#he was so small and so stupid and so full of rage | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingmeraki · 4 months

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hurt hearts — k.mg drabble.

❝ in which you learn mingyu has a big heart ( and chest—) and he's terribly hurt while you might just beat the shit out of him.

( or mingyu's heart was already yours before you even knew it )

pairing : secret!agent mingyu x secret!agent reader, acquaintances stage. genre : fluff, angsty. warnings : mentions of injuries, treating wounds ( inaccurate forgive me🙏) mingyu ( he's a warning ).

a/n : the double update as promised hehe also the pic is not even related to the drabble but I just had to use it yk?? thank you to @etherealyoungk for feeding my delusions. also this got angsty quite quick 😭 ???( might do a summer fic with this mingyu hehehe ) pls I was also like naurr why is it so sad suddenly but eh it's fine. take this as some sort of teaser for the full secret agent mingyu fic I guess! and yes I will never get fed up of writing these two <3 let me know what you think of this mwah 💌

word count : 2.7k

“Are you fucking stupid?!?”

Silence enveloped the room as you asked in a voice laced with agitation.

It was all whispers of panic and chaos while you took in the scene in front of you, quiet and in your thoughts, but the more you thought of it, the more you got enraged.

“Do you even realise what could have happened?"

It seemed as though the wound on his chest was glaring at you as you spoke, unable to look away from it as it continued to bleed. You winced, frowning more as you shook your head.

Mingyu, on the other hand, like the true annoyance he was, blinked in surprise as he heard you cuss. It was rare you did, it was rare you talked actually, choosing to only answer in small replies.

Or maybe you just hated him because he swears he’s seen you not only talk but also laugh and giggle with Vernon and Chan, even Seungcheol!

He didn’t want to admit it before but now he can, he absolutely disliked the fact that you were more nonchalant to him than any other person. Was he the problem?

No, no negative thoughts right now. Perhaps you were just shy around him.

Right because a shy person would definitely be glaring at him with all the rage enough to just burn him with a gaze.

Who was he trying to convince? You hated him and for all he knew, he was just a nuisance in your life.

“Where’s Wonwoo?! Is Dr.Jeon not there?” You sat him down on the lounge chair in the agency building. It was supposed to mimic how an actual office building would be, hence they even did the extra and added the typical reception desk and waiting area at the ground floor.

Wonwoo? Since when were you on a first name basis with Wonwoo?

He frowned at that, he didn't want to admit it but it annoyed him just a little. Though. He did have other bigger problems right now.

Like the gash on his upper chest that was bleeding. But it seemed the adrenaline had dimmed down the pain. It felt more numb if anything.

“He-he left. I mean his shift is over there's no one—”

“How the fuck is there no other doctor on duty?! In a fucking place like this you'd expect at least one how—”

You pinched your nose and took a deep breath. You were on the verge of possibly killing someone.

Mingyu was bleeding and you needed to think.

“Seungkwan. Get me the first aid kit. Chan, go get some water. And you-”

You looked back at Mingyu in question,

“Can you walk?”

Instead of answering, he nodded curtly, not really wanting to provoke you than he already had. He knew when and where to speak up when he should. At least sometimes he did.

“Great, let's go to my room.”

[ A few moments later ]

Your office space was very…you. It was like a reflection of what he thinks you are.

Your artefacts, some polaroids with people in few and more so sceneries. It resembled a lot of you but also not enough to satisfy his curiosity. He wanted to know more.

He sat down on the sofa, a light pink coloured one, one that stood out in the monochrome room. But it was nice. It was pretty.

He also thinks you look pretty, even though you were tense, eyebrows scrunched as you cut the bandage tape precisely.

You look pretty all the time though.

“I'll need you to remove your shirt.”

Mingyu would love to hear so much from you, and wanted to hear you say so many things for him. This was one of them for sure, but definitely not in the circumstances he wishes.

“I-what? ” He chokes up, immediately sitting up from his leaned back position, one you forced him into when he came there.

You put down the bandage after you finished, looking at him with an eyebrow raised, now crossing your arms.

“How else do you want me to treat your wound?”

“You're-you’ll be treating it?”

“Does it look like there's anyone else right now who can? If you're scared, just trust me, I uh- I have experience from treating my own and others as well.”

You said it firmly because you realised the unsurety in his voice might be right. He didn't know that you knew basic first aid and actually more, it was a requirement for most agents but perhaps it was different here.

Mingyu did trust you. That wasn't what he doubted. He doubted himself, whether he'd be able to handle you touching him in any way. He's terrified he might pass out.

“Okay, now I'll need you to actually remove your shirt, I'll help if you-”

“NO!-uh no I'll do it myself.”

He immediately raised his hands and began unbuttoning, as the shirt got more loose, you focused on how the wound was.

It was a slice, not a stab luckily, so it wouldn't have caused as much damage as a stab would. But it still was damage that hurt.

He hissed in pain as his shirt moved away from his hurt chest, the wound being open to the air.

Slowly, he removed his other arm and finally got his blood soaked shirt out. He questioned where to put it without saying anything as he looked around but you just grabbed it and tossed it in the dustbin.

It was one of his favourites.

Seeing the slight pout on his face, you rolled your eyes because of course, Mingyu would find that to be an issue and not the fact that he was bleeding out.

“I'll get you another one.”

That made him look up at you, to which his eyes widened,

“Uh no I-”

“Shut up.”

You finished preparing the cotton to clean up his wound first, you turned to face him and for a brief moment you paused.

You didn't expect what was in front of you. Mingyu being shirtless was expected of course, but his toned torso and wait…were those abs??

You cleared your throat when you realised you might have been staring a little too long.

It wasn't like you weren't used to seeing people with muscular bodies or so. It was natural in your field for people to be fit.

But Mingyu. Holy shit, he looked like someone personally took their time on him.

“Uhm, okay so I'll just clean up your wound first and then disinfect it, then just bandage it up alright?”

Your voice sounded a lot less angry than before. Actually it sounded more timid if anything. It made Mingyu both shocked and curious as to why suddenly you'd seem so…nervous?

You moved to sit beside him, trying your best to not let your eyes waver more than they already have.

Unfortunately for you, fortunate for Mingyu, your eyes did wander and in fact lingered a little too long on his exposed chest. Along with his torso.

And he noticed.

And he realised.

Gulping slightly, no ordinary person would know but Mingyu did and the glint in his eyes shifted to something more confident, you raised your hand and gently began to clean the open wound.

It seemed it was not as deep as you initially thought.

Holy shit, I'm touching his chest.

You're not a teenager for goodness sake pull yourself together?!???

But his chest is buff and so- fuck. Fucking hell.

Your internal thoughts were in conflict as you cleaned up his wound, not even realising you were going over a place that was already cleaned.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed yours and you were startled out of your conflict.

“You already cleaned it enough,” Mingyu had to bite his tongue to not slip out any sort of pet names but that didn't stop the small smirk on his face from seeing your somewhat composed demeanour be a little thrown off by his sudden nakedness.

His hand holding yours made it seem like you were burning. It burned when he touched you.

And how would one react to a burn?

They'd move far away from the cause of said burn.

You pulled your hand out and stood up quickly,

“Right, right, I was just uh- making sure. I wouldn't want any infections or anything like that.”

You turned back to your first aid kit, turning your back on him and slightly shook your head.

Pull yourself together. He's just…a guy.

But was he really just any guy?

He was Kim Mingyu. The guy who caused you more stress than anything. The same guy who also would bother you a lot during missions.

And yet he was also the same guy who saved you today. You were ambushed during the mission and outnumbered.

It was you against six. You could handle them practically speaking but you also would have your attention split more than it should be. Meaning you wouldn't be prepared for a seventh guy from out of nowhere.

But Mingyu happened to be able to come there. On time too. As though he was keeping up with you despite being in another room with another problem.

What you didn't know was how quickly he made it out of that room when he heard you were ambushed. How he felt his heart drop when he heard you yelp in pain when you got attacked out of nowhere. How he couldn't actually care about the rest of the mission after that and what he cared about most was getting you out of there. Safely.

He knew perhaps it was risky to have jumped in front of you when you were going to get stabbed but darn it be him than you anytime.

Luckily you were also quick enough to make sure he wasn't actually stabbed and pushed him aside as you gained the extra hand and were able to take down the ambusher.

You were not at all happy with what he did. In fact, going as far as to not talking to him till you reached the agency because you were boiling in rage.

“You know you shouldn't have jumped in between like that.”

You said as you soaked up the cotton in hydrogen peroxide.

“But you would have gotten terribly hurt.” Mingyu frowned at your words. The doubt from before raising as to why you'd been so upset with him when he actually saved you.

“Yes but that would be my fault. I would get hurt in my own fight. I'd bleed and patch it up myself. There would be no one else hurt but me.”

You turned to face him, holding the cotton in your hand as you walked up again towards him.

“Not you who got hurt because of me. I wouldn't feel the…the guilt. You got hurt. Because of me.”

His eyes softened upon hearing your words. It made sense now. You were feeling guilty and that's why you'd been so upset. He thinks he'd feel the same too if you were to get hurt somehow because of him.

“I'm…I'm sorry I didn't think about that but I couldn't just sit back and let you get hurt knowingly, I just, I couldn't do that. Not to you.”

You sat back down to your original position, now having completely different emotions than before. But you weren't sure which you preferred because the current ones were only making you feel more worse if anything.

Lightly pressing the soaked cotton on his open wound, he hissed in pain as the alcohol came in contact with his open skin.

“It's fine Mingyu, you don't need to explain, I get it. I'd also do it. Thank you for…saving me.”

You don't need to thank me.I'd only do it for you though. I'd risk anything for you.

But instead he could only gasp in pain as you continued to clean,

“Yeah, what a time to say thank you when you're causing me only more pain.”

You rolled your eyes at his words but felt a little bad for him due to knowing the pain of hydrogen peroxide to an exposed wound.

“Oh, shut up now you big baby, this will help you.”

“Baby? Are we moving on to pet names now?”

“What??? I didn't- I didn't mean it that-”

“Oh I know, I was just messing with you.”

“You-!”

After a bit more cleaning and more arguing, you got up and grabbed the bandage.

“Now how will I wrap this?”

You questioned as you held it. He also got up, feeling a bit better but you still warned him not to move to much as the wound was not yet wrapped.

Then you got the idea of how to wrap it.

“Listen, what I'll do is wrap this around your entire chest, like the entire upper part alright? I don't have anything else besides this right now but it'll help temporarily. Tomorrow you go and get it properly dressed from Wonwoo.”

He nodded obediently and it was slightly cute as to how he almost resembled a little puppy quietly following instructions. Though you could see him getting tired from the way his eyes seemed to drift.

“I'll do it as quick as I can.”

And quickly you did, already wrapping over the wound enough,to the point Mimgyu had to tell you he felt like he couldn't breath and that's when you stopped.

No sign of blood.

You noted as you taped over the left over end part on the right side of his chest.

For this part, you were very close to him, to ensure the best precision. He was just glad it wasn't the left side of his chest or else you'd definitely feel how fast his heartbeat was going from the moment you got closer.

Mingyu likes you. Like really really likes you. You who stayed behind and treated his wound. You who felt guilty for him getting hurt for something he chose to do.

He thinks in this situation no matter how hurt he got, he was now sure about you. More specifically liking you.

“There. All done.” You patted down his chest lightly as you moved a little behind but before you could properly go, his hand out of nowhere held your own and pulled you closer.

It was unexpected so you couldn't help but stumble a bit as your eyes widened.

You were very close. Too close in fact you were sure if you moved a bit more closer, you might just end up kissing him.

It didn't seem like too bad of an idea.

“Mingyu, what are you doing?”

“I just, I want to tell you thank you for helping me out right now, properly.”

He smiled softly at you, his canines slightly peaking from beneath his closed lip smile and you swore you felt your body flush.

He looked…as handsome as he always did. Brown eyes shimmering in all sorts of emotions, lips a shade of pretty pink.

But you couldn't. You couldn't dare. Not now.

Clearing your throat, you pulled back and stepped behind, your body suddenly feeling a weird coldness from the sudden distance.

On the other hand, Minghu seemed confused. Did he push too far? He didn't mean to, he didn't want to rush anything, he just wanted to properly say thank you like actually say it and not do anything-

“It's alright. I hope you get better soon. I'll call Seungkwan to get you a shirt. You can get changed here. I'll just leave now, it's late anyways and you should to.”

“Have a goodnight agent Kim.”

Agent…Kim? Not even Mingyu?

Before he could even question your change of behaviour, you'd already moved out of your room as if you life depended on it.

As if you'd rather be anywhere but there.

As if you suddenly remembered your dislike towards him.

“Wait! Y/—”

Sighing out, in likely relief as you got out of your office, you made your way down to the lobby.

You couldn't help but feel the guilt, if not even more at how you left Mingyu just because you were a coward. Just because you didn't want to admit how he made you feel.

You couldn't do that to him. Not at this moment.

And perhaps you couldn't do that to him ever, for Kim Mingyu deserves the best.

And that was surely not you.

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celiime · 23 days

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୨ৎ — .ᐟ Him ‘n his stupid infinity! [Pt.3]

—> Part 3 belonging to the series of him ‘n his stupid infinity. Refer to part 1 and part 2 for earlier parts!

╰┈➤ Gojo Satoru is once more struck with the less than ideal dilemma of his cute underclassman hating him! It seems like no matter what he does, he always remains the object of your hatred—and he doesn’t even know why! Will today be the day where he finally has a chance to reduce your hatred? And maybe find out why you hate him?

Or in which, You hate Gojo Satoru! Him and his stupid limitless technique. Why does he only turn it on around you? A mere first year. Will today be the day you get some closure? Just why is his infinity activated at the mere sight of you?

warnings: fluff, literally one line of angst, reader is in denial and gojo is head over heels, they both r very loud students, takes place in 2006, reader is so cute…even gojo thinks so!! reader is a first year, gojo is a second year. ^.^

p.s—> i really enjoyed writing this! gojo n reader r my roman empire, i need them to get together soon ☹️ also— does anybody notice how gojo’s thoughts contain less exclamation marks when he’s not arnd reader? hehe—she just brings out the whiny man in him.

“I hate the rain! I hate umbrellas! Ughhh—“ A sniffle resounded from the classroom of the third years’ classroom, “Everything is working against me! Even her!”

“It’s peaceful.” His best friend, Geto, retaliated, throwing him a questioning look over his shoulder, “Since when do you not like the rain?”

His gaze traveled over to the six full plastic bags on Gojo’s desk, seemingly filled with all kinds of candies and snacks, did his best friend buy the whole convenience store or something?

“And do these…copious amounts of snacks have anything to do with it?” He thinks he could make quite a lucky guess.

For as long as Geto Suguru has known Gojo Satoru, it was always a silent fact acknowledged between them that Gojo has always been a fan of the rain—mainly due to the fact that he can activate his infinity at will whenever the rain pelts on him too hard.

But, who else does his infinity activate at will at?

“She hates me, Suguru.” A whine left Gojo’s mouth as he squished his cheek against the cool surface of the desk, eyes tracing the trail of the rain as it stained the windows. “Even when I’m being chivalrous! She denies all of my help!”

Geto can’t help himself from rolling his eyes, though with a hint of fondness, at how you’re mentioned once more.

He can admit that their underclassman is especially charming in your own way, but Satoru’s comical whining is getting old.

No matter what the conversation is about, Gojo always finds a way to bring up his dismay about the failure of his advances towards their underclassman.

If it wasn’t so consistent, then Geto would’ve thought that it was cute.

“What? Did you push her into the rain or something?” He chuckled, throwing his dismayed friend one last look before looking back towards the window, watching the raging rain.

Gojo’s expression dropped even more at the mention, “Why do all of you say that?! I’m not a monster!” A sigh left Gojo’s lips, his glasses discarded beside him on the desk as his gaze focused on two raindrops; a distance away from eachother, despite being on the same window glass.

A small smile unconsciously perks up the corners of his glossy lips.

If he could estimate the distance between those two drops, then he would say that they’re five feet apart.

Why, though?

Man! Even rain drops hated eachother! There was no hope!

“I just don’t understand why she has to keep her distance all the time! She’s so cozy with Haibara and Nanami, even with you and Shoko—but me?” He groaned, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “Bleh! I’m trash apparently, according to her.”

Silence persisted in the classroom for a bit, granting peace and only broken by the sound of the storm outside.

Before his best friend’s laugh rang out in the otherwise empty classroom.

“Are you the reason why she came back to the dorms looking like that?”

The smile on Geto’s face was undeniably teasing, shoulders trembling with the evidence of laughter as he shook his head fondly.

“Suguruuu! Don’t laugh! Just listen—“

“I’ll be right back.” Your voice rang out in the first years’ classroom, tugging your bag off the chair as you approached the door. “And you’re not off the hook, Haibara!”

A whine followed your words, but it was quickly muffled as soon as the door to the classroom closed behind you.

A sigh left your lips, hiking your bag over your shoulder, stretching as soon as the door closed. “Man…”

As far as you knew…it is raining, and you love the rain!

Today has been a bit of a hectic day, so you were glad that you would have the time to walk on your own, peacefully, all the way to the nearby convenience store.

“Oh?”

At the, unfortunately, familiar voice, you snapped your head up, hands tightening around the strap of the bag.

“What.”

Ew. Why is this infinity activating idiot here?! Did he never have class or something? You seriously doubt he even attends his classes—based off of what Geto told you.

Does he have nothing better to do than pick on you everyday?

“And where are you going?” Gojo’s voice rang out in the empty hallway, a smug lilt to his tone as he tilted his head at you.

While he worked hard to maintain the cool and unbothered front on the outside. He was mentally cheering on the inside.

Yay! Score for Gojo Satoru!

Man, fate really liked him. I mean—why else would he be bumping into you every other day like this?

An exasperated look rested on your features, eye twitching in irritation, “I don’t think…that’s any of your business, Gojo-senpai.” You emphasized on the honorific, trying to resist the urge to just walk away and leave.

You dislike him…but, you also have to maintain respect to an upperclassman.

At the honorific, though a common thing to hear from the first years, Gojo couldn’t help but feel his heart race—feeling as if a cupid’s arrow had pierced through it. Not the bad kind this time!

Gojo is willing to hang onto any string of hope, even if your current glare was snapping the thread.

“Aw, come on! I can’t be not suspicious if my cute underclassman is leaving class in the middle of the day with her bag.” A huff left his lips, the signature pout making its way onto his lips.

What a man child!

“Are you sick?”

Your eye twitched.

“Tired?”

Your lips settled into a frown.

“Are you injured? But you had no mission today!”

Your eyes narrowed into a glare.

“Or—!”

“Enough!” A cry leaves your lips as you glare up at him, eyebrows pinched together, “I’m going to the convenience store! There! Happy?”

Silence took over, filling the hallway as they remained standing—five feet apart—with you glaring up at him, hands clutching into the strap of your bag.

Huh—why was this idiot so silent?

For Gojo, it felt like everything else you said had went through one ear and left out the other, the tinted view of you through his glasses was almost intoxicating.

The way that you had to look up at him, okay maybe you were glaring but whatever, your eyes rounded with annoyance—it was a sight that he should’ve gotten used to.

But it still managed to make his heart lurch everytime you even looked at him.

“Can I come with?” An excited exclamation left his lips, eyes sparkling as he shot you a small pleading look, “Pleaseee!”

This was definitely his chance!

“No.” So blunt!

“Why nooot? ‘promise I’ll be good company!” A whine left his lips, “Besides, it’s raining!”

…

Hah? What was this idiot on about?

You shot him a weirded out look, “Okay? Thanks? I sure couldn’t guess from the rain pelting on the classroom window.”

Gah! Now he seemed like a total idiot!

“Wait! I mean—you don’t have an umbrella!” He flailed his hands around, a panicked look setting onto his features, “I have one! Who wants to walk in the rain without an umbrella, right?” A hurried laugh slipped from him.

Was the Gojo Satoru nervous? You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow.

Of course he was nervous! He has one chance to make this work!

“I’ll just borrow an umbrella from Haibar—“

Oh, hell no!

“No! No—he’s like—his umbrella is probably not as functional as mine!” He spouted anything he could, trying to salvage anything that could be saved.

You raised a brow.

Huh? What? That doesn’t even make sense! No way his idiocy could reach those levels.

“That doesn’t even make sense! Your cursed energy is messing with your head or something!” You huffed, “Over my dead body will you accompany me!”

“Woooo!”

The sound of an umbrella opening echoed infront of the entrance of Jujutsu Tech, lost in the noise of the rain hitting the concrete harshly.

“Do you even want anything from the convenience store? Or are you looking for any reason to be anywhere but class?” You scoffed, crossing your arms as you watched him open the umbrella.

“You can’t keep skipping, yknow.” He skipped class way too much.

A nervous look was thrown to the storm outside, biting down on your bottom lip as you looked back at the umbrella in his hands.

How was his umbrella going to cover the both of you if you maintained the five feet rule?

Oh.

And the infinity.

Despite willing yourself to not get your hopes up, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would actually be decent this time and would keep his infinity off. No way he went through all this trouble only to have you stand in the pouring rain, right?

Gojo threw you an offended look, “Eh?— I just want to accompany my underclassman to the convenience store, like a good upperclassman would!” Before his shoulders dropped, a faux look of exasperation crossing his features.

“And I guess I could get something or two for Suguru.”

This was it! His chance to impress you and charm you away!

“It is my duty, as your faithful upperclassman, to make sure you’re safe all the time!” A charming smile perked up on his glossy lips, placing his hand over his heart in a display of chivalry.

Yaaay! He was probably looking cool as hell right now! You must totally be falling in love with him right now!

“Keep me…safe while going to the…convenience store?”

On his precious underclassman’s face was a smile, one so soft and sweet that he was afraid he would melt if he kept staring at it for too long.

your eyes carried a glint of a sparkle in them—a contrast to the gloomy weather—and Gojo always thought he had the prettiest eyes but—

He was seriously starting to doubt that now.

“That’s the dumbest thing, ever. I’m a sorcerer too, no?” You let out a small chuckle, exchanging a small glance with his glasses covered eyes.

The carrier of six eyes could pass down the title of the prettiest eyes to someone else now.

And oh—that chuckle.

His hand tightened around the handle of the umbrella, feeling a small lump form in his throat.

You shook your head, flashing him a weird look at his sudden silence, “Whatever, Gojo-senpai. Let’s just go. I don’t want to stay around you longer than necessary.”

So mean!

Tipping the umbrella forward, Gojo nodded his head towards the school doors, “After you.~”

He was being such a gentleman! Oh—how your heart must be fluttering for him right now!

“Idiot.” You scoffed.

He was such an idiot. Did he think he was in a movie or something?

A sigh left your lips, shaking your head in reply, “Don’t get me wet.” You mumbled in a warning tone, noticing how he held the umbrella at arm’s length.

A suggestive smirk flashed on his features, “Oh?~”

Your cheeks heated up, “Creep!” You huffed, walking beside him as they exited the building, protected from the rain by the shade of the umbrella above both of you.

“What a shameful excuse for an upperclassman. Good thing we have Shoko-senpai and Geto-senpa—“ You paused, noting something.

Huh…no infinity. You are…walking under the same umbrella.

Sure, you weren’t exactly standing close like you should be under an umbrella, there was some distance, but his umbrella was big enough to cover both of you even while there was a small distance between you.

3 feet!

Hwaaah! They were three feet away and he didn’t activate his infinity! This was…a big achievement.

You cleared your throat, directing your gaze down as you focused on the splashes caused by your steps, pressing your lips into a straight line as you fought back the heat on your cheeks.

“Ahem…”

Confused by the sudden silence, Gojo turned his head to the side, tilting his head as he stared down at you, “Hey, yo—“

Ah?—

Gojo’s breath hitched, feeling his chest constricting as soon as he saw the absolutely bashful look on your face.

Gojo is familiar with looks of bashfulness, he’s a witness to these expressions each time a girl bounds up to him with red cheeks and a compliment. He’s not new to these looks—in fact, they’ve gotten quite old to see.

But…

Gojo thinks that a bashful look is absolutely precious on his little underclassman. It’s a sight that he doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of, no matter how much he encounters it.

“What’s with the radio silence, hm? Did I finally charm you? I knew it would happen!” He slipped in a quick remark in order to save face, trying to uphold his cool front.

“What? Cat got your tongue—oh wait, my bad. I forgot you’re like a little kitten, heh.”

It had always been a wish to see you flustered because of him, to see you blush and get embarrassed by him.

He’s starting to take back his words now.

He doesn’t think it will be good for his heart if he sees the sight of you being flustered, it isn’t healthy for it to be tugging at his heart this much.

His hand tightened around the handle of the umbrella, unconsciously tilting it a bit towards you in order to shield you from the rain completely.

His precious little underclassman.

You looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat, before turning your head towards him. This seems like a good time to finally crack the question.

“Gojo-senpai…” Oh, his heart stopped at the honorific, “Why do you always—“

Everything you said went through one ear and left out the other. Fuck. His heart was racing way too much, he couldn’t focus on anything but your bashful expression and that..

Honorfic.

It was dripping with honey whenever you uttered it out.

His eyes rounded behind his glasses, a subtle red flush spreading across his cheeks. His face felt like it was on fire, the heat unbearable. It felt like this is the first time he’s been flustered.

Like the tables have been turned.

“Gojo-senpai?” Fuck. You said it again.

“Are you listening to m— Ah!”

Before either of you knew it, you felt an invisible force repel, no—force you away from Gojo, almost as if a wall had suddenly formed between you.

It quite literally felt like, instead of only forming a barrier between you as usual, it pushed you away.

“Hey—!” A panicked call left Gojo’s lips, eyes widening.

You stumbled over your feet, due to not having time to process the sudden push, a small squeak leaving your lips as you slammed down onto the floor—right on your butt. Ouch.

“Fuck—“ A hurried curse slipped past Gojo’s lips as he looked down at you, “Hey, are you alright? What happened?”

A small hiss left your lips as you felt the cold rain water pelt harshly onto your head, soaking you from head to toe in no time. Your fingers twitched, feeling the hard concrete under them.

So much for not wanting to get wet.

This…despicable man!

You kept your head down, trying to will yourself to calm down, taking a deep breath.

“Hey.” Gojo lowered his voice, brows furrowing in concern at your sudden silence. He kneeled infront of you, keeping the umbrella over him—you were already wet anyways. “What’s up? Did you hurt yourself or something? Let me see.”

At his words, your head snapped up, eyes narrowed into a glare, face contorted into an angered expression, “What’s wrong with you?!” Seriously! Did he find any of this funny?

Huh? What did you mean what was wrong with him? Is it so bad to want to check up on his junior? Arrest him then!

He huffed, tilting his head with a confused hum, “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re the one who tripped. Don’t blame it on me!” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head disapprovingly, “You really ought to stop being so clumsy.”

He internally cooed. Poor underclassman, these strong winds probably pushed you! Worry not, he’ll protect you!

You sneered. “Do you not have a single serious bone in your body?”

Was this idiot being for real? This really was not a funny joke, this was you constantly getting humiliated whenever you were around him.

This time, you would not only be humiliated, but will also get a cold! Ahh! This was so frustrating!

“Shut up! I’m not laughing! Nobody is!” You could feel the tip of your nose freezing, hair sticking to your face as the water seeping into your uniform weighed you down, a shiver running down your spine.

Seriously, why were you always so against him helping you? Your hatred for him really ran a long way, huh?

“You always do this! How hard is it to not do it? Will you die if you hold back from doing it?” You huffed.

“What are you on about? I think the rain water is getting into your brain!” A pout pulled down the corners of his lips as he looked at you, “Why would I go through all the trouble of getting you to walk with me if I was going to deliberately push you or something?”

You really weren’t making sense to him! He was only being chivalrous and helping you. What did you mean by he always does this? Be a gentleman? Duh!

A frown rested on your lips, “I don’t know? You’re so complex! You always end up doing this. What about me is so intimidating?”

Nothing. Gojo thinks that nothing about you is intimidating except for your beauty, that’s the most intimidating thing about you.

Besides, how could he ever find you intimidating when, even though you were on the ground and he was kneeling infront of you, you still had to look up at him? You were so small.

“You? Intimidating? Please. A little kitten is more intimidating than you.” He chuckled, shaking his head, a teasing smile on his lips.

Gojo thinks that’s the most precious sight he would ever grow to see in his life. He finds himself feeling bad for everyone else that never had the opportunity to view such a cute sight like you in the rain—

but, he also finds himself feeling prideful that he’s the one to see it.

He’s such a lucky bastard, no?

“Nevermind! I don’t want to go to the convenience store! What’s the use, anyways?” You retaliated, a hand raising to your head to brush away the strands of hair sticking to your face—

Gojo’s heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t approach me ever again! I’ll tell everyone at school how despicable you really are! Hmph.”

“Wait wait—what?! No! I’m the totally cool and dashing upperclassman that loves all his underclassmen—“ You the most. “And all his underclassmen love him!” Except you. And Nanami.

Bless Haibara’s soul.

You shot him an exasperated look, “Your delusions are stronger than your cursed energy.” You mumbled under your breath, breath coming out in a small cloud of air—a testament to how cold you are.

Internally, Gojo felt horrible, seeing you this cold, fighting to not shiver and your face turning red, but it was also adorable.

“Huh?! That’s so mean! Where do you store all of that hatred, huh?” He pouted, feeling an arrow strike his heart at your direct comment.

“Shut up.” You grumbled, supporting your weight on your hands as you stood up, kneeling down and picking up your drenched bag, “I knew it was wrong to trust you.”

At your words, a lump formed in Gojo’s throat, hand tightening around the handle of that stupid umbrella. He looked up at you from his kneeling position, watching you stand up and adjust your bag over your shoulder.

You always said hurtful things to him, but it resonated a lot more with him this time. Even when you hurt him with your words, you still looked as majestic as ever.

Did you ever think about how alluring you are?

“Hmph. My bad for wanting to help you!” He huffed, standing up and closing the umbrella, tucking it under his arms as he folded them, “Where’s my ‘Oh thank you, Gojo-senpai! You’re the coolest upperclassman ever!’ ?”

Your eye twitched at how he pitched up his voice, a horrible impression of you, “Go die, Gojo-senpai!”

You glared at him, before turning your back to him, walking back to the school, “I don’t want to see your face today.”

What?!— No!

“Wait—! I’m sorry!” He hurriedly followed after. He doesn’t even know what he did!

“I don’t care!” You looked at him over your shoulder, the rain falling harshly on your head, “Don’t—!” In your haste of wanting to berate him once more, you stumbled over your feet—for the second time that day.

Can you really be blamed? The concrete was wet and slippery and your wet shoes and socks weren’t doing you any justice. Plus the soaked clothes!

Gojo’s eyes widened, a panicked curse escaping his lips before—with his fast reflexes, he was the strongest after all—he stepped towards you, acting on instinct.

He hastily slid his arm around your waist, wrapping around it as his palm rested on your clothed stomach, supporting your back against his sturdy frame.

“I got you.” His tone dropped in pitch, holding you close against his chest, “Don’t worry.”

…

A small gasp left your lips, shoulders tensing up as you looked down, gaze falling on his giant palm that rested on your stomach, nearly taking up the whole circumference, your back pressed against his clothed chest, able to feel his sturdy muscles through his wet uniform.

His wet uniform…the rain is falling on him, he’s touching you…his infinity isn’t on!

You swallowed, heart stuttering in your chest, “Huh—“ You looked up at him, eyes round with shock, cheeks heating up despite the cold weather. “You’re…”

This is the first time…they’ve touched—let alone stood this close to eachother.

“You—“ He let out a staggering breath, arm tightening around your midsection, “See? I helped you..”

Gojo’s heart positively felt like it was about to burst, not only at how soft you felt under his touch, but also at the way you looked up at him.

Hair wet, looking up at him with those round eyes, filled with wonder and awe, rain water dripping down your cheeks—and most of all, the rosy tint on your cheeks that strangely matched the color on his cheeks.

Fuck. You were so cute.

His heart picked up the pace, not knowing how to react to this new overwhelming sensation he felt being this close to you.

“…” You pressed your lips together, feeling your clothes weigh you down as your stomach fluttered, “Gojo—senpai, you—!”

And of course, his body acted on his instincts, on what he knew to do best when the adrenaline rushed in.

Infinity.

A yelp left your lips as you stumbled forward, barely having the time to balance yourself and regain your footing—thankfully you managed to do it this time, and didn’t end up on you already sore bum.

You were just getting thrown around today like a damn ball! This is getting ridiculous! Can’t you get a break?!

“Huh? Is this your way of thanking me?” His annoying whine returned, gone his flustered nature and replaced with a pouting one, “Do you not feel soooo safe and protected in my arms..?”

Gah!— He just couldn’t win! Never with you!

“You jerk! You just don’t know when to stop!” You stomped your foot angrily, the water pooled on the ground splashing at your little movement.

You wholly believe he uses his technique to have fun more than he uses it to kill curses. The universe gifted the wroooong person!

“You’re so childish and you lack any type of common sense. You just enjoy getting my hopes up, huh?!” Damn him and his stupid limitless—his infinity, his six eyes!

“What hopes?! You’re the one who flips a switch all the time whenever I do something nice.” He huffs, crossing his arms, a pout on his glossy lips as he looked away.

Was being mean to him your way of denying you’re flustered? Weird. “You don’t know how to say thank you!”

You ignored how downright attractive he looked with his hair sticking to his face, wet with water and not in its usual style, “That’s because you don’t deserve it. Go die!”

You huffed, straightening your posture, before turning your back to him, stomping back to the school. You didn’t even feel hungry anymore.

Was it from the fluttering you felt in your stomach? That was probably just your stomach turning in disgust at the sight of him!

A dismayed hum left Gojo’s lips, rolling his eyes begrudgingly as he watched you walk away, “Talk about a moody underclassman, gee…” He snatched his phone out of his pocket, dialing a number.

“Heh…she looked like a soaked kitty, I should’ve snapped a pic.”

He held his flip phone to his ear, staring at his umbrella on the floor.

Huh? Why wasn’t he getting wet?

Since when did he turn on his infinity? Must be instinct as a response to the rain. He shrugged.

“Ah! Haibara! My favorite guy!” He grinned, pressing the phone to his ear, “Would you do your cool upperclassman a favor? Do you happen to know what a little moody kitty likes to eat from the convenience store?”

“Huh?— Hey— What happened?”

“Your best friend happened, Geto—senpai.” A sigh left your lips.

“Silly Satoru…what ever am I going to do with him.” A fond sigh left his lips.

“Kill him—“

“Alright alright.” He let out a small chuckle, charming, “Go to your room and change. Don’t catch a cold, ‘kay?”

He was so charming. The perfect example of an upperclassman, not like that other bastard.

Geto chuckled.

Hah…

Gojo would freak out if you got a cold, anyways.

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shotmrmiller · 9 months

Text

The thought of toxic Dom!Simon not being exclusive with you is actually tilting me so I’m gonna write about it.

–

As per usual, you’re draped over Johnny’s legs on the couch, listening to him talk his nonsense when he brings up Ghost.

“...yeah and Ghost, lass, I’m tellin’ ye, he has got to be hurtin’ the lasses he takes to his quarters. He had this new medic in there screaming and…” but his voice fades, your heartbeat thundering in your ears drowning him out.

He had another woman in his bed. Bastard.

Your eyes sting as your blood boils. Jaw aching from how hard you’re clenching it.

Stupid fucking asshole.

Of course, you hadn’t brought it up. Not like you could, with how he had stuffed your mouth with his cum— but that’s beside the point. Here you had thought it was a given. But no, that motherfucker wastes no time in fucking other bitches while he has you constantly checking your phone hoping he sends a text.

Practically begging for his attention and he’s too busy getting his dick wet.

And there’s no one to blame but yourself. You’re the one who chose to put your feelings into this. He, at no point in time, strung you along. Congratulations, you played yourself. But that doesn’t mean you’re gonna sit there and take it. If he gets to fuck other people, then so do you.

Johhny’s yelp snaps you out of your own furious inner ramblings.

“Hen, ouch! Mind the claws, eh?”

You unclench your hand— you hadn’t realized you were digging your nails into his skin.

“Ye a’right there? Yer face is bright red,” he remarks and you put your clammy hands onto your cheeks in an attempt to calm down.

“Yeah, I’m alright, Johnny boy.”

Releasing a tense breath, you turn to him with a toothy smile.

“Hey, didn’t you have a single friend I could meet? I haven’t gotten laid in—” and Johnny cuts you off with a swipe of his hand.

“Och! Naw! I dinnae care to know ‘bout yer flings. Cease yer yappin’.”

You arch one eyebrow at him and tartly say, “Oh, but I gotta sit here and listen to yours? How does that make sense?”

“I’m the older brother, hen. Do as yer told,” and he yelps again when you pinch his thigh at that. He’s rubbing the spot and you try to not feel guilty at the fact that you might’ve pinched a little too hard— you’re still frothing at the mouth over that asshole.

“So?” you ask again, “Any cute friends?” and he rubs at the scar on his chin before nodding.

“I do. Name’s Gaz. Er, Kyle. He’s been wantin’ to meet ye, actually. I talk about ye all the time and he’s gotten curious. Can give ye his number if ye want. And I dinnae wanna hear ‘bout anythin’ that happens, ye hear me?”

He pulls out his phone and sends you Kyle’s contact. You text him immediately and he responds within minutes.

Johnny snaps his fingers to get your attention and you look up from your phone.

“Snap at me again and I’m biting your fingers off,” you snarl.

“Ye could try, hen. I’ll be back, gonna go get the food we ordered,” and you nod but then Johnny taps your head with his finger.

“And be nice to Gaz. He’s a good lad.”

Rolling your eyes, you say, “Yes, da. I understand,” and he leaves.

The conversation between you and Kyle is light-hearted small talk until he sends a picture of himself wearing aviators— and you can see Ghost’s form in the background. Your rage comes back in full force.

You open snapchat and click on a filter that gives you cat ears and a collar with a bell— taking a photo of yourself holding up two fingers on Johnny’s couch, then press send.

Your phone vibrates and quickly look to see what Kyle said but it’s not him. It’s an unknown number.

You send pictures of yourself to all of Johnny’s friends?

His fucking nerve. The audacity. You grind your teeth and hold back the urge to throw your phone against the wall.

Your nails clack angrily on your phone screen as you reply.

Worry about yourself and that little medic of yours.

A couple of minutes pass with no response until you get a phone call from the unknown number.

You answer the call with a sharp “What.”

“That’s what this is about, pet? Ya mad at me so you throwin’ a tantrum?” he tauntingly chuckles.

You might burst a vessel from the indignation of it all, so you do the only thing you can do. Hang up and block him.

Asshole.

You can’t wait to fuck Kyle and send Ghost the sex tape.

jokes on you, though cuz Ghost just gon show up at Johnny's flat sporting big dark hickeys on his neck lmao i hate him

@luminousbeings-crudematter

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2

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phas3d · 3 months

Text

Annoying Habits Pt. 2 || Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: none

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: cute and stupid things they do because i love fluff for some reason right now - 🐍 :: masterlist!

DRACO MALFOY (saying "fun facts" that's common knowledge)

Being the smartest person in the room is the hardest thing ever, so thank GOD Draco is not him. He will run to you with full confidence to tell you about any new discovery he makes. It's new to him, but common sense to everyone else. But you don't have the heart to tell him it's basic knowledge because you know he'll never trust you again.

"You HAVE to follow me, it's the craziest thing EVER!" Draco said as he dragged you out of your dorm to run to the quad.

Whenever he's done this, you knew you needed to put on your best ever acting skills. You follow behind him, trying to predict what he'll say but before you complete those thoughts, he cuts you off.

"LOOK. AT. THIS!" He says as he points at the sky. You were confused, genuinely unsure of how to react since you weren't sure what to be shocked at.

"Oh wow uh, that's amazing!" You say hesistantly."

Draco was unsatisfied with your reaction, understanding that you had no clue what he was referencing too.

"Love," He paused for dramatic effect "Do you not see the MOON is fully in view during broad daylight?"

He said it with the highest confidence, somehow gaslighting you into genuinely feeling dumb despite knowing the moon is out during day time.

"W-Wow! You're so smart!" You say as an automatic response as he smiles, glad to teach you something.

"I know I am" He says, despite it not being in his personality list at all.

TOM RIDDLE (mocking you)

It is in Tom's blood to be mean, since he is he son of Voldemort. This caused him to have a tremendously hard time trying to make friends. Even when he acted as if he was a normal person, he would get tired and eventually snap to his true self: a blunt cold person. Because of this, he's not sure how to act in most situations since he has no clue how to react to most things. Thankfully, he has you to show him how to act.

When you two watch movies, he pays attention to you as well to see how to react. Or when you go out and talk with others, he copies your little mannerisms. It was cute at first to know that you're helping him adjust to society. But it quickly become annoying since he is extremely good at reading you.

It's gotten to the point where he can predict almost everything that you'll say, matching your tone, pitch, and even lisp perfectly. You could say nothing during a conversation and he'd be able to fill in the gaps exactly how you would.

"Tom-" You were interrupted.

"Where's my science notebook?" Tom mocks you, using a higher voice and over-exaggerating your harsh k's.

You sigh, which he also copied, before you playfully hit him with a small smile. "I told you to stop copying me!" You and Tom both say in unison.

"Your book is on your bed, hidden under your unfolded clothes. I recommend you clean it, I can tell all of your clothes are wrinkled already." He says as he flips his book to the next page.

"Oh shut up" You say as Tom copies you yet again.

MATTHEO RIDDLE (Annoying Tom)

Although Tom and Mattheo don't interact much in public, in private the two have a strong bond that can only be understood by each other. Their usual converstations consist of Mattheo raging about something, going into insane detail while Tom silently reacts whilst doing his homework. Then, Tom will give Mattheo a lecture on why what he did was fucking stupid which Mattheo spaces out to.

Since you've been with Mattheo for almost a year, you've been graced with the Riddle brother's bond, witnesses their odd converstations first hand. You've gotten used to it, blending perfectly in to their bond.

One thing that surprised you was the fact the Mattheo suddenly turns into the most annoying and needy person ever the second he's with Tom.

"Can you shut the fuck up and do your work?" Tom said, annoyed at the fact that you and Mattheo were sitting at his table in the library.

"It's not due until midnight! I'll just run to Snape's class at like 11:59 sharp." Mattheo said as he continued to make fake paper swords and shurikens.

"Okay sure do that, dumbass, see what happens." Tom mumbles, finally gave up on trying to convince his brother to do his work.

"You should listen to him~" You said as you flipped the page of your textbook whilst taking notes.

"Don't side with him! You're MY girlfriend!" Mattheo said annoyed by your words.

Tom smirked and nodded his head at you slightly, showing his small appreciation for you siding with him.

THEODORE NOTT (lying for fun)

He's basically like SZA, lying for fun because it's a good conversation starter. He first started doing this when he first came to Hogwarts because he wasn't sure how to start a conversation with someone. He would lie by saying he never had popcorn before or that he's allergic to dragon scales so people would be interested.

Now he's popular and has no need to lie for attention. But, it's an addiction. He can't stop making silly lies that are just borderline believable. But now he's widen his horizon, now he lies about history, teachers, other people, and more.

"Did you know Draco's mom is colorblind?" Theo said as he entered the Slytherin dorm. You sighed, already being able to tell he was lying since you knew him so well.

"Whaaaat?! Is she? Like for real???" Lorenzo questioned as to how Theo found out before himself, especially since he was raised by the Malfoys. "That makes sense why her outfits for funny lookin' sometimes."

"That's so sad man." Mattheo said solemly, as if Theo just said Draco's mom suffered from a permeant disease. "She sees life like those old ass Mickey Mouse cartoons. All black and white."

The three idiots looked down at the floor, feeling pity for Draco's mom colorblindness. you scoffed at their stupidity but suddenly Enzo spoke up.

"We should make her a get well soon card!" He said with a smile.

"Don't do that-" You were cut off by Theo's hand covering your mouth.

"No we should! Make sure you only use black and grey though." Theo said.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE (repetitive questions)

Although Lorenzo was the same age as you, he still trusted you way more than himself. You helped him pick everything, from outfits, food, dates, and more. Of course he would help too, but he just loved hearing your input since he wants to be the perfect boyfriend for you.

But, this habit of getting your approval for things started to sneak into schoolwork and paperwork. It started with him checking his answers with you, a completely normal thing. Then checking that his paper was the same as yours, also pretty normal. But as time progressed, he would ask you to double-check his stuff on dumb stuff like whether he grabs the 10th-grade paper or the 11th-grade paper, or what he puts in the "date" section at the top.

It's been even worse lately since he was applying for multiple colleges around the UK and US. You were doing the same, needing to desperately focus on your essays and studies to do the different school's entrance exams.

"(Y/NNNN)!" Lorenzo called out to you, despite you being literally 2 feet away from him.

"Yessss, Lorenzooooo?!" You said, giving the same energy back.

"Where it says "enter social security number" do I put my social security number?" He asks, full seriousness in his tone.

At this point in your life, you were so sick of this man so all you could do was stare at him until he decided to guess what he should do. You stare was strong, but his innocent eyes and cute face was overpowering you.

You weakly nodded, losing the one-sided battle. You thought it would be the last question from him, maybe he would get the hint you were annoyed.

"So, where it says "pick major" I put the thing I want to major in, right?"

thank you for the support ! 🐍 :: masterlist!

#harry potter x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #harry potter #harry potter headcanon #harry potter fluff #slytherin headcanons

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zweiginator · 3 months

Note

enemies to lovers with patrick is cool….BUT ENEMIES TO LOVERS WITH ART

like that man is a hater when he doesn’t like someone. i bet its so so intense

yup. and it's just one of those situations where neither of you remember why you hate each other so much. it's just a fact of life. the sky is blue. ice cream is sweet. and you and art donaldson fucking hate each other.

you met in middle school; you had just moved to town and started on the tennis team. art was good, great even. but you were fresh meat, and you were pretty and you got all the attention that year.

and then came high school, and even though you and art obviously never formally competed in tennis, you were always doing so subconsciously. you avoided each other at team dinners, never spoke at parties and even slapped him across the face hard enough to get you suspended for a week after he said you only made varsity after another girl moved away to maryland.

neither of you could even enjoy your full-ride sports scholarships to stanford, once you figured out the other would be joining you. four more fucking years.

you and art feigned the biggest smiles you could muster for the local newspaper in your stanford tennis hats, and scrubbed your arms raw afterwards, disgusted that you had to touch each other.

but stanford was big. and since he was obviously on the boys' team and you the girls, you didn't see each other as often as before. your friends on the tennis team mingled with him, and hung on his arm during formal events. you went on a few dates with one of the boys on the team, although there was never a spark.

one day at a team dinner, high school and hometowns came up. and everyone was confused that you both were from the same small town.

"you grew up together?" your teammate asked.

"yep." art raised his eyebrows, unamused.

"i've never seen either of you speak a word to each other."

"don't need to." you said.

another teammate, michael, spoke up. "something happen?" always nosey.

"he's a raging piece of shit." you moved your rice around your plate, plastering a fake smile on your face.

"and you're a bad fucking tennis player." he would never call you a name.

"so is that why we are on the same team?" you got up. "excuse me. i just became a little nauseated."

art stood up too. "yeah, me too."

you both went your separate ways to the bathroom, heated. the way he knew exactly how to crawl under your skin and rub and rub at the same sore spot until it drove you crazy made your cheeks red and your knuckles white.

you had a tennis party that night, after dinner. a mandatory tennis party--your coach had a roster and everything.

when you showed up, art was wearing a tux with a maroon tie. you wore a purple gown, silky with a deep neckline.

art turned away from you, swirling his glass of champagne.

it started with your eye roll. the whole night chasing each other like cat and mouse. it was fun, making digs at his stupid jokes, embarrassing him in front of girls he was flirting with.

art talked over you all night and scoffed at everything you said; played devil's advocate.

when he went out to smoke at 10:30, you followed him.

"leave me alone!" art turned away from you, shielding his cigarette to light it.

you don't know why you were being such a bitch. you tore it from his mouth and smashed it with your heel, and art called you out for it.

"why are you being a fucking bitch?" he snapped.

"excuse me?"

"yeah i called you a bitch because i don't know what else to call this pathetic, obsessive behavior."

"obsessive?" you stepped closer to him. "nobody is fucking obsessed with you."

art grabbed you by the chin. "lose the fucking attitude."

you retaliated, grabbing his wrist. "you started this."

"oh god," art scoffed. "yeah, sure I started it. you followed me out here."

your heart was beating fast. maybe for the past fourteen years you had been blind to him and he to you. because right now art looked different. his once crooked teeth were straight, spotted skin smooth and peppered with stubble. art noticed your pink lip gloss, the low cut of your dress, how it hugged your figure.

you grabbed his tie, and his hands found your ass as you kissed him. his hair was soft and smelled like sea water and coconut. he moaned against you, pushing you against the brick wall outside. the strap of your dress fell down and art's hand found your breast, his thumb rubbing against your nipple as your hand grazed against his cock, hard and visible, even through his pressed trousers.

"what are you doing?" you asked, gasping.

"what are you doing?"

you ignored him.

"did you drive here? where's your car?"

art took you there, to his black sedan, his hands on the small of your back, his hips rutting into you. the door was still ajar, the repetitive beeping of his car a mantra in your ears.

art bunched your dress up, admiring your pussy as he pressed a kiss to it, wet and needy. he would never tell you he had dreamt of it since he was fourteen.

#challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #enemies to lovers #oooh i need him #also i dont proofread tthese sorry #ask

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draconic-desire · 5 months

Text

DD’s Yandere Poll Series: Surviving the Yan!Penacony Boys (based on this post)

Rules/warnings: Read the below scenario and pick your answer or comment your own reaction. Dark content ahead!

Incident #3 — The Interrogation

Bright light floods your vision, eliciting a hiss as you repeatedly blink to regain your senses. Shielding your eyes is useless; your hands are pinned tightly behind your back, your wrists already starting to throb.

Once your eyes adjust, you find yourself tied to a chair, arms and legs bound to the wooden frame with thick rope. A few tugs and attempted kicks lead you to quickly relent that your bindings aren’t budging.

Shaking the fuzz from inside your head, you examine your surroundings.

While most of the room is cloaked in shadows, your chair is illuminated with a bright spotlight, highlighting the laminated flooring beneath your feet. Directly in front of you stands a long bar, perched upon a podium to elevate any individual behind it. The room is completely bare otherwise, giving a cold, clinical appearance.

How in the Aeons’ names did I end up here?

“Ah, you’ve finally regained your senses.”

You jolt, the voice to your left sending gooseflesh across your skin. It’s deep, full of condescension and authority, and almost certainly male. Sweat trickles down your neck.

Confirming your suspicions, a tall, muscular figure steps from the shadows beside you.

Your already rapid heartbeat skyrockets. Despite his scowl, the man is undeniably handsome—golden eyes to complement his dark purple locks, full lips and strong, toned arms on display thanks to his single-sleeved attire. You’d typically be blushing as he grips the back of your chair with one arm and leans down close to your face, if it weren’t for the unwelcome and compromising position you’re in.

You struggle to swallow. “I—um, sir, there must be some mistake—”

“You are (Y/n) (L/n), are you not?” he interrupts. His breath, minty with a touch of sage, tickles your nose as he closes the gap between the two of you even further.

“Um, yes…?” You cringe at how pathetic you sound, but really, how else are you supposed to react when a stranger has you apparently kidnapped and tied up?

The man rolls his eyes. “Come now, at least admit to your own name. If you can’t do that, how can you own up to the consequences of your actions?”

Head spinning, you ignore the fact that you think he just implied you’re stupid to instead focus on his latter comment. Despite your situation, you can’t help the spark of indignation that rages in your chest. Maybe that’s what makes you stupid: your sharp tongue. “Excuse me? Consequences? Are you lecturing me? And how do you know my name? Who even are you? Why am I here?”

Tilting his head slightly, the man lets a subtle smile pull at his lips. “Finally asking the right questions.” He stands and paces behind the podium in front of you, appearing like a judge presiding over court.

“My name is Dr. Veritas Ratio, and you, (Y/n), are my wife.”

You jerk back like you’ve been hit. That is certainly not what you were expecting.

A startled laugh escapes you. “I don’t have a husband.”

Ratio hums in response, jotting down something in a book he pulled from his robes. “And what is the last thing you remember before you woke up here?”

“Woah, woah, are we just going to glance over the fact that you’re claiming we’re married?!” you shout, panic creeping into your bones. So not only have you been kidnapped, but the individual holding you is also insane. Great. “I’ve never seen you before in my life!”

A deep sigh fills the room, followed by the sound of lead scratching against paper. A low mumble that you can barely discern contemplates, “Perhaps the dosage was too high this time? Such an amnestic response is unusual… Could a physical stimulus be required to invigorate her hippocampus?”

The damn man is treating you like a science project!

Before you can retort, he pulls out two small vials of liquid, both no larger than your thumb. He sets them down on the table before you and gestures to each individually.

“You now have a choice. Drinking this,” he motions to the right, at the vial possessing a golden liquid flecked with sparkling, iridescent particles, “will restore your memories. You’ll remember me, and everything that led up to this point.”

Remember him? Did he drug you into forgetting, and this was the next step in his experiment? If what he claims is true, why would a husband ever do that to his wife? Your head throbs.

“Or, choose this vial,” he points to the lefthand bottle, a concoction so dark it mirrors the midnight sky, “and you will forget everything and get to walk out that door shortly after.”

Your eyes narrow at him. Surely there was some sort of catch. His language was too vague to be of any comfort at all.

“Why are you making me choose at all? This all seems like one really fucked up joke.” You tug at your bindings again, letting out a growl of frustration.

Ratio pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You’re lucky I’ve grown so fond of you that I can overlook your insipid questioning. You will choose.”

“And what happens when I do? Surely it’s not as simple as remembering you or being freed. You don’t seem like a man who would go to all the trouble. What’s in this for you other than forcing me to be your little lab rat?”

After a pregnant pause, Ratio clucks his tongue. “Fine. I suppose it doesn’t matter if I give away the answers. You’re clearly not thinking straight.” He places his notebook down and picks up a vial in each hand, holding the small things between his thumb and index fingers.

“The gold bottle here will completely restore your memories. You want to know the whole truth about us? How you ended up in this room? Why it’s not the first time we’ve had this conversation?” Your breath hitches; what did he mean not the first time. “Then drink this one. It will probably give you a leg up, since you’ll recall all those past times you tried oh so fruitlessly to escape me.”

He then raises his opposite hand as your horror builds. “Alternatively, this vial will completely wipe your memories, but only of me. You’ll recall everything about yourself, your life, hobbies, et cetera…but in doing so, you will be helpless the next time we meet. You will have no defenses, and one way or another, you will be my wife again. That much has already been proven true.”

The floor falls from underneath you. Aeons, how many times have you taken that midnight liquid? How many times have you been in this very scenario, drugged into forgetting him, only for him to court you time and time again. Clearly you must reject him each time, but he’s so lost in his obsession that he has to reset you each time you try to flee. The thought makes you immediately nauseous.

Despite your dry throat, you manage to croak out, “And if I refuse to take either?”

Ratio’s expression darkens, his chin tipped up haughtily. “Don’t test my patience, (Y/n).”

You gulp, eyes flicking back and forth between this two hands. You must choose.

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vagabond-umlaut · 1 year

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l'heure bleue

Ferocious, fearsome, infallible. The King Of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna, has never fought a war he hasn't won.

But, does that mean he'll taste success in this battle of beliefs, raging against no one but his Queen, as well?

▸ trueform!sukuna x wife!reader; sooo much of tooth-rotting! domestic fluff between sukuna & reader; sukuna is so exhausted, still so fond of his dear wife; said wife is not too soft towards her husband [she has valid reasons, dw]; talks on death; indirect talk on periods & pregnancy; 0% ANGST IN THIS– ONLY FLUFFY HUMOR; spoiler alert— would-be-dad!sukuna x would-be-mom!reader

▸ belongs to the series 'mine? yes, mine.' but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"I'm dying. Very soon."

While not the deep kiss you've always welcomed him with, into your chambers, every night of your married life— Sukuna reckons, he will take this many many times over the tense hush you've been offering him these days.

Shrugging his heavy cloak off his shoulders, the King of Curses walks over to where you're on the bed and frowns, fingers moving to thread through your unkempt hair, then run down the side of your face. Your eyes flutter close for a beat– undoubtedly, from the gentle caress, he surmises– before they grow wide open, blinking with tears of fear.

Rubbing the pad of his thumb over your wobbling lower lip, your lover sighs, knowing full well where this conversation might be going– still, as always, he decides to humor your concerns with an ask of his own.

"Did my Queen visit the royal physician, along with Uraume today?"

"No," you shake your head meekly, "I did not visit the physician. I was resting in our room the entire day."

"If you weren't feeling well, you could have asked her to visit you here, right?" your husband queries, sitting down beside you and pulling you into his lap. Snuggling into him with a soft hum, you send a miserable look his way— eliciting something eerily similar to the emotions, your husband knows, no curse like him should ever be able to feel.

Yet here he is, feeling every one of those, with his wife in his grasp.

You shake your head a second time; however, with greater force than before. "No. I knew I would be dying soon but I did not want to hear it from her. I wanted you to tell me that awful news, my king. I love you, I wanted you to say it. To confirm it."

You love him, so he must confirm your imminent death!?!?— Stunned by your odd words of reasoning, Sukuna gapes at you, dumbfounded; before he shakes himself free of the shock, discerning you to be three words, or even less, away from dissolving into your pathetic wails.

He smooths the top of your head with a palm, whilst another palm of his squeezes your hip, hoping the action will bring you some comfort. You place a small palm over the latter, voice growing shaky when you say, "Won't you confirm the terrible news, my lord?"

"No," Sukuna's quick to deny you in an instant, "Because I firmly don't believe you're anywhere close to dying. You're as healthy as a horse— or whatever idiotic creature, you humans use in your idiotic idioms."

A facsimile of a smile threatens to erupt onto your lips— it is vanished before the next second— with you crumbling into a mess of tears and snot, face pressed into his chest, whilst your fingers dig into his back.

Sukuna stifles a weary sigh, before wrapping his arms gingerly round your midsection, taking extra care not to jostle you or anything. "You aren't dying anytime soon, my Queen," he struggles to coo, but ends up grumbling, "I won't let you ever leave my side– you stupid woman. You're stuck with me forever– don't I always tell you that, my Queen?"

"You do, Sukuna," you mumble, with a weak nod of your head, "But I do feel so close to dying every moment of the day— so weak and so dizzy and so nauseous– even you've become so careful with me, my king!" you exclaim, red-rimmed swollen eyes glaring accusingly into every ruby eye of his.

Filling him with an addicting thrilling delight he has never felt before.

"You've always been so rough with me— Now, when you're being so gentle with me, out of nowhere, tell me: must the implication of you thinking me to be fragile, along with those awful symptoms– not be worrisome? Must I not think, you consider me to be near my death– hence, this newfound wariness? Hence, you, and even Uraume, who has always been so free to speak their mind before me– the both of you walking on stupid fucking eggshells around me– tell me, 'Kuna!"

A silence punctuates your outburst, filled only by the sounds of your noisy breathing– the latter replacing the sounds of your crying.— An odd yet not unpleasant, emotion taking over the shape of his mouth and curving it upwards, Sukuna drags a finger down your backbone, relishing in the way you shiver, then relax with a sigh under his touch.

Letting your temper to ebb away for another good minute, your lover inquires, keeping his tone void of anything except curiosity, "When is the last time you used your pain-relieving bath salts, pet?"

Your eyes blinking slowly, Sukuna watches them travel to the cabinet where you keep them stored in stacks, before returning to him, quite puzzled. And fatigued.

Adorably small yawns escaping, you murmur.

"I only use them when it's that time of month, which was..." Your eyes flutter open and close, painfully slowly, yet again— before they widen, becoming not unlike the full moon in the sky tonight.

You gasp, shaky fingers poking your belly before reaching a rest on it.

Covering them with his much larger ones, your lover hums, "Happy?"

"Not at all," you shake your head, reaching your other hand to trail the many tattoos on your husband's face, before stopping at the apple of his cheek.

Sukuna swears time ceases to exist in the momentary pause you take— restored only by the blinding beam you offer next, followed by your sweet voice uttering those words, he knows he'll remember for all the millennia he will live.

"I'm very, very happy— you dummy prehistoric curse."

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months

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the pained peace treaty

fused with the foe, chapter one

a/n: oh wow, i have no idea how to introduce this beast of a story except to say hi, hello, welcome! i really hope you enjoy this story, as well as the rest of the trilogy, idk if i've ever gone as in depth and all out with any story as i have with these.

summary: “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, abusive father (like super bad. he is a garbage person), wedding, blood, injury

word count: 4813

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“Your majesty, I must warn you, if, gods forbid, our people come to discover the great lengths you’ve been willing to go in this disagreement over the past two decades, they might start an uprising. And if you keep going, then it’ll turn into a full-blown war and you know our kingdom wouldn’t be able to survive that, not with them. Our city’s walls may be high, high enough to keep out any beasts that may wander this far south, but it wouldn’t keep them out. You know better than most how people from Eflorr are. If you don’t wanna lose your crown, one way or another, then I’d strongly advise that we come up with some peace treaty.”

“I know, I know…” King Ivan leaned back in his gilded throne with a huff, the quality of his voice was as thin as his towering frame, “a trade I think should suffice.”

A different advisor then timidly pipped up, “but our mines ran cold ages ago, what could we possibly offer that would be satisfactory?”

Not lifting his cold gaze, the king stared at a fixed spot on the marble floor as he said, “I know one thing the king lacks that we may be able to provide for him… a wife.”

“A wife–,” both of the men’s eyes grew wide, “but do you mean–, your majesty, she is your only daughter, are you certain this is the fate you want her to have? Those people are barbaric! If one of the dangers that rule the north doesn’t get to her first, one of their citizens surely will. Sire, what if history repeats itself?”

“Then let it do so. In fact, perhaps this could have been her purpose all along and I just didn’t realise it. Couldn’t see past my own rage to grasp how useful she actually could be…”

Sharing a nervous glance, one of the advisors asked, “should we send for her? See if she agrees with the plans?”

“No, I’ll tell her when the time is right. Wouldn’t want her to do anything stupid and ruin the one good thing she could ever provide,” finally lifting his stony gaze, the king commanded, “make the arrangements, I’ll see to it that she doesn’t ruin it.”

Deep within the opulent halls of the gilded palace, standing grand and safe behind Ingorn’s tall city walls, twisting up towards the clouds, up in a window in the western tower, there you sat.

Book in your lap, you leaned back against the small pillow you’d propped behind you to make the wide windowsill more comfortable. Small paper butterflies hung from strings above and some dangled so low that the childhood craft that still decorated your window trickled the crown of your head. Flipping the page, your fingertips brushed down over the illustration that appeared in the agricultural tome you’d found in one of your brothers’ rooms.

As long as you put it back before Angus returned then you’d probably be good. And if he were to somehow notice, then as long as he didn’t rat you out to your father then it would be alright. Both Angus and a few of the others that were closer to your age, Oliver and Francis respectively, were always a bit of a gamble whether or not they would do such a thing. They didn’t always have the same spirit as the eldest pair of your older brothers, Xavier and Callum.

You missed them so much your heart ached. The older they got, the longer their diplomatic missions seemed to stretch out, making the quiet palace that much more lonely in your solitude.

A knock then suddenly boomed at your door, causing you to jump edgily in your seat before you slammed the book shut and nervously stuffed it behind the firm pillow.

“Come in!” you called out, swiftly straightening out your dress that had crumbled around your legs at the comfortable seat. As the door to your room slammed open, the figure that stood in it caught you by surprise, “Father–, oh, hello,” you straightened your posture that much further at his arrival.

Skipping over any niceties, King Ivan simply stated, “you need to pack up your stuff.”

Your brows knitted into a fierce furrow, “what?”

“Not everything, of course,” he cast a cold glance around the room though didn’t take a step to enter it, “just the things you are particularly attached to.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” your head lightly shook from side to side, “where am I going?”

When his eyes finally gave you the time of day, it swiftly dropped to the floor as a heavy sigh flowed from his lips, “why do you have to be the spitting image of her…” the muttering was unfortunately just loud enough for your ears to catch. His disappointment was always just loud enough for your ears to catch. When he entered the room and you moved to get up, he swiftly said, “stay seated, Y/n,” before he planted himself next to you on the wide windowsill, “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

“To Eflorr?” your gaze grew wide, “you wish for me to marry someone there?”

“Not just someone, you are to marry their king.”

“I–… I–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your rosy dress, “but father, you can’t–, I can’t go live with the people who killed mom.”

“We don’t know if they actually murdered her. But I do know that you did,” his glare locked upon you as he let himself seethe, “if you hadn’t been born then she’d still be alive,” the fact that the only thing he blamed more for his late wife’s untimely demise then the kingdom she’d perished in was you, remained a point that the sovereign had never been shy about sharing with you for as long as you could recall, “your duty is to protect and serve this land, this crown,” your eyes naturally fluttered up to gaze at the twisted gold balanced upon his head, “if you don’t go through with this, then those savages will come pillage and ruin your home. You are, regrettably, the very last hope this kingdom has of survival. You have no choice, Y/n. This marriage is the only thing that can stop a war we would never survive,” exhaling slowly, he then dominantly nodded in a concluding fashion, “pack your stuff, you have an hour.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “an hour? But–, can’t we wait at least a few days before I leave? Can’t I get a chance to say goodbye to at least one of my brothers? None of them are home yet.”

Regret instantly washed over you as your father’s nostrils flared angrily. Seizing your arm in a bruising grip, he yanked you close as he hissed, “you listen, and you listen carefully, you little brat. You have been the bane of my existence ever since you took your first breath. You took away the love of my life. You don’t deserve a goodbye, you don’t deserve anything. Do you think I got a goodbye when your mother suddenly went into labour on that diplomatic mission? No. All I got was you. Not another son, but a living, breathing reminder of what I lost that day,” your eyes squeezed shut as your cheek tingled at the memory of his strikes, “now, be a good girl and go wet his prick, give him a few babies, do anything he’d fucking please, so that him and his barbaric army doesn’t come here and slaughter everything you know and love.”

“Your highness, are you cold?” the high-ranking warden sitting across from you in the carriage noticed the shiver that your body couldn’t seem to shake.

Tearing your eyes off of the scenery along The Emerald Path that the narrow window granted you a view of, you glanced back at the warrior. The brown hair he had practically tied off at the base of his neck blossomed into a dark beard. A bare palm clasped over an inked one in his lap as you met his gaze and said, “no, I’m–…” in truth, you were scared, so scared that you were trembling like a leaf, but you couldn’t tell the foreign king’s advisor that, too much weighted on your shoulders, you couldn’t screw this up, “no,” glancing back out of the window, you only stared a moment at the sparse cottages that slowly came into view on the rolling hills before you turned your head again and let the nauseating nerves control your words, “pardon me, Barnes, is it?”

“Yes, your highness?”

“Sir, how much further till we get there?” your quiet voice echoed within the carriage, “it’s just–, it’s been days.”

“Oh, not long at all,” he shook his head lightly, “actually,” the knight leaned forward in his seat and cast his glance outside, “if you look out the window now, right there,” a small smile tugged at his lips as his finger shot up to point, “that river, that means we’re getting close to Borün city.”

As the river then suddenly curved before the dirt road, the clomping hooves of the horses that hauled the coach resonated as they trotted over a stone bridge.

Twisting your head, you glanced out to your right and spotted farmlands curve over the rolling hills that swiftly blossomed into thickets and towering flora you’d only assume was the southern perimeter of The Noll Woods. Books about this kingdom had been banned in your homeland for as long as you could remember, but even though you were essentially going in blind, you still weren’t completely ignorant when it came to the dangers that called that sprawling forest its home, not that you were an expert in the slightest, but your brothers had from time to time told you tales of the monsters who dominated in this part. From giant and twisted insect-like creatures, to mischievous pixies, to even the rare dragon, those stories had always been your favourite. Apart from the rare occasion where Callum would share stories with you about your mother. Being the eldest, he was the only one who truly remembered her.

Instinctively, your fingers fluttered up to fiddle with the opalescent stone that hung from a chain around your neck. In the middle of the milky jewel was a small rune engraved into it. You had no idea what it meant, but your fingers had still traced the carving countless of times before as it had hung from your neck for as long as you could recall. It hadn’t been till you were a ways into your teens that you’d come to discover that it had belonged to your mother.

Casting your glance out the other side as you passed a tall watchtower, behind the wide city stables unfolded a port town so quaint that it surprised you. Over the small valley of gabled roofs towered a central tree, and beyond all of that, the sparkle of the sea caught your eye, a sight you’d never beheld before, haven not only stemmed from a landlocked metropolis, but also not haven been permitted to leave your room as much as your heart had desired.

“This is Eflorr?” you asked as the carriage began to roll up the winding path to the stone castle that loomed on the cliff, granting you a new view of how the river that you’d crossed slid through the city and spilt into the ocean.

“This is Eflorr, your highness,” the corners of his lips twitched at the sight of how wide your curious eyes were.

“It’s–… it’s–…” your stare danced over the lush ivy that climbed the solid towers, “not what I expected…”

“What did you expect?”

Tearing your gaze away from the window, you blinked, “oh, I didn’t mean–,” suddenly worried that your shock had come out sounding rude, “I just–… I don’t know a lot about this land,” in the few tales you’d heard about this place, there had been a running gag that the people of Eflorr had lived so close to the dangerous beasts that called this part of the continent their home that they too had turned into monsters, “it’s just different than I imagined.”

Ascending the jagged hill and passing through the front gate, it opened up into a wide courtyard before you felt the carriage finally roll to a stop.

The wagon creaked gently as Barnes stepped out first, though when his boots were firmly on the cobblestone, his frame twisted as he reached an outstretched hand back for you to grasp in support of your own exit. Ever so apprehensively, you slid your own palm into his as your other twisted in your long skirts before you slipped out of the carriage.

Letting go of his gasp, the soldier's low timbre washed over you as your head tilted back to take in the vast stronghold, “his majesty, unfortunately, couldn’t be here for your arrival as there was a bit of a dryad problem further up north he had to take care of,” you gaze tore away from the fort and fell upon him, “but I assure you he should be back in time for the wedding.”

“Oh, alright,” you breathed, unsure if that fact made you feel better or worse about the entire predicament.

“If you’d like, I can give you a brief tour of the castle,” he offered as he led you towards the main entrance into the castle proper, “or if you’re exhausted after the journey, then I can just show you directly up to your chambers.”

Offering him a polite smile, you nodded, “a tour would be lovely, thank you.”

He only briefly went over the buildings surrounding the courtyard you’d entered into, as they were mainly designed as barracks and various other facilities for the local wardens, though the horses that stuck their heads out of the royal stalls in the corner did catch your eye before you moved on inside.

Barnes’ voice echoed in most of the chambers he showed you in the castle’s western wing. The vast stained-glass windows that were in the ballroom for instance took your breath away as you saw how the light streamed through them and warmed up the room with glittering little rays of colour.

Behind the great halls, squeezed in between and connecting the two major parts of the fort, there you crossed through a much more quiet and lush courtyard. The pebble paths that curved around the central fountain too curled around various topiary bushes that were trimmed to perfection like living sculptures.

Though as your guide showed you the eastern wing that crested over the foaming sea below, your curiosity got the better of you.

“Hey, Barnes?”

Slowing his leisurely stride, he tilted his head slightly, “yes, your highness?”

“What are dryads?” your brows knit lightly together, “you mentioned there was a problem with them, but what are they?”

“You don’t know?” he glanced over at you, clearly trying to mask his surprise as you shook your head, “oh, well, they are forest spirits, nymphs,” he explained as you roamed deeper down a broad hallway on the second floor, passing many private chambers both to your right and your left, “it’s not uncommon for them to wander and bother the folks who live further up the coast. Have you never encountered one? They are not as uncommon in Obelón as most of the other creatures that thrive this far north.”

“No, I’ve never seen one…” you shook your head as a low sigh flowed from your lips, “never really seen anything…”

“Not much of an outdoorsy person?” he guessed in a light-hearted tone.

Forcing a smile, you replied, “you could say that…” as you hadn’t been allowed to be one even if you wanted to. Passing a set of double doors that stood wide open, the sight inside made you halt your steps, “is this the library?”

Shadowing you as your feet crossed the threshold, he nodded, “yes, it is,” then pointed back over his shoulder, “and your quarters are right down that hall.”

Numerous grand bookcases stood lined up all the way down to where a tall window allowed the sunlight in and let it stream through the rows.

“Can I–… would it be alright if I read some of them?”

“Of course, your highness.”

“Would you mind showing me which ones I’m allowed to read?” you briefly peeked back at him as a bubble of anxiety fluttered in your belly, “I don’t wanna accidentally read something that I’m not allowed to.”

Barnes then blinked back at you a moment before he uttered, “your highness, you can read each and every one of them if you’d like. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to read whatever you wish? They are yours after all, or will be after the wedding,” the corners of your lips twitched upwards as he then asked, “would you like to peruse the titles now or do you want to see your chambers?”

“Oh, uhm,” you tore your gaze away from the tomes and turned back, “I’ll look later.”

“Alright,” he nodded, extending his inked arm to show you the way. As he pushed the heavy wooden door open to the room at the very end of the hall, his voice rang out once more, “this is the peacock suite,” following him inside, he settled to a stop near the exit for you to explore the space on your own, “you can, of course, change anything you’d like for it to match your taste.”

“Thank you,” you breathed as you slowly made your way deeper into the chamber. It was gently divided with a more formal area towards the front where both tufted couches and a crackling fireplace stood, as well as a set of doors that opened up to a quaint balcony. Towards the left, under a swirling archway, twisted a broad canopy bed up towards the tall ceilings, warm with blankets and furs, and in the corner, by a breezy partition, stood a deep cobber bathtub.

Haven not noticed that he’d moved, you then heard as Barnes creaked the doors to a close, “if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right outside.”

With a loud creak, the heavy double doors opened before you and revealed the grand hall. As soft music gushed out, you nearly didn’t recognise the space from your tour the other day as it was now decorated with vibrant flowers and flowing banners that dropped down from the high ceilings above, as well as being completely packed with a swarm of people. A thin path parted the giddy crowd right down the middle towards the opposing grand door that guards opened simultaneously to yours.

A shaky breath filled your lungs as you stared at the man crossing over the threshold. The flickering candlelight caught the honeyed shine of the locks that came down to tickle the nape of his neck. A bit darker, his short beard was full and warmed up the bottom half of his gruff features. He sure looked like a man who could slay a kraken with his bare fists, as the soft fur cloak that draped over his shoulders did not conceal his bulky physic one bit. The neckline of his indigo tunic stretched low enough for you to see the concave of his fuzzy chest and the impressive battle scars that broke up the rippling flesh.

You’d seen the portrait of the king that hung in the hallway that stretched up towards the throne room, but to see him before your very eyes, in flesh and blood and not precise paint, was something else entirely.

The long and embroidered train of the blue silk kirtle you wore dragged across the store floor behind you as both you and the monarch slowly stepped into the chamber to join in the very middle.

The enchanting music stopped as you reached one another and the parted paths to either exit slowly closed as the crowd gathered and enclosed around the sacred vow that was about to ensue.

Parting the sea of people like a divine force, an elderly woman, with a braided grey mane so long that it hit the floor, stepped up beside the both of you.

“People of Eflorr,” the crone’s calm voice boomed, “today marks a day of unity, a day of peace, and most of all a day of love. Like a seed planted in the soil, tonight we will all witness this relationship blossom and go on the journey of growing into a magnificent tree, with roots strong enough to endure any storm, to propagate new seedlings that will watch over and shade our kingdom when yours have fallen.”

Looking to the king, she handed him a small dagger from her belt and spoke, “blade across skin,” and he reached out for your right hand, “strike out your seedling’s love line,” your breath hitched as you felt him slice the top of your palm. Crimson blood trickled down onto his own hand as yours rested atop it, “and claim it as your own,” he flipped the blade around and handed it to you, before presenting you his own palm, open in yours. He didn’t even blink as you hesitantly pierced the calloused skin and traced the line already adoring his broad palm, “weave your lines together, so they become the same,” he then moved to clasp your hands together, his wide grip engulfed yours completely. Your teeth sank into just the faintest bit of your bottom lip at the fresh sting of your wound as it bled into his, “and may this scar serve you as a reminder, of the vow you made on this momentous day.”

And as the last of the matron's words flowed from her lips so did the roar of celebration that erupted throughout the crowd as the festivities of the night bloomed at an instant.

The feast had been nothing short of immaculate. Countless of dishes had been spread out on the crowded banquet tables ranging from the savoury braised legumes to the sweet and shiny pies. It was an impossible task to try and taste every one of them, but an excuse you still used to stay glued to your seat and not get up and mingle with the boisterous gathering of strangers.

As a stark contrast, you thought you only noticed the king take two bites before he rose to greet some latecomers who had arrived. Laughing and chatting with the sea of people, he hadn’t offered you a single word, barely even a brief glance the whole night. Though your gaze still followed him from your seat up at the high table as he moved through the crowd like they were all his dearest friends.

When the moon had floated up to be high in the sky, clearly visible on the other side of the stained glass, your head had dropped down into a propped-up palm as a deep yawn forced its way out of your frame.

“Are you tired, your majesty?” a deep timbre suddenly found your ears, a specific tone that caused your spine to straighten out at once.

Whipping your head to your right, your weary eyes grew wide as you saw the king again at his seat, “no, I’m alright,” you hastily coughed out, “I’m so sorry for behaving like that in your presence. This party is exquisite.”

“It’s alright, you can yawn,” you suddenly felt the need to look away now that his ocean stare was finally fixed upon you, “it’s late, I was about to retire for the night as well, so I can only imagine how you must feel. If you’d like, I could escort you back to your chambers. I’m not sure how familiar you’ve become with the castle since you’ve arrived, but even I can still get lost when the corridors are this dark and I’ve indulged in perhaps one too many goblets of wine.”

A flutter of nauseating nerves rushed within your belly, but even so, you still pushed through and forced a smile, “if that’s what the king desires, then sure, you can escort me.”

It was your wedding night. You knew what was about to happen.

Or, actually, you didn’t quite know what the marital act entailed, but you were sure a man such as Steve had enough of an understanding to take charge. All you knew was what little you’d been told. To strip down naked, not whine or scream, and do as he tells you.

The soaring butterflies within you only grew more ferocious as you followed his long stride throughout the castle. Out of the ballroom and through a cold stone hallway, when you crossed the bridge that linked the two wings over a part of the cliff that descended dramatically, you nearly doubled over the parapet to empty your stomach over the town of Borün that blossomed below.

But with a shaky intake of breath, your fist closed around the silk of your skirt as you settled yourself and forced your feet to keep moving. Even as you passed the threshold into the eastern part of the castle, you still shadowed the monarch up the many steps until his broad palm held the door to your chambers open for you to enter.

The fire had been lit while you were gone, and the room was encased in the warm glow.

“Did, uh…” you heard the door close behind you as the king attempted a bit of small talk, “did you have a nice time tonight?”

“I did, your majesty,” you kept your answer brief out of fear that he’d hear the tremble to your tone.

Slowly turning his back to you, his gaze washed over the room, “are you pleased with your bed chambers?” he settled to face the balcony, the door slightly ajar to let the night breeze seep through and rustle the sheer curtains, “because if you don’t like it, if you’d rather have a view of the town then the sea, then that’s an easy problem to fix.”

“I think the view is just fine from here, but thank you,” you answered politely as you gathered up the last bit of your courage and reached back to undo the long row of buttons that went down the spine of the light blue dress.

When the silky garment dropped to the floor, the quiet rustle was enough to draw the king’s attention.

First offering you just a quick glance over his shoulder, he then swiftly whirled around completely, “what are you doing?”

Weaving your fingers in the thin material of your chemise, you blinked back at his stunned features, “I’m sorry, am I doing it wrong?” sure that he could already see everything through the sheer, white fabric.

His feet didn’t move as he asked, “what are trying to do?” before he averted his gaze to the stone floor.

“Well,” you uttered quietly, “it’s our wedding night.”

“Oh…” was all he breathed.

“To be transparent, I’m actually not quite sure what’s to happen, but I do know it’s something,” reaching up, you took the gold and twisted circlet, that crowned your head, off and carefully sat it down on the side table to your left, “I don’t know the details, I just know that I should strip down. Do you know what we’re supposed to do?”

“Fuck,” he cursed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, “yes I do, but, your majesty, please, keep your clothes on,” his gaze flickered back to you as you slowly began to hike up the last layer.

“Why?” your fingers froze, “isn’t it a tradition here for us to–”

“Well, yes, but–…” he let out a strained sigh before slowly stating, “I’m gonna go.”

A chill crawled up your skin, “…oh, I see…” you uttered quietly as he crossed the room, “did I do something wrong?”

Halting in the doorway as he ripped it open, “no, you–…” but the rest of his words crumbled as his gaze settled upon you one last time, instead letting a low sigh flow from his lungs, “sleep well,” and added nearly subconsciously just before the door slammed shut, “goodnight, dove.”

Even though a wave of relief washed over you, a sting of hurt also followed suit as the king left.

Had you done something wrong, or did he just find you that repellent, that hideous, that he refused to perform his marital duties?

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arminsumi · 1 year

Text

🔞 playtime w enemy!gojo

g. satoru — さとる

NOTE: i think abt this idea all the time n i just thought id gift u all a piece of mean nasty enemy gojo lusting for u

WARNINGS — ignore errors pls, smut, he's mean he's a jerk but he kinda feels for u, blood mentions, fighting, m*sturbation, he jerkin it to a pic he snapped of ur defeated face 🫠 sexual tension, impact play (slapping n spanking), dirty talk, namecalling (sl*t, wh*re, b*tch, freak) and nicknames (bunny, sweetheart, baby), dirty talk, unprotected sex, taboo sex (fucking ur enemy) creampie, it's nasty im ngl, god kink thing??? he rlly cums n goes 🧍‍♀️, hairpulling

just... just enemy!gojo...

enemy!gojo kissing you like he's trying to kill you. you can feel this murderous rage on his lips after you fuck up his heroic plans.

and enemy!gojo fighting you like he's trying to get in your pants 🥴 he hates you so much, but let's be real he's in fucking denial and needs you so bad. after fights, he's cooped up in his bedroom jerking off to the memory of all those positions he put you in. ("ooh, well aren't you flexible?" he teases when he literally puts you into a full-nelson. "hey, if this whole villain business fails for you then you can be my personal pornstar.")

his whole body feels like it's on fire when you're throwing fists with him. he shakes not from exhaustion or pain but just pure sexual desire. he gets so upclose and personal with you, you're sure it's on purpose. when you're limp and defeated, he takes a victory picture :( grabs your jaw and says "smile for the camera! aw, pretty lil' loser. you're so photogenic!" and you know when he gets home, he's gonna jerk off to that.

he can barely take your martial arts seriously, because you're so fucking tiny and weak in comparison to him. enemy!gojo likes to remind you of that, when he has you on your knees with your nose dribbling blood.

"aw, sweetheart, you're so fucking weak it's kinda turning me on."

he's got a fistfull of your hair, forcing your head to tilt back so violently yet when you look up at him, you can't help but feel this raw sexual tension and primal need to kiss him and worship him.

"f—fuck you, gojo — y-you're a freak. you think you're god... but you're a monstrous freak."

he's looking at you. and you're not sure if that's a murderous look or a pure lustful look — is he gonna kill you or fuck you? in his mind, though, the idea of killing you long faded away; you're his favorite enemy. what would he do without you? fighting with you is just the best, he gets to joke and tease and flirt and pester you and see you enjoying it wholeheartedly.

"bunny, look how cute you are, bleeding for me."

when you try spit your blood at him to retaliate, he's considering pulling his zipper down and stuffing your stupid mouth full of his cock. now that would put him on a power trip like nothing else.

then imagine the day this needy, desperate man actually snaps. and you snap. and the both of you fuck like bunnies. panting and feral. he couldn't say no when you started begging on your bruised knees for him to just fuck you already, just split you open on his cock.

his thrusts are primal. he's mocking you, voice so venemously attractive.

"wh—what would your friends think now, huh? think they'd still trust you knowing how willingly you spread your fuckin' legs for me? you damn slut. 'seen the way you look at me, gets me hot every time. you don't have any fucking idea what you do to me, do you? ha—ahhh that's so good... that's so fucking good..." his voice is usually so composed even when fighting, but when he's balls deep fucking up your guts so passionately then his voice becomes strained.

and he loves hearing your cute dirty talk, but you've got such a small voice he thinks it's cutely pathetic.

"f-fuck, g-g—gooojo ~ ! fuck me like you hate me."

he chuckles, "oh, baby. i don't have to fake it. i hate you so — fucking — much — ahhh — damn bitch, making my life so hard the least y-you could do is let me have this pussy once a week."

"a-anything for you."

his heart flutters. why? you're his enemy he reminds himself and makes his thrusts meaner and harder until you can't form a coherent thought. he relishes in your screaming moans, and there's no end to the teasing. as soon as he notices something he comments on it.

"ooh, look at that little pussy cream for me. who's it creaming for? who? that's fucking right, me. yeah stay like that and take my cock."

"o—h my god, nnn ~ !" you squeal, feeling almost too good with your threatening orgasm.

"ah-ah, there's no god but me, baby. i'm the one making this pussy freak out. ooh... think you're right, i do have a god complex. why don't you indulge in it? yeah? c'mon, baby i'm your god."

"y—you're m-my g–god, satoruuuh ~ ! ow!"

he plants a hard slap to your face. you're no stranger to his mean slaps, in fact you've joked to yourself about being his favorite bitch to slap. but that one in particular hurt, and you loved it.

"don't say my fucking name like we're friends, you freak. f—fuck... you like that, don't you? yeah? little freaky bitch likes getting slapped? mmm that's cute. kinky litttle fucking whore, let's see how hard this pathetic pussy can cum."

he pumps his cock into you at such a mean angle that you completely lose yourself, babbling obscenities and trembling in his strong hold. you couldn't free yourself from his grip even if you wanted to; he's the strongest, after all.

you get a good idea of how strong he is when you fight and sneak off to fuck.

the way he presses down on your back, the way he bullies his cockhead so deep that it feels like he's in your tummy, the way he pulls both your arms back with a rough tug like you're a ragdoll — just his fleshlight that he can move on his cock himself however he likes because he's so much bigger than you.

"gonna cum, my little slut gonna take it? yeah? good. that's what i like to fucking hear — oh fuck — ahhhah cumming — hah fuck that's good — that's — mmm — that's my fuckin' girl."

he plants rough spanks to your ass, groaning so deeply and holding you so close against his body that you feel like you're one with him.

"ooh, fuck..." he pulls out hastily, zipping himself up. forehead and abs beading with sweat. "thanks, love playtime with you. now get the fuck out of my sight." he sounds so sweet and venomous that you can't tell if he's joking, but then you remember a cold hard fact;

gojo satoru is your enemy.

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dewdropdinosaur · 6 months

Text

Fixer Upper

ALASTOR x (F)READER Summary: Someone dared to break Alastor's precious radio and his wrath is inconsolable. But turns out you may have some small tricks up your sleeve. Warnings: NONE For the dearest @anon-of-the-void. My darling, it is a pleasure as always to write these for you.

In the bustling chaos of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the fiery chaos of Hell, an unlikely friendship blossomed. Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, found solace in the presence of Y/N, an inventive soul from the Victorian Era who had found herself amidst the peculiar denizens of the underworld.

Y/N was a tinkerer, always tinkering away in her workshop, concocting gadgets and gizmos that would make even the most adept engineers marvel. Alastor, with his vintage charm and macabre wit, found her creations fascinating, and the two formed an unusual bond over their shared love for innovation.

One fateful day, disaster struck when Alastor's beloved old-time radio, his prized possession from his living days, broke down. The demon was devastated, his usual jovial demeanor clouded by a rare display of anger. The residents of the hotel trembled in fear, knowing the havoc that could be unleashed if the Radio Demon's rage remained unchecked.

Alastor's crimson eyes blazed with fury as he prowled the halls of the Hazbin Hotel, his usual jovial smile replaced by a menacing snarl. The residents cowered in fear, whispering among themselves as they caught glimpses of the Radio Demon's wrathful form.

"You there!" Alastor's voice boomed, sending shivers down the spines of those unfortunate enough to cross his path. "Do you have any idea of the inconvenience of my beloved radio breaking? The nerve, the audacity!"

Niffty, the hyperactive cleaner demon, spoke with a frantic passion as she viewed the mangled radio."Alastor! I'll do it! Let me clean it please!"

Alastor's laughter rang out like a chilling melody, sending a chill through the air. "Oh, my dear Nifty, no thank you. This requires some…interrogation but feel free to clean up the aftermath."

Angel Dust, lounging lazily on a nearby couch, scoffed, "Oh, lighten up, Al, it's just a stupid radio. Besides, it's not like anyone listens to your old-timey tunes anyway."

The room fell silent as Alastor's gaze bore into Angel Dust, his smile twisting into a sinister grin. "Is that so, my dear Angel? Perhaps I should demonstrate the consequences of underestimating the power of music."

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor summoned a spectral microphone, its ethereal glow casting eerie shadows across the room. "Now, let's see who's laughing when I unleash the full force of my wrath upon this wretched offender!"

The residents of the Hazbin Hotel trembled as Alastor's menacing laughter echoed through the halls, knowing all too well that when the Radio Demon was in a foul mood, no one was safe from his terrifying fury.

As fear spread throughout the hotel, Y/N knew she had to act swiftly to quell the storm brewing within Alastor's heart. Ignoring the warnings of her peers, she clandestinely snatched the broken radio and retreated to her workshop, determined to restore it to its former glory.Under the cover of night, she stealthily crept into Alastor's room, her pockets filled with tools and determination. With deft hands, she dismantled the broken radio, each cog and wire familiar to her skilled touch.

Hour after hour, Y/N toiled away, her nimble fingers dancing across the delicate machinery. With each adjustment and tweak, the radio gradually came back to life, its familiar crackle filling the air once more. But as the night wore on, fatigue gnawed at Y/N's bones, her eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion. But she pressed on, fueled by determination and a desire to see her friend smile once more.

Finally, with a soft click, the radio sprang to life, emitting a crackling sound before filling the room with the familiar strains of vintage jazz. Y/N let out a sigh of relief, a triumphant smile gracing her lips as she admired her handiwork.

But as she stood there basking in her success, fatigue finally caught up with her. With a yawn, she sank into a nearby chair, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep claimed her.

Unbeknownst to her, Alastor had been silently watching from the shadows, his expression unreadable as he observed Y/N's tireless efforts to fix his broken radio. When he saw her succumb to exhaustion, a pang of concern tugged at his heart, softening the edges of his usually stoic demeanor.

Quietly, he approached her slumbering form, his footsteps barely audible against the creaking floorboards. Gently, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch light as a feather.

"My dear Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "Such devotion, such selflessness. You truly are a marvel."

A warmth blossomed in Alastor's chest as he watched her sleep, a feeling he couldn't quite put into words. For the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to tenderness stirring within him—a feeling he realized with a start was nothing short of admiration.

With a soft sigh, Alastor leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead before picking up her form and striding over to his bed; tucking her in with the utmost care. As he stood there in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the quiet hum of the fixed radio and the soft breathing of his friend, he knew at that moment that he was irrevocably touched by her kindness.

And as the first light of dawn painted the sky, Alastor silently vowed to cherish and protect Y/N, for she had not only fixed his broken radio but had also managed to mend something far more precious—his wounded heart.

The next morning dawned upon the Hazbin Hotel, the air tinged with a sense of relief as the residents basked in the knowledge that Alastor's beloved radio had been fixed. Alastor strode into the lobby with a confident swagger, his usual grin plastered on his face. With a flick of his wrist, he turned on the radio, the familiar crackle of static filling the air before giving way to the melodic strains of love songs from a bygone era.

The residents exchanged puzzled glances, their confusion evident as they listened to the unexpected playlist. Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, looks like someone's feeling a bit sentimental today."

Alastor's grin widened, though there was a hint of something softer lurking beneath the surface. "Ah, my dear Angel, music has a way of stirring the soul, don't you think?"

As the love songs continued to play, the other residents couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth wash over them. Even the gruffest demons found themselves tapping their claws to the beat, caught up in the unexpected romance of it all.

But as Alastor's gaze lingered on Y/N, who stood among the crowd with a shy smile, a wave of realization washed over him. It wasn't just any love songs he was playing—it was a silent declaration of his growing affection for the inventive soul who had captured his heart.

And as the music filled the room with its sweet melody, Alastor couldn't help but feel a surge of hope coursing through him. Perhaps, in the midst of Hell's chaos, there was still room for love to blossom—a love that transcended time and defied all odds.

With a soft chuckle, Alastor stole a glance at Y/N, his heart swelling with newfound courage. For in that moment, amidst the gentle strains of love songs and the soft glow of morning light, he knew that he was falling—falling head over heels for the one who had fixed not only his broken radio but also the shattered pieces of his soul.

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likedovesinthewindd · 8 months

Note

pookie!!! saw u are taking saltburn requests!!!!

thoughts on farleigh + reader with the same amount of snark as him?? like initially not being able to STOMACH each other & biting each other’s heads over (both ignoring felix’s groaned requests to “keep the peace”) and then being like…. wait why r u….kinda……

just that back and forth banter would be so good with him + ur WRITING!!! big smooches mwah

ugghh your mind!! love this and love you, sending smooches back ×100 !!! (fem!reader, wc: ±1700)

"I don't understand what's wrong?" you asked, briefly looking over your essay again before sparing your tutor a confused glance, waiting for his input instead. "There's nothing wrong with it," Farleigh's voice only deepened your frown, "It's just a little... loose."

"Loose?"

"Yeah, loose. You don't have a really strong argument," he continued, head resting in his palm as he peered at you from where he sat on the couch. "I'm sorry, but I don't agree with you. My argument is quite coherent right throughout," you said. "Maybe, but is it convincing?" he said, small smile on his lips that made your blood boil.

"Okay," you sighed softly, "How about your essay, Farleigh?" you asked, internally reveling at the way his cocky smile faltered. "I'm working on it," he huffed after a short pause. "Well until then, keep your comments to yourself."

"I was just trying to help," he retorted.

"Oh, screw you."

"Alright, I think we can end tonight's session early. Give you some time to finish up," your lecturer interrupts. "And give you, mister Start, time to actually begin?" he gives Farleigh a pointed look.

You hastily packed your things away before wordlessly making your way out. Your poor tutor must've been used to the two of yours constant arguing by now, seeing as that was how many of your sessions ended. You never saw eye to eye and the banter was stupid most of the time, but Farleigh had a way of getting under your skin like no one else could.

You were beginning to think he had some sort of personal vendetta against you, even though you really couldn't think of ways that you've wronged him in the past that deserved that sort of behavior. He loved embarrassing you, and as many times as you've tried to be the better person, you just couldn't help from slipping your own little comments, satisfaction only really gained when you managed to wipe the smug smile from his face.

Farleigh had completely spoiled your mood, and you figured the best way to forget about your day would be to go out for a few drinks. You definitely felt like a loser going to the pub alone but you wouldn't have been great company anyway. You however, very quickly regretted your decision when you saw the very source of your foul mood sitting by one of the tables causing a commotion as he often did. Felix saw him before he did, excitedly calling out to you and asking you to join them.

Farleigh wasn't as excited as the rest of the table at your presence, but you refused to let him ruin your night.

"Funny seeing you outside." Farleigh said, ashing his cigarette in the ashtay in the middle of the full table. "Why would it be funny?" you asked. He pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows. "You're just such a homebody, hardly see you anywhere," he said. "But it's probably for the best, right?" he added, and you already sensed a verbal lashings following. "You'll need all the extra study time if you're gonna keep up."

"Farleigh," Felix silently scolded, but by now your heart was already beating in your ears, irritation setting deep inside your chest and making you feel hot with rage.

You bit the inside of your cheek. "You always seem to forget that you got into Oxford on favors," you said, watching the way the corner of his mouth twitched, facade still holding strong. "I'm not the one partying my life away. If anyone needs extra study time, it's you." In retrospect, it probably was a low blow, but the ethical line was hardly visible when it came to Farleigh.

The silence at the table was all consuming, and Felix, like the godsend he was, decided to speak up and end the wordless staring competition between the two of you. "Okay, uhm, shots. We need shots," he said, everyone quickly agreeing with him. "C'mon Farleigh, come help me," he said, practically dragging the boy along with him.

From there it only got worse the more time the two of you spent together, which was quite frequently because you ran in the same circles. You were friends by chance, only really connected through Felix, who you've known for years. Your mothers were friends, and the two of you quickly became close through her visits to their sprawling estate, often dragging you along. You've met Farleigh through Felix, and though it was evident the two of you didn't get along, Felix was still determined to try and make it work.

₊˚⊹

You were beyond relieved to be able to spend the summer away from uni and get a chance to breathe again without any academic stress. You had planned to visit your mother back home until Felix had asked you to come to Saltburn to spend the summer with them instead.

"C'mon," he tried, "Venetia will be so happy to see you again. And mum." You bit the inside of your cheek, contemplating his offer carefully. It wasn't an extremely difficult decision; the days at Saltburn served as some of the best memories you've ever made.

You certainly didn't regret accepting his offer either. The last few weeks have been amazing at the grand estate, exciting and overwhelming in the best way. It would've, however, been much better if Farleigh wasn't looming over you like a dark cloud. You genuinely tried to keep the peace, but he knew exactly how to aggravate you. You could see it was beginning to irritate everyone around you, especially Felix.

"Will this work for tonight?" you asked, smoothing your hand over the soft material of the dress. It was so easy to run out of appropriate attire when you had to give your best every night at Saltburn. Tonight was special, and although you weren't specially dressing up for the Henry's, you still didn't want to embarrass Elsbeth by being underdressed.

Venetia was lounging in the bed while you paced around the room. "You've already worn that dress," she said, making you huff. "I know," you whispered. "We can get something from my closet," she said as she stood up from the bed and made her way to you. "Or we can ask mum. Don't worry," she added with a smile.

₊˚⊹

The dinner was kind of dull, the Henry to your left not nearly as entertaining as the one to Venetia's left judging by the quick glances she spared you every time one of his jokes fell flat. Every now and then, your attention would sneak over to Farleigh; a pensive look thredded between his furrowed brows when his eyes caught yours.

The highlight of your night was definitely after dinner, when sir Catton had suggested karaoke. You were quite amused by Henry's rendition as the lot of you watched as the man made a fool of himself. Farleigh took a seat next to you on the couch, sparing you a smile.

"You clean up nicely," he smiled, sparing a look down at your dress, the sparkly material reflecting the warm light from the fire. His hand ghosted over the necklace around your neck, fingers tracing over the small pendant. You prayed that he didn't notice the way your breath caught in your throat at the little bit of contact.

"Thanks," you answered, smoothing a hand over the lapel of his suit jacket. "You don't look too bad yourself." He only scoffed, eyes now focused on your hand as it retracted from his chest. You didn't spare him another look, attention refocusing on Henry's recital.

The whole affair was getting boring, and before you knew it, your thoughts were back to Farleigh, a question on your mind that you've been burning to ask him. "Can I ask you a question?" you turned, asking before you lost your confidence. He raised his eyebrow in interest, urging you to continue. "Why do you hate me?" you asked. The question caught him off guard, rendering him speechless for the first time since you've known him.

"I don't," he started before scoffing, "I don't hate you." You pursed your lips, shaking your head in disagreement. "You do. At least you act like you do." He only smiled, shuffling closer on the couch, face impossibly closer to yours as he gave you a once-over.

Even though the topic was quite loaded, it was ironically the calmest conversation the two of you have had in a long time. It was reminiscent of the time the two of you were younger and still getting to know each other. Somewhere along the line, something shifted, and he started treating you like shit. You only returned the favor.

"You weren't always this mean either," you added. His eyes still examined the expanse of your face; trailing down the slope of your nose and into the dip of your cupids bow. His attention made you feel self-conscious in a way, tongue poking out to wet your lips.

You had no reason to even feel self-conscious, but Farleigh had a special talent for making you feel small in his presence. Somewhere beneath the irritation and resentment hid a feeling that made warmth settle deep in your belly everytime you saw him. It's a feeling you only gave yourself the luxury of experiencing in the dead of the night when your thoughts were all that kept you awake. The overbearing anger would subside and then that funny feeling would settle over your body and deep inside your chest in a near painful way.

You never called it by it's name, too scared that if you did it would manifest itself and become reality. But now as the two of you sat on the couch, the cheering and singing fading into background noise as a pair of deep brown eyes stared into yours, you finally had to courage to admit it to yourself.

"I don't hate you," he repeated one more time, voice slightly breathless and a sullen look on his face. "On the contrary, actually." That made you laugh almost too loudly. "So what," you scoffed, "you act like a teenage boy and pick on me because you had a crush on me?"

He shrugged, the motion causing the refined material of his suit to rub against your arm. "Maybe I just wanted your attention," he smiled, placing a brief kiss to your cheek before briskly getting up from the couch to cut Henry's musical number short. You uncleanched your balled fists that were bunching up the expensive material of your dress, the tension leaving your body with a sigh once Farleigh's words register.

#saltburn #farleigh start x reader #farleigh start x you #farleigh x you #farleigh x reader #farleigh start #likedovesinthewindd

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chrissdollie · 7 months

Text

matt with a short gf hcs

bends down to kiss u just bc he doesnt want u to hurt ur neck !

constant teasing (only if ur comfortable with it ofc!!)

and its stupid shit like: "huh? i cant hear you from all the way up here" and then bends down, putting his ear to ur lips cough

picks u up ARGHHH

^ twirls u around too and makes u feel like a princess c:

scooches up the passenger seat in his car hehe

head pats and "good puppy"/"whos a good girll?" as a joke LMAO

if ur trying to grab something from a cabinet above u and matt walks in, he'll silently stare at ur ass jiggling as u bounce up and down, not making a sound. anyway eventually he comes to ur rescue, looming over from behind and handing you what u were looking for. "that'll be one smooch please." he folds his arms and bends down, tapping his cheek. you grin and kiss his cheek.

leans on u hehehe. depending on how short u are, he'd lay his entire arm on your head and put some of his weight onto it, pretending to fall asleep. like he'd do this if u were waiting in line for smth lmao

ur contact names. i think all of the triplets would have a very generic contact list, just opting to have everyone by their name/nickname and maybe like a silly pic. but for u, matt changes it up every once in a while. he'd probably start with smth simple like "shorty" or "tiny" and then go to "shrimpy" or "bug" idk!! maybe "shortcake" if hes feeling sweet x

ur always in his lap just fyi. hes holding u like ur a tiny baby and giving u his warmth wahh

bought u a kitchen pink stool LMAO

^ also buys those dumb ass t-shirts that have short jokes on them

nsfw below

throws u around in bed LISTEN!!1!

i dont mean throw as in mean rough dom. in a way that hes tossing you from position to position just bc ur so easy to move wefufhap

u could be on top, riding like ur life depends on it and he'll just grab your hips, flip u over and oh we're in missionary now !!

he LOVES when ur pissed and wanna be in control cuz ur so tiny and seeing u full of rage is just so arousing

fucks u wearing his shirts that are way too large

plants kisses on ur head when u guys are standing up cough

sits u on the counter and ur just so cute and small and suddenly his dick his hard

#could u tell this was rushed #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓸 #matt sturniolo x short reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo

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jeonjcngkook · 2 years

Text

motor head | jjk (m)

pairing: jungkook x female reader genre(s)&au(s): motorcyclist!jungkook, situationship / friends-with-benefits, angst, smut, pwp rating: 18+ word count: 10.2k+ warning(s)&smut warning(s): they r a little toxic w each other btw ! possessive jaykay n jealous jaykay bcs he literally cant see you around other men !!!! QATAR JAYKAY W LONG CURLY HAIR ALL IN HIS EYES LIKE PRINCE CHARMING 🤤, tattoos !!!! all out !!!!!! — thats a warning on its own :)))) - i may have also given him a giant rib tattoo bcs i hate myself that much 🤭 jaykay rides a motorcycle just in case u havent already guessed 🥲😲, biggest cawk jaykay, dirty talkinnn’, size kink bigger than his muscles !! he uses his motorcycle as a giant sex toy 🤲🏻🫠, clit play while driving, rough kisses, love bites, rough oral sex (m rec), face fucking (f rec), thigh riding & dry humping, vaginal fingering (f rec), anal fingering (f rec), spitting on her face n spitting on her ass, 💦💦, 👉🏻 degradation kink & praise kink 👈🏻, vaginal penetrative sex, unprotected sex, sex on top of a motorbike, multiple orgasms, power play sksksk, jealousy sex (????? ye kinda), orgasm denial(s), creampie. summary: jungkook doesn't like seeing someone else have your attention, so he decides he’s gonna do something about it. beta(s): @jeonspub & @pjmparadise banner: @kth1 | @kth1fics

A hand fists into the back of your tank top and pulls you upright from your bent position. Looking behind you, you come eye-to-eye with Jungkook who looks like he reached his final limit with you. Seeing red, he is quick to push the man out from behind you, watching as his body struggles to keep himself standing at the force.

“Jaykay, what’s your fuckin’ problem, man?” The orange haired man you know as Jimin asks. “The little lady is just having some fun, don’t be such a spoil sport,” he jests — clearly loving the agitated reaction he is getting from Jungkook if the snarky grin on his face is anything to go by.

Jimin reaches out for you once more and drags you back towards him. He presses your back into the warmth of his chest, legs parting to accommodate you against him as one of his hands rests on your hip and the other on your thigh. You swallow when something hard presses into your ass and you fidget against it, hearing Jimin moan against your neck.

You watch on as Jungkook’s expression changes from pissed off to full blown rage within a blink of an eye.

Between you and Jungkook, things are complicated to say the absolute least. You have a past behind you as the girlfriend of a neighbouring rival gang that go against Jungkook and the rowdy crowd he hangs with. It started with sneaking around with each other behind your then boyfriends back before you took the plunge and found yourself with Jungkook indefinitely.

But things between you both aren’t as easy as it seems. Yes, you had left your boyfriend for Jungkook, but you and Jungkook had never made it official with each other.

To put it bluntly; you left your relationship with your ex for a situationship with the city’s notorious bad boy. Plainly put, you’re still single.

You laugh lightly as Jimin taunts Jungkook. You aren’t friends with any of these guys, having only met them twice before. You aren’t stupid, you can spot a hot guy when you see one and Jungkook’s so-called best friend Jimin was exactly that.

Like mentioned, you are single after all.

You tilt your head to the side to let Jimin place small kisses on your neck; both of you watching for Jungkook’s reaction. Within the snap of your fingers, Jungkook is ripping you out of the grasp of Jimin and pulling you into his arms. “She’s coming with me.”

Jungkook looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to move in the direction of his motorcycle. His heavy black boots kick the stones from under his feet as he nears his motorised vehicle, leaving space for you to hop on eventually; however, you don’t move.

“Maybe I want to stay with Jimin,” you taunt, knowing just how to push his buttons.

You watch as Jungkook rolls his eyes, pissed off and annoyed at your bothersome behaviour tonight, unsure as to what or why you’ve decided that tonight of all nights you want to wind him up.

“____, you’re testing my fucking patience. Get on the bike.”

Staying still, you keep yourself standing between the two men. You look back towards Jimin, who looks to be enjoying the scene in front of him — Jungkook tends to get what he wants when he wants, so watching you not give him that makes Jimin snicker.

The sound of Jungkook’s motorcycle comes to life as he presses into the throttle lever as far as it possibly goes, a roar of the engine tearing through the cloudy night.

You turn around to find Jungkook with his helmet over his head, leather gloves adorning his fingers as the wheels on his bike move against the gravel.

“W-wait! Jungkook, wait!”

The engine dulls down as you walk towards him. Jungkook passes you over the spare helmet he reserves for you when you ride with him as you easily slide it past your hair.You don’t need to see his face to know that he has the victory smirk on his face. Lifting your leg over the carbon fibre of the bike, you manage to slot yourself between Jungkook and the glass window at the front.

Once again, Jungkook presses into the throttle and the bike engine rumbles beneath you both as he navigates the vehicle out of the lot, leaving everyone else behind.

It’s been fifteen minutes of silence between you both. Nobody dares to say anything through the intercom. In those fifteen minutes though, you’ve managed to slide into a dangerous position as Jungkook steers you both down narrow streets. The motorbike vibrates at the base just below the seat and you can’t help but feel every single part of it.

You moan out loud into the intercom in your helmet, not trying to hide the pleasure that suddenly rakes through you. Deep vibrations from the hard metallic cylinders below the carbon fibre body rattle your body as Jungkook adjusts your position on the bike.

His palm applies enough pressure to push your body down, watching as your back straightens out as your chin lies against the frame of the motorcycle, giving Jungkook a clear view of the road in front of him. In your new position, you slide yourself back into Jungkook’s crotch, meeting the leather material of Jungkook’s pants and in turn trapping you in between his hard psyche and the body of the machine beneath you.

Jungkook is still in full control of the motorcycle. He presses the throttle and ups the motorbike into a higher gear. Feeling the wind pick up as you zigzag through the highway, watching as the streetlights illuminate the wet asphalt before they threaten to dim into full darkness.

The vibrations between your legs get stronger as Jungkook revs the engine, picking up speed and knowing exactly what reaction he is spurring out of you. You hear a small laugh from Jungkook, and it’s almost torturous, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

From behind you, you can feel his eyes watching you as your legs try to close themselves to alleviate the throbbing in your core but you come up short, having the metal of the motorcycle come in between. You grind your ass further into Jungkook; feeling his cock harden at your movements.

Without thinking, you rub yourself further into the luxury Italian leather of the seat, chasing the vibrations as your pussy overflows with your own lust. You want nothing more right now than to trace your fingers past the hem of your leggings to peel away the lace that is now fully sticking to your folds uncomfortably from your arousal.

“Give me your hand.”

Removing his hand from the handlebars, Jungkook finds your wrist and wraps your fist around the rubber handle. “Press down on the throttle,” he instructs, voice stone cold and laced in confidence. You do as you're told, letting your fingers grip the lever, pressing down until it doesn’t go any further.

Behind you, Jungkook adjusts himself, fighting against your own movements; a deep gritty growl vibrating from his chest, almost mimicking the engine of his Kawasaki Ninja H2R bike. Your eyes widen in surprise when you feel something thick and hard pressing against your ass. Your cheeks warm at the realisation, your lips parting as he purposely pulls you further into him.

Jungkook’s now free hand slithers under your arm and past your clothing to place it on your hip. Your hands begin to gather sweat as he massages the skin almost comfortingly — but you know better… especially after the environment he has just pulled you out of.

“J-Jungkook, isn’t this dangerous?” you stutter nervously as your heart rate picks up. You feel Jungkook sit up a little straighter from behind you, one arm still holding onto the brake lever.

His fingertips run along the band of your leggings teasingly before his fingers dip underneath the cotton band. You can’t help but spread your legs wider on either side of the body, an instinct that has been scorned into your mind. A silent plea for Jungkook to move his hands further down. To cup your wet pussy and slide his fingers inside. To finger fucking you on the highway under the glittering city lights just to eliminate your lustfulness.

Your breath hitches in your throat as your arousal leaks further into your dampened thong.

“Jungkook?”

Ignoring you altogether, you feel three fingers press into the material of your underwear. The motorcycle below you shakes as you struggle to concentrate on the road. Jungkook’s hand finds your clit easily and begins to rub soft and slow circles. He switches the direction of his fingers, leaving you on the edge, never knowing what next he’s going to do.

“Why are you so wet, darling? Was it me or was it Jimin that got you so dirty?” He goads through the intercom — the first thing he has said to you since leaving the parking lot.

At the accusation towards Jimin, your blood runs cold. It definitely wasn’t Jimin but Jungkook had some audacity to even ask when he’s three fingers against your clit.

“We aren’t doing this if you’re going to assume like a dick.”

Your hand finds his wrist as you grab at it, keeping him in place to continue playing with your pussy. You lick your lips as his fingers peel past your thong, sliding them up and down your slit to coat his fingers in your cum before sinking two of them inside of you, instantly knuckle deep.

Your cunt clenches around his digits as your mind goes dizzy with desire.

Jungkook pulls his fingers out of you, feeling the heat in between your legs before he inches his fingers back inside. A rhythm of steading thrusting starts, making sure to curl them up when his knuckles meet your clit.

“I don’t think we — shit — we should do this. It’s — fuck — so dangerous.”

Jungkook is still able to navigate you around the city with one hand with your help but as the pleasure and lust courses through you from his fingers, it makes you dizzy, losing your vision on the road slightly.

“Want me to stop, darling?” Jungkook purrs into the built-in microphone.

The way his fingers fuck into you is deliriously fucking good. He knows how to reduce you to nothing but a whimpering mess for him in so many ways. You don’t want him to stop. You never want him to stop.

And Jungkook knows. He always knows.

It’s like he can read your thoughts and leaves you hanging by a thread as he rips his hands away from your sodden core; pulling you away from any sort of pleasurable burst that was about to wash over your body any minute now.

The gasp that you exhale echoes through both of your bluetooth speakers is ear pinching as you try to come to terms with Jungkook denying you your opportunity to come. It leaves your eyes watering, pussy fluttering against nothing.

“What the fuck was that?” You pant, and a deep growl of dissatisfaction blends into your words spitefully.

The motorcycle slows down to a stop as it reaches its ending destination. Jungkook removes the keys to the garage from his pocket, clicking the buttons to open the entrance to his workshop.

The sounds of a heavy metal garage door thunders in your ears as you’re driven into the main area of the repair store. You watch as Jungkook’s leaden black leather boot wiggles under the motorcycle against the bottom of the bike to pull the kickstand out to allow it to stand on its own.

He is the first one to remove himself from the motorcycle, opting to run his hands through his now helmet messed hair. You follow his lead and will yourself to lift your leg over to the other side. It’s difficult to stand with the shake in your body. You’re unsure if it’s the adrenaline coursing through you or the lingering arousal you endured from the heavy vibrations.

Once you’re off the bike, you watch Jungkook off to the other side, pacing back and forth. He looks like he is having an internal battle with himself, so deep in thought that he may as well have forgotten you are there with him.

A distressed pair of leather pants hug tightly at Jungkook’s thighs, perfectly snug against the muscle underneath — all sorts of thoughts running through your mind at just how delicious his legs look in the material. It’s sinful and fucking mouth-watering.

Made from soft black leather, his jacket has a number of badges stitched securely onto the front and sleeves. With added stripes in sanguine red and olive green, the overall look of the jacket contrasts well against the black leather. To give it a more classic ‘biker look’, Jungkook has gone as far to wax the leather material to create a more vintage, edgy worn out effect.

Jungkook catches you staring at him as he unzips the top coat, revealing a sleeveless navy blue ribbed sweater-like shirt under the classic looking jacket. Throwing the leather over his shoulder, it lands in a heap behind him and you can’t help but watch as it falls heavily on the grimy concrete floor.

But what catches your eye is the arm covered fingers to shoulder in tattoos — not a dribble of skin left untouched, and you feel yourself itching to run your fingers over the words, patterns and shapes. You swallow hard as you watch as he crosses his arms over his chest. Your eyes land centre to his bicep; the colours within the intricate artworks being put to more good use as they show off every single tight muscle in his flexed arm.

With all the effort you are able to conjure, you’re able to rip your attention away from his body, but not fast enough as you look up to see Jungkook smirking.

“What are you playing at?”

Either Jungkook doesn't hear you or he’s heard you perfectly clear and he is doing everything he can to completely ignore you. And judging by the raise of his eyebrow piercing which catches in the night light like stardust and the light scoff that you hear, it’s the latter. Typical Jungkook.

This isn’t something you’re not used to. The push and pull between the both of you is scornful. Filled with aggression and fiery delight. It’s sickening yet all too consuming at the same time. It’s every reason why you find yourself unable to stay away from him, and vice versa.

Your eyes scan around the workbench in the repair store, striking gold as you find a tape measure underneath piles of tools and equipment.

“I’m talking to you,” you throw the measuring tape at his back to grab his attention. Your words are comparable to a snake spitting at its prey — filled with poison and ready to fight.

Your back is pressed against the adjacent wall, shortly followed by a pair of plush lips pressed against your own. The breath is knocked from your lungs and you’re unsure if it’s from being herded against the wall so abruptly or having Jungkook steal the air from such a bruising and breathtaking kiss. Either way, you hum in venomous delight as you open your mouth to allow his tongue to slither past your teeth and entangle with your own.

With one hand pressed against the wall next to your head and the other holding you still by the waist, you find yourself enjoying every moment of the dominance spilling from the man in front of you.

You reach your hands to his waist to roam underneath his ribbed crewneck style tank top, gripping the material in your hands and pushing it up and over his head. You take in his body. Completely bare for you — another tattoo etched into his beautiful skin. A Japanese traditional dragon. You see the tail starting at his hip as the body is drawn with pristine lines and dotwork all the way up his ribcage.

Wisdom, bravery and strength — traits both the dragon tattoo and Jungkook behold and symbolise. Although, his wisdom seems to vacate the second it comes to you.

You continue to take in the full sight of him. His torso is lean, and his chest and shoulders are broad and incredibly built. You have never seen anybody like him — and you doubt you’ll find anyone like him again. Healed scars, old abrasions, and bruises cover his chest and ribs and your fingertips gently travel upwards until they meet the tender marks.

His skin looks almost soft as the only format of light from the dim lamps and moonlight outside illuminates against his form. A hiss leaves his lips as you run your hands up and down his flesh, watching his eyes close tight.

“We could have got hurt,” you whisper, the words falling on deaf ears. Jungkook doesn’t want to think about his past battles in war — not right now.

Jungkook manages to slot his leather clad thigh in between your thighs, prying your legs to open wider for him. Your leggings only did so much to conceal your arousal, yet it didn't help that there is a dampened spot in the middle of the fabric;thankfully, he can’t feel it through his own pants, yet.

“You already hurt me, _____.”

You can barely recover from the intrusion of his thigh as you lift your head, looking at Jungkook dead in the eyes as they glare down at you, dark and filled with arousal of his own.

The garage is dark and dingy looking. The smell of oil, gasoline and sweat roaming around the room. It’s somewhat fitting to the man in front of you right now. Yet as his eyes darken and you’re only now taking in your surroundings, a shiver rakes through your body.

Jungkook presses himself further into you with his thigh, watching the way your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, a loud moan you are unable to suppress is loud and clearly heard by you both.

“W-what do you mean?” Like before, Jungkook’s gloved hand finds the waistband of your leggings once more, playfully grabbing at the elastic before taking the material back and letting it snap against your skin gently. With his free hand, he travels up your tummy, the feeling of your soft skin underneath his calloused fingertip brings him a sensation of delight. He brings it further up your body to skin over your clothed tits, squeezing over the lace as he grinds his thigh further into your cunt.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Jungkook’s eyes are stone, piercing through you entirely.

Your nipples harden at his movements, eyes rolling back into the back of your skull as you try your utmost best to keep your breathing steady and under control. It’s increasingly hard to do so when Jungkook flexes his quadriceps, giving you hard muscle to drag your aching, leaking pussy over.

“With Jimin.” His hand withdraws from your body, keeping you in place with his thigh as he straightens himself back to full height, only adding to his dominant aura. It makes you feel small underneath him.

A tear is heard throughout the small room and a chill suddenly finds its way creeping up your body. You look down in horror to find the thin material of your vest has been torn in half right down the middle. Your eyes quickly find Jungkook so you can demand why but before the chance finds itself, leather is skimming the skin of your neck until it finds you by the throat. His fingers squeeze at the sides of your neck just enough to slow down your breathing, a silent warning to not say a word.

“You went against what I told you today, didn’t you?” Jungkook is the first to cut through the silence with a rhetorical question, in his honeyed voice.

You have a habit of talking back to Jungkook, never liking not having the last say in your tiffs. You open your mouth to answer but once more Jungkook is quicker in thinking, knowing you far too well, and adds a little more pressure to the side of your neck. You can’t help but groan in near delight as the light headed feeling begins to crawl up on you ever so slowly but not before you manage to get some words out. “Did I?

Jungkook remains still. His eyes boring straight into your own as if challenging you to talk back to him once more.

Nothing. Silence.

The only sound to be heard is the heavy breathing between the both of you and all you do is let out a snort of laughter, as if this whole time it’s just a game.

“I just wanted to join in with you and the boys,” you say once more through gritted teeth. “It isn’t my fault Jimin fucking likes me, is it?”

“I don’t think Jimin ‘fucking liking you’ is the issue we have here, sweetheart. Letting him grind his cock against your ass in front of me and my boys is the problem we have.”

It didn’t matter how hard Jungkook’s hand was wrapped around your throat, the laugh that you let out was audible enough to taunt Jungkook. This was dangerous. You are in a small space filled with oils and gasoline tanks that in a single moment threatens to blow up if you keep playing with the fire inside Jungkook.

“You should have been the one to take me out on your bike then, then we wouldn’t be in this situation.” You lower yourself further onto his thigh, using your lower back to rest on the cold wall behind you. With everything in you, you use it to your advantage to keep you in your sitting position, essentially sitting on Jungkook’s thigh as you begin to press down harder, moving your hips back and forth to fuck yourself on him.

“Things may have gotten a little out of hand when he was showing me his bike,” you slide the straps of your bra off of your shoulders to pull the cups down and let your tits spill out. You feel the fingers on your throat loosen lightly, Jungkook’s eyes flickering down as he watches you grope your tits in your hands yourself this time. “He may have bent me over it a little too much and he may have pressed himself against me a little too hard when showing me the paintwork; but when was any of this my problem?”

No response comes from Jungkook. Instead, his grip on your neck falls completely in turn for slapping your hands out of the way to fist your boobs in his leather fists himself, watching as the skin peeks through the spaces of his fingers. The feeling of air returning to your body spurs you on further, gives you a newfound energy that you use to fuck yourself with. You’re so desperate to come that the pace of you riding his thigh increases, pleasure shoots up your spine and you let out a cry of arousal, your body is so wired it feels like your clit is making direct contact to his cock on every stoke.

In fact, Jungkook does nothing to stop you from chasing your high — what's strange is that he starts to encourage you to use him to get yourself off. He lifts his leg higher and further into you, flexing his thigh as tight as possible as he plants his hands on either side of your waist to help guide you, pushing and pulling you with both hands.

“Jungkook, kiss me,” you plead, voice light.

“No.”

Your eyes snap open at his denial to your request. He has never denied you a kiss before. Jungkook loves making out with you so this is brand new territory for you to be in and you’re unsure if you’re enjoying the answer. You don’t have the option to ask why before you get your answer.

“Don’t deserve it.”

Your eyes become glassy as little tears fill your eyes. Not because of Jungkook’s rejection, well, a little because of that, but because he fucking smirks as he tells you no and continues to pulls you harder into him.

Jungkook leans down towards your mouth and you follow him, leaning in to connect his mouth with yours, thinking he was just playing games with his previous refusal. But at the last possible second, he twists his face away from yours until his lips are grazing against your earlobe, grunts of pleasure and warm breathing warming your skin.

“I fucking love how wet you get for me,” Jungkook croons as he takes your earlobe in between his teeth and grazes it lightly. “I’ll kiss you when you’ve come.”

You jerk your hips erratically against his thigh faster and faster, your climax in fucking sight. “Jungkook, it would have felt so good to have you bending me down on top of the motorcycle instead,” you start, words etching a repetive image in Jungkook’s mind of you and Jimin once again. “To feel your arms around me. Your weight on top of me, your cock hard and heavy against me —, " you moan, continuing to grind against him, watching how Jungkook twitches and swells under the leather of his pants.

This time it’s Jungkook’s turn to groan, trying to angle his body in a way that his cock is beneath you, to have you aide both yourself and Jungkook at the same time, but to his dismay he can’t find it; the material not being too kind in stretching enough for him.

Your breathing becomes stuttered as a string of swear words leaves your lips as your orgasm washes over you. And as promised, Jungkook finds your jaw in his hand and brings your face up to meet his own before crashing his soft cherry red lips against your own.

He kisses you deeply with soft lips and a wet tongue that presses into the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. Your lips part obediently as you glide your tongue against his own. The taste of desperation and lustful desire on the tip of both of your tongues and you can’t help but moan softly, so saccharine sweetly for him.

In between the kiss, you feel a large hand at the back of your neck, fingers tangling into your hair as they tug at the root to pull you away from his mouth. Jungkook’s rougher nature starts to make an appearance and you can’t help but squirm in anticipation of what is to follow. The thoughts of him pinning you down just like you had asked in the midst of your pleasure moments ago swirls in your mind, causing goosebumps to rise on the back of your neck.

“If I had been anywhere near you earlier then I wouldn’t have been able to fucking stop myself from being the one to bend you over, waist down against my own bike just to fuck you hard and rough in plain sight of everyone around us.”

A puddle forms in your mouth at his words; unable to swallow as you picture the image in your mind of Jungkook doing exactly that with a crowd around you. You know he has a vouyeristic nature and a tendency to participate in exhibitionism but knowing he would go as far as too fuck you in front of a group of his friends, strangers to you, sets your body ablaze.

A fresh wave of arousal pools in your already soaked underwear as you muster up the courage to move around his thigh once more. But unluckily for you, Jungkook removes his thigh from between your legs and gives you a dry humourless laugh as he sees you trying to put the imagery in your mind.

“I can’t believe you’d fucking let me do that. Look at yourself — it’s pathetic.”

“I didn’t say I would let you do that.” Jungkook raises his tattoo arm and lands it on the wall behind him, keeping the other side free, knowing that if you wanted to leave, you would take the exit.

“You didn’t have to say anything. I can read it all over your body. Why else did you end up getting on the back of my motorcycle again tonight? Because it sure as shit wasn’t for a night cruise… not with me.”

You swallow hard as Jungkook bends down again so he’s face to face with you.

“Your mouth is watering for me. Your heart is pounding and I can fucking feel it. And now, the lower I get,” he stops to lick at the ring at the corner of his mouth and your eyes flit down to watch as he does. Watching as his tongue runs along his lower lip, wetting it as he goes before his tongue slithers back into his mouth and protrudes at the corners. “I can feel the desperation clinging to you for me to kiss you right now. Slow. Hard. Passionate. My tongue running down your neck. Taking in the smell of your arousal,” he punctuates his words by letting his palm squeeze at your tit again and sliding his hands down over your bare ribs.

Your eyes flutter shut as your hand firmly grips his wrist. Jungkook stops his movements, waiting for you to stop what’s going on between the two of you. But it never comes. Instead, you tighten your grip on his wrist and begin to slither it towards the elastic of your bottoms once again.

“Then what?” You moan, anticipating his next movement.

It’s clear to see that Jungkook is just as affected by this as you are. The deep movement in his Adams Apple suggesting he is swallowing hard to keep himself under control gives it away.

“Then I’d slid my fingers right under here,” and he does but goes no further than the lace hem of your underwear, “I’d make you come first around my fingers. Then on my tongue. Then on my fucking cock,” he whispers the last part as he presses himself into you, making you feel just how aroused is his. His cock, thick and hard against your pelvis. “Fast, hard, rough sex that you know deep down you’re craving from me right now.”

His fingers stop rubbing against your skin, forcing you to look up to find him with his eyes closed and jaw clenched together. “Too bad I’m not going to be the one to give it to you… Go ask Jimin, he seemed up for it.” The last sentence is said with spite as if the name of his best friend is nothing but searing poison dripping from his own tongue.

Stunned into silence, you roll your eyes. Of course this is still about Jimin. “Fuck you.”

Though his back is turned to you, you watch as Jungkook stops in his stride and opts for twisting his neck from side to side — cracking of his bones heard in the eerie quiet. You can’t see his expression but you know you’ve possibly overstepped the mark but right now, you can’t see anything other than blind vicious venom for the man in front of you.

“What did you say to me?”

Ignoring the warning bells that ring and rattle in your head over and over, you tell yourself you need to do this.

“You heard exactly what I said. You’re so caught up in your own messed up thoughts that you can’t see that I’m standing here right in front of you. I’ve always been right in front of you. You fuck me when you please but then you’re so quick to toss me away the second something so miniscule gets too hard for you to deal with. You pick me up just to throw me away like an old toy a child doesn’t want anymore. I’m not yours to just use and tear apart when you want. You don’t care about those around you enough to think about the repercussions of your shitty actions. So fuck you.”

You toss your head back in relief that you have finally been able to lift the dead weight off of your shoulders. If this is how you and Jungkook will end, then at least you did it with your pride intact standing up for yourself. You let out a deep breath as you try to zip up your jacket to cover your torn clothes.

With your head down in concentration, you’re unaware that Jungkook has come back and reaches for both your wrists, pinning them against the wall above your head, and he doesn’t look happy. His eyes are narrowed, glaring into you as if he can see through you, burning holes straight into the granite behind you. His jaw is flexed, shut tight, and his nose is scrunched up at the tip — not in the way you’ve come to love, but in a way that carries fear.

“Well if you aren’t mine, then who is it you belong too, huh?”

“That’s not what I mea-.”

Your sentence is cut off as his lips crash against yours hard. His teeth instantly pull on your lower lip to allow himself the satisfaction of tangling his tongue with your own. The kiss is passionate, filled with loathing and untold love for the other. Your eyes shut slowly into the kiss as you fight your wrists out of his hold in favour of wrapping them around his neck and pulling him against you forcefully.

You tug at the roots of Jungkook’s hair, breaking the kiss and watching as saliva connects your lips to his still. Your own body shivers as you take in the state of his hair dishevelled from your tugging and the motions of his chest rising and falling over and over in quick paces from being out of breath with just one kiss.

“Tell me. Who. Do. You. Belong. To?”

One more tug at his hair and you regain your fight. “You have no right to think I belong to you. Not anymore.”

“You like it when I do though, don’t try and fight what you already know to be true,” Jungkook answers, his voice low and gravelly.

Once again, Jungkook’s mouth is back on you with fiery desire. Teeth and tongue clash against each other in the fight for dominance within the kiss. You relinquish, knowing damn well that you would never win anyway, but the fight is part of the fun. He captures your lip back in between his teeth and nips hard enough that a tingling feeling reaches your lips, and you think he’s kissed you hard enough to draw blood. If that’s the case, Jungkook isn’t one bit bothered. Jungkook’s drawn blood before — the lashes and scars on his body are a testament to that.

Jungkook’s mouth detaches from yours and travels across your cheek toward your ear like he did earlier.

“You’re mine, you got that?”

“God, you’re such an asshole,” you spit, looking back at him with hooded eyes.

Jungkook sucks on your neck just below your ear, knowing exactly how to provoke you. The sweet spot on your body that only he knows. His mouth is greedy and careless as his teeth nibble hard at one spot and then another before his tongue immediately soothes the burn of your flesh. And yet all at the same time, you never want the burn to stop. You want him to keep going — to fully burst into flames and burn you with him.

But it isn’t like he was wrong. It didn’t matter how often you fought it never took away from the fact that you were absolutely, irrevocably his. A truth you cling to, never wanting that to change. And it may be toxic to fight and fix it with a fuck but right now you can’t help but need him right fucking now.

Jungkook just laughs, working one of his hands up to the nape of your neck to grab your hair and pull hard at the roots. You don’t fight back the moan that escapes your lips and instead you welcome the action with a salacious grin, feeling him exhale against your warm flesh.

You can tell he is needy as he furthers himself down to your chest, arms pulling the jacket off of your shoulders, ripped vest along with it. He continues to suck in mouthfuls of your skin, watching as it darkens and then placing more tiny little kisses around the sensitive area.

“I honestly hate you sometimes, Jungkook.”

Every moan, every whimper you release is for him. Moving your head side to side, you give Jungkook an all-access pass to every part of you. You shiver at the thought that the next time you’re with his friends will be when you’re going to be marked up all pretty, teeth marks and love bites littering your neck, chest and skin. Visible proof that Jungkook has claimed you as his.

“Want you on your knees, need to see how badly you wanna be mine.”

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you obey his words as you lower yourself to your knees right before him. With your head at the same height as his hips, you can see the hard length straining against his right thigh. Jungkook doesn’t waste time undoing the two buttons above his bulge before unzipping his leather pants — the sound of it ringing loudly in your ears and your mouth drools at the thought of what is to come next.

Jungkook pulls the tight leather down to his mid thigh, just enough for you to see his cockhead poking out the seam of his Tom Ford boxers. It’s a bright pretty peach shade, smeared in white slick from the precum that has been gathering since the start of the night.

“You hate me all of a sudden, yeah?” Jungkook asks mockingly, a growl vibrating from his chest.

It doesn’t even matter how often you see his length hard and ready, it always leaves you speechless, wanting nothing more than for him to take the words out of your mouth and replace it with his cock.

Noticing that your eyes are trained on his dick, Jungkook’s hand immediately plunges into the band of his boxers and fishes his cock out for you to admire fully. The pride is written all over his face as your mouth drops open slowly and you lick the corners of your mouth, then the skin of your lower lip. Jungkook bends down at his waist and tilts your head to the side to face you away from him before he spits on your cheek, a loud whimper leaving your lips. Jungkook watches as your head turns back towards him, eyes filled with lust as you feel it drip down your face.

“You want to hate me that much but look at you covered in me,” he degrades as he pulls you towards his cock and smears his spit and precum around the side of your cheek. “You can’t hate me that much sweetheart.”

You hear him sucking air through his teeth as your hand reaches up to run your fingertips over the protruding veins that run from the flushed, weeping mushroom head down to the base before handling his balls in your palms and giving one tight squeeze. You smile to yourself knowing just how affected he is. Affected by your touch, how it’s you that brings him to a halt. He hisses as your hand wraps around his shaft.

He is long, hard,and sensitive to the touch. Thick from base to tip, deep purple veins are prominent against his skin which decorate his cock so prettily within the wetness of pearly pearlescent cum. Your hand is barely big enough to close around him fully, making Jungkook laugh dryly at your feeble attempt.

However, you’re quick to shut him up as you squeeze his cock a few times, feeling him throb, his body tensing.

The yellow street lamps continue to stream through the small window and it’s just unfair how a dingy alleyway lamp can compliment him so beautifully. It creates a halo-like backdrop around him, almost teasing you enough to think heaven really lost their most sacred one; only you know that Jungkook is nothing but sin and inevitable danger. He runs a hand through his curly onyx shaded hair, allowing multiple curls to fall into his face and in front of his eyes and you can feel the desperation within you become all too consuming as it swallows you whole.

Taking his length into both of your hands, you feel how heavy it is in your hands, and you ache to feel the weight of it on top of your tongue. The glisten of cum leaking from his slit tempts you enough to unlock your jaw and pull yourself forward towards him. Your mouth wraps around his head the smallest amount, teasingly, eyes staring straight up at Jungkook as your tongue circles his slit for his taste.

You savour the saltiness of his pre-cum, making sure to suck at the slit to paint your wet muscle with more tangy goodness. Starting off slow, you kitten lick the head, coating his cock in saliva to ready yourself for taking him in further.

Your mouth sinks down further, passing his cockhead and taking in some of the delicious thickness of his length. Your lower lip drags over the underside of his cock, massaging the vein with every suck.

“Ah shit, such a good little cockwhore,” Jungkook hisses into the open, steadying himself with one hand on the wall behind you.

Looking up at him with lust behind your lashes, you keep eye contact with him as your mouth slowly makes its way further down on him and Jungkook closes his eyes and inhales a long deep sigh and lets it out through his nose as he groans. “Yeah, looks like you fucking love me or is just my cock down your throat you’re falling for?”

Jungkook’s words are accompanied by a tender hand to the cheek where the mixture of spit and cum has dried up. His thumb caressing you back and forward. You close your eyes and focus on taking him deeper into your mouth. Your willpower takes hold of you as you sink further down until you feel your nose touch the small hairs at the lowest part of his tummy where his pubic hair rests.

Moans fall around his cock as you feel your own arousal pooling in your centre, wettening your inner thighs as you squeeze them tightly to ease the thrumming inside your pussy. One of your hands falls to his balls, cupping them and gently massaging them. The hand that isn’t currently holding his body weight finds the roots of your hair once more and tugs it hard at the sensation.

“Lean back honey and let me fuck your mouth.”

Jungkook’s cock falls from your mouth, leaving your lips connected to his cockhead by three thick slivers of spit cum mix. Your knees ache now and your throat burns but you know that you will do anything to please Jungkook so you decide to sit back on your bottom and rest your head against the cold wall as Jungkook’s thighs move either side of you.

With you now pinned up against the wall, you open your mouth once again and let Jungkook press forward, enveloping his whole cock inside your mouth. Your eyes squeeze tight as you start to gag around him. The sounds of you struggling to accommodate his thickness spurs Jungkook on further as he starts to piston himself in and out of your mouth over and over before halting his movements and holding himself at the back of your throat. Mascara from your lashes starts to puddle under your eyes as you struggle to breath past the thickness stuffed in your mouth.

“Relax your mouth, honey,” Jungkook croaks out, too lost in his own pleasure.

Doing as you’re told, you manage to relax further which gives Jungkook enough room to push past the tightness of your throat to fuck further into the tight tunnel.

“Shit, such a good girl. You’re so wet around my cock; oh f-fuck baby, take it, d-deeper.” The words of encouragement made you smile the best you can, even with a mouth filled with cock. He pulls out once more and your body gasps for as much air as you possibly can before he is back inside you.

Your gag reflex plays up every so often as Jungkook fucks into you like it’s the last time he’s ever going to see you. Focusing on your breathing helps aid the intrusion as he keeps up the hard rhythm he has his hips going in.

Feeling his hips stutter, you know he’s close. You moan loudly around his dick, the vibrations coating his shaft as he lets out the loudest moan he has of the night. You swallow around his cock, making sure to hollow out your cheeks the best you can, wanting nothing more than to see the man you love come completely undone, spilling his love for you into your awaiting tongue.

But it’s like he can read your mind as he removes himself from your mouth, watching as your eyes widen in confusion.

“Wha-why didn’t you come?” You ask, your voice hoarse.

Leaning down, Jungkook pulls you back to your feet and then lifts you into his embrace, his hands under your ass to keep you steady as you wrap your own arms around his neck and legs around his tiny waist to secure yourself. Jungkook presses you against the wall and leans in to kiss you again. It’s not gentle but it isn’t as rough as his last few kisses have been. His tongue is still insistent but you allow him to meet your own tongue with no hesitation. You feel his dick twitch against your inner thigh.

“If I'm going to come, then it’ll be inside your pussy.”

You whimper at his promise and kiss him hard on the lips again as he walks you both away from the wall. You’re lowered back onto your feet, Jungkook taking a hold of each of your shoulders and turning you around until your back is facing him.

Realising you’re standing in front of Jungkook’s motorcycle, you swallow hard at what’s to come. His hands slide down your back, following the trail of your bare spine before stopping at the small of your back. His heavy booted foot slithers its way in between your thighs and pries your legs open, watching as they spread for him.

What comes next is a shock to you. Jungkook crouches down below you, one palm on your clothed ass cheek and the other in between your legs, rubbing back and forth on your pussy. The damp spot grows with every flick of his fingertips on your clit and Jungkook makes sure to apply added pressure to the sensitive nub as he rubs.

With no warning, a tearing sound from behind you is heard and your mouth falls open in disbelief. Cold air meets your ass and that’s when it dawns on you that Jungkook has completely torn your leggings from the back. Your body hurls forward as he continues to tear the cotton material until your full ass is exposed to him. Mortification and unadulterated desire creeps up on you, warming your skin and setting your tummy alight at the realisation of the situation. But Jungkook doesn’t finish there. Grabbing the lace of your underwear, he pulls with all his strength at the article of clothing and rips them apart too. They stay on your body by your hips but the middle of your underwear is torn and dangling in between your thighs, pussy now in his vision.

Your pussy drips embarrassingly for him as your legs stay spread wide for his own enjoyment and pleasure. It’s so fucking degrading and yet you can’t seem to get enough of pleasing him.

Taking the situation into your own hands, you grab at your asscheeks and pull them apart to give Jungkook all the access to your dripping core. “Jungkook? Look how wet I am for you, baby.” You wiggle your ass left and right and back again, taunting Jungkook to touch you.

“Filthy fucking girl.” Jungkook caresses your ass. A hand is lifted and is brought down just as quick to slap you across your left asscheek.

You snort at his attempts, knowing just how to rile him up. “Is that all you got?” You grin and even though he can’t see you, you know he knows you’re grinning. He can hear it in your tone. You arch your back slightly, sticking your ass out toward him.

He slaps you once more, this time to the right listening to you hiss at the contact, prompting him to smack you again on the other side, and again back on the left — alternating cheeks until your ass is searing warm and you’re a babbling drooling mess. Jungkook dips his hands back down in between your legs and a string of curse words are sworn out loud when he finds your pussy wetter than when he started.

“Please Jungkook, I want you,” you beg, knowing you mean it in more ways than one.

You're waiting for Jungkook to do something as you stand there in front of him, pussy dripping and skin searing. Looking over your shoulder, what you didn't expect was for Jungkook to walk away from you towards his workbench filled with all kinds of equipment for fixing up bikes. You watch as he picks up something red but his body shields most of the item from your prying eyes.

He comes back and you see that the item is long and dangles from his hands as he holds it in two hands. Jungkook picks your hands up from holding your ass and places them at the bottom of your back before binding the item around your wrists.

It’s when you feel the thick PVC that you realise he has tied your hands with a pair of jumper cables. What is even more mortifying is after he finishes tying up the leads, he bends you forward onto his bike with your tits pressed against the leather of the seat in the exact same compromising position that Jimin had you in earlier in the night. But this time it’s Jungkook, and you’re bound to his liking awaiting his cock.

“Don’t fucking like seeing what’s mine with anyone else… especially not fucking Jimin,” he snarls.

Jungkook spits from behind you into his palm and grips his cock, fucking his fist in eager strokes at your bound bent state right in front of him. He pushes his cock down to swipe through your folds, catching your arousal and coating himself in your wetness — a messy concoction mixed with his own cum and spit.

“Whenever you’re in this position, you’ll be reminded that I’m the one who fucked you raw on their motorcyle.” Jungkook pushes into you at the end of his speech while his hands slither to your hips and grips the skin tight.

Usually Jungkook preps you before he fucks you, using his fingers and tongue to open you up for him — stretching you wide to fit his thick length inside but other than him finger fucking you earlier in the night, there was nothing.

The bulbous head of his dick presses further into you until it finally passes past your tight hole, stretching your cunt open, the burn welcomed almost immediately as your head falls forward and you whimper at the pained pleasure.

You manage to keep your breathing steady as your lips are caught in between your teeth to stop yourself from moaning further. Your cunt flutters around him as he continues to push himself forward; struggling to take him in fully from the lack of foreplay. You can only thank the high heavens above that Jungkook let you use his thighs to get off, to get you wet in preparation of his cock because without it, you’re absolutely sure that he would have had you apart just like your clothing. Soiled and ripped into two halves.

“So big…” you whisper, beginning to feel the lightheadedness creep over you.

Jungkook helps slightly by pushing you off his cock until it is just the tip sheathed inside your cunt before he pulls you right back into him — his cockhead already pressing against your cervix as your pussy stretches to accommodate him — moulding itself into the perfect shape just for Jungkook. Folds white and creamy each time he pulls out, just how he likes it.

Your walls relax enough to allow Jungkook to start pulling and pushing you onto his cock. You spread your legs further for him, the new space allows your body to accept him easier. Jungkook swears as he eventually bottoms out within you, hot and swollen.

“Am I giving you everything you wanted, sweetheart?” Jungkook snarls, “my little cocksleeve.”

Your mouth drops open as Jungkook keeps rolling his hips into you, feeling every inch he feeds into your greedy cunt. The bike beneath you both shifts and you hear the metal from the kickstand below grind against the floor, the machine threatening to fall but this only goads Jungkook to fuck you harder.

All that radiates from Jungkook right now is power and dominance as he completely takes over your body, using it as his own personal fucking toy. His cock manages to glide inside you with such ease, reaching deep inside of you. Each thrust accompanied by a feral grunt, as if he is putting everything he has into each pump of his cock. The sounds of the skin of his hips and thighs meeting yours fill the darkened room. Your duet of moans loud enough to be heard on the other side of the town.

“God, Jungkook! You fuck me so good — keep going — .”

Jungkook keeps up his pace, fucking into you rough, breaking his own promise from earlier. He sinks his cock back in with ease, the squelching of your cum, and skin slapping mixed with your harmonious moans fill the room. The site of your ass rippling with every thrust makes his mouth water. His hand grips your flesh and lets his fingers dig in, giving it a spank… and again twice, and thrice for his own pleasure of watching your body bounce for him.

Reaching forward, Jungkook finds your clit and circles it with two long slender fingers. You tremble beneath him, feeling your body tense as your orgasm approaches.

“Want to play with your ass,” he goads, knowing exactly how much satisfaction you gain from it. Undeniably, him too.

As quick as his fingers find your clit, they are removed and you almost let out a whine of disappointment. You’re not fast enough to give him an answer to his question before Jungkook takes his two fingers and presses them against the tight ring of your asshole, teasing little circles on your hole.

The sensation gives you flutters in your tummy, your pussy clenching at the promise of being completely filled with every part of Jungkook. Without warning, he presses his two fingers further, breaching your tight hole and immediately curling his fingers inside.

The feeling of his fingers inside your ass as he fucks your pussy makes your cunt flutter around him, which also allows your ass to tighten around his fingers too. Your hands try to reach out for Jungkook but the movement brings a nasty reminder that your wrists are still tied by the jump leads, leaving you craving to touch him even more.

You can't do anything but lie against his motorcycle as he fucks into you from behind with a ruthless pace, pushing your body into the bike.

You cry out when he finds that earthshaking spot inside of your ass. "Yes, right there," you cry.

Grunting, Jungkook makes sure he concentrates on that spot in your ass. Pulling his fingers all the way out, spitting on them to lube them back up and then pushing back into you knuckle deep. The sounds of his cock fucking into your cunt, wet obscene squealching sounds, his fingers in your ass and the slapping of skin picks up and it’s the most erotic sounds the both of you have ever heard. It may be the best sex you have both ever had.

It doesn’t take much more — just a few more drags of his fingers in your tight ass with his tattooed fingers as he continues to impale you right down on his cock until you cum, almost blacking out from how forceful your orgasm is. It's breathtaking and you can't keep your eyes open as he fucks into you, spurts of your cum splattering him as you struggle to breathe.

Jungkook moans, pushing harder into you while you are still working through your orgasm. Cunt tight and pulsing around his length, he smirks when you squeal out his name again.

“Another.” He demands, keeping up the harsh slap of his hips.

Jungkook fills your ass with a second finger this time. The arrival of his middle finger is a tight squeeze but he manages to fit it alongside his forefinger perfectly. You feel your muscles constrict around his fingers at the new intrusion. Your cum spilling out of your used pussy as Jungkook fucks you raw like his own filthy possession. Like his own dirty fleshlight.

Your head turns swiftly to the side to see Jungkook above you. His hair is in a disarray, small droplets of sweat hiding behind his tresses of hair, allowing strands upon strands to stickily cling to his face. You watch as his abdomen flexes with each stroke, the deep V lines of his pelvis appearing and disappearing with every thrust. His cock exits you covered in your white viscid lust from your first orgasm as your second nears.

“I’m coming —,”

He looks monstrous with eyes dark and dilated with lust as his lips are caught in between his canines, expression clouded with carnality. He looks so beautiful like this. In the midst of his own pleasure.

You feel your body tense all over as your second orgasm rips through you. “Right there, please, I-I’m coming,” you scream, head blank and dizzy from the pleasure as you come all over again. Your body is tense and tears fall from your lashes and coats your cheeks in wetness. You mewl and scream, Jungkook plunging his cock harder and harder into you, coaching you through your high.

Pulling out of you, Jungkook pulls you off of his bike with the jump cable lead in his hand and guides you to your knees. Jungkook tilts his head to the side as your mouth envelopes him once more, opting to suck on his cock rough and fast.

He gathers his fists on top of your head to still your head as he begins to fuck into your throat with renowed vigor. Your eyes close as you taste both your own cum and Jungkook’s salty essence all at once. You relax your jaw to allow Jungkook to push himself past the tightness of your throat as he gives out a feral grunt with every stroke of his cock.

“So eager to have your mouth stuffed with my cum, aren’t you!?”

You hum at the praise, mouth too full to tell him exactly how it makes you feel as you squeeze your eyes closed in pleasure. With one final thrust, Jungkook stills his hips, his cock blanketed by your oesophagus at the back of your throat, leaving you gagging and coughing. Spurts of warm cum paint the back of your mouth as you feel him slide out of you as he reaches his orgasm. White sticky cum coats every part of your throat, tongue, and cheeks as you look up into his eyes, tongue hanging out for more.

You both put your lips back around his dick and suckle softly on the tip, tongue teasing the slit for more cum. Jungkook falls back slightly, using his elbows to prop his weight up against the workstation his tools are on.

You pull away from his cock, making a loud ‘pop’ as your lips leave his head. You shower his dick with small kitten kisses, feeling it soften against your lips.

“Jimin will never be able to fuck you like I do, sweetheart, just remember that.”

Again, warmth radiates all over your body at his words — the knowledge of you being his and his only gives you a prideful buzz.

Titling your head to look at Jungkook, who is towering over you, you smile a sweet saccharine smile and wink. “Jimin will never be able to fuck me like you,” you agree. “But what about Taehyung?”

note: pls don’t be a silent reader & leave some feedback in my asks, reblog with a nice comment or even a lil reply saying if you enjoyed — big or small, they go a long way! supporting writers is always important <3

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