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#ITS THE SMALL THINGS THAT WILL HEAL YOU
cerise-on-top · 14 days
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Hiya! May I ask for a fluff alphabet for Price, if you haven't done that already. Since I saw in a recent post you only do 8-9 letters at a time now (which is okay!), may I specifically ask for: A, B, C, F, G, H, N, & Q? Thank you! 💗
Hey there! Sure you can! I've been in the mood to write something for Price anyway, so this came at a good time ^^
Fluff Alphabet for Price
A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?
On the one hand, he really loves going out to do something with you. Something along the lines of the occasional short hike, taking care of your shared garden or even just taking a stroll through the city, taking in all the sights and finding new ones you weren’t previously aware of. Those are things he likes to do when he’s been home for a while now. However, if he’s gotten home not too long ago then he’d much rather just stay in and sleep a little bit. Will want to cuddle you or just have you be his background noise. Don’t be mad at him if he dozes off while you’re watching a movie together, he’s just extremely tired and needs that rest.
B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
He admires how resilient you are. Price knows that life isn’t easy, that it always makes an effort to throw one impossible thing after another at you, but you never seem to give up. No matter how rough life gets, no matter how often it knocks you down, you always get up, dust yourself off and continue to smile. Even if it really took its toll on you, you strive to make your life better. Although it may get you down when you’ve had the worst day of your life, you still won’t stay down forever. You do what you can, and that’s what Price loves about you.
C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?
When you’re sad he’ll give you a hug, provided you’re okay with it. He’s a very good hugger, his hugs are very comforting and warm. Afterwards he’ll put on your favorite movie or series and watch it with you. If enough time has passed and you still feel down, then he’ll cook something you really like. Although he knows he can’t make the sadness go away forever, he’ll try to temporarily cheer you up. If you need to talk, if you need some advice, he’s also your man. If you have a panic attack then he’ll try to calm you down by taking you to a location with few people. Price can talk for a while if he needs to, so he’ll ask you to focus on his voice. Might also give you a rather simple task to take your mind off of things, such as counting backwards from 100.
F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?
If it’s you, then he would forgive pretty easily, as long as it’s not something too big. If you accidentally knock down a mug he likes, then he might sigh and be annoyed, but he’ll forgive you. If you cheat on him, then he won’t. He’s usually calm and collected, even while fighting. Sure, he could be aggressive towards you and snap at you, but he loves you, so he tries not to. It’s sort of obvious when he is annoyed, his sentences become much shorter and he’ll actively try to get away from you. Won’t yell at you, won’t do any erratic movements either, but if he’s too angry then he’ll simply walk away from you until he’s calmed down.
G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?
Yes, he is aware and he is very grateful. How could he not be? You have the patience of a saint when it comes to him. He knows it’s rough to be with someone who is part of the military, he’s away more often than not, but you still decided to stay with him. You cook for him when he’s tired, you draw him a bath when he’s sore, you reassure him when he feels like you deserve better than him. You’re so much more than what he deserves, he doesn’t feel like he could ever repay you for everything you’re doing for him. He tries, though, but it’s never enough. Price could give you the universe and it wouldn’t suffice.
H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?
Aside from the obvious, such as military intel, he doesn’t really hide anything from you. Price doesn’t see the point in keeping secrets from you. You’re together, aren’t you? You deserve to know just about anything about him. He might not tell you everything from the get go, but once you’re close enough you can ask him about anything. You wanna know about his time as a private? Sure. How he came to be a captain? Yeah, he can talk about it. Just ask and he’ll likely tell you. But in the same vein he hopes that you trust him enough to tell him just about anything as well.
N icknames - What do they call their s/o?
He doesn’t really use very many nicknames. Just the classic ones, such as “love”, “sweetheart” and “dear”. Sometimes he feels the urge to call you “sunshine”, but he usually represses that since that’s what he’s called his soldiers before. As much as it would fit you, he tries not to bring work home. He likes to call you by your name too, though. But aside from that there’s nothing he really calls you.
Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.
He can keep calm in just about any situation, so he won’t lash out on you. He has an air of authority to him, so it’s not too often that someone is being a dick to him. And that extends to you as well. Price is a well respected man, so not very many people will come up to you and demand something from you. You, too, will be respected by most people, he’ll make sure of that. Regardless of whether you’re shy and timid or loud and boisterous, no one will bad mouth you. Price can fight, he will protect you. He will also fight for your honor if he needs to. He may have self restraint most of the time, but no one should ever talk badly about his partner.
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musubiki · 6 months
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recently thinking about the concept of a new npc/semi-cryptid healer character: a little (REALLY little) old lady who rides around on a giant animal (boar or something) whose....family(??) has a long history of healing talents through accupuncture, herbal remedies, pressure points, chiropractic things, etc.
the family line/line of practice has a history of very long life BECAUSE of the healing practices, so this little old lady is maybe...150? 170? years old??? shed be the healer the guild goes to, since her remedies are BETTER than mochis magic AND limes tech junk, she can help any one of them without problem
but the odd thing about her is that shes NOT a witch, weirdly. her healing is 100% natural, which means it works on those with high magic res, since it has nothing to do with magic.
i also think the family history would have this weird relationship with witches, where theyre willing to heal them (for a price of course), but they absolutely REFUSE to give their secrets to any witch. "You'll just make it better and put us out of a job." they always say, so even mochi doesnt know what the hell is in that soup shes eating, all she knows is that its capable of instantly restoring 90% of her magic (5 day cooldown before she can drink it again though, lest she die)
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goldiipond · 1 year
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i adore thinking about the fucked up tpn stuff that was either not considered during the writing process or deliberately left unexplored.
tpn really said 'each house has about 6 shipments and receives about 6 new children to replace them each year. the minimum age a child can be shipped out is 6. tpn begins with conny's shipment in october, after which dominic is the only remaining 6 year-old at the house' without even considering the implications of that. how about 'we know literally nothing about anyone from the age group between anna+nat's and thoma+lanni's groups because theyre all gone by the time the story starts' also literally no one ever brings them up. or my personal favorite of 'isabella painstakingly hand-made little bunny for conny's 6th birthday. conny turned 6 in september, about a month before she was shipped out' like do you think isabella was at least a little pissed about that. i like to think she was
#skye's ramblings#its totally my love of unexplored side characters but. i do get a little unwell over dominic sometimes#like. hello??? its like a well-established thing that kids in the same age group usually have closer bonds w eachother than others#youare telling me. he watched all 5 of what were probably his closest friends leave in the span of a year. this is what you are telling me#i mean maybe yvette could be considered part of his age group since they were technically born the same year??#but her birthday is also literally new years eve n shes usually grouped in w the 5 year-olds as a result#also the shipment record in the anime says that hao and sadie were 6 but the 2 kids that left before them were 7#so maybe dominics age group was just particularly small but. he still watched them all leave in a very short amount of time#canot imagine how his conversation w don and gilda abt the escape went. god this series can fit so much childhood trauma in it#also w how close thoma and lanni are dominic and conny were also probably really close due to being the only ones left of their group#thinking abt don n dominic bonding amd sharing happy memories of conny. ijust live for older/younger gracefield kid interactions#also shamelessly stealing rachels hc of ray using his photograpic memory to share happy memories of everyone who died at gracefield#ithink dominic would really like hearing abt his friends from ray. especially happy/funny stuff he was too young to remember#and also literally any interaction w ray n the younger kids is everything to me. oh hes healing hes a good big brother... dont talk to me#'this is all most likely just a plothole' well where you see a plothole i see a GOLDMINE OF TRAUMA AND CHARACTER DYNAMIC EXPLORATION. anywa
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oasisofgalaxies · 11 months
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did we make the right choice? was there a chance that if we made him live we could have found another way out? i cant tell if it was a mercy or if we just gave up.
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lux-scriptum · 24 days
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spikeinthepunch · 3 months
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one of the worst side effects of people not accepting that a character they like can just be awful is that them not accepting it makes them soften up the character into them just not being bad at all, or downplaying said bad stuff- esp if there is trauma involved. and yes sorry im thinking about astarion as i write this but--
its understandable some bad characters have some tragic history and you want to focus on it, but when the fandom sees those little part they take it as 1) the source of the bad, and thus the reason for their actions and thus makes it okay to like them 2) in order to avoid the discussion about the bad character just being bad, they put focus on this whole thing about trauma or tragedy and the discussion of morals about the character rather than just accepting the character in present is still a shitbag.
there is room for all that cool discussion about the trauma and whatever but the problem is that you are not even doing that discussion well because you are ignoring them being a shitbag!!!!! if your shitty guy has trauma hes still a shitty guy and thats that! its like people want to hold onto the relatable trauma part but push away the shitty personality because they also cannot accept that the shitty guy is a victim that they relate to. get uncomfortable. there are a lot of trauma victims arent pretty or cool or nice and there are 100% gonna be times where you CANNOT change the core of that person who is shitty.
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everyone look at my current snow au tubbo design. he's just a miserable little guy
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biteapple · 6 months
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i do also feel like The Pale Beyond holds your hand TOO much in some aspects but not enough in others
#there are parts in the story where literally a popup appears telling you why one of your traits made a character say something to you#and thats something i would MUCH rather like. interpret or figure out on my own. in a story-based game#and also makes like ... makes me feel like i can SEE behind the curtain of the game. that should be secret to me.#let ME think about why someone said something or did or didnt do something. dont TELL me why in a convenient popup#and in some parts of the game doing certain actions seemingly arbitrarily ends the day or is final when i really wish the game was like#just a small sentence telling me what actions are progression-based and what aren't. SOME of them are color-coded but not all#there was one point where the game was like ''you can choose one of these'' and then prompted me to assign someone to something#so i thought *I* could choose one and assign a person to another because a prior event had me do that#and me assigning the person WAS my one action. just wish it was clearer in some aspects in wording its finality.#espectially when it mirrors what the game has taught me prior and then does the opposite of what the expected outcome is#there are certain mechanics that feel unfair where (potential spoilers ahead) you can assign people to the med bay to rest but...#if there's open beds and you forgot to assign someone else into the bay you're out of luck and cant pull up the menu again#like. why cant i? the engineering panel allows me to pull it up again. as does the cooking pot. as does every other panel. why not this one#that specifically just feels like an oversight. that among OTHER things#like special items not proccing twice when they should#there's one item that when warming up freezing crewmates#the engineers will warm 2 instead of 1. but. if you assign two engineers to the task the same time#then they'll only heal 3 people total because the code accounts for the action preformed not the amount of engineers assigned to the action#and if you assign them in succession they'll do it successfully. which is annoying to have to remember and a huge oversight
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the urge to infodump about gameplay to my friend who started as a tank is definitely because i love talking about the game and NOT because im a healer main who is... so tired
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wishful-seeker · 8 months
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Tips on how to avoid being unintentionally ableist
1. When a disabled person says they cannot do something, and you wish to offer solutions, do not make a solution that involves them powering through pain, or something thats not accessible to the disabled.
Example:
Disabled person: "washing dishes hurts too much and i cannot do it."
Abled person: "what if you did one dish at a time throughout the day?"
This statement is not respecting that this disabled person just said they "can't". Always respect that. No matter how simple the task would be for you.
Disabled person:" i think ill use plastic silverware so i don't make dishes."
Abled person: "plastic is bad for the environment!"
This statement shuts down the most accessible and disabled friendly option that this disabled person can actually do because of the abled persons personal beliefs. This is not helpful, and ableist.
Better yet, instead of offering solutions, ask them directly "is there anything you need that you do not have that would help you do this?" This allows the disabled person to think about what would work, and they will always have a better idea of what would work than you do.
To add on to this, when we say we have no more energy to solve a problem or do a task, or change our lifestyle, we mean it.
2. If you feel discomfort when a disabled person is talking about their health, good and bad, that is ableist. Your discomfort is coming from a place that deams disabled peoples very existence as a bad thing and you need to fix that.
For example:
Disabled person:" this week has been rough pain wise, ive been through a lot, felt like my body was on fire. Lucky i got new meds though and i think they're helping!"
Abled person: "can we talk about something else, this is a bummer."
Disabled people should be able to exist freely without worrying about your personal comfort. Do you really think its appropriate to tell someone in constant pain that their life is making YOU uncomfortable?
3. Do not treat disabled people as tragedies, do not romanticize their old life or put their current one down.
For example:
Disabled person: "yeah my life is pretty difficult sometimes, ive lost a lot but i still have happy moments."
Abled person: "it makes me so sad to see what disabled people go through :(. You used to love rock climbing and running, i would love to see you move around more again."
This statement is putting more value on the disabled persons abled past, and ignoring their life as a whole.
4. Do not avoid speaking to disabled people because it hurts to see your loved one disabled.
For example: my grandmother avoids conversations with me because it hurts her to see me in pain. While she has good intentions it leaves me being unable to be close to her. This is very isolating to the disabled.
5. Do not stop inviting your disabled friend/loved one out even if they are never well enough to attend. Unless we specifically ask you to stop asking if we can go out, good chances are we want to know you still care because again, disability is very isolating.
6. When a disabled person says certain things in their health have gotten better or worse, do not challenge this because you don't see a difference.
For example:
Disabled person: "yeah things are getting a little better"
Abled person sees disabled person using their wheelchair like usual: "i thought you said you were getting better?"
Better and worse are usually small changes only the disabled experience, its not like abled people healing from a broken arm. Better to a disabled person could mean they can stand for 10 more minutes.
7. Do not expect disabled people to ever be abled again, and again, do not put more value on an abled life.
For example:
Disabled person:"I have been using a wheelchair for 2 years."
Abled person: "oh you're young, im sure you'll be walking around in no time!"
This statement invalidates and ignores the disabled persons current life by hoping they get a more abled bodied life. Its fine to hope disabled people get better, but you don't get to decide what better looks like.
Hope this helps, stay punk.
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child stars/idols etc. when your comeback as older flops its not because youre not young anymore. it’s because the exploitation of your younger years robbed you of autonomy and persona of your own. so now after the label which used you can’t and won’t anymore you don’t have what most normal people have, themselves, to present.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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tatted
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words: 1k
warnings: established relationship, husband!rafe, tattoos
“mmm, good morning wifey.” rafe pulls you in closer to him, legs tangled together under the blanket.
“i’ll never get sick of hearing you call me that.” you smile, pressing a kiss to rafes chest as you snuggle into him, the morning light illuminating the room.
you’re both still on vacation mode, having just gotten back from your honeymoon two days ago. “i wish i didn’t have to get up, but i’ve got an appointment, baby.” “wait, what?” you whine, picking your head up. “you didn’t say anything about a doctors appointment.” your bottom lip pouts out, making rafe lean forward to kiss the frown off your face. 
“don’t worry, we will spend all day together as soon as i get back.” rafe slides himself out from underneath you, quickly heading to the closet to get dressed. he waited as long as possible to get out of bed, not wanting to part from you, but now having to rush out the door.
“mmm, i’ll probably stay in bed all day.” your body was still on maldives times, not even bothering to readjust to being back in the outer banks.
“perfect.” rafe leans over the bed, giving a kiss goodbye. “no need for my wife to even lift a finger.”
you smile at rafe, cupping his jaw to give him a firm kiss. “come home soon, i miss you already hubby.” 
--
“that was a long doctors appointment.” you frown as rafe reenters the house. you eventually dragged yourself out of bed, taking a shower and eating what you considered breakfast despite it being past noon.
“you know, darling” rafe says as he toes his shoes off, leaving them in the foyer. “i just said appointment, nothing about doctors.”
“what other type of appointments are there?” your brow furrows together as rafe joins you on the couch.
“tattoo.” rafe says with a shrug, making your eyes widen.
“you-you got a tattoo?” 
rafe raises his left hand. you finally realize he has a clear wrap covering his fingers. you take his hand gently in yours, looking through the film at the first letter of your name, complimented by a small heart on his ring finger.
“i’ll put the ring back on once it’s healed, but just in case i ever have to take it off, i need everyone to know that i’m still yours.” rafe says, waiting for your reaction.
“i love you.” you finally manage to get out, melting into rafe, making sure not to press against his hand as the red skin heals.
--
“i’ve got something for you baby!” rafe calls out, smiling as you skip into the kitchen.
“what is it?” you question, tilting your head to the side, expecting rafe to be holding something in his arms, but instead he lifts his loose sleeve, revealing fresh ink on his inner bicep. 
“whats it say?” you quickly move closer to read the script, eyes filling with tears when you realize that rafes newest tattoo is your wedding vows.
“oh.” you cover your mouth. “rafey, this is so sweet. i love it.” you press your lips against his. rafe clearly saw your reaction to the first tattoo, the way your eyes tracked over it whenever he moved his hands, the way you were practically begging to be fingered with just his tattooed finger, watching it disappear inside of you, the cold press of his ring against your cunt.
“love having reminders of the best day of my life on my body.” rafe never viewed himself as a tattoo guy, seeing himself as too indecisive, but his mind quickly changed when he realized they could all be dedicated to you, the one constant, the one steady thing in his life.
--
“i’m thinking about getting another tattoo.” rafe hums. its been a couple months and the script on his forearm is now fully healed. 
“really?” you hum. “what are you thinking, my name on your dick?” you joke, but rafe still cringes thinking about the needle dragging over his sensitive skin.
“definitely not. i was thinking your eyes on the back of my neck.” rafe turns, rubbing his hand over the area he was thinking.
“wouldn’t that hurt a lot?” you ask with a pout, but rafe just shrugs.
he makes an appointment the very same day, looking through all the pictures he has saved of you until he finds the perfect one. you’re smiling at him on the other side of the table on your two year anniversary of dating. 
he shows it off to you a week later, and you’re surprised how much you like it, kissing down his spine when you help him take his shirt off before looking at yourself in the eyes, but in tattoo form.
--
rafe won’t admit it to you, but he’s addicted to getting tattoos, wanting to cover his body in everything and anything relating to you. he does end up getting a few others, mostly to fill up what he feels are blankspots, a smattering of patchwork tattoos covering his body, along with a few more dedicated to you.
“rafey?” you call to him as he comes home, his hand now wrapped in clear plastic. 
“hey baby.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you eye the wrap until rafe turns his hand to reveal that he has the word married across the side, yet another reminder of your union.
“i was actually thinking…” you mumble before trailing off, not restarting your sentence until rafe nods at you to continue, looking at you expectantly. “i was actually thinking of getting a tattoo myself. just the letter r on my ring finger. to match yours.” 
you twist your ring on your hand shyly, not sure if rafe would like the idea of you getting tattoos. you’ve never shown any interest in getting them yourself, but you’ve had to take your ring off enough times to swim or wash dishes and don’t want to be without that reminder of rafe even for a short amount of time.
rafes smile stretches across his cheeks. “i thought you’d never ask, wifey.”
rafe sets an appointment for you with his favorite tattooer before you can second guess yourself.
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peachsayshi · 2 months
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✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ blessings ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
↬ summary: nanami kento tries to be the perfect husband and father but when a tough night fighting curses ends badly it results in nanami snapping at his daughter. 
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬・tags: nanami x female reader; hurt/comfort; nanami has a daughter; domestic drama; being a jujutsu sorcerer is hard; momotarō is a famous Japanese folk tale :c ↬・ wc: 3,383
↬ notes: hi, everyone! I'm currently not really active at the moment so please don't feel disheartened if I haven't been responding to your messages or tagged posts. I'm taking a small break and only coming online for a bit to catch up on some messages, read fics or queue posts. I'll be back to properly posting and interacting soon but in the meantime I wanted to share that I finished up this draft over the weekend. I was actually debating if I should post this but then just decided to go for it! sending all my love xx
nanami’s head is heavy, completely clouded with despair, and it tints his brown eyes a shade of murky gray. the walls of his beautiful home feel narrow, almost claustrophobic, which explains why he’s struggling to catch his breath right now. stepping into the hallway, he instinctively peeks into the dining area to find you and his daughter eating dinner together. she’s sitting on the chair, her legs far too short to even touch the ground, holding a half eaten onigiri between her small hands. you are by her side, sneakily tidying up after her as you brush away the stray beads of rice trickling onto the table. 
a little glow blooms in nanami’s heart at the sight of you both but there is a vicious creature residing in the pit of his stomach that veils the bright light away. 
he quietly takes off his jacket, his bruised fingers loosening the tie around his neck. he clears his throat before announcing with exhaustion to you both that he’s finally home. 
your eyes meet his, the muscles on your face falling immediately. he can practically feel the blood rushing through your veins as worry washes over you. the reaction makes his chest uncomfortably tight, but he knows that he can’t hide his expressions around you like he used to. 
you both move together so fluidly now, like a single body of water that ebbs and flows to its own natural current. 
he escaped the night’s fight with a few cuts and a couple of bad bruises, but there is currently a student on shoko’s table who barely made it through. the young man arrived at jujutsu tech only a couple of weeks ago, but his naive and charismatic qualities turned into fatal flaws in the world of sorcery.
he bit off more than he could chew by trying to take on a special grade curse.  
shoko promised nanami that she would heal the boy, but admitted there was only so much she can do in regards to the aftermath of his injuries. the sorcerer couldn’t bare to leave him behind, but gojo refused that he stay and insisted that he return back home to his pretty wife and adorable daughter immediately. 
“I’ll handle things from here,” is what his superior said, while nanami’s guilt climbed up his throat. 
that student was his responsibility... 
...and he failed him entirely. 
“papa’s home!” his daughter chirps. the pitch of her voice ringing in nanami’s ears to pull him back to the present and far away from the scene where life and death were dancing together in a tango.  “papa, look, look...mama and I made onigiri!” 
her feet bounces up and down, and there’s a touch of a pink against her cheeks when her mouth stretches into a beaming grin. the innocence in her eyes makes nanami falter and he can feel himself falling deeper into the abyss. for a minute he resents himself for selfishly bringing such a beautiful thing into this world, only to gamble with the fact that she may potentially be in his shoes one day. 
he begs for that outcome to never happen, beseeches whatever higher power above him that exists to spare her from this life. she should never have to go through this, never have to experience these heartbreaks that only wither a person down. 
“I can see that,” nanami replies in a low voice before shifting his attention to his feet. 
right now, he can’t stomach an ounce of her purity, and it radiates around her like a halo. she's so unbothered by his presence, so completely unaware of the sudden change in the atmosphere around her... 
“we made tuna, salmon, and veggies...” she babbles on. 
“how nice...” nanami curtly interrupts, before anxiously running his fingers through the strands of his messy blonde hair. 
“which one do you want, papa?” she questions eagerly, pointing her sticky hands at the plate to show off the selection of triangles. 
“sweets,” you interject just as nanami turns on his heel to walk in the other direction, “how about we finish up eating our dinner, and we can save some for your daddy tomorrow...”
“nooo!” she whines far too loudly, which forces nanami to stop dead in his tracks. he glances over his shoulder to see her puffing out her bottom lip with disappointment, “you said...you said we make it so we eat together!” 
she’s only six. 
she can’t perceive that her father is struggling to hold himself together. deep down inside nanami knows that, but it isn’t enough to keep his cool. he doesn’t know why his daughter’s insistence causes him to pinch the front of his brows with annoyance or why he shoots a frustrated look in her direction. 
he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly picturing shoko calling the student’s parents to deliver the news that the man who was supposed to protect their child was unsuccessful in his duty. 
he doesn’t know why he feels at fault for everything that happened, even though the circumstances of the events were completely out of his control.  
he doesn’t know why he’s imagining himself on the receiving end of a very similar call, or why he can’t stop picturing his precious daughter on that table instead…
all of this pummels into him, and the monster emerges out from it’s cave.  
“be quiet and stop making such a fuss.” 
his voice comes out sharper than expected, and the expulsion of his frustration allows him to see the crystal clear picture before him. 
the room is dead silent. 
your face is in full shock at the hissing tone of your sweet husband snapping at his darling baby girl who he only ever speaks to with a gentle voice. 
what truly unravels nanami is the look that his daughter is giving him - her angelic features are sullen, but her eyes remain wide with surprise. her bottom lip is slack, and the only sound he can hear is her uneasy breathing. her eyes, the most beautiful gems in existence, twinkle as tears begin to form and she tries to quickly blink them away before turning her attention back to her plate.  
nanami doesn’t know he managed to stop time itself but the three of you remain frozen in place. 
he regrets his words immediately. 
he wants nothing more than to pull his precious girl close into his chest and smother her with apologies. the part of him with sense tells him to follow through and make things right with her, but instead he begrudgingly continues to wallow in his own self pity as he walks over to his room. 
・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・
the house is unusually quiet now, the music of domestic joy morphing into hushed murmurs and whispers outside your room door. you settle your crestfallen daughter into her bedroom before moving to check on your husband next. 
fresh out of the shower, nanami is seated on the edge of the bed with his exhausted eyes pressed firmly into the palms of his hands. he exhales a heavy breath, his dirty work clothes still piled just outside the bathroom, and your heart nearly collapses seeing him in such a state of disarray.
you kneel before him, two hands sliding across the soft material of his sweats as you brush them along his thighs before carefully bringing them up to circle around his wrists. 
“kento?” 
he allows you to pull his palms away but your throat constricts when a band forms tightly around your neck. you swallow the lump with an upturn of your brows as you are greeted with red, exhausted eyes. you cup that handsome face in your hands, your thumbs sweetly motioning back and forth across his cheeks as you try to soothe the tension away. 
after all this time together, it hurts you to see that he still tries to hide his tears. nanami constantly holds himself to the highest standard, always ensuring that he can solidify himself as the rock for you and your daughter to depend on through thick and thin. it’s so rare for you to see him crack, to watch him crumble under the overbearing weight of the things that he is burdened to carry. 
“you had a rough night,” you point out in a low, sympathetic voice and he simply just nods his head in acknowledgement. 
his eyes flutter close again when you lean forward to press a tender, reassuring kiss on his brow. “you want a talk about it?” 
the way his voice shakes makes you shiver, but you tentatively listen as he relays the events of the night before finally concluding that satoru called him only a few minutes ago to reassure him that the student in question is alright. 
“he lost an eye, but at least he’s alive...” he concludes somberly, the warble in his final statement prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a protective hug. 
nanami receives it with gratitude, strong arms circling around your waist as he buries his nose into the crook of your shoulder and breathes in.
your scent is a reminder of his permanent sanctuary.
a safety, a reassurance of home.
you stroke his blonde locks between your fingers until he exhales, "i'm so sorry," he breathes, "I...I didn't mean to snap like that..."
a tiny smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you unravel yourself to cup his jaw into your palms once again. "I appreciate the apology, but I don't think I should be on the receiving end of it..." you hint sweetly.
nanami closes his eyes guiltily. "I'm a horrible father."
you click your tongue with disappointment, your face falling as your disapproval pinches between the space of your brows.
"you're just human," you remind him defensively, "you're a wonderful father, the best man that our daughter can look up to"
"did you see the look on her face?" he replies, his voice unnaturally small. the tender expression he gives you is filled with regret, and it's enough to make your heart ache all over again.
"kento," you contend, "don't do this to yourself. we're both going to have days where we mess up, but that doesn't mean that the problem can't be fixed."
you thread his hair between your fingers, like your brushing through rays sunlight. "she's waiting for me to read her a bedtime story," you explain, "but I'm sure she would rather be with you instead..."
"I doubt that," your husband replies as he reaches for your hand to kiss the inside of your palm.
"we will always love you, kento," you answer back, "unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"
he didn't even know how desperately he needed to hear that, for your certainty to remedy away all his sorrows, until they actually left your lips.
your husband's throat tightens, tears pricking his eyes once more but he hides them away when he leans in to seek out a kiss from the woman whose heart he deeply adores.
・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・
nanami leans his shoulder against the frame of his daughter's room. his heart patters lightly, making him realize that he might actually be nervous. it's strange, he thinks, that he would feel hesitant to approach his own child considering that he was her guardian but nanami had never allowed his professional life to fracture into his personal one like this before.
she's seated on the floor next to a pile of books and her stuffed rabbit secured tightly underneath her arm. there's a warmth in his chest when when he makes note of the soft toy, because he purchased that himself the day she was born and the pair have been inseparable ever since.
he clears his throat, bringing his scuffed knuckles to gently knock on the door.
"my love?" he calls out to her.
his daughter perks up, her breathing changing slightly as it rises and falls with a hint of apprehension. she glances over her shoulder to see him.
"where's mama?" she asks, her question shattering the man into a million pieces at her subtle dismissal.
"taking a shower," he answers cooly, "but I'm here to get you ready for bed..."
her lovely eyes refuse to lock into his own, and she simply tucks her lip between her bottom teeth to avoid giving nanami a reply.
she looks so much like him when he was a child. he remembered when his parents used to scold him too, and how he would also hide away in his room. the only difference is that nanami's parents were far more traditional - a time where elders were never submissive to young hearts.
"may I come in?" he requests politely, ensuring that his daughter knew she had a choice if she wanted to speak to him.
her nostrils flare slightly while she considers him, but to his relief she nods her head eagerly.
nanami steps into her room, always feeling largely out of place amongst her things. "did you find a story for bed?" he asks.
she again quietly nods her head and picks up her favorite book; a compilation of japanese folktales with beautiful illustrations. you both have been reading one for her each night ever since she got it it as a present from her grandparents.
he crouches on his knees to meet her at eye level. "you've really been enjoying this one, haven't you?" he carries on, hoping to coax more words out of her.
“yeah,” she replies in the same mousy voice of uncertainty. she shifts her attention away when she stands on her feet, clutching onto the stuffed bunny tightly while her other hand swings the book by her side.
“and what tale are we reading tonight?”
she shrugs her shoulders with indifference, a hint of pink blushing her cheek. “I dunno. I…I can just until mama is ready…”
nanami visibly slumps. her rejection an entirely new painful experience that he's never endured before. he scratches the back of his head anxiously, finding himself at a loss for words. the seconds pass, an awkward bubble surrounding both father and daughter. it’s only broken when nanami exhales a sigh, and reaches his hands towards her waist to draw her into his frame.
“darling,” he addresses tenderly, “can you look at me?”
“no, you were mean…” she blurts out, her bottom lip trembling slightly.
nanami’s heart sinks.
that’s the first time he’s ever heard those words from her lips.
“I know,” he murmurs shamefully.
her mouth forms into a tiny button of a pout but she meets his eyes for the first time as he acknowledges his behavior.
nanami arches forward to kiss her forehead, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, sweetheart. I’m so sorry if I upset or scared you”
she fidgets with the book in her hand. “did you not want onigiri?” she asks, her innocence tugging the corners of her father’s lips into a small grin.
“it wasn’t the onigiri, my love,” he reassures, “daddy just…had a bad day at work…”
“why was it bad?”
nanami sighs once again.
she still doesn’t know that he’s a sorcerer. you’ve both reduced his position to her by simply explaining that nanami “helps and protects people".
thankfully your daughter doesn’t pry too hard to ask any further questions.
“someone I know got hurt. so, daddy was a little shaken up when he came home…”
"shaken up?"
"scared, my love"
his daughter shakes her head in disbelief, “nu-uh, you never get scared, papa” she rebuts.
nanami huffs out a laugh, flashing her a full grin now as he brings his fingers to his chin to to ponder her sweet statement. he quirks his brow and cheekily replies, "we can't all be brave like you," in an attempt to lighten the mood.
his daughter narrows her eyes towards his hand, her mind instantly distracted with other things already. "you got hurt too papa!" she gasps, dropping the bunny by her side to point at his knuckles.
nanami glances at his fingers covered in red marks.
"wait!" she exclaims as she places the book by his side. "I have something!"
she spins on her heel and rushes towards one of her drawers. meanwhile, nanami just takes her in with his love soaked eyes, watching as she rummages through her stuff with determination until she scurries back his way.
"got it!" she squeaks with a smile, and to his surprise she jumps right into his arms with such nonchalance it nearly make him crumble on the spot.
your voice echoes in the back of his mind: "we will always love you, kento. unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"
"mama bought it for me," she explains, regaining her father's attention once more.
nanami rests his cheek on her shoulder, and inhales her powdery scent as he keeps one arm warmly secured around her waist. he watches her peel off the plaster of the band aid, lbefore grabbing his hand and placing it unevenly over his knuckles.
"now a kiss!" she adds, as she brings his hand to her mouth and exaggerates a loud "mwah" sound for emphasis. "mama says the kiss is what makes it all better"
nanami instantly feels significantly better from this remedy of love. he extends his digits out, and looks at the hot pink "hello kitty" band aid that now rests comfortably on his knuckles.
"thank you, my darling," he coos and peppers her cheek with a few kisses before turning her to face him once again. "you made me feel a lot better"
she flashes him an equally large smile in return, showing off her missing teeth.
"I did?"
nanami chuckles as he scoops her up in his arms to give her a well deserved bear hug. she laughs as he stands on his two feet, and sheds away any lingering thoughts of apprehension that may have stuck.
"you always do," he reassures, his soul vibrating back to life when he feels her return his embrace. “you think you can forgive me for how I spoke earlier?”
“yeah,” she confirms and squeezes him just a little tighter. "I love you lots, papa"
"oh, my angel," he hums, "you have no idea just how much I love you too..."
・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・
after winding down from your evening pampering session, you decide to pass by your daughter's room to check on your little family. you peer through the cracked door to find nanami spread out on your daughter’s bed, with your daughter curled into side and her head resting on his chest.
“did I come from a peach too like momotarō?” you hear her ask, but your heart flutters at the sight of your husband’s pearly whites.
you’ll never get over how much you love seeing him smile with such genuine emotion.
“no,” you hear nanami reply calmly, his finger lightly holding the page open. “you remember your mother explaining how you used to live in her stomach first?”
“oh yeah,” your daughter replies with a hint of disappointment over the fact that she was not birthed from a piece of fruit as mentioned in one of her favorite folk tales.
“shall I carry on?”
“uh-huh,” she answers and she readjusts her position to get even more comfortable. "I think if we look hard enough we might find momotarō..."
"you think so?" your husband wonders with honest curiosity.
"I know so, papa!"
"how many peaches do you think we need to check?"
"hmmm," she mumbles, "maybe a million?"
"a million?" your husband dramatically replies, "that's a lot of peaches don't you think,"
"I mean, it's less than a billion..." she responds quite matter of factly.
you catch his gaze from between the door that’s ajar. his expression fully relaxes, and you smile knowingly in his direction at the sight of father and daughter making up.
“papa?” his daughter questions upon his sudden silence, but your husband keeps his focus on you as he hums in acknowledgement before replying, "you're not wrong, but it'll still be quite a challenge to cut through a million peaches..."
"we might need some help," your daughter adds on.
you blow him a secret kiss as to not interrupt further, and quietly close the door before heading back to your bedroom.
2K notes · View notes
elliefuckinwilliams · 21 days
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How I think each Ellie would fuck you <3
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- nsfw, crying!ellie, mean!ellie, dom!ellie, ellie being so obsessed wit abby she can't fuck right
a/n: i posted this on twitter a year ago and it only got 4 likes so i brought it here <333
-jackson!ellie aka loser ellie:
☆blushing and stuttering when you get naked
☆has trouble getting the pace right but then...
☆soft loving! gentle
☆gets so overwhelmed from phantom strap she swears she can feel how tight you are
☆whimpers from the strap doing its thing
☆"you liked it...right?" after making your legs shake and your eyes roll into the back of your head
-Seattle!ellie aka pussy destroyer:
☆grunts and groans
☆no longer the gentle girl from a small town:(
☆only fucks you from behind while pushing your face down
☆rough thrust that hurt but feel so good
☆banging your head into the headboard and doesn't give af
☆ pulls out quickly when youre done and then leaves "thanks."
-farm!ellie aka the apologetic lover
☆ softly kisses your tears away
☆ apologizes for fucking you so good
☆ light groans in your ear
☆ love bites everywhere from hours of lovemaking
☆only makes you finish but not herself
☆ sits at the edge of the bed after with bad thoughts
-santa barbara!ellie aka water bender:
☆ completely silent and focused
☆ accidentally whisper abby's name
☆zoned out look
☆ starts crying about half way through
☆ somehow still makes you cum
☆ "babe i love you idk why i said her name!!"
-epilogue!ellie aka the healed
☆super vocal, talks you through it
☆ has you in different positions
☆ "fu-uck baby you feel so good"
☆has to make you finish first minimum 3 times
☆kisses you all over
☆ aftercare ♡
☆"you did so good for me baby."
2K notes · View notes
hoseoksluna · 16 days
Text
ROSÉ | jjk
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pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc
genre: smut
word count: 5.7k
summary: on your first dinner date, your boyfriend brings you a small gift—too bad you're too horny to appreciate it.
pinterest board: wine
warnings: a bit of drunkenness, a mention of inner child healing, oc teases jungkook and oc is horny as fuck, dom/sub dynamics, wine!jk, provider jk..., daddy issues, punishment, spanking, food used during intercourse, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), dirty talk, a mention of a sex toy & a mention of a plushie in a sexual context, raw sex, brattiness, jk and oc smoke together
note: OH GOD—IT'S FINALLY HERE. SLFJSLDFJS. A REQUESTED DRABBLE about wine!oc and jungkook. this was so fucking fun to write and i was so hot and bothered from this that i had to take a break............ yeah uhm anyways, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. ENJOY READING AND LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ANONYMOUSLY IN MY INBOX. I NEED YOUR THOUGHTS. PLS AND THANK YOU. ₊˚⊹♡
side note: jk in the first pic made me fucking die. and other things....
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The rosy pink nectar has, undeniably, gone to your head. 
Your empty wine glass is illuminated by the setting sunlight spilling past your shoulder, reaching its yellow, warm fingers to the tips of your boyfriend’s that rest lazily on the white cloth of the table. You’re woozy, in a lighthearted mood—so much that even the world has lost its heft and all you can sense is the sluggish process of your absorption. You’re engrossed in the way the spring coalesces with the beginning of summer—in the warm evening wind ruffling your curls, tickling your bare shoulders, in the darkening hues of the sky, pinks and violets, in the gray smoke of Jungkook’s cigarette interlacing with the slightly sultry air. You can see it in his eyes, the unfolding of it all. And perhaps you’re tipsy or perhaps you’re just brazenly and foolishly falling in love, because you’re aware that if the man weren’t sitting in front of you, none of these things wouldn’t have caught your attention in such a devastatingly profound way. 
He has made you feel so safe. By simply and beautifully laying his feelings bare. To you and for you. Created a haven for you to dwell in, for you to grow in and explore all the dark and light corners of you that have merely seldom seen the face of the sun. How could you not indulge in a little bit of alcohol, when you’re protected in that place of security? Let your girlishness swim a little, refresh herself, enjoy herself?
You’re glowing. You always had been, but your shimmers have gained a new intensity to their twinkles, keeping Jungkook’s liquid stars warm and taken care of inside of you. Their blunt points have carved you into someone else entirely, too. Joyous, cool-headed and absolutely and irrevocably self-assured. Fearless. And his hands have reached deep within and caressed the head of your inner child, healing her and washing her clean, giving her everything she ever lacked. Love, attention, care and validation. Whenever you remember that you never wanted him to get a glimpse of your soul, bile rises in your throat and your stomach hurts.
He saved you. Healed you. Through and through. Gave you his control.
It stirs your never-ending awe that he has managed to do this in a month, and you want to celebrate it. You think now is quite the perfect occasion for it as it’s your first dinner date since you’ve become exclusive. Having spent most of your time at each other’s places fucking, partying and fucking some more, it’s nice to be out, alone with him, that is—and it’s nice as fuck to be out with your boyfriend. The sex has become so different with the label and the rawness of his feelings. And the thing about Jungkook that gets you the most, that strengthens the realm he invented for you, is that once his emotions overflow, the stream of its wine doesn’t stop pouring. The moment he confessed his love for you, ever since then you sense it expressed in everything he does—in the way he greets you in the day, in his tight, burning embrace, in the tenderness with which he holds your hand or kisses it, the relentless, great thought and consideration he puts in the choices he makes for you on the daily. Whether it’s the fatuous things he buys you that mean the world to you, the way he never neglects bunny and incorporates her in everything you do together or… the sex. 
Fuck, the sex alone has taken over your life so vividly and drastically that it consumes your brain. There, in that environment, is where the wine of his emotions is the raciest. He’s not ashamed to cry, letting those liquid pearls trickle down your collarbones, quenching the thirst of his liquid stars as he fucks you dumb and enjoys every second of it. He’s not afraid to be loud either. To talk you through your orgasm with even more care and detail than you were accustomed to in the past. 
He’s become boundless. And it’s the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen in your life. 
God, you’d be crazy not to let yourself fall for him—
“I got you dessert,” Jungkook husks, digging his fingers into the pocket of his pants while his other digits draw close to his mouth. He takes a drag of his cigarette, crinkling his eyes so the smoke wouldn’t get into them and you beam at him with a fire that’s more scorching than the sun’s ever been in centuries, heart doing somersaults at the thought of him thinking of you and spending money on you again. And, also, at how hot he looks while he smokes.
Your love language must be gift-giving. You don’t know what else to connect it to, the joy that envelops your entire being whenever he gives you something. It doesn’t even have to be expensive, nor does he have to pay for it at all. Drawings have become your favorite keepsakes—drawings of his Miffy bunny, drawings of flowers, of you. You’ve hidden them away in a box along with everything he’s ever brought you, except the white bunny ring because you wear it daily and one small, particular drawing that you’ve put inside your glittery phone case. 
A cutesy marker sketch of him and you. His arm around your shoulders. Bunny sitting on your laps in the middle, as if she were your own child. Cheeks big and bubbly, pink and twinkling. Your curls the way you wear them; his mullet. A perfect depiction of the pair of you. You gaze at it every single day—prefer to now put your phone face down because of it. 
You’re tracing it now with the pad of your finger as you wait for him to reveal your mystery gift to you. The bulby heads, the cheeks, Miffy’s ears. Jungkook puts out his cigarette, puffing out the smoke, away from you, and once he’s done, he taps the back of your hand. Turns it over and spreads out your fingers, inserting, at a snail's pace, something round but slender at the same time, smiling adoringly at you. 
What a sight to behold. It steals, fleetingly, your attention away from his hand. 
Slicked back mullet, twinkles taking laps in his soft eyes, blushed cheekbones and stretched, pouty mouth, shiny with his liquid love. Long neck that you’d like to devour now, the broadness of his shoulders and chest that could come second as a plain, dark beige shirt accentuates his hard work at the gym. 
Oh, fuck. Your nipples pebble against your carmine tube top. 
Jungkook withdraws his hand and with blurry eyes, you look at the thing he placed in your palm. 
Chupa Chups. Strawberry and cream. 
Your mouth parts and it’s a concoction of a gasp and a sound of endearment when the realization that he got you a lollipop sinks in. Your heart flips and does a head stand. Lips round into a pout, drunk eyes softening, its twinkles growing in size and light. It’s like he gave you something golden, when in fact it costs a few wons, but to you it’s exactly that. Something so precious. 
You give him an air kiss, bouncing in your seat in joy, fingers already destroying the wrapper. “Thank you so…”
Your brows furrow as the wrapper remains intact. You do a bad, bad job of picking at the tape around the slender stick, your long manicured hands absolutely useless—and the cause of your frustration. You puff out an angry gust of breath, trying harder to get to the sweet delight and it’s at that moment that your boyfriend takes it from your hands with a deep chuckle. 
“You silly boo, this is how you do it.” Jungkook pinches the wrapper around the stick and he merely, in a few swift motions, twists the ball until it lets go. He scrunches it in his fists and throws it away in the ashtray. Smirks smugly, leans his elbows on the table, draws close to you. You mirror his position, get to him almost nose to nose, and his smirk deepens, tongue darting out to lick across his lips. You do the same, eyeing the round pinkness in his hand, the sexual attraction and its tension soaring high between you.
Without your hands, you could put it in your mouth, mimic the way you do it on his own tip and make him lose his mind a little bit. It’s right here, an inch away and you dip your head towards it, a magnetic pulling drawing you naturally to it. Sense his gaze on you, sense his delight, sense the flashback glimmering across the wholeness of him. But before you could wrap your lips around it, he moves it out of your reach. 
“No,” Jungkook murmurs, breath slightly ragged, holds it up in front of your face, watches as you go cross-eyed a little bit. Hums at the sight, quietly enough for only you to hear. “If you want it, ask for it nicely.” 
His puffy lips being so close to you, you desire to kiss him—cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink, his oh-so-loved dominance fucking with your drunkenness and your brain, body altogether. You tip your head to the side, flutter your lashes, make your eyes big and smile at him as sweetly as you can. 
He coos, validating you, and it is a force that makes you feel safe enough to submit to him like a small animal to its father. Safe enough to want to get under the table and make him feel really, really good, too. 
“Can I have the lollipop, please?” 
He groans, still quietly, and your panties drench immediately. You widen your eyes at him, feeling your slick, pursing your lips to scold him silently. He just laughs, amused by it all, and the sound of his joy fills you with elation.
One that darkens, when he asks, “Where?” 
You lick your lips, taking in the question, struck by it. Letting your mind wander, the places where you want it, except your mouth, is on your nipples and your clit. Nicely sweet and sticky—for him to clean up, for him to enjoy. Your dewiness soaks the material of your panties and your body begins to yearn for any kind of friction. You’re not sure whether you’re able to stick around in your chair, acting as if nothing’s wrong—acting as if you’re not stupendously horny. 
“In my mouth.” 
Jungkook makes a noise of appreciation and you’re so frustrated by all those sounds he makes that you want to dig your nails in his arms and make him pay for it. Even more so, when he plunges the lollipop into his mouth and his lips pucker around it, inciting the butterflies in your tummy to go absolutely fucking berserk. You place your hand on his bicep, nails ready to attack, but then he pulls out the treat with a pop, angling it at your mouth. 
“Open.” 
You thought he stole it from you, but he did no such thing. He wetted it for you, like a father for its child. You’re stupefied to the point that you don't even realize that you’re leaving a mark on the linen material of your seat. 
You do open your mouth for him, however. 
He twists the ball on your tongue, expecting you to close your mouth around the stick, but you don’t. No, you swirl that muscle around the candy, deepening your gaze, smirking. Jungkook stills, clenches his strong jaw. Darkness flicks across his eyes and he narrows them. First warning. 
You pretend you don’t see it. 
Closing your mouth and encasing your hand around his, you move the lollipop to the side of your cheek, acting as if it were his dick. And when you bob your head once, Jungkook tugs on the stick, wanting to pull it out, but you don’t let him, keeping it caged between your teeth. It only drives you to bob your head again.  
“Stop,” he says, voice calm, deep and serious—terribly deadly. Withdraws his hand and leans back, watching you with a predatory gaze, one that makes you even wetter. “Or we’re going home.” 
That’s exactly what you want. Instructions clear. 
You open your mouth and do a show of swirling your tongue around the ball, only this time you flick the muscle against it. Jungkook grips the table, knuckles white, and you laugh, which you soon realize was a grave mistake. 
“You think it’s funny?” he questions you, staring you down with a look that should frighten you, but it merely turns you on. You suck on the lollipop, the dulciness of strawberries suffusing your senses. “I’ll bend you over this fucking table, lift up that slutty little skirt and spank you in front of everyone.” 
You pull out the candy with an exaggerated pop. Scowl at him. As though his words didn’t affect you the way that they did—as though you’re not squeezing your thighs together, trying to gain that friction you so desperately need. “Why are you so angry?” 
He looks away for a moment, laughing silently. Nods his head at your wine glass. “You finished with your wine, baby?” 
It’s this pleasantness that you hear in this voice that spreads goosebumps across your skin. Feigned sugariness—the sunlight right before the clouds come in and thunder strikes; the calm before the storm. 
Good thing you’re dressed for the rain and ready to sing in it. 
You nod your head and Jungkook clicks his tongue, grabs you by your hand whilst he pulls out his wallet. You accompany him as he walks over to the bar, black card ready between his fingers. Waits to be noticed. Gives you a look over and fixes your skirt, pulling the hem down. 
Pays for you. Smiles down at you as he pockets his wallet. 
And then, he drags you to his car. 
Perhaps it’s the fresh air, perhaps it’s the briskness in his walk and the tight hold around your hand, but all intoxication evaporates from your body, leaving only your stained elation and neediness. You can’t help your smile. Think it must be sewn in at this point. By his own diligent fingers. 
A wind blows in, pulling your hair to your front and Jungkook pins you against his car. Tits squished against the passenger side, elbows pressed together. Eyes wide, you check your surroundings and find no one in sight. Only swaying trees, buildings of apartments, lamps illuminating the dark street. You relax right away, trusting Jungkook that he’s on the lookout and knows what he’s doing. 
He grinds his hips against your backside and you moan at the feeling of his hard length. With his free hand, he brushes your hair to one side and begins to pepper kisses along the curve of your neck, nuzzling his face in. Hovers his lips above your ear when he says, “You feel how hard you made me with your little show?” You nod, quickly, wanting more of him, wanting him inside of you. Push your hips back; twirl them in slow circles. Jungkook hisses. “I guess you really do want that spanking. Where’s your lollipop?” You show him your hand, where your treat remains uneaten and dry. He takes it from you and you turn your head in time to see him sink it into his mouth, placing it on the side of his mouth like you did. “Get inside the car.” 
Jungkook opens the door for you and forces you in, closing it with a harsh thud. As he rounds the vehicle, he makes eye contact with you and your tummy flips in response. 
Fuck. 
Nothing happens in a millisecond once he’s seated, but then he grabs your cheeks, squishing them in the way he likes, and kisses you hard, lollipop in hand. Moving his mouth against yours, his tongue only briefly greets you before he pulls away. “Naughty fucking girl. You’re lucky that I love you because otherwise…” He doesn’t finish his sentence with words, but with another kiss, breathing against you, grunting when it’s you this time that slips the tongue inside, playing with him the same way you played with the dessert he got you. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me. I’m gonna put you in your fucking place, make you remember how to behave in public. You’ve forgotten, haven't you?” 
You don’t have time to react, you merely bite your lip so hard that it aches. Jungkook pushes you back and yanks your leg between his, lifting your skirt. Then, he hovers his palm above your ass, the other forearm resting on the top of the seat, lollipop dangling near your head. He hides his smirk behind his effort to flatten his lips. 
And when he spanks you, you don’t roll your eyes back and rasp like your body naturally wants you to. No, you hold the eye contact and you take the pain, letting it course through your body, reveling in it. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps going, alternating between slapping your now reddened cheeks and the back of your thigh. Doesn’t even stroke the skin to alleviate the burn. He solely bores his gaze into yours, his cock rock hard against your leg. Another set of words are exchanged, silently, deeply, teaching you your lesson in tandem with the hits, burying it to a great depth inside you. 
And then he finishes with a nasty kiss, but his hand resumes causing you pain. You’ve lost count of how many spanks you’ve taken. 
It’s like you’ve woken up from a trance. It reverberates throughout your entire body and it’s now that you allow your body to vocally react. You whine, rounding your mouth in a pout, so different from the one on the dinner date. And you remember your manners—perceive how wrong it was to tease him, even though a good half of you still takes delight in it. 
“It hurts,” you whisper, nudging your lips against him and he gives you your last spank—the hardest of them all. The infliction makes you flutter your eyes shut and Jungkook brings them back to him by caressing his knuckles down your flushed cheek. 
“Good, you remember how to behave now?” he asks, halting his movement, such piercing intensity in his irises that drive you to nod your head. “That’s my good little girl.” Taps the side of your thigh. “Let Daddy make it better now.” 
You open your legs for him and Jungkook pushes your soaked panties to the side, revealing your little bedewed seashell. He hums at the sight of her, pops the lollipop back inside his mouth. Collects your arousal by swirling the pads of his middle and ring finger around your hole, eyes flicking from your pussy to your own, groaning when he comes into contact with your swollen clit, rubbing slow circles. You whimper, bucking your hips, needing him to go faster, needing to come. 
Jungkook shakes his head, disapproving. “You take what I give you or I’ll stop.” Lifts his hand to express the gravity of his threat and you help, wrapping both hands around his and putting it back on your bundle of nerves. He chuckles at your desperation, giving you the same circles, though now firmer. 
Waves the lollipop near your lips. You open your mouth, instinctively, and he plunges it into your mouth for a mere second before he pulls away, growling at the sound that comes out. He does it again, fucking you with it in a way, just to hear that pop and he’s so pleased with it that he sinks those two fingers inside your heat, fully, in one ego. Keeps them there. Teases you. Hovers the lollipop out of your reach and you decide to fuck with him back. Darting out your tongue, you whirl it around the flat side and he swears, moaning, giving to you at last. 
He latches his mouth onto your neck, starting the drill of his fingers. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” 
He picks up the speed so rapidly that you scream, squeezing your eyes shut, the pleasure permeating your body so vastly that you quiver all over. Grab a hold of his hair, pulling on it and then—
Then, he withdraws his fingers. Ruins your orgasm. 
You pant, trying to catch your breath. “Please, Jungkook, please—”
He nudges his nose against yours. “What, baby?” 
“I need to come, please.” 
Jungkook tuts, kissing you once. “I thought we could play.” Plunges the lollipop into your mouth to wet it. Shows it to you, just to see you go cross-eyed again. Moans. “Where do you want it, hm?” 
Ever the angel that makes your fantasies come to life. You wrap your fingers around his hand, butterflies swarming in your tummy. Lead him towards your still clothed breasts. “Here.” Take him to your drooling pussy. “And here.” 
Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Descends his fingers a little lower, to your other hole, circles it. “What about here?” 
You giggle, but you shake your head. The idea may be intoxicating, however reality is much different. There’s a risk to putting any sweetened food inside, one you don’t want to deal with. 
Jungkook smiles at you, pushes your seat back and slides it in the same direction. Crawls over you and you feel so feminine, so sexy underneath him. Nipples perked under your top, breasts full and spilling. You arch your back towards him and Jungkook drags his thumb from your bottom lip, to your chin, neck, the dip of your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your Tom and he tugs it down so harshly that you can’t contain your very own concoction of a gasp and moan. 
Lollipop in mouth, one hand propped by your head, the other squeezes your breast hard, nearing it, fingers pinching your nipple. Makes the flesh as red as your ass. You can tell he likes the view by the way he coos, but then he wipes all your thoughts away, when he sucks hard on the candy and swirls it around your stiffened nub, gaze flicked to yours to watch your reaction. 
The pleasure is so vivid, so dizzying—and for him, you let it paint your face in all its colors. Brows scrunched, bedroom eyes, mouth parted, puffing out desperate breaths. Jungkook sucks it again and smears his saliva around your other nipple, taking his time, slapping the ball once against it, making you hiss. 
“It feels so good,” you murmur, sinking your fingers into the longer length on the back of his hair, bringing his mouth to yours. You kiss him with a verve that causes him to groan. You swallow that sound, satisfied. 
He grins at you. “I bet.” 
Dips his head and envelops that sugar-coated nub with his warm lips, sucking it hard. His groan spreads there, deepens there and you arch your back even more, pulling his head to your other nipple so he can do the same thing. Join your other hand to his hair and do whatever you please—turn his head side to side, from one nub to the other—and he lets you, giving you, momentarily, his control. You feel your essence soaking the seat beneath you and you thank the heavens that the fabric is one of leather. You lift his head and try to push it down, but he won’t budge. Stares you down instead, lustfully. 
“Where do you want me?” he asks, a wrinkle between brows. “Be a good girl and tell me.” Pops the lollipop back in his mouth.
You sigh, kissing him once on the side of his neck, using your tongue. Make sure you’re looking at him as you reply, “On my clit.” 
He moans, eyes woozy, finger on the stick as he sucks the candy, clefts of dimples on either side of his cheeks. You palm his length, your own digits rounding across his tight balls and he whisks his irises back, grinding into your hand. “You want a lickie?” 
“Yes, so bad, please.” 
He hums and kneels before you, kissing your clit once in greeting. Then, he flattens his tongue and licks a fat stripe across your whole femininity—from your slit, to your swollenness. Hands on your hips, index curled around the lollipop, he holds you steady, prevents you from meeting him, as he stimulates you like this. Up and down, tongue rolling, eyes fixed on you, devouring you. And when he stops to suck your clit, he taps your mouth once with the ball of the lollipop. The act of sucking on something while you’re getting pleasured like this almost throws you over the edge, your body coated in a layer of sweat, but Jungkook withdraws in time. Presses the delight in the middle and rubs small circles, just to prepare you for the big thing. You become so whiny, so loud that his eyes grow in size, watching you in awe. 
To reward you for such beauty, he rapidly strums it from side to side, causing you to nearly levitate, but he pins you down. Wetting it and placing it back down, grunting at the aftertaste of you mixed with the sweetness. 
And he can’t resist. Can’t hold back. The wrinkle between his brows deepens when he tastes you, licking you all over, tongue stopping occasionally its feast to flick at your clit before he swallows you whole. Grunts, sucks, licks. Eyes closed to savor the taste. The pressure in your core heightens, even more so when he lifts your legs, greedy for the side dish in the form of your other hole. You’re so close that you might burst. 
“You taste so fucking good, baby. So sweet. Come on my tongue, please, I want more of you.” 
He wants more of your taste. 
You come so hard that your orgasm takes you to an open sea, your body floating on calm waves, to and fro, eyes rolled to the sky—to the sunroof—seeing nothing but the elegance of the twinkling stars and deep purple clouds. 
“That’s it, baby, so good. That’s my little girl.” He slaps the side of your thigh, bringing you back to him. “Listening so well, learning her lesson, coming so hard. I’m proud.” 
His words alone could make you come again, but you’re distracted.
Jungkook unbuttons his pants and pulls out his manhood. Stroking himself, he lines his tip at your mouth. He doesn’t even have to tell you to open up—you do it yourself. Holding it at the base, he stuffs your throat right away, a guttural chuckle emitting out of his mouth when you gag. He pulls out to where you’re comfortable having him and you begin to bob your head, like you did with the lollipop. 
“Yes, suck it like that, my love. Daddy loves it when you do that.” 
His precum on your tongue, the way he’s holding himself, the position and his words—you moan around him, so out of your mind, so fucked out. And when he fucks your mouth, it turns you on so much that you go cross-eyed. 
Jungkook pulls out quickly, as if the sight of it alone was about to make him come. A string of your saliva from his tip drips onto your chest and he slides into your mouth again just to poke your cheek, just to mimic what you did with the lollipop. You whine, liking it so much, to the point that he drills this tender place of yours until he can’t take it enough. 
“Turn around.” You try to, but your legs are jelly. He manhandles you to the position he wants—on your knees, tits against the leather, arms around the headrest, the formerly abused cheek against it. “Hold onto it. Too bad we left bunny at home, huh?” 
Jungkook runs his cock across your pussy and you grind against it, needing the friction after the way he used you. You whimper for him. “She’s probably wondering where we are right now and why we’re taking so long.” 
“I’ll make it up to her.” He presses his length against your clit, encouraging you to use him back. “Rub your pussy like that on me, fuck.” He moves so it’s his tip that stimulates you. You ride him harder, moaning loudly against the leather. “You can make it up to her, too. Can ride her like I know you can. With a vibrator between your legs and hers, hm? How you like the sound of that?” 
You’re so close you could come in a second, but you don’t want it like this. You need him inside of you. “Shut up, I’m literally gonna come like this. Fuck me.” 
He fists your hair. Pain shoots up your scalp and he ruts into your heat. Fully. Until his pelvis collides with your ass. You scream. 
Lips by your ear. “Is this how you talk to your Daddy?” He begins to pump into your little tight hole. Mercilessly. The leather squeaks, a horrible, rapid sound that you can only faintly hear because all that your senses can focus on is his cock. “Your Daddy that loves you so much?” 
You come, pathetically. Sea and waves, palm trees that sway. Your legs tremble, but he keeps going, mouthing the shape of your ear. 
He tsks. “I’m gonna tell bunny on you. Maybe I’ll be the one who gets to fuck her while you watch.” He gives you a hard stroke, one that is followed by rapid thrusts that scramble your brain. “She’ll be so disappointed to hear how bad you’ve been, but I’ll make sure to tell her how hard I fucked it out of you.” 
Lifting you from the leather, he kneads your breasts, placing the lollipop in between and holding it up by squishing them. 
“Come on, get your lollipop.” He bounces your tits in his hands, signalizing you that he wants you to do it with your mouth. 
But you can’t do it. You come, majestically, your senses leaving you and wafting in the stuffed air of the car. Boneless, you sag in his arms. 
Jungkook coos. “You come so well around me that I’ll be good to you. You’re just a cockslut, aren’t you, baby? You just can’t help it, hm?” He puts the lollipop inside your mouth, chasing his so-needed release. 
It doesn’t take long for him to find the footsteps into that bliss that you left in your wake. He holds you like this, against him, tits spilling over his forearms as he jackhammers into you so hard that your whole body bounces, shakes and reacts to each grunt, to each whimper, to each kiss he presses onto your skin. 
With the little of the brain you have left, you decide to talk him through it—because he fucks you so good. 
“Come for me, Daddy, yes, please, fuck. Fill me up with your cum. I want it so bad, I want to feel you—” His cock twitches in you, but he continues, sloppily. “Yes, so good. That’s it. Come for your little girl, Jungkook.” A loud groan. A tight hold. A spurt of his cum inside your walls. You whimper and he fucks it deeper into you, giving you more of his liquid stars. “Jungkook, oh fuck, Jungkook, oh yes.” 
And it’s that never-ending litany of his name that helps him chase his high to the fullest. He kisses your neck hard in gratitude for helping him come, marking you, marking this memory. 
You stay like this for a little while. Sweaty, sticky, spent, breathing hard—lungs synced. 
A warm announcement sneaks to your heart, one that screams it into the drowsy skies once Jungkook pulls out of you, turns you around and, stealing your candy, kisses you. 
An announcement that you’re deeply and irrevocably in love with him. 
“You sounded just like me.” He finishes your lollipop for you, chewing the small bulby head as he dresses you and his cum spills onto your panties. 
Your smile is dopey, satisfied and you’re ready for sleep to take you, but Jungkook gets out of the car for a smoke. You think you need one, too, after what you’ve experienced together, and so you follow him out into the night on wobbly legs. 
He leans against his car, a cigarette in his mouth, one hand cupping the fire as he flicks his lighter to life. You wait until he puffs out the smoke into the air before you fold into the side of his body, stealing his cigarette and inhaling it, giving it back to him. 
Jungkook pats your head, rubbing your scalp, chin propped on it. “I didn’t mean what I said. You were perfect. I’m not telling shit to bunny, I promise.” 
You smile, fondly. Didn’t take his words seriously, not at all, but you’re grateful for the reassurement regardless. It’s just role-play, nothing else. 
“I know, baby,” you say, softly, massaging his stomach, going as far as under his shirt to feel his bare skin—ever so innocently. 
“I wanted to fuck you the moment you sat down. You’re just my little helper and because of that I’m glad we’re going home with my cum in your panties,” he whispers, placing the cigarette on your lips, so you can take a drag. “You deserve every drop.” 
You feel that familiar ache rooting in your core again, but you don’t think you can take another round. Jungkook lifts your chin, making you look at him. Twinkles, bigger than the ones of the stars up above, living in his soft eyes. That cute nose. Those pouty lips. His silky, dreamy heart that looks out for you and puts you first. 
The three words that you’ve never told him before rise up your body and you think now is the perfect occasion to say them. 
“I love you.” 
Wetness coats his eyes and the twinkles broaden, saturating them with an unfathomable, fulging light. He flicks his cigarette away, presses you closer to him and with his now free hand, he cups your face. Kisses you. For a long, long time. 
“I love you.” 
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