#Split open a monster from the inside | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 11 months ago

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I'm A BIG Stepper!

Synopsis. Too big? There’s no such thing as “too big”.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, saying it’s “too big”, FÉRAL boys, spítting, chokíng, them being big like REALLY big, cúmplay, oraI (male + fem), Choso’s rings, breéding, víbrators, creampíe, again - REALLY big, kinda mean Choso hehe, true form! Sukuna, dp, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.7k

A/N. When you accidentally choose “thought daughter” and half your synopses are questions WHOOPS.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - “That? M’bigger.”

“Yer killin’ me, doll.” Toji huffs out in ragged jealousy at those slow, sultry noises. “Look at you- just look at how she’s just begging f’me.”

Such cute lil’ whines leave your pretty lips as he works your puffy cunt open with that hot pink vibrator of yours. Soaked, thick - customized to the exact measurements of the achingly hard cock sat between his legs right now.

“B-but-” you gasp, eyeing down at the way your puffy folds were bulging around the toy. “S’barely even ngh- all the way in, Toji.”

“So?” he rolls his eyes. And Toji knows he’s being ridiculous, he knows it’s for his own good to stretch out your gummy walls so that you can take his massive size. But all it takes is another hard caress of that buzzing length against your poor g-spot for him to snap.

Eyes becoming crazed when your jaw falls slack, back arching up like such a slut up against his hard abs as you squeal, “Toji! Oh my god m’close—”

Close?

Suddenly, Toji can’t take it anymore - he needs to feel you wrapped around himself.

Now.

“M’gonna- wait what- ngh!” You’re batting your dewy eyes up at him when he drags the vibrator out with a loud squelch! All at once. Still reeling from disappointment, “Baby, why’d you-”

“Because.” he interrupts, and you keen when you feel the urgent throb! of Toji’s fat tip kissing at your swollen folds. Red and angry, leaking thick precum over your pussy lips in a pretty gloss. So mesmerizing that you almost miss the familiar flex of his thighs, the way his dark brows furrow in concentration. “-this pussy of yours says s’time for the real deal.”

It’s all that’s said before he’s suddenly dipping his girthy head just barely past your first ring of resistance. Difficult.

“Relax.” he hisses. Pushing in lingering, determined little grinds past each clench, still easy - still patient. For now. “Breathe f’me. Breathe f’me come on, She can do hah- do it, right, my girl?”

Shit, a part of him thinks he should’ve almost waited longer with the vibrator. Because Toji knows he’s big. He knows your cunt is so tight so heavenly he might just pass out right now. Until-

“Hngh! Toji!” you scramble onto your elbows when you feel his fat head finally bullies past to brush up against your hidden sweet spots. That little divot squeezing past to mark your walls inside. “You promised you’d hah- last longer with the oh vibrator tonight.”

Honestly, a part of Toji was impressed you were still able to form coherent sentences with the way you were being split apart on his monster cock.

He leans down to nuzzle your neck, “Awww, did I?” Hiking your limp legs further and further up his broad shoulders where he had you folded in half. “I don’t remember, maybe your pussy was jus’ c-calling t’me.”

“You- you liar!” you cry out, and he can’t help but grow impossibly harder. Fighting off that dangerous, feral part of himself that just wants to ram into you like some animal already. Because oh how he loved when you act like you weren’t bucking up mindlessly into the smooth staccato of his hips as he eases his way in. “Hngh- fuck you jus’ got- oh!”

The stretch - fuck the stretch. You never got used to it, no matter how many times he used that damn vibrator on you. Pushing you to your limits. It’s like he was nudging at your lungs already.

“F-fuuuck-” you can’t hold back your desperate moans, nails dragging reg marks down his biceps almost the size of your head. “Are you- ngh are you at least halfway in, Toji?”

“Nope.” he hums smugly, popping the p. “Though…”

And in a split second, he’s sitting up, with you splayed out so prettily on his fat length. Lips quirking into a mean little grin when two big arms of his help gravity pull you down, down, down onto his thick cock. Inch by fucking inch.

Turning his head to lick a long, languid stripe up his wrist. Groaning at the sweet sweet taste of your juices forming a sheen on his skin from the little “preparation” before. And fuck you think you feel him grow thicker - angry veins pulsing against every nook and cranny of your cunt.

Full. So full - and he wasn’t even all the way in yet.

“Oh- oh my god- fuck you’re so deep.” you mewl, body jolting with the inability to decide between wanting to run away or slam your hips down for more.

Toji notices - of course, he does - it was always like this, a few tears, a few whines, a few strokes with that pathetic “replica” of his swollen cock to stretch you out. He splays a hand out over your lower stomach, pressing down. Hard. Twitching wildly at that familiar bulge inside you, “M’so much deeper than that stupid toy.”

It’s all you can do to whimper, strained and utterly fucked out already. “Wh-what?”

“Heh, ya wanna know a secret, doll?” He’s leaning down to chuckle darkly in your ear - sending shivers down your neck, your arched spine, all the way to where he gives harsh thrust. Calculated. Once. Twice.

This time, not stopping until he was bottoming out.

Your puffy folds meeting his pelvis in a lewd kiss, his heavy balls smacking against your ass, thick cock settled deep - right where Toji’s been dying to be all night. Toji coos at the way your poor cunt was stuttering and bulging with the greedy effort to take him.

He plants a sloppy kiss right on your lips, “That vibrator’s made smaller than me.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Gentleman.

Now, Nanami Kento has always been told he looked like a gentleman - everything from his neatly styled hair, to his perfect suits, to the stern reading glasses always at his nose. Nanami Kento was a gentleman - both inside and out.

Well, except for that massive cock he hid away behind dapper dress pants, of course.

The one that always got so girthy and angry at the mere thought of not being stuffed inside your pretty pussy. The one that was currently beading hot precum at your pussy lips, forming a lewd little pool from where he was spooning you from behind.

The perfect remedy after a long, hard day at work - you, his cute lil’ wife.

“Bad day?” you whisper over your shoulder, Nanami’s nods coming out in feverish little puffs against your heated skin. “Then, I want you to put it in, Ken. All of it, don’ wanna waste time on preparation.”

And Nanami was never one to deny his wife - never one to doubt anything you wanted. But at this very moment, he’s loosening that speckled yellow tie he didn’t have the patience - nor the sanity to remove. Sliding the divot on his fat tip across your clit with a hushed, “Can’t, my love. I promised to not overwork you.”

You huff, “S’not overworking- just ngh- Ken-”

“Don’t.” he warns, hips rutting up lewdly at the mere sound of your voice. Sliding the mess of his glisteningly swollen cock right between your puffy folds. “Fuck- don’t. Jus’ had a bad day n’ this naughty pussy’s gonna make me lose control, darling. Have you calling out of work tomorrow.” He kisses down your neck left hand snaking down to give your cunt a gentle smack! The cool band of his wedding ring burning against your clit, “S’that really what you want?”

And it was meant to be a question to himself more than anything, really. A reminder that you weren’t even prepared yet - not stretched and teased to his heart’s content like usual. A reminder to fucking reel his sanity back before he breaks you.

But, alas, maybe you’re a genius - maybe you’re just stupid. Because you whine stubbornly, “Well, I hear it’s the best solution for a bad day, so why don’t you?”

In an instant, that’s all it takes for your leg to be stretched up in the air. The cozy bedroom chill hitting your bare cunt - only for a split-second, before Nanami’s achy tip is filling you up. Everywhere. Anywhere.

“Hold onto this.” his free hand presses his tie onto your shaky one, hip still pushing. Still rutting up in a steady pressure on your snug cunt. “Pull on it if m’going too rough- fuck- fuckin’ choke me I don’t care. Jus’ let me know because from now on…” he trails off dangerously.

But you’re not left to wonder what the end of his sentence will gift you. No, because you feel it.

He’s pushing in - nothing like the slow, languid strokes you were used to. No, barely even giving you the time to adjust while your husband just keeps pressing and pressing and-

“Ah! Ken!” you involuntarily tug on his tie when his sensitive slit massages at those syrupy sweet spots insides. “You’re so deep- fuck just fuck me how you want to.”

Nanami’s head feels light, vision getting spottier with each heaving breath he’s taking - maybe from your tightening grip around his tie, maybe from the way you’re squeezing him so fucking tight. But it takes him a few seconds to pull himself together enough to grit out, “Fuck- I want to. Oh, how I want to.” As if to confirm his statement, he’s thumbing apart your sopping slit, groaning at the sight of you drooling eagerly down his cock. “But you’re so fuckin’ tight I can’t ngh- s’this how you feel- fuck! I think m’gonna hafta take y’like this all the time, my love.”

Each word has him speeding up in jagged little pistons. Feeling so mean with the way he was bullying those cute moans out of you.

“I don’t care- ngh-” you babble, when his fingers roll over your clit. Squirming your hips down to meet his, trying to press up against those neat tufts of blond at his hilt. “-just want you all inside me.”

Shaping your cunt to this shape of him, losing his breath with each and every dense push inside your sloppy entrance. Still stuck not even halfway in yet - but you feel like you’re losing your goddamn mind.

“You’re so fuckin’ hah- hold on.” And then, your beloved Nanami pushes your leg up even further, craning his neck over to spit. A steady, sinful stream of saliva right onto the bulging mound of where he was sheeting himself in your pussy. Circling your clit, he hums in satisfaction at the mess he’s made, “Now I can ruin you exactly how I want.”

You open up so pliant for him, massaging every bump and ridge along his long, long length while you let him skim past. Being split open so well. So maddeningly.

Like you wanted to be ruined.

And just the thought of it is enough to push Nanami over the edge of his sanity - and to push the entirety of his raw, needy cock inside your tight pussy. Finally. Finally bottoming out.

“Ngh- shit-” he lets out a long breath, sharp canines puncturing at the sensitive skin on your neck. Hips stuttering and getting sloppy with each jittery push deeper inside. Even when Nanami feels your hips fucking back into his to meet the brick wall of his toned abs. His twitching balls sensitive against your ass. “Now, lemme tell ya how how it’s been a-” Just slamming his hips into yours, a ruthless depraved cadence. Fingers ruthless on your clit. “-long fuckin’ day without you.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Till m’stupid!

“P-please!” you try - and fail - to pull off his need mouth from your poor, overstimulated cunt. Fingers clasping desperately onto his long, inky hair. “I jus’ wan’ you in me- hah-”

It’s around your fourth orgasm that night when you’re finally crying out in surrender, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks with each high, legs spasming and trying to run away from Geto Suguru’s mean mouth. Your breath catching in your chest when he only hums around your ravaged clit in answer.

“I dunno, gorgeous.” Geto teases, sloppy tongue darting around your pulsing hole. Stretching. Lapping up each and every drop of your syrupy cunt. “Don’ think she’s ready to take me, yet.”

Fuck, you knew what that meant.

You knew that meant another few sweet rolls of Geto’s tongue against your clit, another few bullying praises spat into your sensitive cunt while he dragged you through another high - another orgasm that wasn’t on his swollen cock.

And despite how much you loved the way your boyfriend teased and toyed your needy cunt with his mouth - you needed more.

So you tug once again on his dark locks, tongue getting loose with delirium, “You’re so mean, Sugu. So what if I j-jus’ wan’ your cock.”

Oh how he loved to have you begging.

At this, his glassy eyes meet yours right from where Geto was still making out with your pretty pussy in a slow, languid kiss. The squelches and suckles ringing in your ears over your own words. His brow quirks, already with the nickname, huh? Interesting.

“Can’t cum a-as good if it’s not on your cock.” you plow on. Oh, now it’s flattery? How cute. You manage to sputter out while your words don’t even slow him down, “And! And if you don’t-” Ah, Geto muses, this one’s probably the threat. What will it be? Last time it was making him do all the dishes. The time before that it was buying you that handbag you really loved- “-m’gonna go on a sex ban!”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Now, if there’s one thing you know to never threaten Geto Suguru with, it’s a sex ban. But, alas, desperate times call for desperate measures.

So here he was - face wrenching away from the honeypot of your sweet cunt like it hurt to leave. Eyes wide as he scrambles to meet you, your slick glistening down his gaping lips, his burning cheeks - fuck, he’s never looked prettier.

“My baby…” Geto purrs into your ear, coming up to graze his lips against your in a messy crash of teeth and tongue. “Gorgeous, you never thought I’d be serious- right? Hah- sex ban my ass. You’re funny, real fucking funny.” But for all how confident he was, Geto was soothing out his words with the slightest tremor. Hastily sliding his furiously leaking tip between your sopping slit. Up and down up and down up and- “-cuz who said I could live another second without being in this cute pussy?”

As if to prove his point, Geto’s sliding his fat head past your puffy folds, stretching out your entrance so taut around his thick cock.

A big hand of his finds its way onto the small of your waist, and in a split-second Geto has your position flipped so that he’s splayed out on the mattress instead. Your limp body now toppling precariously where you were sat on his swollen cock.

“Oh.” his pretty mouth falls slack when his hazy eyes lock down at where the two of you were connected. Your pussy lips spread and sucking him up so well. He marvels, “Oh shit look at you. You always take it so well when you’re cockdrunk like this.”

And it’s true - Geto could barely feel that familiar little resistance of muscle. Instead, you’re letting his vein poke at your cunt welcomingly. Bullying himself inside.

You’re keening when an experimental thrust has Geto plunging in even deeper, throbbing veins massaging every nook and cranny of your gummy walls. You could feel him everywhere. And it’s like he could see the strain to take him. To milk him even greedier.

“S-Sugu-”

“Shhh, this is what y’wanted, right?” he’s breathing, strained - like he’s at the end of his sanity with each inch you’re bouncing down his length. “To be fucked on my cock? No matter how big?”

You don’t even have the ability to respond at this point - just the way he liked it. That smart mouth of yours too drunk to think of anything other than him. To only whine when he pools your salty tears on his tongue, murmuring into your skin, “Now now, ‘nough with the cryin’ hah- you wanted to be fucked stupid- n’that’s exactly what m’gonna do.”

Ah, he loved this part.

Loved how all those previous orgasms were crashing together to render you barely lucid when he’s shoving his entire cock up into your slutty hole. Glossy lips trembling when he hits the back of your cunt- already? Shit, that last orgasm must’ve hit you harder than he thought.

That slightly upwards curve of his dick was driving you wild now buried to his hilt. And only shoving himself deeper with each grind that Geto was bucking up to. Until his heavy balls rested behind your ass, neat black happy trail rubbing up against your skin. Until it was impossible to go any deeper.

Your drunken eyes are snapping up in surprise when feeling him grow even thicker inside you, the rough girth shaping out your sloppy hole. He rasps out a chuckle, “Wonder how loose you’ll be after a fifth one, hm?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Make him break!

Now, Choso knew your dirty lil’ tricks, he knew not to trust that sultry curl of your lips when you called out to him. That dangerous little glint in your eyes when you begged him to go deeper, one he almost misses with the way your heavenly cunt was trying to suck him up greedily. Almost.

Always playing with his sanity.

Always asking for more.

“But, baby.” he whines, pressing a concerned little peck to that adorable pout on your lips. Breath catching in his chest when you tug stubbornly on his bottom lip. “I don’t wanna- hah- don’ wanna hurt you, y’know?”

In response, you’re only wrapping your legs around his toned waist tighter, sure to leave sinful little marks at those dimples at the bottom of his spine. “I know what I want- n’ what I want is-” your elastic walls squeeze around his girth. Hard. “-more.”

Choso can’t help but let out a slow, hoarse drag of your name. Dark strands of his hair sticking to his forehead when he throws his head back, hips grinding down, down, down-

“Hah! You- oh-” his hazy eyes are flying open when he realizes he’s playing right into your evil hands. Biting his sharp canines down on your pulse - a little warning. “You know what happens when I go all the way, baby. M’not gonna fit- m’gonna lose control. M’gonna-”

“Please?” you hum sweetly.

He was about halfway in now - mouth watering at the way your pussy was spread open so shamefully for him. Already bulging and leaking onto the drenched silky sheets below with the struggle to take him - and you wanted more?

“Tha’s right.” you hum, and it takes his saturated mind a second to realize he said that out loud. And even longer to blink up and meet your hungry gaze, “I want more, Cho.”

Fuck, and it was so unfair. Maybe it’s the nickname, maybe it’s the way you buck your hips up sloppily, lewd squelches ringing in his ear when you bully his swollen cock just an inch more.

Maybe it’s just you. .

But that’s all it takes for him to gasp, eyes snapping wider - crazed even - hips stuttering so messily forwards before-

“Fuck, you’re such a little slut, baby.” And before you know it, Choso’s ramming his hips forwards. Letting the loud smack of skin-on-skin sound across the heady air, bruising. Painful, even. “Such a greedy little bitch-” Watching his throbbing length disappear, he’s sure it’ll leave marks - his heavy balls on your ass, toned pelvis against your thighs, fat cockhead hitting at your cervix. “-N’ s’what you’re gonna be treated like.”

It only takes one kiss of Choso’s leaky tip right against the bottom of your snug pussy before he’s cumming and cumming so hard you can almost feel him twitch at your lungs.

Not waiting for you to adjust, not even waiting for his high to bate. no, don’t make him laugh. Just spearing you on his long length, barely even easing your poor, quivering cunt into it before he’s fucking you into the mattress.

Fully bottomed out now - exactly as you knew would happen.

“No- no no no hold on.” Choso holds both your thrashing legs still with one of his, pushing past that feeble resistance while he finds his rhythm at your gaping hole. “This is- hah-” he groans, voice shot over your wrecked ah! ah! ah! Plunging inside you like he was molding your pliant walls to his shape. “Told you m’gonna break ngh-”

He was massive already - barely even managing to squeeze past and massage your dripping cunt. But oh the sweet overfill of his seed had you keening, scrambling to grab onto the sheets, the headboard, his shoulders to keep even an ounce of your sanity.

“Ngh- fuck!” you whine at the feeling of rope after rope of his thick cum sloshing around inside your plush walls. His veins throb! throb! throbbing! against your sensitive spots to make such a mess of you below. “Fuck- jus’ like that, Cho- keep- hah- keep goin’”

And you didn’t even have to ask. As expected, your boyfriend’s brows after knitting together, pushing your legs so far apart it burned. Abs flexing as his hips moved in jagged, desperate pistons to massage your gummy walls.

This was what you wanted so badly - the way he always breaks like this.

Always.

“Y’asked for more n’ you’re gonna get it.” his voice stutters, cracking ever so slightly with each smash into that spongy bundle of nerves. “More- hah!” Letting out a humorless, almost-shrill laugh, “You knew this would happen, huh?”

You’re just batting your lashes deceivingly innocently, pressing a honeyed peck to Choso’s snarl, “I highly hah- doubt-”

“Look at you.” he spits at your bumbling retort, “Can’t even speak.” Two thick fingers coming up to circle the thick globs of seed pooled at your ravaged clit, purposefully grazing against the sensitive nub. “Fuckin’ wanted more and you’re gonna- get it.”

Slamming into you fast. Out of control.

You open your mouth - no doubt to spit out some other taunt - but before the words leave your lips, he’s shoving his now-sloppy mess of his index and middle finger inside. Forcing the salty taste of his cum spilling out with each thrust, and the cool metal of his thick metal rings. You wanted to break him - and that’s what you’re gonna get.

“So you hah- better shut up that pretty mouth of yours unless I break the bed again and you along with it”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Twin bitches, twin bitches

“Enough admirin’ me.” Sukuna chuckles darkly from above you, reaching down to cradle your dazed head with a large, clawed hand of his. “The faster ya get back to doing yer lil’ job, the sooner that pretty cunt can take me.”

And it’s all you can do to heave for air, looking up defiantly at the two massive cocks kissing at your mouth. Barely getting a few breaths in before Sukuna’s hips thrust forwards once again to spear your heavenly mouth one of his swollen lengths. Smirking at the way your glossy lips bulge around him, “Yeah yeah, what? Got somethin’ to say, brat?”

You’re squeezing your soft palm up and down the drenched hilt of his other cock. Managing to gasp out, “I- want you-” Before your mouth is being fucked again like some little fucktoy - by both of them. Over and over. Taunting, “I want- you- now.”

“Now?” And Sukuna sounds genuinely surprised, baring his sharp canines in a shocked grin. “Y’think you can hah- already take me now?” Hissing as he drags your sloppy mouth up and off his sensitive lengths, only to question. “You sure about that?”

This angle gives you the perfect view of his intimidating cocks - massive, painfully hard. Fat tips flushed the same shade of pretty pink, angry and weeping all over your swollen lips. Twin veins throbbing urgently at your hot breath, both swollen lengths twitch so animalistically when you spit. Once. Twice.

“Heh- you always do surprise me, lil’ human.”

And shit you were goading him into it - toying with him.

But you didn’t expect that in all of two seconds, Sukuna would be lifting you easily off the ground with two big arms, wrapping your boneless legs around his waist to fit you snugly like a puzzle piece against his muscled body.

“Wh-what-”

“Y’asked, my girl.” he whispers, ragged at what a needy lil’ slut you were being for him right now. His other two free arms aligning both leaky tips at your quivering cunt. “N’ since you’re so fuckin’ spoiled, guess I gotta always hah- give ya what you want, huh?”

“You mean- oh-” It’s right around this time that you can’t think - you can’t even breathe. Can’t do anything but surrender to the two massive lengths bullying past your stretchy ring of muscle. Molding the entrance of your cunt to the shape of his cocks.

“Mmm fuck m’never gonna get tired of this stretch.” he’s groaning throatily, humming with each little half-thrust inside you. Just barely a push and pull. “So wet n- how the fuck hah- are you this tight?”

You scoff, mouth sharp even when it feels like he’s splitting you in half, “I can think of ngh- t-two reasons.”

And then Sukuna has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh - laugh - loud and baritone, the force of his chest rumbling having you slipping deeper and deeper down his massive cock. Losing your barely-there footing with each inch he’s feeding into your needy cunt.

You sputter, “Ngh- f-fuck you’re in so deep.”

“F-f-fuck you’re in so deep.” Sukuna mimics your moans in a pitch much higher than his own. Giving the fat of your ass a sharp smack! as he massages your way down. “M’not even hah- halfway in yet so ya better buckle up, brat.”

And it was true - he was still pushing in desperate, purposeful ruts upwards of his hips. Short strokes that you’d never have the king of curses do - unless he was feeling particularly nice.

Your legs dangle in midair, nails digging into his tan skin with each smack of his heavy set balls with each movement, leaving a smear of precum and spit. Sliding you down so much easier than he thought it would. Down, down, down…

“Ya feel me in here?” you’re gasping at the pressure of one of his sharp nails. Dangerous. Trailing down, down, down to draw an imaginary line on your stomach. One. And another one not too long aways, “And here?” At your cockdrunk little nod, he smiles - dark and wild. “Use your words if you ah- want what’s comin’.”

He feels you milk his cocks even harder at that, like you’re trying to drag out something delicious when you squeal, “Can feel you- can’t feel anything but you-”

The tip of his thick finger dances higher and higher. And he gruffs out, “Well, soon enough m’gonna be- hah here!”

That deep promise is all that runs through your oversaturated mind before Sukuna’s ramming into you - no mercy. Just shoving you down his throbbing cock until he could see them bulge outwards from your supple skin, leaving a lewd little mark right where he predicted it would be.

Bullseye.

“Oh fuuuuck, so nice n’ tight f’me.” Sukuna whimpers - he whimpers. Fuck, the feeling of your walls trying desperately to take shape to his cocks so addictive. So dizzying the way he can feel himself rubbing against one another, bulbous veins throbbing in time to an erratic staccato. “So nice and- and-” he’s losing his words now, slurring with each languid half-thrust up into your cervix. “-mine.”

The word seemed to have made something so feral and dark poke its head out of Sukuna’s exterior. Because then he’s dragging you sloppy cunt like he owned her, all the way from his weeping tips down until your clit was scratching against those tufts of pink at his hilt.

Slamming into you promisingly until you see stars, until you’re cumming. Electricity running through your veins just at the feeling of being so full.

Fucking you through your high, Sukuna only taunts, “Now this is where the real fun starts.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - NO CONTROL

“Why the- why the fuck-” your gasp is drowned out by the sharp rip! of fabric echoing across your boyfriend’s luxurious childhood bedroom. Pieces of your poor panties currently laying in tatters on its hardwood floor, “-do they make these things so easy access?”

As if they could be anything but easy access.

Not with the way Gojo had you bent over the nearest desk he could find, your wrists pinned, skirt bunched up, cunt slobbering and already struggling around where he was just dipping his fat head inside.

Yet, you still manage to hiss over your shoulder, “If- if it’s so ‘easy access’ then why the fuck did you hah- rip it, you fool?”

But ah you should’ve known better than to give Gojo Satoru one of your glares. Because that along with your honeyed insults have him twitching ferally inside you, the curve of his cock jolting perfectly against your hidden sweet spot. Of course.

“Because.” he gives you a sly chuckle, the very tip of his aching cock dragging along your gummy walls. “You should know this by now.” Nipping at the shell of your ear, “M’so big that even those panties are a problem, sweetheart.”

And oh the smug bastard, he’s pushing into your heavenly cunt in languid grinds. Savoring. Hypnotic.

You’re gasping when one of his calculated thrusts mashes against your sensitive areas, the slow push and pull having your nails almost digging into the wooden desk. Scrambling onto your very tip-toes to glide your gummy walls against his thick length.

“Toru…” you moan, hissing in warning. “Y-you better be quiet or else your hah- your parents are gonna hear us.”

“Hah! Me? Me?” he cackles, drinking in your bleary gaze, the way your mouth was falling slack with each tempo of his hips. “Think you should be more ngh- worried about yourself, sweetheart.” He’s pressing a hot mess of a kiss one your swollen lips, your shoulders. Down, down, down wherever he could reach down your arched spine, “Besides. We’ll be s-sneaky, m’jus’ puttin’ in the-”

And perhaps for the first time in his life, the great Gojo Satoru is utterly speechless. Words catching in his chest at the sinful sight right below him.

Your legs spread, shaking. Inner thighs smeared with the glossy sheen of the mess he’s making of your poor cunt. And you pussy- oh fuck, your pussy. With your puffy folds spread, bulging even with the effort to take it just past his fat head. Quivering and struggling with each experimental grind.

Fuck, it was hard to look at it, too. It made him throb so painfully - it made him grow bigger.

“Ngh! What the fuck-” you spit at the feeling of that familiar burn, your syrupy walls being stretched to their absolute limits.

“Shhh shhh- change of plans, sweetheart.” Is all Gojo grunts in response, bending his long, long legs at the knees to bully himself inside easier. Two big arms wrapping around your middle, reaching over to give your clit a determined swivel of his fingers. “M’gonna go about- halfway? Yeah, halfway.”

And yet, he sounds unsure himself. Voice just a pitch higher, breathy, like he was losing more and more of his sanity with each little half-thrust he’s gifting your poor cunt with.

Just quick, methodical little kisses of his hips to yours, heavy balls smacking against your thighs with each inch your greedy cunt is swallowing up. Milking the absolute fucking soul out of him.

“F-fuck!” you keen when that thick vein of his down the middle massages your good spot. The adorable sound making Gojo’s eyes light up, smirking as he hikes his knee up higher to piston deep into your dripping pussy. Heady with the squelches from below. “Th-this is hah more than- half Toru-”

Fuck, was it?

Gojo hadn’t even noticed - too drunk on the way you were squeezing his poor, overworked cock so tight. Until it was almost difficult to plunge into your dripping cunt - to split you apart on it exactly the way he wanted.

But, well, now that he was taking a long, hard look - he was just a bit more than halfway through. Brows raising in delight at the way your hips are pushing back in mindless little swivels for more.

“Then, I guess-” he trails off, two large hands of his coming to rest at your waist. A disappointed whine rips from the back of your throat when his ruthless hips slow down to a still, pulsing with anticipation. “-might as well finish the job.”

“Oh- what- you fuckin’-” The rest of your sentence is swallowed up in the way he rolls his hips forwards - fully. Inch by fucking inch. Catching in your ring of resistance less than all the way through, but still pushing. Still rutting forwards so animalistically. “Toru—” You whine at the stretch, the pure dizzying feeling of him shaping your cunt to the thick girth of his swollen cock. “S’too big- I can’t ngh-”

Pretty pink lips shut up your babbling mouth, murmuring deeply, “No no no no- no you can take it- you can oh.” Long, slender fingers coming up to roll against your poor clit, loosening your feeble reisstance, “Look at the- fuck jus’ look at the way you want me.” And you’re barely registering the hand smushing your cheeks together in an embarrassing pout, forcing you to look down at the steady, lazy torture of him splitting you apart on his massive cock. “This isn’t even fuck- me. Look at how you’re fucking back. How you want me so badly.”

And, usually, you’d snap at Gojo - tell him he’s too cocky for his own good.

But it was true.

You were meeting his sloppy, untimed bounced halfway through. Helping yourself be fucked into that expensive desk. And he’s pushing - so persistent.

So utterly wrecked when his leaky tip nudges against your spongy cervix, stars behind his eyes when his heavy balls smack your thighs. Unstopping - not until your ass was settled snugly against those tufts of white at his base. Finally, all the way in.

Through it all, he manages to rasp out, “Hey, did ya know the walls in his house are soundproofed?”

“...”

“So why don’t we go a proper round, sweetheart? Or five?”

A/N. I did NOT expect these to get so long but yk what I’m not upset.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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leclerc-hs · 1 month ago

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safety first - op81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader summary: in which you always had a thing for oscar in his helmet OR oscar fucks you with his helmet on.... warnings: smut smut smut, all smut, p in v, dirty talk, language, filthy, hot hot hot, thigh riding, slight degradation, NOT PROOFREAD! word count: ~1.4k author's note: hiiiii sorry if its a little too short for y'all. my brain is just like mush after this past week being so busy so this was all I could come up with at the moment! I hope y'all like it tho!!! xoxo

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

You never expected him to keep it on.

But when he walked into the room still suited up, the neon helmet covering every inch of his face, your mouth goes dry.

And you’re already lying back, thighs spread and waiting. You should be embarrassed. Should say something sassy. But he kneels at the edge of the bed, gloved hand around his cock. Hard and leaking.

And you swear your brain short circuits.

And then he’s there.

Head tilted, pulling you up. Sits back against the headboard and shifts you until you’re straddling his thigh.

The suit is hot against your skin. A little rougher than you’d expect.

“Don’t make me say it,” He grunts.

And you whimper, grinding down against him without thinking. Slick dripping onto the fabric.

“Yeah,” He groans, head falling back, neck flushed. “Just like that.”

Your clit drags along the curve of his leg. You moan. Over and over. Until your entire body is rocking, chasing the friction.

“Y’that fuckin needy for me, aren’t you?” He teases. “Gonna come from this?”

He taps the side of his helmet with two fingers. Nods.

“Kiss it.”

“What?”

“You’re coming from it.” His hands flex around your hips. “Thank it.”

Your body clenches. And you lean forward, pressing your lips against the glossy shell.

And you keep grinding. Keep kissing. Until his hands are hauling you up, flipping you over to your back and he’s hovering over you.

His cock already pressed between your thighs when he says it.

“Say it.”

And the helmet dips closer. The Monster logo smearing across you like a brand.

His voice crackles. Voice low through the helmet, gloved hand tightening under your knee as he shoves your legs open wider. There’s a slight rasp in his tone. As if he’s fighting to stay composed.

And you’re soaked. Slick leaking out of you, smearing against him as he slowly drags his cock through your folds.

He hasn’t even fucked you yet. Not properly at least.

You gasp. “Fuck, Osc…”

“No.” He grunts. “Say it.”

You bite your lip and his hips thrust forward just a little bit. Just enough for the tip of his cock to push into your cunt. And your moan breaks out before you can stop it.

He grinds in slow. Teasing.

The helmet visor catches the bedroom light, flashing your reflection back at you. Eyes half-lidded, jaw slack, body twitching from nothing but the way he’s holding you there.

Glossy black streaked with wild reds, greens, and blues wrapped around. And it’s all too bright for what he’s doing to you.

The visor’s pitch black and you can’t see anything behind it. Can’t see his eyes. Can’t see his expression. Just your own ruined reflection looking back at you.

He watches you like he’s trying to memorize every twitch.

“Say what?” You whisper.

“That you’re soaking the fuckin’ sheets because I’m still in this stupid fucking helmet.”

Your back arches off the bed.

“Say it or I don’t fuck you.”

You clench around nothing. Skin burning. “I’m..fuck…Osc. I’m soaked. Because of it.”

“Because of what?” He presses on.

You whimper. Frustration bubbling up inside of you. “Because you’re still in the helmet. Because I can’t see your face and I…..I don’t care. I just need you to fuck me please.”

His groan muffles through the speaker. “That’s my girl.”

And then he pushes in. Splits you open.

Inch by inch until you’re full. Stretched around him. His cock stuffed inside of you.

You cry out, nails digging into his skin. And he doesn’t pull back. Just stays buried inside of you, his helmet brushing your cheek.

“So fuckin’ tight. Y’love this, yeah?”

You nod frantically. One arm clutching at the back of his fireproofs, the other gripping the pillow beside you.

“Bet if I came home like this every night, you’d drop to all fours before I even said a word.”

He pulls out halfway and then slams back into you.

“Bet you’d let me bend you over the table in a full kit. Still suited up. Not saying a word.”

And you choke on a moan. Air knocking out of your lungs. And he doesn’t even flinch.

He’s still steady. Calm. Still in the fucking helmet.

“So sensitive,” He mutters. “I’ve barely started.”

Your nails dig into the fabric, clinging. Trembling.

“What? Just the tip and you’re melting on me like that?” He mutters. “Y'make it too easy.”

He thrusts in again. Brutal. Sharp.

And he hums, like he’s thinking.

“This thing must really fuck with your brain.” He says. “The helmet. Can’t even see me, and you’re still making those noises like some whore.”

He pulls back again. Slower. Deliberate. Your cunt tightening around nothing.

Body twitching. Aching.

And he just stays there. Tip of his cock pressing against your entrance.

The silence makes you whimper. The denial makes you ache.

And Oscar…he stays completely still.

“Y’want it that bad?” His voice is lazy. Cruel in the calmest way. “God.” He lets out a sharp laugh.

You nod. Frantically. “Please…”

He clicks his tongue behind the visor.

“Y’hear that?” He mutters. “The sound your cunt makes every time I even think about shoving into you?”

You sob his name out, begging. Pleading.

“Need me to fuck you?” He grunts. “Need to be used by a helmet and a voice and my cock?”

He hisses softly at the movement of your hips. And then finally pushes back in. All the way.

He fucks into you deep. Bottoming out.

“Fuck…listen to that,” He groans. “Can barely move. So fuckin’ tight.”

He pulls out just a bit, and then sinks back in hard.

“That’s it,” He grunts. “Take it.”

And you do.

Mouth slack, head tipped back, clenching around him. And he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t speed up either.

Just fucks you through it. Lazily. Like he’s got all the time in the world.

“Y’gonna come?” His voice is heavy. Hushed. “Gonna soak me from this?”

And you sob out. Nodding.

You choke on a moan. “M’gonna come, Osc….fuck..I’m gonna..”

“Yeah,” He cuts you off. “Fuckin come for me.”

And you do.

It hits hard. Convulsing around him, vision blurred, skin hot as he fucks you through it. Hips snapping harder into you. Finally losing that lazy rhythm he had.

He buries himself so deep into you that you feel everything. His orgasm hitting him only moments later. Spilling into you with low curses as his helmet rests against you.

And he’s still buried inside of you. But he’s breathing too hard now.

“Fuck…” he mutters. “Fuck…I can’t…”

You blink up at him. Dazed.

“Need it off.” His voice is urgent.

And then he’s moving frantically with one hand. Shoving the helmet strap free. Fumbling with it.

The helmet slips to the floor with a thud. And suddenly his face is there. Flushed. Sweaty. Eyes blown wide. Desperate.

And he kisses you like he’s starving.

Tongue pushing past your lips like he couldn’t get deep enough. Fingers shaking as he threads them through your hair.

“Couldn’t breathe in there,” he mutters. Bringing his lips to your cheeks, to your jaw, your nose. “Fuck…wanted to kiss you so bad.”

You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. Shivering. Still full. Legs wrapped around his waist.

“Y’didn’t sound like you were losing it…” You whisper.

And he lets out a breathy laugh. Wrecked. “Yeah? Felt like my brain was mush in there.”

He thrusts forward once, slow. Deep. And your body twitches.

His hips move again. Another long stroke. Not hard. Just deep.

“Y’gonna keep me in all night, hm?” His teeth graze your jaw. “Just let me fuck into you all night?”

You lift your hips into his next thrust. Moaning.

He groans. Kisses you again. Lazily.

“Good.” He glances at the helmet for a brief second. A sinister look on his face.

His lips brush against your ear. Hot.

“Y’gonna wear it next time.” He states.

And your brows raise. “What?”

“The helmet,” He grins. Voice rough with need. “Wanna see you fall apart with that fuckin’ thing on. Wanna see you ride me.”

Your breath catches.

And he hums. Like he’s already imagining it.

“Bet you’d be all shy until I stuffed you full. Grinding down on me like some fuckin’ addict.” He teases.

And he laughs. Kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Next time, baby.” He says. Dragging his thumb against your lip. “Next time.”

taglist: @dfinchr @1-of-my-many-obsessions @saintlaurentcowgirls @hannainchains @landscar @rabittscar @ayap4paya @8junejpg1 @strawberrylov-er @olivialup @bigcatharmony @ninjambrich @skylyn-vais @Ellie-bellie-29 @s-luv183 @angelique-rose-valentine @megatrilss1885 @princesspiastri007 @ezumama @madicecream123 @ysavelelelel @margaritad1 @canyouseethesainz @marladelrey @number-0-iz @mollybxrn @saturnizma @angzedxtz (i think that's everyone that commented) xoxo

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fanfic #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fic #op81 x you #op81 x y/n #f1 fanfiction #f1 one shot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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cowgirlvi · 4 months ago

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mdni. unhygienic loser vi. sub virgin vi. mean fem-reader. degradation. semi-public sex. masturbation. size kink. based off this ask.

vi masterlist

wc; 1,034

⠀✦⠀loser!vi who is a disgusting, pathetic virgin—blowing half of her paycheck on porn subscriptions every month, chasing the illusion of intimacy while rotting away in her dirty, cum-stained bedsheets. she’ll masturbate for hours upon hours in the sanctuary of her bedroom, wasting the day away while she fucks herself senseless.

⠀✦⠀sometimes she fucks the handle of her hairbrush inside her pussy, but it’s never enough—not as big as the dildos her favorite cam girls are riding. she wants to be fucked until she loses all inhibitions, wants someone to come and destroy her little hole too. poor baby is so desperate for it; she’ll unintentionally edge herself for hours until she orgasms around her hairbrush, but she’s never fully satisfied. and her hairbrush is always drenched and disgusting by the time she’s finished—wiping old, dried flakes of cum onto her bedsheets.

⠀✦⠀loser!vi who likes to watch pornos of girls with grotesquely large, fake tits bouncing on monster-dildos, splitting their pussies open until their holes can no longer close. it’s the sleaziest genre of porn out there—made specifically for disgusting, perverted, incel men to jack-off to in their stale apartments. vi always feels dirty after watching those videos, because she doesn’t want to be like those men… but she can’t bring herself to stop.

⠀✦⠀after she makes herself squirt for the first time, she lays a beach towel on her bed so she can do it again and again. that towel has definitely seen better days—and maybe it’s because she’s sentimental or something, but she reuses the same dirty, old, crinkly towel from that day forward. every time she fingers her little hole until she squirts, her juices completely flood the sad beach towel, soaking through the ruined fabric until she soils her bedsheets too. and she just lays there afterwards, panting, in an outline of her own sweat.

⠀✦⠀loser!vi whose hairbrush and cumrag start smelling weird and sour very quickly, but she doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal yet. she does her laundry at least once a month, so she should be okay using the same towel for a couple more weeks, right?

⠀✦⠀and it’s incredibly inconvenient, the way her sensitive, big clit catches on the seam of her pants, even when she only moves the slightest bit. it’s particularly annoying while she’s at work, when she can feel large globs of cum leak out of her hole, drenching her underwear. but it’s fine—she can still manage to wear the same pair for another three days, at least.

⠀✦⠀when you come along as a new hire at her job, all sugary sweet and warm smiles, vi already knows she wants to lose her virginity to you—wants you to shove one of those huge, dragon-style dildos inside her pussy until she cries, cooing at her tenderly. so, she watches you when she should be working; committing the shape of your ass to her memory, then running off to the bathroom so she can play with her clit during her lunch hour. if she’s lucky, she’s able to make herself come twice before having to return to her cubicle—sitting in her sodden underwear for the rest of the day.

⠀✦⠀with as clumsy as she is, you catch her in the act one day, shoving your way into the stall while her pants are still around her ankles. vi is mortified, her pussy lips on display, caught jerking off her big clit between her thumb and index finger. and you have the gall to laugh at her. you—the sweet, sunny new-hire with an innocent demeanor—are snickering at her meanly, mocking her sordid act, saying such cruel things to her:

”no wonder you always smell funny. it’s ‘cause you don’t wash the dirty cum off your fingers.”

”you’re disgusting, vi. you know that right?”

”slutty fucking pussy. can’t even wait until you get home, huh?”

⠀✦⠀vi is like a dog caught with its tail between her legs. she interrupts your dirty, mocking, motorboat mouth, sheepishly asking you to leave while trying to pull her pants back up. only, you start laughing again, staring at her engorged, glistening clit, telling her how much of a loser she is, asking her if she’s always been such a desperate slut. her thighs are rubbing together and she doesn’t even realize it, not until she hears a loud, embarrassing schlick.

⠀✦⠀to vi’s surprise, you offer to help her, saying, “you’re too dumb to take care of such a needy pussy by yourself,” and vi keens, crowding into your space eagerly, making it painfully obvious what a pathetic, needy virgin she is. so, you dip the tip of your fingers inside her hole, lubricating two digits, and then teasingly swipe at her clit. it’s cute, the way she shivers and yelps at the slightest touch against her nub.

you can smell her pussy from here, the sour odor quickly filling the bathroom stall the more her juices leak from her hole. the scent is pungent, bordering on gross and foul, but something about how disgusting and pitiful vi is really gets you going, so you don’t mind—actually, you like it.

”fuck, fuck, you’re so—mmphh, mean!” she whimpers, humping against your fingers.

despite her words, vi feels the telltale fluttering in her core, the coil of heat that has been building in her cunt all day and spiked when she got caught. but, to her sheer horror and reluctant ecstasy, vi comes undone. her climax hits like a freight train, so intense and powerful that she doubles over, gripping onto your arm for comfort—the one that’s in between her legs, still flicking against her clit.

“aaughnn—! please, please, holy shit!”

her hips buck and jerk wildly as if she’s possessed by some unseen force. she’s wailing, the sound raw and primal, and then she abruptly squirts against your fingers, soaking both hers and your own work attire. through the haze of her orgasm, vi dimly registers the look of perverse fascination in your eyes, before collapsing into your chest.

you’re snickering at her again, asking, “what was that, ten seconds?” but she doesn’t hear you, ears full of static, just breathing against your neck.

what a sad little loser.

taglist; @marvelwomenarehot0 @marieeeluvsyou @mxchi-mxxn @el-amor-que-tu-quieres @jinxvex @teddybearbutch28 @stupendousbananasharkcop @nahcala @ellieslob @idontwannabehereatm @rhian88 @kyur1jinx @absfemme @blackdykegirlblogger @thatgrlnany @imfckngfantastic @addison12459 @f3ralpuppyg1rl @prettyprincess19 @saphhvi @vixxxxxxxen @jinxedbambi @dreamyraincloud @just4jinx @caninecutiez

(3/2/25)

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muntitled · 5 months ago

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Housewife Blues

Pairings: Terry Richmond x Housewife!Reader

Summary: Operation making a baby

Warnings: Language, Traditional Gender Roles, Controlling!Terry, Daddy Issues, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, DDLG, Daddy Kink, Controlled Orgasm, Unprotected Sex

A/n: Reader literally calls him Daddy. Please don't read this if that's not your vibe.

When your days weren't spent caring for your home as an active military wife, you engaged in reading, crocheting, baking and positively, actively avoiding the southern housewives that haunted your sunny cul-de-sac. Terry knew you'd much rather be doing things alone when he was at work.

This woman was intruding on your alone time.

"We've got to stick together!" the woman had said, her voice dripped like her honeycomb hair haloing her head. You wouldn't have willingly opened the front door had you known she would be lurking on the other side. The amicable smile that was on your face was cracking.

You initially thought it might be your husband, come to surprise you, knocking off from work earlier than usual. All throughout the day, you had been eager to see him.

He had left you in quite the state this morning.

"Faster," he had commanded in that mahogany veneered voice as he watched you try and fail to give yourself even a sliver of the kind of pleasure you were used to. He liked watching you struggle to take your fingers that were far too small, nothing like his large, skillful hands that would drill into your cunt when you needed it to.

"Why are you slowing down?" He enquired calmly, his head leaning against the headboard as he watched you try to please yourself in order please him to the best of your abilities.

You were seated between his legs with your legs spread open. The only contact established between you two was your ass pressed against that bulge straining his boxers. If Terry was a lesser man, he'd forget that he was trying to teach you a lesson about coming without permission. If he wasn't so deeply wired with self control he mightve said fuck the lesson and pulled his cock out to slide inside your weeping cunt.

But he wasn't a lesser man.

And no matter how hard he got, he loved watching you struggle to make yourself cum.

"M'sorry okay?" Gone was the trace of bratiness in your tone. All that was left was a little girl's pathetic whine and even that made him harder.

"M'sorry, I wont cum without your permission again-" you craned your head back. Your cloudy hair moved across his chest as you met his eyes, "Please help me," you hoped eyes displayed your desperation. Even if that weren't enough you knew your next words would be. "Please, Daddy-" he made a sharp intake of breath and you knew you had him.

"I need y-"

"I need to go to work-"

Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull as the man behind you moved to rid himself of you.

"What!? You're just going to leave like that?!"

"Who're you talking to?" He had asked so calmly, with his head tilted, corralling you into absolute silence.

"I-"

"Give it' till this afternoon," he wasn't a complete monster. He kissed you on your forehead, making you feel whole even for a split second before ridding himself of you once again.

"Can you be good for me until this afternoon?" You loved when he did that. You loved when he spoke down at you, as if you weren't sporting numerous degrees. As if you weren't a fully autonomous woman.

You liked the break he gave you from thinking.

"I can." You had said. Completely determined not to touch yourself until he arrived home.

All day, your brain had been fuzzy with thoughts of him. 'The dangers of being a housewife', your best friend had called it. He was consuming your every thought. Your mind was plagued by images of him inside you. Your mouth. Your cunt. Your mind.

You had no time for this. Not time for her.

"We?" You reiterate with your head slightly tilted as you lean against the door you were itching to slam shut in her face. "We should stick together?" You asked it as if hoping to make sense of how in what world a woman like her and a woman like you might ever be classified as 'we'. In front of you stood the seemingly perfect example of a nuclear housewife. Poodle puff golden hair, bright eerie smile and a body that could reproduce, seemingly at will.

"Yes!" The blonde woman said, "Us wives of veterans, we need to stick together-"

"Oh-" you were in the process of shaking your head, "I- don't really see myself as a product of Terry's-"

"I think we should have a little meet up tonight! We'll wrangle up the husbands and the kids-"

"I've got no kids," You said so curtly it could've given anyone a harsh chill.

"You and Terry have no children?" Judging by the look on her face you could swear you've just admitted to some form of bio terrorism.

"No kids?" She nodded gravely. Far too gravely. "H-How interesting, well. That's okay! I'll just call our babysitter- She's a lovely girl. Hopefully you find someone like her when you and Terry finally get to it-"

"When her and Terry get to what?" You hadn't even heard that roar of the truck easing up the driveway, your mind had been far too plagued with images of your childless marriage to really pay it any mind. But you're very much of him now as he appears behind that stupid little housewife.

Like Pavlov's dog, your body and all its machinations react to the sound of Terry's voice alone.

The gravel that seemed to roll in his esophagus. The way he dwarves the woman taking up your precious time. He had finally come home, but here you were, being occupied by your neighbors, dressed in nothing except a tight fitting night dress.

"Oh Terry!" The woman said, hoping to steal his attention, despite his eyes remaining fastened on you, "How lovely to finally meet! I was just telling your lovely wife we should all have a family meet up- she informed me that you two don't want kids?"

"Have-" You said so quickly, "I said we don't have kids. Not that we don't want any."

Without sparing the woman another glance, Terry strolls past her. His large bicep squeezes you into the frame of the door as he walks up behind you but you don't mind. In fact you suddenly feel calmer in his shadow. Your nerves are both calm and set alight as he moves his heavy arms around your waist.

"You explained yourself?" He bends down, his lips pressed against your ear, "You didn't need to do that." Your mouth stammered open as the woman by your doorstep pales.

"Well- I was just enquiring-" the woman attempts to salvage the situation but Terry’s already pulling you into the house.

"We'll come back to you about the dinner-”

“We could set a date right now and-”

“Excuse me,” Terry says, “We gotta go make that baby we apparently don't want-” you catch a final glimpse of that woman. Her mouth stammered open.

Terry's leading you towards the couch and you follow him, your fingers wrapped around his pinky. You swallow heavily watching his back muscles contract.

He's so big.

So in control.

It has your mind swimming in the pools of subspace as he lowers his frame to the couch. He pulls you into his lap and you yelp as the skirts of your dress fan around his lap.

For a moment all is quiet.

You evade eye contact and he tries to hide his smile as he forces you to interlock your hands behind his neck while his titan hands meet around your waist. You were quite literally trapped.

“That woman probably isn't going to talk to me again after that little display of yours,” you mumble lowly and he chuckles softly as he brings his nose to the crook of your neck and he breathes in.

“Try not to sound so pleased about that.”

“I have to make friends, Terry-” your breath stammers when you feel his pillow lips open up until he's pressing his tongue to the sensitive skin by your neck.

“Did you touch yourself?” He asks and despite his words holding that usual sliver of control, you can feel the slight eagerness to his actions. His steadily hardening cock straining through the front of his jeans and his restless hands moving underneath the skirt of your dress.

“No, you told me not to.”

“I've told you not to do many things,” he presses another kiss to your temple and you breathe in rather sharply when his fingers reach your inner thigh. “Sometimes you don't give a shit about what I say.”

“I promise I didn't touch myself,” it was becoming difficult to breathe. Your mind descended into lechery as his fingers inched up your thigh and you opened your legs slightly. “Honest.”

“Should I check the cameras?” Your body tensed ever so slightly and for someone as observant as Terry was trained to be, you knew he spotted it.

“We have cameras?”

“You think I'd just leave you in this hick ass town alone throughout the day and not have cameras in the house?”

“Oh- well-”

“Doesn't matter if you touched yourself, does it?” Your breathing swells as his fingers finally connect with the seat of your panties. He adjusts himself underneath you. You're absolutely soaked.

“No one can make you cum like I do,” He whispers, sliding your panties to the side, “Not even you.”

Your eyes grow hazy as his fingers begin to play with your aching cunt. It's everything you've needed and more.

“Say it-” You're teetering on the edge of a complete mental check-out as his fingers rub your clit. You squirm on top of him, searching for the seating position that would let you grind down on his hand but he keeps you still.

“Fuck-” he groans and for a split moment, you're nearly close.

Until he pulls his fingers away and you're once again whining and squirming with no sense of relief.

“You can't just-”

In a series of fluid and swift movements, Terry moves you off of his lap. Your back hits the couch as he hovers over you.

“what're you doing-”

“You thought I was kidding about making that baby?” He asks, so incredibly serious as he undoes his belt buckle and all you're able to do is lay supine and take whatever he gives

According to your family, everything about Terry Richmond had been a seemingly blood red flag: from his overtly frightening countenance, to his slightly unnerving marine status.

He is nothing but menacing as he hovers above you, parting your legs before reaching inside his jeans.

“You're squirming too much,” he says, “You want the cuffs?” Your throat dried with the recollection of the previous tike Terry had slapped his cuffs over your wrist. He had quite literally used your cunt to milk his cock and there was nothing you could do about it.

Despite loving the memory, and the sharp thrill it shoots straight to your clit, you wanna touch him, and you tell him as much.

He groans before lowering himself towards you.

“Shouldn't I take off-”

“Keep the dress on,” he lifts your hips before spreading your legs, for a moment he gets lost at what he sees There underneath all the pink frills and tulle.

“I'm going to get you pregnant,” he promises before lifting his eyes to meet yours, “Any objections?”

He's not smiling. His eyes are deep and hypnotic and you move your hips as if so incredibly needy to take anything he gives.

“No objections,” You shake your head and your words die in your throat when you feel your panties be swiped to the side once again. Terry's restraining himself. You can see it in the veins popping out of his neck.

You're not sure why.

“Green or Red?” His Eyes lift to meet you and you can feel the head of his cock press against your tight opening.

“Red,” you respond. “You can be rough- i just need y- FUCK-” he thrusts inside you, bottoming out almost immediately.

You didn't need any prep because you were already soaking through your underwear but your cunt still fought To bully his cock back out.

“Th-That hurts-” you grit your teeth as he begins to thrust shallowly inside you, despite having already bottom out. It's like he's searching for somewhere deeper to go and you both groan out loud at the thought.

“You’re so fucking wet, fuck-” He watched his cock slides back out completely before slamming it back in and you yelp at his brutal intrusion. It fulfills something ravenous in you, the way he lowers his hand to the side of your head before fucking into you with wreckless abandon.

“So fucking tight-”

“Fuckyoursobig-” your eyes are hollow and Terry knows from your slurred speech that you were fully in subspace.

“Shit- you tryna make me cum already, huh?”

Your bottom lips portudes and you look up at him, nodding dumbly, “You wanna be a good slut for your Daddy, don't you?”

The second he locks his thick palm around your throat, and you wear his hand like a collar, you're absolutely done for. Your hips lift to meet his thrusts and your tongue lolls out of your mouth.

“Such a fucking slut- shit-”

“Yo-Yours,” you moan, “Your slut-”

He immediately stills his hips before cursing aloud. Terry's lips crash down onto yours. A hungry kiss you weren't expecting but eagerly reciprocate.

“My pretty slut,” he nods his head in affirmation. patting down your head as if you always knew what to say. “That's right, baby.” You're bathed in the praise. You fucking absorbed it. “That's right, Clever Girl-”

“Oh my God, Daddy- please,” you lift your hips, urging him to continue drilling into you.

“You're such a good girl for me-” he continues to affirm as his hips move once more, “You gonna take my cun, aren't you, Pretty Girl? You gonna make Daddy proud and give him a baby-”

“Terry, ohmygod-” you can feel your cunt spasming around his cock.

“Ask.” He can see you teetering on the edge but his voice is dark and commanding. “You know better.” He warns. “Ask.”

“Please-” you search to hold onto something, anything that would stop you for cumming outright on your husband's cock, “Please let me cum, oh my god-”

He speeds up his own thrusts. Unbeknownst to you, your eagerness to take him, your whining and begging had him twitching inside you. It's like you became a vessel of his pleasure alone. You were good at that. You were good at making him the center of your universe.

“Cum for me, Pretty Girl.” It's all it takes for you to let yourself go completely. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Terry squeezes your throat, sending you flying amongst the clouds. You curse and scream and your cunt is suffocating his cock until he can't handle it anymore.

“Gonna cum,” he affirms, his voice tense and his muscles tight, “Gonna cum so fucking hard inside my Pretty Girl-” even he had his limits. Soon he wasn't able to say anything. His words bled into uncontrollable groans as he trusted a steady stream of cum inside you.

You're patting down on his tense muscles, urging him to part with every single drop.

You're full.

So utterly full it has you seeing stars.

“That ought'a do it.” He says.

He’s nice Terry again.

#terry richmond #terry richmond x reader #terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond smut #rebel ridge #rebel ridge smut #rebel ridge fanfiction #aaron pierre #aaron pierre x reader #aaron pierre x black reader

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yanderenightmare · 8 months ago

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♡ TW: noncon, gangbang, elf-reader, orc captors, racism between orcs and elves, captive reader, enslavement, piss drinking, mindbreak, mentioned toe-sucking and rimming, navigating cultural differences

♡ FEM reader

♡ P1: THE PILLORY

The orc bandits sold your fellow elves off like slaves, but the commander ended up saving you for himself.

You’d been out of it throughout the ordeal. Already with the feeling of being numb, dumb, and tingly from the top of your crown down to the tips of your toes, you’d soon been overcome with fever as if taken by sickness—or withdrawal. Kept warm in the lap of your captor, you could barely keep your eyes open and must have passed out again—all to the sound of your troop's despair as they were bid on individually and dragged off by different buyers, all adorned collars and chains.

When you woke up again, whatever had you so enthralled and pliant was gone, leaving you feeling much like those times you’d woken from drinking more than your limit—along with a sore ache spanning your entire body, leaving you bedridden.

Lying there, on a massive fur pelt in a fire-heated tent with a pair of shackles upon your ankles, you decide against your former poor judgment of making demands—this time, staying still and deadly silent, causing no fuss and voicing no complaint in petrified fear of the heavyweight resting at your back, breathing soundly like a beast in hibernation.

You still don’t understand what happened—still don’t understand what got into you—why did you act that way? It was as if you’d completely lost your mind—hijacked by something unholy and depraved—something vile. You’d been possessed—you must have been! To be bred by those monsters, swallow their semen—drink their piss. Thinking about it, the shock of it all cancels out the disgust. How could you have done all that? Sure, you were forced, but you could swear… somewhere halfway through, you started to enjoy it.

“Why so quiet, elf-pet?”

He must have felt the shift in your breathing. Beasts of war sleep with one eye open, after all. Still, you don’t answer—you don’t move a muscle. Stiff and lifeless, you remain, even as his hand—the one dwarfing your hip—slides south.

"Afraid to wake me?"

You just swallow thickly with a whimper as his thick orc finger, weathered by labor and battle, pets your naked sex, rubbing your clit before splitting the lips and playing with the poorly treated hole beneath it.

“Where’d all that fight go, hm?” he rumbles at your stillness, amused by it as he prods your entrance and pulls your bottom against his bulge. “Don’t tell me I fucked it all gone…”

All you do is quake and tremor, even as his digit breaks through and starts prepping you—slipping in and out slowly, drawing slick as if your cunt was already trained to do so.

His pleased hum rumbles at your back, wreaking your bones—making you feel fickle like a sprout.

“Elves make such good pets once you tame them,” he states, chuckling. “You love cock and cum so much it makes you dumb—a single taste of it and even the priggish of elves like you turn into filthy little whores hungry for more.”

You feel him fatten behind you—clenching your thighs as it swells up against your rear.

His arm, the one beneath your head you’d been resting on like a pillow, coils around your neck and pulls you back snugly against him.

“Don’t worry, elf-pet—” he grins, teeth by your ear in heated words, “I’ll keep feeding you good and full.”

And that's how it goes. Anytime you sober up, he fucks you silly—well and truly silly—silly in the way it makes you indiscriminately slurp his cum off the ground and suck his toes and lick his ass and squeal with joy as he swarms your womb with piss, “Ah feels so nice and warm inside—I love being master’s piss-bucket! Thank you!”

It’s been that way for months now.

He’s taken to calling you Putty because of how dumb and malleable you’ve become, eager to do anything he says, just to please. It disgusted you in the beginning, but you’ve since learned to accept the weakness of your nature—if only for the sake of survival and your own sanity.

There’s no point in beating yourself up about it—not in this godforsaken part of the world where everyone seems out to do it for you.

You’d known orcs were soulless creatures, but truly, nothing could have prepared you for their level of depravity. If you could, you’d stay hidden inside the tent and never expose yourself to the horrors outside—already sated with those you have to endure within its thin drapes. But unfortunately, your master enjoys bringing you with him wherever he goes.

Many orcs do, you’ve come to understand. They like parading their slaves, mostly fae-folk like you, around—all dressed skimpily, all with collars—nymphs and fairies often with their wings clipped and elves with their heads shaved in shame.

Today, you’re out walking the market—you, with your leash on, and him, with his fist tugging it close behind him.

He’s looking at weapons and armor for the most part and the odd toy or article for you. He likes keeping you pretty, in jewelry and sheer silks that let everyone admire what he has warming his bed.

Since becoming his slave, he’s taken you to get plenty of piercings and markings. You can’t read their scripture, but he’s told you what he’s marked on your pretty skin several times. His name, of which you’re not allowed to speak, paired with his title as your direct master, as well as his guild’s seal, stating their ownership of you—all in three intricate patterns down your right arm. So, even if you ever do get home, you’ll never be able to wash him off. Another train of patterns on your left arm shows your status as a slave and your worth if anyone but your master were to damage or kill you accidentally.

For all their cruelty—you’re surprised by their level of organization. Though you don’t agree with it, you can at least admit that what they have is some variation of civilization—as supremacist as it is. But then again, elves are much the same—always thinking themselves better than everything, even other groups of fae.

It’s funny, but in a way, you’re almost convinced this is divine justice—the gods punishing you for your false sense of superiority by forcing you to live your life in suffering as an orc’s slave.

It’s a trial—your last chance at redemption before death. Fulfill it, and heaven will be waiting for you with open arms. Yes, that must be it.

The crowd becomes thicker near the end of the market street. It seems there’s an ongoing roadside show that many are keen on watching. You hear the jeers and hollers, the oos and ahs, and coming out empty-handed from the market trip, it seems the commotion is enough to pique your master’s interest enough to make him battle his way through to the front with you in toe just behind him—paying no mind to how members of the crowd paw at you.

One is even so brazen to spit on your chest. But it comes as no shock—nor does your master’s indifference. In orc culture, all orcs are masters and can do what they want to any and all slaves with respect to their direct master. In fact, it’s not uncommon to see masters chain their slaves up like mutts in the street—free for all to have a go.

Actually, you can bet that’s what gathered this flock.

And sure enough, you’re spot on.

Three fellow fae are on display up on the stage, naked and drenched in cum and sweat and other fluids—all made fully dumb by it.

You’ve theorized why over the months of being subjected to it and could only come up with one sound theory to explain it. Orc fluids must contain strong aphrodisiac properties, maybe even other substances that make their victims so agreeable—a type of natural incentive, possibly to make breeding more plausible and easy for a race so ugly.

Yes, that must be it. It’s the only thing that could make any sense of the heart-eyes and love-cries you witness on all your otherwise dignified fellow fae.

One of them is folded between two orcs, desperately sucking on one of their tongues with her eyes closed in bliss, taking both their cocks in both her holes. It’s hard feeling sorry for her when she looks so happy, but you know the situation yourself—it’s like your mind’s been replaced by a fluffy cloud, and all you can think to wish for is to be taken higher.

Another girl is on her knees, ass up and head down—with a heavy foot placed on top of her cheek, squishing her pretty face against the wooden stage—tongue out and eyes crossed as he fucks her sloppy cunt with his whole entire fist. The poor girl is so mindbroken she just giggles with a smile, thighs shivering in delight as she squirts out a puddle beneath her.

The orc pulls his fist out like pkug, making more liquid stream, giveen her ass a hard slap—as if to say atta girl—before he starts working on screwing his knuckles inside her butt next.

The last girl is placed on her back on a beam—ankles suspended in the air, tied tightly to two poles—arms tied together under the bench. She’s also got two of them having their fun with her—one in each end in a spitroast.

You’ve been in her position once—shared like a piece of meat—stuffed overfull with no freedom to spare. You wonder if she’d spoken out of place, too.

The orc by her head tugs his cock in his fist, standing over her head, letting her lick the sweat off his balls before dropping his length on her chest, bunching her tits and fucking through them with a groan, letting his balls swing and drag over her pretty face. But it’s not long before he steps back and puts his shaft to her lips, holding her throat in a light grip as she sweetly teases his dickhole with the tip of her tongue. When he gives her a firmer squeeze, she obediently widens her mouth, gaping to receive the head.

The girl holds it in her mouth like you do for your master, trying your best to suck but only ever managing to drool around it like a roasted pig with an apple between its teeth. Oh, but then something impossible happens.

You swear it’s like watching a circus act—you look on in horror and awe—unable to grasp it as more of the orc’s meaty member disappears down the girl’s swallow—one girthy inch at a time. You watch her throat swell, eyes wide in disbelief as her pipe blows out to accommodate the size, letting it sink inside all the way through down to the hilt.

The audience whistle and shout at her performance—all impressed as the two orcs fuck her on time with each other—out, then all the way in. And honestly, you’re one of them. Blinking at the display, you can barely trust your eyes—the two cocks must be kissing each other's tips inside her.

“What good whores,” your master mumbles at your side, swinging you against his chest with a grip on your jaw, making you face the scene.

“You see that, Putty,” he gruffs and points at the one you’d already been watching, wide-eyed and drop-jawed. “One day soon, you’re gonna be just like that.”

You dont know why, but watching the filthy scene makes your gut gurgle. How can you be hungry at a time like this?

“A perfect throat-sleeve for me. So deep, I can finally touch your guts from both ends and fill your belly just how you like.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Enji, AFO ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Toji, Kenjaku ♡ HxH – Uvogin

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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oreo-creampies · 3 months ago

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𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Light gun play, begging, edging, squirting, Daddy/mama (toji’s) thumb in the ass, degradation/praise, gangbang, double penetration/triple penetration, satoru has three clones and you have three holes, suguru and satoru jerk each other off watching you, edging, hentai monster cock double dick logic you shouldn’t question, size kink, huge true form sukuna, very lightly bratty!reader (Sukuna’s), queen of succubus!reader (Sukuna’s), light pain kink, threesome, accidentally cumming, overstimulation, creative use of Satoru’s clones

Oreo: couldn’t get this thought outta my head 🫠 / @zoyakuna is holding me hostage till I post it 💀

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

Toji’s fat head tugging on your tight, sloppy wet cunt. “Flithy whores like you gotta earn the right to cum. Beg let me hear how badly you need my cock.” The gun clicks when he cocks it. Clenching his fat cock head when the cool steel touches the side of your head.

He slaps your ass, slamming his cock in when you cry, twisting the sound into a loud moan. “Fuck fuck fuck that feels so good! Please split me open with your fat cock I need to cum on your cock!” You’re getting off on the puffiness of his veins, the softness of his skin constrasting how hard he is.

He grabs a handful of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart, spitting. Smearing it with his finger on your tight hole with his thick thumb. “Please daddy! Please please! I wanna cum! Wanna cum! Only you can make me cum so hard I forget my name. Please.” Toji slowly pushes his thick thumb into your tight ass.

You look so beautiful taking his fat cock with your sweet little cunt. Clenching him painfully tight. “You feel so fuckinm good! Nnn mama that’s it take Daddy’s cock in your throbbing little cunt. Squeeze me like that.” Your cunt is squeching, toes curling, thighs trembling, gripping the sheets tighter.

Pushing your hips back he stops moving. “Wanna use my cock like a toy? Fuck me mama fuck your tight little cunt into a gapping mess on Daddy’s fat cock.” Backing your ass up, taking Toji’s cock in quick, long strokes.

Having a cock inside you never felt so good before. The weight of his heavy cock, his head nudging your cervix is perfectly too much. “Nn fuck me Toji. How can you reach that deep! Nnn you have such a big cock don't wanna stop! Want you to break my cunt, fill me full of cum.” Looking back at him, he’s beautiful with flushed cheeks, dark hair hanging into passionate forest green eyes. “Please lemme cum! Please daddy!”

Clenching Toji’s thick cock, bounce your hips faster. He squeezing your hips, his jaw dropping, “Nnn daddy got a big cock huh? I'm stretching your soft little wet cunt out?” Taking his fat cock into your squechling cunt faster.

Getting off on how you’re riding Toji’s cock, backing your ass up on him moaning like a whore. “Ya feel too good! Nnn wanna feel you cum! Lemme feel your beautiful slutty tight cunt gush on my cock.” The gun trembles in his hand, pulling it away from your head.

Trailing the tip of the barrel along your spine. Squeezing your cheek, his thumb still buried in ass, Toji pulls your hips back to meet his thrusts. You’re gushing thick warm cum on his fat, being cock, soaking his balls.

Your mind blank, jaw slacked, body trembling, pussy clenching, spasming. Toji doesn't stop, smacking your ass with the side of the gun, then dropping it on the bed. Propping his foot up in the edge, grabbing your hair yanking your head back fucking his big cock into your faster.

“Wanna fuck! Wanna! Please! Daddy! Wanna keep taking your fat cock nnn ahh nnn fuck I can feel your veins pulsing! You’re cum is gonna be so warm in my cunt. Wanna feel your hot cum! Please cum in me!” His large balls are slapping your cunt.

“Think cummin’ is gonna stop me? Nah lil mama ya begged to cum, I'm not stopping till I'm sure she’s broken and won’t cum for me anymore.” Letting go of your hair, gliding his thumb out of your ass, spitting on your tight hole. You can take it can't ya?” He glides a thick finger into your ass.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 & 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

Satoru and Suguru jerk each other off watching Satoru’s clones fuck every one of your sloppy wet holes. Thick cum is covering your beautiful tits, smeared along your soft thighs.

The clone beneath you spreading your thighs apart for the one above. Your wrist pinned to the bed by the clone fucking your mouth. Unable to move, you’re a needy slut getting fucked for their entertainment.

Satoru moans, enjoying watching his clones make a wreck of his friend. “This is so much better than watching porn. Fuck look at our new pathetic little slut.” Satoru swirls his hand along Suguru’s thicker cock. Jerking his hips when Suguru speeds his hand up, forcing on pumping right below Satoru’s head, getting him so close to cumming he’s about to bust on Suguru’s fist.

“I think we broke her already and she hasn't even cummed.” Satoru glides his cock out with a pop, giving his cock a couple of quick pumps cumming on your face. Smearing it by setting his large balls on your face, pinch your nipple, tugging on it.

Whining, trying to catch your breath. The clone vanishes, the cum remaining on your face, with your hands free from the clone kneeling on them. “Gonna take more than that, I wanna cum. Please!” Satoru bottoms out of your needy cunt, the clone beneath him steadily fucking your ass.

His long being cock is the perfect thickness for your ass. You’re so needy, too worked up, despite the lack of attention to your cunt in couple more strokes you might cum from getting your ass fucked. Then Satoru stops, leaving your wanting with your ass stuffed full of cock.

He sits up and moves to the edge of the bed. Standing up, holding your legs apart. You’re watching them jerk each other off, they’re two beautiful muscular men sitting beside each other, stroking each other's veiny hard cocks. Suguru’s is heavy enough he droops when Satoru’s hand reaches the bottom of Suguru’s thick cock.

“Rub your cocks together inside me. Please I soak your cocks with my cum.” Suguru glances down at Satoru’s messy cock. His head getting redder the longer he keeps from cumming. Suguru stops cupping Satoru’s pale balls, watching his cock twitch, lightly bouncing up. The veins pulsing, he was closer than you when Satoru’s clone bottomed out of your cunt.

The clone sits down and vanishes, you hit the bed. Suguru looks at you with a cocky, hungry smirk, letting go of Satoru’s balls. Satoru rubs his thumb over Suguru’s cock head, swiping off his pre cum. Leaning over and kissing Suguru’s cheek.

Satoru sets his attention back onto you. You spread your legs, showing your sloppy wet cunt, sinking a finger into your hot cunt. It’s not enough, after being stuffed full and covered in cum. “Please lemme cum, I don't think I take it anymore. My clit ‘s throbbing please!” Suguru crooks his finger, standing up, your knees buckle, and before you can hit the floor Satoru grabs your neck.

Bending down, holding you in place by your neck, he grabs your thigh, lifting your up. Stepping away from the bed to give Suguru space to get behind you. He grabs Satoru’s cock lining him up, Satoru slams you down on his cock.

Smiling, moaning “Please please wanna cum, nnn feeling your head so deep. I can’y believe I got your cock inside me, nnn I feel like a whore.” Wrapping your arm around his broad shoulders slipping your fingers into Satoru’s soft fluffy hair.

Suguru grabs your hair, lining his cock up with your stuffed cunt, nudging his thicker head in. Your eyes widen, your cunt struggling to take him. “Nnn fuck you’re makin’ her sloppy wet cunt tighter.” Satoru slowly glides his cock, moaning, spitting on your cum covered face. Grabbing your jaw, smearing his along your cheek.

“You’re nothing but a cum covered needy little whore whose greatest weakness is getting how badly she needs to get her little cunt stuffed. That’s why you almost got hurt isn't it? You were too busy checking Suguru and I out thinking about our cock while you were supposed to be working.” His head rubbing your sweet spot causing the sweet burning ache from getting stretched to wide to quickly fade away.

“Yes!!! You sat on their face it wasn't fair! Suguru’s shirt got ripped and my cunt was dripping. I couldn't think straight.” They time their pace, stroking each other cocks inside of your. Pounding your tight, sloppy wet cunt into a mess.

Satoru nudges your lips with his thumb, you can taste Suguru’s pre cum. “I don't think she deserve to cum after how worried she got us. Ya could have told us what a whore you are for us. We could have taken care of this needy cunt of your’s before work.” Suguru lets go of your hair, leaning to kiss Satoru, pressing your face into Satoru’s hard pecs.

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Digging your nails into Sukuna’s thick pecs, clenching nothing when he glides his cock out. Your clit twitches from the lack of intense stimulation. You’re too empty needing his thick cocks splitting you open.

Crying in frustration, “Nnn stop teasin’ make me cum with your fat cocks!” Sukuna grabs your neck cutting off your needy whines. Gliding off his fat, veiny cocks sliding out with a soft wet pop.

Narrowing his hungry, beautiful crimson eyes. “What was that?” Tilting his head to the side, his cocky smirk making your cunt throb. Fuck Sukuna’s so beautiful looking down at you. The dark ink accentuates his angular jawline.

“You think you’re in a position to demand shit from me?” He slaps your cunt, jerking your legs shut from the sharp sting. He yanks your legs back open. “Should’ve been a good cock sleeve moan and take my cock like a good whore.” Another harsh slap, his hands bites your thighs.

Failing to squirm, Sukuna’s grasp getting tighter, teeth sinking in deeper. The sweet pain pooling in your needy cunt, clenching around nothing wishing you were stuffed full again. “You slutty little cunt would’ve cummed eventually. My cocks are too good for you not too.” You would cry if not for his large hand crushing your neck.

Lowering you onto his monstrously thick cock. You can’t get over how his head fat enough to cover your whole sloppy cunt. Sukuna rubs your soft lips and sensitive clit with gentle swipes.

You love how enormous Sukuna is in his true form. He’s a ten feet tall, well sculpted beautiful muscular monster with two cocks he’s obsessed with stuffing in your cunt. With a lust that tastes sweet n’ spicy. Y

The mouths on his hands suck their aching bites. Gliding his hands to your hips, biting down, sinking his fingers into the soft squishy crease of your hips.

Holding both cocks together, nudging your soft, sloppy wet cunt. “Nn fuck you got the tightest sloppiest cunt, ‘sooo fuckin’ good too bad you can’t cum tonight.” Licking your clit with the thick tongue from his stomach.

Loosening his grasp on your neck, grabbing your hair, yanking your head back. Bouncing you faster faster, his fat head rubs your sweet spot with every quick, rough strokes. Flicking your clit faster, you’re getting so close too quickly, it build up alone is becoming too much.

Spasming around him, your eyes watering. “I really wanna cum! I'm sorry! I didn't mean for it to sound like I was demanding. You’re cocks always feel good n’ you always make me cum the hardest! Please! Please! I’m sorry! Please! Please! I’ll be good!” He glides you off his cocks, pulling his tongue away from your clit.

Crying, “I’m sorry my king, I’ll take whatever punishment you see fit. Nnn!” Turning you around, holding you to his chest by a firm grasp on your neck. Barely letting you breath, your body becoming heavy and tingly from the restriction of air.

It didn’t matter if you could move, Sukuna could fuck you on his cock like a flesh light.

Looking into the mirror, your small in the grasp of a insatiable King of hell. Reaching up, he leans down letting you grab his thick black horn twisting out of his dark hair. “That it, just for that if make it till sunrise I’ll let you squirt on my face. If your subjects saw their great Queen now. A pathetic whore who begs for my cocks.” Your eyes widen as your small hole takes Sukuna’s veiny, fat cocks.

You’re face painted with a beautiful expression of ecstasy. You’re so worked up, too sensitive. Holding a hand over your clit, stroking it with a warm tongue. Tightening your grasp on his horn Sukuna moans, his hips shuttering.

Whining, “Gonnnnnaaaa!” You’re squirting before either of you can realize how close you are. “Couldn’t handle! You’re cocks! Too! Too! Too! Good! Sorry! I’m sorry!” He doesn’t bother stopping, fucking you roughly through your intense high as punishment.

Your body trembling, eyes rolling back, toes curling and cunt squelching. “Stupid fuckin’ whore, I didn’t tell you to cum.” Pinching your sensitive clit, ruining the intense high from cumming so hard. “Look like I’ll have to take my time breaking you.”

Oreo’s m.list

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carnalcrows · 4 days ago

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All that we leave behind

pairing: gangster ! male OC x male reader [faceclaim]

synopsis: You take a job. It goes to hell. Suddenly you’re bleeding, locked up, and wondering if your daughter will forget the sound of your voice. Then he shows up. Not with lawyers. Not with mercy. With fists, fury, and a plan that involves you, him, and handcuffs. You should hate him. You should run. Instead, you end up in his car, half-naked and shaking for reasons that aren't entirely fear.

You're free now. Kind of.

But someone’s watching. And they know your kid's name.

content warnings: 18+, bottom male reader, violence, blood/gore aftermath, imprisonment, trauma, emotional distress, power imbalance, mafia themes, handcuffs, mild voyeuristic implication (guards witnessing), handjob (reader receiving), p in a, overstimulation, slight dubcon (stress-induced), light darcyphilia, emotional manipulation, Felix being terrifyingly calm, implied threat to child, enemy gang foreshadowing.

word count: 2.4k [pt 1 here]

You wake up to the sound of your daughter humming.

It’s a tuneless thing, low and content, drifting in from the living room—something she must’ve picked up from cartoons or daycare. Your eyes open slowly. Dry. Your body feels like it was chewed up and spat out by something mean.

Sunlight filters in through the curtains. Too soft. Too normal.

You sit up, and everything aches. There’s dried blood under your nails. Not yours. You should shower. You should move.

But instead, you just sit there. Listening to Nora hum.

Eventually, she calls for you. “Daaaad. I can’t reach the peanut butter!”

You scrape yourself off the bed. Pull on clean clothes that still smell like detergent. Walk barefoot to the kitchen, pretending your legs don’t tremble under you.

She’s standing on her step-stool, arms outstretched like she’s reaching for the moon. Her pyjamas are wrinkled and her curls are everywhere, and when you lift her into your arms, she giggles like everything’s fine.

You make toast and slice bananas. She chatters about some picture she drew at Zia’s yesterday. You nod. Smile where appropriate. Laugh, even.

There’s a stack of folded laundry on the table that you don’t remember folding. Your phone buzzes once.

Felix. You don’t check it.

“You look tired,” Nora says around a mouthful of banana. “Did you fight the monsters last night?”

You freeze.

Just for a second. Long enough for her to blink at you, then giggle again, like she’s only teasing. Like she has no idea what you did with your hands last night. What you let Felix do with his.

“Yeah,” you say finally, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “Yeah, baby. I fought ‘em all off.”

“Good,” she says, swinging her legs. “Then they won’t come here, right?”

You want to promise her that. You want to lie.

But outside the window, you spot a black car parked across the street. New. Too clean.

Your phone buzzes again.

This time, you check it.

Felix: Your next assignment will be cleaner. Less blood, more control. You’ll need to be dressed by 10. I’ll send someone.

You stare at the message for a long time.

Then you delete it. And wipe peanut butter off Nora’s cheek.

✧✧✧

You knew it would get messy. You didn’t think it’d end in cuffs.

The job sounded simple enough. A warehouse, a warning, and rough up a guy who’d been skimming off Felix’s money. You’d done worse things for less reason. This time, though… something went wrong.

Too many people inside. Someone pulled a gun. You saw red, then blood. Then cops.

You were still panting, knuckles split and bruised, when they slammed you onto the hood of a cop car. Felix wasn’t there. He never showed.

The precinct didn’t know who you worked for. Not really. They tossed you in a holding cell like you were nothing more than some cracked-out muscle for hire. You said nothing. Not about Felix. Not about Nora. Not even when they tried to bait it out of you.

Your hands were cuffed behind your back for hours. Your shoulder ached from where someone had clocked you with a bat. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain was settling in. You were starting to wonder if maybe this was it.

Then he arrived.

Not with lawyers. Not with bribes.

Felix walked into that goddamn prison in a pair of handcuffs—escorted in like he was just another perp. Like he belonged there.

He didn’t look at you right away. He sat across the cell, calm. Controlled. But when the guards left, when the door clanged shut behind them, his voice was low and furious:

“What the fuck did they do to you?”

✧✧✧

You didn’t speak to him the first day.

He was put in the same cell—whether by coincidence or something far more deliberate, you didn’t know—but he didn’t say a word when the bars shut behind him. Just sat on the opposite bench and looked at the wall. Not at you. Not at your bruised face. Not even when you muttered, “You’re a goddamn lunatic.”

On day two, he finally broke the silence.

“Nora’s fine.”

You didn’t answer at first. You weren’t sure you believed him. He looked too calm. Too clean.

“She’s with Claudia,” he added. “One of my best people. She likes her. Drew her a picture of a unicorn yesterday. It’s hanging on the fridge.”

You clenched your jaw and stared at the cracks in the cement floor.

“You could’ve sent someone,” you muttered. “Didn’t have to get yourself locked up.”

Felix didn’t blink. “No one touches what’s mine.”

You weren’t sure if he meant your daughter or you. You weren’t sure which one scared you more.

✧✧✧

By now, you'd memorised the rhythms of the place. The morning announcements. The guards’ footsteps. The shift changes. The guy in Cell 14 who didn’t stop coughing. The way Felix didn’t sleep, just leaned back with his arms folded, eyes half-shut, but always listening.

You were starting to piece it together—how some of the guards looked at him. Not like a prisoner. Like a storm waiting to happen.

“So what’s the plan?” you asked finally, low and quiet. “You gonna break us out with your mind? Or are your guys tunnelling through the sewer system?”

Felix smiled, a soft, humourless curve of his lips.

“I don’t need a sewer. I already own half the staff.”

That wasn’t a metaphor. You believed him.

Still, you asked the one question that had been gnawing at you:

“Why didn’t you come in with your people? Why… this? You walking in here like a goddamn martyr?”

His eyes finally met yours. Sharp. Dark. Unreadable.

“Because I don’t trust anyone else with you.”

✧✧✧

It happened after dinner on the third day.

A guard stopped by your cell with two pairs of handcuffs and a clipboard.

“Cellmate transfer,” he muttered. “You’re being moved together for the night. Orders from above.”

You raised a brow. Felix said nothing, just stood when the cell door slid open.

The guard—bald, tattooed fingers—clicked one cuff onto your wrist, then reached for Felix and snapped the second half onto him. Deliberate. Tight.

Felix didn’t even flinch. But he gave the guy a look— a nod.

The guard slipped you a folded scrap of paper as he left. No one noticed.

You waited until the footsteps faded.

Unfolded the paper. Two words.

Get ready.

✧✧✧

You were moved to a different part of the prison that night. Fewer eyes. More shadows.

Felix hadn’t said much since the cuffs locked the two of you together. Just that slight tug of the wrist every now and then, guiding you down hallways, across the yard, keeping you close without asking. The skin of his wrist brushed yours every few steps. You hated how steady he felt. Like he was used to this.

The paper said “get ready,” but it didn’t say when.

You got your answer after lights-out.

A clatter of metal. A yell.

Then a fist hit your jaw.

You didn’t even see who threw it—some meathead with a busted lip and too many tattoos. He’d been eyeing you since day one. But tonight, he moved like he had permission.

Your body slammed against the wall with the force of the hit, and the only thing keeping you upright was the sharp jerk of the cuff as Felix pulled you back to your feet.

“Mine,” Felix growled. Just one word. Not even loud.

Then his fist met the guy’s face.

Bone cracked.

The next second? All hell broke loose.

The brawl spread like wildfire—fights erupting between inmates, guards shouting, bodies flying. Someone tackled a guard. Alarms started blaring. Felix never let go of your wrist.

“Move,” he said, voice deadly calm, yanking you through the chaos.

You were still dazed—someone else's blood on your face, yours or theirs, you didn’t know—but your legs listened. His grip was firm and unyielding, dragging you through the stampede with surgical precision.

Down one corridor. Around a bend. He knew exactly where to go.

“This way,” he said, ducking into a side door kicked half open. Inside, a guard already lay unconscious, keys still hanging from his belt.

Felix grabbed them without breaking stride.

You blinked. “Wait, he’s not—?”

“One of mine,” he said simply.

Of course he was.

✧✧✧

It wasn’t glamorous. Not some secret hatch in the wall or dramatic rooftop leap. Just a utility tunnel, half-flooded, stinking of rust and mildew. Felix shoved the door open with his shoulder, pulling you through as water sloshed around your ankles.

The cuffs dug into your skin every time you stumbled, and he didn’t stop moving—not until you both reached the end of the tunnel and emerged into open air.

A black car waited.

Engine running.

“Get in,” Felix said, unlocking the cuffs with the stolen key. He caught your wrist as he did, his touch firm but careful. He didn’t say anything about the bruise forming beneath the metal. Just helped you into the backseat like nothing about the past hour had happened.

You didn’t ask who was driving.

You didn’t ask where you were going.

You just sat there, adrenaline flooding your bloodstream, your ears ringing, your hands stained with someone else’s blood. You felt like you were coming apart at the seams.

Felix sat beside you. Close. Too close.

And then his hand slid over your thigh.

“Breathe,” he said.

You did. Barely.

“Good,” he said, voice lower now, sliding into something darker. “Because I need to check something…”

✧✧✧

The car doors shut like a vault locking behind you.

The night was still ringing in your ears—fists slamming into flesh, your own or someone else’s, the way the cuffs had bitten bone-deep, the coppery tang of blood clinging to your teeth.

You didn’t speak. Neither did Felix.

He drove like he wasn’t in a hurry but knew exactly where to go. His hand rested too casually on the wheel, like he hadn’t just broken you out of prison with his bare fists.

The silence stretched. You were still bleeding, somewhere. Or maybe not. Hard to tell anymore.

Then—

“I told you I’d get you out,” he said. Calm. Matter-of-fact. Like none of it was personal. “Didn’t say you’d be okay after.”

You didn’t answer.

You didn’t need to.

He pulled into an alley. Cut the lights. The car’s engine ticked into silence.

And then—his hands. On you. Tugging. Pulling you over the console. Until you were in his lap, straddling his thighs, chest to chest.

Your voice was hoarse. “What the hell are you—”

“You’re not okay,” he murmured, already working open your belt. “I’m going to fix that.”

You could’ve stopped him.

Maybe.

But then his mouth was against your neck, his breath hot and steady, one hand spreading you open like he’d done it before. Like he’d imagined it. Dreamed it. Practised it in his head a hundred times, waiting for this moment.

The first push of him inside you punched the breath out of your lungs.

Not gentle. Not rough. Just inevitable.

You choked on your own voice, grabbed at his jacket like it could anchor you to something real.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, low and wrecked. “Take it. You can take it.”

He kept one hand on your hip, guiding every grind of your body against his, the other hand pressed flat to your back like he didn’t trust you to stay.

You moved with him. Or maybe he moved you.

It was all too much and not enough, and the pain bled into pleasure somewhere along the way. Something in you cracked. Came loose. Maybe it was trust. Maybe it was a survival instinct.

You came first, biting down on his collar to stay quiet.

Felix followed with a grunt, deep and low against your throat, still buried inside you when his grip loosened.

For a while, neither of you moved.

Just the sound of your breathing.

His hand on your back.

Your blood on his shirt.

And somewhere, far away, the question that would haunt you later:

What the fuck did you just let him do?

✧✧✧

You slept like the dead.

You woke up in silk sheets that weren’t yours, wearing clothes that didn’t belong to you. Your body ached in places that weren’t visible, and your throat was sore from silence. The room was dimly lit, clean, and too quiet. A tray sat on the nightstand with a glass of water and a note.

“She’s safe. Sleep. —F”

You stared at the handwriting for a long time.

You didn’t dream. Not properly. Just flashes—steel bars, Felix’s breath on your skin, blood in your mouth that wasn’t yours. Somewhere in between the cracks of sleep, you remembered what it felt like to let go. To not fight back.

To give in.

You didn’t know if it made you weak or just human.

✧✧✧

The next morning, Felix wasn’t in the apartment.

A man you didn’t recognise was seated outside the bedroom door. Not armed. Not hostile. Just… present. He nodded when you walked past him. Said nothing. You got the feeling that if you had asked for a ride to hell, he’d have already started the car.

You found Felix in a high-rise kitchen, sleeves rolled to the elbows, cutting fruit. Like it was a normal Tuesday. Like he hadn’t killed a man in front of you two nights ago. Like he hadn’t had his hand inside you in the backseat of a bulletproof car.

“Sit,” he said, not looking up. “You need food.”

Your stomach churned at the thought, but you obeyed.

He set a plate down in front of you. You didn't touch it.

You did speak, though. “Why are we still here? Shouldn’t we be with Nora?”

Felix paused. Knife mid-air.

“She’s in a safehouse. Out of reach. You showing up covered in blood wouldn’t exactly be soothing.”

You stared at him. “You think this is soothing?”

His jaw tightened—but he didn’t argue. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and slid it across the table.

You hesitated. Then opened it.

There was a photo attached.

A man. Late thirties. Scars down the side of his neck.

The name below the photo made something in your gut clench.

“You’ve heard of him?” Felix asked.

You nodded slowly. “He used to run guns out of Naples. Thought he was dead.”

“He’s not. And he’s been asking about you.”

You looked up. “Why?”

Felix finally met your eyes.

“Because he knows about Nora.”

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gukcnt · 1 month ago

Text

03 | SHADOWS OF OBSESSION ⭒ JJK

a criminal's obsession with a shy medical student starts a passionate mix of desire and darkness. As their worlds collide, secrets get exposed and possession turns into love. In a world filled with betrayal and the weight of their own pasts, can they find a way to survive together? or will their twisted bond ultimately destroy them both?

pairing — criminal dom!jungkook x student sub!femreader

genre — criminal au, dark romance, forbidden attraction, enemies to lovers, murderer!jungkook, stalker!jungkook, innocent shy!reader, virgin!reader, medical student!reader, violence, stalking and obsession, contrast of worlds, crime, thriller, smut, lots of angst, fluff

warnings/tags — 18+, explicit smut, angry!jungkook, posessive!jungkook, toxic!jungkook, emotional vulnerability, isolation and loneliness, intrusion and stalking, romantic gestures, violence and gore, fear, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, d/s dynamics, argument, crying and cursing, crying from pleasure, rough oral sex, multiple orgasms, aggressive and forceful consensual sexual acts, hair pulling and fisting, making out, marking and bruising, pain play, breast play, nipple sucking and biting, overestimation, sensory overload, pushing physical boundaries, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, she rides his fingers, solo masturbation, orgasm denial/control, jungkook watches reader masturbate, masturbation using a rose, intense clit play, body worship, dirty talk, slight degradation, praise kink, cum eating, absence of aftercare

wc — 11.7k

series m. list | main m. list

────୨ৎ────

It was nighttime, jungkook stood in the middle of the street, broad shoulders hunched, as always, his black leather jacket hugging his frame. The fabric was slick with sweat and a fresh splatter of blood from his latest victim, and it was soaking through his fabric, staining him with the weight of his sinful actions.

His knuckles were split open, the skin coated with blood—some his, most not. Beneath his boots, a man lay, his face pulped bloody flesh and shattered bones, unrecognizable as a human.

The man's chest no longer moved, his life taken away by jungkook with his knife and anger. The air was thick with the smell of blood, a cigarette between his lips.

He exhaled as dark eyes stared down at the dead body, but he felt nothing—no remorse, no mercy, only more of the rage that was clawing at his insides.

It had been seven days since he’d left you, since he’d tasted the sweetness of your pussy and felt your thighs tremble under his tongue. Heard the desperate, broken moans that spilled from your lips as he consumed your innocence.

Seven days since he’d knelt for you, something he never does for anyone, not even in the brink of death, but he did for you, his fragile petal.

Your purity weakened all his defenses.

He’d promised himself that he’d stay away, he’d let you live your soft, risk-free life untouched by the danger of his existence. But that promise felt like a lie that was making him suffer with the agony of your absence.

He was going completely feral, like a monster, his violence increasing to a limit that he himself couldn’t control.

In a single week, he’d killed three men—three lives taken from his fists alone, sometimes blades, and each death was more wild and severe than the last.

He didn’t kill for pleasure, he killed because he hated how tainted the world is, because his hands constantly itched to destroy something, and mainly because every moment away from you was driving him closer to madness.

“Fuck you,” he snarled at the corpse, voice guttural, “fuck all of you!”

His words were directed to no one, only something to fill his void. He kicked the body so hard it sent a jolt of pain through his leg, and he welcomed it, craved it, because pain was like an old friend to him, kept him grounded to a reality that he was losing.

His chest heaved, breaths ragged. His hands trembled not from fear but from the need to break something else, to tear the world apart until he felt even a small fraction of peace in his soul.

He lit another cigarette, trying to distract himself, jaw clenching. The first drag burned his throat, but the nicotine did nothing to dull the ache in his chest.

He smoked through several packs now, each cigarette was a mark of time spent without you. Sometimes he drank cheap whiskey, expecting it to help him, but it did absolutely nothing to numb his pain.

The nights were the worst when everything grew quiet.

Your face haunted him.

Your wide, innocent eyes glistening with fear and want as your lips trembled, whispering his name.

Your pussy, it was something he can never forget, no matter how much blood he spilled. Your pussy was so tight and wet, clenching around his fingers when he’d pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

He groaned, the sound breathy and animalistic, his cock twitching at the memory, body betraying him even as his mind screamed at him to forget.

“Why?” he muttered, voice breaking, the cigarette shook between his fingers.

“why can’t I get you out of my head?”

He slammed his fist into the wall, already bloodied knuckles getting even more bruised. The pain was sharp, but it helped to distract his mind, even for a little bit.

He wanted to storm back to your apartment, pin you down and fuck you until you were his, until everything in his world made sense again.

He couldn’t.

You were a flower, so very delicate, your petals soft compared to the harsh reality of him and he’d ruin you until your purity disappeared.

He sank to his knees, the pavement cold and rough, cigarette falling from between his lips and into the pool of blood.

“You’re killing me,” he whispered hoarsely, eyes burning, “you’re fucking killing me and you don’t even know it.”

The words were for you, for the girl who’d undone him with just a single act of kindness, you’d gotten into his soul and refused to leave. He pressed his forehead to the ground; body shaking with his despair and need.

He was a criminal, a killer, a man who’d lived for himself alone.

But you—you were it for him.

And he couldn’t change it no matter how much he tried.

۶ৎ

Early morning light hit you sharply through the bedroom curtains. You woke with a jolt, chest heaving, skin still humming with the memory of Jungkook's hands, his tongue, his presence.

Your room was still filled with the smell of him—cigarettes and musk—and it clung to your skin, even your very breath. The taste of him still clung to your tongue.

Your pussy still pulsed, a slight ache from the way he’d eaten you out, lips and fingers worked together to unravel you until you had shattered for someone for the first time, almost losing consciousness from the intensity of it.

You pressed your thighs together, pussy lips still coated in slick from last night, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the memory of his voice.

“You’re mine.” he growled, eyes burning into yours, stripping you bare with his eyes alone.

You sat up, heart pounding, your fingers clutched the sheets as if they could anchor you to the moment.

You stumbled out of bed. Everything felt wrong, way too quiet, the silence pressing heavily on your chest.

You searched every corner, breath hitching with every step, hoping for a trace of him. No pink roses on your kitchen counter, their sweet scent absent.

He left, just like that.

After last night, after making you feel so alive, he left with no glimpse of him left behind.

No usual cigarette butts around your house, no smoke in the air. The absence was something you had wanted for so long, you wanted him to leave you alone, but now it felt hollow, it twisted at the pit of your stomach.

“jungkook.” you exhaled, as if saying his name could bring him back, no one answered your small plea, a cruel reminder of how he had invaded your life and just left.

You moved to the window and pushed it open, air brushing against your face. You leaned out and looked at the street below.

Wanting to see that familiar shadow, someone with dark eyes, always staring at you from this very window

But there was nothing.

Just the hum of the city going on with their day.

The world moving on without him

۶ৎ

A week went by, each day felt too long, and the usual spark of your days gone. The apartment, often a comfort of your own, now felt far from it, like something was missing.

You’d always been introverted, content in your own space but this was different—this was loneliness.

You’d hated his stalking and feared him, along the intrusion of the gifts he’d leave in your house but now their absence felt like a wound increasing with each day.

Your clothes stayed in their place no matter where you left them, lazily tossed, no panties missing or no clothes displaced as if someone went through them.

Everything was left untouched, your world converting into what it used to be and you hated it.

You walked home after classes, backpack heavy against your shoulders. The university library that you usually loved to be alone in and immerse yourself in studies now only reminded you more of your isolated life and how Jungkook, even for a bit, made you forget about the isolation.

You’d clutch your warm teacup, hoping to feel the goosebumps arise from his stare, the shiver that would go down your spine from the feeling of being watched.

Nothing.

Nothing could drown out the silence in your heart, no matter what you tried.

You’d reach your apartment, keys trembling in your grip, heart racing with a desperate hope. You’d open the door and search frantically everywhere—under the couch, your rooms, behind the curtains—for a rose, a cigarette butt or a note, anything to prove that he hadn’t vanished completely.

But there were no traces of him.

“Damn it, jungkook,” you croaked, “why did you leave me?”

The words felt foolish and dangerous, it felt like a betrayal to the good girl you’d always been.

You wanted to be a doctor, to heal and save the world, yet here you were pining and aching for a criminal, a murderer who’d stalked you… but he’d made you alive in a way that terrified you

You buried your face in your hands, tears streaming down your face.

“I should be happy,” you whimpered, “I should be glad you’re gone, you… you monster!”

But the words felt wrong, a lie you couldn’t believe.

۶ৎ

The nights were the worst for you as well, body relentless constantly. You’d toss in bed, tangling the sheets as your cheeks get flushed with heat.

The memory of that night always consumed your head—his deep, commanding voice talking you through the orgasm, fingers curling inside you, tongue lapping at your sensitive clit until you’d screamed his name.

You’d wake up panting, pussy throbbing and panty soaked with need, as your breasts heaved with pants.

“Stop it.” you’d hiss, angry at your own self.

You’d try to squeeze your legs together trying to dull the ache, but it was of no use; it worsened it, your little nub pulsing away, making you whine shakily.

You’d imagine his hands, calloused and strong, pinning you down, lips claiming yours in that possessive, hungry way like that day, until all you breathed or tasted was him.

His cock—oh god... you’d never seen it, but you imagined it, not being able to help yourself. He’d be thick and heavy, filling you until you broke, taking a part of you that you never thought you’d give to someone, especially a man like him.

You bit your pillow, whimpers muffling in it as your body trembled with a need you hated yourself for experiencing.

In a moment of desperation, you even stopped locking your door. You left your windows open, the night air entering freely in your apartment. You’d stand in your living room looking outside the window.

“Come back, please.” a plea to the darkness that you’d come to crave.

“I’m losing my mind,” you whispered to the empty room, staring up at the ceiling.

“You’re a criminal, a murderer, and I... I want you. What's wrong with me?”

The emptiness was getting deeper each day. Your apartment felt like a cage. He’d light up your world in his own twisted way, it scared you but even brought you excitement in a way that nothing can.

You hated yourself for missing the man, for craving that danger he always caused, the thrill, and, most importantly, how he made you feel so seen and wanted in a way no one ever had.

But the truth was undeniable: without him you felt like you were fading.

۶ৎ

It has been several days since he promised himself that he’d stay away, that he’d let you, his petal, live free off his presence.

But it was enough.

He needed to see you, even from a distance, to ground himself to something real, something pure. He tried to resist it, tried stopping himself a lot, but nothing worked, so he convinced himself that one glance was all he wanted from you, not knowing exactly how wrong he was.

He started walking, hands bloody from a kill but with his intention straight.

Your neighborhood was a big difference compared to his own tainted world.

He reached your apartment, and slipped into the darkness in the street, his back against a tree.

He lit another cigarette, jaw clenching. The smoke filled his lungs, a harsh comfort, as he watched your window. He could see the slight glow of your desk lamp from where he stood.

There you were.

Seated at your study table, you are surrounded by several of your textbooks and notes. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, plump pink lips slightly parted as you read, a detail that made his chest ache with a longing he didn’t understand.

Your hair was loose, a few strands falling on your face. You wore a baby tee, light blue as it clings to your curve; it also outlines the swell of your breasts, the hard peaks of your nipples visible even from this distance.

His cock twitched as a growl rumbled in his throat, fingers tightening around the cigarette.

You were so small, so delicate, a doll-like girl in a world of monsters, and he was the worst of them all, hunger for you twisting in his gut.

But you weren’t studying.

Your pen lay still, your eyes looking into nowhere as you stared at nothing, fingers gripping your notebook, like it was your lifeline. Your distress hit him like a punch in his stomach.

He saw it then—the loneliness and the sadness etched in your features, a reflection of the pain that he himself was going through.

You were missing him, craving him, the man who’d haunted you yet claimed you with his touch.

The realization was like a spark fueling his obsession for you even more, along with his anger and need.

He wanted to storm inside your apartment, pin you in that very desk, get you on all fours for him, fuck you from behind until you screamed his name, until your innocence was his forever.

But he stayed where he stood, reveling in the pain and agony of being away from you.

He moved closer, silently. Once he reached near your apartment, he started climbing the fire escape, his movements slow but quick until he was level with your window, the glass slightly open, letting him smell you from your bedroom.

He crouched slightly, looking at you, breaths shallow.

You stood from your study table in frustration, oblivious to the predator watching you, and walked to your bed, sitting down on the edge of the bed, fingers clutching your tee, a habit to keep you in the right state of mind.

The fabric rode up, exposing the soft skin of your waist, and his jaw tightened, teeth grinding.

Your breasts were hardly contained in the tee, they were almost calling for him, begging for his mouth, his hands, or his teeth.

He imagined tearing that sorry excuse of a fabric, wanting to see those tits bounce as they get freed in the air, he imagined your cheeks pinking at the shame, but he knew exactly how much you would want it.

He would lean down and suck your peaks until you sobbed like that night, body arching under him, pussy dripping for him.

You gripped the edge of the blanket, the sight of you was so vulnerable, so his. He saw the way your chest rose and fell, your bottom lip quivering as if on the verge of tears.

“jungkook.” you whispered into the room that you assumed was empty, used to calling his name at least once a day. Your soft voice barely audible, but it reached him, and it was like a knife to his heart.

You were calling for him, body and heart aching for the man who’d ruined you, and it was too much, breaking all his restraints.

He couldn’t stay away.

He slipped through the window as he intruded on your space once again. He looked around your bedroom, a softness that he has missed a lot.

It was a world he didn’t belong in, yet he couldn’t leave.

You were asleep now, body curled on the bed, the baby tee now fully bunched up, revealing your smooth stomach. Your chest rose and fell, breasts a temptation he couldn’t resist, nipples hard from the cool night air.

Your face expressed your longing even in sleep, a frown in your brows, your lips parted in a soft, needy sigh the same way they’d parted when he’d eaten you out and made you come with his tongue.

He stood over you, shadow falling over your form, his hands still bloody from his last kill, as usual.

“You’re killing me, petal,” he rasped, voice low. “I’m trying to stay away, but you’re in my fucking head.”

He reached out with trembling fingers and brushed a strand of hair from your face, which led him to leave a smudge of blood on your cheek—his claim along with his intention to ruin you.

The sight of it, red against your skin, was a twisted kind of beauty that made his heart thunder with need, cock throbbing, a reminder of how much of a monster he is, that he could never be what you needed him to be.

He placed a pink rose beside you. It was a mark of his obsession along with his apology for being away for so long.

“You don’t get to miss me.” he grunted, eyes dark with something he refused to acknowledge, “You don’t get to make me feel like this.”

He leaned closer, lips hovering over yours, his breath hitting your skin. He wanted to kiss you, to taste you again, to fuck you until he is sated and you can never escape his possession.

But he pulled back, hands fisting as the blood dripped down his knuckles.

He turned around slowly, not wanting to stay any longer, otherwise he would cross a line he would regret later.

He left as silently as he’d come, stepping outside. But the image of you—lonely, sad, calling for him—will forever be in his heart, killing him slowly.

You were his addiction, and he cannot let you go.

۶ৎ

You woke up the next morning with a racing heart, skin prickling with an unshakable feeling. The air felt different, like something was here in your bedroom—or someone.

Your heart pounded wildly as your eyes darted all over the room trying to search. The familiarity of your home was tainted by an unknown presence, and even though you couldn't see it, you could feel it.

Then you saw it—a single pink rose, resting on the pillow beside you almost like a lover lying beside you.

Your breath caught, a gasp slipped from between your lips that was half joy and half dread. Your fingers hovered over the flower, shaking, with the thought of what it meant after his absence for so long.

He’d been here.

jungkook.

The man who’d haunted your dreams, your body, and your soul, was finally here.

You reached for the rose, the petals cool against your fingertips, sending a shiver down your spine. You brought the rose close to your nose and inhaled; the scent was sweet, but still a small lingering smell of him—of danger.

A smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it, you bit your lower lip, heart filled with hope that he hadn’t abandoned you entirely.

But the joy wasn’t long-lasting as your eyes fell to the mirror. There on your cheek was a smear of blood, your eyes widened, tears welling in your eyes from fear, a gasp escaping.

He was a murderer, a monster, and his deed was there, marked on your face, yet beneath the terror, a sick, shameful excitement was there, even though the fear was very much evident.

No one has ever seen you the way he did, has never claimed you with such ferocity, and you hated yourself for the way your body warmed at the thought of his darkness.

For the way your pussy clenched, already aching for a man you should fear, and you were scared, so very scared of your own feelings, surprised at how he excited you.

By afternoon, you were feeling restless with an energy you didn’t know how to name.

You sat on your bed, the flower in your hand. Its petals felt soft as you traced them, almost sinful with the way it caressed your skin, your breath hitching.

The ache in your pussy returned, a throb that had been there since that night, since his tongue had made you come hard, and his fingers claimed all your intimate parts.

It was unbearable now; your heat demanded release, needed him, and you couldn’t fight it or ignore it anymore.

You didn’t want to.

Your hands moved on instinct, peeling off your clothes with a trembling urgency until you were fully bare except for your bra, the lace hugging your full breasts, nipples hard as the lace teased them, making you mewl.

The cool air kissed your exposed skin, raising goosebumps all over your body and you spread your legs, bare pussy glistening with need. The air brushing against your swollen heat made you gasp, lips parting.

You settled against the pillows, and you kept your legs spread. Your fingers found the clit, circling it slowly in a teasing way.

“Oh gosh… mm yes…”

A gasp escaped you needily, hips bucking on your fingers.

“jungkook.”

you whimpered, his name escaping your lips.

Your voice, a soft plea in the quiet room. Pussy was soaked, arousal dripping on the sheets as your fingers explored your cunt, coating yourself with your own arousal, you slipped one finger inside, walls sucking the finger in greedily.

“Ah!” You moaned at the penetration, shocked at how wet you were, how easily your finger moved, and how your body craved more and more.

You panted as your eyes suddenly fell on the rose, its pink petals calling for you almost like it could sense your own desperation. You grabbed the rose with trembling fingers.

You brought it to your neck and dragged it downward slowly, almost like someone's caress you imagined, that belonged to him. The petals brushed your collarbone, making you bite your lower lip.

It went between your breasts, your breasts heaving.

“Oh mhmm hah.” you let out needy noises as the petals teased your restrained nipples, the lace intensifying the sensation a lot more.

Your nipples ached for touch, for his mouth, or anything from him.

The rose continued its path downwards until it reached the tops of your thighs. You huffed, spreading your legs wider, your pussy exposed, the scent of your arousal evident.

You pressed the rose to your pulsing clit, the petals soft and cool, and the sensation tore a cry from your throat instantly, “jungkook, fuck, please!” you sobbed.

Your hips rocked, fingers thrusting deeper inside your pussy, the wet sounds and your needy noises and breathlessness the only sounds in the quiet room. The rose only felt like an additional torment.

You moved the rose in slow circles, the petals catching your clit, stroking it, stimulating it in a way that made you tremble, your moans high and frantic.

Your breasts bounced with each rock of your hips, nipples ached, and you slid a second finger inside, stretching yourself and letting out a muffled whine. Your arousal was now pooling on the sheets beneath you, making a big mess, but you were too much in ecstasy to care.

The stretch barely anything compared to that night when he used his fingers on you.

The petals were now slick with your arousal, gliding over your clit in a way that made you see stars. You imagined him—his dark eyes, his calloused fingers, and his tongue—and the thought pushed you closer to your release.

“I need you, please.” you cried shakily, thighs shaking as you thrusted your fingers faster and harder, the rose pressing against your clit.

You curled your fingers, and that was it. Your pussy clenched, entire body convulsed, and then it hit—the release so intense that it was almost painful, cum gushing over your fingers and the bed, coating the rose entirely.

You screamed his name, body almost arching off the bed, breasts heaving and you collapsed on the bed panting, pussy pulsing with aftershocks, your skin was slick with sweat.

The rose fell from your hand in humiliation, completely coated in your release, and you looked at it with dilated eyes, chest still heaving as you whimpered at your own shamefulness and how your need took over you in such a nasty way.

jungkook watched the whole thing from the shadows, his cigarette forgotten as it burned in his hand, but the pain didn’t do anything to dull the agony of seeing you like this.

His cock was painfully hard, straining against his jeans, chest was tight with a rage that wasn’t anger but something deeper, something primal.

You were his fragile innocent girl, and yet here you were fucking yourself with the rose he had given you, moaning his name, your body a meal for him that he couldn’t consume, and it drove him angrier.

His eyes were locked on you, taking in every single detail—the way your pussy glistened, cum dripping, breasts bouncing and restrained by your lace bra, those nipples just begging to be freed and sucked on.

Your moans and cries were breaking his restraint; each whimper of his name from you was pulling him even closer.

He didn’t flinch at the burn on his hand from the cigarette as the ash fell on the floor. His jaw clenched, breath ragged.

He was angry—at you, for being so reckless and naughty, and at himself for letting you in his life and trapping him, also for breaking his promise to stay away from you.

Your climax hit him straight to his gut, the scream of his name made his nostrils flare. He wanted to go inside and punish you so hard, wreck that slutty cunt of yours, until you forget everything except him.

But he couldn’t, so he stayed, his hands fisted, cock throbbing.

“You’re killing me.” he husked out in the darkness, the words to no one but himself as he watched you collapse, body trembling as he watched your pussy drip with cum, and he gripped the window, wanting to break the glass with his fist.

He knew he lost, and he was involved with you in a way that would destroy both of you.

You lay there, breaths slowing, oblivious to the man outside watching you, body still trembled with the aftereffects of the pleasure. You didn’t know he was there, didn’t know his eyes had seen every moment, but you felt the weight of something, someone’s stare.

A predator watching his prey.

And somewhere deep inside you, you hoped he’d seen it all and that he’d come for you, hoped that he’d ruin you as thoroughly as you’d just ruined yourself.

Ruined your innocence.

۶ৎ

The days went by after that, each one marking jungkook's absence. Yet you knew that his shadow lingered, stalking you all the time, felt the heat of his stare constantly, a presence you couldn’t see.

jungkook, the criminal who’d come into your life like a storm, had vowed to stay away from you, but his obsession refused to die.

He watched you always and everywhere, his existence a secret into the night.

The air no longer carried his scent of cigarettes and musk, but his gifts began to appear, small things left for you in your absence, and each felt like a spark in your hollow heart.

You’d return from classes as always, your heart pounding with anticipation, hoping for a sign of him, hoping for him to intrude into your home show himself like that night, any glimpse of his darkness, but instead you found gifts.

All of the gifts were intimate, personal things you have always wished for but never had the ability to get or buy, and it almost feels like he’d peeled back the layers of your soul and seen you bare to know all your favorites without you telling him anything.

One evening you came home after studying in the library, fingers aching from hours of notetaking. You opened your door and gasped, your eyes fell on the kitchen table.

A small tub of chocolate ice cream—rare, expensive, the one that you’d randomly written on your bucket list, and you’d tucked it inside a notebook you barely opened and forgotten about it.

Your bucket list was just small dreams of you that you thought would never come true because you could never afford it, but he found it.

Without waiting further, you slowly walked forward and lifted the lid. The rich smell of chocolate made your head spin. Your heart raced, cheeks warming with a smile.

He was here again.

You bit your lower lip bashfully and whispered a shy “thank you” in the empty air, hoping that he is somewhere near enough to hear you.

The ice cream melted on your tongue, each bite reminding you of his absence, and you savored the treat slowly, chest heavy with a longing.

Another day, you found a book on your doorstep—a first edition copy of your favorite book, a novel you’d mentioned randomly to one of your friends during a study session as you expressed your love for the raw romance the characters go through in the book.

The weight of the book grounded you as you whimpered, hugging the book to your chest, you imagined a faint smell of him clinging to the book, you knew wasn’t there.

“How do you know me like this?” your voice cracked, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

The book felt like a mirror of your story, and you wondered if he saw himself in the main character's place with his devotion towards you.

The gifts kept coming, increasing each day. A delicate silver bracelet that you wore at all times, never taking it off, engraved with a tiny petal—like the nickname he’d given you.

Another time he left a box of your favorite folded chips, an entire set, the kind that’s very rare to find and you had to hunt for them in every store.

You noticed that you would usually receive such items when you’d have long study sessions and forgot to eat, almost like it angered him whenever you starved yourself, so he made sure to stuff your kitchen with food.

He also gave you a jasmine scented candle you’d once admired in a shop window unknowingly, there was also a note with it that made you light up with joy, you were getting a bit of his interaction.

The note was simple, handwriting sharp just like him: for you.

That’s all it said, just two words, no explanation, no name, yet it was enough to send a shiver down your spine: those words enough to show his possession.

Your stomach fluttered, thighs clenching unknowingly.

You’d sit on your couch, the bracelet on your wrist, his candle lit, the smell of jasmine filling the room as you are busy reading the book and felt him everywhere with his gifts—he took over your place without his actual presence.

Your heart ached, a constant beat in your pussy, tingling with the memory of his tongue and fingers from that night.

You hated yourself for wanting more than just his gifts, for craving him more than anything.

۶ৎ

One night you found a pink teddy bear on your bed, its fur soft and fluffy, it was huge, nearly as tall as you. You froze, heart hammering as you sank down on the bed and clutched the bear, arms circling it.

Tears spilled down your cheeks instantly, soaking into the fur of the teddy, you buried your face in it as you hiccupped; the softness of it made your heart ache even more.

“Why do you do this to me?” you choked out, voice pained.

“You’re gone, but you’re everywhere, and I hate you for it. I hate how much I want you.”

The bear is the only one that hears your words as you curl into it, wrapping your legs around it, dimming your loneliness, your tears continue soaking the pink fur.

“I’m supposed to be free of you,” you cried, “but I’m not. I'm trapped, and it's your fault. You made me need you... you bastard.”

Your tears soon lulled you to sleep, body tired.

jungkook watched from the shadows, your tears slicing through his guarded heart, your pain made him ache even more. He wanted to get inside, wipe those tears away, kiss them away, his tongue would claim each of your tears until even your sadness belonged to him.

He wanted to own every corner of your soul.

“Little petal,” he whispered. “I’m trying to let you go, but you’re making it fucking impossible, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold back.”

۶ৎ

It was midnight, and you were asleep, body curled against the teddy, your body clad in a black t-shirt as it clung to your curves, the hem riding up to reveal your plump thighs.

Your chest rose and fell, breaths quiet, unaware of what is about to happen.

A faint rustle broke the silence, and jungkook stepped inside your room, his presence enough to shatter the calmness of your apartment in an instant.

His gaze fell on your sleeping figure, pinning you to bed. His eyes traced every inch of you—the curve of your hips, your nipples hard against the fabric and especially the way your lips parted in sleep.

His jaw clenched, hands twitching to touch you, but he held himself back.

You stirred, eyes fluttering, a whimper escaping your lips as you felt the air shift in your room with an unknown yet familiar smell of cigarettes and something darker.

Your eyes opened half-lidded at first, then your eyes widened as they met his. The shock was a jolt through your body; your breath caught in your throat.

Fear instantly pressed on your chest, but beneath it there was that twisted happiness, longing finally satiated since he’d left you.

He stood there, no longer only his shadow but in full form, his beauty both deadly and so deeply handsome, he looked down at you, lips in a straight line.

“Do you trust me?” he asked lowly, eyes searched yours, demanding an answer, daring you to lie.

You didn’t speak, couldn’t. Your heart was screaming a desperate cry of yes, but your mind was saying otherwise, it was telling you to run, to scream, to save yourself from this monster of a man.

Your lips trembled, hands clutching the blankets around your body, trying to shield yourself from his intensity.

You sat up, t-shirt slipping further, exposing your collarbone, and he could see the rapid pulse at your throat, and his gaze lingered there, his stare alone felt like a physical touch, and your cheeks flushed despite your fear.

“jungkook,” you croaked shakily, “what are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer, silence louder than his words. In two long strides he was at your bedside, movements predatory.

Before you could even react or move away, he scooped you up easily in bridal style, like you weighed nothing.

His warmth seeped into your skin, and you gasped loudly, hands instinctively clutching his shoulders, fingers dug into his hoodie, eyes wide as you looked at him, breathing in his scent of blood and cigarettes.

It was overwhelming.

Your body was pressed up against his, breasts against his hard chest, his strong arms on the underside of your bare thighs, holding you, and the intimacy of all of this sent a shiver down your spine.

“Where are you taking me?” you asked, voice shaky with panic. Your wide eyes fixed on his face, demanding answers, but he remained expressionless, jaw tight and eyes fixed ahead as he walked.

He didn’t respond and carried you out of your apartment, the cool night air hitting you, making you curl yourself more into him. Your bare feet dangled, legs exposed with your flimsy t-shirt, and you felt vulnerable.

A small thing in the arms of a beast

The street was completely empty and quiet; he walked towards his motorcycle that was parked.

The bike was matte black, it looked as dangerous and fierce as its owner.

He set you down briefly, his hands lingering on your waist. Your heart pulsed, chest heaving, as you watched him take off his black hoodie, revealing the shirt underneath along with all his tattoos all over his arms that you barely saw before, your breath hitching.

He handed it to you, eyes dark and commanding.

“Put it on.” he growled an order for you that held no chance of argument.

You obeyed, hands shaking slightly as you slipped on the hoodie, you were instantly swallowed by the warmth of his body clinging to the hoodie, and it felt like a claim wrapping your body in his belongings.

It was way too big on you, the sleeves hanging.

His scent completely enveloped you—an intoxicating, strong smell of him, making your head spin.

You pushed up the sleeves, trying to fix the loose hoodie on you and he watched you intensely as if memorizing you in his clothes, and you could see the satisfaction it gave him.

He climbed onto the bike and gestured for you to follow. You hesitated, heart pounding as your mind still screamed at you to run back to the safety of your apartment and not follow him.

But your body moved, drawn to him with no further control. You slowly straddled the bike behind him, gasping softly at the feel of your thighs brushing against his hips.

He reached back with his rough hands, guiding your arms around his waist until your chest was flush against his back, breasts molding to the hard muscles of his back.

You squeaked, feeling embarrassed, his fingers squeezed you, trying to reassure you in his own twisted way.

“Hold tight,” he said, a hint of softness beneath.

“don’t let go.”

The bike roared as he started it. He pulled away, the wind hitting your hair and your exposed legs. Your hands tightened on his waist, fingers digging, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric as you held onto him.

The wind carried a sense of freedom, and for the first time in your life, you felt alive, carefree… In a way you couldn’t explain, the weight of your quiet, lonely world lifting off your chest as a small smile curved on your lips.

You pressed your cheek to his back, his scent grounding you. You hummed a soft, happy sound unknowingly, and it surprised you.

The vibration of the bike, the wind hitting your face, his solid warm presence—everything mingled to a moment of peace. You felt his hand cover yours, grip possessive, and your breath hitched, cheeks flushing as you realized he’d heard you hum with joy.

“Where are we going, jungkook?” you asked, loudly over the wind.

“Please tell me.” a hint of fear in your voice.

He didn’t answer, but his hand squeezed yours again, an action that meant his silent promise, you were safe, that he would shield you, and for some reason you believed him, believed that he wouldn’t let a single hair of yours bulge.

The bike sped up through the night, and you clung to him, heart racing as you closed your eyes, ready for the unknown along with the danger he always brought.

You didn’t know where he was taking you, but for now you didn’t care.

You were his and he was yours.

And it belonged to you.

You both soon reached a forest; surrounded by huge trees and darkness. The forest heavy with the scent of rain and damp earth that grounded you even as your heart raced with uncertainty, confused at where he is taking you.

Finally, his bike rumbled to a stop, he got off his bike. His presence beside you, broad large shadow covering you completely.

You glanced at him, goosebumps breaking all over your skin, as you looked at his eyes, black pools. “Why are we here?” you asked breathily, a whimper lodged in your throat.

The forest surrounded both of you and seemed unfamiliar and endless, scaring you further.

jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk at your distress.

“To keep you locked up for me.” he growls, voice dark with amusement.

Your breath hitched and your eyes widened, finding no humor in it, almost believing his words, and he rasped out a chuckle.

“Relax, petal. I’m joking, for now anyways.” he said.

His nonchalant behavior did little to ease your beating heart, but you followed as he led you forward. His hand brushed your elbow; the slight touch felt like electricity.

Dried leaves crunched under your feet as he guided you, and he soon stopped walking, your heart stopped at the sight before you.

A tent stood in the center, glowing in the dark because there were fairy lights all around it, the glow in the dark making it seem absolutely magical, all the fairy lights looked like tiny stars around the tent.

You stepped closer instinctively, your fingers brushed the tent, and a gasp left your lips once again at what was inside the tent.

It was like a dream woven into reality.

A plush blanket was draped over a mattress, it looked so very smooth, and beside it was a small wooden table that held a stack of all your favorite first edition books that you’d loved since childhood. Along with that, there were also dvds of your favorite tv shows, the selective ones.

The snacks—folded potato chips the one he made sure to give you several before and knew exactly how much you liked them, chocolate-covered nuts, only the specific brand you enjoy, along with all those, there was also a bowl of fresh frozen strawberries and raspberries.

Your heart gripped you in an almost painful ache as you pressed one of your hands to your chest, trying to steady your breathing, tears pricking your eyes. It felt like your heart would combust from gratefulness or sadness, you didn’t know.

This wasn’t just a gift, it was a wish from the little girl inside you with no family or anyone by her side, the wish to get everything.

It was written in a diary when you were a little girl that was now tucked away in a storage box.

It was a silly, childish dream where you wished for a night under the stars surrounded by all your favorite things, a fantasy you have accepted will never come true.

Yet it was here, real, crafted by the hands of a man who was both your stalker and your protector.

You turned to jungkook, finding him standing there looking at you, drinking in all your expressions hungrily, like that’s all that mattered to him.

“jungkook… how did you know? why would you do this?” you croaked, voice barely audible and heavy with emotions.

He leaned at the edge of the tent, expression unreadable as his eyes—those haunted eyes—locked onto yours, searching, yearning, with a mix of anger.

“Don’t ask questions I can’t answer.” he said gruffly, like he was fighting something deep inside him.

“I saw it in your diary. I wanted you to have it. That’s all you need to know.” he finalized.

“But why?” you pressed, stepping closer. “You’re… You’re not this person. You’re dangerous, and you said it yourself, so why give me this? Why make me feel like—”

Your voice broke as tears finally streamed down your cheeks.

“Like I matter to you?”

His jaw clenched at your words, hands fisting at his sides.

“You don’t get it, do you?”

He snapped, voice rising.

“You’re in my fucking head every second, every day. I can't breathe without thinking of you, and it's driving me insane. I don’t do this—fairy lights, complete someone’s dreams. But you… you make me want to burn the world down just to see you smile, and I hate it. I hate you for it.”

His words caused your throat to tighten, stomach fluttering with something you couldn’t name, heart aching as you shakily wiped your tears away and didn’t press him further.

You stepped into the tent, walking slowly to the books, fingers trailing over the books.

“I don’t understand you,” you whispered softly, “but this… this is beautiful. Thank you.”

He didn’t respond, just simply watched you, eyes softening just a bit as if he didn’t want your gratefulness but just your happiness in this moment, with all the things he gave so much effort in. He just wanted you to be yourself now.

You sank onto the blanket, the softness comforting you as you opened a bag of chips and grabbed a dvd of your chosen show, the screen turning on.

The sound of the show playing filled the tent as you nibbled on a strawberry, its juice staining your lips red.

jungkook, settled beside you.

His long legs stretched out, large frame barely contained itself beside you, his body almost too close to you, not exactly touching, but the graze here and there made your stomach clench, the entire moment felt intimate, like you both were a couple, but you shook it off your mind, not wanting to ruin what you were experiencing.

You just wanted to enjoy your time here without overthinking.

“You’re eating,” he said, voice almost gentle, eyes fixed on your lips and the way they glistened with strawberry juice. “Good. You don’t eat enough.”

Your cheeks pinked under his gaze, “I eat plenty,” you muttered, shyly popping another chip into your mouth.

“You’re just… always watching me, so you notice everything.” you huffed, not meeting his eyes.

He smirked, a rare genuine curve of his lips.

“Can’t help it.” he said.

He leaned back, one hand behind his head, muscles flexing under his clothing.

“You’re too fucking distracting.”

You giggled nervously and the tension between you two eased.

You spent hours in that tent, watching shows and eating snacks. You also read passages from a book aloud because jungkook wanted it and you couldn’t deny him.

Your voice was soft as the words felt like they belonged to this exact moment, and jungkook listened intently, his eyes never leaving you and you squirmed under his intensity but had no choice but to continue.

His expression was a mix of awe and hunger as he watched you, the sweet girl, enjoy such little things in life, so different from his criminal life, he thought.

His eyes were fixed on your lips as they moved, pronouncing each word. He wanted to kiss you, his jaw ached from self control, wanting you to have your own moment today without him pushing past boundaries, so he held himself back.

He knew that if he pushed you back in this very blanket, you wouldn't resist and give yourself to him, but you deserved better, so he would do anything for that, even if it meant killing himself in the process.

You played several episodes of your favorite shows, sometimes laughing at the familiar scenes, body relaxed against the blanket, you would sometimes lean on him without realizing.

The whole time he didn’t pay any attention to the shows, having his eyes fixed on you, noting all your expressions and movements hungrily, he knew he wouldn't be able get you so close to himself again.

At one point, you offered him a chocolate covered nut, holding it out to him with trembling fingers.

He raised an eyebrow but leaned forward, opening his mouth as he took it, tongue flicking on your skin for a second as he licked the chocolate off your skin.

Your breath hitched, pulse racing and he smirked, chewing the nut, eyes locked on yours.

“Sweet.” he rasped.

A double meaning that made your thighs clench.

You turned back to the screen, cheeks burning.

You were happy, truly happy, the kind of joy that you rarely experienced, and you were scared that the bubble might burst any second, ruining everything.

The forest outside was distant, and the tent was like a warm cocoon that kept you shielded from the world outside and made sure it wouldn’t touch you.

Where jungkook's darkness softened for the first time from your happiness and your laughter.

The night slowly deepened as your light mood slowly faded; you clutched the blanket heart filling with sadness again. jungkook stood, towered over you, offering you, his hand.

“Time to go.” he gruffed out, but there was also a reluctance in his eyes, something you couldn’t name.

You took his hand slowly, his calloused hand enveloping your small softer ones, as he pulled you to your feet.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admitted softly, eyes searching his, “this… it feels like a dream that I’ll never have again.”

His expression hardened at your words; thumb brushing your knuckles with a soft tenderness.

“You’ll have more,” he said, his voice a promise for the future.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

۶ৎ

He led you back to the bike. You climbed behind him once again, arms circling his waist without him telling you to do so this time, your body on autopilot, cheek against his back.

Your shyness gone from how safe you felt with him at the moment.

The ride home was quieter, almost laced with sadness.

You closed your eyes, letting the wind blow on your face, his warmth seeped into you, anchoring you.

Your hands tightening around his waist even more, heart heavy with words you couldn’t say.

Stay.

Don’t leave me.

I'm scared of what I feel for you.

When he stopped outside your apartment, you knew it would be a goodbye. You slid off the bike, legs shaky from the ride as you clutched his hoodie around your body, twisting it.

You wanted to speak, to beg for him to stay, to explain the ache in your chest, but the words were caught in your throat, stopped by your fear and longing for the man who turned your world upside down.

His eyes met yours, dark and intense, as his hands fisted, trying to hold himself back, jaw clenched, and for a moment you thought he’d kiss you, claim you right here under the stars, and your lips parted with shaky breaths.

But he didn’t.

“Go inside,” he said, voice heavy with anger and something close to hurt.

“now.”

He didn’t trust himself around you. If you stood there for another moment looking at him like that with those needy glistening eyes of yours, he wouldn't be able to blame himself for the animal he’d be.

You nodded, heart pounding, and rushed to your door, a smile tugging at your lips despite the ache in your chest.

You glanced back as you unlocked your door, but he was already turning his bike, about to leave, not being able to bear your presence for a single second without claiming you.

You entered inside, locked the door, leaning against it.

Cheeks flushed, and chest heaving as your eyes were still brimming with the memory of one of the best moments of your life, of the haven he created for you.

He wasn’t aware of it, but he healed the little girl in you without realizing it; he completed the dreams of you that you thought were fantasies only.

He mended something he didn’t break in the first place.

۶ৎ

You were in your bedroom, hunched over your notes, hair in a messy bun as you focused on studying. The world outside was a distant hum, but it was not what unraveled you—it was the presence you felt.

jungkook was here again, somewhere in the shadows as always, his gaze burning your skin, making your heart stutter.

You hated this, hated him, hated how he would give you everything one moment, give you all the happiness in the world, and in the next moment just disappear.

Just like that.

He stayed away, tormenting you, torturing you with his stalking, never giving the satisfaction of making himself visible, complicating everything.

So, you continued focusing on your studies, trying to write, but you couldn’t focus no matter what, senses attracted to him on their own, to the man who’d become your obsession as well.

He’d been watching you for days, his presence always there, but tonight it felt different—sharper, hungrier, almost like he was tired of constantly holding back and hiding in the shadows, just like you.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you tried to focus on your medical book, but your mind kept drifting back to him—his dark eyes, his tattooed skin, and the way his touch had set your body on fire.

You hated how he always consumed you, couldn’t pull him away, body always betrayed you at every thought of him, a constant ache in your core with a need you couldn’t suppress.

jungkook stood in the corner of your room, hidden in the darkness. His jaw tightened as he looked at you, drinking in your features and curves, the way the skirt you wore while studying outlined the shape of your ass.

You looked so damn sexy to him even when you were doing something as innocent as studying.

His cock hard and angry, the ache constant and always there, but tonight it was more than a desire as he watched you shift in your study chair.

He was filled with rage, burning in an uncontrollable anger at how you’d taken his soul in your little grasp, how you’d made him weak.

He’d watched you shower earlier, the door carelessly left ajar, your body a feast for his eyes under the water.

The glass was fogged, but he could see every curve—your full breasts bouncing as you moved, nipples hard and begging for his mouth, plump ass jiggling as you focused on rinsing your hair.

The soap suds slide down your body in a slow, intimate way that made him almost angry at how they were allowed to caress you, and he wasn’t.

The scent of your shampoo that he was familiar with filled the bathroom, along with the smell of your skin, and his eyes were dazed.

You’d been so innocent, so unaware as you hummed softly and washed your body, fingers trailing down your body sensually, and he wanted to press you against the tiles and fuck that tight cunt of yours while he watched your wet body bounce in front of his hungry eyes, your cries echoing in the bathroom.

You would beg for mercy, for a break from his fucks, but no one would be able to save you in this locked space, and he would ruin you completely.

He even killed a man afterwards, wanting to let out his rage on something, and it barely did anything for the release he craved.

Now, as you bent over to clean the kitchen floor, your little skirt rode up, exposing the curve of your plump thighs, along with your panties, the lace clinging to your ass.

The flimsy material doing nothing to cover your folds, it needs to slip a bit for him to see the entirety of your cunt fully.

The sight was fueling his anger even more, and that was it; he couldn’t hold back any longer.

He moved like a beast about to consume you, his steps silent on the floor. Before you could strengthen, he was on you in an instant, hard body pressing you against the wall, hands caging you.

A scream ripped from your throat at the scare of his sudden presence; his scent overwhelmed you. Your body trembled as his hips pinned you against the wall, your hands gripping the wall, trying to steady yourself, his erection hard against your lower back.

“jungkook.” you whispered, voice breathy with a mix of fear and need.

Your nails dug into the wall, heart wildly thrumming.

Before you could react, he pulled you to him harshly, kissing you with a hunger and roughness, a cry leaves your mouth from the pain of his bruising kiss and the shock.

He tasted of smoke and whiskey, his teeth grazed your bottom lip enough to draw blood, and you whimpered, fisting his shirt.

His hands roamed all over your body unrestrained, barely giving you a moment to breathe or think as he roughly felt you up all over, groping you in places.

One hand slides up your side cupping your breast, thumb brushing your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt, making it harden instantly. The other hand gripped your hip, fingers digging enough to leave bruises that’d stay for days, and he heaved it up around his waist, making you cling to him.

Your body melted into his despite the shock and fear of his presence and the knowledge that this was wrong, faded at the back of your mind.

He pulled back, eyes burning with desire and anger.

“Why the fuck do you do this to me, huh?” he roared in your face.

“You’re in my head every fucking second, tearing me apart! I can't think, I can't breathe and it's all your damn fault! I want to kill you and then end myself to make it all stop!”

You trembled, tears streaming down your face at his anger and words, cheeks flushed with heat. His words were tearing your heart apart, but your body responded to him, clit palpitating like your heartbeat.

“I didn’t ask for this,” you whispered, shaking.

“I didn’t want you to—”

“Shut up!” he snarled as his hand slammed against the wall beside your head, making you jump as your eyes widened, more tears spilling over.

“You don’t get it, do you? You’re a fucking drug I can’t quit, and I hate you for it. I hate how you make me weak, how you make me want to burn the world to keep you.”

You didn’t look away, feeling frightened but gaining a bit of strength to talk back to the criminal.

“Then why are you here?” you croaked.

“If you hate me so much, why don’t you just leave?”

He laughed bitterly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Because I can’t,” he growled, breath hot against your cheek.

“You’re mine, petal, whether you like it or not, and I’m going to ruin you right now.” he murmured.

Before you could respond, he tore at your clothes hands rough and impatient as your shirt and skirt fell on the floor along with your bra panty, the rip loud in the quiet room, a sob of shock left you.

You instinctively went to cover your exposed breasts, but he was quick to grab your wrists, pinning them over your head with one hand, iron like grip.

Your breasts bounced free for him, heavy and full, nipples hard and aching, begging for attention. He stared at them, his eyes dark as a growl rumbled in his chest.

“Look at you.” he murmured, free hand cupping your breast, thumb rolling your nipples until you arched, a soft moan leaving your lips.

“Always teasing me, these perfect fucking tits, always hard, always begging for my mouth. You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”

His dirty words made you writhe, tears welling with shame.

He lowered his head, lips finally closing around your nipple, tongue swirling hot and wet, teeth grazed your peak slightly and you sobbed out, head falling against the wall, thighs pressing together.

He sucked harder, hand kneading and flicking the nipple of the other breast, making sure it got the same attention. His finger pinched your nipple, making you squirm, trapped in his grip, having nowhere to go from his torment.

Your moans were loud and desperate as you trembled, his hand keeping your wrists pinned.

“jungkook, please,” you whined.

Pussy so wet you could feel it drip down your thighs. Your own desperation shocked you, but you couldn’t stop your body from craving him, mind feeling hazy.

He released your nipple with a wet pop, releasing your wrists and you instantly clung to him, gripping his hair to ground yourself as he slowly knelt before you.

Leaving kisses all over your collarbone, cleavage, soon reaching your stomach, breath hot against your skin

His knees hit the floor as he knelt just like that night, and without wasting any second, he spread your thighs, eyes locked on your pussy, clit swollen and twitching.

He drinks you up like a starved man even though he saw you exposed before, but it will never be enough to satiate his wild need.

“Fuck, you’re soaked, baby,” he growled, fingers brushing your inner thigh close to where you needed him the most.

“All for me, huh? My innocent little petal dripping like a slut.”

You gasped, cheeks burning with humiliation as your hands struggled in his tight grip, “Stop it,” you uttered weakly, “I’m not… I didn’t”

He ignored you, fingers sliding through your folds, exploring you, collecting your slick.

“Mhmm, gosh.” you gasped, hips bucking at the sensation, pussy clenching around nothing, and he looked up at you, eyes dark and predatory.

“I saw you,” he said voice low and dangerous.

“Fucking yourself with my rose, moaning my name like a needy little whore. You think I didn’t know? you think I didn’t see how much you wanted me?”

Your face burned in shame as tears fell faster, your stomach twisting.

“I didn’t mean to.” you sobbed, trying to push him away, your hands weak on his shoulders.

“I was just ahh—”

He plunged two fingers inside you, cutting off your words, your pussy stretching around him, the penetration sudden and intense for you.

You cried loudly, back arching, your walls clenching around his thick fingers; the sensation was a mix of pain and pleasure.

He curled his fingers, hitting that spot inside you, thumb circling your clit relentlessly until you were moaning, hips grinding on his fingers, riding them, your body out of your control.

“Damn it, you’re tight,” he grunts, eyes locked on your face, watching every gasp and tremble of yours.

“So fucking pure, and yet you’re here taking my fingers like you were made for it.”

You sobbed, moans loud and broken, hips rocking faster despite your attempts to stop, “jungkook, oh god… please,” you begged, bare breasts heaving, glistening with sweat and his saliva.

“It’s too much, I can’t—”

He added a third finger, not paying any attention to your words or begs, as he took you the way he wanted. Your pussy was burning now with the fullness, something you have never felt in your virgin core, it felt like you were stretched at your very limit.

You screamed, body shaking, walls fluttering on his fingers, your slick coating his hand fully. “That’s it, you can do it.” he coaxed, fingers thrusting faster and hurried on your clit.

“You will. You’re mine, petal, and I’m going to make you feel it.” he snarled.

You saw white as your climax built faster than you could imagine, taking your breath away. You tried to push him away again, hands weak and tears falling, your hips moved on their own, chasing the release only he could provide.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccupped, voice breaking, “I… I didn’t mean to make you angry, I just—”

“Stop fucking apologizing.” he said angrily, fingers curled harder, thrusts almost brutal as you were full-on crying behind your hands now, drool trickling down the side of your mouth.

“You don’t get to be sorry. You don’t get to make me like this and then act like it’s nothing. You're driving me insane, and I hate you for it!”

Your climax hit at his words, an explosion that stole your breath, “jungkook, jungkook!” you rambled his name and squirted, pussy spasming.

Your cum soaked his hand as he helped you with the aftershocks, thighs trembling, throat aching from all the screams.

He pulled his fingers out slowly, pussy clenching around nothing, the loss making you whimper. He pulled you close to him, letting your boneless body rest on his chest as you looked at him with dazed eyes.

He brought his cum-soaked fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, your taste enough to make him orgasm with no touch or anything at all, your sweetness better than anything in this world or even comparable to heaven.

“So fucking sweet.” he hummed.

You panted, tears staining your cheeks, body exposed and vulnerable.

He stood, hands gripping your hips, lifting you until you were straddling him, your weak legs supported by him, the harshness of his jeans against your sensitive cunt made you gasp.

His hands roamed your body possessively, groping your tits once again and pulling your already hurting nipples, achy from his teeth earlier. He can never get enough of you; even if he spent days touching you, he could never have enough.

You huffed, body trembling with overstimulation, tears prickling your eyes again. He looked at your essence-soaked bottom, still dripping pussy with release, along with your small, tight ring that clenched under his gaze.

His gaze was so intense, and you felt perverted as he saw all your intimate places, innocence gone just from his stare.

“I’ll fuck you when you beg for it.” he rasped, hands suddenly pushed you off him and onto the bed, you gasped.

You landed onto the bed with a thud, body bouncing as your tears fell. You looked up at him, bottom lip quivering. He stood over you, his erection very much visible against his jeans. He never minded that, always wanting to feast on you and please you, that was better than him getting pleased himself.

“Until then you’ll feel this.”

He said, hand gesturing to your trembling body, achy pussy, and thighs soaked with release.

“You’ll ache for me, and you’ll hate yourself for it.”

He turned, walking away with long strides as the door slammed loudly behind him, the sound making you flinch in the silence.

You lay there naked, body still thrumming with need, heart shattered at his words and how he left you.

You sobbed and hiccupped onto the sheets, gripping onto the it like you were gripping his shirt moments before.

You hated him so much.

The room smelled of him, of you, along with the agony he’d left behind.

You knew deep down that you were his prisoner as much as he was yours and there was no escaping it.

────

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