❝ DECISIONS ❞
𑣲 pairing. myoui mina x fem!reader
𑣲 content. dom toxic!mina, dubcon, hypnosis, manipulation, degradation, praise kink, use of toys (dildo), corruption kink, overstimulation
𑣲 word count. 2,076
summary. you asked for help deciding. mina decided everything.
from jenn. this is actually 2 requests combined!!! somehow 🦞 and 🌊 anon were spiritually connected fr.. this was supposed to go up on mina’s birthday but i had to tweak some parts + got lazy so.. belated happy birthday minaaa 🐧 also idk how i feel about this one i think i just reread it too many times and started nitpicking everything BUT i still hope it hits for you guys the way it did in my head
The apartment was a mess of open tabs, half-written emails, and the heavy, suffocating silence of your own indecision. You were sitting at the kitchen island, head in your hands, staring at two different job offers, three different lease agreements, and a life that felt like it was crumbling under the weight of a dozen maybe’s.
“I can’t do it, Mina,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I can’t pick. Every time I think I’ve decided, I find a reason why it’s the wrong move. My head is just... it’s too loud.”
Mina didn’t offer a hug. She didn’t offer a glass of water.
“It’s loud because you’re letting it be,” she murmured. “You’re obsessed with the ‘what if’ instead of the ‘what is’ You need to clear the cache, Y/N. You need to let someone else handle the steering for a while.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” you snapped, the stress finally bubbling over into a heated, jagged edge. “I feel like I can’t even think for myself anymore.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” Mina countered, her voice dropping an octave as she walked toward you. She didn’t stop until she was inches away, her presence filling your entire field of vision. “You think too much, and you do it poorly. You’re paralyzed. And it’s exhausting to watch you suffer through your own incompetence.”
“Incompetence?!” You stood up, your chair screeching against the floor. “I’m trying to make a life decision, Mina! Not pick a movie!”
“And yet, you can’t even do that,” she hissed, her eyes locking onto yours with a dark, unblinking intensity. She held up a hand, her index finger pointing directly at the bridge of your nose. “Sit. Down.”
The command was so sharp, so authoritative, that your knees buckled before your brain could even register the insult. You slumped back into the chair.
“Look at me,” Mina commanded, her voice softening. “You’re so tired of choosing, aren’t you? You want the noise to stop. You want to wake up and just... know what to do.”
“I... I do,” you breathed, your anger suddenly feeling distant, like it belonged to someone else.
“Then let the door swing open,” she whispered, leaning down until her forehead nearly touched yours. “I know what’s best for you, darling. I’ve always known. Your thoughts are just... clutter. And I’m going to help you throw them away. Now focus on my voice.”
Your eyes were fixed on Mina’s, and for the first time in weeks, your brain wasn’t shouting a list of pros and cons.
It was silent. And it was terrifyingly peaceful.
“There,” Mina whispered, her thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “See? No more ‘what ifs.’ No more ‘maybe next time’ Just my voice. It’s a lot easier to breathe when you aren’t suffocating under your own doubt, isn’t it?”
“It’s... quiet,” you breathed, your voice sounding small and distant, like it was coming from the bottom of a well.
“Good,” Mina cooed, her gaze dropping to the job offers sitting on the counter. She didn’t even look at the salary or the benefits. She just picked one up—the one that would keep you in the city, the one with the longest hours, the one that made you most dependent on her schedule—and tore the other one in half.
“You’re going to take the local offer, darling,” she said, her voice dropping into that authoritative register that made your spine feel like it was melting. “You’re going to call them tomorrow morning. You’re going to tell them you’ve made up your mind. Do you understand?”
“I... understand,” you murmured. The logic of it didn’t even matter anymore. If Mina said it was the right choice, then the clutter in your head couldn’t argue.
Mina leaned in, her lips ghosting against your ear. “And when people ask you why you chose it... you’re going to tell them it was your own idea. Because you’re a smart, capable girl who finally knows what she wants. Right?”
“Right,”
“Good girl,” she whispered, her hand sliding down to grip the back of your neck, grounding you in the trance. “Now, stay right here. I’m going to make us some dinner.”
The dinner plates were cleared, the wine was finished, and the heavy fog in your brain was finally starting to lift. You felt light. Almost too light.
Until you opened your laptop.
Your eyes scanned the sent folder. “Mina?” your voice was trembling, the anger bubbling up through the cracks of the fading trance. “What is this? Why did I…”
Mina was standing by the record player, flipping through a stack of vinyl. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t even turn around.
“You were overwhelmed, darling,” she murmured, her voice as smooth and cool as the marble countertop. “You asked for peace of mind. I gave it to you. The decision is made. The noise is gone. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I asked for help making a choice, Mina! Not for you to hijack my career!” You stood up, the chair scraping harshly against the floor.
Mina finally turned. She didn’t look guilty. She looked disappointed. Like a teacher watching a student fail a simple test. She walked toward you, her steps slow.
“You’re getting worked up again,” she whispered, stopping just inches away. “The static is coming back. It’s making you irrational. It’s making you... ungrateful.”
“I’m not being ungrateful, I’m being—”
“Shh,” Mina interrupted. She didn’t grab you. She reached out and took your hand, her touch feather rlight as she lifted your knuckles to her lips. She kissed each one, her eyes never leaving yours. “Your heart is racing. Let me help.”
“No, Mina, stop—”
“I’m just calming you down,” she cooed, her other hand sliding around to the back of your neck, pulling you gently toward her. She pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the pulse point below your ear. “Forget the email. Forget the job. It’s all just... background noise.”
You tried to pull away, but your muscles felt like they were turning to lead.
Your hands, which had been clenched into fists against her chest, slowly uncurled, your fingers snagging weakly in the silk of her blouse.
She pulled back just enough to look at you, her dark eyes blown wide, devouring the glazed, helpless look in yours.
She pushed you back against the cool marble of the kitchen island—the same place where she had dismantled your life only hours before. She pulled your shorts down with a rough, possessive tug, her thighs sliding between yours to lock you in place.
“You’re so much prettier when you aren’t thinking,” Mina whispered, her hand sliding from your neck to cup your jaw.
Her hand slid between your thighs, fingers tracing the edge of your panties, feeling how soaked they already were through the thin fabric. “Is that what you need, darling?”
Her fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down just enough to expose you to the cool air of the kitchen. “You’re so wet already,”
She knew you were sensitive when you were like this—pliable and needy. She could manipulate you so easily.
She pushed your legs apart and settled between them, her eyes locked on yours as she began to lick and suck at your sensitive pussy.
Mina ate you out like a starving woman, her tongue delving deep, her lips sucking hard on your clit. She knew exactly what you needed to make you whimper and squirm. She used her thumbs to rub your inner thighs, spreading you wider as she devoured you. “So yummy…”
She didn’t stay down there. She rose slowly, her eyes never leaving yours, looking like a predator who had just finished a very satisfying meal. Her lips were swollen and glistening, a stray drop of your own moisture clinging to her chin.
“Don’t close your legs,” she commanded, her voice a low, raspy velvet as she stepped back into your space.
Mina reached out, her hand sliding between your thighs and began to move her fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds filling the kitchen as she finger fucked you against the island. Her other hand gripped your hip tightly, holding you in place as she used her fingers to stretch and prepare you for something bigger. “It’s sliding in and out so nice,”
“Relax,” she murmured, pressing a third finger inside you. “Let me in.”
Your walls clenched around her, unaccustomed to stretching so wide, your head falling back against the marble as she curled her fingers just right, finding that spot deep inside that made stars form behind your eyelids.
“Good girl,” she praised, continuing to fuck you with her fingers, the pressure and pleasure overwhelming as she pushed deeper than before. “You’re taking it so well. Just a little more, okay? Just a little wider…”
Your thighs shook violently, your back arching off the cold marble. You gasped, your fingers clawing at the countertop.
She watched your face contort, her dark eyes hungry and predatory. “There’s my perfect little hole.”
She pulled her fingers out slowly, leaving you feeling achingly empty, exposed. She wiped her slick hand on your thigh, not caring about the mess.
“Stay right there,” she said, her voice back to that cool, untouchable ice. You watched, breathless and shivering, as she turned and walked toward the bedroom.
A moment later, she reappeared in the doorway.
She wasn’t empty-handed. In her grip was a heavy, realistic silicone piece—thick and far more daunting than her fingers. She had planned this. She always planned this.
“Watch,” she commanded, she ran the dildo through her fist, mimicking the motion of sex. “This is what’s going inside that pretty, stupid cunt of yours. You understand?”
You nodded weakly, mesmerized by the obscene display. “I said watch,” she snapped when your eyes fluttered closed. “Watch how easily this fucking toy is going to slide into your pussy. You’re so fucking wet for it.”
She lubed it up, impatient strokes, slicking it generously before pressing the tip against your entrance. She pushed slowly, letting you feel every thick inch as it stretched you open, filling the emptiness her fingers had left behind.
The groan that escaped you was ragged, needy. “Mina—”
“Shh, baby,” she soothed, though her hand gripped your hip possessively as she bottomed out, the silicone fully seated inside you. “You’re doing so good. Taking every fucking inch like you were made for it.”
She started to move it in slow, deliberate thrusts, angling it to hit that perfect spot. “That’s right.”
“You’re not thinking anymore, are you, darling?” She thrust the dildo deeper, her words sinking into your fucked out brain like a command. “Just my toy in your cunt, making you feel good. Isn’t that better than all that noisy decision-making?”
Your hips lifted off the counter, meeting her thrusts.
“Answer me,” she demanded, her hand gripping your jaw roughly, forcing you to look at her. “Isn't this better?”
“Yes—” you choked out, tears pricking at your eyes. “It’s —it’s better—”
“Good girl,” she praised, rewarded you with a hard, deep thrust that made your vision whiten.
“You’re just a needy little slut now, aren’t you? All that smart girl shit gone. Now you’re just taking my toy like a good fucking hole. Look at you—legs spread, back arched, begging for more.” She snapped her hips forward sharply.
“Pathetic.”
The insult only made you squirm more, your mind completely short-circuiting at the degrading words. She laughed darkly, enjoying your helplessness. “God, you’re fucking adorable like this. I wish I could keep you stupid and fucked out all the time.”
She picked up the pace, the dildo sliding in and out of your pussy with wet, lewd sounds. “Jjust little moans and whimpers. Look, you’re even drooling a little.”
Your orgasm crept up on you like a wave, silent and devastating. Your body clamping around the toy as you came with a broken sob, your eyes streaming.
“Mina—” you gasped, your thighs locking around her “I—I came—I didn’t—I didn’t get permission—”
“Shh, shh,” she soothed, though her thrusts didn’t stop—she kept fucking you through it, drawing out every last pulsing wave. “It’s okay, darling. You’re allowed. You’re always allowed. Don’t apologize for being a good girl.”
She leaned down and kissed your forehead softly.
“No more decisions, baby,” she whispered into the silence of the kitchen. “From now on, I’ll do all the thinking for both of us.”
