#but god I hope people who are good at that part imprint on these two and especially Felix as much as I have because WOW I need it

[fckedupnerd]

This mf was the hottest Mat has ever been and nobody can convince me otherwise. Fickelgruber the one true love of my LIFE. 💚💚💚💚

[kitten4sannie]

ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

pairing: dilf! san x boytoy! wooyoung x fem! reader

genre: smut <3

summary: you search for a rebound at your local club after a break up. the club owner and his favorite boyfriend are there to satisfy your needs.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: daddy dom kinda switch! san (almost chewed my fingers off writing him like this trust), dom! wooyoung (he’s kinda passively there when it comes to reader but i promise he’ll be more prominent in part two~), subby good girl! reader, woosan, alcohol use, reader is not drunk but sufficiently tipsy, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names (angel, princess, pretty girl, etc), teasing, possessiveness, praise, voyeurism/exhibitionism, body worship, grinding, kissing, marking, fingering, double? blowjob? idk (san gets head while giving it too oop-) , deep-throating, slight hair pulling, snowballing

a/n: hii guess who’s back from the dead just in time for the cb? <3 and i brought a present ~ a naughty one hehe :3 the inspo came from those pics above bc they look so expensive and cunty and so yummy ugh and THEN san decided to strip at the mama awards and now i’m ILL and ready to howl at the moon anyways !!this is out of pocket like usual and i put my whole kitty into it okayyy so i hope you enjoy and pls lemme know if you’re excited for part two >< <33

song rec: incubator by ph-1, gun by doja cat, wine pon you also by doja cat feat. konshens (every time i hear the last part it reminds me of san’s dance cover hnnnnhgg)

“Girl, you better slow down on that drink,” the woman sitting beside you at the bar warned, resting her forearms down on the cool surface of the sleek marble countertop, continuing to watch you slurp down a long island iced tea. “I’m not about to hold your hair up for you later.”

“Can you leave me alone? I’m grieving over here, god,” you whined to her with your straw still in between your pouting, quivering lips, your eyes brimming with tears. “And for the record, he broke up with me over text. Text.”

She shook her head. “You are not about to cry over a man right now.”

You pushed your empty glass away, before dramatically pointing a finger into your chest, causing the strap of your dress to droop down your shoulder a bit. “You’re right, but I can still be a mess if I want to, thank you very much.”

“Well, you’re certainly achieving that,” she stated, idly sipping on her own drink, looking you up and down until you felt like you had to prove something to her.

“Okay, fuck this,” you muttered, pushing yourself off of the barstool and pulling your dress down where it was beginning to rise up near your ass, sniffling a bit.

“Where are you going?”

Pulling out a small tube from the v-neck of your dress to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, you smacked your lips together and motioned your hand to the vast amounts of sweaty, drunk people grinding on each other on the opposite side of the club. “I’m gonna get some rebound dick. Don’t wait up.”

The woman smiled to herself as she watched you disappear into the sea of people, still just sipping on her drink. Little did you know, someone else was already waiting for you in that crowd. And they came as a package deal.

-

“I want her, Sannie,” Wooyoung chimed to the older man that was sitting beside him on the comfy VIP couch, the man’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist. The younger man took a finger off of his fruity drink to point at the woman that was feeling herself up with her body pressed to an unnamed man on the dance floor across from them, charmed by the unbothered, almost melancholic expression imprinted on her flushed face, like she was just waiting for someone like them to take care of her, to make her pretty face flush for a different reason.

San followed Wooyoung’s manicured nail until it led to the sight of you, a few wrinkles etched into his skin near his lips and where his eyes creased with amusement. “Mmm. Shall I leave you to your own devices then? Daddy can watch you seduce that pretty girl from here, can’t he?” His smile deepened when Wooyoung shifted beside him, his thigh pressing into San’s larger one, knowing his plaything was already getting hot under the collar. San held Wooyoung’s chin between his ringed fingers, leaning in to murmur, “And you’ll be a good boy and bring her to me once you get her nice and wet, won’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Wooyoung replied breathily, barely getting his words out when the man pulled him in for a heated kiss.

Just when Wooyoung began to lean into him, his hands resting on San’s leather-bound chest, the older man broke the kiss, wiping the other’s saliva from his mouth. “Get going, naughty boy.”

Despite being dizzy with need, Wooyoung nodded, obediently nodding as he stood up from the couch. He fixed his hair and checked his makeup, before heading into the sea of sweaty, lust-drunk people to find you.

You were almost too busy rolling your body along to the hypnotic flow of the house track that was bumping through the speakers around you to notice the warmth of someone else pulling you near him, his hand sliding onto the small of your back and his lips against your ear, goosebumps forming across your skin.

“Can I steal you away?” Wooyoung whispered in a low voice, smiling at your slow nod, your eyes practically dilating at the sight of him. You didn’t know angels frequented night clubs. That was news to you. The both of you silently watched as his veiny hands slowly slid onto your hips, his fingers squeezing into them just enough to make you shiver.

He brought you back against him with a gentleness that made you a little weak in the knees, moving his hips against yours, guiding you against his body to the pulsing beats of the song.

Desperate to be needed by the obscenely attractive stranger, you took it upon yourself to grind back against him, feeling his cock harden against your ass through his satin pants.

“Fuck, baby, don’t you know what’ll happen if you keep doing that?” he exhaled into your ear, his fingers moving down slightly to squeeze your thighs.

You turned your head back to meet his searing gaze, licking your lips, your eyelids lowering. “What’s going to happen?”

Glancing to the side to make sure San was still watching, which he was, with a hand clutching his upper thigh, Wooyoung looked back to you, his hands moving further outwards to feel the sides of your ass, encouraging your dress to move up little by little, replying, “We’ll have to play with you, angel.”

“Yes, please,” you breathed out, resting your head against his chest, allowing him to feel up your body, his hands groping along your abdomen to your tits, the cogs inside your head moving at a slower rate than usual. “Wait…did you just say…we’ll?” Just as you spoke, Wooyoung reached around to grasp your chin and guide it to the side, allowing you to spot the fiery-headed gentleman manspreading on the VIP couch across from you, his heated gaze alone making you throb. “Isn’t…that the guy who owns this place?”

“Mm, he owns a lot of things. You see, darling, even though I want you all to myself–” Wooyoung squeezed his hands around your barely clothed tits through your dress, making you moan. “San doesn’t like it when I don’t share with him.” His hands slowly moved down your front to your clothed cunt, feeling your wetness coat his fingers when he rubbed them against your clothed slit. All you could focus on was the way San shifted around on the couch, his hands gripping his thighs like his body was aching to be free from his tight ensemble, Wooyoung’s upcoming offer barely getting processed in your hazy brain. “Do you wanna meet him?”

One single nod was all it took for Wooyoung to take your hand with a knowing smile on his pretty face, like he could already tell what was about to go down that night, before guiding you past the crowd, the bouncers, and directly up to San, who was eagerly waiting your arrival.

As soon as you stepped foot into the exclusive lounge, the visual of the older man had your already weak knees ready to buckle underneath you now that you could see him up close. He was dressed head to toe in sleek, expensive leather. The top only had two buttons to support his front, his broad chest on full display for you to drool over. Your eyes eventually followed upwards until you got to his obscenely handsome face, his sharp, feline-like features bathed in the club’s sinful red lighting. Then, of course, the nail in the coffin was the dimpled smile he offered you, one that was so inviting that you didn’t realize you were being drawn to him like a moth to a burning flame.

“That’s right, go ahead and get nice and comfortable on my lap, sweetheart,” his words, sweet like honey, melted off his tongue in a low drawl, his limbs wrapping around you as soon as you sat down on his lap, resting one hand comfortably on your thigh, his other reaching up to play with your hair. “What brought you here tonight? To my pretty boy? To me?”

You gently hooked an arm around his neck to keep yourself upright, gazing at Wooyoung who sat beside you both on the couch, his fingers rubbing gentle circles around one of your ankles, before turning your head to look at the older man, trying to keep bad memories from flooding your brain.

San gently twirled your hair around his finger, urging in a deep, comforting voice, “Let it out. Don’t be afraid, princess.”

Your brain offered you a pleasant fuzziness instead. “I…had a bad breakup…I just really wanted to come here, get my back blown out, and forget about it all, you know?”

Wooyoung stifled a cackle, while San’s lower lip jutted out in a pout, his hand splaying across your upper thigh, slowly rubbing it up and down. “Poor angel. I bet he never made you feel needed, huh?” You mirrored his pout, shaking your head. “I can make you feel needed, baby. Do you want that?” A nod this time, your breath caught in your throat. San leaned in, pressing his lips to your warm cheek, murmuring, “Then, let Daddy take care of you, alright?”

And just like that, there were no rules anymore. No regulations. No holding back. Just you, two strangers, and a club full of people that couldn’t care less about what you were doing. San still held you in his lap, your trembling legs just barely spread open enough to allow his hand in between them, rubbing his thick digits against your cunt through your soaked panties, while Wooyoung had a front row seat. “Is it good for you, baby? Or do you want more?”

“More,” you exhaled, about to say something when San squeezed your clit roughly, making you gasp.

“More, what, princess?” San leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering against them, “What’s my name?”

“More, Daddy,” you corrected yourself, just as San’s ringed fingers moved past your panties and slipped right inside you up to the knuckle, filling you up just enough to make your brain go fuzzy.

Wooyoung moaned just when you did, biting his lip at the sight of San’s veins popping out when he began to pump his fingers in and out of your squelching hole. “Fuck, that’s so hot…she’s so wet, Daddy…”

“She is, isn’t she?” San agreed, curling his fingers inside you until he hit the spot that made you drool, his lips suddenly latching onto your neck to leave his mark behind on your skin so you could remember exactly what you did when you woke up the next morning. “Look at you, taking my fingers in your tight little cunt like this. Such a good girl.”

“Uh-huh,” you could barely verbalize, whining at his words, clenching around his digits. You could barely focus on anything else except for the older man’s thick fingers stretching you out, his rings offering you a pleasure you didn’t realize you needed in your life, though Wooyoung’s warm hands on your thighs and gentle smile kept you from getting too lost in the moment.

However, San was in the same boat as you, his trapped, throbbing cock already leaking so much pre-cum that he was about to lose it, encouraging him to suggest, “Mm, but you need Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” He watched you give him a weak nod, knowing you were on the edge of orgasming from the way your body began to lock up. “I should just fuck you dumb right here for everyone to see. Have you make a big mess on this couch. It’s my club, after all. Why shouldn’t I do what I want?” He sped up the pace, practically pounding his fingers into your cunt, your arousal leaking down your shaking thighs, continuing to dispel filthy words for only you and his boytoy to hear. “Fuck, they’ll enjoy seeing a pretty thing like you fall apart on my lap, won’t they? See this cunt of yours stretch around my cock and take my cum inside. Mmm. See the way I make you mine.”

Everything was too much. The crowded room. The possibility of someone’s eyes on you. San’s filthy words. His fingers jammed inside your soaked cunt. Wooyoung’s unwavering gaze, his hands squeezing into your thighs. The unrelenting pleasure coursing through your body. You ended up cumming so hard, you saw stars, not even realizing San was silencing your pleasured cries until you felt his lips on yours and his tongue push into your open mouth. Just as San pulled away, Wooyoung took his place, tasting the alcohol on your tongue, before gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Should we go to your office now, Sannie?” Wooyoung asked the older man, his hooded eyes flitting between San’s and yours, neither of you even having to speak another word before you all got up from the couch.

-

“Whoa,” you murmured to yourself, looking around the expansive room, the interior matching the rest of the sleek club. Aside from the small computer desk setup in the corner, there was a large bed with satin sheets that took up a good portion of the room, but most of your attention was on the mirrors that were perfectly positioned on either side of the bed, as well as the ceiling. “Mirrors?”

“Sannie likes to watch himself,” Wooyoung giggled, rubbing the small of your back in comforting circles, leading you to the bed alongside San who sat down on the edge of it, looking up to you and Wooyoung who stood behind you, running his hands along your sides up to your shoulders, before taking hold of the zipper of your dress.

“I like to watch pretty angels like you come undone too. Watch the lust take over you until you’re covered in sweat and cum,” San mused, gazing into your eyes until Wooyoung slowly pulled the straps of your dress down, the both of them watching it fall from your body. Groaning, San began to mirror Wooyoung’s actions, unbuttoning his blazer, then pulling it off and revealing an expanse of smooth tan skin, the muscles in his arms flexing as he began to unbuckle his pants. Once San’s pants hit the floor and his thick, veiny cock sprung up, you found yourself sinking down to your knees, your mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum dribbling down the man’s reddened cockhead. “What do you want, princess? Tell me.”

“Your cock,” you requested immediately, settling your hands on his strong thighs. “In my mouth, please.”

“Ahh…?” San tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows raising up slightly.

“Daddy,” you replied swiftly, leaning in to rub your cheek against his hot, throbbing length, pouting, licking at the pre-cum that dripped onto your face. “Please.”

“Good girl. So dirty for me. Aren’t I a lucky man?” San let out a satisfied sigh, reaching down to wrap a good amount of your hair around his fist, holding it in a ponytail so that he could see your face, before sliding his cock into the hot, slick haven that was your mouth and throat. “That’s it, suck it nice and hard, princess. Show me how much you like having Daddy’s cock in your mouth.”

You reciprocated, throating his cock the best you could, choking and gagging occasionally, digging your fingers into his thighs.

“Mmm, there you go. You’re so good for me, angel. Don’t stop, okay?” San praised, closing his eyes, gripping your hair, slowly thrusting himself into your open mouth, delighted by the lewd sounds of your moans and the squelching sounds coming from your throat. Once he felt Wooyoung’s fingers slide into his hair and grip it, San looked up, watching Wooyoung lift one leg up onto the edge of the bed, the younger man’s eyes full of hunger.

Finally getting your throat to relax completely, you simply continued to take San’s cock in your throat, having to blink the remaining tears away to see San clearly — though nothing could prepare you for the sight of Wooyoung guiding San’s head downwards, his twitching cock disappearing inside San’s willing mouth.

“Fuck, it feels so hot,” Wooyoung panted, a bit of drool leaving his plump lips, thrusting deeper until he entered San’s throat, the older man’s groans vibrating onto Wooyoung’s balls each time they touched his chin. “Daddy acts so big and bad all the time, but he just loves getting cock rammed down his throat, huh?”

Wooyoung knew him so well. That’s why he was his favorite, well, aside from the angel that was taking him to heaven with only her mouth. San reached up with his free hand to massage Wooyoung’s balls, guiding his mouth along the younger man’s cock himself, sucking him off like he was made for it, like he always did.

Letting go of San’s hair to touch his own body, shuddering at all the pleasure at his disposal, Wooyoung gazed down at you, watching you obediently take San’s cock, the man’s hand still wrapped up in your hair and tugging at it. “Look at you go. You look so pretty when your mouth’s stuffed with cock, angel. You’re gonna make my Daddy cum so hard for you, huh?”

Squeezing your thighs together around your hand that was playing with your dripping cunt, you nodded your head, swearing you were about to cum just from what was happening around you, knowing San was in a similar place from the way he started to involuntarily buck his hips up into your mouth.

“Don’t swallow and save some for me, baby, okay? Don’t be stingy,” Wooyoung reminded you in a strained, breathy voice, almost falling over from the way San gripped one side of his hips, a string of obscenities falling from his lips when the man forcefully drove his throbbing cock into his hot throat, about to see god herself when San’s throat began constricting around his length like a pussy would. “Fuck, gonna cum, Sannie.”

San pulled back, a few thick strings of saliva connecting his swollen lips to Wooyoung’s dripping tip, his hand closing around the base to jerk him off. “Cum on Sannie’s face, will you? Make a big fucking mess for me.”

Wooyoung whined and panted, San’s slick hand moving quickly along his length, trying not to choke on his spit and moans, barely able to stay upright, but thankfully San had a good grip on his hips.

San looked down at you, licking the saliva from his lips, pulling out just enough so that his thick cockhead rested on your tongue. “Are you going to take this load? Hmm? Want it?”

“Yes, fuck, Daddy, please give it to me,” you begged, panting heavily, your fingers about to slip out of you from how fast you were moving them.

“Oh god, here it comes, angel,” San groaned out, squeezing around the base of Wooyoung’s cock, making him let out a broken, high-pitched whine.

Your combined pleasure came rocketing up to an intense peak, sending the three of you into a mindnumbing state of ecstasy. Thick, hot spurts of liquid came raining down on San’s face, just as his load shot out onto your tongue and down your throat, your own release soaking into the velvet carpet underneath you.

Fading out of reality during the majority of your high, your ears ringing, it took you a minute to realize that someone’s mouth was on yours, their fingers cupping your face. Opening your glossy eyes, you watched in a daze as Wooyoung took his sweet time slurping San’s cum off of your tongue.

San gripped Wooyoung’s hair and brought his head back, parting his lips and allowing Wooyoung to shovel his own cum into his mouth, swallowing it down with a low, pleased groan.

Pleased with the sin that was taking place in front of you, you took it upon yourself to drag your tongue across San’s chiseled jaw to his cheek, collecting some of Wooyoung’s release into your mouth, only to press your lips to his, letting him taste himself. Wooyoung moaned into your mouth, deepening the kiss, until San pulled you away from each other.

“Haven’t had enough, you two?” San chuckled, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

“No~ Not after that,” you giggled, rubbing your cheek against San’s palm when he caressed it.

Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you, looking at San with a sweet smile, his long eyelashes fluttering. “Can we keep her, Daddy? I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

Little wrinkles formed near San’s eyes once he smiled at you. “I suppose so.”

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© kitten4sannie, 2023.

[dev1lm4n]

all glory

masterlist | kofi (support me here!)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel has been feeling insecure, finding it hard to come to terms that he's indeed aging. tommy suggests a clever solution: a post-apocalyptic glory hole

word count: 4.8k of pure filth

warnings: minors dni (18+), post-outbreak, joel is 56 here hehe hot old men, insecurities, glory hole, fingering, unsafe piv, slight breeding kink, no pregnancy stuff tho cuz im terrified of that, reader calls him sir, pet name (darling)

note: i decided to create a kofi bcs im a broke college student lol. anyways hope yall enjoy this, do COMMENT and REBLOG if you enjoyed this :)

Joel Miller had always been a man of confidence.

Being left as a single father for Sarah at an early age, he’s been through thick and thin, trying his best to make ends meet so that they wouldn’t have to end up in one of those run-down shelters. But never once did he question his ability to attract women. 

He’s always had it in him. With a mere glance from his expressive eyes, he can ensnare hearts and leave an everlasting impression on anyone fortunate enough to encounter him. Rugged masculinity and striking refinement; a deathly mix that kept girls swarming after him like bees. After the world descended into chaos, he’s not much different either. Perhaps the bone-deep trauma had left him looking eternally exhausted with sunken eyebags, or that gray filaments started becoming a welcomed addition to his beard, but all in all he’s still charming.

He didn’t have to seek, because people seek for him. Joel had plenty of erotic rendezvous in times where society crumbled and the rule of law eroded, more so now that everyday could be his last and he didn’t have the privilege to take it slow like a true Southern gentleman. He’s done it everywhere. Inside a stuffy closet while hiding from a clicking monstrosity, behind a thin wall while her husband sat cluelessly on the other side, and even taking sexual compensation for his little business. Joel Miller wasn’t a saint. Neither he one for God and he’d like to make it obvious.

Nowadays though, within the tall foreboding walls of Jackson City, that type of attention has faded away. He’s no longer getting those longing stares from across the floor, no longer being begged to corrupt just for some extra wad of cards, no longer being flirted and fawned over like a goddamn stud. Joel didn’t have any problem with it at first. He’s growing old. Instead of those naughty strands of white peeking out of his head, he’s now a complete mix of salt and pepper. Instead of just having a fun smile line, forehead rolls and crows’ feet are now imprinted deep into every crevice. Joel wasn’t the man he used to be. 

He’s weathered away, he thought, unsuited for fun and adventure.

Perhaps it had something to do with his daughter as well. Even when Ellie’s not from his actual blood, everyone in town viewed her that way. He’s her father. Thus, everyone seemed to perceive and treat him as merely a father and not as an actual person that has his own needs and wants. Joel loved his daughter. Terribly so in ways he couldn’t decipher. A part of him has made up his mind that this would be how he should spend the rest of his life: in celibacy. Though the retirement of his sexual and romantic life has slowly taken a toll towards his self-esteem. Tommy, who’s always known to be rather slow and imperceptive, was surprisingly the first one to take notice of his gradual change.

“Maria told me you might be here.”

Tommy’s gruff voice brought him out of his trance. Joel looked up, meeting the familiar figure crouch to get into his little workshop. It was his newfound hobby these days, becoming a hermit and isolating himself from the community. He’d craft a wooden figure or two each night while he relived each and every one of his memories. Good and bad. Of death and of birth. Then by the end of the night he’d feel mildly satisfied with a wooden sculpture shaped like memorabilia from the old world. Joel couldn’t admit it outloud, but insecurity had taken over him. It festered deep into his soul that he couldn’t even bear looking at himself in the mirror anymore or present himself to society.

“Yeah, just..” he paused to ponder on a better way to answer. “Just doin’ my own thing.”

“You skippin’ dinner again?” Tommy’s curiosity sounded oddly suspicious, enough that Joel already knew he’s about to say something obnoxious or entirely uncalled for. The older quirked his thick eyebrows in return.

“Made myself my own plate,” Joel cocked his head towards where a lone plate sat. Judging from the crimson stain smeared on top, it must’ve been one of those canned pastas that he picked out.

“Brother..” Tommy started out, visibly nervous of how his brother would take it. “Is there something wrong?”

“With me?”

“Yeah, with you.”

“No, not that I could think of,” Joel hummed. “I ain’t bitten or anythin’, why are ya asking such a dumb question anyway?”

“You’re just different these days,” Tommy reasoned with a small frown. “You barely come out of your house and if you do, you’re huddled up in this place, carving things for hours on end.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong with wanting to be alone. Is there?” he challenged.

“No, but you’re.. different. Almost like your mind’s troubled for once.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong, Tommy,” he insisted.

Joel was actively avoiding the accusations. He stood up from where he’s been perched upon for hours on end, bringing his half-carved wooden slab with him to set it on one of the displays he had. He’s grown quite the collection. It’s been going on far longer than he’d expected, the crippling fear of being undesirable and hideous, and it brought up an immense feeling of embarrassment. He couldn’t possibly admit such things to Tommy, could he? Tommy was different from him. His first child was on its way to be birthed, but girls still chatter about his charming smile and strong figure. They’d still gossip and make dirty guesses about his size. How long he endured such activities, the position he enjoyed best, and how sweet he was to his partner.

Tommy couldn’t possibly understand his fear.

“You can’t help me even if I told ya,” he grumbled.

“Put some trust in me, will ya?” Tommy chuckled as he spun around his seat to follow Joel’s every move. “Tell me what’s troublin’ you, big brother.”

“They don’t look at me the same way.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“The ladies,” Joel muttered.

His words were barely above a whisper. It almost seemed as if he saw the phenomenon as something humiliating, up to the point where he couldn’t even look Tommy in the eye in fear of having him laugh. He’s never talked about this with anyone else. It didn’t help that he truly didn’t have anyone to talk to in general aside from the few acquaintances his brother introduced him to and well.. Ellie. But none of them seem to be the right person to talk to regarding this. 

Regarding his failure in masculinity. His unspoken worries that he didn’t have any of the strong, chiseled jawline or any of the tightly packed abdomen with six separate squares to admire. He’s grown old and weak. Five years ago, he could’ve probably still sweet-talk his way into a woman's heart, but now he couldn’t even look one in the eye without the fear of being put to shame.

“They still do, Joel,” Tommy assured him. He’s telling the truth. Joel knew that Tommy didn’t have it in him to lie, he’d have sounded like a strangled bird or a squeaky dog’s toy if he did. But his mind couldn’t believe it one bit.

“I don’t know, Tommy..” he muttered. “They don’t look at me the same way. They don’t look at me at all even.. and I’m fine with that I 'spose. I ain’t a whorin’ bastard who couldn’t accept that he’s agin’..”

“But they do, Joel.”

“I’m old,” he sucked in the air. “Lately there are these moments where I.. where I’d look a girl in the eye and all I could feel was humiliation.”

“Humiliation?”

“Like they’re lookin’ at me as if I’m some.. some sort of repulsive creature,” he whispered. “I feel like I could hear ‘em gigglin’ with their girlfriends on how shameless I am.”

Tommy was deduced into silence. Time ticked by as he cranked up his brain to figure out the best way to aid his older brother out of his misery. It’s all in his head, Tommy knew that Joel knew that as well, but it’s easier patching up an oozing wound than a troubled mind. He brought his hand together on top of his jeans as he waited for the younger to make another comment, whether of comfort or of a harsh reality.

“I’ll offer you a solution,” Tommy spoke up. “But you gotta promise not to lose your head over it.”

“It ain’t drugs, is it?”

“No, no..” Tommy chuckled humorlessly.

“I’m open to anythin’” Joel dropped his arms to his side as he curiously eyed Tommy.

“Have you ever heard of a glory hole?”

Joel’s expression contorted in such a way that the younger Miller couldn’t possibly read what he’s thinking any longer.

“I ain’t goin’ outside those borders just to go to some sketchy brothel, Tommy. That’d be pathetic.”

“Well, the thing is this whole operation ain’t sketchy,” Tommy reasoned. “The girls were tested and approved by the local doctor before..”

“Local doctor? You tellin’ me this is happenin’ within Jackson?”

“I operate it, Joel,” he sighed, knowing he’s about to be bombarded with a handful of questions. “And before you ask, no this ain’t considered prostitution as there’s no material exchange.”

“You mean..”

“Yes. The girls do it for free. Volunteers. They do it for their own pleasure and I help make their dreams come true.”

Joel looked at his own brother as if he was a mad man. Who wouldn’t? When he’s just told him that they had an actual glory hole installed without most of the public knowing. Or perhaps they knew, they were just not talking about it in front of Joel.

“Ten to twelve. There’s a small house across the sheep field. One girl every Friday night.”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy. Maria knows about this?”

Tommy shifted uncomfortably on the stool.

“No, but it’s better off she doesn’t.”

Joel felt his morals set askew for a second. This sounded like a terrible idea, despite the fact that he’s confirmed it himself that it’d be the safest a glory hole could possibly be. He scratched his beard and took it into deep consideration.

In the quiet stillness of a winter’s night, the world was wrapped in a soft, white blanket of snow. The moon hung low in the dark sky - a beacon towards those who chose to travel in the deepest hours of nighttime. Joel blew puffs of warm air onto his gloved fingertips, hoping it’d satiate the coolness that made his joints ache and his skin itch. The air was crisp and biting, each breath producing a frosty cloud which quickly amalgamated into the air. He watched as gentle snowflakes, alike to elegant ballet dancers, fell from the heavens up above and twirled and swirled into an intricate pattern. He’s been waiting for way too long.

“So what are ya sayin’? Are you gonna let me take you tomorrow night?” Tommy broke the silence.

Tommy promised to meet him on the edge of the sheep field, where they’d herd livestocks all throughout the warmer times of the year, but he’s yet to see his tall nose and dark hair from any of the cardinal directions. He’s been waiting for too long to keep the same mindset Tommy’s trained him into, that this was simply a beneficial exchange for every party involved and that he shouldn’t feel shameful for something so instinctive. Waiting gave him time to weigh out the cons, how this was naturally an act of debauchery that wounded both his moral values and beliefs. He ain’t a God preacher, but he’s sure to keep some of those Southern manners.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

None of Tommy’s ideas are ever well thought out. Starting from his sudden gravitation towards the military, to his desires to hand over his entire life towards the Fireflies, and now this. He knew his younger brother wasn’t the brightest of men, but creating an entire glory hole to keep the town’s morale up might be the stupidest one he’s heard yet. Especially when Maria’s not aware of it. He feared for the day when the beans spilled out of its jar, but tonight wasn’t that day. During the time in which he contemplated his decisions, Joel didn’t notice the crunching of snow against thick boots. Tommy was here and he looked far too calm for a self-made procucer.

Tommy beckoned him to follow the path his boots had made. Joel sucked in some of that painfully cold air into his lungs, before he stuffed his hands in his pockets and started trailing along. There were a few street lamps across the field, a ruddy glow emanating from them as they were adorned with a light dusting of snow. He kept his guards up while he scanned through the whistling field of crop, that traumatized part of him always keeping in check of abrupt movements and unsettling sceneries. After a quiet walk for a good three minutes, they finally arrived. The house fronts looked dark enough, and the windows even darker, contrasting with the smooth white sheet of snow upon the roofs.

There was snow piling up outside as well, dirtier ones whose last deposit had been plowed up in deep furrows by the heavy wheels of carts and wagons. He scrutinized over the tracks, wondering if this was meant to be used as a makeshift grain tower. If it was, then Tommy must’ve been a great scheming asshole to turn such a place into his own little heaven. Not one soul was around, which confused Joel even more. Wasn’t this supposed to be a public glory hole? Weren’t it supposed to be disgustingly packed with sweating men, adorned with walls covered in left-over spurts of cum and other bodily fluids, and smelled like sex itself?

Joel continued to pursue Tommy even when he’s overly skeptical about this entirely new scene. His boots were scuffed as he was dragging his feet through the front door, a fight against his defense system that’s begging him to flee out the door at the unfamiliarity. The establishment consisted of a long narrow hallway that eventually led up to an imposing door. Wooden, large, and mysterious.

To his surprise, what was beyond that door wasn’t some tacky sex dungeon with rattling chains and leather whips, it was a modest looking box. Square, he’d assume one meter wide and half a meter tall. He took in the wood it was made from. His pointer finger slowly traced the circumference out of habit. Oak, he concluded, making it sturdy and cool even in the warmer weather. What he failed to notice from the get-go was a pair of legs that were stretched open, chained onto the wall from the considerably-sized gap. Joel’s heart dropped to his stomach, he forgot for an entire minute what he was planning to do, and he’s starting to get cold feet.

“Darlin’, I’ve got someone for you,” Tommy cooed.

“You do, Tommy?”

Normally, people acquire hobbies in order to soothe their brief but occasional boredom, though you have discovered a unique way to tackle long hours of the night. This brilliant discovery of yours was birthed from a fated moment. One where you accidentally stumble across the conversation Tommy had with one of his patrol friends. It began a fantasy in your head. One you didn’t believe could come true until you overheard a passionate storytelling session one of the barmaids gave their friend. Only then did you gather enough courage to talk to Tommy about it. Despite his initial disapproval, saying things like you look too good and gentle to be doing such things, you managed to convince him with a week's worth of nagging.

“Mhm, one of my good friends here,” he hummed. “You’ll let him use you like a good fucking girl, won’t you?”

Goosebumps trailed from your backbone down to where your legs spread wide. Your nervousness made you flinch, effectively causing your legs to rattle against the metal restraints.

“Yes, I will, Tommy.”

When did you get so.. obedient?

“Alright then. I’ll see you in um.. twenty?”

“Thirty,” the foreign voice spoke up, masculine with a twinge of accent.

“Thirty it is.”

The entire room went quiet for an entire minute, only then did you finally hear the door slammed back shut. You swallowed back the throbbing fear in your heart, pushing back those persistent thoughts constantly warning you of the dangers. Even if you trusted Tommy with all your life, you didn’t trust the random strangers Tommy’s picked out. How could you trust them when you didn’t know who they were for sure? They could’ve been someone you see on the daily. The friendly guards, the cafeteria guy who’d always beam a sweet smile your way and give out more bread than standard, or even.. Tommy’s hunk of a brother. The same one who wouldn’t even spare you a look when you’re obviously sending heart eyes his way.

“Darlin’ is your name, ain’t that right?”

There was something so.. alluring about his voice. The type that makes your knees buckle inevitably, despite your best efforts to push it apart.

“That’s right,” you squeaked out.

“Darlin’, it’s been a long long time since I’ve done this, so let me indulge in you alright?”

“Okay,” you breathed out unsurely.

Your eyes instinctively followed the direction of the hushed voice, but all you could see from the dim box was a piece of dark fabric that was hung from above the hole. It was to keep your identity a secret so that the patrons across from you could only see you from the belly button down. Though now you felt more inclined than ever to pull on the draping and meet this man’s eyes. Your thoughts soon diminished when you felt a large hand over your inner thighs. Nowhere dangerous, just resting below where your kneecaps sat. You closed your eyes to try and envision the kind of hands touching you.

Were they soft and unsullied like a baby’s bum? Or were they rough and ridged with years of work?

That large hand traveled down South, inching with an irritatingly slow pace down towards where you ached the most. He was a fair man. He treated both of your thighs in the same manner before the two gathered together in a v-shape over your cotton panties. You wondered if you should’ve worn something more enticing, something which suited a person like you - someone willing to spread their legs for a true stranger. But the man on the other side didn’t seem to have a problem. He didn’t seem like he was bothered by the simplicity of your presentation, instead he was keen on pressing his thumb down the center.

They were the latter. 

His fingers were textured and it felt too good to be true. At the briefest touch, you followed after his movement, hips reaching further up to chase after his departing touch. You whined. Frustrated that he’s cruel enough to press your sensitive clit and leave you all hot and bothered. He let out a deep chuckle, one that came out from the depth of his stomach as he placed his thumb back where it belonged. Your hole clenched and unclenched at the stimulating sensation. Your cotton panties seemed to be a great aid for your needy clit. It felt similar to grinding over a pillow, just this time, it felt a lot more real and animated.

“How long have you been doin’ this, darlin’?”

“Doin’ what, sir?”

So polite. It’s laughable the fact that you’re so soft spoken. Your lips spilled out a gentle moan as his thumb dug deeper into that sensitive spot.

“Lettin’ strangers fuck you,” he was frank with his words that’s for sure.

“This is my first time.. in the box that is,” your voice cracked almost immediately under pressure. “Been thinking of this for a long long time though.”

The gruff man hummed noncommittally as he continued to please you with his thumb. You used to be shy when it comes to being reactive during intercourse, but with the box, it almost felt like you could finally be your true primal self with your utmost carnal desires. He slowly eased your stained panties to the side once he saw an increasingly growing wetness, knowing that it’s time to move on to his next way of torture. Your pussy was exposed to the cool air immediately, it felt like the air was nipping at the sensitive skin all around. He took his two fingers - his middle and pointer finger being his favorite choice despite the controversy - and slowly dragged it atop the slick canal.

“A pretty girl like you gettin’ all wet from a little touchin’,” he chided. “You haven’t been fucked well or somethin’?”

What a considerate man. He called you pretty when he could barely tell what you look like.

“No, maybe, I-” you were flustered. You’ve never had to exchange proper talk when someone’s touching your dirty, wet cunt. “None of Jackson’s men did good. That’s why I hoped..”

Your voice trailed off into a garble of nonsense when he teased at your entrance, trying to decide whether you’re soaked enough to push a finger in comfortably. You whined, louder this time, as your legs fought against the uncomfortable metal cuffs wrapped around your ankle. He decided to play nice for once and made your dreams come true by inserting that thick finger of his. Fingering has never felt good for you, it always felt like an intrusion rather than a welcomed feeling, but he’s making it feel like heaven on earth.

“Hoped a stranger would fuck me well enough,” you took awhile to finish that statement.

He let out one of those noises of disapproval, at your skewed moral direction perhaps or at the tone of desperation your voice must’ve let out. You could only suck in a shallow breath when he started making proper, continuous motions with his finger. He pushed upwards to poke the tip of his finger onto that squishy part, playing around to find out where exactly made you react the most. You loved how he’s patient. You’re half-expecting the men to just stuff their cocks in you like you’re some sex doll instead of taking their time, which you don’t mind either. Half the pleasure was from being treated like nothing.

“Dirty gal,” he degraded, which you found both surprising and exciting. “Just wanted her pussy stuffed with any cock she could have, hm?”

Your hips thrusted up at a larger interruption. This time, the man managed to insert two of his thick fingers inside your eased cunt. He twisted it one-hundred-eighty degrees to the left, then back to the right, before he curled it in a come-here motion. The motion had left you dumb. A combination of ah ah ah’s and unfinished pleads for him to keep still. The man never once fully removed his fingers out of you. He’d slowly pull back to only have a single knuckle stuck inside before pushing it all the way in once more. For once, someone didn’t finger you like you’re a pizza dough waiting to be pounded.

“A-ah, sir. I really.. mmh- I really like that,” you moaned out shamelessly. “Feels really good in my.. in my pussy.”

“You like what, darlin’?”

“Like your fingers.. fingers in my ah- ah pussy!” you whined when he deepened his reach by rotating his wrist upwards. “Something- fuck- something’s coming! Please.. Please don’t sto-”

You warned him like a goddamn virgin and there it was, you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the way your pussy squelched around his finger at the new wave of sticky fluids. The noises were filthy and lewd that you were embarrassed for the first time that night. It coated your throbbing cunt and slowly ebbed out of your hole, dribbling down onto the wooden floor boards under. Strings of almost translucent thickness proof of his success. It’s pretty. The way you gaped around his fingers, tightened and relaxed at his fingers that still kept you full.

“Good girl,” he cooed.

He must be experienced, because he was quick to rub your clit precisely as you went through the throes of orgasm. His broad palm never missed where that bundle of nerves were, until you’re dripping all over the place. Only when you’re right towards the end did he land a small smack atop your pussy, keeping pressure where your womb is to maintain the pleasure for as long as you could. It felt like this wasn’t a shit place for once. It felt like this stranger could surely turn the flesh-eating monsters into a field of rainbows and flowers from how good he’s making you feel.

“You taste sweet,” he muttered. “Someone ever told you that?”

It took you a while to notice that his fingers weren’t there to stuff you full. He was busy tasting you. You could imagine him on the other side of the room, rough fingers deep in his mouth, drenched in your arousal. The thought made you squirm, growing wet once more. You shook your head as his hand slid back up. His fingers ran over your clit with one long stroke before they stayed there. His thumb sat right atop the throbbing spot, unmoving. 

"Perfect little thing, ain't ya?” he asked, and you nodded, your muscles tense as anticipation ran high. "Gonna fill you up real nice."

As soon as the dull tip of his cock prodded against your entrance, your whole body convulsed. Tears slowly crept into your eyes, frustrated, you might as well cry out a pathetic plea if he kept on stalling. Your palms banged flat against the side of the box. Overwhelmed and on the verge of tears when he purposefully missed your weeping hole. His length slid upwards, the warm tip rubbed against your clit from below before it shied away once more. Your toes curled and he must’ve taken the hint from behind the curtains.

The perfect stranger pushed himself up to where his mushroom-like tip ended, allowing you to adjust to the dimensions of his cock before he eased himself deeper.

You let out a strained moan. 

You almost bump the top of your head on the oak boards when he forced his way in. His cock was fully inside you at last. You were ecstatic. Eyes shut close as you bit into your bottom lip, flesh tearing beneath your canines. It was too much all of a sudden. Too good. Too large. Too full. You could hear the loud squelching noise your spongy hole made as he pulled back and stuffed himself back in.

“Fuck,” he groaned silently. “Don’t squeeze around me, darlin’. You're gonna get me in big trouble.”

He chuckled and fuck did it sound so hot.

You felt his fingers gently reach for the width of your hips. His grip was tight and harsh as he guided your every movement with them. He thrusted like a man on a shooting range, with much precision and prowess. You liked this. Liked feeling as if you’re just a doll for people to use and dump their loads in, especially when it's for someone like him. His cock made you writhe and fight against the metal cuffs holding your legs up. Eager to have him speed up to meet your desires yet he was persistent in keeping a stable speed. The sensation was growing. Slowly but surely.

“A-ah.. mmph.. oh God!”

“God ain’t here to save you, darlin’. It’s just this old man right here,” he cooed crudely. 

He made sure to keep you full at all times. Never once did his perfectly-sized cock leave your sloppy hole, it just kept on twitching and growing in size with the help of your warm embrace. “You like this, don’t ya?”

“Oh- oh yes. I like it. Love your..,” he stopped your lewd confession by placing his thumb back atop your once neglected clit, drawing lazily with what’s left of your wetness. You could feel him starting to seep. A tinge of his own arousal mixing in with yours. “Cock! Love your c- cock.”

His heavy pants started to intensify in volume, such a lovely melody when combined with your pathetic whimpers. He’s close.

“Gonna cum in you, darlin’” he muttered out breathlessly. “Gonna make sure you’re all fucked out with my cum.”

You couldn’t think straight. Not when you’re on a highway to heaven. Your little hole tightened, so eager to milk him dry.

“Yeah, you’d like that, won’t you?”

“O-oh.. oh yes. Please.. fuck,”

“Please?”

“Please fill me up.”

His tip started oozing out ribbons after ribbons of cum, quickly filling you up relentlessly. Though he hasn’t stopped bottoming himself up into you. His load sloshed around, coated his length a perfect milky shade, and dribbled down your rear deliciously. Did you really just let a complete stranger fill you up to the top? Did you truly just let him pour his seed up your needy hole?

Maybe you did.

And maybe it’s reckless.

But oddly enough, you don’t feel too bad about it.

[wherethefireliliesgrow]

(1) 1825 days: colorblind

Myoui Mina x reader

Part of the series: Palette

Five years. Precisely 1,826 days. That is the exact timeframe for a Wayward to discover their destined soulmate before the connection breaks off, leaving the Wayward hollow and withering into nothingness.

The human race has been divided into Waywards and Itinerants, although nobody knows why or when this phenomenon began. It is possible that Aphrodite herself is angered at how humans are ruining her imprint of love on the world, or perhaps the fates are taking revenge on the red strings of fate that we burned down due to infidelity after they spent lifetimes sewing and finding the right connection for us.

All we know is that certain individuals have numbers tattooed onto their right-hand wrist as soon as they turn 20, which change every day at midnight with a blistering, painful sensation on their skin. These are the unfortunate ones that we call Waywards. They have to locate their soulmates and establish their connection before the numbers on their wrists run out, or their soul will slowly die without the other half, like a flower without water, wilting slowly as pieces of their memories fall and fade, leaving them an empty shell of the person they once were. A five percent chance of other symptoms might appear, such as losing the sense of smell, or a sense that can single out their soulmate and make it easier for Waywards to locate them.

As cruel as the fates may seem, they did not leave the Waywards completely helpless. With a built-in magnet in their hearts, Waywards can sense where their soulmate is up to within a kilometer distance. However, it is earning the connection establishment decision of their soulmates that is challenging, or in other words, winning over their love.

The other half of the population, the ones who are sought by their Waywards, are called Itinerants. They are the lucky ones, not needing to endure the pain or sense of longing in their hearts as soon as they reach their twenties. Instead, a small, half-finished tattoo representing what means the most to their Wayward would appear on their wrists, slowly changing until the Wayward's five-year time frame ends. The Itinerants cannot sense their Waywards until coming into contact with them, skin-to-skin. As soon as skin contact is initiated, the second half of the Itinerants’ tattoos will automatically finish. Itinerants have no emotional ties to their Waywards, just a good first impression at most. The Itinerants can decide whether to accept the soulmate establishment, giving them the power to decide their fate, whether it is to live happily ever after with their Waywards or choose their own path in love by rejecting them, hence their name of the Itinerant.

1825 days.

You knew you were doomed the moment your skin started to blister at 11:59 p.m. on the day before your 20th birthday.

“Wayward,” your best friend since preschool, Ryujin, whispered in pity as she cradled your hand in hers, watching as the countdown tattoo slowly burned and appeared on your wrists.

“Yeah, I kinda expected this to happen,” you murmured, staring at the cloudy night sky from the rooftop of Ryujin’s house.

The color in your eyesight was beginning to fade, making the night sky look even grayer. It seems that you were also cursed with additional wayward attributes. Your two sisters were already blessed with the fate of being Itinerants, and the chances of it happening the third time in a family were nearly non-existent.

“Do you sense them?” Ryujin asked, wrapping her thin arm around your shoulders, hoping to provide some kind of comfort.

“Yeah, they’re not here,” you said.

Ryujin looked at you in shock. “What do you mean? Not in our town, or not in the same state?”

“Not in our country. They're back in our home country,” you replied.

It was not unheard of for soulmate connections to happen between people in different regions. However, the reason for the gods creating the connection was to ensure long-lasting love that covered the land instead of punishing innocent Waywards for humanity’s past sins.

To lighten the mood, Ryujin nudged your shoulder playfully. “So, does this mean you’ll finally go back with me to South Korea to see my Got7 oppas?”

“I thought you were gay,” you laughed.

“Can’t be sure. My Wayward hasn't found me yet. Might be an extremely hot oppa looking for me right now,” Ryujin said with a smile, touching the small pink teddy bear tattoo on her pale wrist.

You snorted. “I haven’t seen many oppas liking pink teddy bears, but to each their own.”

“Oh, shut up. I hope you end up with an old man,” Ryujin teased.

“I probably won’t get to find out,” you shrugged.

“What do you mean? You’re not going to look for them?” Ryujin squinted her eyes and pursed her lips in confusion, making her look like a brunette Mr. Bean.

“Yeah, I don’t like the idea of having to convince someone to love me back just because the tattoos on our wrists say so. It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves. I don’t want to give them that power to decide whether I am worth loving,” you ranted, standing up and pacing in front of Ryujin.

“Also, I feel that it’s unfair for the Itinerants. You guys don’t feel anything, and all of a sudden, a random person shows up and pressures you into confirming the soulmate connection, or else they’ll fade away. This soulmate thing is not a blessing, just a damn curse that ruins both sides, killing off one side and letting the other wallow in guilt for the rest of their lives in the other,” you continued.

Ryujin smiled softly in amusement after hearing your rant. She loved you for your empathy for others, but she was done with your stupid heroism ideas. She just wanted you to think of yourself for once but had long given up on convincing you.

“Whatever. You don’t have to look for your soulmate. I just want you there for me when I audition,” Ryujin said, standing up and punching your arm.

“And soulmate or not, I think you are extremely worth loving. So if your soulmate rejects you, I’ll be kicking their ass for killing off my best friend.”

Next Chapter

[justsomerandomfanfic]

It All Started At Jurassic Park - Ian Malcolm X Female Reader

Title: It All Started At Jurassic Park

Ian Malcolm X Female Reader

Additional Characters: John Hammond, Dr. Henry Wu, Alan, and Ellie

| Part 2 | Part 3 |

WC: 1,436

Warnings: N/A

Checking her clipboard, the scientist took notes on the unhatched eggs, analyzing them as the robot arm gently picked them up and turned them, keeping them warm. Jotting down a few notes, the female scientist made her way to her co-worker, passing off her notes and heading to her desk. Sitting down at her computer, she made sure to add anything to her notes digitally, and made sure to fill out her paperwork for the day before her lunch break. 

Y/N L/N worked for John Hammond, as a paleontologist in his growing theme park, Jurassic Park. Somehow the man had brought dinosaurs back to life, and when he came to her, offering her a job as a baby dinosaur caretaker, she couldn’t say no.

Y/N had been working for John for a very long time. She had been one of the first few people who joined and began working at Jurassic Park. It was an amazing new start for Y/N and her boring life. She never thought, in her wildest dreams, that she would ever get the chance to see a dinosaur in real life, that wasn’t just bones. She felt very fortunate for being chosen to do this job. She was three years out of college, studying and majoring in Paleontology, Marine Biology, and Earth Science. For all of University and College, she had been working as a part-time barista, and she never thought she would be able to get out of it. 

Now, after about two years, Y/N had been rising up in the ranks of life. She had basically her dream job, amazing income, and free health insurance. She even had a small cottage on the island, not really leaving often anyway. She was in constant need at the lab, making sure the dino eggs were staying warm and healthy while also taking care of the baby dinosaurs as they grew. It had to be the best thing she had ever done. For hours she got to sit with the baby dinosaurs, taking care of them and making sure they were healthy. Even though John always made sure that the baby dinos imprinted on him first, Y/N felt that she too had a strong connection with them as well. Readjusting her glasses, she finished her online work for the day, making sure to close everything up before leaving the lab for lunch. 

+ + +

“Come on in.” John Hammond spoke softly, taking off his hat and handing it to one of the technicians.

“Good morning, Henry.” John greeted the scientist, who was taking notes.

“Oh, good day, sir,” Henry spoke, noticing the man.

Grant looked around the room, his eyes catching the eggs, watching as one of the eggs made a strong move, the robotic arm steadying it. 

“My God, look!” He exclaimed as John, Henry, Ellie, and Ian joined him.

“Ah, perfect timing. I was hoping they would hatch before I had to go on the boat.” Henry mentioned, writing a few things on his clipboard of notes.

Looking up and around quickly, John looked back to the hatching egg.

“Where’s Dr. L/N? She needs to be here for this.” John asked as Henry looked up from his clipboard and looked around the room as well.

“I think she went to lunch, sir,” Henry answered, going back to his clipboard.

“Have someone notify her of the hatching, please,” John asked, grabbing a pair of plastic gloves and slipping them on.

“Right away, sir,” Henry spoke before grabbing his walkie-talkie.

The egg begins to crack, the robotic arm moves away, a baby dinosaur tries to break its way out, just its head sticking out of the shell. John reaches down carefully, breaking the shell away, helping the baby dinosaur out.

“Come on then, out you come.” John cooed to the small dinosaur.

“They imprint on the first living creature they come in contact with. That helps them to trust me. I’ve been present for the birth of every animal on the island. Just look at that.” John spoke, as he carefully petted the baby dino’s head.

“Surely not the ones that have bred in the wild?”

“Actually, they can’t breed in the wild. We have a huge thing for population control. There is no unauthorized breeding.” A voice quickly answered, gaining John and his company’s attention.

“Took the words right out of my mouth, Y/N.” Henry chuckled, before heading to his desk to file the baby dino’s birth report.

John stood up, quickly tossing his gloves in the trash, before turning to the scientist.

“Y/N, how wonderful of you to join us. The first egg just hatched.” John spoke and Y/N’s eyes widened, quickly heading over and checking on the baby.

“Darn, my calculations must have been off. I thought I still had a couple of days.” She spoke, pushing up the edge of her glasses, before grabbing a pair of her own gloves. 

Helping out with the shell, she gently took the baby dino in her hands, observing and making sure the baby was doing alright, and all seemed fine.

“How do you know that they can’t breed?” Ian asked, more intrigued by the scientist than the answer to his question.

“They are all females, we’ve engineered them that way.” Gently turning the dinosaur in her hands, Y/N tilted her head to the side.

“Body temperature feels like somewhere around eighty-eight or eighty-nine degrees,” Y/N mumbled.

“Henry?” John asked, gaining the other scientist’s attention.

“Ninety-one.” He answered.

Y/N nodded and gave a small smile.

“Close enough. Doesn’t seem to be any issues in breathing or anything. She’s as healthy as can be.” She spoke as Ian looked at John skeptically.

“But again, how do you know they’re all female? Does someone go into the park and, uh… Lift up the dinosaurs’ skirts?”

“We control their chromosomes. It’s not that difficult. All vertebrate embryos are inherently female anyway. It takes an extra hormone at the right developmental stage to create a male, and we simply deny them that.” Henry explained as Ian stood there, shocked.

“Your silence intrigues me,” John spoke.

“John, the kind of control you’re attempting is not possible. If there’s one thing the history of evolution has taught us, it’s that life will not be contained. Life breaks free. It expands to new territories. It crashes through barriers. Painfully, maybe even… Dangerously, but… Well, there it is.”

“There it is.” John agreed as Henry looked at Ian.

“You’re implying that a group composed entirely of females will… breed?” He spoke, looking at the man with furrowed eyebrows. 

“No, I’m simply saying that life… uh, finds a way.” Ian tried to explain.

“That is true… Mr… Uh…” Y/N gestured with a hand for the seeming rockstar's name.

“Ian, Ian Malcolm.” He introduced himself, giving the woman a smile, in which she blushed.

Y/N nodded and continued, "It’s true, Mr. Malcolm, but, here, we sort of change how life sort of works. I guess it’s hard to explain.” She laughed awkwardly, before looking towards Alan, who was looking intensely at the baby dino.

“Do you want to hold her?” Y/N asked the man, who abruptly looked up and gave a nod. 

“Yes, thank you.”

“Just put on some gloves over there.” She spoke, as Alan quickly pulled on some gloves.

Y/N gently handed the baby dino over to the man, who had taken a deep breath in return. He had a certain suspicion of what it was. 

“What species is this?” He asked, gently holding the baby in both hands.

“It’s a velociraptor,” Y/N spoke, taking her gloves off and throwing them in the nearby trash can.

“You bred raptors?” He asked, and the scientist nodded slowly, looking at the man in slight confusion. 

Alan looked down at the baby raptor the small dinosaur in his hand that would one day grow up to be an incredible killer. Y/N checked over any of the other unhatched dino eggs, making sure none of them were hatching. Sighing, she pushed up her glasses again before looking back at John and his group. 

“It was nice to meet you all, but I have to get to the baby sector. I’ll hopefully see you all later.” She spoke before heading to the door, before leaving she turned to Henry.

“Dr. Wu, could you please notify me when the next babies hatch?” She asked the other doctor, who nodded and gave the woman a smile.

“Thank you.”

Turning to Ian, Y/N smiled at the man. "And, I'll hopefully be seeing you, Ian?" She asked and Ian smirked, looking the scientist up and down.

"Uh, yes... Hopefully so." He spoke and Y/N nodded before clearing her throat and rushing off and out of the lab.

Ian watched after her, his smile never leaving his face. Ellie nudged the man and smiled up at him.

"I think she likes you." She spoke and Ian nodded, continuing to stare at the door you left through.

"Yeah, I think she does."

Ellie chuckled, crossing her arms. "And I think you like her."

Ian nodded once more, pushing up his glasses, his cheeks feeling warm. "Yeah, I think I do."

[can-youimagine]

Father Reid (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Father Reid finally has some excitement

TW: Smut (18+, minors interacting will be blocked), feminine reader/AFAB reader, priest!Spencer, sex in an empty church, unprotected sex, masturbation, panties, rather dark, minor perv!Spencer, vaginal penetration, light d/s (switch!reader/spencer), wax play, spanking

Word Count: 1965

Masterlist

Spencer walks into the church like he does every week. After spending years working for the FBI, devoting his life to God seemed like the only logical choice. It was peaceful and calm, and even if he didn’t believe every word he was saying, other people did, and it helped them. 

All his life, Spencer has wanted to help people, and now he feels like he truly is. He feels completely and totally at peace. 

At least, he did until he looked into the congregation and saw you. You had never been in his church before, that he is sure of. You are there with an older woman who he does recognize and knows fairly well, giving him a reason to talk to you after mass.

He scolds himself. He should not be thinking about you as anything other than a parishioner, especially since he is saying the mass. Still, when you fall to your knees in front of him, tongue out, ready for communion, he can’t stop himself from ghosting his fingers on your tongue. 

The look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know. You want this too. 

He notices the smirk you give him as he leaves. If you’re this bold now, he can’t wait to see how bold you can be.

“Mrs. Wilson,” he greets the woman before she can take you away from him. “I notice you’ve brought a guest.”

“Yes,” she smiles, wrapping her arm around you. As if you needed an excuse to stay near him. “Father Reid, this is my niece (Y/N).”

“I’ve heard a lot about you.”

You give him a gentle smile. “Not too much, I hope.”

He laughs. “What brings you around?” And what can I do to make sure you stay?

“I just moved to the area,” you answer plainly.

So, you are staying. This is the first time all day Spencer wanted to praise God. “We’re lucky to have you.” His eyes stay on you.

“(Y/N) used to work for the FBI, too,” Mrs. Wilson interjects.

“Used to?” is the part that sticks out to him.

You let out an uncomfortable chuckle. “I wasn’t an agent or anything. I worked in HR for a few years after college.”

He feels a sense of relief that you were spared some of the pain the job can cause. He also feels a sense of relief that he now has a perfect opportunity to talk to you without your aunt. “I’d love to talk with you about it sometime.” His sentence doesn’t make sense, and he feels like he did every time he tried to ask a girl out before.

But, he’s not asking you out, because he can’t.

“I’d love that.” You definitely don’t agree to a date with him, because you can’t.

Mrs. Wilson smiles widely. “Oh, it’s so good to see the two of you get along. See, (Y/N), I told you you’d like him.”

“You were right,” you answer with a smirk, causing Spencer to blush. 

“I look forward to seeing you again,” he chokes out.

“Nice to meet you, Father Reid.”

He watches you walk away, your skirt swishing with each step. A breeze blows by, giving him a peek of what’s underneath as if God can hear him. Though, he’s not quite certain whether God is rewarding him for his self-control or punishing him for his lack of it. 

He speaks politely with the other members of the church before locking himself in the rectory. He tried to push the thoughts away, but the image of your lavender panties barely covering your ass is imprinted on his brain. The feeling of your tongue on his fingers has burnt itself onto him. The last thing he wants to do is disrespect you, but then again, you seemed to know exactly what you were doing.

After nearly a full day of trying to get you out of his mind, he finally bites the bullet. Closes his eyes as he slides his pants down. Gripping himself through his underwear, he imagines your hand teasing him. He imagines your smirk as you scold him for his sin. Whatever comes next is stopped by the knock at his door.

He panics, throwing his clothes back on and trying to cool down. He was not masturbating. He definitely was not masturbating.

When he opens the door, he is greeted by a cruel joke.

“Hi, Father, is now a bad time?” you greet.

“No,” he answers. “No, of course not. Can I help you?”

“My aunt had some things to drop off for the fundraiser, so she thought I could bring them by tonight,” you explain, gesturing to the bundle of blankets in your arms. “I wasn’t quite sure where to leave them. I would have just left them outside the door, but it looks like it’s going to rain.”

Sure enough, there is a crack of thunder before the sky opens.

“Come in.” He grabs your arm, pulling you inside before he has the chance to see what you look like in the rain. He takes the blankets from you, taking a moment to admire your aunt’s talent and kindness before he turns to you. “It seems like you’re going to be here a while.”

“It does,” you answer, not wanting to push back, though you know you should. “So, Father, what were you doing before I got here?”

He stills, not able to think of a lie fast enough.

“Oh? Were you doing something unholy?” You stand behind him, your fingers toying with his collar. “It’s a good thing I came when I did. Would hate for you to fall into sin.”

Spencer can’t speak. He feels like he’s in a dream he never wants to wake up from. 

“Tell me, Father, what were you doing before I came?”

“I-uh-I was touching myself,” he admits.

You purse your lips in faux disappointment. Tugging on his collar, you bring him closer. “I don’t believe you.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you. Such a good priest would never touch himself.”

“I was!” He’s not quite sure why he needs you to believe him when moments ago he would have died of embarrassment if someone had found out.

“Show me.”

He gasps at your boldness.

“I said, show me, Father,” you order, pushing him onto the couch.

He nods, sliding off his pants before holding his cock through his underwear, like he had before you arrived. You sit on the table, watching him intently.

“Is that all?”

“It’s all I had time for.”

Your legs open, bring Spencer’s attention to your lavender panties. “Do these look familiar?” He tries to stutter out a response, but you laugh, cutting him off. “I could feel you staring.” You reach under your dress, slipping your panties off before tossing them to him. 

He examines them. His shy demeanor gone. “Seems like I’m not the only sinner here.” He holds the fabric in front of her. “Care to explain what caused this?”

You fall to your knees. “Forgive me, Father.”

“You’ll need to serve your penance first.”

“What is it?” you ask, tugging at the waistband of his underwear.

“Dress off,” he orders before undressing himself. Before you can kneel again, he grabs your arm, pulling you through the rectory and into the church. Your eyes grow wide. “If you are going to lust during mass-after a priest no less-you are getting fucked in the church.”

His newfound confidence goes straight to your core, causing you to close your legs. Father gives you a look of disapproval, but he decides he’ll deal with that later.

“Where would be the best place to fuck you? Should I take you in your pew, so that every time you sit there you will remember to be a good girl? How about my chair, so that every time I sit down, you’ll remember riding my cock? It almost seems to obvious to spread you over the altar,” he muses. “Though, I’m sure you’ll be back again. We’ll have time to do everything, won’t we?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Good girl. Show me where you want to receive your penance.”

You pause for a moment, glancing around the church before settling on a spot. Despite the church being empty, you feel incredibly self-conscious as you stand completely naked. Father Reid, however, calmly walks through the church. If his cock wasn’t standing, you would think he was completely uninterested in the scene. 

You decide on the altar. Just as you are about to sit on it, Father Reid stops you. “Bend over,” he orders, though he barely gives you time to process his words before he turns you around and pushes you down onto the altar himself. You yelp at the feeling of the cold marble on your burning skin. 

“Before I can fuck the sin out of you, I need to punish you, don’t I?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Do you know which commandments you broke?”

“No, Father.”

“Of course you don’t. Number six ‘Thou shall not commit adultery’,” he recites, “and number nine ‘thou shall not covet his neighbor’s wife’.” He rubs your ass, getting you excited for what is to come. “So, I think it’s only fair that I give you six spankings for the first commandment and nine for the second. How many is that?”

“Fifteen,” you answer.

“Good girl,” he responds before bringing his hand down. The sound reverbates throughout the sanctuary as prayers had only hours earlier. With each hit, you feel yourself fall more and more into him until the fifteenth spank when you are completely at his mercy. 

He lifts you so that you can sit on the altar. 

“Please, Father,” you breathe. “I need you.”

“Oh, I know you do.” He swipes his fingers through your slick. “I seems like you haven’t learned any self control.”

“Fuck it into me then.”

He laughs. “Patience, (Y/N). If I just give you what you want, how will you learn your lesson?” He steps away from the atlar. “Lay down.”

You comply, no longer able to see him.

“Close your eyes.”

Again, you comply without questioning. You hear his footsteps echo throughout the building. You aren’t sure what he’s planning, and you begin to worry that he’s just going to leave you like this.

Until you feel a hot liquid drip onto you.

You shriek and open your eyes. Father Reid just shakes his head, letting the candle in his hand continue to drip. “Don’t think I didn’t see you eye these candles during mass. Tell me, is this what you wanted?”

“Yes, Father,” you moan. With his free hand, he smears the wax around your torso, up to your breasts. A wax covered hand flicks your nipple. You moan at the sensation. “Father.”

That seems to be enough for him to break. He sets the candle down before he pulls you further down the altar by your hips. “I’m going to fuck you until you see God,” he promises. That is all the warning he gives before pushing his cock into you. He brings his hand to your clit, rubbing and flicking it in the perfect way.

You hadn’t expected to finish so fast. You hadn’t expected him to be so good.

“Fuck, Father, I’m close.”

He doesn’t let up. “Go ahead.” He leans closer to you, groaning in your ear. “Let go.”

You rut your hips against him as you ride out your high. As you tighten around him, he pulls out, jerking himself a few times before he spills himself onto your stomach. In a lustful daze, you swipe your fingers through it before bringing them to your mouth. “Thank you, Father,” you moan.

He helps you off the altar. “I look forward to your next confession.”

[mizufae]

Orchid and cactus for the ask meme, please!

Thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about myself!!

A song I consider perfect? My taste in music is kind of ridiculously varied. But honestly?? Bohemian Rhapsody might be perfect. I know it’s like everyone’s favorite song or whatever, and I should pick like, some Mahler symphony or some Björk mouth sounds, but okay what are my criteria for perfection when it comes to songs?

One, it should be able to express a spectrum of emotions and generate empathy within the listener. Two, it should have a melody you can recall well enough that at least parts of it get stuck in your head. Three, musicians who cover it should be able to add their own twists and style innovations but it remains recognizable. Four, it should make people stop and want to listen to it all the way through.

The audience can vary of course so “people” and “musicians” and “listener” and “you” might be a million people or it might just be fifty people in a niche theme bar or it might be just you and your shipmates. But Bohemian Rhapsody can get a stadium of gross teens singing in complex harmony. You can play it on a carousel organ or mumble it under your breath while doing chores and people can still ID it. The emotional journey of the song transposes from an incredible queer anthem to literally any challenge or coming of age you want. The vocals are so incredible that Freddie Mercury’s voice like, spiritually imprints his energy on everyone who gives it their all. It broke through genres and cultures and arbitrary industry standards and makes no sense on paper but it’s transcendent. Please enjoy it on a 100 year old fairground organ.

What am I currently learning about? Right now nothing super in particular. I’m honestly kind of in hibernation mode cuz we’ve entered the season in Seattle where I feel like there’s two hours of sun a day and it rains constantly. Personally and fandom wise I’m still on a Stranger Things fic binge and I’ve learned that I’m grateful to be an old because if I were younger I would have the biggest fucking celebrity crush imaginable on Finn Wolfhard, because he so perfectly encapsulates my younger self’s type that it’s insane. As it is I merely have cuteness aggression about him and want to feed him pie and encourage his dreams, thank god. So, like, self-knowledge is good.

Hrmmmm. Oh, also, I’ve been discussing/teaching color theory to my friend who is an indie game designer (play project O.R.B.! It’s free! Explore a mysterious ocean and find rainbow crystals!) and because of that I’ve been refreshing and updating a lot of the things I learned about fifteenish years ago when I was getting my BFA. Do you know about the CIELAB Color Space??? Color science is wild, man, cuz it’s like our meat brains trying to quantify our collection interpretation of sensory information but also fused with cultural preferences and personal histories and technological limitations. My friend is a programmer by trade so I keep bringing up art history references he has no clue about and he’s like “wow, I didn’t know art looked like this ever” and I’m like “surprise, artists can also be autistic!” And he’s like “give me homework” and I’m like “I don’t know how to handle this kind of power” so that’s been fun! We’ve been having kind of a break for a month though cuz he is the at-home dad for two young kids and holiday season is upon us. I hope we can get back together for some more color theory time before next year.

[h0neypjm]

Confident 02 | jjk

↳ Summary: After giving Jungkook the best suck of his life he’s left wondering if what you said was true. Was it really your first time? ‘Cause Jungkook thinks you might’ve lied.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, college au, fuckboy! jk, our fav cheeky virgin reader!

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 8.8k

↳ Warnings: swearing, mentions of past toxic relationship, mentions of being pressured into sex, mentions of body image, mentions of stds, Jungkook being very confused, no smut in this part

↳ a/n: here it is !!! thank you for all the love for the first part, i hope you enjoy this part ! please feel free to leave any feedback <3 

↳ Series: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Previously...

“She said it's her first time.” He pauses, looking up at his friends' concerned faces. “I think she might’ve lied.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Jungkook groans, cradling his head before banging it on the table. The utensils on the table rattle and clang, bringing unwanted attention to his mini breakdown. Taehyung is quick to place his hand under Jungkook's forehead just as he goes in for another blow. “Ok, Jungkook- Jungkook!” Jimin giggles beside him. “Fucking stop, people are staring.”

Jungkook pauses and subtly peeks out of his long bangs, checking to see that Taehyung’s words were indeed true. He breathes out and sits up in his chair, fixing his shirt to play off that he wasn’t just having a mental meltdown.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “soooo are you gonna talk now, cause’ I have a horrible headache and you’re really not helping.”

Jungkook nods opening his mouth to speak. “Alright so uh, I met a girl last night and-”

“I thought you went home?” Taehyung shoves Jimin’s shoulder and Jungkook glares, “yeah, well that clearly didn’t happen.” He rubs his temples, “could you do me a favour and let me speak first, and then you can ask the questions. Ok?”

The two boys nod, settling into their seats as Jungkook delves back into his story.

“Alright so anyways, I saw this girl and like, I haven’t ever seen her before? She was literally perfect”. He exhales looking at nothing at particular as he continues. “Gorgeous face, prettiest lips and oh! speaking of her lips, God the way she sucked-”

Despite what Jungkook said earlier, Taehyung feels the need to intervene. “Ok as much as I love a good suck myself, I need you to stop here, we don’t need the graphics.” Jimin nods in agreement even though it’s clear he’s not paying an ounce of attention. Jungkook smirks at the memory, but it soon drops as he remembers one tiny detail. He places his hands on the table, total seriousness etched onto his face. “But here’s the kicker, she said it was her first time.”

Confusion. 

“So did you or did you not take her virginity?”Jungkook crosses his arms. “No, after that she just up and left.” “Wait, fuck”, Jungkook suddenly realises, “I didn’t even make her cum”, he groans and Taehyung bursts into laughter. This finally garners Jimin’s attention, his dazed eyes squinting. “Who’s the girl?” Jungkook sighs, “if you were listening before you would’ve heard me say that I don’t know her.” Jimin leans forward,“well can you at least describe her? I pretty much know everyone who attended the party”

Jungkook doesn’t have to think that hard. “She was wearing this plaid skirt and like a white top-” Jimin’s eyes widen, “Holy shit, Y/N?! Man, Jin’s gonna kill you.” This makes Jungkook pause, thoughts running back to the text he had received from Jin. “Wait, they’re not a thing are they?” Jimin chokes, “God no, they’ve been family friends since like forever, Jin’s practically her protective older brother.”

That explained his text earlier. Jungkook furrows his brows, more questions beginning to arise and spill out of his mouth. “How come I’ve never met her and if she’s a virgin, then how- how did-”, Taehyung cuts in, “dude she’s done other things before.” More confusion. “And how would you know that?” Taehyung smirks, shrugging as he gets up out of his chair. “I'm gonna get a drink, Jimin, you want anything?” God, his head is spinning. “Sure, you know my usual.”

It was the way Taehyung spoke too casually, like your lifestyle choices were common knowledge. How the fuck hasn’t he met you, yet his friends seem to be well acquainted with your existence? “What the fuck was that look?” He focuses on Taehyung from where he orders his drinks. “Did you see it Jimin? Kinda sus.”

Jimin remains nonchalant, blowing a strand of hair out of his sight before answering one of Jungkook’s urgent queries. “Jin never introduced you to her because well…” He looks Jungkook up and down with an unimpressed look. “You would get your grimy hands on her immediately. And Then after that, It’s like she never existed ” Jungkook opens his mouth, rebuttal on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t argue with me boy, the second you met her, you already wanted her on your dick, did you not?”

Jungkook is shocked to say the least, jaw hanging open as Taehyung makes his way back to the table, drinks in hand. “Oh God, what did you tell him?” Jungkook slams his fist on the table, yet again grabbing the attention of people around them. “That is not true! I have standards, and what about you two. You guys are just as bad.” He points accusingly at the bruises peeking out of Taehyung’s loose shirt, “Look at Tae! Those hickies are probably a combination of the three girls he fucked last week!”

Jimin doesn’t want to get kicked out of the cafe, so he attempts to calm down a soon to be raging Jungkook. “Look, to put it nicely, you’re a heartbreaker, you lead girls on whereas Tae and I actually tell people we’re not interested in anything more than a hookup.”

Jungkook seems to understand where he’s coming from. He can admit, he does have quite the reputation if the amount of times he’s been slapped in the face says anything. But now, with this newfound information, he can also admit that you’ve certainly intrigued him, that was for sure.

Jungkook wants to see you again.

Not for a rump in the sheets, but rather a friendly conversation. 

It was just his luck that he had heard through the grapevine that you had been invited to one of Jin’s small pool party get togethers. If Jungkook was being honest, he’s quite excited to be within your vicinity again but he knows he needs to keep his cool. Especially after the series of death threats and slaps on the neck from Jin. He shudders at the memory.

And so, Jungkook prepares himself more than he usually does. He wants to do it right this time. No flirty teasing, just friendly innocent conversation. He makes sure to carefully pick out the right swim shorts that display the thickness of his thighs. Not for any sexual gain, more so to show off the hours spent at the gym in hopes that maybe he can get you to become more interested in him as he is to you. He sounds desperate, and he’s sure you’re not that materialistic, but he has this nagging want to impress you somehow. He huffs and does a few pushups, for extra measure of course.

He’s not sure as to why his brain decided to make him act this way. You’re more or less a stranger to him. However, when Jungkook begins his short journey to Jin’s house he really lets himself think, which usually isn't a good idea. 

Jungkook doesn’t know you, but you’ve definitely left an imprint in his mind which makes you all the more fascinating. It’s news to him that you seem to be very close to his small circle of friends which is probably thanks to your deeply rooted friendship with Jin. That new piece of information had been bugging him since the day he met up with Taehyung and Jimin. Surely his reputation couldn’t be the only reason why you’ve never met him. Right?

Parking his car in Jin’s enormous driveway, he makes his way up to the grand front door. Sometimes he wishes he could live a life like Jin. He grew up being fed with a silver spoon his whole life. Having everything paid for instead of rolling in the miseries of college student debt.

Once Jungkook makes his way into the large house, he sets down the drinks he had brought onto the kitchen counter and watches his best friends goof around and enjoy the summer sun with a warm grin. He chuckles quietly when Jin pushes Jimin and his perfectly styled hair into the pool. Jimin screams a slur of curses while Jin quickly runs beside a sleeping Yoongi for protection.

Slipping out of his loose oversized shirt, Jungkook scans the entirety of Jin’s backyard, looking for the face that has been haunting him since that fateful night. She’s not here. He reexamines the pool seeing nothing but the chaotic mess of his favourite people, and he sighs. Just as he prepares to step out into the blazing sun, the sound of his stomach growling stops him in his tracks. 

Thinking about you made him nervous. So nervous that his stomach couldn’t bear the thought of breakfast. However, after the realisation that you hadn’t arrived just yet, makes him do a full one eighty, long strides taking him to Jin’s expensive fridge.

His head is already deep into the fridge when he hears the sound of the sliding door opening, revealing a dripping Jin with a small scowl on his face. It seems Jimin finally got his revenge. “I’m starving you got any leftovers?” Jungkook queries, his head popping out from the cool air of the fridge.

Jin grabs a fresh towel and whacks it against Jungkook’s naked back. “What’s the point of even asking when you’re already going through my damn fridge!” Jungkook flashes Jin an innocent grin and glows when he discovers a small bowl of Chinese takeout. 

It very quickly dawns on Jungkook that in order to enjoy a nice warm meal, he would need to heat it up. His stomach all but roars, not used to the lack of food in its system and Jungkook wants to cry. He wants to cry and it's not from the angry hunger pains, but rather something extremely laughable. He has to use a fucking microwave. 

You’re running late, there’s sweat running down your brow and you feel like your arms will fall off any second. The weight of snacks and alcohol you had brought making you stagger as you finally enter Jin’s enormous home.

The one and only thing that’s on your mind is the refreshing feeling of slipping into Jin’s pool while sipping on an iced beverage. This motivates you enough to put all the strength left in your exhausted being to speedily walk into the kitchen and throw everything onto the counter. 

“AHH FUCK!” You flinch at the sudden scream, hugging your body protectively. Jungkook slowly pops out from behind the other side of the counter, his doe eyes big and wide. “You fucking scared me Jesus!” He exclaims, running a hand through sweaty bangs.

The air had escaped your lungs long before you could utter your next sentence as the sight before you has you freezing. There he was, Jeon Jungkook in all his glory. Tanned skin and taut muscle sculpted by the Gods. You didn’t mean to stare, but how could you not! Your eyes had a mind of their own. He’s glorious, every single part of him, and you’re not even afraid to admit it. Your eyes are quick to eat him up, tracing the art staining the whole of his right arm and you wonder what every swirl of ink means to him.

Jungkook coughs awkwardly, going in to scratch at his neck. You imagined he would tease you about your obvious ogling, but it never came. Strange. “Why were you hiding?” You ask, dropping your gaze from his body in order to arrange the snacks into neat piles, using it as an excuse to slowly step closer to him. “Oh! Uh-”, he scratches his head, looking down at his feet before jumping five feet into the air, a startled gasp leaving his lips when the timer of the microwave goes off. 

You burst into laughter and Jungkook flushes in embarrassment. Jin had told you about Jungkook’s embarrassing fear of microwaves but you never thought you would see it first hand. You hold in the laughs that tickle your throat and try to settle him down by lightly touching his shoulder. He flinches at your touch.

“Are you okay?” You’re really close to him now. Your chest is practically pressed up against his and Jungkook gulps. How was it possible that you could look even more stunning than the last time he saw you? Your cheeks are glowing from the soft golden rays of the afternoon sun and the way you look up at him, your soft smile curling makes his head spin.

“Yeah, I’m good”, he breaks eye contact in embarrassment. “Sorry, just uh, microwaves are scary you know?” You giggle up at him. Is this really Jungkook? The Jungkook you’ve seen flaunting a new girl every week just to abruptly break her heart when he can’t promise anything more than sex? 

You’re not complaining, he’s quite adorable like this.

You’re not too sure why his personality has the sudden switch up. It could possibly be the fact that he’s with his closest friends and doesn’t feel the need to put up his playboy persona. Although, the way he blushes when he looks at you plays a different story. Do you make him nervous? Surely not, if the memories of that heated night are anything to go by.

“So uh, are you gonna head into the pool?” His empty stomach is long forgotten as he gestures to the large backyard, you nod up at him excitedly. It’s then Jin decides to bust back into the kitchen, a stern gaze set on his face. “Y/N, can I speak with you for a minute?” Jungkook cautiously takes a step away from you, your bodies no longer close to each other and you notice this with a small frown.

“Yeah, sure”, you relent walking over to Jin who places a protective arm around your shoulders. Unknowingly to you, Jin traps Jungkook down with a hard stare and signals Jungkook to go outside, to which he accepts with a nod.

“I know what you’re gonna say, and no I do not see him like that”, you cross your arms defensively. Jin sighs, “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt again.” He places his hands on your shoulders, full lecture mode on. “Let’s face it, you’re a hopeless romantic, I can’t trust that you won’t do something stupid, but you and Jungkook… You’re both important friends of mine and-” 

You’ve heard his overprotective brotherly speech plenty of times, “I know, and I’m so thankful that you’re looking out for me. I just don’t see the harm in befriending him, you’ve never let me speak to him before.” Jin releases his hold on your shoulders to fix the mess of his wet hair, “and there's a reason for that.”

Why was he so damn hard-headed. Jin loves Jungkook like he loves his family. It just didn't make any sense to you that Jin could approve of their friendship but when it comes to you, he completely shields you away from any interactions with the so called playboy. 

“When are you going to stop protecting me from boys?” Jin senses your frustration immediately. “I may be younger than you, but I’m also an adult just like you. An adult that can make her own choices.” You exhale slowly, “You’ve let me befriend your whole group and they’ve been nothing but wonderful to me, I don’t see the wrong in getting to know Jungkook.” 

Jin lets his guard down. You do have a point, maybe he was being a little too overprotective. He gives you a soft smile, you look away. 

“You’re right, I am in no position to dictate your decisions and who you choose to hang around with, it was wrong of me to treat you like that. Jin looks out into the pool, watching Jungkook tackle Taehyung. “I’m sorry I was a bit too harsh, Jungkook’s a good kid, he just got into the wrong crowd at first. Although, you gotta promise to tell me if he hurts you, cause he knows I’ll beat his ass.” 

You laugh accepting his apology, “are you sure about that? He’s a literal muscle pig.” You both begin to make your way outside and Jin shoves you slightly, “hey! You know I’m right.” Jin shakes his head and brings you into a comforting hug. “Yeah, yeah whatever.” He rolls his eyes, you beam up at him and together you walk out into the warm sunlight.

It hadn’t even been a second since you stepped outside, and already Yoongi’s long term girlfriend, Jieun is squealing your way. “Y/N! I’m so happy you're finally here, the amount of testosterone out here was starting to make me feel faint.” You giggle at her exasperated tone, pulling her into a tight hug. 

Nonchalantly you peel off your flowy sundress, it’s stickiness from your sweat making you cringe. “I missed you last week, why didn’t you come to class?” Jiuen pouts, “I'm sorry bub, I somehow caught a cold, but I trust you have some notes for me.” 

The way Jieun flutters her lashes at you innocently forces a roll from your eyes. Slathering sunscreen onto your arms, you reprimand her, “I swear you’re only using me for my notes, you literally never listen in class! Can you get my back please?”

She hums while you turn around, her small hands kneading sunscreen from your shoulder bones to the small dip in your back. Jieun continues to blabber on about the joys of life, not even checking if you’re listening to a single word she says. Instead your eyes are zeroed in on a certain someone.

Your staring is blatantly obvious but you don’t care. It’s only when Taehyung spots your burning gaze with a small smirk does he signal Jungkook to turn around to meet your flirty grin.  

Holy shit

The sun does a real great job of highlighting the gorgeous curves of your body adorned in quite possibly the smallest baby blue bikini he’s seen on a woman. Your breasts practically spill out of the tiny triangle cups and the pretty colour compliments your skin beautifully. 

Whilst Jungkook can admit you have one of the hottest bodies he’s seen in a while, his eyes surprisingly don't linger on your delicious curves for too long. Instead, he finds himself utterly enamoured by the way your eyes crinkle slightly when you smile prettily at him, your cheeks glowing with it. 

It suddenly dawns on him that you are the first girl that has truly enchanted him, and no, your ridiculously gorgeous body had little to do with it. 

Jungkook does not mind this change one bit. 

So, instead of staring at you like a gaping goldfish, he matches your flirtatious body language with a boyish grin and a small wave. His previous nerves dissipating only to be replaced by confidence and polished charm. He doesn’t want to scare you off with his sudden look of epiphany just yet, but the new unfamiliar feeling you give him is surely doing exactly that.

“My, my, Yoongi wasn’t lying.” Jieun stifles a giggle when she notices how Jungkook’s attention has steered towards you and only you. You’re quick to turn around, brows furrowed. “What are you on about?” 

“Oh you know… You and Jungkook”

You grimace, tired of the repeated topic of conversation. “Just because I sucked his dick once does not mean we're a thing” 

“Oh really? He’s asked me an awful lot of questions about you I was beginning to think otherwise”

“Wait, really?”

Jieun has the widest cheshire grin plastered on her face, it's starting to look quite unsettling.

“Really.”

You’re thoroughly shocked to say the least. You thought your fast, fleeting blowjob, sort of, was nothing special. A usual escapade to get his daily fill. Ordinary. Unmemorable.

However, it seems to be quite the opposite.

Jieun grabs your hand and swings it back and forth, exactly like a mother would do, although she’s merely two years older than you. “I know Jin’s been up your ass about Jungkook and frankly I don’t blame him he’s still a little shit from time to time but, he’s actually quite fun to be around and honestly I think his playboy tendencies seemed to dial down a bit since he met us.” The two of you giggle quietly amongst each other, quick feet making your way closer to the pool to avoid the scorching pavement.

Your toes are the first to dip into the pool and you practically moan at the cold water melting away the blistering haze that sticks onto your skin. The water is icy at your waist and you love it. “So my advice would be not to worry about him, instead it's his little army of plastic bimbos that you should watch out for.” 

“Ahh, internalised misogyny. We love to see it.” 

Jieun acknowledges you with a hum as the two of you float around the calming abyss. She then swims closer to you, nodding her head into the direction of a lonely Jungkook, who lazily stares at your alluring form. “I think your loverboy over there wants to talk to you.”

Jieun swims away before you can protest, leaving you to face the handsome man before you. His eyes are round and docile, yet his stare is tantalising, it pulls you in as if he’s slowly reeling you in with a rope. 

The water delicately ripples around your body when you approach him and you internally sigh in awe at the striking features of his stunning face. You want to use this opportunity to finally get to know him, and perhaps form a new friendship. 

You take note of the lack of Jin’s hawk-like eyes or for better the lack of any eyes on the two of you. You’re alone, huddled into one of the far corners of the pool, your conversation private, just for two pairs of ears. 

You open your mouth to speak, “So-”

“I-”

An uncomfortable silence stills the air and you both halt your words to giggle quietly amongst yourselves. God, this is awkward. 

“You go first”, You offer, tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook follows the subtle movement of your fingers before taking a deep breath. 

“I feel like we should discuss the elephant in the room”

You're stunned. “Huh?”

“You know… That Friday night?”

Of course you knew what he was referring too, yet you wondered why as you honestly didn’t think that night had much impact on the man. 

With a raised brow you ask, “What about it?”

“I’ve just had a lot of... thoughts”

You scratch your head feeling puzzled. You’re sure Jungkook has had better blowjobs in his lifetime. Hell, Jungkook did most of the work that night. “Do you usually discuss the past hookups you have, or am I just lucky today?”

You’re teasing him, nevertheless Jungkook tilts his head back towards the sky. All he wants is clarification, only this conversation is heading down an awkward path, so he decides to spit out what’s been bothering him for the past few days.

“Okay listen, I know this is odd to say, but ever since that night, It’s like I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your ego inflates at his statement and you smirk. You knew you could suck dick well, but according to Jungkook you seem to have quite the talent.

You smile proudly, “damn, look at me go, I can’t believe I have the campus playboy wrapped around my finger.”

Jungkook scoffs, both in annoyance and embarrassment because shit, he could have worded that differently, now he sounds like the clingy girls he fucks.

“Yeah, yeah let’s not pretend like I was the only one enjoying myself here. Weren’t you the one practically begging to be touched?” 

You’re amused. “Weren’t you the one who couldn’t make me cum. Yet came from their own handjob?”

Jungkook tongues his cheek and looks away. The way you speak so casually intimidates him. No girl has ever spoken to him this way, in fact, Jungkook’s the one who usually likes to tease. He can slowly feel the creeping heat alighting his cheeks and God does he hope you don’t notice.

You patiently wait for Jungkook’s reply, a sly grin adorned on your pretty face. However, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he frowns and immaturely splashes water at your face. 

“Jungkook!” You sputter, wiping at your face to rid of the chlorine in your eyes. “What the fuck was that for?”

He shrugs, “sorry my hand must’ve slipped”

You don’t take that for an answer, your petty nature crawling out as you splash him back harder than he had done. “Hand slipped, my ass.”

You cross your arms smugly, a small laugh blossoming out of your mouth when Jungkook cutely rubs at his eyes. 

It’s after a minute when you realise Jungkook hasn’t stopped furiously rubbing his eyes. The circular motions of his hand move so intensely that it begins to look painful and irritating. “Fuck, it stings”, he exclaims in agony.

Shit, you inwardly curse, gently touching his wrist, concern lacing your features because you didn’t think getting chlorinated water in one's eye would sting that much. You analyse his facial expressions closely and you wince at the redness surrounding his eyes from his harsh rubbing. 

On the contrary, Jungkook knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s competitive and won’t back down from a fight, even if it’s just fun banter, so he continues his little scheme just for the fun of it and hides his small grin under his large hands.

You’re now slightly panicked, “fuck, Jungkook I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit the water that hard I-”

Jungkook cracks.

Ever so slowly, he peeps his eyes out at you and watches with a mischievous smirk as your face morphs from alarmed to annoyed in less than a millisecond.

You tighten your grip on his wrist and attempt to slap his hard chest with your free hand, however Jungkook’s reflexes are fast and he grasps your hand tightly, a teasing glint in his eye. 

“You little shit-”

All of a sudden a loud holler is heard from the front door, rousing a relaxed Jin out of his chair as he sprints while simultaneously yelling at the ruckus being made. It’s then a stampede of both familiar and unfamiliar faces come crashing in. Some jump straight into the pool to cool off from the blazing sun while others rush to the table of assorted alcohol, desperate to get an ounce of it in their system.

Word seemed to go around about Jin’s supposed small get-together unbelievably fast, causing the once tranquil Kim Seokjin into a raging volcano. 

You’re pressed right up against Jungkook’s solid chest and he surprisingly pays you no mind, even though your perky tits are deliciously pushed up perfectly against his body. Jungkook’s eyes are not settled on them, rather he pays close attention to the amount of people dangerously plunging into the pool at a fast rate.

Jungkook protectively hugs your shoulders to shield you from the rowdy party goers who definitely do not understand the definition of personal space. Your heart swells when he then delicately places your head in the crook of his neck and wraps an arm around your fairly exposed body, essentially guarding you from frantic wet limbs and ignorant individuals.

You feel comfortable and safe, so comfortable that you wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while if it weren’t for the throng of college students delving into the cooling water. 

Jin’s house begins to fill with unexpected guests very quickly and you wonder how Jin is handling the situation. You suppose not very well when you see him whipping people with towels, red ears making an appearance and his booming voice following him.

Jungkook wants to get out and he’s sure you feel the same way which is why he smoothly slots his hand into your own, long fingers wrapping around your hand to carefully pull you through the growing crowd of people in the pool.

Whilst pushing past a variety of college students you are met with many stares, even worse, numerous envious eyes and whispers of possible gossip. You try your best to avoid their gazes, the hard stares reminding you of the last time Jungkook held your hand to push through groups of people. 

Water drips down the curves of your body and lands in little pools around you when you step out of the pool. At this point you’ve garnered even more turning heads that examine every inch of your skin closely. Their stares itch your skin and you feel akin to an animal kept in a zoo enclosure, curious eyes breaking down your confidence, you want to hide. 

You usually like to pride yourself on your confidence because you know you’re hot and you know your worth. It had taken many failed relationships to build up your self love and nourish the scars and memories of questioning if you’re good enough. 

You fight on and squeeze Jungkook’s hand, mostly for some sort of reassurance. It shocks you when he astonishingly squeezes back and softly rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s almost as if he knows how you’re feeling. 

You glance up at him shyly. Jungkook keeps his eyes straight ahead. He smiles a different kind of smile than the one he had directed to you a few hours ago. His lips are in a permanent smug smirk. His usual playboy smile. He flashes it at everyone as if he’s asking for their approval and even goes in to high-five a few people who are unrecognisable to you. You soon realise that this is what Jungkook thrives on. People, validation and his notorious reputation he’s created for himself.

Jungkook lights up at the presence of crowds, flirty smiles and people calling his name, whereas you want to crawl into your skin and run away because from the perspective of outsiders it looks like you’re just another one of Jungkook’s flings that will soon be forgotten by next week.

Well, you hope you won’t turn out to be one of them.

At last you find yourself away from the heart of the party, your dress in hand but your body still wet nonetheless. Jungkook is in the same state as yourself, droplets of water dribbling from his dark hair and onto the timber flooring. He leans into your ear, “I’ll go get us some towels, stay here.”

He’s gone before you can reply, making small conversation when he passes by various people, his boisterous laugh echoing down the halls. 

You’re alone now, and defenceless at that. There’s not many people you know here, besides the few odd people you share a class with and some sleazy frat boys that hold a similar reputation to Jungkook. You want to find Jieun so you can hug her or maybe ask her if she can take you home, but she is nowhere to be found.

Fuck, You remember leaving your bag on the kitchen table, unsupervised with many personal belongings stowed away inside. Using your dress to cover the most of your exposed skin like a blanket, you stride over to the kitchen and sigh in relief when you find your bag untouched and in perfect condition.

Snatching up your bag, you grab your phone and immediately text Jieun to find out where the fuck she’s hiding, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s probably fucking Yoongi somewhere. Traitor.

Jungkook finds you to be in a completely different part of the house than where he asked you, one towel wrapped around his neck and the other draped over his arm. You haven’t noticed him yet, your frantic fingers texting a treacherous Jieun, “princess, didn’t I tell you to stay put?”

You’re startled. Switching your phone off you stick your arm out, waiting for Jungkook to pass you the towel but he doesn't. Jungkook gently pushes your shoulders so that you turn away from him and carefully wraps the towel around your body like a cape. You hold the edges of the fabric to help him hug the towel around yourself, keeping it tighter to your body.

Your voice is quiet, “thank you.”

Jungkook leans down to meet your face, “What was that?”

Even though Jungkook had been in the pool longer than you, his cologne still sticks to his skin and you kind of want to breathe more of it in, but that would be weird.

“Oh, I said thank you.”

You’re close to him again, although this time he towers over you with a look almost identical to a predator meeting its prey.

Jungkook’s eyes flirt around your face and descend. He shamelessly drinks up the swell of your breasts and whatever skin is visible amidst the fluffy towel around you. It’s strange. You had noticed Jungkook doing the exact same thing when you were alone with him. The difference though was that his looks were cursory as if he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Now, It's like a new persona had taken over him and he was ready to pounce at any sign of a green light. 

He’s stuck in a trance, fuckboy tinted glasses fogging his vision.

You force out a giggle and playfully shove his shoulder, “my eyes are up here, you know.” 

His reply comes lighting fast, he’s definitely been in this position before. “I know, just admiring them.”

Jungkook wants to hit himself the second his reply spewed out of his mouth. He desperately wants to reassure your unimpressed (though also very cute) face, because goddammit he wanted to be respectful. Jungkook knows he has a tendency to slip into a new personality when the right amount of people hyped him. Call it being two faced, he knows it's one of his fatal flaws. 

“I'm sorry.” 

He says it genuinely. 

Jungkook only just got to properly meet you, he doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression! He can admit, your first ever official meeting (moreso hookup) wasn’t ideal, yet the way Jin dragged him through the mud undoubtedly made him understand that you weren’t the type of woman that should ever undergo the treatment he puts his hookups through. Scratch that, any woman shouldn’t be treated the way Jungkook treats them.

You're now fully covered under the towel, not a sliver of skin on display. You don’t know if his apology was genuine. “It’s ok I guess, I expected nothing less from you anyways.”

“Right.” He’s messed up.

You clear your throat, “I’m gonna go get changed, maybe look for Jieun unless-”

Jungkook finishes your sentence, “-she’s fucking Yoongi.”

You exhale, “yeah.”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

The voice makes you halt at its familiar tone. Jungkook doesn’t notice your growing panic as he too freezes in his spot. 

No, it can’t be.

The world plays in slow motion when he walks into your line of vision. His assertive stride, smug smile and sharp eyes.

Jeong Suho.

His name explodes inside of you like a blistering fire yet your heart feels ice cold. He is the very man you have spent weeks trying to avoid and even more trying to get out of your head.

The world plays at a normal speed when he approaches Jungkook. Their facial expressions are the same, the way they greet each other is the same. They’re practically the same breed of fuckboy, born from the same mother.

“Been awhile since I’ve seen you around.”

Jeong Suho was a person that Jungkook didn’t really mind, In fact there was a point in Jungkook’s life where he would’ve considered Suho to be one of his closest friends. They were two peas in a pod freshmen year of college. Never giving a fuck about their education and always present for any opportunity to get completely wasted with as many girls they could possibly seduce. Nowadays, Jungkook would rather keep his distance from him.

On the contrary, you were one of the many girls that had fallen deeply for Suho’s alluring charm. You fell so hard, you thought that maybe just maybe there was a possibility that you could secure a future with him. Obviously that was not the case.

You thank your lucky stars that Jungkook was there to distract Suho while you make your haste escape. All you need to do now is somehow locate an unoccupied bathroom, preferably without having to walk in on someone getting it on, and then you could get the hell out of there.

You must admit, you look quite ridiculous right now. Navy blue towel wrapped tightly around your body, your small head peeking through. You could probably pass as some form of E.T cosplay right now. You don’t care if you look rude, pushing and shoving whoever stands in your way. You only have one goal and you’re so so close to succeeding-

“Wait, Y/N! Is that you?”

Fuck.

Do you run? Maybe duck behind some poor innocent student looking for a good time? You huff, you're already sticking out like a sore thumb, there’s no use in trying to hide when the enemy has already spotted you. Even worse Jungkook motions you over with a wide gleaming smile. If only he knew how much you’re dreading this interaction.

Grudgingly, you walk over, looking like an irritated gremlin with your towel still firmly secured around you. Jungkook makes matters worse by pushing the towel off your head, releasing your scruffy ball of hair. You grimace. 

“I didn’t know you knew Y/N?”

Suho sends a smirk your way. You however, glower.

“Yeah we go way back, don’t we baby?”

You force a tight lipped smile, howbeit you look as if you have a mild case of constipation. 

“Sure.” It comes out rough through gritted teeth.

Suho notes your frustration, a sly grin carving onto his punchable face. He turns towards Jungkook, seemingly blocking you from their conversation, yet you know Suho wants you to hear what he has to say.

“You know it’s a shame. Y/N’s gorgeous, ten outta ten body, knows how to put it to good use, however she never let me fuck her. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

Jungkook stays silent for a minute, eyeing your shaking fists and angry eyebrows. Jungkook may be dumb, but he sure knows how to read a room, thus leading him to the conclusion that your relationship with Suho isn’t something you’re very fond of and that he should probably get you out of here.

“Uhhh no, that’s not weird at all actually. What I think is weird is the fact that you think you have this sick claim on every girl you’ve defiled and even worse, you’ve always had this strange need to chase after every virgin you see like some perverted cherry picker. Yeah, that’s weird.”

Suho laughs right in his face, spit grossly tickling his skin. “That’s rich coming from you Jeon, weren't you quite the cherry picker in your freshman days, no?”

Jungkook doesn’t know what he expected from this conversation. It definitely wasn’t this.

It's obvious that Jungkook isn’t a saint, he really fucking far from it. Although, one thing's for sure, it’s his absolute hatred for the way his brain was wired in his freshman year of college. Yes, Jungkook still remains as one of the standing campus fuckboys but he’s gained a few more brain cells since then. 

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, only to be met with Suho’s back as he turns his attention towards you.

“Y/N, darling if I were you i’d make a run for it, ya know keep your chastity intact or whatever.” His smile is saccharine sweet, though his words are sickly sour.

The months of pent up anger stored within your being bubbles and overflows like a bad science experiment. You’ve quickly decided that now’s that time to expose the shitty excuse of a man, and quite frankly you don’t care that you have an audience. Actually, an audience would make this all the better.

Your finger is strong, pointing accusingly at his broad chest. “You know what you stupid motherfucker? Don’t waltz in here with that dumb smile of yours when you know you have some disgusting cheesy infection growing down there.”

Suho’s eyes widen slightly. It was no secret he was a walking STD, just about infecting every girl that was naive enough to sit on his dick. 

Everyone at the party has definitely stopped to listen to what you have to say. You even spot Jin from the corner of your eye sending you a proud smile. “And while we're on the topic of cheese, Learn how to wash your fucking dick!”

You don’t let him have a moment to speak, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and pulling him out of the house.

A few people applaud, some girls praise you on your way out. You give them no mind, you’ve had enough for tonight.   

Jungkook starts his car, no questions asked. It’s obvious to him that there’s bad blood between you and Suho. What you don’t know is that Jungkook can also relate. 

Technically there was no bad blood between them, moreso the hurtful memories and manipulation Suho put him through. To put it simply, Suho was probably the worst influence Jungkook could ever have as a vunerable freshman. 

The crunch of gravel and soft melodies that spill out of Jungkook’s radio converse with eachother and fill the defeaning silence that sits between you and Jungkook. 

Jungkook doesn’t even know where he’s going, he just drives. 

Every so often he checks up on you from the corner of his eye. Your knees stick tightly together and point away from him. Your fingers curl and uncurl, leaving cresent moons in your skin. And to finish it off, your face remains still, hostility completely washing over your features. If Jungkook didn’t know any better he would think you’d jump out of his car and make a run for it at the chance of him stopping the car.

It’s seven sniffles later when Jungkook decides he knows where he should take you.

The night sky is clear and the stars burn brightly to accompany the full round moon. It’s the perfect setting for release and maybe a screaming session if you’re up for it.

Jungkook makes a stop behind a forest of tall trees and a dirt path. You sit up immediately. 

“Where are we?” Your eyes are rimmed with tears, “I want to go home.”

Jungkook shuts the engine off, “you never told me where you live.”

“Well you never asked!”

Maybe you shouldn’t have yelled because from the looks of it, Jungkook just wants to help you out and clearly you’re not being the friendliest right now. 

You curl back into yourself, “sorry”, another sniffle.

Jungkook brings your fists into his hands and warmly opens them up. You refuse to look at him, it doesn’t deter Jungkook one bit.

Tenderly he brings a finger under your chin, gradually bringing your eyes up to his. Jungkook takes his time with you, careful to not set you off until you’re face to face with his warm eyes. 

“I brought you here because it’s apparent we both need let out some pent up steam.” He drags his fingers delicately across the curve of your chin and back into his lap. His touch is fleeting, you miss it already. “I just thought you may want to vent or just shout out into the void, it’s up to you.” You nod, fully trusting Jungkook’s intentions. “And at any time you feel like going home just say the word and I’ll take you there, okay?” 

Your heart swells in adoration at his caring nature, though you can’t help but wonder how he can have such a sudden change in personality depending on where he is and who he’s with. It’s unnerving. 

Jungkook clicks his seatbelt off and heads out the car, “put your dress back on princess, I’ll be out here waiting for you.” You mutter your confirmation and do as he asks.

The cool summer air kisses your skin and runs through your hair as you step out of the car. Jungkook is already by your side dressed in an oversize hoodie with another in his hand as well as a fuzzy blanket. 

Jungkook steps closer to you, holding the hem of his hoodie to slip over your body. Without a second thought you raise your hands causing Jungkook to chuckle at how cute you look dwarfed in his clothes.

The same cologne you smelled on his skin earlier lingers on every fibre of fabric around you. His scent is everywhere, swirling around your head, instantly calming down your anxieties. You smile at him, “Lead the way Jungkook.”

Jungkook leads you up a small hill and you notice the trees opening up to display a lush field of grass. However, the sight before you leaves you in absolute wonder. You stand completely still and take it all in. 

The night sky is dark but the city below illuminates is beautifully. Your gaze bounces over all the buildings, skyscrapers and their dazzling bright lights. It’s peaceful up here, you decide as you take a glimpse of the hundreds of tall structures looking so tiny, so ant-like.

Jungkook is settled behind you, his legs comfortably folded underneath himself. He remembers what it was like the first time he saw the view, which is why he doesn’t blame your stunned silence and glazed eyes. 

“How did you find this place?”

You find your way towards Jungkook and plant yourself right beside him. “I don’t know, I was just driving aimlessly one night and found it, It’s nice right.”

You hum, “it’s beautiful.”

Jungkook murmurs in agreement as you lie down on the woolly blanket beneath you. The stars twinkle and glimmer amongst the deep blue sky, creating a serene experience. You shut your eyes.

“I hate him.”

Jungkook looks down at you, you don’t see him though. “Suho?”

“Yeah”, you exhale deeply, “I can’t believe I had to see him again.”

Although Jungkook knows you can’t see him, he swivels his body around to face you properly. “Did you guys date or something?”

You scoff, “pffft you know Suho doesn’t date anyone.” You open your eyes, meeting a pair of round docile ones. You continue, “Suho was the first guy who every gave me an ounce of attention. Before him guys never looked my way. Jungkook remains silent, letting you pour out what’s on your mind.

“Suho had me fooled, I thought I was special to him, thought he saw something in me that was different from the others. Turns out that was his game after all”

You speak so animatedly, your hands wave around in the air, your eyebrows scrunch when the memories come back to you. “It’s stupid really, how I used to gush to him about finding the one person in the universe that was created just for me. I guess he used this as my weak point.” 

Inhale, exhale. 

“He made me believe he was that special person for me, used it as an excuse to pressure me into sex.” A tear rolls down the side of your face, falling perfectly in a straight line. “I almost gave in, but something just felt so wrong. Every time I said no he would call me terrible names, tell me that no one would want me if I never gave them what they wanted. And I believed him.”

Another tear escapes your wet orbs, Jungkook is there to wipe it this time.

“I broke it off after I found out he fucked my roommate and gave her some disease.” You chuckle, “I guess I’m lucky I never let him fuck me huh?” 

Jungkook’s heart breaks at your saddened eyes and the way Suho treated you, he sweeps a stray hair out of you face. “I think you dodged a bullet there princess, what he did to you was pure evil, no one, and especially you don’t deserve that”

You sit up, wiping remaining tears and thanking him as you go, “It’s your turn now.” You pat his thigh, “tell me why Suho got you so riled up tonight.”

Jungkook shuffles in his spot, “It’s actually kind of similar to you.”

You gasp sarcastically, “no way he pressured you into sex too?”

He laughs, eyes squeezing shut, “No, no, nothing like that.”

You lean closer to Jungkook, giving him the same attention he had given you. “My father left when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, so growing up I had no male figure present in my life. My mother stopped at nothing to give me that to the point that almost every week I’d wake up and see a new man drinking out of my favourite mug. I didn’t mind it because I was only a child and some part of me always hoped they would stay, but they never did.”

“My mom was a hopeless romantic. She held so much sentimental and idealistic views on love that it stuck to me. She always told me that there was someone special out there just for me.” You smile at the similar belief, Jungkook sighs. 

“Cut to college, Suho was the first friend I made. I had no experience with girls whatsoever, and I still held on to my mother’s faith. Whenever I talked to Suho about it he would always shut me down or make fun of me.”

“He told me that all my feelings are bullshit, and that I only felt that way because I’ve never hooked up with anyone before. Next thing I knew we were going to parties every week getting absolutely shitfaced and fucking every girl I laid eyes on.”

You nod, listening intently. “And tonight, he hit a nerve. What he said made me realise that I’m just as bad as him. He moulded me into this person and now I have a reputation.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop, “he broke my concept of love before I even got to experience it.”

You never knew Jungkook was in a place like this. You always thought he was like Suho, built to break hearts and show no emotion when it came to love. Jungkook was nothing like that. His heart was truly big, desperately longing for someone.

Placing your hand on top of his own you comfort him as best as you can, “oh, Jungkook, trust me when I tell you this, the love in your heart is not broken. Think about it, most people you’ve met have been through college right?” He nods, “there are so many other people out there that you’ve never met, soon you’ll be able to find that someone and learn how to love. I know you present yourself as this emotionless playboy, but once you let that part of you go it’ll feel so freeing.”

Jungkook stares deeply into your eyes, he’s so thankful that he decided to bring you here, he can’t contain his happiness. 

“Can I like, hug you?” Jungkook asks shyly. You smile, and it’s so big and bright Jungkook might as well be staring at the sun. Before he knows it, you’re tackling him into the most wholesome hug he’s ever had. You’re warm and you smell like vanilla, It feels like home.

“Get up”, he says abruptly, extending his arm to pull up your confused self.

“What-”, Jungkook cuts you off, “have you ever just let yourself scream?”

Jungkook has intertwined your hands together, and your heart pounds at the realisation of how well they fit together. “Well, no but I assume that’s what we’re about to do right now.”

He pulls you closer to the edge of the small hill, the view of the city sparkles right in front of you. “On the count of three, one- two- three!”

You scream, you let it all out and God does it feel refreshing.

The two of you sound utterly insane, but none you give a single fuck. You scream until your lungs burn and your throat itches you to stop.

The volume of both of your voices ring out into the night sky only for the moon, stars and yourselves. The night is still young but Jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way.

With you he lets go of everything, all the past mistakes, all the hurt because at this moment he feels like he could fly, soar into the clouds. 

He feels infinite.

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[kiribaku-queen]

Sexercise [18+]

TW: rough sex, multiple partners, overstimulation, oral sex, penetration, spanking, choking, hair pulling, smacking (face), fingering, bruising

Word count: 6.8K

Summary: When you go to a new gym for special workouts but you aren't getting your needs met. Your trainer is here to help, offering special sessions to help get both of your sexual frustrations out.

A/N: Okay, shit writing BUT just think about the concept. I took the liberty of writing this piece because I couldn't get it out of my head!! This collab was really fun to do! Although stressful, I would love to do it again! Check out all the other writer's work for this collab! They are all so talented and just W O W

Inspired by the Korean Webtoon: Sexercise! It's actually really good and I was so obsessed with it. Here's my version but with Bakugou <3

Also, sorry if I tag the trigger warnings wrong >< I'm so new to this!

You stepped out of the freshly, hot shower, carefully drying every inch of your body before putting on the exercise clothes the gym had provided you.

You know. You didn’t bring your own clothes and the gym gave you some to wear? Well, this isn’t your typical gym.

It all started when you saw their promotion flyer hidden behind many others on the bulletin board on your way home. You’ve been meaning to get back to the gym and this one looked promising. A new form of exercise that’ll make you come back for more? Curiosity got the best of you and you headed to the gym to check it out.

Upon arriving, it looked like a regular gym. They had all the necessary equipment that you see in any gym. What’s so special about this gym? And what ‘new form’ of exercise were they talking about, you asked yourself.

“Hi, are you new here?” you hear a voice from behind you. You spun around to see a beautiful, fit woman greet you.

“Ah, yes I’m actually looking to sign up for that new form of exercise written on this flyer,” you explained, showing the lady the flyer you picked up. She grabbed it from you, shocked and disbelief written all over her face.

“Who the fuck did this?” she grumbled under her breath. But she did it right in front of you so you heard everything she said. She didn’t sound too happy, by the way her eyebrows crunched in rage. Her reaction made you back away, feeling uncomfortable. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to come to this gym after all. The lady noticed how you were shifting in your stance and cleared her throat, fixing her posture to look professional.

“Sorry if I scared you,” she laughed embarrassedly. “We just don’t promote this gym very much so it was a surprise to see this flyer. I’m guessing you’re not familiar with the workouts we do here?”

“Uhm, not really,” you say shyly. She looks you up and down and thinks for a moment. Then, she goes behind her desk and pulls out this thick contract.

“Well, before we get started, I’m going to need you to sign this nondisclosure agreement and fill out your personal information here. After all this is completed, I can take you around for a tour!” she exclaimed. You were a bit reluctant to even sign this and was about to walk out the door. What kind of gym is this that you need to sign an NDA? But it couldn’t hurt right?

When you signed the last line of that NDA form, she took you on your tour right away. And that’s when you found out the through about this gym.

“Ah, fuck~!”

“HNGH, hah!”

“Good, I wanna see 10 more reps.”

This gym helps their members enjoy working out through the pleasure of sex.

So here you were, stretching your muscles out in your assigned room for your first session. You felt that familiar feeling at the bottom of your stomach due to nervousness and excitement. You’ve always loved having sex. Having multiple partners? Eh, not so much. But you’ve been single for way too long and it’s been a while since you’ve had a good sex experience. Plus, you’ve been meaning to start exercising again so this was such a perfect gym for you. You’re just hoping that it’ll meet your expectations.

You heard two voices coming in your direction. A muscular man with dark green hair and similar clothes to what you were wearing and an angry, blondie with a trainer outfit on were entering the room, chatting away like they knew each other.

“(y/n)?” the blonde one spoke up.

“Ah, yes. That’s me,” you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants and reached out your hand to shake the trainer’s hand.

“Bakugou. I’ll be your trainer today,” he introduced himself. His palm in yours felt so heavy andstrong. He gripped your hand firmly, but only for a second and let go, his presence leaving you empty. Who knew that someone could have that kind of effect on you. You wanted so badly to take his large hands and have them roam all around your bod- You shook your head out of these naughty thoughts. What were you thinking? Sure, you were having sex but this was your workout, not some hookup. Plus, he’s your trainer. He’s not the one you were going to have sex with. It was that handsome hunk beside him.

“Introduce yourself,” Bakugou nudged the man. The green-haired man gave you a shy smile and a small wave.

“Midoriya Izuku. Most people call me Deku, but you can call me by what makes you most comfortable,” Deku says. You smile. His personality and demeanor reminded you of a puppy. But not a small puppy. He was more like a Great Dane: sweet but large in size. Looking at both of them now, they were both very muscular, almost towering over your small figure. You looked over at your trainer who was writing something down on his clipboard. Now he was very attractive. He’s got the face, the voice, the body. God, he was your type. Your partner was also good looking. No matter how much you wanted to have this session with someone else, your partner will do for now. With a build like that, you were sure you were going to enjoy this sex session.

“Alright, (y/n). Since this is your first time here, I’ll run over the basics. Before every session, each partner will give the other a massage to loosen up. If you could lay on the mat, please,” he instructs, pointing over to the mat that was laying on the floor.

You nodded in understand, laying on your stomach and resting your chin on your arms. Deku comes up behind you, sitting on top of the back of your legs. You jump in surprise, but Deku hushes you and gently pushes you back down.

“I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry,” he leans down to whisper in your ear.

Deku starts his massage by pressing both of his thumbs in the middle of your back, going up your spine. You almost let out a moan of pleasure from how good you felt. His large hands felt amazing on your back. Damn, forget about the sex. You’ll gladly be content with this. His hands skillfully rubbed your entire back, switching between a firm and soft pressure. You definitely felt relaxed and comfortable now. So this is why they start off every session with a massage. You were about to fully succumb to his touch, that is, until your trainer interrupted you.

“Okay, you can switch now. Sir, please lay on your stomach,” he instructed. Ah, right. You were still being talked through everything by Mr. Grumpy Pants here. Deku was used to this, so he laid down and you were the one to get on top now.

You started your massage off slow. Your touch was soft and gently, trying to touch every part of his body and get him to relax as much as possible. You tried copying a few of his moves, improvising here and there. So far, so good. You could feel Deku’s muscles loosen under you and he sighed in satisfaction.

“Alright, sir. Now I’m gonna have you lay on your back. Ma’am, go ahead and massage his chest,” Bakugou instructed. Swiftly and skillfully, Deku maneuvered his body around so that you were straddling his waist from the front.

“Oh!” you made a sound of surprise. You could have gotten up and let him take his time turning around, but he had his own plans. You could tell he’s done this many times before.

You were shy about giving him the massage at first. It’s not the first time you’ve touched a man’s chest, but it was your first time giving a massage with the man looking at you with such intense eyes. Deku’s hands were crossed behind his head, enjoying the show he was given. His eyes never left yours for a second, making sure he mapped every inch, every curve of your body and imprinted in his brain. You didn’t know where to look. While he was staring at with you eyes of lust, you were looking anywhere else but him; his chest, the floor, your hands. How could you concentrate when he’s looking at you like that?

You couldn’t help but shift in your position to get more comfortable, but in doing so, you sat right on his crotch. A bolt of electricity shot through your body when you felt his hard on growing larger with each passing second. It took you everything in your power not to moan right then and there. You didn’t want to look desperate so soon in the session. But Deku was making it so hard. Bakugou looked up from his clipboard to see a very obvious tent in the male’s pants.

“Hard already? It’s only the beginning of the massage,” Bakugou pointed out. Deku smirks and puts one hand on your thigh, caressing firmly.

“What can I say? She’s a beautiful girl,” Deku compliments. Bakugou doesn’t respond to his comment and instead, instructs him to do something else.

“Sir, please massage her breasts in this position,” Bakugou says. Without hesitation, Deku gropes your breasts with his massive hands. Every time he squeezed a bit too tightly, every time he readjusts his pose, it was all driving you mad. The heat between your thighs was telling you that you wanted, needed, to be touched. You bit your lips to stop another moan from coming out. Deku takes notice of your small action and decides, with a devilish smirk, to take matters into his own hands. He grabs a hold of your waist and juts his hips upwards so that his boner rubbed against your sopping, wet cunt. With so much force he put into that thrust, your body got pushed forward, allowing Deku to grab your breasts even more tightly. Finally, that long awaited moan escapes your lips.

“There we go,” Deku whispers, continuing his movements. You closed your eyes, enjoying the friction he was supplying you with. But before anything could get too heated, Bakugou, once again, interrupts.

“You probably already know what to do but I’ll explain just in case,” Bakugou starts, putting down his clipboard and goes to the draw that was sitting on the side. He brings out a bottle of oil and kneels behind you. “May I?” he asks while pointing to your top.

“Ah, yes,” you softly say. With his rough, calloused hands, he rakes his fingers up your side before removing your top. Your breasts spill out with a flop, making Deku’s eyes widen in thirst. Bakugou disregards his reaction, continues to put oil on his hands and starts to massage your breasts.

“Be careful when massaging women’s breasts. You don’t want to be too rough that it hurts or too soft that she can’t feel anything. The closer you get to the nipple, the more sensitive she is so be careful when touching them,” Bakugou explains. Like a pro, he starts to play around and twists your sensitive nipples. But just like in his explanation, he used different pressures in different areas to give you the ultimate pleasure. You moan in ecstasy, allowing yourself to submit to his touch. The back of your head landed on his shoulder and you just laid it there while he played with your breasts. Bakugou chuckled softly in your ear and gently pushed you up.

“Okay, give it a try,” he was addressing Deku. Deku nodded with excitement, eager to continue the session. Bakugou guides you to your partner, but his touch lingered on your back for a second too long. You looked back at your trainer and made eye contact with those fiery, crimson eyes. But your attention was stolen by the green-haired man under you. Deku had this talk to many times before that he goes right in to touch your soft, naked tits. It doesn’t take long for his tongue to find its way to your nipple. His wet tongue sliding against your sensitive buds excited you and only made you want more. You started griding your hips downwards to meet his upwards thrusts.

Very quickly, the chemistry between you two started getting more heated. Clothes were coming off one by one. Deku moves so that he is sitting up while you straddle. You cupped his face and brought him in for a kiss. As you guys were making out, you pull his shirt up to reveal part of his abs. At first, you just wanted to tease and feel his body but your horniess was off the charts and just touching caused you to want more of him.

For a moment, Izuku separates from you to take his shirt off and then his lips are right back on yours. Then he leans you back so you’re laying on your back and he’s leaning over you. He quickly disposes of his clothes and then rips your pants off. He sees that you’re already so wet and don’t need prepping. Neither does Deku apparently. When you looked down, he dick was so erect that precum was already leaking out.

Deku leans over you, panting slightly from your make out session, and lines his dick up with your entrance while pumping it a few times. Before he’s right about to stick it in, Bakugou slaps the back of his head. A now agitated Deku springs up, but before he could say anything, Bakugou just throws a condom at him.

“Slow down. Don’t forget that this is an exercise session. Now I want to see 50 reps,” Bakugou scolded.

“Fuckin hell,” he complains. He looks back at you and smirks. “Ready?” You nod eagerly wanting more than anything to just be fucked right now.

Deku slides his throbbing cock inside your long awaited pussy and you swear you could see stars. The stretch from his thick, veiny dick felt so amazing that your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Deku stayed still to let you adjust to his size. The feeling of being stuffed by a fat cock, and by a handsome guy at that, is already making your pussy clench tightly around him.

Deku lets out a sigh of pleasure and starts thrusting. The numbing feeling caused all his hairs to stand on end.

God, when he put his dick in, man did it feel good. But as soon as he started fucking you, you didn’t feel fully… satisfied. The initial stretch was the best feeling you’ve had yet. For some reason, the sex didn’t feel as good as you wanted it to be. Maybe you were too into your head? Maybe you just had to relax and just have a good time. But that was hard to do when your partner was whispering the countdown to himself.

There was no doubt that Izuku was enjoying his time with you, but he was so concentrated on the 50 reps that he wasn’t thinking about making you feel good. He thrusted inside you, not taking into consideration of where inside you he was hitting. Heat rushed to your cheeks in embarrassment. This wasn’t what you had in mind for your first session. You felt bad that you weren’t enjoying it, but you didn’t want to show it. With each snap of his hips, you forced out a moan to make it believe that you were having a good time. Every now and then, you’d let out a bigger, more convincing moan to change it up a bit.

This sucks. What’s the different between this and having sex with some stranger after a night out? They both can’t hit the right spot. He isn’t even going the speed you want him to. You wanted to be pounded into. You wanted him to fuck you so hard and so rough that you can’t walk the next morning. You wanted him to leave dark bruises all over your body but he wasn’t giving it to you.

You started getting bored midway through his reps and opened your eyes to look around the room. Maybe you could entertain yourself some other way while Deku was having his fun. You happened to look at your trainer who was looking at his own clipboard. He wasn’t even paying attention to you guys at all. He was writing down notes. What was he really writing though? Bakugou glanced away from his notes and made eye contact with you for a quick second. It was only for a second but it was enough to make you feel embarrassed that you got caught. You immediately closed your eyes to pretend that that small little eye contact didn’t happen.

“…48…49….50!” Izuku finally finished, giving you a nice, deep, hard thrust to finish it all off. That was good, but not enough. You eventually got fed up and flipped him over so that now you were on top. You were going to ride him until you were satisfied and full. But before you could lower yourself onto him, Deku holds your shoulders to stop you. He became a little flustered that you decided to take control because this wasn’t a part of the session. He looked at Bakugou for approval and he sighed, but eventually nodded his head.

“We can change it up,” Bakugou allowed. “But, (y/n). Now I want to see 50 reps from you.” He instructed.

“Yes sir,” you replied quickly. You just wanted him inside you, you didn’t have time for this chit-chat. So slowly but surely, you lowered yourself onto his dick, gasping the way he filled you up. You were able to fully sit, his dick disappearing completely inside you. The tip finally hit you where you wanted. Using your heels as leverage, you moved in the way you wanted. You made sure that pull all the way out before slamming into his dick again, loving the way he just fills you up. You loved how you were in control, shaking your ass up and down, hearing your sloppy cunt slap against his skin, how wet it must be down there.

God, but you wanted more. You guided Deku’s hands to grab your ass but all he does it grab onto it. Maybe a squeeze here and there. He was so entranced in the sex, his head was tilted back with his eyes shut closed, constant moans escaped his mouth. He loved the feeling of your pussy clenched around him to even think about anything. But you bit your lip in frustration. You didn’t want his hands just laying on you. You wanted him smack it with as much force as he could. He could put those muscles to use and man handle you a little. But you were here to fend for yourself. A visible pout was permanent on your lips but your partner wasn’t able to see it because he was enjoying himself below you.

But your trainer did. Bakugou was paying close attention to you. From the moment Izuku’s cock entered you to your little pout, he noted every movement and every expression you made. He raised an eyebrow, noting that small action and saving it for later.

Deku’s moans were growing louder and more inconsistent. He bucked his hips up, trying to be in motion with you but was getting sloppier by the second. It soon became too much for him and hot, white cum exploded inside the condom.

“Fuuuuck,” Izuku let out one last breath and flopped his arm out in exhaustion. He took a minute to catch his breath while you were getting off him and already started cleaning yourself up. Dammit, you didn’t even cum.

You were gathering your belongings, meanwhile, Izuku was chatting it up with Bakugou again. Before he leaves, Izuku comes up to you, places a hand on your lower back and gave you a genuine smile.

“Thanks for the amazing session,” he said. You gave him your best, fakest smile.

“Back at ya,” you reply. Your smile dropped the moment you turned around and you sighed in annoyance. You hated to think that you’d have to go home to finish yourself off but it looks like that’s exactly what you were going to have to do. Bakugou came up behind you and cleared his throat, causing you to jump in place.

“How was your first session?” he asked. You took a sip of your water to give it a bit of thought. Was this a fun experience? Oh, most definitely. Would you do it again? Probably. Did you cum? Hard no.

“It was good,” you lied. The experience was definitely new and refreshing but the sex was so mediocre that it was almost a little boring. But you couldn’t tell your trainer that. So you gave a sweet smile and picked up your bag. “I’ll see you at the next session!”

But the next session felt exactly the same as the first. You had a different partner this time. A big, scruffy dude with semi-long red hair that was pulled in a ponytail. He was just as built as Izuku, if not bigger. He had the cutest and sweetest personality. And just seeing him, you’d think this cute puppy would turn into a hungry wolf but you were wrong. As per usual.

Bakugou had made you kneel on this couch that he had provided. Kirishima was fucking you from behind but not hitting any of the right spots. His large hands were placed on your hips but they were glued there and he wasn’t touching you anywhere else.

Again, you faked your moans to mask the image of you not having a good time. Though, when you peeked behind you to get a look at your partner, he was in pure bliss. Eyes closed, mouth hung open, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, sweat trickling down his forehead. Damn, was it a sexy sight. At least he was having a fun time.

Every now and then, your mind would wander. It could be many things: you could think about what you were going to eat for dinner, or what your partner was like in bed with a lover, or if you forgot to turn the light off in your bathroom. Oh shit, what were you doing again? You opened one eye and Kirishima was focused solely on slamming his dick in your vagina. Sighing, you had to remind yourself that this was meant for exercise, not for pleasure. Although, it would be nice if you could feel nice too once in a while. Exercise was the prime reason you signed up but like… you thought it would be a win-win situation.

Your mind continued to wander for the rest of the session until you mind was set on a certain trainer you have the hots for. You could see his muscles through his tight fitted shirt, making him look even more buff than he already was. He looked so strong, you could only imagine what having sex with him was like.

You could imagine it now; face twisted in pleasure as he pounds into mercilessly, just like how you want it. You could feel that familiar butterfly feeling in the pit of your stomach just thinking about it. But then, you thought that he must be like all the other men; only chasing their own high instead of pleasuring their partner.

Session after session was exactly the same. You can pleasure that dick, but he can’t even find the clit. But honestly, you were okay with it because at least you could exercise while doing your favorite sport.

You were wiping yourself up after one session, drinking from a bottled water as your trainer, Bakugou, comes up behind you.

“How was the session?” Bakugou asked after your partner has just left the room. You took another sip of water before answering.

“Mhm, it was okay,” you tried your best to sound positive. You thought your conversation was going to end there, like it always has but something in Bakugou decided to investigate a little further.

“How do you really feel?” he questions you, stepping a little closer and observing your facial features for any lies. “I could tell that you weren’t enjoying it. Off day?” You put your water bottle away, thinking of how to respond to him. Did you really want to tell him how you were really feeling? You didn’t want to seem like a freak to him. Did you really want to tell him how you like to be choked, so much so that you feel like you can’t breath. Or that you want someone to just spank you until there’s bruises because you love the idea of being marked. Or that you want to feel stuffed to the brim but still beg for more?

“I just like it a little rough,” you explained. Bakugou nods his head and hums in understanding.

“I thought they were going pretty rough on you,” he thought. But you just groaned and rolled your eyes.

“I guess, but I want more!” you exclaim, letting out an exasperated sigh. “This is why I have such a hard time with my sex life because every guy is too busy chasing after their own high that they forget that I need to feel good too. Not every guy is into rough sex. I know that. But I just want someone to blow my back out for once! Like not holding back and just fuck me until I’m in tears… but one can only dream, right?” you chuckled at the end. You didn’t mean to go on a tangent but fuck it, why not? He’s your trainer anyway. He’s supposed to know everything about you if he wants to tend to your needs. Bakugou just looks at you in silence. You take that as a sign to continue.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. This whole program is fun and I really love the idea but just once in a while, I want to have good sex, too,” you continued to open up to your trainer. You finally turned your head to get a look at his reaction to your rant and you saw those crimson getting closer and closer to you until you were right under him, looking up. Your heart skips a beat having him so close to you. You could smell his burnt vanilla caramel cologne, his scent filling all of your senses at once.

“Then would you like a private session?” he asks you in a whisper, his head tilted down at you. You were so mesmerized by him that you followed his every move.

“With who?” you asked.

“Me.” He responded in that sexy, raspy voice of his.

“When?”

“Now.” Bakugou pushes you against the cold mirror as a form of intimidation. Bakugou knows that he shouldn’t be doing this. Taking advantage of your weakness, suggesting private sessions when he’s strictly not allowed to, especially not on company’s time. It was wrong. But he’s had his eyes on you since the moment you walked in the gym for the very first time. And when you said what you said earlier, it was practically fate that you became one of his students.

The cold mirror touching your back sent you into shock, but the warmness of his body touching your chest made up for it all. He tilts your chin up so you could look in his half closed eyes full of lust. And then you couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in for a hungry kiss. Your lips smashed together, causing your teeth to crash but you didn’t care. And neither did Bakugou because he was just as hungry as you, kissing you with the same amount of passion.

He wraps his arm your waist, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible at this point. With one swift handful of ass, he lifts you off your feet so that your legs were wrapped around his waist. The moment you became stable, Bakugou gives your ass a smack, making you jolt up.

“Mhm!” you made a surprised noise through the kiss but didn’t stop kissing him. God, you didn’t want to stop. When you came back down, you could feel his erection resting right on top of your clit. He carries you to one of the equipment stored in the room, a couch, while you grind on him, hopping to get more friction to stimulate your needs.

As soon as your back hit the couch, clothes were already being stripped off of you. There goes your shirt, then your sports bra. Finally, your pants. Last but not least, your lace panties that were already wet from your previous session are now even more soaked from his teasing. Wasting no time in discarding your panties, he pulls your waist I so that you’re laying flat on your back, your pussy right in his face I all of its glory.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me. I haven’t even done anything yet,” he says. You could feel his beath tickling your wet folds. He was so close yet so far. Just having his breath on you made your pussy clench over nothing. Bakugou puts his nose right on your clit, taking a good whiff of your after workout sex. God, it was intoxicating and he couldn’t wait to dig right in.

“Thank you for the food,” he says before completely devouring you. He took no time in exploring every fold, every inch of your pussy, eating you out like there was no tomorrow. He was rough around your entrance but soft and gentle around your clit. It was like light feather licks, barely touching you but sending you into sensory overload. When he got closer to your entrance, that’s when he started to get rough. Slurping and devouring your wetness, getting every last drop and leaving no leftovers.

Bakugou grabbed hold of your thighs, squeezing them and pulling your body even closer to his face so he could tongue fuck you. His tongue enters you, pushing its way through to get a better taste of your sweet cunt. At the same time, your mouth is hung open in pleasure, moans spilling out of your mouth and you couldn’t stop. Bakugou took this opportunity to stick three fingers in your mouth.

“Noisy bitch. Suck,” he commanded. And so you sucked on his fingers, like a little girl eating her lollipop. He only had three fingers in your mouth, but they were so thick that you couldn’t possibly put any more in. Yet you still covered his fingers in your thick saliva, making sure each finger was coated and wet enough so he could fuck you.

You looked up at him, purposefully making a sultry face, with your big, innocent eyes. You wanted to give him a small show, making sure that he was watching every move that you made. Your tongue found its way in between each finger, licking up and down, sucking each individual finger, and letting go with a loud ‘pop’. You got disappointed when Bakugou removed his hands from you mouth. But was pleasantly surprised when he stuck all three fingers in your throbbing cunt without warning. It’s not like you needed the prepping anyway when you were already soaking wet. Your back arched and chills ran down your spine. You didn’t know how this was possible, but the moment he entered his fingers, it was pure bliss. You already felt like you wanted to cum because he just managed to hit that magical spot in one go. You couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like when he fucks you with his fat cock.

“God, you’re so fucking tight. I can feel you clenching around me,” Bakugou watched as he slides his fingers in and out of your slick folds. He gives you a minute to adjust before picking up the pace. Every thrust of his hand, he keeps getting deeper and is always right the perfect damn spot. It was driving you mad. He hasn’t even fucked you yet and you were already a moaning mess. You couldn’t even form any words, you were such in a trance. It wasn’t before long until you had that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. The feeling gradually and rapidly escalated. Bakugou could feel it too: the way your walls clenched around his fingers a little too tight, he knew you were going to cum anytime soon.

“Bakugou~” you whined, holding onto his forearms for dear life. You needed to prepare yourself for this one.

“Gonna cum, princess?” Bakugou teased. You couldn’t answer him. More like you weren’t able to hear his question because you were so focused on this intense feeling that was going to explode any minute. Bakugou took his free hand and pushed your legs up so that they were pressed against your chest. He, then, leaned on them so weren’t able to move or squirm out of his grasp. And he went even faster, the sound of your juices was sinful.

“AH!” you screamed, letting your orgasm take over and wash over you. You thought he would stop once you had your first orgasm but he wasn’t stopping. He continued his fast pace. You wanted to make him stop, the overstimulation was getting too much for you. You tried moving your legs but Bakugou’s grip on you was nailed down. You weren’t going anywhere. You just had to take it but it still felt so good. The moment you felt like it was all too much to handle, Bakugou took his fingers out. And they were covered in a thick, white consistency. If he spread his fingers out, your cum would string along each finger. Bakugou didn’t hesitate to lick it all off with one swipe of his tongue.

“On all fours,” he demanded, standing up while pumping his cock for you. You didn’t have to be asked twice. Despite the numb feeling in between your legs, you enthusiastically got on your hands and knees, ready to be penetrated by your trainer. Bakugou gave your ass a small smack before lining his cock in front of your entrance. That small smack was enough for you to have hearts in your eyes. You let out a small mewl of delight and Bakugou smirked.

“Yeah? You like it when I smack your ass?” Bakugou asked.

“I love when you smack my ass. Please spank me again,” you begged. Bakugou took his hand and gave you cheek another blow, this time harder than the last. Bakugou made sure to look for any change in your expression, careful not to hurt you. But you wanted more. You wanted him to hit your harder.

“Spank me harder, sir,” you pleaded, moving lower so that your ass was hanging in the air. You wiggled your butt, wanting more from the strong blonde. He smirks even bigger, almost animalistic like.

“That’s a good girl,” his voice became raspy and wasted no time in giving you a nice, hard smack to your right cheek. You cried out in a pleasurable pain. You smiled into your moans, drool starting to come out from the sides of your mouth. The sound of his hand making contact to your bare cheek was so loud that it could be heard from outside the closed room. Bakugou spanked you until your cheek was red and raw from his large hands. This. This was what you wanted. This is what you’ve been wanting for so long and you were finally going to get it.

Oh sweetie, the main course hasn’t even started yet. How could you feel this good when he hasn’t even fucked you yet? You could feel the tip of his dick teasing your entrance. You wanted to lean into him yourself, not wanting to wait any longer, but Bakugou had a strong hold on your hips. He gave his cock a few more pumps before slowly sliding his cock inside your ready, wet pussy.

You both moaned in sync at the feeling: his fat cock throbbing inside you and your tight pussy clenching around his cock. Bakugou started thrusting at a good pace. But just like how his fingers felt, he was hitting that sweet spot of yours perfectly. Every thrust was making you see stars.

“Mhm~ Bakugou, faster!” you whined in between moans. Bakugou grabs a fistful of hair before pulling you up so that your back was arched.

“Needy, aren’t we? And what if I say no?” Bakugou asked in your ear. You just whimpered, reaching behind you to grasp his waist and force him to go faster as you try to back into him at the same time. Bakugou didn’t like this too much. He let go out your hair and went straight to your neck, cutting off your air momentarily.

“Did I say you could do that?” he questioned through gritted teeth. You quickly shook your head.

“No, sir,” you barely managed to say due to your lack of oxygen. He gave you another squeeze before a few smacks to the cheek.

“There we go. Now let’s try that again. What if I say no?” he asks again. You bit your lip trying to come up with an answer. But it was hard to think with a hand was at your throat.

“Please! God, I want you so bad. I want you to fuck me, please!” you practically screamed.

“Good girl,” he said and let go of your neck. You gasped for air, coughing in the process but Bakugou didn’t allow you to fully recover. He pounded into you with no mercy. You couldn’t stop your ahego expression from happening, your tongue hung out and your eyes crossed.

He stopped pounding into you to slowly slide his cock fully out of you before slamming into you again. It felt heavenly but a naughty thought came to your mind. You were probably going to get punished for it later, but you were feeling rebellious in the moment. When he slide his cock out, before he could enter you again, you got up and pushed him on the couch. Midair, Bakugou sensed what you were doing. So instead of being victorious and pining him down, he flipped you so that you were pined against the couch, your hands pined above your head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he gets close to you. You giggle and look away playfully.

“Not playing by the rules,” you laughed. Bakugou couldn’t help but break a smile as well.

“Naughty, naughty. I’ll show you who’s the dominant one,” he said and smashed his cock back inside you, not giving you time to breath or adjust to him in this new position.

You could feel another wave coming and it was fast approaching. Bakugou was being even more vocal now, huffing and groaning into your neck. His hips rutted into you sloppier each second and more frantic. He was getting close too.

You whined loudly, not being able to hold onto anything as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami so you arched your back and fumbled with your legs. The clenching of your walls caused Bakugou to reach his limit. He pulled out, spraying his cum all over your stomach and chest. His hot cum felt sticky on your skin. Despite being covered in his specimen, Bakugou pulled you close to his sweaty body, your foreheads resting together while you both catch your breath.

You entered the gym with a smile and a skip to your walk. You got a little surprised when you saw that your trainer and new partner were inside the room before you. Puffing out a cheek in disappointment, you scold yourself for not leaving earlier. You were always early to get a good stretch in. But as soon as you saw your handsome trainer, a smile came back to your face.

You rushed to his side, jumping into his arms and giving him a kiss on the lips.

“Hi, baby!” you greeted him. He smiles back at you.

“Ready for your session?” he asks and you just give him a lovey dovey smile and a nod.

“Ah, this is one of my good friends. He’ll be your partner for today,” Bakugou sets you down to introduce you to yet another partner. The two toned hair guy gives you a shy wave.

“Todoroki. You can call me Shouto,” he introduces himself. Aw, he seems really sweet. Shy, but hopefully he’s not like that in bed. Todoroki leads to you the mat on the floor to get your session started. You glanced back at your trainer and give him a wink. He shakes his head at you but you didn’t miss that smile he was trying to hide. Because you know that he was going to make up for this session later tonight.

[kosmosguk]

Lineage (M) | 4

Pairing: Duke Yoongi x Princess Reader

Word Count: 5.2K

Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be.

Warnings:  HEAVY yandere themes, death, mentions of gore and death, near-death experiences, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, mentions of smut, 18+, explicit language, pregnancy, vomiting

A/N: wow...I can’t believe this story (well the main story; there’s a special chapter and an epilogue coming up) is over. Over 40 pages later...It feels like I’ve raised and nurtured a baby into a somewhat adult and now I have to send it off for college or smth :( I never thought the story would do this good in the first place (part 1 has 4k+ notes and I’m ,, shook ,,,) so to everyone who supported and loved this story (as messy as it was)...THANK YOU! Please keep supporting my writing, and I hope to keep improving as your lovely kosmosguk :]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

The air was still cold, the kind of cold that heavily bore on your lungs and left you rattling like the only thing left of you was a decaying ivory skeleton. You supposed the cold made sense, even though it was spring and it shouldn’t have been so cold. Some part of you convinced yourself it was the norm even when droplets of icy water splashed onto your frail cheeks. Even when you closed the door behind you, you could feel the chill; even when an acrid taste built up in your throat, you could not stop shivering.

Why could you remember the look on Namjoon’s face? You closed your eyes. Go away, go away, go away. His face lingered even then, even more stark against the darkness of your closed lids, hollow, disappointed eyes and lips curled too rigidly, too unnaturally into a smile. You knew that look. You hated that look.

You could feel the pain in your chest, prickling, and that pain seemed to sink itself into your stomach. Why did it hurt? Why were you hurting?

10. 9. 8.

You counted in your mind softly as the nausea swelled up, like the disgustingly messy crescendo of an agonizing melody. Now, this was strange, wasn’t it? Your cold wasn’t supposed to be accompanied by such nausea. When you began to heave, bracing yourself against the frame of your bed, you heard a knock and then the door click open.

A maid stood out there, her eyes widening as if she could not fathom the sight of you. You clasped your hand around your mouth, tears building up in your eyes, and you choked on a heave. You heard her footsteps tapping frantically as she dashed to get a bucket, but you couldn’t hold in the prickling in your throat, the swirling in your stomach.  

Tears spilled out, dropping onto the ground, as you bent over and retched all over your nightgown and the carpet. Your vision blurred, spots dancing, and you sunk heavily into the moment of weakness.

When you came to, you were being encased in something warm. You didn’t smell anything rancid like what you had been expecting; instead, the soft pleasant scene of rose oil scented soap met your nose, and you exhaled a relieved sigh. Wait…rose wasn’t the only smell. You could smell a hint of wine and something muskier, though slightly sweet. The smell of it was so familiar. It couldn’t be? You peeked open an eye to look up to see your surroundings, and your mouth dropped open slightly.

“D-duke? My Lord. Why are you here? Why…How did I get here?’’ you sputtered, and you tried to push yourself out of his hold. His gaze, along with his hold, remained steady. He reached out slightly and gently trailed a finger down the curve of your cheek.

“I haven’t been able to visit you lately because of how busy I’ve been…If I had known you were feeling so ill, I would’ve been by your side. I’m so sorry,’’ his tone was remorseful. The Duke, who everyone believed had no bone of emotion in his body and who was notorious for never feeling remorse, was apologizing to you. His words seemed to wash out every agony you had experienced. You rapidly blinked away the hint of tears in your eyes and ducked your head shyly.

He caught your chin with a hand before you could hide your face and lifted it gently. You noticed the black circles imprinted into the skin under his eyes, the way his face was even more waxy and pale than usual. Every aggrievance you had despaired over while alone in that room faded; you missed him. You missed him so much. You wouldn’t have been stuck in your own head if he had been there to hold you…but he was here now.

That thought washed over you, and you wrapped your fingers around the hand that was under your chin. His hand was limp as you pushed it down to your thrumming heart. Your stomach fluttered as his fingertips traced your warm skin peeking out of the collar of your nightgown. You carefully held his hand there. You didn’t notice the brief flash of guilt on his face.

You didn’t say anything, your hand still firmly holding his, and you shuffled your body closer, closing your eyes. The scent of the two of you mixed together was pleasant, and although Yoongi’s touch was usually unnaturally cold, today he was so warm. Or maybe the warmth of you had seeped out and spread around the two of you. That was okay; you were warm enough for the both of you. You suddenly felt so tired, even though you had just slept.

“Yoongi…,’’ your voice was barely a mumble,’’ I’m tired. Stay with me?’’

He moved the hand in your grasp slightly, and you held on tightly even though you were half-asleep. He chuckled lowly.

“Don’t worry. Relax your hand. I’ll be here,’’ he spoke. You complied, and you felt his fingers wrap themselves around yours. The two of you laid there, a hand clasped with the other between your chests, and you took in the sensation of your husband with every deep inhale.

“I’ll always be here.”

“Is she better?’’

Namjoon leaned back on the chain, but his posture was still stiff. Yoongi gazed at him with cold eyes from the chair across from Namjoon.

“What were you doing with her? Alone.’’ Yoongi’s voice was menacing.

Namjoon casually shrugged, his voice was level and careful to not expose any of his inner emotions.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? I was checking up on her, something her husband wasn’t doing. She didn’t look too good either,’’ Namjoon kept an eye on Yoongi’s reaction, his tone accusatory and raising in volume,’’ It made me think that you don’t give a damn about her, even though she looks and acts so much like her.’’

“Don’t.’’

Namjoon laughed bitterly.

“Don’t what? Don’t mention how much of a shitty husband you are? Don’t mention her? Shouldn’t I be telling you that? Don’t treat her like a replacement. She isn’t her. She died years ago. I saw her dead body. You saw her dead body. She’s not here anymore, Yoongi. You have to move on.’’

Yoongi’s palms were in fists now, his knuckles turning white, but his voice remained steady.

“She’s not dead.’’

Namjoon looked at Yoongi in disbelief, his expression twisting even further. Namjoon could only laugh, the sound dry and hoarse, and it crackled out like the remnants that Namjoon held in his heart.

“Yoongi.’’ This wasn’t Namjoon. Namjoon rarely got angry at Yoongi; hell, after what happened, he never got even slightly bent up at Yoongi, but he saw your face, contorted and agonized. His voice pressed out like a layer of bitter poison. He was on his feet now. “Fucking wake up. She’s dead. She died!”

“She hasn’t died,’’ Yoongi inhaled a deep breath,” She’s alive; I know it!’’

Namjoon shook his head, and before he knew it, his fist had collided with Yoongi’s jaw, sending Yoongi’s head swiveling to the right. He grabbed Yoongi by the shirt. Yoongi didn’t move, barely flinching from the blooming bruise on his face.

“Get it in your head, bastard. I’ve known you for centuries, Yoongi. I cared about her too, but she’s dead. But you know who’s not dead! Your wife. And she’s dying because of you. You want to cause someone else who loves you to die again?’’

“She’s alive, Namjoon! She died, but she’s back. Namjoon, don’t you understand?’’

Namjoon yanked Yoongi up, curling back his mouth to shout some more, but his words died in his throat before they could rise and leave on his tongue. There was a deranged look in Yoongi’s usually composed eyes. Yoongi looked feral, a murderous beast rippling underneath the façade of the weak human he wore, and Namjoon felt his spine curl in chills.  

Namjoon dropped Yoongi back onto the sofa, his chest rising up in rapid heavy breaths, and he shook his head before spitting out his final words.

“You, you’re the one who doesn’t understand. If you don’t get your act together, as your friend, I’ll give you a warning: something will take her away. Whether it be a new suitor or death.”

Namjoon turned to leave, and his hand was on the doorknob when he heard Yoongi’s voice.

“When she died, I made a choice, Namjoon.”

Namjoon didn’t move. His breathing was ragged.

“You ever wonder how I managed to survive this long with most of my power gone? It’s because of her. I made the choice when…when she was bleeding out, I made a pact with the God of life. The God of life knew that I would’ve destroyed that family of bastards and then the world if I had a chance, so he made a deal with me. She would be born as the unloved princess of the same line of people who killed her, but I had to promise that I could not destroy the world. Namjoon, I’m telling you this for a reason.’’

Namjoon turned quickly back, his eyes pinned to Yoongi’s still form on the sofa. He didn’t expect Yoongi to keep talking.

“But we’ve been friends for centuries. You deserve the truth. The deal I made with that bastard wasn’t perfect. When she was reborn, she would be human. Her. She had been so in love with flowers, and now she doesn’t even look at them the same anymore. But God said…,’’ Yoongi inhaled,’’ God said I could have her really back if I was careful. Where she had been stabbed, there’s a mark. If I could make her love me once more and I waited until the Spring Equinox… If I stabbed her through there, I would have my love back.’’

There was a pause to laugh, though it was no laugh of joy. “Isn’t that cruel? I would have to hurt her the way they hurt her. But it’s worth it. It’s worth it if I have a chance to get her back.’’

“Yoongi…!’’ Namjoon’s breath was even more ragged now. Rage colored it. “She’s human. If you kill her, there’s a chance she’ll actually die! That body of hers is human. It can’t contain the power of a deity!’’

“Don’t you think I know that?’’ Yoongi’s voice struck an unruly crescendo, and he finally rose to his feet. Namjoon flinched slightly at the maniacal expression painted in his friend’s once calm eyes. “This is my final chance to bring her back. She’ll never be hurt again! I’ll lock her up in a safe place, my flower, my…my wife.’’

“Don’t you understand what you’re doing is going to hurt her? It’s already hurting her!’’ Namjoon’s voice boomed in a yell, but Yoongi didn’t back down. He was too far now to back down.

“What does it matter? I love her. She’s the same as her, but she’s also not the same. She needs to be completed. The her of now is just a vessel for her true self… And as long as I break it, everything will go back to the way it should’ve been before she decided to trust those mortal bastards over me!’’

There was a tension in the room that couldn’t be swallowed by Yoongi’s increasingly rough breathing. Namjoon’s voice managed to croak out. There was no stability to it, not anymore.

“When you said there’s a reason why you’re telling me this, what is it? You know I’m going to stop you from pulling through with this. She’s dead, Yoongi, and the her of right now is a mortal! She’ll die once more, and what will you do then? As your friend—!’’

“What friend? What friend does a demon even have? And what friend looks at his friend’s wife in that manner, in nearly the same way that I do…! Namjoon, I know you love her.’’ Yoongi’s voice lowered back down to a threateningly calm voice. “And I can’t have that.”

Namjoon steeled himself for a fight, but he was no match for Yoongi. Yoongi was older than him, more powerful than him. He had slain bodies on the battlefield without losing breath. And now, he was going to do the same to Namjoon. Yoongi’s hands wrapped tightly around Namjoon’s neck, and Namjoon choked on a wheezing breath.

Namjoon tried to suck in a shaky breath as his vision splotched. He was a demon. He couldn’t quite die like humans did, but there was an end to all entities, demonic or heavenly, and Yoongi’s power was bitterly overwhelming. Yoongi’s fingers dug into the thin mortal-like flesh of Namjoon, and blood the deep color of ink dribbled out of crescent marks.

“I’ll take into consideration your many years of servitude to me, Namjoon. Your end will be much kinder than the ends of those before you.”

Flowers were peeking through blades of jade-green glass when you finally found yourself outside the rumored garden of the Duke’s first love.

He had gone for the day, and you had bitten the apple of temptation that curiosity had granted you.

You were the duchess; there was no need for you to be so cautious nor feel so guilty. But your gaze darted left and right, careful of any lingering servants, as you pushed your way into the depths of the garden.

Lush flowers greeted you, petals of every shade of the rainbow unfurling and glistening with the morning dew, and you exhaled in soft wonder. The sight was marvelous. The garden was beautiful, and it had been tended to meticulously. The beauty of the garden coupled with the pinpricks of growing despair in your heart as you furthered your way in.

You heard something snap and heard the voices of servants from just outside.

“The Duchess hasn’t been feeling well, hasn’t she?’’ you heard the voice’s echo.

“Ay, it’s unfortunate that the Duke has been too busy to look after her. They used to be so enamored at the beginnin’ of their marriage, but noble marriages…,’’ the responding voice hushed, but you could still hear the last part,” they never really go happy. Especially since rumors been spreading that the Duke still has a first love he can’t forget and only married the Duchess cause she reminded him of ‘er.”

You hurried your pace further in, not wanting to get caught. Your breath hitched, and the agony of those soft words pierced your already aching heart. Your eyes prickled in hot tears. Why, you wanted to scream at yourself as your footsteps quickened and your vision blurred, why were you so weak?

He had treated you so well. He loved you, didn’t he?

Your ankle twisted as your shoe slipped on the wet ground, and you were sent sprawling into the ground, grass and mud staining your dress. You looked pathetic, wet and muddy and close to tears…and then you looked up and made eye contact with the gray statue standing in front of you.

It had been carefully carved in the image of a young girl, holding an armful of flower bouquets—you noticed that the flowers were not made of stone like the rest of her and that they were fresh, as if someone had tenderly made sure to replace them every day—in her arms and beaming widely as her legs raised in a gleeful skip. She looked alive, but most importantly…she looked exactly like you.

From the slope of her nose to the curve of her lips and even to the way her eyes turned up in a playful smile, reminiscent of the naïve you of the past, she was every inch you like you were every centimeter her.

The answer to the previous question rang and echoed painfully in your head: No.

Your tears broke free from its constraints. They dripped down your cheeks like blood drops, and you muffled a sob as the cruel truth dug its blade into your heart and left you painfully bleeding out in a beautiful garden filled with the past’s flowers.

You allow him to embrace you as the waning moonlight slowly aligned itself to match the glowing sunlight. Even when he seemed distracted, and you could tell his thoughts were drifting back to her, you would shamelessly bring him closer to you, spread your legs farther apart and moan more like the whore you were. Anything, you would repeat to yourself, anything to keep him to you.

But if you were willing to do anything for him to love you, why did you find hot tears spilling onto your cheeks as you watched the sleeping him? The moonlight would embrace his skin, light it up like it was alabaster, and you would realize that perhaps the love he had shown you before was like the love an artist gave to a statue: tender but shallow.

Even then, you would lose yourself in your own rosy-painted memories, in which he tenderly cradled your hand and told you how beautiful you had looked the night of the ball. You loved him; you loved him too much.

But why, if you loved him so, did you hide your nausea to yourself? Why did you pick at meals and force yourself to eat them despite the growing urge to vomit? Why did you hide? Did you want to remain eternally beautiful and pure to him, like the innocent girl laughing silently in that wretched garden?

Did he ever love you?

When the hours of moonlight finally clicked to match the hours of daylight, you received your answer.

The moonlight served to guide your clumsy fingers. You were carefully embroidering a delicate lily, though it did not look as lovely as you had hoped, into a pure ivory handkerchief when the door of your shared room with the Duke clicked open.

“My wife.”

His face was solemn as ever, but there was a soft light that glowed in his cool eyes. The tenderness on his face was reminiscent of the kind he used to have for you back in the earlier days of your marriage. You were enthralled, bewitched, and entranced as he took quick paces towards you. He swept you up in his arms, his embrace strong and firm, and the handkerchief slipped from your still figures.

If you had not been immersed in the high of his affection, you would have been despaired over the handkerchief, with its half-finished lily, getting dirty. Your mother, before her death, used to adore lilies. She would smile bittersweetly as the bouquet of lilies delivered from the king dwindled and wilted before smoothing your hair down, her voice dim as she spoke.

“I used to love lilies…They stand for three things: devotion, humility, and…”

The third part seemed to escape your mind, but you found yourself not caring as much as Yoongi’s grip on you tightened.

“My Duke, what are y—?’’ you gasped out in surprise.

His voice cut you off, the sound rough and haggard and…exhilarated.

You felt something in your gut alert you of danger, but you did not care. He was holding you; you melted in his touch.

“My wife, I must ask you a dire question,’’ his voice echoed in the silent room,” Do you love me, my wife…Do you love me?’’

Your response spilled out of your lips as if you were bewitched by a spell. Your words were coated in a pathetic, desperate vulnerability.

“Yes, husband, I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you so much.”

Your breath hitched as his grip strengthened, and your brain was covered in a dizzy haze as you tried to gasp for a deeper inhale of air. He pulled away; you were surprised, briefly, at how cruel his eyes looked in the moonlight despite the warmth exuding from him.

“Good. My wife, I love you. I have a surprise for you, but you must trust me. Hold my hand,’’ he reached his hand out, and your hand was clasped in his iron-cold hand before you could fully process your thought. You blindly trusted him, even when he took out a fine silk ribbon.

It was a beautiful shade of gold, though slightly dirty, but your lips twitched nervously as you noticed small splatters of red dying the fabric. However, Yoongi’s gentle smile never wavered, and like an innocent lamb awaiting slaughter, you closed your eyes and let him tie it around you.

“Perfect. You look beautiful, my wife.”

Your heart skipped a beat. All of the love he had ever shown you before had been subtle. But it poured and oozed out of every word that he had spoken. You were foolishly giddy.

You could feel a slight skip in your step as Yoongi guided you. Step by step, you placed your trust in him. You did not hear any other sound other than the footsteps of Yoongi and you. It was unnerving, almost, the silence in the halls. But even when you heard something squelch, like the carpet had been soaked in some liquid, underneath the wooden soles of your slippers, you did not let your footsteps waver.

You were outside now. Your shoes brushed against grass and grated against stone, and you felt the merciless night wind whip at your hair before slowing down to a gentle breeze. You shivered and sought warmth, but there was no warmth, not even in Yoongi’s hand around yours, outside of the ribbon around your eyes.

“My wife, we are here,” you felt Yoongi let go of your hand, and his fingertips brushed against your cheek as he reached to undo the gold ribbon. The fabric fluttered down, the softness of it remaining on your face as you made petrified eye contact with the statue.

It was her; she held new flowers in her hands. A bundle of lilies sparkled white in the moonlight, and you felt your face go ashy. You remembered the final third meaning of lilies: restored innocence after death.

“Duke…Yoongi, what’s…What’s,’’ you tried to sputter out. Your pupils were dilated from fear, and you did not shake from the cold. No, you trembled from a deep sense of fearful dread. You flung your arms and embraced yourself as the nausea boiled in your gut and rose in your throat like acrid steam.

He got closer to you, and the moonlight illuminated the mania in his eyes and the glint of a blade. There was no calm before the storm; no, this was the storm. You let out a shrill scream and turned to run away.

Your feet tore up grass in your frenzy, but he was the Duke that many had rumored came from hell. He cut down thousands on the battlefield and emerged each time drenched in blood. It was then, as he reached out and grabbed your arm in a callous, bruising grip, that you came to see the monster that lingered in the human shell you had loved.

He shoved you down to the ground, and his voice pitched as he spat out: “The first night that you had died, I had nearly killed them all. I had planned on vengeance, on soaking this damned earth in blood, but I made a deal. The God said if I spared their creation, I could have you back…You would be human, disgusting and impure like the ones who had slain you…but I could change that. Only if I eliminate the stench of humanity from you.”

You scrambled back as he approached and hugged your stomach. You could already feel the sting of the blade, but you still cried out as the blade glinted in his hand.

“Yoongi, I’m pregnant!’’ you kept your eyes firmly on him,” Yoongi, I have your child! Please, please, if you kill me, this child will die!”

The blade in Yoongi’s hand paused as your breath caught in your throat.

His voice was weak and trembled slightly as he spoke. He was so vicious just a second prior, but now he looked ready to collapse. “My…my child…”

You sought to further his hesitation, to save not only yourself but your child too, and it seemed easy enough to begin weeping once more as your emotions soared to a rattled high.

“If you kill me, you kill this child. Our child. You asked me to call you Yoongi when we married,’’ you sucked in a shaky breath,” Didn’t I mean something to you? And if not me, what about our child? I look so much like…so much like her that our baby would surely resemble her too. Please, Yoongi, my husband, please, please, please!’’

His eyes flickered to the blade in his hand and back to the red mark peeking through the neckline of your gown. There was a resolute light that returned to his suddenly brighter red eyes that startled your heart back into a fiercer race in your chest.

No, please, you silently begged him and hugged your stomach.

“We can always,’’ he swallowed, and your eyes stilled in a conflicting hopelessness as he raised the blade back up once more,” When you’re her again, we can always have more children. We’ll have so many, as much as we want; that will be my apology for taking away our first child. You’ll understand…She would understand.”

The blade shing-ed as it pierced downwards through the night towards your chest, and you clenched your eyes shut and tried to shield your unborn child.

The sound abruptly stopped, and you heard a muffled groan accompany a heavy thud against the ground. You peeked open your eyes, and you choked on shock.  

The man before you looked exhausted and you saw broken iron clasped around one of his wrists. There was exhaustion rimmed underneath his eyes, but you saw firm courage in them too.

“N…Namjoon! Namjoon, Namjoon, please, please save my child!’’ you were screaming hysterically, your eyes hazy as you refused to let your arms fall from around your stomach.

He glanced back at you. That courage grew, and you felt wretched as the bitter taste of grief bite at your tongue. You knew what you were asking for was selfish. You had been selfish from the beginning.

You were selfish to want a happy ending. You were selfish to yearn for a family of three with the Duke, your child’s chubby fingers placed in the hands of each parent, and you were selfish to want to not lose someone else important to you either.

“Go…Go…Now!’’ he called out to you. “He’ll get up soon; you have to leave!’’

You stumbled back up on weak legs. Tears rose in your swollen eyes.

“Please, Namjoon, I can’t…,’’ you choked on a ragged sob,” I can’t leave you here!’’

“You have to!’’ his eyes darted back to Yoongi’s collapsed form,” I’ll come back for you. So hurry…Go!’’

“Promise! You have to be safe!’’ At the sound of Yoongi—no, the Duke—getting up from the ground, you forced yourself to kick your shoes off, turn around, and run away. As pebbles and branches bit at your naked feet, you could hear the sound of fighting. Please, Namjoon be safe, you prayed.

When you reached outside of the garden, you heard a loud choked yell of pain and closed your eyes shut as tears bit once more at them. Was…Was Namjoon dead? You looked back into the darkness of the maze-like garden, the darkness even more haunting with the grave silence permeating it, and you felt grief swell in your gut. You were sobbing now, ready to collapse into the unforgiving dirt, but Namjoon was willing to risk his life for you. You could not stop now.

You saw a figure standing outside, blocking the path away from the garden. Though it was dark, you managed to make out who he was as you got closer. His previously youthful and cheerful features were carefully set back in a more aged look. It was the aid that the Duke had hired for you: Jungkook.

“My goddess, the demon has sacrificed his life for you. Though you are human, God had sent me to guide you. The demon king had promised that he would not slain any other life in vain, and with the death of the demon, that promise has been unfulfilled. But God is merciful…They will protect you and your unborn child from danger.”

The aid’s voice was stony, unlike the light tone he had adopted before, but somehow, that very sound relaxed you. You had no one else to trust now and no way to live securely with your child.

The angel extended a hand, just like the Duke had extended his hand out to you while plotting to end your life.

“Will you take my hand, and let me protect you for as long as you may live?’’

You stared at his hand…and shook your head.

“God’s human servant humbly cannot agree to this. I do not need your forever protection, angel. Please, as long as you find a place safe for my unborn child, I will do whatever is necessary, but I am not willing to fully take the hand of a stranger so soon after a betrayal.”

You felt a tinge of a smile at Jungkook’s…no the angel’s lips, reminiscent of the days in which you had once felt happiness.

“God has always given their promises carefully. Not many mortals have ever refused the divine help. Many have even dared to push the boundaries of such promises.”

You placed a gentle hand over your stomach.

“As long as my child is safe, to me that is all that matters. Please, angel, help me once to only fulfill security for my baby.”

“Then, take my hand now. I have never witnessed a human refuse the hand of an angel before. If a devout believer were to witness you, would you not be labelled as a sinner?” the angel’s voice was almost teasing, had the sound not been so dry and flat.

“Labelled with this damned red mark, I have been a sinner the day I arrived on this earth, angel. It seems to be in my lineage to be nothing more than a sinner.’’ You wryly spoke and reached out your hand, finally taking his. You glanced once more back at the garden, blackened by the shadowy darkness and stench of death.

As you left this wretched place, where you had found love and had been destroyed by love, where you had been pushed and grown from the feeble girl of the past, where you had made memories despite how brief its actuality had been, the statue of the girl began to crumble and the bouquet of white lilies in her hand began to wilt, and as dust and crumbled petals fell to the ground, they became stained once more in red.

A/n: It’s finally the end of the main story :’) As always, leave a comment or a detailed review if you enjoyed the story. 

A special chapter from Yoongi’s perspective and an epilogue will be coming (reply with a  👑 if you aren’t on the taglist yet and want to be updated for those parts), and then Lineage will reach its final final conclusion. 

Thank you, and lmk of any mistakes (I never edit sjsjsj)! 

[cayofdreams]

Establishing the Monocracy

~(Brat!Reader x Bakugou)~

Words: 3.4k

Rating: 🌊 18+, Smut

Warnings/Tags: cunnilingus, teasing, slight degradation

Notes: I was writing this req and just got inspired cuz Bakugou. Ended up being somewhat a preface to my Down with the Monocracy (which ofc is not a req reading to enjoy this)

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“Ohhh~! Yeah baby, right there!! So good!!”

The obnoxious moaning of the actress through your phone’s speakers made Bakugou quickly turn around from his desk to glare bullets into you. You were sitting on his bed, looking nonchalantly at the events transpiring on the screen. 

The two of you were supposed to go out later to hangout with friends so you stopped by his place to kill time. Two hours of time. A normal occurrence for you considering you liked to annoy your friend-and-rival whenever you could, and admittedly his surprisingly cozy room was comfortable to just laze around in.  Usually you’d read manga while he did whatever but Mina had sent you a rather vulgar clip with the caption ‘how i hope my night ends 😝😝!!’.

“Oi! What the fuck are you looking at in my room?! Turn that shit off!” More than the fact that you were boldly watching porn in his vicinity, he was more perplexed at how you were still playing the video after he called you out. “Why the fuck are you watching that?!”

“I just don’t get it.” Scratching your head, you continued to look quizzingly at the actress’ performance. “I mean, people actually find this stuff arousing?”

“Are you just gonna ignore my question?!”

“Oh my goodness, calm down. Mina sent me a video. She’s acting like its the hottest thing ever but it isn’t entertaining at all.” You rolled your eyes before concentrating once more on your phone’s screen. 

Finding it useless to ask if it was normal for friends to send porn to each other he instead questioned just what you were looking at to elicit such a response from you.  

“What? You used to some kind of extravagant sex or some shit?”

“No. Rather what’s happening here is extravagant. Literally no one does this in real life. It’s so unrealistic.”

A million questions ran through Bakugou’s head at this moment. Why were you watching porn in his room? What the fuck kind of porn is so bizarre that a deviant like you is confused? And Jesus were to trying to start something right now? Was he literally in a shitty porn introduction and didn’t know it? 

“Fuck~!! Hyahhh!! I’m gonna cummm~~!!!”

The sounds of the video continued to penetrate through Bakugou’s room. Mentally he was annoyed at the fact that he just wanted to get ahead on some paperwork before going out and your idiocy was preventing that, but physically the boner that was rising in his pants was only more and more intrigued. The woman he’d been undressing with his eyes for longest of times was now in his room, laying on his bed, watching porn.

“I mean seriously, only an idiot could think guys do this.”

“What the hell crazy shit are you looking at??”

“That thing that’s in like every porn. Where the guy is like licking her down there. Cunnilingus, if you will.”

Bakugou raised his eyebrow at you. “You mean eating pussy?”

“Oh my god…you’re so vulgar.” Rolling your eyes, you turned on your side, back faced towards Bakugou.

“You’re the fucking one in my room watching-“ As he glanced at your figure, he wondered just what the fuck you were getting at. Were you weirdly trying to seduce him? By playing porn and then pretending as if you were inexperienced in oral sex just for his sexual interest in you to pique? Were you trying to sexually outsmart him? Bakugou chuckled as he got up and walked towards you. “You think you’re so fucking sneaky, huh?”

You felt the increasing weight on the bed as Bakugou pressed his knee into the mattress to close his torso in on you. “What?” Quirking your eyebrow and turning towards him, you pondered his sudden shift in demeanor.

“Don’t fucking play dumb. I know what you’re doing.” Bakugou gripped his fingers around the collar of your shirt, forcing you to directly face him. “Since you pissed me off, I’m not doing shit with you even if you asked nicely.” He let go of you to walk back toward his desk, slumping himself in the chair. “Pretending like guys aren’t lining up to worship your pussy with their tongue just to get me to pity you. Pathetic.”

You paused as you analyzed his mood. Clearly he was upset at you, but you didn’t have the slightest idea why. “I agree that I should be worshipped but I don’t quite understand what you’re talking about.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue and shot a glare at you. “There’s no fucking way you’re gonna sit here and tell me some loser hasn’t been down on you. Didn’t you just get out of a relationship?”

“Mmm…yeah.”

“And you fucked, yeah?”

“We had sexual relations, yes.”

“And he never went down on you?”

“No. He said it wasn’t necessary.”

“W-What?”

“Well, he said since I’m quote-on-quote, horny all the time, it wasn’t necessary.”

Bakugou knew you were a trickster of sorts, but the way you just nonchalantly talked about your bitch of a boyfriend like it was normal told him you weren’t lying. Did someone like you, the prissiest, most self-absorbed chick in the universe really date someone who wouldn’t go down on you. Fuck, did you miss out.

Or rather, the bastard missed out.

Some snobbish prick didn’t hop on the chance to make you squirm under them? The one chance they’d probably have in asserting their rightful dominance over you, and they were too fucking stupid to not take it? It’d be a lie to say that when Bakugou saw those soft plushy thighs of yours peeking out from under your tight skirts he didn’t fantasize about the dripping mess he could create underneath.

Hell, you practically put your pussy on display whenever you wore those so-called ‘athletic’ shorts that helped you move faster as you’d claim. Bullshit. As if you weren’t tempting every loser in your vicinity with those faint imprints of your pussy lips through those shorts. Fuck, if he had known the whole time you were dating that piece of shit that he wasn’t going down on you, he would’ve fucking shown you what you were missing out on.

Well he wasn’t going to make the same shitty mistake as your boyfriend.

With a small curl of his lips, he cocked an eyebrow towards you. “You wanna find out what you missed out on?”

“Huh?”

“What your shitty ex was too stupid to not do, you want me to do it?”

After taking a moment to process Bakugou’s advances, you erupted into laughter. “No way!”

“Why the fuck are you laughing?!” Here he was, practically stripping his ego away for you, and you were just going to laugh in his face? Refusing his incredibly generous offer? Nevermind the sadistic value he’d receive from having you completely fall apart under him, it was still you who’d reap most the benefits. 

You wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, trying to stifle your snickers. “Okay, and I suppose you’re going to make me scream obnoxiously like the girl in that video, are you?” You face turned from amused to stern. “Unfortunately for you, I’ve already had sex and its nothing like what’s portrayed in that silly pornography. I’m sure it’s the same for- what do you call it? ‘Going down’? So, don’t even waste my time, Bakugou.”

Bakugou chuckled at your ignorance. Not only had you not had the pleasure of your pussy being smothered by some bastard’s tongue, but he wasn’t even fucking you properly? You poor thing. Honestly, he was a little offended you were only just now relaying this information onto him.

While you were trying to go back to whatever random things you were doing on your phone before Mina interrupted you, Bakugou strode back over to his bed, this time climbing on top of it, maneuvering your thighs so that he’d be seated between them.

“Oh no, did I awaken the challenger part of you? I’ve said what I said now get off.” You tried to kick you foot at him but he caught your ankle in his grip.

“Going against your weak excuse of a boyfriend is hardly a challenge, princess.”

“Oh ho-ho, so getting me to actually feel pleasure from what-ever you’re about to do is the challenge?”

“That’s not a challenge either.”

Sucking your teeth, you hastily took off your skirt and spread your thighs for him. “Fine. You have one chance, Ba-KA-gou.”

“Tch. Just do me favor and-“ Bakugou placed your hands around your knees and further spread your thighs apart. “keep ‘em fuckin’ spread.”

Rolling your eyes, you silently complied. You weren’t shy in the least about your body but the way Bakugou was intently zeroing in on the clothed folds of your pussy made your breath a bit shaky. 

Just when you were about to say something about his odd silence you felt the soft peck of his lips on your thigh. That peck was slowly followed by another, this time slightly closer to your center. As you tried to ease your breathing each peck made you more wet than the previous. By the time Bakugou was at the lining of your panties, you were practically pooling through the fabric. Smirking at your trembling he looked up at you.

“Shy?”

“N-No! You’re just incredibly slow. I bet you’re just h-hesitating because you don’t know how to- Owwch!” Bakugou had sunk his teeth into the softness of your thighs. Not enough to break skin, but enough to make you kick your heel into his back in retaliation. “What was that for?! You brute!”

“You’re getting on me about going slow but you’ve been the one wasting everyone’s time, Y/N.” He stroked the tip of his index finger along the slit of your panties, making more of your juices spill through the fabric. “Dating some shitty asshole when you could’ve been wetting this glorious cock the whole time.” He circled his finger around the clothed hood of your clit, reveling in the broken whimpers you couldn’t help but let out. “So now I’m gonna take allll the fucking time I want. So just lay there and try to make this a challenge for me.”

Bakugou then wrapped his lips around your pussy, soaking his saliva through your panties. He wasn’t even directly touching you but the rampant motions of his hot tongue through the now drenched cloth made your hips squirm underneath him. He went back and forth from licking to sucking you over your panties, pausing when you quivered too much or moaned too loud. He didn’t want to accidentally make you cum before his main act.

Unconsciously, you had let go of your knees to glide your fingers through his spikey locks, slightly pulling him forward as if he’d be able to ghost his tongue through your panties. He looked back up at you, pleased with your erotically joyous face.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep your hands there? You’re distracting me.”

Letting out a noise somewhere between a scoff and a whine, you re-placed your hands around your knees.

“So surprisingly obedient.” Bakugou slipped his finger around the crotch of your panties, gliding his knuckle around your swelled clit. “Probably because you’re just desperate to have your pussy played with. What a slut.” He increased the pressure of his knuckle around your clit and the feeling of it made you lean your head back against Bakugou’s pillows. “How about you tell me what you want, princess?”

Regulating your breathing enough to form a sentence you rose your head again to meet his vermillion eyes. “G-Go down on me. Prick.”

“Go? Huh? Where? In a car? Fucking clarify.”

You clicked your tongue and turned your head, annoyed at his feigning. Seeing as how you’d require a little encouragement, Bakugou pressed a kiss against clothed pussy, rubbing the tip of his nose where your clit would lie directly underneath. “C’mon. You’re college educated, right? Use your fucking vocabulary.”

You slowly turned your head towards him, the twitching agitation of your eyebrows only fueling him more. “Will you perform cunnil-“

“Finish that sentence and I’m leaving.”

Not wanting to test him on that threat, you reluctantly parted your lips. “…Eat my…” Bakugou licked stripe along your completely soaked panties, stopping to wiggle the tip his tongue against where your clit would be. “Mmnnn~…my pussy...”

“What? Can you fucking speak up? You can present shit in front of a whole audience but now you’re being as quiet as a damn mouse.”

“F-fuck…Bakugou. Damn you.” Your eyes became watery at the mix of humiliation and pressing desire to be touched directly. Were you really going to soil your ego for this bag of cockiness? Surely it wasn’t worth it. Is what your mind would probably say. But right now, your pussy wore the crown. And the queen was craving attention. “I want you to- to e-eat my pussy.”

Bakugou placed another bite on your inner thigh making your body jolt. “Can’t even add a damn ‘please’ to that? I’m sure your type was taught manners.”

“Pleeaassee~ Fuck! Please eat my pussy, Bakugou!”

A small burst of laughter left him as he slapped your thigh. “Well take ‘em off, princess.”

Begrudgingly taking off your panties, a shiny string of your wetness that connected you with the fabric broke as you threw them on the floor. Reassuming the previous positioning of your thighs, your now bare pussy was left open and vulnerable to your rival.

He leaned down to hover over your pussy, his nose trickling against the hood of your clit. You were already so wet for him. Your pussy was just glistening with juices that begged for tending to. Steadying his position between your thighs he glanced at you one more time. “You better not move.” He then licked a stripe up your folds, stimulating your clit in the process.

“Hyaah~!” The feeling was too much for your somewhat-inexperienced pussy and caused you to involuntarily push Bakugou back with your feet. The annoyance of being stopped was promptly displaced with satisfaction as he peered at your pitiful form.

“What did I just fuckin’ say? Open your legs again.” His voice that was rasp with frustration didn’t match his look of sadistic gratification. You were giving him just the reaction he wanted. Did you really think your meek little pussy was any match for him? He had barely touched you and this is how you’re acting? And the fact you were still hesitating on presenting that little pussy to him again only drove him more eager to ravish you. 

“Dammit, Y/N. Do I have to do every fucking thing?” Bakugou pulled you up by the waist so that you were in a piledriver-like position, with your back arched and ass raised in the air, and of course your pussy now directly presented up towards him. The crook of your neck was nothing compared to his tight grip around your hips, the squish of your flesh plunging from between his fingers. You couldn’t even use your legs to fight against him as his grip was too secure. “All I’m doing for you, and you can’t even follow simple fucking directions.

“’C-Cuz it felt too-Hmmnngh~!” You were cut off by the ravaging of Bakugou’s tongue over your pussy folds. He went back and forth from slurping up your juices to flicking his tongue over and over on your clit. If you weren’t already embarrassed by the position you were in, the absolute filthy sounds Bakugou was making with his mouth were achieving that. “Hnnggh~Baku…Bakugou!” You tried flailing your legs around in the air but Bakugou quickly grasped them in his hands. 

He ran his nails down the silky surface of your thighs, making for a sweetly masochistic pleasure mixed with his obscene lapping at your pussy. Continuing his gorging on your sweet pussy, he could feel you shaking from below him. He looked down below at your face, chucking into your pussy at how wretchedly delirious you looked.

“Gonna cum?” You vehemently shook your head no despite the swelling you felt within your pelvis. He slithered his hands down to glide them up your shirt, lifting up your bra above your soft breasts. “Well I’m not fucking stopping until you do. So give me something to play with until then.”

Bakugou roughly kneaded at your breasts between his fingers, squeezing them to hear your pitchy whines at the pain. The mix of his saliva and your slippery essence drooled from your pussy to pool at your tummy and breasts. He gathered a bit of the mixture and slicked his fingers in circles on your nipples. The erotic feeling of it sent a surge of pleasure straight to your pussy. “Ahahnn~ Bakugou…I-I’m gonna cumm~”

He locked eyes with you, continuing to slick his tongue around your clit. “From what?” Boosting your urgency to reply, he pinched a little harder at your nipples. “Tell me what you’re gonna cum from, princess.”

“F-From you eating my pussy~! From Katsuki eating my pussy~!!” The sounds of hearing you use his name for the first time made him pink in the cheeks and twitch in his boxers. Bakugou came up from between your hips, enticed to make you say more lewd things. You were rarely one to speak vulgarly so he’d make the best of your blissed-out state.

“Ahaha-! You sound like those silly pornos!” Not thinking your face could feel even more hot, you felt your cheeks rise with even more heat at his teasing. Bakugou took one of the hands from your breasts and palmed it against your slippery folds. “You still think every guy is like your stupid fucking ex, Y/N?” He ran his palm back and forth against your slit to keep you right on the edge of an orgasm.

“Noo~! Katsuki is so m-much better! Katsuki is sooo much better than my stupid ex~!”

He chuckled at your admittance, but of course, he couldn’t leave it there. “I’m kinda the fuckin’ best, aren’t I?”

“Hmmnn~! Yesss! ~the best! K-Katsuki is the bessst~!”

“You wanna cum on my tongue?”

“Please! Please let me-! Please let me cum on your tongue, Katsuki~!”

“You better fuckin’ listen to me and stay still, then. And don’t look away from me.”

Bakugou threw you back on the bed before lying on his stomach to place himself once more at your quivering pussy. Making sure your eyes were locked with his, he enveloped your folds within his mouth, sucking directly on your clit. He not only feasted on your pussy, but on the entranced look in your eyes. Your e/c eyes that looked at him like he was the only one that could gratify your carnal desires.

And from now on, he’d be sure he was the only one.

You gripped your fingers at the bed sheets beneath you as your orgasm rapidly creeped up on you. The intensity of Bakugou’s tongue coupled with his eye contact was sending you over the edge more fiercely than any pathetic ex or cheap sex toy ever could. “Ohhhmygodd~ Fuckkk-! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m-“

Forced to break eye contact with the unconscious jerk of your head back on the pillows, your pussy convulsed violently around Bakugou’s tongue. “Katsukiii~!” If you had to say, this was the most powerful orgasm you’d ever experienced. All at the hands- or tongue rather- of Bakugou Katsuki. Your ego would surely be disappointed in you choosing your pussy over it.

Bakugou slowly licked his tongue up and down your folds as you came down from your high. The corners of his lips lifted into a devious smile at your disheveled appearance. When your body finally stopped trembling, he completely separated his mouth from you and slid his body on top of yours to be face-to-face with you.

Silently, without care of you still gasping for air, he pressed his lips against yours, eventually intensifying the kiss with the slip of his tongue between your lips. Happily obliging, you glided your tongue against his as your fingers slithered up to once again fumble with his locks of hair. The taste of you on his tongue almost seemed sensual as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Sliding his hand up to gently grip at your jaw, he separated his lips from yours, licking away the chain of saliva that still connected the two of you. As he sat upright to take his shirt off, he looked down at you, embellished with yearning to relieve his own build-up.

“Should I prove you wrong on fucking too before we hang out with those losers?”

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[eclipsedpascal]

You Deserve This

Andy Dolan x Female Reader

GIF by @kissxmedeadly !!

“The reader asking Andy about his kiddo (let's pretend is a lil boy 🤣) and him being very emotional about it and the reader who truly loves him conforts him 😭❤️” - anon

Please read the warnings!!

Warnings: use of drugs (weed), smut, oral (female receiving), slight public sex, slight angst, mentions of rehab, mentions of suicidal thoughts, a lil bit of crying and VERY slight Eden spoilers, but thats only if you don't want to know anything AT ALL, so basically none? idk lmao:)

Notes: hi! So this is my first Andy fic, I wrote it very quickly last night after a sudden burst of inspiration and it doesn't make too much sense, also it’s kinda cheesy? I don't think I've ever written anything this angsty or soft before, but i’m trying to be more in touch w my emotions nd this is my way of doing that, so hopefully i'll do more things like this soon:) also if you’re interested, the title is one of my favourite songs by Men I Trust that I just thought fit Andy well.

Word count: 1.8k

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The warm, dancing breeze washed over your skin, plucking up your many goosebumps and blowing the rainbow coloured sea of petals that decorated the large garden from left to right. The bittersweet mix of their fragrances and Andy’s blunt rushed to you and filled your scrunched up, wrinkled nose as you let out a loud laugh. The vibrant expanse of fluffy grass felt close to a mattress underneath you, cradling your form whilst you laid amongst the greenery and watched Andy ghost a deep inhale of the blunt he had balanced precariously between two fingers. He flopped his arm across the gap between you and offered you another toke, the dopey smile spread over his features making you laugh even more.

“What’s so funny? Hmm?” He questioned you jokingly, rolling onto his forearms and bringing his face to hover just above yours as you brought the blunt to your lips. You couldn't hold in your laughter, your drug hazed state and the breeze that pushed his brown curls to tickle your blushing skin only exaggerating your amusement further as you choked out clouds of smoke.

“What??” He joined in laughing, finding humour in his own confusion and finding your laugh infectious. His lips found your own in a sudden yet gentle kiss which you gladly embraced, still not managing to fully compose yourself as you giggled into his open mouth.

You did your best to pull back from the kiss, but were reminded you didn't really have anywhere to go when you felt a blade of grass flutter against your ear. “It’s just.. your smile.” You rested your blunt carrying hand on his cheek as you spoke, feeling your heart swell when he pulled an overdramatic expression of insult at your reply.

“What’s so wrong with my smile?!” He half faked offence, not understanding what you could possibly find so amusing about it as you giggled more and more. “What’s wrong with it?- is it my lips? ‘They not good enough for you baby?” His thick accent aided his voice, making him sound even more attractive than he already was as he joked with you.

“Noo! it definitely wasn’t your lips, cause I love those.” You gripped his locks a little firmer, biting your lip as his stare changed from one of curiosity to one of want.

“Oh yeah?” He leaned back down and kissed you again, but this time rougher, the weed made you feel as if his lips were slowly melting into your own as it sent strong signals of lust through your body. He put all his weight on one arm, lifting the other and groping your waist with it whilst simultaneously moving to trail wet kisses down your neck.

His touches were deep, yet executed so delicately it convinced you if he was any rougher, you might just break. He opened the buttons of the flowing shirt you wore; one you had stolen out of his wardrobe that morning. He moved his head further down your chest to your stomach, mouth racing in slow motion to reach you were he wanted to most.

Forgetting to explain why you found his smile so funny in the first place, your high carried your thoughts closer towards how incredible his mouth felt on your skin, making you lean into his touch and let out a few small mewls.

As he reached your panty line, he tapped your hip, signalling for you to lift them so he could take your shorts off. He slid them off your legs in a quick, smooth motion that had them landing on a nearby lavender bush. The garden had quite a large variety of blossoming shrubbery and many clusters of beautiful flowers, it was probably down to the bi-weekly gardeners Andy had hired. You had known they were expensive and after spending so much time like this, lazing around, surrounded by the expensive home’s nature, you were beginning to understand why he had hired them.

You returned your gaze from the dangling shorts, back to the man nestled between your bare thighs. His beard was scratching at your skin in the best way possible as he laid small kisses over the thin fabric that covered your cunt. His hot breathe felt like fire as you wriggled and squirmed below him, just wanting some kind of contact from him.

He used two fingers to peel your panties to the side, groaning at the site of your glistening folds before kissing your clit gently. His tongue started swiping across your cunt slowly, taking all the time in the world to make you feel as good as he knew he could. You moaned loudly, grabbing at his hair once more as he sucked on you deeply.

“Mr Dolan?” You were interrupted by a throat clearing before hearing a man speak; one of Andy’s many servants you guessed. They had never seemed to leave the two of you alone whilst you had been staying there. No matter how big his home was, you always seemed to find another at every corner.

Andy looked up to the man with question and annoyance, raising an eyebrow at him as he wished for him to just hurry up and leave so the two of you could continue with your escapades. “It’s the phone for you Mr Dolan. Your son.”

Andy quickly rose from his place below you, his mind abandoning all thought of the act he was just partaking in as he jogged past the glass doors of his home, wanting only to speak to the young boy.

You sat up slightly, doing up a few buttons of your shirt and laying your crossed legs to the side of you as you held yourself up with your arm. You watched him as he scrambled into the house after his servant, little red marks from where he had been lying in the grass next to you were noticeably imprinted on the skin of his left arm, the one he had been leaning on, and his open shirt was flowing behind him with the speed he was moving.

You looked down to the flowers on front of you, picking a single daisy that bore tinted, pink tips on the end of each slim, white petal, twirling the stem around between two of your fingers as you listened to the breeze pick up. You could feel the mood of the air change as he left, the wind feeling more cold an irritating than once before as you pondered the call Andy was having.

You knew how desperate he had been to speak to his son again. It had been months since he had spoken to him without his ex-wife being the messenger. He missed him more than he knew to describe.

His recent divorce had been what had fuelled him to return home to Eden; hoping to find solace in the paradise he knew so well after feeling as if he had lost himself entirely. Spending too many years constantly playing other people had taken more of a toll on him than he had realised, that was until he was sent to rehab. After getting out, he felt as if staying in Eden was the only way for him to climb out of the dark hole he had managed to find himself in. Unfortunately, this journey of finding himself had meant making the decision to leave his son behind in Los Angles. Something he didn't like to speak on much.

When you had first met him in rehab however, he had been extremely open about his life, telling you how anger was the only emotion he could really feel anymore. Explaining that if he wasn’t at least the slightest amount intoxicated, he didn't think he couldn't go on with living; especially after the recent downfall of his career being showcased for the entire world to see. It was dark stuff, but you understood each other. That’s a big part of what made you grow so close.

You picked off petal after petal from the daisy, watching its beauty fade with each pluck and letting each one slowly blow into the breeze, creating a tragic stream as they blew away from you and down to the not so far off shoreline. As you plucked the last petal, you admired the daisy, still glowing with pollen and beaming in the sunlight despite have lost so many important parts of it. You stuck it into your shirt pocket and fell back down to lay on the grass as you waited for Andy to finish his call.

It had been maybe ten minutes you were lying with your eyes closed, enjoying the heat that beamed down from the clear, Australian sky when you finally heard the slow footsteps that you knew to be Andy’s, pattering along the grass. You shot up from where you lay to see the dopey-smiled man who had left you in the garden just fifteen minutes before, only to be faced with a red-eyed, teary one.

“Andy what happened? Are you okay?” He fell down onto the grass besides you, staring at you but completely wordless. You felt as if you could see into his soul. He was feeling so many emotions he hadn’t even been able to grasp at in so long. It was overwhelming him and you knew it. You reached out to stroke is cheek, concern running through you for the man that you had grown to love so dearly over the past few months.

He looked up “She’s gonna let me see him. T-They’re coming over next month.” A tear fell from his face as he smiled harder than you had ever seen him smile before. He was finally going to see his son after all these long months and you couldn’t have been any happier for him.

“Really?! That’s amazing, oh my god!” You moved forwards, wrapping your arms over his large shoulders and squeezing him in a hug so full of love it was palpable. “You really got to speak to him this time?” You questioned him once more before pulling away from his grasp, thinking back to the many times his ex-wife had promised he could speak with the boy but decided at the last minute he wouldn’t get to.

“Yeah!.. he uhh,” He took in a shaky breath, chuckling with joy as he recalled hearing the young boy’s voice so filled with excitement and energy over the phone. “He said he couldn't wait to meet you! You know, when I told him about you.” He stumbled over his words, running a hand through his hair as he shook with nerves, doing his best to calm himself.

In that moment, you felt your love for him soar higher than it ever had before. You were so proud of the progress he had made, and you knew his son would be too. “And I cant wait to meet him either.” You rested your forehead against his, the two of you enjoying a stand still and bathing in the happiness you both felt in the beautiful moment. The sound of the ever present breeze occupied your ears as the laughter emitting from two of you joined it, echoing a song throughout the garden that wouldn’t be forgotten any time soon.

●●●●●●●●

Thank you sm for reading!!🥺💗

Tags: @celestialrequiem @ntxoza @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @blakescoven @ritualmichael @ghostangels @fernfiction @ferndolan @brattylovee @7-wonders @angelicmichael @melodylangdon @brooklinn13 @kitty4860 @lavenderahs @michaellangdonstanaccount @9layerdevilfoodcake @chicaluna2410 @plymptxn-reborn I've just tagged anyone who I thought might be interested as per usual, but if you would to be removed feel free to let me know!! you can also lemme know if you would like to be added to the tag list too:)

[bitchassbucky]

.avi

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning/s: nsfw! (literally) stalkerish themes. dark!bucky x dark-ish!reader. cybercrimes being committed. f & m masturbation. sex toy (vibrator mention). this is kinda meta, tbh.

A/N: the long-awaited part two of .exe mwahaha. we're delving not-that-deep into bucky's little thingy methinks. as always, reblogs and comments are welcomed! <3

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist

CTRL moodboard

Jesus Christ, you’re insatiable.

Bucky barely woke up when he caught you masturbating with a rabbit vibrator on your bed—laying on your stomach. The towel you thoughtfully laid on was folded halfway. He assumes that you’re a squirmer too when you come. The Friday night show was his favorite though, shame that he didn’t get any footage of it.

His dick is already hard but he’s got no time to waste just yet. Clicking open a screen recording app, he gets to work. Bucky’s already got some footage of you sleeping, cleaning up, and tidying your sheets. In his little mind palace, he’d never let you do any of these things—he’ll be the one to change the sheets, he’d tuck you in bed too.

Bucky let the program run on the desktop as he went to get his breakfast. His mind keeps drifting back to you in his office.

How do you like your coffee?

Do you even like coffee?

You look like a tea kind of person.

Maybe he’ll ask you for breakfast, as soon as he learns how your morning routine goes.

When he came back to his desk, the bed was already made up (again). He got worried for a second until your face came into the frame, your glasses fogged up with vapor.

You bring the laptop with you to the living room, along with a big mug of… something.

He’s gotta learn what you like so he can like it too.

On his side of the things, he sees that you keep your word processor running in the background. More work, perhaps? He hadn’t had the chance to check out your files just yet. He kept himself busy with your pictures and candids. Bucky had his favorites all printed out—he, of all people, knows that technology can’t be trusted, so why were you uploading these pictures of yourself?

There were ones taken in your bathroom, he presumes. On your bed. In the kitchen. By a fucking window, for crying out loud.

He wants to be the one to take these pictures, to imprint them into his memory. Seared in his brain. But not yet.

For now, he just needs to get back at making sure you’re safe in your apartment.

You’ve been staring and smiling at your phone for a while now.

What are you up to?

—

Turns out Mr. IT Guy isn’t very social-media savvy.

All his pictures are out in the open for everyone to see. You wonder what he’s like in private, then.

Maybe he likes posting candids of his new girlfriends and deleting them when it’s over? For a man who has a face of a god, you’d expect to see at least a girlfriend within the past few months.

But he doesn't. No corny pictures, no hashtags of anniversaries, no tagged photos.

You spent your morning working up yourself with your trusty vibe, the image of him fucking you by the kitchen sink fresh on your brain.

Holy shit, does he have that effect on everyone?

What if you wander into his office after a shift and you’d find him stroking his cock? Would you close the door and never speak of it? Maybe you’d smirk and walk over him, sinking down on your knees to suck him off.

God, now you’re all worked up again. Horny, hot, and bothered. That’s good though, then you’d have the energy to finish the chapter you left a week ago.

—

So you’re a writer by choice. Bucky knew that much.

What he wasn’t expecting though, is you write the most explicit things.

The all-white collar girl he met last week likes to get fucked roughly. Overstimulated. Choked. Gagged. Slapped. Spit on.

He’s gotta show you how to make love. Slow, sensual love. Preferably after the roughhousing, that is.

Oh, the things he’d do to you—how he’ll worship your body, head to the tip of your toes. Bucky wants to bury his cock between your lips and praise you for the good girl you are. He wants to let you know that you don’t need to be degraded in order to come.

You just need him.

Bucky’s cock twitches in his sweatpants, still painfully hard. The thick vein on the underside of his shaft protrudes, waiting for him to just fuck something warm.

His hand will do for now.

By the time he got his hand gripping the base of his cock, he’s got you in fullscreen. The recording app still running in the background.

You’re busy. Typing. Researching. Looking for words to replace ‘say.’ Your sleep shirt is loose on your soft frame.

Bucky focuses on you, then. Imagining you on your knees, right here in his apartment. You’d be wearing those glasses you have on. He knew he had a thing for girls with glasses.

He closes his eyes to indulge himself in his own movie.

Your tongue laying flat against his girth, drooling all over the thick base of his dick. He’d let you take your time licking, all the way from his balls to tip. Your lips would close around his leaking head, teasing and tasting his precum.

One of his ties would be around your wrists so you’d learn how to use your mouth.

Bucky swears to God that he felt your mouth closing in on his cock as he pistons his fist faster. A guttural moan spills out of his mouth as his toes curl, the carpet gripping the pads of his feet.

“God, fuck—Y/N.”

Bucky forgoes any kind of underwear last night, only dressing himself up with baggy sweatpants. It was for the better too. He doesn’t think he’d come so much from watching someone—well, not just someone—on the screen.

He sighs, wiping himself clean on the underside of his pants. He needs to do his laundry soon.

Bucky looks at your face longingly from his side of the screen; God, is this how long-distance couples feel?

Maybe he’ll shoot you a text later.

—

Unknown Number: I hope you’re doing well.

Unknown Number: How's your laptop?

Unknown Number: Shit, sorry, it’s Bucky from IT. :)

Your head spun in three different directions as the texts came in.

Hey, Bucky! I’m doing well. The laptop is too.

Was it too curt? Well, you didn’t want to come off too strong. It’s not like he’s been on your mind for the better half of your weekend morning.

Your stomach made a worrying flip as the message status turned Read 10:44 AM. But there was no typing bubble.

Whatever, you’re fine. You’re a busy girl. A strong, independent woman who—

IT Guy Bucky: Good! Just checking on you. We had some downtime due to system maintenance last night.

Oh, it’s work.

No problems on my end! You type in quickly, sending it. To be fair, all you had in common was a band.

Hey, I have a question. It’s not work-related.

—

Oh.

Oh, he fucked up, didn’t he?

Y/N: Do you know any restaurants near the office? I’m sick of eating take-out food. Other than the hipster hideyhole you told me.

Bucky breathed out a sigh of fucking relief when he read your text. He chuckles mostly at himself and composed a reply.

Yeah! I have a non-hideyhole spot a block away from the office. You wanna check it out sometime?

You already got inside jokes.

Is 11:30 good?

Yeah, Bucky types, a smile forming on his lips, 11:30 it is.

[onmyyan]

Hi its me again. I love your writing and the fact that there isn't as much abuse like there is in others. It reminds me of old yandere stories were it was genuine lovesickness. Anyway, how do you think jjba yanderes would react to a darling that is taller and more muscular than them by quite a bit. You can do whoever you like I don't mind.

A/N: Omg ily🥺 it means a lot you said all that because I really love this genre it’s my comfort trope anyway thank you for the request n I hope ya like it!! Kira should be a trigger warning in an of itself but dw he’s just weird, not mean. Mentions of his past ‘girlfriends’, a curse word or two, lil suggestive in someplace’s Mista murks a few people, tw//gun violence

Characters: Pt2 Joseph, Josuke, Kira, Mista

Joseph was used to looking down on people, standing at a proud 6’5” he was literally and figuratively knocked on his ass when he’d first laid eyes on you, his immediate thought was you were a forgotten pillarman coming from nowhere to get revenge for your masters only to quickly realize you were just a stallion. You were strong enough to put him on his back after one too many cheeky comments. Unafraid to speak your mind and keep him in check, You would stare down at him with that mind melting smirk, all too aware of his frustrations, you assumed he was just being a man, ashamed to be outclassed by someone other than himself, oh honey how wrong you were. You enjoyed teasing the behemoth of a man as no one else really could, at least not as well as you did, throughout your little jabs and snark he always had a retort, a response on the tip of his tongue, eager to do this dance of yours until one of you broke, to you he was a way too cocky dangerously self assured pretty boy who was entertainingly easy to rile up, but to Joseph, you were his everything. Someone he could proudly take home to Granny Erina once he’d finally tamed you. He had a plan, a three step plan to steal your heart just as you’d done his, and this little game of who could annoy the other the most was just step 1. “It’s been fun JoJo but you’re gonna have to find someone else to bother.” You’d jokingly said one day out of the blue, an odd friendship had formed through the month you’d been in town and it felt wrong to leave without notice, an act of kindness you’d learn to regret. “Is this one of your famous jokes (Y/n)? Not so funny to play with a mans heart like that I nearly believed you.” He finished with a scoff, his signature smirk not reaching his eyes. “It’s true Joseph, my flight leaves tomorrow, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye, because as much as we fuck around you’re pretty fun to hang out with.” Your sincerity almost made him feel bad about rushing the next few steps of his plan, he’d have to cram months of planning into a night but he’d accomplished more with less time on his side. He huffed, his grin stretched wide across his handsome features. “Then we outta make tonight count eh?” A thick arm was tossed around your neck, you had to bend awkwardly for this to be possible much to your amusement. “Okay you weirdo, whatever you say.” You let him lead you around town with a grin, unaware you’d be missing that plane, and any other one you tried to take without him.

Josuke watched you eat with the dopiest grin on his face, he’d spent an extra hour in the mirror this morning in preparation for your first official date! Well you didn’t exactly know it it was a date and Okayasu was eating rather messily beside you two but still! You’d actually agreed to come to Toni’s with him! You’d been an enigma since you transferred to the bizarre town, choosing to keep to yourself, and despite the intimidating height and mass you possessed, he saw through your act in seconds. There was a huge softie under all that muscle, he’d watched you enough to know this as a fact, you were a gem and he was intent on showing you his appreciation and adoration for the rest of his days, a vow he’d silently taken the day you’d stolen his heart, the moment was brief in reality but it lasted forever in his mind, you smiled at him in passing, he could feel time slow down, everyone around you faded in the background, a backdrop to the beginning of your story. He could imagine telling your kids how you’d met, something about the way you’d stare down at him, eyes sharp and attentive, like you truly listened when people spoke, your laugh was loud when it was real and every time he heard it he felt 10 years added to his lifespan. At the same time that icky feeling at another person making you laugh was conflicting, he’d never been in love before but he suddenly understood why his mom had never given up on his dad, love was weird but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’d accidentally snapped your chopsticks laughing too hard at a joke he’d tossed out, your face scrunched in embarrassment before chuckling at yourself and switching to a fork, his stand came out on its own, pocketing the shards to fix later, a new item for his ever growing collection, what a cute little memento from your first date! His thoughts swirled happily with the stories you’d be telling your kids. Thankfully neither of you noticed his little pickpocket moment, dangerous plans forming as he stared at you with those misleadingly soft puppy dog eyes.

Kira could die in this moment, happily I might add, as your firm but soft hand was wrapped oh so deliciously around his throat threatening to crush it with ease at the slightest movement. He’d been watching you for a while now, the longest he’d ever spent on someone he didn’t plan to kill, it become sort of hobby he’d picked up recently, the morally upsetting activity bringing peace to his day to day, usually he used his stand to carefully observe your routine, eager to learn all he could about his future spouses likes and desires, but he was getting greedy. Of course he could always introduce himself but he resisted, knowing there was a time and place to get exactly what he wanted. He liked to think he knew everything about you by now, your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, your love for cats, but he didn’t anticipate this. You were much more observant than he’d given you credit for, while you couldn’t see his stand you could sense yourself being watched, and seeing the large blonde lurking indiscriminately in the crowds throughout the day was enough to set you off. So you trailed off into the less crowded parts of town quickly entering an alleyway, he followed in pure confusion only to be roughly slammed into the wall, his stand came out on reflex but simply stared at his attacker, it seemed almost confused as what to do. “Why the hell are you following me pretty boy?” His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your fingers tightening, god he’d never felt this rush of exhilaration, none of his past ‘girlfriends’ could pull such an illicit reaction from him with a simple touch. When he didn’t answer you simply scoffed and tossed him aside like it was nothing. You left with a threat to stay out of your sight, yet all he could do was smile, the faint imprint of your fingers burned in his skin deliciously, how lucky could one man get?

Mista observed you with hungry eyes. His stare was unapologetically locked on your form. He made no intention to hide his attraction for you. The day you’d joined Buccarati’s crew was the day his world flipped. He assumed his new teammate would be no one to fuck with based on what Bruno told him about your stand, but when you walked in? Needing to bend down slightly just to enter the doorway had him sweating in his seat. He didn’t know what to say as he watched you happily interact with his fellow teammates, immediately you blended with the group, but all that was running through his mind were all the fun things you could do with those muscles. He usually stayed silent around you, not out of dislike as one would assume from his piercing gaze, but fear of accidentally voicing one of those nasty thoughts kept him quiet. You didn’t seem to mind though, always including him in the conversation, you even understood his very valid fear of that dreaded number! How could god plop such a perfect person in his lap and expect him to not do anything about it? Alas, Bruno had specifically told them not to make you uncomfortable with any flirting so he bit his tongue. Your aura was calming, a contrast to your powerful stand, speaking of, he couldn’t get his under control. Whenever they could Sex Pistols was out and all over you. They climbed and clamored for your attention, thankfully you didn’t seem to mind, always entertained their antics when you could, even giving each one a small peck when they wouldn’t let you leave for a mission without Mista, to say he was done for was an understatement, it took one mission going foul for his resistance to snap. His stand moved faster than it ever had, piercing the skulls of the idiots who brought you pain. He left the last one slowly bleeding out kneeling down to wipe the matted hair from your forehead, “You okay baby? Don’t worry honey I’ll make the bastard hurt.” He spoke not breaking eye contact, his hand pointed behind him, grip steady as he unloaded in the poor fool who thought it was a good idea to make you bleed, the wound was small, not even deep enough to trouble Giorno but that didn’t matter to Guido, any slight against you was disrespecting the future parent of his children, and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t defend your honor?

[allthingsarmin]

fratboy/stoner armin!! in love with how you write asshole! armin ❤

Thank you for your request! I feel I didn’t do a good job with this one, so I will probably go back later and rewrite it. (And I really appreciate your feedback <3 I hope this dose of asshole!armin will satisfy your needs haha)~

MINORS DNI! Ft. NSFW TOPICS (weed, one mention of vomit, and sex (groping, drunk noncon), mentions of religion, one mention of sexaul assault).

Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who dresses like a gentleman - wearing white shorts and a white button-up collared shirt under a cerulean sweater that compliments his mesmerizing blue eyes as well as a dainty silver watch on his left wrist and always comes to class with a freshly shaven face and cologne that is just a little too “manly” for him - but acts like a complete hooligan, making inappropriate jokes in class, pranking innocent passersby on campus, and getting black-out drunk at frat parties every Friday night.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who looks so poised and has such a refined posture, having enough manners (like holding the door open) to swoon enough girls but is such a menace when it comes to anything serious… like being harshly shushed in the library because he was being too loud or skipping finals to go on a spontaneous road trip with his frat buddies then sending an email to his professor saying he was sick, even printing out a fake doctor’s note, or pranking the sorority across the street by TPing their house or even how he can’t seem to care less when the police ruthlessly question him because there have been so many reports of sexual assault done by his frat friends.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who thinks he is so smart because he’s a business major and genuinely believes he is better than everyone else because he gets out of class to go to all these events even though he is undoubtedly one of the most irresponsible and reckless people on campus… having unprotected sex with countless unfortunate women who have fallen for his false compliments, throwing parties that become too big for him to handle - so loud the police become involved, so messy with red cups littering the floor and vomit being found in every trashcan in the house - and failing nearly every class he’s in because “it’s too easy for me, my advisor put me in the wrong class, and the teacher is an old hag.”

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin whose backpack is filled with anything but college textbooks and notebooks, like a chewed pencil, three packs of condoms, some headphones, and an energy drink.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who swears he’s being a good boy when his rich parents who are on their abroad trip ask him how he’s doing over the phone but is actually spending most of his weekly allowance buying weed and smoking it with his frat buddies, who often gets into intense fights with them because he “knows he had two ounces left, but now he only has one,” and who shows up to class high the few times he does actually decide to go - eyes red, a constant small smirk, can’t stop rambling about useless things.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who walks together with his big group of frat friends, taking up large amounts of room on the sidewalk and in restaurants, cat-calling girls they think look fuckable and loudly mocking those who look prude.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who has a main Instagram where he looks so well-mannered, posting pictures with his family or his frat buddies when they go on a trip together but also has a secret Instagram where he posts thirst traps, follows barely clothed women, and stalks accounts of girls who go the same college as him, even DMing the men at your college to see if they have your nudes.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who knows how handsome he is, who knows how easy it is to make your knees weak and your heart flutter when he looks at you from across the campus soccer field with such intent, biting his lip, maliciously smiling because yet another girl has fallen for his seemingly innocent aura as you excitedly wave at him.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who revels in the fact that he can convince you to do anything. When he’s whining so pathetically in the driver’s seat and pressuring you to just hit the blunt one time while he locks you in his car that’s parked on the far end of the campus parking lot. And you, so submissive and selfless sitting in the passenger seat, not wanting to disappoint him because his frown harshly tugs at your heart, take a hit, choking on the fumes and heart pounding at the unfamiliarity as a warm buzz sets in.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who pressures you to skip class with him so that you both can go to the campus cafeteria and buy an unholy amount of cookies and chips because he’s high and he’s hungry… and now you know why his bedsheets at the frat house reek of weed and why his crusty floor is littered with food wrappers.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who so easily persuaded you to play those type of sexually suggestive games at the weekend frat party where everyone is drunk, breath seething with vodka, and sweatily rubbing up against each other, so horny for a release, and so desperate to feel something besides the headache from the loud music… who you somehow wind up in the closet with, his right arm holding you close against his body as his left hand slithers into your panties and forces itself into your cunt because he wanted you to play ‘seven minutes in heaven.’

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who promises that there’s nothing to be afraid of because he’s ‘secretly a sweetheart’ but calls you his “bitch” and pats his thigh, signaling that he wants you to come sit in his lap so that he can feel you up in front of his friends at the frat party when drinking cheap, shitty beer.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who swears he won’t bite but gets you so drunk at parties that you can’t even tell him no when he takes you upstairs, locks the door, and practically forces his hard, throbbing cock into you while holding you into a mating press, covering your mouth to suppress your cries as his tongue trails your jawline and neck.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who prays before every dinner, keeps a bible in the lowest drawer of his nightstand, and goes to church promptly at 10am every Sunday with his frat buddies despite being hungover. Sitting in the front pews, he listens intently to the preacher, letting the word of God spill into his heart even though he was rigorously fisting his cock the night before to your pictures on Instagram, cumming four times but his balls still swollen and cock still desperate for your messy cunt, having to hold back his needy whimpers each time his slender fingers brisk past his sensitive tip as he imagines your warm, wet tongue licking off the pre-cum.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who invites you to a Sunday lunch with his frat. Of course, he looks so polished: a clean, white button-up with a baby blue sweater hanging around his shoulders and a pair of new Sperrys. When you show him what you’re wearing, he tells you that you could do better as he convinces you to wear something a little low-cut but not too much because he doesn’t want his frat buddies to think he’s dating a slut.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin whose friends look at you like starving dogs when you both finally get to the restaurant, never including you in the conversation except for when they comment on your body and how irresistible it is.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who doesn’t defend you and instead soaks up all of this appraisal.

“Yeah, she’s a good toy to play with,” he proudly smiles while gripping your thigh in his strong, pale hands.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who makes you order a small salad and only allows you to drink water because “you need to watch your figure.”

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who’s the perfect predator, the perfect manipulator. He can do whatever he wants without ever getting caught, howling at the fact that you try to tell advisors or teachers how Armin violated and manipulated you, but they just never believe you. “You’re talking about Armin? Armin Arlert? He would never do anything like that,” they chuckle… because everyone knows Armin’s an angel; he’s part of the frat, so that makes him a good boy, right?

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who you can’t possibly ever escape from because he’s done such a good job at manipulating you to be his little slutty girlfriend, his heaven-like appearance making it impossible for others to believe what a devil he is, isolating you as he convinced all of your friends that you’re just some cock-hungry whore.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who has done such a good job at defiling you, successfully taking your virginity and eagerly pressuring you to do things for him, letting him so easily enter your sloppy cunt as he takes in the sight of your tender breasts, contorted face, and bright red hand imprints on your thighs.

ᵔᴥᵔ Fratboy!armin who despite all the manipulation and sexist comments, you don’t want to leave because he smells so sweet thanks to all the treats he eats; because his arm muscles look so good when he plays golf with his rude friends; because he makes your high from weed more fun as you two cuddle and talk about nonsense; because he is able to bury your shy side and awaken your submissive side as he slowly degrades the human being in you and raises a filthy slut whose pussy he makes so wet, so needy, and so pathetically sloppy.

[1000roughdrafts]

The (almost) Perfect Crime: Chapter Three

Warnings: language, alcoholism, violence (kind of) and threats of violence

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: This one is Dean’s POV, and as a reminder, this is an AU where Dean and Sam are not brothers, not related and don’t even really know each other that well. This was supposed to come out earlier today but I had a weird day and didn't schedule it I'm sorry

Masterlist

Chapter Two

Detective Dean Campbell parked his personal vehicle on the street a block down from the Golden Egg, just barely concealed behind a deteriorating fence. He glanced at his watch to note the time his subject entered the bar, and slouched back in the seat. He poured the remainder of his coffee into his mouth, scrunching his face as the undissolved sugar grates its way down his throat among the now cold brew. Clearing his throat, he glanced at his watch again, and then at the street as people came and went.

God, you stick out like a sore thumb, Dean, he thinks, sinking into the seat a little more. Figuring he had a little time before that scum of a man came back out anyway, he could use the distraction of flipping through the file he kept locked away until he was off the company dime.

The other detectives were sure he was off his rocker just for mentioning a distaste for Portland’s favorite lawyer, Sam Winchester. But those same assholes were on board when his hunch proved true about the judge that was accepting bribes. It wasn’t as high profile as a case like Sam’s would be, but damn, it really showed Dean that he just can’t trust anyone.

He’d been given an ultimatum by the director; he could either stand down, or step down. Except Dean’s never been one to let someone stand in the way of what’s right, no matter who they are or what power they hold. His investigation was just going to have to stay a secret until he’d gathered enough evidence to sway the DA into pursuing a case.

“Fuck,” he growled, slamming a hand on the steering wheel. His eyes were going cross-eyed combing through the same papers over and over as they looked for something, anything that would just jump out and help him solve this. He needed a break, badly, but anytime he took his eyes off the pictures and documents he could still see them like they were imprinted on the back of his eyelids.

A knock at the window startled him into dropping the papers into his lap. Looking through the window was Sam with a smug smile.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Dean said, forcing all of his strength into opening the door to slam it against Sam.

Lazily holding his hands in the air, Sam laughed. “Easy officer,” he said. Pointing at the Impala with a tilted head, he added, “you tailing me now, Campbell?” With a cocked head.

Dean rolled his eyes and stepped out, “the world doesn’t revolve around you, Winchester. I thought I’d stop by for a drink,” he said with a poised smile.

“Really?” Sam scoffed, “kind of looks like you’ve been following me,” he said. Making a pouting face, he said, “you’re a cop, Dean-o, don’t embarrass yourself like this.”

“Detective,” he clarified, “and I’m off duty… as I said, getting a drink.”

Sam nodded his head with the words, “which makes what you’re doing a crime, detective,” he chuckled, “you realize that right?” He looked around at the now nearly vacant street, “out in the open and all.” His laugh deepened as he turned to walk away, but after a few steps, he turned to face Dean. “You know, I could teach you a thing or two about staying hidden,” he smirked, “off the record, I swear,” he said, palms held up with a smug grin.

It took nearly everything in Dean not to hit him right then. He clenched his teeth and spoke through them, “over my dead body, Winchester.”

Sam tilted his head and tsked, “now, careful what you wish for, Dean-o,” he said, turning again to walk away.

“Your girlfriend know what you’re really up to when you’re ‘working’?” Dean called out.

Whirling around, Sam glanced at the bar and then back at Dean through squinted eyes before marching towards him.

“That wouldn’t be a threat, now, would it?” He said through his teeth while jabbing a finger into Dean’s chest.

Dean held his head high, and shrugged. “I know that I would never hurt her,” he said, then sucked air in through his teeth, “but could the same be said for you?” He let the air out and shook his head, “well, I’m sure we’ll all just be a lot happier when you’re behind bars,” he said, and in a harsher tone, added, “where you belong.”

Sam laughed, mocking Dean, “you can’t even get one detective on your side, let alone the DA, but yeah, go ahead and try your luck. See what happens.”

Dean rolled his eyes and let Sam walk away. He was nearly shaking with anger from just the thought of yet another day where Sam walks free, but if he wanted to get anywhere in his investigation, he’d need to get some sleep and grub.

—

The last thing Dean expected was to see Y/N sitting at a table on the balcony of the Golden Egg. He sat in a booth near the doors to eat and could see her through the glass with a woman he didn’t recognize. Y/N’s hair was tied up and for a lot of the conversation, which he wasn’t able to hear, she had her eyebrows raised and she sat very close to the table. Her drink was almost untouched and her leg was bouncing rapidly.

It felt weird for him to be so close to her, especially after the interaction he’d just had with her boyfriend. He ate his burger quickly as he snuck glances at her. If it weren’t for her long sleeves, and pants he’d have scanned her skin for bruises or marks.

Pulling cash from his wallet, he chugged the drink as he stood up. He threw the cash onto the table as he set the glass down and looked at Y/N one last time before turning to leave.

As he walked out, he wondered what side Sam showed her. It was hard to imagine that Sam treated her well. As he’d been tracking him for a while, he was well aware that they’d been together for the better part of three years. Hell, they even live together, and he hoped for Y/N’s sake that Sam was a good actor, because he knew that Y/N didn’t deserve to be with a guy like him. Hell, no one deserved that.

He thought about her the entire way home. The idea that she was so close to danger while being none the wiser really worked his nerves. He decided at that moment that nothing would get in the way of him building a case against Sam.

Pulling the Impala into the parking lot of his apartment complex, Dean wondered if sleep would escape him again like it had been for months. He jogged to his apartment and went straight for the beer in his fridge. His shoes came off only second to popping the top off and taking a sip of his sleep aid. It had become part of his routine; work on the clock for ten hours, then off the clock for anywhere from five to seven hours, drink a few or maybe several beers, and sleep (or try to sleep) for four hours, and that was if he was lucky.

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That night, luck wasn’t on his side as he would get about two and a half hours, spending most of it tossing and turning.

Chapter Four

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Sam <3 @fangirlxwritesx67 @immafangirlmess

The Almost Perfect Crime <3 @princessmisery666 @momowinchester @sizekinkshawty @deandreamernp

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