simple command issues an unsettling tremor running down into the depths of your being.
“Run.”
P2 HERE!
© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ
A/N: Count on Tsukumo to always given the wrong fuckin’ advice. Lmfao! Or was it the right advice in this case? Hmm we will see what happens next!
Smutty goodness in the next part. This part was just to set the horror mood!
I promise this fic isn't as nearly as long as Ghostface!Choso. It's looking to be about 8k total and I have 3.5k of P2 finished lol.
Reblog if you are both submissive and breedable for Werewolf!Toji, but likes and comments are appreciated all the same!
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LMK below if you would like to be tagged in P2.
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#☾﹒✖☠𝘬𝘪𝘻𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳#♋︎kizzatcooks#♋︎kizzatcookedthat#kinktober 2023#kinktober#Toji Fushiguro smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#Toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen#Toji x you#jjk Toji#Toji Fushiguro#Toji smut#Toji x black reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x black reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#werewolf toji#werewolf smut#werewolf x reader#teratophillia#werewolf boyfriend#monster boyfriend#Toji x black!reader
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𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽, 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 | song mingi x fem!reader
an ao3 requested husband!mingi one-shot
"Are you trying to challenge me?"
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : You come home stressed, feeling like the world wants only the worst from you. Good thing that your husband wants the best, right? Right...
"Baby, I would never do such a thing."
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.3k
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, girlboss office worker!reader, stay at home husband!mingi, praise kink, hand kink, size kink, service top!mingi, use of the pet-name “baby”, starts rougher but then gets really soft and gentle, cunnilingus, fingering, over-stimulation, passionate sex; reader and mingi are in their late 20s/early 30s, reader is a bit bratty but mingi is a brat as well, it pains writer mingi is not a sub in this FUCK, he puts reader in place just a tiny bit, but the dynamics are pretty even, reader and mingi love each other deeply
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wanted to make mingi wear a tanktop but when i digged for it THERE WAS NOTHING???? we never got tanktop!mingi selcas???? how do yall not die of hunger, no, THIRST?
anyhow. this was an ao3 request!!! i had lots of loving fun with it and i hope you do as well babes and bbies xoxo
masterlist link | join my taglist
Did you know married employees are respected more?
Well, that’s what statistics say, but you certainly have never had this observation be proven true. It’s been almost a year since the first time you’ve worn your ring at your work-place, but you still get weird looks for having settled down “too early in the relationship” at such a “young age”, as if they knew anything about your private life— so no, you don’t. You wouldn’t know anything about being respected more as a married employee, even if you’re a few working hours away from being promoted to General Manager.
You throw your keys into their respective tray and hold your nose-bridge, when you enter your house with the sound of your shoes immediately falling to the floor after you shake them off in frustration. Yes, you may have earned your money, but at what cost? To hear old people pick you out because “such a fragile thing can’t possibly handle life”, despite being their lead director, have their hairy fingers pointed towards you since “someone like Y/N needs extra checking” despite you never having missed a dead-line, and to be eyed by them while you’re just trying to get your papers— oh, fucking hell; that is, by definition, not respect, that is horror, and one more reason to finally just quit your job and—
“Baby, you’re home!”
You take deep breath.
“Here I am.”
“Allow me,” your husband hums, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his torso close to your back; he’s rubbing himself against you with the excuse that he’s helping you get that fucking bag from your hands, and you let out an exhale once the weight is removed from your grip and lands on the floor. He is masterfully not referring to the fact that you came a full hour later than the initial time you have texted him you would arrive, and rather focusing on the how your shoulders feel more tense than usual, massaging his strong thumbs into them.
“Thank you,” you sigh and lean the back of your head against his breast, for he’s towering over you like a guardian pressing gentle kisses onto your hair, making him one comfortable, cushioned wall. You feel a bit guilty for not having asked how his day went, but for all you know, he’s having a blast arranging his new studio that he wants to use in the future to produce with other music artists, but most importantly, help you earn money.
Your stay-at-home husband, Song Mingi. The man who makes it— the time, the work, the stress— all worth it.
“How do you feel, baby?”, he murmurs, kissing your temple while he’s at it. He brushed his teeth not too long ago, you can smell the remains of mint toothpaste at his lip. Is he being obvious? Yes, maybe. You're not complaining though. “Rough day?”
“Yeah,” you exhale and let yourself be touched by your husband, though it doesn’t make you as calm as it should in your heart. You’re not craving for any soft vicinity here, you want to smash something to the ground and stomp on it; you’ve spend the whole day surrounded by the loudest, noisy, dim-witted idiots who are certainly preying on your downfall if they don’t fucking—
“Tell me all about it, baby,” Mingi murmurs, his vocal chords vibrating against the back of your head, as he rests his chin on top of it. “I’m listening.”
Sometimes you ask yourself whether you would still be receiving the same comments, if your co-workers knew who Mingi was. Not because he’s some famous man to be afraid of, but because he is taller than all of them, has got a louder voice and could knock those douchebags out with his muscly arms— okay, maybe they should be afraid. Very afraid.
“No, it’s okay,” you breathe and turn around to get your arms around your husband’s waist and press your face into his collarbones that you didn’t realize were revealed. "Button up,” you murmur, almost annoyed that you can inhale Mingi’s comforting scent through the cleavage as well as you can. You wanted to stay angry for just a little bit longer, but your husband makes it nearly impossible. Not to say it doesn’t make feel you any less hot though.
“What do you mean?", Mingi pouts, "Is it not good? I showered! Just for you, baby.”
You chuckle and your lips graze his freshly-washed, freshly-lotioned baby-smooth skin. “No… It’s too good…”
Mingi gets his hands into your hair and rubs his finger tips across your scalp.
“What were you stressed about, baby?”, Mingi continues to ask you, applying a bit of pressure to his touch, his hand feeling like it’s ripping off the upper layer of your head in the best way possible.
“My co-workers hate me,” you murmur, teeth gritted. Your breast begins to slightly enflame at the thought of your co-workers’ faces, but your husband doesn’t seem to mind your tone as much, allowing your mind to roam freely.
“Hate you?”
“They, like, hate my existence.”
“What would they hate you for, baby?”, he asks, working his long fingers down to the lower side of your head, reaching for your neck to scratch it. His hand is well big enough to do all of it at the same time.
Preparing to answer his question, you inhale and exhale deeply, smelling the clothing and leaving it warm.
“They hate that… I’m already settled down at my age.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And that I am as confident about it and— and as hard-working as I am…”
Mingi chuckles and strokes your hair one time to get your hair in its right place after having mushed it. His touch expands warmly on your scalp and it spreads like a soothing wave of comfort.
“They hate that,” you inhale, and then —with revelation— exhale, “I’m such a strong, successful woman.”
“There you go. My strong,” Mingi murmurs, and he’s letting his hands glide down your back, “successful,” further down your ass, “wife.” Squeeze.
“Oh,” you chuckle, fully aware that nothing is on your husband’s mind rather than to persuade you to get into bed with him. Cleaning his teeth, showering, putting on fresh clothes— Did he even shave his beard by himself? Wow.
After almost a year of marriage, some clues become very self-explanatory.
His amazing hands work their amazing ways on your ass, and as it goes for Mingi, he always prides himself that he can make you melt under his touch, especially when you come home from work late on days like these.
“You should just let your anger out on them next time,” Mingi smiles, cupping your ass with the big surface of his hand and you can feel how he’s trying to figure out whether he can raise you up like this— spoiler: he can— and continues to encourage you. “Or on me.”
Were you implying your co-workers should be scared of Mingi? Yes, but also no. For someone your size, despite seemingly being ever-so tiny in your husband’s embrace, to make it so big in such a short time is astounding; ground-breaking, even. You may or may not know, but Mingi finds you are one cold-blooded woman whose blood only boils when she’s being provoked, and if there is one thing your husband wants you to prove to your co-workers, it’s that you won’t think twice once you’ve got the title of being their supervisor.
Too harsh? Maybe. But that’s something you can consider when they’re begging you to accept their apologies, no?
“Don’t edge me on, or I might actually turn into the Hulk or something,” you laugh hoarsely and raise your head up to him. Mingi looks down immediately and grins, continuously groping his hands into your butt.
“You can’t scare me,” he lulls and kisses your forehead, “because you’ll always be my little baby, Y/N.”
“Ohh, shut it,” you sneer and can’t deny that Mingi is the only one who can make you feel this small, “I wouldn’t be too sure I can’t scare you.”
“Do try, please,” Mingi insists with a cheeky smirk and gung-ho, you’re raised from the floor, being carried to the bedroom. Was that a challenge you heard?
“Be rough all you want tonight, alright? I don’t think your stress is gonna get away our traditional way today.”
“Really? ‘Traditional’?”, you huff and raise an eyebrow, Mingi kissing your cheek, as he opens the door to your bedroom.
“It’s almost our anniversary, let’s try something new, baby. I'll do anything you want. Don't care about me. I'll just be... you know. I don't know.”
“What? Is my husband getting bored of being in charge?”, you gasp theatrically, easing your hands into his shoulders, “Does hubby want me to order him around?”
“Let’s get rid of the terminology,” Mingi mutters, a bit sheepish, not wanting to admit that he read the term ‘service top’ somewhere in the deepest corners of the internet earlier this evening and had to ask you when you came home. You coming home an hour later just made him travel further the needy path, imagining how good he could make love to you, when his "own pleasure isn't the focus" (that's a quote from the website.)
“I just want my wonderful wife,” Mingi sighs, as he lets himself fall on the mattress backwards, with you landing on his hard-on, knees propped next to his hips, “And relieve you from all your stress.”
You’re still in your office attire, got your tie on tight around your neck, everything that screams ‘not ready for bed’, but Mingi doesn’t seem to care for your sheets to become dirty. In fact, he apparently wants you to be the dirtiest you’ve ever been, huh?
His long, slender fingers hold you by your jaw, as your husband roughly presses his lips into yours, immediately opening up his mouth to get a second taste with his tongue. While he tastes like mint toothpaste, you taste like bittersweet coffee, diligence and dedication; you are dancing heavenly on Mingi’s tastebuds, and his tongue laps over yours eagerly to not let any drop of your essence go to waste. He’s making you feel wanted, no, he wants you, and as Mingi takes your blazer off, your own desire to have him grows bigger with each passing second.
Your legs feel a bit tight due to the fabrics of your suit, but it doesn’t prevent you from grinding yourself into him, pants interrupting your greedy kiss. “Let’s get this off,” Mingi murmurs into your lips, hooking his finger into your tie, loosening it up, pulling it until he can wriggle your head through.
“Let’s get all of this off,” you reciprocate and his hands are on your waist, as Mingi watches you flawlessly open up the buttons of your blouse, tongue running over his lower lip. “Your co-workers don’t know you,” he chuckles, admiring you sitting on top of him with a look in your eyes that he could feast on for days, “But they should know that you are, fuck, breath-taking.”
You move your hips over his crotch, enjoying hearing your husband gutter out his thoughts.
“You are eye-candy in that, baby,” Mingi heaves, “I’m getting kinda jealous of your co-workers here.”
Cheeky, you let the blouse droop over your shoulders, revealing your lacy bra. Saying that you’re eye-candy doesn’t put it into words, Mingi thinks, and gulps at the sight of you stroking over your own torso and your breast that is just being so perfectly pushed by your lingerie, and— though it barely needs any convincing for him to swathe his tongue around your pretty nipples and get even more prettier sounds out of you— your slight gesture gets your husband’s head fuming with the things he wants to do to you to make you crumble and eat it all up deliciously, not leave anything behind.
“I bet they don’t get to see this though,” he grins and with a quick, studied flick of his fingers, the tightness around your torso is released and your tits are out for Mingi stare into. “Only I get to see this, don’t I?"
You nod and sigh, when he traces the red indents from your underwear with his thumbs and wets his lips; but before you think he's being too gentle, Mingi doesn't let you speak out the words 'yes, only you do' and interrupts you with his mouth, his hands holding you by your waist.
"Mingi," you pant. He has pushed you over on your back to the mattress without warning, caging you in with his frame. "Sorry, baby," he grins, pulls off his tank-top, throws it on the floor, quickly— he's got things to do here!— and then zips open your pants, kissing you from your cheek down to your collarbones, covering your body with his fresh breath. "Works better this way."
Mingi hooks his fingers into your trousers and pulls it off until your panties are revealed to him, but before he's able to wriggle it down to your calves and finally have it off your body, he's having a moment to look at his wife laying in front of him; your glowing eyes are glancing up, waiting, no, teasing, urging him on to do what Mingi has been planning to do since the first time he asked you when you would arrive back home.
"Please don't mention 'work'," you hiss, pushing your tongue against the inner space of your mouth.
He knows. He has never been there at your work-place, and he never asks you more about it than he should, because Mingi does think that his distraction works way better than to rant for hours, and he sees it, feels it— your anger, your frustration, your stress— but does he... well, how should he say this... care for it?
No.
"Why not?", is what Mingi whispers into your skin to make you roll your eyes and border him in with your thighs, the pants that aren't off yet keeping him between your legs. Fuck, you're so hot when you're stressed.
Okay, wait, wait, wait— hear him out.
First, please forgive him. You really have to. Mingi would never say this out loud, not under any circumstance that doesn't include you directly asking for it, but shit, look at yourself right now. Enveloped by your open blouse, your perfect breasts hanging out of it like a window luring him to peek like the shameful man he is, your facial expression judging him for his fawning— you are a goddess in his eyes, Y/N. And gods get angry. And then, when they're angry, they're the most powerful they ever are.
So there you go; Mingi, even though he's a husband that has never, ever throughout your marriage or your relationship, made you angrier for more than 24 hours, kinda enjoys it when you come home stressed, gritting your teeth, panting, groaning— talking to him with umph. The stress makes you riled up, makes you breathe fire, shoot flames out of your eyes that seduce him to be even more ignited, just for you.
"Are you trying to challenge me?", you huff and Mingi makes himself comfortable, placing his elbows around the sides of your body, anchoring himself on your lower abdomen with his forearm.
"Baby," he grins, kissing the inner sides of your thighs, "I would never do such a thing."
Except he is. When you get— and your husband thinks he's a genius to think of this— 'worked up', you become demanding, slightly sassy, playful, and there is nothing Mingi loves more than his wife to tell him exactly what she wants, because he knows he can be a bit dense sometimes. He tries his best, always, to do things according to your liking, but usually, you just let him do his thing since sometimes you need nothing more than his presence.
"I would never tease you like that, my," he pesters, "baby." With his lips stuck at the last inch before he's able to get it near your clothed cunt, you scoff, pressing your thighs together to squeeze his face.
"You better fucking not tease me tonight," you warn him and Mingi bites his lip, feeling his already-very-hard cock twitch inside his joggers at the cause of your tone.
"I love you too much," your husband answers and moves his head around, his pointy nose grazing against your covered clit. Like an automatic reaction, you gulp and throw your face to the side, your hand intertwining with Mingi's long fingers that are resting at the seam of your panties.
"Oh, please," you taunt, “dare to give me your worst performance,” and you think you're safe, since his hands are occupied with yours, but when you are in bed with him, and proceed to tease Mingi like this, then you are never safe with your husband.
(Except the part that you are safe, and safe with the thought Mingi is indeed going to relieve you.) Pressing his tongue against the fabric, Mingi curves it into the band, pushing it with ease, without any type of struggle to— and you should've seen this coming— plunge his tongue into your folds. "Fuck, Mingi," you breathe and he's chuckling against your wet cunt, as he laps his wet muscle over your slickness to gather what has been collecting in your underwear, slow and sensually, though his heavy breathing tells you that he's going to feast on it in no time.
He ‘loves you’, you know that, but ‘too much'? — Can there ever be too much?
"Ohh, fuck, that's good, right fucking there," you groan, gripping into Mingi's hand. With your feedback, Mingi continues to purl over your clit, sucking the fluid so it can spread on his tongue and melt in his mouth.
No. There could never be too much.
You taste so delicious, and it goes without saying that Mingi finds it fascinating that you look even better from this angle; he can see every lash of yours flutter with the slow flicking of his tongue, adding speed as he goes. “Yes,” you whimper, “‘feels so good.”
His heart and mouth are cooperating wonderfully, as his lips are spelling words of awe into your labia; He’s pronouncing how good it feels so good to be your husband, how good it feels to do good— and oh, it is so good to be yours, Y/N. You can’t even believe. The sounds you let out tingle all of his senses and he’s definitely going to have to hurry with his studio, if he wants to eternalise them.
Mingi holds the eye-contact to not miss any of your expressions, laving at your cunt with bizarre flexibility that makes you twist here and there, but his forearm is pressing you down to keep you on your back. "Squirmy," he grins, babying you while you are unable to open move your legs, since your own set of trousers is keeping them closed together, "am I doing you that well?”
Panting because of how constrained you are despite wanting to move around so much, you throw your head down on the soft mattress. "Uh-huh," you exhale, feeling his tongue circle around your clit and tease itself into your entrance, "so well."
Mingi's head is spinning. He wants to make you cum so fast, but he also wants you to beg for your orgasm until your voice is hoarse from the moaning, just so he can see your ribcage move up and down the bed one more time, no, please so many times, and maybe he could get his fingers in so he can— fuck, didn't he plan this out?
He makes it look easy, but in your husband’s mind, he's puzzling and figuring out the ways to pleasure you the best way he can. Mingi heaves and laughs, noticing how he's been cutting himself short of breath, too excited to be pleasuring you. "You’re so beautiful, baby," he says, voice having become raspy and an octave lower than usual; it appears to you that he's drunk on your taste, "you're making me insane with that view."
You inhale through your mouth with your lip-corners pointing upwards, a bit shy with your husband's praise, but you have no other way around than to listen to Mingi's dreamy words. "Unnh-huh," you react, but once your husband is laving at your cunt again, talking amidst of it, you are becoming a mindlessly noisy mess.
"My pretty baby," Mingi murmurs, and as he does so, his mouth is flocking in your slick, tickling your clit repeatedly, "my prettiest, loveliest baby, so whiny for me, fuck."
"More, Mingi," you grunt, feeling like the blouse is keeping you tight, so you push yourself up and get it off your arms— Mingi uses his chance to pull your panties over your knees— and after that, the male digs deeper into your crevice, thighs pressing him in which makes him gasp for dear air, "please."
Your pleads are meaningful to him, make his heart jump, make his head click like he's a dog being asked to obey, and okay, Mingi doesn't think he wants to be a pet, let alone an animal, but— you know what? Your pleads not only show what a considerate wife you are, it also makes Mingi know how much you want him, and that’s the best feeling in the entire world, and he would do everything to chase your pleasure and praise.
“Oh, I got all night, baby,” your husband chuckles, he’s grinding himself against the bed, huffing and panting, tongue delving deep into you on your command.
He drags the intertwined hands of yours down the tiny bit it needs for his thumb to meet your clit, and as Mingi rubs extensively over it, your knuckles go white from how strongly you grip into his fingers.
Oh god, this is exactly what you wanted. His tongue, his lips, his hands, oh, his hands— his fingers; those ridiculously long fingers that cover your whole pelvic bone when extended— slender and rapid, frantically incautious over your cunt, so eager to push you over the edge, pull you back up and throw you over again and again; you love how they look against your body, on your head, on your neck, on your cunt, everywhere they travel during your desirous journeys.
"Aren't I so scarily good?", Mingi huffs, nervy and immodest, talking to get himself to breathe, clearly confident that you are feeling the best you've felt the whole day given the way your muscle was contracting around his tongue, when it was still in you; unfortunately you're unable to answer him with words, just letting out another gutsy "unnnh" as feedback.
"I know, oh, I know," he grins, his thumb rubbing over your clit like he's racing with your stuttered breath, but ultimately, he’s making you feel quite empty with the lack of his mouth at your cunt, and he’s making you feel that way on purpose, "I'm the best, I can do you the best—"
"Mingi! Your Tongue! Please."
After his pant, his mischievous little chuckle, you understand it, understand it all clearly: your naughty Mingi loves to be ordered around by his wife. Loves being ordered around knowing that, once his tongue is inside you, you'll do absolutely nothing to hold him back, and it does make you want to fuck him even more, doesn’t it? You love your husband, you feel so young with him, so undisturbedly yourself— and how loved you feel, too.
Humming a fond "I got you, baby", Mingi shuffles himself together one last time, your thighs sitting perfectly on his shoulders, and there he goes, driving his tongue into you, even more ecstatic than before; now, that you even begged him to, it's like your husband has taken enough of a back to duplicate the amount of vigor, exponentially getting faster and more impassioned. "Oh, fuck," you breathe out and with Mingi's tongue rubbing your inner walls wild and avidly, his thumb sprinting across your sensitive clit, you are heading straight to your first orgasm.
"Just like that," you whine, knowing very well that it gets your husband riled up well across his usual efforts, and you continue with it just to chase your high, "just like that, baby, just like—"
Hey now, did you just call him 'baby'? And how sneakily you did it, too! You know how crazy it gets him, you tease. Your husband’s tongue raves against your sweet spots and your slick gets combined with his saliva, his thumb using the moisture as lube to not miss any of the chances to make you squirm and spasm on his touches, but Mingi’s cock, his poor cock, twitches in the short moment his sweet, desirous pet-name is exhaled out of your pretty mouth he’s definitely going to need to kiss a thousand times until he can only taste the word “baby” on his lips.
His own pelvis is grinded deep into the mattress, and pearls of sweat form on both your foreheads, your eyes rolling to where you can’t see Mingi concentrating on your face, when it cums with a movement of your pelvis bucking up.
“… That!”, you moan, and Mingi pants, shovelling your come into his mouth, slurping it up so long until you physically have to wring with him to get his tongue off your pussy, but the trousers at your calves make it impossible. It’s Mingi’s choice here. And he’s not letting go.
“Ba—,” you squirm, rocking your body from side to side, “—by, please! Fuck!”
“Call me ‘baby’ one more time, just for me,” he lisps, laving his tongue against your throbbing, pulsating clit, all the while you try yank your ass down, overwhelmed by your prolonged pleasure.
“Baby! Baby, baby, baby—“, you whimper, and Mingi kisses your inner thigh, when he finally stops, satisfied by your calling. With one last peck on your clit, he lets go off your hands and slips out your chokehold, pulling off your pants by hooking his fingers in and sliding them off your feet. “Aww, look at you,” he beams, grinning, going through his hair and stroking his swollen lip, “all blushed away, reminds me of the older days, baby.”
“You are the worst,” you sob, and lay lax on the bed, legs once in for all extending and relaxing. Strangely enough, your head feels light, and your body that was straining and trying to get Mingi off of it, is now feeling warm and calming down from the high.
“Aw, you think so?” Mingi smiles, kissing up your leg, your hip-bone, pressing his lips on your abdomen, your tummy, your ribs, marking all of your body with his love-soaked mouth. "I adore you so much."
Having wrung with your husband, you got rid of some of the fighting needs, but— as you’re being smothered by him and his sweet antics— you sigh into the gentle, feathery contact with your skin, and play molten with his soft hair.
You remind yourself of his words, ‘don’t care about me’, but your husband would be a fool to assume that his wife doesn’t want to give him anything back. “Mingi,” you murmur— noticing that you’ve been closing your eyes due to the relaxation you are experiencing, and he immediately answers an attentive “yes, baby?” back, as he repeatedly kisses your jaw.
“Do you really want me to order you around?”, you hum.
“Haha, no, baby,” he chuckles, “it's just…”
Mingi harrumphes in his thoughts, wrapping his arms around your waist, laying his head on top of your tummy and looking up to you— whispering, "I want to do what's best for you. Especially on days like these."
Your heart throbs at the sight of your husband's hair being dishevelled, his already plump lips seemingly looking more peachy, rosy, kissable after he's eaten you out with more than greed and thirst; something that’s more valuable to a healthy marriage than the phrase ‘good sex, no ex’— Love. And the sweetest love there could ever be.
"You would do that for me, baby?", you ask him, your voice coming out sighed.
"Yes, of course," he insists, kissing you down your sternum, your ribcage moving up and down in a slow rhythm. “Baby, you work so much for us… I feel like this is something I can do for you in return, you know?”
“But what if I don’t make you cum?”
"Huh?"
Mingi stops kissing you and glances upwards. You grin. You wanted to catch him off-guard a little bit. (Though you don't know whether that's surprise in the white of his eyes or something like... intrigue.)
“… Uh,” he gutters, thinking about his words very carefully, but ultimately failing to find something good to say.
You smirk and go through his hair, gently grabbing a handful of it. “I think you’d find it hot."
"Really?", he asks, nervously huffing.
"Mingi, didn’t I edge you all during our early twenties?”
“Baby, don’t—“
“What? Well, I thought it was hot. I remember it being really hot.”
“Those were trying times.”
“We did try a lot of things during college.”
Reminiscing and visiting your rather youthful, spry days, Mingi pushes his head deeper into your hand and smiles, having calmed down from the rather exciting idea that you would suggest something so risqué to him. How long has it been? More than ten years, wow.
"Look at us now, baby," Mingi murmurs, sub-consciously wandering up the silhouette of your body with the backside of his hands, making you rather ticklish, but in a way that goosebumps find themselves on your skin, your breath feeling lighter with each stroke of his finger-tips, "Look at you." He inhales, and then exhales, your thumb resting at his ear, "You are trying to kill me, baby..."
"Ohh, Mingi, I'm not!", you giggle, and you may not know what your husband is talking about, but through his lenses— though you would be right to assume that these lenses are painted a deep, deep red— he's seeing his wife be tempered, moderate, relaxed. If he finds you so hot when you're fuming, Mingi finds you enthralling, when your eyes are barely open, the slightest of smile decorating your lips, and an even more hidden pink daubed on your cheeks... You're his wife, Mingi repeats to himself, and his heart grows double its size because of it.
"I love you," he murmurs, and for the moment, he doesn't even know he said that out loud, “I love you so much”, and means it more the second time.
And there you lay, on the mattress, your husband beginning to kiss you again, his hands cupping your head, your fingers interlaced in his hair. "I love you too," you whisper, and as Mingi grabs you by your back, inviting you to get your body up, you're right in the zone again.
Soft, smitten contact— it’s your lips this time to cover Mingi’s neck with kisses, down to his shoulders, his collarbones, your knee working against his crotch, arms swung behind his head.
“I want to take care of you, baby,” Mingi whispers, his thumb caressing your jawbone, as you peck away the sweat on his skin, he will need another shower. “I want to make love to you.”
You smile in awe of your husband lulling the loveliest of words into your ear, soft rustling from your sheets accompanying his voice. The room you decorated together, the home you fill, and even sooner, you'll start a family— with Mingi as a father to be proud of. Who has done so much to keep you happy.
"But sometimes I think—”
“No, baby,” you interrupt him, his voice was dropping and you know you are preventing Mingi from talking bad about himself. He feels guilty, though you've told him uncountable times that you don't feel like you're the only one under this roof.
"But—"
“Baby, no.”
"Okay... I guess I just love you, then." Mingi chuckles, when your fingernails trail down his breast, drawing a line along his muscle definition, “what did you think I was gonna say?”
“Something that’s gonna take me off my mood,” you hum, hooking yourself at his joggers. Mingi sighs, loudly, not yet relieved, but still at peace somehow.
“Make love to me, Mingi.”
A slight gasp leaves his mouth. Oh…
“Y/N… You can’t say things like that.”
With a smirk, your hand disappears in his joggers, and then in his boxers; his thick, throbbing, struggling cock slicking in your grip, as you wrap your fingers around it.
“I can, baby, and I will,” you sneer, “I thought you wanted the best for me?”
He grits his teeth, but Mingi smiles, finding himself at your service. “Am I the best?”, he asks you, leaning forwards to rest his head against your shoulder, pushing you down again.
“You’re the absolute best, Mingi.”
You slowly glide your hand up and down his length nibbling at his ear, exhaling, seducing him. “You’re the best husband,” you purr, “with the most handsome face,” kissing his temple, “and”, with your other finger hooked at the waist band of his joggers, you reveal “the best cock.”
Mingi is touched. A bit embarrassed, yes, it’s been a while since he’s heard you talk like this, but to hear from the best wife that he is deemed the best husband is the highest compliment he could have gotten. What, his face still charms you? His cock is still alluring to you? Don’t judge him, but even after ten years he will be moved by your words.
Moved.
“Come on, Mingi,” you coo, feeling your cunt pulsate between your legs, his cock twitch between your fingers; your husband gulps and, with your command, roams against your body, "let's get you to work."
Maybe he's really revisiting things from the past, after all the talk about your college endeavours, because you definitely recognise his canine teeth ever-so slightly sunken into your shoulder, as Mingi grabs you by your thighs and spreads your legs gently. Your body remembers, and his cock surely does as well, glistening in pre-cum as it is positioned at your cunt. "God, baby," Mingi grunts, and you lick over your lips in anticipation.
“You’re so beautiful,” he pouts, and in an almost reverent tone, Mingi brushes away a sweaty strand of hair from your face, “you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”
“Not even your mom?”, you giggle, and while you think of your mother in law with utmost respect, your husband smiles, unfazed; “She’ll agree.”
And with that, Mingi is inside you, all of his length gliding into you with utmost caution; he’s driving in his pelvis unhurriedly, slow and deliberate, just so you can feel every inch of you inside expand for his girth, stretch for his entrance. "Fuck," you gutter and grab Mingi by his hair, pulling him close to you just as he begins to move, your moan coming out muffled against his lip.
"Never growing tired of it, are you?", Mingi grins into the kiss, and he's right, he's so, totally right, but your face is strained together in ecstasy, lascivious— aphrodisical to your husband. He's throbbing and he can feel how warm his own cock is, as Mingi pulls himself out of your tightness in his entirety and then, "fuck," pushes himself right back in inside you to experience it all again.
"I could never grow tired of my hubby," you chuckle and fuck, feel him, physically feel how he's getting excited about your words, something so enrapturingly hot boiling inside him; but while your personal heat ends up being your devilish little voice encouraging you to tease him, Mingi's does nothing more than to whisper him the most delicate ways of loving.
If he sucks on the spot right here at your pretty, graceful collarbone, will you sigh out an even more graceful breath? (Yes!) If he slides his tongue across your neck, just until your sensitive jaw, will you pull his hair with some type of feistiness? (Oh, god yes!) If Mingi, looking at you with sunken eyes, catches you off-guard and pistons his pelvis in at this exact moment, will you— "Fuck, baby!"
Oh, he didn't even need a voice for that one. Your husband slithers his arms under your armpits, one hand holding you by your back, the other resting on top of your head, so you don't hit the bedframe and hurt yourself, as it falls to the back with his thrust.
"Want me to say sorry?", he hums, again slowly driving himself out, knowing very well that once Mingi changes the direction, he will hit your sweet-spot again, and you shake your head rather weakly, drunken on the feeling of him filling you out.
"Good," Mingi confirms your answer, peppering kisses all around your forehead, as he quickens up his pace, breathing throughout it all. "Y/N," he sighs, you sighing with him for all the same reasons, "you feel so good."
You get used to the rhythm and let loose of the sheets, lightly scratching his skin at his waist. "You feel so good, baby," Mingi repeats himself and his eyebrows are pushed together, his grunts vibrating down your cunt. "Do you feel good, baby?"
Nodding, whispering a wispy string of a lot of 'yes'es, Mingi flashes his eye-smile and digs his face deep into the nook of your neck. He doesn't say it, because he's too busy panting, moaning, breathing out to his own thrusts, but your husband is overjoyed. You feel so tiny under his body— and maybe it's because you are, and yet the place you have reserved in his even bigger heart— which even in this moment, is beating for you and nobody else— is inexplainably huge. He wants to be yours as much as he wants you to be him, be with him, have all his life painted in your pretty colours until his canvas drivels over.
His cock is slipping in and out of you at fast speed now, your whiny moans encouraging Mingi to hold this angle since you're not stopping with it; "Are you close?", he asks and gets one arm of his out to rest his hand on the bedframe, towering over you, hair falling in front of his eyes.
"Yes, I'm close," you answer and search for another kiss, raising your hand to his cheek, Mingi immediately plunging his face into yours. He's close too, has been for a while now, but he had to get your confirmation that he was finally able to release himself into you— and then, when you nibble at his lip while a heavenly note of a moan leaves your opened mouth, Mingi's pelvis moves by itself.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," he cusses, having to install one hand at your hips so he doesn't rock you around too much, voice becoming high and needy, greed messing with the practiced way he thrusts into you, becoming sloppy and all the while passionate, chasing the speed it takes to make you feel the best and even better. His other hand slides onto your clit, and it does so by muscle memory, knowing exactly where to rub so you clench around him, scream out his name.
"I love you so much, baby, I want you so bad, and I'm— fuck," he heaves, his voice catching up with his movement, "I'm going to love you until we grow old, baby, I want to be with you until the end of our days— I," and Mingi is rambling his free mind here, his whole body, mind and soul at your service, "I want you to have me forever, Y/N."
"Mingi," you whine, and his cock doesn't stop hitting your soft-spot, your clit tingling from his thumb, making you dopey, skipping you through time, to a future where you lay with Mingi in bed at the same late hour, both heads fuming from work, trying to your steam off together now, worried that your kids will hear your words, grunting silently into each other's ears, the words being, "I'm gonna cum!"
Oh, what good days await you two, and how straight you're heading for it, too— with Mingi's breathing being cut short, coming out stuttered from how fast he's ramming himself into you, not too rough, but fluidly and ceaselessly until you are gasping for air, feeling the string be stretched further and further, pulled for release, spiralled by your husband's vigor and his panting; "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum so fucking bad, fuck!"
Mingi soaks sweatily in your words, his hair chaotic, his abs glistening from the heat of it all— you yank your hand out his mouth, your lower body curling up— "Fuck, baby!"
And with your tightened cunt Mingi lets out a deep, whole-hearted grumble, falling flat on your body, as he spasms; his hot, thick semen shot seeps through along the tip of his cock out your cunt, needing to be fucked right back into you so it doesn’t get lost on your sheets— you seeing absolute bliss, as he pistons into you one last time, eyes focused on your husband.
“Baby,” Mingi pants, and with your gazes meeting, his lips rush over to your cheek, pecking you one, two, three times— and then, on your lips one, two— no, holding one long kiss with you, his plump, rosy softness making your body melt into the mattress, as it falls deeper in slumber. “I love you,” he whispers into your kiss, tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “my baby.”
He pulls out, infamously slow, making you heave on his length even after you both finished. “Mingi,” you exhale, feeling your eyelids close by themselves, your husband slightly chuckling.
“Sorry, baby,” he says, caressing your waist and cheek, “you need anything?”
“Oh, Mingi,” you laugh; Mingi can't help himself, can he? Will always ask for your wishes, wishing to grant them, like he's some wizard, a magician, a devoted believer of your enjoyment and happiness— "You did all you could have done, baby."
"Really?"
"Come on, Mingi, you big baby, c'mere."
He huffs, a bit sulky maybe, your silly husband, getting the blanket from the bed to throw it over his shoulder and wham, over you— cuddling you in, for now ignoring that the both of you need a hot, steamy shower, just breathing in and out your presence, your sweet, dulcet presence, which caramelizes in his warmth, against his body, melting.
"Thank you for being there for me, baby," you smile, voice dampened by the blanket, but Mingi understands you just well enough.
You don't need to thank him. Mingi knows you know that. He's obsessed with you, and though you could try and say you're just as obsessed, your husband will try everything to your favour to prove otherwise.
As Mingi throws his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to his breast, making you listen to his heartbeat, beating just for you, you hear him whisper all kinds of affirmations. 'I'll never leave your side, I'll never make you feel lonely, I'll be yours forever.”
A career? A family? A happy life?
It's all waiting for you, patiently, each day and night you leave and come back home— in office clothes and a chaotic mind— watching, admiring, hoping to get the weight of responsibility off your shoulders, get you a taste of freedom, a taste of the fruits of your labour.
"Are you asleep?", he asks and you groan silently, pressing your face deeper down his armpit. "Baby..."
Mingi chuckles. You need this sleep, totally, but you also need to be cleaned up, which gives him the challenge to grab you by your leg the most gentle way he can, lift you up— and, when you lie in his embrace, head snuggled into his breast— he’s careful to not wake you up with the sounds of water splashing down his hand, as he soaps you in.
It’s difficult, this is difficult, it will all be so difficult— but Mingi, being your husband, your soul-mate, your everything, he’s putting his all on it to make it work.
(Work you up, make you work for it; until your voice is hoarse, until your body shakes, until your head is light and you can do it, all over again, the next day, evening and night.
“Happy wife, happy life!”
(Maybe Mingi embraces his new role as the father of your children too much.))
#song mingi smut#song mingi fluff#song mingi x reader#song mingi x y/n#song mingi scenarios#song mingi imagine#ateez x reader#ateez smut#chokkiwa#chokko
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my phone fell, love lmao i posted it by accident ^^ @tozakimo
strawberry kisses
farmer!momo x baker!reader | fluff, smut | men dni!
it's been an exhausting year, especially for you. you just graduated from your university, settled for a corporate job somewhere in the bustling and loud city of tokyo. it wasn't even related to your degree, for fucks sake, but you settled for it as it paid off really well.
but then, you got another offer later during the year. working for a small bakery at night just across your apartment. it was quiet, healing, with the smell of pastry and coffee pungent in the air— it was surely something you can't compare with anything.
your corporate job got too heavy, and it got to the point that it wasn't working well anymore. you kept your job at the bakery, now working full time.
unfortunately, before november came, the bakery shut down because of unprecedented reasons; which, the owner died of oldness, which you mourned as ms. sato was the kindest person to ever teach you about anything you know about baking now, she was like a second mother, one that you held really dear to your heart.
late november, your sister, mina, went to your apartment in tokyo.
all primed and cut into the right places, mina knocks on your door, three times, "y/n! open this goddamn door!" she shouted, and you revealed yourself, wrapped around a blanket, eyes puffed with tears. "oh," she hugs you immediately, taking your head to lay on her neck as you hugged her back. "tokyo must've been so unkind to you, huh?"
"i-it is," you sobbed as she held you in her arms. "i wanna go home, mina."
"well," she chuckles, rubbing your back in comfort and warmth. "i wouldn't be here if i didn't take you home."
it was such a pleasant feeling; taking the train home to kobe, the regret and awfulness of the big city of tokyo being transported away from you. mina was kind enough to lend you the window seat, which you really enjoyed.
mina taps you on the hand, "hey," she smiled. "it's sana's birthday in a few days..."
"oh! really?" you perked up at the mention of her girlfriend's name. "what do you plan to do?"
"nothing that big," she chuckles, her head hanging down and her hands fiddling with the rings on her fingers. "i bought a ring already, though."
"what!?" you exclaimed, hands on your mouth, trying to make yourself as shocked as you looked. "i mean, you've known each other for what... like 6 years already? i'm glad for you two."
mina sighs, "i know you are," she said. "but i just don't know how to ask her, you know? i'm not the biggest romantic out there. she is. but she's so busy with the farm and all; i know momo's there to help her but i just don't want to add to her worry if i ever ask h-"
"mina," you held your sister by the shoulders and made her look at you. "i'm not really close with sana but i know she loves you. trust me, she's been waiting for you to pop the question."
"well," she blushes. "could you help me?"
"of course," you chuckled at her. "we have like... 20 more days. so no pressure. let's just get home first, hm?"
"yeah," mina sighs as she lies back on her seat. "you know, i'd like you to meet her best friend, though." mina chuckled. "momo. such a lovely person. the girl literally leaves a couple of her fruits for us when she supplies the flour."
you smiled, imagining what she was like, how she was like, going into your family bakery back home. "she sounds delightful."
the next day, you got your being up to go and operate the family bakery, just a few streets away from your home. you went in with mina and briefed you about the different pastries that they still serve. you added a little bit of yours, but you let it out for a while, not confident enough to put it on the pastry shelves yet.
you sighed, taking a break from kneading, baking, mixing, and carrying the goods. it's around 6 'o clock am, just an hour before the bakery opens. mina was cleaning up the dining area thoroughly, as her jazz music blasted in the background.
the bell of the entrance rings, and you jolt up, "we're not yet ope-"
"oh," the woman chuckled, bags of flour on her toned shoulders, carried by muscled biceps. mina comes to lead the woman to the kitchen, where she puts down the flour on the supply area. "um," she says. "i-i need to get the fruits, hold on."
the woman rushes outside, and you stare at her as she goes to her truck.
"that's momo," mina chuckled at your obvious flush. it wasn't one of attraction, but one of embarrassment. you should've greeted her better. "she's cute isn't she?"
she looked delightful as she sounds.
"here," momo drops the fruits on the counter, bunched up in a plastic bag. "i- um, gotta go, mina."
"no, wait," you chuckled at her obvious shyness, her timidness making her cuter than she already was. "sit for a little while. i didn't greet you well so, wait-" you smiled at her as she sat on one of the seats in the dining area. you rushed to the baking area, where you stored the eclairs that you made, pulled out the little box, and stored it for her.
"here," you handed the box of eclairs to her. "just a little trade for the fruits you got us."
she smiles, "thank you," she bowed. "are you new here?"
"oh," you chuckled as you reached out your hand, urging her to shake hands with you. "i'm y/n. mina's sister."
she gently takes your hand, "momo," she says, looking into your eyes in an obvious flush as she spoke. "i- um, i'm mina's flour supplier."
"well, she told me already," you retracted your hand from her hold, but you admit, that was the greatest handshake of your life. she stands, putting the chair back on its old position. "see you around, i guess?"
"yeah, um," she looks down on her shoes as she takes the box of eclairs. "see you around, y/n."
momo leaves shortly after, leaves you in a haze, and mina nudges at you as she sees that little interaction when she is cleaning up the counter.
she laughs, "can't believe i saw two losers interacting with each other, oh my god," she chuckles. "i'm definitely going to ask sana to set you two up on a date because neither of you are going to do it."
"is she really that fucking buff?" you asked, albeit randomly.
"jesus," mina laughs further. "you stared at her arms the whole time?"
"damn," you palmed your face in the realization. "well it was out. if it had eyes, it'll be looking at me. but she's cute."
"can't believe that my sister thirsted in front of me," mina sighed. "anyways, she lives just right beside sana's. if you wanna know that sort of thing."
well, it's not useless, you thought. "i'm not some creep... i don't just want to show up at her door."
mina laughs as she arranges the trays of pastries ready to be lined up at the pastry shelves, "trust me, she wants you to."
the next day, you and mina, with her girlfriend, came and visited sana's farm, somewhere up the countryside. sana grew vines of grapes, with her wine distillery up the hill.
as you went up the hill, you saw various other fruits, and it reminded you of what momo supplies to the bakery everyday. you've made a jam out of the strawberries she gave, and it was as red as what you're seeing now.
"ah, momo!" sana calls out, waving to the truck that was driving by.
"hey!" momo stopped the truck, coming down from it. you looked in her direction; her hair tied up into a nice bun, her black tank top, her worn out cargo pants, and some boots. god. she looks like she's straight out of your dream. "the deliveries this day was so fucking many-" she mumbles and suddenly stops as you made your way to mina's side. "oh, hi," she greets, in a small tone. "y/n, right?"
"yeah," you smiled. "the strawberries there," you pointed. "are they yours?"
"oh," she scratched her nape, her cheeks at an obvious blush. "yeah- um, yeah it's mine."
"we'll head to the distillery for a while," sana chuckles as she held mina's hand. "take it from here, momo. she hasn't seen your side of the place."
"sana," she sighs. "alright. okay. i'll go take care of it."
you chuckled, "so, strawberries," you said. "how come they're so plump here? they're beautiful."
"well," she went to your side as you viewed the row of freshly grown strawberries. "it's all grown naturally. no pesticides or anything, i make sure that even the soil's clean."
"oh, wow," you commented. "i made a jam out of the strawberries you've been giving us," you said. "it's the yummiest ones. you want to have some?"
"oh, of course," she smiles. you can't help but melt. "the eclairs were so good though," she commented. "how come you aren't selling them yet?"
"i- um," you went silent for a second. "i'm not that confident yet with how it can turn out, you know. that's the last recipe that i learned from someone."
"well," she sighs. "i totally understand. i'll wait for those, though!"
you smiled at her. "so," you looked at her. "what do you do besides farming, momo?"
"i- um," she looks down on her shoes once more, trying to hide her obviously red face. "play drums at the local bar."
"no way!" you said, exclaiming in amusement. "wow," you commented on her. "you seem so chill. didn't expect that you're one."
"well," she chuckled. "it's a jazz bar. nothing too hardcore."
"what do you mean nothing too hardcore?" you chuckled once more, and as you two progress in talking, the more you get amazed at how incredibly delightful this woman was. "i love jazz. where do you play? i wanna go drop by."
"santorini's," she says. "it's sana's bar, actually."
"that friend of yours is one big businesswoman here, huh," you commented. "well, she's perfect with mina."
"couldn't agree more," she says. "when your sister came to her life, it was like she had forgiven anything. i mean, i came late to an invitation once and she just said 'it's okay,' like it's the most normal thing. i guess your sister really did put a bunch of ice on her head to calm her down."
you laughed loudly, astounded by the way she spoke, "ah, you're so..."
"what?" she asks.
"nothing," you chuckled. "so," you clasped your hands at your back. "will you drop by us tomorrow, too?"
"well," she blushed. "of course. i have to deliver mina's orders."
"okay," you smiled. "you don't have to be so uptight around me, you know?"
"i- um-" momo stuttered as you held her hand.
"see," you had a tight grip around her hand, letting her feel the coldness of it against her warm ones. "you're kinda- too cute for this."
it was a thursday, and you went to the bakery right after you took your workout, a new thing that you've been wanting to do.
well, you didn't have time to change, so you baked in your workout outfit, just switching the shirt into a spare, tight, tank top. the apron was clearly useless now, probably.
momo came into the kitchen while you were taking out the freshly baked buns, one that was baking underneath the bigger oven so you had to lean down.
"oh, careful." momo notes as she passes by you. she doesn't forget the sight. you bent down like that waiting for her to get over. god. it made momo go a little crazy while she went and dropped the flour at its usual spot in the bakery supply area. she let herself take that in for a while as she sat down, closing her eyes, feeling an uncomfortable state between her legs.
"momo?" you called out to her, and you went to the supply area, where you found her just.. there. "oh," you quickly went to get some water, as she stared a little too much on your backside on those purple leggings. "here," you said, cutting her out of her daze as you handed her some water. "tough day?"
"very," she said, gulping down the water with a couple of sips. you reached out to a certain drawer in the supply area, your perfectly shaped glutes on display for her. well, fuck. you handed over the strawberry jam to her. "oh, is this it?"
"yeah," you smiled. "try it out. just get a sourdough at the shelves. don't worry, i'll pay for it."
"nope, i have plenty of those at home," she chuckled as she stood up. "i- um," she stutters once more. "are you still going? i'm playing at saturday."
"oh," you smiled, wide enough to compete with the sun. "of course, momo. wouldn't miss that."
"great!" she smiles in happiness, clutching the strawberry jam next to her.
"i'll be cheering for you," you chuckled as you put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it. "good luck!"
she chuckled. "yeah, thanks."
saturday came by fast.
you hung out with momo last night at the market fair, along with mina and sana, who went around the carnival hand in hand.
you had your own delight with momo, who was chill at the carnival games, her winning at several ones, surprisingly as you two ate several snacks on the way. she won a big my melody plushie, which you will forever be thankful for.
you just like spending time with her. she has such immense warmth, though quite timid and shy sometimes, but she was beautiful in a way that you wanted to be consumed by her.
"god," you sigh against your bed, trying to settle into an outfit. "fuck."
"hey," mina says, her body leaning against the doorway. "having trouble?"
"yeah," you sighed as you sat up, and mina made her way to sit with you. "i've been struggling to find an outfit. i don't want something too fitting, too unrevealing, too tight, too everything- i just want something perfect for the night, mina."
mina laughs as she made way to your closet, and pulls out a specific dress. it was a black, suede, champagne dress with its straps thin just to hold the dress together.
"mina, you're a fucking genius," you sighed in comfort as you chuckled, taking the dress from mina's hands. "this is perfect, thank you."
mina laughs, "i know it is. date with momo?"
"hm, kinda like that. i'm seeing her play," you chuckled. "what about you? staying for the night?"
"i'll be at sana's," mina sighs. "she's not having the best time right now..."
"oh, like..." you stopped for a moment, understanding that her girlfriend was sick.
"she's been having a bad fever for the past few days." mina sighs.
"well," you sighed as well, but you remembered something. "i had some extra soup i made a few hours ago," you said. "maybe that could help her."
"you're a lifesaver," mina sighs in relief. "why'd you make it though?"
"just wanted something warm," you giggled. "anyways, i'll be leaving at 7."
"yeah, no worries," mina smiles. "good luck with your date!"
you arrived at the bar, a little past 7pm, perfectly in time in momo's set.
the previous band had only finished playing as you sat right in front, ordering a martini as the first drink of the night.
momo's band comes in as the dim light slowly gets stronger, you catch a sight of momo; in her signature tank top, arms out, with her pants, and a flannel tightly wrapping around the waistband of it. god. she looks so good.
the drums were, unusually, right on front and on the side, just a little beside you and she says 'hi,' with a little smile, her drumstick stuck to her fingers.
she was so cute, but then, she went on to test the tone of the drums, and it sounded great. but god, the way her muscles flexed as she took the drums to sound was so tempting that you just wanted to pull her out of the band and take her home.
but then, she catches a little glance at you again, as she sees you walk to the bathroom. she doesn't miss the subtle appearance of your cleavage, the way that the dress hugged your body so divine, and the way that your ass was so curved in it. it drove her fucking crazy.
you made your way back to your seat, as momo started the song with her band. you got another drink of the same kind.
they played really well, a couple of jazz hits, some requests, and some originals from their band were played.
momo looked at you from the crowd the whole time. you were so beautiful and irresistible in that fucking dress, that she wants to make you tell her to rip it off.
a few songs later, momo's band takes a bow, and the lights dim once more as a sign that their set was finished.
you wait for her silently at your table, now ordering your fourth drink of the night.
"hey," someone taps your shoulder from the back. "how was it?"
you saw momo in all of her glory, her flannel now covering her bare arms. she sits beside you, looking you in the eye.
"you're so great," you said. "you were so good at playing the drums!"
"well," she chuckled as she gestured to the waiter to get her the same drink. "someone important was watching, i didn't want to blow that up."
you chuckled at her, "hm, important, then? so, it's a date..."
"you could put it that way," she teased back. she leans closer to whisper to you, "you look beautiful tonight."
"thanks," you said as you put a hand on her thigh, getting her comfortable with your touches. "you're not so bad yourself. had your arms out and all on the stage."
momo laughs, "well, i didn't know you'd stare at that."
"i mean, i can help but to, you know," you confessed. "it's just so big-"
"something else is bigger- what?" she gets flustered by herself, saying the phrase. "no, oh my god, sorry, y/n... that was such a bad joke."
you just laughed and let yourself lean on her arm. "it's nothing, momo. it's okay," you placed a little kiss on her cheek. "you know, if you really wanna show it off," you slide your hands through her inner thighs, down to her crotch, feeling the material and her cock desperately straining against it. "do it, momo."
"fuck," she stands up, holding your hand, leaving the payment on the table as she makes a rush going out of the bar. "you're getting it."
"hm, let me." you chuckled as she went to open the car door for you, letting you sit down. she went and got into the other side of the car, and she drove away.
"such a little tease for me," she said, running her hand through your bare thigh. "wearing this tight fucking dress," she touches the hem of it as she drove off. "all for others to see."
you held onto your seatbelts as she creeped her fingers closer to your center. "momo-"
the teasing stopped once you arrived at her house, as she pulled you into a deep, breathless kiss. she lets you wrap your legs around her waist as she carries you inside, going to her room.
"fuck," she pulls away, closing her room's door, as she nipped on your neck, making sure that it's red enough for her. "you don't know how much i've been wanting you, baby."
you can't help but moan, and clutch your hand on her hair as she laid you down on her bed, nipping on the valley of your collarbones as she takes off your dress.
"so fucking pretty." she latches on your nipple, as she takes the other to knead with her hand.
"momo, ah- fuck," you rut your hips against her knee as she holds you by the waist. "i need you."
she pulls away from your breasts, as you kiss her, taking her flannel off, and pulling her tank top off. you held tightly to her bicep, as you gently tug on her pants, opening the button of it.
she kneels on top of you, her evident bulge just right on your face. it curved to the side of her calvin klein's, and she takes your hand to palm it.
"so warm, baby," she says, feeling the sensation of you touching it above her boxers. "take it off."
you took it off, and it springed right up, her cock red and hard, slapping up to her navel.
you took her length to your hand, pumping it up and down, as she thrusts. "so needy." you swiped your thumb on the sensitive head, making her squirm.
"wan' fuck your mouth," she whined, getting off of you for a second as she took the space beside you. "please?"
"so cute when you beg," you pumped her a couple of times, as you trailed your kisses from her chest to her stomach. she was whining, holding you by the hair as she makes you a makeshift ponytail. you licked the head of her cock, and she moans loudly. "so cute."
you finally let her fuck your mouth, the big length just sliding in and out of your throat, the tip reaching parts of your mouth you've never known before. momo knows that you were choking, but that doesn't stop her, as she pulled you down by the head to take on her 9 inch length.
"god," she stills, letting her cock pulse fully inside of your mouth. "you're so fucking good, baby."
she finally pulls out, flipping you over with her big strong arms as she kisses your neck once more. "tell me what you want, baby," she whispered. "i need you to let me fuck you like the little bitch you are."
"make me cum," you held onto her hand that was kneading your breast. "please, momo, i don't care how many times- just-"
she kisses you on the lips once more, making you shut up. "don't worry about it."
she trailed her kisses from your chest to the waistband of your panties, spreading your legs and putting it on her shoulders.
"needy little bitch, all for me," she tapped on your arousal that seeped through your panties a couple of times, which made you squirm, your thighs closing on her head. she spreads them once more, removing your panties, and now, the wetness of it glistens in front of her. she takes a long stripe from your hole to your clit, making you hold onto her hair. "and you're delicious. can't wait to eat you all night."
she latches her mouth on your clit, looking at you with utmost adoration and lust as you come apart on her tongue. she laps, circles, and plays around with it, making you moan and strut your hips to meet her tongue. she couldn't be more happier when you begged more.
"momo, fuck," you moaned out, her lips still closed and sucking your clit. "fingers, please."
she happily complies, her fingers teasing the outside of your folds, getting it wet enough to be inserted. she puts two of her fingers inside, licking at your clit, as she moves it in and out to hit your g-spot so deliciously.
"mmgh! holy shit, momo," you closed your eyes in the ecstasy of her pleasure. "more, fuck," you rutted your hips, her fingers going faster. "ah."
she pulls away, smirking as she pumps her fingers faster, now she latches on your nipple, stimulating the hard nub, as she makes you come apart on her fingers.
your juices were overflowing on her hand as she went and used her thumb to make circles on your clit. "momo!" you held onto her biceps as she kissed you on the neck. "fuck, fuck," you were becoming sensitive, with the way she was holding and fucking you with her fingers. "momo, i'm gonna-" you held onto her tightly, feeling the heat building up from your pussy.
"cum for me," she whispers, the thumb on your clit teasing you further. "cum, baby."
"fuck!" you screamed, squirting on her hand. you felt your arousal trickle on her hand, to her bed, but you felt something different. it was momo's cum, white, spurted, on your thigh. "did my baby cum untouched with that, huh?" you teased as you pumped her cock, and was surprised that it wasn't even half hard. it was still hard, ready to be inside of you.
"don't worry," you went on top of her, your hands directly touching her toned stomach, as you glide your wetness on her length. "can't wait to have your big cock inside of me," you moaned, lining up her wet cock to your hole. "mmgh," you slowly sit on it, the girth already stretching you out enough. "so fucking big, baby."
she held your arms, as you tried to sit down on her cock. slowly, you ride her, her length not fully in. she was getting impatient, so she rolled you two over, slamming her cock inside of you fully.
she lets you feel her cock inside of you, almost kissing your cervix with how big it is.
"so tight," she thrusts, holding you by the waist, fucking into you slowly to get you loosened up. "fuck, is it your first time?"
"no," you let yourself sway with her, already trembling with how big she was. "it's just that you're so big..."
"hmm, i know," she kisses you once more, a little gentle, as she tries to thrust in and out slowly. "just tell me if you're good already, hm? don't want to destroy my sweetheart like that."
you wrapped your arms around her and you smiled, "get rough with me," you whispered, your mouth forming into an 'o' as her thrusts fasten. "make me your bitch, come on- ah," you moaned, holding onto her biceps. "fuck, use that fucking cock."
"g'nna destroy your little cunt, baby," she moans, holding you by the waist, thrusting as your back arches to her touch. "i'm too big for you," she growls, putting her hand above the spot where she feels her cock bulge. "taking me so fucking well."
you continued to writhe below her, as she pumps her cock, in and out, your pleasure spot getting battered as you let out spurts of your arousal.
"you're so wet," she says, pulling out completely, and turning you over. she tucked a few pillows on your chest, letting you lean onto it as you're now positioned by her on fours. "i want you to stay like this. can you, baby?"
"hmm," you moaned, feeling your juices trickle down to the bedsheets. "fuck..."
"you're making a mess," she laughs, rubbing your folds languidly, as she inserted herself once more, shocking you. you were tighter, "you're gonna squirt on my cock, aren't you, messy girl?'
she went and rubbed your hardened clit, making you squirm and grip her sheets as you whined, screamed, and shouted her name.
she continues to thrust, fast, as she slaps your ass. "fucking slut, always having your ass out when you're at the bakery," she closes her eyes and remembered the times that your ass confined into your clothes too much as she squeezed on it, spreading it apart. "you've been wanting someone to fuck you like this, haven't you, hm?"
"yes, yes!" you screamed, holding onto her sheets as you slammed your hips back in time with hers. she pulls you to her by your hair, and she wrapped her arms around you as she thrusts, her fingers once again creating tight circles on your wet clit.
she huffs, kissing your neck once more, leaving a mark as she held you by the waist, thrusting uncontrollably when she felt your pussy walls pulse against her.
"momo," you moaned, weakly, as you leaned into her touch. "fuck, momo, fuck me more," you whined. "please-"
she pushed you gently again, making you go on fours, as she thrusts, faster than she was before, pumping her wet length in and out of you.
"am i fucking in you enough, huh," she asks in short breaths, her wet skin on your wet skin as you moaned onto her pillows. "so fucking tight, baby," she grunts, feeling your arousal grow by the minute. "cum for me."
you squirted as she continued to thrust, fucking your overused pussy as it pulsed.
"take it." she thrusts, slow, as she makes you feel her pulse. her warm liquid covers your inner walls, as she falls on top of you. "fuck," she pulls out, letting herself soften outside of you. she went and admired her work, your hole filled with her cum, dripping to your clit, but she was fast as she used her tongue to put it back in. she went back to you, making you come back to a laying position, and she makes you rest on her chest. "w's that good, baby?"
you nod against her warm chest, looking up at her. "so good," you smiled, kissing her cheek. "thank you, momo."
she chuckled, "that's nothing," she says. "how are you? did i get too rough? sorry if i d-"
"i told you, right?" you chuckled, holding her hand. "so no, you're not too much."
"well," she blushed still, as she Interlocked her fingers with yours. "what about a proper date?"
"maybe, that's too late to ask," you chuckled. "i mean, you already have me here, you know?"
she laughs, "just wanted to make sure." she kisses your forehead.
maybe, your year isn't that bad at all.
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too many teens whining for validation, this blog needs more weird and stupid so...
AITA for kidnapping my friend and trapping her in the cheesebarn?
Hear me out:
The story starts about a week before my (20 at the time ftm) 21st birthday. If you live in the US you know this isnt just some lame 7th birthday or 36th birthday, this is one of the big boy birthdays, the special ones. Its when you can legal buy alcohol and are therefore truly an adult in the eyes of the law.
Naturally my friends (20s) wanted to do something Big for our 21sts. So they asked me what i wanted to do and i said i didnt really care as long as I got a road trip somewhere with friends.
Everyone thought it was a fun idea but it was a little short notice for everyone to get time off from work, but my other friend we will call C also had her 21st exactly a month after mine to the day, and the two of us agreed to share our 21sts and not do much of anything on my actual birthday. This is important, bc it was a SHARED birthday road trip.
I agree to let C pick the destination and I provide the car. We didnt have much of a plan as we were going to meet up with C's old roommate who lives in the city we picked to show us a good time.
It was 5 of us total and about a 7 hour drive altogether there with not a whole lot on the way there. We get to the city she picked and meet the roommate and honestly the rest of this part is just standard 21st birthday shenanigans. Its when we start the drive home things really start.
Remember its a long drive with not much to see? Well that was a lie. On our way back we see it, the Real "Happiest Place on Earth" as far as places with a mouse for a mascot go:
Grandpa's.
Fuckin'.
Cheesebarn.
Obviously me and the other people on the trip want to stop and see the magic, but unfucking fortunately C happens to be the only Basic White Girl ™️ in the entire world who hates cheese and isnt even lactose intolerant. This girl is notorious for making "petty" and "I hate Cheese" her entire personality. She would constantly make faces and gagging noises and talk about how gross and nasty cheese is if you so much as eat a grilt cheese near her.
Clearly she made it known that she wasnt on board with it. "NO! FUCK YOU ALL IM NOT GOING TO A PLACE CALLED A CHEESEBARN ON MY BIRTHDAY!!" were her exact words.
But i remembered i was driving, it was my car, and it was supposed to be my birthday too. So I put it to a vote. "Raise your hand if you wanna go to Grandpa's Cheesebarn!"
All hands raise but one. With C out voted we head to the cheesebarn.
Guys. This place is amazing. Its obviously making cheese its main draw, but yhere's so much more, its every shitty midwest tourist trap rolled into one glorious place. There's even a chocolate shop. We even got C's roommate to ditch work and come meet us bc shr heard "Grandpa's Cheesebarn" and knew she had to drop everything.
All in all a good visit, C even seemed like she had fun once we got there (she sure spent $300 on candies and dip mixes anyway). We go home. Things seem fine.
Then C drops off the face of the earth.
She wont respond to our calls or texts and at first we thought maybe she was giing through a rough patch or something and try to just keep reaching out but give her space. But then we find out that not only is she still hanging our with our other friends who couldnt make the trip with us. So clearly she's just pissed at us about something.
Finally one day a few months later i catch her at her job and just tell her "I dont care if you hate us, we'll never speak to you again if you dont want us to, but what the hell did we do to you??"
And she just looked me over and says "Well. You kidnapped me."
lolwut
And she yells (bc this girl loves yelling at people) "YOU KIDNAPPED ME AND TRAPPED ME AT A CHEESEBARN ON. MY. BIRTHDAY!!!!!"
And i just said "Well it was my birthday too," and havent spoken to her since. Its been over a decade and "No ragrets" as we said back in the day, but uts baffled me for years that that was her reaction. "Im just over you guys" i can understand, and its not like she was shy about telling people she hates them and their out of her life ever before. And from what i ended up hearing from our other friends she kept talking with it really was about the cheesebarn and how we "ruined her birthday".
No but srsly AITA??? For making her go to a cheesebarn???
What are these acronyms?
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Self indulgent idea about task force 141 rescuing a wrongly-kidnapped scientist/researcher reader. Gender neutral reader, implied American reader implied violence and torture, implications about the reader looking young (I imagine the reader being between 20 and 30 years old). I see it as future tf141xreader, but feel free to imagine otherwise and/or take this idea and run with it as you please. MDNI.
————
Imagine you are a government researcher. Technically a government employee but you are pretty low on the ladder, just starting out at a research laboratory on a small military base. You are so excited to start working with your supervisor/PI, a very influential scientist who has their fingers in a lot of research pies (some more secret than others).
But you have nothing to do with the secret stuff. You’re more interested in environmental research (of which the military does have to pay at least a little bit of attention to, so you work with what you get).
You’re getting out of the lab late one evening, having to stay even after your PI left to clean glassware (your least favorite task). You lock the door to the research building and walk to your car, only to see someone else parked next to you. The hood of their car is open and they look distressed. You don’t recognize them but it’s not like you know everyone on base. So when they ask you for a jump start you agree and start rooting around your car to pop the hood. You just got your hand around that pesky lever when you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head and everything goes dark.
————
You wake up in a dingy concrete room with your arms and legs tied to an equally dingy chair. You are shocked, panicking and in pain, but through the ringing in your ears you hear shouting from outside the room.
“What do you mean that’s not Dr. Scaffer?” An angry accented voice shouts.
“It was bad intel!” Another voice insists, same accent as far as your fuzzy brain can register, “we did not get any physical description, only that they would be the last one out!”
“A head research scientist with top secret clearance won’t look like a kid who just got out of college!” You hear a muffled bang - your heart stops beating in your chest - but the voice continues, dismissive, “I have to do everything myself.”
He enters the room.
————
Two hours later, not that you can really keep track, you are left alone again. Significantly more injured from what you just went through (your brain cannot even ponder the word “torture” through the unceasing static of your thoughts), you realize that you are going to die. Whoever kidnapped you grabbed the wrong person, and unless they want to know about the water quality of the watershed around base you don’t have any information they want. You are no use as a hostage, and you are going to die. You can only hope it will be quick and painless—
You can’t breathe, you were never good at handling stress.
At least when you’re unconscious it doesn’t hurt anymore.
————
Recovering VIPs is well within their capabilities, Gaz thought to himself as he recounted the brief they were given a short two hours ago. But usually if it was a researcher they were rescuing then their area of expertise would be weapons technology, or infectious diseases, or something that’s not water chemistry. It’s not his job to judge, it’s his job to get you back home where you belong. However the judgmental voice in the back of his mind can’t help but kick in, remembering the profile photo they were provided of you.
“They’re quite a cutie, no?”
Gaz is knocked out of his thoughts when Soap catches up to him, both fully geared up and heading to airstrip. Wheels up is in 15 minutes, and Gaz is sure their Captain and Lieutenant  are already in the transport. While Ghost is probably just sitting and “brooding” as Gaz likes to call it, he gives Price a 50/50 on being on the phone with Laswell. Their Captain probably wants to know how a young researcher got kidnapped from an American military base only to end up as a hostage in Russia. Hell, Laswell probably wants to know that too.
“Time ta go save us a bonnie researcher!” Soap proclaims picking up the pace and rushing in front of Gaz. It’s obvious Johnny shares the same thoughts as Kyle when it comes to your appearance, only one is better at keeping those thoughts to themselves.
“Yeah let’s make sure we get them back alive” Gaz responds, his sharp mind working overtime to calculate how long your captors will keep you alive once realizing you are not a spring of top secret information nor a high profile bargaining chip.
“Of course we will mate,” Soap declares, his sober tone almost catching Gaz off guard, “with LT back on the roster we’re at full strength again, n’one left behind.”
Gaz agrees with the sentiment, and taps Soap on the chest lightly as they approach the transport.
“No one left behind”
————
Thanks so much for reading, this is my first time writing something like this so I’m still trying to get the character’s ‘voices’ right and all that. If you decide to build off this idea please tag me! I appreciate y’all 💚
#cod mwii#task force 141#tf 141 x reader#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#captain john price#fic idea#text post#LC writes
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Maknae Line: Love Languages and Sex
Wordcount: 6,250 words
Genre: Smut, headcanons and scenarios.
Includes: Skz maknae line members, female reader, dirty dialogues. Mentions of stress in Seungmin's scenario, and the tiniest bit of angst too.
Author's note: Finally, the maknae version is here! I know it took me a while, and I apologize, but here it is. This is all lovey-dovey, just sweet filth. I had tons of fun writing this, so I hope you guys like it. If you want, you can check out the Hyung Line version here. This is not proofread, and english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Enjoy!
If you wish to support my work further, please consider buying me a coffee! The job hunting has not been good pretty far, so every single tip is appreciated. Also, feedback, reblogs and comments/asks are very motivating for me to keep on posting. I love you.
Smut warnings: Dirty dialogues and curse words. Use of petnames, mutual masturbation (for Jisung's scenario), oral sex, face fucking (for Felix's scenario), cum eating (for Felix's scenario), shower sex (for Seungmin's scenario), choking (for Jeongin's scenario), body cumshot (for Jeongin's scenario), also possessive Jeongin because I love him so much.
Jisung: Physical Touch and Quality Time
"Is this one okay?”
Jisung has been scrolling for about 20 minutes over the movie catalog, trying to pick a movie for you to watch together.
A waste of time, you think. It’s not like you’re going to watch it anyways, and he knows it. But he still spares some of his time to try and find the right one, something you'd want to watch... or have as background noise while you two make out.
“Yeah,” the movie looks promising, but considering’s Jisung’s sneaky hand between your thighs while he mindlessly stare at the screen in front of you two, you’re really sure you’re not going to pay any attention to it. “That one’s good”.
Once the movie starts playing, you two settle in beneath the warm blankets with all sorts of snacks, candy and chips to munch from, happily enjoying each other's company.
Because of college and part-time jobs, it’s has been a while since you last enjoyed a chill, relaxed weekend with your boyfriend. Surely, he does everything he can to meet you throughout the week —a quick call between your classes to chat for a while, an unexpected invitation to eat or have dinner, driving to where you work so he can pick you up and drive you home… Jisung always finds a way to spend some time with you, even for ten or fifteen minutes.
That's why whenever you two are free for the day, he rushes up to your apartment, or ask you to meet in his, just so he can spend all day together with you. Sometimes you two go out and enjoy a nice dinner somewhere, followed by a late-night walk through Seoul’s streets. Some others, you’d rather spend your weekend at home, ordering take out and just unwinding together like you’re doing right now.
But almost always, such dates end with you two fucking like you haven’t seen each other in months.
“The screen is right in front of you, Ji,” you tease him, once you realize his undivided attention is all over you, and not the movie he allegedly chose because he has been meaning to watch it for a while now.
“I know,” he simply replies, tilting his head while his loving eyes keep staring at you.
You turn your face to him, defeated. “You know, ever since we started dating I’ve never been able to watch a 2-hour movie complete”.
Jisung smiles fondly, letting out a soft scoff. “Am I really the only one to blame?”
“That’s not the point!,” you can feel the heat in your cheeks when he says so, but you try your best to remain calm. “The point is that you’re not paying attention to the movie, and it’s really good”.
“Oh, so you’d rather watch the movie?” his teasing tone tells you that you’re most definitely not going to keep on watching the movie, not even if you tried.
And although you’re not a fortune teller, the sudden touch of his hand against your inner thigh proves you right.
“If this is what you wanted since the beginning, why bother spending hours looking for something to watch?” you hum, spreading your legs underneath the comforter, welcoming Jisung’s touch.
He gives you a mischievous look before returning his attention to the screen, leaving his hand between your thighs without doing anything further.
“You know, you’re right,” he sighs, cuddling into his spot. “We should watch the movie, we’re almost halfway through it”.
His touch isn’t foreign to your body, but that doesn’t mean you’ve gotten used to it. Every time he touches you, it feels like it’s the first time he ever does so. It feels like a spark of electricity, one that ignites your desire in no time.
“Yeah right,” you chuckle, shifting your position on the couch to get close to him. “You’re saying so like you’re not going to forget about the movie in 5 minutes”.
“Do you want to bet?”
Typical Jisung. His fun and always-down-for-a-challenge personality is probably one of the things that made you fall in love with him profoundly, so you smile at him. “Bet what? That you can’t keep your hands off of me?”
“You can’t keep your hands off of me,” he mocks you, staring at you with loving and playful eyes. “I’m just too handsome for you not to crave me all the time”.
You roll your eyes, but you know he’s right. There’s something enticing about him, something that captured your attention ever since the day you met him for the first time. You can’t think of going on a day without kissing him, or touching him, or letting him fuck you in every room of your apartment.
“Okay, okay, I think we’re even,” you tell him, leaving a quick peck on the corners of his lips. “You crave me just as much as I crave you”.
Jisung pouts because of the quick kiss, his hand moving from your inner thigh to your hip. “So we can forget about the movie, then?”
You chuckle softly, brushing your nose against his as he leans over your for another kiss. “It’s not that good, anyways”.
“No?” the dark-haired purrs against your lips, kissing you deeply while his tongue grazes yours. He only stops the kiss to let you breathe for a couple of seconds, but kisses you again right after. “Is this better?”
“A hundred times better,” you smile, still kissing him while his hand gets lost in the hems of your clothing.
Next thing you know, the comforter has been discarded to the floor and Jisung's running out of clothes to take off from you, only leaving you in your underwear. His hands touch and grope your body like it’s the first time he touches it, like he is just exploring it despite knowing it very well.
Jisung always touch you like he has been craving it for ages, dragging his palms over the sides of your body and pressing you against his to feel you even more, completely at all. He kisses and licks your neck and chest, letting out quiet moans in between, enjoying your smell and the way your skin welcomes his love bites by turning shades of pink and red.
You latch your fingers onto his dark, soft hair when he slides your underwear to the side, his fingers immediately offering you the much needed stimulation. You do the same, sneaking your hand underneath his underwear to find his erected cock that is already leaking, practically begging for your touch.
“You got one thing wrong, though,” he murmurs in between kisses, shifting his position on the couch just slightly so that you can comfortably masturbate him while he does the same for you. “I don’t think it’s possible for you to crave me more than I crave you”.
“Do you want to bet?” you chuckle against his lips, drowning a moan when you feel his cock throbbing inside your fist.
The more you jerk him off, the sloppier Jisung’s fingers get, and the more he stimulates your clit, the slower the rhythm on your wrist —it’s a neverending moment. You’re kissing while pleasing each other, moaning in between, losing the pace of your ministrations as you both chase your highs, murmuring sweet nothings under your breathes, interrumpting the kisses to look at each other with lustful eyes and furrowed eyebrows, parted lips and quiet whimpers.
It doesn’t take you long to come in each other’s hands, making a mess of yourselves and your underwear. You’re now dirty, and practically naked, so Jisung can’t lose the opportunity to change his mind about the movie.
“Do you want me to run a bath for us, baby?”
You’re sure you know how that is going to end, but you can’t refuse.
Felix: Words of Affirmation and Quality Time
You both have been waiting for this exact moment ever since the last time you saw each other. Which was two days ago, but it felt like ages.
Tonight, you’re supposed to attend a dinner party of one of your closest friends, but you’re really struggling to get out of bed. Especially because it's Felix who's holding you hostage between his arms, pouting and whimpering every time you remind him of the very little amount of time left to get ready.
“Let’s ditch the dinner,” he tells you, snuggling underneath the bedsheets and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Let’s stay like this all night. What do you say?”
You throw a pillow at him and get free from his hold. Truth be told, you'd rather accept his proposal, but you can't ditch on this very close friends of you, especially on such an important occasion as a birthday is.
“Come on, Lix,” you murmur, walking towards the bathroom mirror to do your makeup. It had been a wise decision to take a shower before cuddling each other during the afternoon, otherwise you'd be more in a rush than you already are.
You hear him groan, and curse, and groan again until he meets you at the bathroom, joining you in the sink to brush his teeth and do a little bit of makeup.
When he approaches you, you notice his semi-hard bulge underneath his grey sweatpants as he relentlessly tries to fix and conceal it. Perhaps the cuddling session got to him, and he would rather stay at home and fuck you on every position known to mankind than going out and missing the warmth of your body.
You understand him, though.
“What?” he chuckles, his deep voice startling you minutes after being shamelessly looking at his crotch. “Did you change your mind?”
Hadn’t been this a very close and dear friend of yours, you’d cancel them on the spot. But you really want to go, so the plan is still on.
However, it doesn't really matter if you get there a little late, does it?
“No,” despite your answer, the way you close your cosmetics bag mid-through your makeup confuses Felix. “But we can have fun of our own before meeting our friends, don’t we?”
His eyes widen just a little. “We’re not going to make it on time if we start,” he tells you, tilting his head flirtatiously towards you.
“The point is to be there,” you reply, planting a wet kiss on his freckled cheek. “I don’t mind if it takes us a little while to get ready”.
Felix wraps his arms around your body and holds you close to him, forcing your lips against his in a peck that quickly, turns into a heated french kiss.
He kisses oh so deliciously. Never too rushed, and never too sloppy. He kisses you slowly and roughly, fucking your mouth with his tongue and biting your lower lip in between, pulling it just in the slightest to earn a hiss from you.
“You’re only getting me harder,” Felix murmurs when you interrupt the kiss to breathe. Judged by the strong pressure against your thigh, you can only assume he’s right. “I’m gonna need to jerk off or else I'm going to spend the entire dinner like this”.
“Jerk off?” you query with knitted eyebrows, your hand playing with the hems of his sweatpants and underwear, “I’m right here, Felix”.
“I don’t want to ruin your make up,” it’s not fully done yet, but he doesn’t want to discard your efforts in what you had by now. The eyeliner and mascara were surely going to make a mess —last time he fucked you, you both realize it wasn’t as waterproof as they claimed them to be. “And I don’t want to make a mess out of you either”.
“I don’t care,” you whisper, leaving a trail of kisses from his lips, along his jaw and into the crook of his neck, “let me help you”.
“I won’t take responsibility for anything,” Felix warns you while not being able to divert his gaze from your figure that's currently kneeling in front of him. He rests his body against the edge of the bathroom countertop, with his back facing the mirror, and guides his fingers to your freshly brushed hair, “so you better start thinking about a new outfit option”.
“Got it,” you hum, lowering his clothes to release his erection that's throbbing and pulsating inside your fist, begging for you to pay attention to it. “What about that black dress you like so much, huh? Should I wear that one tonight?”
Felix closes his eyes and throws his head back when he reminds the piece of clothing you’re referring to. Not only that, but the memory paired with the feeling of your warm tongue swirling against the tip of his dick earns you a deep moan from him.
“Y-yes,” he hisses, forcing his head down and opening his eyes to admire the whole scene. “But don’t expect me to keep my hands off of you tonight if you do”.
You smile while smacking his cock against your tongue, tasting the salty precum from his tip. He looks beautiful from this angle —his slightly sloping face is commanding, and his normally gentle eyes are now dark with desire.
“Like that,” Felix encourages you, grabbing a fistful of your hair while forcing your head back, “do that again for me”.
You stick out your tongue further and slap his cock against it yet again, making sure to put on a full show for him. You let drool fall into your chest, staining the dress you’re currently wearing —and the one you were supposed to use at the birthday dinner tonight— but you don’t do anything about it because you know how much Felix likes that.
“Fuck,” he sighs, guiding the grip on your hair towards his dick, asking you to take him fully inside your mouth. You follow compliantly, because that’s exactly what you want too. “You’re so- fuck, so fucking beautiful”.
Felix has a way with words. He's very vocal at all times, especially when it comes to sex —not a day goes by without him praising and complimenting you. That’s just one of the many ways he shows his love towards you, and he knows how much you love it.
“Since when does your pretty mouth can take me so well?” You hold your breath when your nose hits his pubic bone, drooling all over his cock as he says so. After much fooling around with Felix, your body has grown to know him fairly well, “you’re making me feel so good”.
You take his cock out of your mouth and continue stroking him using your own drool as lubricant, offering him a delicious friction that has him gripping the edge of the bathroom counter until his knuckles turn pale.
Felix does his best to keep his eyes open, staring down at you while you suck on his cock eagerly, demanding something he can only give you. He’s just about to give it to you, but he wants to elongate the moment as much as he possibly can.
“Look at me,” he demands, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. “I want to come while looking at your face”.
You're definitely not the best looking right now, with all the drool spilling from your mouth and your eyeliner and mascara smudged, but Felix thinks you've never look prettier. He loves this side of you, the dirty one.
He caresses the side of your face with his thumb, wiping away a few tears running down your cheeks after taking all of his dick inside your mouth. “I love you so much,” Felix quietly moans, his words getting overshadowed by his heavy breathing, but still managing to reach your ears nonetheless. “I love you so- fuck, so fucking much”.
You smile against the tip of his dick and increase the movement of your wrist around him, getting yourself ready for his orgasm —an orgasm that doesn’t take too long to happen, shooting white ropes of cum onto your face and dress while he curses and whimpers your name under his breath.
After a couple of seconds of him overcoming his high, and you licking his arousal up until he’s clean, Felix helps you get up from the floor and kisses you just as deep as earlier, tasting himself off of your tongue.
“I’m fully convinced I want to marry you,” he chuckles against your lips, licking up some of his cum on your chin.
“Well, my hand looks a bit empty without a ring, you know?”
Seungmin: Acts of Service and Quality Time
When you called him, crying over the phone, Seungmin's heart was practically wrenched.
“I’m so- I’m so fucking stressed,” despite his efforts to try and talk to you, asking you what’s wrong, you just couldn’t begin to explain him that there was nothing, specifically, wrong. You just felt overworked and tired because of college, and you were having a hard time handling everything.
“Where are you right now?”
“College campus,” you tell him, trying your best to look collected while crying, sitting on a bench not too far from the main building. “I’m supposed to attend another class in like-”.
“I’m picking you up,” it's not a question nor a proposal. It's an affirmation, one that you're ready to argument.
“No, Seungmin. It’s okay, I-”
“You’re not okay, you’re crying,” his voice is filled with concern, and judged by the noises in the background you can tell he’s walking while on the phone. “Let me take care of you”.
You agree, but feel guilty immediately afterwards once you realize that he probably left everything he was doing just to meet you. You didn’t ask him to, but he showed up a couple of minutes later, picked you up and drove you to your apartment, staring at you from the side every now and then just to see if you were okay.
“I’m sorry,” you exhaled. “I overreacted, I don’t know why I cried like that and I- just wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t mean to worry you, it’s really not a big deal. I’m just stressed over college and that’s it”.
“You’re rambling,” he cuts you off, sweetly and delicately as he always does. It’s not that he doesn’t want to listen to you, because he always does, but he knows you have this habit of rambling whenever you’re anxious. “I drove all the way here because I wanted to be with you”.
“Yeah but-”
“Hamburger or pizza?”
“Huh?”
“What are you craving for dinner?” Seungmin has always said he is not very good with emotions, but you disagree —he might not be one to use words, but his actions always speak louder. “I’m craving pizza, but I don’t know if you’re down for that”.
“Pizza is good,” you reply. “But let me- I just want to apologize, really. I feel so fucking silly for throwing a tantrum like a child”.
“Child’s tantrums are way worse,” he interrupts you, but his voice is so soft and delicate that you can barely hear it over your rushed, disorganized speech.
“My point is that I’m sorry for crying on the phone like that. You didn’t need to do all this, and now I feel awful. It’s just college stress, nothing I can’t handle”.
“And my point is that I know you can handle everything, as you always do,” he reassures you, turning to face you at a red light, “but I want to help you handle everything, too. If you call me crying, I don’t see why I can’t rush out to you and take care of you, it doesn’t matter the reason behind those cries”.
There's a lump in your throat that threatens to make you cry again, but this time for all the opposite reasons. You’ve never felt this safe and loved until you met him.
“So pizza it is?”
He drives to your favorite pizza place and orders take out —the sky is getting grey, and the wind is getting chill so he would rather have dinner at the coziness of your apartment. You both eat, unwind, talk about your day prior to meet each other, and enjoy the company that you desperately needed today.
“I think I’m going to take a shower,” you inform him after doing the dishes together. “I think it’ll help me sleep better”.
“Mind if I join you?” Seungmin asks you, drying his hands with a small, kitchen towel. “Both to shower and bed”.
It’s not every day you get to sleep in the very same bed as him, so you agree without thinking it twice. Knowing you’ll get to spend the night with him makes you forget about all the daily stress already, so you’re grateful he’s sharing his time with you.
“Close your eyes,” he warns you with a smile and hands full with shampoo foam. You follow his order compliantly, and the next thing you feel are his hands massaging your scalp and hair with shampoo. “Close them!”
“I’m sorry,” you giggle, closing them immediately afterwards. “I just want to see you”.
“Let me rinse this off, alright?” he guides you underneath the shower faucet and starts wiping away all the foam, delicately caressing your face while the water rinses off a whole day of stress. “Don’t open them yet, or else it’ll sting”.
It’s practically impossible to ignore his touch and body pressing against yours throughout the whole interaction, and he probably notices this too —your nipples are hard, both from the stimulation and the feeling of warm water running through your body, and you can’t help but whimper every time they rub against his bare chest.
“There,” Seungmin murmurs, encouraging you to open your eyes. The first thing you see is his gaze underneath his dark, wet hair, followed by bright smile.
You tip toe a bit to reach his pink lips, and you leave a wet peck in the corner of them. A quick, single kiss that makes Seungmin’s bright smile turn into a flirty, soft smirk.
He brushes a few wet strands of hair away from your face, and caresses your skin while tilting his head. You know he wants this, just as much as you want it too, but he probably felt too scared to make the first move, considering the wholesome moment you were sharing.
“Can I?” he’s leaning over you, with both of his hands cupping your cheeks and his lips dangerously close to yours.
“Please,” you nod, closing your eyes even before you felt him kissing you.
It starts of slow, but gets gradually deeper as he holds you tightly against him; the water is still running, but it feels ten times warmer now.
“I don’t want to ruin the moment like this,” you whisper, feeling your heart racing, “but I really want you to fuck me”.
“How could that ruin the moment?” Seungmin chuckles, guiding his hands to your ass.
“I don't know, you're being so sweet to me and all I can imagine is how it would feel to have you deep inside me right now,” you confess, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“You don’t have to imagine it, you know?” his hands guide you to turn around on your feet, and he presses his chest against your back until you’re trapped between him and the wall. You can feel his erection against your ass, and that alone has your pussy clenching around nothing, wishing it was his cock you were clenching around. “If you want, I can fuck you right here”.
You feel him kissing and nibbling at the skin on your shoulders and neck, and you immediately melt between his arms, “I want you”.
You can’t see him but, once he guides his hand to your core and feels your wetness, the soft scoff he lets out tells you he’s probably amused by your neediness. “You’re all ready for me, hm?”
You press your cheek against the cold, wall tiles, and arch your back a bit more —just enough to allow him a better access to your pussy. He places one hand on your hip, while the other guides the tip of his cock to your cunt, teasing your folds and rubbing it against your clit.
“Please fuck me,” you whine, laying both of your palms flat against the white tiles.
“Take a deep breath for me,” he latches his lips to your neck and the next thing you feel is a sudden stretch between your legs. You let out a painful moan, as you’re definitely not used to have him fucking you while standing.
It’s a challenge, really. The second you felt him entering you, your legs threatened to give up on your weight.
“Don’t worry,” Seungmin hisses once he bottoms out, feeling your walls hugging him tightly. He can feel how tense you are, trying hard to hold on to anything to prevent you from falling, “I’ll hold you tight, won’t let go of you, okay?”
You nod, barely frantically, and relax on the spot. You trust him Seungmin wholeheartedly, so you get completely carried away by the feeling of his cock hitting the right spot inside your pussy.
He reaches his hand forward, into the small space between your abdomen and the wall, and guides his fingers towards your clit, rubbing it gently while fucking you.
“J-just like that,” you moan. “I’m- I’m getting close”.
“Yeah?,” Seungmin purrs, managing to keep the pace between his thrusts and his fingers. “Come for me, then”.
You blame it on all the time you spent without being able to fuck with him because of your schedules, but truth is that Seungmin always makes you come really fast. He knows your body well enough by now, and he pleases you like no one has before. And could he not be? If he has spent hours and hours touching you, eating you out and fucking you so he can be the best at pleasing you.
“Seungmin,” you gasp, feeling your legs shaking and your mind dizzy. If you let go, you’re sure your face is going to meet the floor.
But, as if he could read your mind, he wraps his arm around you and holds you right in place, giving you all the support you needed. “Now,” he moans, “you can come”.
You finally let go between his arms, pressing your face against the wall while Seungmin takes care of everything —from helping you ride your high, to keep you standing on your feet.
He holds you while you overcome your orgasm, feeling your heart beats and the way you breath. He is close to coming as well, but you’re always his priority in moments like this.
Always so caring and sweet.
Jeongin: Physical Touch and Gifts
[19:28, You: I’m here]
[19:28, You: Where are you?]
You stare at the big, white letters on top of the entrance of the store, and you can begin to guess what this urgent meeting is all about. It’s not the first time you visit it, and it is most definitely not going to be the last, you think.
There are a couple of people inside, people who make you feel as if you’re underdressed to go jewelry shopping —not that you had clothes to match the ocassion, but you didn’t expect to end your day standing outside one of Seoul’s most expensive stores.
“Hey!” Jeongin greets you from inside, smiling widely once he spots you. He walks towards you and the brightness in his eyes tells you that he's most definitely excited about something.
“What is it?” you immeditaly asked, catching his smile.
“I stopped by and I wanted to gift you something,” he grabs your hand and guides you inside the store, following a path and turning around every other table until you reach the jewels in exhibition he’s excited about, “I didn’t know which one you liked best, and I tried to take a picture of them but the camera didn’t make them any justice”.
“What’s the occasion?”
“You,” Jeongin tilts his head. “You’re the most beautiful woman I know, and these are the most beautiful necklaces I’ve seen in my entire life. Is only fair for you to have them”.
“I don’t- These are too expensive,” you furrow your eyebrows, not knowing the final price of each and confident you're better off without that information.
“So?”
“I can’t accept one,” you shake your head. Your eyes encounter an emerald and diamond necklace that’s too stunning it caught your attention —Jeongin has good taste, you have to give him that.
But said taste it’s also very expensive, so you’re not sure that works out.
“What about all of them?”
Your eyes widen in shock, and you playfully hit him in the arm, “you’re so unserious!”
“I mean it,” the dark-haired smiles, tilting his head at you. “Either you pick the one you like the most, or I’ll buy all of them for you”.
Jeongin never gifts you things expecting anything in return —if anything, the only thing he expects when he buys you jewelry, or clothes, or anything, is that you put them to use.
You’re still not used to this kind of love language, but he tries everything to make you feel comfortable.
“Are you sure?” you hesitate, and he nods eagerly, wondering which one is the one you like best. “That one, the one with the emerald”.
“Pretty,” he smiles, “just like you”.
He takes care of the bill, and you keep on staring at the rest of the jewelry exhibited around the store. To be honest, you’re curious about the price, but you’d rather stay ignorant than feeling guilty about the money he spends on you.
Then, Jeongin sees you admiring a bracelet for quite some time, and he makes a mental note to go back and buy it for you on the next occasion. He knows love can be expressed in many, many ways, but a gift is never out of place.
“Let’s go back to my place, yeah?” he asks you, grabbing your hand as you walk through the mall. “I can pick up dinner and we can spend the night together, what do you say?”
“Sounds good to me,” you smile, trying to keep up the pace with his long legs.
Once you get home, and you unwind together, Jeongin brings the small, white bag with the red, velvet box inside it. You saw the necklace on your way to his apartment, but you didn’t try it on.
“It’s beautiful,” you whisper, admiring the shine of it from every angle. “I’m not- sure how to style it”.
“Pretty sure you’ll find a way,” Jeongin smiles with his eyes fixed on the jewel. “You make everything look pretty”.
“Thank you,” your gaze meets his, and you can tell how sincere and genuine he is. Your heart skips a bit when you spot that spark in his eyes again, and your curiosity makes you question him once again. “What?”
“Let me put it on you,” he tells you, standing up from the dinner table and walking towards you, taking away the velvet box off of your hands, “come here”.
You follow him into his room, that’s barely illuminated because of the street lights and a small lamp on top of his nightstand. You stand in front of a big, full-length mirror, and he stands right behind you, holding the necklace with one of his hands while he makes eye contact with you through the mirror.
“Wait, just let me-,” he motions for you fix your hair out of the way, and once you’re done he he places the necklace around you. “There”.
The necklace is very, very pretty on you. So pretty that, for a minute, you completely forget about the outfit you’re wearing, and how it doesn’t match Jeongin’s gift at all.
“Thank you,” you chant again, caressing the jewel as you watch it become your most prized possession. “It’s just- beautiful. I don’t want to take it off, ever”.
“Then don’t,” he murmurs, placing a kiss on your naked shoulder. “Wear it all the time, let everyone know who gave it to you”.
You turn around on your feet and wrap your arms around his neck with a cheeky smile. “What for?”
“So everyone can know you’re mine,” his siren eyes are staring deep into yours, and that alone is enough to arouse you. Not only that, but the implied possessiveness under these kind of gifts is making you feel some kind of way.
“Everyone knows I am yours already,” you whisper, leaning in for a kiss. “I don’t need to wear a necklace for that”.
“But it’s fun, isn’t it?” Jeongin asks you, “everytime you feel the necklace around your neck, you can think of those times where my hands have done the job”.
You feel the heat rising up to your cheeks almost immediately, and you wonder if he can tell.
“The necklace is very pretty, but you like my hands way more, don’t you?” again, the filthy question makes you a bit timid, but you still nod.
“See? I don’t need expensive jewels to be happy,” you chuckle softly, planting a quick kiss on his lips. He responds the kiss with one much more steamy, one that actually makes you gasp for air in between.
“So what is it that you need, hm?” he teases you, cupping either side of your face with his big hands.
“You know what,” the complicit smile on your lips is the consent Jeongin needs to guide his hand from your face to your neck, squeezing it slightly as he applies pressure to the sides of it. The harder he chokes you, the wider you smile.
“Is this enough to make you happy?” judged by his cold gaze, and the deeper tone of his voice, you know you have Jeongin exactly where you want him.
“I’m missing something else,” you quietly murmur, just as much as his grip around your neck allows you to. “Can you give it to me?”
“What is it that you’re missing?” he asks you, a twisted smile peeking through the corners of his lips, “tell me, and I’ll give it to you”.
Jeongin knows exactly what you’re talking about, and what you’re referring to, but he menas every word he says. If there’s something you’re missing, he’d travel the whole world just to give it to you. If there’s something you want, all you have to do is ask.
“Your cock,” you finally tell him.
In the blink of an eye, you’re both naked in his bed and he’s hovering over you, positioning himself between your legs while he bites his bottom lip. You’re still wearing the necklace, as a request for him, and it feels somewhat heavy on your chest. It will probably weight heavy from now on, everytime you wear it, because it will remind you of how good of a lover Jeongin is to you.
“It looks so good on you,” he hisses, coating the tip of his cock with your slick. You’re so slippery, and warm, and inviting that he can’t spend another second without being buried deep inside your pussy. “You- look so good like this, with your legs spread for me”.
You moan at his words, wrapping your legs around his waist and forcing him to bottom out inside you, desperately wanting to feel all of himself.
“F-fuck”.
“So tight,” Jeongin whispers, closing his eyes while assimilating the stimulation your body provides.
He starts off slow and only goes rougher once he’s sure you’re ready for it. He wraps his hand around your neck and chokes you while fucking your pussy, admiring the diamond resting on top of your bouncing breasts.
The necklace is even prettier like this, he thinks.
“Right there,” you gasp, closing your eyes shut while your orgasm hits you unexpectedly. You writhe underneath him, digging your nails on his biceps. He fucks you even faster through your orgasm, making you spill a tear or two —not only he is a good lover, but he fucks oh, so well too.
You moan his name over and over again, thanking him in between. The ravages of your high are hitting you, as well as the painful overstimulation, but you don’t want him to stop. You want him to come inside you, to fill you up until he’s leaking out; however Jeongin has other plans in mind.
“Can I- come, on you?”
You’re not sure what he means, as he usually finishes inside you, but you still nod desperately, wanting whatever it is that he wants.
So he thrusts himself inside you a couple of times before pulling out, kneeling over you while stroking his cock and driving himself to his orgasm. You stare at him with dreamy eyes, aroused by the heavenly sight he’s offering you —there’s something enticing about his facial features when he comes, how they sharpen and his eyes get pitch black.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath as he comes over your breasts, spilling his hot cum all over them and the necklace.
You didn’t understand his petition until now, that you realize the diamond is covered with his arousal, glistening even brighter under the dim lights of his room.
“You made a mess,” you chuckle, staring at your tits.
“I just wanted to make sure you're going to remember who gave you this”.
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