#but only wanting those is shallow at best | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

last-words-ofashootingstar · 1 month ago

Text

Wild

➾In Which: Your plane goes down in uncharted wilderness — but you don't have to be afraid. He will take care of you.

RATED X. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.

❥Song Mingi x fem reader

Star's Fairytale July

♡'･ᴗ･'♡genre: dark ¿romance?, smut

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: briefly proof read, a spin on "Tarzan", unspecified historical au, light gore, reader loses feeling in one of her legs from the crash + slowly recovers, slight communication barrier: mingi understands everything but has trouble speaking a lot, lowkey feral but soft mingi, size difference, implied chubby reader: has squishy thighs and boobs (we cheered !!), touch starved ming (i want to bite him-), is it stockholm syndrome if he didn't reallyyyy kidnap you, semi-forced cuddling, cleaning and eating animals (rip thumper), mingi has a heart of gold but grew up in the wilderness so is... strange ಠ_ಠ1 non-con scene: dry humping, groping, reader 'lets it' happen because she's afraid he'll make her leave, short scene (reader blacks it out). 1 consensual scene: outdoor, unprotected (they don't have any choice but boooo), teaching him how to kiss, him using what he learned on readers pussy (jjsjshdjan), spit as lube, soft to rough, overstim, titty fixation !!, virgin mingi goes FERAL, like actually feral like biting, growling, manhandling to get deeper, cumming multiple times, moaning like a bitch, trying to breed like his life depends on it feral, mingi only knows three words during sex "more, love, mine"

➯non-con disclaimer: non-con is NOT okay in real life. this is ONLY EVER acceptable in FICTIONAL settings (and even then it's fucked up)

˚⊱like a fairytale⊰˚@m00njinnie @tinyteezer @boxofhyunebuns @ninjakitty15 @binniesbabe @cocostar1117 @raicecakes-and-buldak @scheepsmans @cherrytaesan @motheraiya55 @cotton-candyclouds @tunafishyfishylike @daemyratwst ₊‧⁺stardust˖⋆ @sousydive @sunnysidesins @onyxmango @devilzliaison @ateezswonderland @queenofdumbfuckery @emilysecresy @kyomiingi @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @klllerwaifu @seonghwasslytherin @yoonglesbae

➯a/n: i luv me some feral-ness, and i luvvvvv me some minki <3

♡masterlist + navigation !♡

18+, MINORS WILL BE ABANDONED IN THE JUNGLE.

The smoke makes it hard for him to see.

Perched on a large branch a good bit above the ground, he watches. Observing, carefully.

The plane is stuck on the shore. Half in the shallow water, half not. The pilot must have took a chance at trying to land it on the uneven beach.

He doesn't hear anything besides the creaking metal, the lapping waves. Perhaps whoever was inside perished.

He likes that possibility the best. He doesn't like people — not that he has much experience with them. Those little ones he has had were less than pleasant.

They always treated him... different than the way they treated each other. And then, they tried to drag him back onto their boats.

They left him alone quickly when he started biting.

The wilderness has been his home ever since he was a boy. He'd never leave, and he'd never let anyone else take his home from him.

His head perks up as the door opens. A survivor? Great... He thinks how much trouble it will bring him when —

Out comes you. Sobbing as you fall to the sand. A piece of glass lodged in the side of your thigh and staining your dress with blood.

His interest caught, he climbs down.

You look much different than the other people he's had the misfortune of meeting.

Bare feet on the sand, he makes his way to the fallen plane.

You sound different, too. You're shaped differently. Wearing odd clothes.

He walks right up to you as you cry into your arms; not even noticing his presence until he grips your scalp and pulls your head up.

You scream in shock, grabbing his wrist as he tilts your head from side to side — inspecting you.

You stare at the man dumbfounded. Shock in every fiber of your being. First, your plane had a malfunction and was forced to crash land. Then, you awoke without feeling in one of your legs; looking around to find a piece of glass stuck in it and all of the men you were traveling with dead.

Now, a terrifyingly large and silent man is grabbing your head and looking at you with his eyebrows pressing together — confused.

He thinks you might be another species entirely until he remembers, very distantly, "woman?" His voice is deep and broken, like he doesn't use it a lot.

Frightened and beyond puzzled, you nod in his grasp.

He bites his lip, thinking for a moment. When you go to flinch away, he holds you tighter as he lifts his other hand to your face.

His touch is careful. But it's rough with callouses and awkward as he touches your cheek in a state somewhere between awe and bafflement.

He drops you without care, nodding; to himself you think, because he walks away before you can say anything. You fall back to the sand weakly as he climbs inside the plane — leaving you there with wide and teary eyes.

He comes back out a few minutes later, finding you just where he left you and just as in shock. He has a bag from inside the plane in his hands. He gathered what he wanted and left the rest to collect dust before high tide sweeps the plane further into the water.

"Hold." He says simply, shoving it into your stunned arms.

"W-" You have so many questions. But he doesn't give you the chance to ask any of them before he lifts you up like you weigh almost nothing, slinging you over his broad shoulder.

You groan as your stomach meets his body, clinging to the bag tightly and watching the plane grow further away as he walks away with you.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Eventually, you gave up on asking all of your questions when all you got was silence, one word answers, or grunts in response.

He keeps one arm over the back of your thighs, holding you tightly.

You're so soft compared to anything he's touched before.

He's thankful when you stop talking. He likes the sound of your voice, but he's not used to hearing anything that much. He can finally think.

His body reacted before he had the chance to think this over. Something deep in his brain told him to bring you back with him and he just did it. He wants to figure out why; but it's hard.

Your skin was really soft when he touched your face. It was warm. He liked it. He likes the warmth and the weight of your body as he carries you through the dense trees.

He squeezes your thigh curiously, a hum low in his throat.

Yes, he likes that.

He lowers you with more gentleness than he picked you up with, steadying you with a hand on your hip as your leg buckles under your weight; the other completely useless.

"Stay." He leans you against a tree, turning around and climbing up another with efficiency that makes your jaw drop a bit.

It drops even more as you follow his form, looking up to see what looks like a literal house in the tree.

It's clear he's been here a long time.

A rope ladder drops from the opening, and the strange man follows; climbing down it with something clutched in his teeth.

You, obviously, have a million more questions to ask. But you stay quiet. He seemed to have liked that better — and he's your only chance at survival.

He points to the ground, then to you. 'Sit', you assume. You slide against the rough bark until you sit with your legs sprawled in front of you. Watching him closely as he takes the blade and the large scrap of fabric from his mouth.

"I fix," he says while gesturing to your leg, the small piece of glass still lodged in it.

You swallow thickly before nodding. Theres no way in hell you can fix it yourself. Even though you can't feel it, you know you don't have the guts to pull the glass out yourself.

He slides your skirts up your claves, straddling the injured leg. He opens his mouth to say something before he changes him mind, only tutting his tongue. He wants to ask your name, what you are called. But he forgets the words for that and it makes him a bit frustrated. He doesn't want to keep calling you 'woman' when he thinks of you.

You want to tell him to be careful as he lifts the fabric over the glass to get it out of the way — but you decide against it. You don't even know how much he speaks, how much he knows. It seems like a good bit.

You finally drop the bag next to you and bundle up your skirts, holding them out of the way. Avoiding looking at the mess, you look at him instead while he examines the wound.

His shorts were once pants, cut at the thigh — for less restriction, you assume. His shirt is missing quite a few buttons and you suppose that's why he doesn't button it up. One of his wrists has homemade rope bracelets stacked on it. He has scars all over his body.

A long and rough one across his torso. One short and smooth across the front of his forearm. A little one below his eyebrow.

"What is your name?" You ask softly, and it gives him pause. "Do you have one?"

You talk to him like he understands — and he loves it. Because he does understand. That's what the others didn't get, where they went wrong. They assumed he didn't comprehend full sentences because he didn't use them.

It sounds foreign on his own tongue as he shares, for the first time in many, many years; his own name.

"Mingi."

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

The inside of Mingi's tree house is strangely put together, for being in the middle of literally nowhere on an uninhabited island.

He has a bed of moss covered with a military issued brown blanket. You kind of want to ask where he got that, but it seems obvious. From someone else who crash landed or came across the island.

He's quiet as he slowly lays you down on it; having carried you up the ladder as you clung to his neck. Your thigh is wrapped up tightly with the strip of fabric, your skirt cut to just above it. He throws the ripped and bloody bottom half of it into a corner, thinking he can clean it and use it for something else.

You're starting to get cold. Blood loss is catching up to you as your adrenaline levels lower because you start feeling safer and safer with the strange man. You know you shouldn't. He seems... well, you don't know.

He's unlike any man you've ever met. His silence unnerves you. His gaze is much too intense. He has zero sense of personal space.

But he's gentle, now at least. And he doesn't look at you like you're beneath him; as many men in society do.

He touches your cheek again as he hovers over you, crouching by the makeshift bed. Fingertips grazing your skin slowly. "Soft." He says lowly.

"Th-thank you?" You whisper, a bit frightened.

He nods, "I like." And he stands up like that isn't a strange thing to say, probably because he doesn't think it is, turning to some fruit hanging by one of the window-like openings.

You push yourself up on your elbows, watching him. "How long have you lived here?"

He has to take a second to think of the word, "ever."

"How?" You ask, astonished, and only get a shrug in response as he comes back to you.

He really is not much of talker, you've found out quickly.

Sitting next to you on the blanket, he pulls off a piece of dried fruit and offers it to you. When you only look at it, slightly suspicious, he shoves it into your hand. "Eat."

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

When the sun sets, you've barely been holding your eyes open for the past few hours.

He hasn't shown any intention of hurting you, but your mind still yells to stay alert because he's a stranger — an incredibly strange and strong stranger, at that.

"Mingi."

He looks over to you quickly from his place on the floor; where he braids some plant material together into a rope. Almost like he forgot you were there, but he didn't. He's just so very unused to hearing someone speak; let alone hearing his name.

"Do you sleep at night? When it's dark?" It seems like a stupid question, but you genuinely don't know. He doesn't seem tired at all. Obviously, he has to sleep. He's human. But when is a different question.

He nods, tilts his head.

"Soon?" You stifle a yawn, but he catches it. If he sleeps while you do, maybe it's less chance he can hurt you. That's what your logic tells you.

"No," he turns back to the rope and keeps braiding. Sleeping while someone new is around is practically asking for trouble, that's what his logic tells him. He'll wait until you fall asleep.

You let out a sigh as you rest your head on your arm, rolling onto your side to face him. Your leg is starting to tingle, which you suppose is good news. At least you're feeling something.

"Thank you," you whisper, "for saving me." He grunts softly in response.

No matter how hard you try to keep your eyes open, they start falling shut for longer and longer until sleep eventually takes you.

When he hears your even, quiet breathing, he looks over his shoulder. Dropping the rope he was working on, he quickly slides off his open shirt and climbs over you. He should sleep in a branch, on the floor at the very least — but he likes his little warm corner.

And you've made it even warmer.

He likes it.

He likes you.

Scooting closer, laying behind you on his side, mirroring you; he follows his instincts and slowly slides his arm under your head, replacing yours. A gentle sigh leaves you in your sleep as you nuzzle against the warmth of his arm.

Yes. He's definitely decided. He likes you.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

A week goes by.

You learn very little about the man who's taking care of you.

You know he is intelligent, maybe not socially aware; but he knows how to tend to wounds using the Earth. In fact — he knows how to do a lot with the Earth. How to make tools, rope, traps, how to fish and hunt, he even uses agriculture to his advantage; has a small garden you can see from one of the openings in the suspended hut.

That's where you are now. Sitting on the ledge with your legs dangling, kicking them slowly to get some sort of exercise, watching Mingi tend to his plants.

You still can't hold all of your weight on your bad leg. The feeling in it comes and goes. You weren't shocked when he all but banned you from leaving the small tree house — only shaking his head and saying "no" whenever you asked about helping him below. You suppose it's fair. You'd probably be more trouble than you'd be help.

He does let you do some things. After you said you felt guilty for being so reliant on him. You're allowed to scrub and hang both of your clothes with the buckets of water he brings up.

You learned, or rather; he taught you, how to skin a few different animals. The gutting of them still makes you uneasy, so he takes over with that. You're waiting for him to do so now so you can help him cook it over the scavenged pot he lights a fire in almost every day. You rinsed your hands clean of the rabbits blood and limped your way over to the window.

Leaning your head against the wood, you sigh.

You don't think you'll ever go home. You're starting to come to terms, realizing the fact that this is most likely your home now.

It's not all so bad.

Mingi is strange. He's a bit scary at times, when he comes up the ladder breathing heavily with blood dripping down his arms. He still acts like he has no clue what personal space is — even though you've explained it a fair few times. And you know he understands everything you say.

At night, starting the second one, he asks; or rather tells you softly to, "tell me things."

You told him of your home, your hobby's, your family, and friends. About technology and some agriculture things he might be able to make use of.

He hums, or simply breathes differently in response most of the time. If you really peek his interest, he asks, "more." It's usually when you talk about yourself or about things he can make use of.

"(Y/n)." He speaks from below you, snapping you from your thoughts. "Bucket." He says while tapping the rope that leads up to the opening you're seated on.

"Oh, yes," you nod, "sorry." Leaning back with a groan, you get the two wooden buckets, carefully setting the one with the dirtied water in your lap and tying the knot he showed you onto the handle. "Coming down." You lower it with the pulley system, sill in awe of his ingenuity with such limited resources.

He takes them everyday and dumps them away from his area, so as not to attract predators to the smell of blood — at least, that's what you assume. Because getting that detailed information out of him would be near impossible with the way he speaks.

He takes whatever animal as well and leaves the guts he decides not to use in one way or another.

"Be back soon," you call out as he starts walking away, getting a small look over his shoulder as an answer.

You make life a little bit better. He enjoys having you here with him, even if most of the time is spent in silence — he doesn't mind, that's what he likes anyway. But he's found that he likes sharing it with you.

He's also grown fond of physical touch. Not you touching him, not just yet. That still makes him flinch if you move too fast.

But him touching you? He can't get enough. Over the past week, he's grown more brave with it. At first, the first day after he pulled you from the wreckage, it was only to change the makeshift bandage on your wound. That night, he put his hand on your waist as he laid down behind you. He liked squeezing it.

The morning after, he helped you stand and try to walk. You didn't get very far — but he kept his hands on your hips as you braced yourself on the wall. That night, he drug you to lay with your back to his chest.

He's gotten braver and bolder. It makes you a bit uncomfortable, like he might try to take advantage of your weakened state; but you don't even know if he knows what sex is.

He does. Well — not really. But he's woken up with hard-ons before and he knows how to take care of them.

You do have him thinking, though. What it might feel like to put himself between your cushiony thighs or put his face in your chest.

He decides he'll try tonight as he climbs up the ladder and finds you changing into the large shirt he's given you to wear at night. He swallows, his throat suddenly dry. Something warm and needy flicking to life in his gut.

He clears his throat, setting the bucket with the rabbit in it down.

"Thank you." You say that a lot, he's realized. You don't want him to throw you to the wilderness if he suddenly deems you too much trouble; you make your gratitude very clear. That's another thing he likes about you.

Even injured and in an environment so different from what you're used to, you try to pull your weight and make yourself as useful as you can.

He only nods, headed to the line of clothes you hung up earlier that day and getting the softer pair of shorts he has to his name. He doesn't bother with modesty; so you turn around as he strips himself and stretches his arms above his head. Busying yourself with skewering the meat.

The night continues like the last seven had. He lights the small bundle of firewood in the metal pot and sits across from you, cooking some for you and handing it over before he does the same for himself. He helps you stand and walk from wall to wall until your leg gives out and he carries you to the moss bed.

Now is usually the part where he asks for you to tell him things until you're too tired to continue.

But that's not what happens tonight.

He usually helps you to lay on your side and gets behind you.

Not tonight.

Tonight, he lays you on your back and straddles your hips. He touches your cheek. With just his fingertips, at first. Then he cradles your face in his palm and hums contentedly as your warmth seeps into him.

"What are you doing?" You ask shakily as he lowers himself a bit, still holding your cheek as he presses his face to your chest.

"Soft." He mumbles, cuddling his face closer. He likes them — he likes them a lot. His cock is twitching in his shorts.

You stay completely still underneath him. Not scared of him, exactly. But scared of what he might do if you deny him the affection- the intimacy he craves.

You'd never survive a day without him.

So you bite your lip as humiliation creeps up while he gives an experimental roll of his hips. And he moans. Low and quiet; just over the insects chirping outside.

He slides his hand lower, tracing your neck softly before it reaches your breast and he gives it a squeeze. He moans louder, moves harsher against you.

You let out a shaky breath as you close your eyes tightly, trying to disappear from your own skin as your savior gropes you.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Another week goes by.

If Mingi notices you're more uncomfortable with his touches the first three days, he doesn't say anything. He keeps them the same as before that night. Like it never even happened — but he had clearly enjoyed himself. Once or twice, you've caught him staring at your chest.

Day four is when you start getting more relaxed around him again. He brings you flowers that day. Yellow petals and bright green stems. Awkwardly holds them out to you, points between you and them, and says, "you." They remind him of you.

Five and six, or rather; twelve and thirteen, pass without incident.

It's on day seven of the second week he picks you up and says, "with me." He helps you wrap your legs around him and you hold on tightly as he climbs down the ladder. You know better than to question him.

You just enjoy the change of scenery, hugging onto his back until he stops.

Your jaw drops as you look at the large waterhole. It's crystal clear, you can see all of the rocks at the bottom, the little tassels of water grass and the small fish swimming through it.

"Swim?" He looks over his shoulder, something like a smile on his lips as he sees the joy in your eyes.

"Yeah- yes! Yes!" You hug onto him tighter, smiling as well. "Thank you for bringing me here, Mingi."

His name still sounds odd to hear out loud, but he thinks he likes the way you say it.

He slowly lowers you from his back, steadying you as your leg trembles a bit. "Water-" He groans, tilting his head as he unwraps your healing wound, "good."

"I think so too," you nod. He definitely likes that about you. You still don't shorten your sentences or talk to him like he can't understand. "It will be good to move it around without pressure on it."

Exactly what he was thinking, although he could never express it as elegantly as you. His lips do that thing they've been doing lately — turning up in the corners.

You decide against going fully nude, but he has no qualms about stripping bare before diving into the water.

In just your underwear, you slowly lower yourself to sit on the edge before pushing off and submerging yourself.

It feels wonderful. Beyond wonderful — it feels magical. You and Mingi both freshened up each day with clean water and fabric scraps, but this is entirely different. Like your soul is being cleansed and lightened of its burdens as the water surrounds you.

You push your hair out of your face as you come back up, laughing happily.

Mingi hasn't heard that sound from you before, but he enjoys it nonetheless. It makes him feel warm.

"Happy?" He hums curiously as he swims, going back and forth the length of the water slowly.

"Very." You reply quickly, moving to copy his movements.

He definitely has more stamina than you, but he slows himself down a bit to match your pace as you try to keep up.

And you're both content to swim back and forth in silence for a while, it must be at least thirty minutes later when you finally give in to your muscles begging for mercy. You haven't moved this much since before your plane crashed.

You fold your arms over one another on the edge of the water, breathing a bit heavily as you catch your breath.

Mingi comes up beside you, no worse for wear; and looks at you for a moment before copying your pose. He rests his chin on his arms and looks out into the wilderness with you. "Happy." He says lowly.

You turn your head, resting it on your arms as you peer over at him. "You are?" You search for clarification, kicking your legs slowly.

He nods, moving again to mirror you. "Was... lonely. But, people before; no good." He reaches over and touches your cheek, "you good."

You only smile in response. It's the most words you've ever heard him say in one day it feels like, let alone one 'sentence'.

Pushing yourself a bit closer, you slowly lift your hand. And he doesn't flinch like he normally might. He leans into your touch as you cradle his cheek, sighing softly. "Like you."

"I like you too," you move carefully, until your hip brushes against his side under the water. "Do you know... what a kiss is?"

"Kiss?" He repeats you with a small raise of his eyebrows.

"Yeah, kiss," you lean forward. His eyes are locked on yours, watching you intently as you lift yourself up a bit to be level with his face. "For affection, when you like something," you press your lips to his cheek softly, "you do that."

He cranes his neck, delicately placing his lips against your cheek for a moment longer than you did to him. He has a soft blush across his tanned cheeks when he pulls back.

"Nice, right?" You say with a bit of a giggle, seeing the man who literally climbs trees and hunts in the woods with bare feet get flustered at something as simple as a cheek kiss.

"Nice," he mimics you with a smile; one undeniable. He has a nice smile, you realize. Warm like the sunshine that beams down on the cool water you're in.

"It feels nice," you readjusted yourself, fidgeting a bit shyly yourself, "to kiss in other ways too."

He leans closer, "show." Show him. Effective immediately, you have to show him.

"Oh, I don't know-" You're getting cold feet. You want to kiss him for real, but what if that changes things? You know it realistically shouldn't, he doesn't know how intimate kissing on the lips can be. He doesn't know the implications of it.

"Please?"

He catches you off guard with that. He never asks for things. Always tells or gestures. But now, his eyes are soft and asking.

"O-okay," you nod before lifting yourself up to sit on the ledge. He watches maybe too closely as the water runs down your chest. "Close your eyes."

He hesitates, only for a moment, before he does so.

He flinches when you cup his jaw, but he quickly relaxes into your touch as you pull him forward. And he absolutely melts when he feels your lips against his own — the touch feathery light.

It's like a flip switches in his brain, something instinctual. And all he ever does is listen to his instincts; so he follows his bodies lead and presses his lips to yours harder as he moves to slot himself between your knees.

Holding himself up with his hands on either side of your thighs, he follows your slow movements. His heart starts racing. His skin feels like it's tingling under your touch.

"Open your mouth," you whisper heavily against his lips; having him practically chasing your mouth as you pull back to do so.

And if he thought he liked kissing before — he has no doubt about it now, as you slip your tongue into his mouth.

He just about loses what's left of his mind when you press it against his.

He has to pull away, panting heavily and blushing deeply. "Like that." Comes out a moan. His cock twitches as he runs his eyes over your body slowly, watching the rise and fall of your chest.

"You do?" His answer to your question is to jump out of the water and yank you to your feet.

He has to bend down to kiss you again, copying your actions and cupping your cheeks as he moves against you.

He definitely does like it.

His tongue is a lot more adventurous than yours was. More wild. Licking the roof of your mouth and tracing your teeth and touching every single inch he can possibly reach. You would never think this was his second kiss.

To think he's practically devouring your mouth and you only taught him what a kiss is a few minutes ago.

His hands slide down your neck as he leans back, resting over your chest while he looks at you closely; taking in every part of you he can. "W-" He stutters, for the first time ever. For the first time ever — he's rendered completely speechless.

"You're really good at that," your panted words make him twitch again. When you stumble, he grabs your hip to steady you.

One hand on your hip, the other engulfing your breast; he helps you lower onto the ground, eyes never leaving yours. He goes even further than helping you sit, and pushes you to lay back. Hovering over you, "more than like. Word?"

"More than like?" You shiver under his intense gaze, your heart about to burst with the ferocity with which it beats. "Love, maybe?"

"Love," he nods quickly, straddling your thighs.

"You love me?" You question with butterflies blossoming in your stomach.

He nods, shakes his head, then nods again, then he groans frustratedly and slams his mouth against yours more passionately as he slides his hands all over your body. He goes as far to nip your bottom lip before he pulls back.

"You are love." His clarification makes little sense, but it makes all the sense in the world at the same time.

He doesn't remember what love feels like. The memories of everyone he knew faded with time. But something about you — your softness, your gratitude, the color of your eyes in the sunlight, your willingness to learn how to help, the determination when you hold yourself up on your injured leg to try and push yourself — he can't help but feel... warmth.

Blooming in his chest whenever he looks at you, when he thinks of you. He doesn't love you, he thinks. It's more than that. You are love because you're the only thing he can think of and start smiling, the only thing that feels so gentle and sweet.

You feel like something he never wants to let go of.

If a rescue party ever did come for you, he'd fight them off tooth and nail. Because you make his life better somehow. He isn't just surviving anymore. He's living. And he won't go back.

"You," he points to your heart, then to his, "here."

He does love you. He wants you to stay with him. He welcomes you into his home, his wilderness. Nobody else. Only you — and only ever you; because he is not willing to risk any other humans coming near you.

"Thank you, Mingi," you smile, shyly, at his affectionate gesture. "I feel the same way."

He leans back over you and presses his forehead to yours, his eyes asking silently; 'really?'

"Yes," you nod, slowly wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You give him a softer kiss, barely grazing his lips and it drives him crazy. He likes — he loves how soft you are.

He squeezes your breasts in his palms, leading you to let out a soft moan against his lips. At the sound; he finds that he's officially hard. His member leaking against your leg.

He crawls down, pushing you back down by your shoulders when you go to sit up. "No." Is all he says before he starts leaving sloppy and heated kisses all over your chest.

"Oh-" You gasp quietly, melting between him and the Earth.

He's so unabashed about what he wants. Always, but especially now; you come to realize. He does whatever his brain tells him to do to get a taste of oxytocin. It's primal. The way he grabs and squishes your body like he's playing with it, like he's exploring how it feels — because he is. The way he pauses at your hardened nipple before giving it an experimental kitten lick.

And when you moan a bit louder, arching into him; he decides that definitely gives him what he's looking for. You give him what he's looking for.

He wraps a hand around his length, groaning lowly as he gives your other nipple a lick. Then he nuzzles his face between them while moving his fist along his cock. "Soft..."

When his free hand slides down your waist and meets the fabric of your panties, he realized there's one part of you he's never even seen. Putting two and two together — how you've been so protective and shy about it, and how it's between your legs like his cock is between his; he smiles. It must be your center of pleasure.

He's pulling your underwear down before you know what's what. "Mingi-" You squeal in shock, going to put your hands over your soaked cunt when he grabs your wrists and pouts as you press your thighs together. An honest to goodness pout.

He wants to say a lot of things right now. Like please let him touch you. Please let him feel how soft you are in comparison to him. Show him how to make you feel good. But he's blanking on his words, only grunting as he puts your hands back on the ground.

"It's..." You feel heat burning your face, all the way down your neck, "sensitive."

He doesn't say anything, but the look in his eyes says he'll be gentle as he touches; as he explores. You look away as you spread your legs, breathing a bit heavily.

And he wastes no time, sitting on his knees between your legs and bringing his fingertips to graze your cunt. So gentle it makes you twitch. He traces down your lips, watching closely. When he notices your wet slit, that's where his fingers go.

Earning himself another timid moan from you urges him on. He lets out one of his own as he feels just how warm and wet you are, his eyebrows pinching together as he touches you carefully. He, again, quickly decides he likes it.

If he likes it — he should give it a kiss. That's what his brain tells him.

You're a bit confused, a little disappointed as his touch leaves you. But by the time you're looking at him, he's already bent down and giving your cunt a soft kiss.

"Mmf-" You muffle yourself with a hand over your mouth, hips twitching.

He looks up, smiling. That must feel good, you like kissing; and you must really like it down here.

So he wastes no time diving in and kissing your wetness. Just as messy and raw with primal intent as he had explored your mouth; he does the same between your legs. Licking up and down and feeling everything he can. The noises you're making tell him he must be doing a great job, because even with your hand over your mouth embarrassedly; your moans sound out loud enough for him to hear them and drink them up like he's dying of thirst.

His tongue goes a little bit lower and he finds your hole, slipping inside curiously and making you cry out. He pulls back with wide eyes, his cock twitching for attention.

It was even hotter than the rest of you, even softer...

He lays back over you quickly, his chest crushing you to the ground as he looks deep into your eyes. "In."

"W-what?" You stutter, dizzy from his intense make out session with your cunt. Grabbing onto his biceps, you try to make sense of what he says.

"Want... inside you."

Now your eyes widen. He's a big guy, and that doesn't stop at his cock. You doubt he'd understand if you told him you needed to be stretched first. And by the look in his eyes, he probably wouldn't be able to be patient enough to do so anyway.

"You have to be gentle with me," you say slowly, squeezing his arms, "okay? Put- you can put it in, but you have to go slow."

He nods fast, looking down and gripping the base of his length while holding himself up above you; just enough to have room for you both to look down between your bodies and watch as he lines himself up with you.

He gulps as he slides his tip along your slit, pressing forward as he meets your entrance. You bit your lip, breathing slowly as he pushes forward. You almost cry when his cockhead finally slips all the way in, telling him in a wobbly voice, "wait! Wait a second!"

He groans, fisting his shaft while you clench around his tip. He wants to go all the way in. He needs to. He needs to. He needs to feel your snug heat all around him or he'll cry.

Willing yourself to relax, you let out a shaky breath and look up at the sky as he continues to look down at the way your pussy lips are stretched around just the very tip of his cock. "Slow, please, Mingi."

His name leaving your tongue makes him shudder, a tingle running along his spine. He starts inching forward immediately. Grabbing onto your shoulder tightly to ground himself so he doesn't just slam into you, he watches as you slowly encase his entire length.

He all but collapses on top of you when he bottoms out, pinning you to the ground. You bury your face in his shoulder, panting moans raising goosebumps on his skin. Your walls flutter and twitch as they try to mold around him. Both of you are clinging to each other tightly; his hands gripping your shoulders and your arms wrapped back around him.

"Love," he whines as you clench around him, his fingers twitching to hold you tighter.

"You feel so good..." You whimper back as you rub down his back tenderly. "Do you... you want to move?"

His response is immediate, grinding his hips into yours and moaning loudly; louder than you. He bites his lip, letting go of your shoulders and placing his hands by either side of your head to hold himself up.

His eyes flick from your face to your cunt wildly, and he looks like he's going to ask something — but he gets to annoyed trying to think of any words at all as your gummy walls cling to him. He only growls, pulling his hips back an inch before thrusting back into you with a testing, delicate pace.

And when you moan as he bottoms out again — all hell breaks loose onto your cunt.

"Fuck!" You scream as he starts pounding into you, your back arching from the sudden onslaught. He's hitting every spot inside of you that makes you see dots of white when you squeeze your eyes shut; tickling your brain with the flood of pleasure.

He leans down, his face in your neck; nuzzling you softly in a stark contrast to how he slams his hips against yours. "L-love." He says again.

You can't tell if he's saying he loves how it feels, or if he's calling you 'Love'. It seems like the latter as he moans it yet again, his eyes rolling back into his head as his hips stutter.

He pauses, very briefly, panting heavily into your neck. Before you can even fully register that he's came — his hot release making you shiver with ecstasy as it pools inside of you — he groans, "more."

And his pace returns, harsher than before. More animalistic. Downright brutal as he fucks himself into your cum-slick pussy.

Lowering himself onto his forearms, he latches onto your parted mouth as you moan and gasp uncontrollably; doing just the same as he pounds you into the ground.

Your moans mix together, spit as well as he flicks his tongue against yours lewdly — showing just how much he likes you.

Your cunt feels like heaven on Earth as he buries himself into it repeatedly. He never wants to leave. He never wants you to leave.

As he takes you on the ground like an animal, your moans filling his ears and your eyes dizzy as he pulls away from your lips to look at you — a word comes to mind.

"Mine." He moans it deeply, gripping you tightly and having his eyes nearly roll back again as he squeezes your soft sides.

And your eyes do roll back, yelling out and grabbing his arms tightly as your orgasm suddenly washes over you. Feeling like the pure ecstasy is going to snap you in half somehow as you tremble.

Already messy with his cum, his cock nearly slips out with your wave of arousal and your intense clenching. When he realizes, he growls with frustration — no way in hell is he about to let that happen. He slams all the way into you and holds you still by your hips as you twitch below him; not allowing you to go anywhere.

His cock rests right against your g-spot. It drives you to tears in your post orgasmic sensitivity, makes you dig your nails into his arms for a sense of stability.

"More," he whines as he leans down and nuzzles your chest, mouthing at it more gently as he hears your sniffling. He forces himself to stay still within you and placates himself by wrapping his lips around your nipple. Having no idea that it's making your jaw drop as he twirls his tongue around it.

"Oh, Mingi~"

At the sound of your saccharine voice, dripping with lust, his hips gain a mind of their own again; making you both moan. Your overstimulated cunt clenching around him only makes him go harder. Makes him try to get deeper, groaning when he can't.

His body acts before he knows it, before you know it — and he's pulling up your legs and crushing them to your chest as you whimper at the sudden stretch in your muscles before he knocks away any and all thoughts when he slams his hips into you again. He touches deeper than anything ever has.

He pins your legs to your body as he lays over them, your calves over his shoulders. The sight of it — of him makes you cum all over again. And he's right behind you; spilling his cum even deeper than the first time and satisfying something deep in his soul.

He grinds against you, refusing to stay still but refusing to pull out even a fraction of an inch out while he fills you up. A growl gets stuck low in his throat, and he licks his lips before leaning his head down quickly and biting you.

Like an actual fucking animal, he buries his teeth into your shoulder as he keeps you trapped below him; moaning as you squeal and grab at him. Your hips try fruitlessly to move away, confused by the sudden rush of pain mixing with the body wracking pleasure.

He licks the fresh bite, making you shiver. He didn't break skin — just barely sparred you from it. The deep indentations of his teeth on your skin makes him grin.

Kissing it softly, his pace returns once more; making you wail. "Fuck, Mingi!" And maybe you should learn that saying his name only makes him more excited. But how can you take in any sort of information when he's pounding so deep inside of you that he's practically in your guts?

He rests his head in the crook of your neck, his jaw agape and moans spilling out each time he bullies his cock into you. "Love," he gasps, "more."

How in the world it's even possible for someone to have this much stamina, you can't wrap your head around it. He was a virgin not fifteen minutes ago — and now he's ready to cum for a third time inside of you.

"More," you mimic him with a heavy breath, struggling to get enough air as he keeps you folded up with almost all of his weight on top of you.

He lets out a particularly loud moan as you reach and wrap your hands in his hair gently; holding his head to your neck. Your nails scrape against his scalp, albeit very lightly, and he chokes on his own breath as he slams into his peak.

His hands go everywhere, unsure of what he wants to grab onto as his brain starts feeling the effects of all of his previous orgasms. They land on your breasts and he almost whimpers, squeezing and kneading them in his palms to distract himself from the ache in his cock. "Mine," he stutters as he finally stills above you.

He only moves enough to let your legs fall back down, trembling and heavy. He lays on top of you while he pants; his breaths coming as hot puffs against your skin as he keeps his head buried in your neck. His hands between you as he continues to play with your chest while you both float back down to Earth.

You groan softly, wrapping your arms around his head and hugging him close. "Mine."

· · ─ ·WILD· ─ · ·

962 notes · View notes

everytimewetouch-dot-mp3 · 9 months ago

Text

cang qiong dragon god shen yuan is probably like so old that time doesn’t have meaning? like he transmigrated into pidw as a dragon and and the system gave him a few missions that functionally amounted to ‘claim this mountain range as your territory and defend it from demons’

sy didn’t realize that he was actually laying the foundation for cang qiong mountain sect before its creation. some terrifying demon demigod (one of the first heavenly demons, maybe?) pursues a band of cultivators to his mountain range, and he protects them. they settle his mountains and start cultivating, and because they’re protected by a literal god (who they call lord canglong, and they name the mountains after him) people want to study there.

so cqms is born, and sy takes a nap. when he wakes up, those cultivators he saved bring another group of cultivators, all named 'wen' to his mountain, and they ask his permission to lead the peaks next. another nap, and he wakes up to the wen generation asking his blessing for the ming generation, so on and so forth up until the qing generation. this time he recognizes names: qingge, qingfang, qingqi. this generation's leader, qingyuan. and the one whose bow is shallow and perfunctory, qingqiu. ofc sy isn't super pressed about standing on ceremony or whatever—he's only experienced like six years in this world, and most of them were spent either establishing the mountain as his territory or helping his little cultivators fight off some world-ending cataclysm or other. but he remembers the scum villain’s name, and he’s not a huge fan of the way sqq’s already proving himself to be an arrogant old shit

just like every other time, after he’s met and blessed this generation of peak lords, shen yuan falls asleep. shit!!! he meant to stay awake this time, but the system putting him to sleep is just too powerful! he’s probably missed luo binghe, damnit!!! what’s the point of transmigrating into this shitty novel if he doesn’t even get to meet the only character worth the pixels it took to type him into existence??

but as soon as he sees that fluffy-haired boy curled up in one of his caves, bruised and weeping and wondering what he’s done to be so universally hated, shen yuan knows. that’s his protagonist, and he’s really too pathetic like this. he’s really just a child. and shen yuan might have been easily annoyed by the concept of kids in his first life, but this isn’t just some whiny kid. this is the protagonist. so he does his best to calm tiny lord luo down.

and at first when lbh realizes it’s the fucking dragon god canglong speaking to him, the poor kid falls on his face kowtowing and apologizing for the intrusion, but lord canglong just…asks him what’s wrong. and then listens. and then he allows binghe to…to touch his hand???? not only that, he pats binghe’s head?? and tells him it isn’t his fault??? that one little head-pat is filled with so much spiritual power that binghe almost passes out, and soon after he recovers, lord canglong sends him back down the mountain with a renewed sense of purpose. lord canglong said binghe wasn’t stupid, wasn’t incompetent, wasn’t a failure, and binghe was determined to prove himself worthy of the sect’s guardian deity’s kindness.

and when luo binghe turns to walk down the mountain back to qing jing peak, that google translate voice pipes up in shen yuan’s ear with an update he hadn’t realized he was waiting for.

[Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! Important things must be said three times! USER_002 has completed the quest {From the Ground Up}! B-points +500 USER_002 has initiated the quest {Master of Masters}! New skill [Shapeshifter] has been unlocked! Would USER_002 like to activate [Shapeshifter] now?]

shen yuan slammed the bright glowing [YES] faster than any quest the system had ever given him. that’s how he learned that he was, in fact, just naked in front of luo binghe, and the [Shapeshifter] skill didn’t come with an auto-clothed setting. thank fuck he’d already sent the protagonist away!

#idk i like the idea of sy Unlocking his human form after meeting lbh #also my mans is like 700 years old or something #but also functionally hes like. 24-25 #died at 19 and then slept through like 700 years and generations of peak lords #only waking up for a few years at a time or to meet the next peak lord gen #my mans is from The Age Of Myth he’s so old #dragon god shen yuan #i think that’s the tag i used?#scum villain #scum villain’s self saving system #ren zha fanpai zijiu xitong #svsss #svsss au #scum villain au #shen yuan #luo binghe #bingyuan #dragon god au #yapping

2K notes · View notes

roboticchibitan · 1 year ago

Text

Today I'm going to talk about a form of radical resistance that anyone, no matter their situation, can engage in: cultivating hope.

Are you filled with hopelessness and despair at the state of the world? I have some good news and some bad news.

The bad news is you've fallen for a tool of the status quo. Despair freezes us. It keeps us from imagining and working towards a better world. Despair is easy, because it means we have no reason to take action to make things better. Capitalism? Our oppressors? They want you hopeless for a reason. Because you're easier to control that way.

The good news is! There's a lot of very real reasons for hope. However, hope is something you have to cultivate. It takes work. It is a radical act. It is looking at the status quo and going "actually, no. I refuse."

Maybe you can't risk losing your job to unionize your workplace. Or maybe you're an oppressed minority who can't risk going to protests because our criminal justice system is racist. But cultivating hope in yourself is just as radical an act of resistance as those two things. It is another form of imagining and working towards a better world.

It's not as flashy as starting a union or going to a protest, true. Maybe it feels selfish, like you're only helping yourself. But that's not true. It's a lot harder to help others when you, yourself, are frozen by despair. By working on yourself, you are making it easier for you to help others, in whatever form that takes for you.

For me, since I started my hopepunk practice I have been more able to engage in activism, even if I no longer post about it. Before calls to action froze me. I was so overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of our problems that I was unable to address any of them.

Since I've started cultivating hope in myself, I've unfrozen enough that I was able to choose the causes that matter to me and put my energy there. I engage in more charitable donations and political actions now than I did before. I am happier and also helping others more than I did before.

Cultivating hope in yourself is hard at first. You feel defeated before you even start. But you start putting work in and you find a little hope. And then a little more. And a little more. And then, suddenly. It snowballs and you're doing better than you have in years, and hope comes easier to you now.

If you don't know where to start, go follow @hopepunk-humanity @hope-for-the-planet @afeelgoodblog and @reasonsforhope or follow the hopepunk tag

There's also things like the good news network, who have a daily email they send out with a handful of positive news stories. Some of them I find kinda dumb and shallow like "lost dog returned after 3 years" type stories. But there's also a lot about scientific advancments in green energy, medical care, etc that I find helpful for cultivating hope. Did you know about the CRISPR gene editing tool that's being used to cure incurable illnesses? I didn't! And now I do! afeelgoodblog also runs a substack "best news of last week" newsletter every Monday that I find has stories with more substance, tho it is US focused.

Despair isn't helping anyone, especially not you. Engage in a radical act and start cultivating hope in yourself. You deserve to leave that despair behind, and in the process, you are directly going against the powers that have decided we are easier to control if we are miserable.

#hopepunk

5K notes · View notes

cathnospam · 9 months ago

Text

Trigger warning to those that don’t like panic attacks, but becomes fluffy at the end

“Katsuki?”

His eyes were dark, he looks like he haven’t slept in weeks, and it’s only been a year since the war ended. Granted, everybody was finally able to sleep regularly again, but apparently you must have been wrong.

“I—“

He couldn’t get the words out, his fits were shaking from how hard we was clenching them, his tired eyes began to water, you knew.

“C’mere.” You pull him into your arms, you feel your shoulder dampening and it was a signal for you to squeeze tighter once you shut your door. You couldn’t even move feeling his arms squeeze tighter against your waist. “I’m right here.”

Even though Bakugo managed to live. Managed to pass though rehab, managed to become a big part of fighting against AFO he still has nightmares.

They started off as just seeing himself nearly die but he wakes up right before it happens. But now he’s having nightmares about you. How you took his place instead of him.

This nightmare he seen your body, lying there, tears dried by your eyes, by the time bakugo ran to you Shigiraki turned your body into dust.

It was horrifying.

He woke up in a frenzy, hot, sweating, immediately running out his room to your dorm, his heavy feet nearly sprinting to your room he needed to just double check he almost bust down your door if you haven’t opened it right as he arrived.

“You—-“

“It’s okay….you’re okay—“

“BUT YOU WEREN’T…you…you….” His voice was so shattered. He couldn’t explain it to you, but you had an inkling what he could’ve meant.

He has been going to your dorm a lot lately. Using the excuse “I’m just checking up on YOU.” But in reality it’s you checking on him. He’ll come right before bed and sleep over or come in while you’re sleep and lay on your couch and once with you on the opposite side of your bed.

You couldn’t move, hearing his sniffles tore your heart a little, his breathing was shallow you could feel his heart rate grow faster, his body was shaking and you immediately began to fall on your knees, back on the wall rubbing his back .”I’m right here Katsuki…it’s okay just match my breathing.”

Not wanting to panic either you regulated your breathing for him to copy you, his teeth were gritting to hard you felt it against your shoulder, “C’mon there you go…..just breathe….”

After a few minutes He began to calm down. Your shirt was damp with tears but you knew better than to force him to look at you. So you waited until he did the first move.

Bakugo covered his face with his palm, pausing before attempting to wipe all his tears off his face.

He failed.

You took his hand, palms so sweaty it was nearly slippery to hold up with a firm grip you guided him to your bed. “Stay here tonight.”

He didn’t reply nor negate, he just followed suit. He’d usually have his back facing you, but felt himself willingly fall onto your chest.

“They’re soft right?” You weakly joke about your breast he is laid on, trying to see if he’ll respond, you smile hearing a weak chuckle come out his nose before he snuggles himself between them deeper.

Your fingers run though his soft hair, his heartbeat was in tandem with yours as you felt his chest against your belly.

Bakugo usually handles his panic attacks alone, but for the first time he actually was so happy to have someone like you there with him. His teary eye peaks from the side, you wipe the remnant of tears from his cheek and he nearly melts to your touch.

It was probably the best sleep he has ever had in months thanks to you.

2K notes · View notes

fayerie · 23 days ago

Text

‹𝟹 .ᐟ gojo’s Infinity isn’t just a defense — it’s his ultimate tease.

‹𝟹 .ᐟ unhinged gojo x f!reader , mdni , not proofread

cw: smut , teasing , humiliation , use of supernatural ability (infinity) for: sensory play, orgasm control / denial.

you’re kneeling on the bed, chest pressed to the mattress, ass raised high like you’re on display in a fucking gallery.

your hands clutch the soft sheets beneath you, fingers digging in as you try to steady your racing heart.

gojo is hovering behind you, just barely out of reach. his cock is pressed flush against your slick entrance, teasing you with shallow, maddening thrusts — sliding in, then pulling back, never fully giving you the satisfaction you crave.

his fingers twitch near your clit, tantalizing you with phantom touches that feel like fire, but he never actually makes contact, oh why is that ? because he’s using his infinity, that damned invisible barrier.

“patience is a virtue, babe,” gojo purrs, voice dripping with smug delight as he leans close, his white hair brushing your shoulder; never pausing the torturous relentless toggle between activation and deactivation.

“the best things in life come to those who wait. like this.” he presses a teasing hip against your ass, pushing you down a little further onto his cock. “see? you’re dripping just by thinking about it.”

you whimper, hips trembling. “s-toru, please…” you gasp, voice shaky. “just… touch me... f'ckin..asshole.”

he chuckles, the sound low and amused, as if you’ve just told him the funniest joke in the world.

“oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, fingers hovering an impossible millimeter away from your clit, “i’m touching you right now. it’s just... very exclusive contact.”

you try to arch into him, reaching out to pull him closer, but your fingers hesitate — halted just shy of his wrist, as if an invisible shield shimmers between you, keeping your touch forever out of reach.

“infinity,” he smirks. “i’m untouchable, literally.”

your breath catches. the teasing rhythm is driving you insane.

“you like that? me almost touching you? that little spark? that burning frustration?” his voice is a lazy drawl, cocky as hell. “that’s the real game here.”

you bite your lip, moaning softly as his fingers twitch again. the wet heat pooling between your legs grows hotter, your hips rocking against him without control.

“nnngh, storu…” you whine, voice thick with need. “please—just one touch.”

he presses a finger closer, still not quite touching, and you shiver violently.

“mmm, you’re so needy.” he nips the shell of your ear, voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “what’s this? ‘satoru, i’m gonna—mmmph!’” he smirks against your skin as you gasp, a strangled moan slipping past your lips. “already breaking, huh?”

your hips jerk, thrusting down, desperate to catch even the slightest contact.

“pathetic,” he teases with a grin you feel in his voice.

then — finally — he lets his finger brush your clit, slow and precise.

electricity jolts through you like lightning.

you cry out, hips bucking hard. “ahhh—toru!”

he chuckles, utterly satisfied at how easily he breaks you.

“attagirl,” he breathes, sliding fully inside you at last, filling you deep and slow. “now this is where the fun really begins.”

his hand curls around your hip, holding you steady as his other fingers circle your swollen clit, sending shivers down your spine.

“you’re so wet for me,” he murmurs cockily. “dripping like you want me to ruin you.”

your moans weave through the room like a whispered hymn, beneath them the wet symphony of skin meeting skin — the slick, lingering traces of desire stretching between you both, trembling in the heated air.

“satoru—mmph—fuck—right there—oh god—please—” he grins against your neck, teeth grazing the skin.

“only the best spot for my favorite brat.”

your body trembles, legs shaking with the force of your building orgasm.

“c’mon,” he breathes, voice roughening, “say it. tell me how badly you want me to make you come.”

you pant, eyes fluttering closed. “please, toru… make me come.”

he chuckles again, hips rolling in slow, powerful thrusts, “good girl.”

you’re drowning in the mixture of his cock deep inside you and his fingers circling your clit like a merciless predator.

“ahhhh—oh god, i’m—” you moan, voice breaking with need. “i’m gonna—”

“cum for me,” he commands, voice velvet dark and dangerously smooth.

your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, muscles clenching around him, breath hitching as you scream his name.

gojo holds you tight, chest rising and falling against your back.

“see?” he says smugly, voice softening. “sometimes the best touch… is the one you almost can’t have.”

you laugh breathlessly, sweaty and spent, your fingers curling into the sheets.

gojo’s grin presses against your skin like a promise: he’s just getting started.

divider by @/cafekitsune // art by momoya348 on twt .ᐟ

a/n ‹𝟹: should i make this a series + make a mlist containing all my unhinged gojo drabbles bc i have so many ideas u would notttt believe (freak) now WHO said that ??? also this was quick so it's not as good as the others but still ^_^

657 notes · View notes

loveanddeepdick · 10 months ago

Text

cw: medical malpractice, piv sex, interpret this as a roleplay if u want, creampie, oral sex, implied anal at the end, NASTY PERV GETO

doctor!geto who asks you, his cute little girlfriend to help him “practice” anatomy. you knew in the back of your mind that was straight bullshit but you let him have his way.

“kay, go straight ahead, doctor”, you laughed, thinking he was joking

he was not joking

doctor!geto knows you love his black surgical gloves.

“lay down, angel, the hospital’s making me practice some new procedures and you have the perfect body to test on”

he runs his hands over your clothed body, ‘ just checking for any abnormalities’, he always claims. he lingers over your thighs, you stomach, your pretty tits, and you swear you almost see a smirk when he ‘checks for lumps’ on your throat. he wraps his long, slender fingers and pushes down a little on your esophagus.

doctor!geto who politely asks you to undress, marveling at your naked body on your shared bed.

“baby, is this really necessa—“

“shh, who’s the doctor?”

he pressed his stethoscope onto your chest, smiling as he hears your heartbeat increasing as he gets closer to your tits, your nipples growing hard from hitting the cold air. you roll your eyes, opening your mouth to say something but before you could, the cold metal of the stethoscope rubs over your sensitive peak.

“oops.. sorry, angel”

“pervert.. you do this with all your patients?”

“nah, only my special one right here”, suguru responds, flicking your hardened nub, “‘think i gotta check a little further, hm?”

doctor!geto who has his lips wrapped around your left nipple, sucking and flicking like his life depended on it while his gloved hand tweaked the other.

“‘gotta make sure you don’t have cancer or some shit, angel”

“yeah- ah! right.. you just—fuck! you just wanna fuck me”

doctor!geto has you blushing, covering your face as he spread your legs slowly, biting his lip from smiling too hard as he slowly revealed your pussy as it dripped onto the bedsheets.

“so you are enjoying this”

“sh-shut up! you’re not even a gynecologist what are you looking there for..!”

he moves down the bed, bending over and spreading your pussy lips, delighted to see your little pink hole hidden underneath your lips, clenching and spurting out your slick. eyes trailing up a little, he eyes your clit, twitching from the neglect.

doctor!geto who’s eating you out, savoring your salty taste against his flat tongue, claiming it to check if your pussy is ‘healthy’. he looks up to your clenched eyebrows and eyes rolled back to the back of your head as he plunges his fingers into you.

“you wanna cum, don’t you, angel? you filthy slut, mocking me just minutes ago and now you’re switching up. you can’t even think straight and i’m only fucking you with these dirty gloves and my two fingers”

“pleaseee, sugu, make me cum!”

“sugu? i think you’re forgetting something”, he smirked, pulling out his fingers to give your clit a sharp smack

“please, doctor, please go back in my pussy, i need you”

“good fucking girl”

doctor!geto who has you spreading your legs for him, your hands covering your face from blushing so hard when you see him in full uniform.

“c’mon move those hands, pretty. need to see my patient if we’re gonna have a inspection, right?”

he spread your pussy lips again, smiling how wet you still were

“y’pussy’s fucking begging for it, baby. look how wet she is.. fuuuck yeah”

“please, doctor geto, put it in!”

doctor!geto who has you in a mating press, bullying his cock into you. at some point he’d stoped thrusting and moved onto just humping you shallow. his pink tip rubbing the right way in your g spot as his gloved thumb was rubbing circles onto your clit.

“f-fuck! best. fucking. patient.. ah, fuck, ever”

you couldn’t even respond to him. geto looked up at your face, grinning when he realized he fucked you stupid

doctor!geto who doesn’t even give you a minute to recover, giving hydrating you with water and flipping you back over again, slapping your ass and spreading it open.

“i think another hole of yours needs an inspection as well. don’t you think so too, angel?”

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader smut #geto smut #jjk geto #rina journal 📝

2K notes · View notes

komotionlessqueenmm · 6 months ago

Text

Headcanon/Preference # 37

Gifs NOT mine.

Rating - SFW

Reading time (roughly) - 12 minutes

Year posted - 2025

So yeah I totally killed the reader off in this one... Wanted this one to be angsty. Enjoy.

----------------------------

• Obi-wan Kenobi •

• Obi-wan knew he shouldn't have let you join him on this particular mission.

• He knew something was off about this mission, he had sensed it in the Force.

• But he'd let you join regardless, and now you lay at his feet, bleeding out.

• He quickly dispatched of the enemy, and pulled you into his arms.

• "My love stay with me, you're going to be okay."

• He cradled your head in his free hand, trying desperately to assure you that everything will be okay.

• While also trying to fool himself into thinking you'll be able to pull through.

• As your breathing turned shallow, he kissed your forehead, smiling through the pain.

• He needed to be strong for you.

• And as your eyes fluttered closed, and your chest stilled, Obi-wan felt as if a part of himself had died with you.

• Only then did he allow himself to cry, and Obi-wan Kenobi was never the same.

• Becoming a shell of the man he once was, he eventually leaves the Jedi and roams the galaxy, feeling utterly lost without you by his side.

• Anikin Skywalker •

• Anikin thought he could protect you from anything.

• His one truest love, the one person he would have done anything for.

• This is the most dramatic turn of events for Anikin, the moment when he gave into the dark side.

• Cradling your lifeless body in his arms, Anikin screamed and cried.

• "You can't leave me (Y/n), you can't!"

• And with the aggressive flick of his wrist, he killed those that had taken you from him.

• He was merciless, unforgiving, and beyond angry.

• Anikin felt as if he'd died alongside you, and in many ways he did.

• Alone he laid you to rest.

• His once beautiful blue eyes turned to yellow as he watched you disappear from his life.

• Anikin felt as if your blood was on his hands, as if he failed to protect you.

• He also felt as if he failed you, because if you hadn't loved him as deeply as you did, maybe then you wouldn't have given your life for his.

• The day you died, was the very same day Darth Vader was born.

• Qui-Gon Jinn •

• Qui-Gon knew he shouldn't have grown attached to you, he knew it wouldn't end well.

• The rules about attachments, about love, were in place for this very reason.

• Quickly he took care of the man that had fatally wounded you, and held you close.

• Try as he might with the help of the force he attempted to heal your wounds, unable to do so he tried his best to be strong for you.

• He pecked your lips, and brushed back your hair.

• "You're going to be alright darling, just breath. That's it, just keep breathing."

• His hands shook as he placed his free hand over your wound, trying weakly to stop the bleeding.

• Again he tried using the Force to at least try to ease your pain, to make this easier for you.

• "Just relax my darling, we'll see eachother again."

• Qui-Gon promised you with a weak smile, his heart breaking at the sight of your own equally weak smile.

• His heart breaking further as he felt your breathing slow down considerably, the light in your eyes fading with every shallow breath.

• If there was anything Qui-Gon was grateful for, it was getting to hold you in his arms one last time.

• Darth Maul •

• Maul was foolish enough to think you were untouchable, that you were both untouchable.

• And his world crashed around him as you collapsed to the ground.

• Maul thought he knew pain, but all that he's been through, all that he's done. It was nothing compared to losing you.

• "You'll pay for this!"

• Maul growled at the man that was daring enough to hurt you.

• Ruthlessly he slashed at the man, cutting him limb from limb, and keeping him alive until he was satisfied.

• His rage blinded him, and only subsidied when he heard you wheezing in pain.

• "(Y/n) my star."

• Without another thought he dropped his saber, and rushed to your side, cradling you against his chest.

• He was unfazed by your blood seeping into his robes, firmly placing his hand against your wound, desperately trying to at least slow the bleeding.

• "I'll find you again my star, nothing can keep me from you, nothing."

• Maul promised as he rest his forehead against your own, the connection between you both through the Force, assuring him that he could keep that promise.

• He also swore to take down anyone and everyone that was involved in your demise, whoever that man worked for was as good as dead, and anyone else Maul deemed guilty.

• Maul will destroy worlds to avenge you if he must.

• He kept his eyes locked with yours as you slowly slipped away, his hearts thundering with heartache.

• "We will be together again."

• Maul promised before you gave your final breath, a rage filled scream escaping him as you died.

• And all who knew of Darth Maul, learned that after your demise, the Sith could be far crueler, far darker than he had been when you were still alive.

• Maul eventually turns to the traditions of the Zabrak, and finds a way to reunite with you through the magick of his people.

• It isn't enough, and it'll never be enough, because it is simply a ghost of you.

• But until his demise it is all he can manage, and he will accept that while he cannot hold you anymore, he can at least still see you and speak with you.

• Feral Opress •

• Feral is heartbroken beyond belief.

• You were the only truly good thing in his life, you were his and he was yours.

• Savage had witnessed the whole thing unfold, and for the sake of his brother, he struck down the man that dared to harm you.

• Feral wasn't sure what to do, so he acted on instinct, and laid beside you, pulling you into his arms.

• You had once said laying in his embrace was your favorite thing, the thing that brought you the most comfort.

• And he knew that's all he could do for you, comfort you as you slowly succumbed to your wounds.

• "Sh sh my sweet, just relax, I'm here, I've got you."

• He brushed your hair back in a soothing way, ignoring how much it hurt him to feel your blood painting his skin.

• He peppered kisses across your paling face, his hearts breaking with every kiss.

• You giggled in a pitiful way, coughing a moment later, blood oozed from your mouth.

• And Feral, delicately, lovingly wiped it away.

• "It's okay my sweet, look at me."

• His lip quivered a little as your glossy eyes peered into his own.

• "I love you, don't you ever forget that."

• He pecked your lips, tears escaping him when your final breath wheezed out from your lungs.

• Savage Opress •

• Savage instantly saw red, his hearts filled with rage, and regret.

• He ripped the man who hurt you limb from limb with his bare hands. The man's blood only cooling his temper a little.

• Dropping the carcass carelessly to the ground, he rushed back to your side, and as gently as he could he picked you up and cradled you against his chest.

• With you in his arms, Savage walked carefully across the tundra of the desolate planet you were on, unable, unwilling to just leave you on this wasteland of a planet.

• "Oh little one, my sweet stupid girl. You should have just let me handle him."

• He meant well, he really did. But he was hurt that you would do something so reckless, so selfless.

• You had once promised him forever.

• You giggled weakly, reaching up to caress his handsome face. And Savage melted into your touch.

• His hearts broke, knowing he couldn't save you, not this time.

• His blazing eyes locked onto your pale face, he wanted to commit your face to memory, despite the fact that he already has every part of you committed to memory.

• "I'll see you again little one, through the magick, the Force, I will see you again."

• He promised as he cradled you close, the chill of your skin finally breaking his resolve.

• Savage cried as he held you close, falling to his knees as you struggled to breathe.

• He grew darker that day, much darker. Swearing to fight to the bitter end, until he could be reunited with you once more.

• Kylo Ren •

• The moment you collapsed before his eyes, Kylo felt as if he would die alongside you.

• With a rage filled cry, Kylo cut down the man that hurt you, and threw the rest over a nearby cliff with the Force.

• He fell to his knees beside you, watching helplessly as your blood stained the snow around you.

• "Starlight what have you done?"

• He breathed out as he pulled you into his arms, tears of heartache and rage streaming down his face, his helmet long since abandoned.

• "I couldn't- couldn't let you get hurt."

• You had wheezed out, desperately clutching the deep gash at your side. Kylo's hand rest over yours, desperately hoping to stop the bleeding.

• "I can't live without you."

• Kylo whispered in a broken voice, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

• He squeezed you tighter, as you grew colder and colder in his arms.

• "Don't leave me, please, I can't go on without you."

• Kylo shook in his sorrow and rage, as your breathing became shallow.

• Despite the fact that you were literally dying, you still tried to comfort him, brushing his hair back weakly, your blood staining his pale skin.

• This only served to break his heart further, how can he possibly go on without you?

• Kylo is the most likely to rage an all out war, in hopes of getting himself killed so he could be reunited with you.

• But that's not to say he won't fight to the bitter end.

• Armitage Hux •

• It took everything in Armitage to stay standing, to not collapse and cradle you in his arms.

• If he had done so, he knew your sacrifice would have been in vain.

• But the moment the man is killed by his troopers, he's falling to his knees and pulling you into his arms.

• "GET A MEDICAL DROID NOW!"

• He barks at his men, who rush to follow out his order.

• But it's too late, your once bright eyes are dull and lifeless, having died on impact.

• That doesn't stop Armitage from deluding himself into thinking you'll be okay.

• He's crying, and begging you to wake up, but you don't respond to any of his attempts to stir you.

• "Please angel, wake up, come on."

• He's shaking you, kissing you, and eventually in his desperation he's beating on your chest in an attempt to get your heart pumping again.

• By the time a medical droid comes, he refuses to let you go. His troopers eventually have to tear him away from your body.

• He's kicking and screaming, red in the face as he fights them. But it's no good, they are to strong.

• Armitage has to control himself during your funeral, every instinct in him screaming to not let you go, to fight to bring you back.

• He is much harsher after this, starting arguments more and more with Kylo, and taking every ounce of pain when Kylo throws him across the room with the Force, as if he deserves to be punished.

• He's even trying to goad Kylo into killing him, but the man has a little more restraint than the General had thought.

• Armitage is the most likely to give into his dark depressive thoughts, and take his own life.

• His final thoughts are of you and you alone.

• General Grievous •

• You were his most prized "possession" so to speak, nothing in all of the galaxy meant as much to Grievous as you did.

• "My treasure, no you can't do this, you can't leave me I forbid it!"

• He's killed the man before you even hit the ground, where you lay for mere moments before he's cradling you in his arms.

• He's gentle with you, as he quite literally sprints you to the nearest medical bay.

• "Get out all of you!"

• He barks at the droids, not trusting them to fix what cannot be undone. Certain that he'll be able to save you.

• He's frantic in his attempts to patch you up, almost unaware of the way you gently touch his arm.

• Grievous froze in an instant when you weakly called out his name, his attention now solely on your face, cupping your hand in two of his.

• "What do you need treasure?"

• He asked in a soft voice, ignoring how his voice shook with emotion.

• You simply smiled at him, as if taking in the sight of him was all you cared about in that moment.

• "I-I lo-ve-"

• You tried croaking out, only for your breath to be stolen as you slipped away, dying before his very eyes, trying to declare your love one last time.

• The very ground shook with his scream of despair and heart retching agony.

• From that moment on he took out every ounce of pain and anger at losing you on anyone he deemed a threat.

• Sometimes even on innocent people, who would unknowingly remind him of you.

• He fought dirty and ruthlessly, uncaring if he would get himself killed, or if he would even succeed.

• Grievous also travelled far and wide across the galaxy in an attempt to find some way to bring you back to life.

• He cared not for whatever it might cost, or what he might have to do, who he would have to kill.

• If there is a way he can bring you back, he'll find a way, not matter how long it takes.

----------------------------

747 notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago

Note

Hi hi!!! Can I request Bob and Void relationship headcanons please! Love your work and I hope you have a good day!

Void’s section of this is possessive, controlling and kinda manipulative in a way, so I might as well put that out there for you all.

Bob is the sweetest man who’s been given the hardest time, yet he still smiles and is warm and beautiful and gentle with how he goes through your relationship with you.

Seriously this man thinks he’s the luckiest person in existence to have you in his life, he’s always waking up everyday with the thought that you were with him, it’s enough to have him smile and feel giddy and feel as if he could do anything. (He literally can do anything, he’s powerful and invincible)

Yet while all the power he has, you made him feel the most powerful in his entire life and he couldn’t even explain just how much you mean to him, he could try but feared he’d only trip up on his words and just end up sheepish and apologising for not being able to get his words straight.

But seriously you’ve blessed this man in ways you can barely understand. You’ve given him hope, security, a safe haven for when he has his really bad days and been nothing but an encouraging force when he has his good days and did the smallest things like get out of bed or shower.

Your support and understanding of his situation was something he thought he’d never get, something he feared he be called a burden for, and yet you stood by him no matter what and still confidently called him the man you loved with your whole heart and nothing less.

You didn’t see no reason to view him less when he was unable to get out of bed, but instead you kept him company and made sure he was comfortable, you reminded him that you weren’t going anywhere if he wasn’t going. You wanted to stay with him and gently kiss his forehead, caress your fingers across his dark bag and press your forehead against his and just stay there as though you were trying to reach his thoughts and tell them to cut him some slack.

All Bob could do during those low point was be on the brink of tears with how gently you cared for him while still being from enough to remind him that he should at least eat or drink a little, you didn’t care about missing out on anything, not when your partner was internally suffering and you’d gladly care for him until he wasn’t able to make it past his bedroom door. He didn’t believe that he deserved you at most time but you’d always peck him on the lips before he could even finish the sentence.

‘You are just as deserving of anything just like anyone else, if not more and I will not have you talk down on yourself, you are my partner and I will stand by your side whenever you need me to.’ You tell him earnestly, holding his face within your hands. ‘You need me and I need you just as much, if not more, I’m not leaving you to rot when I know I can at least be of some help. I love you too much to be so heartless and shallow.’

Hugs are a thing you do when words fail you, you just hold each other closely, foreheads pressed to one another as you just allowed your gently caresses and calm breathing speak how you felt at ease and at peace with one another. It was a difficult start when Bon would flinch when your hands touched his cheeks, so you took it one step at a time until he was poetically refusing to let go of your wrists, keeping your hands pressed to his cheeks as he melts in your touch, memorising it as best as he could while looking at you adoringly.

He made you feel seen and loved in a way that left you speechless, breathless but in the best way. You wanted all of his love and you didn’t have to say much to get it either as he was eager to give it to you with the soft, uncertain kisses he left upon your cheek or forehead and smiling sheepishly afterwards as he asks if he did good with burning cheeks.

‘You always do good for me baby.’ You replied, which only made his cheeks burn redder as his smile stretched across his face.

His hands can barely stay still for a single second. They need to be doing something and they’re favouring to do? Fiddle with your fingers or hold onto some part of you when you were within reach, whether it be your shirt, jacket sleeve or jeans. Bob’s fingers will fiddle with it or your fingers as you intertwine your hands, allowing him to caress your knuckles with his thumb or squeeze your hand three times to tell you he loved you.

Loving Bob was a dream come true for you, loving you was a dream come true for Bob, loving each other as deeply and a truly as you two did was something envied by all as a love as innocent and pure as yours was surly the stuff of romance books and happily ever after. You were his guiding light and he was your golden guardian.

Bob gets incredibly flustered when you wear his sweatshirts, seriously as if you couldn’t be more beautiful in this man’s eyes, you had to go and steal his sweater and make this man’s heart go into overdrive. He’s staring at you the entire day like a lovesick puppy until someone (John the prick) tells him that he’s staring and suddenly you were far too precious for him to look at.

You secretly loved his adoring staring and his inability to look away, so you smack John in the back of his head for being a prick towards your lover, saying that if there was anyone allowed to look at you it was Bob, so he should be the one to avert his eyes from you not your sweet and handsome man.

You’d fight god for Bob, he’s telling you not to but your mind is already made up. You must protect your sweet boy who runs extremely warm and is all powerful and invincible, yet you wanted to coddle him to your chest and kiss him senseless and you do. His sweet smile and soft eyes were enough to have you wanting to spend the day giving him as many kisses possible.

Forehead, cheek, nose, lips, eyelids, jaw, chin, neck, behind his ear, everywhere you will kiss this man as he stand awkwardly and giggles cutely. You smother him in affection but not too much to overwhelm him, just enough to have his cheeks flush and him holding onto your waist tightly as if he didn’t want to let go.

Loving Bob was warm, soft, sweet, gentle and kind as your first kiss was one to remember for certain, it’s gentle a little sloppy but it was worth the breathlessness you felt after pulling away from him, seeing his disheveled apparent and bewilderment within his eyes as though he didn’t expect himself to do such a thing, to take charge. You on the other hand wanted him to do it again a million times over for the rest of your shared life.

He treasures everything you give him, whether it’s plushies, they’re on his bed even if they take up half of it. He doesn’t like leaving any out, he holds them all to his chest when he sleeps with a massive smile upon his face, you could give him a bracelet you made and he’s never taking it off. It’s apart of him now forever and each time he touches it, he knows you’re with him wherever you were. He loves having a piece of you with him at all times, a reminder of who’s waiting for him or he’s waiting for every time you come back to the Watchtower from missions.

Bob is there waiting with wide open arms to hold you against him as he breaths you in, happy that you were okay.

Void

The opposite of Bob.

He’s knowing of what he wants and he’ll take it no matter what, he doesn’t care who stands in his way becuase who can take down a god like entirely like him? Absolutely no one.

You are his most precious possession and he’s a selfish dragon hoarding you away from everyone who could want you as much as he does.

Void doesn’t share and he’s not going to start now either, whoever looks at you longingly is now a shadow on a pavement somewhere. He doesn’t care about anything but keeping you all for himself, he’s selfish with you and would hoard all of your time and attention, so much so that you won’t noticed that Void has kept you away from everyone else for the entire day.

You couldn’t see him smile but you could feel that he was whenever you realised that you feel for his trap all the time.

He’s confident in his powers, he’s not concerned with anyone being more powerful than him when he was the pinochle of power itself in shadowy form. A form that can change appearance from time to time but he was perfectly content with his current one for the time being.

it was unassuming and yet still strikes that fear that something was wrong but not in the uncanny valley type of way, but close enough to understand his level of threat that was bubbling underneath.

He’s not afraid to show that you were his, not in the slightest. He’ll show off that you were his however he can with his possessive grabs and reminders that you can’t exactly escape him, for he’ll only follow you until you retuned to his arms like you should.

Got jealous of Bob and wanted whatever he had, he doesn’t like it when people have what he wants, what he desires and craves carnally. So why not just steal you away? It’s not like you minded at all, so what’s the problem?

Void is the one making the first moves, he does it in a way that tells you that this was your reality now, that he was what you should be thinking about constantly and without fail, that he should be the only thing that matters to you and no one else.

His kisses were demanding of attention, demanding you of your devotion and love and affection, things that were all his simply because you were his, his alone to love and be loved by as selfishly as he wanted.

Keeps a close eye on the people you have within your life, if he senses that they were trying to put distance between you and him, then he will rid them however he sees fit, for no one was allowed to come between you and Void at all.

His hold over you was airtight and it was near impossible to escape it as he could appear before you within a blink of an eye as his pinprick eyes stare deeply into your own, he knows where you are without having to try so hard either, he finds it humorous when you do try to escape his gaze, the hunt entertained him greatly as he followed you at a slower pace.

He makes you think you’re somewhat in control, only for the truth to come out as he reminds you that he lets you off with certain things because he loves you and only you. So you should treat him the same by dedicating yourself to him only and no one else, he didn’t care the relationship you had with others, they didn’t matter as much as your relationship with him.

Is into the whole predator/prey thing. Void obviously being the predator and you being the prey each and every time.

Knows your fears so intimately that it shouldn’t come as a surprise if you act out he’ll just trap you in your worst moments until you’ve learned your lesson, but this was a rare punishment because Void was under the belief that you could do no wrong and that it was everyone else trying to poison your mind against him.

There are moments where he acts like a gentleman towards you as he kisses the back of your hand, holding onto it tightly in a way that erased any chances of putting distance between the two of you, has his hands respectfully upon your waist but his grip was almost iron clad and kept you pressed to his chest in a manner that screamed ownership.

Void hordes you like a dragon with its gold, keeping you hidden from all, keeping you in his version of safety and protection, unable to let you go because he didn’t want to let you go and refused to do so. For you were his to have and to hold and to keep, no one else should be granted a glimpse of you at all.

448 notes · View notes