#a/n down here... hahaha

[koiukiy-o]

flame reaver x gn! reader. angst. 800w.

The first time you laid eyes on him, you thought the stories had been wrong.

The man who had left Aedes Elysiae in ruin was no immortal force, no unrelenting god of war. He was a shadow of what had once been—a crumbling ruin wrapped in frayed black cloth, flickering at the edges like a dying flame.

His armor, once gold and obsidian, had dulled to something lifeless. The jagged protrusions, like broken ribs bursting from his form, now seemed more like the remnants of a carcass picked clean by time. And his sword—

The legendary blade that had carved destruction into your home, that had left knowledge itself in embers—dragged against the ground, its edge dull, its radiance faded.

You had tracked him across wastelands and drowned valleys, through the ruins of empires he had reduced to cinders. You were meant to stop him. You had promised you would.

But standing before him now, as the last scholar of a knowledge he had tried to erase, you did not see a man who needed slaying.

You saw a man already dying.

"Have you come to stop me?" His voice was raw, stripped of the grandeur and menace the rumors had given him. He did not sound like a conqueror. He sounded like something that had burned too long and now had only smoke and ash left in its lungs.

You tightened your grip on your staff. "Should I?"

He laughed, and it was a sound that did not belong in this world—cracked, distant, like wind whistling through a skeleton’s ribs. "If you think it will change anything."

A gust of wind kicked up the dust between you. Even now, embers clung to the folds of his cloak, refusing to die.

"You destroyed Aedes Elysiae." The words felt small, meaningless in the face of all he had done.

He inclined his head slightly, as if considering. "I did."

The rage you had carried for years did not rise as you had expected. Instead, something colder settled in its place.

"Why?"

His fingers flexed at his side. They were no longer whole—veins of fire ran through his skin, cracks in a dying vessel. The corruption was spreading.

He exhaled, and it sounded like the last breath of a fire before it collapsed into embers. "I don’t remember."

You took a step closer. "Liar."

His golden mask tilted toward you. "I remember the fire. I remember the screams. I remember something calling me. But why?"

His hand clenched into a fist. "Why did I burn the city that I once called home?"

The nights were cold in the wasteland. He did not sleep, but you could tell the fire inside him flickered weaker when the sun set. He had stopped moving toward the Coreflame for now, though whether it was because of you or because his body was failing, you did not know.

You should have struck him down while he was still.

Instead, you sat across from him, staring at the broken creature before you.

"Was there nothing left?" you found yourself asking. "No one left worth sparing?"

His fingers traced the hilt of his sword absentmindedly. "There was a time I would have spared them all."

You swallowed. "But you didn’t."

"No." He looked at his own hand, the veins of flame crawling higher. "Something changed."

"Something?"

His mask turned toward you. "Or maybe it was me."

The silence between you stretched. You should not have cared. You should not have felt this pull toward understanding him. And yet, as you watched him sit there, a man crumbling under the weight of what he had become, you realized something.

He did not need redemption. He did not need forgiveness.

The e grove lay in ruin, the last remnants of its wisdom shrouded in shadow. And at the center of it all—

Anaxagoras sat upon the luminary throne, unconscious, one of the three shards of the Coreflame pulsing weakly.

Flame Reaver stood before him, his tattered cloak barely stirring, his gauntleted fingers hovering just above the light that would end his suffering or consume him whole.

You stepped forward. "Don’t."

He did not turn to face you, but you saw his hand clench. "You would stop me?"

"I would remind you." You took another step closer. "This is not yours to take."

His shoulders trembled. The mask upon his face made him unreadable, but something in the way he stood—

Something in the way he hesitated—

"Cerces has chosen him," you continued, your voice steady. "For you to take it now is to reduce everything to ruin."

The fingers of his outstretched hand twitched. He could take it. The hunger within him screamed for it. And yet—

He lingered.

The world seemed to hold its breath.

Then, with a slow exhale, he lowered his hand. The embers along his body flickered once before dimming.

You turned from the throne.

And you walked away.

—

He was not a god. He was not a legend.

He was only a man who sought redemption.

But in the end, even this flame must die. Sooner or later.

[warm-mangoes-with-chai]

Just found something after 3 years,,,, life is with living still,,,,🥹

Bottom line? NEVER give up, my fellow yuri soldiers 🧡🤍🩷

[la-cocotte-de-paris]

ALSO I fit into an EU size 36 skirt today WHAT is HAPPENINGGGG

[tonycries]

Go For It, Gojo! - G.S.

Synopsis. You wouldn’t fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paid… …is what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, academic rivals to lovers, student president! reader, unprotected sex, banter about physics, cunnilingus, oral sex (male + female), 7 minutes in heaven, college! AU, 69, Satoru is a tease down bad for you (and has a big dick), overstimulation, pet names (sweetheart, hardass), swearing.

Word count. 10.2k

A/N. I really don’t like physics. Art by @_3aem on X.

Life truly has an awful sense of humor - almost as bad as Gojo’s, which you discovered on the first day of Advanced Quantum Physics. 

The air charged with nervous energy and the scent of freshly printed syllabi, you quickly snag a seat right at the front row of Professor Yaga’s class. 

Ah, you’ll never forget how peaceful those few seconds to yourself after introductions were - before the devil incarnate dramatically swung open those lecture hall doors and plopped himself down right next to you. Late. 

“Any closer to Yaga and you’d be fucking his wife, y’know.” a voice hums from beside you, shattering your daydreams of passing this class with flying colors and riding a wave of glory into becoming a Nobel prize-winning physicist. 

With a slight scowl, you turn your attention to the source of disturbance - only to meet eyes with (self-proclaimed) campus sweetheart, Satoru Gojo, leaning on his chair with an air of nonchalance. At your silence, he repeats, “I said any closer-”

“I heard what you said.” you snap, irritation flaring at the amused twinkle in his blue eyes and the mirthful grin that spreads across his lips at your reaction. “Doesn’t erase the fact that you’re sitting here too.” you raise a brow.

“Oh me? That’s because I’m already fucking his wife, sweetheart.” he deadpans with a blank expression. 

What? The tense silence that follows is deafening - for the first time ever in your life, you were shocked into speechlessness. 

A beat passes. One. Two. Before Gojo bursts into hysterics, clutching his stomach. “You- you shoulda seen the look on your face- HAHAHA-” he gets out between uncontrollable laughs. Face burning, you train your eyes forward and will yourself to not glance at the 6’3 mess cackling beside you.

Ugh. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Just think happy thoughts - kittens, quantum mechanics, being valedictorian. Desperately attempting to block out the giggling thorn at your side, you recoil at Professor Yaga’s extremely disapproving look in your direction. 

Panicking, and dreams of being his ace student slowly flushing down the drain, you quickly flip through your notes, attempting to catch up to where the lecture had now started. 

“Looks like we’re in trouble, partner~” Gojo’s dramatic stage-whisper catches the attention of students around you, them chuckling at your expense. 

“Hey, you’re the student president, right? Hey~ Heyyy prez~” As Professor Yaga continues his spiel about the syllabus, you continue to very obviously ignore the incessant comments that spill out of Gojo’s lips, to stifled laughs from his fast-forming entourage. 

The harder you tried to focus on Professor Yaga’s words, the louder and more absurd Gojo’s comments became - as if he’d made it his personal mission to enrage you. A sense of impending doom looming over you, you glare at him with a look that could’ve melted steel, hissing out, “Do you ever in your life shut the fuck up?”

Eyes widening in mock innocence, he grins “Oh~ I didn't know our student prez could get so feisty. Maybe I should take notes instead of doodling hearts around your name in my notebook.”

Ears ringing in embarrassment and frustration, and mind a whirlwind of how bad it would really be if you killed Gojo right here, you almost miss Professor Yaga’s question, “Now, would anyone here be able to discuss the interpretations in the debate between the Copenhagen interpretation and the Pilot-Wave theory?”

Teetering on the edge of your seat, you raise your hand, scrambling to salvage whatever is left of your academic reputation. You and- Gojo?

You start at the call of your name from Professor Yaga, “The Copenhagen Interpretation uses Heisenberg's uncertainty principle and emphasizes measurement to state that quantum-level particles can act as both waves and particles. It’s the most widely accepted and pragmatic theory.”

Gojo basically falls out of his seat in eagerness to answer after you.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Gojo.” 

You internally groan, ready for whatever bullshit was about to come out of his mouth. 

With a deep breath, “Not to be the devil’s advocate but the Pilot-Wave theory makes way more sense practically.”

Professor Yaga raises an intrigued eyebrow at Gojo’s statement, the class collectively holds a breath - as if awaiting the impending academic battlefield.

Gojo, with a cocky grin, plows on, “Think about it. The Pilot-Wave theory suggests that particles have definite positions and paths, unlike the uncertainty principle of the Copenhagen Interpretation. It's like predicting where a ball will land after you throw it, rather than saying it could be anywhere until you look."

Oh? He wasn’t a complete idiot?

Yet, you roll your eyes, “But the Pilot-Wave theory is too fanciful, it brings in too many hidden variables that have their own set of problems. It goes against the measurements and principles of locality!”

Unbothered by the challenge, Gojo leans back further in his chair, “What’s a couple complications? It’s a lot clearer on a microscopic level, none of that weird uncertainty of the Copenhagen Interpretation.”

Irritation running through your veins, you scoff at his condescending tone, “It might seem intuitive, but experiments and observations support the probabilistic nature of quantum mechanics.” You’re almost out of your chair at this point, an accusing finger pointed at Gojo. “Despite its weirdness, the Copenhagen Interpretation has proven successful in predicting outcomes.” 

“Oh yeah? And it’s also only used by hardasses that just want to shut up and calculate, sweetheart.”

“Big talk for a little bi-” 

“OKAY STUDENTS, that’s enough for now. Let’s put a pin in this discussion and move on with the topic.” Professor Yaga, who had been watching the debate with amusement, promptly ends it once you two begin to get overly heated. 

The rest of the class, on the edge of their seats and probably hoping for some fists swinging between the academic titans, now sit back in disappointment at the fight cut off early. 

You sit back in indignation, fuming at how Gojo had gotten you so worked up. And he was wrong too! 

The lecture continues as if you two were never two curse words away from each other’s throats. 

But, in the midst of it all, your glare meets blue, sparkling with amusement - a jolt of electricity runs through your body at the glint of recognition of the other’s brilliance. An unspoken yet undeniable competition.

You’ve avoided Gojo like the plague for the past few months since then - which isn’t doing much when said plague follows you around everywhere with incessant calls of “Hey, hardass prez~”. The only time you seek him out being to gloatingly show off the large, red “100” on your tests - to which, unfortunately, he does the same. 

It’s stupid. It’s childish. Honestly, sometimes you think he just tries to get under your skin for the hell of it.

But you don’t have the time to think too deeply into that.

Just like you don’t have time for this frat party. 

Music and alcohol thrumming through your veins, it’s always the same thing. You’d rather be holed up getting ahead of your physics textbook than be here. Yet, you owed a favor to your friend Haibara - and he’d been bugging you to come to this party for weeks now. 

You’ll just stay another hour then leave, you sigh.

Zoning out as Haibara plays an overly-intense game of beer pong, you’re startled by an arm around your shoulder. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t our lil’ prez looking like she’d rather peel paint than be here.” The expensive cologne hits you before the realization of who this was. “Drooling over the jocks? I recommend the STEM majors, sweetheart, jocks aren’t that great in bed.”

Quickly shrugging off his arm, you scowl, “Not like STEM majors are any better. And unlike some people, I have goals beyond being the life of the party.”

Decked out in slacks and a slightly too-unbuttoned shirt, Gojo chuckles, “Yeah, like what? Banishing fun?” Cerulean eyes gleaming with mischief, “You gotta let loose for once, sweetheart. Not everything in life is about academics and accolades.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes “Well not like I-” but whatever snarky retort gets caught in your throat as Gojo seizes your hand, effortlessly pulling you onto the dance floor. 

Caught off guard, you can do nothing more than sputter in surprise as he leans down to murmur in your ear, above the bass reverberating the walls, “C’mon hardass, sometimes in life, you just gotta- dance!” 

Gojo spins you into a dramatic dip, his silver chain brushing your face and his hand on your back burning into your skin.

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment - yeah, embarrassment - as the people around you cheer in amusement at the science department’s biggest rivals navigating the dance floor with surprising chemistry.

This was ridiculous. And yet, music ringing in your ears, you almost crack a smile. Almost. That is until your eye catches Haibara’s surprised ones from the side of the dance floor. Wait - here you were dancing with Gojo. 

Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru.

Immediately pushing him off with a hand to his chest, you don’t listen to whatever spills out of his mouth as you make your way to Haibara, disappearing with him into the crowd.  

“Hey, hey you okay? Wasn’t that the guy you were manifesting would step on Lego with his bare foot?” Haibara’s concerned voice speaks up from wherever you were dragging him through this sprawling frat house. 

“Ugh, yeah. Sorry about that, I don’t even- Anyway, how did the beer pong go?” you snap out of your reverie. What happened there? You were almost…enjoying yourself with Gojo Satoru of all people. 

Listening to Haibara brag about his dominating beer pong win thankfully took your mind off of your little endeavor with Gojo. 

“And then Yuji totally-”

“AH, THERE YOU ARE! Perfect, come join we’re two people short!” your kinda-friend Shoko’s drunken drawl breaks through the conversation. You can barely get a word out as she forcefully drags you two into a dimly lit room against your protests. 

The atmosphere heavy with beer and laughter, she plops you two down onto the floor in a neat circle of people before taking her seat beside you. “GREAT! Now we’ve got everyone, we can finally start.”

With a mischievous grin, Shoko declares, “Alrighty, folks! Time for the ol’ classic - we’re playing 7 minutes in heaven!” pulling out an old-fashioned, tattered hat from behind her back, to a collective mix of groans and cheers from the circle. 

“Where did you even find that ratty old thing, Shoko?” a sharply handsome man - Geto, you think - chuckles from his seat opposite you. And beside him- your heart stops. Gojo.

A smirk curling his lips and twinkling blue eyes locked on you. 

As if on instinct, you move to get up - only to be brought back down by a hand on your wrist. “Nuh-uh, no one’s escaping, c’mon it’ll be fun.” Shoko smirks, beginning to hand out pieces of paper to write down your names.

Apprehension pooling in your stomach, you share a glance with Haibara, who was honestly just happy to be here. Reluctantly, you scrawl down your name, tension building as it drops into the abyss of the hat.

“As our first attempted escapee, I think the prez should go first.” that agitating voice you knew too well speaks up. If looks could kill, Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing all over his grave with a textbook on the Copenhagen Interaction. 

To agreeing laughter - and your impending doom - the hat is promptly placed in front of you. God, you knew you should’ve stayed home. With a shaky hand, you delve in, grasping onto a slightly crumpled piece of paper.

Not Gojo. Please not Gojo. Literally anyone but Gojo- 

Turning it over.

Satoru Gojo.

You jolt in surprise, rereading the hasty handwriting over and over - as if willing it to change. This must be some kind of sick joke. Eyes meeting Gojo’s, a flash of surprises passes his face before a self-satisfied grin takes over. He looked way too fucking pleased with himself.

“No fucking way.” Shoko mutters as it dawns on the group just who you were paired up with. Cheers and wolf-whistles erupt, filling the room as Satoru stands up extending a hand theatrically towards you. “If her highness the student prez would do me the utmost pleasure of joining me.”

You scoff, jeez it would be a surprise if you two didn’t kill each other in there. “Unless she’s…intimidated?” he bats his long lashes at you mockingly.

Intimidated? Of who? Swatting away Gojo’s hand, you stand up. “Intimidated? Don’t make me laugh.” 

He leans down, retorting, “I’ve tried but you don’t seem to know how.”. The room holds their breath, attention squarely on the two of you.

A beat of silence passes as you glare at him. You really could smack his annoyingly pretty face right now, but you shouldn’t - too many witnesses. 

“Now now, you two. Save it for the closet.” 

Ever the mediator, Geto ushers you two in the direction of the - very cramped - closet tucked into a corner of the room. 

Before you know it, the creak of the heavy wooden door rings in your ears as the door closes behind you. The loud click of a lock resonates, plunging you two into darkness. 

The muffled sounds of the party seem miles away as you try to focus on your breathing - trying not to let your mind drift to Gojo. You could feel the heat of his body, the ghost of his presence less than a foot away from you.

“So…” you flinch as Gojo’s voice cuts through the deafening silence. “You still alive and breathing after being trapped in a tiny closet with me?”

You huff, desperately wanting to break out of this closet, “Yes, but you probably won’t be if you don’t stay on your side.”

“This closet is barely a closet, there’s no ‘side’, sweetheart. And that’s my leg you’re resting on.”

You immediately scramble to move away from the warmth of Gojo’s leg that you’d been subconsciously leaning yours on. In the chaos, you probably did a bit more damage than solving. “Ah! Wait- watch the crown jewels, hardass.” 

You distance yourself as much as possible in the small space, knee burning where it had brushed up against Gojo’s that.

God, you were making a fool of yourself.

“As much as I like forceful women, you better take me out on a date first, sweetheart.” As your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting filtering in through the slight crack of the door, you could make out that signature playful grin. 

Your irritation simmers beneath the surface. Gojo always knew how to get under your skin. 

“Don’t you worry your empty lil’ head, I wouldn’t fuck you even if I was paid.” you bite back.

“Oh yeah?” Gojo leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “You sure about that, prez? I’ve been told that I’m irresistible.”

You raise a brow, unimpressed. “Yeah, irresistibly hard to not smack.” 

“I always did like ‘em feisty. Makes our little debates all the more interesting.”

“Our debates would be a lot more interesting if you learned to keep that big mouth shut.”

“Oh? C’mon, prez, you love this ‘big mouth’. And you love the challenge. I see the way you look for me every time you answer one of Yaga’s questions, y’know.” Gojo murmurs, gaze piercing into yours.

He leans in closer - now definitely not on his side of the closet. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d call it chemistry. Admit it and I might consider not calling you ‘hardass’ for a whole week.”

“What- That’s just because- I’d rather be called ‘hardass’ for a lifetime than admit to having any chemistry with you. I can’t even tolerate you for seven minutes here.” you sputter at both his proximity and his (absurd) accusations.

“As the student prez, isn’t your entire job to tolerate everyone? You’re a walking contradiction, sweetheart.”

“I am not. You have no effect on me.” you protest, standing firm. In the heat of your argument, you and Gojo have drawn closer to each other. His breath now fanning your face as he hums, voice a seductive tease, “I do, admit it. There’s a part of you that likes our chemistry.”

A defiant spark ignites in your eyes, “I’ll admit no such thing.”

“Then…hit me like I know you want to if you don’t want this.” he whispers, voice breathless. He closes the distance.

Gojo’s lips meet yours. 

Soft, they were so soft. 

Your heartbeat thundering in surprise, a hand raising to - to what? Smack him away? Eyes fluttering closed, your hand fists his shirt, the other subconsciously finding its way to his cloudy locks. Tugging. Kissing him back. 

Satoru kisses you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, he knows - he probably won’t.

Lips searing against yours, his eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste. Sweet - so sweet - just like candy, with a hint of Baileys and everything that he’ll never be able to have. 

A strangled groan leaves his throat when you bite down on his lips. Tugging with your teeth. Shit, fuck him and his bigass ego, he wanted to be the one showing off his irresistibility but really it’s the other way around. 

Mouth opening to let you in, he drinks in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Large hands on your face pulling you impossibly closer to him in this godforsaken closet. It was dizzying - almost as if it hurt to part, drawn by that familiar magnetism that always seems to hang around you.

Lost in the heat of the moment, Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body. Groping and squeezing every curve and dip - he doesn’t have enough time. He probably never will.

A hand rests firmly on your hips. Awaiting. Breaking away - just a fraction - he breathes out urgently into your lips, “I need to taste you. Let me taste you. Please.”

“Desperate, huh?”

Your gaze pierces through him, it always does. Immediately after your disoriented nod, he presses a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. God, he could do this forever.

You shudder as he hastily bunches your tight dress at your hips, sending blood rushing straight to his cock. Shit, this was not how he expected these 7 minutes to go.

Hurriedly falling to his knees, the pain doesn’t even register when he comes face-to-face with your clothed cunt. Panties already so wet - just for him. Cock twitching carnally, he needed to taste you now. 

Tongue flattening across your swollen folds through your underwear, just a slight taste of your wet pussy and Satoru already thinks he might pass out. Ah, so good - of course you taste heavenly.

“Ah! Gojo- more.”

Pulling away, he feels drunk off the whimper of disappointment that escapes your mouth. “Call me Satoru.” he hums, fingers deftly sliding your soaked panties down your legs. His hot breath fanning your entrance has you clenching your thighs together, desperate for any friction.

Mouth watering at this, Satoru curses the darkness inside the closet - can’t even admire your pretty pussy right. You flinch as his face meets your cunt. Shit, this was better than he’d ever imagined on those lonely nights pathetically fucking his fist.

He breathes you in so sinfully, tongue sliding teasingly between your folds in a leisurely rhythm that almost has him forgetting however many minutes you two have left. Frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either. Sinful squelches fill the confined space, along with your quiet moans of his name. 

“Hngh- S-Satoru. Feel s’good. Faster.” 

Ah, it’s really music to his ears. Your voice plays on repeat in his mind. He doesn’t even realize the call from outside until you look down at him, eyes dazed and kiss-bitten lips moving to panickedly mutter, “Satoru, we only have three more minutes.”

Ah, guess he’ll have to take his time in his dreams. 

“I only need two.” Satoru purrs, lips ghosting your wet core, voice sending goosebumps down your spine - all the way down to your dripping cunt. 

“W-well, stop hngh- running your mouth then.” you retort.

Satoru’s smirk against your plush folds is the last thing you see before he dives nose-deep in your pussy. He doesn’t waste time, tongue dipping in and out of your hole at an unforgiving pace. In and out in and out in and-

“Hah- yes! Satoru jus’ like that!” you hiss out, desperately trying to keep the moans ripping from your throat to a minimum, in fear of the others outside hearing. 

Noticing, Satoru snakes a hand up to your mouth - bullying his ringed-fingers in through your swollen lips. His index caresses your tongue, speeding up his movements on your pretty pussy as you gag around him. Moans catch in your throat as you struggle to accommodate him, the pleasure of being stretched from two ends too much. 

Satoru only has to take one look - tears clinging to your lashes and drool trickling down the corner of your mouth as you suck on his fingers - before he thinks he might just cum in his pants. Fuck, it was so lewd. 

You tighten your grasp on his hair, sure that your knees would give out if it wasn’t for the bruising grip he had on your hips, keeping you firmly on his mouth. Unable to run away. 

Shit, for someone so tight-laced, you were so messy on his mouth. He moans as your slick pools in his mouth, dripping down the corners of his lips. The  tap! tap! tap! of it hitting the hardwood floor rings deafeningly in his ears.

Ah, so this is why they call it 7 minutes in heaven. Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind dying if it was in between your legs being suffocated by your cunt. 

Your entrance clamps down desperately on his tongue, forcing him to bully it into your snug pussy, fucking you unrelentingly. His nose rubbing against your swollen clit over and over. 

At this point, Satoru doesn’t know whether the pulse he feels is that of his heartbeat or your cunt, throbbing and achingly needy for his mouth. His nose stimulates your clit just right, sending shockwaves through your body that have you bucking into him for more.

Voice slightly muffled by his fingers, “Fuck- Satoru, keep going. Hngh- I’m gonna cum!” 

The way your walls desperately try to fuck his tongue has his cock straining so painfully against his trousers. Satoru increases his abuse on your cunt mercilessly, the harsh pace making you squeal and buck into his face. Your juices are now all over his mouth, gushing around his tongue. In and out in and out in and out-

“Satoru!”

You cum hard - all over Satoru’s pretty face.

Now, Satoru loves when you run your mouth and infuriate him, but he might just love it even more when you’re falling apart and speechless under his touch. 

Riding out your high on his features, you can feel yourself quivering around his tongue as he laps up your juices as if it were a delicacy. Deep moans leaving his mouth and vibrating across your soaked cunt, making you jolt at the overstimulation.

Pulling back, Satoru admires your unfocused eyes and bruised lips. “For someone that so fucking despises me, your slutty pussy sure is sucking me in so desperately.” he murmurs, slightly out of breath after what just transpired. 

“Sh-shut up.”

Ah, if only he got to see this view more often. 

You can’t help but feel the same way. Seeing Satoru fucked out, vibrant eyes half-lidded and blown out, your slick prettily glossing all over his mouth and nose. A small voice in the back of your mind wishes he was more like this and not whatever he is when he’s getting on your nerves.

“ONE MORE MINUTE! Finish up whatever devil’s tango or death match y’all are having in there!”

Those troublesome thoughts are pushed out of your mind as soon as you hear Shoko call from outside.

The bubble is broken. Jumping apart as far as possible in the cramped closet, you press yourself into the closet wall as you two wordlessly rush to make yourselves slightly more presentable. The air, once charged with overflowing tension and sex, now so strained.

Bending down to feel for the panties that Satoru- no, Gojo had thrown god-knows-where, your hands graze his - still slightly wet with your spit. Snatching your hands back as if it burned, you make out Gojo’s figure pocketing something.

…

Your panties??

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you hiss, face burning at both his actions and the idea of going outside without panties.

“Just think of it as repayment for the fun.” he hums, mirth spilling into his tone. And before you could snap at his antics, Shoko is ripping the door open and looking around the closet for what you can only assume to be missing body parts and blood.

“Aw, man. And here I was thinking Satoru would be six feet under by now.” she groans, walking off disappointedly - for which you were eternally grateful otherwise she’d have seen the few suspicious stains on the floor.

“Remember, you owe me twenty, Shoko.” Geto speaks up from the circle. Were they…betting on whether you and Gojo would kill each other in there?

Finally stepping out of that godforsaken closet, you catch the smirks and raised eyebrows from some of the people from the group.

Meeting Gojo’s eye, a smirk curls around his swollen lip as he swipes a thumb across it. Agonizingly slow. Teasing. 

Your cheeks flare, something pooling in your stomach. Ugh, this is why you hate frat parties.

“You alright, man? You look…flushed?” you hear Geto question, pointedly staring at Satoru’s slightly disheveled look.

It was all getting too much - the alcohol in the air, the thumping of the overplayed pop music, and him. You felt so lightheaded. Ripping your gaze from Gojo’s you leave without so much as a goodbye to him, only stopping for a reassuring nod at Haibara. You make a beeline for the exit, dashing out of there and down the winding staircase as fast as you could. 

Focused on navigating the packed party, you almost don’t register Gojo rushing after you. Ignoring whatever words were tumbling out of Gojo’s mouth, you silently thank the sorority that had just pulled up - clinging onto him in greeting, making it impossible to follow after you. 

The cool night air washes over you as you finally step outside. You sigh in relief as you leave the chaotic sounds of the party - and him - behind. 

Impatiently waiting for your friend on the way to pick you up, only two thoughts echo in your mind.

He actually only needed two minutes.

What the fuck?

Meanwhile, back in that heady room, Shoko nudges Suguru, the latter still watching in amusement where Satoru had run after you in the door. “Hm?” he asks, absent-mindedly.

“Why do most of these papers have Satoru’s name?”

---

You pass through the next morning in a daze. The hardest part was probably trying to get dressed without making eye contact with the purple finger marks on your hips that Sato- Gojo had left to remember him by.

You still can’t believe that happened. 

It’s alright, it was just a mistake in the heat of the moment - you just have to forget it ever happened, right? But that’s easier said than done when your last class of the day is Advanced Quantum Physics.

Cursing your timetable, you step through the crowded campus. You pull your sweater tighter around yourself, the fabric doing nothing to stop your skin searing where Gojo’s lips had been just last night.

Alright, you just had to get through this one class today. There’s a lot of people in Professor Yaga’s class - it’s not like you’ll necessarily see that bane of your existence-

“Yooo prez, fate just seems to bring us together hmm?” 

Gojo almost topples out of his chair, waving in your direction. As your eyes sweep across the room, you can feel your heart sinking. Shit, you really feel like you’re being Punk’d right now. 

Cursing whoever was up there for this cruel joke, you make your way to the desk beside Satoru’s - the only empty one. 

Slumping down onto the chair with a frustrated huff, you sink into yourself - eyes trained firmly forward and ignoring the playful grin in your peripheral vision.

To your surprise, Gojo doesn’t say a word throughout the lecture. Not a single comment about fucking any professor’s wife - or your cunt. Huh, did last night cause some type of qi deviation or something?

As Professor Yaga drones on about quantum entanglement, you find the words going in one ear and out the other, too focused on wondering what Gojo’s game was.

It’s only towards the end of the lecture, at the introduction of some new assignment that you find yourself finally letting your guard down. Okay, see, it wasn’t too bad. Now time to go back to your apartment and study whatever quantum entanglement was for the next five hours.

“Ah- And remember, the midterm assignment pairings are posted on Canvas.” 

What was that?

God, you hated working with other people. It was much more efficient for you to stay in and finish this paper in one sitting.

“So, partner~ My place or yours?”

What?

The bell rings, its metallic chime resonating in your mind almost as loud as Gojo’s words. Signaling the end of class - and probably the end of your sanity. 

You wish the ground would swallow you up at this very moment. These days have really not been your days.

---

“Literally what do you bring to the table?”

“Comedic relief and my undeniably good looks.”

“...”

“...and also the case study and background information.”

The air at the stuffy café just off-campus was a mixture of freshly ground coffee and hushed conversations - of course, occasionally disrupted by the chaotic debates that erupted from your little booth.

Not too long ago, as everyone moved to file out of the classroom, you were frozen, glaring at your open laptop so intensely you half-expected it to combust - scrutinizing the neat arrangement of Gojo’s name next to your own over a million times.  

Finally sighing in defeat, you nodded in surrender at Gojo - who was whooping in victory. But, you were still adamant on meeting somewhere in public. The last time you two were left alone ended up…interesting. 

“Then you do that and I’ll take care of the rest of the theoretical analysis and evaluation. Okay, sounds good, Gojo.” you deadpan, rubbing the sides of your forehead in frustration. 

“Ouch, no Satoru?”

Ignoring his comment, you promptly slam your laptop closed, gathering your things with a determined sigh. Ready to escape the stifling atmosphere of the cafe. “So you do that and put it on the doc, and I’ll do the same with my parts. See ya.”

That’s when you feel a large hand covering yours - the same one from- “Hey there now, hardass, stay a little longer - gotta make sure you don’t slander quantum entanglement in our essay the same way you do with the Pilot-Wave theory.” Gojo interrupts your intrusive train of thought. 

“What? Unlike you, I don’t slander any scientific theories. Although, I do think the idea of entangled particles jumping around like you do is hardly the hallmark of a stable scientific theory.” you retort, face burning but setting down your bag nonetheless.

Resting his face on his hands, he grins at you. “Oh yeah? I think stability is overrated, prez. Quantum entanglement challenges you because it’s a realm where your precious stability crumbles in the face of non-local correlations.”

God, was he glad he begged on his knees to Yaga to pair you two together. He was having way too much fun with this. 

“Just because particles can communicate faster than you can comprehend doesn't mean we should abandon reason.” you raise a brow. 

“Well, I think you should just embrace the uncertainty, sweetheart. Life is a game of chance, just like quantum entanglement.”

“Oh, really?” you drone out, sarcastically. 

“Yeah, think about it. For instance, I never thought I’d still be alive and breathing after last night. But here I am.” at your stunned silence, he continues. “I for sure thought you’d have the coffin ready as soon as I kissed y-”

You panickedly place your hands over his mouth to shut him up, those blue eyes twinkle in amusement. “When I said you had a big mouth I really wasn’t lying, huh.” 

Slowly removing your hands once it seemed like Gojo wouldn’t spill your endeavors in this family-friendly cafe, you sigh, “Okay- We’ll get some shit done today, alright. But this is the last time I’m meeting with you for this.”

“Mhm~ You got it, prez.”

It was not the last time you met with Gojo for this. 

Nor was it the second-last.

Or the third-last. 

Each and every time you two worked together on the assignment, you’d spend more time bickering about anything ranging from what you’d learned in Professor Yaga’s class that day to whether the old lady who frequented the café was a part of the mafia. 

“I’m telling you, she handles those knitting needles like they’re a weapon.”

“Mhm and she sips her Earl Grey like she’s plotting espionage. Now, get to work before I use my teaspoon as a weapon.”

“I’d rather investigate her than this damn Qiskit simulation.”

“Sure, Gojo. I’ll add her to our list of groundbreaking research projects.”

“Don’t come crying to me when I rub it in your face once we see her on the news as a mafia queenpin, prez.”

You’re pretty sure the café employees have a love-hate relationship with you and Gojo - too lively to be one of their favorite regulars, but arguments too amusing to kick you two out. 

And as for your relationship with Gojo…well. It’s not as if you can’t go 7 minutes without being somewhat civil, and yet that’s exactly the issue, isn’t it?

After what had happened that night, it feels as if there’s something charging the air whenever you two are together.

You chalk it up to just lingering tension, but that still doesn’t explain the way Gojo’s eyes hold a warm twinkle whenever he looks at you - gaze a little too warm than you’d expect a rival to have. But it’s fine, you just have to ace this assignment and then this strange dynamic can go back to normal.

It’s only towards the end of your assignment that you realize how wrong you really were.

---

Out of breath and darting across campus towards where you knew Gojo was waiting, you half-wish you joined the track team instead of the student government. Damn student reps, can’t keep proper archives.

As much as you got a kick out of getting on Gojo’s nerves, you hated to keep anyone waiting.

“Ah! Prez! Was heartbroken thinking you’d stood me up, y’know?” Satoru calls once he spots you bolting towards him on that dimly-lit pathway. Wow, maybe you should’ve joined the track team.

You trip. Ah, maybe not.

Feet automatically hastening your way, he catches you. Well, more like you fall into his arms.

“Just in time, huh?” he chuckles, thankful for the sun dipping below the horizon - otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flush tinting his cheeks. Arms wrapped around your waist and supporting your waist, Satoru almost coos at the surprised look gracing your face. You always did something to his heart.

Hastily distancing himself from you once you stand on your own, he rambles - anything to drown out the banging of his heart against his chest. “So, I’m assuming you were out there doing all your president-ly duties?” 

“Ah! Yes, I’m so sorry, the meeting ran overtime and-” 

Listening to you rant, Satoru thinks that he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. He’s only snapped out his reverie at your disappointed groan. Oh, what was this? He didn’t even realize his feet had carried him to the little café already. 

Ripping his eyes from you, he turns to what moping at. A sign with red writing is plastered over the very locked café entrance - Sorry! Staff training today, hope to see you tomorrow!

“Seems like everyone’s got meetings today.” he hears you grumble. Satoru knows it isn’t right, but his heart leaps slightly at the chance to get to know you outside of that familiar cafe.

You, meanwhile, felt tension - and something else - pooling in your stomach. Shit, if the sanctuary of your café is no longer available…

“Well, we could just go home and finish off the paper by ourselves. It’s only the last bit anyway.” you suggest, voice slightly shaky at the idea and anticipation of actually being alone with Gojo after so long. 

“But Suguru’s such a loud snorer, I’d never get any work done.” Gojo whines. Well, there goes that plan.

“The library?”

“I hear it’s haunted this time of year.” he answers right away. 

“Ghosts are seasonal?” you ask absent-mindedly, too focused on weighing between the need to finish this assignment today and the uncertainty of what would happen between you and Gojo.

A tense silence fills the slowly darkening street as you go through all your options. Finally, watching the long shadows casted now, you sigh. “Fine. We’ll go to my place.” you mutter out. 

“Would you get angry if I celebrated right now?”

“Maybe.”

The walk to your apartment is bathed in the soft orange glow of the setting sun. It was almost peaceful - if it weren’t for Gojo’s excited chattering about god-knows-what. 

Your mind was running a million miles a minute. Was something like last time going to happen? Were you a lecher for expecting it? Why didn’t you mind the thought as much as you think you should?

You risk a glance at Satoru, who was in the middle of a passionate speech about how ketchup was a valid condiment on pasta. Soft sunlight paints his hair an amber hue, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features, eyes sparkling with passion and mischief. He was beautiful.

Wait. Beautiful?

“Hey isn’t this your apartment building or is walking past it a pre-entrance ritual?” 

Ah. Whoops.

You snap out of those ridiculous notions, gathering whatever dignity you have left to walk back to the apartment complex you’d left in the dust while wrapped up in your thoughts.

“Oooo, didn’t take you for much of a decorator, hardass.” Gojo comments, flitting about your cozy apartment to look at all the little knick-knacks and pictures 

“Did you really think I lived in some sterile lab?” you retort. Gojo’s almost-endearing curiosity amuses you enough to let go of the electricity thrumming through your body at having him so close. In your home. 

“Well, I expected more beakers and fewer fairy lights, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, pretending to be offended. “Believe it or not, Gojo, hardasses can have a sense of style, too.”

He continues his exploration, stopping in front of a photo on the wall. “Who’s this model?” he grins, pointing at a picture of you in stuffy formal attire at some conference.

You sigh, knowing exactly which photo he's referring to. “That, Gojo, is me at a conference presenting a groundbreaking research paper.”

“Groundbreaking, huh? Is that what they call it these days?” he hums, arching an eyebrow playfully. 

“Yes, and six feet under is what they’ll be calling you if you don’t get your ass here and finish this paper.”

“...yes, prez.”

Writing the conclusion and inserting citations is always the fun part. If you could write an essay on whatever you want, it would be only conclusions and citations, you think.

After a few hours of working on your paper, apparently Gojo does not feel the same way.

“Fuck Noodletools. All my homies hate Noodletools.”

“This is why you only have two friends, Gojo.”

“Hey! I’m a very likable person, y’know.” 

“...”

He sets his laptop down leaning closer to you over where he was seated opposite you on the coffee table, clearly bored of citations for the time being. “Also, aren’t we friends, sweetheart? Technically I have three.”

You raise a brow, this was the first time Satoru had ever addressed the strange dynamic you two had. “Are we?” you ask, genuinely. 

A deafening silence envelopes your living room. This was the first time you’d seen such a serious expression take over Gojo’s face as he answers, voice even, “I’m not sure.”

The atmosphere thickens with a charged tension, the weight of Gojo’s words lingering in the room. A spark flickers in his eyes. You feel like you could almost get whiplash from the contrast between the heated banter to where you two were now. Was it always so hot in this room?

You let out a strained laugh, attempting to diffuse the seriousness and go back to a trivial territory you were more familiar with. “I never thought the great Gojo Satoru would be uncertain about something.” Your eyes flicker unwillingly from his intense gaze to his worry-bitten lips.

The mischief returning to his gleaming eyes, he smirks “Uncertainty can be thrilling, don't you think, sweetheart?”

You don’t even know what to say to that - and you don’t have to. Because before you can respond, Gojo swiftly leans over the coffee table - catching your lips in a sudden, electrifying kiss. 

Time stands still. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize that you didn’t want to push him away. At all. In fact, you grab a fistful of his soft locks, pulling him impossibly deeper into the kiss. 

Pulling away mere millimeters, Gojo’s hot breath fanning your mouth as he whispers, “Told you the uncertainty is thrilling, sweetheart.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” you grumble, irritated because his lips ghosting yours was not enough.

Before you know it, Gojo has you pinned against the plush couch. His lips finding your, the kiss deepening as he yearns for that desperate connection - as if each breath depends on smothering you with dizzying kisses. 

The room seems to shrink, right now only filled with the heated exchange of breaths and the feeling of Satoru’s lips searing into yours. 

You think he tastes like caramel and uncertainty - yet, this time, you fall into the unknown with open arms. Wrapping your legs around his toned waist, your arms around his broad shoulders - bringing him to you so close you’d think the laws of physics were taking a coffee break.

It almost hurt. 

The intensity of the moment only growing, the atmosphere in your homey apartment crackles with a tension that you knew in the back of your mind had been building for so long - ever since that party.

Your heartbeat echoes in your ears. You knew this would happen.

And a part of you needed it to.

His fingers trace a path along your jawline, leaving a trail of heat - you shudder, craving for more. 

“Gojo, I want you.” you breathe out, words muffled by Satoru sucking sinfully on your lips. 

He pulls away slightly, delicate strings of saliva still connecting him to you. Every fiber of his being resisting to part.

“Don’t call me that.” he purrs out, the intensity of his half-lidded stare sending a jolt straight down to your heated core. “It’s Satoru when we’re fucking, remember?”

Looking into his sultry eyes, for the first time ever you decide to heed what Satoru says. “S-Satoru, please.” you whimper, hips bucking up to meet his own. You can feel the large outline of his achingly hard cock straining against those stupidly overpriced trousers, pussy quivering in anticipation. 

Now, there have been three times in his life that Satoru thinks he has died and gone to heaven. The first being when he discovered that the ramen joint by his dorm also had free Wi-Fi. Second, that first day in Advanced Quantum Physics when you snapped at him told him to shut the fuck up. 

And finally, right now, as he’s got you needy and squirming underneath him - such pretty gasps of his name leaving your kiss-bitten lips. 

God, navigating quantum physics is a walk in the park in comparison to what you put his heart through. 

“Hmm, never in my life thought I’d see his view, sweetheart.” he whispers lowly into your ear, delighting in the goosebumps that erupt along your alluring body. How did he get so lucky?

Hastily pulling down your shorts, his mouth waters at your wet panties. Another prize for him, hm? Throwing them along with your panties to god-knows-where, Satoru drinks in the sight of your bare pussy - a privilege that he didn’t get in that godforsaken closet. 

Ah, so ready and dripping for him already. Your slick glistens out of your heated entrance as you clench around nothing. “Aww, they’ve faded.” he whines, heart lurching at the lack of his marks from last time.

It’s alright, he can just make more.

Not one to waste time, with a bruising grip holding your hips steady, Satoru grinds his painfully hard cock into your needy cunt, savoring the pretty mewls that leave your mouth. The way your swollen pussy quivers against him makes him throw his head back, seeing stars already. 

Nipping along your neck, leaving marks he knows you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. “Sit on m’face,” he murmurs into your skin.

“W-what?”

Pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the valley of your breasts, Satoru breathes you in. Fuck, he prefers the smell of your skin to any scent in the world. “Sit- on- my- face.” he repeats, words punctuated with erotic kisses to your hardened nipples, tongue flicking them through the fabric of your clothes. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know?” you gasp. Yet, still shifting on that cramped couch. Why do you two always fuck in the most inconvenient places?

Satoru’s legs hang off the end of your couch as he lays on his back, you’d almost find the position funny - if it weren’t for you straddling his head. 

His hot breath on your wet cunt sends waves of electricity though your entire body as you hover over his mouth. Your needy pussy right above where his mouth is, hesitating. Your slick oozes slowly through your swollen folds - drip! drip! drip! onto his awaiting tongue, brows furrowing and eyes rolling to the back of his head at your sweet juices.

“Mhm, and I hope that you’ll be the death of me.” he hums, tongue savoring your taste.

It’s the last thing said before Satoru surges forward, plunging mouth-first into your heated cunt. 

Despite not being on a time crunch this time, Satoru doesn’t waste a moment teasing - he already has you splayed out and aching for him, what more could he want?

He bullies his tongue into your snug cunt, pushing past the first ring of muscle. You twitch around him, sweet moans spilling incessantly from your mouth. “Ah! Hngh- Satoru! Fuck s’good.”

Your sounds of pleasure going straight to his dick, he bucks into your hands. Ah, more. He needs your touch more. 

The feeling of your plush walls clamping down on him only spurs him on further, fucking you at a ruthless pace. One hand gropes across your body, resting a thumb on your clit that rubs tight circles, making you grind down further into his mouth. 

“Your pussy is so honest, sweetheart. She wants me so badly.” he murmurs, voice sending vibrations that make you let out a loud moan which he suspects your neighbors would be complaining about. 

You were so perfect for him, Satoru thinks he might go insane.

You were definitely going insane.

Satoru shows no mercy, his abuse on your dripping cunt only speeding up at every buck of your hips into his tongue. It felt so fucking good. 

Closing your eyes, his pressure on your core has you seeing spots behind your vision. You could feel the curl of his signature smirk against your folds as your pussy tries sucking him back in at every thrust. Too good to let him go. “Knew you loved this ‘big mouth’, hardass.” he murmurs. 

Shit, you can’t be the only one acting so needy like this.

“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” Satoru drawls, voice muffled by your cunt as he feels the breeze of his lower abdomen hitting the heady air of your living room.

“Payback.” is all you mutter out as you fumble his trousers down his long legs. Curse these gyms. Curse squats. Why did he have to be so perfectly sculpted? An Adonis in his true form. 

You can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth as his boxers come into view - rock-hard cock straining painfully against it A patch of pre-cum pools at his head - he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. Hands shaky from the way Satoru’s incessant tongue was fucking into you, you shuffle his boxers down. 

Satoru’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. Fuck- how the hell were you supposed to take him? Life was really unfortunate - water was wet, and Gojo Satoru has a huge dick.

“S-sweetheart, you don’t have to-” he murmurs against your swollen pussy. 

From all your times shutting up Gojo Satoru, this one might just be your favorite. 

His words catch desperately in his throat as you spit out a pool of saliva onto Satoru’s furiously flushed head. A low hiss leaving him as you teasingly lick his sensitive slit. 

Never one to back down from a challenge, Satoru attaches his lips with yours once more. He groans lowly into you, the stimulation making you yelp in surprise. 

“So, it’s like that, huh?” 

Satoru doesn’t have the time to ponder your words before you take in as much of his length as you can in one go. “Ah! Hah- Oh fuck, prez. Always knew you were a forceful woman.”

You moan at the slightly salty taste of his precum. Gagging around him, drool drips down the corner of your mouth as you try to take him in inch by fucking inch. It was so fucking messy.

Diving nose-deep in your cunt once again, Satoru continues the merciless pace of his tongue once more. Both your muffled moans fill the heated room, lost in the pleasure and the heat of the moment.

Shit, you knew by the way your walls clenched down on his tongue that you weren’t gonna last long. And judging by the urgent twitching of Satoru’s cock - he wasn’t going to either. 

He fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth, your eyes watering as his tip hits the back of your throat. Ropes of spit and precum decorate your lips. Even the staunch part of you that never backs down for anyone cheers at being so used. It’s so fucking debauched.

Your hand moves down to massage his heavy balls, tugging and pulling at a rhythm that matches the rapid ministrations of his thumb on your swollen clit.

Mind spinning and pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming as you both lean closer and closer to your highs. With a final mewl around his thick cock, your juices are gushing all around Satoru’s mouth. 

Your mind blanks as you cum, the only things registering being the tingles of your oversensitive pussy as Satoru rides you through your high on his tongue and the taste of Satoru as he cums in hot spurts in your mouth. Salty, with a hint of sweet - the flavor making your pussy twitch.

Fucking his seed into you, your mouth milks his cock. His cum dribbling down the corner of your mouth, all thoughts of dirtying your couch go out your brain when you hear the fucked out whines at the back of Satoru’s throat.

Fuck a refractory period, you wanted to hear that more.

You remove yourself from him with a lewd pop! Cum flowing smoothly down your throat, you lock eyes with Satoru over your shoulder. His jaw drops, pupils blown lustfully as your tongue sticks out - showing the way you’ve swallowed every single drop of his seed.

“Now, Satoru. I need you to fuck me with yours cock just as you did with your tongue.” your words still strained from your orgasm.

Wordlessly, Satoru nods, eyes shining - still reeling from the sinful sight of your bruised lips glossy with his cum - his cum that you swallowed as if it was a delicacy.

Meanwhile you were thinking that you should fuck Satoru more if it meant you got him to shut up and be pretty more often. 

Slightly more clear-headed now, just as lustful. 

Your couch creaks in protest as you shift positions to face Satoru once more. He seizes your lips in a passionate kiss, mouth attacking yours with a desperation for your essence.

Your head spins as you taste yourselves on each other, words tumbling out of your mouth in the haze, “Satoru, bed- now.”

But when has he not challenged you?

“Mhm, anything you say, prez.” he whispers raspily against your lips, still-hard cock teasingly dragging along your swollen folds. 

“Satoru.”

“Fuck yes. Say m’name, sweetheart.” he groans out, throwing his head back against the armrest. Your slick pools all over Satoru’s thick head, dripping sensually down his length to where he gripped tightly at the base. 

Swollen lips dropping into a small “oh”, he slides a ringed hand up his member, spreading your juices. Cock twitching carnally at the way your pussy was leaking all over him, he grits out, “Need to feel you around my cock now, sweetheart.”

So he does.

Thick head pressing into your tight entrance, a low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully tight you were. Fuck, he could just about pass out right now.

“S’tight, sweetheart. So good.” he fucks up into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips - impatience quickly waning. You yelp at each thrust, walls burning with the stretch of Satoru’s thick head. 

You try to steady yourself as Satoru’s thrusts get deeper and deeper, nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. In the midst of it all you still manage to impatiently slur out, “I-if you’re gonna fuck me then hah- fuck me like you mean it, Satoru.”

Oh, that did it.

Your words make the last bit of sanity Satoru had left snap. 

In a swift movement, he sheaths his throbbing erection in your wet cunt completely. A gasp gets caught in his throat at the way your walls were clamping down on him in surprise. 

He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and a dangerously predatory glint in them that sends shivers down your spine. “Fuck me like I mean it, huh? You’re quite bossy, y’know that, prez?”

Before you can retort - and probably dig your grave deeper - he stands up in one fluid motion, your legs around his waist and cock still buried deep in your snug pussy. You moan at the change in angle, his tip now kissing your cervix so deliciously painfully. Shit, you feel so full. 

Hands moving down to grope your ass firmly and support your weight, he grins lowly in your ear, “You’re lucky I love that part of you.”

The wall is cold as Satoru shoves your back against it. his body making the air leave your lungs as he presses into yours, ramming into you at a merciless pace. Your tight cunt clenches so tightly around him, as if to prevent him from leaving. 

Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy. His lips capture yours once again in a rough dance that matches the cadence of his hips.

You mewl against his mouth at the feeling of his heavy balls stinging your skin as they smack your ass. The power behind each harsh thrust has you bouncing against the wall, legs pulling tighter around his toned waist to bully his cock impossibly deeper in you. 

“Where- fuck! Where’s the bed?” he moans breathlessly against your lips, voice sounding as if each thrust of his pulsing cock into your plush walls sends him spiraling deeper into insanity.

“Down- down the hallway. Hngh- fuck, Satoru!” you not far behind.

Your mind is foggy, barely even registering as Satoru moves blindly towards your bedroom with powerful strides - not yet pulling out of you.

He doesn’t get very far before he’s got you sprawled over your bedroom floor, your carpet digging into you as his cock slams into your abused cunt with that feral pace he loves so much. Not even making it to the bed.

“Ah! Hah- Satoru, what happened to the bed?” you sputter out in-between uncontrollable moans. 

“Too far. Hngh- need you now.” he answers around your breasts, teasing and tweaking your sensitive nipples.

“Wh-who’s irresistible now?” you manage to smirk, relishing in the huff of laughter that escapes him. Even now, you always did manage to one-up him.

“Mhm, you’ve always been irresistible, sweetheart.” he mutters, moving to press a chaste kiss against your forehead, not sure whether the words were even meant for you to hear. 

And you know it’s just pussy-drunk talk, but right now you can’t help the way your cheeks heat up, heartbeat ringing in your ears. 

Not sure how to respond to that, you pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his burning face in the crook of your neck. Maybe right now neither of you needed to speak, your bodies doing enough talking as Satoru continues his relentless cadence.

Your hips bucking up to meet his, you whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room as Satoru moves down a hand to draw rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit. It was all too much. “S-Satoru.”

“Me too, my sweetheart. Me too.” is all he gasps out, teeth digging into your neck at the pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Satoru’s tight balls twitch as they smack your ass, cock glistening with cum and slick. He sees stars behind his eyes - or maybe those were tears at the overstimulation. He really doesn’t know anymore. 

Head spinning and thoughts racing with only Satoru Satoru Satoru, you’re very much in the same state. 

“Satoru?” you whine out, tears clinging to your lashes.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You pull him into an intense kiss, pussy clamping down on him desperately as his lips brand yours - it sends you both over the edge. 

Satoru thinks he sees heaven as he cums, and you were probably an angel. 

Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your walls white, cunt quivering around him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forms around his base as he fucks his seed into you desperately, marking you so obviously as his. All thoughts of Plan B run out of your mind at the overstimulated whimpers leaving Satoru’s ruby lips.

His dick twitches inside you as his unforgiving thrusts slow down to shallow grinds of his hips, nothing more than to keep his cum inside of you as your highs bate.

Body collapsing onto yours, careful to not crush you with his weight, Satoru pulls you closer to him. And despite everything that happened this evening, he thinks that this might be what makes his ears burn red the most. Your body so vulnerably connected with his own. Just the two of you in this quiet world.

The silence feels intimate and fragile. Brain still hazy from your orgasms, you don’t think you’ve ever quite looked at your bedroom ceiling from his angle. 

Strangely enough, Satoru’s warm weight on you feels comforting. Neither of you speak now. Nor do you speak when Satoru carries you to bed, searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe you clean with. 

It’s only when he lingers at the foot of your bed - uncertain - that the silence is broken. “Get in, stupid.” you scoff, opening the covers invitingly.

Of course, an elated smile overtaking his face, Satoru jumps in your bed with enough force to send you both bouncing. It was childish. It was so ridiculous. It had you barking out a surprised laugh at his antics.

In your joy, you don’t even realize that Satoru has stopped moving - frozen, smile slipping off his face and staring at you with an unknown spark in his eyes. 

“What?” you question, feeling strangely self-conscious. 

White locks tousling as he shakes his head, he breathes, “It’s the first time I’ve made you laugh.” The words hang in the delicate atmosphere, tension so thick you think it could snap any moment.

You hide your face in your hands, palms clammy. “You- you make me sound like some sort of evil witch.” you stammer out, embarrassment pooling in your gut. The tension in the air dissipates, yet the intensity in Satoru’s gaze remains.

Satoru understands, smiling blindingly. He pulls your naked body to his, wrapping his arms tenderly around your waist as you both bury into the covers. “Well, more of a hardass than an evil witch.”

“Satoru?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You still have to finish your citations.”

A/N. Can be read as a standalone BUT part 2 planned for next longfic Sunday!

Plagiarism not authorized.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 31 - Werewolves]

Pairing: Alpha Dom!Jungkook x f. Omega sub!Reader

Genre: childhood best friends to enemies to lovers!AU, werewolf!AU

Warnings: Kook is kinda cold at first, it is implied that OC gets sold into a forced marriage where she will be tortured and assaulted (not to Kook but a villain character hahaha), yeah...her future is not looking good, or is it?, Koo might have a plan :----)

Kinks: the trope of "just the tip" and "we shouldn't be doing this", yeah besties i went there, sex in a shed in the forest, sex by the bonfire, nudity, naked cuddling for warmth *wink wink*, he is bigger and stronger than her, size & muscle & strength kink, he pins her down, fuck i'm literally so small when it comes to him like bro please i have so many thots, hahah sorry i'm really into him haahah, he pins her wrists & puts his hand over her mouth to silence her, huge werwolf dick, knotting, multiple orgasms for both, "just the tip" in spooning position, clit massages, rough penetrative sex in pronebone & doggy style, he has her in a headlock at one point, breeding for the sake of scent marking her, so much fucking cum oh lord, dirty talk, he has fangs, he bites her shoulder, he growls, what if i was weak?? what then??, tears, eye contact, this is emotional & has plot and i wanna write more about them, cuddly & safe aftercare, the plot in this is so good omfg

Wordcount: 11.5k

a/n: Click here if you wanna see his dick. I have zero (0) Z E R O knowledge of the workings of the omegaverse. i know that there’s alphas and betas and omegas but that’s it. and that there is heat and knots and slick and scenting(?) but how the dynamics work or what ABO each means? no clue. so if this is inaccurate, bear with me and let's see it as my interpretation of werwolves instead. Okay? Okay. Jjssjjs i also added this idea to the mix ps: i actually don't wanna talk about this, i need to recover first BRO GOODBYE this was kinktober 2024 besties FJJDF what a way to end it tbfh

The storm caught you by surprise. You wouldn’t particularly mind it if it wasn’t for the company you have to keep. 

Jeon Jungkook. A stubborn, self-centred peacock of a man who thinks he is something just because he is the son of the alpha. 

Now, to perhaps understand the situation a little better, one might need what the literary world calls backstory. 

You lived in a small mountain town far away from any big human city. The town was surrounded by high walls and visitors rarely found their way to it. It was wanted by the townspeople because you weren’t particularly human. Most humans would call you demons, but you like to call yourselves werewolves. You lived in a pack and the town was your lair.

You can be human but also turn into a wolf by choice. Some choose to keep some of their wolfish features such as their golden eyes or sharp fangs, while others looked entirely human when they walked on two legs. 

Jeon Jungkook was the son of the pack alpha and therefore heir of the title. His mother was an alpha as well, which naturally gave him the alpha gen. He was stronger and faster than the other wolves in the pack and he had control over his body during the full moon. He never hid his fangs and showed his golden eyes whenever he was provoked. He earned his pack tattoos when he was twelve after killing three enemy wolves and when he turned eighteen, he earned the pack piercings after fulfilling the maturity rituals within a day. Something only his father managed to do before him.

Ever since that day, Jungkook became even more obnoxious and unlikable than he already was.

You weren’t so lucky. Born as an omega into a normal family with normal siblings in a normal house, your life has been pretty…normal. You are the same age as Jungkook, which naturally made you go to the same classes from elementary to high school. And throughout your academic career, you never learned to like him. 

He was an alpha while you were an omega. You were the only one like this from your family, but they never treated you differently. You were a beloved and cherished family member and therefore lived a normal life until your older brother made a mistake and you had to carry the consequences.

He killed the promised omega wife of the enemy’s alpha’s son. The warring alpha wanted to slaughter the entire town at first, but Jungkook’s father persuaded him to take revenge another way. Take one of the village’s omegas and marry her to his son. “She will be complacent and quiet. Once she is married, she will be your property. You can take out your anger on her.” So Jungkook’s father told him and the enemy alpha agreed happily. One night later, you were dragged from your home with no way to escape your future. You were born this way, it wasn’t your fault and now it would be your death sentence. You cursed your brother that night who begged to be taken in your stead. You told him to choke on it. It was the last thing you said to him and probably will ever say to him. You already started to regret it. 

Jungkook was ordered to make sure that you would arrive at the enemy village safe and sound. It has been three days ever since that night and all your hatred for anyone and anything has been directed solely at him. 

“The rain’s annoying me. Let’s take shelter”, Jungkook says dryly. 

“No.” 

Jungkook glares at you.

“Yes”, he hisses, grabbing your arm by your elbow to drag you to a shed nearby. “I’m not gonna walk in the rain. Besides, it’s late. We need to rest.” 

“Let go of me”, you protest, stumbling after him. There isn’t much that you can do. He is stronger and bigger and because of his status, he naturally has almost instinctive control over your actions. You could fight against these instincts, but it’s a lot easier not to. 

“Would you rather get sick in the rain?” 

“Maybe, yes. Maybe I’ll get sick enough to die. At least like this, I won’t be sold into torture”, you spit, ripping yourself free from his grasp. Again, all your hatred and anger is directed towards him, so it is easy to fight your instincts right now. 

Jungkook gawks at you in surprise. 

“I mean it”, you insist.

He frowns. He steps close and lifts you off the ground, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Hey! Let me down, you fuck!” you yell, flashing your fangs and kicking around you. 

Jungkook merely shoulders you better and walks, frowning deeply. 

“You brought this onto yourself.” 

“I hate you. I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. You big, smelling piece of shit.” 

Jungkook kicks the shed open and drops you. You stumble in surprise, but catch yourself pretty quickly. You and he are mere inches away, sharing air. The constant lighting cutting the sky illuminates your angry faces. You and Jungkook have your golden eyes out and show off your fangs. Your bodies are steaming as your increased body heats dry the water. 

“I’m gonna let it slip because we were classmates, but insult me again and I will make you be quiet. Understood?” he gnarls. 

You step closer, making him taste your words. 

“Go kiss my ass.” 

You turn your back to him and stomp further into the shed.

The shed wasn’t much bigger than ten square meters. There were tools on each wall and some tools scattered around the ground. Clearly it was meant as storage for woodworkers. One corner had neat stacks of wood and on a table, some blankets were stacked in case some of the workers needed to stay the night.

“Great. That’s luxury,  isn’t it?” you grumble.

The door slams closed behind you, making you flinch. You don’t look however, wanting to appear stronger than you feel. In truth, you are scared and alone and heartbroken. You are frightened. You are sad. You are afraid. You are helpless and hopeless. And you are only a little bit angry. As you walked, you couldn’t stop crying. You were happy for the rain because it masked the constant tears running down your face and you were happy for the loud thunder masking your sobs.

You are being sold like property to a man who will torture you for sports. All you want is to be home and to be held and to have someone pay for your fucking therapy because, goddamn, you are going to need a hell lot of therapy if you should survive this. 

Jungkook is the last person you want to be with right now. He lacks empathy and kindness and has a tendency to impulsive anger. You are waiting for him to hurt you after slamming the door, frozen on the spot. 

But it doesn’t come. Instead, he swerves past you to get firewood. You can only watch him, frozen like a scared little girl despite having long moved past your second decade on this cruel earth. 

Jungkook uses his claws to ignite the fire by scratching them over a stone. He blows into the amber until it forms flames, then he stands up. He hooks his fingers in his shirt and takes it off. 

You gasp and look away. You don’t know what he is going to do but it scares you. Is he going to test you out now? Make sure that the alpha is going to get a good delivery?

“Relax. I need to dry my clothes and I can’t do that on my body. I’ll catch a cold otherwise.”

“Oh.” 

Jungkook scoffs and starts unbuckling his belt. You watch his tattooed fingers work. He is wearing heavy silver rings on them. Yep, your people can handle silver without pain. It’s only a myth that it hurts you. Just as garlic being lethal for vampires is a myth. Humans like to tell these tales to sleep better at night.

Jungkook begins taking off his pants, meeting your gawking eyes.

“Stop staring and bring the blankets instead.”

“Oh, uhm. Sorry.” 

You instinctively obey. 

“Make a bed by the fire. Away from the door.” 

You obey again. 

Afterwards you lift your head, having to gasp and stare. What? Stare? Why can’t you look away? 

He is completely naked, currently hanging up his clothes on a chair. You should want to look away but you can’t. His body is sculpted, his muscles well defined. He currently has his back turned to you. It is so big and broad, contrasting against his small waist. Shit, his legs and butt are so big and sculpted in comparison to it. His back is covered scars. Slashes, bite marks, cuts. Some seem to have dug very deep when fresh.

“Just spit it out”, Jungkook hisses, rolling his shoulders which makes his back muscles shift and flex.

“What?” 

“I can feel you staring. Just say what you wanna say.” 

“Your back. It’s covered in scars.” 

Jungkook touches his own back, tracing the scars he can reach.

“I guess it is.”

“Who did this to you?” 

“Too many people to count.”

“What happened to them?” 

“The fact that I’m still here and they’re not, should be answer enough. Shouldn’t it?” 

You gulp. 

Jungkook turns.

You gulp even harder. Look away! You know that no matter how hard you beg your eyes, they won’t look away. It is like they are enchanted.

His pecs are big, clearly sculpted and strong. His stomach is defined, carrying scars as well. But what truly catches your eyes is his cock. Sitting under a dark, masculine bush of pubes, it glistens in the shine of the fire. It is big, even soft, a little tanner than the rest of his skin and sitting against a pair of big, plumb balls made for breeding. So this is what the cock of an alpha looks like. The effect it has on you is embarrassing. You feel slick build up in your holes and saliva collect in your mouth. 

“Quit your staring. It’s like you’ve never seen a dick before.” 

You shake out of your trance, looking away in embarrassment. Your face feels on fire. Holy fuck, what is wrong with you? 

“You have seen dick before, right? Weren’t you and Tae a thing in high school?” he talks as he gets under the blanket. 

“Uh, yeah, uh. We were.” 

“And knowing Tae, he fucked you. Didn’t he?” 

You turn away in embarrassment, rubbing the side of your neck. Of course he did, but Jungkook doesn’t need to know that. 

He figures it out instantly however, glancing at your middle when you aren’t looking. Just for a second, nothing more.

“So stop being weird about it”, he says and lies down. 

You shrink. Jungkook studies you. You are trembling in your wet, cold clothes. He pities you.

“Get naked and hang your clothes up to dry”, he orders.

You want to move in obedience at first, but then stop. You are too scared to obey instinctively.

“No. Close your eyes.”

Jungkook groans and closes his eyes.

“You’re so stuck up. You should practice being naked in front of other people. I heard that Alpha Urquard likes for his pack to watch wedding nights.”

You bite down tears. Great. Not only will you be assaulted, it will happen in front of god knows how many people. What if you just throw yourself onto one of the sharp tools? It would be a bitch way to go, but it’s better than what will happen to you. 

You ogle the pitchfork. Maybe you could do it. Maybe.

“Hey!”

You snap out of it. You whip around, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.

“Hurry up and come here.”

“What?”

“Come here. It’s better than over there.”

You ogle the pitchfork then his darkened face. Did he figure you out?

“I’m not gonna repeat myself. Get out of your wet clothes and come to me.”

“Ple-please close your eyes.”

Jungkook sighs in defeat and obeys. With shaking fingers, you get naked. With trembling knees, you walk to his side. With weak muscles, you get under the blanket next to him. There is only one blanket and you try your fucking hardest not to touch his body in any kind of way. He left you the spot closer by the fire so you were warmer and he could oversee the door.

Jungkook, who senses your presence, opens his eyes. He studies your face, then your body. You have the blanket pulled up to your neck, shivering uncontrollably. Even now, you seem plagued by the cold.

He furrows his brows in distaste and closes the distance. He manages to put his arm around you before your quiet beg freezes him.

“Please don’t hurt me.” 

He moves away, studying you in shock. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your fingers are trembling as you grasp the blanket.

“Why would I hurt you?”

The honest confusion in his voice forces you to open your eyes.

The fire casts deep shadows into his face as much as it illuminates other parts of it. His wet hair is drying slowly, sticking to his wrinkled forehead. He is furrowing his brows which explains the wrinkles.

“Why would I hurt you?” he repeats his question with more urgency. 

“I don’t know.”

“I was ordered to make sure that you arrive unharmed to Urquard. The last thing I’ll do is hurt you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Please don’t?” 

“Don’t make sure that I arrive safely.” 

Jungkook blinks in surprise. Such vulnerability isn’t what he expected from the once feisty, rude woman of before. You are tiny in fear, trembling uncontrollably and begging him with greyed, hopeless eyes. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re gonna be an alpha’s wife. That’s every omega’s dream”, he snarls, sounding weirdly jealous. 

You burst into tears instantly, turning your back to him as you curl into a small ball. You wail loudly, unable to pretend any longer. You don’t want to be married off. You don’t want it.

“No, uh… stop crying. I, I’m ordering you to stop crying”, he panics, hissing his words which only makes you cry harder. 

He stares for a while, fumbling with his words. In the end he doesn’t know what to say, turning off his brain to speak from his heart instead.

“Don’t cry, it’s gonna be okay”, he says softly, rubbing your shoulder.

His touch is tender and soothing. You sob despite it or perhaps because of it. It feels so weird to receive because it is nice. 

“Hey, it’s okay”, he tells you, draping his arm over you. Like this, your bodies are touching under the blanket. He feels so warm against your skin. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“It’s not gonna be okay. I’m being sold like a pig to a man who likes to watch his daughters in law get raped in front of the entire pack and who will use every second of his life to torture me.” You shrink into yourself. “I just wanna die. I’m so scared.” 

“Hey no, don’t say that. Don’t be scared, I’m here.” 

“I heard that Urquard killed his first wife by ramming a medal hook into her stomach and hanging her like this. All because she couldn’t give him a child with the alpha gen. Please just kill me, please.” 

“I’m not gonna kill you, ___.”

The last time Jungkook said your name, you and he were both eleven and played adventurers in the forest. He celebrated his twelfth birthday two weeks later and another two weeks later, he killed those three wolves and got his tattoos. He stopped playing with you and stopped saying your name. Quite frankly, he stopped playing with any children since that day, saying stuff like “a man wouldn’t play stupid stuff” or “my father says that it’s weak to play” and he became quiet and distant. Maybe he became sadder as well and lonelier. 

Your name from his tongue after almost fifteen years forces you to turn in his arms. For just a second, the same innocent and playful boy looks back at you before you blink and come back to reality. His features and eyes are still the same shape and colour but he seemed to have grown into them. His left cheek carries a scar these days and his brows are furrowed more than they are relaxed. 

“I’m not gonna kill you, ___. And I’m not gonna let you kill yourself either.”

“So you would rather see me sold to a monster?” You squeeze out tears of anger and frustration. “I hate you so much. You sadistic, heartless piece of shit.”

Jungkook frowns deeper.

“You alphas are all the same. You think just because you are stronger than the rest of us, you can push us around like cattle. We aren’t cattle. We are people, we live normal and good lives. We are nothing special but that’s good. We’re boring and mundane but we love deeply. Unlike you disgusting, selfish alphas who see us as nothing but merchandise.”

“Are you done now?”

“I’ve only started. You are heartless, selfish, self-absorbed, apathetic and a snob. At the spot where your heart once was, a rotten piece of coal is sitting and when you talk, plants die out of spite.” 

“Anything else you like to add?” 

“You are the worst person to ever exist. You are elitist and stubborn and way too obsessed with status. And you…” Your eyes fill with tears. “...you broke my heart before I even knew what heartbreak was.” 

Jungkook’s eyes darken in an unfamiliar emotion. Guilt? Regret? More anger?

“We did everything together until one day, you decided that I wasn’t good enough anymore. For fuck’s sake, we were twelve and you acted like I was embarrassing for doing stuff kids our age were allowed to do.”

“You think that I had a choice?” He finally speaks up and you get a feeling that it was your turn to listen. “I stopped being a kid in my father’s eyes the day I killed those wolves. I didn’t wanna push you away, but father made me.”

“What?”

“I became his heir that day, I sealed my fucking fate. I had to stop playing a-and doing kid’s stuff. He forced me to train day in and out. I had to be the perfect man. I was twelve, for fuck’s sake. I was a fucking kid who wanted to play adventurers in the forest with, with his….with his best friend.” 

The silence which follows after his confession is deafening. Fifteen years of hating him. Fifteen years of thinking that he hated you. And all this time, he only acted like this because his father made him. You meet his emotional eyes, feeling emotional yourself.

“I was your best friend?” you whisper.

He nods his head, biting down on his lower lip to stop it from trembling. 

“I miss you, ___”, he presses out. 

You feel lost for words. You are so shaken in fact that you can’t even find it in you to cry. Fifteen years. Fifteen years of hating him for what he did and wishing for an apology you thought would never come and here it is. His confession. His apology. 

“It’s been fifteen years and I still do. I miss you and I’m sorry.” He cups your face, wiping away the remnants of tears. “I’m so sorry.”

You stare. And stare. And stare. 

“Please say something”, he whispers.

“I don’t know what to say.” 

“Just anything, please.” 

“You’re the most selfish piece of shit I have ever seen.”

Jungkook’s face falls in shock. His eyes show how much your words hurt him.

“Why tell me your stupid apology now? Why confess to me now? Knowing that I will be sold into a life of sex slavery and torture?” You hit his chest. “Why tell me now when you literally deliver me to my fucking death? You piece of shit, you’re selfish and cruel and I want you dead.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. You and your entire family and the rest of the pack. Die. All of you just die.” 

You hit him with more vigour. More and more and more. 

“Enough”, he stops you, pinning your wrists into the ground and with it, rendering you helpless, “stop hitting me, please.”

You spit at his face. 

Jungkook flinches back. He sits up and wipes it away.

“What the fuck? You spat at me. Why would you do that?”

“Go to hell and shove your sappy confession up your sadistic ass”, you hiss. You feel no ounce of remorse for what you did. 

Jungkook wipes your spit into the blanket and moves quickly. He puts your wrists together and pins them above your head. Before you can spit again, he puts his other hand over your mouth, rending your legs useless as well by slinging one of his muscular legs over yours. 

There is no fabric between your bodies. You are skin against skin. Raw and naked and hot. You can feel his dick against you and you know that he can feel your tits against his arm. You are rendered useless, vulnerable to whatever he plans to do to you now that spat at him. You are scared, but you are also droopy. It is that same droopiness you felt when you looked at his naked body. Except stronger and more unbearable. You are hotter and there is slick gathering in your holes. You can barely breathe, but maybe this is because of his hand over your mouth. 

“Stop fighting me and listen”, Jungkook talks with his lips close to your face. You can’t stop staring at them. You fight him while your mind goes droopy at the sight of his lips moving. “You can either go to your new life or listen. Are you gonna listen?”

You nod your head.

“Good. I’m gonna pull my hand away now and you won’t spit at my face again. Promise?”

You nod hesitantly.

“Good. I trust your word.”

He pulls his hand away, keeping his arm around you. It lies exactly over your tits, rubbing against your nipples. You know for a fact that he is able to feel it. You curl your fingers, trying so hard not to get affected by his closeness. Or to make a sound for that matter.

“I said this stuff to you because I wanna make it right between us. Your brother fucked up, but what Urquard did in retaliation is crazy and what father allowed is insane. If you want me to, I won’t bring you to him.” 

“What? But…your father promised.”

“I don’t care. It’s barbaric that omega trading is still a thing. You are right, you are people not cattle.” 

“If he finds out that you refuse, he will disown you.”

“I have a plan for that.”

“Urquard will kill you.”

“That’s why I have a plan.”

“What plan?” 

“It’s gonna sound insane.”

“Just tell me please. I don’t wanna be sold.” 

“The only way I can free you of this pact is if you get marked by another alpha. You’re unclaimed right now, but if you were to be marked by an alpha other than Urquard’s son, then the pact would be invalid.”

“What do you mean with marked?”

He hesitates.

“Tell me.” 

“An alpha would have to put his dick into you.”

“So assault? I would have to be assaulted?”

“Not if you wanted it.”

“Huh?”

“Not if it’s with someone you trust. Someone who’s gonna be careful and gentle and who’s gonna make it nice for you.”

“And who should that be? Last time I checked, I’m not really friends with many…”

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s. He seems shy all of a sudden.

“Oh.” 

You gasp for air. 

“Oh.”

“I know it’s crazy. I thought of other ways. I’ve been plotting ever since we left town. That’s why I volunteered. To give us time, to give me time to think of something. I thought of lots of stuff, but they all ended in hypothetical death or enslavement of our pack. The only peaceful option was this.”

“You volunteered to bring me?” 

He nods his head, “anyone else would have been too scared of or too loyal to my dad. I know you’re scared, but I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 

“And you thought of this?” 

“It’s the only way. We kill Urquard and his sons? Their pack comes after us. We run away? Their pack is gonna punish our pack. We kill everyone? Impossible we’d die and destine our pack to agony. It’s only death and pain u-unless you get marked by an alpha.”

“But I would have to be with you afterwards.”

“Only if you want to. We can pretend, make everyone think that it’s real. You wouldn’t have to be with me ever again.” 

“Oh my god, this is insane.”

“I know. I’m sorry. The choice is yours. I promise.”

You study his face. You are still trapped under him, sharing heat. Skin against skin. arm against chest and cock against hip. He is semi hard by now, smearing slick on your skin. The fact that he is affected by this - by you - doesn’t make it easier to stay calm. You are glad for his leg over yours because it forces your legs to be closed and therefore hide the masses of slick having accumulated by now. His hair is still damp, hanging into his face messily. His fingers feel so strong and protective around your wrists. You swear that each time he breathes out and you inhale it, you feel high. You are so attracted to him right now. 

Truth be told, you always thought that he was handsome beyond comparison. He has a mesmerizing aura and a captivating smile. His physique is your dream physique and his face often caught your attention in a crowd. You were utterly and insanely attracted to him which made your hatred for him grow deeper. He betrayed you, but he is still haunting your thoughts. It was unbearable until right now. 

“I’m scared. I never did it with an alpha before”, you confess, suddenly feeling so vulnerable.

And Jungkook takes that vulnerability, cradling it in his safe palm just as he cradles your cheek the same way. His eyes softened, his voice did too.

“Don’t be scared. I’ll be gentle. I promise”, he almost whispers the words, tracing your brow and temple between cradling your cheek. 

“I don’t know you like that.”

“Neither do I you. It’s gonna be a one time thing.” 

“I’m scared. I’ve been scared ever since all of this started.”

“Don’t be. I’m here. I won’t let them touch you.”

“But you’ll touch me?” you ask in a whisper, lifting the inner corners of your brows.

Jungkook has a hard time staying calm when you look at him with such puppy eyes. 

“If you let me, I will.” 

You exhale shakily, squirming under him. 

“I’m scared.” 

He lets go of your wrists to cradle your other cheek. You lean into the touch, barely wanting to keep your eyes open. Your arms stay in their submissive position naturally. 

“Just the tip. That’s all it takes. Just the tip for a few seconds so you take on my scent and then it’ll be over”, he says.

“Just the tip?” 

“Yes, just the tip. Nothing more. I promise.”

You are going to do something which you thought never to do. But if it saves your life, you would do anything. Even something as crazy as allow Jungkook to stick his tip into you.

“Okay. Just the tip.” 

Jungkook exhales shakily, moving closer for a kiss like it was instinct before he stops himself. You shudder, craving nothing more than what he denies both of you. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this”, he breathes.

“What?” 

“Kiss.” He lets the word dance over your lips, running his thumb under your lips as his eyes stare. “We shouldn’t.” 

“No, we shouldn’t”, you whimper, chasing him. 

Moments of craving and yearning where both of you try so hard to kiss the other. But you shouldn’t. Just the tip, nothing more.

“Roll to your side, please”, Jungkook breaks the electric silence, guiding you with his hand on your shoulder until your back faces his chest. 

You can see the fire and the rest of the shed like this, but not Jungkook.

“Why like this?” 

“If I look at your face, I’ll stick it in completely. I can’t do this to you.” 

“Oh.”

Jungkook closes the distance, connecting his hand with your hip. He guides it up your body, travelling along your waist and arm. His touch leaves goosebumps where it goes. His palm is slightly calloused from fighting but incredibly tender in how it touches you. You feel yourself breathe heavier and heavier the longer he touches you.

He reaches your shoulder, closing the last of the distance by lowering his lips to your back.

“Ah”, you let out quietly, tensing up. Your eyes are widened comically big, staring into the bright flames. He is kissing your naked skin. What the fuck. 

Jungkook’s eyes are closed in contrast. His head is foggy, but he tries to fight these feelings. You smell so good that it is very difficult to do so. 

His hand is still on your shoulder at first but moves to your waist when he guides his kisses to said shoulder. 

“Oh god”, you whisper, sighing afterwards. 

Jungkook feels droopy from the sound, digging his fingers into the softness of your side. He shouldn’t be doing this. Just the tip. That’s what he said. And yet here he is, kissing your soft skin as if it was his right to do so. He shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop. He traces and holds your side and stomach, telling himself that he only does it to relax you. He kisses every inch of your exposed back and shoulder, telling himself that he only does it to calm you down. When in truth he does all of this because he wants to make it nice for you. And maybe he wants to be a source of tenderness after what you had to go through. 

Lies. These are still lies. He fucking does this because he wants to. He fucking does it because he wants to know how it is to touch you. Taehyung talked when you and he were high school sweethearts. Oh, Taehyung talked and Jungkook had to listen and secretly seethe with jealousy. It should be him, he thought back then, he would know how to treat you right.

You had no idea of these thoughts. You still haven’t as you lie here next to the warm fire while Jungkook touches you oh so carefully. You don’t know if you’re allowed to close your eyes. Just the tip, you agreed on. Can you close your eyes for that? 

But it feels so good. His lips are soft, while his piercings are hard in contrast. His touch is currently dancing up the middle of your torso slowly. You fight the shivers wanting to run through you. 

You lose the fight a moment later when he pulls you against his strong chest and kisses your neck. 

You whimper, trembling like crazy. You arch into him, craning your neck to give him more of it. Your heart skips beats under his lips. Jungkook grips the blanket to stop his hand from cradling your tits. 

“Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this”, he presses out under his breath, mouthing at your neck hungrily. “I shouldn’t….do…this.” 

He drags his lips to your jawline and sucks. Your eyes close.

You mewl, rolling your hips back into him. His cock slides between your legs, rubbing between your puffy folds. He trembles in shock, gripping your hip to stop your wiggles. 

“Don’t do this. Don’t act like this when it is supposed to mean nothing.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.”

“Mhhm I know. You can’t, but I can. I won’t do it again, I’m sorry.” 

You swallow your begs, not wanting to appear weak or desperate. It is so difficult not to beg when you have his cock between your legs. Hugged by your folds and exchanging slick. He feels hot and his veins are pulsing desperately. You have never before felt so stupidly horny than you do right now. Quite frankly, he might be forcing you to go into impromptu heat if he keeps being like this. 

“Just the tip, yeah? Just the tip”, he whispers as he puts his arm under your head so you have something comfortable to rest on. You practically melt into him, biting back tears. You are being held and it feels so good. So safe and warm. 

He kisses your neck and cheek, whispering his words.

“Are you comfortable? Are you ready?”

“Yeah”, you sigh, pushing your hips back. 

Jungkook slides his other hand between your bodies, using it to align his cock with your dripping entrance. Just the tip, he reminds himself, nothing more. Don’t be greedy, keep calm. This doesn’t mean anything. 

“Last chance”, he says, wanting to stall time so he can calm down. 

“I trust you.”

Jungkook bites back his moan, having to take a deep breath before he can act. You are messing him up without knowing. With a racing pulse, he applies pressure on your puffy cunt and slips inside. 

You squeak, shaking against your will. You convulse around him, gasping repeatedly. He went in so easily, despite his size. 

Jungkook growls, “fuck, holy fuck”, he gets out and bruises your hip as he grips it for support. It takes everything inside him not to push it all the way in. Jungkook genuinely has a hard time not to moan. You are so wet.

Judging from your tremors and the way you fight for air, it is just as difficult for you.

“Only a few more second”, he forces his voice to sound as normal as possible. He wants to fuck you, but knows that he shouldn’t.

“Mh-hm”, you squeak out, nodding your head. You want him to fuck you. 

Jungkook closes his hand to a fist, growing his claws to dig them into his own palm. The pain keeps him from acting up. He wouldn’t be able to handle it otherwise. 

Jungkook always hoped that he would marry you one day. There it is. It’s out there. Jungkook had feelings for you for decades. In his dreams, you marry him and he can spend the rest of his days spoiling you rotten. He would be your protector against any danger, your best friend to laugh with, your remedy for your heats and the lover you can be yourself with. 

Being with you like this is everything he ever wished for. You are so soft and warm around him, your slick is so wet. He knows that, deeper inside, it would be so much more. You'd be so warm, so soft. Jungkook gulps down his desire for more, otherwise he would do things he would regret.

“I think it should be good”, he presses out. He can’t do it anymore. One more second and he would push in all the way. He can’t do this to you. You trust him and he can’t abuse this trust. 

“Really?”

You turn your head, looking up at him in droopy devotion. Jungkook whimpers, instantly cradling your cheek. He furrows his brows, throbbing inside you. He fights the urge to kiss you, to rest his forehead against yours, to bury himself deep inside you.

“Please don’t look at me.”

“Jungkook.” 

His name hasn’t rolled off your tongue ever since he left you at the playground. It almost brings tears to his eyes, forcing his arm around you tighter.

“I can’t do this”, he drops his forehead against yours “I think I remembered that I need to put in all of it. It’s not gonna work otherwise.” 

He is lying, because he can’t accept the truth yet. That he is selfish and totally addicted to you. 

“Please do.” 

“No. No we shouldn’t be doing this”, he fights it still, shaking his head which makes his nose rub against yours. 

“Please”, your words tickle his lips, “save me. Whatever it takes, save me.”

“Urgh”, he growls through gritted teeth. 

“Please.” 

Jungkook lifts his head. He wants to look into your eyes as he does it. He wants to see the utter bliss in your eyes as he turns your relationship status from ex childhood best friends to two adults reunited.  

He rolls his hips, feeding your warmth his length inch by inch. Your brows furrow and lift, your lids flutter, your mouth falls open. 

“A-ah”, you squeak out.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m all here”, he whispers. He closes his arm around you, cradling you in a gentle headlock. 

You close your fingers around his lower arm, spilling tears from your eyes. 

“Does it hurt?” 

You shake your head. 

“But?” 

“So…filled out. So big.”

“I know. I’m big, but you’re taking me so well.”

You whimper. Jungkook feels so insanely protective over you right now. 

“Yes, you are. Taking me so well”, he insists, brushing the back of his hand down your cheek. 

Jungkook continues until he bottoms out. He shudders, choking down a whimper. You feel so good. He never ever felt like this before. It feels like coming home which is insane because he was never with you like this. 

“___”, your name comes out of him against his will. 

“Jungkook”, you answer him, clenching around him.  

“Stay still, please.” 

“Okay”, you whimper, looking at his lips. 

The pull is magnetic. Jungkook draws closer with parted lips, you meet him with parted lips. Once you kiss, it will be over for you and him. There will be no coming back from this. 

“No”, he croaks, putting his hand over your mouth. The headlock tightens like this, giving you such a sense of being protected that your walls clench against your will. 

“We shouldn’t kiss. Never”, he rasps weakly, mouthing at his own hand right where your lips lie beneath. You close your eyes, trying to move your lips under his hand. It is starting to feel cruel to be denied his kiss. Especially when memories of your past come back to you. 

You remember that it was a group of eight kids and you were doing “dares” to see who is the coolest. Taehyung was dared to prank call his mom and he actually did. He pretended to be a grown up insurance clerk and once he hung up, you really thought that he managed to prank his mom (he didn’t hide his phone number and had a childlike voice). Jimin, another friend, was dared to climb a tree. Which he did and he was sooo cool for it. They were silly, childish dares who did no harm but made you feel so cool. Then it came to you and you were dared to kiss Jungkook. Which you did. In a childlike, innocent way but which made you and him feel so grown up for a moment.

The memory is haunting you right now, making you want to redo it in a grown up, mature way. You open your eyes, meeting Jungkook’s gaze. Judging from the foggy desperation in them, he is haunted by the same memory. 

“Please get out of my head”, he gets out.

You whimper his name behind his hand. Jungkook furrows his brows, grinding his teeth.

“No please. Stop it”, he croaks, squeezing his eyes shut.

You want to fight it as well, of course you do. You swore to hate him forever and now you want nothing else than his kiss. You want to fight it, but your hands move against your will. They rest themselves over Jungkook’s hand and try to dig between your face and his palm.

He growls, huffing out air. The only thing keeping your hips from joining the impossible fight is his hand on it. Shit, now he is concentrating on down below. Your puffy walls around him, so soft and warm. Being inside you, Jungkook swears he will never be cold again. Or maybe he will be, maybe he will never find warmth again once this stops, once he has to slip out and pretend that it meant nothing.

What will happen afterwards? He is so needy and he knows that you are too. What will happen? Are you going to lie next to each other, wet and needy and force your bodies to calm down? Or maybe he will need to excuse himself to outside, fuck his own fist as the loud thunder masks his desperate moans while inside the shed you most definitely would touch yourself as well?

Jungkook was so lost in his haunted thoughts that he realises too late that you managed to tug his hand away. Your lips brush his’. 

Jungkook moans from the bottom of his heart, going in for more at first. He even rolls his hips into you. Like instinct. Like it is meant to happen. 

“No”, he pushes you away, slips out, breaks the moment. “We shouldn’t be doing this. Not that far.”

You sob, shrinking into yourself. 

“Please”, you whimper your words, staring at him with desperate, sad eyes. You lift your hips, begging him silently.

“I won’t be able to stop if I do it again. I can’t do this to you.” 

“Please”, you beg.

“Do you even know what an alpha does when he fucks? I won’t be able to stop until I bred you. I-I’ll knot you and, and you won’t be able to get me out until I’m soft again.” 

“I know.” 

“This could take hours. You will feel out of control and vulnerable.” 

“You said that you will protect me. That I-I’m safe with you.” 

“___”, he chokes out and crawls to you. He picks you up in his strong arms, holding you against his chest. His heart is racing like crazy against your back. “Stop me. I beg you. I can’t pretend any longer that this means nothing to me. You have to stop this.”

You reach up and twist his hair, pulling him down to you. 

“We shouldn’t-” 

You silence him with a kiss. 

Jungkook trembles, resting his weight against you as the kiss renders his body useless for a moment. You are kissing him. You stopped this stupid farce for you and him. You sealed your fates. Jungkook knows that it won’t be the same after tonight. He will never fucking give you up. 

He breaks the kiss, but stay close.

“You shouldn’t have done this.”

“Please. More.”

“Are you even hearing me?” he hisses.

“Yes. Please, more.” 

“Fuck, we really shouldn’t, but maybe I…I have to move it a few times? To really mark you?” 

“Yes, sounds good, mark me please. I don’t wanna be sold.” 

“I-I’ll do it just for that. To make sure.” 

“Yes. Okay”, you sigh and melt into him, lifting your leg. 

Jungkook slides his hand under it instantly.

“Let me do it. Relax.” 

You let your muscles relax, allowing him to carry your leg’s weight. He does it so easily, tracing your hairline with his fingertips as he looks down at you. He moves his hips so his cock would slip between your folds, working you up to what was coming by grinding back and forth. He really drags out the movements, sending trembles through your legs each time his thick tip rubs your swollen clit. 

He exhales shakily, whispering his thoughts.

“You’re so wet. I have never felt slick so warm and, and wet before.” 

You look up at him with shy, nervous puppy eyes, making him want to protect you forever. 

“Is it bad?” 

“No, fuck no”, he puts his arm around your chest, pulling you up to him until he can rest his forehead against yours. “It’s perfect, baby.” 

“Baby?” 

“I…” he drops you, hips stilling in shock. He doesn’t know what to say. Anything he could say feels like too little of an apology. 

You however increase the lethalness of your puppy eyes, reaching down to try and move his hips again. 

“Please. More.” 

“We’re only doing this to save you, right?” He asks, picking up a rhythm again. It is the same as before but way more arousing because he purposefully makes sure that his tip slips into you every now and then. He starts off with just a little poke, increasing the inches more and more. But it stays just the tip, for now, don’t be mistaken. If he slips inside it should happen accidentally. He likes to tell himself if it happens like this, it will mean that it wasn’t his fault. 

“Yes, only to save me” you lull your words, getting droopier and droopier. Each time he has his tip inside you, it feels so good. Before he slips out and you feel sad, until of course he drags his cock over your clit instead.  

You can’t do this for long anymore and Jungkook seems to share your feelings. The tip he buries in you starts to go way past your entrance and it seems to stay longer inside. His golden eyes never break contact, his fingers rub your arm as he holds you so close. 

He slips into you again. So deep. 

“Mhhhhm” he lets out in a rumble, furrowing his brows. 

You whimper, lifting your brows. 

Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. He won’t be able to escape like this. 

Deeper.

He bottoms out. 

You moan, eyelids fluttering and lips chasing his kiss. 

He shakes his head, talking as he falls into the kiss.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

You kiss and Jungkook’s cock doesn’t leave you again. It stays buried deep inside you, reshaping your walls as his hips move. Slowly for now, daring not to be too rough with you. Because being rough makes it real. Maybe if he keeps his movements tiny enough, it will still count as being nothing of importance. 

Because that’s what this is, right? Something that doesn’t mean anything, something that won’t change who you and he are. This is what those needy, hungry tongue kisses mean, this is what the desperate touches mean, this is what the exchanging of warm slick means. Nothing. Because if those things meant something, it would force Jungkook to admit that he is doing This for himself. Of course he does it to save you, but if it meant something, he would have to admit that he is also doing this for himself. 

But it doesn’t mean anything, right? Right?

You break the kiss for air, looking up at him submissively and droopy.

“It feels so good”, you whisper.

“Close your eyes, please.” 

You obey and Jungkook has to come to the realisation that it makes no difference. This fucking means something. Holy fuck, he is done for. 

“Maybe I have to make you cum?”

“What?” you ask, eyes still closed. 

“I think I need to make you cum once. Then you’ll be marked.”

“Please do. I trust you.” 

Trust. He thought that he would never earn it again and yet here he is. With your weakened, trembling body in his hold as you trust him to take good care of you. 

“Mhhm shit”, he presses out, biting down on his own tongue to calm himself. Be tender with her, he thinks, you swore to be a gentle alpha so fucking get it together.

He moves you into another position, draping your leg over his hip so you wouldn’t have to use your muscles. You are so open and spread like this, allowing his big cock entrance. He slides his hand to your clit and takes it between his thumb and middle finger to massage it. 

“A-ha”, you let out, arching your back and lifting your hips.

“Ssssh, relax. I’m here.”

“Please, deeper.” 

Jungkook buries his cock deep inside you and stays there, circling his hips. He is so big and long that he stimulates both your g-spot and your cervix. He is so gentle that it doesn’t hurt. It just feels so good that your fangs grow against your will and you leak masses of new slick.

“Like this? Am I making it nice for you?”

“So nice”, you mewl, nodding your head vigorously. 

Jungkook is gazing at you as it happens. He watches every change of expression on your face, fighting the urge to call you beautiful. Because that’s what you are. Beautiful. You would deserve to know but he is scared of the consequences. It would mean the fluttering of his heart is real.

“Is so nice”, you sigh, writhing happily. It breaks him.

“You’re beautiful”, he says, moaning softly when you tighten and arch your back. So you liked it. His cock throbs inside you, leaking into you needily. “Yeah that’s right, you’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful. Taking me so well, feeling so good on my cock.”

“Ah, aaaah”, your moans are so loud, your pussy so fucking wet and your clit so swollen. 

Jungkook fucks you gently, massaging your spot of pleasure with his long, skilled fingers. He can feel your heartbeat in your back, as much as he can feel you rub against his nipples. 

The blanket over your bodies is so hot, making you and him sweat wherever you are touching. He can’t deny it anymore that this is real, that this means something. This means fucking everything to him.

“You’re such a good omega, taking me so well.”

“You’re making me cum”, you croak, grasping his arm for support, “please, can I cum?” 

“Yes, baby. You can. Cum for me.” 

“Jungkook”, you gasp, ripping your eyes open to stare in shock as his gentle touches bring you over the edge.

Your eyes flicker golden, you moan silently with an open mouth. 

“That’s it, cum for your alpha. Let me mark you, that’s it.” 

He has a hard time saying these words to you. His thoughts are running wild. This is the face you make when you have an orgasm. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined this to be a face he gets to see. And it’s so beautiful that he treads the moment your high stops and he has to pull out. He doesn’t want to pull out. He needs more of you. He needs you like fucking crazy.

“More please”, and then your beg releases him. You are down from your high, yet still so hungry for more. You feel so fulfilled with him that you don’t want this to stop. 

“What?” he croaks.

“More please, more.”

“If I do this, I won’t stop until I cum too.” 

“I know.” 

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have to cum inside you to mark you?” 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

The pretend continues. The fucking charades that this is only to save you from your fate, that you and he aren’t doing this because it feels so good to both of you. 

“Please Jungkook, fuck me properly.”

“Are you sure?” he almost squeaks the words because he has such a hard time controlling his urges. 

“Yes. Please.”

“Holy fuck. ___ urgh.”

Your needy beg does the rest. His animalistic instincts take over.

Jungkook growls, grabbing you roughly to flip you onto your stomach and therefore pin you down. He straddles you from behind. His right hand slips to the back of your head, his left hand has a possessive grip on your hip. His legs cage in your legs, keeping them squeezed together as he drills his thick cock into your pussy. You are so tight like this, jerking him off in such a maddening way. 

You scream up as you didn’t expect him to take on such a punishing pace instantly, but you aren’t complaining. It feels so good to take him. He fucks you so well. His cock is so filling, making you feel whole. 

“I’m not holding back now. For you, just for you. Is this good for you? Do you like this?”, he growls through gritted fangs, shifting his eyes between your face and his cock.

“Yeaa”, you sob, clawing at the ground helplessly. You were aware that Jungkook has been an adult for years, but this is still changing how you see him. Whenever you thought of him, you saw that twelve year old boy calling you immature for playing. That boy is gone as if he never existed. Jungkook is a fucking adult and he is rewriting the image in your mind one heavy stroke at a time.

“You should have never seen me like this. Fuck, this shouldn’t happen”, Jungkook spits, high on your body. He is embarrassed by his actions, but can’t stop them. “But I can’t stop. Holy fuck, I need you so fucking bad.” He needs to fuck you. You are so small and weak right now, so goddamn vulnerable. Once so unclaimed until he took you.

You are his. 

Jungkook growls, pinning you harder into the ground. 

You are his. 

You reach behind yourself because his hand on your head hurts. He grabs your wrist instantly, using it to pin your arm against your back. You wail up, kicking the ground as best as possible as you writhe in your imprisonment. 

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t see me like this. Not you. I’m sorry.” 

He apologises, knowing that he won’t be able to stop until you are claimed. The thought makes him crazy. He is claiming you. The girl who was his first kiss, his best friend who always came to him when she needed help, the woman who counts on him to protect her from her fate and the wife he always hoped to have one day. And he is claiming her. He is marking her, making you his for anyone to smell.

Jungkook drills you harder. He pulls out all the way to his tip just to thrust into you sloppily. He does it over and over again, reminding your dripping pussy of his size with each possessive thrust. 

And you take it with grateful sobs, existing only for him right now. You would never recover if he stopped right now. You need him to finish what he started even if it ruins you in the process. 

“We really shouldn’t be doing this, fuck, this shouldn’t happen”, Jungkook gets out, gawking at where he buries himself in you. 

Your slick is slowly taking on a milky colour from the intense friction. It sticks to his veiny shaft and his dark pubes, smearing all over your ass and his thighs as well.

If this shouldn’t happen, why does it feel so good? If this shouldn’t happen, why does it look so hot? If this shouldn’t happen, why does he not want to stop? 

Jungkook scrunches his face in anger. He lets go of your arm so he can grip your hips with both hands. He pulls them up until you are kneeling. Your face is still buried in the ground, your back is arched.

You shake and convulse instantly, sobbing in embarrassment because the open position of your legs forces your slick to run out of you. 

“Holy fuck”, he gets out, staring at it with blown out pupils, “holy fuck, ___.” 

“I’m sorry, please don’t judge me”, you beg, trying so hard to keep it inside with clenches around his cock.

“Never. Holy fuck, I could never.”

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. Relax, baby. Don’t fight it”, he says, knowing that you and he shouldn’t be doing this. 

You obey instinctively. You relax around him, releasing the slick you so desperately wanted to hide from him. It begins squirting out of you messily and audibly, marking him yours.

“Yes”, he growls and begins pulling your hips onto his cock possessively, thrusting into you at the same time. He does it with one hand because the other he slips between your legs to pinch your clit. Gently of course, keeping her between two fingers to massage her in circular motions.

“Let me help you.” 

You wail and shake, releasing more and more of your pretty slick. It runs down your thighs, covers his legs, smears all over your ass and his stomach.  

“Relax, that’s it. My pretty omega shouldn’t keep it inside. It’s not good for you.” 

“Jungkook, I can’t do this”, you sob.

“I know. We can’t do this, we never should have.”

“No”, you wail, “no. I have to cum again.”

“Whenever you want to. Your alpha’s right here, baby.” 

“Jungkook!” you scream, breaking apart as if you never orgasmed before. It feels so good.

“Holy fuck baby, ah!” Jungkook yelps, hips stuttering in shock, “you feel so good, what the fuck ah! Ah! I can’t control myself. Baby!” 

Jungkook growls and lays himself over you. He holds you up with one hand around you, biting down on your shoulder as his body breaks. You sob from the pain of the bite, loving every second of it. 

And then it hits you. 

His seed.

His thick, hot seed.

It shoots out of him with such strength that you feel punched in the gut. The effect is instant. You lose control over yourself. Quite literally, you lose control. You can still talk, using it to scream his name as you orgasm in a way you have never experienced before. 

The first one was intense but familiar. This right now? You didn’t even know that your body could feel this way. It is truly, seriously, religious. It is as if you finally found your purpose in life. And in a sense you did. You found your alpha. He finally claimed you properly. You are his’. You aren’t unclaimed anymore. Nobody ever educated on this, so you have no idea that these religious, soul fulfilling feelings mean that you changed forever, but you don’t mind right now. You are just riding on these feelings, screaming his name and milking him dry. 

Jungkook whimpers. He truly, honestly whimpers from the bottom of his heart, collapsing on top of you. He knocks you into the ground like that, burying you under his weight but he couldn’t stop it from happening. 

He never experienced this feeling either. He had sex with people, but it never felt like This before. He orgasmed in them but it never felt like this. It feels as if his seed finally has purpose. That’s how it feels. Like his efforts and all the rutting he is doing has fucking purpose. 

And then it happens. Something that he was only told could happen to him, finally happens to him. His knot swells. He actually fucking grows a knot and has to writhe on top of you, burying his nose deep in your hair as he sobs your name. 

You sob as well, insides suddenly feeling like bursting. His knot is so big and thick that it should feel like an intruder but it doesn’t. It feels like the best drug ever. You didn’t even know that you could stretch this far. The amount of stimulation it gives you as it rubs against your walls is otherworldly, making you chase one orgasm after the other.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. Ah! ___!” Jungkook yelps, having to orgasm again as your tight walls stimulate his knot. The amount of sensitivity he feels on it is insane. 

His hands slide together with yours, holding them tightly as he pins them into the ground. His tears fall into your hair, your own tears soak the blanket. 

“I can’t stop”, you get out, shaking in fear, “I can’t stop cumming!”

“Me neither.”

“I’m scared. I’m so scared”, you sob, riding on the unfamiliar, scary sensations.

“Don’t be scared, I’m here. I’m here”, he talks you through it, shaking beyond saving.

You aren’t even moving much. There are no thrusts, no sloppy wiggles. Just and you and him, actually stuck together because of his knot while he pumps one cumshot after the other into you. There is no movement and yet it feels better than the most passionate rutting session you each had. No movement and yet you are fulfilled beyond comparison. Is this how it feels to find your mate? Is this what it is? 

Did “we shouldn’t be doing this” turn into the finding of your other half? Was “we shouldn’t be doing this” fate’s way of protecting you from what will happen once you gave in? Or was there ever a “we shouldn’t be doing this” strong enough that could have prevented you from doing this?

Whatever it might be, it is too late to think about the what ifs now. The reality is that you and he can’t stop climaxing, lost in the most addicting and intense pleasure you and he ever found yourselves in. It is never ending. When he climaxes, you have to too which sets him off again, triggering your need to as well. It is a vicious, never ending, orgasmic cycle.

“This feels so good”, he croaks out, writhing on top of you, “does it feel-” 

“Yes! Yes! Oh god please Kook not again. Kook!”

“Kook”, Jungkook repeats the nickname in a whimper, curling his toes as another orgasm hits him as well. He never thought to hear this name from you again. He can’t handle it any other way than filling you with more of him. 

There is so much of him inside you by now, having no way to escape because of his knot that your body reacts in the only way it knows how to survive. It opens up for his seed to go deeper. It trickles into the deepest parts of your sex organs, warming you from the inside out. It is like he is alive inside you, feeding you with the strongest drug you ever took. You think that you black out for a moment. You are still aware of what is happening to you, but it is hidden behind a thick layer of blurriness. 

“Eh”, you let out, falling into the darkness gladly. It feels so good to do. There is something because you are aware of your orgasm, but there is also nothing. It is as if you are standing next to your body, watching it shake and tremble as he makes a home inside you.

And then there is nothing. Truly nothing. No more orgasmic pleasure, no more watching yourself. Just darkness.

“___? Hey, ___? Holy fuck, what’s wrong with you? ___, open your eyes please”, Jungkook’s distraught voice comes closer and closer, his hand on your face becomes clearer and clearer, “please ___, open your eyes, please. Oh god, what have I done? I should never have done this. I- Oh god ___ please, I’m sorry. Wake up, please.”

He shakes your head gently. It brings you back to reality. Your body regains the ability to feel. 

“Jungkook”, you whimper, opening your eyes. You writhe instantly, throbbing around his knot happily.

“___ hey. Holy fuck, thank god. Hey”, he says, dropping his forehead against your temple and kissing the side of your face desperately, “I’m so glad that you’re back. I thought that I killed you.”

“No, just made me black out.” 

“Why? Does it hurt? Are you in lots of pain?” 

“No, just haven’t felt so good before. Ever. Kook, I”, you suddenly have to whimper your words, “I feel your cum inside my uterus. It’s so warm and alive and….right.”

“It is?” He whimpers as well, feeling weakened in emotion.

You nod your head. Jungkook sobs quietly, using the hold he has on your hand to guide your arm under your body and against your chest. Like this, he rolls your bodies to their sides, instantly cradling you against his chest while his trembling lips kiss any part of you that he can reach.

Your face, your neck, your shoulder, your arm, your back and the bite mark he left, your face again. Over and over he kisses each inch of you, whispering your name every now and then as if he is trying to make sure that he remembers who made him feel like this. As if he is trying to make his brain memorise who it was who made him experience his first knot.

He is still swollen, keeping everything inside you safely. It is still so intense, but suddenly it feels more emotionally intense than physically. Enough time must have passed for the fire to reduce the logs by lot. And all of a sudden you and he don’t feel the uncontrollable need to orgasm anymore. You still want to be close, moving your hips in emotionally needy wiggles in hopes of keeping his knot alive for as long as possible, but it is not to chase another orgasm. You want this to last because it feels so safe. 

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t want this to end”, Jungkook confesses, holding you protectively.

“Me neither. I feel so safe like this.”

“Holy fuck, ___. What did we do?” he presses out, kissing your cheek over and over again.

“I don’t know.”

“I never knotted before. I never felt like this. Holy fuck, ___.” 

“What is gonna happen to us now?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t let you go again. Ever. I don’t wanna fucking share you. Never. I’m trying so hard not to tell you that you’re mine ‘cause I promised you that this would never happen again.”

“Please don’t.”

“What?”

You turn your head, leaning deeper into his embrace. Like this, you feel his racing heart against your shoulder and you are entirely protected in his arms. His knotted cock throbs inside you as your eyes meet. The same playful, gentle boy of the past looks back at you, except that his once boyish features are mature and aged up. A gentle, adoring man stares back at you and you can’t seem to find your way out of his galaxy eyes. 

“Please don’t promise me that this won’t happen again.” You cradle his cheek. “Don’t hold back on telling me that I’m yours.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re high from my cum, these aren’t your real feelings.”

“Why shouldn’t they be?” 

“___, we-”

You put your thumb on his lips. 

“We shouldn’t have done this, I know. You kept telling me as we kept doing this.” 

Jungkook gives up in a sigh, having to chuckle afterwards. You giggle, cupping his cheek again.

“Just the tip. That’s what we agreed on. Just the tip”, he says.

You clench around his knot, touching your bloated stomach. You instantly guide his hand to it, wanting him to feel what he did to you. He purrs deeply, biting down on his lower lip. You grin goofily.

“Just the tip indeed.”

He laughs softly. You snicker and stub his nose with your own. 

“This is the messiest and deepest tip I have ever given”, he jokes, making you laugh. 

“Oh god, this was funny.”

“Mhm, I’m pretty funny”, he says and nuzzles his nose into your neck to tickle you gently.

You squeak and giggle, feeling happy beyond comparison. Jungkook ends his loving attack with kisses to your ear. 

You sigh, melting into the affection. You and he lace fingers, using the position to melt closer. 

Your droopy eyes stare into the flames while Jungkook relaxes you with soft kisses all over your neck, shoulder and back. 

The thunderstorm stopped outside. It is already a little brighter. Fuck, so you were really trapped in this orgasmic state for a few hours. It felt as if so little time passed as it was happening. 

“What is gonna happen now?” you whisper.

“Now? We’re gonna cuddle and I’ll be kissing you until you’re asleep.”

“I mean after that. Do we have to show Urquard that I’m claimed?”

“I guess. I haven’t thought that far into the future yet. But yes, he will probably want proof that you’re marked.”

“I’m scared. Do I have to get naked in front of him? And his pack? Will he put something in me to get a scent?”

“He can try if he wants to die.” Jungkook pulls you closer possessively. “You’re under my protection now. Okay? You won’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with and I’ll hunt down anyone who dares to overstep your boundaries. Even Urquard and his pack.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really. I promise you.”

You close your eyes, spilling tears.

“Thank you.” 

You never thought it possible to have your dreams fulfilled by Jungkook and yet here you are. You are being held and comforted by Jungkook and it feels like home. 

“Don’t thank me. You’re mine. My darling ___ to keep safe. You have my body to protect you and my heart to find a home in.” 

There is deep rooted honesty in his words, but you are suddenly too sleepy to ask him what he meant by them. There will still be another time. This wasn’t just a one time thing after all.

[rainy-day-gracie]

jealous

jackson!joel miller x reader

cw: explicit smut (minors dni), jealous!joel miller, pwp, pre-established relationship (fwb), alcohol consumption, swearing, dirty talk, angry sex, exhibitionism sorta (they're in public but no one sees), light choking, use of a gag (panties oops), fingering, teasing, begging, a HINT of assplay, joel is ferallll but so is reader hahaha

wc: 1.5k

a/n: hello all in order to distract us from the trauma of season 2 here is a jealous joel miller fic. things get nasty but that's how we like it.

masterlist

-

Joel’s knuckles were white as he kept a grip on his whiskey, sipping it slowly, deliberately, imagining his white knuckles knocking out the guy’s teeth. 

The guy with his hands around your waist, on your ass. 

He knew you were doing it on purpose. 

Dancing, flirting, glowing in the lights of the dance hall.

Joel savored the burn of the whiskey, trying to distract himself from your smile, your laughs, your touch, none for him. He supposed he deserved the punishment, but the way you were dancing… pure cruelty, if he were being honest. 

It was past midnight, Jackson’s young kids sound asleep, and the music and dancing took on a new spirit. Instead of the family-friendly twirling and turning, intimacy cast a shadow over the dance floor, lights dimmed and everything slightly hazy with the lighting of cigars.

Cigars thanks to you, getting lucky on a patrol in an abandoned rich neighborhood. Joel wondered how much people were willing to trade with you, giving away whatever they could just for the burn of tobacco on their tongue. 

Joel wanted the burn of something else, something other than whiskey, or a cigar. 

–

You’d been watching him the whole night, glooming in the corner of the hall, a dark shadow coiling with rage. 

You’d known what your dancing would do to him, pressed close to men younger than him, smaller than him. 

His last words, spoken in the soft light of sunrise pouring through his bedroom curtains, echoed in your head as you fixed your eyes on him.

We both know I'm no good for you, too old, too mean. Better for both of us that this never happens again. 

You hoped he burned at the sight of your hands on another man, another man you both knew you didn’t want. 

A grin spread across your face as Joel sipped his whiskey, a slight shake in his hand. A loaded gun, cocked, and ready to fire. 

He tilted his head, his dark eyes on you lighting your body with desire. 

As the clock struck one in the morning, you unraveled yourself from the man you’d been dancing with, giving him a polite smile, and wished him goodnight. Although he was a good dancer, there was only one man you wanted coming home with you. 

If you played your cards right, he would be. 

Keeping your eyes forward, passing Joel entirely, you left the hall with a smile. 

The night was cold, late fall casting a chill over Jackson. Frost covered the ground, and your breaths were white with warmth. Only a handful of people wandered the streets, sleepy quiet overtaking the town. 

Boots that weren’t yours crunched the grass behind you, and you knew who followed without having to turn around.

You grinned to yourself, keeping your eyes fixed ahead. Keeping him chasing. 

Climbing the steps of your house, the boots behind you went quiet, as if he were hesitating. 

You put a hand on the front door, but didn’t turn the knob. 

There was silence for a moment as you waited, until the boots moved again. Loud thumps against the wood of your porch, slow, deliberate. A shadow rose behind you, not touching, but his voice sending goosebumps down your arm as he spoke for the first time. 

“You gonna open that door, or I’m gonna fuck you right here on the porch?”

Desire shuddered through your body, and you gripped the door handle to keep from jumping on him. “I thought you said this was never happening again.”

Joel growled. “That was before you grinded up on guys you don’t belong to. Now, open that door, or the neighbors will be gettin’ one hell of a show.”

Letting go of the handle, you turned to face him, anger panging through you. “‘You don’t belong to?’” 

Joel clenched his jaw, stepping forward until your back pressed against the wood door. His dark eyes peered into yours, and as he spoke, his whiskey scented breath mingled with yours. 

“Don’t lie and say you were doin’ all that dancing just for fun,” Joel growled. “Don’t pretend that you wanted any of those boys.”

You huffed a laugh. “Yeah? And what do I want, Joel? You tell me.”

Joel straightened, stiffened. “I don’t know.”

“Now who’s the fucking liar?” You hissed, pushing him back with both hands on his chest.

Joel grunted at the impact, his eyes darkening. In an instant, his hand wrapped around your throat, not hard, just enough to keep you pinned against the door. Arousal flooded your core, and you gave him a wicked grin. 

“What do I want, Joel? Do I want a nice little man and a picket fence? Do I want to be left the fuck alone?" You smirked, breathing to let him smell the booze on your tongue. "Or do I want to be fucked so hard I don’t remember my own name?”

“Careful, girl,” he hummed, your pulse thundering under his fingertips.

“You’re the one that followed me like a dog on a leash,” You breathed, pushing his hand off of your throat with a shove. “Too old, too mean, remember?”

Joel was silent, though his nose brushed against yours like he was barely keeping from sinking his teeth in. 

When you spoke, your voice was low, and raw. “Didn’t you ever think that maybe I like my men old and mean?”

Joel grabbed the neck of your shirt, pulling you away from the door in a single tug. Pushing you forward, he bent you over the rail of your porch, your hips biting into the wood as you caught yourself. 

Behind you, Joel grinded his hips into your ass, denim on denim, his cock hard pressing through his jeans. He leaned over your bent torso, whispering in your ear. 

“You stay bent over like this until I’m done with you, and maybe I’ll give you what you want so badly.”

You huffed a laugh. “Oh, what’s that, old man?”

“To come on my cock so many times that you lose count,” he growled, reaching around to unzip your jeans.

You tensed, eyes scanning the street where party stragglers stumbled to bed. “Joel, there’s people out here–”

“Better stay quiet then, huh?” He said, pulling down your waistband roughly, making you moan at the force. “Oh, baby, your sweet little cunt is droolin’.”

He pulled at the elastic of your soaked panties, making you yelp out into the dark street as the cloth snapped against your core. 

“You know better than that, baby.”

In an instant, Joel tugged your panties up, up, up, pulling the cloth roughly into your cunt before the fabric ripped against your skin. You whimpered, unable to stifle your desire as he quite literally tore the panties from your pussy. 

Cunt exposed, Joel drove a finger into your slick like he couldn’t help himself, and as you moaned in response, he stuffed your soaked panties into your open mouth. 

“Much better, baby, much better,” Joel groaned quietly, like he didn’t even care if you heard him or not. You keened at the praise, his calloused finger tracing patterns up and down your soaked core. “I know all of this is for me, even though you’ll pretend it’s not. Your little stunt at the dance did the trick you wanted it to, right?”

The digit slipped inside of you, in and out before you even had a chance to react. You squirmed under his touch, and he pressed his free hand against your spine to hold you against the wood. 

“I never was a jealous man,” he rambled, playing with you. “Not until I met you. Not until I saw the way every man in this damn town drooled over you. Not until you let me into your bed, and I was stupid enough to leave it.” 

You arched against the wood, desperate, your moans stifled by the panties between your teeth. 

“Poor thing, been missin’ me, huh?” 

Your eyes fluttered as he pushed two fingers into your weeping cunt, curving them to press against your g-spot with the same precision he uses to pull the trigger of a rifle. 

“I’ll let you come on my fingers if you admit that you’ve missed me, baby,” Joel growled, playing with your core like his favorite toy. Your whine of pleasure was muffled by the gag in your mouth, but he chuckled at the sound. “Having trouble?”

He thrusted his fingers in and out, in and out, winding you up tighter and tighter. A tidal wave rose in your belly, and he knew it. 

“C’mon, speak up,” he teased, curling his fingers expertly. 

You mouthed around the panties, desperate for him to give you what you want. Humming with delight, he dug his free hand into your mouth, pulling out the panties as you gasped for breath. 

“I missed you so much, Joel,” you cried, forgetting where and who you were as he pushed a third finger into your core. 

“Then why were you dancin’ with another man, grindin’ on him like a little slut?”

“I-I wanted to make you jealous, I wanted you to want me–”

“Oh, baby, you ain’t gotta do nothin’ for me to want you,” he drawled, and mercifully pressed a fingertip against your neglected clit, and you moaned into the night. “Now, come for me, baby. Prove just how much you missed me.”

You obeyed with a cry, your cunt pulsed in response, his fingers relentless on your skin. Your core clenched around him, nails biting into the wooden railing as you came on his hand. Your knees buckled slightly, and he drove a hand into your hair, pulling your head up.

“No, no, no, baby, we’re not done yet.”

Joel pulled his fingers from you slowly, chuckling at the whimpers that left your lips. Lightly, he traced his soaked fingertips up the curve of your ass, circling that tight ring of muscle above your wet cunt. 

“Get inside. Or I’ll take this ass right here."

-

read part two, mine, here!

[whimsyfinny]

Sexy F*cking Nerd

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When Dean discovers a little secret of (Y/n)'s during a case research session he can't help but let temptation get the best of him.

Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, Oral (M receiving), slight angst if you squint, Dean having a glasses kink (not really a warning but not everyone wears them hahaha lucky bastards)

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 5688

A/N: It's taken a little while but here is the second competition winner from a few weeks back, the prompt provided by the wonderful @foxyjwls007 - I hope you like it!

The motel room was stuffy to say the least - that usual aroma of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener lingering around us. There was a dripping sound coming from God knows where and the AC hummed in between the concerning clinking from deep within the vents. It was crap. So crap. But it was home for a few nights; just like all the motel rooms that came before. Dean stepped past me and over the threshold, immediately slinging his duffle and jacket onto his chosen bed. He stretched his arms above his head, the grey Henley clutching his muscular abdomen and rising enough to flaunt what lay beneath. I sighed, following him in and slumping onto the bed beside his - the musty stench from the sheets enveloping me.

“Well…” Dean started, pulling Sam's laptop out of his bag and placing it on the small table by the window.

“Well…?” My voice echoed as I focused on the ceiling fan that spun off centre.

“...This is… nice?” His statement was more of a question as he looked around with raised eyebrows. I propped myself up on my elbows, flashing him a look of speculation.

“Seriously?” A moment passed before he huffed a long-held breath and slapped his large palms on his thighs.

“No of course not, this place sucks more dick than a hooker on payday.”

“You got that right,” I flopped back down onto the bed, a small dust cloud erupting under my weight. I closed my eyes and listened as Dean pulled a chair out from under the table, slumping down into it. Then there was the familiar click of the laptop opening followed by the sound of stuttered not-quite-touch-typing, presumably he was starting work on the case that we’d come here to investigate. The tap tap tap of whatever was leaking began to drill into my brain, my patience already wearing thin with the rooms dire ambiance. I pulled myself up to sitting, criss-crossing my legs on the bed and brushing whatever that dust from the bedding was off my sweater sleeves.

“When's Sam back?” I asked, watching as Dean searched the keyboard in front of him for some long lost letter.

“Uuuh, I'm not sure. He said to work this case without him.”

“Ugghhh, I bet he's having way more fun than us right now, it's not fair,” I plopped my chin into my palm and stared past the older Winchester out the window, almost willing Sam to appear and walk in like any other day.

“It's just some dumb wedding, I doubt he's having that much fun.”

I scoffed before I could stop myself, Dean breaking eye contact with the screen to throw me a raised eyebrow.

“Look,” I collected myself, “you didn't know Sam in college. He won't admit it but he was popular. Really popular. Not the total nerd you think he is. He's absolutely having fun with these people.”

“Yeah right. So who's at this wedding anyway? Why was it so important that he just had to be there?”

I rolled my eyes, knowing full well Sam had already told him all the details. Typical Dean.

“It's for a couple of friends who he and Jess were close with back then. Pretty sure the bride was prom queen in highschool or something and the groom was a trust fund jock. Either way, not my crowd,” I sighed slightly, memories from my college days flooding my mind.

Deans eyebrows twitched into a small frown, his thoughts seeming to cloud his vision for a second before he reluctantly dismissed them. I looked down into my lap for a moment, reminiscing how I always kept my distance from Sam whilst at Stanford, but he had always been that boy that would make my heart flutter when he spoke up in class or when I'd see him on the quad with his friends. I remember seeing him with his nose in a book once at my usual desk in the library, my cheeks burning when he caught me staring. Who would've thought several years down the line I'd be sat in a bottom-rung motel room with his obscenely good looking older brother researching monster lore. At least we would be researching monster lore, if it wasn't for the small growl my empty stomach had gurgled out. I couldn't stop the small pulse of embarrassment burning into my cheeks as Dean eyed me with a grin.

“Wanna get some lunch?” He asked, standing up like he already knew my answer.

“Fuck yes. I'm feeling burgers,” I shuffled to the edge of the bed and stood up, watching as Dean shrugged on his leather jacket and headed to the door, holding it open for me.

“Now you're speaking my language.”

*

The diner was almost as sad and withered as the motel room, however the food was nothing short of spectacular. I watched in awe as Dean polished off his second burger, a small glob of sauce sticking to his stubble and threatening to drip off his chin. He must've felt me watching in wonder - or perhaps disgust - as when he looked up from his plate he shot me a questioning glance.

“What?” His tone was a little defensive through the mouthful of fries he'd just shovelled in. I took a second before asking, half-genuine:

“Where do you put all of that?”

“Put what?”

“The food - where does it go? Do you have hollow legs? Two stomachs? Does it just evaporate as soon as you swallow it?”

He grinned, wiping the sauce from his face with a napkin.

“Goes straight to the abs baby. It's muscle fuel,” he leant back in his chair, stretching a little before patting his stomach to punctuate his statement. I simply rolled my eyes.

“Yeah right, you're not that muscly Dean.”

“How would you know? You've never seen me with my shirt off.”

“I know, and I plan to keep it that way.”

He feigned a pout before returning to his fries. We ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, my mind absently going back to all the lore we should be trying to gather. I gripped my milkshake that had so generously been served in a thin paper cup, attempting to suck the practically solid beverage up the equally thin paper straw. Finding the nearest library would be the next task on our to-do list, despite the protesting I know I'll get from Dean.

“Hey, (Y/n)?” My train of thought was derailed at the sound of my name. The slurping of over-thickened milkshake from myself ceased.

“What's up?”

“What were you like in college?”

I eyed him with caution, wondering what part of his brain was in control right now.

“What do you wanna know?”

Catching the wariness to divulge him to such information, he smiled slightly, shrugging his shoulders.

“I'm not asking to be weird, I just-” he paused, choosing his next words tactfully, “the way you described Sam as being a totally different person - some hot-shot with the perfect grades, popular friends and a girlfriend like Jess - it just got me thinking. How would Sam have described you?”

I almost spat my dairy-goop back into the straw, my brain freezing.

“Dean,” I started before planning what I was going to say, placing my cup on the table. “Sam wouldn't be able to describe me.”

My words brought a small smirk to his lips.

“You were that hot, huh?”

“What the fuck- no- I wasn't- he didn't- Sam never- ” I stopped myself before I had an aneurysm and took a deep breath.

“I was in a totally different crowd to Sam. He was always surrounded by people and, well, I barely even had a crowd.”

“Lone wolf?”

“Bingo. But definitely not the cool, collected, stoic type. Think more, invisible to the public eye, always carrying books, and borderline selective mute because of how shy I was.”

“Oh… what changed?,” Deans tone changed entirely, genuine intrigue seeming to take the wheel. I couldn't help but laugh slightly, remembering my method to forcing myself out of my bubble.

“The only job I could get was in a bar. No one else wanted the hours and I desperately needed cash. I didn't really have a choice after that,” I paused, remembering how terrified I was on my first day and grinned slightly, grateful for the extra confidence I had now because I took that leap.

“Hey, what sort of crowd do you think I would've been in?”

I snorted, looking up into his expectant eyes - almost captivated by the glistening greens.

“What am I? A BuzzFeed quiz? I have no idea Dean, you're too much of a wildcard to predict. You probably would've fit in with anyone and everyone.”

“Even you?”

For reasons unbeknownst to even myself, my breath caught in my throat. The sudden soft sincerity of his voice contradicting his usual temperament, my heart starting to flutter in my chest. If the college version of myself had met Dean back then I just know I would have been enthralled at first glance.

“I don't think you would've noticed me. You would've been surrounded by every tall, thin blonde and brunette with perfect tits. Trust me, you would've been distracted,” I smiled an almost sad smile at the thought of him simply being on university grounds and having the time of his life - knowing it was something that he was never going to get the chance to experience in this upside down life of his. Of ours. He tapped his fingers on the table for a second, likely lost in some ludicrous thought I don't think I'd want to be privy to. I attempted another slurp of my milkshake when the paper straw gave out and flopped in half, the need to leave conversation and the diner suddenly looming over me.

“Come on, let's get to the library before it closes,” I stood and pulled my oversized sweater down so it covered my ass before reaching for my backpack. Just as my fingers touched the worn fabric of the strap it was torn away, my head snapping up to Dean who flung it over one shoulder with his signature grin on his face.

“Lead the way nerd.”

I couldn't help but beam at his playfulness. I hated the fact that he made it so easy to adore him. Hated that he completely overlooked how I was his total opposite in almost every way. How when we were talking, his eyes never left mine - how he was genuinely interested in what I was like in the past. And how, when I had his attention, he didn't even notice that the hot waitress had written her number on a napkin and left it next to him.

*

The trip to the library was about as eventful as it sounded. After checking out multiple books on cursed items, local lore and popular antiques from the seventies, we loaded ourselves back into the impala, made an all-important beer run before heading back to the motel.

The small table by the window was now totally smothered by a blanket of books, maps and empty beer bottles. Deans chin rested in his palms as he stared blankly at the screen in front of him, and I must've read the last sentence of the paragraph laid before me a dozen times without it even sinking in. The obnoxious dripping and humming of ancient appliances was starting to make me feel restless.

“It has to be the boots,” Dean groaned, draining the last of his beer.

“Either the boots or the disco ball. But my money is on boots as well,” I sighed, pushing the book away from me and standing slowly, gathering the quickly accumulating litter now scattered around us.

“I'm gonna make some coffee, my brain is fried over how fucking ridiculous this case is,” I ditched the trash in the bin before filling the coffee machine, listening to it whir to life whilst I headed to my bed. I could feel Deans gaze on my back as I rummaged around my bag in search of a specific item.

“What are you looking fo-” he'd started to ask the question but his voice died in his throat when I turned around. I quickly pushed my newly adorned glasses up the bridge of my nose, already feeling the oversized frame start to slip down as I tried not to make a big deal over them.

“What?” My tone was a fraction off aggressive when I realised he was staring. He seemed to snap out of his daze, quickly rubbing the back of his neck and turning back to the laptop screen. He cleared his throat

“I uh, I didn't know you wore glasses,” I could tell from the slight tremble in his voice that his mind was reeling.

“Is there a problem with that?”

“No! I mean, no, absolutely not. They look good. The glasses, I mean. The glasses look good. Not on their own, obviously. On your face. They look good on your face. You have a great fa-”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry.”

I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and set it on the counter, filling it to the brim with caffeinated goodness. I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my lips at Deans fumbling, almost finding the whole ordeal a little charming. I sat back down at the table and pulled the books back towards me, also grabbing my pen and tattered notebook.

“The guests at the club mentioned hearing footsteps - so it has to be the boots, right? A disco ball wouldn't make that sound…” my voice trailed off when I realised that, even though Dean was looking at me, he wasn't listening to a word I was saying.

“Earth to Dean?”

He flinched slightly at his name, but felt no shame delving in with a completely off-topic question.

“So how long have you worn glasses?”

“I’ve always worn them,” I slid back into my chair at the table opposite him, not sure whether to laugh at the shocked expression on his face or whether to be concerned about his observation skills.

“What?! No way, I would’ve noticed,” He opened another beer and took a sip before tracing the opening to the bottle over his bottom lip.

“ I only wear them for concentration work, and I have emergency contact lenses if I know I’m going to be around a lot of people as I don’t particularly like how they look.”

Dean made a small disagreeable expression before averting his gaze from mine back to the laptop, taking another swig of his beer. I placed my coffee mug down and settled back into the book I was reading before, and after a few moments I could feel my skin begin to prickle - as though I could feel a pair of eyes on me. I glanced up, my breath immediately catching in my throat. Deans eyes found mine, burning with an intensity that made my heart hammer in my chest. I didn’t want to look away, but under his gaze I felt like I’d been stripped bare, unable to hide my insecurities from an eye that seemed to scorch through to my very core.

“Dean-”

“(Y/n), you should really have more confidence in yourself; I think the glasses look cute as fuck. You should wear them more,” a fierce blush erupted across my face when he spoke, his assured tone leaving no room for disagreement. I tried desperately not to let on that his words held any sort of impact over my decisions so I looked down, away from his scrutiny and simply said:

“Maybe I will.”

He hummed in approval, finally looking elsewhere and I couldn’t stop myself from breathing a sigh of relief when the pressure of his stare was averted.

The evening dragged on and an hour and a half had passed since his loaded comment. I was on the third book we’d checked out of the library, now trying desperately to find the curse that would cause a pair of 1970s glam rock boots to dance for eternity and haunt anyone who tried to wear them. This case was absurd, and I could feel myself growing restless with the small amount of progress we’d made. I huffed out a sigh and leant back in my chair, the faux leather and rusted metal creaking under my weight. Pulling the hair bobble from around my wrist I scooped my hair into a bundle on the top of my head, securing it in place; the sensation of air on my neck seemed to clear some of the fog from my brain. The messy bun was comfortably enough that I could forget it was there, and I allowed myself a stretch before leaning back over the table, grasping my pen. As I began to read the next segment, I absently traced the end of the pen over my bottom lip, running it back and forth a few times before gently nibbling on the end. I heard the shuffling of Dean moving in his seat and a ragged clearing of his throat before the sound of vigorous laptop keys clicking ensued. Without looking up at him I continued reading, the pen still tapping my bottom lip, and when I neared the bottom of the paragraph, I slowly licked the pad of my index finger. My eyes never leaving the words, I turned the page swiftly with my dampened digit, the transition from one page to the next perfectly seamless. Another shuffle from the man opposite followed by a quiet groan filled the silence between us. Pen still between my teeth, I lifted only my eyes to glance at him and noted the dusting of pink across his cheeks and the furrow in his brow. Concluding that he’d had one too many beers I decided to ignore his persistent fidgeting, returning to my previous task on monotonous reading. Several sentences in and I’d almost forgotten Deans restlessness - that was until I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, deep in thought, that I earned myself a throaty groan and an exasperated sigh. I looked up just in time to watch him wipe a large hand down his face, momentarily masking his pained expression.

“Can you not do that? I can’t concentrate when you do that.”

“Do what?” Upon asking my question I absently took the pen between my teeth again, quickly glancing down at the book to place a mental bookmark.

“That.”

“What?”

“That. That thing you do with our mouth, and the pen, and your tongue and your finger. Can you please stop before it kills me.”

The heat beneath my skin was immediate at his admission, knowing my small, absent-minded actions were playing on his mind and making it hard for him to think straight. I instinctively crossed my legs, a fluttering in my lower belly instantly dragging my mind back to the deprived things I’d imagined Dean doing to me in the depths of night. The places I’d imagined his hands travelling, the areas his lips would touch and the sensations his tongue could create. These were deeply, deeply personal fantasies, and right now as Dean looked at me with a restrained hunger, I felt like I was wearing these fantasies for the world to see. For Dean to see.

“It doesn’t help that you’ve been sat over there like a sexy fucking librarian all evening, but every time you do that anything with that mouth - shit, sweetheart you’re driving me insane.” His voice was gravelly as he looked at me with desperate eyes across the table. The overly rational part of my brain had shut down completely, and now the part of my mind that had spent hours conjuring vivid scenes of Dean Winchester ravishing me in my entirety had taken the charge. I stood slowly, taking a moment to reason with myself - unsuccessfully of course - before sinking to my knees in front of my chair. I could see Deans strong thighs were spread wide beneath the table so I crawled forwards, across the cold tiles and placed myself between his legs. Resting my palms softly on his thighs I made him flinch at the unexpected contact. He immediately scooted his chair back, allowing a gap for me to poke my head through - his hand instantly acting as a barrier between the edge of the table and my skull. I got comfortable and allowed myself a moment to gaze up at him, to take in the strained furrow in his brow and the parting of his lips. I observed the way his chest rose and fell in apprehensive breaths, and the way his free hand clenched into a fist on his thigh - like he was so desperate yet so scared to touch me.

“(Y/n)-”

“Dean,” I spoke softly, slowly running my hands up his thighs - delicate palms against rough denim, “you’re a smart boy - you know I wouldn’t do something I didn’t want to do. So please, don’t say I don’t have to do this.”

Dean released a shaky breath the moment my fingers unclasped his jeans. I tugged them down slightly with his help, just enough so I could dip my hand into his boxers and wrap my fingers around his half-hard length. The moment my skin touched his, his head lolled back and his eyes fluttered closed with a breathy moan on his lips.

“Fuck…”

I gently pulled him from his confines, coming face to face with the cock I’d literally dreamt of again and again. I took the scene in, committing to memory the sharp outline of his jaw and the way his long lashes rested on his lightly-freckled cheeks. The way that, every time he breathed in, I could see his defined muscle tone through the thin fabric of his shirt; and with every small caress that my fingers made against his length, it made his fingers twitch and teeth clench. I licked my lips before leaning in and took his tip into my mouth, not giving him a chance to finish sucking in air through his teeth before I plunged his entire length down my throat. 

“Oh FUCK.”

His hands flew to my hair, fingers gripping tight as they loosened strands from the messy bun, causing them to fall around my face. He’d lifted his head to look down at me, pupils blown as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked nothing more than enthralled. Infatuated. Entranced. I moved my head up and down, up and down, again and again to a steady rhythm, pressing my tongue to the underside of his now rock-hard cock to trace every vein and nerve-ending.

“Shit, (Y/n), I didn’t know you could suck cock, like, at all… how’re you s’fuckin’ good…” his voice was breathless as he continued to grip my hair, his head flopping to the side as pleasure started to overcome his senses. I released him with a small ‘pop’, wrapping my fingers around him and smearing the warm mixture of saliva and precum from tip to base.

“Despite everything I told you earlier, Dean, I’m not a virgin - and this certainly isn’t my first rodeo,” my voice came out more sultry than I’d expected and I could feel Dean tremble beneath my palms.

“Fuck, I wish I’d known that sooner,” I chewed on my bottom lip, quickly becoming addicted to the way he writhed at my touch. The way he moaned and gripped my hair tighter when I sucked him back into my mouth was like pure ecstasy, my insides heating up and throbbing with an ache of familiar arousal. Like a thirst that could only be satisfied by him. By tasting him, feeling him on my tongue and drinking in every sound that passed his plush parted lips. The sensation of my glasses slipping down my nose as I sped up my ministrations had me reaching to push them back up, but not before Dean beat me to it. With the rough pad of his thumb he pushed on the plastic bridge, his palm and fingers pressed to my flushed cheek in the most tender, almost heart wrenching caress. I thought my heart might stop when he tilted my face up to his; lustful eyes burning into mine with a vehemence I’d never encountered. I stopped in my tracks, all actions ceased as the spell he’d somehow put me under wouldn’t let me look away. 

“If you keep going like that darlin’ this whole thing is gonna be over before you know it,” his voice was raspy, a rawness to it from the harsh breaths and ragged moans that had been pulled from his throat. He slowly pulled his cock from my spit-slick lips and grasped it loosely, giving himself a few lazy pumps whilst his other hand never left my face. He stared down at me, taking a few moments as though he was committing the sight of me, knelt between his knees with flushed cheeks and swollen lips to memory. Once it seemed that memory was locked away in the depths of his mind, he grasped me by the arm and pulled me effortlessly into his lap, his fingers almost bruising against my skin. Immediately I felt him, in his entirety, press against me with the heat and wetness seeping through my jeans and past my panties. This time when our eyes met, there was a mutual desperation; a need to consume each other and to feel every inch of his heated skin against mine. He pulled me frantically down to him and crashed his lips against mine. 

Some people describe their first kiss with someone like butterflies in their stomach, or fireworks exploding all around them. That wasn’t at all what this was like. Kissing Dean Winchester was different - it was wild and untamed - and describing this experience in such a mundane way would be like adding water to a top-shelf whiskey. Kissing Dean Winchester was like driving the impala at one thirty with the roar of the engine drowning out the rest of the world. It was like trying to ride a wild mustang without a saddle, or daring to stand on the highest peak on Earth with nothing to tie you down. It was exhilarating in the most dangerous way imaginable - and I was now officially a thrill seeker. 

The warm taste of the beer on his tongue and the masculine scent of old leather and cologne was pulling me under. Breathing no longer mattered as long as his mouth was on mine and his fingers were in my hair, now tugging the bobble out and throwing it to the floor. As my hair tumbled free he grabbed under my thighs and stood effortlessly, moving me from his lap to the edge of the table without his lips leaving mine. I winced slightly as the corners and several books and the laptop jabbed into my rear and I fumbled to move everything aside, failing when I refused to unlock our lips. Deans patience was non-existent and with one sweep of his strong arm everything tumbled to the floor - including the laptop. I threw the remaining books from underneath me down to join them, no longer caring for their wellbeing. Before I could pull Dean back in - to allow him to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to me - he hastily pulled off my boots and tugged down my jeans, throwing every item to the growing pile of chaos beside us. I discarded my sweater and top, but before I let his fingers touch my bra I wanted nothing more than to return the favour. 

“I guess you can forget about that whole ‘never seeing me shirtless’ thing, huh?” he smirked through the sexual fog, not waiting for a reply as his lips hungrily found mine again, his own top falling to the floor. 

“Shut up Winchester. Now are you gonna fuck me or wh- OH FUCK-”

Two thick fingers crept under my panties and plunged into me with zero hesitation, curling up and stroking the sensual cushion deep within my core with skillful precision. 

“Oh yeah? You want me to fuck you?” Even with my face now buried in the crook of his neck, I could hear the smirk in his voice, the tormenting tone going straight to my brain.

“Y-yes- fuck- please,” my knees twitched either side of him, squeezing at his hips with every push of his fingers. I gripped his shoulders tight, nails indenting his skin as I leant back to look at him better. Seeing the beads of sweat on his chest and brow alongside the raw, carnal desire in his eyes could have undone me there and then. He frowned in disapproval when I moved to remove my glasses, the fingers that were just inside me now wrapped forcefully around my wrist.

“What d’ya think you’re doing?” straight away I knew his growling question left no room for negotiation.

“I was just-”

“The glasses stay on.”

“To the end?”

“‘Til I say you can take them off.”

I did as I was told, moving my hand to grip the soft strands on the back of his neck, softly dragging my nails over his scalp and drawing a shiver from his spine and a groan from his lungs. He pulled me against him, crushing his lips against mine one more time. He swiftly pulled away and I leant back on my hands, both of us taking a moment to drink each other in - to bask in lascivious glory. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and looked up at him through my lashes, the lenses of my glasses starting to fog around the edges. Another deep moan rumbled from his chest as his heated gaze stayed locked to mine.

“I can’t wait any longer now that you’ve looked at me like that. Fuck.”

With a large hand gripping the soft flesh of my thigh he pulled my underwear to one side and lined himself up, slowly sinking in. Blissful moans harmonised between us, the rawness of him stretching me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced and my quivering thighs wrapped around him, pushing him to the hilt. He secured his large hands on the soft flesh of my hips and held me in place as he slowly withdrew. I could feel him; feel every ridge and vein drag out and then in, out and in, over my most sensitive, intimate, area. The slick sounds of our intimacy  began to echo around the room as he picked up speed, strong thighs working at a feverish pace. With every thrust he pushed against that one spot that made my legs jerk and eyes water, my arms almost giving out underneath me as the table rattled beneath my weight. With the ferocity of his pounding and the heightened sensitivity he’d curated between my legs only moments before, we both knew that neither of us would last long. The sounds of his ragged breaths and throaty moans alone had me clenching around him already, and I know my constricting muscles already had his hips stuttering as I sucked him in with every thrust.

“Fuck (Y/n)- You’re so fuckin’ tight-”

I chewed on my bottom lip as his desperate eyes met mine.

“Oh yeah? Well I feel like you’re cock is in my fucking ribcage- oh fuck-”

He slipped one hand between us, his large palm resting on my lower belly as his thumb drew fast circles around my clit. The immediate contact on my bundle of nerves had my whole body quivering, the knot of an impending climax already starting to twist tighter and tighter in the depths of my core. The way that Dean fucked me into the motel room table was something that I would be able to feel deep in my soul for the rest of my life - my body and entire nervous system having never been worked in such a feral way before. Dean dropped forward and crushed my body into his - one large strong arm wrapped around my trembling body and kept me pressed against him as his head dropped to the crook of my neck. Soft lips pressed hot kisses against my shoulder, teeth gently nibbling the soft flesh as the coil wound and wound, the wave of orgasmic bliss rising higher and higher as my mind emptied, leaving behind only one thought.

Dean.

He was all consuming - all I could see, taste and smell. All I could feel. Oh God could I feel him; driving me to the brink of pure bliss as he frantically sped up - desperate to seek his own undoing as well as my own. One… two… three more fervid thrusts and the peak he’d helped me ascend to shattered around me as I practically screamed his name, the white-hot euphoria scorching my insides as I clamped like a vice around him. 

“Oh shit- (Y/n) I can’t- fuck-”

I grabbed the back of his head and pushed his mouth to mine as he came undone, spilling inside me as he worked through his own white-hot euphoria. 

The kiss we shared evolved from hot and needy to soft and wanting - the sensation of hot cum running down the inside of my thigh and cooling against my skin being the only thing to pull me away. Dean continued to lean over me for a moment, looking down at me with an expression that told me he had so much he wanted to say. Instead, he looked down at his release now starting to pool on the floor beneath us, then to the books and laptop that had been thrown across the floor before turning back to face me with the most devilish grin on his face.

“You know that this mess is all your fault, right?”

I scoffed.

“My fault? How is it my fault?”

“Because, sweetheart…” he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and pushed lightly on the plastic bridge sitting on my nose.

“You put on on those fucking glasses.”

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

Taglist: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @libby99hb @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung

[norrisainz33]

surprise || op81

☆ summary: oscar surprises his partner on valentine’s day

☆ pairing: oscar piastri x nonfamous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none

☆ requested: nope

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has posted to their story

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yourbff: DIVA DOWN

ynuser: it rough out here bestie i miss you and osco and im so tired

yourbff: my queen 😭 i miss you more and i know he does too bb. only a little bit more time and you’ll get to see him in aus!! plusssss im seeing you this weekend

ynuser: ugh i know i know it’s just a spilled coffee day and im emotional

user1: liammmmmm noooooo 😫

lando: rip

ynuser: rip is right

user2: i love how you just be a normal girly going to work and also dating the op81 like

oscarpiastri: spilled coffee or not you still look incredible

ynuser: thank you sweetheart

oscarpiastri: of course gorgeous. i just sent you £20 - go get another coffee on me please

ynuser: oscar 😭😭😭😭😭😭

mclarenf1: nooooo coffee in aus is on us!!

ynuser: love you admin 🧡

user3: girl i need you to post a grwm ur makeup is always flawless

oscarpiastri has posted to his story

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yourbff: OSCHINA 🗣️ i need ur assistance

oscarpiastri: lol what’s up?

yourbff: your darling girlfriend is down bad and i know she’s trying to pretend like she’s not for your sake but i think we should organize a lil something something to lift her spirits

oscarpiastri: already in the works. i was actually going to text you to ask for help

user2: i’m obsessed actually

mclarenf1: nice

user4: the home race hoodie!! take 💳 my 💳 money 💳

ynuser: cutie patootie i love the new helmet! p.s can’t wait for my piastri home race jumper to come in the mail

oscarpiastri: it should be there on friday with a special delivery 😉

ynuser: oooooo can’t wait

user5: this is gonna be your year oscar i just know it

user6: i can’t wait to see that fresh lid on track

oscarpiastri has posted to his private story

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yourbff: i really hope you removed her from your close friends list before posting this

oscarpiastri: i did don’t worry! and she for sure is going to be at the restaurant we talked about at 7 right?

yourbff: yes!! she thinks she’s meeting me there for #galentines. you’re lucky i’m letting you steal my valentine

oscarpiastri: i am lucky that’s for sure! thank you for all your help ❤️

lando: omg are you going to see y/n/n

oscarpiastri: correct! gonna surprise her for valentine’s day

lando: C U T E

nicolepiastri: i wish you were coming home but go get that girl!!

oscarpiastri: i’ll be home soon ❤️

logansargeant: better be going to see y/n 🤨

oscarpiastri: i am 🥹 miss you man

mclarenf1: have fun oscar!

ynuser has posted to their story

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user2: hot hot hot hot

yourbff: oh my god you’re gorgeous. i’m gonna have the hottest date tn

ynuser: stopppppp thank you

user7: oscar is the luckiest man in the world

oscarpiastri: wow sorry i just started drooling

ynuser: hahaha oscar 😂

oscarpiastri: can’t help it! you’re so insanely beautiful 😍😫

ynuser: and i’m all yours baby

oscarpiastri: mm thank goodness

alexandrasaintmleux: you’re stunning. i hope you know that baby girl

ynuser: alex i’m gonna cry 😭

user8: WOOF WOOF WOOF sorry idk what came over me there

iamrebeccad: happy valentines beautiful

ynuser: happy valentines darling!! i hope carlos treated you like the queen you are

iamrebeccad: i hope oscar does the same 😉

user9: idk if i wanna be you or be with you

oscarpiastri posted to his story

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user5: may this sort of love find me

yourbff: 🤍🤍🤍 adorable

oscarpiastri: yes ❤️

user6: couple goals

ynuser: i’m sorry for ugly crying at dinner. thank you so much for flying all the way here to see me!! i know how crazy things are getting with the season so close😭🤍

oscarpiastri: never apologize for feeling your feelings baby. there’s no place i’d rather be than with you

ynuser: how did i get so lucky????

oscarpiastri: i often ask myself the same thing

user9: oscar you have to stop setting the bar for men so high

iamrebeccad: give her a hug for me

oscarpiastri: done 🫶🏻

mclarenf1: our favorite girl 💐🧡

oscarpiastri has made a post

liked by lando, logansargeant, ynuser, yourbff, mclarenf1, alex_albon, alexandrasaintmleux, and 562,348 others

oscarpiastri: spent the weekend with my forever valentine

view all replies

opeightyone: our favorite duo 🤍

user9: my mom and dad 🗣️

lando: ewwwwww this is rlly cute

oscarpiastri: thanks?

user14: i just showed this to my partner and asked why they didn’t do this for me

ynuser: forever and always ❤️

oscarpiastri: promise?

ynuser: yes handsome 😘

user12: end game end game end game

nicolepiastri: love you both so much

ynuser: love YOU mama piastri

user14: y’all are the blueprint 🥹

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🤍 happy valentine’s day 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[pomegranatesarchive]

two lonely friends | oscar piastri

paring: oscar piastri x journalist!reader

summary: lando norris has two lonely best friends. he gets an idea, why not set them up?

f1wags: y/n l/n, landos bestfriend was seen entering the monaco grand prix paddock today!

view comments below!

user1: OH BROTHER

user2: free my girl y/n 🗣️

user3: the day y/n stops getting referred to as “landos bestfriend” is the day i can REST

user4: landos bestfriend?? sorry i only know y/n l/n f1 journalist??

user5: y’all do this every race 🙄 OFC SHES THERE. THATS HER JOB.

user6: she’s such a moocher

user7: she’s literally there to do HER JOB?

user8: it’s crazy how after a year of oscar being in f1, we still haven’t gotten a y/n and oscar interaction ???

user9: y/n, our comfort outfit queen

ynandlandocontent: my favorite snippet of landos and y/ns interview 🧡

view comments below!

user10: ugh them ☹️☹️

user11: literally just make out already

user12: the very best FRIENDS

user13: she’s so unprofessional 💀

user14: this wasn’t even part of the interview 😭 this was just a blooper 🙄

user15: OKAY BUT Y/N FINALLY GOT TO INTERVIEW OSCAR ???

user16: ugh i love them so much 😞

user17: lando and y/n shippers where??

user18: HERE 🙋‍♂️

oscarpastyupdates: y/n interviewing oscar today!

view comments below!

user19: oscar “but um” piastri everyone!

user20: FINALLY SOME Y/N x OSCAR CONTENT!!

user23: why do i ship…

user24: they literally only talked once 😭😭

user23: okay let me BEEE

user25: guys did you see how hard he was blushing, or am i just crazy???

user26: they literally want each other SO BAD

user27: i can feel the tension through the screen

user28: ok so do i ship lando x y/n or oscar x y/n

— one day later !

ynupdates: queen y/n was seen out last night by multiple fans! she looks beautiful!

view comments below!

user29: HELLOOO???? IS THAT NOT OSCAR

user30: ARE WE JUST GOING TO PRETEND THAT THAT IS NOT OSCAR PIASTRI???

user31: omg oscar stole landos girl

user32: landos girl???

user33: wait i like this

user34: i love how the caption doesn’t mention oscar at ALL

user35: let them cook 🔥🔥

user36: okay oscar i see you 👀

user37: i wonder how lando feels about this..

liked by charles_leclerx, yourusername, landonorris, and 673,928 others!

lando.jpg: happy birthday to my little sister! you’re ancient now 😞 here’s to many more birthdays together!

view comments below!

user38: aw ☹️

user39: okay guys i’m crying

user40: lando ALWAYS eats with his birthday captions

user41: i wonder if landos ex’s had ever felt intimidated by y/n

user42: y/n has said that she has never not gotten along with landos gfs, so there’s that!

user43: okay now kiss

user44: i still ship idc

user45: her and lando ✅ her and oscar ❌

yourusername: ugh lando you love me so much, it’s disgusting

lando.jpg: i will take away your present.

yourusername: NO IM SORRY

liked by, mclaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 873,928 others!

yourusername: and who’s gonna pay attention to the redheads of the world?

pic credits: some kid named oscar??

view comments below!

user46: OKAY OKAY OKAY

user47: ugh you look so good 😔

user48: OSCAR IN THE CAPTION ??? WE ARE SO BACK!!!

user49: happy birthday queen!!

user50: happy birthday 🧡🧡

user51: oscar and y/n hard launch when???

oscarpiastri: ME I’LL PAY ATTENTION TO THE REDHEADS OF THE WOLRD!!! I WILL!!

user52: okay oscar let’s calm down..

user53: oh he’s down bad

user54: who needs more confirmation then THIS??

liked by maxverstappen1, mclaren, landonorris, and 873,928 others!

oscarpiastri: happy birthday to my best friend, and the most beautiful lady in the world 🧡

view comments below!

landonorris: bestfriend?

landonorris: oh okay

landonorris: cool cool cool

landonorris: yeah that’s chill

landonorris: totally NOT going to brust out into tears rn

landonorris: hahaha

landonorris: that would be stupid

landonorris: cool cool cool

landonorris: okay okay okay

landonorris: i set you two up and you just completely forget about me huh

landonorris: wow i can’t believe this

landonorris; i’m going to die alone

landonorris; alone and sad

landonorris: FUCK YOU GUYS

user55: let’s all just move pass lando having a mental breakdown…

[ssa-dado]

I could totally see Aaron being jealous. Maybe a oneshot of her meeting Sean Hotchner for the first time.

Covering Up - SOS

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff Summary: You’re late, and while Gideon’s passive-aggressive remarks are expected, it’s Hotch who really has you on edge. But it’s not just his authority; it’s the way you inadvertently caught the attention of Hotch’s brother, Sean. Warnings: None, just wanted to clarify the story is set around late 1998 or early 1999, before Hotch became Unit Chief (Gideon was in charge instead). Word Count: 3k Dado's Corner: You didn't see this coming, did you? Something cute to celebrate the end of the year. Sorry it took so much to respond, I totally forgot about this ask... hope you like itttttt. Again, HOTCH IN LOOOOOOOVE but doesn't want to admit hahaha what a fool.

masterlist

You were late today. Remarkably late.

For the first time ever in your life.

And while the idea of Gideon giving you one of his passive-aggressive “I’m not mad, just disappointed” speeches wasn’t exactly fun, there was one person who truly terrified you in this situation.

Hotch.

How ironic: it wasn’t your boss you were afraid of - it was your fussy coworker. The same coworker whose desk, unfortunately, happened to sit right in front of yours.

Perfect.

You were still trying to salvage your dignity in the elevator, jabbing at the elevator button, fumbling with your hair as the doors closed. Maybe an updo would make you look less… late. But by the time you reached your floor, the mess you’d made felt more “distressed damsel” than “competent federal agent.”

So, naturally, you made the split-second decision to undo the whole thing, pulling your hair loose halfway to your desk.

You winced.

Not because anyone was watching - everyone seemed too absorbed in their own work - but because if someone had been looking, you’d have perfectly executed that clichéd, overly dramatic hair flip straight out of a low-budget action movie.

The kind made by men, for men.

The ones where the femme fatale struts into the room, stiletto heels clicking, hair whipping in slow motion, cleavage doing all the talking, her entire existence engineered for the male gaze.

And here you were. No stilettos. No slow motion. Just… the hair flip.

Fantastic.

You shook it off, hoping to slink to your desk unnoticed, now more focused to brace yourself for the silent judgement of-

A man.

Not the man you expected - Hotch.

An actual man, a somehow handsome man.

Oh God. He’d definitely seen you do the dramatic hair flip.

His smirk confirmed it - no need for a profiler to figure that one out.

A man, sitting comfortably in Hotch’s chair. And, notably, no Hotch in sight.

“Are you here for a consultation with Agent Hotchner?” you asked, doing your best to sound at least professional as you set your bag down.

He chuckled – like you were the punchline of some inside joke you weren’t in on. “Actually, yes.”

Though you couldn’t help but study him... it was in your nature afterall.

He was about Hotch’s height, blond, blue-eyed, and generically good-looking in a way that probably gave him the nerve to sit at an agent’s desk without any kind of second thought.

But what really stood out? He looked about your age.

Very early twenties - which, mathematically speaking, made him way too young to be here asking for a consultation.

Not that you were one to talk. You were constantly reminded you were “too young” to be working for the FBI. So, at least you had that in common.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he read from your badge, dragging out the syllables for some of his twisted reasons you chose to ignore. Then he smirked. “You’re young.”

“She is.” Hotch’s voice cut through the air before you could form a response, making you startle slightly. He was suddenly there, right behind you, like he’d materialized out of thin air.

“Sean,” he said, his tone clipped in that uniquely Hotch way that made you feel guilty even if you’d done nothing wrong, “I told you to wait for me outside.”

“And why are you so late?” Hotch added, his focus snapping to you with laser precision, his brows drawing together in that way that made your stomach twist in both irritation and… something else.

Classic Aaron Hotchner.

Two seconds on the scene, already cataloging what annoyed him. Efficiency at its finest.

“Damn, Aaron, relax. It’s barely been a minute,” Sean said, standing up finally, though not without flinching slightly under the weight of Hotch’s glare.

He stepped closer to you, extending a hand like he wasn’t about to be vaporized by the man’s disapproval. “I’m Sean, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

Before you could decide whether to shake his hand or politely tell him to run for cover, Hotch’s voice sliced through the air, as sharp and unyielding as ever. “No, you haven’t. Y/N, this is Sean, my brother. Sean, this is Agent Y/L/N, my partner.”

It took approximately two seconds after those words left his mouth for Hotch to realize he’d made not one but two rookie mistakes.

The first? The fact that, for some reason, you got to be “Y/N” while Sean - his brother - was firmly stuck with Agent Y/L/N.

A seemingly innocuous choice, but an interesting one.

Almost as if Hotch didn’t want Sean to forget who you were. Or worse, as if he wanted to keep that small, intimate privilege - using your first name - exclusively for himself.

And why?

Perhaps because, whether he admitted it or not, you’d managed to take up residence in his overworked brain. You weren’t just his colleague - you were his very own walking, talking paradox.

Equal parts intellect and quick wit, you could quote anything from your beloved dead philosophers as easily as you could dismantle someone’s argument with a single sarcastic comment.

You lingered, persistently, in his thoughts - too vividly, too often - so much so that you’d even started showing up in his dreams.

That might explain why his tongue betrayed him now - a slip you would undoubtedly label as ‘textbook Freudian.’

Somehow, through the cracks in the armor of the man who prided himself on control and precision, a truth he had no business acknowledging had leaked out.

Because, inexplicably and irreversibly, he’d just let his younger brother - of all people - catch the faintest glimpse of something he refused to admit even to himself: that he wasn’t entirely indifferent to you.

Not that Sean picked up on it - yet.

No, Sean’s focus was already drifting toward his second mistake, the one Hotch really hoped would keep Sean too distracted to notice the first. And, to Hotch’s silent horror, it worked like a charm.

“Partner?” Sean repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are the two of you…?” He let the insinuation hang, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement.

Because here’s the thing - thanks to the way Hotch had worded it, Sean wasn’t just thinking that his big brother was casually sleeping with you. Oh no, this was way bigger.

This was Sean, standing here wide-eyed and completely convinced that his older, emotionally constipated, miserably single brother - who’d spent years brooding after his breakup Haley - had somehow not only managed to get a girlfriend but had kept it a secret.

And worse? That this whole scenario meant Hotch was maybe, just maybe, a little happy these days.

That alone was enough to blow Sean’s mind.

But before his imagination could run too far, you stepped in, your voice sharp and immediate. “God, no,” you blurted, practically recoiling from the suggestion.

“No,” Hotch said at the same time, though in stark contrast to your reaction, his was flat and unbothered.

Sean chuckled at your synchronized denial, which only prompted Hotch to fix you with one of his looks - the kind that felt like it could peel layers off your soul. Judgy, silent, but impossibly loud at the same time.

The kind of look that made you curious.

“Was he like this as a kid,” you asked Sean, “or was he ever actually a normal person?”

Sean’s smirk widened. “The only difference between then and now is that now they pay him to act like this.”

You laughed, loud and genuine, and Sean joined in - a perfect snapshot of solidarity between two survivors of Hotch’s relentless Hotch-ness. “Though I have to wonder… maybe he misunderstood the government’s contributions as a green light to act this way. It’s kind of like when you teach a dog to stand on two legs for a treat, and then he just keeps doing it.” You commented.

You and Sean burst into laughter, your voices echoing through the bullpen, while Hotch just stood there.

Watching. Seething.

But not entirely for the reasons he’d expect.

Sure, he was irritated that you had the audacity to make fun of him within perfect earshot - a clear, deliberate payback for all the grief and micromanagement he’d put you through.

But there was something deeper beneath his discomfort, something far more unsettling.

It wasn’t just that you were laughing at him - it was that you were laughing with Sean.

That easy, effortless kind of laughter, the kind he so rarely managed to coax out of you. Sean, his little brother, was already pulling it out of you like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like he’d cracked some code Hotch didn’t even know existed.

And that stung. More than it should’ve.

Because as much as he told himself it was ridiculous - childish, even - he couldn’t shake the flicker of jealousy curling in his chest.

A low, unwelcome burn.

It wasn’t just about the laughter. It was the way you looked at Sean. The way you seemed curious, intrigued by him in a way that made Hotch feel like an outsider in his own space. Like he was standing just outside the circle, close enough to see but not close enough to touch.

And he hated that.

He hated how much it bothered him.

Hated that he cared at all.

Hated the fact that, for all his discipline and carefully crafted walls, you always managed to slip through the cracks.

Unnoticed until it was too late.

Though you weren’t quite as unnoticed by everyone else.

Standing on the mezzanine, there was Gideon, watching you with that unshakeable calm of his. His eyes locked onto yours, and before you could even catch your breath, he called you over to his office.

It was probably for showing up two full hours late, but who could say?

Panic was all over you, though you were certain you kept it well-hidden - at least, you hoped so.

But before you could second-guess yourself, Hotch, who had been silently observing everything, grabbed a file from his desk and walked toward you at a precise angle that turned his back to Gideon.

Then, in a blur of words, he started speaking faster than you thought possible.

“I covered for you,” he said, voice low and hurried. “Tell him you went to see your mom yesterday. You took the 5:07 a.m. train. It broke down in Baltimore - stuck for an hour and forty-two minutes. That’s why you’re late. It’s all fact checked. If he asks - and he probably won’t - you don’t have the ticket because after a 90-minute delay, the company offers a full reimbursement if you send in the original.”

Before you could process what he was saying, he thrust the file into your hands.

“I filled out all the interrogatory statements for the Arlington case. If he asks why I had them, say I’m an idiot and that you cracked the unsub before I did, so the paperwork fell to me.” His dark eyes bore into yours, and for the first time since you’d met him, he sounded almost…desperate. “Don’t panic.”

Your brain short-circuited. The only thing you managed was a breathless, “Thanks.”

He watched you go, tracking every step you took until you disappeared into Gideon’s office. His jaw tightened, his fingers twitching at his side like he was bracing himself to pull you out of trouble if it came to that.

Though Sean, ever the opportunist, broke the silence. “Since when do you cover for people?” he asked.

Hotch didn’t bother looking at him, his focus firmly fixed on the files in his hands, though his grip had tightened ever so slightly. “Since her boss called her in for something unfair. She’s the first - well, second - person to arrive every day and the last to leave. She works harder than anyone here, including me, and she never complains about it. It’s not fair to punish her for being late once when she’s the one who picks up everyone else’s slack. This is a one-time thing, and frankly, it’s probably for the best - at least she got some sleep for once.”

Was that an over-articulated answer to what was likely more of an exclamation than an actual question? Yes. But better to be thorough than shallow - or at least, that’s what Hotch told himself.

Sean, on the other hand, had no qualms about being a bit shallow.

“You’re sure that’s the reason she was late?” Sean asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence. “Not because she, you know…” He trailed off, tilting his head, the mischievous grin practically begging Hotch to take the bait.

No. Of course not.

Not that there would’ve been anything wrong with it. Not because he wanted to come off as paternalistic or prudish about it.

Hell, if you really did, he hoped it was… fine.

Great, even.

But then, there was that annoying, traitorous part of him whispering - shouting, really - that he hoped it wasn’t too good.

Or serious.

Or anything worth bringing up more than once.

Damn it, Hotchner, could he not just be a normal, well-adjusted adult and be happy for someone else’s happiness without making it weird? Apparently not.

Still, he needed to give an actual response. Out of the 600,000 words available in the English language, what did he choose? The most original, expressive, and earth-shattering one of all: “No.”

Of course, it probably came out sounding way too sharp, betraying every tightly-coiled emotion he was trying to keep hidden.

Luckily - or unluckily - Sean was too busy zeroing in on something else to even notice.

“So,” Sean began, dragging out the word, “she’s single.”

…it wasn’t even a question.

Hotch exhaled through his nose, his patience already wearing thin. “Yes.” He admitted. “But don’t think about it.” He stopped him, already knowing where this conversation would eventually go.

“Why not?” Sean asked, his smirk practically carved into his face now. “You like her?” The teasing lilt in his voice was impossible to miss, but beneath it, there was a flicker of genuine curiosity.

Yes. Absolutely.

More than liked.

Liked in a way that he thought about you far too often, in places he shouldn’t, and at times he didn’t have the luxury of indulging.

Liked in a way that made him occasionally catch himself smiling in the middle of a meeting because some stray thought of you had slipped past his defenses.

Liked in a way that he imagined you during his early-morning runs, wondering if you’d find the sunrise as breathtaking as he did - or if you’d roll your eyes at his choice of music.

You probably would, because it was either the original cast recording of whatever Broadway musical he’d recently become obsessed with, or something from The Beatles.

Not just their classics, but the deeper cuts - the kind his mom had played on repeat during her own Beatlemania phase back in the ’60s, which was, admittedly, a phenomenon he’d inherited in his own way.

He liked you in a way that felt ridiculous, really.

Like the time he caught himself wondering if you’d like the tie he was wearing, not that he’d ever admit he chose it with you in mind.

Or when he stayed up too late re-reading one of your old case reports, pretending it was for work when it was really just to admire how sharp and thoughtful your insights were.

But admitting that? Out loud?

To Sean, of all people?

He’d rather reorganize the mountain of case files sitting on your desk alphabetically and chronologically - twice.

“No,” Hotch said instead, his tone clipped and matter-of-fact. “I work with her, Sean.”

Sean wasn’t one to let things go easily - especially when he sensed he was onto something. “Okay, so you work with her,” he said, dragging out the words like they were some kind of weak excuse. “But that doesn’t explain why I can’t take a shot. What’s stopping me?”

Hotch’s jaw clenched as he shifted his attention back to the windows of Gideon’s office. He didn’t want to say it, but he also didn’t trust his brother to let the subject drop without some kind of deflection. “You’re not her type,” he said flatly.

Sean blinked, caught off guard for a moment before recovering with an incredulous laugh. “Not her type? How do you know what her type is?”

Hotch didn’t respond right away.

He didn’t need to.

The deadpan look he shot Sean over his shoulder was enough to say ‘I know her type because I know her’.

Sean, however, wasn’t deterred. “Okay, genius, enlighten me. What exactly is her type, then? Because I’m charming, good-looking, and - let’s not forget - single.” He motioned to himself like he was presenting the world’s greatest catch.

Hotch sighed. “Her type,” he began almost whispering, now suddenly afraid that someone would hear him, “is someone more serious. Someone who knows how to respect her work ethic, her intelligence, and the fact that she’s earned her place here. Someone who doesn’t think he can waltz in and-” He cut himself off, realizing he was veering dangerously close to sounding personal.

Too personal.

Too bad he stopped talking before he could drop the one crucial piece of information Sean probably needed to know: as far as Hotch knew, you only dated older... much older.

And him being the same age as you? Yeah, that definitely didn’t work in his favor.

Sean tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “So… basically, someone who isn’t me. But someone who is… maybe a little more like you?” He watched the way Hotch’s shoulders stiffened at the suggestion.

Hotch turned fully to face his brother, his expression dark. “Sean,” he warned, his voice a low rumble.

But Sean wasn’t fazed. “I’m just saying, Aaron. You’re standing here, going on about how she deserves someone serious and respectful and all that, but you’re practically describing yourself. So maybe the reason you don’t want me going after her is because-”

“That’s enough,” Hotch interrupted, his tone sharp enough to cut through any further teasing. “It’s not appropriate, and it’s not happening. End of discussion.”

Sean held up his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk stayed firmly in place. “Alright, alright. But for the record, you didn’t deny it.”

Hotch didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. Instead, he turned back toward the windows of Gideon’s office, his gaze locking on your profile once more.

Sean followed his brother’s line of sight, leaning closer “She really does have you all twisted up, doesn’t she?”

Hotch ignored him.

But as much as he wanted to pretend Sean was wrong, the burn in his chest told him otherwise.

Because 'twisted up' was probably an understatement for what you were doing to him.

---

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24

[pholla-jm]

My Wife is Real

IMAGINE: MY WIFE IS REAL~ GOJO X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. use of y/n. use of she/her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Who do you think he’s texting?” Nobara whispers to her two classmates, Yuji and Megumi. 

Their teacher, Gojo Satoru, sat at his desk. Legs kicked up onto the desk while he was on his phone, giggling here and there. 

It was questionable if Gojo even knew that class had started. 

Megumi didn’t even bother to pay attention. He also sat on his phone, scrolling through social media. 

“I don’t know…” Yuji ponders. “Ugh, he has to be harassing a poor soul.” Yuji gasps at Nobara’s response, “no.” 

Nobara sits up in her seat, “Gojo-sensei,” she calls out. Gojo peeks up, “oh. I didn’t know you were here.” “Maybe if you stopped bothering people, you would notice.” 

Gojo places his hand on his chest and gasps dramatically. “I am not bothering anyone.” “Then who are you texting?” “My wife, duh.” 

Nobara bursts out laughing, “hahaha, yeah… yeah right.” She wheezes. Tears left the corner of her eyes as she tried to take him seriously, but she really couldn’t. 

Yuji just stares at him in confusion, “you’ve never told me about his wife. I don’t believe you.” 

Gojo gasps in shock and disbelief at his student’s words. “Huh?! I do too have a wife. That hurts my feelings that you don’t believe me!” 

Gojo’s full focus was on his students now. Trying to convince them that his wife is indeed real. “She’s literally the best person in the whole world, and the prettiest.” 

Nobara scoffs and rolls her eyes, “stop making things up Gojo-sensei. It’s getting sad at this point.” 

Gojo pouts at her words. He then grabs his phone, typing something in his phone. He puts his phone down with a triumphant smile on his face. “You’ll see.” 

“Yeah… we’ll see.” Nobara says to Megumi and Yuji. 

Megumi on the other hand was not paying attention to a single thing that was going on. He assumed something stupid was going on, so why even bother to pay attention? Yuji just has a thoughtful look on his face, trying to remember any mention of a wife. But there is no mention of one. 

“Yeah… I think you’re making this up… sorry Gojo-sensei.” “This is just getting sad…” Nobara whispers while shaking her head. 

“I can’t believe my student’s have little faith in me.” 

Only five minutes passed of slight bickering between until a knock was heard at the door. The bickering died down and all heads turned towards the door. 

Nobara’s and Yuji’s eyes widen seeing a woman at the door. 

“Who is that?” Yuji whispers to Nobara. She shrugs her shoulders, “has to be someone he hired.” 

Gojo jumps from his chair, a huge smile on his face. “Wifey!” 

He runs over to you, pulling you into a tight hold. 

You let out a strangled gasp from the impact. “Gojo,” you start, “this is the second time you forgot your lunch… and it’s only Tuesday.” 

Gojo pulls back, a faux pout on his lips, “I’m sorry.” You narrow your eyes at him, “I bet you’re just using this as an excuse to see me.” “Whoops, you caught me. Well, while you’re here. Let me introduce you to my students.” 

“Wait wait-” You didn’t get a chance to stop him because he dragged you into the front of the classroom. 

You eye the three students. Megumi had finally put down the phone, giving you an apologetic look. Nobara and Yuji were looking at you in shock. 

“Students, this is my wife, (y/n).” Gojo basically shows you off with a bright smile on his face. Hands in a jazz hand formation. You nervously smiled at the students. 

“Hello.” 

“Hello Gojo-san.” Megumi quietly said, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear. You gave the boy a sweet smile, nodding at him. 

“What?! Do you know her?” Nobara and Yuji ask him. “Yes…” 

“Yes, they’ve known each other for quite awhile now…. Sorry guys. She’s a bit shy.” Gojo says while you continue to smile at them. 

“They didn’t believe Gojo-sensi had a wife..” Megumi tells you. 

You hum before turning to Gojo, “I see… I don’t blame them.” 

“Huh?! What is that supposed to mean?” You roll your eyes. “Ever so dramatic.” “...so mean.. How can my wife be so cruel?” 

“Ugh, no one cares,” Nobara sighs, “come sit down with us (y/n)-sensei. I have so much to ask you.” 

You just smile at the girl and move over to the desks. 

Gojo looks at you with a shocked look. Not believing that you were leaving his side. 

“What are you doing?” He asks you. You look back at him, “well, you wanted me to meet your students. So I’m getting to know them.” 

You give him a little smirk and Gojo knows that type of smirk. The one where he’s going to regret his actions later. 

Maybe not now, but he knows that this decision will come to bite him.

[amirasainz]

What about reader is a team principal of a team and every driver and there girlfriend are obsessed with her?

Hahaha, omg this is so funny.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo

Obvious

The world of Formula 1 was unforgiving, relentless, and absolutely cutthroat. But there was one anomaly in the paddock that no one could quite figure out: Y/N, the 22-year-old team principal of McLaren. Her rapid rise to the top was a story everyone whispered about, but no one dared to challenge.

She was brilliant, tenacious, and had an air of authority that made her presence impossible to ignore. But what truly set her apart was the way she unknowingly had every driver—and their girlfriends—wrapped around her finger. They were utterly, hopelessly obsessed with her, and Y/N remained blissfully unaware, thinking it was just the normal way people treated their boss.

Exhibit 1: Dinner with George and Carmen

It was a rare off-day between races, and Y/N found herself in London at George’s request. The Mercedes driver had insisted on taking her out to dinner with his girlfriend Carmen joining them.

“I’m glad you agreed to come, Y/N,” George smiled as he pulled out a chair for her. “You’ve been working way too hard.”

Carmen leaned in, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “Yes, you need to relax sometimes. You’re always so busy.”

Y/N chuckled, feeling a bit flustered by their attention. “Thanks, guys, but it’s all part of the job, right? I mean, this season has been crazy.”

George leaned closer, casually placing his hand on the back of her chair, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. “You’re the youngest team principal in F1 history, Y/N. You’re allowed to take a break now and then. Let us take care of you tonight.”

Carmen nodded in agreement, her hand gently squeezing Y/N’s arm. “We wouldn’t want you burning out, would we?”

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth that she couldn’t quite place. “You guys are too sweet. I’m just trying to keep up, you know?”

The dinner passed with easy laughter and conversation, and Y/N was too busy enjoying herself to notice how both George and Carmen kept finding excuses to touch her—a hand on her arm here, a brush of fingers there. It was as if they couldn’t bear to be too far away from her.

---

Exhibit 2: A Mallorcan Escape with Carlos and Rebecca

The invitation had been impossible to refuse. Carlos had insisted on whisking Y/N away to Mallorca for a weekend of sun, relaxation, and good company. Rebecca was there too, constantly checking in to make sure Y/N was enjoying herself.

“This place is incredible,” Y/N said as she stepped out onto the balcony of their luxury villa, the Mediterranean Sea sparkling in the distance.

Carlos grinned, his hand resting comfortably on her lower back as he guided her to the sun lounger. “You deserve a break, Y/N. You’re always taking care of everyone else.”

Rebecca handed Y/N a cold drink, her smile warm and sincere. “Exactly. It’s our turn to look after you.”

Y/N blushed, sipping the drink as she looked out at the waves. “You guys are too nice. Honestly, I’m fine.”

Carlos laughed, sitting down beside her and casually resting his arm across the back of her chair, his fingers lightly grazing her shoulder. “Nice has nothing to do with it, Y/N. We just really enjoy spending time with you.”

Rebecca nodded, her hand resting on Y/N’s knee in a gesture that was both comforting and possessive. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Y/N just smiled, thinking how lucky she was to have friends like them, completely missing the way both Carlos and Rebecca watched her every move with an intensity that went far beyond simple friendship.

---

Exhibit 3: Shopping Spree with Pierre and Kika

Y/N had never been a big shopper, but when Pierre and Kika insisted on a shopping trip in Milan, she couldn’t say no. The day was a blur of designer stores, laughter, and playful teasing.

“You’d look amazing in this,” Kika said, holding up a sleek black dress against Y/N.

Pierre nodded in agreement, his hand resting comfortably on Y/N’s waist as he leaned in to inspect the dress. “Try it on. We’re not leaving until you do.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “You guys are relentless. I’m supposed to be the boss, remember?”

Pierre smirked, giving her a light nudge toward the dressing room. “Not today, Y/N. Today, you’re our princess.”

Kika giggled, grabbing Y/N’s hand and dragging her along. “Exactly. And our princess needs a new wardrobe.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as she tried on outfit after outfit, completely unaware of the way Pierre’s eyes lingered on her every time she emerged from the dressing room, or how Kika’s hand never left hers for long.

---

Exhibit 4: Movie Night with Max and Kelly

It was a cozy night in Monaco, and Max had convinced Y/N to come over for a low-key movie night. Kelly had made popcorn, and the three of them were snuggled up on the couch.

“You’ve been working too hard again,” Kelly said, her voice soft as she adjusted the blanket around Y/N’s shoulders. “You need to relax.”

Max nodded, his arm stretched along the back of the couch, his fingers gently playing with the ends of Y/N’s hair. “Yeah, you need to slow down sometimes. You’re making us all look bad.”

Y/N laughed, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “Oh, please. You guys are the ones driving the cars at insane speeds every weekend.”

Max grinned, his hand dropping to rest on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “And you’re the one making all the tough calls. That’s way more stressful.”

Kelly leaned in closer, her head resting lightly against Y/N’s. “We’re just glad you’re here. We love spending time with you.”

Y/N smiled, thinking how comforting it was to have Max and Kelly around. She missed the way Max’s thumb traced circles on her shoulder and the way Kelly’s fingers intertwined with hers under the blanket, as if they were afraid to let her go.

---

Exhibit 5: Yacht Day with Charles and Alexandra

When Charles invited Y/N out on his yacht, she thought it would be a casual day in the sun. But from the moment she stepped on board, she realized she was in for something far more luxurious.

“This is… wow,” Y/N breathed, taking in the sight of the pristine white yacht against the crystal blue waters of the French Riviera.

Charles smiled, his hand lingering on the small of her back as he guided her to a sunbed. “Only the best for our favorite team principal.”

Alexandra appeared with drinks, offering one to Y/N with a bright smile. “You deserve this, Y/N. You never take time for yourself.”

Y/N settled onto the sunbed, feeling the warmth of the sun and the company of her friends. “You guys are always spoiling me. I’m really not that special.”

Charles chuckled, leaning back beside her, his leg brushing against hers. “Oh, but you are, Y/N. You’re the heart of the paddock.”

Alexandra nodded in agreement, her hand resting comfortably on Y/N’s as they basked in the sun. “And we all adore you.”

Y/N blushed, not quite understanding why they were always so kind, but grateful all the same.

---

Exhibit 6: Golfing with Alex and Lily

Golf wasn’t Y/N’s sport, but when Alex and Lily insisted on a day out on the greens, she couldn’t say no. The trio laughed their way through the course, with Alex playfully showing Y/N how to swing properly, his hands guiding hers.

“You’ve got this, Y/N,” Alex said, his chest pressed against her back as he adjusted her stance. “Just focus.”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushed from the proximity. “You make it look so easy.”

Lily watched them with a knowing smile, resting her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’ll get the hang of it. You’re already a pro at everything else.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to concentrate as Alex’s touch sent an unexpected thrill through her. “You guys are way too nice to me.”

Alex and Lily exchanged a look, one that Y/N missed entirely as she tried to focus on her swing. They were both addicted to her presence, to the way she brightened every room she walked into.

---

As the season went on, Y/N continued to be the center of attention in ways she never quite understood. Every driver and their partners found excuses to spend time with her, to touch her, to keep her close. And though she often felt overwhelmed by their affection, she chalked it up to just having great friends in the paddock.

But to everyone else, it was clear: Y/N wasn’t just a team principal. She was the object of an unspoken obsession, the one person they all couldn’t bear to be without. And whether she realized it or not, they were all just a little bit in love with her.

[hoshifighting]

the sex ''ick's'' seventeen would give

WARNINGS: it's just for fun, and it doesn't match what the members do out there—so if you don't like, dont read.

seungcheol: his damn ass clapping louder than anything else in the room. like, the rhythm is giving standing ovation, and he’s completely unaware. if you dare mention it, he’ll pretend he didn’t hear.

jeonghan: he’d spend the whole day teasing you, promising he’s gonna ruin you later, only to nut in two minutes flat or tap out ‘cause his arms are tired “ugh, it’s so hot in here,” or “my legs are cramping.”

joshua: crying after nutting. he’s suddenly sniffling, you even got startled on the first time, his body getting REALLY sensitve.

junhui: he’ll mirror your moans, badly. you moan? he mimics it, but it sounds like a parody. like, he thinks he’s harmonizing, but it’s straight-up cringe. you try to ignore it, but he just keeps going.

hoshi: fucking u fully naked, except for his damn stoompas (those ugly-ass luxury brand chunky shoes). “they give me grip,” he’d say, like he’s at a crossfit competition, not blowing your back out. the sight of those big-ass sneakers ruins the vibe every time. (illustrative photos)

wonwoo: absolutely no facial expressions. man could be balls deep in you, and his face is blank, like he’s doing math in his head. but in fact, he's just daydreaming.

woozi: soundtrack enthusiast. he’d insist on playing a playlist he made just for you, but it’s all anime OSTs. like, nothing kills the vibe faster than hearing some intense battle music while he’s thrusting.

minghao: if you’re on top, he’d start giving unsolicited feedback. “tilt your hips a little more—yeah, like that. now, slower.” thinks he’s teaching a masterclass while you’re just trying to survive on his cock.

mingyu: checking himself out mid-thrust. fixing his hair in the mirror. if you call him out with a “are you fucking me or yourself?” he’d blush “n-no, I’m focusing on you!”

seokmin: laughs during the dirtiest parts, like a full belly laugh because he’s nervous or thinks something’s funny. he just goes, “HAHAHA—ah! sorry, I don’t know why I did that.” it’s cute tho...

seungkwan: every little thing is exaggerated—he’s gasping like he’s in a soap opera, grabbing his chest like he’s about to faint. you move slightly? “oh my god, I’m gonna DIE babe!”

vernon: won’t take off his adidas tracksuit. every damn time, it’s on—jacket unzipped, pants pushed down, and he’s acting like this is perfectly normal. while you're getting dizzy almost, from the adidas long lines, and from seeing this tracksuit for the zillionth time this month. [im feeling it too personally bc my dad uses tracksuit's often 😭]

chan: overexplaining everything he’s doing. like, “okay, so now I’m gonna flip you over, and then I’ll go deeper, and—”

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙one of the girls | DR3 ˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: daniel ricciardo x northern english!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: none just fluff, pretty short too

summary: in which your new boyfriend is adopted into your friendship group as if he was one of the girls

a/n: this is saur funnie to me & lbr it's me & my bffs only wish in life to go for pints with daniel & this request inspired me af

request!!!: hiiiii can i pls req daniel ricciardo x northern english!reader pleaseeeee kiss kiss kiss

my masterlist

fc: various brunette girls from pinterest

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff, and others

yourbff pints

friend1 pints

friend2 pints

danielricciardo pints?

yourusername YES PINTS

user1 PINTS!!!

user2 lol i love u y/n

user3 pints pints pints

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff, and others

yourusername self explanatory really

view all comments

user4 funniest wag tbh

user5 i wish i could go on a night out with them omg

user6 same omg my dream

maxverstappen1 i wasnt invited?

yourusername are you one of the girls, max?

maxverstappen1 im a man?

yourusername see there's ur first problem

user7 LOL he absolutely has no idea what she's on about whatsoever

user8 daniel dating a british girl is my fav thing ever

user9 literally especially a northern girl and not jus a rich girl from london 😭😭

user10 fr im obsessed with her she dgaf

user11 she is so jarring

user12 u jus dont get her tbh

danielricciardo woo hoo

yourusername lol i am obsessed with you.

user13 HAHAHA what? she's so me

yourbff BEER CIRCLE BEER CIRCLE

friend2 it's a heart ❤️!

danielricciardo beer heart. where have you been y/bff/n

yourbff sorry i was busy drinking the beer not analysing what shape it was in.

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourbff

liked by yourusername, friend1, and others

yourbff beach day with the girls!!! and daniel

view all comments

user21 and daniel omg HAHA

user22 he's actually one of the girls omg i thought it was a joke...

landonorris my invite got lost?

yourusername YOU DONT DESERVE ONE

landonorris oh.

yourbff hahahahaha

danielricciardo sorry lando 🤐

user23 y/n & her one sided beef w lando is all of us

liked by yourbff

user24 oh to be in this friend group

user25 not the weirdest f1 related friend group

yourusername love my girls!!! and my daniel

liked by yourbff, danielricciardo

friend2 hahahah we love him too! thts our girl

friend1 FR!!!!! one of us one of us

danielricciardo omg i've never felt so welcome in my life... #newhome

yourbff honorary brit 🇬🇧

yourusername 🥹🥹🥹

messages ->

instagram ->

danielricciardo posted a story

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff, and others

user26 the giiiirls

user27 you & the girls again!

maxverstappen1 miss you babe

danielricciardo 😂 see you in aus soon i hope

landonorris are any of them single 👀

danielricciardo not for you, no

landonorris boo 👎

user28 such a cute lil family

user29 cant tell if im more jealous of daniel, y/n, or her friends

yourusername posted a story

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, and others

user30 stop it

user31 #1 wag forever and ever

user32 THIS IS TOO CUTE FOR A RANDOM THURSDAY MORNING

maxverstappen1 😍😍😍

liked by yourusername

user33 FREE USSS

user34 jealous

yourbff pints pints pints tonight?

yourusername obviously

twitter ->

instagram ->

danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, and others

danielricciardo my home 🇦🇺 away from home 🇬🇧

view all comments

user40 no beers in the photo dump 😮

user41 let me guess ur on photographer duty

liked by danielricciardo

user42 the third pic ahhhh so cute

user43 oh to be ✨ them ✨

friend2 our fav aussie always!!!

danielricciardo im honoured truly

friend1 we never wanna leave

yourbff let's all live here woohoo

danielricciardo true. im down

yourusername YIPPPEEE

user44 ugh me when

landonorris i can make the next trip :)

danielricciardo oh where you going?

yourusername & who with? coz i know it isnt us

landonorris ...worth a try i guess

yourusername I LOVE YOU!!!

danielricciardo i love you my sweet girl

THE END 💙

[horchatakoo]

IN HIS MERCY | JUNGKOOK FF

description: who would have thought that you, the queen bee of the school, would be a crying mess beneath the very boy you bullied?

It’s not your fault he fucks you too good… right?

genre/themes: yandere jk x queen bee y/n, manipulation, blackmailing, big dick jk, dom jk, mean jk, smut cause grahhh, cumming inside

part 2

The midday sun beats down relentlessly on the back of the school building, where Jungkook sits on one of the chairs randomly piled in the corner. It’s already lunchtime, and most students are flocking to the cafeteria, making this quiet spot a rare solace for his clouded mind. A few birds chirp in one of the tall trees, and as he looks up, the sunlight grazes his golden-tanned skin.

The scene was beautiful and calming... but that peace was shattered when a group of ‘jerks’ barged in, disrupting his solace.

"Hey! Look who's here... the weird kid from the back of the class. Thought you could escape us today, huh?" Jaehyun, a student from the legal department and one of the so-called "cool" kids, sneered, making his friends burst into laughter.

Honestly, he doesn’t really know why Jaehyun and his minions enjoy picking on him… or maybe he does. He’s pretty sure it’s because Jaehyun couldn’t stand coming second in the student rankings—right after Jungkook, the quiet kid in the back who always looks half-dead in his hoodie. Jaehyun, who thinks so highly of himself, just couldn’t accept that a so-called lowlife nerd had beaten him at something.

Jungkook only sighed, thinking this whole act was pathetic as fuck. He didn’t bother to respond and was just about to leave when Jaehyun suddenly grabbed the collar of his gray hoodie.

“What now, huh? Can’t even respond to me?! Did you study so hard you forgot how to talk?”

"Look, man… I don’t want any trou—" Before he could even finish his sentence, a punch landed on his face. The blow was so sudden that he lost his balance. Jaehyun’s minions wasted no time, rushing in to kick him in the stomach.

He could have fought back, could have turned this into a full-blown fistfight—but he chose not to. Not because he couldn’t, but because his parents had already warned him that this would be the last time they’d put up with his bullshit… especially after what happened at his previous school.

Instead, he only crouched in pain, waiting for them to stop. In his mind, he knew he could have his revenge someday—but for now, he had to play along, had to keep up the act.

After a couple of minutes, Jaehyun’s minions finally stopped kicking him, leaving him lying there. Jungkook thought they were done, that they had left—until he felt something spill on him. A cold liquid seeped into his hoodie, followed by the sound of giggling.

Min Y/N.

The fucking Min Y/N had just dumped a chocolate drink on him while giggling in Jaehyun’s arms.

"That’s what you get for messing with the wrong people," she sneered.

Jungkook hated the bitch so much. She was always clinging to Jaehyun’s arm, giggling like she was innocent—typical spoiled rich brat behavior. A queen bee who thought everything would always go her way.

Too bad… she was literally Jungkook’s type if not for her bitchy attitude.

"Hahaha… let’s get going, babe," Jaehyun said to Y/N, pride evident in his voice over what his girl had just done.

At last, their stupid group was finally gone, leaving Jungkook alone. With a groan, he pushed himself up from the pavement, sighing as he glanced down at his now stained hoodie.

A tsk left his mouth. "That fucking bitch… this is literally Calvin Klein."

───●◎●───

Have you gotten their information?”

"Uhh… Yes, sir. But won’t your parents be mad?" Mr. Lee, the butler of the Jeon estate, asked hesitantly as he handed over the file Jungkook had requested.

"It’s not like they’re gonna find out. Unless… you’re planning to tell them?" Jungkook replied, his voice carrying a subtle threat as his sharp gaze locked onto Mr. Lee.

The poor butler swallowed hard, nerves creeping up his spine. He knew his master wasn’t right in the head—there was definitely something wrong with him. But there was nothing he, nor even Jungkook’s parents, could do. After all, he was the only son and heir of the Jeon family.

"Of course not, master. My loyalty stays with you."

"Maybe a few beatings would do? Or perhaps turning Jaehyun’s face into a bloody mess would be the right move. What do you think, Mr. Lee?" he asked with a bright smile, as if this was nothing more than a casual conversation—like he was simply ordering food online.

As expected, Jaehyun came from a well-off family. His so-called minions? Just commoners desperate to stay in his good graces.

And you?

Heck, you’re even poorer than some of Jaehyun’s minions!

A burst of laughter escaped Jungkook’s lips, uncontrollable and almost manic, as he processed his new discovery. His desire to beat Jaehyun to a pulp was momentarily forgotten—because now, his attention was on you.

The so-called queen bee.

The prettiest yet meanest of them all. Always draped in designer brands, always acting untouchable.

And yet… a complete FRAUD.

"So this is the queen bee, huh”

───●◎●───

A day had passed since Jungkook’s discovery, and from that moment on, he wasted no time crafting the perfect plan. A plan for revenge. A plan to make them pay.

But first… maybe he could use you.

After all, you were his type.

The thought alone sent a thrill through him—your pretty lips wrapped around cock, the same lips that had probably kissed Jaehyun.

His jaw clenched, arousal and satisfaction intertwining at the idea. Not only would he have you, but it would also be the perfect way to get under Jaehyun’s nerve. And It’s much better than just ruining his face.

Like every other day, you walk your usual route home, completely unaware that the devil himself is following your every step. The streets are quiet, the dim glow of the streetlights barely illuminating your path. You arrive at the small, rundown house tucked away across the street, pushing open the rusty gate that screeches louder than you’d like.

It has been a long, exhausting day, and all you want is to go inside and rest.

But then—

"Oh… look who I found here."

A chill runs down your spine at the familiar voice.

You turn, heart pounding, and there he is…

Your lips part, but only a breathy, stunned whisper escapes. "Ju-Jungkook…"

How? Why is he here?

You wanted to ask those questions, yet your body refuses to move, frozen under his unwavering gaze. His smug grin never falters, dark amusement glinting in his eyes.

It’s as if the wolf has finally cornered its prey.

"What are you doing here, Y/N-ah? Is this your house?" Jungkook's voice dripped with fake innocence, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

Your breath hitched. "Wha—Of course not!" You forced a smile, hoping to sell the lie. "I’m just… visiting a f-friend."

But the way he looked at you told you everything—you were already caught.

Jungkook let out a mock sigh, shaking his head. "Really? Every day? That’s funny." His smile faded, replaced by something darker. "You know, I hate liars, Y/N-ah. Especially lying bitches."

Before you could react, he reached into his pocket and tossed something at your feet.

Photographs.

Your stomach dropped. Each one captured you, stepping in and out of the very house you just tried to deny.

He knew.

And from the way his smirk widened, he was enjoying every second of your panic.

Before you even realized it, a tear had slipped down your cheek, followed by another… and another. Your knees hit the ground before you could stop yourself.

"Please… please don’t tell anyone!" Your voice trembled, your fingers clutching onto his legs as if he was your last hope. "I swear—I won’t bully you anymore! I’ll even tell Jaehyun to leave you alone. Just… please."

Jungkook crouched down to your level, tilting his head as he cupped your tear-streaked face between his hands. His touch was deceptively gentle, wiping away your tears with his thumb—yet the sinister curve of his lips only made you sob harder.

"Shhh, don’t cry, Y/N-ah," he cooed, his voice laced with amusement. "I’m not as bad as you think I am."

For a second, hope flickered inside you.

Then, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered—

"But you know… everything comes with a price."

You replied hurriedly, the words spilling out before you could even think—too desperate to escape this nightmare.

"What is it?! I promise I’ll do anything! Just please—"

Jungkook’s grin widened. He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with something dark and unreadable.

"Really, princess?" he mused, dragging the moment out as he traced his thumb across your trembling lips. "Then… be mine."

───●◎●───

Your thoughts were a tangled mess, looping around the same dilemma over and over again.

Be mine.

Be mine.

Be mine.

The words refused to leave your head, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

Jungkook’s ultimatum haunted you all weekend.

"I know this is hard for your small brain to process… so why don’t you give me your answer on Monday, yeah? If I don’t get an answer from you, then maybe I’ll just release these photos."

And now—it’s Monday.

Your head throbbed from the sleepless nights spent agonizing over what to do. The fear of your secret being exposed gnawed at you, but so did the thought of throwing away everything you had worked for.

"There’s no way I’d become a lowly student. I’ve worked too hard to build this image… this lie."

That alone was reason enough to say yes—to accept whatever Jungkook wanted if it meant keeping your perfect facade intact.

But another part of you resisted.

What does he even mean by "be mine"?

It was so vague, so unclear. Was he playing with you? Did he mean to humiliate you? Ruin you in a different way?

You swallowed hard, gripping the edges of your desk as the lecture droned on.

An hour later, your last subject was finally over. Jungkook had arranged everything for the two of you to meet again at the same spot—right in front of the rusty gate of your house. It was as if he wanted to remind you of who you truly were, and you hated it.

The walk home felt slow and agonizing, every step heavier than the last. You wished, even for a fleeting second, that a bus would just hit you—anything to give you a valid excuse not to face the devil waiting for you.

As you turned onto your street, your eyes immediately landed on him. He was standing there, patiently waiting, his gaze fixed on his sneakers. From a distance, he looked almost harmless—just another boy lost in thought.

But you knew better.

Because behind that unassuming façade was the devil himself.

Your steps felt heavier the closer you got, each one sealing your fate.

He must have heard your footsteps because his head snapped up, and that same smug grin curled on his lips.

"Ah, right on time," he mused, pushing himself off the gate as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, stopping just a few feet away from him.

"...What do you want?" you asked, trying to sound strong despite the way your voice slightly trembled.

Jungkook tilted his head, eyes twinkling in amusement. "I think you already know the answer to that, princess."

Silence stretched between you two.

You clenched your fists, knowing there was no way out of this.

With a shaky breath, you finally muttered the words that sealed your fate.

"...Fine. I’ll be yours."

Jungkook’s smirk deepened.

"Good girl."

───●◎●───

And from that moment, your life became a tangled dance—a twisted tango with him. By day, you maintained your queen bee status, the untouchable girl everyone admired or envied. But the moment the school day ended, you were nothing more than Jungkook’s plaything, bound to his every whim.

It started small—harmless, almost. A lingering touch here and there. Sneaking off during lunch breaks to empty classrooms in the old building, just because he wanted to. From fleeting pecks to deeper kisses, ones you didn’t even know how to respond to, but he taught you how.

You never got the chance to hangout with Jaehyun anymore because Jungkook is always there demanding your presence, so you have made creative excuses to deny Jaehyun, but you know to yourself those excuses won't last long. In one way, or another, he will get suspicious with your sudden avoidance.

"Strip."

"Wha—?" His command startled you.

You were in his house—if you could even call it that, given how massive it was. You never thought things would escalate like this. You assumed it would only be kissing, just like the past few days. But perhaps you should have known better.

"What? Why are you acting like it’s your first time?" Jungkook scoffed, tilting his head. "I know you’re Jaehyun’s bitch, so there’s no way you’ve never warmed his bed before." He leaned in slightly, his voice dripping with mockery. "Come on, show me just how good Jaehyun’s bitc—”

A hard slap landed on Jungkook’s cheek.

Perhaps it was the weight of your emotions—weeks of stress and frustration building up because of him. Your hands trembled, your chest heaving, and before you even realized it, a tear slipped down your cheek.

Yes, he was blackmailing you. But you never expected him to say something so cruel.

He was mean—viciously, unapologetically mean.

No one has ever been this mean to you

And you hated it.

Jungkook's head slightly turned from the impact, his cheek stinging from your slap. Slowly, he looked back at you, his usual smug expression faltering for the first time.

"I'm not—" your voice broke as more tears streamed down your face. You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms. "I'm not Jaehyun's bitch, or anyone else's. I’ve never been with him like that… or with anyone!"

Jungkook's eyes flickered with something unreadable, but you didn’t wait to find out what it was. Your vision blurred as you turned on your heel and bolted for the door.

"Y/N," he called after you, but you didn’t stop.

You ran.

Perhaps you were too caught up in the moment, too overwhelmed by emotions, to realize you were barefoot—until you had already dashed out of his house, the rough pavement scraping against your soles, a stark contrast to the cold, polished tiles you had just been standing on.

You stumbled slightly, the sting of the uneven ground jolting through your body. But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

Tears blurred your vision as you ran, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. As if the night couldn’t get any worse, the sky opened up, and heavy rain began to pour.

"Y/N!" Jungkook's voice cut through the downpour. "Let's talk!"

Your legs ached from all the running, leaving you with no choice but to stand there in the pouring rain, chest rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath. You were exhausted—physically, emotionally, everything in between.

Jungkook finally caught up to you, an umbrella in his hand, though it barely mattered now. Your clothes were already drenched, clinging to your shivering frame.

“Let’s get you inside, yeah?” he said, his voice softer this time.

You didn’t protest. Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was the sheer fatigue weighing you down, but you let him guide you back into his house.

The atmosphere had shifted. The tension from earlier still lingered, but now, it was laced with something else—guilt? Regret? You weren’t sure.

Once inside his bedroom, Jungkook handed you a towel and gently wiped away the rain from your face and arms, his touch surprisingly careful. Without a word, he grabbed one of his hoodies from the closet and held it out to you.

“Here,” he murmured, avoiding your gaze. “You’re gonna get sick.”

You slipped the hoodie over your head, the warmth of the fabric instantly comforting against your chilled skin. It smelled like him—clean, with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place. Not that it mattered. It was the best option you had.

Jungkook continued drying you off, his hands moving carefully, almost hesitant. You let him. Not because you forgave him, but because you were too drained to protest.

Neither of you spoke.

The silence between you was thick, heavy with unspoken words. He knew you were upset—he didn’t need to ask. And for once, he didn’t try to justify himself.

And just like that, the day ended.

───●◎●───

The next few days felt normal again. He no longer bothered you, and you were able to hang out with Jaehyun like before.

Yes, he was close to you.

Yes, he called you "babe."

But you had never done anything intimate with him.

You hadn't seen Jungkook at the university either. A slight curiosity lingered in your mind about where he might be—perhaps because, in some twisted way, you had grown accustomed to his presence.

Still, you were thankful he was gone.

Or so you thought…

───●◎●───

I was seething with rage as I watched her smiling and giggling with Jaehyun again—just like the first time.

But this time, the hatred wasn’t for her. It was for him. I know I was wrong for what I said to her that night.

At first, Y/N was just another piece in my game—a means to get my revenge.

But that night… something shifted. I saw her in a different light. She was raw and unmasked—nothing like the persona she wore at school.

I exhaled sharply, trying to push down the anger rising in my throat.

I told myself I’d leave her alone, that After that night I’d back off.

But now, watching her with him, I realized…

I didn’t want to back off.

Because she wasn’t his.

She’s mine all along to claim.

And I’ll make her realize just that.

───●◎●───

I was laughing with Jaehyun when my phone suddenly rang. An unknown number flashed on the screen.

I ignored it at first, assuming it was just a wrong number. But when it kept calling again and again, I finally answered.

"Hello?"

"Meet me at the old building. Same classroom as before. We still have a deal, you know? I hope you haven’t forgotten."

Just when I thought my nightmares were over, I was proven wrong.

I didn’t need to ask who it was. I knew that voice all too well. He sounded serious—angry, even.

The way he spoke, the sharpness in his tone—it wasn’t the same as before. There was no teasing lilt, no smug arrogance. He sounded different. Felt different.

I swallowed hard before forcing out a response.

"O-okay..."

"That’s my girl."

“Everything okay?” Jaehyun’s voice pulled me back to the present, his brows furrowing in concern.

I forced a smile, nodding quickly. “Yeah. Just some school stuff. I need to go for a bit.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“No” I blurted out a bit too fast

“I’ll see you later” is all I said before leaving.

Upon arriving at the empty classroom, I saw Jungkook already there, waiting for me—just like before.

His back was leaned against the teacher’s desk, arms crossed, eyes dark and unreadable as they settled on me.

I hesitated at the door, gripping my phone tightly. “What do you want?” My voice came out smaller than I intended.

Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk as he pushed off the desk and took slow, deliberate steps toward me. “Missed you,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth.

I frowned, my stomach twisting in unease. “Jungkook—”

Before I could finish, he was already standing in front of me, too close, his fingers brushing against my wrist. “Don’t act like you don’t miss me too,” he whispered, tilting his head as if studying me.

I shook my head, trying to step back, but he caught my chin between his fingers, forcing me to look at him. “I-I don’t—”

He chuckled, leaning in closer. “Liar.”

My breath hitched when he pressed his lips against mine—slow at first, as if testing the waters. My body tensed, my mind screaming at me to push him away.

But then he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding to my waist, pulling me flush against him. His warmth, his scent—it was all too familiar, too intoxicating.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against my lips. “No matter how much you try to run, you always end up here, don’t you?”

It’s like there’s magic to his words that intoxicates me. His hands were just so skilled that it sent shivers in my skin. Perhaps because I’ve never been touched this way by a man.

The kiss was intense, our tongues intertwined. I was close to being out of breath, but he deepened the kiss before letting go. A string of saliva connected us. I looked dazed, almost drunk, as I gazed at him, and the next thing I knew, I was already lying on the teacher’s desk—skirt rolled up, panties gone, blouse unbuttoned. I tried to cover myself out of shyness, which only made Jungkook chuckle.

“I-I’m…”

“Relax doll… I know you’re a virgin, now let me take care of that, yeah?”

Before I could even know it, one of his fingers started slowly entering me, as he laps his tongue on my clit. The intrusion was a bit painful, yet very pleasurable.

“Shit you taste so amazing doll”

My legs were trembling from the unfamiliar feeling, one finger followed by another, as he scissors my insides. It was so good that I became a moaning mess, as I unconsciously buckled my hip out of desperation.

“Ahhhh… J-jungkook, please!”

Jungkook only smirks at the sight of you, he loves the control he has. He loves the way you begged.

He continues to ram his fingers in you before deciding that you’re already ready to take his cock.

His lips brush against her ear as he whispers:

“I’m going to put it in now”

And just like that, he slides his big cock into your tight hole. It hurts, especially with how thick it is, that you started gripping hard on the collar of his uniform as a means to relieve the pain.

After being fully in, he set a slow pace for a while, before brutally ramming in your core.

“You’re so tight, doll. Only for me. Don’t worry, I’ll shape you so you’d only crave me. I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”

You’re already intoxicated with the pleasure you don’t even know how to proper respond

“Fuck… you’re taking me so well, princess. Just like that. I knew you’d be good for me.

Everything he says is just too much for you, it’s so perverted and degrading that you don’t want to meet his eyes, but he forces you anyway, refusing to let you look away, making sure you see everything that he’s doing to you. Making sure that you’d remember how we claims you

“You thought I didn’t see you, huh? Laughing and giggling with that Jaehyun, while I was away. Now Look at you—whimpering, begging, fucking crying on my cock. You’re mine, princess. Say it.”

You couldn’t respond properly fast enough, so Jungkook grips your jaw, making you open your mouth as he forces to hear those words from you.

“Say it”

Y/N gasps out the words. “I’m yours, jungkook! I’m yours.”

“That’s my good girl.”

Jungkook smirks, satisfied, before thrusting even deeper, if possible, before shooting all of his load inside her pussy.

“I’m gonna fill you up, princess. Gonna make you round and full so everyone knows who you belong to.”

Y/N also reached her high together with Jungkook, but he didn't pull out immediately. He waited till his hard length would soften, and by the time he pulled out, he watched as his cum mixed with yours, dripped down your pussy.

The scene was amusing for him.. you being all fucked out and full of his cum. It’s better than any porn he had watched. So of course, it is only rightful for him to save this moment by taking a picture of it.

Jungkook smiles at you, as he proceeds to fix your crumpled clothes, and puts back on your panties, making it immediately drenched with cum as it acts as a barrier to not let his cum flow out of you.

And you’re just there… too tired to move that you just let him do things for you.

“You're coming home with me now, princess. In our house" Jungkook said with a genuine smile plastered on his face, as if he did not just ruin you.

And in that moment, she realizes—she’s lost.

Completely.

Utterly.

In his mercy.

[jo-com]

₊˚🍰₊ ⊹ ➛ Voicemails

Lando Noriss x Ex!Fem!Reader

୨ৎ Summary: A series of voicemails Lando left in the quiet aftermath of your breakup —

୨ৎ Genre: Post- Breakup, Angst

୨ৎ Note: Been wanting to write again so here it is! Not proof read and there are some grammatical errors. Hope y’all enjoyyy

ARCHIVES ⭑.ᐟ

Voicemail 1: Hey baby…i uhm just wanted to check up on you. I know that we agreed on not calling or texting each other but fuck i miss you so much, I regret ever hurting you like that.. please call me back, love you always.

Voicemail 2: Sooo, i was buying these snacks for me and then I saw your favorite food and just.. it reminded me on how much you like eating them and out of habit I picked it up and bought it hahaha… Just wanted to share this, sorry for disturbing you.

Voicemail 3: I know i promised to stop doing this and just move on, you've just been on my mind lately... [sigh] why am i doing this to myself.

Voicemail 4: Hey… I drove past your street today. I wasn’t planning to, it just… happened. Funny how everything reminds me of you, even when I’m trying not to look. Anyway… I hope you're okay. That’s all.

Voicemail 5: It’s late. I couldn’t sleep again. I keep reaching for you in my dreams, and waking up to nothing. I know this is selfish — I’m sorry. I just needed to feel like you were still out there, even if you’re not mine anymore.

...

A long and deep breath left pass your lips— hearing his voice and the things that came out of it made your heart ache even more. The hurt and feeling of loneliness was still evident from the way you've isolated yourself from everything.

You wanted nothing more than be freed from this torment of hearts and just block him all together but at the same time you were holding onto something that you knew was never going to be the same again.

The tears you never even noticed was now sliding down your cheeks, "Fucking hell" you mumbled under your breath.

You quickly wiped it away— not letting yourself show any vulnerability or any kind of weakness.

...

Voicemail 6: I saw your favorite movie on TV tonight. I almost texted you to tell you, like I used to. It’s stupid, I know. You’re not waiting for my messages anymore… but I guess some part of me still is.

Voicemail 7: Do you ever miss me? Even for a second? I keep asking myself that, like the answer will change something. I don’t even know why I’m leaving this. I just— I miss who we were.

...

After hearing the last message he sent, every being in your whole body was screaming to just answer him, but like they say “The heart wants what it wants, but the mind knows what it needs.”

...

Voicemail 8: I saw this coffee place you would’ve loved — all moody lighting and weird art. I almost took a photo to send you. [chuckles] Old habits, I guess. Anyway, I didn’t. Just thought you’d find that funny. Or maybe you wouldn’t. I don’t know. Doesn’t matter.

Voicemail 9: Do you ever feel like you made the right choice, but it still hurts like hell? That’s where I’m at. We ended for a reason... I just wish reason didn’t feel so empty.

...

You've contemplated for a while now and decided to call him back. With shaky hand you went to your contacts and saw his number that was pinned at the top— you forgot you ever did that, it was a long time ago but i guess you just got used to it and forgot along the way.

Every cell of your body was now filled with adrenaline, heart beating so fast, hands shaking abruptly and your chest heaving like crazy, as if you were but to explode with this overwhelming feeling.

The long silence filled your empty room, it was defining to say the least.

With a deep sigh, you finally gathered all your strength and pressed the call button. Your legs bouncing of the ground as you waited for him to pick up.

"Y/n?" he spoke— answering on the first ring.

You hesitated on speaking and was just focused on his voice that was calling out to you. You can practically hear the excitement and confusion on his tone.

You let out a lengthy cough that hid your shaking voice and finally answered him. "Hey..uhm I just called to say that you should stop with the voice messages."

Everything became silent for awhile, it was eating you up to say those words but you two needed to stop torturing one another and just move on.

Lando sighed deeply, "oh okay sorry to bother" and hanged up.

It left you broken— hearing his voice crack from your words. You never wanted this but was for the best.

Or so you thought.

You spent your whole day reliving the conversation, it just bugged you that it crushed him. You’ve decided to just go with the flow and fuck whatever your mind says— your heart clearly belonged with his so what the hell.

...

NOTIFICATION

1 Unheard Voice Message from My girl💞

"Hey Lan… I don’t even know if you’ll listen to this. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. But I need to say this. I know we ended things, and maybe we both thought we were doing the right thing at the time. But looking back, it feels like we got caught up in something we didn’t fully understand. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t care. That was never the case. I’ve heard every voicemail you left. Every word. I couldn’t help it. I just needed to hear you, even if it was through all that distance between us. I miss you, Lando. I miss what we had. I don’t want this misunderstanding to be the end of us. If you’re willing, I want to try again. I want to fix this. I just need you to know that. Call me back, Okay?"