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#a man will be like *has an ear piercing* and i have to sit down and discuss with myself
lovifie · 2 days
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141 Task Force Men and what piece of clothing they would steal.
(No smutty, just these fine gentlemen being little rats that steal your clothes)
Price💸
First of all, he would steal everything.
Especially if you lived together.
"What do you mean I can't grab your jacket to go buy some bread? Bla, bla, bla. I'll be back before you miss it."
"Oh, these are your socks? I was wondering when I had bought such bright colour ones."
"Why are you wearing my raincoat, John?" "Excuse me? Is mine!" "No, it's not!!"
In his mind, if he is planning to share his life with you, it simply makes sense for him to share everything else.
But there is something he is stealing over everything else, and those are booty shorts.
My man is overheating in this global warmed world, and he is looking on his closest for some shorts when he stumbles upon your booty shorts.
They are ridiculously short, basically legalized underwear he can wear outside; but this is the coolest he has felt since summer started, so he isn't stopping.
After all, who is going to tell the military captain what to wear?
Plus, when you wake up in the morning you are greeted by him in the kitchen making coffee and booty shorts with "juicy" written on them.
Extra: The two of you have an extensive collection of hats, that he technically doesn't steal from because it's shared.
Extra x2: He owns the "Woman want me, Fish fear me."
Ghost 💀
Your sweaters
It all started the first night he went to your house.
He was wearing a leather jacket, and although he looked illegally hot; it was obvious it was not the comfiest jacket to be chilling ii.
So you offered him your fave sweater, a massive one that could almost work as a blanket.
At first, he rejects your offer, afraid that it will be itchy and he will offend you; but his complaints get shut when you ask him to please feel it.
Instantly tries it own, the massive sweater looking loose on his as well. The image of the behemoth of a man, all black, balaclava (no mask) still on... And the fluffiest sweater on melting your heart.
The next time he visited your house he didn't even wait for you to open the door before taking his jacket off: "....can I put on your sweater?"
They are kind of his guilty pleasure, he would never admit how much he likes them and even less to other person but you.
But you only need to see how he buries himself on the sweater when he sits down on the sofa.
If he was amazing to cuddle with before, now it's even better.
Extra: I also like to think of him having a random ear piercing, and whenever he wears just the surgical mask or no mask in general; he would steal one of your dangling earrings to wear. Playing with it throughout the whole night out.
Soap 🧼
Baby tees
Every single one of them.
He keeps saying they make their muscles look amazing (they do)
He likes the ones with drawings or photos, but his favourites are the ones with texts.
Cue to him wearing tight ass shirts saying such as: "Small tits, big heart", "I got my clit pierced at Claire's" or "Don't bully me, I'll cum :("
You don't even remember why you bought them, mostly they are gifts from Secret Santa but you are so, so glad they found their way to your closet.
He wears them proudly, not even realising the stares.
When you go online shopping he's always cuddling on your side, leaving one of your arms useless with the way he cuddles it.
If he sees a tee he likes he just makes you stop scrolling and add it to the basket like: "It'll look good in you too."
There is also a small collection of them, the ones you genuinely like that don't let him wear. Not after he put one on, started flexing his arms and back and ripped it.
Just staring at you with guilt on his eyes and his tits out.
Gaz ⛽
Your shirts.
The ugliest, most colourful, eye-sore, extravagant shirt that you might own? He's taking them.
You are cleaning your closet one day and you pull out an offense to your eyes, mumbling about what where you thinking when you bought it and Gaz sees it and is like: °o°
He's taking it.
Getting ready for a costume party, you decide to dress up as Master Roshi from Dragon Ball (fake beard and everything) but you are missing the ugly shirt.
You remember seeing it not too long ago in your closet but you can't find it. So you ask your boyfriend.
And you find him wearing it, spraying cologne on telling you that he is also going out with his mates and asking how do you look.
Little shit does pull it off, so you don't lie when you tell him he looks fantastic.
You still have plenty of ugly shirts for your costume.
Extra: He would steal all your jewerly, rings, bracelets, necklaces, you name it. Just little bits all over his outfit; "It signs the deal, babe." They do.
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Extra x2: He is always waiting for somebody to compliment any of your things he is wearing to have an excuse to talk about you, Soap is tired of hearing him mumble about you whenever he drinks.
@crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z  
@lyralein @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @dumb12bvtch1212
@thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock  
@arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk
@reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat  
@lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw
@rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting
@dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708
@katreintjie @sacvh @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129
@idk-justkane @shanhalen @mikaronn @thatoneslvt @crinoid90
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luminiamore · 2 days
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sugar daddy nanami kento x black hyperfem reader
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warnings: brat tamer nami, super duper big arms actually, spoiled reader, he’s a bit mean, he’s such a man omg, public sex, squirting, creampie, you'll almost get caught, mirror sex
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“Excuse me, Sir? Is this seat taken?”
A sweet voice interrupts Nanami’s focus on the book in his lap, The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. The train's movements cause his body to sway slightly. He holds in a breath, really not in the mood to speak, but he's a gentleman. So, he looks up anyway.
He doesn't feel disappointed, actually the opposite. He's never seen anyone as beautiful as you. Your brown skin is smooth and clear, and your lips are glossed and full, with a slight pout. The makeup you put on was such a compliment to your face that it made you look like.. a doll. With eyes that made him seem like your salvation, you stared down at him.
Where did you come from?
“I’m sorry to bother you! It’s just- I’ve been trying to find a seat for a few minutes, and my feet are starting to really hurt. God, I should’ve never worn heels.”
You’re talking to him. He quickly comes to the realization that staring at your moving lips would make him appear creepy. Your voice was a little.. distracting. He clears his throat as he catches his lips quip up in amusement,
“It’s not taken. Please, sit.” You're walking towards the seat near the window, following his hips as they adjust to allow you to pass in front of him. Your clothes were... to say it bluntly, provocative. Your skirt was pink. He found that cute. But it was short, way too short to be worn out in public.
As you leaned down to prevent hitting the overhead storage area, his eyes caught the fat brown pussy lips poking out from the sides of your panties. Who the fuck let you go out like that?
You were wearing a strapless top that was also pink. The word 'BRAT,' which was printed in a bold white color, caught his attention. Hm, is that so?
You sit down, and now the blond man is hyper-fixating on your plush thighs pressing next to his. He’s interrupted by your sweet voice again, “Thank you, Sir. You’re too kind!”
He attempts to offer a smile, but he observes that your face is already buried in your phone, and your medium-length French tip nails echo a tapping sound. Well, now that won’t do. He wants your eyes on him again, your attention on him again. So he decides to speak,
“You headed somewhere important?” He acknowledges that this isn't the most ideal thing to ask a beautiful lady, especially during a train ride. His thoughts were running wild, and he was desperately trying to come up with something to say to you. He hopes you don't overthink it, but you look like the ditzy type.
You stop your typing and look up with your mind in thought, “Hmm, not really,” Your eyes turn to him and his cock twitches.
“I’m just going to meet up with some friends at the mall. The amount of walking I’m about to do is going to kill me but I can’t really do nothing since my car’s in the shop.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
Nanami observes that you have no filter or awareness that you may be talking too much. Either that, or you're so self-confident that you don't care. Regardless of what it is, he discovers that it is something he enjoys. He has the opportunity to ask more questions and hear your voice in his ears for just a moment longer.
You sit up straight, and now... Your body is facing him. And now he can see the nipple piercings that are pressing through your top. Nanami grits his teeth and forces his eyes to look at your wide ones.
Were you doing this on purpose? You have to be, but when he looks into your eyes, he finds no evidence of any alternate motives. That, or you were good at being coy.
“Well, somebody crashed into it when it was parked. And it was so bad, there was a weird creaking sound every time I drove! So now it’s in the shop, and it’s staying there.” You’re pouting again. And Nanami finds that he doesn’t like that hopeless look on your face. He has a burning desire to fix it, to alleviate any problems you're facing.
His voice grows soft and tender as he gazes into you, “It’s staying there?”
“I haven’t paid for the fix yet. So, the mechanic guy won’t give it t’me.” You shift in your seat. As you browse through your photos, he watches as you click on a picture of a pink Mercedes with its rear end completely broken. The color didn't catch him by surprise; in fact, he was more amused than anything.
“I see. Is there a reason you haven’t paid yet?”
Your brows furrow, and your head drops slightly as a sign of embarrassment. He thinks you're so cute. Nanami wonders if you have a job. You don’t look like the type to raise your perfectly manicured nails, and if you were his, he would never let you.
“Well... I’m in between jobs right now. My daddy won’t lend me any more money, and he told me yesterday, ‘You spend too much, and I can’t keep paying for your expensive shit.’”
Your bubbly, soft tone gets higher in pitch as you try to imitate your father's voice. You pivot and grasp Nanami's massive bicep through his blue dress shirt with your fingers. You notice a slight flush of your cheeks as you shift your eyes to where you grabbed it. He's so big that both your hands can barely wrap around the entirety of it.
Your eyes look up at him, “And y’know I get it! But ever since he got his new girlfriend, she’s been telling him these things. He never felt this way before!”
Your hand is covered by his, his veiny and large hand. You seemed really shaken up by this, and he can’t stand it. Someone as beautiful and perfect as you should not have to suffer like that. He wants to make your life easier; he wants you not to be bothered by such trivial matters.
As one hand raises your chin, his finger softly moves back and forth. His warmth makes the hairs on your skin prickle. “I’m very sorry about that, sweetheart. Would paying for your fix make you feel better? I can get a car to take you to your friends as well.”
You gasp and immediately shake your head, “Oh no, sir! I couldn’t ask you to do that. I-I mean, you’re a strang-”
“Kento, my name is Kento. And don’t be silly. I have more than enough to spend.”
“But-”
“No buts, sweetheart. I just met you, but I don’t like seeing a frown on that pretty face. Let me take care of your troubles the best I can.”
That day, you left the train with his number, and he left with your name. His generosity didn't end there. Kento started paying for a lot of your stuff, and eventually, he sent you money every day, making it such a habit that he just gave you one of his black cards. He would only ask for your company as compensation. There's nothing sexual about this, in fact.
Kento would go above and beyond to spend time with you, even leaving his job in the middle of the day to care for you. During your shopping sprees, he would hold your bags while you ramble about your week as you walked into another store. When you came to him crying about your dad's girlfriend not giving you a break, he decided to buy you your own apartment. It goes without saying that he pays for both your rent and all of your utilities. He would take you out for dinner and treat you to the finest high-end places because he knows that's what you deserve. The finest, and only the finest.
Nanami takes pride in the amount of self-control he has. Almost nothing gets under his skin.. but you. You and the short skirts you wear. You and your tight outfits. You and the way you bend down in front of him, exposing your pink lace panties. He tries to keep his eyes away, but he sometimes feels as if you're doing this on purpose. You must be.
And the truth is, you were. Nanami was the most attractive man you ever had the pleasure of seeing. Not only that, but his company has become something you've come to love. Ever since you met him on that crowded train, you've had lewd thoughts about him. Thoughts of him feigning a sex attack, thoughts of him bending you over and drilling his cock into you. You wanted him so badly, but he refused to do anything with you. It was making you crazy.
But you didn't know how to directly say that you want him to fuck your brains out. You opted for giving him hints, bending over in front of him, brushing against his thighs. Once, you managed to sit on his lap while he cooked you dinner at his home. He never moved, never did anything except keep his hands on your hips. That was enough to make you wet.
On a Tuesday afternoon at Japan's biggest mall, Nanami reached his limit. Your mini white heels were clacking on the tile floor as you entered the Victoria's Secret store, looking for the newest Valentine's Day set. This isn't his first time going shopping with you for lingerie, so he's not bothered in the slightest. Picking up the set and asking him to judge how it looks on you is what surprises him. You've never done that before.
“Please Nami, I have a date tomorrow and I’m hoping I can show him!”
A date? What the fuck do you have a date for?
The situation confuses Nanami. Antsy. Annoyed. He has a sense of jealousy. He can tell. You were his. Only his. You don't need a sluggish, limp-dick man who probably couldn't find your g-spot spot. You needed a man. You needed him. What advantage does your date have over him? What can your date do that he doesn't currently do for you? Are you insane?
He is unaware that you don't actually have a date. You were lying and trying to get him to react once more. You are the epitome of a brat. Kento doesn’t like brats. He breaks them.
You flick your pretty eyelashes at the 6'4 man who stares down at you with an unamused expression on his face. You’re pouting again, and Nanami really hates that he says yes to you. When you look at him like that, he can't say no. It's so hard to say no, but he's tired. Tired of the way you rile him up, he's sure that you're just hoping for a reaction from him. He has to put an end to this.
“..Lead the way, sweetheart.”
You're too occupied with other sets to notice that his voice becomes deeper when he speaks.
Nanami doesn't go into the dressing room with you. He planned to wait on the small, bright pink benches outside. Your angelic voice called out to him to help you with the zipper on a corset, ruining his plan. He loves helping you. It actually makes his day when he makes yours easier in any way. So, he agrees.
His breath hitsched when he pulls back the curtain. Oh fuck. You were... In red panties, the stockings lie softly on your thighs. While staring in the mirror, your brown skin is visible to him, and the corset is loosely hanging off your shoulders. You are a sight to behold—a sight of beauty, delight, and sweetness.
He creeps up on you slowly as though he doesn't want to frighten you. The moment he pulls both ends of the top together, you release a cute gasp. The zipper's faint sound as it rises makes you shiver when his hands brush against you. Once he's finished, his hands rest on your waist, your warmth radiating onto him. His voice, grave and breathless, causes you to catch your breath when he speaks,
“This is what y’re wearing? For your.. date?”
You hum and turn your body side to side to look at how the set fits on you.
“Uhuh! Y’think he’ll like it?” He tilts his head and observes your ass moving slightly with every move you make.
“Hm. What reaction do you suppose you’ll get out him?”
His fingertips can be felt on the panty line as he plays with it and pulls the band. You leap when it snaps itself back to your skin. His other hand is reaching in front of you and grazing your pussy
“Something like this?” The lace that clings to your pussy is grasped by his big hand, and you let out a pathetic whimper at the sight of it. You’re dripping. It wasn't your stupid date that caused this, it was all because of him. You succumb to his grip, and, of course, he steadies you.
“K-Ken?” Your voice squeaks out.
He pays no attention to you and only looks at the slick on his fingers when he moves away from your cunt. You're seeing all this through the mirror, watching his every move. Despite having dreamed about this moment every night, you still feel a little nervous. His expression in the mirror seems... upset.
“Y’know, sweetheart, I am tired.” His hands slowly take the panties off of you, allowing them to fall to your heels on the floor.
“Tired of how you tease me.”
He spreads your folds out from under you, letting the moisture drip all over his palm as he slides up and down. He groans when you emit the most adorable moan right next to his ear. God, you were so precious. He wanted you all to himself.
He scoffs, “A date. The hell do you need a date for? Y’need someone to fuck you, is that it? Someone to teach you some manners?” He slid his two thick fingers into your wet mound, scolding you when you let out a dirty mewl.
“Quiet sweetheart, bad girls don’t get to make a sound.”
He pushes them in deeper, immediately finding your spongy, and presses into it repeatedly. You tremble in his arms, pressing your hands to muffle your moans.
He murmurs to you, battling against the squelching noise your pussy is making. Your knees are buckling, but there's another hand pressing on your stomach to keep you upright and amplify the pressure you're feeling in your stomach. “I treat you so good. I buy you whatever you want, I make sure you’re always eating good. And yet you still insist on being a brat.”
He seethes in your ear, watching your pretty eyes roll back in the mirror. Kento feels that your loudness is causing you to forget you're in public. At this point, he doesn't care much. Throughout all of this, Kento is pulling down his zipper, freeing his hard dick from his boxers.
“It’s okay, baby, I’m gonna fuck you. Gonna fuck you so hard you forget all about that stupid date.” He stops finger-fucking you and leaves your sopping cunt suddenly, causing you to whimper at the loss.
Without warning, he plunges his fat cock deep into you and immediately presses his hand on your mouth to stop you from screaming. Your body falls back against him, leaving you drooling against his palm. It was too much, but you loved it. Had you known it would result in this, you would have done this a long time ago. Your body felt stuffed as he sucked his length in and out of you, observing how your pussy creams every time it disappeared inside.
Kento thinks you're perfect. Every aspect of your being is perfect. The way you squeezed around him almost made him forget that this was your punishment. Shit, you felt so good that he doesn't even want to carry on with the punishment anymore.
“There you go, sweetheart. Shh, just take it.”
You whine against his palm, your eyes barely open as this man is practically splitting you in half. You were both pouring your juices onto the floor, creating a small puddle below you. “Fuck. Such a messy girl.”
Your haze and pleasure make it impossible for you to hear footsteps coming near you and Kento. But he did, and he figures... It's a good idea to torment you a bit. So he speeds up his pace, letting the music drown out the light papping sound his thrusts and balls are making on your clit. If it's even possible.
“Miss? Is everything alright? D’you need any help?”
Your surprise is evident when your mind recognizes the voice of one of the employees. Fuck. No.
Nanami whispers into your ear, low enough for only you to hear, “Better answer her, sweet girl. Wouldn’t want her to suspect anything, hm?”
He’s so mean. Speaking is not an option when he's drilling into you like a madman. Fuck, could the poor lady even hear the noise? You're shaking, and you really can't help the yelp you let out every time his cock gets buried so deep inside of you. You rapidly nod against his hand, desperately attempting to do anything for him to keep fucking you like this. His hand slowly descends from your lips and grasps your covered tits in the corset, never once halting his pace inside you.
“Miss?” She speaks again, and you answer quickly so she can leave,
“I-I’m okay! Still- Ah! t-trying the s-set on.”
Nanami thinks you’re so cute as you try to keep your voice steady, chuckling to himself when you moan out in between your words. He thinks it's unfortunate when you're forced to speak again due to the lady's persistent pestering.
“..Are you sure? You don’t sound-”
“Yes! E-Everything’s f-fine, I’ll be r-right out!” You cut her off, your mind still reeling from the strong blows that Nanami never ceases to give you.
You faintly hear her muttering an 'Okay' before her heels recede into the crowded store. In all honesty, you believe you're starting to hear colors now. He was fucking you so good, and when you feel that familiar fire pit burning in your lower abdomen, you know what's coming. Or, in this case, who’s coming. You.
Nanami knows it, too, because your cunt just squeezed twice as hard on him. It’s practically pulsing open and close. You’re trying to fucking milk him.
“Good job, sweetheart. Y’gonna be my good girl from now on?” His hand doesn't even bother to cover your mouth anymore. Instead, his fingers reach down to your pulsating clit and start rubbing in tight circles. You forcefully bite your lip to prevent screaming out, savoring the metallic taste of blood on your tongue.
Nanami knows that if you let go of your lips right now, you're going to attract attention. He doesn't want that type of distraction at the moment, so he's not too upset about your quick nod as a response. He doesn't even think you know what he's saying, too drunk from the sensation of his cock to think about anything else other than that. Even so, you're saying yes. You, indeed, are perfect.
“Think you deserve to cum? I think you do, you were so good earlier talking to that lady. So cum, sweetheart. Make a mess f’me, yeah?”
That you definitely heard. It seems your pussy did, too, because she doesn't hesitate to squirt all over the floor. The mirror was being sprayed with your overflowing juices. Throughout it all, he was intensely watching you through the mirror, observing the face you make when you cum. It was so beautiful. The way your brows scrunch, and your eyes roll back, almost into your skull. The sight was enough for him to conceal his groans in your silk press, cumming so deeply inside of you that you thought it reached your womb.
Heavy breathing was all that could be heard under the faint music buzzing through the speakers. As Nanami slips out of you, you let out a whimper and gaze into the now-wet mirror, watching as he crouches down to where both he and your fluids are dripping out of you. You hear him mutter a curse under his breath, shivering when he runs his finger through your slightly gaping cum stuffed hole.
He lifts his finger, slipping it into his mouth to taste the aftermath of your.. lovemaking. He can detect some of your juices and his own. He only utters one word when he releases his finger with a pop,
“Sweet.”
He rises, gathers your clothes, and pockets the panties you wore when you initially came into the store. He believes that letting you confront people with his cum dripping down your thighs is an appropriate punishment. He pauses when he recalls something, “That date of yours tomorrow? Cancel it.”
Oh right! You didn't let him know that there wasn't a date.
“Kento?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“…I lied about having a date.”
Nanami freezes. His hands hold your skirt by your knees, and his eyes immediately catch yours in the mirror. He chuckles and shakes his head in astonishment when he realizes that this was your plan all along.
Despite not saying much, he whispers in a raspy voice,
“Brat.”
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@hatake05 @thickbihhwitdagapp
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Private Show | minsung x fem!reader | version.2
You're a dancer at an exclusive establishment where you perform for kpop idols in masks. Two strangers are after a specific kind of private show from you.
v.1 here. v.2 is the unhinged version.
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cw: unprotected vaginal and anal sex, drinking, anonymous sex, threesome, butt plugs, restraints, name calling, praise, double pen same hole, creampie, blow jobs, dom minho and jisung, sub reader.
You knew that drinking at work would only make you horny and lose your inhibitions, but you were willing to take the risk.
The time had come for your private performances, and tonight you had your favourite setting; the boudoir. You led your two clients into the room, closing and locking the door.
You weren't supposed to lock the door (why there was even a lock there at all you didn’t know), but you locked it nonetheless. That way no one could see you enjoy a glass of wine (or whatever else you decided to drink) while you put on your show.
“Please, sit.” You gestured to the two tub chairs at the foot of the bed. The two men did as you asked and settled themselves in the chairs.
You knew the men were young, from the way they moved. Plus most of the clients were idols. It was a place they could come to enjoy themselves and remain anonymous. The masks they wore concealed the two men’s features, and all you could see were their dark, lustful eyes peering out, and their lips. Fuck their lips looked irresistible.
“Would you like a drink?” you asked with a low, sultry voice as you wheeled the drink trolley closer to them.
They nodded and you poured two glasses of whisky and one glass of sparkling wine.
They were dressed in dinner suits and bucket hats. The hats absolutely did not match their clothes or the theme of the venue, but they did hide their hair and foreheads entirely.
As you passed the glasses to them your fingers brushed theirs, sending electricity through you. Who were these men before you?
Three of you downed your drinks within moments and you found herself immediately pouring more. On the third round of drinks, the taller of the two men grabbed your wrist as you handed him his drink. It took you by surprise when he leaned in close to your ear and whispered “Show us a special dance no one else has seen? Just for us?”
You bit your lip deviously. You found that request rather thrilling if you were being honest with yourself.
You looked to the other man, the shorter one, his mouth hung open and he was covering the front of his trousers with his hand. Was this man turned on already?
“Hmm. A private dance just for the two of you?” While you pretended to think it through, you poured yourself another glass of wine and perched on the end of the bed.
Fuck, the two men were deliciously built, and they gave off an energy that turned you on. Your core ached. You were wet. You could feel your lace underwear sticking to your folds. You decided you were going to give them the show of their lives.
You proceeded to give them each a lap dance. You could feel their eyes on you. Lustful, hungry eyes.
The taller one gripped your wrist again, pulling you into his lap. “I think you can do better than this.” He whispered deadly.
“Well, what did you have in mind? You must have some idea what you want to see.” you replied.
The man chuckled. “Oh there is something I’ve been dying to see. For so long.” He stroked the skin of your chest, just above the bulge of your breast. “I want to see you filled up with our cocks.” His fingers stilled, his piercing eyes made your breath catch in your throat. You bit your lip and your pussy clenched at just the mere thought of having these two strangers stuffing you full of cock.
You looked to the other man, the shorter one. He was almost shaking with lust too. They really wanted you this bad, huh? You were tipsy, but not drunk. You still had coherent thought, although the way they were making you fee right now you were quickly losing any sense of self control.
“You really wanna see that, huh?” You leaned in close to his ear.
The shorter man was on his knees on the floor beside you, fingertips slowly making their way up your stay up stockings. “We wanna see you be our good little fuck toy.” he said low.
“If you agree to this, we take control. Got that?” The man you were sitting on said. “We do whatever we want.” His mouth brushed your ear.
“And do you know what we want to do most?” The man on the floor whispered whilst still drinking in your leg. He looked up. “Make you feel good.” He said flatly. “Will you let us?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation in your response. The pair smiled darkly.
“Safe word’s whiskey. Now go bend over the end of the bed.” The taller man instructed.
You stood on wobbly feet. It wasn’t like you to feel unsteady. It wasn’t the alcohol, but arousal making you feel weak and submissive.
They watched you as you stood at the foot of the bed. A hand on your back pushed you forward face first into the mattress, your ass hanging over the edge.
“Fuck!” you heard one of them whisper under their breath. Then your ruffle mini skirt was flipped up revealing your red lace thong.
“Red. My favourite.” And a hand came down and slapped you on the cheek. You gasped and a smile appeared on your face. This was thrilling.
“Look how fucking perfect her ass is. Grrr.” Hands squeezed, smacked and jiggled your fleshy ass, and you could do nothing but lay there and let them.
“Let’s get this thong off her, Hyung.” Fingers hooked into the tiny string waistband of your underwear and was yanked down your legs in one rough move.
You knew the moment they saw it. You heard their breath hitch and the murmuring of “fuck” and “slut”. The round handle of the silver butt plug was on display for the two strangers. You let out a little, desperate whimper.
“Look at you, hmm. It’s like you knew you needed to prepare yourself for us tonight.” It was the older, taller man who spoke. His voice was more measured and intentional than the other man, and he had a hint of condescendence in his tone.
“Did you plan to be fucked tonight? Do you let other men fuck you like this?” He asked whilst delivering harsh slaps to your ass.
“No… no one else… ever.” It was true. You'd never let yourself do something like this before.
“I wanna tie her up, Hyung.” The shorter, the younger of the pair, said, and you were suddenly moved to standing.
They stood you against the post of the four-poster bed frame, and with the rope that tied the the bed curtain to the post, they tied your hands above your head, securely to the post.
The younger man was on you. You could only see his mouth and barely his eyes. The rest of his face discreetly and cleverly concealed. His breath smelled like the alcohol, hot on your neck. He seemed familiar. Did you know him? Has he been here before? How long has he wanted this moment?
His hand edged under your skirt, his fingers slipped straight through your wet folds. You gasped. Fuck you were ready. The man in front of you knew it too. With his free hand he’d managed to release his cock. He smirked when he saw your eyes fixed on his throbbing, leaking member. He whispered so deep and so sexy into your ear. “You want this deep in your cunt, huh?”
You nodded.
“Words, kitten.” The other man said from the side. He seemed to be just watching, observing for now.
“I want it. I want your cock.” you whispered. The man lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around him as he slammed into you. His cock felt big, the stretch satisfying. He dug his fingers into your thighs as he railed into you. His lips found yours. He was rough, but passionate. It was like he’d been waiting for this moment forever.
You felt the other man approach from the side and start exploring, inspecting, your body. His fingertips drifting down under your ass to grasp the butt plug. He licked the side of your neck while the other man buried his face into the other side, scratching you with his mask. You could feel herself losing your sense of what was happening, and allowed yourself to just enjoy what was unfolding.
The man tugged at the plug making you groan. You wanted to hold onto something to ground yourself, but you couldn’t with your hands tied the way they were. He kept teasing you, pulling the plug out part way, and then pushing it back inside. You moaned loudly.
“If you think that feels good, wait till my cock's in there.” He growled and started to fuck you slowly with the plug.
The sensations were too much. The man fucked you with his cock so relentlessly and the extra stretch of the plug dragging in and out of you was sending you over the edge. “I’m gonna come.” you choked.
“Fuck!” The man inside her cried when he felt your walls pulse around him. “I’m fucking coming too.” He grunted and emptied himself in you.
“My turn.” The older man stated. You glanced over to him. He’d gotten naked at some point, (although still in a bucket hat and mask), whereas the younger was still fully dressed.
He swapped places with the man who’d just cum inside you, and now he was fucking you just as fast, but less frantically. He rolled into you in such a way that hit that sensitive spot inside you. You watched the man’s mouth as he kept thrusting into you. It hung open in awe, his lips so kissable. You imagined how they'd taste, how they’d feel to bite into.
“You’re doing so well for us pretty girl. Think you can come again, this time for Min-“ The older man shot the younger a look, cutting off his sentence.
Two more thrusts and you came again, and so did the man inside you, mixing his semen with the previous man’s.
He pulled out, cum leaking from you almost immediately, and the younger man was back, kneeling at your feet catching as much cum as he could in his mouth and licking the rest off your thighs.
“We’re going to tie you up again, babydoll. Up on the bed.”
You did as you were instructed, climbing up onto the bed, with the men pulling and tugging the rest of your lingerie off along the way.
You laid down on your back, head on the plush pillows. The younger man discarded his clothing, and climbed up to hover above you. His broad shoulders, toned stomach and slim waist set your insides on fire. But what made you melt into a puddle was they way he spoke to you. The way he whispered in your ear, it made you quiver. This man had a bedroom voice if ever she heard one.
“Are you doing okay, pretty baby?” He whispered.
You reached up and ran your finger along his lips, and he dipped his head to kiss you. His tongue caught yours and you tried to wrap your legs around his trim frame. But you couldn’t because the other man had taken one of your legs, pulling it wide and tying it with another rope tie. He went around the other side of the bed and did the same to your other leg.
“I fucking love how flexible you are. Look at you, doing the splits like that… so exposed to us.” He said admiring his work.
He climbed up onto the bed and nestled in next to the younger man to inspect your pussy. He kissed your inner thigh that was still sticky with their cum. “So fucking sexy.” He growled and bit into your thigh, then crawled up beside your face and pushed his cock into your mouth. “That’s it, kitten. Let me fuck that gorgeous mouth of yours. ”
He fucked your face harshly while the other was delicately devouring you from below with his mouth and fingers.
“Is this what you imagined would happen when you brought us in here and locked the door? It is, isn’t it?” He pushed his cock further into your throat making you gag, then pulled out to kiss your mouth roughly. “I’m gonna give you everything you dare to imagine in that slutty little head of yours. You know that don’t you sweetheart?”
“Come taste her.” The man below moved to lay up next to you taking your mouth with his, and the older wasted no time lifting his mask enough to dive between your legs and latch onto your clit. He really had done a good job of tying you up. You couldn't move and everything was on display and glistening just for him.
The younger took his attention to your breasts, cupping them, squeezing them, sucking the nipple.
“Please…fuck me again.” you cried. You were so desperate to have him inside you again.
They both took turns fucking you while you were tied up spread-eagled to the bed. They brought you to orgasm and filled you with their cum. You didn’t think you could take any more, yet you didn’t want to stop.
“You’re doing so good for us, baby. Perfect little fuck toy.” The younger praised her.
It was the older's turn again. “I wanna fuck your ass now.” He said as he untied you and pulled the plug from your ass and pushed himself inside you carefully. You cried out at the burn, but the way he moved was skilled and you relaxed around him. The pain quickly turned to an intense pleasure.
“Here, I know you like to prep yourself.” He threw the plug towards the other man. Who proceeded to push the toy inside himself with a sigh of relief.
The older man closed his eyes as he savoured the feeling of the moment, and the younger caressed you, whispering dirty words in that sexy voice.
“It’s time to fuck her at the same time.” The older abruptly pulled out without coming. It was like he had a sudden bright idea that he needed to try. He positioned himself on his back on the bed, using the pillows to achieve a semi reclined position.
“Come lay on me.” he pulled you onto him so your back was against his chest. “That’s it. Fuck…yes.” He hissed he pushed his cock into your sopping cunt.
“Let me hold your legs out of the way, make room for him.” The older said said gruffly.
The younger’s eyes widened. You bit her lip. Did he mean -?
“You're gonna be a good little kitten and let two strangers fuck your tight little cunt at the same time? Safeword?” His hand gripped your neck, the other the under your thigh and slamming his hips up into you.
“Yes! Fuck yes… please… I wanna try.” you whimpered.
His movement came to a stop. He turned your head to capture you in a deep kiss.
“Please...I wanna feel you both together.”
The younger hovered over you, dick in hand. He looked bewildered. “Min- Um… I’m not gonna fit…” His big eyes looked to how your pussy was already being stretched with his dick. Then he looked at your face. “Please.” you begged.
The younger took another moment to muster his courage, and the older lifted you halfway off his cock to try and help with positioning. You had never done this before, but you had been thinking about it for so long. You'd fantasised about it a lot that’s for sure.
The younger brought his cock close and began to, very slowly, very carefully push in alongside the other man’s dick. Everyone gasped. The stretch was beyond what you could’ve ever imagined. From the sounds the men were making, they’d never been squeezed so tight.
“Oh my… fuck… more… please… more.” you whimpered deliriously. Eventually the two men were inside you, fucking your cunt together. The intensity causing all three of you to make the loudest most obscene noises that you were sure that someone would come knocking down the door.
Your orgasm was the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced in your life. Your entire body convulsed between the men. They held you and whispered praise to you as you rode out your high. They weren’t far behind. With a few cries of “fuck” and “I’m fucking coming”, the men released themselves, their semen mixing together deep inside you.
Afterwards, they wiped you down, carefully removing any semen from your body and handed you a glass of water. They held you gently while you basked in the most insane experience of your life.
“You were so fucking perfect, baby.” The younger man held you close like he didn’t want to let you go.
Eventually, they dressed themselves and left the room.
You got dressed too, slipping on a slinky evening dress, fixed your hair and made your way out the the main room where all the clients and entertainers were enjoying drinks and nibbles.
You looked across the room to see two young men in dinner suits, a drink in their hands. You knew them well. Jisung and Minho. As if sensing your stare, they both looked up and met your gaze. You blushed. Your insides were on fire. Minho winked and turned to go speak to someone, but Jisung's gaze lingered a little longer before he gave a you curt nod and joined his friend.
You smiled to yourself and went and mingled with the guests.
a/n: This was an updated version of a story i wrote about a year ago. i fucking forgot i wrote she was wearing a butt plug!!
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@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23
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m-ayo-o · 4 months
Text
 ✦ ˚ pink skirt . no underwear ★⋆. ࿐࿔
𐙚 afab reader x shy alt bf Choso Kamo
* ✦ .  nsfw cw: fingering  ˚ .   * ✦ ˚ .   
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Choso is starting to think you're doing it on purpose.
He's losing his mind.
If he sees you bend over like that one more time, he swears he's gonna have to--
"Fuck-"
He mutters and looks away.
His fantasies of pushing the skimpy material up to feel your creamy pussy in his hand riddles his mind until he goes pink in the cheeks. He has to play with the ring hooked through his bottom lip to distract himself. But he knows that you'll find out what he's thinking eventually. You always do.
He sighs and feels his boner strapped tight in his jeans that's rubbing with every movement of his body. If he so much as breathes he can feel the heavy pulse of his cock. It's beating hard for you and he can't stop it.
"Baby, you okay?"
He tries to adjust himself under your gaze and he props himself up, attempting to hide the massive bulge.
"Mm," he nods stiffly, but you can see he's suffering.
Your eyes drift over his body in those black jeans, his black tank, admiring the tattoos adorned on his rippling muscles. His silvery studded necklace gets your attention, then his lip and ear piercings and the faded, violet shadows around his deep eyes.
He stares back at you; your tits nearly spilling from your tiny white vest, the pleated pastel mini skirt that just hides your ass, and the way you look at him with such wide eyed adoration.
Fuck, how did a guy like him end up with someone like you.
"Come here, please."
Choso has got a bit better about telling you when he needs you.
"Here, yeah," he nods and watches you mount his lap. Your skirt fans over his thighs and he can't stop imagining your pussy underneath.
"What is it, baby?" You coo and twist his spiky locks in your fingers, that are flicking down over his neck.
You never thought someone who looked like him could be so... clueless.
He seemed quite inexperienced when you met him, yet he insisted he'd had a few sexual partners before. It's not as if he's innocent. Oh no, far from it. You know, with the way he stares at you, there are all sorts of perverted thoughts in his head. He's just a little shy.
"I, uh..." the way he stumbles over his words makes your heart race. He's so endearing.
You lower yourself onto him, sitting on his lap and feeling the bulge of his cock through his hard jeans.
"Baby, tell me," your delicate fingers trace the ink up his neck to where it stops at his jaw, "tell me what you need."
"W-want-" he stutters and sighs.
You smile sweetly, encouraging him.
"I- I want to touch you."
"Oh, baby, good boy," you place a chaste kiss on his cheekbone.
"Where, hm?" You press, stroking his swollen chest.
"I..." he finds the courage to snake a hand up the curve of your back. The rings on his fingers feel cool where he settles around your neck, stroking you softly.
He pulls you close and gives you a nervous look before quietly admitting-
"I want to finger you."
You smile and giggle, knowing that this big, scary looking man could barely tell you that.
You give his lips a peck, then take his breath away when your tongue slides over his. He's so stunned he almost forgets to kiss you back, until he regains an inch of composure and starts licking and sucking at you.
"You're so sweet, Choso~" you smile over his lips before pulling away and dragging his hand down south. Your tiny hand encircles his inked wrist, barely fitting around the muscle of his forearm, and his fingers start twitching when you guide him under your skirt.
"Mm- warm-" he groans and slides his fingers over your bare pussy, parting you slowly, rubbing up and down. Despite his shy nature, he has got very good at touching you.
His hand parts your legs wider and his eyes dip up and down your clothed body. You look so pretty like this. His dark eyes focus on your face and you feel his fingertips edge into your entrance. Your expression starts to contort and your mouth hangs open. His breathing gets a bit shaky now, his eyes trained on your parted lips.
He sinks inside. Two fingers; ringed, thick and deep.
You shudder and his free hand caresses your back, steadying you on his lap as he presses his palm all the way to your pelvis.
"B-big-"
There's a pleased spark in his dull eyes and he bites his lip, feeling your silky, wet walls around him. He spreads his digits, opening you gently with your mouth gaping wider in tandem.
"Oh-"
You let out a little noise that encourages him to dip and curl his fingers. He finds his favourite spot inside you that makes his angelic girlfriend look like some kind of pornstar.
He massages you there with his fingertips, barely moving, feeling you grinding down on his knuckles.
"M-more-"
"Baby- I, I-"
"More, please-"
You should know better.
"I can't take it when you beg for me like that."
He holds your thigh gently and drags his fingers out, pulling them from under your skirt and oggling the slick juice all over his hand. Just from a few gentle movements you get like this. For him.
You watch lust completely take over and he sinks his fingers into his mouth, sucking every last drop of you off and leaving his digits coated in saliva.
He brings them back under your skirt and plunges inside you, hard rings nudging your entrance with every rough pump.
And he watches you scream.
Every time he slams his fingers into you his palm slaps your clit and you get sweet, jolting pleasure through your abdomen. You feel tense and hot and his thumb suddenly slips over your bundle of nerves, circling you quickly and making you cum hard and fast.
"Ch-cho - Choso-"
You pant for breath but his fingers are unrelenting.
"Again."
His voice sounds rough, deep and full of confidence.
It makes you quiver and shake and he grabs you more firmly, seeing your eyes go wide with shock when he picks you up.
He plants you on the fluffy carpet and kneels between your legs, pushing up your skirt to reveal his wet dream.
His fantasy.
"I love you"
You don't know if he's talking to you or your pussy but you really don't care.
He stares at all the gushing, clear liquid that's leaked all over your folds, over your thighs, dripping from one hole down to the other.
He sinks down and has a smile on his face, shoving his fingers back inside and toying with your clit with his spare hand.
He loves playing with you like this, adoring the look on your face every time you cum. He wants you to do it again and again, making you call his name, spilling more of your essence, all for him. He licks it off his fingers and hand like some thirsty beast and doesn't show any signs of slowing down.
But you knew what you agreed to. When Choso asks to touch you it usually is for a very long time.
He has to take you over the edge numerous times, obsessing over the feeling of you cumming and the way your face looks. And when your orgasms start to fade and you're just a wet, leaking mess with a hole spread wide from his greedy fingers, you have to take a few deep breaths and tell him to calm down.
He gets the message and slowly draws his fingers out one final time, tugging your hole with his thumbs and seeing you gape open. He bows his head down, sinking into your stomach where he presses soft kisses.
You play with his hair gently and he coos into your soft skin, telling you how much he loves you and needs you till you feel his hot tears running over your tummy.
You comfort him and tell him he did so well, until he dries his eyes and gives you a smile, bringing you up for a hug.
"W-won't get so carried away- next time- promise."
You hope he does. In fact, you're counting on it.
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choso | m.list
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crushmeeren · 6 months
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����Todoroki/Fem Reader SFW & NSFW Headcannons
Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+; continue scrolling or block if you’re not into this
Warnings; cursing, making out, Shouto is a champ at eating pussy (he has a tongue ring in this), ass eating, vaginal fingering, small bit of spanking, Shouto is a little bit subby in this (his moans & some of the things he says), dirty talk, Shouto has a bit of a praise kink, Shouto holds your hands behind your back when you ride him😮‍💨
Authors Note; sorry if this is too long- I had to complete the headcannons for my favorite three MHA boys sooner rather than later. I love Shouto, he deserves all the good things and a lot of hugs.
Hope you all enjoy these headcannons as much as I enjoyed writing them!
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Shouto who comes off as cold, uninterested, maybe a bit of a dick, but who is actually so sweet & so loving, who is actually the kind of person that writes down facts about you so he doesn’t forget them (you found the list in his notes app—you definitely cried), who always buys extra of what he’s eating —so you can have some too (even if you said you weren’t hungry)
Shouto who doesn’t get social cues very well, who tilts his head when he’s confused, who wears a blank, spaced out expression on his face often, who lets you teach him how to read the room a bit easier, whose smile could actually melt ice with its warmth (Shouto makes the most facial expressions when he’s with you— you take that as a win)
Shouto who you met in high school, but weren’t really friends with— or dated until after you all graduated, who you crossed paths with while battling a villain, who you caught mid air when he was falling from the top of a building, on the verge of passing out (he says he swears he saw you with a halo, because he fell in love with an Angel that day)
Shouto who loves to drink strawberry milk, who has so many cartons cluttering the fridge in your home, who also brings you a glass when he’s drinking some, because he’s learned he can also show you he loves you by sharing what he likes with you (you think it’s so motherfucking cute when you are handed a glass of milk out of the blue)
Shouto who decides to be a bit rebellious after he gets out of high school, who wants to try new things, who decides to cut his hair shorter, who gets a nose ring, who pierces his ears (not to mention his tongue ring— you almost fainted when you noticed it the first time🥵) who goes with you when you get your own tattoos & piercings—he often wears jewelry that reminds him of you
Shouto who says his absolute favorite thing in the world is to snuggle up with you on the couch, when it’s raining, when the two of you are wrapped up in a fluffy blanket burrito, watching movies & napping (if it gets a little X rated, who can judge you😮‍💨)
Shouto who is a fucking dry texter, but who sends you pictures of things he knows you love while he’s out on patrol, especially pics of dogs that he encounters (he even ends up bringing one home for you), who gets so happy when you respond with pictures of things you know he enjoys—sort of making your own language with one another
Shouto who likes to wear more of a streetwear style when he’s not working (to your never ending delight), who likes to wear matching clothes with you (shoes, shirts, even matching colors, etc.), who even bought you both a pair of matching underwear (because it makes him feel like a part of you is with him—you did feel a bit smug, knowing you were technically sitting on his face all day)
Shouto who sucks ass at almost every video game, but who can annihilate anyone at Mario Kart, bitter because you don’t think you’ve ever beaten him, (although whenever you and your friends gather at your home, the highlight of the night is watching Bakugou lose to Sho over & over)
Shouto who has stayed close to Midoriya, considering the man as his brother by extension (you love the green haired man & see him often), who goes to the #1 hero for help planning you a surprise party by sending Midoriya a series of increasingly concerning emojis until he agrees (he was nervous he would mess it up—he didn’t)
Shouto who loves to eat peach gummy rings?? (not the only peach he likes to eat👀), who you have woken up to eating the candy at 2:00 am (you just take one and go back to sleep), who memorizes your favorite candy and leaves it for you to find everywhere— even your car (you love Shouto so goddamn much)
Shouto who has told you the story of how he got his burn mark, about his father, his brother and all the horrors of his past, who opened up to you—trusting you completely, wanting to share a side of himself others don’t see (you absolutely cried), who you trust in return—telling him everything about yourself & your own past
Shouto who has taken you to meet his family, meet his mother, who added you to the group chat with all his siblings (they are actually a lot of fun, even if Shouto only replies with one word answer or gifs), who tries to fit his face with more than one expression when he meets your parents (you tell him it doesn’t matter, because he’s perfect for you either way—that earns you another million watt smile)
Shouto who loves you wholly, deeply, completely, who is your soul mate, who is your best friend, who planted the seed of his love in your heart that has grown bigger than a California Redwood tree, who becomes your husband, who you love more than life itself—you’d start a war for this man (he’d do the same)
🍰Warning NSFW Below🍰
Shouto who enjoys kissing, who loves to lazily make out with you, who feels his cock start twitching in his briefs when the kiss starts to get heated & messy, lips slick as they glide together, who gets half hard when your tongue plays with his, whining gently when you tilt your head—flicking the tip of your soft tongue against his
Shouto who likes to lay you on your back in the bed, stripping you until your only in one of his large T-shirts, who likes to push it up your belly—slowly letting it get caught on your tits until he can watch them fall and bounce, who makes you keep the shirt up around your collarbone as his warm, wet mouth sucks on your nipples, pussy throbbing—no doubt wet as fuck now
Shouto who bites over the skin on your sternum, plush lips trailing down your belly until he gets to your pussy, who grips the bottoms of your thighs pressing them backwards to your chest, who gets onto his belly, looking up at you as he licks a stripe from your pussy lips up to your clit, making sure he swirls the cold metal of his tongue ring on the heated flesh (immediately you’re gripping the sheets, whimpering fuck Sho! when warm tingles radiate down to your toes)
Shouto whose eyes flutter closed while he eats you out, who moans into your pussy—vibrations you can feel throughout your groin, who makes you squeal when he sucks your clit—tongue ring feeling electric with every swipe of his tongue, who eagerly says pussy tastes s’good Angel, can I eat your ass? pretty please baby? (you flip over immediately)
Shouto who gets you both completely naked, whose cock is standing straight out when you take a look at it, who gets your ass in the air, face shoved into the sheets, who rains his hand down on your ass cheek, pain flaring brightly up to your hip, who gives you no break—gripping the thick flesh of your ass and spreading you open, kitten licking at your asshole (you almost scream—once again the sensations increased ten fold by the contrast of his chilly tongue ring)
Shouto who shoves his middle two fingers in your pussy with no warning, tearing a gasp from your chest, who finger fucks you and sucks on your tight hole until your lower belly tightens, pussy clenching his fingers, cumming hard, who fingers you through your orgasm— stroking his cock as he whines to you Angel your pussy is so fucking tight, wanna fuck you so bad, please can I? (you say yes immediately)
Shouto who knows you’re a pillow princess, who loves it, but has actual hearts in his eyes, cheeks flushed a sweet pink when he’s able to convince you to ride him for a little bit—reverse cowgirl style, who props his back against the headboard with a couple pillows, who pulls your hands behind your back—holding your wrists together in one hand
Shouto who spreads your ass with his free hand, whimpering uncontrollably as he watches his cock disappear into your pussy as you bounce in his lap, whose dick throbs and who sucks in air sharply between clenched teeth when you moan f-fucking hell Sho, your cock is so good, so big, gonna make me cum as you throw your head back
Shouto who can only take it for so long before he pushes you off his cock, manhandling you onto your back whispering in your ear gonna fuck your sweet pussy now, okay Angel? as he grips his shaft, feeling how slippery you’ve gotten his cock, sliding his dick all the way in with one thrust—making you cry out and dig your nails into his shoulders
Shouto who bends you in half, knees hooked over his shoulders as he squishes you into a mating press, who fucks you hard, hips curling up into your sweet spot, making you feel each drag of his cock, cumming within the first five strokes—& then again and again and again, orgasms popping in you like water balloons, pleasure gushing all the way up to your brain
Shouto who chokes on his moans as your slick, warm pussy squeezes his cock over & over, voice low & needy when he whines into your ear Angel please, cum on my cock one more time, need it baby, pretty please-m’gonna cum soon
Shouto who does make you cum one more time, who makes you start to feel dizzy from cumming & the angle you’re pretzeled into, you’re able to focus just enough to speak in between moans, saying Sho, hah—oh fuck! Sho, you’re such a good boy, fuck me so well, love your cock Sho, love you baby���who cums instantly when he hears your sweet voice praising him, high pitched, needy sounds falling from his lips as he grinds his hips against your ass, cumming in warm, sticky ribbons
Shouto who makes you feel like you have noodles for limbs, breathing heavy as you both feel giddy with the post orgasm glow, who unravels you slowly, pulling out & letting you spread out like a starfish, who flops down on your side, who lets you collect your thoughts—lacing his fingers with yours as you both relax into the mattress
Shouto who eventually gets up to clean himself, who brings you a warm wash cloth and cleans you, who finds the shirt you were previously wearing and some clean panties after he gets dressed, who pulls you into a hug—telling you how much he loves you, planting kisses all over your face & you do the same—Shouto who goes to the kitchen & then brings you a glass of strawberry milk 💕
5K notes · View notes
fox-guardian · 2 months
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[ID: An eight page digital comic featuring Sam, Celia, and Alice from The Magnus Protocol on a gray background. The characters are all colored with a single color each. Sam is red, Celia is green, and Alice is pink. Sam is a fat Arab man with short curly dark hair, a mustache, and a small goatee, and he is wearing small black earrings, a cardigan, a turtleneck, trousers and loafers. Celia is a taller Korean woman with short dark hair and she is wearing rectangular glasses, piercings including an industrial piercing, an x-shaped earring, and snakebites, a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a vest, trousers, and black wrist cuffs. Alice is an even taller white woman with long fluffy hair and crooked teeth, and she is wearing cat eye glasses, three pairs of earrings, snakebites, a flannel shirt, a hoodie tied around her waist, a patchwork skirt, bracelets, and a lanyard.
Sam and Celia are stood at a table covered in papers. Celia urgently turns to Sam. Celia: Alice is coming! She can't catch us researching, we need a diversion, QUICK! How can we make her think we're not doing what we're doing? Sam, shrugging really hard: UHHHH she thinks I have a crush on you?? Celia, sweating, turns back to where Alice is coming from, panicked, and turns back to Sam, shrugging and reaching for him. Celia smiling a bit manically: Yeah, that'll work, sure!
Sam, with Celia's hands grabbing his cardigan: Wait whaAAAA- He is pulled out of frame. Alice walks in: Hey Sam, working hard or hardly woOOOAA She leans on the doorframe as she holds a hand to her chest in shock.
The next panel is rendered with soft pink shadows and "shoujo sparkles" in the now pink background. Sam is sitting on the table holding onto Celia, whose face is buried in his neck as she wraps one arm around his back and the other holds up one of his legs under his knee. Neither of their faces are visible. The rest of the page fades back to gray from there. Sam and Celia look over at Alice, hair ruffled, Sam is now blushing. Sam: ALICE!! He pushes Celia away and they look at each other for a moment, panicked. Sam: It's- .... exactly what it looks like! Celia: Aw, you've caught us! He rests his hands on her shoulders and they both look in opposite directions as though embarrassed. Celia is also blushing lightly. There are red and green neon signs pointing to them reading "Totally Ham-Slammin'" and "GAY! (in an M/F way)" respectively.
Alice looks to be in shock with a vacant expression and a computer pop up over her forehead reading "Alice.exe has stopped responding". In the next panel she is fine again and back to smirking. Alice: WOW SAM, didn't know you had it in you! Now I'm no snitch, so I didn't see anything, BUT- you lovebirds should cut it out before Gwen catches you. Celia and Sam look at each other anxiously, cheeks pressed together as she speaks. Alice: You KNOW she'd tell Lena. Celia, pulling back and smoothing her hair out: Oh, for sure. Sam: Th-Thanks, Alice. Alice: Don't mention it! I'll give you crazy kids a minute to straighten up, TA-TA~ She waves as she leaves.
Sam and Celia listen to her steps fade before going "phew" and finally pulling away from each other, now holding hands at an arms distance. Celia: You alright? That was kinda sudden.... Sam: It's fine! Just a bit caught off guard. Celia: I can't believe she actually bought all of that! Sam: Me either! Works for me, though.
Celia: Did you want to get down- Sam, pulling away suddenly, blushing again: NO! He crosses his legs and looks away sheepishly, scratching his head. Sam: I wanna stay here another minute or so.... Celia, concerned: You sure you're alright? Sam: Yeah! Just, er.... Celia looks at him, confused. Sam, blushing increasingly harder: Ahem. (He folds his hands in his lap politely.) I am not immune to being thrown on a table. Celia, smiling and politely stepping away: AH! .... Noted~
She walks away casually, still smiling. Celia: I'll give you a minute to collect yourself. Sam, head down in his lap, embarrassed: Thanks.... He looks up after she leaves. Sam: Wait. He straightens up, slightly panicked, face entirely red. Sam: What do you mean by "NOTED"?!
end ID]
~~~~
i am SO glad this episode didn't entirely debunk the silly headcanon that birthed this comic. initially i wasn't convinced sam actually had a crush so i made this like "well if he didn't before, HE DOES NOW" so.... here's this silly comic thing <3 i just think they're neat <3
2K notes · View notes
januaryembrs · 2 months
Text
BLACK CAT GIRLFRIEND | Spencer Reid x reader
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request: Hey Congratulations on the 2K! Do you think you could write something with Spencer Reid and a Reader who has lots of tattoos and/or piercings? Like she's the whole "bad girl" stereotype but Spencer and her complement each other so well and have a very sweet and mature relationship. I would love something like that.
description: the team meet Spencer's new girlfriend and she doesn't look quite like they'd imagined
word count: 1.1k
main masterlist
authors note: I officially hit 2k followers this morning!! see my post here for requesting but lets start this milestone off with a bang!! thankyou so much :))))))
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Morgan had to admit, you weren’t exactly what he’d envisioned when Pretty Boy had been talking his ear off for months about the girl in his apartment building that had slipped him your number. He wasn’t judgemental, not by a longshot, but Spencer had always seemed like the type to date the preppy, library geek, or even the cutesy geneticist if Maeve had been anything to go off of. 
It’s not like you weren’t hot, he could see that you were a mile away, but you looked like you’d sooner break someone’s wrist for so much as talking to you than fall for their resident genius. 
You smiled tightly, shaking Derek’s hand with a crushing grip, as Spencer introduced you to his team, the obnoxiously loud bass almost drowning out his words as the six of you stood in the bar. 
“Nice to meet you, Spencer talks about you all the time,” You said politely, and no sooner had you let go of the man’s warm hand, two arms were thrown over your shoulders and you were tugged into a hug. 
“I’m Penelope- oh you’re so pretty, Morgan isn’t she so pretty? You should marry Spencer then you can be boyfriend girlfriend for, like, life-” The perky voice was all a jumble as the blonde pulled away, cupping your face, rubbing down your arms kindly, sweetly, like you were swallowing a warm spoon of honey. 
“Penelope, newbie rules, remember,” Emily chimed in, seeing your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of personal space. She could see this ending with the pretty pink bows Garcia had plaited her hair in torn to shreds on the sticky floor, right next to her long barbie locks if your intimidating figure was anything to go off, “Not everyone likes hugs,”
“No, no,” You replied, smiling gently at the woman who was softer than cotton candy, “Hugs are nice,” 
“We’re going to be very best friends, I can feel it, which is funny because my tarot actually said I’d meet a strong Taurus woman- or are you a Scorpio-” Penny’s smile was dazzling, but she was soon ushered to let go of the bear like grip she had on your shoulders by a chuckling Morgan.
“Let the other kids play with her, babygirl,” He said, and you were pulled in another direction towards Emily who gave a polite handshake. 
“Nice ink,” She said with raised brows as she saw the intricate sketches that covered the back of your hands, trailing up your arm and under the band tee you wore. She knew who they were, though they only dragged up memories of her own days of thick eyeliner and rebelling against her mother. “They must have hurt like a bitch, I got one on my hip and could barely sit for one hour,” 
You snickered, nodding, seeing her eyes trailing over the ones on your ankles and knees where your ripped jeans flashed them all. 
“Bones hurt the most, though the one on my ass is up there for the worst ones,” You replied, and Penny’s brows shot into her hairline, though she giggled like a schoolgirl being told a secret.
“I think we’re gonna need to see the proof on that one,” Morgan teased flirtily, the way he always did, the way he did even with JJ who had a whole child and partner, because it was his natural state of being. 
Spencer smiled as his team warmed to you, though he was quick to pull you to him with a gentle arm around the waist. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Derek, that man was practically his brother, he’d taken bullets for the guy, but he liked having you close, even if to just remind himself that you were all his, including said tattoo on your buttcheek that he’d seen plenty of times. 
The team didn’t need to know that, but you could tell your words had reminded him of it as he pressed a shy kiss behind your ear.
He was careful to avoid the studs and links that glittered from your ear lobe, wrapping over the cartilage on your helix, though he loved to stare at them on nights where you tied your hair up and he could count every one of them. To him you were a work of art, complex and detailed with every glance he stole. You were an illustration in one of his many books, everything he imagined for himself times a million. 
“I’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” You said, looking up at him with puppy eyes, like a lovestruck teenager, fat adoration in your gaze. It oozed out of every inch of you, and JJ thought for a moment that you looked nothing like the scary doberman woman that Spence had originally brought over to meet them. You looked in love, the saccharine, soft and dazed kind of in love. 
“Let me get it for you,” Spencer rooted around his pocket for his wallet, turning to see Morgan’s beer bottle running low, “You having another one?”
“I’m good, my man, you just sort yourself and your lady out,” Derek flashed him a thousand watt smile and clapped him on the shoulder as you entwined your fingers with his, pulling him through the cluster of people and towards the bar, “What a stud,” 
Penelope giggled again, leaning towards her adonis best friend with honeyglow cheeks, watching their genius get led like a dog on a leash. 
“Oh lover boy had got it bad,” She drawled, watching Reid, their Reid, develop an uncharacteristically protective stance as a few men at the bar shot looks up and down your body. She couldn’t blame them either, you were a sight for sore eyes. “Okay, so do I have to be the first one to point out how hot she is or have I maybe had one too many margaritas?” 
“She seems nice,” JJ chose her words carefully, still not entirely sure she would have ever put the two of you together but she saw the way Spence’s eyes got round and longing when he looked over you. He’d clearly said something to make you laugh, and an inked hand raised up to brush his chocolate curls out of his face lovingly, “She seems good for him,”
A murmur of agreement ran through the four of them, Emily taking one more sip of her martini as her eyes roved over your figure returning with something fruity and colourful, “Anyone else dying to know what’s on her ass?” 
-
2K notes · View notes
hanjisick · 3 months
Text
Orders.
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genre. mafia au. bodyguard!lee know x fem!reader
desc. your father is an elite, high ranking official in a mafia family. after your first kidnapping, a bodyguard was hired to ensure your safety.
warnings. nsfw. fingering & sex. torture. kidnapping. murder. violence.
wc. 10k
✉️ : this is my first writing after a 9 month hiatus. i apologize for the unannounced break and i will be answering and writing again shortly. enjoy! :)
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You sit in a wooden chair, wheezing and thrashing from days of sleep deprivation and torment. Your body aches, wrists bruised and bloody from the ropes, and you almost feel like giving in and spilling Daddy’s secrets— allowing them to kill you and the family.
But you knew better than that. You knew that you'd be saved.
The gunshots and cries for help weren't unexpected from above the dark bunker.
With an ear-piercing creak, the door swings open and the shadow of a man emerges through the doorstep, shoes squeaking with fresh blood underneath.
He doesn’t let out a single word as he kneels to grab your face and examine it. Your attention follows the ring on his finger. An insignia that he is part of the family. You can depend on him.
But still, you wince, sharply inhaling as his fingers aggravate your wounds.
“Don’t get their blood in my wounds, I don’t know what kind of freaks they are,” You grumble, voice husky from days of screaming.
You let him turn your head, retaining eye contact with the floor as you grit your teeth.
“Relax,” he mumbles, “I don’t bite.”
He leans closer to examine your wounds. “You took a lot of hits. How many people are here?”
He draws back as you reply, “Can’t tell you exactly.”
“About four of them grabbed me while I was leaving the house— stupid on their part, no wonder you were here so shortly,” You trail off before catching yourself back on topic.
“But I’ve only seen three different men since I’ve been here. Only to beat me and interrogate me. Don’t worry, I didn’t say anything to put Daddy at risk.”
“I heard two other unrecognizable voices. That would make nine people in the building that I know of. Of course, there could always be more. How many did you shoot?”
“Six,” he responds before looking down at your scrapes and wounds again.
You feel him caress your cheek once more, his cold skin sending shivers down your spine.
“You’re in bad shape.”
“If there’s more here, we need to get out as soon as possible. We can worry about my wounds as soon as these people aren’t on our ass.”
You struggle in your bounds, the ropes burning your already bloody wrists, “Could you untie me, first?”
“Don’t move.”
You obey his command, halting as he unties the ropes, uncovering the painful burn marks and blisters.
“That fucking hurt,” you rotate your wrists, “I could’ve gotten out without your help eventually, though.” Your voice is rough, breath coming out in harsh, sharp drags.
“Sure, you would’ve.”
You stumble to your feet as he pulls you into him for safety. He reeks of gunpowder and high-dollar cologne— presumably something that Daddy has made sure that he has the money for.
“Stay close to me, when we get to the front, you go out first and then I’ll leave right after.”
You follow the unfamiliar man out of the maze, almost slipping on the floor blanketed in blood.
You adjust to the bright sunlight— and it feels gentle against your damaged skin. It seems like time has stood still while you were captured. “Did Daddy order you a car?”
“Yes,” he answers, “Some men are waiting out front to take us to the closest hospital— which isn’t too far.”
“I’m being hospitalized?” You follow him into the backseat, finally slacking for a moment ontop of the fresh leather.
“It’s not my choice to have you taken to the hospital, it’s the orders.”
“Do I have a statement to tell the nurse?” You look at him in concern.
“Am I supposed to say, ‘Oh, I was kidnapped by Daddy’s enemies! By the way, he’s in the mafia! Who wants to arrest Daddy?’”
“Tell them you fell down the stairs.” His flat tone contrasts your own, remaining unfazed.
“How would that cover up my wrists' burn marks?” You hold up the bloody and bruised dents, “Nobody gets these from falling down the stairs. There's way too much blood— and some of it isn’t even mine.”
He raises an eyebrow, looking over to the burn marks on your wrist and then back to you.
“Then tell them you accidentally burnt yourself while cooking.”
“Are you even listening to me? Are you stupid?”
He doesn’t respond for a moment, not seeming to care about the situation.
“It’s not hard to pay them to be silent.”
“How about I tell them that I was heavily bullied at school and a couple of classmates did this to me? I think that could work.”
You two arrive at the front entrance of the emergency room, he follows behind you, strolling through the automatic door.
“I’m fine, really, I was just beaten by classmates,” You lie through your teeth to the front desk, “My boyfriend took me here to get it checked out.”
He raises an eyebrow.
You comply with the nurses as they check your weight and interview you.
“I don’t have any stab wounds, at least I don’t think so— I don’t remember what they did to me. I was held captive for a few,” Your voice trails off as you wince at a sudden pang.
You glance down at your bleeding side and are unexpectedly whacked with all of the distress that you had been repressing at once.
Your vision starts to fade, face pale as a ghost.
The man rushes over as they carry you to a bed, and he kneels beside you to review your condition. Your body is pale and cold, breathing jagged and rapid.
You hear the whispers of the staff panicking. One nurse checks your pulse, and another elevates your legs.
“I need my blood sugar up,” the first words that come out of your mouth sound weak and painful.
You look over at the man beside you.
You need to lie. But you don’t even know his name.
“Boyfriend,” you determine, “please get me a sugary drink from the vending machine.”
A subtle smirk forms upon his lips, but it vanishes as soon as it appears.
“Fine,” he rises to his feet.
You hiss as the nurses sterilize your wounds, shrieking and thrashing on the mattress at the sting. You try to stay still, but the pain is intolerable.
Footsteps echo and you find the man returning with a chocolate bar, which he holds out to you. He brings it close to your lips and holds the chocolate against your mouth for you to take a bite, “Slowly.”
“I told you to get me a drink,” You disregard his command, biting the chocolate quickly, almost aggressively.
His lips turn up, amused by your action.
The nurses finish stitching up your deep gashes and bandaging your wounds, recommending that you stay the night.
“Pay for the bill with Daddy’s cash and let’s get out of here,” you state coldly, “I need to shower and get all of this blood out of my hair. I don’t want to stay here.”
“As long as you can walk by yourself, we can leave right away.” He replies. The man takes out a wad of bills quickly counts the money and pays for the bill.
You stay speechless until entering the car.
“Who are you?”
“I’m your bodyguard. Your father hired me to look out for you after the kidnapping.”
You nod in acknowledgment. “Will you be staying at the estate with me? Or is it a ‘only when I leave the house’ kind of deal?”
“My primary duty is to protect you from anyone or anything that could harm you, whether that be outside or inside the house. I could go wherever you wish me to follow you, and I will be there.”
“You won’t sleep in bed with me though, right?”
He stays silent for a moment.
“You are correct, I am here to protect, nothing more. I will not sleep next to you. I am merely your bodyguard and take your orders.”
“Good boy,” you grin, “I bet Daddy will pay you very nicely. Why else would you take this job? How much does he give you? Either way, I’m sure you have enough to buy a mansion.”
The bodyguard holds back an eye roll. “I will have more than enough money. Not only that but he also provides me with a home.” He adds with a smirk.
“Good.” You reply.
You fall silent, allowing him to drive, taking in the past few days.
You were never worried about surviving, You understood that Daddy would handle it. But you didn’t expect to be as hurt as you were.
He could’ve saved you sooner.
“When we get home, order the chef to make me something sweet, I deserve a treat,” you state, “I’m going to shower and you are not allowed to enter my bathroom under any circumstance. Even if I’m dying.”
“You would die before letting me enter your bathroom? I get it.” He retorts.
Once you both arrive at the estate, you stumble out of the car. You don’t linger for him.
You’re welcomed by a handful of workers as you enter the home, but ignore them as you make a beeline up the stairs and towards the bedroom.
The door locks behind you and the room is silent. You feel the weariness creep on as your wounds sting. You lean against the door, sliding down.
After a moment of peace, you head towards the shower to comb the dried blood out of your hair.
You scrub your face carefully, avoiding the stitches above your eyebrows.
You wash your body entirely, removing the blood stains with soap, water, and a wash rag. Then you comb out the dried blood.
Once you finish, you dry yourself off and dress in a plain, silk nightdress.
Leaving your bedroom, you turn to look for your guard. He is at the doorway of your room when you walk out. His eyes roam around your body for a brief moment, examining the nightgown.
“Do you require assistance?”
“Did you place an order for something sweet, like I asked?” You peer at his suit, moving in to adjust his tie.
He follows your hand as it moves, eyeing you for a few moments before he utters, “I did, the chef will be bringing it to your room once it’s prepared.”
“Good boy.”
You look up at his face once you are pleased with the positioning. You grimace at his sharp, cold face. The blood was dried, brown, and unpleasing. The man’s hand relaxes on the gun holstered on his hip.
“I order you to come into my bedroom.”
His eyebrows crease. He understands his role as your bodyguard— nonetheless, he doesn’t get a kick out of being ordered around in this tone.
He takes a deep breath. “Your wish is my command.”
The room is massive, a silk-covered canopy bed sits in the center of it. He pays no mind to looking around, concentrating on the job at hand.
“Sit down on my bed,” you demand, steering towards the bathroom and pushing open the double doors.
He obeys your orders without question, crossing his legs, and keeping his hand resting beside his gun.
The bodyguard keeps a close, attentive eye on the doors, supervising the way that you soak a washrag with warm water, squeezing out the excess.
You sit beside him, grabbing his chin and leaning into his face. He tenses.
“Relax, I don’t bite,” you smirk, reiterating his first words from the moment he met you back to him, massaging the dried blood off of his face, “No guard of mine will have a messy appearance.”
You can tell that he feels uneasy, but he can’t reject you. If you wish for him to relax, he will make an effort to relax.
You can’t help but notice his complexion when he isn’t scowling. The apathy melts away as you wipe the dried blood, giving you a new perspective on his appearance.
“You’re handsome,” you state bluntly, “Especially without blood covering your face.”
You toss the rag into the laundry basket carelessly, waiting for a maid to take care of it.
“Thank you.”
“What is your name? You never told me.”
His eyebrows arch slightly at the question.“It’s Minho.”
“I am Y/N,” You reply, holding out your hand to shake his own. His grip is firm and warm.
He keeps a stoic face as he glances at your face and back at your hand, as if he is searching for an ulterior motive behind this handshake.
The food.
The bell rings and the sound of it shatters the stillness of the room. Minho’s head jolts towards the door, hand back on his gun.
He rises instantly, opening it to reveal the maid with a tray of sweet snacks.
He takes it from her. “I will bring it in.”
“What a good boy, Minho,” you praise, clapping your hands together as he sets the tray on your lap.
“I don’t take you for a man who enjoys sweet food much. Do you like sweets?”
“Sometimes.”
You unwrap a piece of high-dollar chocolate, “I command you to open your mouth.”
Minho can’t deny you, it would be disobeying your orders.
He opens his mouth as the chocolate is positioned between his lips.
You relish in the chocolates with Minho and once finished, you set the tray on the floor for a maid to pick up at sunrise.
“I don’t think I mind you being around all that much, Daddy makes good decisions.” You lay down on the mattress.
“Your father does make good decisions.”
His gaze wavered on your face until you drifted off to sleep. Only then did they slowly trail down to your body.
The way your body was built captivated him. Minho was glued to your sleeping form.
He stayed in the room, taking a seat on a chair in the corner to watch you.
He didn’t know how long it had been since you had dozed off, but by the way that the room was now pitch black and noiseless aside from your figure rising and falling, he would imagine that it had been a couple of hours.
“How long are you going to sit there?” Your sleep-filled voice questions him, causing him to snap out of his daze, hand reaching for his gun out of instinct.
“Do you sleep? Are you allowed to sleep?”
“I will only remain in the room as long as you order me to. I do sleep,” He replies, “Now is there anything else you need my assistance with? Or can I return to my duties?”
“So you’re only staying in the room because I ordered you two hours ago?” There’s a tinge of dismay in your voice, but it was masked by sleep, “You can leave if you want, I don’t mind.”
Minho felt a sudden pit in his stomach. You sounded disappointed by his statement.
Your words are perplexing him, and he can’t conclude what you want from him. To stay or to go?
“Should I stay for a bit longer?”
You were already asleep again once he had responded.
You and Minho both wake to a maid opening the blinds and ringing a bell. You groan, stretching your body.
“Miss, let’s get you dressed for today.”
She pulls your nightgown up above your head as Minho’s eyes wander toward your laced underwear.
“What’s on my schedule for today?”
He quickly forces his gaze to look away and stares back at the maid.
“We want you to heal from your injuries, miss,” she answers, “we will start with a nutritious breakfast to encourage recovery, and attend to your injuries, and then you will speak with Daddy about your incident.”
The maid buttons your fitted dress, glancing in Minho’s direction, “Your bodyguard will need to be there for your conversation with Daddy.”
“He will?”
“He needs to tell Daddy what he witnessed from the facility.”
You nod, following her lead down the stairs and towards the breakfast table.
Minho follows suit, remaining at your side the entire time and he watches you eat, staying observant and cautious.
“Are you hungry?”
This question catches Minho off guard.
“No.” He adds in a dull tone— but in actuality, he is starving. He was entrusted to watch over you. He shouldn’t eat on the clock.
“Maid, go order,” You look Minho up and down, “A side of crepes. Blueberry crepes. And two cups of coffee.”
The maid hurries to the kitchen to place the order, and it is brought out a couple of minutes later.
He stares at the crepes being placed on the table, and his belly grumbles. “Thank you.”
The maid carries the mugs of coffee to the table. But it doesn’t take Minho long to catch sight of her cunning smile and the perplexing liquid that the maid slipped into the mugs of coffee.
He stares quietly, calculating his next action.
“Don’t drink it.”
“Why not?”
Minho’s sight narrows as you bring the cup of coffee to your lips.
This time, his tone is warning and direct. “It’s better that you don’t.”
You halt your sip at his harsh command.
The maid pulls out a handgun swiftly after realizing that she has been caught, aiming it at you.
A switch swiftly flips inside of him.
He lunges forward, grabbing the woman’s wrist and twisting the gun to the right, snapping a couple of fingers in the process.
It’s a rapid movement, and he had little time to think before shooting her in the head, watching the life leave her body. His face is apathetic and almost casual.
The maid’s blood spilled onto the floor as the others ran to clean it up.
“He passed the test, we can keep him. A promising guard so far,” Daddy compliments from behind you, “Urgently acting to protect. He knew that she was mindless and weak. He comprehends crises well.”
The older man slips a wad of cash into the breast pocket of Minho’s suit. “Good on protecting her. That was a setup with a stupid maid who was just aching to betray us. You will have the same fate if you are wavered by another team.”
“I think he’s a good boy. He won’t betray me.”
“Y/N, meet me at my office. Guard, follow her.” He swiftly turns away to lead the two of you as you eye Minho.
“You can relax now. No more tests.”
He nods in understanding, heeding silently towards the office.
“Tell me about what you saw at the facility.”
You nod. “Four men had taken me from our garden entrance and used Chloroform to knock me unconscious. I woke up in their van, where my hands and legs were tied. I heard them talking about what they planned to get out of me. They had intentions of murdering me if they got to a week of no answers.”
Minho listens to your explanation with hawk-like eyes, paying close attention to all the details and descriptions.
You clear your throat, running your fingers across your bruised wrist, “I was tied to a chair in their questioning room, and they used forms of torture for me to open up.”
“I was deprived of sleep and beaten if they caught me closing my eyes— trying to get my lack of sleep to cause me to open up about your activities.”
Daddy nodded solemnly, leaning into his chair.
“Waterboarding was their favorite method, but they enjoyed beating me. I assume that was mainly for fun.”
You continued, “Minho appeared and killed a couple of them and saved me, but most are still alive.”
“Still alive? You didn’t find and kill them, bodyguard, why?” Daddy’s intense eyes moved toward Minho, who appeared unbothered.
The fact that he missed a few guys is enough to drive him crazy.
“I had to get her to safety as soon as possible.”
Daddy merely nods. “I will send my men after them. Y/N, did you get any names?”
“They wouldn’t tell me anything about themselves, but I saw a couple of signs of their rival gang.”
“Guard,” he veered towards Minho, “Describe the faces that you saw. I need as much information as possible.”
“They look to be between the ages of 20 to 30, their faces covered in scars. One man had dark skin, and his facial scars were faded. His most notable feature was a slit across his brow. He wore a dark suit. I left him alive but with a bullet in his arm. The other man had a lighter skin tone and his scars were similar to knife wounds. He had gotten away.”
The boss nods.
“Good. I can work with that. Never let my little girl get into trouble like that again, alright?”
The second the words ‘my little girl’ leave his mouth, Minho can’t help but gaze at you. He observes your reactions and motions.
His heart beats by hearing his boss call you that, and his attention is now focused on every single twitch that you make.
“The nurses will be waiting in her bedroom shortly. Be good and do as they say.” He adds, snapping Minho back to him.
“Guard, do not let her go against any of the nurses' rules. She can be convincing. Do not give into it.”
“Yes Sir.”
You roll your eyes, turning away to leave the room.
“Stay safe.” That is the last utterance of the boss before you drag Minho out of the room and towards the bedroom.
“Sit on the bed,” a nurse commands you, and you quickly obey.
She dabs at your abdomen stitches with antiseptic soap and your eyebrows furrow.
“You can’t move around much, got it? No exercising for three weeks until we get these stitches out.”
You agree as she moves on to your wrists, rubbing cream into them, “You’re going to visit us twice a day for six days until the healing is almost complete.”
She yanks a bandage off of your face, causing you to groan in pain. She rubs another ointment on it before substituting it with fresh dressing.
Minho supervises each step that the nurse takes, noticing how she takes care of your body as if it’s her most precious gift.
She turns to Minho, “I need you to make sure that she’s well rested, drinking enough water, and not doing many straining activities. Take her back here once again in the evening, and then we will see her again this time tomorrow morning, got it?”
“Yes, I will take care of her.”
“What about him, nurse?” You eye the small cuts across his face and hands.
She smiles and leans over to you. “He is well trained. Trust me, he’ll survive a few scratches.”
Your eyes narrow. “I order you to treat his wounds to the best of your abilities.”
She sighs. “Yes ma’am.”
She moves towards Minho and checks his wounds, patching the ones that were newly caused. She brushes his face softly with an ointment.
“I don’t like it when my guards don’t keep up a good appearance,” you try to explain away your worry for him, “and being injured will only slow you down when protecting me.”
The man stares straight ahead, listening carefully. “I’m fine. I’ll recover just fine. I don’t need much care as you do.”
“Let her rest now,” the nurse tells Minho, “order the maids to bring her a glass of water and have her sip on it until lunchtime.”
Once she leaves, Minho turns towards you, “I’ll make sure the maids bring you water. You need to stay hydrated”
Once water is on your table, your gaze returns to Minho
“Now, I order you to sit down on my bed with me.”
He examines you with a neutral expression and waits for you to say what you mean, not wishing to assume or take anything wrongly.
“Sit down with me,” you demand again, patting the spot beside you, waiting for him to follow suit.
As soon as you ask him to, Minho does not waver. He sits down beside you, body brushing your own.
You turn to meet his cold expression with intensity. “Do you like your job so far?
Minho is taken off guard by your switch of topic. He stays where he is sitting, but turns his body as well and faces you.
“I enjoy my duties.”
“Good. Because I’m fond of you. You’re handsome, and you are good at your job.”
He stares at you with slight surprise. “Thank you.”
Your hands grab for his, playing with the ring on his finger.
Then, you reach your hands higher, tugging his sleeve up to reveal a cluster of scars littered across his forearm.
“How long have you been in the business?”
“Since I was fourteen. I was trained from a very young age.”
“Have you always been in Daddy’s family?”
“I was loyal to your Daddy from the moment I knew what this life was like. I haven’t had a moment of doubt.”
“Good. That means you won’t leave us, right?”
“I will serve your family until my last breath. You have nothing to fear about that.”
“What a good boy,” you reach to ruffle his hair, landing a swift kiss on his sliced cheek. “That’s exactly what I like to hear.”
Minho stiffens.
“I order you to take off your jacket. I want to see your body. To see if you’re strong enough to be a good guard.”
Your words are sharp as a knife and they cut deep through his defense system. His jaw clamps and his breathing accelerates.
Minho swallows his breath, nodding his head. His movements are rigid, starting to cautiously peel off his jacket. It takes him a moment to unbutton it, but once his jacket is off, he stays there, waiting.
You slide his jacket to the floor, touching the muscles of his bicep through his button-down. “You’re fit. That’s good.”
Minho yearns for you to keep feeling him. To keep praising him. He swallows. Your words sound like a honey trap to him, and it’s working as intended.
“I order you to take off your tie.”
“Yes.”
That is all that he says, slowly slipping his tie from underneath his collar and tossing it aside.
Unexpectedly, you’re climbing on top of his body. “Take off your button-down.”
He unbuttons his shirt as your eyes sear into his chest. He is now only wearing a black undershirt.
“So many clothes,” you sigh out, groping his bare arms. You run your hands across his biceps, listening to him shudder underneath the touch.
“Take off your undershirt now. I want to see your chest.”
You can feel the heat radiating off him as he shivers. His body is now sensitive, and your hands are making it worse for him.
Your orders are evident, and he hastily lifts off his undershirt, waiting for what is next.
You can see his whole chest with all of its blemishes, with every muscle covered in sweat, exposed for you.
Your hands travel down his chest and abdomen, feeling each ragged scar with your bruised fingers. The delicate contact causes his breath to catch and a soft groan leaves him, fighting to not show that he relishes in your touch.
“Let me kiss you.”
He stares at you for a moment before his eyebrows slightly shift— his way of showing you that he approves of that request.
Minho leans in slightly and closes his eyes, gently placing a timid kiss on your lips.
You smirk against him, pushing him to lie against the bed frame and deepening the kiss. Your hands reach for his dark hair, clasping a handful in your grip.
He kisses you deeply and wraps his arms around you to pull you in closer, offering full control to you. His breath speeds up.
You pull away after a moment, lips brushing against his as you catch your breath, but only for an instant before moving towards his jaw, sucking marks onto his skin.
Minho quivers at your touch, his breathing speeding up once more as you leave red and purple blemishes on his skin. He bites his lip to stop himself from groaning.
Your mouth moves from his jaw to his neck, leaving kisses and hickeys all across him, making sure that he is covered in them.
Your hips grind against him, breathing heavily with anticipation as you make your way to his chest.
Your hands and mouth are touching all of him, and each sensation triggers a reaction that he tries to conceal.
Your lips hover back to his lips, staring at him longingly. “Do I have to command you for you to do anything to me? You don’t have to ask. You have my permission. Do whatever you want.”
You can see his gaze shifting from your eyes to your mouth, to your neck, and then towards your chest.
You swiftly lift yourself off of him to let him remove your dress, leaving your body as bare as his own.
You grasp onto his neck, bringing him in for another deep kiss. Minho remains silent as he kisses you, allowing you to leave him as many marks as you desire.
“What are you thinking, Minho? Speak to me.”
He takes a moment, letting out an unstable breath. “I’m thinking of what you are doing to me. I,” he stammers, “I want to make you feel good.”
“Then do it. Please.”
“I don’t want to harm you,” he breathes out, “you’re injured.”
“The nurses said to not do,” Minho presses his eyes shut as you bring your hips up to meet his, “fuck, anything straining.”
“Remember what Daddy said? I can be convincing.” You sneer as your bodyguard fails to keep his cool composure, but the aching cock pressing into you is giving his true desires away.
You eye his internal struggle between following your orders and his cravings, or the nurse and his boss.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I can go relieve myself in the bathroom.”
“I like being hurt.”
You notice his lip twitch at the comment, and you decide to provoke him further, grinding into him, and set a steady rhythm with your hips.
He groans as his head drops back, tugging onto your hair and trying desperately to control his breath, “Please, Y/N, I just want to take care of you.”
“You can take care of me in another way.”
“I need to follow orders.”
“Then I order you to fuck me.”
His eyes pinch shut as he tries to clear his head and reason with himself.
Perhaps if he were gentle, it would be alright.
But how long could he remain gentle when you were splayed out in front of him, willing to take anything that he gave to you?
He made his decision, gripping your shoulders gently and flipping you, pinning you to the bed, and surveying your face for any discomfort.
When he finds none, he impatiently unclasps his belt, throwing it to the floor along with his dress pants, leaving him in just his boxers.
You hold yourself up by your elbows, thighs pressed together and mouth watering at the man in front of you.
His hands were delicate, although they could easily snap you in half, as he unclasped your bra, leaving your top half bare.
Minho stopped to take in the view for a moment before grabbing at one of your breasts, his mouth attaching to the other.
Your whines were like music to him— something that he wanted to hear more of.
Your back arched in pleasure as he moved one hand down to your thigh, caressing it for a moment before slowly slipping his hand into your panties.
“Try to stay quiet, darling, I don’t want any staff checking on us,” He hushed you with his lips attaching to your own once again, feeling your wetness all over his calloused hands.
His thumb brushed against your clit and you whimpered into his mouth, clenching around nothing.
Minho then plunged two fingers deep inside of you and curled them. He was becoming lost in pleasing you, overlooking his own ache between his legs.
Your thighs shook beneath him, feeling him brush against your g-spot brutally. “Minho please, please just fuck me. I want you inside of me so bad.”
At your request, he slipped his fingers out, feeling your cries against his lips from the loss of friction.
“Yes ma’am.” He pulled away from your lips, replacing them with his now dripping fingers, lapping it up with his tongue.
Next, your ruined panties were yanked off of you, with his boxers soon to come after.
One hand gently relaxes on your hips, cautious to avoid aggravating your injuries as he uses the other to guide himself inside of you, a deep groan followed by your whines.
He gives you a moment to handle the stretch, but you hardly need it, already begging for him to move.
Minho cautiously thrusts, taking in a deep breath and furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. 
This is the ultimate test of patience for him. He needs to be as gentle as possible with you.
Ultimately, he sets a slow pace, hands locating themselves on either side of you, letting out uneven breaths as he tries to control himself from how good you feel around him.
“You really do care, don’t you?” Your hand reaches to cup his face, gazing into his eyes that are hazy with pleasure.
He keeps his response short, too concentrated on the waves of bliss through each thrust, “I do care.”
“Is it because you’re my bodyguard or something more?”
You study him, watching his adam’s apple move as he swallows deeply, inhaling sharply. He halts his thrusts for a brief instant.
“Both, maybe. I can’t tell.”
That was enough for you to continue, grabbing another handful of his hair and bringing him in for another hungry, deep kiss.
With each deep thrust, Minho’s mind got hazier and hazier, losing himself to pleasure bit by bit. You could feel it by the way his rhythm became rough and desperate, and his pace picked up.
One of his hands left your side, creeping towards your throbbing clit, causing you to let out sobs, all of which he ate up with his mouth against your own.
“Are you gonna cum for me?” He coos, knowing that you’re too lost in bliss to respond.
He takes your whines as a ‘yes’, his thumb rubbing circles faster, coaxing your orgasm out of you.
Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing your eyes closed and letting out a lengthy, drawn-out moan as his pace picked up even further.
“Just like that. You’re so good for me, so, so good, fuck,” he talked you through your orgasm between his thrusts, chasing his own high.
His brows crease, hips stuttering at how good it felt to have you gripping so tightly onto his cock. Finally, he let go, his load spilling inside of you and seeping out.
Both of you took an instant to catch your breath, coming down from your highs.
His hands slowly traced your curves in contentment, paying attention to the way your chest rose and fell.
Finally, he has a justification to gape at your body up close.
From your jawline to your hickey-covered chest, down to your bruised sides and stitches near your abdomen, and— Oh fuck.
Your wounds.
Minho slowly pulls away, feeling a sense of post-nut clarity and fright.
His hand slides away from your body, staring at you with concern.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, your own anxiety suddenly displayed on your face, “Do you regret it?”
“No! No,” He panics, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?“
Back in reality now, your wounds ache and your head pounds with exhaustion and overexertion.
His mind calculates the solutions to the situation— ways to explain to the nurses, to fix you, to help you feel better.
It was his shortcoming, after all. He let his urges get to him.
“Let’s run you a bath.” He pulls himself up, tugging on his boxers and heading towards the bathroom.
You hear the tap turn on, lying in bed trying to catch your breath. Your breath is harsh from both adrenaline and pain, but you can’t help but feel as though the latter is more of the cause.
You had slept with a small handful of men, primarily Daddy’s men, but none of them were quite like Minho.
He was tough but breakable. He was still kindhearted at his core— something that wasn’t all that common in the business.
You could tell from the way that he ran the bath, bare muscles glistening from sweat, running his hand through the water to make sure that it was the ideal temperature. How concerned he was about your protection, even through his pleasure.
Not many other men that you’ve met throughout your life have been the same way.
You’re quite fond of the man that you have just met.
You hear the water shut off and footsteps coming towards the room. He holds a faint smile as his steps come towards the bed. Your gaze slowly wanders to his physique.
“It’s ready for you.” He says in a slight whisper.
“I order you to pick me up and bring me to the bath.”
He nods at your order, hooking his arms underneath your thighs and back, his strong grip securing you.
You inhale the powerful stench of gunpowder stuck to his skin, finding comfort in your bodyguard’s presence.
“Will you wash my hair?”
Studying his expression, it’s hard to read, but you let him carry you and place you into the water.
‘I do care,’ you recall his words.
‘Is it because you’re my bodyguard or something more?’ ‘Both, maybe. I can’t tell.’
Perhaps you had feelings for the man, especially while he massaged shampoo into your scalp with tough hands, making sure to rub your temples.
“Have you ever been a bodyguard before?”
When Minho hears your question, he hums while he proceeds to wash you, working on scrubbing the areas where he touched you earlier. “No, you’re the first one I’ve been a bodyguard for.”
“I did things for your father before this. Not as a bodyguard, a more, I guess, dangerous role,” he dismisses the question.
“Is that so?” You fall to silence as he continues to wash you, taking his time and guaranteeing that he gets every part. He hesitates when he washes around your injuries— every stroke and movement of his hands is smooth and temperate.
“Let me relax for a minute alone,” you murmur, “You should put your clothes back on, the maids should be here any moment to take my order for lunch. They won’t find it suspicious that I’m bathing, but they will question why you’re with me.”
Minho nods and pulls away from your body.
He stands up and his feet splash on the wet floor. He takes a double take at your closed eyes.
The way your body floats in the bath is something that catches his attention. You look very pleasing in such a vulnerable position.
He leaves the room, cracking the door to make sure that you are safe.
Minho buttons up his wrinkled shirt, pulling the jacket over it and smoothing it out to ensure that nobody suspects anything.
Minho’s eyes turn to the maid who enters the room with the ring of a bell.
His demeanor is unfazed, a hand on the gun in his pocket once more. He holds eye contact, his stare intense.
He would make sure that there wasn’t another incident.
“Where is Miss Y/N?”
“She is bathing at the moment.”
She nods, walking towards the bathroom and knocking on the door.
You hum, allowing her to enter.
“What would you like for lunch, ma’am?”
“I don’t know, surprise me.”
A few seconds go by as you immerse yourself entirely in the water before rising back to the surface.
“Minho,” you call out, “What would you like?”
You hear the faint sigh that Minho gives as a response back to your question.
“I’ll just have a sandwich or something, whatever you have is fine.” He replies to both you and the maid as she exits the bathroom, fulfilling her duty of reporting your lunch choice.
The bedroom door shuts behind her.
“Minho!” You call out once again, “I order you to take me out of the bath.”
A few seconds pass before you hear Minho’s footsteps come near the bathroom once again. He grabs a towel as you stand, body bare and dripping with water.
His eyes have an intense focus as he reaches out his hand.
Minho pulls you up from the bath wraps the towel around you, making sure to cover all of you, and begins to dry off your hair.
“Minho,” you begin, “Daddy can’t know about what happened. He’d shoot you dead on the spot.”
Minho pauses for a moment, his eyes darting across the floor.
He is silent for a moment. “I won’t reveal anything to him.”
“Good boy,” you cling to the towel covering your body, “Go fetch a maid to dress me. While she does so, I want you to change out of that suit and shower before lunch.”
“Then I’ll go shower now. I’ll be back.”
You hum in agreement, stepping towards your bedroom as a maid rings the bell.
You drop your towel, letting her sift through your drawers to find decent clothing.
She eyes a hickey on your breast, along with the other injuries across your body from the kidnapping.
“Your injuries look agitated, Miss Y/N, are you sure that a bath was the best idea for you?”
“Don’t question me,” you grumble, “I took a bath because I wanted to.”
“Yes, miss.” She pulls the dress above your head smoothes it out, and clasps a necklace behind your neck.
“You’re all set for lunch.”
The moment that you come out of your room, you can feel his presence. He is leaning against the front door of the room with an unreadable expression.
He has another suit on, a fresh one. Minho’s previously muskier, dark scent has been replaced by a new, sweeter fragrance.
“First shower at the estate?” You question, “Our soaps are quite lovely and mild on the skin. You smell wonderful.”
Minho’s lips curl at the compliment, looking you up and down, “Seems that we both are putting our best foot forward.”
You look around to see if anyone is watching before leaning to ruffle his damp hair and leave a kiss on his cheek, taking the man by complete surprise. He makes an effort to regain his composure, but you can see that his cheeks are blushed from the touch.
As soon as you lean in to lock arms, you feel him lean over to you to whisper something.
“I would love to do that with you again.”
You froze in your spot, heat rushing to your thighs.
You must regain your composure, caught off guard by his blunt words, something unlike the ordinary nature of Minho.
He takes a seat across from you, watching every move that the maid makes to be sure that she doesn’t try anything— he has learned his lesson.
“Pressed Italian Picnic Sandwiches and tea,” The maid states, setting the plates on the table.
You scrunch my nose up. “What’s in it?”
“Artisanal prosciutto, aged provolone, and sun-dried tomatoes inside of a crusty ciabatta,” She doesn’t hesitate to list the ingredients, “and a fragrant blend of rare loose-leaf teas with fresh cream and sugar cubes.”
She sets the teapot and cups out, along with a carton of cream and a bowl of sugar cubes.
Minho’s hand rests on his gun, waiting for her to leave before taking a sip of tea.
You follow his action, dumping a couple of cubes into your tea and bringing it to your lips.
I finish my lunch with Minho.
“Let’s go back to my room now. I'm exhausted.”
Minho nods his head and you both finish up the meals quickly.
You both leave the dining area and stroll back to your bedroom.
As soon as you get back into the room, you feel Minho close the door behind you.
You don’t hesitate to climb into bed and lie down.
The guard looks over at you, observing the way that your chest rises and falls as you breathe. He notices every movement that your body is making.
“I command you to lay down with me.” You lean back against the bed, your body still and eyes focused on his unmoving body.
He slips off his shoes silently, slipping into the canopy bed.
You grin, curling at his side, pressing against his body.
His breathing is deep and steady as he struggles to get into a more comfortable position.
Your mind began racing with questions about the mysterious man that you were slowly falling for, burying yourself further into the sheets.
“Minho,” you start slowly, “How did you become tangled with our family?”
Minho stays silent for a few moments and you feel his body shift a little against yours.
“I didn’t have a lot of money or family growing up,” he kept his answer short and simply, “the moment that this job came my way, I took it. The people connected to this business have always stayed on the down low, so this is an easy job to keep."
“Daddy seems to like you,” you grit your teeth.
Minho turns to you on the bed and sits up a little. He looks at you from top to bottom, reading the worry on your face with ease.
“You don’t have to worry about me.”
“He will kill you on the spot if he finds out. He’s done that to almost every man who has flirted or slept with me.”
You pause for a moment. “God forbid the one he hired as my bodyguard.”
“I am not so easily killed.” The words leave his mouth with a tinge of arrogance.
“I trust you.”
“Good.”
There is stillness between you both for a time, but he breaks it by grabbing your chin and leaning in to kiss you. You soothe into his touch, smiling against his lips briefly before he pulls away.
“I order you to stay here. Like this.”
It’s not difficult for you to drift off to sleep beside him, and as always, Minho pursues your request, keeping a close eye on you. You relax, your breathing slow, and he notes all of the occasional twitches and movements that you make in your sleep.
A couple of hours later, the door is knocked on by a maid.
“Dinner order?”
Minho jolts awake from the knock on the door, a hand swiftly placed on your shoulder to protect you from any threats before turning his head towards the noise.
His voice is full of sleep. “Repeat that?”
As she opens the door, there is a look of inquiry on her face, one that she won’t ask to ensure her job and health.
“Is she asleep?” She questions instead, glancing over at your peaceful figure.
He turns his head towards you to double-check, observing your napping body.
“Yes.”
“Alright. I’ll advise the chef to prepare her dinner later tonight.”
She gives a sharp nod to the guard and scurries out of the room, quietly shutting the door to not disturb the girl.
Minho’s eyes rest on the door for a moment, fully alert now with a hand resting on his gun.
Eventually, he turns over to you. He has his eyes on you for a few seconds before leaning down to kiss you on the forehead, letting out a small sigh.
You stir at the warm touch, scrunching your face up and stretching your body.
“What time is it?” You ask groggily before burying your head into his neck.
“Dinner is in about half an hour. You hungry?”
“Not really,” you pull yourself up and rub your sleep-filled eyes.
He notices your body shiver as you pull yourself up. Minho lets out a short exhale.
“Did you sleep?”
“A bit.” He doesn’t look away or turn his head as he admires the way you stand and stretch your body, smoothing your dress of its wrinkles.
You walk towards your vanity mirror, plopping down in the chair to readjust your necklace to the center. A few marks on your collarbone catch your eye.
“The nurses will be in shortly.” You grit your teeth. “I hope they don’t notice.”
“They won’t notice.”
His figure can be seen from behind you in the reflection of the mirror. His lips are turned upwards as he watches you fix your appearance.
You pull out a couple of foundations and concealers, working on concealing the marks left from earlier.
“The maids wouldn’t, but the nurses will tell the difference between a hickey and a bruise. Especially since these are fresh.”
Even though you are busy with your makeup and covering up the bruises, Minho’s eyes are never off of you. It is a feeling that you will have to get used to— always having a watchful eye on you.
Once you were satisfied with the coverage, you rose from your seat quickly.
“Get up, we’re going to dinner.”
“So bossy.” He retorts. “What will you have?”
“I want to go out, let’s go somewhere fancy. Daddy will pay.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You want to go out when you have had a beating just two days ago?”
He asks it like he thinks it’s an absurd idea, almost condescendingly, yet his tone of voice is soft and full of concern for you, causing your stomach to flip inside out.
“I’m tired of staying inside already. This estate is suffocating,” you pull on your slip-on shoes.
“That’s how I got myself into this mess in the first place. I left the house and got kidnapped. That won’t happen with you here.”
“I guess you’re right. We’ll go somewhere nice.”
“Good. I’ll go tell Daddy.” You leave the door open for Minho to come after but don’t wait for him, yet you can tell that he follows behind silently, attending to the way your body moves in the dress as you make your way down the halls.
The door is slightly ajar, so when you knock, it pushes open with a creak, revealing your father inside.
Minho stands behind you like a shadow, his lips pressed into a straight line, gaze locked on your father, keeping his distance from the both of you.
“Come inside,” the older man invites both of them with a welcoming grin, “sit.”
You can sense that your father has something on his mind, which is never a good sign.
“I was going to call you to my office shortly, anyway.” Instantly you assume the worst.
You sit down, taking a seat in front of him. Minho is still standing in the back, his priority on you and your father.
The man looks over at Minho. Their eyes lock for a moment. “Guard, go lock the door. There is a conversation that needs to be had.”
Minho nods and he turns his head, locking the door behind him.
He turns his attention back to you, who is frozen in your seat, breath hitching.
The elite man fiddles with a pen at his desk, clicking it to drown out the tense silence.
The silence in the room seems so heavy that you wonder how neither you nor Minho is feeling sick. Judging by the thick atmosphere between the three of you, it is easy to tell that he isn’t pleased right now.
He fidgets with the pen and you wait for him to finally speak.
“Do you find my daughter to be precious, Guard?” He addresses Minho with a stern voice, finally setting the pen down at his wooden desk with a smack.
“Yes sir,” Minho replies flatly.
“Are you willing to protect her at all costs, even at your life?”
After moments of silence, he answers back confidently. “Yes sir. I am.”
A hand comes to rest at his side, toying loudly with a handgun, which he eventually pulls out of his pocket.
Tears begin to well up in your eyes, yet Minho stays concentrated. There isn’t a single sign of fear on his face. He is unshaken, calm, and collected as if he had been foreseeing this exact scenario.
“Do you know why you were assigned to guard my daughter, Minho?”
“I know the reasons.”
“There was a leak to the rivals from a previous staff member that I had a precious daughter in my life,” He turns towards you, “the one that I had climbed to the top of my career to protect and assure her safety and security.”
He cleared his throat before darting back to Minho, “It took less than a day for her to be taken from my hands and placed in the hands of one of my greatest enemies.”
Minho pays attention to every word that he speaks and clears his throat, waiting for your father to continue.
“I care for my daughter more than anything in the world. Which is why I had appointed the most valuable, honest, and competent man in the family to ensure her protection.”
Minho nods.
“Please don’t kill him, Daddy.”
The boss meets you with cold eyes, disregarding your words to proceed with his lecture. “You are my most prized possession. I would hurt anyone or anything to make sure that not a single person touches you. The men who kidnapped you are all taken care of, wiped out by my command.”
He continues. “I know everything that goes on in your life. Every meal, every kiss, every injury, the staff must report every minor thing that occurs in your day. I have eyes on you at all times, and you’re more than aware of that.”
Your shoulders stiffen. He knew.
“Minho,” his stare is burning into the other man, “I’ll get to the point. Did you sleep with my daughter?”
He doesn’t blink. His body tenses up and his voice remains neutral.
“Yes.”
The boss turns the safety off of his firearm and you dig your head into your hands, unable to observe the scene that is about to unfold.
The gunshot is fired, but the man deliberately aims to the left of Minho, grazing his cheek with the bullet before standing up instantly from his seat. The guard doesn’t react with more than a blink as the blood pools at the cut.
“I trust you, Minho. You are a good man. If there is a single person who I would choose to give my daughter to, it would be you.”
Finally, Minho takes this as a sign to let his guard down for a moment as his shoulders drop, lip quivering slightly. It was evident that there was more emotion that the guard was holding back, especially when he took a moment to look away.
“You have my approval.”
Your eyes widen.
“Take care of my daughter. If you break her heart, I’ll feed your own heart to her for supper.”
“Understood.”
“Take her to dinner,” a wad of cash is pulled out from one of the drawers, “buy her flowers and anything else that she asks for.”
“Yes sir.” He responds, “I’ll make sure that she gets the treatment that she deserves.”
You run to embrace your father, to which he places an arm around you, rubbing your back before pulling away.
“Get yourself dressed more sufficiently, I will have a car ready for you soon.”
Minho follows you out of his office, letting out a breath that he had been holding in once the door was closed.
“Did you hear that?” Do you know what this means?” You beam at the man before grabbing at his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.
He lets out a surprised noise, hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing back.
When you break the kiss, he stares back at you with the first big smile that you’ve seen from him displayed on his face.
“Let’s get you ready.”
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liketolovexx · 1 month
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James Potter is easily the biggest of the three. He’s just so muscular and strong, but in a soft way. He’s got a soft layer of fat protecting his muscles, and I imagine he’s very freckled too. Not sure why. He is the epitome of a golden retriever boyfriend. He likes being the big spoon, and has an INCREDIBLE weak spot for getting his hair played with. Like, it’s literally orgasmic to him. He grew up with everything. Love, money, etc, etc, so he’s probably the touchiest (at first), and is all over you from the start. Also, I think he often forgets his strength and squeezes u too hard and you’ve gotta be like “uh.. Jamie..? You’re.. you’re kinda squeezing-“ and he just puts an arm over ur mouth like “shut up, baby. Sorry. Love you.” He’s adorable.
Remus Lupin is just a normal sized boy, and runs hot like a radiator. Honestly. He doesn’t even need all those knitted sweaters and warm coffee because he just is the embodiment of autumn warmth. He’s littered with silver scars from his lycanthropy, so when u see him naked for the first time, he’s so self conscious. He’d have his arms wrapped around himself, shielding his scars from your view, and you’ve got to prize his hands off of himself. “I’m sorry.. i know they’re not.. appealing.. it’s…” and you’re just like “woah, rem, what? You’re fucking beautiful.” You say that, and he’s yours. He’s not used to love like James is, but he’s probably the one to start getting cuddly. I imagine it’s winter and he’s reading in the common room, and ur shivering because by some miracle the fire isn’t on. He looks up from his book, admiring you for a while and then lifts up his sweater. You SHOOT underneath it and basically curl up like a cat against his bare chest. I repeat: HE IS SO FUCKING WARM. You’d probably have an ‘eternal sunshine of the spotless mind’ moment with him at the start of your relationship though. You know when Clementine is saying she always thought she was ugly and Joel starts kissing her and saying “you’re pretty, you’re pretty, you’re pretty…” yeah, you’d be Joel and he’d be Clementine. But once he’s comfortable, he’s a fucking fiend. You’ll never be cold again, trust me.
Sirius Black is skinny and pale. Like a vampire. Endearingly. I imagine he has a nose piercing and an eyebrow piercing, and he’s all tattooed up. Will DEFINITELY get your initial on his abdomen or collarbone in swirly penmanship. Sirius will act like your best friend even when u two are dating. Bless him though, he’s so used to being hurt and abused by those that are meant to protect him that he can’t trust you at first. I think the first time he came to realise you were different is when you asked him what happened after winter break at his parent’s house, because he was being really quiet and flinching a lot which is unlike him. You cornered him in the common room when no one else was there, and asked him “hey, Siri? What’s going on, man? Tell me.” He insisted, “I’m fine. I swear, sweetheart.” You went to tuck his black curls behind his ear but he flinched, which shattered your heart. You said “Sirius, please. I need to know you’re okay, because I need you safe.” And hearing that, he broke down into your arms. From then on, he’s always in your arms. He adores comforting you, because he’s a big brother himself and so he has the instinct, you know? But man, does he fucking adore being in your arms. He WILL curl up beside you wherever you’re sitting or lying, and is always rubbing against you. He always says “I can’t help it, babe, it’s just the dog in me.” Which he seems to find HILARIOUS. Oh yeah, and he literally can’t sleep unless you’re the big spoon or his head is on your chest or in your neck. He likes to feel safe and protected for once, and you do that for him to no end. He’s THE 70s rocker stereotype, and he loves having matching nail polish with you. You’re best friends as well as lovers.
Sorry for yapping to no end guys!!!
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jmstoesblog · 1 month
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Toxic
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Pairing: bf!Jungkook x gf!reader
Summary: You’re fed up with your boyfriend—Jungkook— and want to break up with him.
Warnings: toxic relationship, Jungkook’s an ass, unprotected sex, making out, swearing, dirty talk (?), degradation, reader passes out, not proofread!!
Wc:
Note: it didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to. I might change the ending since i don’t like it.
——————————————————————————
People are dancing, smoking, drinking, talking and having fun…. while you’re sitting at a booth alone.
You roll your eyes at your boyfriend— Jungkook— entertaining some blond girl. He’s shamelessly flirting with her in your presence. You both came here together wanting to let off some steam as it had been a bad day for both of you. Work was really tiring and you just wanted to relax but your boyfriend suggested to go to a club to get your mind off of work. It was a shitty day for him too.
“I’ll get us a drink, yeah? I’ll be back in a minute.”
You snort, shaking your head at his words.
Now look where he is, letting some random girl— that’s not even his type, you might add— touch him. Every time he says something she laughs and either touches his biceps, thighs or shoulder.
People, friends, your parents, they all have been telling you to not get with him. He’s bad. Honestly they were right, he screams fuckboy. From his personality to his slutty body. His broad shoulders, his chest that is getting bigger every day, he might have more man boobies than you. His biceps, his toned abs and tummy down to his thick, muscular thighs.
Not to forget his tatts and piercings. He has an eyebrow piercing, two lip rings and like six earrings on each ear. He always wears jewelry. Chains, bracelets, rings…
His style is very simple. He wears oversized, comfy black clothes. He wears chunky black boots amd lastly rides a Harley.
He has taken you on dates with his motorcycle a lot of times. You’d grips his waist for dear life every time he’d speed up ( which he does intentionally, so you’d hug him tighter)
You have no doubt that he loves you, it’s just the way he acts or the things he says…..
You two have been on and off, mainly because of him and his foul mouth.
You remember him calling you a bitch in an argument a while ago. The first red flag of many.
He hurt you with his words a lot.
“You’re a good for nothing little whore!”
“Y/n! Stop being such a bitch!”
“Is that all you can do!? Crying is the only thing you can do?”
“Shut the fuck up! Your voice is so annoying!”
You know he loves you but his actions hurt you.
His love for you is toxic.
——————————
“Where are you going?”
“Why do you care? Go back to that girl. I bet she’s missing you already.”
“Baby, don’t leave. We were having so much fun!”
You halt on your steps and turn around, facing him, “No Jungkook. You were having fun.”
“You were entertaining her while I, your girlfriend, was waiting for you at that fucking booth! So tell me Jungkook, how were we having fun!? Huh?”
“Don’t be like that, y/n.” He tries grabbing your hand but you quickly pull away, “It was harmless flirting.” He states with a blank face.
Your jaw drops to the ground. You’re about to say something but decide not to.
“Don’t leave, baby! Where are you going!?” Jungkook yells after you as you walk away, “I’m done with you Jungkook! Leave me alone!” You yell at him, not stopping walking.
You pick up your pace after hearing his footsteps behind you. You start running and he eventually catches you, throwing you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing.
He makes sure to pull your dress down and rest his hand there. So nobody can even get a glance.
“What the hell!? Put me dow—“
He abruptly slammed you against a wall, you groan in pain, “shut the fuck up! Just shut up!” He lowly whispers. You’re completely still after that. You do not want to provoke him. You know how he is when he is angry.
He’s already very mad. He glares at you for a few seconds, “you’re just making it harder for yourself.” He says, his hand traveling from your waist to your throat, the other one, firmly wrapped around your waist.
“So just keep quiet,” he tilts his head, “yeah?”
His hand squeezes your throat when you don’t immediately answer, he squints his eyes at you, daring you to not answer. You nod, breathing heavily. He pokes his tongue in his inner cheek and briefly looks away and back at you, “use your fuckin’ words! Or are you unable to form a simple sentence!?” His grip tightens.
You claw at his hands, trying to pry his hand off you, “s- sto-op I c…ant breath…” he gives you another squeeze and finally takes his hand off you. He grabs your wrist and drags you with him, towards his car.
You try catching your breath again as your panting hard.
He did it again.
He chocked you again.
A few months ago, during an argument, he chocked you, for the first time. You gave him the silent treatment until he dropped down on his knees and begged you for forgiveness while crying.
Your poor heart cant see him crying, so you forgave him instead of leaving him.
But he’s not always been like this.
You love him too much to leave him.
————
You flinch when he slams the car door shut, he angrily walks over to your side and opens the door, “out.” Once you get out, he slams it shut and drags you to the door.
Oh no, no, no…
Even if you love him, it’s not good for the both of you, so you want to end it here. You should have ended the relationship a long time ago.
You grab his arm with your free hand, “stop Jungkook!”
You regret everything, as he only stands there, back facing you, not uttering a word.
What feels like an entirety comes to an end as he slowly turns around and raises his pierced brow.
“Please stop….” You meekly beg.
Jungkook just stares at you, he sighs annoyed after a few seconds, “Get. in. the. house.” He puts pressure on every word.
He leaves you standing there as he gets inside, “okay y/n, you can do this. Just tell him the truth without peeing yourself.”
“Let’s end this, forever…..”
You mumble and walk into the house.
As you step foot into the house, you notice it’s quiet, very quiet. You gulp, your heart racing with fear. What will he say? What will he do? Will he accept you wanting to break up with him?
Where will you go?
You live with him in his apartment. Only after a few months of dating he asked you to move in with him. Who were you to deny him? You were so madly in love with him, not noticing the red flags.
It’s not like you don’t have money. You work, but do not get paid as much as Jungkook does. But you do have some money stashed away. You cannot buy a house or an apartment with it, but stay at a hotel meanwhile. Or at your friends.
You could stay at your parents, but you don’t want to worry them, knowing how much they love Jungkook.
“What the hell y/n?” Jungkook breaks you out of your thoughts, “what was that stunt you pulled back there?”
Fighting with Jungkook was…… something.
It either led to angry sex, ignoring each other or breaking up.
It was mostly him who apologized after arguments. He’d give you nice flowers and take you out.
And you’d blindly forgive him. Every. Time.
You were— are— madly in love with him.
You furrow your brows in anger, “What? The fuck, Jeon? Are you even listening to yourself? I’m your girlfriend yet you were flirting with someone else in my presence!”
“Are you ever going to grow out of your fuckboy phase!? The fact that I lasted so long with you surprises me! You flirt— you entertain other woman while you have a girlfriend! Do you know how it makes me feel?”
You keep yelling at him, “It wouldn’t surprise me if you have already cheated on me!”
(Don’t worry y’all, he hasn’t.)
Jungkook licks his lips and bites them right after. It’s been several minutes and you’ve been yelling at him.
It’s turning him on. You yelling at him like that. After just a few minutes he got a boner. The way your brows furrow, you calling him every insult there is.
It makes him fucking hard.
“Will you say something now!?” You yell at him after your rant. You noticed he’s been quiet and hasn’t said a word to you.
Which is not Jungkook at all. He always talks back. Always.
“You done?” He calmly asks in his deep voice, you catch a tint of amusement in his tone.
You scoff, “Have you even been listening to me!?”
He smiles.
A smile that is clearly mocking you.
The audacity he has! Well you’re about to wipe that smile away.
“I want to break up!”
It happens so fast.
He was suddenly pinning you to the wall with his hand around your throat, he wasn’t holding you tight. His other hand was in your hair.
“And why is that?” He chuckles darkly, “saw me with some female and now you want to break up?” He starts laughing.
“Yes,” you hiss once he stops laughing, “you’re disrespectful, demanding and a freak.”
“Oh? I’m the problem now?” He comes closer, “you’re the one that’s insecure.” He has a lazy grin on his face.
He is not taking this seriously. Is this a joke to him?
“God, Jungkook! You’re not even taking this seriously! You’re so—“
He kisses you.
Jungkook kisses the life out of you. And you don’t resist, you kiss him back with the same force. Jungkook’s hand travels from your hair to your waist, squeezing it a few times during the make out. His other hand remains on your throat.
You wrap your legs around his waist and he rests his hand on your ass while still making out. Kissing sounds are the only thing hear throughout the whole house.
He takes you to the couch and lays you down, your legs still circling his waist, but now hanging loosely around ‘em.
“You think I’d cheat on you?” He mumbles while kissing up your leg, “I’d never.” He presses a chaste kisses to your clothes center.
“No, I didn’t mean that— mhm.” He yanks your panties and throws them somewhere on the floor. He dives right in between your legs and your lips part before letting out a gasp.
You grip the couch so hard your knuckles start to turn white, Jungkook takes notice of that and places your hands in his hair.
Jungkook runs his tongue up and down your slit, you pull on his hair and he lets out a grunt, “fuck you, Jungkook, seriously.” You manage to say, his tongue is just so good, “yeah? I’m about to.” He answers and gives your pussy a smack.
“Ouch,” you wince in pain.
He smirks, “you know i love you, right?”
“Yeah, I know.” You roll your eyes, “I love you too.” You mumble, not looking at him.
You hear him let out a chuckle before toring apart the rest of the clothes, you gasp and hit his shoulder, “Jungkook!”
“What? You don’t need them now.” He answers so easily with a lazy smirk on his face.
You purse your lips and look away, Jungkook starts rubbing your pussy while leaving hickeys on your collarbone and neck. Your hands pull at his hair and he groans in your neck.
Jungkook has a hair pulling kink. He likes having his hair pulled during sex.
You start bucking against his hand and he bites your neck gently, “You’re so desperate, huh?” He says, amusement evident in his tone.
You unzip his pants and slide them down along with his boxers. His length springs free, slapping against his stomach. His dick is standing proudly with cum leaking out of his head, the head is slightly red.
You bite your lip upon seeing his big, veiny shaft, Jungkook smirks in response, his ego rising. He takes his dick in his hand and starts pumping himself, his eyes closed.
Jungkook moans in pure bliss. He opens his eyes and looks at you while jerking himself off, “come here.” He breathes out.
You move closer, laying completely under him. He pokes your pussy with his dick, “put it in now!” You’re getting impatient.
Jungkook raises his pierced brow, “shut up.” He growls and pushes himself in you, in one go. You both moan in pleasure, “you’re so tight. Didn’t know I didn’t fuck you for so long.” He is strechting you out so good.
You wrap your legs around his waist again, squeezing him a few times with your legs, but he doesn’t mind. Your arms are hanging loosely around his neck.
“Feels good, baby?” He asks, thrusting into you.
“Y..yes…”
He scoffs, “so good, huh? You can barely talk.” He laughs, “am I making you feel that good?” He pulls you up by your shoulders, “tell me how good I make you feel. Go on.”
You’re blinded by all the pleasure, “so g-good!” You gasp out, “yeah? You’re making me feel good too.” He doesn’t stop pounding into you.
You moan at his words, your praise kink being fed.
“You feel so good, baby. Your pussy is wrapping itself around my cock so good.” He moans, praising you more.
He leans down, pressing more kisses to your lips.
“Kook too much!” You cry.
“Too much?” He scoffs, “that’s what you get, you wanted to leave me.” He cups your face, “you can’t leave me. You’re mine.” He pecks your lips.
“My baby.” He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck. He keeps thrusting into you, his pace getting faster by the seconds.
His thrusts get sloppy after sometime and he cums in you.
He looks at you, “Gotta make sure you never leave me.” He mumbles while cleaning himself up. After throwing the dirty tissues in the bin he wears his pants and cleans you up.
Well…. Since you couldn’t, because you’re passed out.
Jungkook admires you for a few minutes before cleaning you up. You’re naked laying on his couch with his cum leaking out of you.
“Love you.” He mumbles pressing a kiss to your forehead.
————
Do NOT copy or translate.
Thank you for reading 💕
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meowsforyujin · 2 months
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tattoo artist- Leeknow
(Warnings: smut! Leeknow x reader, slight age gap, oral, unprotected sex but reader is on the pill, tattoo gun, hair pulling, mentions of pain, semi public sex, good old fashion doggy style 😛😛)
Summary: leeknow is your tattoo artist that you’ve been crushing on for a while, but he’s never made a move. So obviously, you decide to get a tattoo in a slightly scandalous spot and inevitably things get steamy
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You sit on the chair eagerly, holding the piece of paper in your hand. It’s been 15 minutes since you came, where is he?
“Are you nervous?” you swear you feel your whole demeanor change when you hear his voice.
You scoff, “Have I ever been nervous?”
“You were the first time.” Minho smirks playfully.
You don’t remember the first time as vividly as he does. He remembers it as if it was yesterday.
He remembers his world stopping when you walked in. You were so captivating to him. You wore a leather skirt with fishnets, and a cropped tank top that complimented your belly button piercing. Your hair was black and blonde at the time, roots grown out but still pretty. Your eyes were starry and nervous, showing the design you wanted on your left arm for the first tattoo you’d ever gotten. You were shy at first, but then opened up pretty quickly, talking his ear off. Explaining how long you had wanted a tattoo, and it was hard to narrow down the choices for your first one. He knew you’d be back after proclaiming your love and interest in tattoos, but he didn’t expect so soon. You’d come back a week later for another. It was then when you told him you were excited to start college the following week. All his possible plans on asking you out vanished with that, given that you were 18 and he was 22 at the time.
Well it’s three years later, and who knows how many times you’ve been here. Minho expected to have a fun time like usual, chatting away with you, also expecting the familiar disappointment that would follow when you left. What he DIDN’T expect was you wanting a tattoo on your chest that required your shirt to be off.
“Um, well you’d need to take your shirt off..do you want me to get a girl to do this instead?” He hoped you didn’t see how red his ears were.
“No, why would I? I trust you the most, and it’s not like I’m getting naked or anything”
Yet.
He hesitantly nods, instructing you shyly to remove your shirt. This usually wouldn’t be a problem, since Minho finds himself mature. But his attraction towards you is what stands out among the rest of the customers. And he feels guilty for it, given the age gap. You’re 21 and he’s 25, which doesn’t seem that big of a deal to most but the fact that he’s known you since you were technically a teenager amplifies his guilt.
Despite his worries, and your black lace bra, things weren’t very awkward. You both talked as usual, enjoying the time you had since it had been a while. I mean, it's been three years and they're only so many tattoos you want, so inevitably your visits have slowed down over the years. At some point in your rambling, you ask, “Have you ever had a psychotic ex girlfriend?”
He simply shakes his head. “Oh really? Not even like a jealous one?”
“I’ve never had a girlfriend.” He states as if it’s the most normal thing for a gorgeous 25 year old man to have never had a girlfriend.
“YOU WHAT?” you could not contain your shock.
He chuckles softly, “Why so surprised?” He’s still focused on his task at hand.
“Well for starters, you’re gorgeous, and also you’re kind and funny, what else would anyone want?” His laugh was breathier than he wanted it to be, and you definitely catch the pink hue dusting his cheeks.
“Maybe, but I’m also a tattoo artist who didn’t graduate college.”
“I think the tattoo artist thing is dreamy.” You pause, “And hot.”
His breath audibly hitches. “I, thank you.”
Truth is you’ve been pining after Minho for forever. You flirt with him constantly, and it obviously has an effect on him, so you assumed he had a girlfriend since he never made a move. But even so, you always secretly hoped he was single. And maybe you let your delusions get the best of you, because you scheduled the latest appointment possible, and picked your most flattering bra for him to see. Your plaid skirt was short too, knee high socks complimenting your thighs.
“Any plans or ideas for the next tattoo?” Minho asks, desperate to change the subject.
“I dunno, I’m kinda running out of ideas.”
“Damn, I’d miss my favorite customer.”
“Well, maybe we should go for coffee sometime?” He pauses his movements, obviously flustered, but also deep in thought of what his response should be.
“You know I can’t, but I’m flattered regardless.” Minho failed to hide his disappointment in his voice.
“Why, can’t date customers or what?”
He laughs a bit, “No, have you seen this place? We don’t really have rules.”
You laugh with him, “Okay so why? Am I not pretty or?”
That wasn’t very funny to him. “No, you’re breathtaking.” He knows he shouldn’t have said that, yet he doesn’t feel a single trace of regret. “It’s just, the age gap.” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Aren’t you 25?”
“Yeah.”
You couldn’t help giggling at him. “Oh please Minho, I’ve been on dates with way older than you.” His eyes dart up at you. “What? How much older?”
You shrug, “Doesn’t matter, go out with me?”
He turns off the tattoo gun and sets it next to him, deep in thought.
You suddenly wrap your legs around him to bring him closer, “Please?”, you watch his eyes flutter shut as you comb his hair with your fingers. You didn’t dare make another move. You needed him to take the next step. He caught on to this quickly, given the fact that you’ve had your fingers and legs wrapped around him for what felt like forever, and have made no further effort to act on the obvious tension between the two of you. Despite your persuasion, he still felt guilty. But his judgment was clouded by your hot breath fanning his cheeks.
You nearly zone out taking in his features, but quickly brought back by Minho closing the gap between the two of you.
His lips were so soft. He kissed just like he did his tattoos, calm and precise, concentrated on doing everything the best way possible. He bites your bottom lip softly, granting himself access to push his tongue in your mouth. He tastes so sweet it was insane.
You whine softly, tugging at his shirt. Minho pulls away from you for a second, pulling off his shirt, then quickly attaching his lips once more. His lips trail down your jaw towards your neck as you whimper. You hiss when his chest accidentally comes in contact with your new (unfinished) tattoo.
He pulls away worried, “Sorry, did I hurt you?”’
You shyly shake your head, “I liked it.” He raises his eyebrows at you, “I liked the pain, feels nice.” He stares at you, his concerned expression morphing into a devilish smirk.
“Oh really?” He touches you again, groping your breast slightly, barely pressing against the tattoo but still enough to cause a pleasurable thrill.
Minho kisses you again but with much more force this time, biting your lip rather harshly, earning a deep moan from you. His hand slowly inches up your thighs teasingly, searching for the hem of your underwear. He pulls away abruptly to look at you, and then pulls your skirt up. He scoffs when he finds that you indeed were not wearing anything under your skirt.
“You’re crazy.” He laughs, shaking his head, not really trying to hide that his face was bright ass red.
“I’m crazy for you.” you pull him closer, missing his lips on yours. He shakes his head in disapproval, “Cringe.”, you look at him in disbelief, about to protest but immediately distracted by his hand reaching down to cup your heat. You feel yourself beginning to fall apart for him right then and there.
“You're so wet.” He flashes you a toothy grin while running his fingers up and down your folds. You don’t respond, too focused on the fact that his hands were finally touching you, and this wasn’t a dream.
You’d often daydream about his hands alone. You loved staring at his hands while he held that tattoo gun, veiny and big, and precise in every movement. You’d think about all the ways his hands could move precisely, and not with the tattoo gun.
Your thoughts are cut short when Minho's head is in between your legs. “Fuck.”, you whisper, the way his dough eyes are looking up at you, half for consent and half for amusement was enough to make you finish right there. Nonetheless, you power through.
Minho licks a long, slow stripe up your folds. When he meets your clit, he circles his tongue slowly over it, before going back down to tease your entrance.
The way he eats you out is heaven. He uses a kissing motion around your clit, rather than just applying pressure or sucking on it (he does that too). You whine, pushing his face impossibly closer to you, tugging at his hair begging him to keep going. Your legs shake as you feel your high approaching, Minho gets the message and speeds up his actions. Out of nowhere he pushes in a finger, pumping it in and out of you quickly. This tips you over the edge and before you know it your thighs are shaking violently, closing around his head as you cum with a silent cry, back arched in the air.
Minho cleans you up with his tongue, ignoring your whines from overstimulation. Eventually he stops and looks up at you, and fuck if it isn’t the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen. His lips parted, pupils blown out, and you don’t miss your juices dripping down his chin. His lustful gaze is working you up all over again.
You pull him into another heating kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. You hand trails down to his hard on, palming him softly. He groans deeply into the kiss, playing with the clasp of your bra until it falls off your shoulders. Minho pulls from this kiss to peel the rest of your bra off, letting out a shaken exhale staring at your bare chest. It’s not long before he has his lips wrapped around your nipple and his hand around your other breast. You enjoy this for a moment, before playing with his belt until you manage to get it off.
You stand up, taking Minho by surprise. He almost thought you were leaving until you get on your knees. His breath is shaky and he watches you pulling out his member. You practically drool at the sight of it. It wasn't too long, but longer than most. And what he didn’t have in length was made up for by how fucking thick it was. You wrap your hand around it, pumping steadily.
Soon enough, you take him all in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. Luckily he did not notice your impatience, too immersed in the feeling of your mouth around him. You bob your head up and down on him, alternating between swirling your tongue around his tip and sucking it. He eventually begins thrusting his hips, meeting your bobbing motions until you feel him twitch in your mouth and he pulls you off him. You can’t help but pout up at him and he just chuckles, pulling you off the ground. He kisses you briefly before bending you over the tattoo chair.
You whimper as he teases your folds, dragging his cock up and down them. You feel his tip teasing your entrance, your cunt leaking in anticipation.
“Wait,” he breaths, “Do you have a condom?”
“No? Why would I have a condom? You're the guy here.”
“Yeah well you’re the one who expected this to happen!”
“I did not!”
“You literally didn’t wear any underwear.”
“I’m on the pill.”
You hear him sigh, “Are you sure?”
“Minho just fuck me already before I ride you instead.”
Despite your affirmation, he was still hesitant. Pushing in as slowly as possible, your warm cunt enveloping him earns a somewhat high pitched moan from him.
You want to tease him, you really do, but you’re already a fucking mess and he hasn’t moved. The stretch is absolutely delicious, and he’s reaching every spot perfectly.
He begins moving steady, hands gripping your hips. You’re loud and he loves it. Your moans encouraging him to move faster, he builds up his pace. “Fuck fuck fuck! Like that please!” You babble, already feeling your consciousness slip away.
“Mmm you like it rough right? You like it when I fuck you dumb?.” you can only nod, incredibly turned on by his words.
Knock knock.
You both pause, and you feel reality coming back to you when you hear a voice from the other side of the door.
“Hey Minho, sorry to interrupt.”
Fuck. It had completely slipped your mind that yeah maybe there weren't really any other customers there but there were obviously workers. And you recognized her voice, it was Yuri, the one who always answered your calls and scheduled your appointments. God this was embarrassing.
“I’m leaving for the day, so if you could lock up when you’re uh, done, that’d be great.”
You could not be more mortified in this moment.
“Okay sounds good, thanks Yuri.” Minho yells from the other side.
You both wait until you hear the bell from the front door, indicating she had left.
“Oh my god that’s so embarrassing.” You whine, burying your face further in the chair. Minho laughs in disbelief, “You wore no underwear and THAT'S embarrassing?”
all you do is whine and mumble a ‘shut up’ before he’s fucking you again without warning, this time pulling your hair. You yelp at the sting, eyes rolling back to your head.
“Thought you wanted an audience baby? Thought you wanted everyone to know I was fucking you so well?” You can’t respond, you're too close to your climax already. Minho takes note of this and picks up the pace, thrashing into you without mercy.
“Oh my god I’m so close please!” You cry, tears of pleasure spilling down your cheeks. Minho just grunts, snaking his fingers down under you to rub your clit.
You see white as you cum for the second time tonight, walls clamping down on Minho, causing him to cum shortly after you.
You both lay there for a while, catching each other's breath. You jolt up when you hear him walking away, fearing that he was going to leave, only to find him returning with a warm towel to clean you up. You’re silent as he cleans you up, just watching him with adoration.
“So,” he clears his throat, “Should we go somewhere now?”
You smile, “My place?”
He chuckles, “I was thinking dinner?”
-AHH I had sm fun writing this!! Expect a sequel bc omg I cannot stop thinking ab tattoo artist bf lee know? Like? Anywaysss pls lmk your thoughts! I’m not great at writing but I love to do it, so I’d rlly like tips on how I can improve!!
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
Note
can you pleaseee make a sequel to the "jjk men hurting y/n" (gojo part) where their son wonders if they can marry y/n when they grow up. you know what i mean.
(also oh my goddddd that fic had me rolling in bed giggling and kicking my legs 😭😭😭😭)
Nothing better than that, thank you so much for your request and liking my work<3
Part l can be found here under Gojo's part
Gojo's and (y/n)'s son wanting to marry (y/n)
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Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,2k
Warnings: fluffness overload
Tags: @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @defnotriri @smarsd @sharycatx3 @kaiserkisser @sanicsmut
As usual, feel free to leave a comment or reblog <3
What happened on that fateful day of the night parade was hard to swallow for both you and Satoru. That unimaginable grief of the breakup when all he wanted to do was to save you. Suguru who wanted to not only kill you but Yuta for your abilities and died himself.
It was all too much to handle, a test for both of you.
“Why didn’t you just tell me? I told you I’m pregnant, that I’m expecting your child and you-….You looked at me with nothing but hatred in your eyes…”
“I’m so sorry, (y/n). Believe me, it killed me from the inside to be so cold to you when in reality, I wanted nothing more than holding you in my arms and tell everyone. But there was no other way. If I’d told you about Suguru’s plan, you would have insisted on coming to Tokyo. And if I didn’t and you’d find out yourself, you would have been absolutely mad and would have been there anyway. Please, all I wanted was to keep you safe. I had no other choice…”
For the first time in your relationship, you saw Satoru Gojo cry in front of you, his hands wrapped around your face. Oh, if you only knew how hard it was for him, how it broke his very own heart within these three cursed weeks.
But now you’re here, safe and sound.
“What happened to Suguru?”
Your innocent question pierced his heart like a knife. Satoru wanted to break down in front of you, too overwhelmed by everything that happened over the last weeks.
But he had to be strong. For you and his unborn baby.
“He didn’t make it.”
Your heart dropped, arms instinctively wrapped around your boyfriend’s trembling frame. Oh, your Satoru. All the things he had to endure over this time. Despite you had every reason to be mad at him you simply can’t. He did this for you, after all. And who knows at what cost.
“We’ll get through this together, okay? You, me and our baby.”
And after months of grieving and talking everything out, you did eventually. You did live through it all: the difficult pregnancy, you almost dying during birth, Satoru getting sealed at Shibuya, the loss of many good friends. It was never easy, you thought about giving up all too often.
But now you’re sitting at the kitchen table with your three year old beautiful son who owns the eyes of his gorgeous father and your hair color.
“Good morning my lovelies”, Satoru purrs against your ear before gently placing a kiss on your cheek.
“Stop that!” your son suddenly shouts, gazing at your husband and his very own father visibly upset.
Huh, what has gotten into him today? Normally he doesn’t mind much when Satoru shows you affection. You tilt your head to the side, Satoru nods towards you.
“What, are you jealous, young man?” Satoru asks challengingly, sitting down next to his son who crawls into his lap immediately.
“You can’t just kiss mama like that because I wanna marry her!” the little boy in front of you announces, determination sparkling in his blue orbs.
Satoru and you stare at each other bamboozled and before you can help yourself, a little giggle escapes your lips. Is this why he was acting so weird? Where does this thought come from?
“You wanna marry her?” Satoru repeats.
“I learned that you kiss at a wedding. So you can’t kiss mommy!”
“Oh, I understand. And how did you get the idea of marrying her?” Satoru continues the conversation.
Your heart feels like exploding in warmth, pure joy speeding through your veins. Seeing your sweet little angel sitting on his father’s lap while announcing that he’ll marry you makes tears sting in your eyes. After all the things you’ve been through, the fights, the injuries, the worries, is this really your life right now? Sitting at the breakfast table while having a delightful conversation with your family?
“I love my mama because she makes me brave.”
Satoru’s eyes dart towards you, so touched by the words of your little one that you can immediately see the glossy shine in them. It’s still like a dream to him, sitting here in peace with both of you by his side. This was definitely worth all the fights and losses he had to endure over the last years. This precious little moment of innocence and pure love.
“Y’know little man, just because you love someone you can’t automatically marry that person. That here is your ma, which means you can’t marry her. If someone gets to marry her that would be me”, Satoru clarifies with his oh so sweet voice.
You desperately try to hold back tears. The love you hold for your little family is more than you could ever explain, deeper than any ocean on this planet. Your son might not be aware of it know, but the fact that he’s sitting here so unbothered was never granted, that all of this will work out was never given.
But now it is. Now you’re sitting there all together. And your son just announced that he wants to marry you.
“But why can you marry her and I not?” he requests, lips forming that little pout that reminds you so much of his father.
“Because you already have her as your wonderful mama. Leave some for the rest”, Satoru replies.
Your son shrieks in his father’s loving arms as he begins to tickle him, laughter filling the room. If anyone would have told you 5 years ago that this will be your life, you would have laughed at him. You really thought this world has no joy for you left, that you and Satoru are cursed through being jujutsu sorcerers.
But that child in front of your very own eyes isn’t a curse. No, it is a true blessing just like Satoru himself. You can’t help but admire him for his strength, for his never ending optimism in this world that tried to tear him down multiple times. Always running back into your open arms, always looking out for you and your family. How do you even deserve him, the man in front of you who looks at your child lovingly?
“But why did you not marry her then?”
You tilt your head to the side, amused by the question of your little one.
“That’s a really good question, angel”, you comment sweetly.
Of course you know all too well that the last few years didn’t have any room for a wedding. Between so many deaths, getting sealed and constant fighting, there wasn’t enough time to arrange something like that. But still, you love to tease your boyfriend a little bit.
“I definitely will someday”, Satoru ensures, gaze set on you with a breathtaking smile.
“And I’ll be there too!” your son cries out in excitement.
“Of course you will, Suguru! Ain’t no wedding without my favorite man by my side!”
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miraculousmultifan · 8 months
Text
The months following Steve's fight with Billy and the excursion through the Mind Flayer’s tunnels found Steve at a bit of a loss. The animosity between him and Hargrove had only grown exponentially, but it didn’t bother him as much as it used to. Sure, Hargrove sucked ass, and he had definitely taken over as the newest reigning douchebag, but that kind of stuff just didn’t matter to Steve anymore.
So at school, he found himself sitting with Nancy and Jonathan during lunch. It was a bit awkward considering Nancy and Jon were dating, but he didn’t exactly have any other friends, and he really didn't want to sit alone.
It was early February, and Steve was picking at his cafeteria food, barely listening to the conversation Nancy and Jonathan were having. He was lost in his own thoughts, staring into space blankly.
Across the cafeteria, Eddie Munson was jumping onto a table and taunting several different cliques as he went on a long monologue about society and social norms that most students tended to tune out. Steve watched him with a small smile, pushing his food around his tray. Then, Eddie was throwing barbs at Hargrove, Tommy H, and Carol. Steve winced slightly, knowing the words probably applied to him too, but he couldn't help feeling that Eddie wasn’t exactly saying anything untrue about them.
Before he could tear his attention away, Eddie was turning to face him. Steve's eyes widened. He hadn't even said anything! He’d been laying low ever since their last run-in with the Upside Down, just trying to graduate. So why was Eddie putting his attention on him now?
Eddie jumped down from the table and sauntered over to where Steve was sitting, throwing a leg over the bench to straddle the spot next to him. “Harrington.”
Now that Eddie was so close, Steve could see a slight red tint to his eyes, and he relaxed a little. He was just high.
“Hey, Munson,” Steve replied, giving him a weak smile in response.
Most of the attention on Eddie had dispersed, but Steve could still feel the piercing gaze of Hargrove on the side of his face. That jackass just would not leave him alone, even if he was trying to avoid altercations for Max's sake.
Eddie leaned an elbow on the table to hold his head up with his hand. “How's the fall from grace treating you, my liege?”
Steve blinked. “Huh?”
Jonathan leaned over from where he was chatting with Nancy. “He’s calling you a king. Asking about how you're doing after everyone dropped you for Billy.”
Rolling his eyes, Eddie smirked. “With more dramatic flair than that, but yeah, essentially.”
“Oh.” Steve floundered, looking between Nancy and Jon as he tried to think of an answer. “Well, it’s been nice not having as much attention, I guess. Nothing all that interesting has happened to me.”
Nancy hid a snort behind her hand, turning to bury her face into Jonathan’s shoulder. Eddie raised a curious eyebrow but didn’t comment on her reaction.
“Surely the life of a king has to have some frivolities. Raging parties, swooning ladies, the like…”
Steve scrunched his nose. “Nah, man. My parents cut off my allowance after my last concussion, so I don’t exactly have the funds for that kind of thing anymore.” He didn’t know why he was confiding that kind of information in Eddie, but it wasn’t like he cared that much about what people thought of him anymore. Eddie could spread it around if he really wanted to. “I just babysit Nancy and Jon’s little brothers and their friends. I promise it’s nothing interesting.”
Smirking, Eddie tilted his head to the side. “I'm sure you could make anything interesting, Harrington. Especially looking like that.”
Steve blushed bright red from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck. Oh god. Was Eddie flirting with him? “Oh. Um, thank you! I'm sure you're pretty interesting too.”
That seemed to snap Eddie out of whatever weird flirty persona he had let settle over him. “Right. Good talk. I'm gonna go now. Have a good lunch, Steve.”
And then Eddie was gone, back to his table as he ranted at his friends with increasingly frantic gestures. Steve stared after him for a bit, biting his lip and trying to make sense of the feelings stirring in his chest. On the other side of the table, Nancy let out a pointed cough with a smug smirk.
“So…” She started. “Wanna tell us what that was all about?”
Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “You witnessed the exact same thing that I did, Nance. I don't have any insider information.”
Nancy giggled. “No, not that. I’m talking about how you blushed like a little schoolgirl when Eddie called you interesting. You wanna tell us about it?”
Shooting another look at Eddie’s table, Steve started to reply before he noticed that some of Eddie’s friends were looking at him. His eyes widened and he whipped back around. “I have no clue what you're talking about. Jon, back me up here.”
“Sorry, dude.” Jonathan winced with a sheepish shrug. “You were pretty red. I mean he did call you hot, so I guess I get it…”
Steve sighed and let his head drop to the table. “I really don’t appreciate the psychoanalysis, Nance. He came over here, talked to us, called the way I look interesting, and left. Sure, I may have gotten a little red, but he was leaning really close.”
Smirking, Nancy leaned over the table to flick the back of Steve’s head. “You’re wrong about one thing. He didn’t come over to talk to us. He only talked to you. I think he finds you more than just interesting.”
Standing up from the table abruptly, Steve shook his head. “We’re not talking about this. It’s not like it matters that much anyway. He was probably just trying to mess with me. I’ll see you guys later.” Steve grabbed his tray and walked off, trying and failing to stop himself from sneaking a glance at Eddie’s table.
Much to Steve’s surprise, Eddie was looking right back at him. When their eyes met, he smirked and waggled his fingers at Steve in a wave. Steve blushed, his eyes wide, and he stumbled, almost bumping into another student in the process.
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crushmeeren · 6 months
Text
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🍓Kirishima SFW & NSFW Headcannons
Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+; continue scrolling or block if you aren’t into it
Warnings; daddy kink, praise kink, rough sex, hair pulling, mentions of choking, throat fucking, pussy eating, vaginal sex, Kirishima spits into readers mouth and you swallow that shit happily, cream pie, sweet aftercare, sleepy sex
Note; I’m in love with Kirishima, I’ve been writing a lot of headcannons lately but I simply could not resist the urge to write about the overgrown puppy that is Kirishima. Enjoy this meal with me 🍓
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Eijirou who is the actual human embodiment of a ray of sunshine (he is the definition of golden retriever energy—you know if he had a tail it would wag non stop, definitely smacking the shit out of you)
Eijirou who you met for the first at the gym—you were uncomfortable & unsure of what you were doing when this mountain of a man with bright ass red hair came up to you so shy and explained how to back squat without hurting yourself (this fucker had the sweetest smile, despite his sharp teeth—but Jesus Mother Mary & Joseph—you thought you would fall to your knees just looking at him)
Eijirou who stuttered and turned pink every time you asked him to be your spotter whenever you saw him at the gym, until finally he asked for your number (you were gonna ask for his if he didn’t do it first—you definitely did not fist pump afterwards)
Eijirou who is a heart stopping amount of stacked, but is the biggest softie you have ever met, who gets overly excited to play with your dog-wrestling with him and cuddling him (you swear your dog now loves Eiji more than you, ever since you moved in together they’re two peas in a pod- much to your chagrin)
Eijirou who is really smart — okay maybe not top dog when it comes to book smart but he is street smart and exceptional at reading people, who always knows how you’re feeling even when you don’t say anything (it’s always a relief that he can tell when you don’t feel like talking)
Eijirou who is oblivious to how he looks, who has a shit ton of of instagram followers—not because he tries, no it’s because he started posting pictures of himself at the gym just for fun and unbeknownst to him everything he posts is like a goddamn thirst trap (he only realizes after you point it out because you’re starting to get jealous of all the comments but he always says he only has eyes for you)
Eijirou who almost never says no to you, who always goes with the flow, an easy smile lighting up his face, who lets you pick out the movie for date night more often than not (you make sure to pick something he likes anyways)
Eijirou who really likes cherry twizzlers, who has literal hearts in his eyes whenever you buy him a pack every Friday (he coos adorably at you when you hand him the bag saying you’re so sweet to me pretty girl, I love you so much! How did I get so lucky??), who shares them with you anyways
Eijirou who loves to wear athletic clothes—but also likes to dress punk?? (he’s very diverse), who has his ears pierced (two on each lobe), who looks otherworldly when he wears nicer outfits (you definitely make the joke about his clothes looking better on your floor)
Eijirou who is best friends with Katsuki, (you’ve shockingly been able to become close to him as well), who often plays video games online with his friends (Katsuki, Denki, Sero, also Izuku & Shouto), who likes it when you sit on the floor between his legs while he plays
Eijirou who purrs like a cat when you scratch his scalp whenever his hair is down, who lays his head in your lap while you watch TV so you can continue to play with his hair, who falls asleep halfway through the movie because he feels too relaxed
Eijirou whose presence is calming and friendly, who makes you feel safe, who everyone likes (you’ve never heard a bad word said about him—you’d curb stomp anyone who did)
Eijirou who has made you feel more loved then anyone else you’ve ever been with before, who fills your chest with a warmth so intense your eyes often sting with tears—who brings you your favorite food or drink out of blue, who makes you laugh so hard your stomach cramps (he’s the funniest motherfucker you know)
Eijirou who has become your other half, like a limb you didn’t realize was missing all this time, who becomes your husband, who becomes the father of your children, who you share a love with that only comes once every five life times (you know you’ll never love anyone else no matter what comes your way)
🍓NSFW Headcannons Below🍓
Eijirou who kisses you so softly, lips sliding with yours lazily as he lets out little sighs, thumbs slipping under your shirt to tease the smooth skin over your hip bones as you straddle him—until he lets his sharp teeth snag on your bottom lip, chomping into the flesh there, wrenching a startled gasp out of you (he sucks on it apologetically afterwards)
Eijirou who has a thing for letting you dry hump him (while you’re both still clothed), head thumping back on the couch cushion, fingers tight on your waist, flushing, groaning, eyes fluttering shut as he helps you drag your clit back and forth over his cock—dick throbbing painfully from the friction through his jeans
Eijirou who has a switch that flips once he gets to a certain level of aroused, who tosses you onto the bed effortlessly, caging you between his arms, who grips your jaw tightly —forcing it to pop open (he spits possessively into your mouth, telling you to swallow it baby girl, which you do gladly)
Eijirou who loves the feel of your hot, wet mouth sucking his cock, who gets you sitting on your calves on the floor, back against the mattress as his fingers hold the back of your head in place, so he can fuck your throat, who keeps one knee up on the bed next to your head as he thrusts, groin tightening when you look at him with teary eyes (he murmurs lowly baby girl s’good at sucking daddys cock aren’t you? —Your pussy drools)
Eijirou who eats your pussy from behind, soft tongue consistently licking at your clit, fingers stretching your pussy as your face is shoved into the sheets, ass in the air for him, your belly flutters warmly as he smacks your ass with his free hand (it doesn’t take you long to cum like this)
Eijirou whose cock is thick, and you’re talking thick thick, enough that he has to get you dripping before he can get his dick wet (but you love it, the stretch is almost an overwhelming pleasure)
Eijirou who has a daddy kink, who makes you beg for his cock when he has you folded in half—knees almost touching your ears, he teases your pussy with his tip telling you condescendingly you gotta ask daddy nicely if you want to be split open sweetheart (you absolutely do sob daddy please)
Eijirou whose chest gets slick with sweat (hair always falling from its spiky position when you start to go at it), whose moans raise in pitch when he can feel your nipples slipping over & over on his pecs as he fucks you, the sensation making pleasure blister through your limbs, pussy fluttering which makes Eijirou cry out
Eijirou who has a filthy deep stroke, who pants & whispers toe curling praise in your ear but fucks you like he’s trying to carve out your guts, you weave your fingers through his hair, tugging sharply as he moves, (pussy s’good to me sweet thing, daddy loves fucking you, such a tight little thing)
Eijirou who growls under his breath when he fucks you from behind, sliding his cock back in your pussy all the way to the root, forcing a choked sob out of you, who is brutal from the get go, pelvis smacking wetly against yours
Eijirou who makes you cum instantly, wailing please daddy just like that! when he threads his fingers through your hair, forcing your neck back at a sharp angle, activating his quirk just enough on his left hand so he can leave bruises on your hip (oh? right there angel? that was a big one wasn’t it baby, so good cumming for daddy — voice dripping in your belly like honey)
Eijirou who pulls you up into his lap, back against his chest, hand around your throat as he bounces you on his cock, who makes your back arch as he bites on your shoulder, whining lowly as he cums, whose cock you can feel pulsing as his sticky release fills you up (fuck daddy, love when you cum in me — that makes his eyes roll back)
Eijirou who has you limping to the shower afterwards, but he washes your body, rubs your lower back, who tells you how much he loves you as he carries you back to the bed in a towel, who makes you giggle as he pokes your ribs when you change into one of his large T-shirts
Eijirou whose face you pepper with kisses when he climbs into the bed with you, who lets you wake him up in the middle of the night to ride him sweet and slow, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, limbs heavy with sleep, who cradles you against his chest when you eventually fall back asleep
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Note
I have something fluffy to give you🥰🩷
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Bucky sees Single Mom!Reader at the local grocery store and Bucky being the gentleman he is offers to help her with her crying baby🥺
"Guess I'm Just Good With Them"
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PAIRINGS: James "Bucky" Barnes x SingleMom!Reader
WARNINGS: Bucky being good with babies.
WORD COUNT: 867
*not proof-read*
ENJOY!
"Leila, honey. I know, but- Shh, shh," you pull your cart over to sit next to the toy aisle as you bounce your, now wailing, one-year-old girl on your arm.
"My love, I know, I know. But we gotta keep quiet," you wince as you feel the glares of the other ongoing shoppers on you and your child.
Being a single mom has its ups and downs, the ups are the highlights of your life. Witnessing the mini-you walk for the first time, saying "mama" for the first time, seeing her give you that gummy smile you love so much.
The others aren't your defining lows, but they hover in that range. The late nights, the screams, the tantrums, the picky eating. You had to do it yourself because your ass of an ex left you immediately when you said that you were pregnant.
"Leila, baby. Mama doesn't know what you want, honey," you have tried everything, but your girl wouldn't calm down to anything and nothing works. Your anxiety just increases as the number of glares doesn't stop rising.
You're on the verge of tears when suddenly you feel a tap on your shoulder.
"Ma'am, do you need some help?" a rough voice says behind you.
You turn and see this big, broad man with this sheepish look on his face, and the bluest eyes.
"I- uh," you stutter unsure what to do, you can't randomly dump your baby on some random stranger.
He shifts his weight from side to side, looking at your baby with a small smile. Leila whines harder and it slightly pierces your ears, you cringe and bounce her quicker than before.
The man picks out a Piglet stuffed animal from the toy aisle and shakes it in front of Leila. Her wail quiets down, and she reaches for the stuffed cartoon character.
Soon, it's just her flushed puffy face and dried tears on her cheeks as she holds the toy close.
"I-oh my god, thank you," you tell the stranger, he gives a tight-lipped smile and nods at your words.
"I can hold on to her and follow you around, while you do your shopping," he suggests, and you hesitate slightly but give in eventually knowing that this won't go anywhere if you don't take action now.
You hand Leila to the man, and he softly coos at the little girl. Leila seems fascinated by his gold and dark green metal arm.
"What's her name?" he asks, looking at you. "Oh uh, Leila," you say, pulling your cart closer to you. "And your's?" You blink at his question, before offering your with a timid voice.
"I'm James," he smiles softly.
-----
You finally paid for everything in your cart, and the tension in your shoulders seems to ease at the idea of you finally being able to get home.
Putting everything in the trunk of your car was easily done, with the weight of your child in James' arms.
Turning back to James, you see Leila still holding the stuffed Piglet.
"Leila, no, we didn't pay for that," you try to reach for the toy, but your stubborn little girl refuses to budge.
James chuckles, and he shakes his head, "it's alright, I paid for it. She can have it."
You're silent.
You're gobsmacked.
Did this man, this random stranger buy your child a toy?
That's more than your ex ever did.
"I-huh?-wha- James, you didn't have to do that," you quickly reach for your wallet, adamant about paying him back.
He grabs your wrist with one hand, his metal one carrying a tired Leila, "really, you don't have to."
You sigh and smile tiredly at him.
Sometimes, you underestimate the kindness of strangers. And as a single mom, you really are grateful for anything that comes your way.
You take Leila back into your arms and she's whipped. She immediately finds comfort in your arms and closes her eyes.
"Well, I guess we should get going."
Why did you say it like that?
Why did you say it like you didn't want to leave yet?
Like you didn't want to leave him yet.
You can see a sadness flash through James's face as he nods slowly, "yes, guess I should go too."
You both nod but remain standing at the Walmart parking lot.
"I should really go," you nod your head over your shoulder.
He nods as well.
As you turn to leave, he calls out your name.
"Is there a chance that I could grab your number?" He scratches the back of his neck. "I would like to see you and Leila again."
You blush at his words.
He wants to see you again?
You nod slightly and type your number into his flip-phone, you laughed when he first pulled it out.
You chuckle unable to wrap your mind around the idea of this gorgeous man wanting to ask for your number, "I still don't have a clue on how you managed to get her to quiet down back in there."
He laughs lightly and saves your name with a small heart next to it, you don't have to know that he did that. "Guess I'm just good with them."
💌💌💌
ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS PROMPT, BABES!!!
Bucky + children = me being super horny
I just wanna have a life, where this man is really 😩😩
Till' then
Stay Coquette-y,
Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀
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jamespotterismydaddy · 8 months
Text
the Birth of Venus
daemon x reader smut
A/N: reader is mentioned to be Valyrain but I don't think I really describe features. This is based off a request here. hope you like it!!
word count: 1,106 words
TW: smut, allusions to possible incest, breeding kink, pussy slapping, pushing down on the tummy hehe
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Is this the third or fourth time he’s been exiled? Daemon can’t seem to keep up. His own sweet niece was the cause of it this time. He couldn’t, or rather wouldn’t, keep his hands off of her. He heads to Lys this time. He enjoys Lys, mainly taking pleasure from the appearance of Lyseni whores. That’s what draws him to you. You sit in the pleasure house, surrounded by the other girls who all try to look desirable. The madam has you posing as the Birth of Venus. She gave you the honour of portraying the love goddess herself, encircled by the nymphs. His eyes fill with lust at the sight of you. Who better to play as Venus than a girl who looks so inherently… Valyrian. 
“I want her.” He says to your madam as he looks directly at you, his gaze piercing.
“My Lord, I am afraid I am reserved.” You say with a little smirk on your face. You were told to speak these words every time you were asked for until a bid for your virginity is accepted.
“No she’s not.” The madam says quickly. “But she is a virgin… a very expensive one, my prince.” You bristle at the title. A prince?
“No price is too great for such a pretty little nymphet.” He says, dropping a bag of gold coins into her hand.
“I am no nymph. I am Venus.” You say, putting yourself on a pedestal for him.
He looks amused. “I’m sure you are.” He says and holds up a hand for you to take, leading you off your watery throne.
“You are a prince?” You ask innocently.
“The Rogue Prince.” You nearly gasp.
“You’re Daemon Targaryen.”
“Who else would I be?” He holds open a door for you, letting you enter first.
“Some rich Lyseni lord who has enough money to call himself ‘prince’.” You say a bit snippily.
“I can prove it to you, show you my dragon, Caraxes.” He says as he walks up behind you, brushing your hair off your shoulder.
“Is that what you call your cock?” You ask playfully. He laughs.
“You’re quick… for a harlot.” He presses a light kiss to your neck.
“I’m no harlot yet. Not while I am still a maiden.” You whisper.
“I can fix that.” He doesn’t take the time to untie your chemise, he instead tears it down the middle and lets the shreds slip off of you, causing you to gasp. He is clearly pleased by your lack of smallclothes. You can tell by the way his fingers trace around your breasts. “Such a pretty girl. You’re no common Lyseni whore. There’s Valyrian blood in you. I can feel it.” He turns you and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. You gaze up at him. “Tell me of your parents.” 
You shrug. “My mother washes clothes.” 
“And your father?”
You shrug again.
“Hmm…” He hums. The prince clearly thinks that you’re dragonseed. He just is trying to figure out who’s you are, deciding that you are perhaps a little too old to be his.
“Is it a matter of importance, my prince?” You ask, your tone a little too disrespectful for the fact that you are speaking to royalty.
“Should you be speaking to a man who has you, naked in a bedchamber, like that?” He speaks, always with that air of amusement. He enjoys your temper. It’s the same Targaryen temper that he has.
“I have been reserving it for you, your grace.”
He chuckles. “Little seductress.” He grabs you by the chin, gently as first before swiftly tilting your head up and to the side. “Get on the bed.”  You scurry over, quickly lying on the bed. His eyes are dark as he looks over you. He pulls his trousers down slightly so he can pump his cock as he watches you. It makes you nervous, how domineering he is, how… large certain parts of him are. “Don’t be scared. I’m going to make a woman out of you.”
“I can’t imagine, with all that confidence, that some of it isn’t misplaced.” You tease because you can see how he likes it.
“Spread your legs.” Is all that he says in response. You do as he bids and are surprised when a harsh slap comes down between your thighs.
“Ah!” You wince and curl in on yourself.
“I didn’t say to close them.” He says sternly so you spread your legs again and take the following two smacks without complaint. Your eyes are watering at this point. “Not so bratty now, are you?” He gives you one of those wolfish smirks and you pout.
“Are you toying with me or fucking me? It must be hard to get it up at your age.” Now, you’ve given him something to prove. Just after you get the words out, he sheaths himself inside of you, right to the hilt.
“I was going to be gentle with you, Venus, but now I don’t think you deserve it.”
“I didn’t think that dragons were meant to be gentle.” He can see a similar fire burning in your eyes, a twinflame to himself. He brings his lips down to yours for a hungry kiss before he begins to pound into you. It hurts from his size but that only makes it better. You want him, desperately.
“Do I… please you, my prince?” You put on an innocent face for him.
“I think your tight cunt would please any man, zaldrītsos.” He says as he fucks into you ruthlessly.
“zaldrītsos?” You ask him.
“It means you’re my little dragon, my zaldrītsos.” He nibbles at your neck and you whimper, his thrusts continue quickly and deeply. “I’m going to put a baby in you. You’ll carry my heir, Venus.” He places his hand on your tummy. “Right in here.” He presses down and the action pushes you over the edge as you tightly squeeze around him, your peak washing over you in full force. “Fuck.” He murmurs. “So tight.” The way you contract around his cock has him spilling his seed deep inside of you.
He pulls himself out but quickly replaces his cock with his fingers so none of his cum spills out. “Can’t have you wasting my seed now.”
“I’ll have a baby now, my prince?” You look at him from beneath your lashes. You’ve never yearned for someone so. It is like your blood calls for his.
“If I breed you regularly, you will.” He runs his thumb over your lips. “Then… then I think that I just might make you my wife.”
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