amultislifeforme

[amultislifeforme]

Toji’s shirtless again.

Well. Toji’s always shirtless.

You think he only owns like… three shirts. Two of which are permanently crumpled on a chair somewhere and one he only wears if he absolutely has to go to a convenience store. Even then, he complains. Loudly.

Right now, he’s standing in the middle of the crappy excuse for a kitchen in grey sweats, stretching like he’s not fully aware of how that motion exposes all those tight cords of muscle and his stupid V-line you want to sink your teeth into.

You’re lying upside down on the couch when you ask it.

"Tojiiii~" you whine, kicking your legs up against the wall like a child. You look ridiculous and you know it. “Can you go grab my charger? It's alllll the way in the bedroom, and I’m dying.”

“Use your legs, sugartits, they work”

“They don’t,” you say dramatically, flipping over and crawling off the couch like a ragdoll. “I’m in a fragile emotional state. You wouldn’t understand.”

He lets out a long, exasperated sigh through his nose. “You’re always in a fragile emotional state.”

“But this time it's terminal,” you mutter, flopping onto your stomach and pounding the floor weakly. “Please, Toji. I’ll give you a reward.”

That gets him.

You hear the faint rustle of movement and peek up through your arms. He’s squinting at you, suspicion radiating off him like heat. “What kind of reward?”

You smile like a little shit.

“Come back with it and find out.”

“There. Where’s my goddamn reward?”

You sit up with a pleased grin, coil the wire around your fingers and crook one at him.

“Come here.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“I said, come here, Toji.” You pat the couch between your thighs. “Sit, boy.”

He scowls. “I should’ve left your charger in the toilet.”

But he comes. Grumbling, looming, all six feet of muscle and irritation settling between your legs like it's some kind of punishment.

You reach out with both hands and start gently patting his head. Ruffling his thick black hair, scratching lightly at the nape like he’s something fluffy and manageable. He blinks once. Then twice.

He looks like he wants to toss you off the balcony.

“…The hell is this.”

“Your reward,” you say sweetly. “Look at my good boy doing chores.”

He tenses, as if the words hit a nerve. “Not your damn dog, doll”

“No,” you whisper against his temple, “you’re my big, bad, muscle-y man who still comes crawling for head pats.” You pause. “And other head—”

“Stop” he says flatly, but you can feel the way he’s melting against you.

You grin.

From then on, you swear he starts doing things on purpose.

Takes the trash out. Fixes the leaking tap with a wrench that you’re 96% sure isn’t his.

You watch him with squinty eyes. “You did something.”

He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Just cleaned up a little.”

“Uh-huh.”

He sits next to you. Clears his throat.

You blink.

He tilts his head. “Well? No rewards?”

You smirk and crawl into his lap like a puppy in heat. Run your fingers into his thick black hair, kiss the spot right above his ear.

He scoffs, but you can feel him relax, hands wrapping around your waist. “You’re gonna give me a complex.”

You straddle him, nose to nose. “Only good boys get spoiled like this.”

“…Shut up.”

You boop his nose. “Make me.”

He does, later. With his mouth.

And when he finally lets you go—arms still wrapped around your waist like he forgot how to be separate from you—you bury your face in his neck and murmur, “I love my broke, shirtless king.”

He growls. “Say that again and I’ll leave your ass in the street.”

Later that evening, he kills the cockroach you screamed about. Doesn’t even complain this time.

Doesn’t even speak. Just stands there in front of you, arms crossed.

You squint at him. “What now?”

“My reward” he says simply.

You pat the couch. “Leg’s open, daddy.”

“I swear to God—”

But he’s already walking over. Settles down between your legs like it’s second nature now. You start petting him again, your fingers tangled in his messy black hair.

“Such a good boy,” you whisper. “Good boys get spoiled. You want a kiss, baby?”

His voice is gravel when he replies, “Tch. You call me good boy again and I’ll bend you over this couch.”

You tug his hair gently. “Say please, I've been a gooood boyy, baby.”

He groans, but then—so low it’s almost a threat—he mutters, “Please, I've been a good boy.”

You smile like a devil. Pull his face up and kiss him. Long. Slow. Filthy.

When you pull back, he’s still scowling. But his hands are gripping your waist like you’re something he’ll never give up.

“…You’re such a damn brat” he mutters.

“And you’re such a pettable little babyboy,” you purr. “Look at you, doing chores and everything.”

“You want me to stop?” he asks, cracking his neck.

You kiss his jaw. “Nope.”

You pause. Then whisper like you’re telling a secret, “I’m gonna pet you forever. Even if you hate it.”

“…Fuckin’ menace” he says, hugging you tighter.

[amultislifeforme]

choso is just so desperate during sex. he doesn't have years of knowledge, much less experience, as your previous partners. although by now you've fucked countless times, he can't help but get lost in how your pussy feels soooo gooood.

of course, this is where he finds himself now; thick cock buried in your glittering pussy to the hilt, heavy balls hitting hard against the sensitive spot between the bottom of your slit and the curve of your ass, both of your heads lolled back as he drove his hips into yours in short, uneven strokes. his hips stagger almost as much as the begs and praises stumbling from his pussydrunk mind.

"s-so good– s' t-tight n' wet n' -hah! sh- squeezin' me shoo good" his eyes were torn between your beautiful, blown-out expression and his cream-coated length disappearing into your dripping cunt. "wan- wanna be in you forever-r-r" he sobs, unintentionally punctuating the last word with sloppy thrusts.

his thick hands splay across the meat of your thighs as your knees flop straight, his grip pushing you spread eagle, hips never slowing. he leans forward, the new angle sending waves of pleasure down your spine and making you shake.

he dips his head into the crook of your neck as his cock begins to twitch, orgasm imminent. your broken moans mix with his, the lewd sounds of his thrusts ringing throughout the room.

you feel him throb in you, thrusts getting sloppier as his lips graze against your earlobe. "c-cummminggg– ngh"

"thankyouthankyouthank-kk-youuu" he stammers, cumming hard inside of you.

he collapses on you, breaths short and heavy. his tongue swipes across your neck, kissing and biting the skin as he catches his breath. he pulls out, still half-hard, and slides himself down between your trembling thighs. your eyes meet his, peering up from behind your puffy pussy, his tongue painting hearts on your swollen clit.

batting his dewy eyelashes, he calls out to you in the sweetest voice.

"can i eat her now, baby?"

[amultislifeforme]

suguru loves some soft and lazy sex that still feels intense, like he was thirsting for you, headboard hitting the wall and all.

the best part is that it just happens. he’ll slip a hand under the blanket while you two are lying down and slide your panties to the side. that’s it; that’s all, but it still feels so fucking good you have to sit in it.

your head leans back to rest against his chest or shoulder while he slowly pushes into you repeatedly, softly kissing your neck and whispering how in love with you he is.

“you feel so good.” his breath is warm against your neck, tickling you, and his hands are gripping you tightly.

it gave both of you everything it needed to; you never needed more.

sometimes you’ll even lazily ride him, your forehead resting on his shoulder while he helps guide you, low grunts in your ear, your eyes closed and his half closed.

suguru wouldn’t be lying if he said early morning sex with you wasn’t his favorite; it was something about how wet you were in the morning that turned him on.

it’s like you were begging for him, and he loved it so fucking much. there was no better feeling than touching and teasing you, then hearing you softly moan into the pillow.

neither of you had to perform; it was just skin on skin moving in harmony, humming to each other while feeling good.

“you okay?” his voice is soft and low in your ear while his hand rubs over your side and his chest is pressed against your back.

“mhm.” your eyes were still closed, but your body was feeling everything; it was even more sensitive when you were half awake.

sometimes he'll do a little more and slip under the blanket and get in between your thighs, licking you over slowly and lazily, but not the kind of lazy that didn't put in any effort.

eating pussy is muscle memory for suguru, so it always feels nice, but when he's half awake, it's sweet and intimate; it makes you open your thighs more, his nose pushing into your clit.

it's something about the way he made it unintentionally sloppy; it had your body buzzing with pleasure, and all you had to do was lay there feeling good, and that was suguru's favorite view.

your eyes were closed, but you were still there, your chest rising and falling gently, your toes twitching every few seconds, your soft moans filling the air. it was all so perfect.

[amultislifeforme]

shake it off. (18+ only, mdni.)

summary. sometimes, good things come from bad ideas.

pairing. (idol!)mingyu x f!reader

word count. 2426

cw. daddy kink / mild ddlg (mg refers to himself as dad 2x), cum play and cum eating and just... so much cum... (reader is cum obsessed i'm sorry), degradation if you squint, cnc and false sympathy, pet names (he calls reader princess a lot, size kink also if you squint, throatfucking (reader fucking loves cock in mouf. reader is me.), allusions to being in subspace but i didn't wanna say it explicitly bc it felt too on-the-nose, lots of buildup (sorry)

i am not responsible for the content you consume. proceed with caution.

author's note. uhhh belated happy father's day he is still my dad and i still wanna suck his dick (also heyyyy haha heyyy guys.....pls dont kill me for being gone.......)

this was a bad idea. this was a very bad idea from the very start, and mingyu knew it.

he had some work to be done with bumzu today. he knew he had to be locked in, focused 101% on his work, but the past few days without you had been hellish. between busy schedules and video calls that just wouldn’t cut it, he knew needed to see you, hold you, hear your voice.

so, against his better judgement, he insisted on having you over at his studio. 

“…oppa, are you sure?” you had asked him when he called you up to tell you to come over. 

“baby, please?” he pleaded, and you could hear the pout in his voice. he’d rambled something about missing you more than anything, about not seeing you felt like eternal damnation (entirely an exaggeration), and that it was now or never again (realistically, just few months give or take, but mingyu is dramatic).

“i’ll pay for your ride— or i’ll ask someone to pick you up. or i’ll go pick you up myself right now,” he rattled on in one breath, “just— please? i miss you.”

and against your better judgment as well, you agreed and you were out of your apartment in no more than ten minutes. 

it was fine at first. 

as you walked into mingyu’s studio, you were immediately greeted by this six-foot-something man’s buff arms wrapping around your body, lifting you up and hugging you tight, before you could even drop your bag.

“my baby,” mingyu cooed into your neck possessively with a yearning so intense you’d think it’s been years since he last saw you, “my angel. my princess. missed you so fucking much.”

and you smiled and nuzzled into his neck, “my big baby. missed you too.”

after a soft makeout laced with heavy pining by the door, he kissed your forehead and let you settle onto the couch as he sat back on his chair to finish writing his lyrics as some music played softly in the background. 

he got bored quickly. and you watched with fondness as he played with instagram filters to pass time while waiting. 

then his song came on. 

he turned on his camera, and as he started dancing in his chair, vibing to every beat of his song, your eyes darkened with hunger and heat pooled in the pit of your stomach. the minute he stopped recording, you found yourself rising from the couch and crawling to fill the space between his knees.

“oh?” mingyu tips his head down to peer at you past his shades before taking off the pair and setting it aside. you bite back the smile creeping onto your lips and rest your cheek against his thigh. 

“hi,” you whisper, a little too innocently for the fact that you’re on your knees between his thighs. instinctually, mingyu’s hand combs through your hair, scratching slightly at the base of your neck as he smiles down at you. you hum, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. 

“hi, princess. what’re you doing, hm?” 

“y’so handsome,” you mumble, words slurring into each other. “wan’ you.”

mingyu can tell that your headspace is already starting to slip. 

despite all the time he’s been with you, he still can’t believe how strong of an effect you have on each other. he can already feel himself hardening in his jeans, and judging by the haze behind your eyes, he knows you’re craving to have his cock shoved down your throat. 

your gaze drops to his growing bulge and your shy hands come up to fiddle with the button. 

“can i…?” you ask him quietly, looking up at him with those doe eyes he can never seem to resist. 

with a smile, he rises to his feet and takes the initiative to pop open the button himself. he frees himself of his jeans and briefs in one go, fabric pooling by his ankles and belt landing onto the ground with a soft clink! 

he grasps himself by the base and pumps, slowly but firmly, getting himself fully hard as he sits back down. your eyes never leave him, transfixed. just about hypnotized. you don’t even notice yourself lick and bite your lip, or that your eyes are now half hooded as you watche him. 

mingyu smiles, proud. “cockdrunk already, love? i haven’t even given you my cock yet.” 

and you just whine at his teasing. you settle between his legs again, cheek pressing against his now bare thigh. “gimme,” you pout with an impatient huff. “please?”

his fingers thread through your hair and he tugs. you let him. with the grip in your hair, he pulls your head closer to his thick cock and your jaw drops open automatically, sticking your tongue out as if to reach for him. then when the tip taps against your wet tongue, you latch onto him, lips snug around the head, tongue perfectly wrapped around it. 

you moan in pleasure. in happiness. in utter bliss. like latched onto his cock is where you’re meant to be. (you’re convinced that it is.)

“how d’you want daddy, hm?” he asks through heavier and heavier breaths as he slowly but surely pushes your head down onto him until your nose is pressing into his skin. 

he knows you can’t answer with a mouthful of cock so he continues. “jus’ wanna play?” 

you nod, as much as you can with a mouthful of cock. mingyu lets go of the grip in your hair and scratches at your scalp again in affection, warm, tender smile splayed on his lips. 

on his go ahead, princess, you slowly start to bob your head up and down, steadily fucking your throat onto his cock. you try to savor the feeling of his fat cock sliding in and out of your throat, but you can’t help but gag a few times too many.

the sound is music to mingyu’s ears though, only making him harder with each wet, creamy sound as your throat constricts around him. spit pools around your lips, gathering around the base of his cock and dripping down his balls. 

then you lift yourself up and off his cock to take a breath. your hand wraps around the base and you start pumping firmly. then your lips wrap around the head again. you swirl your tongue around the tip and lap against the slit, drinking up every drop of pre-cum that leaks out. 

every movement, every stroke of your tongue makes mingyu’s groans grow louder. it’s taking everything in him to keep himself from forcing his cock down your throat and using you as a toy. all you want is to play with daddy’s cock, and what his baby wants, you always get. 

you kiss and lick and suck on just the tip, while your hand stays busy pumping the length of him. your other hand comes up to massage his balls and it’s in that moment that mingyu thinks he’s about to lose his mind. 

“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, baby—” his deep groans morph into high, begging whines that shoot heat straight to your core. at this point, you want nothing more than to have him cum on your tongue, to savor the bitter taste of his seed that you’re convinced you’re almost addicted to. 

you let go of the tip only to kiss down his length until you reach his heavy, dare he say neglected balls. without thinking twice, you lap at his balls. your gaze is fixed onto him, watching his expression through dewy eyes. the way his brows furrow, the way his chest rises and falls as he keeps himself from cumming too soon, the way his jaw drops open and the yummiest sounds spill from his parted lips. 

when you suck one of his balls into your mouth, he decides he can’t take it anymore. his hand laces through your hair again and he pulls you off of him as he rises to his feet. you stumble back, mingyu’s grip being the only thing holding you up. 

“m’sorry, baby,” he apologizes, but not in any actual guilt. it’s that patronizing, faux-concerned tone only leaves you wanting him more. 

you smile and giggle as he handles you roughly into position: on the floor with your legs in a W, sitting snugly between his thighs.

he pushes himself into your mouth again in one swift move and breaks past the back of your throat, not giving you even a single moment of respite. you gag against him but he keeps pushing anyway until he’s buried completely. his grip loosens only to cradle the back of your head to keep you in place as he starts to rock his hips into your hot mouth.

“i’m sorry, baby, i know,” he coos again in false sympathy as if trying to soothe your struggle, hips rutting into your mouth.

bubbles of spit form on the corners of your lips. you gag again, the sound wet and miserable and delicious all the same. “m’sorry. daddy’s sorry. jus’ need you so bad” 

you whimper. in strife. in desire. in need. mingyu’s thrusts turn brutal but you love it— live for it. you choke around his cock. you can barely breathe. your vision is blurred with tears from all the gagging, cheeks and chin stained with a mixture of spit and tears. but you know there’s no where else you’d rather be.

when his hips start stuttering, you know he’s close. you lock gazes, and in an instant, mingyu understands what his baby wants— no, needs. 

“want dad’s cum? hm, princess?” he asks through shallow breaths and heavy moans. 

you moan and look at him as pleadingly as you can to signal your desire. the grin on his lips is lopsided and proud because he knows he did this to you. because only he can do this to you.

he pulls you off him just a little bit, keeping the tip in your mouth. then with his other hand gripping firmly around the base of his cock, he spills into your mouth, warm ropes of thick, white cum vandalizing your tongue.

he doesn’t let you swallow yet. the hand in your hair moves to grip your chin as his still-hard cock slips out of your mouth. 

“show me,” he says and pushes his fingers into your cheeks and between your teeth get you to open your mouth. your tongue curls at the edges slightly as you show him, being careful not to spill.

he leans forward, then drips a thick wad of spit into the pool of cum in your mouth. you can only moan in need, pussy clenching and thighs pressing together. mingyu dips his thumb into the puddle and mixes his spit and cum together, still smirking down at you. he taps the pad of his digit against your tongue to watch the way the disgusting mix stretches and splashes in your mouth. you want to swallow all of it down so bad and he knows it. 

but he isn’t done with you yet. 

so he lets go of your chin and slips into your mouth again, using the cum and spit as lubrication as he fucks your tight, warm throat all over again, just as ruthlessly as earlier, if not more. 

the spit and cum spill from your mouth and drip down your chin with every deep thrust, and you cry. not because it hurts— god, no. but because you feel like you’re wasting all of his precious seed. you want to swallow his cum so badly, to feel that warmth fill your mouth and bloom in your throat. 

the grip in your hair returns shortly. without warning, mingyu thrusts into your hot mouth just as he slams your head onto his cock. your nose presses into into his pubic bone, balls warm against your chin, and then—

“fuck—” he whimpers with a cry of your name. “cumming— dad’s cumming. m’cumming.” 

you finally feel that blooming warmth of his cum shooting down your throat, load after load, just like you wanted. 

he stills, spilling seemingly endlessly into your mouth and down your throat but you’re not complaining. he cums so hard and so much that it overflows from the corners of your lips and spills out of your little mouth despite your best efforts to swallow every load. he keeps himself buried snugly in your throat until he’s spent and his balls are empty.

when he pulls out of your mouth, his cock is limp and soft. your mouth and chin are soaked and stained by his cum, but still, you look up at him with stars in your eyes, lovestruck and dumb, as if he wasn’t just balls-deep in your mouth. 

he chuckles at the sight, heart warm with tender love and adoration despite it all. you’re a little wobbly as he helps you onto your feet before falling back down onto his chair, strong hands pulling you along and you land on his lap. (he’ll have to wipe this chair clean in a little while — thank god it’s leather.) 

“happy baby?” he asks with a fucked out, dazed smile. you nod and lick your lips to lap up what you can.

“mhm. yummy,” you say in that innocent tone again with a nod.

mingyu can’t help but giggle at you. he cups your cheek gently then scoops up some of the cum dripping down your chin with his thumb. he pushes the digit into your mouth and you happily suck it clean.

“let’s get cleaned up, yeah?” he says. you both rise from the seat and he kisses your forehead affectionately. 

he wipes himself clean with some baby wipes first, then tucks himself back into his briefs and zips his jeans back up. then it’s your turn and he carefully wipes your face clean, all while showering you in praises. pretty girl. did so good. my beautiful, beautiful princess. i love you. 

the air purifier is switched on, the chair wiped down with a disinfecting wipe, and the air is sprayed with a little fresh linen room spray from his favourite brand. 

he helps you drink some water and dresses you in the oversized hoodie he had worn on the way. you two cuddle on the couch in comfortable silence, your head slotted in the curve of his neck. his hands caress your side while you trace patterns on his chest. your heartbeats and breaths sync, and soon enough, you’re out like a light in the comfort of his arms. 

[amultislifeforme]

gojo satoru was spoiled, sure. but he wasn’t used to being cared for.

he had people who answered to him. people who revered him, feared him, respected him. his clan, his school, his students. everything he wanted, he could have. everything he needed, someone got for him.

but then there was you.

you, who didn’t flinch when he joked too loudly or smiled too wide. you, who didn’t tiptoe around his legacy like it was made of glass. you, who leaned into him instead of away, who called him “satoru” like he was just a man, not the strongest.

and when you touched him, it wasn’t reverent or worshipful or like you owed him anything. it was simple. kind. natural.

like reaching to fix his collar on a windy morning.

like putting his favorite tea on the stove before he even asked.

like dragging him to bed when he passed out on the couch, glasses skewed, mouth slightly open.

“come on,” you’d mutter, soft but firm, “sleep properly, sato.”

and he’d blink up at you, half-lidded and drowsy, and feel something sweet settle in his chest.

you didn’t do these things because he asked. you didn’t do them because he was gojo satoru. you just… cared.

it rattled something in him.

once, you made him lunch and packed it for him in a neat little box. he opened it during a break at jujutsu tech, laughing at a text from you about something dumb his students did.

inside, there was his favorite food. a little sticky note with a doodle. a stupid pun you’d written.

don’t fight anyone on an empty stomach!!

he sat there, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, and just stared.

he thought about how no one had ever done that before. not like this. not with that silly, mindless affection. not because they wanted to make his day better.

and that night, when he came home, he found you on the couch in your pajamas, phone in hand, hair messy from the way you curled up against the cushions.

he walked over without saying a word, dropped to his knees in front of you, and laid his head in your lap.

you blinked down at him. “…long day?”

he nodded, face pressed against your stomach, arms winding around your waist.

“thank you,” he mumbled.

you snorted. “for what?”

he didn’t answer. just closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of your laundry detergent, your skin, your home.

he’d always had everything he could ask for. but until you, he didn’t know what it meant to be loved for nothing. for free.

and god, did it make him want to give you the world.

tori’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ i love satoru 😔

[amultislifeforme]

synopsis ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ you talk about your husband like he is a dream and, frankly, your coworkers think that you are making him up. that is until your husband shows up.

you talked about your husband all the time.

nanami this nanami that

“oh, my husband makes the best lunchboxes”

“he stayed up to help me with my report”

“he walks me to the station when i stay late”

you weren’t annoying about it. not really. just a little too consistent. always saying things like “he’ll pick me up after work today, we’re going to get pastries!” and showing off texts that made your coworkers tilt their heads and squint.

kento nanami sounded fake.

a little too nice. a little too attentive.

and when you tacked on the fact that he was hot — “blond, tall, glasses, kinda quiet but really handsome, you know?” — people at work started to think that maybe you were pulling everyone’s leg.

just a little.

not out of malice — no, never that — but maybe you were lonely. maybe you just needed a sweet little fantasy to get you through the day. who could blame you?

because no way someone like nanami existed. not the way you described him. it just didn’t sound real. not in this world. not in this economy.

but you never let up.

you beamed like a lovesick fool when your phone lit up with his name. you refused to make afterwork plans on fridays because that was “friday pasta night with kento.” you sighed wistfully every time someone so much as mentioned a bakery and then whispered, “kento always remembers my favorite,” like you were in some fairytale.

you weren’t smug about it either. it was just… relentless. like you were trying to manifest it into reality.

and maybe it would’ve stayed harmless water cooler gossip — “hey, what do you think her husband actually looks like?” or “maybe it’s just her roommate who makes all the food?” — if you hadn’t mentioned that he’d be picking you up from work one day soon.

“he’s on leave,” you’d said, head bent over a spreadsheet, smiling to yourself. “wants to take me out for dinner. he’ll be here early. maybe you’ll see him.”

you said it innocently. with that dreamy lilt you always got when his name was on your tongue.

but that set off everyone.

bets were placed. theories floated. some said he’d never show. others swore they’d catch you whispering to your reflection in the hallway like a crazy person. one guy from accounting said he saw you with a facetime open to a picture of a k-pop idol and he swore it was nanami. it was all harmless. mostly.

people just didn’t believe it.

until the elevator doors slid open.

and nanami stepped out.

he wore a tan wool coat, fitted slacks, button-up half undone at the throat — all that fine-tuned, elegant masculinity that seemed sculpted into place. hair slicked back, wristwatch glinting, and an expression that was all quiet restraint, the kind that turned heads on instinct.

and his eyes — sharp, deep, familiar — scanned the room once, then softened the moment he saw you.

“you ready, sweetheart?” he asked.

your coworkers went silent.

someone dropped their pen.

you lit up instantly. grinned, grabbed your bag, waved at everyone with a cheery, “see you tomorrow!” like this wasn’t the most monumental moment of vindication in the history of your office.

nanami took your coat from you before you even shrugged it off fully. guided you with a hand on the small of your back. leaned in and brushed a kiss to your temple so naturally that your coworker audibly gasped.

he glanced up then. noticed the sea of frozen faces.

“good evening,” he said politely, like he didn’t just obliterate the collective doubt of your entire floor with one gentle peck.

you left with him. smiling, chatting, looping your arm through his as he opened the door and held it for you.

and behind you — a stunned, stunned silence.

“…so,” someone whispered, finally. “that was nanami?”

“the nanami?” another croaked.

“that man’s real?”

“she wasn’t even exaggerating,” came the hollow, awe-struck reply. “she was under-selling him.”

and in the elevator, nanami turned to you and smiled, faint but amused. “you were right,” he murmured, “they really didn’t believe i existed.”

you snorted and leaned into his side. “i told you. now they’ll think i made you in a lab.”

“i wouldn’t be bothered by that,” he said, tugging you closer, kissing your knuckles as the doors closed. “you did a perfect job, if so.”

[amultislifeforme]

Kento Nanami x Reader

OlderBoyfriend! Kento Nanami, posted on his instagram??..

you’d recently taught your older boyfriend, Kento, how to use Instagram so you could tag him in posts and stories of the two of you. But you never expected him to eventually engage in posting online, so it was a surprise when you refreshed your feed, only to find a short video of your boyfriend lifting weights at his gym, with an ancient heavy metal song overlapping the background noise he didn’t mute.

And lord behold, he has over fifty thousand likes on all his posts, equaling up to four. Four singular posts. And he's already on top-charts of instagram, without hashtags, and only one previous follower, you.

You currently were sitting in the living room of the shared apartment you'd bought with him a while back, sliding off the couch and walking to the bathroom where he was showering, since he'd just got home from the just mentioned gym.

You knock on the bathroom door, before walking into the steam filled room, shower running and fan on. “Baby.” you say, pulling the curtain aside, staring at him.

Kento wipes his face of water and turns to you, a small concerned frown on his face as he sees your odd expression, “sweetheart, are you alright?” he says quickly, turning the knobs of the shower to stop the water.

You held up your phone that was displaying his page, “you didn't tell me you started posting videos?” you say, legs shifting slightly as you spoke, and of course, he noticed.

He grabs his towel and wraps it around his waist, stepping out and taking the phone out of your hand and putting it down on the countertop softly, pulling you into a small embrace, looking down at you, “is that the matter, darling?” he mumbles, kissing the top of your head, “I’ll delete them if you'd like, i just thought other men would like to see the process-”

You stop him, placing your fingers to squish his lips together, “I’m just surprised you didn't tell me, that's all, I’m not mad.” you say quietly, “but I do want you to put my username in your bio.” you finish, kissing his cheek and letting him go.

He blanked for a moment, a brow lifting.

“Sweetheart, What's a ‘bio’?”

© all works belong to chikithree. do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[amultislifeforme]

husband!nanami preemptively budgeting for your unborn baby

on the morning after your second positive test, your husband’s standing hunched over the kitchen table—he’d left bed quietly, with the soft deliberation he applied to most things in life. in front of him sits a mug of untouched coffee gone tepid. a yellow legal pad: column after column of figures in tidy script, annotated with 0.5 uni ball pen.

you hover in the doorway a moment, admiring his profile: barefoot in his slacks, hair slightly mussed. he doesn’t hear you until you shift your weight, floorboard creaking underfoot.

“seven weeks,” you say, by way of greeting.

“approximately,” his gaze drops back to the paper. “which, optimistically, gives us about seven months to account for the first year’s expenses.”

“did you know,” he murmurs, “the average cost of a child’s first year is nearly two million yen? that doesn’t include school fees. or medical insurance. or college tuition.”

you step closer, skimming the columns. food, childcare, emergency savings, medical contingencies. even a line labeled ‘adjusted parental leave income.’

“this one here,” he says, tapping his pen against a neat cell, “is a preliminary projection for an international preschool program. in the event we don’t stay in tokyo. though it’s still early.”

you blink. “ken. our child is the size of a blueberry.”

“irrelevant at this stage. what matters is equity of access.”

you fold yourself into the space between his chair and the table, arms looped around his neck, cheek pressed against his temple. his pen halts midstroke.

“i’m not worried,” he adds finally. “i just want to plan ahead. i don’t want you—or them—to ever need anything.”

you kiss the top of his head. “you’re gonna be a great dad.”

he hums, then under his breath, “do you think two air purifiers would be too much?”

[amultislifeforme]

MDNI 18+

gojo satoru almost never removes his blindfold.

not during missions, not to sleep. not even when you’re beneath him like this, panting into his mouth. he usually keeps it on—spares him the headache. you’ve never minded, though. his presence alone compensates for what he keeps hidden.

but tonight, something makes him pause mid-thrust.

he stills, breath shallow. two fingers hook beneath the edge of the fabric. with one slow pull, he slides it down. it hangs around his neck now. what’s revealed steals away your breath.

his eyes are otherworldly.

not just electric—opalescent, almost volatile in their beauty. platinum bled to cobalt, cold fire beneath a lattice of lashes so pale and translucent they catch light like spun sugar, long enough to kiss his cheekbones when he blinks. too beautiful to be real. too unreal not to be divine.

you reach up, brushing a lock of silver hair from his damp forehead, fingers grazing the corner of one crystalline eye. his lashes flutter—languid, indulgent, unbearably fond.

“you like?” his grin tilts crooked. boyish and smug. words simply fail you, so you nod. the motion cause you to tighten around him. he exhales sharply, nearly chokes on a groan.

“careful,” gojo mutters, sinking deeper into you. “you keep lookin’ at me like that, i’ll embarrass myself.”

your legs cinch around his waist, and the next breath he lets out is shaky. there’s colour high on his cheeks now—pink cresting beneath damp silver hair, reaching the delicate points of his ears. his gaze lingers on your face, then dips to the bounce of your breasts as he thrusts again.

“told you i was pretty.”

[amultislifeforme]

jeonghan + 13 juseyo 🙏

jeonghan + hiding in their partner’s chest when they’re scared

warnings: horror movie, jeonghan is a heavy tease in this an: i love my jeonghan sm… if you do too, pls read his 10th anniversary fic i wrote !!! it’s called too much !!! and read the dk one, journey mercies, while you’re at it 😙

“hannie, why would you pick this movie?” you whine, hugging your knees to your chest.

he laughs, “what, are you scared? i thought you’d like it..”

you turn to him, a cutely (in his opinion) angry expression on his face as you punch him in the shoulder. “no! it’s creepy! i thought when you said, ‘hey baby let’s have a movie night!’ you were gonna get a bunch of yummy snacks and we were gonna watch something funny! i hate this!”

as soon as you’re done speaking the tv screen flashes, a large jumpscare happening, and you can’t even try hiding the flinch that shakes your body, nearly lifting you from your seat on the couch. jeonghan starts cackling, nearly doubled over in amusement at your terror.

he settles down and leans in close, face millimeters away from yours, “if you’re scared, angel, i’m right here. it’s okay, hannie will protect you..” he’s very obviously teasing, voice sing-song. suddenly his attention returns to the movie and he starts smirking, “oh no, baby, watch out, i think something’s about to happen..”

immediately you’re hiding your face in your hands, shrinking into yourself more and more as the suspenseful music fills the room. he’s right, because the sound of screaming comes right after, and you all but fall into him in fear, hiding your face in his shoulder. he laughs, pulling you in and rubbing his hand against your arm.

“aww, see? i told you i’d hold you if you got scared.. now, hm, i think i want to watch something happier…”

now that he’s exited out of the movie, you’re sure that this whole thing was just a ploy to get you in his arms without having to ask or make a move.

1 to 13 🏷️ @markkiatocafe @ateez-atiny380

[amultislifeforme]

18+ only. minors, do not interact!

cw. d/s dynamics with daddy!gyu (who woulda thought) and super subby reader who loves being praised, a bit of ass play (sorry not sorry), free use, cnc (though im not sure if this counts... but i'll put it here anyway), hole inspections <3 possessive & pussy obsessed daddy ;c, idk i might have missed some other stuff…, barely proofread hehe author’s note. found this buried in my notes. it was halfway done. fueled by a shitty latte i bought at uni and reaching 400 followers, decided to finish it ! ^_^

happy 400 followers!

can’t get my mind off of hole inspections with mingyu :’)

him picking you up or bending you over at random points of the day, you don’t even bother wearing underwear around him anymore because he does it so often.

cuddling in bed with him and he’s suddenly pushing you onto your back without warning, big hand riding up your tummy to push his shirt that you’re wearing out of the way as his other hand cups over your sex— and as if on instinct, you’re parting your legs for him with a soft, almost pleased puff.

he parts your thighs and pushes them to your chest (and you like pretending to fight against him because you love when he’s rough on you— but he knows). whining in ‘protest’ with your cheeks all warm and flushed because it’s embarrassing just as much as it turns you on.

him shushing you as he holds your thighs open with ease because he’s just so much bigger and stronger than you, “jus’ wanna see, princess.”

his fingers running along your slit, getting slicker with each stoke, gaze fixed on your cunt that’s starting to drool more and more as he continues to run his fingers along your entrance.

“daddy—” you whine despite the way your pussy gushes as he gives a light kiss to your clit. “it’s embarrassing.”

“embarrassing?” he echoes questioningly, voice teasing, as he thumbs at your clit and kisses over your puckered hole this time, lips brushing over it as he speaks. “s’normal, baby. don’t be embarrassed.”

him smirking when he pulls back and watches the way your cunt clenches around nothing— he knows you’re craving to be filled. then his thumb is prodding at your asshole, threatening to dip in, and all you can do is bury your face in your arms and whimper.

“daddy—” you whine, dragging out the a.

“shush,” he tuts. “be good. these are daddy’s, remember?”

so you do just that because you’re mingyu’s good girl and crave praise at all times.

you never really know what to expect when he does his inspections because sometimes it leads to him fingering you and eating you out until you’re spent and maybe a little overstimulated, and other times he just gives you a little kiss, a little praise, and he’s done. gathers you back up in his arms, cuddles and kisses you so sweetly and tenderly, nevermind the ache between your thighs, until you forget he was even playing with your holes in the first place.

sometimes, though, it leads to him sinking his big cock into you and filling you up real good. so good that once he’s done, you’re filled up all the way to the brim and you’re leaking with his warm, sticky cum.

and when that happens? sometimes he tsks and pushes three fingers past your sticky folds to push his cum back into you. sometimes he eats it out of you— which is really just his excuse to go down on you and overstimulate you to hell. but sometimes he just likes to watch it spill out and even takes videos of it on his phone to save for later, him teasing you “y’so messy, baby. hm? my messy little girl.”

it really just depends on his mood for the day— which makes it even more exciting because it’s like playing the monty hall puzzle except behind all of the doors are prizes, no punishments. because one of the perks of being the love of mingyu’s life is him spoiling you rotten in all the ways he can.

[amultislifeforme]

18+ only. minors dni.

cw. barely proofread!, daddy!gyu (ARE WE SURPRISED ATP), super fucking submissive f!reader who is much smaller than gyu and also calls him daddy outside of sex, possessive!gyu, creampies :3 (just stay protected alright????), hint at reader enjoying being defiled by her big buff daddy!, fingering, overstimulation, tbh kind of hints at mindbreaking, spittin in da mouf <3, fingers in da mouf <3, so much cum… why is there so much cum……., AFTERCARE CAUSE THAT SHIT IS SO SEXY, mentions of sub and dom drop!

author’s note. AAAAAAH THE VOICES (this is filth. it’s FILTH. IT’S SO MUCH FILTH PROCEED WITH CAUTION I THINK ‼️)

listen. lazy, sloppy makeouts with mingyu as he fingers you. :’)

his back against the headboard as you sit prettily on his lap. one hand on your waist, pads of his fingers pressing into your flushed skin, the other hand on your heat, two thick digits pumping into you much too slow for your liking.

you whining when he pulls even the tiniest bit away. him mumbling against your lips slick with his spit from kissing you so much. his voice dripping with faux sympathy as if he isn’t fully aware of the effect he has on you.

“aww, baby. y’so wet. all this for me?” with a hint of teasing as he smears your wetness over your pussy lips and puffy clit before dipping his fingers back into you again then adding another.

and you can’t even respond because your mind is all fuzzy from kissing him, too dazed from his fingers curling again and again into that spot inside you. panting, whimpering into his mouth, wanting to beg for more but the words die on your tongue as he presses into your g-spot again and grinds the heel of his palm against your poor, sensitive clit.

him being so gentle with you when he’s usually rough (not that you’re complaining) because he wants to take his time ravishing you completely, unravel you slowly and surely until you’re putty in his hands, obedient and pliant to his every will.

“you’re so good for me, baby,” he’d praise against your lips. “so good for daddy. you’re daddy’s best girl, yeah?”

and you whine something that sounds like ‘yeah,’ mind too foggy to actually form anything coherent, because you are his good girl. always.

you whining when he pulls away from the kiss and withdraws his fingers, and his eyes sparkle at the sight of you, lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed, eyes unfocused and irises blown out as you look at him dumbly. it’s empty behind your eyes cause all you can think of is him. he thinks you’re the prettiest when you’re like this.

“open, pretty.”

his thumb pressing down on your chin to open your mouth, then him gathering spit in his mouth and dripping it thickly onto your tongue. he slips his fingers past your lips too quick for your hazy, dumb mind to comprehend, and you taste yourself on his digits as he massages your tongue.

lazy makeouts with mingyu that lead to lazy sex that leads to messy, desperate, whiny sex. leads to him fucking load after load after load after load into you, sticky, creamy ring of white forming at the base of his thick cock as he keeps going. fucks you so much and so good that your body goes limp and all you can think about is his fat cock ramming into your sore, worn out cunt, your vocabulary reduced to pathetic whimpers of ‘daddy’ and nothing else.

“ngh— fuck—” as he cums inside you yet again, his eyes squeezed shut. rambling praises as his gaze fixates on him ramming into your tight, creamy pussy that’s almost too small for his fat cock (you are small but he’s just trained you enough to take all of him). his cum is so sticky, stretching with each time he pulls back, and your poor cunt is a mess, covered in and leaking with his cum. the sight is vulgar, but he loves it— lives for it. and he knows if you could see yourself, you’d love it too.

“fuckin’ hell, princess— love this little pussy so much. all for me, yeah? all mine. daddy’s little pussy to play with. tight, little cunt was made for me. god, i love you— love you so fucking much.”

he ends up overstimulating the both of you to tears, both of you whimpering at the mix of pain and pleasure, because when it comes to you? he just can’t get enough.

(the aftercare he gives you is phenomenal. cleans you up real good. carries you to the bathroom and helps you wash yourself up. rubs soap all over your body and shampoos/conditions your hair for you. picks out your pajamas and once you’re in bed, he holds you close, kisses you tenderly, praises you again and again and again as he patiently guides you down from your high.

“love you, baby. you did so good for me. m’so proud of you. i love you so fucking much. you’re always so good for me. my girl. thank you.”

and you, of course, return the favour. praising him and thanking him for treating you so well, for taking care of you, for being the best boyfriend anyone could ever ask for.

“thank you, daddy,” as you peck his lips over and over, his cheeks in your small hands, “love you, daddy.”

he giggles at your cuteness despite the fatigue coursing through his body and his eyes threatening to close, lets you praise him and kiss him as you pleased, until you’re satisfied and sure he won’t drop.

“i love you. i love you. i love you,” and kissing him each time in between. “thank you for loving me.”

cuddles until both fall asleep, then even more kisses and cuddles in the morning, breaths in sync as his heartbeat rings in your ears. neither of you care that it’s nearly 4pm and you’re still in bed— all that matters is him and you.)

[amultislifeforme]

something to do with baths and dad gyu is so lovely

bath time. (18+ only, mdni)

summary. mingyu takes care of you after a long day.

pairing. mingyu x f!reader (reader notes. smaller than gyu. she also kinda neurodivergent but can be read as just introverted)

genre. fluff! but marked as +18 bc dadbf!gyu

word count. 675

author’s note. i wrote this at 2am when i was supposed to be asleep

you had a long day. both of you did. you had gone from one event to the next— late lunch with seungkwan and vernon followed by a movie, then gym with his trainer and woozi, and finally, dinner (also with woozi and his trainer).

you had loads of fun— you always do when you’re with mingyu. but while your hunk of a boyfriend is extroverted and easy-going and sociable, you’re a lot more reserved and social interactions drain you.

and mingyu knows this because of course he would.

so the minute you get home, he takes your bag, runs you a bath, and promises homemade hot chocolate and kisses before bed.

mingyu has his arms wrapped around your middle as you lay against him in the warmth of the bathtub. you sit between his legs, back pressed to his chest and head resting in the curve that connects his shoulder to his neck.

neither of you speak.

the bathroom is silent, but safe. comfortable. he knows you need a little quiet to decompress from an entire day’s worth of just being. bubbles float around you in clusters that look like fluffy clouds and you play with it gently, stuck in your own world.

the water is warm, maybe a little on the hotter side, but to the both of you, it’s just right.

“love you, daddy,” you say breaking the silence with a soft, contented sigh as you melt into mingyu.

he smiles as he hears your voice. he takes it as a cue that you’ve come down from your inner world and you’re ready to talk again.

“love you more,” he replies with a kiss to the side of your head. “how you feelin’, baby?”

“tired. but happy. you?”

“happy that you’re happy.” he kisses your shoulder. “think i overbooked us today. sorry, love.”

you smile at his words. he’s always been so attentive to your needs. you hands drop to caress his thighs affectionately. not to initiate anything, but just to touch him.

“s’okay, daddy. i probably needed today too. y’know— for enrichment.”

he chuckles and nods like he’s convinced. “for enrichment. like a cat.”

“well, you do call me kitty sometimes—”

“OKAY—! yup, she’s awake. baby is awake.”

“daddy, you got me a collar—”

“do you want me to get hard right now, baby? i thought you were tired?”

you laugh at him. he laughs too and the sound is music to your ears. he tightens his grip around your midsection and buries his face into into the side of your neck. he squishes you and nuzzles against your shoulder, trying to get rid of the cuteness aggression rushing through his body because god, you are a menace but you’re adorable all the same.

“i mean… i’m jus’ sayin,” you trail off once his laughter has died down.

“shush.”

he ushers you out of the bath when the water turns cold and he notices the skin on your fingers are starting to wrinkle. then he picks out matching pajamas, dries your hair for you, and when both of you are done with your night time routines, you make him the best homemade hot chocolate he swears he’s ever had in his entire fucking life. you giggle and kiss away the chocolate milk mustache over his top lip.

you sit on the couch, pressed up against mingyu’s side with your head on his shoulder, hot chocolate turning cold on the coffee table in front of you. you sit in silence again, the netflix in the background merely white noise to the both of you now.

it doesn’t take long before you doze off, too tired from the day to stay awake. he scoops you up in his arms, carries you back to your shared bedroom, and tucks you in under the covers. then he slips in next to you underneath the blanket and cradles you in his arms.

“g’night, baby. sleep well,” he tells you, even though he knows you’re already fast asleep. with one last kiss to your forehead, he closes his eyes.

[amultislifeforme]

u and coups getting back to the hotel room after he has a concert and u basically pouncing on him as soon as the door closes and pulling him onto the bed <333 i feel like he would love when you get like rough

“baby, wait i haven’t even showered yet-“

“that’s why hotel rooms have two beds,” you counter, pulling him to the one you hadn’t yet slept in.

he raises an eyebrow at you. “what, that’s not-”

you put a finger to his lips and shush him with your free hand, using the grip you have on his shirt to continue dragging him towards the bed.

he laughs when you throw yourself backwards onto the mattress and yank him with you. he barely catches himself in time, hovering over you just inches out of reach.

“c’mon, baby. i’m all sweaty and gross.”

“i don’t care.”

you’re treated to another eyebrow raise as he appraises you, his eyes searching your own. “what’s gotten into you?”

“you, hopefully.”

seungcheol snorts and rolls his eyes in disbelief. “you really don’t want to wait?”

you shake your head. “i want you now.”

“we could take this to the shower,” he suggests.

“we could… after you fuck me like this.”

he sucks in a breath, his resolve visibly slipping away as you slide your fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and pull him flush against you. “god, you’re… making this really hard.”

“i can feel that.”

“you know what i meant, you little-”

you let go of his pants and run one of your hands through his hair that’s still damp with sweat. you wind the longer strands around your fingers, pulling until he hisses through his teeth.

“you really want me like this, huh?”

“you know i do. i always do.”

“you like seeing me on stage that much?”

“of course,” you say, “i love watching you perform. but more importantly, i love knowing that as soon as you’re done giving yourself to the crowd, you’re all mine.”

[amultislifeforme]

xinganhao 🌟 shared a moment with you: "have you ever tried this one?" 🔞

the one where ot13 answers what's your favorite juno position? mdni; suggestive themes. dedicated to @wonustars, who has matched my freak. #daserv 🙂‍↕️

[amultislifeforme]

"are you okay?", you ask hansol, as he groans once again.

"my lips", he says in a funny way, as he applies lip balm. "the cold weather is cracking them up, it hurts a bit."

you hum, nodding to his words. hansol sighs, carefully pressing his lips together and putting his lip balm back in his pocket. he yelps when he feels you grabbing his neck, but happily sighs again when you kiss him, the softest, warmest peck ever being laid on his lips.

when you pull back, he smiles. "they're still hurting, can you do it again?"

have you considered tipping me? | ko-fi 🍒

a/n: i hate the cold, please bring back my sunny, warm days.

[amultislifeforme]

Cheol with reader in his shirt riding him and him constantly raising the shirt up with his palm on readers tummy... i am not okay

“you were aching for it, weren’t you?”

all you can do is nod as seungcheol’s fingers creep beneath the hem of his t-shirt you’re wearing.

“is that why you put this on?” he asks, laying his palm flat against your tummy to keep you from going any faster. it’s gentle, not enough to really stop you, but you know better. “wanted me to come home and find you in my shirt so i’d fuck you the moment i laid my eyes on you? you just knew i wouldn’t be able to help myself?”

“i was h-hoping that’d be the outcome,” you stutter as you continue to grind your hips into his.

seungcheol scoffs, still smirking. “you know exactly how to get what you want.”

“don’t act like you don’t want it too.”

“i never said i didn’t,” cheol murmurs. “i’m just realizing i’m not as… in control of our dynamic as i thought.”

you grin down at him and place your own hands on each of his shoulders to steady yourself. “took you long enough.”