#slowly killing yourself and your self expression | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonycries · 7 months

Text

Go For It, Gojo! - G.S.

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

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

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

Word count. 10.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, yes, Mr. Gojo.”

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

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

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

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

Oh? He wasn’t a complete idiot?

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

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

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

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

“Big talk for a little bi-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru.

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

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

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

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

“And then Yuji totally-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Turning it over.

Satoru Gojo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, you were making a fool of yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo’s lips meet yours.

Soft, they were so soft.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Desperate, huh?”

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

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

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

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

“Ah! Gojo- more.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Satoru!”

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

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

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

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

“Sh-shut up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

Your panties??

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He actually only needed two minutes.

What the fuck?

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

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

---

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

You still can’t believe that happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What was that?

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

“So, partner~ My place or yours?”

What?

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

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

---

“Literally what do you bring to the table?”

“Comedic relief and my undeniably good looks.”

“...”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ouch, no Satoru?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm~ You got it, prez.”

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

Nor was it the second-last.

Or the third-last.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

You trip. Ah, maybe not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The library?”

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

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

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

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

“Maybe.”

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

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

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

Wait. Beautiful?

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

Ah. Whoops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...yes, prez.”

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

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

“Fuck Noodletools. All my homies hate Noodletools.”

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

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

“...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It almost hurt.

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

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

And a part of you needed it to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s alright, he can just make more.

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

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

“W-what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were definitely going insane.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, it’s like that, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Slightly more clear-headed now, just as lustful.

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

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

But when has he not challenged you?

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

“Satoru.”

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

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

So he does.

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

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

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

Oh, that did it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sweetheart?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Satoru?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You still have to finish your citations.”

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

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

17K notes · View notes

nottsangel · 13 days

Note

oh oH OH but i need matteo, theo and enzo to be extremly frustrated and jealous when they noticed that we do bring home some guys!! like they're trying so hard to act nonchalant and like they don't care at all BUT they're secretly seething and plotting how they can stop us from getting any because how dare we?? we have three premium dicks at home, we don't need mediocre dick from the street heLLOOO

new girl au — in which you live with theodore, mattheo and lorenzo

“you gotta be quiet, okay? my roommates are fucking annoying and i really want to avoid them.” you whisper urgently to cedric as you slowly turn the creaky handle of the front door, carefully opening it and swiftly dragging him inside. from the kitchen, you hear theo, mattheo and enzo’s loud voices, overlapping as they chat and laugh uncontrollably, the noise echoing through the apartment.

“go that way.” you whisper again, pointing as you tip-toe nervously toward your bedroom while tightly gripping cedric’s hand to guide him. you hold your breath, tense with anticipation, desperately trying not to make a sound. and you think you’ve succeeded— until you hear mattheo’s nagging voice.

“so you’re not even going to introduce your new friend to us?” you groan in frustration, slowly turning on your heel before forcing a bright, yet clearly fake smile. “oh! i didn’t know you guys were home.” “bullshit.” theo mutters under his breath, making you roll your eyes in sheer annoyance.

“anyway, this is cedric. now, if you guys don’t mind—” “cedric, huh? welcome to our glamorous house. make yourself at home.” lorenzo says in the laziest, most indifferent tone, not even bothering to look at cedric.

then mattheo chimes in, his voice dripping with mocking amusement, “you’re like the fifth guy he’s had to say that to this week, so he’s a bit tired of it already, y’know.” your eyes widen in surprise, and your lips form a thin, displeased line while feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“what!? that— that’s not even true! cedric, don’t listen—”

“yeah, she’s fucking a guy in there like every night. we’re barely getting any sleep these days.” theo adds with a derisive chuckle, sarcastically winking at you as he takes a sip from his drink.

“and she doesn’t just fuck guys from outside these walls, if you know what i mean. but i’m sure she told you.” lorenzo smirks cockily, a self-satisfied and arrogant expression plastered on his face. at this point, you see red as you glare at each of them with narrowed eyes and your jaw tightly clenched, while cedric stands awkwardly by your side, giving you an uneasy and uncomfortable smile.

“uhm, hey… guys. nice to meet you. it’s— it’s a nice apartment you have.”

“cedric, you can go to my room. i’ll be there in a bit, okay?”

it’s dead silent as you’re glaring daggers at the boys, your arms folded tightly across your chest, before you finally hear your bedroom door click shut. “I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD! what the FUCK is wrong with you guys!? oh my god, i’m so done with—”

“relax, baby. it’s just guy banter, alright? you clearly don’t get it, but he does.” lorenzo explains nonchalantly with a smug expression, but you know he’s full of shit, seeing right through him. you furiously storm towards them and slap each of the boys angrily on the back of their heads.

“ow! what was that for?” mattheo asks, wincing in pain and rubbing the back of his head. “are you fucking serious?! you guys are cockblocking me, you dumb fuck.”

“calm down, piccola. you know we love you, hm?” theo comments teasingly, tightly wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close, planting a quick, playful kiss on your head.

“this isn’t love! pull shit like this again and i swear to god, i’ll kill each one of you with my bare fucking hands.” “yes ma’am. got it ma’am. please kill mattheo first, ma’am.” “oh fuck you enzo.”

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

1K notes · View notes

frmisnow · 1 month

Text

BORDEAUX !

summary. after you realize that the man you had a drunk one night stand with, was in fact your new ceo. you settle on avoiding him as best as you could- but why do you feel so drawn to him?

notes. welcome to a new verse (aka. series), usually most of my series are more fluffy w a touch of smut (besides two whores, one job lol) but this one is gonna be a lot more angsty and smutty! so i hope y'all are into that kinda jam 🍷⭒⋆｡˚

warnings /includes. (1.7 k words / suggestive!) non idol! ceo! jungkook x non specified! reader, alcohol, shitty ex :/, jk is an alcohol nerd?, reader kind of uses him to kill bad memories ?, making out

the air was heavy with the scent of alcohol and smoke melted with the faint music somewhere in the background: jazz, how unfitting for this kind of environment. the enviornment which people go to specifically to escape reality, for a few minutes, maybe a few hours.

the alcohol wasn't bad, at least judging by the wine and it offered a sense of peace or rebellion, stupid fucking rebellion. your ex used to despise wine with all of his heart, he hated the scent of it, didn't want you to drink any of it near him.

he didn't like when you drank alcohol over all, he was stern on the idea of keeping you innoccent. you chugged down the glass like a shot at the sheer memory of the behavior you used to put up with.

the glass hits the table with a dull thud and you could almost hear his voice, scolding you for how reckless you were. you reach out for the bottle, pouring yourself another glass. and this time you savor the taste on your tongue, the rich flavor.

you feel eyes burning into your face, no- not burning, observing. it didn't feel uncomfortable but you could firmly feel them on you. the man's presence cut through the fog of alcohol and self-pity that had settled over you, and for a moment, you simply stared.

you should have looked away, but you didn’t. instead, you lifted your glass to your lips, taking another sip of wine, feeling the liquid slide down your throat, heavy and warm. he watched you, his expression unreadable, but his eyes never leaving yours.

he stands up making his way to you, and suddenly the crowd and all the shitty memories fade away, it was almost like he had a bigger effect on you then the alcohol did and that said a lot.

finally, he spoke, his voice low and smooth, like velvet draped over steel. “mind if i join you?”

the question was formal, did he work in business? no, that would be stupid to assume based of just a question. you nod, slowly but surerly, motioning towards the chair next to you.

he takes the seat next to you, signaling for a nearby waiter, requesting another glass, before turning his attention back to you. his gaze is intense and unwavering, as if he’s trying to see straight through to your soul.

“rough night?” he asks, his tone conversational but his eyes still focused intently on you.

his thigh touched yours, the proximity with somebody you didn't know should make you feel uncomfortable but it strangely didn't. "yeah," you mouth. the whole truth was too complicated, too raw, to lay out infront of a stranger.

a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, before he speaks again, his voice was soft, almost soothing. "you're downing that glass like it's water."

you look at the almost empty glass that your fingers had been circling around while talking to him, he was right. you didn't even remember how many glasses you had, three perhaps?

"you have a pretty voice," you mumble, finshing what was left of liquid in the glass.

he raised an eyebrow at the compliment, surprised by the sudden comment from you. he can't help but chuckle a little, amused by the drunken confession. "thank you," he replies, sounding sincere.

you both barerly talked, you were two strangers in a cheap bar, why bother talking about boring jobs? the night was young.

the music in the background shifted, a slower, bluesy tune now. the more you looked at him, the more you could firmly feel his thigh pressed into your own. his fingers, tattooed, why hadn't you noticed that earlier? took the wine bottle from earlier, tilting it around to look at the label. he seemed to know the brand, humming in approval.

"it's a good vintage." he says, still holding the bottle but his eyes are on you, studying your face in the dim light.

and this actually managed to crack a smile out of you. it wasn't meant to be a funny comment, in fact he seemed serious about it. was he an alcohol expert? the fact that you knew absolutly nothing about wine made it better.

he takes a sip from his own glass, his eyes never leaving yours. he can't help but find your lack of knowledge about wine oddly endearing.

please, talk me stupid about alcohol. i want to know what rebellion tastes like. the words linger on your tongue but you don't cave into the urge of saying them. i want you to teach me what he was so afraid of showing me.

"i have a whole collection of rare and expensive wines back at my place. some you would never find even in the best bars," he pauses, his hand brushing slightly against your arm.

"are you trying to make me come home with you?" you ask though it's not a question you necessarily need an answer to, you knew what he had meant.

"and if i was?" his eyes stay on yours, tilting his head, "would you come with me?"

stupid fucking question.

the second you step into his apartment, the door closing behind you, he is already on you. his hands are on your waist, holding you firmly in place as his tongue invades your mouth, tasting the mixture of your saliva and the rich flavor of the wine.

when you both take time to breathe, you ask, "so where is the wine you were talking about?" your tone is clearly intoxicated, your eyes a little hazy as he doesn't let go of you and you both stumble towards his living room together. the action seeming strangely domestic.

"it's right there." his voice a tad bit breathless, he motions towards a large display of alcohol, his eyes scanning the selection before settling on a particular bottle.

he reaches for the bottle, the arm around your waist still keeping you close to him, the alcohol clearly making the both of you more touchier then you would be sober.

jungkook holds up the bottle, letting you get a good look at the label. it was an expensive brand, even you could tell that, the words written on it swirling in an elegant script.

you hum, "italy," leaning into his touch sub counciously whilst he drew little circles over the clothed skin, twisting the bottle, "when did you get this?"

"i have a guy who brings me the good stuff from time to time."

your eyes wandered over the display, you wanted to kneel forward to look over the bottles but didn't want to get out of his embrace either.

it felt good, doing everything your ex would scrutinize you for. he'd be disapproving off even letting you look over all of these.

his head made a little motion towards almost like a silent 'go on' like he could firmly hear your thoughts.

the bottles seemed rare, visably very espensive and whilst you looked over the alcohol, he looked at you.

"what do you think?" he asks after a few minutes, tone soft and quiet like he didn't want to disturb you.

"i think i've had enough to drink already but it's all really pretty," you trail off, "you're really pretty"

jungkook smiles at the comment, reaching forward to run his fingers through your hair, the gesture seemingly absentminded yet surprisingly tender, "is that the alcohol talking?"

you shrug, grinning, "i honestly don't know"

he studies your face for a moment, his eyes roving over your features. he reaches out, his fingers grazing your jawline, the touch light and gentle. "you know, you're very pretty yourself," he says, his voice almost a murmur.

the color of the red wine in your hands is now the exact color of your cheeks and your mind is empty as you lean forward to kiss him once more.

this time when your lips meet, it was rather delicate and slow. as you both sat on the ground next to the large display and kissed eachother like it was the end of the world.

and you don't stop when you felt like you couldn't breathe, placing your hand on his chest, feeling the pulse beneath the shirt. this was what drowning memories was all about.

your ex didn't kiss like this. he didn't hold you like this and he most certaintly will never get the chance to redeem himself ever.

you find yourselves sinking to the floor while jungkook craddles your face as if you were something precious, something worth cherishing.

your ex kissed you just to check of the foreplay box, jungkook kisses you because he wants to.

"i want you," you mumur against his lips as you both take time to breathe.

you wake up to harsh sunlight filtering through the blinds, you realize you're lying on a coach. his coach. the cool leather fabric is a stark contrast to your bare skin, that's when you notice — you’re only in your panties. red lace with little bows.

the rest of your clothes are scattered on the floor, your shirt draped over the armrest, your skirt crumpled beside it.

you try to piece the events of last night together, did you sleep together? ... you can't quite remember. you sit up slowly, your head pounding with the dull throb of a hangover.

jungkook's presence was no where to be found, the apartment was dead quiet. he left you here, naked and confused: what a dick.

you do your best to gather the clothes, slipping into them, you search for your phone, finding it next to the alcohol display. you take another look at the various bottles, now sober.

you shake your head at how easy you were yesterday, checking the time on your phone until your heart drops — the meeting. the meeting you could not afford to miss.

you let out a groan of frustration, fighting the zipper of your skirt, great- you were going to meet your new ceo looking and feeling like a mess.

you step into the large building with your heart still pounding, why did the metro station have to be so far away from your job? running as fast as you can had been your only option.

you push through the glass doors of the conference room, instantly sitting down, you did not want the people to look even more then a second at the wrinkled skirt of yours.

the important man stands facing away from you, writing something down on a white board. he seemed pretty tall, confident posture.

and then he turns around.

your expression drops. it's him. it's the man from last night.

🍓 tag list — @chansloverr , @marimarvelfan , @bxcndd

#🍷⭒⋆｡˚ all kinds of wine! verse #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #bts fic #jungkook #jungkook fic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bangtan x you #bangtan x reader #bangtan fic

1K notes · View notes

munivrse · 3 months

Text

cw: perv sunghoon, voyeurism (???), sunghoon watches you shower. cumming untouched (technically).

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

sunghoon lounges on the couch, waiting for you to get ready so he can walk you to class today. he hears the shower turn on and silently cheers in his brain. this might be his second favorite time of the day.

he jumps off the couch and takes a stroll to the bathroom. you never lock the door, silly girl. he quietly turns the knob and cracks the door open just enough to see your pretty body through the frosted glass.

you're so fucking pretty. just thinking about you makes him hard, so for him to be able to see you? it makes him want to cream his pants right then and there but he has some sort of self control. he knows your routine by now, having peeked at you every day for the past month or so.

the first time was an accident. he opened the door without knocking and accidentally walked in. he apologized and you said it was fine and you both moved on but sunghoon... sunghoon needed to see it again. so, as anyone would, he made it a habit. he'd open the door slowly and see if you had any reaction. once he confirms you didn't hear, he'd just watch.

sometimes he'll fist his cock while he watches you. it gets him so hard, makes him so fucking dizzy at the thought of you catching him. he wants you to. he wants you to step out of the shower and catch him fucking his hand while he stares at you. sometimes he'd even blow his load on your clothes in hopes you'll ask him about it, but you never do.

usually you start with your hair routine. while it conditions, you start washing your body. you run your washcloth down your arms, on your neck, make your way to your tits- this part sunghoon zeroes in on. god he'd kill to suck on them. he imagines them bouncing as he fucks into you or maybe while you ride him. then you make your way down your stomach, stick the washcloth between your legs, then you move down your legs and-

you've discarded your washcloth? you've set it to the side. what's different about this shower? its not wash day for you, you wouldve prepped for that before your shower. you shaved yesterday and wouldve done so before starting to wash so what-

sunghoons jaw drops and his brain short circuits as he watches you reach your hand between your legs instead. his knees buckle as he sees your hand move in small, slow circles. you've never done this in the shower before. in fact, he's yet to see or hear you touch yourself but here you are- in the shower, soaken wet, trying to get yourself off in front of him.

he wills himself not to get hard. he can't. he cannot be distracted. fuck- where is his phone? he scurries into the livingroom to grab the device and quickly gets back to the bathroom. his hand shakes as he presses record. he makes sure not to watch it through the camera, he needs to see this with his own eyes first.

you've moved from slow circles to quick ones. he's a little surprised at this. surely you would take your time? perhaps you were being quick about it because you'd be walking with him to class. you've always been so considerate.

his tongue pokes out of his lip when your hand changes positions. he knows youve put a finger inside of you he just knows it. he can't make out any facial expressions but he sees your body tense a little bit- must be the stretch.

your other hand moves up your body and stops at your chest. your hand squeezes your tits together and then focuses on one, pulling your nipple and sunghoon swears he hears a moan out of you. the hand in your cunt moves faster and the hand on your tits comes to the glass door of the shower to hold yourself up and sunghoon can barely fucking breath.

you'd clearly done this before as your hands move with familiarity and ease- why did you do it in the shower this time?

sunghoon hears another, much louder moan from you and his head spins. he wonders if he wouldve been able to hear it from outside of the door or if the shower wouldve drowned it out. whatever the outcome, he thanks god that he's watching you right now.

he feels silly for being so starstruck but never in a million years did he think he would hit the jackpot like this. he sees your chest rise and fall quicker. oh god, you're about to cum. he's about to watch you fucking cum all over yourself in the shower and his head spins and his eyes unfocus as he realizes hes been subconsciously humping the doorframe this whole time.

and when you let out a soft whine followed by a couple whimpers, sniffles even, sunghoon feels himself shoot his load in his pants. his free hand grabs the doorframe to steady himself as he stumbles. he himself whimpers a little, caught off guard by his own orgasm. he's not even a little embarrassed, just happy he was able to witness this. he stops recording and quietly shuts the door.

he doesn't need to watch you finish your shower anymore. instead, he'll watch the video once more and empty his balls once again before changing his outfit.

if you ask, he'll say he spilled milk on his pants which, metaphorically, is not a lie.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon smut

2K notes · View notes

snghnlvr · 9 months

Text

come on baby, don’t say that. / park sunghoon

park sunghoon x fem reader

synopsis : you were curious whether or not your boyfriend was a possessive type so you tested it out.

extra: his part in the baby shark movie lives in my mind 24/7, i hear it everywhere anytime and it’s making me LOSE my damn sanity | the ONE fansign video of op asking questions to sunghoon about dating ggggrrrrrrr | literally last minute drabble i had , it was supposed to be posted for my birthday but studies got in the way .. ew studies…:// | en o’ clock reference⁉️

likes, comments and reposts are very appreciated <3

[below the cut]

curiosity perhaps did kill the cat.

you wore your favorite dress (also sunghoon’s favorite dress), styled your favorite into a bun with two strands on each side of your face, wore makeup to emphasize your face features and wore your favorite ruffled socks to put your loafers on.

you dolled yourself so much just for sunghoon’s attention, but on the bright side you felt pretty all dressed up.

you didn’t know what was purpose of doing this to yourself up when you didn’t have any plans.

one day, bored in your living room of both you and sunghoon’s apartment, you came across a video on your foryou page about possessive behavior in someone’s partner. it made you think about your boyfriend’s behavior; curiosity overwhelming your thoughts. you tried to imagine what your boyfriend will do if these scenarios were to happen.

so, you planned out a script - going to the movie theatre with your male friend, eating with your male friend, etc. ; literally spending a whole day with a male friend. heck, you can’t imagine doing those things with a male other than sunghoon. you don’t even have money in your wallet right now.

you’ve always known sunghoon as a quiet yet clingy type of boyfriend. he wasn’t openly expressive with his clinginess he would be subtle. even with that itself it made your heart pound like crazy. but you wanted to take a step further on how clingy he could get.

you stepped out of the room, already seeing sunghoon lying around in the living room couch with his eyes glued to the tv. his eyes immediately diverted to you, getting your loafers out in front of the door.

“where are you going?” he asked, his eyes scanning to your dressed up figure. you knew he was shamelessly checking you out. it made your heart flutter and somehow boosted up your ego. but you shouldn’t be phased by his attractive face.

he wanted to compliment you but he spoke without thinking. he wonders where your gorgeous self is going especially with that little dress you owned that he loves on your body. he wonders what was the special occasion.

you put on a soft smile while adjusting your shoes. you noticed that sunghoon stood up, eyes still checking you out and wonders how such a dress curves your body so well.

sunghoon had a small smirk with his hands on his pocket, abandoning the pillow on his lap. it flopped next to him.

you smelt sunghoon’s signature scent of musk and a blend of roses. he wore his favorite grey hoodie that was stained with his cologne. it was because you would borrow it.

now that sunghoon was in front of you, he continue to look at you as his arms slowly wrapped around your waist. that’s when you spoke. “mhm just going out.” you spoke sweetly to sunghoon but he kept you against the wall as the door was right next to the both of you but you didn’t comment. you knew he was trapping you.

“with who?” you noticed how sunghoon raised an eyebrow and how his expression slowly changed into a sad one that he wasn’t the person you’re going out with.

“just a friend of mine.” you looked up to sunghoon and noticed how your answer didn’t satisfied him so you pushed it further. “a male friend of mine.” you placed a hand on his chest, lightly playing with the strings of his hoodie.

“excuse me?” sunghoon spoke, slightly amused because usually you would hang out with your female friends.

your heart was starting to exhilarate when his voice octaves dropped. “hanbin? mark? jisung?” he started rambling of the guy friends that you had on the top of his head.

you were surprised at how many he remembered. is that a good thing?

sunghoon noticed your eyes widening so he took a deep breath and placed a soft smile that seemed a bit fake from your perspective.

“don’t go.”

what a contrast.

you almost snickered when you noticed sunghoon’s lips twitching, trying to lee his smile still but his hands wrapped around your waist, wrapped further until his hands reached his elbows. you were cold to him, close enough that your hands on his chest was the only barrier separating you two.

you found it somehow adorable to see him pouting.

you copied him. “taerae and i planned to go out and work work on our project for a while now.” you mentally apologized for using your friend’s name on the spot but you panicked to make something new on top of your head.

“where are you guys going?” you couldn’t handle sunghoon’s stare despite dating him so you looked down towards his buff chest. sometime about his stare sparked jealousy and agitated but he kept his mouth shut.

“we planned to watch a movie theatre together then a cafe and then the library.”

“alone?”

“yeah..”

you swore when you looked up at sunghoon, he was frozen, mouth apart as he was speechless. his eyes started to twitch. he then blinked at you multiple times to see if you were joking.

well, you were. but you kept a serious face on which didn’t show any sort of crackling.

“it sounds more like a date.” you can tell his whiny tone with his words, lips pouting that made you want to pinch his cheeks but you held back.

you shook his head. “why would i have a date with taerae when i can have with you?” you tilted your head, chuckling at his remark. “you’re literally my boyfriend.” you giggled lightly.

sunghoon sighed. “then don’t go. i’ll help you with the project instead, heck i’ll go to taerae instead of you.” his eyes were showing pettiness that you can’t help but lightly giggle. you saw sunghoon’s grumpy expression as he kept you close to him.

you poked at his birth mole under his eye. “boop.” were the words you let out but it didn’t phase sunghoon, keeping his grumpy expression on.

“we don’t even attend the same college hoon.” sunghoon’s eyes soften when you easily roll off his nickname out loud. he rather rolled his eyes instead.

“i have to go soon,” you looked at the clock behind sunghoon’s figure. it was 2pm. you were surprised your acting has gone this far and you’re continuing. you thought it was fun to make your boyfriend jealous.

“hoon, let go of me.” your hands flew to his triceps, surprised at how his muscle flexed against your touch. you lightly touched his muscle which broke sunghoon’s grumpy expression again.

you looked at him with an eyebrow raise, hoping he would be persuaded to let you go but he shook his head like a kid.

“come on baby, don’t say that.”

your heart beat started pounding like crazy. you were astonished at the unexpected sentence. you suddenly stared at sunghoon, how a strand of hair was covering his eye so you unconsciously moved it behind his ear, eyes watching your actions. sunghoon stared at your lips, stained with your red lipstick.

“taerae can wait another day.” sunghoon started rubbing your back with his hands, making you frozen and loosing your train of thoughts.

yeah forget taerae.

“it would be amazing to show him how beautiful my girlfriend is but i want you to myself right now baby.” sunghoon started to lean closer, his hand cupping your jaw and slowly easing your cheek with his soft fingers.

you closed your eyes and leaned against his relaxing touch. “you sound possessive park.” you were satisfied with your act, chuckling slightly at how amused you are.

sunghoon giggled as well, his deep giggle erupting in him as you felt him leaning more into you. “mhmm maybe?” he shrugged with a smile.

you opened your eyes and see sunghoon staring at you with love and affection. you can’t help but to plant a lot of kisses to his lips. you saw sunghoon staring at your lips and you predicted what was gonna happen next.

“mhmm yeah.” you smiled mischievously at sunghoon, removing his arms from your waist and turned around towards the door which showed your back to him.

maybe you’re not done yet.

but before you can open the door, sunghoon wrapped his arms once again which prevented you from not moving. your hands reached to the cold door handle but didn’t touch. his hands gripped your hips which indicated a new side of your boyfriend, park sunghoon.

sunghoon’s lips pecked your neck. “not on my watch.” his hot breath contrasted your cold skin, tickling you.

your heart paused at his actions.

you felt your boyfriend’s chest against your back, giving you instant warmth to your cold, clammy skin. his hug was very comforting and at this point you gave up with your little skit.

“possessive and back hugging me? how romantic.” you chuckled. you felt a sharp pain in the side of your neck, “ow!” you shouted in shock when it was sunghoon’s playful behavior of showing his love. you knew sunghoon had fangs and he unfortunately is abusing that characteristic of his by biting you. you rather found it his fangs adoring yet a bit hot that your boyfriend looked like an actual vampire.

you felt sunghoon’s tongue’s slowly soothing that area when he licked your pain away; like a cat. you smiled when he hugged you tighter as his face was dug into your neck as if you’ll disappear.

sunghoon abruptly stopped hugging you but rather grabbed your hand, dragging you across the hallway towards the bed that both of you live in, filled with smiles and flustered cheeks.

thank you for reading<3 hope you enjoyed!

#enha imagines #enha scenarios #enha smau #enha x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #sunghoon drabbles #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon oneshot #sunghoon drabble #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon #sunghoon #enhypen

2K notes · View notes

lunamochii · 8 months

Text

"We were just getting to the good part.." // rafayel x f!reader

cw // smut, phone seggs, use of endearment 'baby'

a/n: Inspired by that one call with him and told us to make some noise😩

part two

~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

You were just scrolling and watching videos on your phone while laying on your bed when Rafayel's caller id appeared. You sat yourself up and rest your back on the headboard. Tapping the accept button, you were greeted by his bored voice.

"Hey, what are you doing right now?"

"About to go to sleep. Why?" You ask while looking out on the window

"Don't sleep yet. Why don't you accompany me, hm? I'm finishing this painting and the silence is killing me..."

"But I gotta wake up early tomorrow for work..."

You heard him groan and you can already imagine him rolling his eyes

"Hmp! You barely got time for me. Fine, I understand. Who am I even to you, right? It's okay. You can hang up."

You couldn't stop yourself and burst out to laughter and you heard him groan in annoyance.

"Gosh! You're unbelievable Rafayel! Fine fine, what can I do to accompany you?"

"No no it's okay. Don't push yourself. I understand that I don't matter to you anymore.."

You giggled to yourself before laying flat on your stomach

"Oh come on, you big baby. Care to tell what can I do?"

You heard him sigh but his definitely smling

"Just make some noise. Your voice is enough to keep me going and finish this painting."

He said and resume on what he was doing but a minute have passed but you haven't said a word. He thought you fell asleep and was about to call your name out when you made a noise. A noise he only knows.

You gulp before letting out a whimper and soft moan. You decided to mess with him and ended the call right away after making that noise but Rafayel called again but this time, his requesting a video call. You answered it right away and you were met with his gaze, you can tell that his sitting on his couch. You sat up again with your back leaning on the headboard of your bed.

"You really do enjoy teasing me huh..."

"Hm? What do you mean?" You played dumb but he won't let you get away on what you just did

"Oh baby, if I was there I would have you gripping on my shoulders for support."

He grin when he saw you blush and look away from the camera

"Oh uh, don't look away. Now, why don't you flip your camera and let me what you are wearing?"

"Rafayel!" You gasp

"What? You started this."

He said and his camera flip and now you're looking at the tent on his pants.

"Pfft- your expression right now is amusing."

"You! Ugh, fine."

You said and flip your camera and now his looking at your expose legs and your cleavage. You are wearing the night gown he bought you. You heard him cuss faintly and his hands began to caress his member throught the fabric of his pants.

"Fuck, place your phone on a stand and make sure it's facing you."

You did as what he told you and he did what he just said to you. Now, you can clearly see how his a blushing mess. Ears red as a tomato as he tries to drown his voice by placing his other hand over his mouth.

"What do you want me to do next, Yel?" You ask

"Mhm spread your legs.."

Your heart thump as you did and his eyes almost pop out from it's socket seeing you aren't wearing a underwear. You saw how his hand grip tight and his eyes darted from your face to your expose cunt.

"Holy... you're beautiful..."

"Hey! You're being unfair. Why don't you get rid of your pants too?"

"Woah easy, I will.."

He unbuckled his pants and immediately took it off and toss it on the side together with his underwear. Seeing his erect cock, you can't help but gulp. You felt yourself getting wet and your thighs closes trying to get a friction.

"Loving what you see huh...don't close your legs on me baby. Kee them open and start to touch yourself."

You simply nodded and began to touch yourself, a moan escape from your lips and it prompted Rafayel to began touching his self too. It began with slow strokes to his cock and your fingers slowly tracing circles on your clit.

"Can't believe I'm doing this with you... haah insert a finger.."

"Rafayel..."

You moan out his name as soon you insert a finger and he almost came by just that. He run his free hand to his hair and began to jerk off at the sight of you fucking yourself with your own finger.

"Damn it! Hng, tomorrow... come to my house.."

"O-Okay.. this feel so good..."

Your free hand starts to grope your breast and your hips began to grind on your finger as your moan got more louder and louder

"That's it baby. Fuck yourself... hm you look so sexy..."

"Oh Yel! I want your cock in me so bad..."

"You will... hnng! Insert another finger baby.."

You take your one finger out and brought it close to your lips, sucking on two fingers you could taste yourself. Then, you slowly insert two fingers inside you making you arch your back, your legs trembling

"Shit! Shit! Thrust it faster baby, come on."

"Rafayel! Rafayel!"

"Shh I'm here.."

A sob escape your lips as you felt overstimulated already, your fingers is now easily slipping in and out of you while your other hand is groping and pinching your nipples.

"Look at me baby.. look at me..."

Your gaze drop on your phone and you can see how hard his jerking off his cock. His hips bucking, thrusting into the air.

"I wanna kiss you so bad Rafayel..."

"Me too baby, me too. Hmm I'm cumming.."

"Let's cum together.."

He nodded and you throw your head back as you thrust your fingers more faster and harder that you can hear squelching noise it's making due to it being so wet. You heard him moan your name too and you also heard something crash down but you're too high to care right now.

"Rafayel!"

"Fuck!"

You both came together and you couldn't stop yourself from drilling your fingers deep into you as you slowly thrust your fingers riding yourself down from your own high.

Rafayel curse through his mind seeing how he spilled his own cum on the floor, he let go of his cock and grab the box of tissues and clean himself up. Once he was done on cleaning himself and the floor. He wore his pants again and sat down on the couch again, he grab his phone to get it closer to his face. He saw how fuck you are that you still let out a moan when you removed your fingers out of your cunt.

"You okay baby? I'll come over right now. I'll bring your favorite foods."

You slowly sat up and grab your phone, you shut your eyes trying to sort your mind out. You lay back down on the bed and curl to your side, holding your phone with both of your hands.

"Hurry Yel', wanna kiss you s'bad.."

He chuckles before kissing the screen

"Alright, see you baby.

You could only hum as a response and you drift off to sleep and he ended the call. He grab the key to your house which you gave to him.

With a smile to his face, he can only think on how he'll have you all to himself tonight and tomorrow.

1K notes · View notes

1nthedarknessofthenight · 5 months

Text

﴾ out of the blue, part two.

pairing: ot8 x f!reader, part one

genre: one-shot, idol au, smut

word count: 14,5k

warnings: gangbang ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ hair pulling ⋆ small choking ⋆ biting ⋆ marking ⋆ ass slapping ⋆ one!pussy slap ⋆ oral (m. and f. receiving) ⋆ fingering (f. receiving) ⋆ squirting ⋆ multiple!creampie ⋆ cum eating ⋆ rimming and fingering (f. receiving) ⋆ anal ⋆ boobjob! ⋆ double penetration! ⋆ cowgirl! and reverse cowgirl!position ⋆ doggy style! and ass up, face down!position ⋆ daddy kink (guess for who) ⋆ small boy and boy action—the guys are just really close but nothing happens

summary: after some much needed alone time with your boyfriend on his birthday, you somehow forgot about his friends coming over…

author’s note: y’all was hungry for part two so here it is and thank you all for the support!

──────────────────────

You were gasping for air, hands in your lap and legs tucked underneath you as you try to make yourself as small as possible. However there is no way you could hide from any of their eyes. This whole situation shouldn’t make you feel so excited, yearning for anything to happen. This was all your boyfriend’s idea, you thought, looking at his figure sitting on your loveseat, watching all of this so innocently but you could see right through him. He likes this idea as much as you do, well he wanted it first for some odd reason, you are just trying to pick up any self dignity left in you.

You sat on the couch with two of his friends, you at the corner, trying to conceal yourself. Your eyes catch the hard eyes of the leader of the band, face scrunched up into an expression you know he does if truly impressed. It makes you pick up the tulle of your babydoll, keeping your hands occupied as you suddenly feel something shift beside you. The room is quiet, awfully so, everyone waiting for someone to pick up the conversation and it was no other than the cute guy with puffy cheeks and pouty lips.

You turn your head to him. He sits next to you, though now closer, moving slowly like he is being careful not to scare you away. Is it bad you want your boyfriend’s friends to fuck you? “You look pretty.” Han says, looking at your face but his eyes keep glancing down at your push up bra. Your breath hitches as his hand slowly comes to your breast, stopping to caress only with his finger the lace of your bra. You swear you could feel his touch burning you.

“We don’t have to do this, Y/N.” Spoke up Chan, making you snap your head into his direction. He out of everyone looks slightly less deranged from this situation, in exception the youngest doesn’t even want to look at you. “We can pretend like this never happened. We already talked about it–“

“You talked about this?” You breathe out in small shock, eyes wide. The hand hovering over your breast suddenly comes to your thigh, squeezing it. You glance back at Han, heart pumping wildly. His whole demeanor seem to change as the only thing on his mind is your skin against his.

Licking his pretty, pink lips, he looks up with a small cheeky smile on his lips. “We did. Everyone would really like to make this whole fantasy come true.”

“Don’t act so innocent now, Y/N.” Says Seungmin. “We heard how much you like this idea.”

Your lips are pressed against each other into a thin line, head hanging low. How could you not when your boyfriend was giving it to you all so good and then talked about his equally handsome friends joying you two. A finger raises your head back up by your chin, making you look into the dark eyes of one of his friends. You almost sigh in annoyance at his unmoving hand on your thigh. “Do you like it, Y/N?”

Shivering, you close your eyes for a moment, before opening them again. This isn’t a dream, this is literally your dirtiest fantasy come true. You always wanted to be tossed around, used and fucked dumb that the only thing on your mind is them. Everyone would kill to be in your position right now. From dating one of the most desirable man right now, to be touched like this by his friends — to be fucked by all of them. You don’t know what makes Felix so horny about this from his point but he definitely likes it as much as you. Looking into his eyes you only see desire, almost pleading but he would never push you into something you wouldn’t like. Oh, but you love it. “Yes!” You say, leaning over to get closer to Han. Your voice is raspy as your mind is overfilling with dirty thoughts. “Fuck, I love it..please fuck me, all of you.”

Your hands fly to his shirt, crunching it up in your fists. Han breathes out shakily, eyes shining in the setting sun, peaking out of the window. He grabs your forearms tightly, making your boobs push flush together. “Damn, love. You sure know how to use the proper words…” Exclaims Minho, voice on an edge, he was slightly shock by your sudden boldness.

Heart beats wildly inside your chest, looking into the eyes of your boyfriend’s friend, faces so close but you still had to make sure… “Can I Felix?” You mumble, tightening your grip on the shirt, while glancing at your boyfriend.

His eyes were wide, licking his lips at the sight before him. “I think he wants this more than you do.” Teases Changbin, glancing at your boyfriend’s obvious bulge. Some of them laugh at the words but your attention is only on Felix who wipes his sweaty palms onto his sweatpants.

He watches his close friend leaning over your body, lips dangerously close to the pulse point on your neck. He can’t miss the twinkle in his eyes and the way he grips your arms closer to his slightly exposed chest. Felix slowly nods his head, sealing the deal. The answer fills the heavy air and you sigh out as Han in front of you finally presses his lips onto your neck.

He firstly kisses the skin softly, testing if you don’t mind but you only pull him closer at that. You feel light headed from the way his kisses become progressively more rough. He, for a moment stops, turning his head to look you in your eyes, pulling your hands away from his shirt. Words weren’t exchange but you understood immediately, loosening your grip on the material and he on the other hand does something different. His hold travels over your arms to your wrist, awaking goosebumps all over your body. His movements stop there, pressing your wrist together, before pulling your arms above your head.

You gasp out as he slowly makes you fall back onto the couch, pressing your arms by your wrists on the headrest. It’s been a long time since you felt so helpless under someone, it makes a different kind of emotions run through you. You never felt cornered or intimidated by Han, he was always so sweet to you and in some way he reminded you of your boyfriend. The two were always sweet, bright smiles all over their faces but you should’ve known better. Even by dating Felix for a while now, he still surprised you by his dominance sometimes but you never guessed Han to be the same. He towers over you now, hips dangerously close to yours as he kneeled between your open legs. God, you have to buy some new panties.

He lowers himself closer to you, chests pressing together and both of you sighing. You could feel his well made muscles on your chest and he could definitely feel your hard nipples poking him through the layers of clothing. Your mouth opens in silent gasp as his knee grazes over your crotch and he uses your surprise by pressing his lips to yours. There are pillowy, you could taste his cherry chapstick on them, making you moan on his tongue that grazed over your teeth. It feels so dirty and wrong to kiss someone other than your boyfriend and literally infront of him but you now know that this could basically make him cum in his pants, like he did the first time he ate you out.

You are right however by your statement that Han is in some way similar to your boyfriend. The boy was whimpering like crazy, whining with you as he made you roll your hips onto his knee. You are dizzy from his touch, completely at his mercy, enjoying the fact that he could do whatever he desires with your body — all of them. You must be fucked in the head, already leaking onto his jeans but as your head rolls to the side, your eyes open. The guys are chewing on their lips, Hyunjin already palming himself slightly to relief some tension, even Jeongin now couldn’t help but glance at you.

Changbin tsks, just as Han starts to again lick at your neck. “Who said you could go first?” He says, raising up to his feet. He looks so good like this, eyes staring at you from above and the way his shirt clinged onto his chest and arms, made your pussy clench around nothing.

The boy for a second pulls away from you, only pressing his face onto your collarbones. “Who said I couldn’t?” He fires back, pulling himself up to his knees to look at you, still holding your hands over your head.

You glance back at the other who now leans over you, caging you to the couch with one of his hands on the cushion. The way his muscles jump at the stretch, makes your face flush with heat. You, one night once shared your adoration about his muscles with your boyfriend who also has a small thing for them. “You won’t mind us sharing, right?” You open your mouth to say your answer but a chocked cough echoes in the room, making you all look to that direction.

“Before we do anything, we should probably talk about safe words first.” Says Chan, like the good leader he is but you could see the way his face is deeply flushed even from here. “What’s your safe word, babygirl?”

You visible shiver at the nickname and his voice that dropped in tone. Hands come to you thighs caressing you, for a moment you forgot to answer, looking down and seeing two sets of hands at each one of your legs. “The traffic light…” Your voice is almost too quiet because how can you talk when two beautiful men are touching your sensitive thighs? You hope that none of the comes across that one sensitive spot…

“Use it if you need it, we can stop anytime you want…you understand?” You nearly again missed his question, watching Han as he kisses the inside of your right knee while Changbin’s hand travels teasingly up and down your leg. You, for a second meet Minho’s eyes from behind Han’s head.

“Yes…” You whimper, biting your bottom lip at the embarrassing sound, closing your eyes. A thumb touches your lip before you could bite at it even more, making you look into the dark eyes of the man. Changbin experimentally, after you release your lip from the cages of your teeth, trails his thumb over the inside of your mouth. If you had a mirror, you’d be blushing at your already messy state, lifting your hand to take the thumb inside your mouth.

“Tell me the words.” Orders the leader, voice cracking at the end, like in a groan. The hands around your wrists loosen, but you still had them there, hearing a small ’good girl’ from the corner of the room. Next you feel kisses on your knee again, watching as Han slowly makes his way lower and lower while making an so intense eye contact that you almost whimper again.

The thumb in your mouth goes deeper, pressing on your tongue, you could feel the saltiness of his skin or was it your pathetic tears you were tasting? Changbin’s eyes are peaking at you from behind his disheveled hair, chest heaving up and down wildly. You at the moment remembered that you still have to answer as the kisses aren’t traveling far enough for you nor the boy who isn’t touching you no more. “Green for keep going, y-yellow to slow down–“ You squeal slightly when Han touches you with his hand right where your thigh meets your pubic bone. No way he already found it. “–and red to stop.” You finish, eyes wide at those watching you from beneath. You don’t like the smirk on his face.

“Good girl.”

You gasp around the thumb in your mouth, drooling slightly. “Careful sweetheart, Channie here has a daddy kink.”

“I do not!” Defends Chan himself by the remark made by Minho. You however feel your pussy thighten around nothing for some reason at this small information. You have seen a video of Chan calling himself daddy as a joke but you don’t think he was joking at all. And you can’t say that he didn’t look like one.

“What’s your color, sweetheart?” Says Changbin, ignoring the bickering as the prettiest girl is right under him.

You look up at him, eyes glassy. How is this even a question? “Green.” You say, voice mumbled by his thumb pressing down on your tongue. The two men smile at your words and finally Changbin switches his thumb with his own tongue.

You groan at his taste and you couldn’t help but to pull your hands from behind your head to run through his curls. The skirt of your babydoll is lifted up to your soft tummy, fingers traveling over your skin while you make out with another of your boyfriend’s friends. A loud gasp comes from your mouth, pulling away from Changbin as you feel Han sucking right at your spot. Your hips jump wildly, in shock from how one of your sensitive spots is so roughly stimulated. It tickles slightly and Han couldn’t help but laugh at how much you are sensitive there. He didn’t expect that it would be that much. His laugh vibrates on your skin, it is so embarrassing how wet you are getting, you could feel your wetness pooling under you. “Sensitive there, huh?” Joins Changbin, mumbling the words against your gaping mouth.

The way Han’s fingers are pressing tightly on your hips, trying to keep them from moving while basically making out with your sweet spot is almost enough to make you cum. His mouth is so close to your pussy, basically feeling it on you from how his saliva mixes with your arousal and damping even more the lace of your underwear. When he suddenly bites down on the spot, his teeth dangerously tugging at the edge of your panties you whine out. “Please!”

Changbin looks at you with mock confusion, Minho peaking from behind the other and cooing at your words. “You have to ask for what you want, pretty or nothing.” His eyes go to the strap of your outfit that slides down your shoulder and he couldn’t help but marvel over your tits.

You bang your head down on the couch, hips raising desperately as Han only bites you more at your desperate movements. There definitely is going to be a spot after but you didn’t talk about marking, so you won’t say anything against it. “Please…” You try again, eyes filling with small tears. You feel so little at the thought of begging in this room filled with men waiting for their own turn to fuck you. You raise your head to look down at Han who for a second stops his sucking at your sensitive skin. “-need your mouth.”

“Where?” He smirks, making you whine, head rolling away to possible hide from the watchful eyes. Changbin doesn’t like your lack of answer as well as his companion, grabbing you roughly by the chin to make you look back at him.

“I thought you would be good to us.”

“I am!”

“No…” He says, clicking his tongue, other hand traveling down to the bottom of your skirt, only pulling it up more. “Be good and tell us what you want.”

You close your eyes for a moment but your self respect already left the room minutes ago, the moment they saw you. “Please, Han-“ The man looks at you in expectation. “Eat my pussy, please, I need you so bad.”

He groans at your words, eyes rolling back and pulling at the material of your underwear in hurry. The hand on your chin maneuvers you to its owner, his tongue fucking your mouth messily. You raise your hips, helping the other to remove the necessary piece of clothing. As the cold air hit your folds, you realize that you’re exposed to someone completely new but however before you could completely cross your legs, Han manhandles you, making your hips momentarily lift from the couch. You yelp as he lifts your bottom half before bending it so your legs are up, your whole pussy on display for the whole room.

His hands hold your legs up by the bottom of your thighs and your mind goes completely blank as his wet, hot tongue laps a straight, long line through your folds. Gasping out, your hand grasps the shoulder of his friend who pulls away from you to have a look at how much of a mess you are. Han eats you out like starved, saliva everywhere, tongue lazily licking you all up and juices dripping down your legs. You whine, whimper, noises so filthy that they made you embarrassed but your reaction only made the boy go faster, eyes shining with his own tears of pleasure.

Minho as everyone else couldn’t help but to stare at you with longing. His friend is so lucky, pussy as pretty as your pleasured face and the sounds? He has to lean over the body of his friend who is now sucking at your cute, little clit to have a better look. His body presses against his, hand running up his back and to the the back of his neck, before it pulls at his head. Han face is completely red, face completely covered in you and the only thing he could smell are your sweet juices. “Don’t be selfish, Hannie…tell us how she tastes.” The second oldest says, hand still at his hair, making his head fall back in delight.

“So fucking good, hyung.” He says, grinning wildly at his friend. “You have to taste her…”

Minho humms at his words, before shocking you as he swipes his finger on Han’s lips before putting into his mouth. You curse silently at the sight but it still reaches his ears, making him smirk down at you both. “Hmm, you are right—she does taste so fucking good–“ He groans, tilting his head at you. “Wonder what her own mouth can do…Changbin, would you mind testing for us?” He smacks his lips again at your tangy taste.

Your eyes travel to the named man who plays with your bottom lip. “How is she with her mouth, Yongbok?”

Everyone turns to him, you also. Felix wakes up from his trance as his friends and girlfriend look at him suddenly. You wanted to ask him if he is all good but deep down you just know — know that he is getting off to this. “What?” He asks, voice tiny, Seungmin and Hyunjin snicker at his reaction.

“Is she good with her mouth?”

Looking at his best friend he glances back at you, giving you a small smile. “The best.” The blonde says proudly, making you flush as all of them answer in series of sighs, ‘aaaa’ and ‘ohhh’.

Changbin turns back at you, slowly standing up and to your delight his crotch perfectly hovered over your face. “Want you…” You say, words falling from mind out of your mouth before you could think them over. Your words seem to surprise him for moment as well as your hands on his upper thighs, nails piercing the material of his black jeans. The look on his face told you that he has zero patience left in him and same goes for you, pulling his tight shirt up his stomach. Your mouth waters at his soft yet defined tummy, fingers helping him unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants.

His cock hits your chin before you could even take a good look at him and when you do your mouth opens with no words coming out. He was thicker than your boyfriend and you couldn’t help but imagine how he would feel stretching you out. You however still have in your mind that your boyfriend is perfect for you and you will always stand by it. You moan loudly as Minho suddenly pulls Han’s head back into your pussy, Changbin taking your surprise by shoving his tip into your mouth.

He tasted sweet, tip so thick and flushed that it almost looked like it hurts but you are already swallowing it all down. He groans as you took him deeper as well as you could while you are being eaten out. “Fuuck, isn’t she pretty?” The man before you rasps out, head rolling back as your tongue flicker over the prominent vein on his dick.

“The prettiest.”

You don’t even know who said that as you are pretty occupied at the moment. You choke around him as you take him deeper into your mouth, drool already rolling down your chin. The whole room was filled with nasty, wet sounds of your cunt and your mouth trying to take down the biggest dick you probably had. Han doesn’t seem to want to breathe, you don’t wonder why Minho has his fingers still in his hair, pulling his head up to let him take a breath while it only edges you further. You think you were close almost three times so far and the way Minho who quickly picked up on your expressions of frustration did it only to tease you more, makes you want to cry. He is evil but he knows, it will only make you cum harder.

You moan around the cock in your mouth, slurping it all up as it hits the back of your throat. Gagging, Changbin pulls you away to let you breathe, gulping in air but it is hard as the mouth on your pussy only licks more into you. Han pulls away slightly to stretch your lips apart by his fingers before sticking his whole tongue inside your tight hole. You almost scream at the feeling, you have never been fucked by someone’s tongue this way and it set the inside of your tummy on fire. “I cuuuming—“ You whine out, eyes squeezing shut, legs shaking wildly, still being held up. It hurt so bad but also so good…

“So soon?” Teases the cat like man, already seeing how he would make his friend pull away from you. It made you cry out.

“Please, let me cum—I’ve been good!”

Minho who wasn’t even doing much to you seems to be the one controlling your whole body. “Don’t ask me.” He surprises you, making you look at him just as he gestures to the man eating your pussy.

You feel yourself hanging right on the edge, hand caresses the side of your head, making it tilt to the direction for everyone to see. “Please, Hannie, I’m so close, let me cum, please, please–“ He doesn’t answer too busy fucking his tongue inside your hole and you are thankful as you are almost tasting your sweet release. When his thumb circle your puffy, red clit you immediately fall apart on his tongue, hand shooting to grab at his hair, right on top his friend’s.

You see black spots behind your eyes that roll back inside your head, body arching off the couch. Even after cumming Han doesn’t stop, only going harder and after already three orgasms in one day, it makes your whole body shake. “No more!” You plead, surprising yourself by pulling him away from you, clit twitching even after not being touched anymore. Both of you try to catch your breath from your earth shattering orgasm. Curses after curses flying out of everyone’s mouth because of how amazing you just looked cumming. Your boyfriend is so lucky to have a girl like you.

Your eyes open again, sticking together a little by your mascara running down your cheeks and you at the moment realize you still had big, now leaking cock before your face. You don’t know if it was the orgasm but something made you want even more. You want to taste everyone. Know how each one of them fucks and looks while cumming only for you. You surprise the man before you with pulling him by his hips to swallow his whole cock. He gasps in pleasure and amazement at you taking his whole cock down your throat, thank god your throat was already used enough for you to do that.

“Fuck, I need to fuck you.” Moans Han, you in response humming around his friend’s cock. Your hand grabs Changbin’s, him letting you lace it though your hair and you completely still at that.

“You want me to fuck your mouth?” You nod but that wasn’t enough for him.

Your eyes flicker to Han who pulls down his t-shirt over his head, for a second looking dumbly at his slim waist and defined muscles while a string of saliva connects you to Changbin. “Fuck my mouth.” You repeat as the other pulls down his pants slightly before stopping.

“Does anybody have a condom?”

“No!” You answer too quickly, everyone looking at you with wide eyes. You don’t usually let anyone go raw, even before meeting your amazing boyfriend you have never let anyone but you trusted them and you even think that some maybe have also never done it. Sex or going raw? Probably both. “We don’t have to…” You try to reason a little, meeting the eyes of your boyfriend who looked anything but against it. Gosh, he is so dirty, it’s sinful…

“Fuck, you are going to let me fuck you raw?” Asks Han who rubs the skin of your thighs, warming them up with his touch. His eyes are wide in excitement, pants low enough to make you get a glimpse of the base of his cock, small hairs on his pubic bone. You nod with a small smile, making him pull his dick out and as his whole body, he is beautiful. Long enough to hit the most sensitive spots and curved perfectly at the tip.

“Do your hear that Felix? You gonna let him fuck your girlfriend raw?” Spoke up Seungmin, eyes wild just as his blonde hair.

“Whatever my baby wants.”

You whimper at his words, eyes looking into his before you feel the tip of Han’s cock entering you as well as Changbin raising your head to take him again in your mouth. “Color?” Asks the man between your legs, skin glistening under the light.

“Green.” You murmur around the cock in your mouth and he at that pushes himself inside you fully. If he didn’t hear you and Felix fucking or if didn’t eat you out like starved, he might have preped you a little but you are a big girl. You’re going to take it all.

Your ears ring, completely deaf and oblivious of your loud moans of pleasure as Han snaps his hips into yours. The way the hair at the top of his cock grinds over your used clit, makes you only gush more around him. You could feel every vein on him, tip kissing just at you cervix while you try so desperately to keep up with the other cock in your mouth. You just lay there under them, Changbin using your mouth as he pleases, hissing every time you swallow around him. “You feel so fucking good–holy shit!-“ Han looks and sounds already spend, gasping every time your gummy walls would clench around him. He falls over you, hands balancing himself only by your tits that he grabs at.

“I don’t think I will last–“ He laughs, slightly in embarrassment but you only encourage him by gripping at the hand playing with your sensitive nipple. “Fuck where do you want me?”

You are at that pulled away abruptly from the the cock in your mouth that you feel twitching on your cheek. “Wherever you want…” You rasp out, eyes hooded.

He whimpers quietly only for your ears as others only hear the sound of skin slapping. He looks slightly in panic, not knowing where to cum, it was cute if he wouldn’t be fucking you so hard. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum on your tits-“ You nod in agreement, him straightening his back to pull the top of your bra down, making your tits spill out, nipples hardening even more from the cold air.

His hips shutter, pulling out quickly but some of his cum still lands on your cunt. Changbin lets you shuffle down a little for his friend to completely cover you in his cum. The warm liquid drips over your tits, pooling into your cleavage and it was so lot of it that even he has to gasp at the sight. “Holy fucking–“ He doesn’t let himself finish before lowering his head to take your left nipple into his mouth.

You gasp at his teeth grazing it and at the way how dirty this feels, seeing him suck his release from your skin. To your displeasure he is again pulled away by Minho who makes room for Changbin to grab you by your hips and pull you down the couch, so your whole ass is hanging from the couch. However he holds you tightly in his arms by your hips and before you could talk he slides inside you till he hits your cervix.

You don’t even say anything, only gasping in short breaths at his immediate fast pace. He stretched you out, the slight sting only making you more crazy in the head. Your hands grap roughly at the cushion behind your head, gripping for dear life to try and find some sanity left in you. You could feel him twitching already inside of you because your mouth is too good not to blow right away, he really held himself together till now, just so he could feel you clamping down on him. How are going to take all of them, you don’t know but you just have to — you need it.

“Gonna cum inside, yeah?” He announces, you only grasping at his shirt that keeps riding up his stomach. You can’t help but put your legs around his hips, pulling him closer if that’s even possible and to your surprise you do but it also makes him go deeper. His left hand wraps around your middle while the other grabs your chin to pull you into a kiss.

You both gasp as his hips snap into you so roughly you knock your head into the back of the couch, feeling him empty himself inside of you. The fact his cum is probably now mixing with your boyfriend’s makes you break out in a sob. As he puts your bottom half back on the couch, he pulls out of you slowly, his cum immediately leaking out of you. “Fuck me.” Someone speaks up, your glassy eyes only meeting with Felix’s, hand squeezing his still covered cock.

You catch your breath, well you try to, sitting up next to the guys who almost now sat on top of each other. Your hair sticks to your forehand, making you wipe the substance off when Han already back at least in his boxers tilts his head at you. “But you didn’t say I could…” You are confused, mind still hazy but thankfully there is someone who answers for you.

“She asked you, idiot.” Says Seungmin, walking up to you slowly, making you gulp as he comes to grab your chin. “Your bad, maybe next time buddy.” You hate how you only got more excited by his words, also having a feeling that this definitely isn’t the last time you will let them use you.

Minho gestures for the boy next to him to move, him doing just that as you know are between him and Seungmin. As you calm down your racing heart you realize your tits are out as also your whole bottom half visible for anyone. You bashfully cross your arms, eyes everywhere but the two of them but you only meet eyes with Chan who already has his own on where your hands were. You somehow forgot about the others as you were literally just fucked into the couch.

Soft touch at your arms around your breasts as well as on your crossed legs, makes your body relax a little. You look at your right at Seungmin who held a surprising softness in his eyes. They are all so sweet to you…”Do you want to keep going?” You nod at his words, mirroring the smile on his face. “Color?”

“So fucking green.”

Minho laughs shortly, you turning to him to catch just in time his gorgeous smile. It makes you feel blessed. “Good because we are not going to be so gentle with you.” You wonder how because what happened just a moment was already enough but you couldn’t help but yearn for more.

He doesn’t see any signs of you backing out and he has to say you’re a little slutty for being already horny again, waiting for new people to pleasure your body. Minho leans to lick your bottom lip, you gasping at the contact as your head is pulled back to give room for the other to kiss down your neck. Minho bites your bottom lip, enjoying your little sighs. He keeps doing that and without you even knowing, pulling away your arms from your chest. You only notice it by the cold air hitting your cum covered nipples.

Seungmin blew cold air at your sticky skin, goosebumps appearing on your body before putting his mouth back at the same spot. He sucks at the skin where your neck meets your ear before biting down for the sole purpose to create a hickey. You gasp at his boldness and him using your surprise to trail his hand down to cup your dripping center. Two people on you, pleasuring you with their mouths is a little much but also not enough at the same time. You want them to consume you whole and then spit you out like the slut you are.

Minho pulls away from your mouth, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What do you say Seungmin? Should we bend her over the couch?”

The named man looks at his friend, mockingly thinking. “The slut doesn’t deserve the comfort-“ He looks at you while saying that dirty name but you only look back at him with longing. No one called you that before and in any other situation with someone other than your boyfriend or his friends you wouldn’t like that but you now feel like him calling you that is quite fitting — because you do feel like one.

“You’re quite right.” Smirks the man with red hair, staring at you like you were something filthy to look at. “Get on the floor.” Your mouth hangs open. “Now.”

Slowly and clumsily you let yourself slide down the couch till your knees hit the carpet. You look up from there to the other side of the couch, now closer to you than before. How Hyunjin and Chan are staring down at you, makes you shake with exception because you couldn’t wait for them to have their turn. Your eyes look at the youngest who sits next to Changbin, under his legs the cute boy with puffy cheeks. You are slightly concern as because Jeongin simply doesn’t want to meet your eyes, big hands palming his baggy jeans but you know that if he wouldn’t want to be here, the others would’ve already do something about it.

Your staring is interrupted as someone’s hands push you down on to your hands, pulling your ass immediately back to them. Turning around you of course see the older one needing the flesh of your ass. You watch him pull his shirt between his teeth and you at that feel his cock leakage on your ass cheek. You would do anything to see him right now as well as also his body, knowing about the little scar on his stomach and you feel your heart in someway skip a beat because he is now showing it freely and comfortably.

Your head is turned back around, gasping as Seungmin already pulled himself out of his pants. He was so long and veiny, you wonder how you’re going to take him all into your mouth, already feeling your jaw hurting at the sight. You think back at how they talked about how rough they will be with you and when Minho suddenly slides his whole dick inside of you, you think you’re going to black out by the end of it.

Your whine breaks into groan as the older snaps his hips back before burring himself back inside of you with roughness you have never felt before. Your lips touch the tip of Seungmin’s cock, smearing his precum over your lips, like your own personal brand of lipgloss. Your tongue pokes out to lick away the salty liquid, before rolling out of your mouth to let him grind his tip all over your tongue. He groans at the sight and how your eyes are barely open from his friend’s movements. He really does have the dancer hips.

When you teasingly with the tip of your tongue poke at the underside of his cockhead, he grabbed you by your hair to finally bury himself into your mouth. You don’t even gag anymore, throat completely relaxed for his cock but you can’t say the same about your cunt that keeps clenching around Minho. He bites down hard at the material between his teeth, already soaked in his saliva before letting it fall from his mouth to speak up. “Has anyone ever fucked you here?”

His words are followed by the feeling of his thumb at the rim of your ass, waking you up from your fucked out state. You don’t move for a second, letting his thumb circle over the hole that is already wet from your leaking slick. When you however suddenly feel his thumb breaching the tight rim of muscles, you tap hurriedly at Seungmin’s thigh who pulls you from him by your hair.

Your vision is a bit blurry when looking back at the man who stopped all of his movements. “I-I-“ You try to gulp for air, shaking your head wildly in embarrassment, not meeting anyone’s eyes. A sudden slap rings around the room, you yelping from the harsh sting given by the man behind you.

“W-what, s-sweatheart?” He mocks. He already sees through you. He knows that you’re not feeling uncomfortable or anything as he could feel your wetness drip from where you two are connected.

“I’m prepped!” You exclaim, heat raising all over your body, looking at Felix from beneath your hair. “…I know how much you wanted to try it–“

Everyone gasps in amazement from your confession, the hands on your ass only holding at the meat of it tighter. “Fuck you heard that Yongbok?” Breaths out his hyung, leaning over you, pressing his chest against your back while his thumb is back at your ass. “Would you mind if I fucked her there before you?”

The blonde’s eyes widened, he wants so badly to be the first one but something about seeing his hyung do that made him even harder. “We don’t have lube…” Is the only thing he says, making you gasp. Is this really happening?

“With a leaking cunt like that? He won’t be needing any-“ Snickers Seungmin.

Then you whine in the lost of contact as Minho suddenly pulls himself out of you. “Fuck!” You cry out loudly as his next action knocks you down to your face. He spread your cheeks apart before licking along stripe from your pussy to your ass, circling his muscle there at the rim.

You shove your head into your arms, gasping for air as he ate you out from the back. This position and situation made you feel so little, sobbing into your arms at the foreign stimulation. A finger presses inside of you slightly, the tight muscles rejecting it. “Color?”

You don’t answer because you don’t know how. Do you want to keep going or stop? There really is no between at the moment. The heavy air in the room is quiet other than your small whimpers. You are pulled up to rest on your knees, Minho tilting your head to look at him. “If you don’t want to, you can say no. No one is pressuring you.” His tone is soft both hands resting on your tummy.

“I want to…” You trail off, trying to look away, slightly anxious but he doesn’t let you. You look in to his eyes, you always liked them, they seem to shine like two little pearls. “I’m just nervous, I’ve never done it before.” And there are many things you haven’t done before till now, it kind of seems a lot on your mind but your heart only wants more.

“I will be gentle, I promise.” He kisses you shortly, you melting at this side of him. “You are safe in this room, you can relax, nothing is going to happen to you.”

You become shy at his sweet words and the genuineness in his voice. Your head rolls down his shoulder, hiding in the collar of his shirt. “Okay.”

His next kiss is on your forehead, making you look up at him with big eyes before another one lands on your nose. You can’t help but smile softly, feeling his hands traveling down under the skirt of your babydoll. You are surprised that it is still intact at this point. His rough fingertips graze over your sensitive folds while the other stops at the side of your clit while his lips make a trail of kisses on your shoulder. Your eyes close, body slumping against his as his left hand plays with your clit, careful enough to not put much pressure on it. His other seems to only play with your wetness, scooping it up before he pulls his hand back to only press it at your virgin hole.

You don’t feel your body repulsing this foreign touch, only welcoming it as the finger slowly dips inside of you, you melting at the pleasure from your stimulated bundle of nerves. You hear a small curse behind you, the man mumbling into your skin. “Is she tight, hyung?” Asks Seungmin who now sat on the couch behind you, lazily stroking himself.

“Yeah–“ He groans at your moan as his other finger joins the first. His hand leaves your pussy to fondle your breast and you sigh again relief of finally getting some stimulation there. His thumb and forefinger twist your nipple just right, hips rolling back on his fingers. Every passing moment makes you hungry for more, bouncing yourself slightly on his digits. “That didn’t take long–“ He teases, already back to his cheeky self.

Your hole is left gaping open as he withdraws from you and you are already whining in annoyance, turning around to look at him, only seeing him stand up to his feet. You finally take a small glimpse at his manhood, hanging heavily between his legs. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?” Your eyes widened, glancing at Seungmin who caught your oogling.

He gestures with his hand to come sit on top of him where he lays on the couch. You decided it is far easier just to crawl over to him, knowing your shaky legs would immediately gave up on you. A low hiss comes from Chan’s lips from the beautiful view, he already has a idea about which position he wants you in and he definitely isn’t the only one as the long haired man next to him furrows his eyebrows.

You crawl up the couch, legs on each side of the blonde’s hips, gasping at the way he looks underneath you. You are shoved into his chest by the older, chest pressed against Seungmin’s, his tip just at your entrance. You moan in relief as his long cock enters you, immediately clenching down on him when you again feel fingers at your other hole. The one under you starts to bounce you back and forth on him, every time you would go back it only makes the fingers go deeper inside your ass.

It so good but so much, you have never felt so full till you feel Minho replace his fingers with his cock. “Relax for us, kitty–“ His hand pushes your lower back down, making you arch more for him. Your heart beats so fast you could feel it in your throat.

Cursing your head rolls back as he pushes in slowly, rubbing soft circles on your clit. Seungmin stopped all together to let you get used to being drilled by two cocks at the same time. The stretch is big but thanks to Minho prepping you, it doesn’t hurt as much, only you feel slightly uncomfortable by the fullness. Now you feel full, completely stuffed to the brim as the older buries himself inside you till his pubic bone is flush against your cheeks. The two of them groan as they could feel each other through the thin layer of your insides.

How are you still conscious is a mystery but you couldn’t simply let yourself miss the feeling of them finally moving. Seungmin pushes you down on his cock like his own personal fleshlight, Minho snapping himself back into your tight ass creating a mind blowing rhythm. “Wait isn’t this too much for her?” Gasps out your boyfriend, eyes wide set on where you are being stuffed.

“Is it?” Wonders Seungmin, raising your head from his chest to show everyone your tears of pleasure.

“No! Keep going pleaseee–“ They can’t stop when you’re feeling like this but to your delight they could never possibly stop as this is even for them the most pleasure they have ever felt in their life.

Your breath is knock out of you every time either of them buries themselves in to you and you can’t help your hips from bouncing off their cocks. Seungmin lets you move on your own, biting his lip at the way you sigh into his mouth. Minho also is completely mesmerized by your smooth moves, eyes set on the way your ass recoils on him. You have no clue about how much you have them all wrapped around your little finger.

A drool drips down your chin, wetting Seungmin’s shirt and some even lands on his own lips but your mouth doesn’t hang open for to long as he shoves his two fingers into it. Moan vibrates your tongue that is pressed down by his long fingers. You probably look so messy right now but you don’t care at all as the inside of your tummy is basically on fire. You rarely cum without your clit being stimulate, it always feels weird and you were too scared to let go. You whine out, so close to your peak but yearning for the extra touch. Your eyes open, landing on your boyfriend still in the loveseat. “Lixie, I gonna cuuum–“ You sound desperate and he knows by the tone of your voice that you even by being fucked by two men at the same time, you need something on your precious, puffy, little clit

A hand on your hair, tugging you up, makes you squeal. “Don’t look at him, you slut–“

“–look at us when we are gonna make you cum.” Finishes the man under you, his own voice at edge and you could also feel the one behind you shaking in his nearing orgasm.

Fuck, you can’t take this anymore…you’ve become completely dumb on their cocks. “Please!” They don’t ask what to your surprise because they are themselves right at the edge and also they don’t even need to ask because they just know and then a nasty slap lands on your pussy. The sound echoes through the room, ringing in your ears as you finally fall apart.

The first one to cum after you is Minho, already edging himself multiple of times but nobody has to know that. Your tight hole is just as good as your gushing cunt. He cums into you, not even asking for permission because he just knows that’s what you want the most. Soon after that is Seungmin the one cumming, small cry leaving him as his legs slightly shake when he raises his hips into you.

You three stay there, totally spend and you can’t help the drunk, smile falling over your bitten lips. The older pull his softening cock out of you cursing as his release mixes with his friend’s who’s cock hangs down against your pussy. The fingers in your hanging open mouth also leaves you, only to travel down your body to scoop up the mixes of your releases and put them back into your mouth. “We don’t want to waste anything, do we?” He smirks, only to moan with you as you suck on his fingers, making him pull you down to kiss you.

“Holy shit.” Is whispered, your eyes falling to Jeongin who quickly looks away from your sinful state.

The two men push themselves away from you, falling to the floor with their cocks still hanging out. You on the other hand fall face first into the couch, body completely filled with ecstasy. You could feel Minho’s cum falling down to your other hole, squeezing your legs together to possibly safe the already ruined cushion. The one thing which safes the material a little are fingers, the touch making you turn your head.

Your face forms into wanting as you meet Hyunjin’s eyes, painted softly with some eyeliner, making him even more beautiful. His long hair hangs over his eyes, pink, full lips licking away the substance on his fingers. You moan at that, clenching around nothing. The was so erotic, even Han is sighing in delight. “You look so good…” You flush under his burning stare, completely mesmerized by his beauty.

He looks at you like something out off this word, falling to his knees to take your head into his hands. “I wish to paint you like this.” If it’s even possible anymore, you become even more shy under his gaze. “But right now I only want to taste you–“

You gasp again, like the hundredth time in this day. You are suddenly rolled over onto your back, him pulling you down the couch so he could kneel before your cunt. You are surprised by his strength slightly but looking at his arms, you realize where he gets it from. You’re shocked that he wants to eat you out. Guys normally would be disgusted by the sight of someone else’s cum not to mention licking it all up after. Hyunjin however sees something so beautiful about this, you, a symbol of pleasure and being painted by someone’s else immense pleasure that only you are capable of giving.

He looks so pretty, it makes you shy about being so closely inspected by him. His eyes flicker to yours, glancing at you from beneath his eyelashes. He holds the eye contact even when licking a long stripe up your pussy. You are so sensitive there that you feel like you’re cumming again, legs shaking around his head. When you with using all of your last sanity look at others, you moan at their faces of shock and arousal.

You whimper, thinking and now seeing how they are all so comfortable together, it makes you feel safe. Felix is too but you could feel small jealousy radiating from him as he is glaring at his best friend devouring your pussy. The funny thing is that seeing Hyunjin being so invested in your scent, makes him twitch more. You must say you’re impressed that he is still clothed, though both hands squeezing himself to relief some of the tension.

“Come here, Innie–“ Says the long haired man, pulling from you for just a second before pushing his whole nose into you back again. If you thought Han was messy you are now proved wrong. Maybe it is becomes of waiting for so long for his own turn with you but the way you and his friends’ cum taste together makes his cock push painfully against his pants.

Jeongin jumps almost at the sound of his name, wide eyed. You watch him with your hooded eyes how he stands up with a shaky breath, stalking slowly to you. Does he not want you? You think it is perfectly fine if not but you still feel a small stab in your heart. Your hand shoots out to grab Hyunjin’s hair and making your wetness smear all over his face. He only moans in delight at the tug, sucking and slurping you all up.

Frowning, your head rolls to the side where the other sits down. His hands keep playing with the denim on his thighs, face flushed deep red. “What’s wrong?“ You asked quietly, he looks at you, jumping from your voice. You can’t make out his expression clearly but his eyes seem to keep glancing down when suddenly the man under you pulls away.

“Need your fingers–“ Whines out Hyunjin, smacking his lips and licking at them to get every last drop of you.

The words are meant for the quiet guy with ginger hair. He looks spooked slightly at his friend’s request but shuffles down nonetheless. The older of the bunch pulls his own fingers to your cunt but eyes are set dead on his close friend who almost drools at the sight.

“Watch.”

And the younger does exactly that for the first time in the now evening, stares at your body and at Hyunjin’s middle and ringfinger disappearing inside you. You mewl in oversensitivity, putting your manicured nails in your mouth and biting down on them. He moves his fingers slowly but still it is delicious, your stretched out cunt clamping on them as they reach the deepest parts of you. “Juuust like this–“ He exclaims, glancing at you before looking back at Jeongin who watches closely. “You want to make her fall apart, right?”

He at that glances at your face before stopping momentarily on your tits, nodding. He is pulled away from his racing thoughts when his friend grabs his hand. “Your turn…” Jeongin breathes out shakily, nodding away as Hyunjin pulls his hand to your hole.

You are not blind, you obviously have seen how long his fingers are. So slim and pretty, with veins and rings decorating them. When he finally touches you, he can’t help but let his lips part at how soft and wet you are. Circling your entrance, his friend couldn’t take it anymore for both of your sakes, wrapping his hand around his friend’s to make his fingers fill you up. Both of you gasp, you from you much longer they truly are and him at how your gummy walls sucked him right in.

They both let you get used to them before it is again Hyunjin who makes the next move. “Move your fingers like this…that’s right, back and forth–“ You can’t even imagine how long his cock must be when only his fingers are already kissing at your cervix. “–scissor them…” Jeongin’s eyes keep glancing between you and his friend’s fingers who held them up in the air for him to see what to do. He does a good job, he thinks, seeing your hooded eyes as he scissors his long fingers like said. “–to stretch her out….not like she needs it–“ Laughs Hyunjin as you only whimper in embarrassment. “–then you’re gonna curl them–“ A loud moan leaves you as Jeongin’s does that, legs shaking, feet digging into the couch. “…till you find her spot.”

The coppery blonde doesn’t take his eyes from where he is fucking you with his fingers. He hits the gummy spot dead on, pressing into it slightly, the older helping him to move his hand back and forth. “Faster–“ Hyunjin’s gasp mixes with yours, griping his friend’s hand tightly. “–don’t move the tips of your fingers away from the spot.” He orders, the younger one nodding.

Now on his own, he slides closer to you, face almost touching your pussy from how close he is. It makes your stomach flip from the way his big eyes, almost innocently watch how your juices are being pushed back inside of you. “I said faster.” Warns the other, not liking how Jeongin seem to go easy on you.

“I-I don’t want to hurt her…” Finally speaks up the youngest, voice small and fingers momentarily stilling in you.

Hyunjin scoffs. “She literally had two cocks rearranging her guts, there’s no way you could hurt her and she seems to only wait for you to go faster–“ His hand grasps his wrist, hold tight. “–so go fucking faster.” He growls, taking his surprise to pick up the pace of his fingers.

Your right leg falls from the couch, thankfully the older one catching it, wrapping it around his shoulder because you become a moaning mess. You don’t even think Hyunjin is now controlling the movements, his hand loosening around the other’s wrist. Jeongin surprises you by curling his fingers even more, pace so brutally fast that your wetness lands on his black shirt. The painter only gives you more pleasure when his free hand presses onto your lower stomach with a shit eating grin. You can’t help but to glance down at Jeongin who licks his lips at your intoxicating smell, his head on the inside of your thigh, nose almost touching your clit.

You keep gasping for air, feeling too much of everything right now. You don’t know what to do with your trembling body as his pace doesn’t seem to quiver even a little bit. He held his fingers curled, hooking into your spot as he suddenly only pushes there. He doesn’t even move them out of you, pushing nearly painfully into your spot. The palm on your tummy presses down more and you think you could feel the fingers in your throat. “Wait! It feels weird!–“ Something completely new starts to bubble inside you, uncontrollably shaking as you try to keep yourself up.

“Let it happened.”

You can’t fight it, so you do exactly that. For a moment you only see black before a wave of sheer pleasure washes over you that seems never stopping. In horror you watch yourself squirt all over Jeongin’s fingers, face and upper body, soaking even Hyunjin in it. You try to stop but you simply couldn’t. It was too good and you literally had no control over your body. Your juices squirt out of you again, leaking out with the mixed cum that was till now drilled deep inside of you. “Fuck stop!” You scream, tugging at your own hair.

The older has to shove the younger away from your squirting pussy. “Holy fuck, I knew it–“ Says Hyunjin to himself, hand around his friend’s shoulder while looking at your slowly calming down body. Jeongin can’t help but marvel over his own hand, tongue already licking off your wetness from his face. You feel like on cloud nine, you can’t even imagine how that must have looked to them. Crossing your legs, you try to sit up on your elbows.

Felix couldn’t believe what just happened as well as others, the raging jealousy however slowly dies down as he realizes something while you’re tugged down the couch by his best friend. Yes, he is mad that he was not the one to fuck your ass first and also never making you nor seeing you orgasm like that before but can he truly be mad? His friends showed him a new side of you and they only brought you pleasure so far, so there’s that.

“I can’t–“ You gasp, as you are placed between the legs of the sitting singer.

“You know what to say if you need us to stop.” Says Hyunjin into your ear, placing himself behind you. You shut up at that making him chuckle evily. “What a whore, don’t you agree, Jeongin?”

The named boy who has you on your knees before him looks challenged, not knowing what to answer. “Don’t act innocent, Innie–“ Spoke up, Minho, making you turn your head back at him, cooing at Han who is curled up to his side. “–you literally can’t keep your eyes off her tits.“

You tilt your head back up to look at him and to your surprise you do catch him staring at your tits that were still out of your bra, covered in slowly drying cum. “You like her tits, huh?” Says Hyunjin, pulling you back to his chest to give the younger a better look at them. “Can’t say I disagree but I thought you would be more of an ass guy…” Jeongin keeps quiet, eyes going now everywhere but you — oh…he is shy. And his friend is only trying to help him loosen up a little and have some fun.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts as hands grabbed a handful of your breast. The man behind you fondles them, thumbs rubbing at your swollen nipples, making you mewl. Hyunjin smashes them together roughly, his cock already pressed between your ass cheeks. God, he felt long and thick, you can’t wait for him to fuck you. You wonder how did your stamina suddenly become so high but the thought of having the most beautiful people fuck you, kept you going. “Can you imagine fucking them?” He can’t help but groan himself at the lewd words.

Jeongin looks away completely, cheeks flaming red. “You already did…” Hyunjin puts his lips to your ear, hot breath fanning over it, making shivers run down your spine. “What do you think baby, might let his dream come true?” Felix can’t help but gasp at the nickname and you also.

The hands on your beast travel down your waist, fingers pressing into the skin. “But let’s get them nice and wet for him first, yeah?” He turns you quickly around at that and your eyes widened at his exposed chest. When did his shirt come off? You’re definitely not complaining, drooling only at the sight of his happy trail that you have seen too many times by his shirt always riding up when he would dance. It is your weakness.

His lips caught your left nipple, sucking at it roughly, him letting his saliva flow free out of his mouth. His teeth nibble at your areola, making you hiss in pain, him soothing it by his fingers rolling over your other nipple. You gasp at the big purple spot left behind when he pulls away to only suck at the other. He does that couple of times to get your buds nicely red and swollen before licking between your tits. Is it really licking? Because he is basically only drooling on your skin. You can’t help but jump as smashes your tits together and only to spit on them. “Fuck, you’re perfect — so fucking perfect.” Hyunjin mumbles, the words running through your whole body. He lets spit drip from his bottom lip, tongue then hanging out and completely covering you in the liquid. You can’t help but look down, whimpering at the blotches, red nipples all glistening and you also realize he slurped all of his friend’s cum off you.

You yelp as he manhandles you, turning you back around, the movements so smooth, your heart skips a beat. “Ask him if he agrees.” You whimper at the rough tug at your nipple, glossy eyes meeting Jeongin’s.

His eyes were dark but still his hands nervously played with his jeans and you couldn’t possible miss the tent in them. “Do you like it?” Hyunjin smacks you across your right ass cheek, telling you to try better. “Do you like my tits, Innie?” Your eyes hazy, looking into his, you suddenly feel something go over you at his all cute state. “I want you to fuck them, Jeongin. Fuck my tits–“ You whimper, your own hands fondling your breast.

You hear a small gasp behind you but your attention is only him as he slowly, barely nods his head. You take that as a sign to unbuckle his jeans but as you almost pull the rough material down, you’re pulled back by your hair, back arching as you feel Hyunjin positioning himself behind you. “Don’t forget about me, now.” He ends his statement by taping his fat tip on your clit. All of this is a dream come true — they are literally all so perfect. You surprise him by pulling him in for a messy kiss, teeth clashing together as he moans at your tongue wrapping around his. His lips were like heaven, so soft and yet sinful.

He puts you back to your place, making your ass flush against his stomach while you come back to your task of removing this offending piece of clothing from Jeongin. His hands grab yours not to stop you but only to help you and you’re happy that he can at least show you just a little that he wants this as much as you. Maybe his heavily rising chest is also a giveaway. Your hips buckle back at the other as he coats his cock in your wetness, your eyes however are at the bare one before you. You thought you might’ve strip him down accidentally of his underwear all together also but oh, he is so dirty for walking around like this — you wonder how his baggy jeans could hide him.

His dick was so fucking pretty. Long and the right girth, clean shaved, tip slightly glistening from the precum and balls heavy, waiting for any sort of relief. Your hands fall to his thighs, squeezing the muscle that jumps as a reaction at your touch. You want him everywhere but now even to you, your breast seems to be the only thing on both of yours minds. You kind of wished for some lube but there’s nothing you couldn’t do with your mouth, making you shuffle to him closer to grab him in your hand.

You went to pump him, only being stop at the feeling of the cock slowly breaching your pussy. You’re thankful for Hyunjin’s thoughtfulness of not going in to hard, giving you space for you to also pleasure his friend. He really doesn’t mind it as he is looking over your shoulder when you pull the tip closer to your mouth. Jeongin’s hand flies immediately to his mouth as you take him halfway, keeping your mouth open for the simple reason of completely covering him in your saliva.

Hyunjin circles his hips into you, keeping a slow pace as you drown his friend in your spit. The liquid travels down Jeongin’s balls, him trying so hard to keep quiet at your moments. His hips though hump the air when you suddenly pull your mouth away from him. “Come closer–“ You gasp, grabbing at his legs. He without a second thought, shuffles closer to the edge while you pull your arms up to grab his hips.

That move makes the other go deeper inside of you, momentarily rolling your hips back at him because it was just too good. Hyunjin’s eyes are already at the sight before him, his own hands coming to lay over yours before traveling them to your tits which he pushes up. With a sharp snap of his, your upper body lands on to the lap of the youngest, the dancer pulling your breast at each side of his cock.

You three moan, you putting in your own strength to smash your breast tighter around Jeongin. You don’t even have to move as the oldest basically got a hold of this whole situation by his thrusts. The sounds are even louder and more lewd by it being right under your nose, watching with glassy eyes at the disappearing and appearing tip between your tits. Thank the fuck, Hyunjin is being the one in control because the way his balls slap at every harsher snap of his hips on your clit, makes your whole body become jello. You let your tongue hang out, occasionally the tip flickering over Jeongin, him jumping at the stimulation. He looks like he could cry, biting at his fingers so much they are basically in his mouth, shaking at the way the still tasted and smelled like you.

Hyunjin puts one his hands on you ass cheek, kneading it between his fingers and the other goes to your jaw, tilting your head back. “Look at you…made for all of us to use–“ You moan, clenching around him, making him hiss. “Look at how our Innie’s enjoying it.” He whispers in your ear, tilting your head back to look at his friend. “He definitely is thinking about your sweet little pussy—how you feel, fuuuuck–“ Whimpering, you glance at him, faces so close you could see the little mole under his eye. “Our sweet, little Innie might not seem like it but he’s the nasty type.” Hyunjin’s thrusts become faster, deeper, the more he speaks. “So fucking nasty—he likes it nasty and wet…let’s make it wet for him, y-yeah?”

You nod, eyes rolling back inside your head as you squeeze your hands tighter. Your own hips start to meet Hyunjin’s trusts, him now completely at your mercy as he nears his end. The hand on your waist pinches you, loud whimper falling from him, legs shaking behind yours as he stuffs you full with his load. A small sighs fly out of him, completely different from what you have heard before, wondering if you could make him release these kinds of noises more often in the possible future.

Pulling out of you, he smacks your ass quickly, encouraging you to hop to your feet and only to land on his friend’s lap. Jeongin looks a little spooked out from the quick series of events, only now seeing the mischief in both of yours eyes. He can’t help but to sigh out at the sight of you on his lap, tits at the level of his eyes. He can’t believe he got to fuck them, a little sad that it stopped right as he was almost at his own peak but nonetheless excited to have more from you.

Your cunt to be exact. Your hips raise to grab his cock, siting down on it so none of the fresh cum could go to waste. Kind of a bad idea as your hips slightly jump back up as he only hits your cervix painfully. You whimper quietly into his shoulder as he sat there under you with mouth hanged open and head over the couch. You bounce slowly on top of him first, just the half of him before you could finally take him whole.

Behind your fucked out state, you frown at the way he is trying so hard to keep quiet. It looked like it hurt, his eyebrows pulled together at the deep concentration of not making a sound. You grasp his hands which till now layed alone by his side, putting them on your tits. That did it for him, finally looking at you. You don’t even think he is realizing that the way he is looking at you makes you all giddy inside. He is staring at your breast like they are the best thing he has ever seen, drooling in his head at the way they look in his own hands.

He cups the underside of your boobs, keeping them freely bouncing in the air from your moves. Moaning you just have to lift the bottom of his shirt slightly to have a look at his lean, toned body. Finally he is seeing how much he makes you feel, making him feel better about his image. But he can’t never tell anyone about the small crush he has on you…

“Y/N…” He calls out to you.

You gasp at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “Innie…” He whimpers, the noise leaving him on accident but you only quicken your movements. That makes him moan more and more before he has to pull your lips to his to silence them as he surprises you by cumming inside of you. His grip is strong, nearly painful but completely unseen as you stare wide eyed at the boy under you, crying at the feeling of your walls milking him dry.

“I’m sorry–“ He mumbles into your hair, cringing at the way his cum leaks out of you and down to his balls.

“Don’t say that I fucking love it.” You say, making him look at you in amazement. He kisses you softly at your words, a small smile falling over his lips and you can’t help but do the same.

You basically had to fight Jeongin to pull out of you. You could already feel his soft cock, hardening again and as much as you would like to give him another go there is still one left…fuck. Maybe you should’ve let the boy cockwarm you because the piercing and intimidating stare makes you want to curl up into a ball. You lay on the couch on your side, eyes skimming the men that already had their go and also your boyfriend, sitting there with glassy eyes of complete arousal, before they stop at the leader. Menspreading into those tight, black jeans of his is making you physical shudder, licking your lips at his toned chest peaking from the sides of his tank top. It should be illegal to look this good while simply sitting. Was your brain completely fucked out of you?

“Do you still want me?” He asks, looking down at your body. “Don’t want to hurt you, doll–“ He is asking for permission, yes but why does he have to use such a nickname, it only makes you want him more, dodging his question completely.

Of course you do, such a stupid question. He sits there waiting for your answer, not trusting himself by going closer to you. You are too pretty for your own good and the beautifully ruined state you’re in makes him absolutely feral. He always thought that it was wrong to even have a small thought about how you looked while getting fucked by Felix. That guy was so fucking lucky and he has to wonder how he bagged you because he would always say some ridiculously awkward pick up lines. Pick up lines he, the leader, gave him but he maybe is forgetting about how dominanting you can get. You just liked being used and pillow princess was sometimes too big of a fun. You can handle way more than you look and you already proved it to him tonight, he just wants to hear it from your own lips.

“I do, please Channie–“ You say, hands gripping the couch. “–come closer.”

He has to calm himself down a little at your sultry voice, not wanting to look like an idiotic schoolboy around his friends. He slowly stands up, jeans wrapping around the obvious bulge in them and stalking to you with hard stare. You would really like to say you’re switch but something about his whole aura makes you feel small and fragile. As Chan stands before you, towering over your quivering body, your eyes drift back to his crotch. Even from the material blocking your view you know he’s huge and you wonder how he could hide it in those tight jeans.

He makes you almost purr as he brushed his fingers through your hair softly, untangling the strands. “Get on my lap…” Your heart skips a beat as he sits down at the corner of the couch. You sit up to climb into his inviting lap but you’re stop with a hand in the air. “Back facing me.” You bit your lip at that.

Turning around you shuffle teasingly back onto his lap as he places his legs on the couch. You cage his legs with your knees, sitting down, your ass right at his bulge. You gasp at the feeling of the rough material grazing over you, pushing yourself down on it, rolling your ass back at him. He stops your movements with his strong grip at your ass. “Who said you could do that?”

You stay silent, frozen. You didn’t expect the nasty smack on your ass. “Ah! I-I am sor-ry?” You say back as another one lands, even harder than the first one.

His hand massages the red skin, marveling over your body. “Good girl.” Chan murmures back at you, showing you that’s exactly what he wanted to hear. “You want my cock, princess?” You nod, slightly ashamed at feeling your pussy dripping, soaking him.

Smack!

“Yes! I want your c-cock…” You clench over nothing, buckling your hips against him. He groans at your words, fingers tapping at your skin to gesture for you to slightly lift yourself up so he could finally release himself.

The thing you feel next makes you shiver. His cock smacks free over your pussy and your eyes can’t help but widen at the heaviness of it. You glance back, mouth open as you look at his massive cock. You don’t think he can possibly fit…The man could see the nerves all over your face, his own slightly red in embarrassment. He takes your expression as a good one but he is also slightly nervous while staring down where you two are the closest.

His cock is hovering over your cunt and both of you could see how deep it will go inside you. You nod your head back at him, giving a sign to go in. Backing up, you in experiment grind down on it, both of you moaning at the feeling. The prominent vein that leads to his mushroom tip, bumbs into your clit. “Fuck, gonna ride me? Gonna ride this cock, babygirl, you’re so fucking soft–“ Chan grabs the base of his cock, helping you sit up.

You cry out at just his tip, pussy lips swallowing it eagerly. He was so fucking thick—you realize that Jeongin was only preparing you for the bigger deal but it still stretched you out. “There, there I know–I knoooow–“ Hissing at the way you clench down at just his tip, he gives you some time to get used to him.

It didn’t take that long, maybe because you are simply too hungry for him. Carefully you move up and down his tip, each move making him go deeper into you. “You’re so big–“ You whimper, your hands on his knees balancing you, trembling.

“Taking me so good…look at that–“ The leader says to himself mostly, eyes barely open but still plastered on the way you swallow him more and more.

You fall over slightly when you finally sit down on his cock. You could feel him poking your tummy, the tension on your cervix deliciously painful. You both try to catch your breath from your walls squeezing down on him, staying there panting in this position for some time. Chan was always so sweet and shy when you would give him a compliment, blushing furiously while he could literally at the same time split you in half with his cock. It made you so mad for some reason so you — oh, you will give it to him good. Or will he?

You do surprise him by immediately pushing your hips up and then back down hard on him. He puffs out air, hands flying to hold your hips. He just leaves them there, too occupied of looking at your jiggling skin and your hole swallowing him. You don’t even know what kind of sounds you are making, the only thing on your mind is him. He can’t help but wonder of the fuck Jeongin didn’t cum immediately from your smooth moves. You were literally made for riding cock. He needed this so fucking bad, the stress of the new comeback basically controlling his whole body is now gone, out of the window. It also was so long since he got such a good pussy like yours, or any at that factor.

He almost forgot about his plan, laying there completely at your mercy. Chan’s mind then fills with imagines of maybe other positions he would like to see you in. So many and he almost cries at the thought of not trying at least one of them. He hopes this really isn’t the last time to get you like this. He in fact enjoys seeing his band members finally loosing up and you don’t seem to be displeasured by being used like a fuckdoll. His imagines the way he would fuck you into the couch, leaving you completely dumb and he just had to sit up, cock still in you and press your face into the cushion.

A long whine leaves you as he presses your face down, holding your hips with his other hand and drilling roughly into you. You sob at the feeling of him in your stomach, he immediately pulling your head to the side. “Col-“

“Green! Fucking green!” You scream, shaking at his thrusts. Looking back at him with your glassy eyes you even make him go harder. “Please…” You say quietly. “Please-“

He leans over you, chest against your back. “What was that?” There was a small cocky tone in his voice.

“Please, make me cum–“ You are already so close but you still need the extra push, even if you are basically gasping for air. “…please, daddy, make me cum.”

“Fuck me…”

He groans, hips jumping at that. He doesn’t miss the lazy smile on your lips that is wiped off by his palm on your clit. “Fucking cum–soak daddy’s cock, baby girl–“ You sob, tears falling down your face when he suddenly moves his palm from side to side, roughly bumping on to your clit.

You don’t even make a sound, mouth hanging open as you squirt all over his cock. He doesn’t stop, only fucking you through it and making a complete mess out of you, just like he wanted. “Just a little longer, baby girl…” You try to keep yourself up but only failing at the rough thrusts, falling face first into headrest of the couch. He pulls his hand away from you but as he is still drilling himself into you. It feels like a never ending orgasm.

Suddenly you feel hand caressing your cheek, eyes glassy, you look up, only to come face to face with your boyfriend. You two share a look, emotions swirling in your eyes but then the leader pull you two out of it by surprising you with wrapping his hand around your throat, making you tilt your head back, seeing him upside down. “Chan, I think it’s already too much for her–“ The next thing that the named man does will be forever imprinted in your mind.

Chan doesn’t let Felix finish his words, scooping up your juices with his fingers before shoving them into your boyfriend’s mouth. The blonde moans around his friend’s fingers in complete shock, finally getting his well deserved taste of you. You gasp, choking around the hand blocking your airways. When Felix sucks down on his fingers that does it for Chan. With last snap of his hips he fills you up to the brim, sighing, groaning, almost hiccuping at the feeling.

He pulls his hand away from your throat only to pull you up to smash your lips to his. “Fuck. you’re amazing…” You whine into him as it only makes him go deeper into you. Your boyfriend pulls his friend’s fingers out of his mouth slowly, looking at the sight before him with big eyes.

The leader slowly realizes the glances you keep stealing at your boyfriend while caressing your body softly, giving you a one last kiss before pushing you up to pull his cock out of you. You whimper at the lost of contact and at the cum falling onto the couch, you definitely need a new one.

Felix is there to caught you in his arms, before you could fall over, slowly lowering your body to lay down. “You did so good, I’m so so so lucky to have you…” He says to you sweetly, you smiling in return but your eyes can’t help but to travel to the obvious stain at his sweatpants.

You look at him with a small teasing smile, him laughing sheepishly before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He whispers to you and you feel like crying of joy at his words, emotions all over the place.

“I love you too.” You croak out, leaning into his touch, completely exhausted.

He immediately rubs at your shoulder, warming up your cold skin, body wet from a mix of spit and cum, making you shiver. “Let me clean you up.” Felix says, before hearing his friends’ shuffling behind him.

“We can do that…” Minho says, looking down at you two and your lovesick faces. His eyes travel down the blonde’s body, nodding. “–while you clean yourself up…or do you also want help with that?”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at that remark, wanting nothing more than to wipe his friend’s smirk off his face. His cheeks are on fire but he probably should get clean first before taking care of you because you will need more that.

That statement stays. All of them took their own turn of wiping any residue of what happened off you and out of you. They even dressed you in some more comfortable clothes, your brand new babydoll basically needing bleach after and your panties mysteriously went missing. You were taken care of, cleaned up, dressed and even fed with food because you were too tired to that on your own. You don’t even know how you end up falling asleep mid bite of the takeout you all ordered but you know you were laying on your boyfriend’s chest while some of his friends layed next to you, cuddling you, the ones who didn’t have any place left for them to do that at least touching you in some sort of way, completely drowning you in their warmness and kindness.

Everything made you closer to them. In some way or another, heightening your friendship into something more stronger and intimate. But you still couldn’t help but wonder…was it really your boyfriend’s birthday or yours after all?

#lee felix x reader #lee felix smut #lee know x reader #felix smut #skz felix #felix x reader #bangchan x reader #changbin x reader #han jisung x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #i.n x reader #seungmin x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #straykids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #lee felix

897 notes · View notes

metranart · 1 month

Text

"Yeah, baby—" his voice was a mix of a snicker and a heady groan, such a sultry tone it made you feel drunk. "Ride my tongue, you, sweet annoying thing," he praised with eyes shut close in concentration and utter enjoyment, "let your hips stutter against my face, like a good girl. Fuck—"

ft. Katsuki Bakugo & Dabi x reader, both thirsty for your attention, both willing to do whatever it takes to have you just for themselves, a complete story with strong overtones of jealousy, sexual frustration and possessiveness.

Bakugou & Dabi X Reader (Shameless smut teaser)

You still remember the day you met Bakugou Katsuki, better known to the world as Dynamight.

You had been deliberating for weeks about leaving the League of Villains, Shigaraki was losing his temper and every day there were more innocent civilians killed and less progress towards their mutual goal. It was no longer the same League you had joined so long ago, All for One had changed it, deformed it and now their goals and yours were different. Same reason why you asked help from Hawks, you and Dabi never believe his change of sides and in the end, you were right. He helped you leave the League.

"You'll be okay, (Y/N)" Hawks promised as he flied you away from the secret lair of the League of villains, "we'll protect you, the information you've given us is vital to be able to stay one step ahead of them," the Winged Hero encouraged when he noticed hesitation still present in your eyes, "don't feel bad, I know it wasn't your intention to betray them... after all, they are your friends," he paused to gauge your expressions and soon added, "... you're doing them a favor by trying to stop them, their path only leads to self-destruction. You'll see, everything will be okay."

Hawks swears to you. The need for you to stand firm in your decision, imperative for the success of his mission. Nevertheless, the blonde still didn't trust you one hundred percent but only time would tell which side you were on. If you were a spy, they would find out, just had to put you under the watchful eye of a competent enough Hero, and that was when you were assigned to him.

Bakugou Katsuki. Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. Already an experienced ProHero after graduating from UA Academy as the best of his class. A full-fledged adult on his way up the charts.

You were welcomed into his penthouse temporarily while another safe house was found for you, he would protect you... and keep a close eye on your every move.

At first it was difficult for both to live together, Bakugou was too open with his opinion about the League. "They are bumps who didn't have the courage to be anything more than villains." And your insistence on defending them always sparked a debate. "They are people rejected by society for being different... you wouldn't know it, since you fit perfectly into the gears of this rotten mechanism."

Bakugou barked his protests at you, even so, you never backed down, always standing firm before his imposing personality. You were a beautiful contradiction, the champagne-haired man had never met someone like you. You tempered and sailed his explosive temperament without fear or intimidation and that had him captivated, perplexed, highlymesmerized. Slowly, earning yourself a special place in his complicated heart, crawling under his skin despite his protests... every day, there was less screaming and more laughter, less fighting and more flirting.

Bakugou Katsuki's bleeding heart had learned to race at dangerous speeds in your presence, and more so, when an accidental, playful romp led to this embarrassing situation: Him on top of you in the living room couch, pinning your petite form under his massive one.

Weeks ago, you’d been quarreling with him no end, and he’d appeared all the less happy to have you as a roommate, like an unwelcome guest. And now here he was, nested between your spread legs, sucking your clit into his mouth and nibbling on it like it was his favorite candy.

Your legs twitched as his mouth worked with expert dexterity and shot pleasure up your spine, arching your back off the couch just for your pussy to meet his face in a blunter smash. Even so, he kept pushing you down on him, like he couldn’t get enough of you. Katsuki Bakugou was greedy, greedier than you ever anticipated. Even greedier than him.

His tongue licked a particularly skillful heart-shaped form over your clit and your thoughts abandoned the memory of that crispy skin and cerulean eyes that insisted on chasing you. Your hands shot down to grab him by his sweaty neck just to end up, scrunching into his hair to pull him hard.

"Yeah, baby—" his voice was a mix of a snicker and a heady groan, such a sultry tone it made you feel drunk. "Ride my tongue, you sweet annoying, thing," he praised with eyes shut close in concentration and utter enjoyment, "let your hips stutter against my face. Fuck— I love it so damn much!"

Bakugou licked and sucked with insatiable hunger. You didn’t even realize you kept smashing your throbbing cunt into his mouth until a hot trail of spit ran down your thighs, down the curve of your ass.

"I, myself, love a messy pus-"

"-Bakugou." Your complaint cut him midsentence, but his playful spank on the side of your ass, startled you.

"What the fuck did I just say, (Y/N)?" he growled into your folds, your pussy twitching in tandem. A moan forcing its way from your throat to become a timid and embarrassed purr.

"I-I mean, Katsuki." He had cornered you to use his first name, after all, he was going to have his mouth on your pussy.

He hummed pleased, and in appreciation, put his whole mouth on you and making a seal with his lips, sucked hard. Your hips twitched and you whimpered, fingers digging into his muscular shoulders.

He gripped your hips a little harder, brought you closer, fingers massaging teasingly into your soft flesh. His tongue flicked wildly against you. The wet, lapping sound ridiculously and unfairly lewd.

He made a pleased, humming growl against you, and the vibrations made you shiver, made your eyes flutter closed.

His mouth sucked in a hurried, excited breath, and then went back down, sloppy and hot and wet and so ready to make you cum. You were awfully close, painfully ready to burst when suddenly he stopped his movements all together like the expert tease that he was.

A slick-stained smirk peeked up at you from between your trembling thighs and his dripping chin, glazed in your juices, got cleaned up on your discarded panties.

“I know, I know.” He sing sang pretending to be apologetic. “Is just that I want us to cum together the first time.” Bakugou chuckled quietly, adoring the way you couldn’t catch your breath, “I’m a romantic like that.”

He was an irremediable asshole, an incompressible tease, the worst kind of human being… and you were loving each little fiber of him, Damn it! He was so infuriating, effectively domesticating you in every possible way.

“You ass,” eventually were able to mutter in a broken, ragged gasp, just managing to make him snicker even louder. Those deep crimson eyes drinking attentively every heave, pant and groan you had in you.

Your eyes fluttering open as you felt him fit himself between your tense thighs again, the thick length of his warm cock a huge distraction as it squeezed its massive girth against your sensitive, recently licked, folds.

“You are the worst, Katsuki,” you meowled aggravated, "using me as a glorified cocksleeve-"

His strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to swallow your complains and grumbles with a savory kiss, allowing only the moaning pleasure to flood the living room, the feel of him through the thick fabric of his jeans, somehow more erotic than having him fully naked.

“I’m going to take care of that pouty mouth of yours,” he warned you between gluttonous kisses, teeth grazing the corner of your mouth before, in all suddenness, lifted you off the couch as if you weighted nothing and started to squeezed himself behind you, until his back was flush against the backrest and your body cuddled in front of him, close to be hanging from the edge of the sofa, if it wasn't for his arm holding you tight against him, strapping you safe to his muscular body.

"Just like that..." he muttered in a quiet grunt, more to himself, "...relax for me, pretty. Let me take care of everything."

“Bak-...Katsuki,” you breathed, correcting yourself before you could call him by his surname again.

He stared down at you from the rim of your shoulder, crimson-red eyes near reverent, and the entire new position crawled chills up your spine.

“Are you comfortable?” the Prohero asked you in a sultry purr and you nodded, dreamily.

Strangely, you were more than comfortable, you felt immensely safe inside his covetous hug, two strong arms claiming you to its owner. The position carving each pectoral and abdominal muscle of Bakugou's body on your back. He kicked down his jeans until pooled at his ankles and then slowly shove your skirt further up until bunched around your waist and pushed your panties down your calves, letting them hang from one ankle, precariously.

"Good, I need you to be comfortable," he stated in an odd, perverted pride, “…I’m quite big.”

You squinted your eyes at him, playful doubt shining on your orbs, and he chuckled. “You’ll see.”

After countless encounters with Bakugou's possessive nature, he had tagged you as his and now, you felt worse than even since you had led him right into a trap... but that wasn't your intention. Apparently, Shigaraki had learned to read you better than you remembered and what was supposed to be a surprise attack turned into a full-blown fight.

"—Where's (Y/N), Deku?" Bakugou yelled at the green-haired Hero when he couldn't find you anywhere.

"She was behind me just now," Deku said but soon realized his mistake. "Dammit!"

ProHeroes and League members were fighting in every corner of the place, it was a real mess but even more disastrous was the fact that you were now cornered by the person you least wanted to see.

“Oi.”

Dabi greeted you, blue flames dancing across his slender fingers like a vivid threat, an amused smirk gracing his lips almost offensively.

“Was it seven months?” those lips pursed, mischievously, at how uncomfortable he was making you. “I must admit, I was almost hoping to see you, all round and heavy, with my child in that cute belly.” You squirmed visibly at the thought, “after all, we used to fuck like rabbits,” he took one step towards you and you took one step away, “so full of disappointments—my little, beautiful traitor."

Shallow breaths contaminated your peace and in a foolish hope you tried to run but he was expecting it, and in an unfortunate turn, you found yourself draped by two strong, scarred arms. Hot breath fanning your ear.

“My memory never does you justice,” his voice shared in a hiss and grunted, jaw tensing, and with practiced composure put the fire down in his fingers. You noticed it.

"I thought you wanted to crisp me to death." Dabi entertained your little outburst with sadistic patience. Circling a loop of blue flames between his fingers to keep you on your toes. "—Don't tell me you actually miss me." You scoffed openly and the flame-user extended a glowing palm for it to blaze in front of your face.

“You can’t just keep burning everyone you don’t like—”

He happily ignored you. The hot glare of his palm smoldered into the bursting blue of his flames as they lit up his fingers, menacingly.

“Says who?” Cerulean eyes spared a glance down at you, with a droll look on his face that put the hair in your arm on end. "Dynamight?"

Your tensed frame hooked the corner of his lips farther up. "Fond of your new boy toy? such a shame," he muttered, looking down on you with a cheeky smirk, "I’m gonna break him."

Those shinning, crazed eyes suddenly took a side-long inspection of your reaction, then hardened ever so slightly to see the poorly hidden condemnation on your face.“Don't fucking tell me ya love him.” He demanded quietly, heavily sarcastic to hide his interested disdain and your silence only made his flames fan harder with a hint of unrequested but very real, jealousy.

“Him or me?" Dabi asked oddly calm, "You ought to solve this... before I do.....”

*READ THE COMPLETE 8000 WORD COMISSION IN MY PATREON. (Includes heavy/possessive/mouthwatering smut and NSFW art from scenes of the fic. Plus, lot of MHA NSFW content in general)

232 notes · View notes

nihilityuniverse · 1 month

Text

𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗕𝗼𝘀𝘀.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Story inspired by Acheron's Lore, Power, and Personality...

ENG is not my First language

I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.

Do NOT Repost

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭'𝐬 𝐒𝐤𝐲

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You drift into sleep, and the chaos begins. Memories swirl around you, fragmented and hazy, flashing too quickly for you to grasp.

Voices echo, overlapping and fading before you can understand them.

"...May the present life shine like gold."

"Further Killing is meaningless."

"...But their death must mean something."

"Death is not the end of life... We will redefine humanity itself."

"...But we all know this world is beyond saving."

"... Despite that, we must become heroes."

You try to focus, but the images shift and blur. Faces you should recognize merge into each other. You hear different voices, yet you are unable to concentrate while the flashing images cross your mind.

A memory flickers: a pink-haired elf in a white dress. This time it's a bit clearer.

You hold her in your arms, blood pouring out of her chest. Her eyes are sad, yet filled with an unspoken warmth. She caresses your cheek, her touch gentle despite her pain. She says something, her lips moving slowly, but the words are lost to you. Then the scene shifts abruptly, the memory distorting.

You find yourself facing a long blue-haired man with piercing blue eyes. He looks at you with intensity, his expression serious. "Y/N, promise me you never forget...-" The memory distorts again, the edges blurring, "...love you."

The images speed up, a kaleidoscope of moments you can't hold on to. They slip through your fingers like sand, leaving only the faintest impressions.

You jolted awake, sitting upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat. Your hand clutched your rapidly beating heart as you gasped for breath. An overwhelming sadness gripped you, manifesting in uncontrollable tears streaming down your face. You let the tears fall freely, unable to stem the tide of emotion.

Confusion clouded your thoughts as fragments of your memories resurfaced, each piece as elusive as mist. You climbed out of bed and paced the room, trying to shake the disorienting sensation. You halted in front of the mirror, compelled to confront your reflection.

Staring back at you were eyes that seemed hollow, devoid of any spark of life, like a puppet's vacant gaze. Your cheeks glistened with the remnants of dried tears, evidence of your inexplicable sorrow.

As you blinked, your reflection shifted.

The reflection showed you with white hair and golden horns. One horn was half-shattered, the broken end dissolving into a sparkling golden mist.

You reached out to touch the mirror, your fingers trembling as they met the cold glass. The reflection stared back with a haunting emptiness that mirrored the void you felt within.

"My MANTIS form? Is this an illusion?" you whispered, barely audible, to yourself.

In the mirror, your reflection stood differently. It wore a white kimono, stained with blood and dirt, its eyes glowing a piercing gold. The reflection seemed more alive than ever, staring back at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"Find me,"

The reflection's voice echoed, soft yet commanding, as it leaned closer to the glass.

"Your end... my origin."

Suddenly, the mirror's surface cracked, spiderwebbing outward from where your reflection's hand had pressed against the glass. Startled, you stepped back, eyes wide with disbelief. The reflection flickered and then returned to your current self, leaving only the shattered fragments of glass to catch and distort your image.

You stared at the broken mirror, your face reflected back in jagged pieces, each shard a fragment of a whole that felt lost to you. The encounter left you shaken, the echo of the reflection's voice lingering in your mind.

You draped your coat over your nightgown, pulling it tightly around yourself, and stepped out into the cold night.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your heels clicked rhythmically against the cobblestone streets, resonating through the stillness of the night. The air was crisp and biting, carrying the faint scent of the sea.

The moon cast a pale glow over the empty streets, its silver light the only illumination as the city slumbered. You wandered aimlessly, unable to shake the unsettling dream that had stirred your memories.

As you rounded a corner, lost in thought, you nearly collided with someone.

"Sorry!..." A blonde traveler exclaimed, trailing off as his eyes met yours. His expression shifted from apology to shock, and he instinctively took a step back.

You sighed, crossing your arms to ward off the chill. "I'm not going to eat you," you said with a hint of sarcasm. "Couldn't sleep either?"

Aether looked alarmed but quickly relaxed, sensing no threat from you. "I had a nightmare..." he admitted, leaving out the detail that the nightmare involved you.

"A nightmare, hm?" you mused, walking past him and stopping at his side. "The more that weighs on your mind, the more your fears turn into dreamscapes."

Aether glanced at you but remained silent. There was something about you that felt familiar, a sense that beneath your icy exterior lay untold stories. Perhaps, he thought, you had a complex history with Zhongli.

"And you?" he ventured.

You didn't answer directly. Instead, you offered, "Walk with me. Let's forget our problems for a while." You began to walk, your pace slow and deliberate.

Aether hesitated for a moment before falling into step beside you. The two of you strolled through the quiet streets of Liyue Harbor, the silence around you amplifying the noise in your minds. The city's usual bustle was absent, replaced by a serene, almost eerie stillness.

"What a quiet night..." you murmured, your voice soft in the tranquil air. "They say the quieter things are around you, the louder they are in your head. It's true, isn't it?"

You didn't look back at Aether, but you could feel his presence beside you, a silent companion in this nocturnal journey. He nodded in agreement, the sound barely audible.

You halted at the edge of the harbor, where the cold sea breeze caressed your face, carrying with it the scent of salt and the distant, rhythmic murmur of waves.

You clutched your coat tighter around your body, the thin nightgown beneath providing little warmth. The soft rustling of the ocean's surface reminded you of him, a memory as elusive as the shifting tides.

The traveler, Aether, watched you quietly. The moonlight reflecting off the water cast a gentle glow on your face, accentuating your mysterious allure.

To him, you were an enigma. His only encounter with you had been during that tense moment with Zhongli, where you had seemed intimidating. Yet now, in this peaceful setting, you appeared more contemplative and perhaps even kind. He realized he knew almost nothing about you, not even your name.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice curious but respectful.

You turned to meet his gaze, but before you could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted the moment.

"Oh? Out for a midnight stroll, are we?"

Childe's voice cut through the night, dripping with suspicion. He approached, eyes narrowed at you.

"Up to no good, perhaps?" His tone was accusatory, a familiar annoyance that you felt in your bones.

You barely knew him, only having seen him briefly at the funeral, yet he seemed to harbor a baseless animosity towards you.

"We're just walking," you replied coolly, meeting his gaze with a calm, unyielding stare. "Neither of us could sleep. There's no need for your baseless accusations."

Aether turned to Childe, sensing the tension. "Childe? What are you doing here?"

Childe's expression shifted slightly as he acknowledged Aether. "Ah, the famous traveler," he remarked, his voice tinged with a mock cheerfulness. "I see you've found your way to her." He glanced back at you with a passive-aggressive look, a mix of irritation and something unreadable.

Aether glanced at you, seeking an explanation, then back at Childe, expecting answers.

"She hasn't told you?" Childe raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on his lips. "She's quite infamous among us, actually," he began, his tone laced with amusement.

"Us... Are you one of the Harbingers?" Aether's eyes widened, his body tensing.

The quiet harbor was momentarily disrupted by the rippling tension between you and Childe.

You crossed your arms, your gaze steely. "Childe," your voice was sharp, cutting through the crisp night air like a blade. "Her Royal Majesty sent a personal letter apologizing for your... behavior. I strongly advise you to keep your mouth shut."

Childe's smile widened, a spark of excitement dancing in his eyes. "Or what? You wanna to fight?" He stepped closer, eager for confrontation.

Aether glanced nervously between you and Childe, feeling the intensity of the moment.

Then, in an instant, a Hydro dagger materialized in Childe's hand. With a wild laugh, he lunged at you, his speed blurring as he closed the distance.

The blade aimed for your throat with lethal precision, but before it could touch you, your hand shot up, clamping around his wrist with an iron grip.

In the blink of an eye, you delivered a flurry of punches to his face, each strike landing with brutal efficiency. The world seemed to slow down as you pounded him with lightning-fast blows.

As he reeled from the onslaught, you released his wrist, spinning gracefully before delivering a powerful kick to his abdomen. The impact sent Childe flying, crashing through the air and landing hard against a row of trash cans with a thunderous clatter.

The entire sequence happened in a mere heartbeat. The force of your actions left Aether stunned, the air thick with the intensity of the moment.

He stood in stunned disbelief. One moment, Childe had lunged at you, and in the next, he was sprawled across a pile of trash cans, thoroughly beaten. Had it all happened in the blink of an eye? He turned his gaze to you, realizing with a shiver that you were capable of much more than he had imagined.

"Don't worry, he won't bother us anymore," you said calmly, turning towards Aether, completely composed.

"I doubt he will ever..." Aether muttered, noticing your unruffled demeanor. It was as if the scuffle hadn't even phased you; you weren't even out of breath.

"About your question from before," you continued, meeting his eyes, "I am part of the Fatui and one of the Harbingers. My code-name is Innamorati."

Strangely, Aether didn't feel the usual wariness that came with meeting a Harbinger. Instead, there was a peculiar sense of ease, a feeling that it was better to be on your good side.

"Innamorati... I've never heard that code name before," Aether said, curiosity piqued. "And what about your actual name?"

You sighed, crossing your arms. "You might forget it, so you can call me whatever you like. But my real name is Y/N."

Aether blinked, taken aback. "It's... a beautiful name." He blurted out, then blushed slightly. "I mean... you have the same name as the unknown lady in the story."

You tilted your head, puzzled. "Unknown lady? What story are you talking about?"

Aether suddenly realized his slip. The tale he referred to only mentioned Morax and his two lovers, Guizhong and an unnamed woman, without ever revealing her identity.

"Uh... it's a story about Morax, the Geo Archon, and his two lovers, Guizhong and... um, Y/N, the unknown lady. It also involves Osial being jealous," he explained quickly.

At the mention of Osial, your eyes widened as a memory surfaced, a fragment of a dream featuring a blue-haired man with striking blue eyes. You turned towards the ocean, a sad expression clouding your features.

"Are you alright?" Aether asked, concern evident in his voice.

"It's nothing. I just... have a bad memory. The name Osial... I knew him well... or used to," you murmured. "But I'd rather not talk about it right now."

Aether, both surprised and curious about you, realized it was time to part ways as the night was nearing its end. "If you'd like to hear more about the story, we can meet up tomorrow. And..., good night," he said, a shy smile accompanied by a faint blush on his cheeks.

You were momentarily taken aback, your expression softening. "Thank you."

Then, with a thoughtful pause, you looked him in the eye. "Before you go, may I make a request?" Your tone was serious.

"It may seem strange, perhaps even rude, but I must ask..."

"...Have we met somewhere before?"

The question hung in the air, and Aether's eyes widened in surprise.

After a moment's thought, Aether responded, "Perhaps we have."

A small, knowing chuckle escaped your lips. "My memories often fail me..." you murmured. Stepping closer, you leaned in to whisper in his ear, your breath warm against his skin, "Return safely whence you came... Because a particular Yaksha is following us." You glanced around subtly. "If you feel unsafe, you can follow me."

Aether's eyes widened further, immediately thinking of Xiao. "I'm okay, I know this Yaksha," he whispered back, attempting to reassure you. You gave a slight nod, acknowledging his words.

With a final exchange of goodbyes, you turned and headed back to the hotel Pantalone had reserved entirely for your stay. As you walked away, you remained vigilant, aware of the green-haired Yaksha's presence in the shadows, watching your every move.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Reblog if you like this story

241 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 2 years

Text

pink sapphire

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 11k

glimpse: having jungkook for a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he's easy to love. your relationship's perhaps become so easy that jungkook doesn't think sometimes — and that's what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.

alternatively, you and jungkook married each other for business, but the both of you stay for love.

[ angst, arranged marriage au, fluff n really wholesome scenes (it cancels out the angst i swear), Jungkook Tries Hard (affectionate), miscommunication, jealousy, self-deprecation, sexual innuendos (no actual smut here!!), did i already say that jungkook tries rlly hard and is remorseful the whole time ]

notes: my year-ender fic for 2022 :) thank u for being here — i'm grateful for all ur love n support!! i'll see u in the next one <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook’s a vocal person.

Your husband does not leave a single thought unspoken, sometimes his thinkpieces too impulsive that when he says them in public, you try to play it off by either distancing yourself with him or from him.

“I think the world would be just fine even if all the bees disappear,” Jungkook once said to you with conviction, midway into chewing his cheeseburger. “There’s articles about it proving otherwise but they’re too long for my attention span, but yeah, I don’t think it would be that bad, y’know?” he giggles, looking up at the ceiling in serious thought. “If anything, the Bee Movie taught us that-…”

Jungkook yelps automatically when you pinch his thigh, your hand sternly gripping his knee like both your reputations depended on it (they really did). “Jungkook, we’re literally in a climate change gala right now.”

“I don’t think coffee’s ever that serious. Seriously, world barista championships? New techniques in supposedly making the best cup of coffee when you’re all just gonna shit it ten minutes later? It’s not that deep,” Jungkook once whispered to you in urgency, his annoyance through the roof. He’s glued to your side, intent on whispering all about his irritation.

“Jungkook, I’m begging you,” you wince, screwing your eyes shut and slowly moving the two of you to the far end of the room. “We were literally right next to your uncle whose new wife is the organizer for that very championship you’re shitting on.”

“We need to talk about the tote bag epidemic,” Jungkook once whisper-yelled to you in a rush, holding you by the arm because he just can’t contain his inner thoughts any longer. You’re thankful, sure, that you’re your husband’s go-to person for all of his random thoughts; it’s just that he picks the worst settings to tell them to you.

“They look kinda tacky, everybody deludes themselves that they’re functional even if they have zero pockets, and-…”

“And you just offended atleast three different age groups and all of them are in this café. We need to leave.”

Jungkook’s endearing this way, raw and a tad bit annoying. He’s expressive as much as he’s vocal, his hand slotted on your waist like second nature to him. Being married to him isn’t bad. Sure, the circumstances of your union in the first place were for business anyway, but the both of you understood and agreed at the end of the day. By all means, he’s ideal — ideal until he opens his mouth when he’s sleeping.

If there’s anything that your two years of marriage (and counting) to Jungkook makes you realize, it’s that you should value your peace and sanity more than anything.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

Jungkook groggily asks you with one eye open, conveniently seeing you in the act of hovering around him with an ominous object in your hand. Maybe it’s the sleep in his eyes or the fog in his brain, but when you look at him like this– bothered and passionately frustrated, it makes him love you even more.

“No,” you mutter, the snoring mouth strip in your hands just begging to be put on already. “I’m trying to make you quiet.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

Perhaps it’s the sleep in your eyes or the fog in your brain, but you swear you just saw your husband crack a smirk despite keeping you up multiple nights a week, especially for the past month. He’s not endearing tonight, not at all.

“Isn’t marriage all about accepting each other’s flaws?” Jungkook frowns, about to turn on his side when you put your knee to block him.

“We’re arranged,” you deadpan. “I can’t accept you snoring with bass and reverb every night, Jungkook. I can barely sleep.”

“But didn’t you tell me you like it when I make noises?” Jungkook glares playfully. Bringing up your sex life with him out of the blue almost always does the trick, but it probably won’t work tonight now that you’re only awake and breathing heavily from sheer annoyance. “That you adore me whenever I tell you how much I love it?”

“Jungkook,” you hiss, tempted to flick him on the forehead in his sleep repeatedly so he’ll wake up with a mark. “Will you let me put the snoring strip on you or do we divorce?”

“Divorce,” he sighs out, a pinch instantly placed on his thigh that makes him jolt and squeak anyway. Jungkook whines, correcting himself when your hand hovers his chest this time. “Divorcing is bad!”

“Mhmm. Good night, Kook.”

You vibrate just by the prospect of sleeping peacefully tonight without the walls in the house being shaken up by your husband’s snores, tucking yourself in with an exhale that could last for minutes.

“Mmh-hmm!”

Jungkook could only pathetically whine through the mouth strip, resigning to his fate as he just spoons you from behind and huffs.

“What’s that? You want to wear snoring strips every night?” you chuckle, going to sleep with a smile. “What a nice husband.”

( ♡ )

Every now and then, you and Jungkook have to take a refresher course on each other’s businesses. The both of you know a lot already, constant conversations about which meetings happened where and reminders for events that the other will clear up their schedule for.

There’s already the concern and the general knowledge — it’s just all in the technicalities (even the simplest ones) that the two of you are lacking on.

“Is this a mock neck or a crewneck?” Jungkook holds up a shirt that’s yet to be released, eyebrows raised as if waiting for you to mess up. Come to think of it, you have to know now because his family’s holding company had acquired yet another brand and there’ll be a televised event for it — and some reporters ask the stupidest questions to date. You can’t be the weakest link.

“I wanna say neither,” you clear your throat, biting your bottom lip in confusion. It’s a shirt with a collar and that’s the only thing that matters. You know there’s a name for it and there’s a possibility that the choices Jungkook gave you were all bluffs.

Your answer definitely seems to pique both Jungkook’s interest and amusement, resisting the urge to laugh.

“Elaborate.”

“It’s neither of the two. It’s uhm, in the middle?” you tilt your head, only praying that you could bullshit your explanation to your husband, the very person that created the garment. “It’s an all-new neckline created by Jeon Jungkook because that’s what his label is all about.”

Flattering, but really wrong.

“Cool,” he snickers, nodding to himself before he tosses it for you to catch. “It’s a crewneck though.”

“What? Then why did you make me elaborate?” you complain, scoffing to yourself because you know you should’ve went with that answer. Crewnecks should be easy enough to answer but for some reason (read: you stayed up last night watching new-money elitist reality shows instead of studying), you couldn’t answer.

“To see how good you can run away with your answer, duh.”

“And did I run away with it?”

“You ran away with it for like, four meters,” Jungkook commends you, the distance not all that bad in hindsight, atleast until he opens his mouth again. “There’s a hundred meters in total.”

Trivial things like quiz night on each other’s professions remind you that Jungkook’s nice to be with. Banter flows easily and he’s just so charming that so far, you haven’t deeply regretted a single day out of the two years you’ve been married.

You may not be able to name all the different fabrics, silhouettes, and techniques behind Jungkook’s very own streetwear brand, but you know that he likes being held when he’s asleep; that when he taps your thigh groggily after waking up in the middle of the night, it’s him very kindly asking you to rub circles on his back until he falls asleep.

“Okay, my turn!”

Your glass table almost shakes in excitement when you retrieve your sketches, making your husband all the more nervous because you look genuinely excited and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. He doesn’t have the room for error — your family’s jewelry brand turns 100 years old since the opening of its first shop and the event will be widely attended by everyone from all industries. Who’s to say that your eccentric grandfather won’t suddenly host a quizbee all about their craft?

You flash the paper quickly and your husband sighs in relief, grinning in confidence.

“Emerald cut, easy!”

The confidence is quickly washed out from Jungkook because you snort, putting the paper down.

“It’s an octagon cut.”

“No it’s not,” he immediately retorts in disbelief, squinting at the sketch you’ve set down already.

“I sketched these,” you narrow your eyes. You forgot just how quick Jungkook can keep himself in denial. “Emerald cuts have more depth to them."

He succumbs just as quickly as he turned stubborn though, rolling his eyes with the internal reminder to touch up on his jewelry knowledge because your event comes before his.

“Fine, sue me for thinking your drawings have depth and dynamic to them.”

“You’re buttering me up.”

“Is it working?” Jungkook blinks owlishly, proud of himself when he sees the corner of your lips twitching. He holds his arm out to sling across your waist out of instinct, pleased in pink when you lean into him.

“Barely.”

Jungkook frowns, nosing into your hair with a huff. “Look who’s talking. You made up an all-new neckline by yourself.”

“Shh,” you hum. “Let me get away with it.”

These moments of domesticity are what remind you that Jungkook’s never been less than ideal for you. That despite being in the same social circle as kids and only starting off as friends, you weren’t hesitant when both your grandparents suggested the idea of getting the two of you married.

In trivial and domestic moments like these, you think that you would’ve wanted to marry Jungkook even if you weren’t arranged.

“I let you get away with a lot of things,” he playfully huffs, resting his chin on your shoulder intentionally heavy to get you to cave deeper into his embrace.

“Because I barely wrong you!” you reason, rolling your eyes because you know for a fact that although you’re not a perfect wife, you’re beyond ideal.

“I know,” Jungkook rolls his eyes this time, the truth undeniable. You’re right; you’re so perfect for him that sometimes, he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. “How about me? Will you let me get away with a lot of things?”

“I already have,” you sing-song, narrowing your eyes playfully as if in deep warning. “But I won’t always do.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook first realized that you loved him when he missed a single step on the staircase and tumbled a whole flight.

It was 3 AM then, the reason behind his sudden trip downstairs being the fever you developed overnight when you had just gotten home from a ski trip. He had put a wet towel in the freezer in the afternoon and he was supposed to put it on you before you went to sleep. Jungkook must’ve beat himself up for forgetting because he wakes up with a cold sweat, determined to put that frozen towel on you like his life depended on it.

Jungkook thought he was doing well by the way he could navigate clearly even with the sleep in his system, eyes still half-lidded and brain still half-working that he decides to rip out the largest yawn to man mid-step on the staircase — before he knows it, he’s woken up immediately to the bottom of it.

“Jungkook!” you yelled to him then in a panic, eyes wide and frantic to see him at the bottom of the stairs with a sheepish smile. Jungkook knew then that seeing you with a head-splitting migraine visible on your pale lips and fatigued eyes, scooping him up on your arms with nothing but scolding and fussing on rotation — he knew that you loved him more than you let on.

You know Jungkook loves you. So when the bed dips and your arms grow cold despite swearing up and down that the both of you have a free day today, you doubt for a second.

“What are you doing up so early?” you mutter, stifling a yawn to see Jungkook up without a complaint.

“Breakfast with my parents. My crazy aunt suddenly came over and they need backup,” Jungkook answers with a pained laugh, cussing himself for being such a filial son. “Don’t worry, I know you hate her plus you were up all night yesterday so I just told them you can’t come because you’re under the weather.”

You’re put at ease to hear him, sighing a breath of relief — good, Jungkook still loves you and doesn’t plan to leave you. It’s just an inkling you’ve had the last few weeks, the daunting realization that in a couple months’ time, it’ll be three years of marriage with him.

It’s the impulsive, less rational part of your brain that thinks Jungkook’s growing bored of you, confused of how he’s been perfectly content being your husband for almost three whole years.

You go with Jungkook all the way through downstairs, your playful teasing towards him about never yawning again on the steps giving him more amusement (and embarrassment) than necessary.

“Kook?” you question with a furrow in your brow, pointing at the dish that’s occupied still. “You forgot the car keys.”

“Oh. I’m not taking the car,” he smiles, shrugging to emphasize the jacket that he intentionally wore. You missed the detail somehow, the surprise in your voice more evident.

“You’re taking your motorbike?”

“Mhmm!” Jungkook hums pleasantly, the background music in his brain going from calm elevator music to rising bass rift. He’s just about to bid you goodbye with a kiss after he wears his gloves but he’s stopped even before he could come near. You’ve already read his mind.

Your husband knows it when you put your arms across your chest, nodding towards the cabinet with a tone that leaves no room for counterarguments.

“Go wear your full gear.”

“But the breakfast place isn’t even that far,” Jungkook whines, head tilting back. His gear was literally hot, protecting him from sunlight yet physically making him boil inside.

“I want you in one piece.”

“You want me?” Jungkook cheekily grins, eyebrows wagging incessantly with his arms outstretched. That’s it! If he could just act cuter and be a little more-

“Go wear your gear.”

“I look goofy,” he mutters, eyes downcast. The longer he goes without blinking, the faster he knows that he’s going to stick to your words.

“You look safe,” you smile in success when you put his helmet on, securing it extra tightly that draws a whine from him.

Jungkook frowns but he knows that you’re right as always, a relieved sigh coursing throughout his whole body because who knew where he’d end up without you.

“Ride safe, Jungkook. I mean it. Don’t pull any tricks,” you glare pointedly at him, recounting all of the near misses he had from wanting to be adventurous, be it a trip downstairs to the refrigerator or in the middle of a main thoroughfare.

“I promise not to pull a wheelie on the highway, yes,” Jungkook mockingly salutes you, drawing out a faux disappointed sigh from you.

“You’re forgetting something.”

Was he really? Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion, smacking his lips when he seems to get the gist of it. He walks towards you, puckering his lips to the max because he doesn’t want to headbutt you with a solid helmet for just a smooch, landing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You appreciate it, but Jungkook’s not quite right.

“No, not that.”

“What?” he seems taken aback, suddenly realizing. “Oh!” he giggles, raising up his right hand in a pledge. “I promise to text you when I get there.”

“Good.”

You have to put more strength to drag Jungkook by the helmet, angling your head to the side to kiss so he doesn’t knock you in the forehead with the extremely safe (and extremely bulky) helmet you got him.

Jungkook smiles in contentment, clearing his throat as he revs his engine. It’s all good then. He had become worried in silence because your three years of marriage were approaching and got scared because what if you grew bored of him already?

Jungkook worries that he’ll mess things up with you one day, but with the way he can see you waving at him frantically on his side mirror when he just left, it’s okay.

He knows you still love him.

( ♡ )

Hoseok’s your most talented and trusted metalsmith.

His work ethic’s unparalleled, your vision only coming into fruition through his support and skill. He’s indispensable to you, your place in the direction of your family’s business cemented by Hoseok’s aid.

Hoseok as both an artist and your employee is different from Hoseok as your friend. Both are cunning but the latter is more ruthless, the lines being blurred every now and then. He loves his job, don’t get him twisted at all — in fact, he trusts you as a boss and the company beyond comprehension that he doesn’t bear any tact for anyone who threatens either.

Not even for Jungkook.

“A collab, huh?” Hoseok squints, looking through the portfolio you’ve handed him. There’s already projected numbers that your analysts have predicted for you but he pays the papers no mind. He clicks his tongue, looking up at you with an unreadable expression. “A streetwear brand wants a limited-edition collection with us?”

Jungkook clears his throat, timidly raising his hand. He’s always known that Hoseok’s standoffish to literally everyone except you, but what he can’t take is being talked about like he isn’t in the same room.

“Uhm, I’m Y/N’s husband.”

“Well you’re the owner of that streetwear brand, aren’t you?” Hoseok raises a brow at him, tilting his head. He looks drastically bored, his tongue poking his cheek.

Jungkook blinks, not exactly knowing where this was going but he doesn’t like it one bit. “Yes, but I’m also her husband.”

“Okay?” Hoseok tilts his head, eyes already exhausted from the conversation. You know that look on him, the one that tells you he’s bored to death and is itching to shut up the nearest person to him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Jungkook rarely gets flustered by anyone else besides you and this time, it’s the bad kind. The embarrassment he gets from just conversing with Hoseok makes him feel like he’s an inconvenience, unease settling into his stomach. Jungkook wishes he couldn’t be so perceptive to know that despite Hoseok’s eyes normally being unreadable, his gaze now on his sketches can be read as underwhelmed.

“Well I-I mean, I’m hearing a lot of us and it sounds like you and Y/N, not me and Y/N,” he licks his lips, recognizing the insecurity that sticks to his tone like honey. Not only does he feel insulted as an artist, he also feels insufficient as a husband.

“That is what I’m saying though,” Hoseok trails off, hand vaguely gesturing for Jungkook to fill in the rest of the blanks. When he doesn’t, Hoseok does it for him. “It’s me and Y/N seeing this brand through. Not you and her.”

Jungkook blinks once, twice.

Hoseok isn’t wrong. No matter how much pain it brings Jungkook to admit it, Hoseok isn’t wrong. Your marriage may be for you and him alone, but your company– your artistry is only yours as much as it’s Hoseok’s. He has no place here and he feels it, his initial confidence that the collaboration he proposed was going to pass already dwindling by the millisecond.

“Hoseok’s right,” you cough, breaking their conversation. The tension was already too thick and you’ve barely made it halfway to looking at the entirety of the portfolio. “Reel it in, Jungkook.”

He’s jealous. He’s jealous and he forgot just how pathetic and insufficient one could feel when the green monster of heartburn decides to make an appearance. Jungkook just about doubts everything, from thinking of how your admiration for Hoseok is probably much higher than the admiration you have for him, to thinking if you even benefit from being arranged to him.

Hoseok looks over the designs, noting all the details silently.

“Huh. I see,” he hums, clearing his throat to try and keep all the crass words he has in mind to himself because you’re looking at him intently. “Skulls. Haven’t seen this one before.”

“You sketched this?” Hoseok nods every now and then, holding up the paper that had deep indents of the pencil on the paper to the point that it defeats the concept of a sketch. Your husband nods, and he wishes he hadn’t because Hoseok comments not a second later. “Figures.”

He hums, silently approving here and there of some concepts he could totally get behind. It’s not all rubbish content, but he can’t say that salvageable automatically equates to commendable.

“So? What do you think, Hobi?” you ask when the silence has gone long enough, having noticed that Jungkook already grew too quiet in your corner.

Hoseok calculates in his brain, looking from the portfolio and back to you. He tries not to clench his jaw for the sake of you silently pleading him to mince his words and actions, clasping his hands together.

“Yeah, it’s doable,” he nods, making Jungkook smile despite his ego being a little wounded. He’s bounced back miraculously, profusely thanking Hoseok with an unexplained eagerness to him. Before Jungkook could launch himself to further possibilities though, Hoseok calls for you.

“Y/N? A word, please?”

Jungkook looks back from the door, hesitant doe eyes flitting between the two of you. You don’t know exactly what’s going through his mind but you know better than to project, bidding him goodbye for the timebeing. “It’ll be quick.”

The most commendable trait you can attribute to Hoseok besides being your friend is his passion for your craft. He’s vision-oriented in the sense that he cuts straight to the chase before he could even lose the trail that the sudden burst of fervor leaves him.

“Meridian’s your baby. It’s your grandmother’s grandmother’s baby. It’s coveted. It has meaning,” Hoseok rambles, the sigh leaving him more concerned than it was relieved at being let out. He can’t mince his words now — he can’t put it in any other way besides the truth. “Collaborating with Jungkook cheapens it.”

“Hoseok.”

Your tone edges on a bite, clenching your jaw as you try to take everything in. Hoseok’s been your voice of reason for so long but you don’t know how to accept that voice now, the tinge of guilt slowly staining you because the back of your mind tells you that he isn’t wrong.

Jungkook’s streetwear brand is huge; whether or not you chalk it up to his name being linked to his family’s holding company that’s responsible for other designer brands, your husband’s brand specifically remains larger than life. It’s not a flawless brand, that much you’re sure of, but it’s still of great value.

Just perhaps not of the same degree that Hoseok holds your company to.

“It’s not all bad, but most of his work is dispassionate. It’s typical. Meridian would look cheap if you commit to this fever dream collaboration.”

There’s a rash on your neck, one that’s warm and speaks to your ear of how shitty it must feel to even agree partially to what Hoseok’s saying. Your duties as an artist in the business rarely clash with your courtesies as Jungkook’s wife — today just happens to be one of those days.

“It’s Jungkook’s idea, okay?” you relent, voice low as if in defeat of admission. You don’t mean to belittle him, you just happen to know and listen to reason. “It’s not the best, I know, but it’s honest work. Let’s give him a chance.”

“You’re giving him a chance because he’s your husband, not because you see any potential.”

Hoseok says it without uttering nor a single sense of doubt. He sounds so definite that you don’t even know if he’s still insulting Jungkook or if he’s insulting you at this point, swallowing your words.

There’s truth to your craft but you know there’s an even bigger truth to the unspoken protectiveness you have over Jungkook, the answer sounding seemingly shallow but that’s what it really is — love makes you shallow as much as it makes you deep.

“You’ll know when you’re married.”

“Arranged would be the term for you and Jungkook. Not married,” Hoseok quips. “You’re only holding back your critique. We both know it’s a dead end when it comes to creative direction.”

The both of you leave it at that, the decision being unanimous to collaborate with Jungkook despite your metalsmith’s hesitance. What you say goes, that’s just how hierarchy works.

Unbeknownst to you and Hoseok though, Jungkook’s been listening the whole time — that’s just how love operates sometimes; hidden and relinquished.

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s hurt.

How crude of Hoseok to think of him that way. How worse of you to agree even.

Jungkook’s irrational when he’s hurt, refusing to see reason. He knows at the back of his head that he’s hit a rut and pitching in a collaboration with your brand is his last-ditch attempt in sparking something. Cheap was a word for tackiness and to have your friend use it on him brings him to a new low.

It’s just jewelry. What you make is just jewelry. Just pieces of metal bended and soldered together with shiny gems that don’t possess any real meaning to them besides superficial.

It’s not that deep.

Not that deep to the point that when Hyejoo, his childhood friend turned actress turned fleeting appearance in his life every now and then (whom you hate for some reason), asks him for a favor — Jungkook barely hesitates.

Hyejoo stands before him in a shirt from his brand’s limited collection, one out of the only hundred ever made. If Jungkook recalls correctly, he didn’t even send any items from the limited collection to any of his friends; he left everyone besides you to go fend for themselves.

Perhaps his childhood friend’s truly a fan of his craft, knowing her for her utmost support towards all his releases. To be honest, the two of them aren’t even that close anymore to the point that they’re each other’s first friend to think of in dire circumstances, except now — now when she needs him for a favor.

“But I need a pink ring for the event, Jungkook!” Hyejoo whines, throwing her head back for dramatic effect. Truth be told, she knew no brand that had pink jewelry that was elegant enough for her taste except yours. She’s turned down sponsorships all for a ring you probably keep in your sock drawer. “Yes I can buy from other brands but you’re there, Kook. You’re available and I can borrow from you because your wife has a shit ton.”

Jungkook knows what Hyejoo’s talking about. It’s the one pink ring that you wore on your engagement party with him and it’s become the talk of everyone from how ethereal you looked, the one tiny piece of jewelry tying it all together.

He knows it’s pink and he knows it’s just hidden away in its jewelry box, one that you keep right next to his collection of watches. There was no fancy vault for it either, just tucked next to his timepieces as if they were of the same value.

“Come on, she won’t even notice,” Hyejoo urges him, making him inwardly cringe. She turned up on his front door unannounced asking for a favor and he feels indebted her for the last time she granted him one, the apartment complex that Hyejoo owned becoming the perfect backdrop to his collection that’s still renowned to this day.

Jungkook’s loyal, he knows he is. His loyalties lie with you and he still honors his debt — whether or not you’re caught in the middle. It’s true that you won’t even notice, you don’t even peek at it anyway! For someone who’s a part of a family of jewelers, you rarely accessorize yourself gaudily.

“Fine. I’ll let you borrow,” Jungkook mutters, finally relenting to Hyejoo’s requests. He opens the door wider, on the way to your shared bedroom but looks back hastily at Hyejoo to point a stern finger. “But give it back, okay?”

It takes a great amount of strength for Jungkook to even hand the ring to Hyejoo, not even including the box with her because a) you would know that it was missing, and b) he wants her to wear it at all times until she gives it back the next day. Jungkook takes it personally to flick her wrist to serve as a reminder that he had given it to her already, even going so far to take a picture of the two of them and make her sign on his notes app.

He’s not necessarily betraying you — or so he thinks. It was just jewelry that you wouldn’t miss, same as the shirts that he gives away to his friends. Their retail prices may be lightyears away but you would understand; you always do.

Jungkook gaslights himself into thinking that he did no wrong but the guilt is what slowly gnaws on him, the tips of his fingers going numb every time he looks at you.

Come to think of it, his decision to lend your ring to Hyejoo was out of sheer pettiness even without the assurance that you’ll take notice of it. His hurt over Hoseok’s comment disappeared the moment he handed her your ring, but to his surprise, it’s anxiousness that replaces his irritation.

He kisses you good night still as if today didn’t happen; how his irrationality had gotten the best of him when he got hurt by Hoseok’s remarks over his passion and creativity, and just a few hours later, it’s his impulsiveness and misplaced urge for vindication that lent your unsuspecting ring to his childhood friend.

“Jungkook!” you yell out in panic, urging him awake instantly that his heart beats incessantly despite being pulled out of sleep. You look frantic, the rawness in your eyes not from your lack of sleep, but instead from tears. “Call 911. The Interpol! The CIA! The fucking Blue House!”

“What?! What happened?!”

He’s panicked just as you are, hands shakily clutching his phone. He looks you up and down and inspects you for injuries to which there are none, nothing but overwhelm making your body shake.

Jungkook can’t bear to see you so glum and helpless, your bottom lip trembling as you look at him feeling nothing but pathetic.

“My ring,” you whisper brokenly, the phantom feeling of wearing it making you sob even more. “My ring is gone.”

Jungkook’s mouth dries, the panic in his own body turning against himself, his remorse growing into something larger than life. He could physically see the confusion on your face on the way he paled, his phone dropping out of his hold.

Your husband’s hands reach for you but you don’t take them, recoiling even before he could open his mouth. Jungkook was readable — too readable to the point that you wish he had lied to your face instead.

“I-I can explain.”

Jungkook weakens by the knees when the words drape from the tip of his tongue, your chest sucking in an inhale so sharp that he gets weakened by the force of it. “I lent it to Hyejoo.”

You’re quiet, the type of rage in you simmering ever so slowly that it builds to an immense heat. You don’t know if you can ever muster to look at Jungkook in the eye, your middle finger that knows the grooves of your ring twitching in muscle memory.

“You what?” you croak, tilting your head. You know what you’ve heard but you just wish you’re mistaken this time, cursing your own accuracy. “Who told you that you could do that?”

Jungkook’s cornered in his mind and he spews the first thing in his mind, no matter how stupid it sounded.

“Yours is mine and mine is-…”

“That doesn’t apply here! You’re so fucking-…” you just about burst in the seams, clenching your jaw so hard to the point that you give yourself a headache. You’re resolute this way, the pitiful look on your husband’s face not getting a single drop of remorse from you. “Get it back.”

You wouldn’t have lent it to anyone regardless if Jungkook asked you, but you would have considered at the very least. For him to take something so special to you and loan it to someone you’re not even fond of ticks a wire in your brain, your anger coming before the sadness fully hits.

“Y/N!” he hisses, angry at both the situation and himself but he now thinks of the courtesy that he didn’t possess when Hyejoo borrowed your ring. “I can’t turn back on my word.”

“What? Your word that favors Hyejoo and shits on mine?” you scoff in disbelief, laughing at the mockery Jungkook makes of you. It’s insulting and saddening and you can’t even begin to think of the extensive cleaning and safekeeping you’ll have to do once you get your ring back. “I said, get it back. You’re my husband and you’re just her friend, you have all the means to take my ring back.”

Jungkook turns somber, a stark contrast to your anger. He pleads with you, finally closing the gap between you to which you roll your eyes.

“The event is tonight. She’ll return it tomorrow. Please, it’ll be embarrassing.”

“For you or for her?” you ask but the rage in your voice is already simmering, the daunting thoughts of how Jungkook thinks of his friend’s sake and himself first than his wife making you clench your fists around nothing.

“Y/N, please.”

His incessant begging does little to influence your decision because you’ve already changed your mind, the rage that dipped in you and the fact that your heart’s already aching despite having just woken up converting you instead.

“Tomorrow morning. I want it back in the case before I wake up.”

The two of you sleep apart for the night and Jungkook can’t even bring himself to contest it knowing that he doesn’t deserve to hold you. He simmers in self-loathing, unable to sleep the night when his phone dings from the notifications it has of your name.

Hyejoo’s look on the carpet trends the whole night, the main focus of everyone being the pink ring that adorns her ring finger. There’s threads of speculations how you and her are either best friends or how she must’ve bought it from you. If only he could, Jungkook would reply to each comment saying that Hyejoo doesn’t hold a candle to your elegance and how the ring has always been yours — that it’s his fault that his friend’s even wearing the same piece.

He’s restless and he can’t even begin to think how much more tired you feel. Of your name being brought up and of him royally fucking up.

When Jungkook thinks it couldn’t be worse, karma one-ups him from the very mistake he committed when he entertained Hyejoo’s favor in his mind.

“You’re stupid,” you spit to Hyejoo who stands on your porch, head downturned in shame. She had half the decency to face you personally but lacks the rest to honor her end of the bargain; she lacks the intellect to respect you.

She lost the ring. She lost the pink ring you’ve treasured and cared for since you were a teenager, losing it after a careless and drunk decision of skinny dipping. You feel like you’ve been made a fool not only by your husband, but also by his friend that you don’t care for at all.

The tears fall out of your eyes in anger, each one being in a rush to exit because you’re full of resentment at this point.

“You’re a brainless, stupid, careless fucking idiot. I don’t want to see you in my household again,” you point at her, making her step back.

“This is Jungkook’s-…” she squeaks, just about to correct you when you point at her even more menacingly. You’re not even joking around as it seems like, eyes angry to the point that they lack of love, even for Jungkook who tries to hold you back.

“I’ll get a restraining order on you.”

Hyejoo scurries out all with the promise to reimburse you (as if she has the money to do so) that falls on deaf ears, your hand slamming the door too hard that your husband swears the walls shook with your force.

You look unrecognizable with the sheer disappointment you have for him, your anger dripping off of you thickly that he’s rendered speechless.

“You,” you seethe. “I fucking hate you.”

You never told him that before.

You’ve gotten mad at him on several occasions but never to this degree where you tell him that you loathe him. This is the furthest that you’ve took it, the honesty behind your words making his bottom lip tremble.

Jungkook’s eyes have been perpetually moist since last night but it’s only now that his eyes sting with white hot sadness. You’re only reacting out of your state of overwhelm; you must be, right?

“I hate you so, so much, Jungkook.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No, I really mean that,” you scoff to his face, shaking your head in absoluteness. “What would you do if I sold your car, huh?”

Jungkook wants to apologize to you so bad but he doesn’t have the right words to give you the proper one that you deserve. He gives you an answer off the top of his head, the disappointment for himself growing if he does otherwise.

“It’s just a car.”

“Well this is just not a fucking ring to me! It’s not simple like that!” you burst, your movements jerky.

“I’ll buy you a new ring,” he whispers, wanting to tug at his hair for being so stupid. He should’ve considered the possibility that Hyejoo has a knack for being careless; he failed to account that he went behind your back to lend your ring to someone else in the first place.

“I can buy my own rings!” you exclaim. “What you don’t get is that this means the world to me! If your uncle gave you a car, and I gave it to someone else and now it’s on the bottom of the ocean, what would you feel?”

“It’s just a car from my uncle. I can replace it. I can buy a better one.”

Jungkook knows he’s just making excuses. He’s just being defensive now that he’s cornered and has no excuse for behaving so poorly. He can’t escape the anger and the disappoint he’s flooded with, not when you cry out of sheer distress.

“Not if my aunt isn’t here! Not if this ring is one of the only things I have of her!”

Sure, your aunt was dodgy. She’s the black sheep of your family and had done more than a lot of questionable things, but she cared for you. She had given you her own ring when you were twelve and whilst it was too big for you to wear, she gave you a chain for you to wear it around your neck.

The ring is something you can easily replicate but the thought behind it is what you can’t take back. It’s not the only piece of her that you have but it’s one of the earliest things you obtained; one of the most notable pieces out of the bunch.

“You don’t think. You don’t care. You don’t love.”

For Jungkook to carelessly seize it from you and loan it to someone else grips your heart like a vice. You’re gonna dwell on it for more than a couple of days and realize that you have more sentimental and elegant things you have of your aunt eventually — but what matters to you is how you feel now. How Jungkook had disappointed you so bad, you feel like throwing up.

“I want to divorce you,” you seethe, meaning your words at the heat of the moment. Jungkook stands frozen, hearing his own heartbeat thrum in his ears. “I can find a new husband. What I can’t find — what neither you nor Hyejoo can’t find is my ring.”

( ♡ )

You do it while he’s sleeping.

You take advantage of Jungkook’s fatigue and disorientation from crying his eyes out, passed out in the couch while he hugs himself with his arms to try and replicate your embrace. It’s already morning and it only looks like he slept just minutes ago, positively dozed off.

You take much care in slipping of the platinum wedding ring from his finger, joining your discarded one in your palm. There’s only carelessness when you scoop them into a tiny drawstring bag, taking it to Hoseok and doing a regular work day as if your head hadn’t pounded with hurt just last night.

It’s only convenient for the both of you; Jungkook’s decision slingshots back to him, and your client would be happy. Hoseok texted you last night asking if he should grant the request of a high-profile client with a titanium pendant, and it just so happens that you have two chunks of it that you no longer need. It could be melted and repurposed — after all, it’s just jewelry according to Jungkook.

The guilt of your impulsiveness doesn’t hit you instantly, it only comes with confusion when you see your husband in shambles.

When you come home, the whole house is upturned. Jungkook’s frantic, waking up to a hand that bears no wedding ring; no proof of you. His eyes glaze with relief briefly when he sees you, urging you to take in the situation fully.

“The police. The CIA! Interpol! MI6 — or is it MI7? Fuck, Mr. Bean’s movie was too good! Get the Blue House on the line!” he blubbers, looking back and forth the cushions of the couch and his hand. “My wedding ring!”

It’s perhaps a ballsy move made on your part, but you can’t guilt yourself into bearing the blame. You made your wedding rings and it only makes sense for you to get rid of them. The bands are symbolic, made and upheld with love for the last two years but in your haste of upset, you’ve given them away.

You perhaps regret it slightly, the fog in your brain lifting but only faintly. You’re still mad and disappointed at Jungkook, and perhaps you don’t mean the bit of divorcing him, but you do mean wholeheartedly the sentimentality you have behind all your jewelry.

The platinum in your ring finger just felt too heavy last night that you grew weary of it, not thinking twice when you removed yours and Jungkook’s. Even if the two of you make up and you don’t end up divorcing Jungkook, you wouldn’t want to wear the same ring that brought you the same pain during its stint.

“I sold them,” you answer, turning your back on him before you could see the anguish in his face. “We have no need for them.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s making you a rice bowl as an apology.

Buttered fried rice, egg, bacon, and all with a generous amount of cheese. It’s his hangover food when he needs something greasy and filling but the only difference from his past hangovers and your anger at him is the latter barely feels like it could be rectified.

He says his apologies again through the door and he’ll happily repeat it to your face if you stand longer in front of him for more than a minute, his panic even larger than the oil splashes he’s gotten from making your bacon eagerly.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It was stupid of me to lend your ring to Hyejoo behind your back and I swear I won’t do it again. I know that ring meant a lot to you and I-I was so pathetic by invalidating that,” he mutters through the door, looking at the frying pan every now and then to make sure he wasn’t burning anything. “I have every intention of finding your ring and making it up to you, cross my heart!”

It feels insulting, even. For him to think that he could change the ache of your heart with a simple hot meal. Jungkook realizes that he really is dense when you don’t answer the door for the twenty minutes that he knocks. When you do open up, he feels even more dumb.

Just twenty minutes ago, he wired you twice the amount of the worth you estimated your aunt’s ring to be. Combined with the pitiful amount Hyejoo wires you, it’s then do you realize that you’re not fazed by money. The initiative is there, sure, but the ache in your heart hasn’t subsided completely.

You do miss Jungkook. It does tug at your heartstrings to see and hear him beat himself up over and over again the more you realize that you’re attached to your aunt’s memories rather than the ring itself, but just two nights away from each other won’t absolve everything he’s done and failed to do.

When you open the door, you’re greeted by the sight of your husband who tries far too hard for his own good. Melancholy isn’t a good look on him because he looks the most unkempt he’s ever appeared in two days than the two years you’ve been living with him under the same roof.

Jungkook waits for you to register his attempt, holding up a hot bowl with his bare hands that you resist the urge to take it from him for a second. His ring finger’s occupied by a cheap mood ring, rapidly turning red at the moment from the heat of the bowl.

You look down fully expecting to be swayed even just a little bit, but when you do, you feel the kick to just slam the door right back.

“I hate runny eggs,” you scowl. “Two years married and you don’t even know how I like my eggs cooked.”

Jungkook wants the ground to swallow him whole.

He wishes that if it was true that chickens are the last true descendants of dinosaurs, there’d be a chicken the same size as them that pecks him into oblivion.

He hurriedly turns on the stove and scoops up the egg back into it, careful not to have any of the runny folk get on your meal. He itches in frustration, his ring finger that’s temporarily adorned with a cheap and clunky mood ring being accurate by turning blue in sadness.

Jungkook’s so out of it, so disappointed in himself that he doesn’t notice he cooks the egg until it’s burnt, the char of it reflecting how poorly he thinks of himself now.

It’s like when you were disappointed in him that time when his outlandish aunt made a rude comment about you and you were speechless the whole night that he stayed silent. He remedied it by later groveling at your feet and marching to his aunt and laying out all of his intentions for her to grow up and apologize to you, the same aunt that’s now blacklisted from all the gatherings.

It’s like when you were upset at him when he left abruptly in the morning and didn’t tell you where he was going because he didn’t know if you would care, partying it up in a different country for his friend’s bachelor’s party and coming home a day later with you hot on his heels. Jungkook made it up to you by once again apologizing profusely and updating you on his whereabouts since then (sometimes he gives too much information), always making it a point to bring two powerbanks with him so he can text you when he’s left and arrived.

This time though, he doesn’t know how exactly to make it up to you. He’s been in contact with professional divers to try and look for the ring for you, but he can’t be of much help until he comes along to know for sure. He’s thinking of all these different ways and approaches but he’s unsure if any of them are sufficient enough to rectify his mistake.

Jungkook feels pathetic because he swears he loves you and knows everything about you, but here he is — crying about how he doesn’t even know how you like your eggs cooked.

You’re upset at him, and he can’t do anything right for you.

( ♡ )

Jungkook tries again at dinner.

It’s the day of Meridian’s 100th anniversary and the two of you play it up for the cameras, your husband’s attention on you so keen and affectionate that you almost forget you were supposed to be mad at him.

He takes advantage of the cameras during the carpet session, tugging you close with his hand on your waist as he seizes the chance to hug you tightly at the end when you enter the hall with no cameras in place. He breathes you in as he always does, hesitant to let you go and exhale because you’re the very scent and existence of love.

Jungkook studied, of course he did. He’s touched up on his jewelry knowledge because he’s more than desperate now to seek your validation, nervously smiling all around as he waits for people to stop approaching you in your table.

His attention’s fixed on your necklace, the stone on it similar to the very ring he lent and lost. He’s brought it up about five times already, animatedly reciting trivia about it as if you’re not the literal face of the jewelry industry. He clears his throat, leaning in for you to whisper intimately, but just loud enough for the other people to hear a tad.

“Ah, that pink sapphire looks so good on you, babe.”

“Shut up,” you mutter sharply, making Jungkook’s heart skip a beat. You melted against him when he was hugging you, that much he was sure of. He doesn’t know why you’ve become harsh again all of a sudden, forgetting that his lapse this time was opening his mouth. “Stop saying that.”

“Saying what?” his brows furrow, swallowing the lump on his throat. “Pink?” he guesses, eyes wavering as he tests the waters. “Pink sapphire?”

It takes a lot in you not to make an outburst. Truth be told, you’ve started easing up on Jungkook but his attempts at trying hard is just too much and in the wrong direction, hearing pink sapphire over and over again reminding you of the ring you lost.

“Yes, that! Stop talking.”

“But I did my homework! Of course I’m not gonna stop talking,” he defends himself, the nervousness rising to his throat like bile. God, what if he did the wrong homework? What if he’s missed the assignment all along?

“Clearly you didn’t try hard enough because you’re wrong, Jungkook. This isn’t a pink sapphire — this is a pink diamond.”

Jungkook’s brain stops functioning for a solid five seconds, his mouth drying. The only proof that he was still breathing is his big eyes threatening to water.

“And so is my ring that you gave to your friend without asking me,” you add.

“What?!” he sputters in disbelief, recounting to all the other times he named the gem in multiple occasions even before today. “B-but I said it so many times before! You didn’t even correct me!”

“I didn’t correct you because you looked so proud of yourself!” you exclaim, surrendering with a sigh. Pink sapphire was the first gem that Jungkook had managed to name in your trivia night on the first month of your marriage, his avidness on getting it “right” so contagious that you didn’t have the heart to correct him.

“Pink sapphire is dirt cheap compared to pink diamonds, Jungkook! You just keep saying sapphire over and over again because it’s your birthstone,” you mumble, looking around to see if there were any people growing nosy at your conversation. “I let you say it over and over again to the point that I wore them instead of diamonds because you just can’t shut up about them,” you grit.

This is the only time you reference your sentiment with the jewelry itself in words, your last profession of your disappointment in him being the removal of your wedding bands.

“That’s the thing with you — you can’t tell. This isn’t just about emerald o-or octagon cuts, Jungkook. This is our marriage and you gave a girl that I don’t like my ring that meant so much to me! Now you can’t get it back.”

Jungkook’s speechless, holding back tears. You fear you’ll cry yourself when you look at his round, pleading eyes so you don’t, squeezing in the last word even if he always lets you have it.

“And now I’m correcting you because you’re embarrassing me. Now please, lay off with the gem terms.”

( ♡ )

Things have been tame between you and Jungkook.

You’ve aired out your grievances and Jungkook’s still trying hard as always, perplexing you because he hasn’t gone restless. It’s progressively warmer between the two of you but it’s nowhere near to what the two of you used to be, the air between the two of you going static that you’ve utilized it for your own.

It’s just a quick getaway for the day, hopping aboard a yacht with the intention of giving yourself a break. You’ve reflected enough but not alone with yourself, the period of space with Jungkook being much-needed.

Until you’re mistaken of course.

You think your mind’s playing tricks on you when the boat rocks more than it would with waves, but the all too familiar figure coming into your vision turns out to be real. It’s Jungkook in the flesh, wearing his scuba suit and gear.

It’s a pure coincidence that is. All Jungkook knew was that you were going on a yacht today and you didn’t specify where; meanwhile, all you knew was that he was going to be scuba diving, but he didn’t specify where either.

It’s purely kismet but your bodyguard Taehyung doesn’t seem to think so, legitimately thinking it was a pirate instead of your husband so he repeatedly smacks him with an oar until you stop him.

“Jungkook!” you call out, getting your bodyguard to stop. Atleast he has the decency to look sheepish, but he was genuinely concerned! He thought you were being hijacked by someone dressed in the most unassuming scuba suit, holding a plastic bag in his hands.

Your husband barely winces from the pain because he’s high from all the adrenaline, chest rising rapidly in succession. “Y/N, baby, I — hold on, I’m gonna, wait-…”

He looks tired still but there’s a light to him, either his radiance has come back or it was just the sun behind him but either way, it was nice to look at Jungkook who isn’t groveling at your feet for once.

He finally catches his breath, standing up to his full height as he tries not to ramble his words.

“I bought all the fish.”

“You did what?” your eyes widen, pathetically looking at the vast ocean around you. Perhaps you’re so startled (and amused) by Jungkook’s sudden and silly appearance that you forgot to apply common sense, just as breathless as he is.

“Okay maybe not all, but I did buy a lot of fish,” he concedes, nodding incessantly. He’s too excited that he can’t contain himself, even more-so when you finally look at him without disdain staining your features.

“For what?” you ask, genuinely curious.

Jungkook smiles, never having been more proud retelling you his previous failure.

“Your favorite seafood restaurant? I bought them their stock, provided that they’ll open up every last fish in there to see if they had your ring,” he shrugs as if it’s a common thought process to abide by, later shaking his head. “They don’t.”

If there’s just one trait that Jungkook had to be known with by everyone, it would be his persistence.

Jeon Jungkook is endearingly, cloyingly, and annoyingly persistent with the things he desires and the things he’s passionate about. You’re his wife — you’re his every last desire and passion. He had wronged you fresh from a week and some days ago but that timeframe has already given him ample time to fully redeem himself.

He can’t undo what he did. He can’t reverse the time he lent his wife’s ring to his friend who loses it not a full day later. Jungkook can’t take back any of the things he did but what he can do is be dedicatedly persistent in correcting himself.

He’s tanner, his muscles are bulged and straining, and his skin’s itchy with all the salt but he takes all of these things in stride — he’s become a better person through persistence.

“I also tried snorkeling for a week and I still couldn’t find it,” he trails, biting his bottom lip while he clasps his hands behind his back. “But I tried again today.”

It’s either relief or endearment that fills your face full, but nonetheless, the light that Jungkook sees from you lulls him to the comfort and warmth he’s been yearning from you for the past week. His eyes are strained and his body feels itself moving in waves as if he was still underwater, but he just closes his eyes to savor the moment.

You bound to him to put him in an embrace, your husband instantly melting in your hold. It’s either all the salt in his eyes or it’s just the realization that you’ve finally forgiven him and it’s all the love he feels for you, but either way, you hold Jungkook tighter.

“I found your ring.”

( ♡ )

You don’t know when Jungkook first loved you.

You can’t pinpoint an exact moment when Jungkook started acting differently towards you because he’s always been the same way from day one, the same qualities that make him both annoying and endearing having been there from the start.

You could always ask but you can’t bring yourself to. It shouldn’t bother you at the end of the day because the important thing is that Jungkook loves you. He loves without reservations, the pinnacle of his love language being his patheticness in trying hard.

Jeon Jungkook may try hard for everyone, but he tries the most for you.

He wakes up early and you only realize his absence when you turn to pat the warm space he’s supposedly left behind, making you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

You wonder for a second that if Jungkook left the bed early and is quiet at the moment, he’s probably at the bottom of the staircase again because he yawned while going down. There’s no schedule today for either of you and you aren’t sick for him to make any sudden trips downstairs, his absence making you wonder this time.

There’s clanging coming from the garage, piquing your interest largely. There sits Jungkook wearing less safety gear that you’d like, blocks and blocks of wood surrounding him.

Your husband looks up, unassuming as usual while he breaks out into a grin.

“I’m making furniture for you.”

“That’s not necessary,” you snort, recounting all of the pieces you’ve acquired from your friend who’s an expert on woodcarving. Jungkook seems to know this too but he’s insistent, shaking his head eagerly.

His eyeglasses (his prescription ones instead of the actual safety ones) fog up from both his sweat and the few tears he’s shed out of frustration, taking them out so you could see the passion in his eyes. The passion’s definitely there, dampening his eyelashes and even tinting his eyelids pink.

“No, I’ll paint it up real good and it’ll blend it to your aesthetic.”

“Besides that, Jungkook,” you warn, coming down to squat on the space beside him. “You’re not good with tools.”

“Not good at them like Hoseok?” he questions, raising his brow. He’s frustrated and cranky and he just compared his (eager yet improper) use of large power tools compared to Hoseok’s expertise in using much, much smaller tools. Jungkook’s sweaty from all the effort, vaguely gesturing to the item in front of him. “Please, can Hoseok do it like me?”

Your husband points to the lopsided bench (?) slash coffee table (?) slash abstract piece (?) in front of you whose message is that they’re tired, only the scoopers for faux blood missing. It’s quite the spectacle. Not necessarily a statement piece because it raises more questions than any resolute takeaways at all.

“No, not really,” you joke around, winking to get the joke across your husband’s skull who sometimes reads between the lines too literally. “He can do it much, much better than you.”

“I’m trying to be romantic!” Jungkook whines with no real harm. “Go ahead, why don’t you divorce me and marry him because he’s so good with using a hammer?”

The two of you were back; the same playfulness and warmth rekindling, if not stronger. Some things were just too strong to grow out of, such as Jungkook’s double takes when it comes to another name being linked to you.

He’s just making sure, still as desperate to gain your validation even before the ring incident took place.

“That was… a joke if you couldn’t tell,” Jungkook laughs robotically, eyes narrowing and widening at you every two seconds. “I’m just kidding. You knew that. You wouldn’t do that… right?”

You wouldn’t.

He knows that you love him. He had known it during his state of vulnerability and he knows it now even in a state of security. He knows it even without a wedding ring, your promise of making new ones for the both of you remaining in his mind.

The downfall of Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t be his persistence that also bears the ability to be his uprising, it was never that. Jungkook’s downfall would only be the loss of you and it’s the only absence that he can’t risk.

Your husband tries so hard that it brings you secondhand embarrassment at times, his mishap with the pink sapphire cementing in your mind just how much of himself he dedicates to you, even with lapses along the way.

Jungkook tries so hard that he ends the day with splinters on his hand and his sinuses clogged with far too much dust. His effort doesn’t always equate to the best but he gives what he always has when you’re in the equation.

It’s a wooden box for your rings, a shallow heart with your initials carved on the inside. It’s smooth even without the varnish, a stark contrast to his hands that are all rough from doing all the labor.

“I can’t give you jewelry that you already have.”

Jungkook admits to you whole-heartedly, sitting at the end of the bed while he watches you admire the box in your vanity.

“But I can make shirts for you. Stitch up your name real nicely on my chest pocket,” he offers, the smile on his lips growing. “I can make furniture for you,” he shrugs, chuckling at himself. “I can’t guarantee that it’s usable but I can make furniture a little.”

You smile so warmly that Jungkook forgets all of the little pains, melting away his fatigue. If you could put all the love you have for Jungkook in a single space, even the mansion the two of you reside in won’t be enough.

“Cooking too. I can also cook a-and make perfect rice and I promise to remember how you like your eggs in the morning.”

Jungkook knows it to heart by now, even without the reminder he’s written himself pasted on the counter. Your eyes were just so glossy and moist that Jungkook can’t help but to spring to your side, patting them dry with his shirt.

Your husband wipes away your tears even before they could form and it pushes them out further, the voice in your throat dwindling. It’s the cheap and rusting mood ring on his ring finger that gets you to sob, seeing the faint green outline that it leaves.

He takes notice of your observation, understanding that jewelry means much more to you that he could comprehend which is why he’s quick to remedy your thoughts.

“I can always get tattoos of you if that’s what you want,” he continues, smiling sheepishly. “Actually, that’s what I want.”

Jungkook takes off his ring and it forces you to blink away your tears, lips parting open when it clicks.

It’s your initials on Jungkook’s ring finger, recognizing it as your own handwriting.

You’re filled with a great amount of gratitude that runs even deeper than the ink on Jungkook’s skin, making you sniffle and it gets him to bury your face against his chest while he shushes you.

“Why would you get that?”

It belatedly hits you that since you took your wedding bands, your husband’s left ring finger had not been vacant since.

“Because you sold our rings,” Jungkook shrugs, the look of ease on his face evident. “You sold them but we’re still married to each other,” he gently kisses your temple, letting you hold his hand to look at the tattoo closer. “We’re married. I still want people to know that I’m married to you.”

“Well,” you clear your throat, distraught with your emotions. “Your mood ring says you’re sad.”

“Passionate would be the term,” he sniffles, transferring the cheap ring to your finger. He giggles when it changes colors immediately, the timing of the situation being impeccable. “Okay now my ring says you’re happy.”

“Are you?” he asks whilst laughing but the both of you know it bears a weight.

“I am,” you answer just as seriously. “We’re okay, Jungkook. I forgive you.”

If you ask Jungkook what would his greatest joy and his greatest pain be, both answers would be you.

“Is your tattoo artist still around?” you ask while he puts you close to his chest, snapping him out of his trance.

“What for?”

“I think I want to match your permanent ring.”

“Are you real?” he mutters to himself, questioning your existence that he still isn’t sure if he deserves to have and love for the rest of his life. “Are you really real? You exist?”

“Yeah, he’s still around but I’d rather do it on you myself,” Jungkook answers eventually, returning the question. “Is that okay? Let me learn for a few months and I’ll tattoo my initials on you myself?”

You furrow your brows, not a single doubt placed on you if your husband was the one to tattoo you. “Yeah, but is that okay with you? You’re the only one who’s gonna have me on you for a couple more months. I can’t reciprocate because you want to ink me yourself.”

Jungkook only smiles, the warmth enough to outshine the sun.

“That’s not new to me,” he reassures you. “I loved you even before I married you.”

#thank u for 2022 :) consider this as my gift for the holidays!!!#jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts jungkook imagine

6K notes · View notes

eccentricallygothic · 4 days

Text

|| Wrong Turn ||

Pairing: Mountain Man Silver Fox Nomad!Steve Rogers | You.

Trope: Neat and clean ‘civilized’ Princess-like young trophy wife X Filthy beast of a wild and scary man who only got her because he has the power.

Description: In a desperate attempt to save your life from the wrath of the mountain people that your friends and you stumbled upon and accidentally killed on a hike gone wrong, you had to offer yourself up to their Leader to use as a ‘resource’. But little did your ‘husband’ know, you had been actively getting rid of his seed to avoid actually getting pregnant. Naturally, when he does find out, he is very unhappy… And also very determined to make sure you don't make it out of your punishment without a child, or two.

Warning(s): Dubcon, barbaric!Steve, breeding kink (gone wild), unprotected p-in-v, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, missionary, he has a wife bod kink (but it is inclusive), misogyny, smut with perhaps too much plot, fear kink, size kink, exhibitionism, possessiveness, jealousy, age gap, hair pulling, spanking, biting, allusions to painal and Steve being a teasing sicko about it but he doesn't actually penetrate, overstimulation, dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, boob play, squirting, Lloyd makes an appearance with his own young bride, dacryphilia (it's me), self degradation, Stevie is a perverted old meanie, infantilization, mind break.

Disclaimer: Very loosely based off of the movie that I do not own. You don't need to know it to read this piece but do note that it takes place in a fictional setting. Minors do not interact.

Inspo-ish: This post.

Note: For someone who was on their period, I should not have been this horny. But I need this marriage, now. Ps, though this rotted in my drafts for a long time… in honor of Chris growing out his beard again, ig.

MASTERLIST

. . .

You have no idea how long it has been since that fateful twilight when everything changed in your life, leaving you to a lifestyle you could never have even imagined for yourself.

“Eat up, woman” but as your barbarian of a husband commands you in his rough and animalistically deep voice, you cannot help but break out of your reverie and shudder at the sight of the barely cooked meat piled high on the platter in front of the two of you. “So you can bear me healthy children” although you're the one who was made to prepare his beastly dinner -that never fails to leave you aghast when it's gorged down- as you're his wife, you cannot help but gag under your breath and feel disgust for the loaves that sit before you in the company of a tall stone carved jug that brims full of the foul smelling mead that your husband is ardently fond of.

You muster up your best coy smile. Keeping up the appearance of a happily mated pair is important. Or people stare. And then the old man becomes unpleasant. “I had quite a lot while I was cooking, dear” your lies sting your tongue out of the fear you feel of getting caught, but the mere hope of not doing so is better than eating this. “Y- You go ahead” you slowly turn in his muscle hardened lap, that you are always to sit on, to give him a small smile but your expression almost transforms into one of horror because of how wildly your heart jumps at the sight of his stern, predator-like face. You are quick to recover though, as it is a usual occurrence.

“You need it. You work so hard—” there is just something about his rough looks that never fails to send a chill down your spine. You have never seen anything, let alone an actual human man like him before.

A beard as thick as the very forest his people populate and as dark as the nights can get here in the absence of lanterns due to the heavy trees, age that streaks some of his gold locks with its silver has not marred the sternness of his jaw that remains firmly set under the heavy mane of his facial hair. His shoulders seem akin to the mountains that surround his village and his piercing dark eyes the mysterious waterfall that flows some way down south from the entrance of the settlement. The frightening mass of his shoulders is so toned that if the barely noticeable wrinkles that sometimes appear under the dark of his eyebrows and next to the crow-feather like lashes that frame his eyes, he can easily be mistaken for a man in his primeful late twenties and no older. His unrelenting strength and wolfish stamina would only further serve to bear testament to the misconception.

Your strict husband bluntly catches your shaky hand that you extend in his direction to feed him some of the meat, the force that he uses coupled with the coarseness of his skin making you jump. You bite back a yelp and whimper when you look up at his dark blue eyes from where you were watching his bearded mouth to carefully place the food in.

“I don't care” Steve does not care much for being polite -unless it is you who disregards it in your behavior-, especially when it comes to you denying or diverting his ‘care’ for you. “You eat more” you bite back the scowl that threatens to break onto your face from how he turns your hand around in your direction instead. “Wives always need to eat more. They do so much at home for husband and children” he probably feels proud of these ‘values’ that have been transmitted to him by his elders. But all they make you want to do is to crack him across the jaw for being a misogynistic and backward shithead. Especially with you.

Your ‘husband’ believes that everyone has a role to play; a contribution to make to their people and home. That is how this archaic village of theirs has survived in these mountains hidden away from the rest of the world for so long.

The greasy piece of a disturbing excuse of a rare steak touches your lips and you've been here long enough to know better than to argue or worse yet, fight. So you smile and lean into his arm that cases your form against his through the embrace he holds you in from behind, his fingers playing with one of the many flowered braids your attending ladies had put in your hair a bit before his arrival at ‘home’.

“O- Of course” you reluctantly open your open and grip your flowy dressing gown for a semblance of support for your sanity, taking the smallest bite you can -which is still a lot as the man pushes nearly the whole piece into your mouth the moment you open up- as you keep your eyes trained on his to avoid looking down. Your mind always becomes more aware of the taste when you look. “Thank you, dear” you focus on swallowing it without gagging and feel your smile split in places because of how uncomfortable you are.

He probably notices it because he slightly raises one eyebrow and snorts before hugging your smaller form -that is tiny compared to his- closer and puts the rest of the piece in his own mouth. If there is one thing you have learnt in your time with him, it's that you can never fool him. Not really. No matter how well you may think you have lied or pretended, he always sees through it.

Sometimes you suspect he even enjoys it.

Steve finally begins to eat himself, silently offering you another piece that you politely reject by shaking your head and then quickly pressing an apologetic kiss to his scruffy cheek to lighten the blow. Apparently, a wife can never be polite enough to her husband. And though the change in his expression begins with an unhappy frown, your show of ‘affection’ seems to suffice him and he relaxes in satisfaction, now looking down the long table and at his clansmen and maidens that sit enjoying their dinner, their chatter and laughter a dull roar in the large eating hall of the Leader's dwelling. You pick up the heavy jug of mead with both your hands and obediently hold it to his lips to sip from. Steve looks away from what one of his main men are saying and gulps down a mouthful, rubbing your back as a gesture for thanks before moving his hand quickly down to squeeze your ass to heighten the effect of his expression of gratitude.

His form shakes in mirth when you yelp and blush. He knows how embarrassing you find being openly ‘affectionate’ in front of people and that is one of the reasons why he enjoys it so much besides showing off that a thing of such beauty and youth like you is all his. You rest the jug between your boobs that he has fucked and squeezed into increasing in size and use your other hand to gently finger and stroke his golden locks that he keeps pushed away from his face outside the bedroom. Though he says nothing, you feel his usually vigilant and always firm stature slowly soften and you cannot help but smile, though what he says next quickly deflates it.

“Do you feel any change in you, wife?” You know what it means and now it's you who becomes tense. He only uses that name for you when he speaks to you as a husband inquiring about your marital matters. “Has my seed attached to your womb yet? Does it grow there?” You gulp and feign shyness, moving closer to his hair and nuzzling yourself in him. “Hm?” He closes his hugging arm around you and reaches for your stomach, fingers groping your covered skin as gently as he can -which isn't much- to feel it. “Answer me” he demands when you refuse to speak.

“I… I don't know, husband” you always promise yourself that you'll demand more rights for yourself; ask him to treat you like the other husbands treat their wives, only to fail the minute he enters your vicinity.

“What does that mean?” His tone turns blunt and you whimper at the tightness that snaps back in place between his shoulders.

You get it.

That was the deal, after all.

Healthy children in exchange for your life that was required by their judicial laws for bearing false witness to your friend accidentally killing one of their people in mistaken defense. Steve had promised you before accepting you as a citizen that if you failed to fulfill your task you'd walk the darkness in the dungeons. He had shown you how it would be before declaring you a member of their tribe and the sight you had seen was something that had given you nightmares for days.

But that did not mean you actually wanted to have your old captor's children.

You doubted it would ever be something you'd look forward to.

“I- I mean” regret shoots up your spine in the form of fear and you lose your speech to it momentarily. But then two of your main attending ladies -by that you mean Steve's top agents when it comes to you- enter the horizon of your sight and you hurriedly blubber out the first thing that comes to your mind. “I've n- never been pregnant before, s-o I d- don't know how to…” Your husband turns to look at you, his handsome features twisting into a rogue scowl but before he can scold you, one of the two ladies, Kaira, speaks in their language to Steve.

Not everyone here can speak English and those who do speak it do so a rather odd version of it. Naturally, you don't speak their language and so they give you the full experience of an outsider when they need to discuss the business they want to keep private from you. The thought makes you want to laugh, like you'd be able to do something with whatever informations they withhold.

But it doesn't really bother you, because you don't care.

You've also learnt that ignorance is bliss here.

Especially for someone like you.

Better to be the doe eyed trophy wife of an angel who can't tell her head from her ass.

“Is that so?” Your heart jumps when Steve chooses to speak English. That means that this definitely concerns you. You place the mead down and wrap one arm around his broad shoulders before nervously combing his thick beard with your other hand. Since you have no interest in or desire to learn their language, the only word you manage to pick up on when you focus really hard is ‘baby’ and that is solely because of the annoying amount of times it comes up for you.

“Is not this strange?” He speaks once the women step back after finally ending the nerve wracking conversation that seems to go on forever. “Do you hear what they say about you, little one?” Fuck, you're definitely in trouble.

He is reminding you of your place.

You put on your best charming smile but you're painfully aware that your nervousness gives it away. You can feel it. “W- What do they say, dear?” They were such bitches. They knew how to speak English, that's why they were your attendants, but yet they chose not to. And now they were glaring at you like you weren't above them— oh no, not these thoughts again. You will never become like them! No, no!

Steve pushes his plate away now. Your head spins from the realization. It's only half finished. Your husband never wastes his food. It is a near sin for them to do so. “They tell me the most odd things” oh just fucking tell me! You mentally scream but outwardly tilt your head to the side in confusion, your chest vibrating with the rising beats of your heart. “And now that I think about it myself…” His fingers wrap around the mead before he raises it to his lips. “I see the—”

“What did they say, Steve?” Your mouth works faster than your better sense and he pauses mid sip, dark blue eyes flickering up from the stone jug to look at you. Your face flushes a noticeable hot and your ears get sweaty from the awareness.

Fuck.

“They say you've been getting rid of my seed” he feels played and thus angry at the both of you. Perhaps more so towards himself than you; his silly little child-wife. How could he let a thing as tender and small as you fool him so? “... Do you?” It is obvious you are guilty. Besides, he is confident that his people would never lie to him unlike one young and beautiful girl that he had found kneeling in front of him in his court while bawling her eyes out one fateful night, fear stricken as his people surrounded him like a doe trapped.

And of course, your expressions and reactions don't help your case, as always. “W- What? No…” Your mind becomes erratic.

“No?” He himself knows not what kind of a chance he offers you with that. But typical to your nature, you make it easy for him by refusing it.

“N- No! Of course not! W- Why would I ever do such a thing to m- my husb- hubby and my b- babies?!” Steve has to clench down his scoff.

“You wouldn't, would you?” Your naivete never fails to amuse him.

“No! I- I don't know why they accuse me so—” you mend your speech from the archaic form that tries to leech to it everyday. “I don't know why they would accuse me of that but they must be mistaken! This is a misunderstanding!”

He hums. “I see…” His scarred fingers begin to toy with your braids again. “So you remain devoted to me and faithful to our family, don't you?”

“Of course!” You nuzzle closer to him, your heart thundering into his chest. “I don't know why they still treat me like an outsider” you purr as you nervously stroke his hair, playing a card of your own and making an absolute fool of yourself by doing so. “I try my best… like I promised.”

“Yes, your promise” his distant eyes -they get like that when you disappoint him and you hate the sight because it never fares well for you- travel down to your empty stomach. His gaze makes it wrench. Your fear skyrockets at the same rate as your anger. If only there was a way for you to get back at those bitches without having to give birth!

“I- It takes time sometimes, dear…” You hug his shoulders with one arm. “But it will happen. I know it…” Your other hand reaches for his fingers that rest on your abdomen now.

“Oh?” Steve raises one dark eyebrow at you. His hair is the most fascinating combination of blonde and dark brown. “Is that what your modern day sciences say?” His people were not always like this, he had told you. They did not originate from here. Rather, some families had abandoned ‘civilization’ when it was going to hell -in his words- by killing each other for meaningless constructs such as caste, creed and color differences and migrated up here to establish a system of their own; one free from such nonsense.

Apparently.

You take a deep breath. “Stevie—” you only call him that when you find yourself dangerously close to the dungeons.

“If that is what you believe in, wife,” he never cuts you off. Usually, that is. His age that streaks his blonde strands with its silver ones has granted him enough patience. Normally, he waits for the other person -who is most often you- to mess up themselves. But whatever the ladies have told him seems to agitate him into rebelling against his own nature today. “I'll do it your way. After all, happy wife happy life, is that not what you tell me often?” Okay, you might have said that during a particularly cocky moment in bed once.

But the intention behind that had not been nearly whatever he is moving towards now.

“Y- You don't have to, l- love…” You nervously giggle. “You're perfect the way you are” you run your nails that he insists you keep trimmed for hygienic -as if- and practical purposes through his silver-blonde hair.

“Oh no…” Now he pushes his food farther away. “I will indulge you, little one” he moves your other leg over his laps so now you face the people down the table with both of your legs on either sides of his, ass to his… fuck. “Time conspires against us, and so we must make haste.”

Your eyes widen and your heart leaps up in your throat. “M- My love?!”

Steve moves your flowy gown out of his way, keeping a firm hold on one of your thighs even though he doesn't really have to. Your fear of him would never let you attempt an escape. “Yes, my stars” the name is so full of sarcasm it nearly pierces you open. “Let us leave time to its devices, and us ours” your husband is usually a very possessive and private man when it comes to you, but his ire seems to get the better of him today. You hear the buckle of his own clothes come undone. The table goes silent and heads turn in your direction once they realize what's going on. Oh no… Your stomach drops. Not in front of everyone. Not when Steve makes you so vulnerable in that condition. Not in front of these lowlifes!

“Husb—” blood bubbles hot under your cheeks as you feel him align himself against you.

Holy shit.

You feel one of his coarse hands wrap around your throat and he pulls you closer to his mouth so he can whisper in your ear. “You will contribute, my stubborn little wife,” you whimper from the menace his words hold, your well trained cunt obediently squelching open against his thick hard tip as he lowers you on his cock with the hold he has on your thigh. “Whether you like it, or not” sometimes, deep down, you fear that the dungeons are not an option anymore.

He keeps you in the horizons of his sight too much for them to be.

It appears as though the sentence has changed.

It is now Steve, or Steve.

You cry out from the strain his log-like girth puts on the narrow band of your entrance. God. You will never get used to his size regardless of how many times and ways he tames your pussy in. Yes, it does not refuse him or rip around him now as it used to in the beginning -and it did that for a long time- but the size to which his cock makes it expand is like a mini-birth. Feels like it, looks like it. Only, it feels way too good. And that's why you don't mind it—

No. You don't know what that was or meant. But you don't take responsibility for that thought!

“Oh!” The balmy velvet of your cavern grazes down the bulging veins and hard skin of the brute's cock until your petals squish against his heavy and very eager balls. Your head spins when you feel his tip tickle your cervix. It never takes his dick long to find it.

His hands are pushing you back up almost instantly so he can slide you back down. You look anywhere but at the tens of faces in front of you, instead choosing to look at the wall on the opposite side of the table. You never thought these people were capable of being this quiet until now when your pussy makes an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as Steve tugs you back to his leaking tip and then allows gravity to suck you back down. You desperately bite your lips and try to focus on ignoring the way your insides are beginning to thrum with the excitement and stimulation; to show these brutes that you're better than them and aren't some animal of nature. But to no avail. His slimy precum mixes too well with yours, the rough skin of his hands digs into your thighs too well and the manner in which your petals rub against his cock when he lifts you yet again -now forming a momentum- before letting you slide in again is too much for you mask with nonchalance.

Indifference has never been among your strong suits.

“Tell me, my pretty” Steve begins again, his dark eyes now finding the young and hormonal pack of unsuspecting boys who clearly do not know better. “Have you ever had a cock like mine?” He says it in their own language so the foolish miscreants see, understand and learn the fact that you’re only his. You belong to him and he will go to war for you, not that a pack of rug rats will ever be a cause of worry for him. “Has anyone ever fucked you as good as I do?” He switches back to the language you understand, roughly fumbling for your jaw before he grabs it and bounces his hips into yours at the same time.

Your traitorous legs have begun to do what they always do; fuck yourself against him -if he hasn’t bound you, which he hasn’t- in whatever position he has you. You only realize that your breathing has become heavier when you open your mouth to answer. “Only you, my husband! Only you!” Your brain is running too fast for reason or reflection to catch up so you leave wondering why you answer him with the only words he has been able to teach you in his language to later. Your words are muffled as his fingers that grip the lower half of your face nearly slip in your mouth from the disordered urgency of the both of your actions.

“That's right” your mouth falls open and you begin to softly pant in that animalistic way that you detest when he makes you watch yourself in a mirror while fucking you sometimes. In your defense, it is always unintentional on your part; you barely even notice it while taking his fucking. And yet, it is inevitable due to the force he does it with. “Look at you; dutifully fucking yourself up and down your husband's cock like a bitch in heat” a twinge forms in your knuckles from how your fingers hold the edges of the table to aid the gliding of your fuck hole that now slams up and down his cock in a rhythm you're all too familiar with, the smacks of your bare ass slapping against his naked abdomen making appalling noises that you're too worked up to dread over right now. “And you're a bitch in heat for me, aren't you?” His fingers move down from your jaw to your throat. “Wanting to be bred over and over again until you're so full of my children that your little belly is round and heavy to the brim, hm?” In these moments, you tell him anything and everything that he wants to hear.

Steve knows it all too well.

And he loves it.

“Yes!” Your voice disappears midway from how he squeezes your windpipe. His hips meet yours midway now, the wetness of your cunt and the force of his thrusts causing for his balls to try and push past the tight boundary of your sexual cavern. “Yes! Yes! I am! Please!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when his free hand finds your petals to play with. “Ohhh!”

“You want to be bred, don't you?” He rubs your drenched pussy lips while his hard cock pistons in and out of your sopping cunt. “Want to contribute…?” He chokes you once more and this time his fingers pinch one of your pussy lips punishingly at the same time and you cry out. “Provide your husband with a house full of heirs?” The oxygen in your mind depletes and your eyes flutter as a result, cheeks turning red and nerves becoming prominent on your glistening temples. Your horny yet defensive pussy finally relaxes around him a bit so it doesn't hurt his dick and he savours the moment by holding you by the curve between your legs and fucking into your form that gets limp by the moment to push you towards your first orgasm.

It always gets better after that.

For him, at least.

You don't choke him out so much then.

“Y- Yes!” When Steve finally lets go of your throat to let you breathe, you blubber out an an answer obediently once the light returns to your eyes. Your walls stiffen around him once more. But by then he has already worked himself closer to your womb. “Yes! Yes!” It is all your mind can muster.

“Good” he makes a point of taking both of your boobs in his hands and thoroughly massaging them to show off his ownership over you. “Now ask me to breed you” the fence of heat that has formed around your loins becomes tighter when his hands that previously fondled your clothed breasts slip under your gown -for Steve is too possessive to actually expose you to the eyes of others- and he softly rubs your tense sides a couple times before his fingers form pinches around your hard nubs.

“Please breed me!” Your voice is so loud and strained that its quality is nearly blood curdling. “Please breed me and s- stuff me full your children!” Your hands fly to grip his from over the dress as you throw your head back and slip from the edge of your anticipation, parrotting all the words he has taught you over the course of your marriage. “Oh GOD! Please!” Your back arches from the coming undone of the hot belt of expectation and scorching gratification spills from it, seeping down your legs in the form of a nearly unbearable electric feeling that transforms into a subzero energy when it reaches your toes that curl, causing them to feel as though they are freezing. “I need your b- babies so bad, hubby!”

Steve's own ears blush from the heat that courses through them in the form of adrenaline as he snorts, some of his blonde strands coming loose from the push and tug that he plays with your cunt. “Tell them” his balls ache from the strength it takes him not to fill you up right then. “Tell everyone that you want me to fill you up with my babies” since your sensitive body tries to curl and move away from the overstimulation, the older man wraps both of his hands around your thighs to keep you going. “Say it!” And he makes you say the words that he desires in the language of your spectators that look embarrassed for the first time since you got here.

Save for your husband's best men who look equal parts aroused and proud.

You want to cringe and be disgusted but your sensitive pussy is being pounded too hard for you to attempt a conjuring up of any dignity.

“Need hubby babies bad!” You cry out again from memory when Steve's thick seed begins to fill you up at last. “Oh, my God!” The feeling of his hot cum filling you up and painting every inch of your sensitive walls penetrates your already hazy mind and the warmth that steams out of the pearly liquid steams its way up to your womb, making you shudder at the feeling. Your opening tightens around him in protest of the overstimulation and it instead causes for a barrage of bitter-sweet electric sparks to explode through your abdomen in the form of a half post-climax orgasm. Your body grows tired.

But your insatiable is far from done.

“Flattering, but no” Steve pushes you against the table before standing up when he is done fucking his orgasm as deep as he can reach into you. “The father of your children will suffice” your eyebrows furrow at his words but the older man does not give you a chance to ponder over them because now he is hooking his hands under your thighs that your rapid and messy fucking has covered in both of your juices.

“W- What?!” Your vision is hazy and your mind dazed as you incoherently tap about. “What's— oh!” You wince from how much easier it is for him to move inside your worked open and much lubricated but torturously overstimulated walls now. “Oh! Oh…” Your hands blindly feel behind you to try and get him to stop. “Oh, no! No, please!” You cry out weakly, your upper body hanging low in the opposite direction from the exhaustion.

“No?” The older man darkly chuckles, paying no mind to your flailing. “You think you can say that to me?” One of his hands desert their post on your thighs to roughly grab at your hair. He hasn't forgotten what started all this. “You think you have the same rights as everyone else around here, wife?”

But you're scowling from the burning pain in your walls, mind hazy and unwise. “Stop! Stop!” Your puffy folds ache from how his stiff skin rubs against them as he moves in and out of you at a normal pace… for now. “It hurts, stop!”

“That is the part and parcel of having children” your body curves outwards as he pulls you further back and closer to himself by your hair. “And is that not why you're here?” His cocky tone along with the hungry and wondering eyes of the wildlings make you angry. “What you were spared for in the first place?” A twinkle in the eye of a man pisses you off and…

“It hurts, you old bastard!” Your young blood gets the better of you and your mouth runs before sense can catch up. “Stop, stop, stop it!” Since your hair holds you closer to him you manage to land a few smacks to his rock hard arms before you try to snake your fingers under his to pry off the hand that he coils around your thigh in a weak attempt to move away.

Steve only chuckles, clearly unfazed by your fighting as he bounces your smaller form up in the air with each thrust. “Did your mother not teach you anything, wife?” He lets go of your hair only to restrain both your arms on the small of your back. “Good girls never tell their husbands no” your body flops forward again and you've no choice but to face the long table full of people. “They lay down pretty with their legs spread and let their husbands fill them with their children and then they express their gratitude for being granted a family.” Though your mind is confused and rather disoriented from the influx of sensation, you can make out new additions to the crowd of your humiliation from the corners of your vision.

“Ugh!” You grunt from the rapid jabs he gives to your sore pussy, his firm hold nearly searing into your wrists. “I don't wanna have your stupid blonde babies!” Steve breathlessly lets out a real laugh at that. “Let go!”

“There” he can swear he will never tired of you breaking the little character of the obedient wife that you so naively think you have mastered only to break it when he has you all riled up like this. “Right there, easy now” his other hand leaves your lap and he pushes your head down and against the table in the most condescending manner imaginable. Steve has got you to expose yourself for the brat you are, no need for play anymore. “Now I make a bunny out of you” his dark eyes now meet with those of the boys sitting at the other end of the table and his use of their language is a silent message. The Leader knows how his wife is desired. And he doesn't appreciate it in the least. The young males all panic and look away, gulping to themselves and praying for their lives.

You try to struggle again, your lip curling in disdain and protest as you feel him fuck his cum right up your cervix. The bitter pleasure you get from it makes your head spin and your fingers and toes flex defensively. “Ooof!” Your cheek rubs against the table and you puff out your face to express how tense you feel down there.

“Brat” Steve shakes in silent mirth as he reaches for your ass with the hand that he was holding your face down with. “Don't you move a muscle.” You're too busy rocking over the table and being held down to try.

“Hubby, please!” You whine when one of his veins twitch deep up your walls and your knees shiver from the sensation. “Please!” Maybe if his cock wasn't so comically huge, it would have been easier to move past the rough friction of your raw, orgasm worn skins. But it is and so you are ready to abandon the dam that begins to form in your abdomen again if it means to avoid this pain. “Owwwiee!”

“Aw” Steve cooes as he now moves to a pace that falters your vision and causes for the great table to shake with each thrust that he gives you. “So small and sore, aren't we?” The spank he lands on your unsuspecting ass right after is the stark opposite of his tone. “Maybe we shouldn't act out so much when we are so weak and pathetic, huh, wife?”

“Oooof!” One of the shyer ladies get up before she carries her young son who stood next to the group of the young ones away and the realization of the fact that your spectators are all real people who see you everyday and will continue to do after this drips down your limbs like ice cold water. Your hips cannot help but clench from the embarrassment that you dully feel in some part of your mind way far at the back. “Hubby, please!” The spanks increase with each snap of his hips and though the turmoil between your legs takes up most of your sensory powers, your cheeks now begin to noticeably sting from the pain that builds from how the swings of his hand against your poor ass increase with each thrust.

“Please?” Steve muses like he isn't balls deep into you and fucking the literal daylights out of you like a crazed heathen. “Oh, but I thought I was a mean old bastard” of course, your pleas always only mean that you want more, according to the brute you are married to. They cannot mean anything else, apparently. “And you didn't want my stupid blonde babies” you grunt from the frustration and land a helpless fist on the table. You are in an uncomfortable tug of war between the mutilation of your sensory glands and the tall barrage of tight hot anticipation that cannot help but form in the base of your stomach again because of how hard and rough he fucks you.

Your husband's main man, Lloyd, laughs in a comically daft voice to tease you and be the insufferable asshole that he is. “You've got yourself a feisty little pup there, Steve” he is the only one who can refer to the blonde haired man by his name. Or maybe, he doesn't care to use the honorific and his usefulness backs him up. You wouldn't be surprised if the latter really is the case. “Don't you agree, my sweet?” He side hugs his own young bride who ironically is one of the sweetest and perhaps the only nice person in this entire village and Lloyd grins down at the girl whom you now notice is blushing furiously.

Before you can let the humiliation swallow you whole, Steve spreads your burning cheeks and chuckles at the sight he finds glistening and blinking up at him, the madenned hammering of his cock unceasing. “Look at this adorable little button of yours, darling” you are not personally familiar with any of the faces that witness you trying to pathetically crawl away when your devil of a husband begins to tickle your pucker so you realize it was actually not quite hitting you as bad as it does now when you become hyperaware of Rainie's gaze. If it weren't for how your eyes roll because of Steve's hot seed shooting deep up your cavern again and nearly searing into your very flesh this time around from the brutality of it all, you reckon you would have tried to hide. But now all you do is let out choked blubbers as your wide eyes sting from tears due to the sensory overload. “I think it's time we deflowered it, what do you think?”

Oh, no.

His cock is not something that you can handle in your ass without splitting all over the place!

“No answer? No?” It feels as though you are the one who is cumming and not Steve because of how good he is at wearing the mask of nonchalance. “Hm,” he roughly pulls you backwards by your hair before hooking an arm around your waist to keep you from trying to get away from how he toys with your trembling pucker. “Maybe we should let sweet Rainie decide for you, hm—?”

“OH, GOD!” You cannot help but scream over him.

He is too much.

Steve ignores your exclamation, thrusts delayed -more jab like- but so strong that his tip spears into your cervix with each thrust, thus causing for your head to spin from how he chooses to fuck out his orgasm. “She's your friend, isn't she?” Steve's beard gently stings the sweaty and teary skin of your jaw from how his mouth presses into your ear. “Aren't you, Rainie dear?”

Yep, you are never looking her in the eye ever again.

“Answer him, sunshine” Lloyd eggs his wife on and you notice through your cloudy vision that he is making her palm his own bulge. You nearly cringe back into Steve's chest from the obscenity of it all.

The girl, a new bride herself, is shy and small next to her own flesh boulder of a husband as she meekly peeks up at you through her lashes. “Y- Yes, sir. We are friends” her voice is barely audible and both your husbands chuckle.

If it weren't from how a dull orgasm rips itself apart somewhere deep between your loins, you would have felt angry.

It is like the assholes know that you're friends, and they're having their fun with it.

No wonder they are best mates.

“Good, good” you can feel Steve's cum splattering your thighs with each brutal jab, the sound and sprays of his shaft making a mess of your juices underneath your dress ample in its audibility. “So, do you think it's time your girlfriend's dirty little button was opened up, hm?” He keeps one hand on your pucker and reaches for your boob to grope with the other.

Rainie blushes again and furiously lowers her head the moment her eyes connect with yours. Though you don't know it, her own has been deflowered not too long ago and she isn't sure what response would be favourable by you, so that and the embarrassment of the Leader questioning her for something like that about his wife when she is on amiable terms with the girl makes her choose silence for as long as allowed. And her own husband cockily leaning into her and mansplaining into her ear how it would work for you by comparing it with what he did to her pretty ass only makes her curl further.

“Shy little thing, isn't she, my precious?” So your husband turns his unwelcome attention back to you, bending the both of your bodies forwards so he can smack your asshole with the back of his hand easier, the impact making you rock violently forward. “Maybe you should learn some manners from her, huh?” The howls you let out from getting your pucker pinched and hit is something you would rather not narrate. All you choose to disclose of that ordeal is that sobs echo in the hall, another orgasm rips out of you and you are sure your body releases more liquid than normal for an average orgasm. “Look at how polite and nice she is, hm? While all you want to do is to curse your husband and be an ungrateful little sloth” it sounds as though a newfound annoyance causes him to grit his teeth towards the end and the tip of his fingers finds recourse in seeking for itself a passage past the tight barrier of your unwilling button as a result.

And so your mouth begins to run in the desperate way he loves. “N- No, no, no hubby! No!” You vehemently shake your head as you feel your knees start to buckle from the exhaustion. “I- I didn't mean it!” The bearded corners of his mouth pull into a deep smirk. He knows its coming, and he loves it.

“You didn't?” How can he not when he is the one who trained you to it and taught you the words to say during.

“No! No!” Your voice comes out child-like from your mind's succumbing to its defeat. For the day, at least. “I d- didn't!”

Steve is a jackhammer in how he fucks his children into you and works towards giving you more. “Oh, I see” now he speaks to you like an elder speaking to a young one, like you are no older than five winters. “Then, will you tell me why you said such naughty words to your husband who does so much for you?” He knows you're small now and so he chooses his words accordingly.

After all, it is Steve's meticulous tailoring of your mind and body which brings you to act out this specific sequence.

Nothing less, nothing more.

Just this.

A shrew tamed into a compliant wife equipped with the mind of a babe.

He may never admit it outright simply because it goes against his very code of life but Steve knows in his heart of hearts that it is this very push and pull you put up in your own passive little way that keeps him alert and your marriage interesting.

Addictive.

“Is ’cause— hnnng, cause—!” He pulls both of your bodies back up with the intention of turning you to face him but he chooses not to do it just yet. He wants you, those silly boys and everyone else who suspects that his judgement grows soft because of his fancy for your youthful beauty and adorable personality, to hear it. Steve can always pull you right back down if wants. Your reins will always be in a hand's reach to him. Just because he lets you sneak in your foolish ways sometimes doesn't mean you've conquered his nature-gifted better sense.

“Because, what?” Everything in life calls for balance and so each time your misbehavior that you think you hide so well from him begins to rise above a level he deems no longer amusing, he is there to hammer it down.

Quite literally.

“Because I am j- just an i- impudent,” Steve grunts and moans, feeling his cock twitch from how you always mispronounce imprudent when you are in this state. He taught you that word and true to your little baby self and mind, you can never get yourself to say it right. “Little wife and I am a d- dumby—”

“Fuck…” Steve feels a drop of cold sweat trickle down his back from your little vocabulary. He feels himself pant from how hard he fucks you, his windpipe alight from the friction caused by the air he heaves in with each desperate inhale.

You are a proper trouble; something he has never had before, and he loves it.

“— D- Dumby sloth who dunno any real worries besides e- eating and b- being spoilt b- by my lovu hubbsy—” your tongue is kinetic jelly between your teeth and Steve has begun to moan from how fucked stupid you sound. “So I get shtoopid and u- ungateful” Steve cannot contain it anymore. In a fevered and desperate confusion of how to express the thunderstorm you cause in his head, he slaps your hair away, causing for some of the flowers to go flying about, and sinks his teeth into your flesh, growling so deep into your skin that you feel the vibrations cause ripples in your blood. Perhaps that is what Steve yearns to taste. “B- But husby always fixes” your head goes limp against his as he sucks your skin like a crazed animal for you lose a track of how long. Your vision and hearing bolts away from your comprehensive faculties like a bullet train and your body gets sucked into the vacuum of your husband's beastly grip. You are just a lifeless doll rocking in whichever direction and manner he pleases.

Next time your brain catches on with your reality, your body has been placed under his with your back against the table. You faintly notice when your dress begins to get wet that splashes of mead cover it due to your brutish husband's depraved madness.

“Look at me, hey” he pats your incoherent face until your wandering gaze settles on him, teary eyes distant. “This is the face that you will see in those of your children, and children you shall have until this residence cannot contain any more” his promise echoes in your buzzing ears like the bestowing of an ultimate truth upon you by some powerful deity. “This is the face you will look up at as you spread your legs,” his tip is so swollen, raw and hot against your worn skin that you can feel it even in this state. Your features scrunch from the discomfort. “This is the face you will kiss and cherish” his fingers find your throat again and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he puts pressure on your windpipe. “And this is the face that you will look at until you breathe your last” he holds you until you are on the verge of losing consciousness, though letting go only to stifle the gasp you let out to resume your breathing with a hot sealing kiss.

Your muscles twitch and your body spasms in the position he has you in. Laxness washes over your limbs and you begin to violently shake from the dull and yet stinging quakes of sensation that bloom through your whole form.

For some dark, twisted and depraved reason, you cum from the helplessness of your situation and it is present in Steve's amused and proud smirk that the knowledge is not lost on him. Swiping an arm around you from behind with an air of satisfaction, he collects your limp body closer to his and walks off to your chambers with your drenched sexes still connected, leaving a crowd of embarrassed, curious, satisfied as well as tamed spectators in his wake.

You surrender yourself to him and close your eyes as your body collapses on top of his. Your mind barely works but you know one thing— fact as clear as day; you are not making it out of this without at least one child on the way.

And there isn't a single thing you can do about it.

. . .

191 notes · View notes

cubffections · 12 days

Text

𝒜𝑅𝐼𝒜 、argenti.

cw. hurt / comfort. slight self harm ( nail markings ) & self degradation. just something i written to comfort myself when i feel down, i hope it can also do the same for you. ٜ❤︎

“fair maiden, may i have this dance?”

your watery eyes blinked up at the knight that knelt down before you, a knight who shouldn't be here. a knight who shouldn't be witnessing you tearstained on the floor as you held yourself, struggling to keep it together. “argenti what are you—”

the rose knight held your trembling hands, eyes scanning the dark red nail induced marks that bloomed across your palms. his gaze furrowed as the marks traveled down your wrist, the pang in his heart resembling dozens of thorns circling his torso and plunging into his chest. regardless, he lifted your body up along with him, one arm wrapping firmly around your waist as his fingers laced together with yours. “a waltz you say? what an excellent choice.”

your chest constricted, shame and embarrassment suffocating your system. you didn't know how to face him. a moment of weakness caught by the one person you wished to hide it from, how were you supposed to look him in the eye after such a pathetic display? it had only meant to be for just a little while, a moment to yourself that would’ve been undiscovered and concealed if he had returned a couple minutes later. why did it have to be now?

the waltz was awkward. a word you’d never imagined you’d use to describe the two of you, but the only fitting word for the tuneless dance. his eyes watched you as yours numbly stared everywhere but him, permitting your lily-livered body to be tossed around like a puppet in the capable hands of its puppeteer.

the thorns dug themselves deeper into him, a feeling he kissed goodbye long ago creeping itself in his system. fear— yes that's what it was. he was becoming afraid. afraid if he released you as you stood you’d wither away without a trace. afraid that the lifeless look in your eye would spread to each one of your limbs. afraid that you too would be killed by a sorrow that he could not slay.

“dear flower akin to the gleaming cosmos, what is bringing you sorrow?” argenti cooed, the stars in his eyes twinkling once your solemn gaze finally met his. “even like this your beauty doesn't fade, as said in the teachings of idrila.” he praised, as if worry didn't prickled into each word.

“..i’m not worthy of the beauty’s gaze.” you mutter as the knight dipped you. immediately pressing a loving kiss in the middle of your forehead before he raised you back up. “you're not the one to make that decision." argenti reminded gently, the pace of the waltz picking up as he spun you around the room.

a silence fell between the two of you as the waltz continued, his scarlet hair flowed with yours as his armor whistled a tune. the awkwardness of the waltz slowly faded, soon being replaced with something more familiar and comforting as the two of you mended together. argenti had always been your perfect dance partner. the only one who guided your heart to its lost pieces, and the only one who desired the responsibility of whisking you away from your distasteful thoughts that wished to creep inside your mind.

“forgive me, rose. you saw something unpleasant.” you finally spoke, life weaving back into your movements and eyes. you gazed up with him with the love of a billion stars, a gaze that he’d always return with the gift of a billion roses. “which was?” argenti questioned softly, shaking his head. “expressing yourself is another form of beauty. though i wish you wouldn't harm yourself in the process.” he lifted your arm, pressing a tender kiss in the middle of your palm, then down your wrist.

you nodded with a quiet smile. your once constricted chest now felt as if spring has come after a long winter, and it was being guided by a chivalrous knight who solely craved to see you rise and bloom into the star you are.

“do you feel comfortable confiding in me now, star?” he whispered after he spun and dipped you down once more. the gleaming moonlight soaking your faces through the window as your eyes and hearts met. your gazes were soft and loving as a majestic setting found in the halls of a art museum painted itself before the two of you.

yes . . once again you’ll let this heavy heart go.

#ꪆ 、𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 . ꒱ྀི #𐔌❤︎ ꣓ㅤ ˖ 𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓷𝔁𝓲 ྀི ౿#the title links a song i tie with this fic ! take a listen if you can ♥︎#argenti hsr #argenti x reader #argenti x you #argenti fluff #argenti fic #argenti star rail #argenti imagines #hsr x you #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #hsr argenti #honkai star rail x reader

157 notes · View notes

lila-lou · 8 months

Text

✨ His only exception - Pt. 5/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, soft Ben, injured Reader

Word Count: 3117

A/N: This is part 5 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

After a few minutes, Ben finally had control of himself again. Looking around, he saw the chaos he had caused. "Fuck!", he cursed loudly before looking out for you. For a second the thought that he had killed you overwhelmed him. However, when he heard your weak heartbeat, he immediately ran towards you.

Ben was more than surprised that he had lost control. Of course he wasn't happy at all about what he had just saw. About the fact that you had made such a scene for him last night, but let yourself be touched by that fuckface. Still, he had absolutely not expected such a reaction from himself. What have you done to him?

It all started when he first saw you at Supe Affairs. He knew even then that he wanted you. He had to have you. You were the only reason he came back to Butcher's team, why he didn't blow up all the cocksuckers. When he finally got Butcher to let you join his team and you met him for the first time, his urge to make you his own only grew stronger. He would never forget how you stood in front of him back then. How you started to stutter as he walked up to you and held out his hand to introduce himself, something he didn't do with any of the others. How you bit your bottom lip as your sparkling eyes looked up at him. You barely reached his chest, you were so delicate that he was afraid of breaking you the first time a mission became dangerous and he had to push you out of the way to save you.

However, as you slowly got used to everyone, especially Ben himself, and started showing your true self, he couldn't cope anymore. You had way too big a mouth and absolutely no problem expressing and justifying your opinion until the other person gave up. You were damn smart, able to articulate yourself properly and had the ability to convince anyone without even trying. And fuck, you were cheeky. He liked that most. Your sassy retorts when Butcher approaches you and your snarky comments to Frenchie's nonsensical ideas. He just liked you. And more importantly, he respected you. And that meant more to Soldier Boy than anything else. Even if someone held a gun to your head, you stuck to your fucking attitude. Many might have described you as stubborn, but for Ben it meant being strong and staying true and loyal to the end. Even though you were human. Even though you were just a fucking woman. For him, the weakest creature in the world. He respected you.

From the first moment he had a connection with you that he couldn't explain to himself. And this connection grew stronger hour by hour, day by day. Until yesterday when he finally lost his self-control.

When Ben saw you in the rubble of the bar, he almost felt guilty. As carefully as he could, he picked you up from the ground and held you lightly to his chest. You were unconscious. Your legs and arms hung limply from your body as he carried you to the car.

“I got you”, he murmured.

At that moment he didn't care about anything. He didn't care that he screwed up the plan, he didn't care that the deep escaped, he just wanted you to be okay.

While he held you with one hand, he used the other to push the seat into a reclining position before placing you on it. For a moment he just looked at you. Your face and body were covered in dust and small scratches, your sprained wrist was definitely broken now, as were some of your ribs. He was sure that despite your injuries and pain, you would insult him, scream at him or even be mad at him. That was the last thing he wanted. Ben didn't want to hurt you in any way, and yet he did. It was unintentional, but unfortunately it didn't change the end result.

Ben got behind the wheel, started the car and drove to your apartment. He knew your life wasn't in danger because he heard that all of your organs were functioning normally. You had hardly lost any blood either.It seemed like the force of the explosion had thrown you too hard against a wall.

After a while you started to move. “Ben?”, your voice was weak and you were more than disoriented. “Yeah?". His large, heavy hand found its way to your thigh, where it lingered as his thumb repeatedly stroked up and down your soft skin. You blinked a few times before looking at Ben, who was watching you with a blank expression, even though he was still driving.

“Ugh…my head hurts”, you grumbled, narrowing your eyes. "What…what happened? Why did you blew up?".

Ben just took a deep breath and looked back at the road before removing his hand from your thigh. A familiar silence filled the car, broken only by your panting as you tried to sit up.

“Don´t fucking move. You probably broke a rib or two".

"Yeah, it feels like that".

You didn't exchange another word the entire drive home. Instead, you kept looking at each other, trying to read each other's minds, but even more wanting to make sure the other was okay. He wanted to make sure you didn't suffer any more serious injuries while you kept an eye on Ben for fear he might explode again.

After almost half an hour, Ben parked the car in front of the apartment. As Ben unbuckled himself, you spoke up. "I thought you had it under control?". No answer. Ben stood up, walked around the car and picked you up before you tried any longer to somehow get out of the car. As he carried you in like a bride, you looked at him from below.

"Don't look at me like that", he grumbled, his voice deeper and rougher than before.

Just as Ben was placing you down on the living room couch, Butcher stormed in with Hughie.

“I almost had him!”, Butcher shouted, ripping off his jacket and carelessly throwing it towards the armchair.

“Almost had it? Are you kidding me?! If I hadn't pushed you away, you would have been cut in half by now!", Hughie scolded back before spotting you and Ben.

"What happened?", he immediately asked in shock, walking towards you. "Fucking perfect! So, no Homelander and no fucking Fishcunt either", Butcher raised his hand, waved off and went into the kitchen to get a beer.

A soft, pained groan escaped you as you slowly sat up. While Hughie's worried gaze was on you, Butcher stared at Ben from the kitchen as he sipped his beer. “The plan didn’t quite work”, you mumbled, but as you answered, you continued to stare at Ben, who maintained your eye contact before straightening up. “She’s fine”, Ben commented. “I'm going to take a shower”, he added and disappeared into the bathroom.

“Oi, what happened?”, Butcher joined you and Hughie and held out a beer to both of you.

“Kevin knew all too quickly that something was off. As he and Ben were fighting, I somehow got in the way”, you lied, looking at your broken wrist. “And the cunt won or what?”, Butcher asked incredulously. “No, but… Ben helped me and Kevin was able to escape”, you mumbled. “Well fucking shit”, Butcher cursed. “Hopefully MM and the others had better luck”.

Butcher didn’t believe a single word you said, but he was still too angry at Hughie and himself to pursue your lies any further.

“You really should see a doctor (y/n)”, Hughie took your injured wrist. “You need a ride?”.

You just shook your head in response. Your nerves were on edge and all you wanted to do was to hide under the covers. "It's not that bad… I… should sleep, my head is buzzing and everything hurts… wake me up when there's news from the others, okay?". Hughie narrowed his eyes briefly before he sighed. “Lie down in my room. At least you’ll have some peace and quiet”. You nodded gratefully at him before disappearing into Hughie’s room.

The next time you opened your eyes it was pitch black. You sat up sluggishly and weakly and took slow steps towards the living room. You feel like you're being run over. Your forehead was beaming, your face was red and your eyes were glassy as you saw Ben on the sofa with a bottle of whiskey. "Where are the others?", You asked quietly, leaning on the armrest of the sofa. "They have A-Train. Trying to get something out of him", he grumbled, still looking at the television. Your legs started shaking and your vision blurred. It felt like your body was burning. “Ben, I think…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before you collapsed. Ben's quick reaction prevented you from hitting the floor. “Alright, I got you drama queen”, Ben murmured as he caught you.

“Hey, (y/n)”, he tried to wake you up by lightly slapping your cheek a few times

However, when Ben heard your weakening heartbeat, he actually became slightly nervous. He focused on you and your body. A few seconds passed before he heard blood running down inside your upper body.

"Fuck", he cursed loudly. While you were already unconscious, Ben thought about what to do. He fought with himself for a bit, but he knew that no matter what he decided, time was running out.

“It’ll either kill you or it’ll help you”, Ben muttered to himself before taking Butcher’s injection kit and pushed you onto the couch with him.

By now it was a race against time. One of your broken ribs must have punctured your organs and the fact that you were still alive was a miracle.

Ben was sure you wouldn't survive an operation, let alone the drive to a hospital.

As your breathing and heartbeat grew weaker, Ben cut his wrist and collected the blood that dripped from the cut in a mug. Due to his fast healing, it took a few tries before he had enough blood. “Come on (y/n). You can do that”, he whispered hastily, pulling your almost lifeless body onto his lap and sucking up its blood with a syringe. Without further ado, Ben tore your shirt off your body and felt your vena cava with his fingertips. When he felt the strong pulsation, he positioned the tip and hoped for the best as he pushed the needle through your soft skin and pumped his blood into your bloodstream.

If Ben hadn't been so focused on you, he might not have missed how hard his own heart was racing as he waited for his blood to take effect.

“C´mon, Sweetheart”, Ben almost whispered as he held you in his arms, stroking your cheek with his blood-stained fingers. If you died now, it would be his fault. Your life would be over because he would have lost self-control.

He bit his lip nervously, his eyes glued to your face. No one should ever see him like that. He was afraid. Afraid for a small, weak human. Afraid for a fucking woman. What did you do to him to make him soft enough to care about you? To care about anything than himself.

He knew he had to put an end to it all. Soldier Boy couldn't be vulnerable. He couldn't have any weak spot at all.

After a few minutes that felt like hours, you suddenly jumped violently, inhaled sharply, and sat upright on Ben's thigh. Your eyes were big and sparkled blue for a few seconds. Shocked and overwhelmed, you rubbed your chest where you felt a strong tugging sensation. Only then did you notice that you no longer had a shirt on. “What the…” you breathed, confused. Your hand slid to your temple, which was throbbing like it was about to explode.

“How you feeling?", Ben looked at you from the side, his eyebrows furrowed. One of his arms was still around your waist. He was just relieved that you were still breathing.

“I…I think”, you started, but the pulsing of your heart interrupted you. The voices on the TV, Ben's breathing, the sound of his thumb stroking your thigh - it all overstained your thoughts. You pressed your palms against your ears, your face contorted in pain. "Make it stop", you begged. With each beg your voice became shriller, more and more tears ran down your cheeks while Ben looked at you disturbed.

“What should I stop?”.

“The noises!”.

The realization was written all over Ben's face. He looked around, wondering how he should help you, before finally knocking you out with a well-aimed blow to the temple.

“Sleep well, sweetheart”, he chuckled, sliding you onto the sofa so only your head was on his lap and pulling the blanket over you. You had some side effects, but that was probably part of becoming a supe this way.

24 hours.

You were asleep until you were rudely awakened by the sweet roar of Butcher and Soldier Boy.

"I didn't fucking kill her!", Ben growled angrily. “It’s been 24 hours! And (y/n) looks absolutely anything but alive!”, Butcher bitched back.

When the rest of the team came home yesterday and Ben told what he had to do, none of the others believed that he really wanted to save you with his half-hearted and hasty action, but he couldn't admit what he had felt in that moment. Not to himself and especially not to Butcher and the rest of the gang.

“I know what your bloody plan is. You've wanted to make her a supe since you first saw her. You think she would be looser and easier then. That she finally lets you into her panties. But I can promise you mate, it won’t work on (y/n)”, Butcher hissed. Ben laughed bitterly and derogatory. “You’re fucking delusional”.

Ben paused for a moment. Unfortunately, Butcher had a point. It would really be an advantage if you were no longer human. No longer easily breakable. But those weren't the reasons why Ben gave you his blood. Not at that moment.

“She would be dead if I hadn’t given her my fucking blood”, Ben insisted.

“Why the hell was she even hurt in the first place? I assigned her specifically to you because I thought if anyone could protect her, it would be America’s ex-golden boy!”.

“You fucking going to start this again?”, Soldier Boy approached Butcher threateningly and stood in front of him. The two of them were so busy measuring the length of their cocks that they didn't notice you slowly sitting up in Soldier Boy's bed. You could hear everything, but it took a while for not only your head but also your body to come back alive.

“Well, that’s a lot of testosterone for a small country like this”, you whispered in a husky voice, catching the attention of the two alpha monkeys.

“Oi, you’re alive. What a damn nice surprise”.

Even though Butcher was talking to you, half-heartedly asking about your well-being, your eyes were on Ben. It still felt like your brain was swimming in your head, so you attributed the tightness in your chest you felt as you looked at Ben to the side effects of… whatever.

“I’m feeling much better, thanks”, you murmured, continuing to maintain eye contact with Ben.

"What happened? Like… after the mission went terribly wrong".

As Ben lowered his head slightly to look away from you, you looked around the room. You were in Ben's room.

"Well, young lady, the twisted Dracula here can tell you", Butcher clapped Ben's shoulders from behind with both hands before leaving the room without another word, knowing full well that if his hands touched Soldier Boy two more seconds, he would have literally ripped his head off.

“Ben?”, you whispered after a few minutes of silence.

He heard your heartbeat and his switch turned.

"You fainted. I gave you my blood. You're alive”. His voice was as monotonous as his facial expression. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before asking. "What do you mean fainted and you gave me your… blood?“.

Ben rolled his eyes dramatically as always. He was so annoyed with this world today and the fact that everyone was so slow to understand anything or always had to question everything.

“You’re not that fucking stupid, are you? Do I really have to explain every little thing to you now?.

Your look probably said more than a thousand words as Ben groaned in annoyance, crossed his arms and explained to you exactly what had happened.

“I injected you my blood to prevent you from dying. Apparently, it worked. You're still breathing", he shrugged.

"Wait. You didn't know if this would work? Are you kidding me?”.

“Do you think one of my hobbies is to distribute my blood like a sperm donor? The last time I provided my DNA to someone, they bred this fucking son of a bitch. So, no. I didn't know if it would work. And yet, I saved your fucking life! How about a fucking thank you?!”, Ben hissed and took a few steps towards you.

“Did you miss the fact that I broke my ribs just because of you?”, you replied, now also with your arms crossed.

You stood facing each other. So close you could feel the warmth radiating from his chest.

“Why did you lose control in the bar?”. You wanted an answer more than anything.

Ben knew the answer to your question. It was on the tip of his tongue. But he knew it wouldn't change anything. And even if…then what? You thought so poorly of him that you didn't even wanted to kiss him. You were so disgusted with him that you never wanted him to touch you. What on fucking earth would make you let him call you his own?

“Uhhh, there's a lot of tension here, mes chéris. You should definitely talk to each other…naked is best”, Frenchie chuckled as he came in to check you were okay.

———————————

A/N: I'm not a supe-doc, so I had to get creative😅

Hmmm, what could happen in the next chapter? Probably not what you expect 🫣

Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 6

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #spn #billy butcher #hughie campbell #the boys hughie #frenchie #soft

488 notes · View notes

ho-for-joequinn-fics · 2 months

Text

I know I said I wasn’t going to write anything else for this blog, buuuuut... I just had to get this idea out of my head.

Emperor Geta x f!servant reader

warnings: 18+ only! Minors DNI! mean!Geta (ofc), face slapping, insulting names (bitch, cunt, whore), degradation, oral (forced throat fucking), spanking, unprotected p in v smut, rough sex, creampie, profanity (obvi 💀), a happy ending yay for both Geta and Reader yay!, etc

You were a mere servant, never really caring to catch the attention of either of the Emperors, but unbeknownst to you, you had caught the undivided attention of one. Emperor Geta.

To you, Geta was a power hungry and extremely pompous asshole. And you weren’t afraid to say so. You’d never say it to his face though, knowing the consequences could quite possibly end with your demise, and you weren’t ready for death yet.

“I think he’s into you,” Mabel, one of your fellow servants, whispered while the two of you organized Emperor Geta’s wardrobe, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “You should see the way he looks at you.”

“Who?” You asked, hoping she wasn’t about to say who you thought she was going to say.

“Emperor Geta.” She responded with a sheepish smile, hanging up one of his robes in its respective place.

You scoffed at that, giving your head a shake as you responded in a not as hushed manner. “I sure hope to the gods that he isn’t. Geta is a pompous asshole. I’d love to smack that cocky smirk off of his stupid fucking face.”

You noticed the way her body language and demeanor immediately shifted, back straightened and eyes wide as she seemed to stare behind you. He’s behind me, isn’t he? You slowly turned around towards where her gaze was fixed, mentally slapping yourself for expressing your feelings about Emperor Geta right in front of him. You didn’t even realize he was in the room.

He was giving you a displeased glare, pupils blackened as he seemingly burned a hole right through you. “Come here. Right now.” He demanded, his pointer finger pointing towards the floor directly in front of him, ready to fix that disrespectful mouth of yours.

“Make me.” You scoffed, turning away from him to continue your work. You weren’t about to give in to his demands when you were trying to finish your duties that he assigned you in the first place. “Pompous asshole.”

Mabel gasped at your disobedience, her gaze dropping to her feet when Emperor Geta stomped his way over to you. She’d never speak to him like that, she knew better and she feared him more than anyone in all of Rome.

Geta grabbed you by the arm and forcefully spun you around, his ringed hand laying a harsh, reprimanding smack across your face. Your head whipped to the side from the force, but you weren’t going to back down. Not yet. “You better watch your tongue, you disrespectful little bitch. I own you, so you will do as I fucking say. Got it?”

You stared up at him with defiant orbs, your fists clenched by your sides to prevent yourself from smacking him like you so desperately wanted. You could have apologized and moved on from this, but you enjoyed egging him on, wanting to see how far you could push him and if your disobedience would get you killed after all. Or if he was into you like Mabel suspected, then maybe he’d make an exception. Maybe he’d someway, somehow start to like this defiant side of yours. “Own me? You don’t, own me. I belong to no one but myself. You just think you own me because you’re a self righteous dick with power.”

Geta took in a deep breath through his nose, jaw clenching tightly at your continued disobedience. You used to be so innocent, so obedient to his every demand, what happened to that version of you? If only he knew you were intentionally getting under his skin. “If you’re going to run your mouth like a cunt, then I’m going to treat you as such.”

Immediately he was forcing you onto your knees, giving your face another harsh slap when you tried standing back up. “Stay on your fucking knees. If you’ve got nothing of value to say, then I’m going to put this mouth to better use.” He quickly freed his cock from beneath his tunic and robe, thankfully not wearing his armor at this very moment.

You had to prevent yourself from widening your eyes at how endowed he was, not wanting to give him that ego boost when his ego was already through the roof. His shaft was girthy and long, and the vein running along the length of it was visibly throbbing already. Maybe I should have disrespected him way before now if this is what I get in return.

“Open your fucking mouth and don’t make me tell you twice.” He growled, grabbing your face in his hand and squeezing your cheeks hard enough to get you to part your lips for him. As soon as your jaw dropped open, he was forcing his cock into your mouth, groaning deeply when he hit the back of your throat. “Hollow your cheeks, whore.”

You automatically choked on his cock once he reached the back of your throat, hollowing your cheeks and taking a deep breath through your nose just before he started ruthlessly thrusting back and forth, choking even more when he reached to plug your nose thus cutting off any possible supply of oxygen you could get. Maybe he is going to kill me. At least I’ll go out with his cock down my throat.

“Look at you, already choking on my cock and I’ve only just started.” He mused with a snarky smirk, making you roll your eyes in mock annoyance. His hand gripped on your hair at the back of your head while his hips repeatedly snapped forward, using his grip to force your face to meet each thrust down your throat, smirking even wider when it pulled a garbled moan from your throat. “Oh you like that, huh you filthy whore? You like it when I violate your throat? Hm?”

You couldn’t help it, you moaned even louder, your eyes rolling into the back of your head for different reasons now. You hated to admit it, but the way he was throat fucking you with no remorse had you dripping, your pussy pulsating with each inconsiderate thrust down your throat. As much as you wanted to take a breath through your nose, you couldn’t, so you tried with all your mental and physical energy to stay conscious while he took his frustration towards you out.

Geta kept his gaze on your face as he forced himself down your throat, a wider smirk tugging at his lips when he noticed tears started to spill from the corner of your eyes. He wondered to himself if this was making you learn your lesson or if you were going to continue pushing his buttons to see what else he would do to you. He couldn’t deny it, your defiance which led to this moment made him hope you would test him some more, especially since your mouth and throat felt divine. He could only imagine how your cunt felt.

You snapped your gaze back on him when your lungs started to burn from lack of oxygen, looking up at him with eyes begging him to let you breathe, your fingers gripping onto his pristine robes to prevent yourself from collapsing. “Mmf!” You whimpered, one of your hands moving to wrap around the wrist of his hand still plugging your nose.

Geta took the hint and released your nostrils from between his fingers, letting you catch your breath through your nose while he continued abusing your throat with his cock. He watched as the color of your face returned to normal now that oxygen returned to your lungs, but your tears still resumed spilling down your face. “If you’d listened to me the first time, I wouldn’t have been so cruel while I throat fucked some respect into you.”

You narrowed your eyes to glare up at him, lifting your hand to give him the middle finger which only had him grinning sadistically. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but part of you felt that your life wasn’t on the line, he was just really going to put you in your place if you continued your disobedient acts towards him.

He suddenly pulled his cock out of your mouth, allowing you ample opportunity to take multiple deep breaths to fully satiate your lungs while he glanced over at his other servants who were trying their best to ignore what was happening. “Leave us.” He ordered, waiting until the few of them scurried out of his chambers and the doors closed behind them.

Now your heart was pounding in your chest, hoping to the gods that he wasn’t going to kill you now that the two of you were alone. You hissed when he yanked you off the floor by the hair and forced you to look at him, him smirking at how swollen your lips had become from being wrapped around his cock. Gods he’s so cocky.

“You are very lucky that you’re my favorite. If it had been one of those servants who just left to disrespect me like this, their throats would have been slit the moment their disrespectful thoughts left their mouth.” His eyes roamed your face as he spoke, before he was dragging you over towards his bed and forcefully bending you over it. “Now you’re going to lay here like the obedient girl I know you can be while I deliver a well deserved punishment and you’re going to apologize for your blatant disrespect as I do so, got it?”

“Yes, Augustus.”

Geta grinned impishly at that, finally seeing an inkling of obedience from you again. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? Keep that up and I’ll have forgotten all about your disobedience in no time.” His hands gripped onto the fabric of your skirts and yanked them upwards before moving to your undergarment beneath and ripping it in two right off of you, giving his lips a lick at the sight of your plush ass cheeks.

You gasped at the sheer strength in his actions, biting down on your bottom lip as his fingers started tracing along your supple flesh before letting out a loud cry when his hand came down with a hard whack. “I-I’m sorry, Augustus!” You gasped, bracing yourself for the second smack you knew was coming, crying out again when it was received.

“I’m sorry Augustus for...?” He inquired, wanting a detailed apology and nothing less.

“I-I’m sorry for disrespecting you! For calling you such mean things, for not obeying your commands, for...for intentionally getting under your skin to see how far I could push you!” Your cries grew louder when his spanks grew more harsh, fresh tears spilling down your face all over again.

“And...?”

“And I’m sorry for saying you don’t own me! I-I’m yours! All yours, Augustus! I belong to you and you only! I-I’ll do anything you ask of me, like an obedient servant does!” You braced for more spanks, but they never came. Letting out a shaky breath, you dared to look over your shoulder, finding Geta staring down at you with something new in his eyes.

“You’ll give me my heir, that’s what you’ll do for me.” He gave you no warning before he was slamming his entire length inside you, your scream so loud, your pleasure could be mistaken for murder. A guttural moan erupted from his throat when he felt how tight and wet you were, his fingers digging into your hips as he started repeatedly slamming his cock in and out of you. “Fuck, I’ve never felt a more perfect cunt in my life. She’s all mine now. Say it!”

“She’s all yours, Augustus! All yours!” You squealed as you took every harsh thrust of his cock into you, the pain mixed with pleasure a feeling you never wanted to forget. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head with each ram against your cervix, fists clenched tightly into his sheets while you started squeezing around his cock. “Right there! Right there!”

Geta groaned at the way your walls squeezed around his cock, repeatedly aiming for that exact spot so they’d continue to do so, needing the added pleasure to coax him closer to his release. He wasn’t going to stop fucking you until you were filled to the brim with his seed. “Keep fucking squeezing me, going to claim my perfect cunt by filling her with my cum.”

You did just as he demanded, giving squeeze after squeeze after squeeze around his cock while he ruthlessly fucked you until finally he was tossing his head back with a roar and filling you with thick, heavy loads of his cum just as you coated his cock with your own cum. You buried your face into his bedding with a mewl as he filled you, not stopping your squeezes until he told you to.

“That’s enough.” He hissed after a minute, slowly pulling out of you once your vise-like clenches ceased and allowed him to easily slip out of you. He rolled you over onto your back after a moment before lifting you up to place you further up his bed, grabbing one of his pillows and using it to raise your hips up so not a single drop of his seed would go to waste. “Now you stay right here while I go tend to some important matters. Don’t let anything drip out of you, okay? Gotta be sure my seed takes.”

You gave your head a nod, watching as he fixed himself up while a thousand thoughts started swimming around your mind. You couldn’t stand him this morning, but now he was everything you could ever need. Did this change things between the two of you? Did he really want a servant to be the one to bear him his heir? Were you more than just a servant to him now? You needed to know.

“Augustus...” You whispered, nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you prepared yourself for the questions you had.

“Hmm?” He inquired, tossing your destroyed undergarments to the floor after cleaning his cock of your cum before tucking it back beneath his tunic.

“You don’t really want me to be the one to bear your heir, do you? I’m just a lousy servant... Don’t you want someone of a higher status to be the one to do so?” You frowned, your gaze refusing to meet his as you fiddled with your thumbs.

Geta sighed, moving to sit down beside you on the bed and reaching for your hands to still their anxious movements. “Look at me.” He commanded in a more gentle tone now, waiting for you to look up at him before continuing. “You’re not just a lousy servant. I’ve been wanting to make you more than that since your parents sold you into servitude, I just had to wait for the proper time to do so.”

“Really?” You blushed, completely taken aback by his confession.

“I did tell you you’re my favorite and I didn’t mean as a servant, I meant in general. I knew you were special when I first laid eyes on you.” He chuckled, bringing your knuckles to his lips for a kiss. “I’m sorry if I was too hard on you earlier. I just, I don’t take too kindly to that level of disrespect and when you kept pushing, my resolve snapped. I wasn’t expecting my favorite girl to say such cruel things about me.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, a soft frown on your face. “I only thought those things about you because I still have so much pent up anger over my parents selling me to be a servant. I guess I just never gave you the chance to prove yourself to be more than what you show yourself to be to everyone else in Rome.”

“Will you give me that chance now? Will you let me show you that there’s more to me than meets the eye?”

“Of course.” You smiled, your breath catching in your throat when he cupped your cheek and leaned in to press a deep kiss to your lips, your hands cupping his face as you kissed him in return.

“Thank you. I promise you, you will not be disappointed.” He breathed into the space between your mouths as he rested his forehead against yours. “I have some things I need to tend to right now, but I promise come tomorrow, you will no longer be a servant.”

Geta held true to his promises, proving to you that deep down he had more than a heart of stone, and turning you from the servant you were sold to be into the Empress you were destined to be. You never would have anticipated marrying the man you once despised, but now you wouldn’t change it for a thing.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 🩷 This was annoyingly difficult for me to write because I just couldn’t get the words to flow how I wanted, so I hope you enjoyed how it turned out 🥺

Tagging some Emperor Geta sluts 🩷 @nailbatanddungeon @usergeta @somethingvicked @ceriseheaven @littlexdeaths @3rd-conchord @jasminelafleur @eddiesxangel

#emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x f!reader #emperor geta x servant!reader #emperor geta blurb #emperor geta smut #emperor geta #gladiator 2 #joseph quinn #joe quinn

186 notes · View notes