#toxic and i'm slipping under | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bi-writes · 7 months

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mercenary!ghost is dead inside. he wonders what it leaves behind on his pretty little bunny.

notes about reader: as always, reader is curvy and ghost knows exactly what he wants to do with all that ass

more mercenary!ghost (part 2/?)

word count: 5k

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, pet names (luv, pet, bunny + rabbit, puppy), dark!ghost, mean!ghost, toxic!ghost, ghost is thicc, mentions of violence and gore + murder and extortion, mw3 spoilers, mentions of ghost's canon trauma, tw smoking, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink (reader described as much smaller, manhandled easily), suggestive touching and oral (fem!receiving), cumplay, mentions of dubcon but relationship/dynamics are consensual, simon "i eat pussy like a god" riley

his phone is ringing. it surprises him, the sound of it. it's not familiar, to hear it ring, to see a name on the screen of it and recognize it.

there was no one left to call. not until now.

he adjusts his hold on his rifle, slipping an earbud into his ear.

"'ello?"

"almost back yet?" it's you. rattling your cage.

"'m busy."

"i know--" he clicks his tongue when you say this, annoyed. "but you're not back yet."

"i'll be back when i'm back."

"yeah, but when is that?"

brat.

"'s this how it's gonna be? botherin' me when 'm out?"

"uh huh. so when are you gonna be back?"

"when 'm back."

you huff at that, and ghost snarls a bit under the mask, adjusting the scope and peering through it. there is movement, and he focuses. then your soft voice sounds again, "are you with someone else?"

there's a grunt, and then a firm, "no." and it is the truth, and you know it is, because he doesn't care enough to lie to you. you sigh on the other end, staring up at the ceiling with a wobbly bottom lip.

"we done 'ere?" he asks after a long pause. you sniffle, closing your eyes.

"take me with you next time."

he hangs up before he answers. needy little puppy he has, he knows this. he isn't unfamiliar with this kind of dynamic. it wasn't unlike the job he used to have--a lieutenant, a man in charge, in command of other needy puppies that needed to be put in their place. he wonders often if johnny would have liked you, but you are enough trouble as it is on your own.

a pet dies and another is bought; whatever ghost is, he outlives them.

he attracts them, he thinks. the ones who ache to belong. from the first moment he met you, he knows that is why he felt his blood run a little warmer at the sight of you--it is something in your eyes, something he recognizes, something that he knows tastes so fucking good. there is predator, and there is prey, and then there is the in-between. the purgatory of those who have no idea who they are. they must be shown. they have to be taught, and if they fall into the wrong hands, they are mangled and chewed through.

he wonders for a moment if maybe his mother was one of them. then he remembers that it doesn't matter what she was, because his father had black running through his veins. the same black that simon thinks he sees in the mirror--and sometimes it bleeds onto his face, he swears it's there, hiding underneath the eye-black he paints on himself.

when he was younger, he used to hide from his reflection because of it. the rot of the other half that he was made of, it terrified him. he feared being consumed by it. he was afraid of letting it show, he was afraid of scaring other people.

but when he crawled himself out of his early grave and buried the good half of himself, he didn't flinch in the mirror any longer. he let himself linger there, and when he swiped the black against his pale skin for the first time, he remembers thinking that maybe it had always been there. that he doesn't recognize himself without it because this is what i am, something made of ash, something that shouldn't be here, the remnants of something that touched a flame too hot and swallowed something foul. rancid.

and maybe that is what he's been doing since then--maybe that is what the hollow place is that he feels inside, maybe it's the half that he buried that he wishes so fucking badly to hold onto because it's the only thing that distracted him from feeling like the thing that he truly is. and maybe that is why he died again when johnny did; it was too late to realize that the hollowness is back, and it is deeper, and it hurts now, fuck, take it back, take it away--

and maybe that is why he hates you in some way. because the space is gone. it is filled again; and you fit so perfectly there, and it will happen again, and he has no idea how many more times he can lose the redeemable half of him until there is nothing left to redeem.

but black still runs in his veins, and he is selfish, and he will hold onto it until it's gone. he doesn't care. he is a thing, he is not real, and it doesn't matter to him if he will die again when you do, because while he has you, he will drink what you give him. salvation, redemption, painting his blood red, whatever the fuck it is that you are meant to give him, he will take it, and he will devour it, and he doesn't care what he leaves behind.

he wants it. it's selfish, it's cruel, but he wants it. everything he touches fades away; if he was something real, he would cut you off. but he isn't, and he doesn't care, and he's curious to know what the stain of himself will look like on you.

beautiful you. such a pretty girl. soft like a bunny, glittering eyes--if he was a poet, he might say they are filled with starlight. but ghost is a predator; the shine of you only makes his mouth water.

you were his the moment he saw you for the very first time. he was not inclined to ask your permission, but it wouldn't have mattered--he knew as soon as your eyes met, really met, that he had you. hook, line, and sinker--there it is, there she is, what she really is inside. there is a light there inside of you, he could see it.

he is going to snuff it out. he doesn't know why, but he will, because he wants to. he has an urge to kill something, and he thinks whatever it is that swims in you will do just fine. he knows, somehow, that you will look beautiful covered in it--in the tears when he breaks, when he tears, when he destroys, you will look beautiful, and he won't stop until he takes all of it. he knows, too, he doesn't know how he knows but he knows, that you will let him.

he crossed another name off his list today. he watched them on a lonely rooftop all morning, and it rained. he watched them move back and forth, between doorways, answering phone calls. he doesn't ask questions, so he wonders occasionally what it is they did to warrant a visit from him.

they could've stolen. maybe they betrayed; that is a popular motivation. lovers' quarrels--he knows what it is to die for love, but dying for love at the wrong end of his rifle isn't in marriage vows. maybe they were in the wrong place at the wrong time; maybe they saw what they shouldn't have, and it was enough for a visit from their guardian angel.

sometimes he thinks that what he does is at their mercy; because if he didn't do it, if he didn't make it so quick, so easy, they would suffer. at least this way, by his hand, they would never know. he brings comfort. ease.

it is the same with you, it has to be. he closes his fist and bangs on the outside of your door. the wood rattles under the force, and when you open the door, the look that you give him only solidifies his assumption. if it wasn't him keeping you, then it would be someone else. someone else would look into those eyes, and they would take from you, but they wouldn't be like him. he takes, and he will take, but you won't know that you are empty until it's too late.

that is merciful, isn't it? this kind of love is forgiving, right? the kind that shields, the white lies that protect, that blindfold that hides--this is humane. he is a thing, a predator, yes, but he isn't like the others.

right?

you step aside, and he has to maneuver his shoulders to make it past the narrow doorway. as you close the door, your eyes linger. he wears a dark rain jacket over a long sleeve, dark cargo pants tucked into heavy boots. he wears a holster on one meaty thigh, but it only holds a small pack there. his balaclava is plain, hiding all but his dark eyes, and the hood of his jacket casts a long shadow over him. the gloves he wears are of a utility variety--he worked today. if you ask him, he will say yes, but he will not tell you anything else.

sometimes, you aren't sure if he just doesn't care or if he is trying to protect you from some ugly truth. but then you remember that there are no ugly truths with ghost; the truth is as it is, nothing more and nothing less, and if he hides it from you, it is because you simply don't need to know.

you lock the door behind you, leaning against it. he moves through your apartment with ease. he has been here before, but it feels as if he has always been here. he knows how to rattle the balcony door to get the lock to free, and you don't remember showing him how to unlatch it. you busy yourself with putting the kettle to boil as you see him light a match, a cigarette between two gloved fingers.

it's a nasty vice. it blackens the lungs, shrinks the organ, addicts the user. but it tastes good. and it feels good. and it isn't what will kill him, because this isn't real.

you come outside, a mug of tea in your hand, and you set it down beside him. he flicks ash off the cigarette, spreading his legs wide as he sits there, watching the street below. it's quiet because it's raining, and while the balcony is covered, it wets the toes of his boots.

he looks so good. he spreads himself out in the chair, taking up so much space, and his hand that doesn't hold the cigarette is spread out along his thigh, running absentmindedly down the material of his pants. it's hard to describe the breadth of him--ghost is just big. his hands, the height of him, the space that you can tuck yourself into his chest. he could curl you around his arm, wrap you up with both of them, trap you there. you don't hate the thought of that, the idea of him keeping you there like that. you think about the width of his hand, how it might look with the black of his glove spread out across your throat, holding you there, keeping you there.

you think about what it would be like to be under his mercy. his control. to feel the press of those fingers against the hollow of your throat, knowing he could crush your windpipe with just one perfectly placed squeeze. he would know where to touch. he would know where to tug just right to cut the air off.

it's too bad you didn't know you already belonged to him.

"can i have some?"

you nod to the cigarette burning in his hand. his eyes flicker up to look at you for a moment before he adjusts in the chair. he shrugs finally.

"'f you want."

you put a hand on his shoulder, lowering yourself to sit on his lap. you wear nothing except for a loose shirt, one that covers you to your thighs, but when you sit, it rides up. he takes the weight of you easily, not looking strained in the slightest, one arm supporting the thickness of your thighs with a firm grasp.

you lean forward a little, into him, and he brings the cigarette to your lips. you wrap your lips around it, taking a breath. you want to revel in that fact that you're putting your lips around something his own have touched, and then you start to cough.

the air burns. you turn your head to the side and wheeze; you hear a condescending chuckle, and you go warm with embarrassment. but his hand rubs small circles into your back, coaxing the smoke out of your lungs. you take in a few strong breaths to clear the smoke, and then you look away from him.

"not a smoker, eh?"

"that was...my first time."

when your head turns back to face him shyly, he tilts his head to the side. you cannot see any of his expression, but you imagine he's curious. the way his eyes look you up and down tell you that much.

"wot, you saw me do it, 'n ya think y'can take it?"

you don't respond, just keep your eyes on his. your fingers move, spreading across the solidity of his chest, and you rest them there. you lean in a little more, your face only a few mere inches from his own, and it gives you an opportunity to examine him so close.

his mask is weathered, the skull mouth painted along the mouth a little faded and messy with wear. he smells like cigarettes and earth, wet soil and ash and something warm. the eye-black that is smeared across his eyes fades out at the edges, and the paleness of his skin peeks out a little. you know the black covers the tiredness under his eyes, the lines that must be set in his face from how much he frowns. he has blonde lashes and dark eyes, and what intrigues you the most is that you can see the jagged edge of a healed scar peeking out from under the fabric that hides him.

he frowns, and you see the furrowing of the skin underneath. you meet his eyes again, and it feels surreal to see him in this much detail. you don't think this is a common occurrence; you have a feeling that anyone that has ever gotten this close to him did not live to talk about it the next day.

he has never told you, but you know death follows him. you have never seen what war has done to him, you can't see the rough skin and the patches where skin has been shredded or torn off, but you know, sitting so close to him, that he leaves bodies behind him and terrifies the ones that approach.

you wonder if you should be afraid, but then you remember that if he wanted to kill you, he would have done it by now. he does not want to kill you.

he wants to eat you.

you have asked him once what he does for work. he said he used to work for the military, but he didn't say anymore. when you asked what he did now, he said he was an independent contractor.

a contractor for what, you did not get the answer to. just that he was his own boss now, and no one told him what to do anymore.

"what did you do today?" you ask him finally, reaching up timidly and slipping a thumb down the line of his strong jaw.

"work."

"and how was it?"

he does not answer, and your eyes flicker back up to his, studying his reaction. he doesn't give one, just eyes the line of your throat as you swallow hard.

"a good pay day then?" you ask, and he hums at that. you smile a little, reaching up with both hands and cupping his masked cheeks gently. "must be good at what you do."

his face flickers a bit at that. he sniffs, looking to the side before back at you, shrugging those broad shoulders of his. one of his big hands comes up and slips up the shirt you wear, gripping your ass firm.

"good at other things, too," is all he says, and you smooth one of your thumbs down the row of painted teeth along the mouth of the mask. his breath comes out warm under your thumb.

"like killing people?"

his hand stiffens against you, and he glares up at you. a huff of a breath comes out, and you tense a little. he flicks the cigarette onto the ground, reaching up with that hand and gripping you around the jaw. your face fits nicely in his hand, and you might enjoy it if it wasn't so aggressive, the way he touched you. he shakes you a little, bringing you close enough that you can feel the wetness of his snarl against your lips.

"that wot y'think i am? some kind o'murderer?" he spits. "think 'm some kind o'fuckin' killer?"

a wave of tears prick the sides of your eyes, and you grip his wrist tight, trying to keep the pressure off of you.

"i know what you do," you whisper. "i know what you do, it's pretty obvious."

"yeah? 'n ya think it's a good idea to fuckin' talk t'me this way? ask me questions you don't want the answers to?"

you narrow your eyes, and you stare back at him, matching the intensity of his own. this makes him laugh; there is no humor in his laugh, but he laughs, and he rattles your whole head as he brings you close enough that your lips brush against the fabric of his mask.

"oh...you want me to tell ya...want me to spill all my bloody secrets..." he growls. you let out a whine when he brings you even closer, smashing your lips against the front of his mask. you choke out a whimper, and you swear you feel his tongue trying to find yours through the barrier. "think y'can handle the lot like me, bunny, and you can't. blood on m'ledger would fuckin' drown you."

and it is the truth, he knows it is, and he wouldn't lie to you because he just doesn't fucking care enough to think up a lie. he didn't serve so many years, he didn't give so much time to what he thought was righteous to come home and paint war as a pretty picture to civilians like you. war is blood, war is loss, war is what takes and takes and takes from a man, until they are things. until they come home and realize they have no idea what they were fighting for when they seem the same dirty streets they left behind.

when their brothers still get killed. when their families still come apart. when their lovers betray them, when they break their hearts--when they realize they are glorified weapons for the politicians that don't care about them, that send them away to die, that refuse to support them when they come home without the goodness that they left with.

he gave his entire life up for this. they took his family, they took the only half of him that mattered, and what was it for? nothing waits for him at home. there is no one in his bed, there is no one to call, there was no money in the bank.

there is only the memories that manifest into nightmares, and the blue sky that reminds him of blue eyes. the blue eyes that he could not save, the blue eyes that haunt him, that ask him, desperately--let the bonnie lass go, LT. you cannae save'er.

but he is a lieutenant, and he was a sergeant, and he didn't take fucking orders from anyone anymore anyways.

you are his, and you look so pretty in that cage. pretty enough to eat. pretty enough to take away. pretty enough to poison, because he thinks maybe this is the only way to make himself feel better.

he wants to see your blood run just as black as his own. misery loves company, they say, and it would please him, the selfish thing that he is, to see you just as ugly inside as he is.

"but you want it," he says, and your eyes flick back to meet his. you don't smile, but your gaze doesn't falter. you just stare back at him, and he laughs again, because he sees something he recognizes there. something inhuman, something a little feral. it is inside you.

and he wants it out.

he stands, leaning over you. you're forced to walk backwards, and he doesn't stop until you're back inside. he closes the balcony door behind him, putting a hand on your chest before forcing you backwards with a firm push. the back of your knees hit the couch, and you squeak as you fall back against it.

you almost think he's going to pounce on you. rip your panties to fabric shreds, spread you wide, and fuck you into the cushions. you think he's going to take from you, because that is what predators do, but you're almost taken back by the sight of him lowering to his knees.

he's kneeling. this behemoth of a thing kneels in front of you, and you yelp with a start when he grips you by the back of your knees and yanks you forward, manhandling you until he has your legs tossed over his shoulders. he grunts as he pushes the shirt up to expose your cotton panties, a soft red pair that you know he will ruin when he's done with you.

your back arches as he buries the front of his mask against your cunt, taking a deep breath through the mask. it's filthy, the way he takes in the scent of you, and if you were sane, you would push him away, the nasty thing he is. but you don't--the gesture floods your insides with need, and you squirm in his grip.

"stay still, little rabbit," he says, but it's a demand. he moves one hand further up your thighs, and you whimper softly when his thumb squishes the slit of you through your panties. his eyes brighten when he notices the fabric darkening as soon as he does this, a growing wet spot dampening your underwear. "look at 'er...drippin'...you hungry, luv?"

"uh...ngghhh..."

"oh, fer fuck's sake, haven't even got m'mouth on ya, and y'can't speak already?"

he laughs, because he is mean, because he is a thing that just wants and takes, and what he wants is between your thighs, and you are easy. you want to be more of a challenge; you want to make him work for it, but his eyes flicker up to meet your own, and there is nothing you can do. there is something said whenever your eyes are on each other--you have no idea what it is, but it tames him, and it keeps you.

"he woulda loved you," he says suddenly. you frown, opening your mouth to say something, to ask who he is, but his index finger pulls your panties aside, and he buries his masked face into the wet seam of your pretty pussy.

you cry out at the feeling, your thighs closing around his head instinctively. your back bows even further, a taut, imaginary string being pulled inside of you, and ghost laughs again, because you're so warm and cute and needy. he pushes his face further into you, nuzzling his nose into the place where he knows your clit is, and he draws the most delicious moans out of you. he smiles under the mask when one of your shaking hands grips the back of his head, pushing him deeper, his mask soaking with the slick of you.

he continues the torture for a time unknown. your brain isn't working; you have no concept of time. all you can think about is the way your legs shake and the grip your hands have on the back of his head as you grind your hips up into him. your eyes flutter open and closed, and you push your shirt up a little so he can see your nipples harden with how much everything aches for him.

it feels so good. he grunts, and then a low groan leaves him when you maneuver his head, shoving his nose up against your clit again and slanting your hips up and into him. you're getting off on this--fucking the front of his mask to feel something, to feel this thing you have been chasing for your entire life.

you saw it in him the first time you met him. the knowing when your eyes met for the first time--whatever it is that you have been chasing for your entire life, it is in him, and you need it.

the thing that poets chase. the rush that a high brings. the missing half of you, the warmth of a love you've never had, the shape of something in your cunt that you know he can fill.

you think you might faint when you feel his tongue finally. you can't see his face; he hides it with a wet mask, but his tongue is inside of you now, and you can't help the crying moans that leave you as he laps at your folds like a thirsty dog. maybe he is thirsty--you can hear the lewd, deep swallowing sounds he makes as he tightens his grip on your thighs and bobs his head in time with your stuttering, pleasure-chasing hips.

he drinks. he drinks you insane. his tongue suckles at your clit, then lets it go with a filthy pop to swirl inside your tightening cunt and eat the pretty bunny he has been thinking about far too much. when he works, before he sleeps, in the shower, in the mirror as he covers the scars of him that he never wants to share anymore. the taste of you is enough to distract him--here, between your thighs, your sweetness in his mouth and your moans filling his ears, he doesn't think about anything else. it's impossible. he has been chasing the void for a long time, and all he had to do was eat a pretty girl to get to it?

he knows it now, has decided it already. your cunt is redemption, and he will lose himself in it to make it reality.

"ghost! please!"

your cries shatter his resolve. he folds you in half as he leans over you now, his hands sliding up your soft stomach before he grips the weight of your breasts in his rough hands and squeezes firmly. you whine, cry, moan, beg--you beg for more, for him to please, please, please--! it feels so good, i want it! i want you, i want it all, i want--i want--what does she want?

me? the thing? what isn't real? because ghost knows that if he gives in, it is over. he signs something away, and he has done this before, and suddenly he is afraid.

when he did this before, he was left something else. he is afraid of what will happen the next time. what will happen to him, what might become of him, because what he is now terrifies his reflection, and he has no idea what it'll do.

"please! please! please!"

but you're crying, and you taste so good. and as he laves into the prettiest pussy he's ever had, the sweetest, he remembers why he is here. he isn't here because he loves you. he isn't here because he cares, he isn't here because it is good.

he is here because whatever he is needs a new host, and you are what it wants. soft, pretty, naïve--you have let it inside, and now he will eat and chew and bite until he sucks something out of you.

maybe the good. maybe blood. but it doesn't matter.

he slides his hands back down, using both thumbs to spread your folds apart, and he pulls back to look at you. you're a sloppy mess, your little hole puckering and pulsing, your clit a throbbing bud that begs him to stop teasing. he looks up at where you're a whimpering, crying thing, tears sliding down your puffy cheeks, and he snarls before he leans down and spits right on your clit, watching it drip into your cunt and swirl between what seeps from you.

"say it."

"nnh...huh?"

"say who you belong to."

when you take a moment to answer, he leans down and licks a fat stripe over your clit, making you sob. you reach down, cupping the underside of his jaw. it's bare, and your soft hands glide over the scarred skin there. it is the first time he doesn't flinch.

"you--you!"

"say it."

"b-belong to you..."

the moonlight is blue when he makes you come. his lips wrap around your clit and suckle soft, and when he knows you're coming, he opens his mouth, hinging a strong jaw so he can swallow what drips from you and take in mouthfuls of it. there is a glare over you, a blue light that shines over your sweaty, shivering body, and ghost nearly bites.

as if the blue eyes he can't keep out of his head, the blue eyes that follow him everywhere he goes, are mocking him for taking the thing he knows he shouldn't have. he's telling him to leave you. that there's still time to let you go. that what he has in his hands, what he has at his mercy, is too soft and too pretty and too gentle to be touched by what he will bring to her doorstep.

you sit up on your elbows, half-lidded, face wet with your tears. ghost almost believes the blue that washes over you, but then his eyes meet yours, and it is over. you're smiling.

this is acceptance. because you know what he is. you know what he does. the gun on him is real. the black in his eyes isn't a trick of the light. the poison spreading in his veins isn't just a sickness, it is a cancer, and this will kill him, and it is contagious.

you cup his face, bringing him up, letting him crowd the space between your legs as he leans over you.

he would care. he wants to care. and when he kisses you, sealing your fate, he remembers, suddenly. the blue moonlight is gone.

and this isn't real.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #dark!simon

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rene-darling · 4 months

Note

Listen I saw this fanart and now I had an idea. So like sub!Idol Xiao x dom reader (fem prefered but u can choose) and so basically Xiao's taking some mirror selfies for his social media in this outfit and yk like showing off those lacy panties (like they're pulled up, but he still has his jeans on) and like reader (their partnwrcomes home and sees him doing that. So they like sneak up behind him and hug him from behind. Like he becomes all flustered all of the sudden and readers like:"Oh so you're showing this to millions of people, but get embarassed when I see it?" What happens afterwards is up to u lmao

IDOL!- Xiao x reader

OML THIS IS SO- HOT. I love this concept. I'm drooling.

Possessive reader! A lil toxic I guess, but it's pretty tame.

Also! The readers gender nor pronouns are not mentioned anywhere, so feel free to assume. And if they are please feel free to tell me!

Talk to me on insta [r3xni3]😞🙏

...Xiao...

He's been at it for hours. Different angles, different poses- all to get a good photo of himself flaunting his panties and the tight straps attached to them on his waist,

They hug his body so tightly pushing at his skin, if they move even a little bit you'd definitely see the red marks under them, they push up against his skin, it hurts but, he's doing it cause his agency asked him.

"mhm..." Groans leaving his throat, the photos- they're just not good enough. Scrolling through the endless amounts of them that he took, finally landing on one that pleases him.

He decides to shoot it one more time, same angle and stuff, just better lighting. He wants to show off his toned body as much as possible. And as he does this, it- quite frankly skips his mind that he has a loving partner returning from work soon. And that soon happens to be around- now.

"Ah-!" His body freezes up. Goosebumps trace along his skin- god your hands are cold. His eyes flash down, seeing as your hands slowly trace down the side of his waist, fidgeting with the straps they came across, grabbing one and pulling it away from his body only to watch in amusement as it snaps back in place once you let go,

He reaches out to grab your hand instinctively, mewling- until you finally reach, and play with the hem of his panties.

"y/n- s-...mh, stop." He tries sounding serious, but he curses at how squeaky and pitched his voice came out.

"hm..? What's the problem darl', you can show off your panties to millions of people, but you're getting embarrassed when I see? Hmpf, I'm one of your fans too y'know?."

"i-its not the same-" he's stammering over his words "y/n- hah..-" slipping your hands in between them, but not quite touching him just yet, simply tracing the sides of his hip "and how so..? I'm your biggest fan, shouldn't I get a reward for that. I deserve more than a picture. Don't'cha think?"

Tracing down the side of his hip, he can feel your eyes peering over his shoulder, watching him. His every movement, his every shudder. And the way his panties start bulging in a specific area

"y/n-" his voice is cut off by his own whine. You're so mean, suddenly jerking his cock, tapping its tip just for your own amusement. "Aw- darlin that was too cute!..do that again? Hm? For me?..you take so many photos for those stupid fans of yours, you can make that cute sound for me again can't you..?"

Huffing, he's leaning back into your body. His head falling back with each increase in movement, resting it on your shoulder, whining back into your ear. "Hah- you- you're so mean..!"

It's not your fault he's decided to make you jealous. Seriously, why the hell should he post his body for all his perverted fans to see.

Picking up his phone and pressing record on it, angling it right at his face. "Look here baby, I'm sure your perverted fans would love to see their favorite lil idol losing his head over a few touches." His eyes widen in shock "n-no..!"

He tries grabbing the phone, but to no avail. You pull it further, and jerk his lil dick harder, he stumbles, falling forward before you grab his waist pulling him back into you, he's leaning his whole body weight against you, he just hopes you won't let go.

Snickering to yourself you decide to stop recording, and go into the photos, clicking on the video you just took, you bring it to his ears and make him listen "Aw- darling don't you just sound so cute when you're desperate."

That's when it all spills. A shameful feeling, and an ever more shame worthy whine leave him as he comes all in his lacy little panties, getting them all dirty.

His legs collapse completely as you're forced to pick him up off the floor, not that you mind.

Resting him on the bed, letting him catch his breath, you take a hold of his phone and- delete every photo he took showing off those panties.

Scoffing you throw his phone down next to him and crash onto the bed right near him, wrapping your hands around his pretty waist you hear him huff. "You got them dirty..." He could only mumble under his breath.

"I'll buy you some new ones, on one condition." Turning his head around with a slightly amused expression on his breathless face "and..that is...?"

"you can only take those photos for me. I get to see them. No one else."

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niefics · 2 months

Text

CRAWLING BACK 2 U — P.JS X FEM!READER

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — SYNOPSIS : Reader & jay loose contact after a messy argument about a girl, jay comes crawling back wanting to make her feel good one last time.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — WARNINGS : toxic (?), Fem!reader, cussing, smut with a small plot, pussy eating, dumbification ? NOT PROOF READ!!! Oh and no protection (please wear it), breading kink, slut shaming (?), pet names, slight choking, fingering, cum eating??,, wc ; 2.5k, felt extra nasty ;)))

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — A/N : long time no see LOLLLL, I just ain’t been having inspo lmao .. also why does nb fw jay fics fr </33, reblogs are much preciated. I hope you like this fic!

Sighing harshly you broke the silence that was in jays apartment. "So who is she ?" You asked crossing your arms looking at him. He looked at you, his eyebrows scrunching. "The fuck does it matter, we aren't dating." Your head snapped back at the sudden words. You knew he wasn't yours, you two never put a label on it but it was blatantly obvious what this relationship was. Friends with benefits that was obviously becoming more.

"It fucking matters because you are fucking me, and you always somehow forget to bring condoms so jay it does fucking matter!" You spoke, you've never snapped at jay but at this moment it was serious. Jay sighed, pinching nose bridge as he said your name. "Look, we are only fuck, okay? Only time you're over is to fuck got it ? We were never more." Jay spoke, his tone cold. The fact that he said you two were never more was irritating, assuming the nights you spent with each other just cuddling and acting lovey dovey was nothing more to him was funny, knowing he was the one who started it all. "So those night we laid up under eachother doing nothing but cuddling was nothing more right? Jay I know we aren't a thing I'm not dumb, but it feels like your fucking playing in my face and I don't like that. Do you want her cause she can have you. You were nothing more then dick to me anyways. You could barely hit the spots that made come anyways." You spoke coldly, grabbing your bag and walking to his front door slipping your shoes on and walking out.

One thing you didn't like was being played, especially by someone you know you can do better with. Months went by with no more interaction you didn't care more worried about yourself. There were night where you did miss jay but at that moment you could care less.

As the rain started to get heavy outside your apartment late at night, you were settled into your bed comfortably, half asleep as your tv blasted in the background for extra noise as you slept cuddled up to your pillow. And just as you were about to hit the deepest part of your sleep cycle you heard a continuous knock from your front door sighing, you got up slip on your house shoes and walking to go look through the peephole. You were surprised to see the familiar figure of jay, someone you've cut off long ago. You tiredly unlocked the door to see him drenched. "Listen.." you tiredly rolled your eyes. "What are you here for ?" You questioned tiredly. "You.." he spoke, you laughed softly at his nonsense. "You had me once why would I let you have me again?"

He sighed, saying your name softly. "Cmon, it was a stupid argument." You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "You wouldn't answer the question of the bitch you could've been talking to, jay im not gonna let sleep with just anyone whenever you're sleeping with me! You hardly use condoms so why the fuck would I?" You spoke scrunching you eyebrows. "I dropped contact with her, I don't have her number, she's a nobody to me now .. just please let me, make up to you." He spoke stepping closer to you.

And he you were, on your bed, half necked, your shorts you were sleeping was tossed around your room somewhere while your panties were hanging on to your leg as jay sat head deep into your legs, you legs over his shoulders as his hands kept you legs from closing on his as he sucked your clit, humming as he sucked it, the vibrations causing you to moan as your toes would curl. As little gasps and whines came out your mouth, you forgot how good he felt and why you liked jay so much. No matter how bad he would treat you would stay and when you finally left him alone you really couldn't figure out why and now you do remember, it was how good he'd pleasure you, how good he'd make you come and wouldn't stop till he was done. And when he finished he would cuddle you, cradle you, caress the skin he bruised. That's why you liked him so much, no one has ever made you feel this good.

You whined saying his name with your eyes closed, you grabbed onto your nipples giving yourself extra pleasure as he kept going. He stopped sucking your swollen puffy clit to go lower sticking his tongue out to lick your wet slit, causing to gasp making your legs open wider wanting all of him, you missed how good is tongue felt on you pussy, you missed how filling his fingers alone felt. You couldn't make yourself feel as good as Jay could. No orgasm felt as good as the one Jay gave you and you hated that, now matter if you thought about sleeping with another man, it wouldn't feel ass good as it did with jay. The after care wouldn't feel as good as with jay, it was as of tho jay ruined it all for you abs you hated it.

But here you are, a moaning, whining mess as jay licked up your slick prepping to fuck you senseless, he pulled his face away from you cunt rubbing his middle finger into your slick spitting into it giving more slick to work with as he rubbing his finger into your pussy before shoving his finger causing you to gasp at the feeling of his cold digit being inside you, he wasted no time moving it inside and out of you watching you to see how you were feeling, a shit eating grin never failed to meet your gaze as he moved his finger faster with no warning you eyebrows knitted together you tried to keep eye contact your mouth agape before you head fell back and you finally spoke. "Fuck!" You dragged your word out as you found your hand rubbing your clit trying to clinch on his finger. He chuckled.

"Trying to come already baby? Haven't even put the second one in yet. You've missed my fingers this much ?" He spoke shaking his head taking his eyes off your face to you cunt who was damn sure ready for a second finger, he added it as you quickly shut your legs.. well tried to at least. "F .. uh .. ck!" You spoke trying to let it out in a small cry coming out instead. He chucked diving back into your cunt, going back to kissing and sucking on you clit as he fucked his fingers into you, pumping them hitting that spot that made you feel funny. "Yes, jay please don't stop." You whined putting your hand in his hair pulling it, he groaned causing vibrations making you clinch on his fingers as he kept pressing on your good spot. You already felt like the knot in your stomach was about to pop.

"Shit shit shit, jay! Please .. can I come." He pulled off you letting his finger slip out rubbing you clit as he stood up. He shook his head no, humming in a disapproval. "Not right now." He spoke kissing your lips, your slick on his lips and chin, he hummed into the kiss his pants strangling his hardened dick, it twitching in his sweats. He pulled back as he untied it. "Fuck I don't have a condom." You rolled your eyes. "You never have one." He chuckled pulling his pants down, including his underwear his dick springing out with precum leaking. "I'm starting to think you like the risk of cumming in me." He pulled in to kiss you his hand finding it way on your neck. "And you like it, you clench harder Everytime I think about trying to baby trap you." You both knew it was just the feeling of good sex playing a roll in his "threats." You knew jay had a breading kink, but he never dared to fill you up, even with as much begging as you did it was always no.

"You gonna fill me up tonight, make our last time a good one ? Leave me all messy?" He grabbed you by your neck kissing you harder you knew exactly what to do to turn him on, no matter how long it's been. "Turn around, ass up." He pulled back to watch you do so, you tried to take your oversized shirt on. "No, keep it on, I want to have something to pull on." You pouted. "But you have my hair?" He chuckled shaking his head. "Who said I can't have options?" He spoke watching you turn over ass up he walked closer to the bed pulling you to the edge, he put his fingers back into you as you grabbed his dick at stroking it as he pumped his fingers into you making you moan again. You your hand back towards your face into your mouth, spitting into your hand and pulling it back to his hardened member stroking it making him moan at the feeling of the mixture of spit and precum together. "Enough, move you hand." He spoke as you let go and he positioned himself slowing pushing himself in.

A gasp came out your mouth, you nearly forgot how painfully big his dick was, especially when he decided not go missionary, whining at the pain. "Ahh take it, I know you can ?" He spoke as you ran a little from it pushing your ass back down a little as he went down more and more finally hitting the base he gave you time to breath and get used to it. He was a monster after all.

He pulled back, as he started thrusting into you, your eyebrows knitted together as you let him fuck himself into you you lip bitten as you took it, getting used to his dick again you started to moan more freely, he grabbed your shirt, pulling on it as he started pounding into you as you moaned and whined his name like he liked it. "Wait- fuck! Y/n is this my shirt?" He spoke pounding into you, it was so dumb of him to even try to keep a conversation with you especially in this position, you can never keep up a conversation in the position, he just felt so much deeper when your ass was up like this, you came the most in the position, made you biggest messes in the position. You hummed. "You know I .. fucking hate you not using your words!" He spoke pounding harder. You tried to speak. "Yes! I kept it- fuck! Fells s'good." You moaned. "Your dumb for my dick aren't you? Haven't even been long and here you are all whiny and creamy already on my dick." He groaned.

"And I bet you'd love to feel me feel you up to the brim too." He spoke going faster, your mouth fell agape as you felt so good. "Fuck yes!" You moaned. "So dumb for my cock huh baby? My little cock slut, not even your own fingers can make you feel this good huh?" You clenched on his dick you felt so close yet so far. "Let me here you say it?" He spoke slapping your ass. "Ah! Fuck.. you can only make feel this good jay!" He chuckled pulling on you hair and bring you closer. "Mhm, that's right my dumb slut, nobody can make you feel as good as jay can." His hand snaked around your neck softly squeezing your neck you felt yourself go dumb, you knew you were about to come whining.

"Please please please." You repeated in a whisper. "Please what?" He asked groaning in your ear. "Please let me come." Jay twitched hearing that, kissing your jaw as he felt you clench again. "I'm so, so close please!" He liked when you begged, he liked to see you a mess in general he couldn't help that. "Come baby, make a mess on my dick." He spoke letting you fall back on your knees slapping your ass as he kept going as just like that you whined cleaning on jay so hard he could've popped out. "Fuck." Jay spoke as your orgasm hit you, you started shivering as he kept going, jay kept thrusting, a ring forming around his dick he began to get sloppy, he went down toward you ear once you slightly calmed down from your orgasm. "Gonna let me fill you up? One good time." You nodded frantically, shaking still "god yes!" He chuckled as he kept going as you started moving your hips too.

"Flip over I need to see your face." And you did so, he took your legs and put one over his shoulder as the other was in his hand as he kept going. You rested your body on your elbows as you let him fuck you. You watched him go in and out of you as you met his eyes, your head falling back as you felt like you could come again just by his gaze you never wanted this to end. His thrust for so sloppy it’s was obvious he was about to come, slammed into you a few times as you came again, he did so groaning so loud, going faster. “Fuck yesss” he hummed as a mixture of both of your comes mixed together. “If you were my girlfriend I swear to god I would do this to you every night.” You were to high to even care about the stupid shit he just said. Feeling him pull out.

He fell back to his knees, as he starting to eating you out, pulling you back towards him as you whined as you made you feel good all over again, slurping up at your juices his nose hit your sensitive clit you cried out, you hand found a way to his messy hair again your thighs were definitely full at this point, you knew you were gonna have another orgasm, as he fucked his tongue into you, you cried. You were sure you loved him.

You vision became blurry as you trembled as your last and final orgasm hit. “God!” You moaned, legs shaky and your grasp on his head tighter then ever. He slurped it up one last time getting after and kissing you, you tired body wrapped your arms around him pulling him in as you made out. The taste of both of you in his and your mouth.

He cleaned you two up, as you sat in a cleaned bed, you leg wrapped over his legs as your arm was over his chest as you sat in silence as he caressed your leg. Nights like this is what you cherished, you did want to do it. But you knew it was needed.. this was the last time you saw him for sure. Or at least that’s what you wanted you woke up to him coming back with a plan B and breakfast giving you a soft kiss. And once again you crawled back to him.

#enhypen smut #kpop smut #enhypen x you #jay x reader #jay smut #jayangst #jay x you #jay fanfic #jay enhypen #jay park smut #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen angst #jay ff #jay angst #jay hard hours #enhypen jay #jay park

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yoongsisbae · 10 months

Text

Seven Days a Week | JJK

idol!jungkook x noona!reader. Every day, Jungkook shows you his devotion, deeper than the ocean. Seven different scenarios, seven days a week.

Happy holidays! I'm thankful for my sweet readers who will forgive me for taking so long to post (I hope) :'D

Warnings: pwp (so basically like the song), bdsm because I feel like it's on brand, jealous/clingy/possessive jk because also on brand, dubcon, soft yandere, jk is sf obsessed with u, he kinda toxic tbh so if you don't like that don't read this lol, rough sex, voyeur, somnophilia, fingering, oral sex, overstimulation, voyeur, tied up, sweet aftercare eventually lol

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Jungkook wound himself around your body, held you tighter than he should. If he could bring you closer to him, he would. He couldn't help himself, sometimes, he wanted to make you cry out, make it hurt, so he could be assured of your devotion, that you'd still love him, that you wouldn't leave him at his worst. It eased his anxious heart when you leaned into his rough embrace instead of shying away, looked back at him with glistening eyes full of tears, gripped him back just as tightly and cried a soft moan.

He couldn't help himself, Jungkook loved you, and he wound himself up over thoughts of you leaving him for someone better, for someone with more time for you, someone who could show their love better than Jungkook could. Jungkook could only whisper his love to you when no one else was looking, show how much he needed you behind closed doors, in dark rooms, hidden from the public always.

Jungkook wanted to scream out to the world his love for you, but he couldn't, for so many reasons he shouldn't. It wasn't fair and it made him mad, made him jealous, so he made you scream his name instead, into pillows, behind his palm, underneath him, just hoping it would be enough to keep you with him forever.

He wanted you to ache for him night after night, think about him as much as he thought about you, at every minute, every second, every day.

MONDAY

Jungkook opens the door to his apartment.

He smiles to himself as he takes off his boots. The smell of home-cooking hits him immediately. Jungkook can hear you in the kitchen making dinner, chopping vegetables and singing.

He creeps closer, watching as you dance to music playing loudly, and unbeknowest to you, putting on a rather nice show for your mischievous boyfriend.

Jungkook can't help himself, and honestly you should be more aware of your surroundings. He's teaching you a lesson!

"Boo!"

You crumple onto the floor, screaming like you've just seen a ghost.

You smack your terror of a boyfriend as Jungkook joins you on the floor, doubling over in a fit of laughter. "You're going to give me a heart attack!" You clutch your racing heart, glaring at your giggly attacker.

"Yah! How did you not hear me? What if I had been a burglar?!"

"...in this building?" You shove him.

"What if you were alone at your place? You need to pay attention. You could have been taken advantage of!"

You cross your arms. "Shouldn't you still be at work?"

Jungkook's eyes sparkle with mirth as he helps you up. "Should I go back?" He laughs and kisses you when you pout, breathing you in.

"You look beautiful," he murmurs into your neck, hands gripping your ass, pulling you into him. "Why are you dressed up? Planning on going out while I'm at work?"

"I'm not dressed up," you argue. Your face feels hot as his eyes rake over your body. "And no, of course not, I wanted to look nice for you."

"Good." Jungkook buries his head in your shoulder, taking his time slipping his hands under the hem of your dress and exploring your body. "Because I don't want anyone else to see you in this dress but me, okay?"

He kisses you, licks across your lips, swallowing up your protests. "I'm not done cooking," you mumble between heated kisses.

Jungkook reaches over and turns off the burner. "It can wait. Right now, I want something else to eat," he teases.

"But-"

He nips at your lips, rolls his tongue in your mouth until you're gasping. "I'm not hungry. Well..." his gaze travels down to your lips and then lower. "I'm hungry for you, Noona," he whispers in your ear, hugging you to him tightly.

You let a moan escape you as his breath tickles your ear, and he lets out a low heavy grunt, nipping at your lobe. He wants you closer, he grips your ass, yanking you into his growing erection.

You kiss him, giving in. Jungkook is always so very good at distracting you.

And his distractions often hit you like a whirlwind. Your idol boyfriend can easily turn up the heat from zero to a hundred with his adept hands and talented tongue.

Those hands roam your body, that tongue plays with your own. And before you know it, Jungkook is easily pressing two digits into you.

The sudden intrusion stings even in your growing wetness, filling you with pressure that turns into inescapable pleasure, sending trembles through you.

Jungkook's lips never leave yours. He loves kissing you until you're whining for him to slow down, heaving in air in the seconds his lips part from yours, your soft lips becoming swollen and sensitive the longer he stays pressed to you, until you're pushing against his chest to let you breath.

Jungkook loves the way your body squirms against him, he grabs your wrist, moving his mouth down to nip and suck at your neck as his fingers press deeper and faster into you. No matter how many times he does it, it feels like fireworks, electrifying you, an overwhelming touch that makes your legs buckle and your body shake.

You welcomed his rough touches. You couldn't pinpoint the day his usual gentleness became something more, the hesitation in his movements became confident hands holding onto your throat and deep rough thrusts he was no longer holding back, or when your stilted moans became loud and shameless, but you craved seeing that side of him, one you could only bring out of him.

Perhaps you shouldn't feed into your younger boyfriend's demanding nature so much. When he held your hand against your back, nipped at your shoulder, you should have put your foot down and told him to stop and let you finish cooking, but it felt so much better to wrap your legs around him instead and kiss him back, to let him move your body the way he wanted and give into everything. Pleasure, pain, both made your heart race the same, rose the temperature in your body almost indistinguishably.

Jungkook groans, low, hissing, whimpering. He is a vocal lover, it was never a surprising fact and only excited you more to hear how much you affected him, made you gush wetness at his deepened voice.

Jungkook groans even louder as you coat his fingers in more slick, thumb circling over your clit as he rocks his hand against your core, making you quiver and let out the most obscene sounds Jungkook's ever heard. Your sweet voice always delighted him, but this, made him rock hard.

"I missed you, Noona," Jungkook whines against your throat. Your nails dig into his shoulders and he sucks harder on the sensitive skin of your neck, making sure to mark you so others know they can't have you, so even though you can't let them know Jungkook is yours, you will have something to show off his devotion.

If Jungkook could not be with you out in the open, he would make sure your body revealed his presence nonetheless. So many times he would grip your thighs, dig his fingers into your flesh, so you would have to cover your legs from prying eyes or admit you've been held, touched, fondled to any man who dared to look at you. Just the thought of their eyes on you made Jungkook press down harder.

This tiny dress, this low cut hem and short skirt wouldn't hide his marks. He swallows down his growing irritation when he thinks of you leaving his home in something so revealing. Part of him wants to rip it off you, hide it so you'll leave in his sweats and hoodie, so you'll have part of him around you all day until he can hold you again.

Jungkook wanted to watch you fall apart on his fingers, but he had riled himself up too much now, he needed to silence his worries again, he needed to feel you around his cock instead, right now, in his kitchen. He quickly turned you around, hugged your body close to him and replaced his fingers with his thick length instead.

You loved his soft caresses, but the desperation in the way he wanted to bury himself inside your body made you burn all over. "I missed you too," you whined, pressing your hips back into him.

You cried out from the burn as you stretched around his length, gripping the counter as Jungkook filled you fuller. Jungkook fucked into you over and over, letting the frustrations of his work day out, forgetting everything but the warmth of your body, until he felt like he was bursting, then he pulled out and slapped your ass hard, pulling you into his arms.

He decided he would have his meal in the bedroom instead.

TUESDAY

You sit in Jungkook's studio, enjoying your day off with him. He's working on his newest song. You catch him staring at you and it makes you smile. He chews on his bottom lip as he mumbles the chorus to himself and you stretch your sore limbs.

Jungkook twirls his pen out of habit, singing the soulful melody softly, restless legs knocking into yours as he taps his foot.

"This is putting me in the mood," you tease when he goes over another rather scandalous line in his song.

"Yeah?" he smiles.

"Your voice is so sexy."

He smirks, tapping his pen. "Come here."

You definitely promised a certain leader you would not be a distraction when visiting. Jungkook leans back in his studio chair, spreading his legs and instead of repeating himself, he taps his knee impatiently.

What if someone comes in? What if they hear you? What if you get caught? You glance toward the studio door. "We shouldn't..."

Jungkook can't help himself when it comes to you. How can he stop himself when you say it like that? Breathy and low, and a touch of playfulness in your voice, a cheeky half smile across your full lips? He licks across his own lips, adjusting his lip ring, imagining all the things he'd like to do to you in his studio. Your gaze follows his actions, your fingers absentmindedly brushing across your mouth in response.

"Ride me." Jungkook grunts, adjusting himself. "No one will find out if you keep quiet," he whispers, smiling deviously.

You scoff, standing up and settling yourself down in his lap despite your apprehensions. "Just kissing."

"Kissing, annnnd?" He teases, grabbing you roughly to bring you closer.

"We can't," you groan when his hips press up into yours, his strong grip on your body tightening.

"So what if someone catches us? You're mine, aren't you?" he mutters.

"Yes, but-"

"I want you," he whines. "I need you. Please Noona, give it to me." He slides his hand in between your legs, fingertips dancing over your panties, pressing against the wet fabric at your center.

"I can't stop thinking about how good your pussy would feel." He steadily rubs across the sheer cloth, "Fuuuuck, let me feel you just for a second."

Your breath hitches at his obscene words, how can you deny him now? "A quick one," you kiss him with no time to waste, hiking up your skirt higher. "Just for a second," you remind him.

Jungkook grunts in satisfaction, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down and exposing his already solid erection, tongue exploring your mouth as if the taste of you is the only cure for the hunger inside of him.

"Slow," you tell him, rubbing your pussy over his leaking cock, but he only smirks and pulls your hips down on his cock, swallowing up your whimpers.

He thrusts up fast, fucking you hard, enjoying the sight of you as you bite down screams of ecstasy, unable to keep yourself completely quiet. It's like a game, one he intends on winning, and one he certainly has the stamina and strength to win, but your tightness is proving to be formidable at unraveling his conquest of you.

He drags your shirt up, yanks your bra down until he unveils your perky nipples and he is quick to devour you, suck until you are all but overcome by the fevered attention of your body.

Until you are overcome, coming hard on his cock, shaking against him, quivering for him to relent as he does a victory lap across your body, pinching and sucking and fucking you until you are boneless in his arms, pliable to his whims.

The way you mold yourself to him, surrender your body to him, sends Jungkook over the edge quickly. It's all he wants, it's all of you.

WEDNESDAY

"Noona, it's been so long since we had sex," Jungkook groans.

"We had sex yesterday, you crazy!" you remark, giving up on the movie in front of you.

"Yeah, that was yesterday, we haven't had sex today at all." Jungkook runs his hands down the curves of your body, enticing you even further away from the action on the television.

It works, his hands touching your body, his softly spoken words of encouragement, so needy and persistent, rile you up to the point where you can’t help but give in to Jungkook.

The tips of his fingers are electric as they run down your skin. It's like you are hard wired for him, turned on by him so easily like a flip of a switch.

And you can feel his switch turning up too, pressing against your leg, growing bigger and bigger and more demanding to be touched.

Jungkook was practically hardwired for you too. It's probably why he gets hard just sitting beside you, so suddenly when you are just cuddling or talking. And like a switch being flipped, his whole demeanor changes, gone is your cute cuddly boyfriend. Jungkook's eyes go dark and determined, he breathes out low and seductive, and you can't help but fall into him further.

The way he explores your body and groans deeper sends jolts of energy through you, his strong hands caressing your stomach and sides, carefully pushing up your shirt and grabbing your tits, his body pressed tight against you as he moves on top, in between your legs, your heat and his meeting and fitting together so perfectly; it makes you frenzied for him.

You finally reach for him, grip his shoulders in a vice and arch into him, needing him impossibly closer.

Jungkook presses his head deep between the valley of your breasts and inhales raggedly, it’s shocking and makes you practically delirious with lust. You thought your sex drive was abnormal, but your younger boyfriend really could go all day and all night, probably every hour on the hour, if you let him.

”Please…” you rasp.

”Please what, baby?”

You bite your lip, too shy to ask him. Jungkook grins. He loves when you act like this, needy and whiny for him, cute and shy.

You may be older than him, but Jungkook’s always been the dominate one in the relationship, and if it weren’t for a few very calculated ‘y/n Noona’s amongst company, your friends would have never guessed he was the youngest between you.

You acted like you hated when he called you ‘Noona,’ as it was a sore reminder that you were at a disadvantage by societal standards, but really, alone together, when Jungkook softly whines for you, it’s just another switch that brightens your love for him, your desire for him….

“Please, fuck me,” you whisper, barely audible.

”What, baby?”

You wrap your legs tighter around his lean waist, diving your hand in between your bodies to reiterate your desperate need for him.

Jungkook moans deeply and lays heavy over you, head nestled back into the softness of your body. He lets his tongue lick across your neck and shoulder as you wrap your fingers tightly around his erection.

With his eyes no longer penetrating you, Jungkook falling apart over you, your head less cloudy by his intoxicating attractiveness, you can whisper what you want most directly in his ear. “Please fuck me. I’m so wet for you.”

Jungkook groans, “Fu-uck.”

”Fill me up with your cock.”

He lifts himself up. ”Yeah, you want my cum?”

His eyes rack over your body. You nod quickly, wavering in your confidence.

As if somehow your boyfriend knew the insecurities surfacing inside you, he runs his hand softly over your cheek and down your neck, cupping your breast. “You’re so sexy, so good to me,” he breathes out, barely containing himself from ravaging you. “Want me to fuck you full of my cum, Noona?” He smirks, hand placed back against your cheek, thumb finding it’s way inside your mouth to press against your bottom lip.

He knows it already, he knows you.

”Yes,” you whisper breathlessly, grinding against his cock. “I want you, fu-uck —oh— please.”

Jungkook dives in for a kiss as you guide his cock through your slippery folds. He swallows up your moans eagerly as he thrusts his hips to meet yours.

You choke on your own cries, the air knocked out of you by his deep thrusts as you tighten yourself around him, holding onto him like a lifeline.

You really could drown in him, let yourself float deeper in the ocean of Jungkook’s love until his slippery embrace was all that surrounded you and all that you wanted. It was easy, natural, to sink deeper, to love him like you needed him to breathe.

One day you’ll reach the climax to that movie, but not tonight. Tonight, his climax is the ending you excitedly reach for.

THURSDAY

Sometimes you went days without him, some nights you would be fast asleep before Jungkook came home, some mornings he would be gone before you woke.

So each moment you had with the famous singer you treasured. But…

You also have to admit, there are some moments where you just want to…

Smack your boyfriend in the back of his beautiful head for being so aggravating!

You get so little time with him…not enough…and today Jungkook chose to spend that time giving you…the silent treatment!?

“Why are you mad? Talk to me.” You ask, after riding home with him in silence.

Jungkook bites his tongue.

“I’m leaving!” You groan, turning on your heel and heading back towards the front door. You didn’t want to leave, but being ignored by your boyfriend after missing him for so long was far far worse.

“Where are you going?!” He yells. “Going to see Jaehyun!?”

“What? No?! Wait, what?!” You stammer, perplexed.

Jungkook crosses his arms and looks away muttering to himself.

“JUNGKOOK, WHY ARE YOU SO MAD?”

“WHY DID YOU LET HIM FEED YOU?” Jungkook bursts out.

“Huh? Who? Jaehyun?!”

“Yes!”

“When did he-”

“The wrap!”

Your mind runs through tonight’s dinner party where you met up with Jungkook and his friends. You hadn’t even wanted to go, things like that made you anxious, but you missed your boyfriend like crazy and didn’t want to wait a second longer to see him.

In places like that, you had to make sure to keep Jungkook at an arm’s length, you never knew when a close moment in public could be used against you; so the few, the better.

You sat next to his friend Jaehyun, and he might have helped you make a wrap, now that you think about it…

The others teased Jungkook, noticing the irony of the situation when Jaehyun helped you pull away two perilla leaves stuck together, and Jungkook whined and acted angry and eventually laughed along.

Well, at least you thought it had been an act…

Clearly, it was not.

“Jungkook, really, Jaehyun? You’re jealous of him?”

“I'm not jealous!” And then he can’t help but add, “When we first met, whose picture did I find in your phone?”

“....I don't r-remember?” You definitely do remember.

He looks at you pointedly.

“…Jaehyun’s?”

He glares at you, seemingly furious at the fact that he made his point.

“Okay? So, what? You think this whole time, I’ve just been pining for Jeong Yuno? Just biding my time with you until I can be with Jeong Yuno?!”

“No-” he pouts.

“You don't believe me when I tell you I love you? You think I'm a liar?” You ask, on a tirade now.

“No-no. I just-”

“What?!”

“I'm sor-”

“Jungkook, I haven't seen you for over two weeks. Do you know how much I looked forward to tonight, to finally be with you? To see you? to spend time with you? The only reason I went to dinner is because you asked me to!”

Jungkook stays stubbornly quiet.

“I should go.”

Jungkook hugs you from behind before you can reach the door, pressing himself to your back. “No, don’t go, please don't go.”

You reach for the door handle. “I want to leave.” You didn't. You much rather enjoyed the heat of Jungkook’s body wrapped around you. But you’re mad now too and wanted to make a point.

“No.”

“Let me go.”

“I can't.”

Jungkook kisses your neck. He extinguishes your anger with each little peck, kisses like raindrops against your skin, fizzling out your heated disposition.

You turn around, glaring into his eyes. He would hate it if you ignored him like that, he would whine about it for hours! And Jungkook is still mad, it’s a hard emotion for him to just let go of, even when he believes you. He had worked himself up thinking of his friend and you, imaginary scenarios where you left him for someone easier to be with, someone better than Jungkook.

He kept catching moments where his friend and you held each other’s attention. The way Jaehyun and you looked at each other and giggled when ‘it’ happened.

Argh he hated it!!!!

Jaehyun’s chopstick touched yours…he basically indirectly kissed you at that point! The next time you meet him, what’s gonna happen next, are you gonna fuck each other-

”What’s wrong now?” You whine out.

Jungkook gripped your head in his hands, smashing his lips into yours so fiercely you squeal in surprise.

It almost works, his kiss and his body that you ached for all this time. You don’t hate him, you love him, you love his stupid over reactions and his possessive nature and his passion-

“Ow!”

You smack him away when he bites your bottom lip harshly.

“I'm sorry.” Jungkook is not sorry.

And you know it. You glare at him, grip his neck and kiss him roughly, biting down on his bottom lip, paparazzi photos be damned. Jungkook hisses in pain, gripping you back harsher. You try to move away, close your mouth tightly, knowing he will try to bite you back harder, but he becomes desperate to kiss you, have your mouth, your tongue, have all of you, gripping your jaw tight, pressing so hard into you that your lips finally part for him.

You struggle and whimper and it only makes Jungkook more fevered. He yanks you off your feet before you know it, dragging you away from the exit, from the possibility of leaving him alone-

No no no, you had been so far away from him for so long. He needed you here. Right here with him. He needed your mouth on him and your skin on him, he needed to have you, and he especially needed to keep you away from anyone else.

His teeth drag along your skin. Jungkook is harsher than he usually is, which is saying a lot, and his rough touches make you feverish and aching for what’s to come and questioning if you want to continue. You dig your nails into Jungkook’s wide back, he sucks marks into your skin without any hesitation.

You squirm, his overwhelming affection rips through you and leaves you tingling, pulsing, gushing. He touches your body like he owns it, and he tells you so, grunting “mine” against your heated skin.

You're going to come for him, you're going to bare your body for him, you're meant for him and no one else, he can't take the thought of you with anyone else, he can't…

He kisses you like he has something to prove, wanting to make up the hours not with you.

You push against him but he's solid like a rock, he’s not going to move from on top of you.

He grunts, smelling you. “I don’t want anyone else to touch you but me.” “He didn’t touch me,” you remind him.

“His chopstick touched yours-”

You giggle, half groaning. “His ‘chopstick’ did not touch me.”

“His actual chopstick.” Jungkook’s anger is still evident, even when his eyes soften, his gaze darkens again.

“Okay, okay. Just don’t ever ignore me like that,” you pout. “You would hate it if I did that to you.”

”I know. I’m sorry, Noona.” He kisses you softly in apology. And once again, his kisses become rougher, more urgent, until you’re yanking at each other’s clothes again, squeezing handfuls of each other, becoming louder and louder in contest.

Perhaps you are too forgiving, but no one is perfect and yet your boyfriend comes very close.

Perhaps you just want to appreciate these moments, so sweet and delicious, forget the sour ones, and your appetite is too ravenous, you hungered for him, you drooled for a taste of him.

“So wet...Noona, you’re so wet...” Jungkook’s fingers sped up inside you. His other hand tangled itself in your hair, kept you from avoiding his gaze.

You gripped his thick cock in response. “So hard,” you moan.

You match each other’s pace, an unspoken race to see who reaches the finish line first. Jungkook refuses to lose, so he hikes you leg up higher, pushing his cock into you instead, setting his own brutal pace.

He fucks you hard, until you cry out the way he likes and shake exactly how he wants.

He circles your clit until you’re trembling. You grip his wrist but he's stronger than you and it doesn't deter him, digits pumping inside you at an unrelenting pace, intent on punishing you for the earlier night, Jungkook thinks you deserve a little punishment as long as you are enjoying it.

You clench around his cock so tight it’s painful for him to try to hold back any longer, but it’s an ache he accepts for you, like the ache he feels in his heart when you are not around, it’s all worth it to hold you in his arms and watch you fall into bliss.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Kookie.”

”Again?”

“…We’re gonna have to change these sheets.”

FRIDAY

Jungkook set his suitcase down and walked quietly through his apartment, not wanting to wake you. He found you sprawled on his bed, fast asleep, cute as ever. He gave you a quick kiss before showering. When your boyfriend came back to you, you had contorted yourself in another position, arm hanging off the bed. He moved you gently and cuddled into your side, finally feeling at home and at peace in your warmth.

His hectic lifestyle meant this often happened, even when he had you, you were already gone far away into dreamland, and it would be Jungkook's turn to wait for you. He didn't mind it, even if your mind was resting, your body was fully aware of his presence.

He rests his head on your shoulder and runs his fingertips along your body, focusing on your nipples, teasing them until they stand erect.

It was his night time ritual at this point, sometimes he'd gently pull your shirt up and admire the way they hardened slowly. Sometimes he'd lick them, desperate for a taste of you. He would play with your body until sleep overtook him, until your softness and smell and the comfort of your presence lulled him to sleep. Hotel rooms without you were such a cold loneliness in comparison, he needed to feel that heat inside you.

And occasionally, like tonight, he would reach in between your legs and softly caress your folds for even more of a taste of you, hoping to rouse you awake so he could bury himself inside the heat of you.

"I love you." Jungkook kisses the side of your open mouth and rubs your pussy slowly.

You were so tired you couldn't even find the energy to open your eyes, you just grunted softly, acknowledging his doting presence.

Jungkook slowly presses two digit inside your leaking hole, lying his head down on your chest. He alternates his attention between your breast and your cunt, lazily licking and dipping his digits inside you, occasionally rutting against you with his semi-firm cock, content only in the exploration of your body.

Until eventually, your arm finds its way into his hair, petting the soft ringlets of Jungkook's damp strands. "Feel good, Noona?" he murmurs.

"Mmmm."

Your eyes were still closed, your jaw still slack, part of you still present inside your dreams. But your legs widened and your cunt tightened around his digits, your walls sucking his fingers in.

"Can I fuck you?"

"Mmmmm."

You were dripping wet at this point, and it takes only one more squeeze from your silky walls for Jungkook to roll himself on top, pressing the head of his cock into you.

Jungkook lies on top of you, relishing in the feel of your pussy, tight and wet around his cock.

He almost falls asleep, the way your entire presence envelopes him makes him feel so relaxed and safe. After a long plane ride home, he wanted nothing more than to sink into you further.

But you whimper softly, gushing wetness around his member, so he gives you what your body wants, give it to you slowly, steadily, building the pleasure up for both of you. He could do this all night: rock into you, hold you and lie with you.

But you wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his back and whimper, kissing his forehead, moaning out loud.

Jungkook finally lifts himself up, thrusting into you hard. Normally you would have squirmed and cried out at his sudden roughness, but your sleepy body rocked against his sheets and you arched your back into him instead.

"Fuuck. Noona, can I come inside?"

"Mm."

Jungkook spills into you, cock pulsing against your walls, filling your pussy full of his cum, then falls on top of you, spent, sighing against you.

You arch into him further, wanting release but too tired to voice your needs.

"Let me rest," he murmurs tiredly, slowly pressing his fingers inside your throbbing core, plugging his cum inside you. "Just for a bit, I promise, I'll make you cum, Noona." Jungkook rests his head next to you and closes his eyes, fingers stilling inside your walls.

It's almost torturous, but you don't even realize how needy you've become. You softly lift your hips up, rutting against his palm, until your dreams take you away again.

You dream of him, of course. You dream of his tight muscular body pressed against yours, his soft lips and sweet voice whispering dirty things into your ear. You dream of Jungkook fucking you until you scream and cry out his name over and over again. You dream of his fingers deep inside your walls, teasing out your orgasm until you're shaking, convulsing in unimaginable pleasure.

And suddenly your whole body stiffens and your legs lock around Jungkook's head as you come violently on his tongue.

You lift your head up and see your boyfriend smiling wide, head resting against your mound. "Morning, baby."

SATURDAY

"Jungkook, help! Jungkook!"

Jungkook comes running into the room, panicked at your yelling, and then he finds you...

…and begins to laugh.

You can hear your boyfriend's hysterics behind you. "This is not funny! Help!" you grunt, annoyed.

Jungkook sees you, legs kicking, body upside down over the armrest of his sectional, stuck in between the couch and the end table. "I tried to find where the cell phone charger went," you whine.

You push up on your elbow, but you have put yourself in such an awkward position you can't catch enough momentum to lift yourself up. "Heeelp! Pull me up!"

Jungkook surveys the situation closer and you closer. With the help of gravity your night shirt has ridden down over your behind, presenting the most enticing view of your bright red panties to your still laughing boyfriend.

You grunt and try to push yourself up again, palms pressing against the wood flooring, but your center of gravity is too low to lift yourself alone and you can not change your position in the cramped space without bumping your head. Your boyfriend places his hands on your hips and you sigh in relief, until-

"Hey!" you yelp. Your very mischievous boyfriend starts to massage your backside, kneading your suppleness, moving closer and closer to…

"Fuck, you did this on purpose, didn't you?" Jungkook groans, gripping you tightly, two big handfuls of your bare ass. "Damn…"

You can't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "I'm not!" Jungkook slaps your backside hard, his palm spreading across the arch in your back. "Hey!" You squeal. "Help me up!"

"And if I fuck you instead?"

"Or you could help me up and we can-" your arms are getting tired, "-ugh— go to the bed?"

He pats your backside again, "Get up then," he laughs.

"I can't," you whine.

“Aww you really can’t lift yourself?”

“C’mon, you’re making me feel old,” you pout.

He yanks you up. Just a bit. Just to position yourself better for his viewing pleasure.

“Try again,” he laughs.

You straighten your arms once again, lifting your body. You almost made it, so close, but your backside collides with the growing bulge in Jungkook’s pants and you fall down over the couch’s arch again. Is he j-just over you? Watching you?

“Sorry, Noona,” he pauses, “but can’t we try it out?” He resumes the kneading, moving closer and closer to your core, until his nimble fingers slide over your slit and under your panties, pulling them down.

Jungkook’s proposal is tempting, his touches feel good, and although you and your boyfriend have christened most of the areas in his apartment, this is definitely a new endeavor.

“I guess- oh!” Jungkook presses himself all the way inside you. Had he been ready this whole time?

His pace is quick, not wanting to waste any time. He thrusts into you deep, the hard cushion of his couch making it so there is no escaping the length of his cock and the deepness of his ruts. There’s no escaping him, not that you want to…

You can’t do much of anything but hold yourself up, keep your arms straight, be good for him and take his cock.

It makes your toes tingle realizing how trapped you were to his whims as you let yourself be used by him. You wonder what Jungkook’s thinking, why he’s so enthusiastic, does he enjoy the fact that he has you helpless, unable to fight back? Does he like using you like this, a hole to fuck?

Is it depraved that you are enjoying this so much, that you are so turned on, that you’re nearing climax already.

His hand spreads your cheeks wider so he can admire himself disappear inside you. His thumb presses against your other hole as he takes in all of you, all his.

His thumb presses inside as he grips your ass tighter until its disappeared inside you like his cock. You’ve never felt so full before, so thoroughly used. Jungkook can feel your tightness, your gushing wetness. He listens to the heightened pitches in your moans. He’s nearing his high as well…

His cock swells as he moves faster, finding the pace that he likes most, cock rubbing your slippery walls at the perfect angle to send him to climax.

“I’m gonna come,” he grunts, shoving himself inside you deeper, cursing at how good you feel wrapped around him. He could never get tired of this, your silky walls and soft skin and the smell of your arousal consuming him. It makes him addicted, he’s addicted to you.

“Oh shit,” he pulls out, finishing across your exposed ass and finally finally Jungkook lifts you up and lays you across his couch, taking space next to you to relax.

“Fuck, I liked that.”

”Yeah?” You hum.

“Noona, I want to tie you up.”

Your cunt clenches at his confession.

“Hmm tomorrow.”

SUNDAY

"The food was so good," you hum, "thank you." You squeeze your boyfriend's hand as you walk hand in hand to his motorcycle. The plates presented to you were so beautiful, tasted amazing, and the whole night felt so romantic. The cozy atmosphere made every moment feel so special, made you fall in love with Jungkook all over again.

And stepping into the cool night air made the end of the night feel like a weightless dream. Walking hand in hand with your boyfriend under the stars as the wind picks up, you think this must be how birds feel flying together. You feel so free.

"I'm fine with takeout for next time, you know. You don't have to be so...extravagant." You sigh.

"It's our anniversary. You deserved a real date."

You chew on your lip, bringing up the giant elephant you tried to ignore all evening. "What if someone took a photo-"

Your idol boyfriend kisses your worries away. "That's what the private room was for, baby."

You fidget anxiously. "What if one of the servers recognized you, or the kitchen staff-"

Jungkook shakes his head, smiling, "My friends come here with their girlfriends all the time."

"Yeah, but they're not you."

Jungkook hugs you, leaning the weight of his body into yours. You stumble into the side of his bike and giggle but hug him tighter.

Under the dark night, the yellow street lamps, you give Jungkook a chaste kiss.

He smiles, licking his lips and kissing you again.

"What if someone sees!"

"The restaurant has been closed for over an hour, everyone's gone home," he murmurs into your lips.

"Not the staff," you mumble as he kisses your neck.

"No one is around," he whispers teasingly. He wants you, here, now, all of you around him. "This might be the only time we can..."

Maybe it was the romance of the night, or your need to please him after such a grand gesture, or your ache to indulge in him and his irresistible charm, but you couldn't find it in you to stop Jungkook's advances, even when his hand went under your dress.

He grips under your thigh, hiking your leg over his hip.

You lean against the seat of his motorcycle. This is crazy, this is insane. It's like he's asking to get caught. He's insane. He's...so sexy.

You hide your face into his shoulder, listening to him quickly unzip his pants.

It's so out in the open, so impulsive. The bike's metal is cold against your thighs and Jungkook is so so hot. You grip his biceps, nails digging into his big muscles. The angle is awkward and the stretch is tight, and his first thrust in knocks the wind out of you.

Fuck...fuuck...it feels so good, he smells so nice, and your adrenaline is so high over the thought of you both getting caught you think you may come with only a few more deep plunges of his cock inside your tight walls.

Until you think you might have caught something out of the corner of your eye and you hastily stop him and plunk his helmet right on top of Jungkook's head, concealing his identity.

Jungkook hugs you close and you laugh when his helmet knocks into your forehead. "C'mon you crazy. Let's get out of here and finish what we started, hmm?"

Jungkook was worked up, painfully hard, and you very naughtily only made it so much worse for him on the ride home with your body pressed tight against his back and your hands caressing his abs down to his cock. He almost takes you again once he arrives in the safety of his garage. He almost takes you in the elevator when it feels like time stretches the closer you get to his floor. He almost takes you right against his front door as you play with his belt buckle and nip at his neck while he fumbles to open the lock.

And then back in seclusion again, back home, he can have you finally...

Jungkook drops you onto soft sheets, crawling over you.

"I want to tie you up." It is a special day.

"Okay."

"Yeah?" he smiles cutely, or perhaps deviously, it's so hard to tell sometimes with your boyfriend.

"Yeah," you kiss him, "Happy Anniversary." You kiss him again. "Please, tie me up, Jungkook," you whisper in his ear.

"Fuck." Jungkook has been practicing his knots, and he decides he wants your hands behind your back, one of your legs tied to his headboard. He secures a knot under your knee, spreading your legs.

Perfect. You're perfect. You were perfect tonight, the way your eyes sparkled during your date with him, perfect when you cheekily teased him and that sparkle turned mischievous, and now you're so perfect as you look at him shyly, your eyes shining in anticipation at what he's going to do next to you.

Jungkook can't wait to make those eyes cry in pure bliss tonight.

He kept the expensive lingerie you wore tonight for him on. He pushes your panties to the side so he can run his fingers along your slit, gathering your wetness to push back into you. You're so wet for him, already soaking from the night's previous activities.

"How's it feel, you okay?" he asks, "Nothing too tight?"

"No," you mewl out, squirming against his knots.

"Ugh, Noona...you’re so fucking wet," he grunts, quickening his pace as he watches his fingers disappear inside you. He presses down on your untied thigh to hold you still and hooks his fingers inside you, pads prodding around until you arch your back, responding to his stroking of you.

When your boyfriend sets his mind on something, there's nothing that can stop him, and Jungkook's decided he is going to make you fall apart, put you back together, mold you for him.

He strokes you with his fingers until your thighs are shaking. You grip onto your bindings, let the rope around your fingers ground you as you tighten your hold and clench down on Jungkook's digits.

"Ahh that's it, look at you, so pretty, so fucking pretty. You're my fucking girl, all fucking mine."

"Oh, Jungkook." You're so close, it's building, tickling and deep and so overpowering, letting go is the only thing your body can do now. You spasm around Jungkook's digits, so tight around his fingers they finally stop their unrelenting movement. He pulls down the cup of your bra to massage your breasts until you fully relax and your harsh breathing becomes only soft pants.

You're tired but you open your mouth wide and invite him in when Jungkook crawls higher, positioning his throbbing cock against your lips. He slides his length over your tongue and down your throat until you're choking, gagging. And he fucks your mouth again and again, until you're sloppy, crying from his thickness, at how tight it feels, at how good it feels to see his brows furrow and his tongue play with the ring on his lower lip as he watches you choke down his length.

"You like that? You like being treated like a slut, yeah?" You whimper against his cock, thick and hot on your tongue. "My dirty little slut."

He grunts out louder, fucking your throat faster, deeper. Your high pitched whimpers match his moaning, becoming louder and more protracted, until he stills, his hips stuttering, and you start to feel his hot cum pool in your mouth. Jungkook slumps down against you, lying his head on your stomach.

You let his juices flow out of your lips and down your chin as you take in breaths. You're so warm and soft between your legs, everything about you is soft, your skin, the curves of your body, and he enjoys grabbing at you, holding you in his arms. Your slick is covering your pussy, and Jungkook starts his ministrations again, fingers deep in your sex.

"Noona, you look so sexy." You look down at your handsome boyfriend, smiling in between your legs. You feel so vulnerable and exposed to him, unable to shy away from his gaze, but the fluttering inside you jumps to your heart when Jungkook smiles and mouths 'I love you.'

He fingers you skillfully, and you don't even realize how close you were until you're coming again, body programmed to give Jungkook what he craves. He continues to play with your pussy, stroking against your sensitive walls. It becomes too much, inescapable pleasure, burning you from the inside out. The sounds of sex fills his quiet bedroom, the noise of your slick, your whimpering, your cries. He closes his eyes and revels in it, taking in your sweet sounds and the smell of you.

The pressure is too much, "I can't, no more," you whine.

"I'm not done. Be a a good girl for me, Noona." You clench around him, at his words spoken so heatedly yet so softly.

"No- m-more," you cry out.

"I said I'm not done, understand?"

You shudder, writhing under him, your bindings pulling tight around your limbs. He replaces his fingers with his cock. You clench around him tighter as suctions his lips to your nipple, sucking harshly, thumb pressing against your clit. "Fuck, you feel so good. I could fuck you every day." He finds your tied wrists, interlacing his fingers in yours, rocking his hips into your core so deep the pleasure blinds you.

You breathe through your teeth, limbs locked at the pleasure inflicted across your body.

You cum in silent ecstasy, drenching his cock in your juices. Jungkook's release follows you almost immediately, "Yes —ah— yes." His breathy words echo in your ears, every other thought lost in his presence.

Jungkook finishes and quickly unties you, pulling you into his embrace. "Let's go shower?"

"I think...a bath...my legs," you pant.

Jungkook kisses you sweetly and nods, lifting you in his arms.

You sigh and rest against him. You feel secure and safe with Jungkook, in his strong embrace, the way he holds you easily, you know he's got you and he'll never let anything happen to you. It's probably why you let him get away with so much, because he always takes care of your needs in the end, makes you feel loved like no other.

You gently kiss his neck, cuddled against him as his large tub fills with water.

The filling bathtub makes it easier on your tired limbs and you turn around, straddling your boyfriend.

"Mmm," Jungkook smiles against your lips as you place a series of quick kisses against his mouth. "Just relax, Noona."

"What? You don't want to?" you giggle.

"I just want to relax with you."

"Well maybe I don't want to take no for an answer," you tease.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," you sigh, letting your body slump into him more.

"I don't think I can go another round tonight," he laughs.

"Really, you sure you're okay?"

"Ahh maybe I'm getting old too."

"TOO?"

Jungkook laughs and hugs your tightly, tickling you before you anger becomes too palpable.

"I love you."

"I love you too, old man."

---

Let me know your favorite day :3

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #yandere bts #bts yandere #yandere jungkook #bts imagines

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wonryllis · 4 months

Text

after hours, i can be whatever you want me to be ⭑ ( lhs. )

⭑ FEATURING horrendously down down bad lee heeseung x kinda naive philophobic fem!reader. where heeseung has no intentions of escaping your cages, forever remaining under the spell of your love. ( ARCHIVE? )

⭑ GENRE & WARNINGS fluff, toxic situation, almost kissing, mildly suggestive WORDCOUNT 0.834k

she's crazy but i love her.

heeseung's steps are slow and calculated, eyes glued on your figure trying to make your way to his car. stumbling and wobbly in heels you (kind of) seem accustomed to, feet clicking against the pavement in a hasty stride. he's worried. you were out with friends past midnight on a weekday, called him all drunk to pick you up from the bar and now you are barely able to walk straight, ankle on the verge of twisting at any given moment but you wouldn't let him hold you. he's worried sick.

"angel please just hold onto me hm?" he pleads rushing over when you visibly slip on an uneven part, hands almost gripping around your waist as you manage to keep your balance, staggering back into his arms in a couple of steps.

"you! who are you!" your hands push against his chest as you turn around startled. there it goes, again! heeseung sighs knowing what's to come. it's the third time in the last fifteen minutes, going over this exact conversation word to word.

"it's heeseung, your cousin's friend and your friend," he makes sure to emphasize on 'your friend' trying to stop this before it gets further into the loop.

"where's my cousin?" you ask, looking around the rather empty parking lot.

"he working," heeseung's explanation is dry because he knows you'll cut him off before he can say anything more,"and why are you here?" just like that. he remembers the first time this happened, when you were actually sober and met him at your cousin brother: jay's workplace. you showed up out of nowhere, without any notice and jay was going bonkers at how he'll get you back home when he has the most important client waiting for him in the next room. heeseung hadn't thought much when he offered to drop you off, a favor for a friend that was all it was to him.

"because you called me, angel," but god was he wrong, for he swears the moment he laid his eyes on you he was a goner. you were too darn pretty to be just a favor. you were younger, a party girl always running out to frat and sorority gatherings, bars and clubs. often calling jay to pick you up to avoid letting your parents know of your shenanigans.

"why did i call you and not my cousin?" everytime he had wished it was him and not jay, even though ultimately he was the one who went. carrying your cute drunk ass to your mansion and getting you to your room as discreetly as possible. you are a rich girl, two worlds apart and heeseung has felt it in many ways than not.

"because i'm your cousin's friend and you know me well," heeseung never thought he'd ever be more than just your cousin's friend to you. at least he hopes he is more. you have done things with him that you'd definitely not do with just your cousin's friend. a space curtaining acquaintance and lover, he hangs dangerously cold and heedless.

"so where's my cousin?" between days left ghosted and nights you throw your arms around him he stands unsure of his place in your life. at times he feels you know he's the one who could treat you better than any of the guys you cry for. yet there are moments when there's this sturdy wall you build, holding him away for the sake of not losing him like others. afraid of love is what you refuse you are but heeseung knows your conceptions of it are a little too twisted, broken he dare say. and his love for you is so far and conflicted to the things you have experienced, he understands the lengths and the time it will take for you to recognize and accept him.

"you know what, i'm getting you in the car myself," in an instance his hands grip at the back of knees and the curve of your waist, hauling you up in his arms. he walks quick to his car parked at the far end, smiling through the constant pouty mumbles of yours. eyeing you every two seconds, not being able to resist that pretty face of yours.

it is absolutely not in him to ever resist that pretty face of yours, your pretty eyes and your pretty lips as they graze against his own in gentle brushes. arms looped around his neck and thighs resting on the soft matress of your bed, albeit on each side of his own, yet again. sitting on his lap, so close, bodies pressed. "heeseungie, please stay," your voice a sultry whisper of a whine, a naive vixen, if that's even a thing.

lee heeseung knows he will never have the power to refuse you, he will be whatever you want him to be for how ever long you will want him to be.

you make him crazy and he loves you for that.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @okwonyo @enhabooks @jjunae @criminalyun @enhacrumbsss @oddracha @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @mxxnintheskyreblogs

#enhypen imagines #BROTHER's BSF trope In A NEW wAY #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen heeseung imagines #heeseung imagines #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen reactions #enhypen headcanons #enhypen hard hours

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alyrasturnz · 3 months

Note

you're so good at writing arguements and stuff i just finished reading "but daddy i love him" and oh my GOD. pls write a matt x reader angsty tosotd oneshot with an arguement and an apology

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR

❐ summary » y/n and matt had an anniversary dinner planned, a special evening meant to celebrate their bond. but once again, matt stayed late at work, putting aside their plans. this wasn't the first time—he had done it countless times before, each instance chipping away at y/n's patience. finally, she reached her breaking point. sick and tired of his neglect, she stormed out, calling things off in a fit of frustration. deep down, she hoped he would run after her, show her that she mattered.

❐ pairings » bf!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » argument (resolved), swearing, lowkey toxic!matt, toxic relationship dynamic

❐ a/n && w/c » here’s something small to keep yall fed while i work on something bigger… • 1.98k

in the dim glow of their intimate living room, the air between you and matt crackled with a palpable intensity, the kind that precedes a storm.

the rain outside mirrored the tempest brewing within, each droplet a thunderous note in the symphony of nature's fury, crashing onto the pavement with a relentless rhythm.

earlier that evening, their argument had been ignited by a matter so seemingly inconsequential, yet it had fanned the flames of discord into a roaring inferno.

matt had neglected the anniversary dinner plans, choosing instead to linger late at the warehouse, an oversight that cast a long shadow over the evening's expectations.

you had devoted the entire day to crafting a special meal, meticulously setting the table with candles and flowers, your heart brimming with anticipation to celebrate your love.

but as the hours slipped away and the food grew cold, your excitement metamorphosed first into disappointment, then hardened into a simmering anger.

and you might have let this transgression slide. but now you found yourself unable to, as this was the third and final strike.

when matt eventually crossed the threshold, exhausted and oblivious to the emotional storm brewing within you, the dam of your restraint finally burst.

"do you even care about us anymore?" you demanded, your voice quivering with the weight of unspoken sorrow and pent-up frustration.

matt, taken aback, attempted to articulate an explanation as he gently closed the door. "y/n, i'm sorry. time slipped away from me."

"lost track of time?" you echoed, your eyes welling up with tears. "do you have any idea how that makes me feel? like i'm not important to you!" you exclaimed, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions.

matt sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "it's not like that, y/n. things come up and—"

"things come up?" you repeated in disbelief, your voice tinged with incredulity as you grabbed your bag.

"why can't you just listen to me for once?" matt's voice rose, each word laden with frustration and desperation.

you crossed your arms, your eyes blazing with anger. "i have listened, matt! but you never seem to care about what i need," you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and fury.

matt took a step closer, his voice softer but no less intense. "i care, y/n. but you keep pushing me away," he murmured, his eyes searching yours for any glimmer of understanding.

you shook your head, tears beginning to spill from your eyes. "maybe because i'm tired of fighting for something that feels so one-sided," you whispered, your voice breaking under the weight of your emotions.

an oppressive silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating, as if the very air had thickened with unspoken words and lingering tension.

the silence that hung in the air signaled the breaking point of their relationship, a palpable void filled with the weight of unspoken grievances and shattered dreams.

the silence that ensnared them, coiling around their throats and stifling their breaths, as though the very air conspired to suffocate the remnants of their faltering connection.

finally, you could endure no longer. "this time, i’ve had enough," you declared, your voice trembling with the weight of your resolve. "i’m leaving," you stated, the finality of your words hanging in the air like a solemn decree.

matt’s eyes widened in shock, a mixture of disbelief and desperation flooding his gaze. "y/n, wait—" he stammered, his voice a fragile plea against the impending void.

but you were already at the door, your resolve unyielding to his desperate entreaties. "don't call me," you uttered, your voice quivering with a tumultuous blend of anger and sorrow. "it's over," you declared, the finality of your words echoing with irrevocable certainty.

as the door slammed shut with a resounding finality, matt stood there, stunned into silence. he longed to chase after you, to mend the fractured pieces of their relationship, but his feet felt as though they were anchored to the floor, paralyzed by the weight of his own inaction.

a surge of anger and melancholy surged through matt, the emotions intertwining like a tempest within him. tears streamed down his face, carving silent paths of sorrow, as he ran a trembling hand through his disheveled hair, each motion a testament to his inner turmoil.

"fuck!" he yelled, kicking the door with a force that echoed his frustration.

he let out a series of pathetic sobs, his back desperately seeking support against the unyielding door as he slid down, finally collapsing to the floor. burying his face into his hands, he succumbed to the torrent of despair that engulfed him.

outside, y/n walked into the pouring rain, the heavens weeping in unison with the turmoil within. each step felt like a penance, their heart laden with regret, a sorrow that seemed to seep into the very fabric of the storm around them.

deep down, you harbored a fragile hope that matt would follow, that he would stand beneath your window, the rain mingling with his fervent cries of love, throwing pebbles to capture your attention, a modern-day romeo desperate to mend the rift between you.

but for now, all you had was the relentless rain and the haunting echo of your own words, reverberating through the solitude. you wished with all your heart that matt could see beyond his pride and comprehend that, at the core of it all, your deepest desire was simply to be with him.

the rain soaked through your clothes, each droplet a cold reminder of your solitude, as you sank down onto the porch. hugging your knees to your chest, you leaned your back against the unyielding front door, seeking comfort in its solidity amidst the tempest that raged both outside and within.

tears mingled with the raindrops on your face, indistinguishable in the deluge, as you struggled to stifle your sobs. each breath was a battle, the weight of your sorrow pressing down like the relentless rain, blurring the line between your inner turmoil and the storm around you.

your mind raced with a torrent of memories from happier times, each recollection a bittersweet contrast to the present, intensifying the pain of the argument. the agony grew stronger, like a relentless tide, as the echoes of laughter and love clashed with the harsh reality of discord.

you wished with all your heart that matt would emerge from the shadows, wrap you in his arms, and whisper reassurances that everything would be okay. in that embrace, you longed to find solace, a sanctuary where the storm of emotions would finally subside, leaving only the promise of peace and understanding.

but all you are left with is the cacophony of the rain crashing onto the pavement, each drop a thunderous reminder of his absence, and the echoing thoughts that reverberate through the hollow chambers of your mind.

you had only left because you felt as though his indifference had cast you into the shadows, making you believe you held no significance in the dazzling tapestry of his life.

and watching him run out to you would have mended the fractures in your heart, sealing the fissures with the balm of his presence, but alas, he remained still, leaving those cracks unhealed.

little did you know that he stood just beyond the threshold, separated from you by a mere sliver of space and yet an insurmountable chasm of unspoken words and unfulfilled hopes.

all you’ve ever needed lay just on the other side of the door, concealed within reach yet veiled by the intangible barrier of hesitation and unvoiced desires.

»--•--«

under the cloak of night, matt stood outside your window, the clock striking 3:00 am, as if the very fabric of time conspired to weave an intricate tapestry of suspense and unspoken anticipation.

the rain has ceased, leaving in its wake a profound, quiet stillness that permeates the air, as if the world itself holds its breath in reverent silence, suspended in a moment of tranquil contemplation.

with a trembling hand, he delicately picked up a small pebble and tossed it gently at the window, the soft tap shattering the silence like a whispered secret in the dead of night.

"y/n!" he called out, his voice raw with emotion, each syllable trembling with desperation. "y/n, please come to the window!"

you stirred from your restless sleep, heart pounding as you recognized the voice, each word echoing through the stillness of the night like a haunting melody that refused to be ignored.

you shut your eyes tightly, turning away as you begged for the night to envelop you once more, longing for the embrace of dreams to whisk you away from the waking world.

but another soft tap shattered the fragile silence, compelling you to sit up, your senses heightened and your heart pounding with an unspoken urgency.

you approached the window and peered out, your eyes locking with matt’s desperate gaze, the depth of his anguish reflecting in the moonlit night, creating a silent dialogue of unspoken sorrow and longing.

"i’m so sorry," matt began, his voice cracking under the weight of his remorse. "i messed up. i should’ve been there for you, for us. i let youtube get in the way, and i hurt you. but please, believe me when i say i love you more than anything. you are my world, and i can’t stand the thought of losing you."

tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt plea. matt continued, his voice growing stronger with each word. "i know words aren't enough, but i promise to do better. i promise to make you feel loved and cherished every single day. please, give me another chance."

you remained silent, your heart torn between the lingering pain of past wounds and the fragile hope of reconciliation, each beat a testament to the inner turmoil that threatened to overwhelm you.

matt took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. "remember when we first met? how we laughed about the silliest things and stayed up all night talking? i want to go back to that. i want to be the person who makes you smile."

he paused, searching for the right words, his gaze steady yet filled with vulnerability. "i know i've been distant, and i know i've hurt you. but i've realized something important: life without you is empty, a hollow echo of what it could be. i can't change the past, but i can promise you a future filled with love, respect, and understanding. i'll listen more, i'll be there more, and i'll never take you for granted again."

your resolve began to waver, the sincerity in matt's voice piercing through your defenses. "i've been talking to my brothers, trying to understand where i went wrong. i know i have a lot to work on, and i'm willing to do whatever it takes. therapy, couples counseling, anything. i just need you to know that i'm committed to making this work."

matt's eyes were pleading, his heart laid bare in a raw display of vulnerability. "please, y/n. give me a chance to prove that i can be the partner you deserve. i love you more than words can express, and i'm ready to fight for us."

your heart softened at his sincerity, the pain of the argument beginning to fade like mist in the morning sun. you opened the window, letting the cool night air rush in, carrying with it a sense of renewal. "matt," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of hope and apprehension. "come inside."

as matt climbed through the window, you felt a glimmer of hope flicker in the depths of your heart. you embraced, holding each other tightly, as if anchoring yourselves in a storm. both knowing that while the road ahead wouldn't be easy, your love was worth fighting for, a beacon guiding you through the darkness.

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lovifie · 6 months

Text

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 11: Gaz’s Date

Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

W: Gaz x Reader, jealous Gaz, the tiniest bit of toxic Gaz, degradation, spanking, rough sex.

A ruckus at the door brings you out of the book you were reading, a mischievous laugh on the other side of the door and when it finally opens you can't help but mimic Gaz's wide smile as he runs to you. He holds your face kissing you before asking: “Do you wanna go on a date with me tomorrow?”

There is an urge to the way he asks, making you want to say no just to tease him; but it's been days since you left the house so you quickly nod. He kisses you again, pulling the book off your hands and laying it down on the table (open, so you don't lose the page).

He softly pushes you back with the kiss, making you lie down on the sofa with him on top of you. You still wonder why he was in such a rush, and it gets answered when Soap enters the house panting and calling your name.

“I'm here, Johnny.” You say, waving your hand so he can see you from the door. His face lights up for the second it takes him to see Gaz is already lying on top of you, looking up at him with a shit-eating grin.

“Too slow, Johnny.” Gaz teases. “My date and I are already set.”

“Oh, away n' bile yer heid!” The scotsman complains, but still lays down on top of the two of you making you groan. You can tell Gaz is using his strength to take some of Soap's weight off of you, because you know damn well that if you had to lie under the two brick houses you would pop a lung.

You chuckle at Soap's dramatism, looking at Gaz. “What are you not telling me, you little shit?” He looks at you with a boyish smile on his face, mischief clear on his eyes, not even bothering to play it as innocent.

“There is this military gala that Price is making all of us attend.” He explains. “And now you are attending too.”

“Wait.” You say, reality is settling in. You slip from under him, sitting up and Gaz pushes Soap off of him making him fall on the floor; both of them sitting up on their new locations. “A military gala? Like… meeting your bosses and all of that? And like… what I'm supposed to do there? I don't-”

“Well technically…” Gaz cuts you off. “Price is our boss. And those that are over him usually leave really early, we go mostly to see old colleagues and get drunk. And you are attending… as my girl.”

“Our girl.” Soap quickly chimes in, correcting Gaz.

“Uh uhh” Gaz answers, shaking his finger. “My date, my girl. You already got yours.”

Gaz pulls you, sitting you on his lap as a petulant child who has been asked to share a toy.

“Oi, Garrick, don't make me beat yer arse.” Soap argues, but quiets down when you move his head to rest on your lap.

“But then… you are introducing me to your… friends?” You ask, anxiousness setting on your stomach. “Are you sure about it?”

Gaz furrows his eyebrow at your question. “Are you asking if I'm sure about letting my friends know about you?”

You look from Gaz to Soap, both with the same confused expression. “Bonnie, if I could I'll keep ye in my pocket just so I could show ye to every single person I come across.”

“Exactly, like…” Gaz looks at you confused. “I think you keep forgetting that we are obsessed with you, birdie.” He chuckles.

He hugs you, kissing your cheekbone. “I want to introduce you to everyone I know, birdie. You are somebody to drag about.”

His words help to ease the thoughts inside your brain, finally letting your anxiety travel to other important matters.

You gasp. “The dress John bought me is still at base…”

“Ye aren't wearing the same dress again.” Soap chimes in. “Ghost and Price are buying ye another one.”

“They are shopping together?” You ask, confused.

“Laswell is probably with them too, so don't worry, I'll be pretty.” Gaz explains, as if you know who the fuck Laswell is.

It is already nighttime when you leave the house, hand on hand with Gaz. Feeling the prettiest girl at the world with the constant compliments for the four men.

Once inside the venue, Gaz’s hand doesn't lift from your back. Always guiding you, introducing you to people and pulling you away from others that, according to him: “is not worth even knowing their names.”

Making sure to enunciate the “She's my partner” to anyone who asks, it was spoken before, that this was not the place to explain to everyone how the poly relationship worked to the old military men who were struggling to look up to your face and not stare at your chest.

It doesn't make the other three men complain any less, Price going “Garrick” whenever the sergeant becomes a little too enthusiastic about you and him. There are a couple of people that Ghost tells you, know about their arrangements. Not the tiny details, but enough to know that there is something between the four of them and that if you are involved with Gaz, you are involved with the rest.

One of those people, is Alex Keller. Whom Gaz is really excited to introduce you to, and who ends up sitting at the same table as you.

It is a round table, wide enough not to be able to reach Ghost's feet that is sitting right in front of you as you sit between Soap and Gaz. Gaz is also sitting next to Alex, and as the night goes on he slowly turns more and more towards him, giving you his back.

You turn to Soap, pout on your face. “I think my date is on a date with somebody else.” You know it is unfair, they haven't seen each other in years and are just catching up; still, you are glad Soap is next to you or else you'll feel quite alone.

“Ye can always make out with me.” Soap proposes, making you chuckle. “But I think I have an even better idea.”

Now, you know both sergeants are little mischievous shits; but the smile on Soap's face still makes you rethink on how much trouble you are going to get yourself into.

“Have any of us told ye that Gaz is a really jealous man?” Soap asks, leaning into your chair and resting his arm on the backrest of it. “Like, really jealous.”

“Gaz?” You ask, quite shocked that the so-sure-of-himself man is the jealous man out of the four.

Soap nods, smiling still. “When we started, Gaz and I were the ones that mixed the pairs, to say it simply. And Gaz knew Ghost and I were already messing with each other, still, at the beginning whenever I'd kiss Ghost, Gaz would turn his head. I promised ye, if I hadn't seen him suck my dick I'd guess he was homophobic.”

His choice of words as you cover your mouth so Gaz can't hear you laugh, leaning more onto Soap's side. “That's why he pulled me away from you on the sofa?” You ask and Soap quickly nods, a smile on his face.

“Especially ye, since you are the last addition. The three of us have been reassuring him that we love him to bits for years now, but ye still have a long road to go, bonnie.” He says, starting to look around looking for somebody. “And I think I have an idea of how to show ye.”

He waves at somebody behind you after a second, urging them to come closer. You look behind, seeing a tan man approach with a smirk on his face.

“Soap, hermano, long time no see” He says, clapping hands with Soap. “What have you been up to?”

“Alejandro, let me introduce ye to Birdie.” He says, before saying your actual name and repeating Alejandro's name to you. He shakes your hand, making you smile at the formalities and he winks at you, satisfied with making you smile. “And actually, I think she can use some of yer help.” He signals the man to bend down to whisper to him. “How do ye feel about messing with Gaz a bit?”

“Let me guess, if I say yes I get to flirt with the pretty lady?” He asks, whispering as well and laughing when Soap nods. “A huevo, hermano. I'm in.”

He pulls an empty chair from a close by table, Soap pulls your chair and Alejandro sits between you and Gaz. Who has yet to notice the treachery taking place behind him.

It is easy to forget that you are doing this to get a raise out of Gaz, especially with how funny the conversation gets between Alejandro and Soap. Telling you about Soap's absolute lack of ability to learn Spanish, and how it almost got him into problems when he accidentally asked for a male prostitute instead of a cigar, when he kept getting the words puro and puto mixed up.

You are laughing out loud, almost crying for it, not just you, the three of you. Alejandro is rocking back and forth on his chair, and his hand lands on your thigh, innocent enough that it doesn't even make you uncomfortable. But not innocent enough for Gaz, who has been side-eyeing the three of you for a bit now, Alex chuckling when he noticed he had stopped listening to him.

The moment Alejandro's hand lands on you, he springs into action, standing up and walking behind you. “Birdie. Can I talk to you for a minute? In private.”

You stand up, knees weak at the look on Gaz's face. He easily pulls your chair back so you can walk. He grabs your hand once you take the first step and pulls you towards the bathroom stalls. You look back to Soap, and see him, Alejandro and Alex who have just taken your place smiling at you with a thumbs up.

He pushes you inside the stall, locking the door behind you and then presses you against the wall, his hips pressed plush against yours. His hand grabs your jaw, making you look at him to his face. “What the fuck do you think you were doing, birdie?”

“What?” You ask, playing dumb.

“What?” He asks back, high pitched voice mimicking yours, his other hand raising to pinch your nipple through the thin fabric of the dress making you hiss. “Do you think I'm blind? Deaf? Or just plain old stupid? Hm?”

“I don't know what- AH!” He pinches hard, making you whine, cutting you off.

“Don't lie to me, birdie.” He says, face getting close to yours where you can feel his breath on yours. “Has Alejandro left you stupid or something?”

“You were ignoring me!” You complain, trying to act tough as if his degrading tone wasn't making you grow wet by the minute.

“Oh! So that's it!” He asks, dry laughing. “I speak with a person for one minute!” He says, raising a finger to accentuate his words. “And you are already looking for another dick to choke on, right?”

“That's not true!” You argue, trying to avoid his gaze.

“Then show me, birdie. Show me mine is the only dick you want to choke on.” He says, rubbing his crotch against your abdomen.

The moment he pulls back, you drop to your knees helping him get his belt undone. He lowers his briefs, shaft springing free and pulsing right in front of your face. He is already hard and it makes you wonder whether he was already when he stood up from the table.

He grabs your wrist, and when his tip is inside your warm mouth he thrusts forward hitting the back of your throat hard making you gag but pulling your hands behind his back to prevent you from moving back.

It’s ironic how similar it is to the first night you met him, when Price cuffed you around his waist.

He thrust forward hard, your eyes watering as you fight your gag reflex. You wonder for a second if he is actually getting any kind of pleasure other than the feeling of humiliation you.

One of his hands moves to the back of your head, pushing you closer until your nose reaches his happy trail. You look up to him, vision blurry with tears.

He groans, pulling your hair to push you back and then up to have you standing. He turns you around, pushing your head against the wall. “I guess I have no other option but to fuck your ungrateful pussy, hm? Fuck you stupid so you can stop whoring yourself to every man? How many more dicks do you need, birdie? How much of a slut are you that four dicks the size of your bloody forearms are not enough?”

It shouldn't be turning you on as it is, every single feminist cell on your body getting ignored by all your blood flowing to your cunt pulsing with anticipation.

He pulls your dress up, pushing your panties to the side before probing your entrance with his tip. He knows it's gonna sting, but in his jealousy-driven mind, that's what he wants. For your body to remember him tomorrow.

He pushes forward, slowly, covering your mouth when you cry at the sting; waiting stills once he bottoms out to let go of your mouth.

He grabs both your wrists on his hand behind your back, still keeping your head pushed against the wall. There is a loud sound of his hips slapping against yours, accompanied by the moans and pants of both of you.

You could as well have the door open with the way you are fucking, everyone that walks by would know perfectly fine what's going on.

He bends forward, close to your face, talking to you through gritted teeth. “This is what you wanted, right? To get fucked like a whore? While everyone outside knows that you are getting fuck? Filthy, filthy slut.”

He moves back, letting go of your head only to slap your ass hard enough to leave an imprint. It makes you jump, making him grunt when you clench around him.

“Fucking. Take it. Whore.” He says, snapping his hips at every word, knocking the breath out of you. His heavy balls keep slapping against your clit, sending shockwaves up your column making your toes curl.

He slaps your ass again, hard, always on the same spot. And he doesn't relent until he starts to see the little purple dots of a bruise forming on your asscheek. It has tears threatening to fall from your eyes, still pulsing around him so close for release.

“I bet you are scared I'm gonna leave you hanging, right, whore?” He asks, reading your mind. The thought of the man finishing before you and leaving you wanting your release was on your mind since he made you stand from the table. “You don't even care about anything else, do you? As long as you get to cum, you don't care that I talk to you like you are trash, do you? Such a fucking whore, only thinking with your cunt.”

He chuckles behind you, not sparing you a second to breathe as your orgasm comes closer and closer. “Then cum, you fucking whore. I don't have all night.”

And you do, whaling his name as your whole body shakes when the orgasm rains over you. Your head hits the tiling with a loud TONK as you do, making Gaz laugh meanly behind you at your lack of control.

He lets go of your hands, letting you support yourself on your hands instead of your face. He holds your hips instead, thrusting in and out fast and shallow, going after his own release.

You clench around him, the overstimulation getting to you and that is enough for Gaz to spill thick ropes of his spent inside of you. Pulling out to see it spill out, just for him to shove his dick back inside making you moan when fucks his cum back inside of you.

“Kyle!” You whine, needing a moment to breathe. He chuckles behind you, getting his dick out and moving to grab toilet paper to dry himself off you. You look under you, between your legs seeing the thin strip of his seed spilling out of you onto the floor.

“Aw, birdie, you're letting it go to waste.” He comments behind you, while he puts his pants back up.

You give him a look making him chuckle and you stand up, leaning back on the sink with wobbly legs. He walks between them, pushes one of your legs apart with his and gets two of his fingers back inside of your saturated cunt.

You groan, slapping his arm. “I'm just making sure that you can feel my cum slipping out of you for the rest of the night so you can stop acting like a whore.” He says, beaming with a smile.

He takes his fingers out, helping you clean up and throw the paper away. He holds you in his arms, the jealousy flushed out of his system turning him back onto his clingy self.

You look up to him, his eyes shiny with love on them. Smiling widely at you. You don't know what pushes you to say it, but once it leaves your lips you are not sure who is more flabbergasted out of the two.

“I think I love you, Kyle”

“Wh- Bird- I- You can't…” he sighs, resting his head on yours. “You can't say such a thing right after I called you a whore, Birdie!” He complains, trying to hide the smile on his voice.

“Hm, don't call me a whore then!” You argue, the same smile on your face. “Are you not going to say it bac-”

Before you can finish the question, his lips are on yours. Plush soft lips kissing you lovingly, he is almost hugging your head with how tightly he is hugging your shoulders. “I think I love you too, Birdie. You little minx”

You chuckle against his lips, butterflies on your stomach as if mere minutes ago it wasn't his dick you were feeling inside of you. It's a silly feeling, but a warm one indeed.

He kisses you again, a soft peck on your lips before softly patting your butt (the side he didn't assault before) and saying. “Wash your face and get out before they think I murdered you.”

You chuckle, getting spooked at your reflection on the mirror. You grab paper again, working on taking most of the mascara running down your face and the smudged lipstick.

You do a decent job at it, cleaning Gaz's lips as well and walking out of the bathroom, still feeling your knees ready to give up. It is clear that whichever high rank that was at the party must have left, because the quiet dinner from before is slowly turning into a party.

On your table, only Ghost, Soap and Price are still sitting down. Most likely waiting to leave altogether, but it makes the walk easier and as you try to sit down, Price pulls you into his lap, Gaz groaning behind you.

Price kisses your temple. “Are you ready to leave?” He asks softly, and you shake your head grabbing the champagne bottle for the middle of the table. “I'm finally out of the house, I want a party.”

It's late at night when the five of you finally make it home. Everyone's a little bit tipsy, enough to make everyone clumsy and to have an easy laugh at everything. That's how you go to sleep, helping everyone get naked too tired to bother with any sleepwear. Between giggles, kisses and smacks to everyone's butts with the corresponding “EH!”

It is a comedic image, the bed not big enough but everyone still stubborn enough to sleep altogether. Too clingy to sleep apart from each other.

Price wishes he could sleep like this every night, knowing the five of you are safe and within reach.

If only he knew he wasn't going to be able to do it again.

TADAAA

Hi lovelies!! 💗

We are now on the last stretch, only one more chapter left. And it has me on my feelings to see the series end 😭

But anyway, hope you like it 💗

Also, debating whether to upload the last chapter later today or tomorrow, so we will see.

Make sure to leave a comment or a reblog if you did 💗💗

TagList: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @cassiecasluciluce @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tired-writer04 @evolutionarry @prettykinkysoul @pagesfalling @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3 @tooloudarts @sodavrrr @anirok2 @lilliumrorum @ladyxtiger @multy-fandom-lover @thriving-n-jiving @lotionlamp @spicyspicyliving @xxeiraxx @vampirekilmerfic @keiraslayz @risingofjupiter @witchthewriter @soupinasock @phantomly27 @arbesa-mind @multifandomheathenannie @spadekip @cmbghost @herefor-tojis-tits @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce

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buckys-metal-arm · 5 months

Text

Comfort

Bucky x GN!Reader

Description: three instances of Bucky associating someone stroking his hair with comfort.

Warnings: fluff and angst, mentions of illness, period-accurate toxic masculinity, mentions of nightmares, no y/n used, only pronoun used is "you"

A/N: this is based on something I wrote for my self indulgent self-insert OC Juniper, where Bucky tells them the story of the first two memories and then decided I wanted to also do an x Reader with a similar idea.

-------------------------------------------------------

1930

One time, when Bucky was young, he was hit with an awful bout of illness. He felt like there was a hundred pound weight on his chest, and he couldn’t stop coughing. Steve kept trying to sneak in to go see his friend, but would be shooed away before he could actually see his friend. Rebecca, Bucky’s little sister, would slip notes from her and Steve under his door as often as she could, trying to remind him he wasn’t alone. One night, when his sickness got real bad, his mother came in to sit up with him. Since it was the Depression, she would be up pretty much every night working on sewing alterations until her fingers cramped and bled. But tonight, she was staying with her Baby Boy. She rubs Vick’s on his chest in hopes of soothing the cough, and sits by his bedside. When Bucky’s coughing gets so bad that he can’t fall asleep, she sits on the mattress next to him, running their fingers through his hair until he falls asleep. She saw how much it soothed him, and from then on whenever he was sick she would stay with him, running her fingers through her son’s hair to calm him.

1942

Bucky was an adult now, dressed in a soldier’s uniform and trying to pretend he was proud of that. He’d just gotten home from the Stark Expo, and found that his mother and sister had stayed up to wait for him. Rebecca hugs her brother goodbye before heading to bed, but Bucky and Winnefred stay up late talking. During the conversation everything hits him at once. He’d spent the entire day forcing a smile and pretending to be brave, being strong in front of his date, of Steve, of anyone who saw him and saw a young man ready to take on the world and fight for his country.

When in reality?

He’s been terrified ever since he learned he was drafted.

He broke down in front of his mother, telling her that he’s not ready, that he’s scared, and that he hates that he’s scared. That he’s a coward. But his mother shakes her head, and hugs her son tight. She doesn’t tell him to “man up” or that he needs to “get ahold of himself”, just held him and assured him that it’s okay, that he’s not a coward, that he’s not weak for being afraid. She took him back to his bedroom, getting him settled under the covers and sitting at his bedside, stroking his hair the same way she did when he was young.

“Rest now, James,” she whispered, brushing his hair out of his eyes, “you don’t have to be strong tonight…”

Now

Bucky woke up screaming, drenched in sweat. He tried to take deep breaths, to calm himself down, but the nightmares that had forced him awake still ravaged his subconscious.

“Bucky?” He whipped around to see you, eyes tired but still filled with concern, “are you alright, Baby?”

“Yeah,” he gasped out, running a hand through his hair, “yeah, yeah, I'm…I-I’m…”

“Oh,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around him and laying your head on his back, “oh Sweetheart…”

You hugged him close, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“Can you feel my breath?” You asked, running your fingers along his stomach. Bucky nodded, “good, Buck. Can you follow my breathing?”

He matched your breaths as best he can, and you held him until he calmed down. Once his breathing evened out, you pressed another kiss to the crook of his neck and smiled softly.

“What do you need to feel better, Sweet Boy?” You asked, “what do you need to go back to sleep?”

Bucky chewed his lip for a moment, trying to decide. His mind drifted to his youth, to his mother carding her fingers through his hair and the feeling of serenity it brought him.

“M-my hair,” he murmured. You looked confused, “will you stroke my hair for a bit?”

He didn't give you a chance to respond.

“Sorry,” Bucky's blue eyes wouldn't meet theirs, “that sounds stupid, but my Ma used to do it when I was younger but–”

“Shhhh,” you slid in front of him, “it's not stupid. Of course I'll stroke your hair.”

His blue eyes met yours, relief flooding his gaze.

“Lay back down, Sweetheart,” he settled himself on top of you, laying his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeat. You cradled his head against your body, running your fingers through his dark hair. His eyes were already starting to feel heavy, and he nuzzled into your neck, a little hum escaping him.

“Get some rest, Bucky,” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he started to give in to sleep, “I love you.”

The same feeling of serenity overtook him, and Bucky drifted off in his partner's arms.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky fanfic #mcu bucky barnes

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suntoru · 6 months

Text

─ ✰ TO YOU, WHO I LOVED THE MOST.

─ SYNOPSIS: letting go is hard to do. satoru can't imagine a universe where you are not his world, you'll always be. he'll always love you, just in secret.

─ WARNINGS: angst, breaking up, mentions of a toxic relationship, reader referred to as his pretty girl once, crying, swearing, 3k words

─ AUTHOR'S NOTE: dedicated to one of my moots. i'll always love u no matter where you go, even if it means i can't be there with you. i'm so incredibly proud of you, never forget how much i treasure you. 그래도, 놔두기가 힘들어.

he's practiced this. he had rehearsed this moment meticulously, running through the scenario in his mind countless times like a well-worn script. standing before the mirror in his bedroom, he'd practiced every word, every gesture, until they felt like second nature. it was supposed to be simple: just a quick stop to gather his belongings, utter a final goodbye, and then depart. and then cry for the rest of his life because he won't ever love anybody in the same way ever again.

in his carefully constructed mental landscape, there were no more than five conceivable outcomes, each neatly categorized and mentally prepared for. but you, clutching onto his sleeve like no tomorrow, begging him to stay wasn't one of them.

your knuckles strain against the fabric, turning white under the force of your grip, while fat tears trace pathways down your cheeks. every word that tumbles from your lips is tinged with disorientation, punctuated by cracks that mirror the fractures in your heart. you're crying, your sobs echoing in the small space between you, and with each tear shed, it feels like another piece of him crumbles away.

your breathing is ragged, hysterically bawling your eyes out as he stands there solemnly. it's a painful reminder that his presence in your life only brings you heartache and agony. he can feel the weight of your anguish pressing down on him, a burden he can't shake off no matter how hard he tries. his heart clenches in his chest, aching with a depth you may never fully comprehend.

"i'm sorry," you manage to choke out between sobs, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. "please don't leave." each word is a desperate plea, a futile attempt to hold onto something slipping away. it infuriates him, but not at you— god, never at you. the anger that burns within him is directed solely at himself. why are you sorry? you should be cursing him out, scratching up his car and slapping the shit out of him.

he's the one who fucked up, he's the one at fault, the one who shattered your heart into a million irreparable pieces.

so why, he wonders, why are you the one suffering? it only intensifies the ache in his chest, making it all the more agonizing to turn away from you.

"why are you crying?" gojo murmurs, his voice soft as he tenderly brushes away the tears staining your cheeks. it's a gentle gesture, one filled with a tenderness he can't afford to indulge in. each touch feels like a stab to his heart, a reminder of the pain he's caused and the irreparable damage he's wrought upon your fragile heart.

it hurts— hurts more than he can bear to know that this is the last time he'll ever see you, to know that the final memory etched into his mind will be of you, tears streaming down your face, struggling to even breathe. his pretty girl.

his hand moves to caress yours, his touch tender yet firm as he tries to pry your fingers from the fabric of his shirt. but your grip is like iron, unyielding and desperate, only serving to elicit more heart-wrenching cries of pain from deep within your chest.

"you can't go," you plead, your voice small, trembling with anguish as tears continue to cascade down your cheeks, leaving trails of devastation in their wake. "y-you promised... you promised me that it was going to be us forever and ever. y-you pinkie promised me..." your words cut through the air like shards of glass, each syllable a piercing reminder of the shattered dreams and broken promises that now lay scattered at your feet.

the weight of your despair hangs heavy in the air, suffocating and relentless, as the reality of his impending departure threatens to crush you beneath its crushing weight. everything hurts— the ache in your chest, the rawness of your throat, the emptiness in your soul— as you cling desperately to the fleeting remnants of a love that was once so pure and true.

"i know," he whispers, the words barely audible over the sound of your heartbreak. each syllable is heavy with the weight of his remorse, his longing, his love. he knows he said it, but he can no longer mean it, his heart screaming out in agony as he watches you crumble before him. despite how every instinct in his soul is telling him to stay, his rational mind, cold and calculating, reasons against it, reminding him of the harsh truth he can no longer deny.

your heart is pure, untainted by the darkness that consumes his own. it doesn't deserve someone like him, someone who has caused you nothing but pain and sorrow. he was selfish to ever believe that it could work, to entertain the foolish notion that a heart as precious as yours could ever love a heart as tarnished as his.

he is too broken to love. he's toxic, a poison seeping into every corner of your life, corroding the beauty and innocence you possess. you deserve so much better, someone who can love and cherish you in the way you truly deserve, in a way he will never be capable of. it tears at his soul, ripping him apart from the inside out, to let you go and to watch you find happiness with someone else. but he knows he has to do it. for your sake, for his sake, for the sake of the love he once believed in but now understands he can never truly be worthy of.

"i'm sorry," he sighs, the weight of his words heavy with sincerity. deep within his being, he truly regrets his actions. his voice, once meant to sing praises, now tainted by harsh tones that should never have been directed at you. his eyes, crafted to adore you, now bear the weight of regretful stares instead of the admiration they were intended for. his hands, meant to hold you tenderly, have instead caused you to flinch, a painful reminder of the hurt he's inflicted.

he's a monster. he's ruined you.

"it'll be okay without me," he promises, his voice trembling with the weight of his sorrow. he's trying desperately not to let the tears escape, not to show you the depth of his pain. a thousand times before, you've weathered storms together, but this time feels different. this time, it's final. but to you, it feels like the end of the world.

gojo's not just a pebble in the vast expanse of your life; he's a rock, solid and unwavering, filled with the very essence of your existence. without him, it feels like the air has been sucked from your lungs, leaving you gasping for breath in a world that suddenly feels cold and empty. the thought of facing each day without him by your side is unbearable, a daunting prospect that leaves you feeling lost and adrift. he's been your anchor, your guiding light through the darkest of times, and now, as he stands before you, ready to walk away, it feels like the light is dimming, fading into darkness.

"no, it won't," you croak out, your voice breaking with the weight of your despair. how could it ever be okay? it feels like the sun is leaving the earth, casting everything into darkness, leaving everything living to wither and die. you will die without him. how can you face a world without his presence, without his love to sustain you? you cling to him desperately, your grip tightening as if you could anchor him to your side with sheer willpower alone.

in your heart, you already know it's over. but maybe, just maybe, if you beg a little harder, if you hold on a little tighter, you'll be able to convince him to stay. your heart races with panic, the fear of losing him consuming you from the inside out. tears continue to stream down your face unabated, blurring your vision until all you can see is the hazy outline of his form before you. you sniffle, your breath hitching in your throat as you struggle to compose yourself. but how can you be expected to let go? how can you afford to lose him?

"it isn't the end," he reasons softly, his voice cracking with emotion as he presses your face deeper into his chest, shielding you from the tear that escapes his eye. "just the end of our story. but i promise there'll be someone else. someone else who is perfect for you, someone else who won't ever hurt you like i have." his words feel hollow, like empty promises meant to soothe the ache in your heart. how can he speak of someone else when you know, deep down in the depths of your soul, that you were meant to be together?

"but i don't want someone else," you sob, your words muffled against his chest. "i want- need you." your confession hangs heavy in the air, you're making this so much more difficult, and he can feel the weight of your pain pressing down on him, threatening to suffocate him with its intensity. but he can't be selfish again. he can't hold on to you when he knows deep down that he's not what you need, that he's only bringing you more pain and heartache.

so he holds you tighter, his arms aching with the effort to keep you close, even as he knows he has to let you go.

"one day, years from now, you'll be thinking of this day and laugh. when you're with the man of your dreams, walking down the aisle in your pretty white dress... you'll be so thankful for him," gojo says, his voice carrying a bittersweet melody that echoes through the empty spaces between you. his smile, though strained, is meant to offer comfort, yet his heart is turning blue with the weight of his own sorrow.

"at the end of the day, it wasn't meant to be us. at least not in this lifetime. in this one, i'm a lesson," he continues, his words heavy with resignation. he knows that he's been a chapter in your story, but not the final one. and while his heart aches at the thought of your pain, he knows that sometimes love means letting go, even when every fiber of your being screams to hold on.

"i know it hurts right now," he murmurs, his voice soft and tender as he reaches out to brush away your tears. "but there will be a day where it won't hurt anymore. that i can promise."

you shake your head, unable to accept his words, unable to bear the thought of a future without him by your side. your head aches with the weight of your sorrow, and all you want is to fall asleep in his arms and wake up to find that this was all just a bad dream, that this really isn't goodbye. but reality is cruel, and as much as you wish it were otherwise, you know that this is the end of your story together.

"w-we can work this out," you manage to choke out, your voice trembling with the effort of holding back your emotions. your words are desperate, a last-ditch attempt to salvage what's left of your shattered relationship. you know deep down that it's futile, but you can't bear to let go without a fight. "w-we can go to therapy, and things will be okay again..." his touch is tender as he strokes your cheek, his own eyes brimming with sorrow and regret as he gazes down at you. his heart aches with the weight of your pain, but he knows that staying will only prolong the inevitable.

"i think we both know it's too late for that," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. he knows that he's already cracked your heart, and any longer he stays will only make it shatter beyond repair.

"can you do something for me?" gojo's voice is tender, his touch gentle as he cups your face, tilting it upwards to meet his gaze. "hate me. slap me, cuss me out, just please... don't cry anymore. i want you to forget about me and move on." you're too pretty for all these tears, he thinks, even as they cascade down your cheeks, each drop a testament to the depth of your pain. but even in your sorrow, you're still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

his heart aches at the thought of causing you more pain, but he knows that letting you go is the only way forward. what he's asking of you feels impossible. how could you ever forget about him? even if you wanted to, you don't think you'd ever be able to hate him. the mere thought of it sends a fresh wave of anguish crashing over you, leaving you gasping for air amidst your tears. you can't bear the idea of moving on without him, of letting go of the love that has defined your existence for so long. your throat constricts, a choked sob escaping your lips as the weight of his request settles heavily upon you.

"i love you," you say weakly, your voice barely above a whisper, a last desperate attempt to hold onto him, to make him see the depth of your love. tears blur your vision, cascading down your cheeks in a torrent, but still, you cling to him, refusing to let go.

'i love you too,' he wants to say. yet the words that come out are a pleading, "please don't." but actions speak louder than words. his touch is familiar, comforting, as he combs through your hair like he used to when you cried over silly little things, on those off days when everything felt overwhelming. his fingers draw comforting patterns on your back, tracing constellations of stars as if to remind you that even in the darkest of nights, there is still beauty to be found.

you don't want to let go of him, because letting go means accepting that it's real, that it's truly over. it means saying goodbye to lazy sundays together, to midnight makeouts, to screaming karaoke in the car. letting go means he'll become a stranger, a mere memory, something that you both swore on your very lives would never happen.

you're lost without satoru, and he's lost without you. no exchange of 'you were a wonderful experience' passes between you two, for both of you understood, without needing words, that the other was everything. but what's shattered can't be pieced back together, and if this continues, you'll both suffocate under the weight of what once was. and the truth is, you're both better off apart, but it'll never feel like it.

no one will ever understand you like satoru did. no one will intuitively sense your emotions with just a glance. no one will ever fathom the extent of your love for him. the child within your heart stubbornly rejects it, unwilling to let your prince charming depart from your fairy tale. it takes every ounce of strength for you to loosen your grip, to slowly let go. and it takes everything for him to gently coax your hand away, to peel it off with tender care, and to press one last kiss to your trembling hand.

it takes all your willpower not to collapse on the floor, to stifle the gut-wrenching sobs that threaten to escape, and to acknowledge the painful reality that your satoru is leaving. for good. one glance is all it takes for both of you to know it means 'i love you.'

if he had known he had to leave so soon, he would have cherished every moment, held you close as if his life depended on it, loved you just a little bit harder.

he struggles against the overwhelming urge to hold on, his heart torn between the desperate longing to remain by your side and the agonizing realization that he can't undo the damage he's caused. you were, and still are, and will be for the rest of his life, his everything—the very essence of his existence, the light that guided him through the darkest of times. he promised to cherish and protect you, to love you with every fiber of his being, and deep down, he still means it with every beat of his broken heart.

but he was selfish, consumed by his own desires and fears, blind to the pain he inflicted upon you with every careless word and thoughtless action. he put himself first before you, heedless of the consequences, and in doing so, he did more than betray your trust— he betrayed your heart. as he gazes into your tear-stained eyes, he knows that he must bear the weight of his sins, must suffer a thousand lifetimes without you by his side. for in losing you, he has lost not only the love of his life but also a part of himself—a part that can never be reclaimed or restored.

"i know how much you hate goodbyes, so... see you again, my love. in the next universe." he whispers, his voice barely audible amidst the echoes of your shattered hearts. it's not just a statement; it's a solemn promise, a vow etched into the fabric of existence. with unwavering resolve, he swears, on his six eyes, that the next time your souls intertwine, he'll be worthy of cradling your heart.

in that universe, he'll stand by you through every joy and sorrow, holding you until the very end, sharing every breath until the final moment. in that universe, it will be his hand you hold as you walk down the aisle, his vows that bind you together as husband and wife, and his love that fills your days with endless warmth and devotion for all eternity.

just... not in this one.

and so, with a heavy heart and a soul burdened by regret, he forces himself to take a step back, to release you from the grip of his selfish desires, knowing that it's the only way you can ever truly be free. and with a heavy heart, he departs swiftly, each step echoing the ache within his soul. he resists the urge to glance back, knowing that if he does, he'll crumble under the weight of your sorrow, ensnaring both of you in an endless cycle of pain.

he leaves, not out of indifference, but out of a desperate hope that someone else will step in to fill the void he's left behind. it's a sacrifice he makes for your sake, a bittersweet farewell that holds the promise of a new beginning, even as it breaks both of your hearts irreparably.

a sacrifice to you, who he loved the most.

#jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #gojo angst #jjk angst #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x reader #gojo #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk self insert

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sinsirellaxx · 6 months

Note

I love love love your toxic Slytherin boys series. Can you write how they would react if you tried to give them notes (aka constructively criticize them in bed). I think it would be cute/funny. ILY!

Slytherin boys – you (respectfully) criticize them in bed

Warning: Toxic boys and slight smut here and there

A/N: I'm sorry, this isn't as funny and cute as I initially wanted it to be – but I hope you still enjoy it! Love you too! ❤️

Mattheo …

… is shocked. He’d be deeply offended but instead of blowing up or trying to argue he’ll just have to prove that he is unmatched in bed. Whatever you tell him, he’ll disprove. If you tell him that he should pay more attention to your clit, whenever he goes down on you, he would do exactly that. But with a twist: he’d not stop until you were crying from being overstimulated, the muscles in your thighs spasming – your body completely shutting off.

“Already tired, love?” He’d murmur breathlessly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “We’re just getting started, doll. You’re in for a long night.”

Theodore …

… blinked at you when you told him he was always too rough. “Too rough?” He questioned; his brows raised. Your cheek flushed red as you fidgeted in front of him, slowly nodding your head as you confessed that it hurt sometimes.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, tesoro.” He whispered softly, tracing your jaw with his fingers before taking a hold of your chin. “I’ll be more careful. Sometimes I just can’t help it – I get lost in the feeling of you.” He mumbled seductively as he lifted your face to kiss you.

Lorenzo …

… scoffed when you told him that he was bad with his fingers. He glared at you as you apologized, telling him that you didn’t mean to offend him. Lorenzo would not touch you for days. He’d reject any advances from you and watch your face fall every time.

He’d wait until the perfect timing until he made his move – which was in class. You were sitting next to him at the far back of the classroom. Enzo moved his right hand to your thigh, the corners of his lips twitching as he felt you flinch and tense up. His fingers teased the hem of your skirt before moving his fingers towards your panties. You tried removing his hand from advancing any further, but he managed to slip his fingers under the cotton fabric, slowly teasing your slit.

He'd show you how talented he was with his fingers. He was an excellent pianist after all.

Draco …

… is offended. No matter how nice and careful you were about it Draco was mad. He’d be ashamed. Instead of trying to listen to you he would completely reject whatever you have to say.

He wouldn’t initiate intimacy for the next few weeks either and would always find an excuse. “I’m not in the mood.” “Not now.”

He would be so petty about the whole thing. You would have to pull him aside and talk to him about it, reassuring him that he was great.

Blaise …

… laughed out loud. When you repeated what you said and told him you were being serious, he stopped. He didn’t know what to say either but after gathering his thoughts he asked you to exactly tell him what you want before removing his shirt. He’d not let you leave before you hadn’t told him how you liked it.

Tom …

… threw you on his bed before you could even open your lips to speak. He read your mind – which he occasionally did – and was shocked to hear you weren’t completely satisfied. He had taken offense to your thoughts and the only way for him to forgive you is to make you regret thinking them.

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agendabymooner · 8 months

Text

SOMETHING POSSESSIVE !!! CARLOS S. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: carlos didn't need any reassurance especially when she wasn't going to be getting away from his grasp sooner or later.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni), use of explicit language, toxic-esque relationship, possessive!mean dom!carlos, double penetration + anal play, degrading, oral (m receiving) + face fucking/deep throat, impact play, brief breath play, dacryphilia

note: idk what i wrote dawg I'M SORRY 😭 enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

carlos, with all his suave and his talent, was a secured man.

he knew that. in fact, he couldn’t find himself to care what people may think about his driving skills, or what he’s wearing, let alone his relationship status.

but there were times when some things were slowly slipping away from his grasp. in those instances, he had to hold on tight and even pull them back where he had them.

one of those times was during his p1 celebration. carlos turned away for a brief second to exchange pleasantries with the partygoers who approached him, thanking them and telling them to enjoy the party.

but as soon as he turned back, she was gone. she was leaning over the bar counter as she patiently waited for her drink to be filled up. no— she wasn’t just waiting, she was giggling at whatever the hell lando was telling her. lando wasn’t even that funny, carlos said.

the more carlos stared, the more his anger grew.

he should be blaming himself for not paying attention to her for a whole month straight, really. the woman asked for his undivided attention even if it’s just for an hour, yet he never gave her that.

he could be blaming himself right now, with his face drenched in sweat after dancing for too long and his face red in anger and jealousy, but he chose not to head that route.

instead he decided that she should’ve behaved herself even if she had to wait for him.

carlos towered over her, his chiseled body bare and his cock hardened as he looked down at her with a mocking pitiful expression.

her knees were burning as she knelt down on the carpeted floor of their hotel room, her body practically shaking in anticipation. she had nothing on, her arousal dripping out of her as continued to look up at him with a pleading look.

yeah, carlos scoffed, as if that’d work this time.

carlos’ face gave her a go ahead— as if she already knew what to do.

her mouth gaped open and she stuck her tongue out, allowing carlos to push his cock into her mouth. she forced herself to keep her hands on her back, her tongue swirling on the tip of his cock.

her mouth on his length elicited a moan out of carlos, his hands now grabbing her head by the roots. he increased his pace and moved deeper, the tip of his cock now resting at the back of her throat as she felt all of him in her mouth.

“mi pequeña y buena puta,” my good little whore. carlos muttered quietly, hearing her breathe through her nose despite the tip of it grazing his skin. “ojalá lo supieras mejor.” i wish you knew better.

she couldn’t even utter a word, her words stuck on her throat with his cock shoving them back down. her eyes were watering as she looked up at carlos, who looked down at her once more with a smug expression.

“can’t take it anymore, bonita?” carlos cooed mockingly, making her shake her head while she continued to get her mouth fucked.

carlos pulled her mouth away from his length, making her gasp. he chuckled quietly, “good because i’m gonna make sure you know who you fucking belong to. on the bed.”

in a typical day, she’d be stubborn enough to resist and roll her eyes at him. but she knew exactly what she had done to piss him off like this and she knew better than testing him, and so she obliged and went to the bed on all fours.

it didn’t take long for carlos to get around and kneel on the mattress, his hand gliding down her soaked cunt as she shivered from his touch.

“who told you to act like that?” carlos asked her firmly, his voice low and his fingers slowly prodding her cunt.

she didn’t utter a word, instead she bit her lip as she didn’t want to displease him anymore than she did earlier.

he was growing frustrated from her silence. he didn’t have that much patience for her sudden quietness, especially when her behaviour was loud enough to defy and make carlos jealous.

she let out a loud whimper when he struck a blow to her cunt, her clit sending aroused and pained signals to her brain.

“who?” carlos still didn’t get any answer. he slapped her cunt continuously, each slap was rougher than the last as she cried out.

she was unable to let out a word, her brain was getting too fuzzy from each strike and each derogatory word that escaped carlos’ tone. some sinful parts of her wanted to be treated like this after a whole month of not being taken care of by the ferrari driver. that’s why she behaved like she wasn’t his back there.

by the tenth time, he pulled his hand away and watched her cunt throb around nothing.

“still nothing?” carlos asked despite the fact that he’s not expecting any more answers from her.

she couldn’t even remember hearing him move around as she was already entering her hazy state. she was keeping her composure, yet despite all of those attempts she was driven away by his cock as he entered her fully without a warning.

she cried out, “fuck!” her knuckles were turning white as she gripped the sheets beneath her. carlos thrusted hard, pounding her like he was stating his frustrations to her.

“you love this don’t you?” carlos growled lowly, his one hand gripping her hips while the other collected her arousal and slid two fingers in her back hole. his cock entered her cunt at the same pace as his two fingers, penetrating her until she couldn’t handle it anymore.

“did you really think i won’t punish you for behaving like a slut?” carlos asked her, making her shake her head insistently as she cried and sobbed. tears fell down her cheeks as she felt immense pleasure from his continuous fucking. “ah, so you did it because you know i’ll be punishing you?”

“if you wanted some reminder of who owns you then you could have just asked me, bonita,” carlos crooned mockingly, his hand that gripped her hips pulled her up by the throat. he pulled her body closer, her back on his chest while he continued fucking both her holes.

he squeezed her throat and released the pressure. he muttered in her ear, “what would everybody think if they found out that you like to be treated like a whore when i don’t give you attention, hm?”

her mouth let out nothing but incoherent words, feeling her walls clenching around him as she whined pitifully.

“they can see it already, bebe,” he whispered, nipping at her ear as she gasped loudly.

“so fucking tight and good for me,” carlos continued, “whose pussy is this?”

her mouth gaped open as she tried to utter something. carlos squeezed her throat, restricting her airflow as she cried out, “yours, carlos, fuck! yours!”

“yeah?” carlos whispered heatedly, now increasing his pace as he chased her high and his. “these holes are mine, yes? no one else’s?”

“yes- hah- fuck, yes ‘m yours,” she babbled, her voice pleading with him as her walls clenched around him.

he let out a loud grunt as his thrusts slowed, his cock still sliding in and out of her hard as both of them reached their high. her walls milked his cock, painting her insides white with his load as her legs trembled and gave up.

she knew that if she simply asked for his attention, he wouldn’t give it— he’d make some promise that he wasn’t going to follow through and he’d forget about it.

perhaps it was a great idea to remind him that some things were meant to slip out of his grasp, and that he should continue holding onto it tightly. otherwise, she wouldn’t be fucked out as she wished to be.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015

♡ moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness

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remember-to-be-gentle · 9 months

Text

Inspired by this tumblr post by @hawnks

Subject: JJK, Satoru Gojo

Title: Hate Me Tomorrow (Omega!Gojo x GN Alpha!Reader)

Trigger Warning: Dub con, omega verse, scenting, size difference, biting/marking, obsessive/toxic behavior, self-hatred, knotting, knot riding, begging, heat/mating cycles, grinding

The sweet, musky scent of Gojo's cologne and sweat enveloped you. Even the giant stuffed beta fish you were snuggling had no scent but his. His pillow fort was surprisingly spacious, granted, Gojo was nearly twice your size so there was a lot of him to fit. But being in here with him was nearly suffocating, and not just because of the light whiffs of omega scent rolling off of him or because he'd practically ripped off your jacket to snuggle into.

He'd called you suddenly, saying that he needed to spend time with someone. It made sense. Geto just died and there were only so many people who were willing to pick up the phone for Gojo, and even fewer he'd actually call. Especially when it was a secret he was an omega, pretending to be an alpha and you were an alpha pretending to be a beta.

The two of you were decent friends, hanging out after teaching at Jujutsu Tech for a drink or a quick round of gossip. He was one of the few people who knew you were an alpha and he an omega, an unusual kinship formed but it was never anything more. More importantly, you knew about his relationship with Geto. You couldn't say no.

Which was why your thigh was snug against his, smartphone balanced on your knee, his favorite plushie shoved into your arms. His head on your shoulder breathes fast but not uneven. It seemed like he was trying not to cry. Poor guy. The winter fashion review didn't seem to be helping him calm down at all. Nor any work gossip. You wanted to stay and help, but it was getting late. If he really wanted to, he could just pin you down, sometimes that thought scared you.

Gojo curled onto his side, struggling closer to you, your jacket wrapped in his hands like a security blanket.

It felt wrong to leave, but you needed to take care of yourself, too. "Hey, bud, I need to get going. Are you going to be alright by yourself?"

Gojo buried his face in your neck, silent. He leaned his weight into you, just enough to make it clear he didn't want to be alone.

Fuck. "I'm sorry. I'll come first thing tomorrow. We'll call out from work and go to the city or--"

His teeth scraped your neck. Possessive, dominant. Alpha behavior. Before you knew what was happening, he was ripping off your scent suppressor, inhaling like he hadn't been breathing for hours. Alpha pheromones leaked from your skin, invading your nose. "Gojo?"

Your stomach turned as your instincts awakened, the need to comfort an omega struggling with your own needs for autonomy. Your fingers dug into the beta fish plushie, filled with his scent.

He reached for his own scent blocker and you suddenly realized what was going on. With his neck practically right under your nose, his omega scent was free. And not just that, he was going into heat. The pillow fort was a nest and this was a trap. Gojo was primed to breed and he was going to use you to fuck away his pain. "This isn't healthy, Gojo, listen to me!"

But his patch was already off and the omega scent of him in your lungs, filling you, lighting every nerve on fire. Your cock swelled under your clothes, reacting to his breedable scent with vigor.

Gently, Gojo took the plush and pushed you onto your back, yanking off his pants as his pale face filled with color. His bandages were already slipping, the iridescent shine of his six eyes laser-focused on the swelling at your crotch. He crawled on top of you, already tugging off his shirt. "Just for today, please." He panted, his thin but muscular chest heaving as if just sitting here breathing was a near-impossible task.

His weight lowered onto your cock and you gasped, feeling his wetness through your clothes. His heat was so pleasant, feverish but warm, empty, and yearning. Blood pulsed lower and you gulped.

Slowly, Gojo rocked back and forth, moaning loudly each time your shaft met his clit. His back arched, nipples swollen and pink, and standing at attention. "Please," he begged. "Just me just for tonight. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please, ah, Y/N. Please, I wanna cum. Let me have it inside me."

It was getting harder and harder to think straight. He felt so good, the need to fill him up, let him fuck himself stupid on your cock growing. It would be better if you let him, a voice whispered. Another said, it's what you were made for. Just let him.

"Gojo," you gasped. You reached for him, tried to make him stop so you could think, but his fingers intertwined with yours and he was moving faster now, his breathy moans coming faster. His skin was so soft and warm, filling you with his heat until you thought you might burst. Blood pulsed in your cock, his pussy was sucking at you through your clothing. He wanted you so badly. You wanted... What did you want to do again? You had to leave but why?

"Y/N, I'm cumming." His hips rocked faster, tummy rolling with downy white hair covered in sparkling slick. "I'm cumming on your alpha cock." He let go of your hands to lay across your stomach, his head buried in your neck to take in your scent, his own making your head spin as pleasure threatened to burst out of your cock. His teeth met your skin, nibbling and biting gently then hard enough to bruise until he let out a long, throaty groan as he came.

Instantly, your clothes were soaked, his hot slick smothered on your member. If you weren't fully erect before, you were now.

Still panting, Gojo lifted himself up just enough to tug your cock free from your clothing. He didn't wait, spreading his pussy with his fingers as he sank down on your tip. Slick gushed down your shaft as he cried out, swallowing your swollen head into his heat. You bit back a groan, fingers digging into the blankets making up the fort.

"You feel so big," Gojo moaned. "So good. I've only done this with Geto, so I'm going to have to start slow." He sank a little further, impossibly tight and hot and wet. "Feels so good," he huffed, rolling his hips and finally, sinking all the way down your shaft.

Your knot throbbed, seeming to sense that an omega was speared on your length.

Gojo humped himself on your cock, needy moans slipping from his mouth each time his hips met yours. "Feels so good, Y/N. I've only felt Geto like this before."

Before you could respond he pulled back to his full height, six eyes glowing in the warm darkness of the pillow fort. He spread his lower lips as he lifted himself up, clear slick drooling from his hole. His pretty, pink, clit a shining pearl at the apex of his thighs. "You did this to me. Look how wet you made me." Slowly, Gojo slid back down, pushing the head of your cock against his cervix. Again, he kept himself exposed and rose up, only to slurp your length right back down to the knot, aiming this time higher, into something spongy and mouth-wateringly soft.

"G-Gojo, I know you miss him but you can't--"

He raised himself up and dropped down, knocking a groan from you both. "I think about him a lot," Gojo panted. "About how empty he left me. In my soul. In my body. So please, let me fix one of those. Just for now. It's okay if you hate me, but I need you now more than I've needed anyone."

Gojo whined, flushed and excited. "Right there." He slammed back down on you with a stomach-churning squelch right into that soft sweet spot. "So good." He was riding you now, using you like a dildo to get himself off, his delicate fingers rolling his clit in circles. You couldn't take your eyes off him. "I want you to cum inside me, okay? Fill me up with your seed. Help me feel less empty."

Pleasure gathered deep inside you, begging to come out as your knot swelled. Shit. You shouldn't. He was your coworker, your friend. But omegas needed alpha seed, he needed reprieve from his heat and you were the only one he could call--because the person he really wanted was dead.

That thought shattered your high, grounding you back in the moment. "Gojo, I know you're still mourning Geto, but this isn't healthy for you."

Gojo settled on your stomach, chest heaving. His hands snuck under your shirt, impossibly soft and warm in your skin. Your cock twitched inside him, wanting him to squeeze and milk you dry but that wasn't what a good friend would let him do.

"I killed him, you know." His hands curled into fists by your hips. "He left me after taking my virginity and when he came back, I killed him on Christmas Eve because he didn't give me another choice. I'm awful, aren't I? Shoko hates me. She won't say it but I know she does. I hate me, too." The blue of his eyes shone as tears gathered, threatening to fall down his red flushed cheeks.

"Shoko doesn't hate you." You said soothingly. You sat up, so much smaller than him, and ran your hands through his hair. "It was an impossible situation, we all think you did the right thing. We--"

He didn't let you finish your thought. Gojo grabbed you by your shirt and slammed his mouth onto yours, his tongue filling you as if he could make you swallow every hateful thing he'd ever thought about himself. "If you don't hate me," he breathed against your lips, his spit wet and warm as it dribbled down your chin, "then cum inside me." He rolled his hips, reigniting the electric pleasure in your core. "Please. You can hate me tomorrow, but right now, I can't let you go."

The pulsing softness of his pussy contracted, squeezing you so tightly you thought you might burst. You gasped for breath when Gojo released you and then did it again. You wanted to move. You wanted to stop. You wanted...

Gojo pulled down the front of your shirt, rolling his hips roughly, chasing his end against your cock. He bit your chest, hard enough to bruise, marking you like an alpha. And that was enough to come undone.

You exploded inside of him, eyes rolling back as your core emptied against his sweet spot. Your hips rolled up into his and you shivered as you felt your knot pop into his pussy, slick sliding down your thighs and onto the blankets.

You struggled to breathe as Gojo laid himself on top of you, breathing fast. He rocked his hips against your knot, already trying to drag another orgasm out of himself. His arms slid under your back, pulling your chest to his. "You're all I have now, Y/N," he whispered, "so please, don't leave.”

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metranart · 4 months

Text

“May-may I give you a kiss?” You asked, timidly and noticing his bemused expression, corrected. “...As a way of thanking you.... for saving me....”

Hawks x UA Student! Reader (Part 2)

- Warning tag: obsessed! Hawks, possessive! Hawks, naive! student reader, violation of trust, dubious consent, mating cycles, rut response, obsessive behavior, uncontrollable thirst for reader, manipulation, forced, thigh riding, hormonal minds out of control, sexual content, first time, cock riding, teenage fuck, Dabi's toxically interested in you, Bakugo bestie yet secretly inlove with you, love confessions, cock-drunk, Hawks trying to be good but failing miserably, gaslighting, HEAVY plot, lots of smut. -

“May-may I give you a kiss?” You asked, timidly and noticing his bemused expression, corrected. “...As a way of thanking you.... for saving me....”

Your timid request took him by surprise momentarily, but soon his features regain his cool, and was quick to nod to then leant down. A kiss on the cheek, Keigo thought it to be innocent enough, not a usual request, nevertheless, a simple one. If this put you to rest, he'll humor you. Keigo was cocking his head for you to place your sweet lips.... it's now or never, you breathed deeply.... if you were going to use your quirk, now was the moment.

Two slender hands perched in each side of the Hero´s face and in a firm, straight movement, you cocked his face in your direction, surprise registered in his face, and his golden orbs popped open at the feeling of your lips locking with his.

Bold, The Winged Hero thought pleasantly amused, this girl had a savage side to her… the timid, quivering student was gone for sure, and a determined one took its place. Hawks felt a light wave of energy spread inside him, as sudden as the kiss itself realized was taking him more than it should to hold himself back. Doubtfully, snaking your arms around his neck, the hero closed the distance for your warm body to hang easily from him, when two strong arms help you by holding your waist, Keigo didn’t dare to break the kiss even when his mind screamed for him to do it. The commission is going to be pissed.

The little lip lock began to grow intimate and you were out in the open, not that he actually cared about those things, even so, a red alert fired up inside his head when you moaned into his eager lips, the exact moment his advantageous hand slipped just a thad under your UA school uniform skirt, as in trouble ahead.... you are fondling an underage school girl in a hidden alleyway like a common PERVERT. Stop! his mind nagged at him, and you felt him disentangle his hand, but quickly, you prevented it.

Shocked, groaned at your refusal to then settle back into a cool demeanor. Hawks hummed softly with a hint of a smile; his good sense precariously bruised.

“...Let´s stop, little one...” Keigo chuckled in between kisses, unconsciously massaging your hips with his thumbs. “I’m gonna get...in so, so much trouble–” he huffed a laugh. You were so tiny compare to him, but, then again, most people were small compare to him.

“I´m- I'm trying to help.” You attempted to apologize, but he merely snorted. “–By taking off my hands my hero license?” He attempted a joke; your reply wasn’t what he expected.

“S-sorry about this-”

You mumbled, and groaned, remembering that the touch needed to be more intimate for your quirk to work properly, and let your lips devour his desperately, but the touch was so inexpert that your quirk seemed still ineffective, all your efforts only flushing your skin and cheeks making it burn bright like the setting sun. Or perhaps it was the embarrassing knowledge that you were going to have to basically sexually assault the hero number two for this to actually work...

Be brave and do it already! You chastised, and in an act that not even you thought would be capable of doing, you pushed your breast into his hand, easing his strong fingers around your own to help him have a nice handful, his hand instinctively squeezed the plump flesh, and then you felt the unmistakable pull he did trying to gently scramble away, but you refused to let him go.

His golden eyes opened wide, astonished by your unmeasured actions and the very welcoming way his body was reacting, this was not usual for him...he had control...except when...

“Surrender, Hawks–” You begged, reaching down a hand to without his permission, began to pull at his belt.

The power of your quirk started to take effect the closer you got, and for the first time Keigo began to feel disoriented, sickly warm and dangerously possessive.... fear enveloped the young Hero....this was too similar to his rut, but it was weeks away for that to happen.

"What are… what are you doing-...to me...." he stressed, biting down a moan, and finally finding enough strength, broke the sloppy kiss by taking a step away. A string of saliva the only thing left connecting each other.

“Helping you.” You promised, one hand searched for his arm, clawing, trying to pull him back to you. "The discomfort will vanish when you surrender...."

A painful throbbing inside his head began to blind him almost becoming numbing, the more he tried to stay away from you. “Surrender~” Your tender voice, suggested again and huskily groaning, the Hero ended up allowing you to draw him back into your welcome embrace.

Immediately, you shushed him, balancing on your tip toes to cradle his head to your neck despite the difference in heights. Hawks made himself comfortable in matter of seconds, curling against you, body suffering from incontrollable fits of goosebumps as he straightened again, for his eyes to lock on yours.

Those two pools of liquid honey shone like molten gold. Round orbs igniting at finding not an ounce of resistance from you, instead, you openly desired him–according to him.

The lack of control from your quirk can have adverse results on the wounded, especially on persons who have animal traits ... don't use it at that level until you are one hundred percent sure you can master it... You heard Recovery girl's warning in your mind once again, and soon your whole attention shifted to the feeling of Hawks splaying a hand on the middle of your back, perfect pressure, authoritative, the other gripping you tight and then, the hero hauled you into the darkest part of the alley.

You let him, leant against his chest, enjoying the sensation of being held so close by someone you admired so much. The thrill of feeling wanted by him was somehow intoxicating, not to mention, superbly new to you.

Golden locks fell over his eyes, jacket unbuttoned and disheveled. Light and shadow dancing across his face in a manner that made him look devilish. Not wasting another second, he aimed for your lips, yet his lips only brushed your temple since you cocked your head away. The Hero hesitated with a low chuckle, keeping his proximity.

It had been a moment of weakness on your part, nevertheless, you knew that once you had started the process, you must finish it. This was too new for you; you've never had a boyfriend before but that didn't mean you've never kissed or touched a guy, while enjoying of a drunken stupor. After all, you were already in second year at UA Academy, a year away from becoming a full-fledged professional.

You were the most belated in your entire class, since you had a complicated quirk, but the support of your friends was so unconditional that you had never felt judged. You had frozen against that Nomus but now it was different, this time, you would act accordingly and fulfill your mission. Hawks was going to leave that alley without a single injury to his body.

“Hawks–” You didn't have to tell him or even finish the request, when he rushed over you to diligently press his lips with yours, and holy shit! This must be how it feels to be with someone experienced. This was completely different from what you were doing minutes ago, this time you felt yourself melt into his warm and strong body while he softly brushed your lips against his, breathing reverence into your lungs like you were his person, his girl, his ultimate and most sacred individual in the entire universe. Now, his wandering touch seemed to be cupping your breast by his own will, tongue lapping at the trails of your cherry lipstick like a mad man.

Letting him do with you whatever the fuck he wanted and how he wanted, while you indiscriminately released more of your energy for his wounds to absorb like a dry sponge.

“That’s it. That’s a good girl.” The winged hero cooed, hearing you moan, and he grinned wickedly caressing your waist to pull you closer against him, no gaps this time. He wanted you to feel him above the clothes, his dick was hard. Painfully, fucking hard against you.

“I think you’re so pretty.” He blurted out, looking straight into your half-lidded orbs. Your eyes widened and you felt your throat dry.

How you hated this part... the ovations of your beauty, unsolicited declarations of love, the intensity in the victim's gaze while your quirk made them believe you were a real life, Angel. It was all very uncomfortable for you, not knowing if these words hid a bit of truth or were just a byproduct of the situation.

“I think-….I.....” Part of you wanted to swallow the plain lie coming out of his shiny lips, but you knew the nature of your quirk, all too well, and letting yourself be fooled would be stupid. “I think you’re being highly influenced by my quirk.” You quipped back, making emphasis in the word highly.

Clinging to his solid figure, your feet left the ground, and his feathers sharpened. Like a predator ready to attack its prey. A subconscious, trained part of him, kept resisting, stabbing himself in the back to gain some control back, but it was so fucking hard.

After a couple of groaning swears, and him smearing against you more like a cat than a Hawk, the blonde managed to unwrap himself from you a few centimeters, like he couldn't stand to be away for even a second and breathed his next words against the edge of your jaw.

“I’m not sure what’s going on... but I nee-d....I need–I need you to RUN...” Keigo swallowed hard, breathing through his nose to keep composed. Even your natural smell was affecting him, you could literally feel the shape and girth of his cock as it jumped in his pants, firmly pressed against your tummy.

“No need,” You breathed out, giving him a tight smile, “I can handle you.” You promised, leaning forward, only for him to lean back.

A condescending chuckle followed. “You have no idea how to handle a predator, kid... So, do as I fucking say...” The way his gaze sharpened, actually send goosebumps down your legs, even so, you knew you needed to finish the loop, or everything would be in vain.

So, instead of hearing his helpful advice, you draw near.

“God fucking damn it.” His voice sounded strain; lips set in a tight line. What the hell!? Didn't you see the danger you were in?! His wings were standing on end and menacing, shuddering with a rush of adrenaline from just imagining pushing you against the wall and having his way with you.

Tears would fall down your face, yet he would not care because would be driven by instinct, raw and basic, predatory instinct. He would tear your AU uniform with his sharp feathers and sully your soft skin with hickeys and bites, making sure you came at least twice to make you slippery and ready to sheath him, properly, he didn’t want to break you, not yet he liked to play with his prey before putting it on his knees and wreck its world apart. Hawks was sure you were a virgin, so it wouldn't be hard.

Once he had you trembling and begging, would fuck you with all his might and continue until you passed out, cumming inside you over and over again until you overflowed with his essence, and then would take you to his penthouse where he would keep you, marking you as his precious mate, for life.

“Kid, I won't be able to ask you again...” he said, flushed cheeks making him look almost feverish “but if you don't leave now... you will never be able to do so again...." He made a meaningful pause, “...that I swear."

Hawks' breathing came heavy, it felt awfully hot against your sweaty skin. The ragging spring wasn’t making any of this easier.

“Don´t worry...-it´s my...my quirk speaking....” You mewled, way too sure of your words, “we can-we can...continue until you are fully...fully healed–….” there was no response from him, only the sound of heavy breathing hitting against your warm cheek, “...Hawks?”

At what point did the hero stopped understanding what you were saying? He wasn’t sure, or maybe, just stop caring? At some level, Hawks just stopped fighting the nagging inside his brain and let his instinct take the wheel. Just for a minute, he wanted to let the animal out. Just a few seconds before taming it back into its cage. So, he let his rut take over him. You said you could handle him, right?

“Tell me,” Hawks’ voice sounded deeper, raspier almost feral, as it you were facing a darker self of the same man, and the next words that came out of his mouth made you realize how affected he was, for you have never EVER, had such a raw response. “...May I fuck you as your way of thanking me for saving you?”

COMING SOON PART 3....

⬇⬇ NSFW ART of this story and more MHA NSFW artwork: ⬇⬇

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