#and it can STILL NOT BE ENOUGH. and it’s INFURIATING. because what MORE do I have to be? what do YOU think you deserve?
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Ranking 2024 anime, Pt. 2: #40-31
hey, this post is also available on my ko-fi, so please check it out and consider tipping/donating as i do this for free and am currently between jobs. you can find part 1 of the list here. thanks!
Alright, on we go to the list proper. The first post was probably whiplash-inducing, going from a bunch of shorter stuff I loved to whole seasons I hated, but we can only go up from here. I watched a lot of anime this year, as the numbers indicate, so there's a little positivity to be found even in the lower rankings.
As always, OPs are linked in the series titles. Watch them, they're almost all great.
40. Metallic Rouge
One of the biggest disappointments of the year, one which I didn’t think could be outdone (and I’ll get to that one shortly). Metallic Rouge had so much going for it as a Studio Bones original for its anniversary, and managed to fumble all of its promise and goodwill in slow, agonizing fashion.
It’s a shame, too. Metallic Rouge still looks awesome; the character and mech designs are excellent, the space-cyberpunk aesthetic is undeniable, and the animation can be terrific when it counts. The story, on the other hand, is so completely asinine that I was sick of this show before it ended. I’ve mostly forgotten what even happens, partly because it was that infuriating to keep up with, and partly because I feel like the writers forgot too; the bulk of any actual story felt backloaded into the last two or three episodes because they focused too hard on vibes for a while. I think they were trying to go for some “G-Witch by way of Detroit: Become Human” something or other, but all of it rang hollow. I’m still not sure whether it needed more runtime or better writers. Probably both.
Not worth your time. Just watch the OP and imagine a better show than what we got.
39. Mysterious Disappearances
I’ve thought so little about this show since it went off the air that I don’t really have anything new to say. Looks pretty lousy most of the time, not that interesting, oddly horny, and the plot structure gets kind of cloying after a while.
I know I harped on that last point when I reviewed it at the end of the spring season, but something funny happened after I did. Back in July, I mentioned that I took issue with the formula of “we encounter a paranormal anomaly, it’s identified as a yokai or urban legend, we learn its tragic backstory, our protagonists give it closure, and we move on” because it felt manipulative after I realized that it happened with every arc, and then I went ahead and read DanDaDan, which basically does exactly the same thing but a hell of a lot better. Comparing a middling work like this to DanDaDan of all things feels unfair, but they cover pretty similar ground. Maybe it’s sharper writing, or maybe it’s just a more engaging work. Who’s to say?
I’d also said in my review that Mysterious Disappearances unintentionally gives off the vibe of a poorly-archived mid-2000s series, but I hadn’t realized just how right I was: It turns out that studio Zero-G just went ahead and made up its own ending even though the source material is still ongoing. Better shows did the same this year, but the studio and I seem to have the same level of faith that this anime’s ever coming back.
38. My Deer Friend Nokotan
Honestly? Fuck this show.
I’ve already gone into what I did and didn’t like about Nokotan after it went off air a few months ago and I don’t care to revisit that while it’s still relatively fresh. Not nearly as funny as it pretended to be, yet still not even confident in its own sense of humor. The OP's still a bop (calling it "Shikairo Days" was a genuinely great joke), and a small handful of gags do land, but not enough to prevent this from being a massive disappointment. At the same time, Nokotan was still somehow not the biggest letdown of the year.
37. Uzumaki
This was the biggest letdown of the year.
When an anime adaptation of the legendary Junji Ito horror manga was first announced in 2019, it was hard not to get excited. Even when I’d mostly fallen out of anime fandom, I knew damn well who Junji Ito was and I knew Uzumaki. Adult Swim was funding the project, a prestige studio in Production I.G. was handling the animation, and they even nabbed Hereditary composer Colin Stetson for the score. Ito’s manga is famously very difficult to adapt well, and it looked like we finally had a project being taken seriously. Delays and radio silence in the ensuing years were disappointing, but I was willing to be patient if it meant everything was being handled right. When the trailer dropped this summer, it looked like it would be worth the wait.
And for one glorious episode, it seemed like everyone’s patience paid off. Uzumaki’s debut episode was one of the most visually arresting pieces of animation I’ve ever seen: The entire look and feel was faithful to Ito’s inimitable style, from the meticulously detailed linework to the stark black-and-white color grading of his manga’s pages. On top of that, the animation itself was absurdly good; the process of rotoscoping 3D motion capture seemed arduous, but the end result was beautifully lifelike for a story where that quality could only serve to instill further terror. Several of the most iconic images from the early chapters looked incredible in hi-def motion. Sure, the pacing was a little fast, but this was a four-episode miniseries. We could deal. This was just too good.
And then came the second episode.
I’m not going to over-elaborate or relitigate every single thing that went wrong here, because it’s a lot. Uzumaki was in development for a long time, and that five year gap between announcement and release included several detriments to the production process, not the least of which being COVID, animation production changing hands between several studios, and new leadership for Adult Swim’s parent company that now favors profit over product, especially when it comes to animation that doesn’t involve DC characters. Plenty of us figured that all of these delays and a run of only four episodes meant that they had the time to hammer out all the issues and give us the best possible product. That, unfortunately, was not the case.
Responding to complaints about the decline in animation in the second episode, executive producer Jason DeMarco (who, to be blunt, has overseen several mediocre-to-awful anime products released under the Adult Swim brand, including my bottom-ranked anime of 2023) claimed in a quickly-deleted Bluesky thread that there is indeed a higher-up to blame and that they were left with an ultimatum to either drop Uzumaki after just one episode, let it go the way of so many other Warner Bros non-releases under David Zaslav’s disastrous leadership, or release the whole miniseries in its half-baked state. They went with the third.
So, what we got was an uneven, often sloppy work; another mediocrity to throw on the pile of failed Junji Ito adaptations. All goodwill established in the first episode is soon undone by wonky character models, uncanny walk cycles, and movement that looks like PNGs being dragged across a background at the most inopportune times. Plenty of viewers, myself included, were willing to overlook the accelerated pacing after the first episode, but that issue was thrown into stark relief by the second when entire chapters of the manga began playing out simultaneously, and one was even reduced to an afterthought for a cheap “scare” at the end of episode three.
Not that I thought Uzumaki necessarily needed a full 12-episode season for a proper adaptation or anything; Ito’s output can often be light on story, and dragging it out too far risks losing interest. What makes Ito’s stories actually work, though, is a proper sense of setting and space to let tensions rise. That didn’t entirely happen here; while the atmosphere of Kurozu-cho does plenty resemble what we’ve seen from Ito’s pages, and Stetson’s atonal saxophone does a lot of work to raise the level of unease, things just kind of happen. Few things really get the chance to land as intended, in part due to the production quality cheaping out at climactic moments.
This was the last anime I finished this year even though I’d watched the first two episodes after they aired and it went off the air in October. I was looking forward to the last two episodes that little. There are still bits and pieces of great animation and faithful adaptation here and there, but not enough to regain any goodwill from the second episode’s wheels visibly falling off. Maybe it’s finally time to declare Junji Ito’s works unadaptable once and for all.
Definitely watch that first episode, though. At this point I kind of wish that’s all we’d gotten.
36. Hokkaido Gals Are Super Adorable!
Straitlaced Nice Guy moves to a new town, laid-back gyaru from his class immediately takes a liking to him, a couple other girls enter the picture, shenanigans ensue, and a slow-burn romance begins in parallel. Nothing special on paper and nothing much more special than that in execution. The setting is lovely, though, and it really made me want to visit Hokkaido one day. Nicely done, tourism board.
If you watched this and were put off by it, I don’t blame you; I probably would’ve been too if I hadn’t decided to read ahead in the manga. I will say this, though: If you liked Hokkaido Gals even a little, read the manga. It’s a minor investment, but if you can get over the halfway mark, it gets surprisingly good and has a really lovely ending.
The anime, on the other hand? Meh. Doesn’t look super great and didn’t have enough time in 12 episodes to overcome most of the issues the source material had to move past to get to what made it worthwhile. It would take another season or two to get there, and that probably isn’t gonna happen. Great OP, though (I'm starting to repeat myself, I know). Just read the manga.
35. No Longer Allowed in Another World
Boasting one of the most audacious premises for an isekai I’ve ever seen, No Longer Allowed in Another World doesn’t shy away from the implications of an Osamu Dazai isekai, has the dark humor to match, and provides some fascinating commentary on the type of person who tends to consume wish-fulfillment isekai. Unfortunately, the presentation was a little lacking and threatened to lose my attention several times. I think the idea is much better on paper, to the point where I might test that theory and go read the manga.
34. The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic
The next dozen or so anime in the rankings fall into a category of either “well-made anime that I found kind of frustrating” or “middling anime that I kind of enjoyed.” The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic is very much the latter. It’s a standard isekai on paper; demon king, special powers, what have you, but it has a likable cast and laid-back vibe for much of its runtime that made is pleasant enough to watch.
As I said after the winter season, I really liked that Wrong Way spends a lot of its early story ensuring that the protagonist expends the time and effort necessary for him to become the hero he’s meant to be instead of the narrative just handing it to him from the start, which instantly sets it apart from most other wish-fulfillment isekai. It’s far from the best-looking anime I watched this year, but it has a mid-00s throwback look and feel to it that works more to its benefit than in Mysterious Disappearances. Nothing groundbreaking and a little too backloaded, but an enjoyable enough experience and one I’m looking forward to seeing come back.
The only really upsetting thing about this show is that Atsuko Tanaka (Major Kusanagi, Bayonetta, Kainé), who was tremendous as the intimidating Captain Rose, is no longer with us. She was an exceptional talent with an iconic voice who will be sorely missed, and future seasons of this show won’t be the same without her.
33. Go! Go! Loser Ranger
Though not a bad anime by most metrics, I still consider Loser Ranger a minor disappointment. It mostly looks great, and “what if The Boys was a sentai series” is a killer premise, but the story so far is extremely frontloaded. Almost too much happens in the first four episodes, and then the bulk of the last arc of the season takes place in a goddamn parking garage. I’m still annoyed by that. Still looking forward to season 2, but I wish the debut season had been 24 episodes to avoid the sour taste in my mouth.
Did you hear that echo? Yep, that's me telling you to watch yet another OP. Easily the best part of the show and one of the best of the year. Tatsuya Kitani can't keep getting away with it.
32. Astro Note
2024 turned out to be a banner year for Rumiko Takahashi’s older works making their way back to modern screens, and one of those entries wasn’t even hers.
Astro Note is an overt homage to Takahashi’s less-famous romcom Maison Ikkoku, which ran parallel to Urusei Yatsura for most of the latter’s run. Like Ikkoku, Astro Note follows a down-on-his-luck young man living in a boarding house full of bizarre miscreants who only stays because the manager is super pretty. Unlike Ikkoku, and unbeknownst to our protagonist, said manager is actually an alien who is practically turning the house over to find a secret alien MacGuffin.
This show looks lovely and has a delightful cast and some surprisingly moving subplots, but it’s nothing too special otherwise. There are some fun creative flourishes here and there, like the alien stuff shown in flashback being made to look like an older space opera anime, but aside from a very fun turn near the end of the season, Astro Note rarely rises above the level of simply “pleasant.” And that’s fine, but it doesn’t quite live up to the material it’s aping, and what we’ve ended up with is just a nice distraction.
I’m so glad I finally decided to read Maison Ikkoku though.
31. Shangri-La Frontier, second cour
It’s been a running joke for me that the more I watch Shangri-La Frontier, the less I’m sure whether I like it or not, and now with 25 episodes in the tank, I’m less sure than ever. The back half of the debut season improved on a few of the things that annoyed me about its first cour by focusing more on the high-quality action and introducing minor stakes to the proceedings, and then everything else surrounding it made it feel no less like I’m just watching a guy playing a goddamn video game, and the stakes still mostly seem to amount to "he wants to be good at it."
You may notice that I didn’t include the second season in this review, and that’s because I flat-out didn’t care to pick it back up. I’d been busy during the fall season and continuing a show I didn’t enjoy that much just wasn’t a high priority. It’s continuing into January, so there’s time to catch it while it airs, but I’m still not in any hurry.
28 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ur post about yui going to face adachi alone also adds a lot to yosuke being there when she comes back out, cause like it’s now as much as the canon explanation as it is fear that he might try something (she might be his reliable partner but she’s also still a girl going to face a creep)
I can just as easily see adachi forgoing the gun scare and just approaching her instead
It's good old fashioned misogyny. He thinks girls are weaker, stupider (yet somehow more cunning), lazier, and inherently more evil then even the most brick headed of guys. Girls are for cooking dinners and not much else. He thought that he deserved a relationship of any kind with Yamano and became personally infuriated when she had the affair.
"If only they did what I wanted, I wouldn't have to have killed them." and- he expects his worldview (at least in this particular scenario) is something that "everyone understands, at least on a subconscious level". Heck, even Kanji admits to brushing off info about Adachi calling out to high school girls because "thats how cops are, y'know?"
It's a card he plays on Yu constantly. A large amount of his social link is him expressing this on some level and asking you to agree. If the "right answers" are ones that net you social points, then you are playing (or possibly even letting Yu be groomed) into being a person just like him.
even some of the non-social pointed options are... very very not Yu-like at all. Yu is blunt. But he's not cruel.
I just wish the game didn't punish you (locking you out of achievements and persona) for rejecting these ideas or not desiring to finish it (like the game locks at 8 if you don't go in after him alone or taking the accomplice route- as well as making Yu have flashbacks of good moments as a justification for chasing him down) You can't even talk to your friends about it, or ask them to back you up, or at least have a scene that lets you rank up the link without betraying your friends trust in you/yu.
But, I guess that's the point.
IMO IT should be furious- Yosuke should be furious-- if you want a reversed magician event, then here it is (and even tho the game does do an event where he confronts you, he forgives you way too easily). But the game doesn't dole out consequences for this & Golden tries really hard to sell Yu and Adachi as a fated set of opposites (when, cough, Yosuke is a better opposite to Adachi than Yu, I think.) as if they aren't supposed to be a trio with Namatame or at least acting as an antithesis to the IT as a whole. It's a dynamic that is done so much better with Ren and Akechi it's almost comical.
So Yui approaching him alone is thrice as stupid and thrice as dangerous. Even in the scenario where Yui is a stronger person than Yu- in which she COULD single-handedly whoop his ass multiple times over- Adachi can never and would never consider her a threat or something remotely meaningful on the same level as he would Yu.
.. and I'm sure that Yui being Dojima's niece is the only thing keeping him from doing the same things he did to those other girls to her. And who knows, hopped up on enough power- he could do it to Nanako too. That's usually how things like that go.
in NG+: Girl Edition, she does not follow after him. Adachi gives her really bad vibes because he treats her differently too. He treats her like she's kinda stupid, and exacerbates her anxieties about the roles she chooses to fill. Instead, I like to think instead of Yosuke confronting her after the encounter, he catches her at the TV and they just talk for a bit about it. (the au is a vehicle for Yuiske after all lmaooo)
I think there are people with heavier Adachi brainrot than I ever will who can dissect this better than I. In the end, I think he's an excellent villian for P4, but I really am not a fan of the woobification Golden gave him LMAO.
#Anonymous#its a shame a lot of p4femc stuff is Adachi-centric and a lot of it exists to express and fetishize that power imbalance#NG+: But a Girl this Time
26 notes
·
View notes
Note
People hating evil characters is weird to me. I guess the only characters I actually hate are annoying ones cause usually that’s not a point of their character in the story, they just happen to be infuriating. Like Slade being a bad guy is cause he’s a bad guy, that’s like his whole point as a character. Yeah he can be nuanced and worse at times but he exists to be an antagonist. It completely makes sense to me that the Tara thing makes people uncomfortable but he’s still a fictional antagonist, it’s not really a moral failing on the part of the creators.
Tbh if you've experienced these characters in any way (read TJC or watched the more recent animated movie or read Deathstroke 2016 or watched Teen Titans 2003, or whatever else features their interaction) and you don't like Slade, that's fair enough.
Loving and hating characters (and every other emotion) happens all the time and it's part of the experience. HOWEVER, I do take issues when it's people who do not know the character, who have barely ever seen them and just heard "stuff" from other fandom people, who go on crusades against said character because "they did bad stuff".
You see it in people who hate Tarantula "because she raped Dick" and they have not read one single comic in which she appears - they have no idea what she even looks like or what's her real name, but they "hate her" because they read a post in which the sexual assault was mentioned and since she "did a bad thing" they "hate her now". This has to be the most shallow fucking thing, but it's convenient because if you hate on the "bad guy" it must mean you're morally pure and upstanding and you're one of the good ones.
Back to your point, hating on a character without any kind of reasoning or nuance only because they did "bad things" is the death of critical thinking. But people out there act like characters who do shit that's even vaguely considered unethical or morally reprehensible irl need to be hated, and like their existence is some sort of moral failing from the writer's part, and it's so fucking annoying and childish.
Which leads me to my second point which is a tad more controversial, but hey I'm a bitch with insufferable opinions so here we go I guess.
I'm bothered by people who pick a character and use them as their scapegoat, and I mean collectively as a fandom. It kind of is the case with Slade but he isn't the perfect example, however the principle is the same: hating on the villain, especially when the villain is very human and makes very human mistakes, using them as the only person who is capable of doing evil and therefore acquitting every other character of anything they ever did.
With Slade it becomes that Slade is the only bad guy of his story, who hurt Grant and hurt Adeline and hurt Joseph and raped Tara and killed and maimed and tortured, and therefore Grant has no blame in what he did to himself, and Adeline is just a poor innocent woman who was hurt by her unfaithful husband, and Joey did nothing wrong and everything that happened to him is solely Slade's fault, and Tara wasn't already a mercenary hitwoman for hire who lied and cheated and killed - rather she was just a poor innocent girl who was manipulated and corrupted by the Big Bad Guy.
I don't know if you see what I mean with this, but it's very much a thing in a lot of fandoms, especially when it comes to horror media where there is a cast of controversial, "imperfect" characters. One example of this is Mouthwashing, in which (spoilers ahead of course) there is a cast composed of people who range from being downright horrible to having very human but very noticeable flaws - every single one of them is "guilty" of something, and the protagonist in particular is also the one with the most prominent antisocial behaviors. But he's not benefiting from them - Jimmy isn't someone whose life is made better by his piece of shit behavior, rather this is a person with issues and who struggles with mental health (he's suicidal and has very strong delusions), giving him a very hard time keeping his life in order. Which of course doesn't make any of the horrible shit he does less horrible, but I think it's interesting how he's (mostly) not acting out of convenience, rather he's acting out his own demons. And what the fandom did was deciding that this guy is the only one to blame, and that his shitty behavior absolves everyone else of their sins. He's effectively the scapegoat and everyone else - it doesn't matter if they act selfishly, childishly, violently, cowardly or anything really - is guileless and has never done anything wrong in their lives. Jimmy is the only one who's to blame, and the rest of the cast is made of pure perfect angels.
I've seen this happen in many many cases. And it sort of turns into a mob of people whose only fandom personality is to hate on this one guy and gather Upstanding Morality Points, and of course the natural consequence of this is bothering or even outright harassing people who instead are fans of such flawed characters.
I hate it. I'm not saying anyone should have to like a character in particular, but the way people hate on the "easy to hate" guy instead of trying to understand them, especially when it's a complex character whose action make them suffer as much as the people they're hurting, distances me from fandom spaces. People will see a feral beast of a character with their leg caught in a bear trap hissing and growling while in the process of chewing their own limb off, and will toss stones at them and call them disgusting and weird. It's so unkind and I hate it so much.
#sorry for the wall of text#I'm probably gonna get people in my ask inbox going like YOU CAN'T TELL PEOPLE THEY CAN'T HATE X CHARACTER#because this is the reading comprehension level on the pissing on the poor website#but anyway#my asks
18 notes
·
View notes
Note
#saying that having a victim of sexual violence is male-gazey and horrific and bad in a show about imperial violence that has explicit scenes#of brown men dying but THAT is not horrific enough dooes say a lot#ed tells rose she has to walk forward and she will and she will rebuild liore and she'll find happiness for herself with her own two hands#but ed turns back because there s no forward for him without al and what happiness is there for him when his hands are stained with so much#blood. that's why i love him being with noah. he can walk forward with her as he didn't with rose#the story repeats and the snake eats its own tail but maybe everytime we walk this path again we can do it better#rose walks out of her role in the story in the end and ed can too at the end of cos via @khutsydoh
yes yes exactly--and i mean tbc, a lot of 03 detractors will call the show "grimdark" in part bc it focuses on the actual pov of the victims of war crimes instead of watering them down to "look at these poor white soldiers feeling bad that they're participating in genocide :(" let's be honest lmfaooooooo. but yeah, a *veiled* reference to gang rape that's not even explicit nor is it ever shown, leading to a character being traumatized enough that she becomes non-verbal is apparently "male gazey" and "grimdark" even though the show was quite explicitly drawing real life parallels to events occurring as it was airing!
but yeah it's really, really important that rose gets to walk away from the elrics and do her own thing. it's important that rose gets to be happy, in the end--to rebuild liore by herself, with her people (which is also what makes the cos decision to include armstrong in the rebuilding baffling and infuriating and frankly it was only done bc they needed to put armstrong as a fan fave character SOMEWHERE lmfao). it's important that she gets her body and her voice back, that she gets to move on--and it's important that when ed meets noah on earth, noah who ISNT ROSE but obviously resembles her and likewise can connect to ed in feeling disconnected from this world they live in, that ed is so much more humbled and ready to hear her side instead of making fun of her or assuming her life experiences; that when she makes the choices she makes in cos he understands her completely and still tries to make it up to her. it's important that where 03 begins on ed and al leaving rose in liore without understanding the horrific consequences of what they've set into motion that will wreck her life, cos ends on rose living her own life in liore, and on ed and al on earth parting on good terms with noah, existing on her own terms, while they've accepted that it's their responsibility to fix things and help this world in whatever way they can. of course my ideal ending is noah traveling with the elrics, which isn't cos canon--but idc it's real to me for uhhhhh (check my fic draft) 37k words worth of reason
i would really like to hear more of your thoughts on fma03 rose. i really love her but a lot of discussion i see is very shallow and completely ignores how she relates to the themes of the show. there's probably an essay about people's reaction to the depiction of rape in fma03 but i don't have the words for it right now.
yeah i got thoughts about 03 rose. i got so many thoughts it keeps me up at night quite literally. anyhow.
so in the manga rose is basically an audience stand-in for plot/worldbuilding exposition right? she's basically mostly made to stand there and React To the elrics’ alchemy, their basic backstory (mom died, we tried to bring her back through human transmutation) and the revelation about their bodies. she's resentful of their intervention at first, but iirc only comes up later again even after liore descends into civil war to basically thank the elrics for showing her the true light etc etc right. same as it ever is with the manga—ed is always right and apart from a few truly egregious mistakes that are never really TRULY his fault, what he does ends up being for the best. iirc (and you might correct me if im wrong bc i am not rereading the manga lol) she basically barely comes up again and not really in any plot or thematic relevant bit.
03 rose is very different in her role from the very start. sure, she's still a bit of an audience stand-in for exposition, but—her grief and desperation for her dead fiancee and how she was an orphan, her devotion to the liorite religion, her general desperation to cling onto the hope of resurrection are all strongly expanded upon and make her feel more real. not only that, she is made a direct parallel to the brothers’ own obstinacy and grief in episode 3; al far more directly relates to her, too (which is interesting when you consider his later relationship to scar). she actively is horrified by the elrics, and “betrays” them not once but twice in hope of getting her fiancé back. the chimera bird is SUUUUCH a good addition to the prologue, it's creepy and grotesque and underlines the unsettling nature of alchemy itself in 03, not just human transmutation. and the ending to episode 2 is just—chefs kiss. it's not a triumph for the elrics, or a liberation for rose. she's bitter and sad, ed tells her to move with her own two legs (a phrase that will come back to haunt him!!!!) but it sounds…. kinda hollow and doesnt do much to comfort her then. later she clings to that phrase even as her world disintegrates, and as she is the only liorite who realizes the new priest is clearly a fraud and breaks down about it. the elrics leave rose in liore, their job done—but this is just the beginning of HER story and liore’s altogether. because unlike the manga and bh, 2003 is deeply concerned with consequences, with how careless words and actions that might seem heroic or necessary, or justifications for *juuuust* a little destabilization or transmutation or fight from the people who hold all the power (specifically alchemists; more specifically dante/hohenheim and state alchemists) lead to truly horrific consequences.
and like, one of the best examples of this isnt just ed’s intervention in liore—especially as one could argue that dante’s plans were already in motion there and that war with amestris was always in the plans. but yknow, ed certainly didnt help in playing his role there. no, the best example is ep 5—years before ed and al arrive in liore, they save general hakuro from the train attack. the guy who seems like a Nice Military Man with his family attacked by evil rebels, right? well, that same man is the one who is going to lead the repression of liore and who in all likelihood is responsible for rose’s rape and abuse. ed has saved the man who is going to destroy rose’s life!
because rose really is key to the themes of 03. but not just of consequence, but of *resistance* to imperialist warmongers. when the conflict in liore breaks out, rose is shown to be protecting children—she refuses to sell out her people, she actively resists the amestrian military. when they claim they are Just Here To Help the civilian conflict it is directly juxtaposed with the army literally shooting down civilians; AND in the same episode with scar hunting and killing state alchemists as we get flashbacks of ishbal. because yes, rose and the liorites being brown is relevant to the story being told here—and it's also impossible to ignore the direct parallels to american justifications of intervention in the war in iraq. this took place the same year, for fuck’s sake! so rose’s call of this is our home, we are the ones who get to deal with this mess—feels deeply relevant. and the tragedy here to me, rose’s greatest tragedy—is that she cites edward here, talking about using her own legs!!! because she did end up connecting to the brothers on a deeply personal level, while being unaware of ed’s role in the horrors happening to her, that are about to happen to her. like. my gd, the sheer ache of it.
so much has been said by 03 detractors about what happens to rose. for years i remember being calling 2003 evil and antifeminist and gross because it features the gang rape of a female character. and i have no idea how much of it is word of mouth about what actually happens in 03—lots of people seemed convinced that there was a graphic gang rape scene that was male gazey etc—but even those who know the reality that all of this is alluded to discreetly (we never see or hear her being assaulted, there isnt even a fade to black or direct aftermath!!!) have claimed that it's inherently bad for fma 03 to have a character who is explicitly a sexual violence survivor.
and like. that's flat out reactionary. i have no other words for it. this is just reactionary shit. acting like a female character being raped in the context of a war crime, in a story that explicitly about impeialist violence, is in itself evil and bad is just… saying that you think that even implicit depiction of sexual violence is bad and antifeminist (which says a lot about how you view victims lmao); but particularly ignoring the context of it and how subtly and sympathetically it's framed?? we never get a direct vision of rose being raped; we see the aftermath. she is traumatized and her voice has literally been silenced. she got pregnant and carried a baby from this assault, who is a walking reminder of what was done to her and by extension, liore. essentially 03 is saying that amestrian imperialist and racist violence includes all forms of violence, and people throw a fit over it just like they moan that the changes to scar in 03 are supposedly bad bc bla bla his whole point is that revenge is bad. meanwhile 03 again and again says: victims of imperialist violence and genocide are the ones who understand this violence best and they have every right to resist violently, no matter the excuses from the imperialist armies or how sympathetic/funny you find their soldiers to be.
so anyhow: there's definitely a horrific tragedy to rose in the last third of 03, and her ongoing victimisation and abuse. but it's also interesting to me because it parallels how ed is being manipulated/groomed by dante in entirely different ways. rose’s gang rape, the violence against her—essentially and tragically becomes a symbol of resistance there too. the forced pregnancy and the violence against her becomes a source of reverence from liorites who see her as their leader and guide, even as she was literally silenced. but despite what ed claims, and despite dante’s intervention, it's pretty clear in the show that rose has a degree of agency. she isnt being used by scar, though they're all being manipulated by dante to some degree—she is actively helping scar in his rallying the liorites and seeing a parallel between what was done to ishbalans and what was done to liorites. she is endorsing him knowingly when he makes his plan to murder amestrian soldiers for the stone. 03 treads this delicate balance of how yes, dante is controlling everyone—but what scar is doing *is* right and is presented as such narratively. i was told recently that in an interview the creators said they'd originally planned on ending the show in liore as full circle, but then they had all this other stuff to wrap up and didnt get their extra season/mini series to expand on munich and what eventually became cos. but it's fascinating ti me anyhow.
so, rose’s connection to ed—it feels less like deliberate romance, though yeah i do think that the romantic undernotes are deliberate—there’s definitely a tragedy to it. rose’s baby’s cries remind ed throughout his entire stay in liore that he is responsible for all this. but rose doesnt hate him for it, i think she recognizes that he was manipulated—the same way she had been in ep 1 and 2. she sees her own grief reflected in him. she stands up to wrath and reclaims her voice in a moment that's kinda corny but effective. i always get emo when dante is trying to scold ed and he ignores her to thank rose for saving him and being happy she got her voice back.
and then the last season—rose’s abuse is continued until the end. dante, in many ways, is the very incarnation of alchemy at its worse: seeing people as material, state alchemy as inherently dehumanizing people and things and classifying them in various degrees of inhumanity who can be safely Unpersoned and used. liorites and ishbalans among them. dante is partially responsible for amestris’s policies, and she sees rose, a girl victim of gang rape, and decides to groom her for her own purposes and to use her body as her own. and it's very much sexual in nature, a continual sexual use and abuse of Othered bodies (including rose's baby, used in her experimentations). and unlike in liore, where rose has a degree of agency, she is completely stripped from it by dante: presumably drugged.
it's not a coincidence if dante was putting rose and ed together in that ballroom. it's not just a callback to the two first eps and how far ed and rose have come of characters, what has been done to them; their paths as he, the white amestrian state alchemist that dante plans to groom as her romantic/sexual partner and student in alchemy, and she, the brown liorite girl who fought back every step and was brutalized and dehumanized to the extreme and to dante, is just another body to use and discard and rape—theyve always been intertwined. what ed did directly affected rose's life. now rose is offered as a “reward” to ed, if he chooses to continue as an alchemist in the way he's supposed to. it feels very….. anthy as the witch, while utena is given a princess’s dress and told she will be happily ever after with akio
but anyhow ed refuses. so dante gets rid of him. she lobotomizes gluttony. she punishes wrath and takes his limbs. she is literally having al consumed alive. rose is there, in shock at the events—theres an argument to be made that she could have been more active here tbh, but the last two eps are so cram full of stuff i guess they didnt have time. but anyhow… as soon as al sacrificed himself, dantes plans were moot, bc she really is that certain of other characters’ complete lack of agency and humanity! she just gawks stupidly. it's great. and then she leaves and just…. abandons rose.
so it's full circle again. ed al and rose and her baby. al is gone. ed is shattered. the baby cries, a reminder to ed that his actions have consequences. he asks rose one last thing: to go to resenbool—a place she'll be safe—and take wrath. likely she later changed her mind and returned and realized he lied to find al where he was. ed’s last words he hears from another person in amestris are the same words he told rose in episode 2. you've got two strong legs—you can survive, and go on. rose will survive. she will live, rebuild. she will find happiness after this horror, if she looks ahead. ed does not answer. he doesnt believe he can live without al, and chooses not to. he does the exact same thing rose did all these years ago: he chooses to believe, even if there's absolutely no reason he'll get what he want and even if it's more likely to end badly. and…. he's not rewarded for it. his brother is back, but without memories. ed loses his home forever. but it's significant that he eventually meets noah—she is not rose, but she looks like rose and is also from a marginalized group, and it would be silly to suggest that ed doesn't see rose in her. i find the liore section in cos deeply silly (why is the army there!!!) but it's significant to see rose play an active role in rebuilding her town, in building a new life after the horrors. the whole show, she's been a parallel to ed, an active resistant agent to amestrian violence, and the most significant victim of that violence to the point of bearing its physical traces.
do i wish we'd gotten more of her as an active agent afterwars? yes. do i wish to have seen the version where the show was supposed to culminate in liore? also yes. do i wish id seen her own feelings on what it was like to bear a child of rape and then being praised for it? a hundred percent. but again i wish for many things in 03. in part bc it was committing to giving me what bh wouldnt even dare to throw a bone about! but anyhow. i love rose
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
If Ulysses has a million haters, then I'm one of them. If Ulysses has one hater, then I'm THAT ONE. If Ulysses has no haters, that means I'm dead. If the world is with Ulysses than I’m against the world.
#this is slightly joking but like also not but also like am mixed on Ulysses on many factors#infuriating because i sympathize with his pain but it’s like#he is a well written and fundamentally flawed character whose hypocrisy I found doubly in#black characters I can tell were designed by white people with a semblance of an understanding of activism and bipoc oppression#but not enough for the character to not feel like hand holding for the majority white audience#plus personal grips with the whole twisted hairs thing and reference to slave braiding patterns#Ulysses irks me as a black person on a weird personal level and I can go into debt on why him being black is a big detractor for him to me#like he continues this cycle of distancing himself from his roots before remembering over and over again through his actions#he leave so much in his wake that the courier ends up correcting or helping like in honest hearts and old world blues because he’s self#righteous in a subtle way even to himself that he believes he stand out of his one man rule when he does not play an active hand#saw a post talk about how you choose to continue moving through his story and can leave at any moment and this it is partially your fault#but what of the oath that is set before you and is forced to take that he set up#I do not have to walk it but when I do the steps are not my own but those taken for me#you have to go out of your way to change it which is not something he expects because he’s playing by a story he’s been perpetuating in his#head about you two and the effect one man has when he’s continually been that one man more so than you as many of his actions directly lead#to the one you go through also the irony in the flag he continues to bear being the real reason he has no home#like he reps it when the package is likely enclave and thus use the same symbol#also still can’t get over how anyone could have delivered the package and he tries so hard to act like it was the couriers destiny or fate#when this was the one case of chance and that once man was likely a enclave engineer and how it’s really is never one man#it the process and he’s so annoying about it like he’s a cool character but if you don’t believe in his philosophy or already went through#these ideas cause they are very common talking points in poc especially BIPOC spaces he’s just old hashings and stunted#fallout#fallout new vegas#Ulysses you upset me but I’m like I feel you could be better if you weren’t so incessant#I don’t think I ever want to make a serious post stating this about him just because I’d start yapping and it’d never get finished#ulysses fnv#fnv ulysses#lonesome road
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
how i look after deluding myself for so long thinking this mf actually cared about me because they did things such as “telling me how much they care about me” and “showering me in attention for months and introducing me to all of their friends” and me communicating to them “hey this is super cool and you make me really happy so i hope you don’t lose interest and move onto the next girl once i’m no longer bright and shiny and new to you” and them being like “I would NEVER do that” only for them to do Literally Exactly That™️ so after all that internal work i had to do to even let someone into my life as a potentially significant friend again they just pulled back as soon as I wasn’t fun anymore so NO we were never actually friends and YES i was probably just a sex object meant to boost their ego because they deeply dislike themselves
#it’s okay i screamed ‘FUCK YOU’ and ‘GO TO HELL’ at them a bunch last night#out of context irl drama#at the same time I also Get It. like. they weren’t signing up for all my internal bullshit when they swiped me on hinge#like i would distance from me too but they kept insisting that’s wasn’t what was happening#it just makes me so sad and so frustrated because i knew how this would end#i feel like a lot of people in these situations can feel like they aren’t ‘enough’#and what i hate is that I was SO VERY MUCH ENOUGH#like i am beautiful and smart and talented and hardworking and funny and charming and interesting and strong and accomplished#and it can STILL NOT BE ENOUGH. and it’s INFURIATING. because what MORE do I have to be? what do YOU think you deserve?
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
I sometimes still catch myself thinking “Man, I just wanna die” (I know this is not true) but then I see my mother and go “No, I just wanna live without these people around me” and then I do one dig deeper and make peace with what I really mean and that’s “I have to outlive you because I fucking deserve to have a life outside of this bullshit” and yeah. Much better. It doesn’t help that both of them (grandmother and mother) like to occasionally tell us their dying scenarios. Like. Thanks. Can you like. Try to not make my desire to flee worse. Because I don’t want to wish you death but it’s like. Not going to get better if you just do this. Get help.
#d0 stuff#negative#we had an argument about the dishes again#and to all of the veterans here: yes I know this has been going on for as long as this tumblr exists#it’s just. still a problem. an unending cycle because I fucking Hate my parents’ guts and it’s actually not about the dishes or house#chores or anything like that. it’s about how they care so much about dumb things there are solutions to (not perfect maybe but not#disastrous either) and not care nearly enough about the human component. mental health? non existent. fatigue? just an excuse. permanent#debuffs? I’m making shit up. how can I suffer bc of them? that’s unheard of#circus family time#there is my fault in there and that’s letting my resentment seep so deep that#I regularly let it impact my actual house chores doing but you know#it’s like. I’ve wanted to be good for them. but they will never see me like that. the moment I showed anything weird they went on forceful#correcting instead of listening to what I had to say#they are all people caring more about reputations and facades than their own children/family members’ well-being#it’s infuriating#they are all fake#and idk. like. I could do better. I should do better I know. but it’s just goddamn hard to do things and get yelled at and then turn around#and see how they gush about my brother doing basically anything (the bare minimum after they told me to go remind him multiple times) or#how they literally take so much bs from anyone outside of the family#I swear. Some stranger’s potential opinion about them matters more than if their children feel hurt or not#anyways. this back and forth that’s been going on since my early teens is the reason I can’t just#do things for them without it feeling like a monumental task#like. I’m an acts of service person ffs. but I can’t do that. not for them#lmfao okay that’s enough whining for today#tho it’s funny how they will always be like ‘you have to control yourself no matter the situation’ and when we start arguing it’s always#them telling me to shut up (despite me keeping a calm tone) and them shooting me with literally all ammunition they can think of#fun right#and then there’s always this funny thing when they scream that I don’t even care about them do I#and that’s hilarious bc I do. Guess who literally deals with the worst of medical crises and who fucking keeps half of their energy to be#the guard dog. yeah but I don’t love you (anymore) and bc of that I’m a monster? lmao
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Noah was pretty sure that somewhere, in some karmic ledger, this was payback for every bad decision he’d ever made. Of course, Sammi would find a way to turn a near-death experience into an argument about bath time. Because why process trauma like a normal person when you can channel all your energy into debating basic safety precautions? It wasn’t fear clawing at his chest when he saw her stubbornly arguing with the nurse—it was irritation wrapped in a layer of disbelief. She had a concussion, dried blood on her face, and the audacity to demand unsupervised bubble baths. And the worst part? He couldn’t decide if he wanted to shake her for being reckless or laugh at how on-brand it was for her to make even this a fight. And yet, beneath the sarcastic swirl of 'Seriously, what did I do to deserve this?' was the familiar, unwanted pang of protectiveness that always came with her. She could be infuriating, reckless, and absolutely impossible, but she was his impossible mess, even if only in some twisted, nostalgic corner of his heart. That feeling, he decided, was the real punishment. Not her stubbornness, not the argument, but the fact that he still cared enough to fight the urge to wrap her in bubble wrap and stand guard outside the bathroom. If he had a drink for every time she made him feel like this—equal parts amused and completely over it—he’d have been unconscious hours ago. Instead, here he was, trying to decide whether to strangle her, laugh, or just admit defeat and make sure she didn’t drown in three feet of soapy water. Noah leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the nurse throw him a pleading glance like she was about five seconds from quitting. He let out a long-suffering sigh, the kind that said I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but then again, this was Sammi, and nothing was ever simple with her.
“Alright, ” he said, uncrossing his arms and waving a hand toward the door. “You’ve done your bit. Go home. Take the rest of the night off. I’ll deal with her.” His tone was casual, but there was a finality to it that left no room for argument. The nurse hesitated, glancing between him and Sammi, who was no doubt standing there with her arms crossed and an expression that screamed victory. “Are you sure?” the nurse asked, clearly unconvinced. “She’s—”
“I know exactly what she is,” Noah cut in, his smirk sharp enough to draw blood. “Stubborn, reckless, and entirely too good at giving people migraines. But trust me, I’ve been dealing with this one for years. She’s not going to get the better of me.” The nurse still looked reluctant, but Noah’s expression didn’t waver. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she nodded. “Fine. But if anything happens—”
“Nothing will happen,” Noah said smoothly, already moving toward Sammi. “I’ve got it under control.” Once the nurse left, Noah turned to Sammi, his smirk morphing into something more amused as he looked her over. “There. Now it’s just the two of us. Happy?” He gestured toward the bathroom with a flourish. “Your royal highness can have her bath in peace, and I’ll be right outside, making sure you don’t go and drown yourself just to prove a point.” His fingers twitched at his sides, itching for another drink, but he knew he’d already had enough to mess with his judgment—not that his judgment was ever particularly solid when it came to Sammi. Sammi in the bath, her hair wet, her skin flushed from the heat, vulnerable in a way that twisted something deep inside him. He hated himself for it. Hated how easily his resolve cracked when it came to her. He was supposed to be the guy with ice in his veins, the one who could cut anyone loose when the situation demanded it. But with her? With her, it was like fate had written them into the same damn story, and no matter how many times he ripped the pages out, they found their way back. He told himself he was just keeping her safe. That this wasn’t about her, or the way her laugh used to light up the darkest corners of his life, or how she could get under his skin like no one else. But the truth? The truth was sitting in his chest like a live grenade, waiting to go off. He wanted her. He always had. And the fact that she was off-limits now made it worse. That diamond on her finger should have been a wall, a hard line he wouldn’t cross. Instead, it felt like a taunt, daring him to see how close he could get before he burned.
It felt like a blur. The shots, blood spattered across her face, the sharp pain above her brow. She didn't know whether it was shock or the inability to process everything at once, but it was only when Sammi was in the safety of his car that she was able to process some of what had happened. "What happened? Who were they?" She didn't know that he would know but she was also verbally trying to go through the incidents that happened. The flashes of people falling, the sounds of gunfire in her ear, the searing pain in her forehead made it impossible for her to fully focus on where he was taking her and whether or not she was injured more than her head— or if he'd been hurt in the process. Soon enough, they found themselves at his place and she knew simply by the way the home engulfed her. The scent hit her, the familiar faces, the vastness that was a far cry from the small two bedroom apartment that she lived in with her roommate. She recognized the nurse from the time she'd broken a glass of wine and cut herself, having stitched her back up and treated her with nothing but gentleness and respect. "I'm fine," she tried to assure him and the woman but she should have known better. Noah wouldn't risk it with her and the nurse was his employee who knew of their relationship and wouldn't risk letting something slide by that would effect the woman that Noah loved.
She nodded at Noah, watching him excuse himself before her attention turned towards the nurse. "I think I may have had a concussion from how nausea I was upon impact, and I was dizzy, but I feel better." Whether it was a moment of clarify or maybe she hadn't hit her head hard enough, she wasn't certain. All she knew was that she was hyper focused on where she was and how wrong it was for her to be here. She'd walked away from Noah with the intent to be with the man that she was meant to spend the rest of her life with, and with her wedding a few days away, this could implode everything. If her husband-to-be found out where she was and Noah still decided to walk away after all of this, Sammi could very well be left on her own. It was her who had everything to lose in this scenario. Nevertheless, she knew that she wasn't going to be leaving in this moment because as stubborn as she was, Noah was by far worse, especially if her safety was in jeopardy. Instead, she focused on doing as the nurse requested and following the orders in order to determine whether she was okay to leave or needed to be watched for the next few hours. She took some medicine, drank some water, and was allowed to rest for an hour without falling asleep in the hopes that the pounding of her head would vanish on its own. But as time passed and boredom grew, she found herself more and more uncomfortable in her own skin. The stench of alcohol, sensation of caked blood, and too tight clothes threatened to drive her crazy.
The echoes of her argument with the nurse soon could be heard down the hall. "It's just a shower!" She yelled out towards the nurse who assured her that the risk of falling over was too grand and she wouldn't allow her. "I don't need you to help me shower or watch over me like a child" Sammi said as she stood from the bed knowing that she wouldn't be tackle into not taking a shower should she want to take one. After a while, they compromised on a bath but Sammi was still reluctant to the aid in cleaning herself up. As someone who loathed depending on other people, she wouldn't back down and accept the help. "No, I'm not having you bathe me. If I end up passing out and drowning then that's the risk I'm willing to take!" Her voice echoed throughout the large home as she walked out of the guest bedroom in search for Noah. "Noah!" The blonde called, wincing at the dizzy spell when she walked but she fought past it. The bandage on her eye had stopped the bleeding. "Can you tell her that I want to take a bath and don't need to be supervised or washed like a toddler?" She said upon finding him, knowing that the nurse would only back down upon his request. He payed her bills and while there were many expensive and important things within this home, she was by far the most cherished to him. At least, she hoped.
"Noah will sit down in the bedroom while I bathe and if he doesn't hear me for ten seconds, he'll rush in. Happy?" She told the nurse who then fixed her gaze on Noah for his approval. At least the male was someone she was comfortable around and while it wasn't the most appropriate, Sammi decided that she wouldn't allow herself to teether close to any sort of line that would disrespect her partner. The blonde touched the diamond on her finger as a reminder. "I'll have bubbles." She told the nurse with a smile on her face and cleared her throat. "I'm guessing that I won't be getting alcohol anytime soon." Likely not with the medicine she was on, but she grimaced at that fact even though her words were sarcastic. "I'll be in the bath. I just need to wash the blood and alcohol smell off of me." Her words turned softer as she held Noah's gaze for a minute longer. Almost as if to let him know that she was okay. "And then I need a phone to call my fiance." Her gaze avoided his now. "I lost mine."
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Like it was never about me or what was best for me...I have to laugh because of how absolutely ABSURD it is
#and i let it HAPPEN#i genuinely dont know how else to react like.#stepping away and seeing it all for what it is in the light of day...with sober eyes...like wow. goddamn#like i just?? dont understand#'i told my friends about what you did to me' 'that's ur right' and then not even 2 weeks later 'i cant believe u told them..'#because i did it 'to make them hate you' like 1. then why did u do it. why did u do it then?#2. all i said was what you did.#then my friends said 'hey you deserve someone who listens to your boundaries that's not okay'#i shpuld be able to tell ppl how my partner treats me it shouldnt be smth i hide from them.#telling them was for me. but that didnt matter. your image did#well now they know. and now you know your actions have consequences.#it's just so infuriating. the amount i poured and poured and looking back it's like.#now i see so clearly it was all a fucking mirage it was never fucking real.#it's so unfair. i dont understand how it went on that long#not that he cares he gets to move on because he never really put in anything. no steps were taken no real truth was given#meanwhile i opened my life and bore my soul so.#like good for him ig he can just move on and get what he wants from someone new#and good for me because now i know more#but i still have to deal w this bullshit future i planned w someone who i now realized never wanted it really#like fuck. fuck#goddammit#so whatever i guess#and i hid SO MUCH because i KNEW how it would look#but to ME who had all the 'context' i didnt want them to just see what i told them#but i now realize the 'context' was all bullshit and i should not have been trying to protect someone who didnt even care enough to listen#to me saying no. god. i wasnt even asking for that much either.#i wasnt crazy. i wasnt acting like my dad. i was being a normal adult. it just crushes me.#because if i was in his place and i truly believed i was with my soul mate i would have simply done the hard shit.#but he didnt believe that ig so! now i know!!#yippee!!!!!
0 notes
Text
Girl, I Do This Often
Synopsis. How does he cope with a séx ban? He doesn’t.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, rough séx, unprotected, stuff with pantíes, gaggíng, bréeding, Nanami is a bit mean, overstím, finger suckíng, really desperate boys, light smackíng (Nanami), bondagé + víbrators (Geto), swearing.
Word count. 5.2k
A/N. Guess what, ya girl just turned 19 yippeeeee.
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 4 days
On the first day, Toji’s more amused than anything.
A sex ban? With him? Ridiculous, he predicted a full 24 hours before you come crawling back, just begging to be split-apart on his cock. And he tells you so, too - a little over five times as he kisses your pouty lips, muttering a smug, “You’ll be eating your words soon enough, doll.”
By the third day, he’s beginning to think that okay, maybe you were serious about the ban after all. How cute - real cute.
He’s left to do nothing but complain pathetically on the phone to a very reluctant Shiu. Who doesn’t have much to say other than cut off Toji’s ramblings about “not having your pretty pussy all day” to groan, “Shut the fuck up and beg for her forgiveness. I’m hanging up.”
Toji can only scoff at the thought. Beg for forgiveness? Him? Toji Fushiguro never begs, he never-
That was until the fourth day.
With you - bent over the kitchen counter in his t-shirt - and nothing but his t-shirt.
“Please, pretty.” Toji drags his lips down your neck, just loving the way your traitorous hips are grinding back into his. “Said m’sorry, right? Don’t ya miss this?”
And you can only look behind your shoulder at the big arms around your waist, muscled thighs pressed up against yours. Angling your head just right to catch the way his hands snake down to your squirming hips to help you draw slow little circles against the rock-hard erection straining against his pants.
So close. So big.
Big enough that you’re almost thinking of throwing this sec ban out of the window altogether - almost.
But that little smirk of Toji’s is infuriating enough that you’re gasping out a breathless little, “I-I’m still mad at you, y’know? You never let me-” The words die in your throat as Toji pulls his pants down just enough for his aching cock to spring free. So angry and painfully hard, leaking hot precum all over your thighs.
“No no no- hah. Keep talking.” he grits out, breath hot against your ear. Hips pushing and pulling. “Please- keep talking.”
And fuck you didn’t know what was harder - trying to find your voice, or ripping your eyes away from Toji’s cock long enough that you could.
“B-because you-” you choke out, watching the way he takes his massive cock in his hands. Staring to pump so slow - so lazy - no rhythm or reason other than getting off so filthily to the sound of your voice. “You never let me take-” He wraps your smaller hands around his dick, so hot and heavy in your palms. “-charge.”
“F-fuck-” Toji lets out a low hiss, head thrown back as you thumb teasingly under his sensitive slit, trying to fuck something delicious out. “Yer killin’ me doll. Killing me.” Whether from your words or from the way you’re sliding him so lewdly between your puffy folds, you didn’t know.
And Toji didn’t either. Hell, he doesn’t even seem to be breathing as he shifts his toned hips so familiarly. Head filled with only you and your heavenly cunt and you.
“Toji-” you mewl. “Need you so bad.”
If he was any lesser man, Toji would’ve just bullied himself into your dripping cunt already, fucked you into the counter until there was nothing about any sex ban in your pretty lil’ mind. Instead, he’s panting out an absolutely wrecked, “Please. Then take all the charge you want, pretty.” Fat head lining up with your sloppy hole. “Next time.”
And oh has it really been that long?
Because Toji’s just barely pushing into your plushy walls, and he already feels like he could cum right then and there. The stretch too sinful. Your walls too tight. So cute how you’re already mumbling his name so deliriously.
“Awww,” he coos, watching awe-struck at the way you flatten your hands on the counter, fucking yourself back into him in short, shallow little grinds. “The s-sex ban was for ah- nothing, huh?”
You’re pulling him impossibly closer by the hair, catching his lips in such a searing kiss. Drinking in Toji’s guttural grunt as you bite down on his lower lip, “Are ya gonna sh-shut up n’ fuck me or do I need ngh- another sex ban?”
“No, ma’am.” he grins, kissing back so mockingly soft. And you know he’s making fun of you with the way he’s twitching so wildly inside your pussy. Veins dragging against all the right spots as he reels his hips back, back, back - only to slam his cock fully inside. “Guess you’re the one mm- in charge right now, huh?”
Over and over again. Fucking you exactly the way he’s wanted these past four days - and then some.
Hitting your cervix - but it feels like your fucking lungs. Heavy balls smacking against your ass, so hard that he’s sure it’ll leave some obscene marks for him to point out next time. One hand around your throat, the other keeping your slutty, trembling hips in place while you’re torn between running away and bucking back for more more more-
“Right here.”
It’s all you can do to whirl your head around, eyes glassy and unfocused, whining a broken, “Wh-what?”
“Right…” Trailing down, featherlight, right where he knew he was wrecking your insides. “Here. S’where I belong.” Pressing hard. “N’ m’gonna make sure you don’t forget it.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - 1 week
A week. One week of being patient with your silly idea to “spice things up”. One week of pretending like he wasn’t excusing himself during important meetings to have his cock in his hands - thinking of nothing but you and that sinful little dress you had on today.
One week was all it took for Nanami to have a bad day at work. And you could tell when he did.
By the way that front door slammed, unfamiliarly harsh footsteps sounding against the hardwood floors. And all it takes is one look at you laid out so prettily on the couch and Nanami’s mouth drops into a soft oh!
One hand immediately loosening his tie, the other snaking down to his belt. Ashen, tense, - and you have half the mind to wonder whether he’s even breathing.
Not even looking at you as he mutters a low, “Panties off. Spread those legs.”
That was a few hours ago.
Before you knew it, your husband had you splayed out like such a slut for him on the couch - too starved to even think about making it to the bed. Legs on his sculpted shoulders, panties in tatters on the floor because you were taking too fucking long. Cock so angry and sensitive as he bullies into your snug cunt, stuffing you full of his cum.
Again. And again and again like he wanted to fuck any and every thought of that stupid sex ban out of your delirious mind.
“K-Kento- what-” he pulls you into a bruising kiss. Just a sloppy clash of teeth and spit and hands everywhere. “You’re ngh- different.”
At this, Nanami has the audacity to laugh - laugh. Hips snapping impossibly deeper, “Yeah? N’ who’s fault is hah- that? Who’s fault is it th-that we ended hngh- up like-” Pushing your knees all the way up to your tits, groaning at the mess of cum and slick pooling beneath you. “-this?”
Cock just ramming into you, prominent veins nudging against your gummy walls so agonizingly. The couch creaking in protest as he uses your pretty lil’ cunt exactly the way he’s been fantasizing this past week.
And when all you can do is let out delirious little moans in response, Nanami raises his hand up, up, up. Coming down on your ass, hard.
Smack!
“Didn’t you know we’d end up here?”
Oh the words hit you harder than that large palm-print stinging your ass. Tight pussy clenching and trying to milk the fucking soul out of him as you sob, “I- I didn’t-” Smack! You’re jolting at the impact, hips bucking wildly as you gasp, “-I did! Wanted this so bad, Kento. I did I did-”
And yeah, Nanami knew that. He knew you’d pulled this little “sex ban” stunt to make him break - to have him fuck you like the slut you are. But hearing the words from your pretty mouth had his balls squeezing so painfully.
“Knew it.” he manages to grit out. “Knew you were such a slut, my love.” Words strained with each harsh thrust, “N’ as my slut, y-you can ngh- take one more, right?” You keen at how soft his tone was, like he was whispering sweet little nothings to you instead of promises to absolutely break you. Fingers trailing down to draw lewd patterns on your throbbing clit, “Right?”
And as if to prove you could, he’s squeezing his swollen cock harder into your plushy walls. Faster. Unforgiving. Fat, leaking tip hitting all those sweet spots he’s mapped out, in time with his abuse on your clit.
“Didn’t hah- have to lock myself in my office for nothing, right?” Pulling your trembling hips flush against his toned ones, “Have to get by with j-just a pretty picture this week for nothing?” Hips out of control now. Bruising. Almost painful with the stretch and the sheer pressure of being so full. “S’all for this, right?”
Smack!
“Oh God, Kento- Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”
“Yeah? Feels good?” he nips at your lower lip, “Good enough to fuck- take another one?”
You were sure if he came once more then it might just be the death of you.
You’re not even lucid enough to realize what reaction you’re giving him - all you know is that it isn’t good enough for Nanami.
Because he lets out a tut, hand dancing across your stomach to where he knew he was absolutely making a mess of you inside.
“Fine.” And something about the way he says it makes your heart stop, already knowing that it didn’t bode well for you or your poor cunt. “Guess I hafta ngh- help you.” Sure enough, Nanami wastes no time before pushing down on your abdomen.
The both of you watch - awe-struck and speechless - as your overfilled pussy gushes all around him.
And shit neither of you can even begin to think of what a bitch it’ll be to clean out this couch later on. Too caught up in the way you’re soaking Nanami’s merciless cock in that sinful mix of cum and slick. Thick, and hot, drooling down the side of your puffy folds.
“See? Enough space, no?”
You raise your eyes, teary and hazy with lust, up to meet Nanami’s darkened ones and oh-
You weren’t going to make it out alive.
Especially not when he leans down, whispering so raggedly in your ear, “Now I get to give ya another week’s worth more, right?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - 9 days
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
You didn’t know how it ended up this way. How that stupid bet about who’d be the needier one made Geto the one with the sex ban.
How he had you tied across from him so prettily on the bed, a bullet vibrator stuffed up your dripping cunt, unable to do anything but whine and watch as he spreads his bare, muscled thighs.
Tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching those panties wrapped around his throbbing cock. So angry and leaking all over his fist as one hand slides up, up, up. The other, fiddling with that tiny metal remote.
“You’re drooling, gorgeous. So desperate, huh?”
You know you aren’t - but you can’t help the way your face burns at your boyfriend’s low chuckle. Thighs squeezing together at the heavenly sight before you. “N-no fair, Sugu.” you whine. “I want to-”
Intensity setting 2.
But whatever words get stuck in your throat as Geto draws harsh, quick little circles on the intensity setting, smirking at the way you’re so wrecked already.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
“I-I want to-” he mocks your pathetic little whines, acting for all the life of him that they didn’t make his dick twitch so wildly in his hands. “My poor baby. S’not nice, right?” And if you were embarrassed before then it was absolutely nothing in comparison to when Geto knits his brows in mock concern, eyes locked on yours. Hand still moving down his cock, “But isn’t this what you wanted? With the sex ban? Isn’t this-” Hips bucking up to show off how sloppily he’s fucking his fist - and your panties along with it, “-what you were asking for?”
“No.” you’re tugging at the ties at your wrist, “I wanted…”
Intensity setting 3.
But oh it’s like Geto was well and fully intent on leaving you speechless - and succeeding at it too.
Because he immediately brings up your panties - flimsy and just so soaked - up to his face, breathing in so filthily. And as if he couldn’t help himself - as if he didn’t want to help himself - the remote falls out of Geto’s hand, “accidentally” locked on the highest setting, first wrapping around his cock to make a mess of himself.
“F-fuck-” he cracks one eye open, balls squeezing so painfully at the way you were almost in tears trying to get some semblance of friction. “Heh, looks like I’m winning the bet.”
You scoff, but it comes out so pathetically like a whine. “You’re a cheater, I’d have w-won this bet otherwise.”
Ah, how Geto loved your smart mouth - though, he probably loved it even more when you’re fucked dumb. But, right now, bet at the forefront of his mind, the next best thing he could do is shove those sinful panties into your mouth.
Hand flying up and down his cock faster and faster as you choke like such a slut on it. Greedily eyeing the way your lip wobbles, big fat tears welling up in your eyes, cunt all glistening and quivering as Geto blindly reaches behind to grab ahold of that remote again.
Intensity setting 4.
“And you’re too cute.” he drops his head, breath ghosting your lips. “So if you ask me nicely I might just-” Thumb playing around with the intensity, pressing down, hard. As if it would translate to your needy cunt, “-give you my cock, gorgeous.”
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
It’s all you can do to keen as his fingers get faster on the remote, other hand getting so sloppy on his painfully hard cock. Matching that sinful little ah! ah! ah! leaving your swollen lips. Sinful - and stubborn, still refusing to say those words that you knew Geto wanted to hear so badly.
“Awww, still not giving up?” At your delirious little headshake, “Then how about this?”
Intensity setting 5.
And shit it makes you arch off the bed entirely. It makes you let out a strangled yelp of, “Oh- fuck. Fuck fuck fuck Sugu, m’gonna-” It makes you cum.
“Tha’s it.” Geto can’t help but let go of his aching cock to draw rough, messy little circles on your clit. Grinning at the way you’re so pretty when you cum untouched - all for him. Over and over and- He reaches over to catch your lips with his, tongue dancing with yours, around your soaked panties.
So filthy and dizzying that he almost forgets about that bet - almost. Because you’re murmuring something so incoherent into his lips.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
God, doesn’t matter who wins next time - he needs to fucking do this again.
“What’s that?” he leans in tauntingly, pulling the fabric out of your mouth, finger still running circles around the intensity. Absolutely addicted to the way you’re twitching and whining at the aftershocks of your orgasm, “M’sorry, gorgeous, this vibrator is too loud. Speak up f’me, hm?”
“P-please fuck me, Sugu.”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - 21 hours
If Choso had it his way, then you’d both still be at home and he’d be balls-deep inside your sloppy pussy - fucking you over and over into the mattress until the neighbours file another noise complaint.
But, alas, Jin Itadori was sure to hire a hitman - or worse, Sukuna - on him if he missed another family dinner. Which is how it ended up with you, sat so prettily across the table from him, watching through his long lashes at the way that red dress hugged you so sinfully.
So right, in a way that made Choso almost jealous. So irresistibly, in a way that had Sukuna looking over a few too many times and-
Choso’s chair almost hits the floor with how fast he stands.
Fuck it.
“Sh-shit, Choso I-”
“Keep ah- that dress up, baby. Unless ya wanna get it d-dirty.” he’s panting into your open mouth, tongue so hotly toying with yours as he gives you another harsh thrust. “Though, I don’t ngh- mind.”
And he was telling the truth, too. Choso was in no way gentle with the way he had you sat on the bathroom counter, flimsy dress bunched up at your hips. Strong arms spreading your legs so shamefully while he bullied his cock into you with reckless abandon.
Over and over and-
“Cho!” you yelp, as he hits that one spot so expertly. Flashing you a fucked-out grin as how you’re scrambling to cover your mouth. “Th-they’ll hear.”
“So?”
And it’s all you can do to stop your jaw from falling slack once more - both in disbelief and at the way he’s fucking you so mean. So desperately like he hasn’t in months - years, even. Just unfocused, sloppy movements to milk his cock on your snug cunt.
“I don’t mind hah- that either.” Hand dipping underneath your soaked panties - just lazily pulled to the side - to roll your swollen clit between two fingers. “W-what I do mind is my oh- fuck girl holdin’ out on me and wearing that fucking dress on the s-same day.”
Oh you knew you were pushing the limits of your sex ban by wearing his favorite dress, that it would drive him absolutely wild. You just didn’t know it would be this easy.
“But you promised.” you’re letting out such broken little whines, muffled through your fingers, ones that go straight to Choso’s achingly hard cock. “You hngh- promised we wouldn’t at your family’s…”
The only response you get is Choso rolling his hips deeper into yours, so bruising in a way you knew would make you feel so guilty even when all the marks are covered up. Leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck in time with the way he alternates between hitting your poor, abused cervix and that one spot.
Gasping out a ragged, “I know- I know I know fuck- Hah- I know.” Words strained - like he was losing a bit of his sanity with each thrust. And needed you to be the same. “But shit, baby. Do you know how p-pretty you look right now? Hngh- how fuckable?”
“Y-you’re so fuckin’ dirty.” you mewl, as if you were any better. As if your gummy walls weren’t sucking the fuckin soul out of Choso right now. “Should’ve made the ngh- sex ban even long-”
He bites down at the soft crook of your neck, growling out a little, “Don’t even joke about that.”
And if Choso expected a response, then he didn’t act that way.
Hips just erratic against yours, fingers even worse. Not even moving in circles anymore, just messy, sloppy patterns to-
No.
You gasp at the realization, the deft movements of Choso’s fingers, and it just makes you all the more fucked-out underneath him. Scrambling to grab at the counter - Choso’s hair - his shoulders - just anything and everything to stop yourself from alerting the entire household to what you two were up to. Letting him fuck you like his favorite sextoy, fingers so so messy and spelling out a relentless little C-H-O-S-O-C-H-O-S-
And then you’re cumming and cumming so hard that it almost hurts. Stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your eyes. Choso’s massive cock fucking any and every thought of the dinner just downstairs out of your mind.
“F-fuck fuck fuck- ngh- we’re never coming back here for dinner again.”
And it’s all you can do to drag your nails down his broad back, leaving deep red marks that make his balls squeeze so painfully.
It makes him throw his head back, gasping out your name so loud. It makes him pull your hips so bruisingly against his.
It makes him cum, spilling thick, hot ropes of cum into your pussy. So messy with the way it’s too much to bear, dribbling down your swollen folds, forming a lewd little pool below you. And Choso doesn’t give a fuck - doesn’t care if he leaves marks that everyone will see. Or if that slutty dress of yours has a suspicious little damp patch as he swiftly pulls out to snap your panties back in place.
Whispering lowly against your lips, “K-keep it in till we leave, hm?”
“Cho-”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“The fuck? You brats fall in or something?”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 2 days
The great Ryomen Sukuna has always been terrifying - but never before has he been this ruthless. So utterly savage. Destroying every single curse he comes across in the blink of an eye - friend or foe, big or small.
Why? All because he hasn’t been able to fuck your pretty lil’ cunt in two days. Which, in his opinion, are two days too long. All because of some stupid little experiment about wanting to see how long it would take to see the king of curses crack.
And when those trembling curses heard about this ah- sex ban through the grapevine, well, they wrote it off as another baseless rumor. Ha, Ryomen Sukuna cracking? Never.
“Please…brat.” he bites down on your earlobe, further pushing up your expensive robes - ones he’d bought just to get on your good side - to sink his cock deeper inside your heavenly cunt. “There I said it. Now jus’ a bit more-”
And maybe you’re a mastermind - maybe you’re an idiot. Because you’re digging your heels into the mattress, pushing off ever-so-slightly from his aching hard cock. So thick and angry as it slips out of your sloppy hole.
You bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at a pissed off Sukuna, “I didn’t like your tone.” Crossing your legs to cover that view he was so fixated on, “Either you beg n’ start all over again or-”
“Fine.” he grits out the word, like it physically hurt to. Though, nothing for what falls from his lips next, “Please.”
“Louder.”
“Please.”
There you had it. And you can’t help but smirk, “Well, I liked that one-”
Nothing more is said - in Sukuna’s eyes, nothing more has to be said. Because he’s got his favorite lil’ human all needy and spread so shamefully in front of him, what more could he want? Sukuna grabs your ankles, pulling you to him like a ragdoll. Wasting no time before he’s splitting you apart on his rock-hard cock.
“Ya don’t hah- know how many curses I killed these past two days.” he kisses your ankles so softly. “How many I wanted to kill.”
And God, if you didn’t know any better you’d say it’s like he wanted to kill you with the way Sukuna barely even gives you time to adjust. Stuffing you full of his cock, so hot and thumping against your gummy walls in a maddening little bump! bump! bump!
Letting out a strangled moan of, “There you go.” Brows scrunching together, looking wrecked already as he rocks his hips into yours - fast. Hard. hands coming up underneath your ass to arch you deeper into him, “Squeezin’ me so- tight. Heh, almost ”
“Oh hngh- ‘Kuna!” you moan, eyes snapping down to the way your cunt was taking him up so good. Puffy folds bulging around his massive cock, looking like they were sucking the fucking soul out of Sukuna as his massive cock disappears in and out in and out in and- “S’too- much-”
“Shut up.” he drops his head, one hand so bruising all over your body - groping your ass, your tits, playing with your throbbing clit. “Ya wanted hah- me to talk, right? And I say-” The other, squeezing your cheeks together into a pathetic lil’ pout, “Open up.”
It’s so embarrassing the way you can’t do anything but let your mouth fall open so sluttily, tongue lolling out just in time to catch the stream of saliva as Sukuna spits once. Twice.
So filthy with the way he lets it splatter against the corner of your mouth - on purpose.
“Wanted the king to beg, huh?” Each word is punctuated by such a harsh thrust, twitching balls stinging against your ass. “Well you got it. H-how does it feel, huh?”
And you couldn’t speak up even if you wanted to. Sukuna’s hand too tight around your face, cock too merciless. Slamming his hips down faster and faster as he runs his mouth, like he was taking revenge for the last two days. Again. And again. And again and again-
Grinning at your delirious little gurgles, “Heh, what? Can’t talk?”
And as if to prove his point, Sukuna loops two big arms around your waist, falling back on his knees with you sat like such a slut on his cock. Fingers lacing above your head to sink you impossibly deeper and deeper-
“Oh my god- K-” Your breath hitches as he fucks up into you so easily. Feeling more and more like some plaything with each ripple of his muscles underneath your legs. So hard you were sure it would leave marks - both confirming and condemning those rumors you knew have been flying around. His balls on your ass, thighs underneath yours, nails dragging lightly down your skin.
Resting on your waist, holding your quivering hips still as he grunts, “Now shut up. M’gonna get my fill of the last two days.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - 4 hours
To the great Gojo Satoru, this droning, 4-hour meeting with the elders was a nightmare. To you, it was exactly where you wanted him
It wasn’t often that the strongest was tense - jittery, even, like he was about to jump out of his seat at any given moment. But, really, it was almost impossible not to, considering that stern talking-to you’d given him about “no sneaking out during meetings.” Especially when you’re sat across from him looking so beautifully unbothered.
Your smile too pretty, your uniform unbuttoned just enough that it gave him such a heavenly view when you bent over just so.
Oh, how Gojo wishes he could just-
And that was when he felt it.
That slow, slight touch up his inner thigh - so fleeting and light that he almost thinks he’s imagining it. But, no, Gojo could never mistake any touch from you.
It sends his entire skin burning to catch your eye ever-so-briefly from across the table. A tiny smirk gracing those pretty lips as your heel inches up, up, up-
“Gojo, do you have anything to comment on the recent increase in curse sightings?”
He stifles a groan underneath one palm, the other snaking under the table just in time to catch your ankle before you can carefully slip away. “I think…” he manages to grit out, heady gaze flitting over to yours, “-that is a question my lovely wife and I must discuss first.”
Oh?
And then, your back is hitting a plush mattress before you know it - long before the realization hits you that this bastard just fucking teleported the two of you to your bedroom.
“T-Toru-” you sputter out, whatever reprimand getting stuck in your throat at how desperate Gojo was acting. Your uniform buttons hitting the floor as he rips open your shirt, hands bunching up your skirt, only having enough patience to just pull aside your soaked panties, rolling your pretty clit between two fingers. Needy. “The meeting-”
“The meeting isn’t here now, right?”
Words so hoarse it takes you a moment to recognize it as your husband’s. You were only beginning to wonder just what the fuck you’ve gotten yourself into when Gojo tugs down his pants just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free.
And oh then it makes sense. Because Gojo was so hard that it looked painful - so so red, and angry. Soaked in enough precum that it made a damp little patch on his trousers, heavy balls twitching at the mere sound of your voice.
“D-didn’t I say no sneaking out this time, Toru?” You buck into his touch, despite your words, eyes locked on the way Gojo stops toying with your clit to pool your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips.
“You did.” Raising his long, glossy fingers to those pretty pink lips, “But this is teleporting, not sneaking out, sweetheart.”
Gojo’s like a man possessed as he pops your slick-covered fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sinful taste.
Gasping out a wet, “Fuck the ban. Can’t go without ya. Can’t-” One hand sliding his fat tip between your swollen folds, up and down up and down - spreading them apart, just barely dipping into your sloppy entrance. “-can’t live without this pretty cunt.”
And then it’s like something snaps - Gojo’s patience, his sanity, the last of his restraint as he sinks his throbbing cock into your plushy walls.
Pushing past that first, tight ring of muscle, and at the first feeling of your gummy walls milking his cock, he pants out a strained, “Fuck- oh fuck fuck fuck, yer the stuff of dreams, my girl. This cunt- ngh-” Pushing your legs further apart, fingers back on your clit “-would’ve fucked this cunt right in ah- front of those old toads. But, you’re lucky I’m a jealous man.”
“Oh- oh my god, s’too- too- big!”
God, you needed to spread your legs more - as if they weren’t being folded apart so easily by a delirious Gojo - maybe breathe, try to relax because Gojo was so big. And so unforgiving.
Feeling like he was pushing all the way into your lungs as he thrusts in quick, shallow little thrusts to bully himself inside your snug cunt. Jagged - like he was fighting with some absolutely, depraved, feral part of himself.
You can feel the way your hips are torn between pushing away and grinding back down for more more more- And Gojo can, too.
“No-” he hisses. Brows scrunching in frustration, hips becoming more and more sloppy - frenzied. “No no no no no- hold on, sweetheart. Need this, need this so bad.”
Going faster.
Deeper.
You sob, ankles locking around his slutty waist. “B-but Toru-” You make a feeble last attempt at regaining your sanity. Your entire body jolting as Gojo presses so hard on your clit. “-we should ngh- hurry up. W-we’ll be late to the meeting-”
But does it really matter? Gojo doesn’t think so, not when he finally bottoms out in one, rough thrust. Groaning as his sensitive balls smack your ass.
Your cunt so slutty and tight - sucking him up so good despite your cute lil’ pleas about something stupid like “responsibilities”.
So he really can’t help the way he wastes no time before reeling his hips back - all the way till his weeping tip is just kissing your sloppy hole. Before fucking into you completely - rough. Unrestrained. The same way he imagined taking you on that meeting room table. Over and over and-
“Not yet.” he grins against your lips, “We’re not done discussing the recent increase in curse sightings.”
A/N. Gojo’s came out toooo long I don’t even like this man fr (loud incorrect buzzer).
Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#nanami x reader smut#choso x reader smut#geto x reader smut
18K notes
·
View notes
Text
You decide to sleep on the couch after an argument
love and deepspace
characters: Zayne, Sylus (pt2 with Rafayel and Xavier here)
note: they might be a little mischaracterized so bear with me.
Zayne
Usually, arguments with Zayne don’t get this heated. There was no yelling, not on his part at least, but he could be really cold with his words when he wanted to be. Not that you were any better. Some things you said hurt him to no end. So you came up with a decision - to sleep on a couch tonight. To be honest, it was more because to be petty, than not wanting to spend a night beside him. You gathered your pillow and blanket and got comfortable on the couch, which made Zayne sigh out loud when he entered the room.
“What is this?”
You turned your back to him as an answer. Another sigh comes out of his mouth. He’s exhausted, physically and emotionally, and you acting like a brat doesn’t ease anything at all.
“I know you’re mad, dear but is this necessary?”
No answer.
“Alright”
He left the room and before you could convince yourself that you didn’t care he was back with a blanket of his own and took a seat in an armchair. You turn your head towards him in confusion.
“What are you doing?”
“I guess we’re not sleeping in bed tonight”
“I’m not. You can go”
“I believe I didn’t stutter”
You scoffed and turned around again.
“suit yourself”
Minutes pass and sleep doesn’t come to you. Whether it’s because of an uncomfortable couch or an absence of his arms around you is hard to say, but after turning around thousands of times and still not being able to sleep is frustrating.
Finally, Zayne had enough of watching your struggle.
“How about we go to bed?”
“No” came your response after a second of hesitation. With a small amused smile on his face, he hovered over the couch.
“What do you say… I take you to bed and you can curse me out for it tomorrow?”
You shifted a little but didn’t answer, which made his smile widen. He gathered you in his arms and your lack of objection was all he needed to take you to your room and tucking you in bed. Even though you seemed to warm up he didn’t know how far he could push you, so kneeling beside the bed to be on your eye level he started:
“If you still need space I can-”
“Stay”
He smiled at you tucking your hair behind your ear.
“Okay”
He got up and kissed your forehead before slipping in beside you and pulling you closer.
"I'm sorry..." you mutter
"Shh, we'll talk about it tomorrow... but I'm sorry too"
You smile a little. You two will sort this out tomorrow.
Sylus
What Sylus says, goes around. His word is the law. This is what he’s used to. That's how it's always been.
Then you came into his life and even though he’s still in charge of how things go in the N109 zone, you just need to say the word and everything will be how you like it. No questions, no hesitation. He would give you the world if you so much as whispered the need. Whatever you want, whatever you need, he will make it happen.
Unless, when it comes to your safety. Now don’t get me wrong. Sylus knows you can defend yourself and then some. But when it comes to the N109 zone, there are things Sylus knows better than you. Additionally, The fact that you can be reckless in your battles does nothing to help ease his worries.
That was the reason for the heated argument tonight. Sylus with his harsh words and snarky remarks always finds a way to infuriate you. So you two go on and on for half an hour now and none of you seems to back down. You storm off to your room and take your things to get comfortable on the couch. However, on your way out Sylus blocks your way. He raises an eyebrow at the blanket and pillow in your arms.
“Now, what exactly do you think you are doing, sweetie?”
“move”
“I asked you a question”
“I’m not sleeping beside you- Sylus” you exclaim as he hoists you over his shoulder. you punch and scratch his back but to no avail.
“Careful with your claws, kitten”
He drops you on the bed climbing over you.
“Now listen, this is what will happen. You will stop acting like a wild kitten and sleep beside me. I am sorry for hurting you but we will discuss it tomorrow, when we are both a lot calmer. Understood?”
You don’t want to give in so easily. You also don’t want to sleep without him tonight. So you nod avoiding eye contact. He, however, doesn’t accept it and raises your chin with his finger to make you look at him.
“Use your words, sweetie”
“Yes”
“Splendid” He removed himself from you so you could get under the blanket. He laid beside you and pulled you closer so your head was resting on his chest.
"Sy... I'm sorry too"
"So I'm Sy now?"
This man.
"Nevermind, you're still a prick"
You try to remove his arm but he holds you tighter as he laughs.
"Alright, alright. I'm sorry, sweetie"
You felt him kiss the crown of your head as he caressed your shoulder with his thumb. you return to your previous position and listening to his heartbeat, sleep lured you in soon enough.
#love and deepspace#lnds zayne#lnds sylus#zayne x reader#sylus#sylus x reader#lnds#zayne love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#sylus x mc#sylusposting#love and deepspace zayne#lads zayne
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
♡ 05: i bet we'd have really good—
series m.list // taglist
note: wowie,, thank u for 1.5k and for being so patient 💛 i’m so happy to be ending this mini fic and to have been interacting with u all :) my apologies if this ch sucks LOL i'm so sick rn but i'm tired of rewriting n writing... so enj !!! it's been so fun and i can't wait for more fics to come in 2025 !!! kisses my kitties😽💓
⏱️ this part goes thru time skips!
💭 which bed chem jk moment was ur fave?
warnings: tension/slow burn (friends first yk),, mean!jk trying to figure out how to be nicer to oc,, jk calls oc baby and kitty !!! teasing/dry humping (bc jk has glasses on. jk plays with her titties/nipples & jk cums thru his sweatpants),, jealousy (v teeny tiny),, virginity talk/actual sex; oc loses her virginity to jk (jk eats her out/fingers her, ass slapping, dirty talk, rawdogging,, missionary, doggy, blowjob/headpushing & face cumshot)
//
it’s been a week since jungkook kissed you, and he has made it your problem.
truth be told, he has made a game of this—hovering without hovering… just close enough to test the line. whatever way he plays, jungkook is always shameless in the most subtle and maddening ways.
sometimes his hand brushes yours as you walk, light and fleeting… and it’s impossible not to notice the way his fingers twitch. it’s like he’s debating whether to grab it or not.
you don’t make it any easier on yourself, either.
there’s this suffocating tension between you two and some days are better than others… like today.
“why are you so quiet?” you ask, glancing at him over your shoulder.
he tilts his head, feigning confusion.
“why? does the silence make your heart race?”
you scoff, rolling your eyes, and that’s when he strikes—his foot nudging yours mid-step. it’s just enough to throw you off balance, making you stumble slightly, your bag slipping again.
“jungkook!”
he’s already reaching out, catching the strap before it can fall.
“careful,” he says, his voice all mock concern, but the way his lips twitch gives him away.
you glare at him, yanking your bag out of his grip.
“you’re the one who tripped me.”
“prove it."
"seriously?"
"if you can't prove it... you have to kiss me. you know, as compensation for accusing me so unjustly." he says, wide-eyed and innocent, though the corners of his mouth are curling into a smirk.
it’s infuriating, but it’s also... not.
not when he’s looking at you like that, like he knows exactly how to get under your skin and is thoroughly enjoying it.
“do friends kiss?” you narrow your gaze at him. “do friends trip each other over? do friends—“
“do friends wait for each other?” jungkook leans towards you. “mhmm? do friends have ulterior motives—”
“you have ulterior motives?”
“oh, absolutely.”
friendship.
it’s odd to say the least—the way you and jungkook have fallen into this friendship. that’s what you’ve both agreed on.
friends.
but the lines are blurry.
so blurry they might as well not exist at all… because what kind of friends kiss on the cheek as casually as saying hello? what kind of friends text each other goodnight every single evening, or linger too long in conversations that could end with a simple goodbye?
the rules of your agreement feel more like suggestions—ones jungkook seems intent on bending just enough to keep you guessing. and you let him, which might be the strangest part of all.
… because deep down, you know this isn’t just friendship. not with the way he looks at you, his gaze lingering a second too long, or the way his touch always feels like a question he’s waiting for you to answer.
but maybe that’s the thing about blurry lines—they give you just enough room to pretend you don’t already know where you’re headed.
yet, even with all his teasing, there’s a hesitancy to him sometimes—a split-second pause when your hands brush, a quiet shift in his expression when he catches you looking at him. it’s like he’s still figuring out how to balance whatever this is between you, testing the waters but not wanting to dive in too fast.
and honestly?
you feel the same.
it’s why you let him get away with stuff like this. why you don’t pull away when his hand accidentally-on-purpose brushes yours for the third time in as many minutes. why you don’t tell him to stop following you to your study spot or showing up outside your class with some excuse about “just being in the area.”
because the truth is, you like having him around.
you like the way he keeps you on your toes… even if it’s by trying to trip you up, only to catch you before you fall.
and maybe—just maybe—you like the way his smile softens sometimes when he thinks you’re not looking.
tonight, the group decides on a night out.
the street food spot everyone agreed on is already buzzing when you get there, the warm glow of string lights crisscrossing above the narrow alleyways, casting soft shadows on the busy stalls below. the air is alive with the scent of sizzling tteokbokki and freshly steamed hotteok, mingling with bursts of laughter and the occasional pop of oil from a nearby grill.
you arrive late as usual.
by the time you weave your way through the crowd, the others have scattered, splitting up to hunt down whatever caught their eye.
that’s when you spot him.
jungkook leans lazily against a lamppost near the edge of the main street, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding a stick of half-eaten odeng. the glow from the lights above reflects faintly in his dark eyes, making them look warmer than usual, though his expression stays comfortably neutral—like he’s been waiting.
but he doesn’t mind.
“you’re late,” he says as you approach, not even bothering to straighten up. his voice is low, unbothered, but there’s something teasing in the way his lips twitch into the barest hint of a smirk.
“i’m literally 5 minutes late.”
“still late.”
jungkook takes one last bite of the fish cake before tossing the stick into a nearby bin. he steps closer, casual but deliberate, and before you can come up with a snappy reply, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your cheek.
it’s smooth—too smooth.
it’s like he’s been doing it forever.
you barely have time to register the warmth blooming in your chest before he’s grabbing your hands, shoving them unceremoniously into the front pocket of his hoodie along with his own.
“jungkook—”
“your hands looked cold,” he says simply, his tone light, like this is the most natural thing in the world.
his fingers shift slightly, brushing against yours, and though his expression stays neutral, you catch the subtle curve of his mouth—the smug kind he tries to hide but never quite manages.
you roll your eyes, more out of habit than anything else, and let out a sigh...
but you don’t pull away.
“i have gloves.”
“they're ugly."
you glare at him.
"... and you have me."
the air stills.
“what?” he asks, his shoulder bumping yours as he starts walking, steering you toward the first row of stalls.
“nothing.”
but the corner of your mouth twitches. you try to hold back your smile.
he catches it, of course.
his grin widens, soft and slow.
jungkook nudges you again, this time with more intention. you can feel the warmth of his hand through the fabric, steady and sure, even as the cold night air bites at your skin.
you can't help but give in. a laugh escapes your lips as you nudge him back. jungkook laughs too, but pulls you close at the very last second.
he breathes you in.
the first stall serves fresh tteokbokki, steaming and spicy. the scent alone makes your stomach growl, but jungkook is already a step ahead, paying for the food before you can reach for your wallet.
“you didn’t have to do that,” you say, trying to grab a pair of chopsticks from the tray.
he beats you to it, of course, picking up a piece of tteokbokki with the kind of exaggerated precision that makes you squint at him. then, he places the chopsticks in between your fingers.
“feed me," he says.
“absolutely not."
he steps closer.
“okay, fine. i’ll feed you—”
you shove the tteok in his mouth.
he chews, chuckling and enjoying your choice.
“you’re so annoying,” you tell him as he swallows.
“really? am i?”
“really. you are."
jungkook shrugs.
then, he takes the chopsticks and picks up a tteok, and feeds you. he watches closely as you chew, his wide eyes fixed on your face in a way that makes you feel exposed.
“how annoying?”
in between chews, you fixate on his smirk. as he leans into level with you, you almost choke at how his nose nearly brushed yours. you can feel the weight of his gaze, daring you to say something.
“jungkook…” you warn, your voice flat, but your hands betray you. they reach up to cup his cheeks, and though your intention is to shove him back, you don’t.
instead, your thumbs press lightly against the soft skin of his jaw as you squint at him.
“what’s this smile?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. “what are you so excited over, bestie?”
his expression flickers for a second, his brows twitching in annoyance at the word. you know he hates it when you call him that. bestie? who are you even talking to?
“your lips look cold. can i warm them up for you?” he asks suddenly, his voice dropping low enough to send shivers down your spine.
you scoff, warmth creeping up your neck. “nice try—”
“no, no, i insist,” he interrupts, tilting his head slightly, pretending to think it over. “don't want you to be all cold and shit.”
“jungkook.” your tone is sharp, but it’s laced with amusement, and he knows it.
“what?” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his lips curving into a smirk. “you said you want to take things slow. i’ll kiss you real slow—”
your jaw drops.
“you’re impossible.”
he stands back up with a grin, his hands still in the pocket of his hoodie, keeping yours snugly tucked inside. he rocks back on his heels, clearly pleased with himself.
“let’s not pretend we don’t know what we know.”
“i don’t know much,” you retort, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “i’m not a nerd—”
“yah! hurry up!” taehyung’s voice booms from a stall across the street, breaking the moment. you glance over to find him waving dramatically, his other arm slung around yoongi, who looks less than thrilled.
“we found the mandu!” taehyung adds.
“mandu sounds good,” jungkook says as he gives your hands a small squeeze. then, he gently pulls you toward the others. "let's go."
“stop dragging me around,” you complain, though you don’t actually try to pull away.
“you’re walking too slow.”
but you aren’t.
you know you aren’t and so does he… but you let him hold your hand anyway.
a week later, jungkook feels like he might piss himself.
he leans against the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone for the 5th time in as many minutes. his thumb hovers over the screen, debating whether to check his messages again, even though he knows there’s no point.
you haven’t replied yet.
the fundraiser for marine conservation is tonight, and he’s been pretending it’s no big deal... but fuck.
he was so nervous when he asked you to go with him and now he feels like all his efforts are being wasted.
...
“so, uh,” he starts, his voice a little too casual, “there’s this fundraiser gala thing on friday night. save the dolphins thing—a-and… it’s no big deal but—”
you glance at him, eyebrows raised.
“yeah? sounds fancy.”
he shrugs, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “i guess it is. it’s a black-tie kind of event… and i, uh… i was thinking... maybe you’d want to come with me?”
you blink, caught off guard by the sudden invite.
“i hate dolphins.”
“i know.”
you sigh, pretending to be burdened by his request. “but i’ll go. if you want me to.”
“i do want you to.”
“okay.”
“good,” he breathes, glancing over with a lopsided grin that he hopes hides how nervous he actually feels. “you’ll make me look good. people are suckers for pretty dates.”
“oh, so you’re using me as a prop?” you tease, though your lips twitch into a smirk.
“obviously,” he replies smoothly, though his grip on the wheel tightens slightly. “but, hey, it’s a dinner, you get to see my in a tux which is practically dessert—.”
you shake your head, laughing softly.
“you’re ridiculous.”
“so ridiculous that this can count as our first date?” he presses, glancing over again, this time with a flicker of uncertainty he hopes you don’t catch.
after a beat, you sigh dramatically, turning in your seat to face him.
“it’s a date.”
just as he’s about to make another comment, you lean over and press a quick kiss to his cheek, catching him completely off guard. his hands freeze on the wheel for half a second before he recovers.
“you missed—”
you laugh and hit his chest. then, he gets out of the car, helps you out, and walks you to your doorstep.
...
now, as he sits alone in his room, the anticipation bubbling just under his skin, his phone buzzes on the counter. his heart skips for a moment before he grabs it, only to feel it sink as he reads your message.
yn [4:31PM]: nurse said it’s food poisoning yn [4:32PM]: she gave me some meds to help but i literally feel like shit yn [4:33PM]: i don’t think i’ll be able to make it tonight, baby :( i’m so sorry nerd [4:34PM]: don’t apologize. i’ll be over in a bit yn [4:35PM]: what ?? no !! get ready for your event. it’s important nerd [4:35PM]: so are u yn [4:36PM]: i’ll survive. go save the dolphins :p
his brows knit together as he reads it again, leaning back into the couch with a frustrated sigh.
he knows he shouldn’t feel disappointed—you can’t control being sick, and it’s not like this event means anything special.
at least, that’s what he’s been telling himself.
still, he stares at the message for a long moment, debating whether to reply right away or wait a few minutes so he doesn’t seem too eager. his fingers hover over the keyboard before he finally types out a response, keeping it short and light, like he’s unbothered.
nerd [4:40PM]: get some rest. i’ll be telling everyone you ditched me tho yn [4:41PM]: be sure to let the dolphins know too 🙂
he lets out a chuckle, but the weight in his chest doesn’t go away.
he tosses his phone onto the coffee table and rakes a hand through his hair, wondering why the idea of showing up without you feels so much worse than he’d expected.
then, his phone buzzes with messages from the fundraiser committee.
yet, he can only think of you… it’s a sinking feeling in his chest.
you’re sick.
the thought of going to that event while you’re home feeling miserable doesn’t sit right with him.
he sighs, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it over his head. he knows this is unprofessional and such an pussy excuse but—forget the event.
it’s you that matters to him the most right now.
so, jungkook calls his event and lets them know that something came up. he tosses aside his tux and puts on comfier clothes before heading to the kitchen to make you some chicken noodle soup.
before he heads out, jungkook hears a familiar groan from the living room. he turns, already annoyed, knowing exactly who it is.
jimin and taehyung are stretched out on the couch, looking like they’ve been hit by a truck.
their faces are pale, eyes glassy with fever, and they groan as they shift under the blanket. it’s obvious they’re just as sick as you, if not worse.
“yo, jungkook,” taehyung calls out, voice nasally, “did you make soup? be a good boy and give us some—”
jimin, equally pitiful, sits up a little and gives jungkook a pleading look. “yeah, we’re starving, man. plus, you’re not gonna leave us to die alone, right?”
jungkook raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.
“you won’t die from starvation.”
“how are you so sure?”
“cos i’ll kill you first,” jungkook snorts. “you guys got my girl sick with that stupid omelet you made her.”
the two of them groan in response, sitting up slowly. taehyung rubs his face with his hand. “we didn’t mean to! bro, look at us. you think we wanted this? we’re sick, too, you know.”
“yeah,” jimin adds, “there’s two friends sick here for you to take care of.”
jungkook just looks at them, his gaze hard.
“who do you think i’m gonna choose right now?”
jimin squints, looking him up and down. “don’t you have that gala tonight?”
jungkook hesitates for a split second, but quickly shakes his head, giving them a dismissive wave.
“it got canceled.” he lies.
then, he turns away to head out the door. before he leaves he yells; “i’ll text yoongi hyung to make you some soup. don’t bother me. not coming home tonight.”
about 25 minutes later, jungkook stands in front of your doorway and his gaze falls on you as you open the door.
you're wearing his oversized t-shirt, hair up in a messy bun, and a pair of shorts—looking exhausted and a little pale. his stomach churns with worry, but he keeps his cool as always.
"what are you doing here? the gala..." you trail off, but before he can answer, you quickly turn and rush to the bathroom.
"shit," he mutters under his breath, following you at a steady pace.
when he enters the bathroom, you're already kneeling over the toilet, retching. his heart drops, but he doesn’t flinch. moving to your side, he gently pats your back.
“it was this bad?” he grumbles, a frown pulling at his lips. “why were you downplaying it through text?”
you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, barely acknowledging him.
“i’m fine, seriously. just... just a little nausea.”
“fuck, ___..” he snaps, but his voice isn’t angry, more like exasperated. "this is stupid. you can’t be alone if you can’t even handle standing up to get the door without throwing up. are you fucking serious?." his eyes are narrowing now, the concern clear despite his snappy tone. “what the hell, ___?"
you sit back on the floor, leaning against the wall, your face pale.
“i already bailed on the date. i couldn’t let you bail on the gala entirely.”
he shoots you a look, incredulous.
“you think I’d rather be at a gala without you? honestly?”
“i just—"
“shut up,” he interrupts, his voice softer but firm. "you need someone. i’m here. deal with it."
there’s no room for argument in his voice.
you give him a tired smile despite the situation, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
“you shouldn’t be here, though.”
“say that again.”
your lips tighten.
then, you gag and rush back to the toilet bowl. jungkook remains by your side, rubbing your back as you deal with another wave of nausea.
the moment is quiet except for the soft sounds of you breathing in between. for a second, it almost feels like everything has stopped, like it’s just the two of you in your small bathroom, nothing else in the world mattering.
after 40 minutes of hovering over the toilet, jungkook gets you settled on the couch.
he brings you water and asks if you’re down for some food. he brought over chicken noodle soup and you need to have something in your stomach before taking your medicine. you simply agree and wait for him to serve you.
as you eat the soup, he scrolls through netflix and plays something. he talks for most of it and it helps distract you from feeling the full extent of your sickness. after you’ve eaten some of the soup he brought, you ask him to grab the medicine from your bag.
“can you grab the other medicine bottle from my bag? the one the nurse gave me?”
jungkook, of course, doesn’t hesitate.
he gets up and finds your bag in your bedroom. he pulls open your bag and begins rummaging through it, looking for the bottle. when his hand brushes against something thick and solid, he pulls out a book titled, “everything you need to know about dolphins a to z.”
his eyebrows furrow for a second as he stares down at it.
he doesn’t know why, but a strange warmth spreads through him. it’s pretty obvious why you have this book—but seeing it in your bag... it makes him pause.
his lips tighten slightly as he puts the book back down in your bag, quickly hiding his reaction. he doesn’t want you to see how much it’s affecting him right now.
when he returns with the medicine, his expression’s back to its usual, nonchalant self. as much as jungkook wants to pretend like he didn’t see it or that seeing it didn’t matter—he can’t.
to him, it mattered.
it mattered a lot.
a few days later, you’re sitting across from jungkook in the library.
the late afternoon sun streaming through the tall windows and casting a golden glow over the table. textbooks and notebooks are scattered between you, his handwriting messier than yours but still oddly charming. you’re mid-sentence, asking him about his opinion on a the newest theory you learned during your lecture when he suddenly tugs off his crewneck, revealing the black t-shirt clinging to his frame underneath.
it’s warm in the library, the kind of cozy heat that sneaks up on you, and he doesn’t think twice about it.
but you do.
“woah—” you blurt out, your question forgotten as your gaze catches on his arms. you've seen his tattoos before but for some reason... they look different to you now.
they appeal different to you.
jungkook looks up from his notes, brows raised.
“what?”
you blink, trying to refocus, but your eyes betray you, flickering back to the ink winding its way down his arm.
“your tattoos,” you say, almost dazed. “they’re... really hot.”
“think so?”
“yeah,” you admit. “gets me horny. ”
you then feel the warmth crawl up your neck as the words leave your mouth. you quickly look back down at your notes, hoping the earth might just swallow you whole.
jungkook freezes for a moment, the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of pink. then he shakes his head, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. it’s not his usual confident grin—it’s softer, like he’s caught off guard but not in a bad way.
he doesn’t say anything, just ducks his head slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching like he’s trying to hold back a laugh.
you try to ignore the way he shifts in his seat, casually stretching his arms behind his head like he’s showing off—not that he’d ever admit it...
for the next two weeks, jungkook suddenly seems allergic to long sleeves.
he starts showing up in short-sleeved t-shirts, rolling his sleeves higher than necessary when he wears his uniform jacket, and leaning in just a little closer when he knows your gaze will drift.
“you’re shameless,” you mumble one day, catching him flexing—not subtly—while reaching for a book on the top shelf.
“what?” he asks innocently, glancing down at you with those wide eyes that don’t match the smirk tugging at his lips.
you roll your eyes, biting back a grin.
“you’re annoying.”
“why? are you horny?” he says, his voice low enough to make you want to shove him.
you don’t answer, but the way you avoid his gaze—and the small smile tugging at your lips—says enough. he notices, of course, because he always does.
after a few moments of silence, you huff at him.
"is everything you say always so... dirty?"
he shrugs.
"you brought up being horny first..."
"yeah, but—"
"you think i'm dirty?" jungkook interrupts you. "should i shower?"
you scoff at him. before you can say anything, he adds;
"you’d join me though, right?"
a month later, jungkook does it again.
you find yourself standing in the middle of your apartment—he shows up.
your phone is clutched tightly in your hand as you try to blink away the tears threatening to spill. the call you just had—a frustrating, heart-wrenching argument with your family—leaves you feeling raw and small. the weight of their words presses heavily on your chest, and all you can do is stare blankly at the mess of papers scattered on your desk.
a sharp knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts. you freeze, wiping at your cheeks hastily, but the door creaks open before you can say anything.
"is that my hoodie?"
"jungkook—"
“you haven't been answering my texts all day,” jungkook says, stepping in without waiting for an invitation. he’s holding a bag of takeout.
"everything okay?"
“i’m fine,” you say, your voice shaky despite your best efforts to sound convincing.
he narrows his eyes at you, placing the takeout and hoodie on your coffee table before crossing his arms.
“yeah, no.”
you try to argue, but he’s already moving, shrugging off his jacket and plopping onto the couch like he owns the place.
“whatever it is, you don’t have to talk about it right now,” he says, pulling out containers of food. “but you do have to eat. and i’m not leaving until you do.”
your throat tightens at his matter-of-fact tone, his presence somehow both comforting and overwhelming. he doesn’t pry, doesn’t demand to know what happened.
“you didn’t have to come,” you murmur, sinking onto the couch beside him.
“yeah, i did,” he replies, handing you a pair of chopsticks. “and don’t even think about pretending you’re not hungry.”
a small, shaky laugh escapes you, the tension in your chest loosening just a little.
“you’re so annoying.”
“friends are supposed to annoy each other. learned that shit from you.”
jungkook’s door swings open with a suddenness that startles him.
the faint squeak of the hinges cuts through the quiet. he’s mid-motion, towel slung around his neck, tugging a loose white shirt over his head when you stroll in without so much as a knock. he’s also wearing grey sweatpants…
wet hair, white shirt, and grey sweats?
the holy trinity.
“you know,” he begins to scold you. “boundaries exist for a reason.”
he shakes his damp hair as you plop onto his bed like it’s yours.
“boundaries?” you scoff, grabbing your plushie. your precious hello kitty plushie. “this is practically my second home.”
he doesn’t argue, just lets out a quiet chuckle as he pulls the hem of his shirt down.
holding up the plushie like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. “can i take her home today?”
“sure,” jungkook says, his voice carrying that infuriating mix of teasing confidence and barely veiled challenge. he leans against his desk, arms crossed, watching with a smirk as you clutch the hello kitty plushie tightly to your chest, as if it’s your only lifeline against his charm.
“can i be your boyfriend today?”
you groan, throwing yourself back onto his bed with a dramatic sigh, the plushie landing on your face.
“seriously? you’re really holding this poor plushie hostage?”
he laughs, low and amused, pushing off the desk and taking a few steps closer.
“a deal’s a deal,” he says lightly, but there’s a glint in his eyes as he towers over you. “you can take her home—when you’re my girl.”
you yank the plushie off your face, sitting up sharply.
“do you think we’re better friends?” you huff, your tone indignant but your heart racing under the weight of his gaze.
jungkook crouches slightly, leaning in until his face is just a few inches from yours. his smirk softens into something more playful, but the shift in proximity makes your stomach flip.
“i think so…” he murmurs, his eyes flickering between your face and the plushie pressed against your chest. “aside from me trying to kiss you every chance i get and you being horny every time you see my tattoos—”
you narrow your eyes at him, holding the plushie tighter, as if it’s a shield against the way he’s looking at you.
“you’re unbelievable.”
“and yet,” he starts, his voice dropping an octave as he moves even closer, one hand bracing on the bed beside your knee, the other reaching out to gently brush his fingers over the plushie’s soft fabric. “here you are.”
his free hand slides around your waist, tugging you just slightly toward him, and your breath hitches. “but if you don’t want her…” he teases, his voice trailing off as his face inches closer to yours. his gaze dips briefly to your lips, and before you can fully process it, he’s leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.
except you shove hello kitty between you two just in time.
“nope!” you say quickly, holding the plushie up like a barrier, your cheeks flaming as you hear him laugh, the sound vibrating through the air between you.
“seriously?” he says, pulling back just enough to raise an eyebrow, though his grin never falters. his hand stays firm at your waist, his thumb brushing the fabric of your shirt in slow, lazy circles. “you’re really using her to block me?”
“you started it,” you shoot back, glaring at him even as your grip on the plushie tightens.
“fair,” he admits with a chuckle, straightening up slightly but keeping his hold on you. his other hand moves to tap the plushie’s head. “but the deal still stands. not my girlfriend, not your hello kitty.”
“you’re ridiculous.”
he tilts his head, his grin softening, though his hand still lingers at your waist, his warmth impossible to ignore.
“i don’t know,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost coaxing. “sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”
you glare at him again, this time with less heat, and shove the plushie into his chest.
“you’re insufferable.”
he laughs, taking the plushie from your hands but not letting you go.
“maybe,” he says, “but you’re still here.”
hours later, the room is quiet except for the soft scratch of jungkook’s pen against paper and the occasional shuffle of his chair as he shifts at his desk. you’re curled up on his bed, the hello kitty plushie still clutched against your chest, your breaths slow and steady as sleep overtakes you.
he glances back at you every now and then, a small, unspoken fondness softening his features. when you stir, rubbing your eyes and sitting up, he turns back to his notes, feigning nonchalance.
you pad over to him, your steps muffled against the carpet. without a word, you slip onto his lap, one arm draping lazily over his shoulders as you pluck his glasses from his face.
“good nap?” he asks, his voice a mix of amusement and exasperation as you slide the frames onto your own nose. “those—”
squinting dramatically, you nag him; “ugh, how do you even function with these? everything’s blurry.”
“that’s because they’re prescription, genius,” he says, reaching for them, but you lean back, keeping them out of his reach.
“maybe i’ll keep these,” you tease, poking at the side of his head. “you can’t study without them, can you?”
“give them back, or i’m kicking you off my lap,” he warns, though his hands settle firmly on your waist instead of following through on his threat.
“yeah, sure... because you hate this so much.”
“try me,” he challenges, his grip tightening just slightly as if to prove his point.
“you’re so bossy,” you grumble, sliding the glasses off and placing them haphazardly on his desk. “happy now?”
“ecstatic,” he says dryly, though his lips twitch upward.
you lean closer, your face just inches from his, your playful smirk softening into something quieter, more genuine.
“you know, you’re really cute when you’re all serious, studious, and grumpy.”
“and you’re kind of annoying when you don’t let me finish studying,” he shoots back, though there’s no real bite to his words.
“fine, fine,” you say, preparing to climb off his lap with exaggerated dramatics. “go be a nerd. i’ll be over there cuddling hello kitty—”
“i could use a 5 minute break.”
you fix your posture, perking up.
“really?” you tilt your head at him. “i mean… i’d hate to distract you.”
“really?” he mocks you. “you’re sitting on my lap and moving your hips and yet—you’d hate to distract me, huh?”
you nod innocently. then, you shrug and confess;
“i’m bored.”
“what do you want me to do about that? this final is really important—f-fuck. ___, don’t move like that.”
you shift again.
“like what?”
“you know what you’re—”
“what am i doing?” you ask, leaning your body closer to his. you caress his face and pout at him. “is 5 minutes even considered a break? don’t you need more time?”
“more time for what?” jungkook lowers his gaze at you.
“i don’t know,” you giggle. “what do you wanna do?”
jungkook can’t take it.
playing cat and dog or whatever this bullshit is.
you’re on top of him, prettier than ever. you’re wearing a low-cut tank top with a fucking bow in the middle… and he can’t breathe anything in except you. what is he supposed to do right now?
“___… if you don’t get off me—”
“if i don’t get off you… what?”
you smile at him softly. shifting again, you drag your hips towards him. his eyes widen.
“i might cum.”
you pout. “really?”
jungkook swallows.
“keep moving your hips like that and you’ll find out soon.”
“oh…”
a beat.
“like this?”
before he knows it, you’re humping him.
he grunts as he feels himself harden under you. you bite your bottom lip as you drag your hips back and forth. you feel the pressure against your clit as your clothes rub together.
jungkook hisses at your pace.
“f-fuck..”
as he bucks his lips, he places his hands on your waist, helping your movement. you let out a few breathy moans and jungkook feels like he could die.
you’re so pretty.
his hands tighten around you when he senses that you’re close.
“am i doing this right? it feels—feels g-good.”
“yeah? feels good, baby?” jungkook breathes.
“mhmm…”
“do you feel my dick?” he asks. “feel how hard it is against your fucking pussy?”
“i do,” you moan. “so big, jungkook. can i take it soon?”
he hisses.
“promise me,” you whine. “promise me that you’ll fuck me soon.”
jungkook’s breath hitches.
he was wrong.
that time he ran his mouth about your virginity being too much or a burden or something—fuck was he wrong.
it’s not a burden.
it’s the greatest privilege he could ever be given… now to have you like this? begging like that? holy shit is he more than ready to give you anything and everything you want.
“promise, baby,” he says. “promise it’s gonna be me.”
you nod, happy with his answer.
and just as you’re about to continue, you take his hands to your tits. first, he squeezes them… then you guide them to the strap of your tank top. taking the cue, jungkook tugs your straps down, revealing your bare tits.
“___…” he moans. “shit.”
you bring his hands to your tits again, helping him cup them. as you hump him with more intensity, jungkook’s mouth parts. your tits bounce up and down and it sends shivers down his spine. your tits are so full in his hands and so fucking perfect up close. he loves all of it—the shape, the size, the way it feels… so soft. he’s always been an ass type of guy but holy shit—your tits are a game changer for him.
nevertheless, he tries to focuses on you.
“bouncy.”
“yeah?” you pant. “you like them?”
jungkook nods pathetically.
he fights shutting his eyes. he wants to remember all of this. every detail.
how hard he is right now. how hard your nipples are and how they feel being played in between his fingers. he runs his thumb around them, pressing, squeezing, and tugging… he loves how your moans sound—like they’re music to his ears… he can’t… he can’t picture anything else. he can’t hear anything else. he can’t breathe anything in but you.
“jungkook…” you cry, feeling yourself about to climax.
“s-shit,” he hisses as you begin to whimper.
the humping is great.
amazing in fact—but the way you’re whimpering right now?
fuck.
“jungkook,” you breathe, trying to catch your breath. “a-are you close? mhmmm… f-fuck!”
you hump him faster and harder. he lets out a few moans before sharply inhaling—
“o-ohh,” jungkook moans. “nghhhh… fuck.”
you grind on him slowly, easing his release. his crotch area is wet, making an obvious stain on his grey sweatpants.
he throws his head back. you lean over and kiss his neck. he bites his lip, attempting to hide his smile.
a silence fills the room.
you two are in total disbelief.
then, you shift and he places his hands on your waist again.
“did you cum?”
he lets out a chuckle. “yeah. did you?”
“i think so? i don’t know.”
“sorry,” he sighs, a little disappointed you didn’t get to finish. “do you wanna—”
“it’s fine that i didn’t come. i had fun…”
jungkook shakes his head. “no, it’s okay. i can—”
“can i see?”
jungkook blinks at you.
“what?”
“you came right?”
“yeah—”
“can i see what your cum looks like?”
some days with jungkook are so easy, it’s almost laughable.
the dynamic feels less like a friendship and more like a game you’re both playing—teasing, flirting, seeing how far you can push before one of you finally gives in.
but then there are days like this.
it’s been 3 month and a half since the kiss, and the comfort between you has grown in a way that makes everything feel light, almost effortless. you’re more yourself around him, and he’s let down his walls in ways you didn’t even realize were there.
still, sometimes, you push his buttons just a little too hard.
today is one of those days.
it starts with a series of texts.
your usual banter that, for whatever reason, strikes a nerve.
maybe he’s stressed, or maybe you’re just too good at knowing exactly how to get under his skin. either way, it doesn’t take long before his responses turn clipped, each word laced with an irritation you’re not used to seeing from him.
yn [1:41PM]: C₄₃H₆₆N₁₂O₁₂S₂ nerd [1:48PM]: 😳 yn [1:50PM]: am i speaking ur language nerd [1:53PM]: fluently, yes yn [1:54PM]: cool. dohwan taught me it yn [1:55PM]: what does it mean nerd [1:59PM]: not funny. yn [2:00PM]: why am i laughing then seen yn [2:01PM]: aw don’t get all mad nerd [2:08PM]: not mad. jus uninterested in this topic. yn [2:10PM]: i’m sorry seen yn [2:14PM]: sorry :( yn [2:15PM]: jungkook !!! yn [2:16PM]: wanna make out? typing… nerd [2:21PM]: yes
you don’t mean for it to escalate, but by the time you realize he’s genuinely annoyed, it’s too late to fix it over text. you bite your lip, staring at your phone, debating your next move.
and then, because you’re you, you grab your bag and head straight for his lab.
jungkook’s reputation precedes him on campus.
professors practically gloat about having him in their classes, like his achievements are trophies they get to display. it isn’t just his grades or his research—it’s the way he carries himself. sure, he's a little antisocial but he's focused, driven, and somehow still effortlessly cool.
you always knew he was smart, but seeing him in his element, tucked away in the chemistry lab during his solo hours, is something else entirely.
the lab is a world of its own.
notes scrawled in sharp, precise handwriting cover the workspace, surrounded by neatly labeled vials, bubbling solutions, and meticulous arrangements of equipment.
jungkook stands at the center of it all, wearing a crisp lab coat with the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the ink decorating his forearms. protective goggles perch on his nose, and his brows furrow as he scribbles something into a notebook. he’s intimidatingly focused, and for a moment, you hesitate in the doorway.
he notices the movement immediately, his sharp eyes snapping up to meet yours. for a beat, his expression doesn’t change, and your stomach churns with nerves under his scrutinizing gaze.
“what are you doing here?”
“i, uh…” you shift awkwardly, trying to find your footing under his intense stare. “i wanted to check on you. you seemed upset earlier.”
jungkook exhales, a hand dragging through his dark hair, slightly disheveling the strands sticking out under the goggles. his posture stiffens slightly before he stands straighter, folding his arms across his chest.
“i’m fine,” he says, the words clipped and automatic, like he’s said them a hundred times before.
he doesn’t look at you again after that, instead turning back to the dense notebook in front of him. his pen taps against the edge of the table, a sharp, rhythmic sound that fills the silence between you.
you glance around, taking in the scrawled notes and bubbling glassware, and suddenly, you feel like an intruder.
this isn’t just a workspace; it’s his domain, and you’re a trespasser.
“right,” you whisper. “sorry. i just—”
your words catch as his head snaps up again, this time really looking at you. his dark eyes flick to the way you stand there, hands shoved deep into your jacket pockets, shoulders hunched slightly, and chewing the inside of your cheek.
the tension in his jaw softens, and he exhales again, but this time, it’s quieter, almost resigned. his shoulders relax as he sets the pen down, giving you his full attention now.
“do you want a tour?” he asks, his voice losing some of its earlier sharpness.
you blink at him, caught off guard.
“really?”
he shrugs, a small, almost reluctant smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
“yeah. just… don’t touch anything.”
you hesitate, unsure if this is a genuine offer or just him humoring you. but the way his gaze lingers—softer now, like he’s extending an olive branch—makes you take a small step forward.
“you’re sure?” you ask cautiously, your weight shifting between your feet.
“wouldn’t have offered if i wasn’t,” he says, already turning to gather a few items from the cluttered table.
his words are casual, but there’s something unspoken in the way he says them. it’s as if he’s acknowledging your effort without outright saying it, inviting you into a space you know he doesn’t share lightly.
“okay,” you say softly, stepping closer as he gestures to the setup in front of him.
jungkook guides you through the lab, his hand casually finding its way to the small of your back as he gestures to the next setup. the touch is subtle but grounding, the heat of his palm against your waist sending a quick flutter of awareness through you. his fingers rest there, steady, as he moves you along with a quiet confidence, his focus more on the equipment than the way your heart picks up its pace.
“this is my catalytic synthesis project,” he starts, motioning to the crowded workspace. his tone is calmer now, almost instructional as if falling into the rhythm of explaining makes it easier to let his guard down.
as he starts detailing his work, his body language shifts. his shoulders loosen, and the furrow in his brow disappears as he picks up a flask of pale yellow liquid. his hand moves with precise confidence, holding it up to the light as if to showcase his work.
“what does that even mean?” you ask, leaning in closer to inspect the array of equipment.
“it’s about creating biodiesel,” he explains, holding up a sheet of paper covered in equations and diagrams. “basically, i’m optimizing the reaction process to make it more efficient. fewer byproducts, higher yield.”
you blink, squinting at the equations like they might magically make sense.
“that’s cool… i think. but how do you even do that?”
he chuckles, the sound low and surprisingly soft.
“this,” he says, holding the flask again. “this is the feedstock. it’s like the base oil we start with. i mix it with methanol and a catalyst—”
“wait,” you interrupt, raising a hand. “what’s a catalyst?”
his lips twitch into a small grin, clearly amused by your cluelessness.
“a catalyst is a substance that speeds up a chemical reaction without being consumed in the process.”
you nod as if you understand, but the tilt of your head gives you away.
jungkook sets the flask down and leans a hip against the table, crossing his arms loosely. “okay, think of it like this. imagine you’re cooking something. the catalyst is like the pan—it doesn’t get eaten, but it helps everything cook faster.”
“ohhh,” you say, the metaphor finally clicking. “why didn’t you just say that from the start?”
he raises an eyebrow, biting back a grin. “because i thought you were smart enough to keep up.”
“wow,” you deadpan, crossing your arms. “i come here to check on you, and this is the thanks i get?”
he shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping him as he nudges your shoulder lightly with his. “first of all, you annoyed me. second of all, you’re the one who wanted a tour. i’m just giving you the full experience.”
“oh, sorry—” you let out a shallow laugh. “should i leave then—”
jungkook shakes his head and points to another setup—a small beaker bubbling over a hot plate.
“look! this is the reaction in progress. that bubbling? that’s the methanol reacting with the oil. and over there,” he gestures to a series of tubes and a larger flask, “that’s where i separate the biodiesel from the glycerol. basically, the good stuff from the leftovers.”
you narrow your eyes at the apparatus. “this still sounds like you’re making moonshine.”
jungkook snorts, shaking his head. “i’m not making moonshine.”
“sure,” you mutter, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “that’s what someone making moonshine would say.”
he rolls his eyes, but the faint smile pulling at his lips betrays him.
“you’re really annoying today.”
“you like me, though,” you shoot back, leaning against the table with newfound confidence.
jungkook pauses, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment too long. his lips part, and you catch a flicker of something in his expression—something softer, almost vulnerable.
“yeah,” he says quietly, almost under his breath, before turning back to his work. “i guess i do.”
as you lean over a neighboring table to inspect a beaker filled with an ominous-looking solution, your elbow bumps against it, sending it teetering dangerously close to the edge. the moment stretches out, everything moving in slow motion.
his words catch you off guard.
what did he just say?
holy—
“shit!” you yelp, reaching out instinctively to steady it. but before you can, the beaker tips over completely, the sulfuric acid inside spilling onto the floor—and dangerously close to your feet.
jungkook moves faster than you expect, his hand darting out to grab your arm as he yanks you backward with enough force to make you stumble into his chest. the acid splashes onto his hand as it hits the ground, and the sharp crack of shattering glass fills the room.
he flinches, a quiet hiss slipping through his teeth as he pulls his hand back.
“oh my god, jungkook!” you gasp, panic knotting your stomach. his hand lingers briefly on your arm before he steps away, already moving toward the nearest sink.
“stay there,” he orders, his voice clipped but steady, as he flips on the cold water and thrusts his hand under the stream.
your eyes are locked on his injured hand, where faint discoloration is already starting to show.
“are you okay? does it hurt?” you ask, your voice shaky.
“it’s fine,” he says tightly, jaw clenched as the water rushes over his skin. “are you okay? nothing got on you, right?”
you take a step closer, your gaze flicking between his face and his hand. he looks calm—too calm—but the way his lips press into a thin line tells you otherwise.
“no. nothing got on me… jungkook,” you say softly, guilt and worry twisting in your chest. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—”
“don’t,” he cuts you off, shaking his head as he grabs a paper towel to dry his hand. his voice isn’t harsh, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s holding something back. “this is why i don’t give tours.”
you wince, the weight of his words making you shrink slightly. “i—i’ll make it up to you,” you blurt, your voice desperate to fix this. “whatever you want.”
he glances at you then, finally letting out a soft, exasperated laugh. his expression softens, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint smirk.
“you’re giving me that much power?”
“jungkook,” you warn, narrowing your eyes, but your voice wavers. you’re still too focused on his hand, your own tightening into fists at your sides. “this is serious. do you want to go to nurse or hospital or something—”
“relax baby,” he says, his tone lighter now as he flexes his fingers experimentally. “it’s not that bad. really. it was just sulfuric acid.”
“acid—”
“stop,” jungkook sighs. “seriously. it’s okay.”
“you shouldn’t have done that though,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
he shakes his head, smiling faintly—half amused, half surprised by your concern.
“what, and let you burn yourself instead?”
a beat.
"i'm dating a klutz," he chuckles, the words slipping out so naturally it takes you both a second to realize what he’s just said. his eyes widen slightly, but instead of backpedaling, "guess i should get used to you fucking my shit up, right?"
your chest tightens.
dating?
jungkook clears his throat.
“don't over think it," jungkook grumbles.
"jungkook—"
he doesn’t let you finish, his jaw tightening.
“___, what are you doing here if you don’t think we’re dating?”
“what does that even mean?” you fire back, crossing your arms defensively. “you can’t just say shit like that and expect me not to overthink it.”
“then maybe don’t think so much,” he mutters under his breath. "you're good at that anyway."
“don’t think?!” you huff incredulously, stepping closer. “jungkook, you’re impossible.”
he glares at you, setting down the equipment with a loud clink. “and you’re confusing. ___, you’re acting like—”
“acting like what?”
“like you don’t want this.”
the tension doesn’t ease as you both leave the lab.
he grabs his bag, muttering something about not wanting to talk here, and before you can argue, he’s already halfway down the corridor. you jog to keep up with his long strides, half-annoyed, half-confused, as he leads you across campus.
the walk is silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or the faint chatter of students in the distance. his jaw is tight, his shoulders stiff, and you can tell he’s barely holding himself together.
“jungkook...” you try, your voice softer this time, but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t even glance back.
by the time you reach his place, your confusion has morphed into frustration.
he unlocks the door without a word, stepping inside and leaving it open for you to follow.
you hesitate for a moment, then step in, the familiar scent of his space wrapping around you. before you can say anything, he drops his bag on the floor and turns to you, his expression unreadable.
“sit,” he orders, pointing to his bed.
your brows knit together.
“i’m not a dog,” you snap, but the weight in his tone makes you obey anyway. you sit at the edge of his bed, crossing your arms and glaring up at him.
he exhales sharply, running a hand through his already messy hair. his pacing starts then, a restless back-and-forth motion across the small room. the air feels heavy, thick with unspoken words and the lingering tension from earlier.
“okay,” he starts, his voice low and strained. “let’s just… get this out in the open.”
you raise a brow, waiting for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. instead, he keeps pacing, his hand dragging down his face as if he’s trying to physically pull the words out of himself.
“get what out in the open?” you prod, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “jungkook, what’s your deal? one second you’re fine, and the next—”
“fine?” he cuts you off, his tone sharper now. he stops pacing to face you, his hands planted on his hips. “you think i’m fine?”
you blink, taken aback.
“well, no, obviously not. but you’re also not making any sense—”
“you want to talk about making sense?” he scoffs, a bitter laugh escaping him. “you’re the one who’s impossible, you know that? one minute you’re here, acting like we’re—like this is something, and the next you’re…”
“the next i’m what?” you challenge, standing now. “go ahead, say it.”
jungkook looks at your sternly. then, he gives you his heart.
“i can’t keep doing this, ___. i need to know—are you in or are you out? because i get the whole wanting to make me miserable part. i get it. i’ve been awful to you. i’ve put words in your mouth and i’ve said shit that i can’t take back… but i’m trying. it feels like you aren’t.”
the weight of his words crashes over you, leaving you rooted in place. you want to respond, to say something, but the lump in your throat won’t budge.
he steps closer, his eyes searching yours.
“just… tell me what you want. because if you don’t want me, i need to know now.”
the silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating. you feel his gaze burning into you, his desperation palpable.
“i don’t know how to have you,” you say, your voice breaking slightly.
his shoulders drop, and for the first time since this started, he looks less angry and more… hurt.
“what do you mean?” he asks, his tone gentler now.
“i don’t know,” you breathe. “i’ve never… gone this far. guys give up after the chase… you’re… you’re still here. what happens now? sex?”
he shrugs. "is that all you want?"
"no."
"then no."
silence.
“___, i'm here. i've come this far and i want to go further. sex or not—whatever,” he says, taking another step closer, his hand reaching out to lightly brush against your arm. “is that what scares you?”
you nod.
“am i… am i supposed to just—” your chest tightens, and the room feels too small, too charged. his words hang in the air, and you know there’s no going back after this. “i don’t know—”
“why are you here, ___?”
“you asked me that already.” you retort.
“yeah, and you didn’t answer,” he shoots back.
you sigh, exasperated. “i’m here because—i don’t know… you’re my friend, okay? or whatever.”
his laugh is sharp and humorless. “friend. right.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?”
“it means i don’t want to be your friend,” he says plainly, his eyes burning into yours. “i haven’t wanted that for a while now.”
your breath catches. “jungkook—”
he steps closer, and for a moment, you think he might kiss you. but he stops just short, his voice low and rough.
“i want you to stop pretending like there’s nothing here. i want you to stop running every time i get close.”
you open your mouth to argue, but the words catch in your throat.
“again, if you don’t want this—me—then tell me,” he continues, his voice softening. “but don’t keep showing up, acting like i don’t drive you as crazy as you drive me. don’t… please, don’t make me feel stupid.”
the room feels too small, the air too thick.
jungkook’s hand lingers on your arm, his touch grounding even as your heart races wildly. his dark eyes search yours, flickering with emotions you can’t fully decipher—hurt, hope, frustration.
“you don’t have to know everything right now,” he says softly, his voice carrying a steadiness that contrasts with the storm raging between you. “i’m not asking for perfect, ___. i’m not even asking for easy. i just…” he exhales shakily, the vulnerability in his tone cutting through your defenses. “i just need to know you’re willing to try.”
your throat tightens, his words hitting you in a place you’ve tried so hard to ignore. the thought of trying—of letting yourself fall completely, with no safety net—terrifies you. but the thought of him walking away? it’s unbearable.
“i want you,” you whisper, the fear laced in your voice so raw it feels like you’ve just exposed every guarded corner of yourself. “i want you, jungkook.”
his fingers trail down your arm, stopping just above your wrist.
“say it again,” he says, his tone almost exasperated, but not unkind. “please?”
you bite your lip, the weight of his words pressing down on you. everything about this moment feels pivotal, like a single word could either shatter or rebuild everything between you.
“i want you, jungkook,” you admit, your voice trembling but resolute. “i… i want us.”
his expression softens, relief washing over his features like a tidal wave.
“good,” he murmurs, stepping closer, so close that his scent—clean, familiar, entirely jungkook—invades your senses. then, his hands come up, gently cradling your face as he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze.
“i… i want us too. i think it’s all i ever really wanted. to be yours…”
his thumbs stroke your cheeks, and before you can overthink it, he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. the tension in the room shifts, softening but no less charged.
“does this mean i get to take hello kitty home today?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
“is that all you really care about?” he says, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips.
“i care about other things.”
“like what?”
“like you.”
and then he kisses you.
you and jungkook have been dating for 6 months when you suddenly say; "happy 6 months, baby! wanna have sex?"
jungkook practically jolts out of his bed and takes the plushie. he places it on his desk and turns hello kitty over to face the wall. (no, you haven't taken it home. for some reason, it suits being in jungkook's room more than yours).
you laugh as he turns back to you and says;
"good timing, ___. i'm ovulating."
jungkook can't breathe.
… and you? you never expected it to feel this way.
the thrill of it… the intensity—the intimacy.
as jungkook towers over you, he pulls his shirt over his head. the minute his chest is bare, your hands find your way to roam around his body. his abs, his biceps, and down his—
“wait,” jungkook pleads, eyes hungrily looking into yours. “wanna take this slow with you. wanna do it right for you.”
you nod slowly, understanding what he means.
the truth is; your virginity is your virginity.
there isn’t much to it aside from that the fact that it’s not taken. you were never wronged but you were also never pursued right… sure, it’s special… but it isn’t everything.
jungkook treats it like it is though.
you don’t mind.
for the past 6 months, he's been really careful with how he acts around you sexually. sure, a few pussy eating moments and heated make outs have been happening... but not the full thing. actually, you've never really seen jungkook's dick yet.
he refuses to let you give him a blowjob.
said something about how easy it is for him to cum at the thought of you—he isn't ready to embarrass himself in front of you just yet.
but today, at your 6 month mark, it's different.
jungkook can't hold it in anymore and you showed up extra pretty. you planned this, didn't you?
(yes.)
gently, he helps you undress.
he takes your shirt off for you and takes a deep breath when you arch your back for him to unclasp your bra. nervously, he does so. then, he tosses your bra aside and takes in the view.
the prettiest fucking tits he’s ever seen.
jungkook reaches, cupping and squeezing your boobs. you watch him as he does so, unsure of what to do.
he then lowers himself, placing kisses over your tits and down your stomach. positioning himself more comfortably, he finds himself in between your legs. lifting them up, he takes your pants off… then, his eyes flicker from you to your panties.
his fingers play with the hem of your panties. then, he scrunches them together, tugging them up so your folds are exposed.
“fuck,” jungkook groans. “so pretty…”
“yeah?”
“yeah,” he breathes, watching your pussy begin to swell. “think your kitty can be good for me? think you can be patient? that’s it… good kitty.”
you tilt your chin down to look at him.
he’s licking his lips, lowering himself down to your pussy.
“be a good kitty, okay?” he says, as he begins to massage your pussy with his hands. your panties are still on so the friction of the fabric make you a little annoyed.
aren’t you having sex soon?
shoudn’t this shit be off be now?
“jungkook—”
“i know, baby,” jungkook pouts at you. “i know it’s hard to wait… look at your pussy… so wet and your panties aren’t even off.”
“i get more wet than this?”
“if i play my cards right, yeah.”
you whimper. “please, jungkook… just.. take them off.”
“you want me to?”
“yes,” you huff. “want you to take my panties off.”
he nods slowly… as if he’s thinking about something—considering something.
then, he decides to give in.
jungkook tugs your panties down entirely, leaving your pussy out in the open. he throws his head back in admiration. it’s like he’s been hit by cupid or something.
without warning, he buries his face inside.
jungkook begins with a couple licks and spreading your folds a part. his tongue brushes against your clit—up, down, side to side—everywhere. god, you feel him everywhere. after a few licking and sucking moments, he pulls away and rubs his thumb against your clit. he spits on your pussy—letting his saliva drool down slowly.
you watch.
“you like that, baby? you like when i spit in your pussy?”
tongue-tied, you nod obediently.
he grins before giving in again.
jungkook eats you up, devouring every inch of your pussy. before you know it, he’s shoving a finger inside you as he sucks on your clit. you almost yelp at the sensation—a feeling completely new to you.
“ohhh… yeah… f-feels so good, jungkook…” you moan, throwing your head back.
honestly, the added finger burns.
but he’s gentle with it. he moves his finger inside you with lots of intentions. he gradually shoves it in deeper and deeper too.. it just… it feels good.
so good.
you throw your head back and grab a fist full of his hair.
“uh, uhhhh… mhmfffph—” you moan. “ohhh…. f-fuck…”
jungkook looks up and watches the way your lips twitch. how your body reacts to him eating you out… and it all just boosts his ego.
he’s so glad to be here.
jungkook then pulls away, taking his tongue out of the equation. he focuses on fingering you, making sure you’re enjoying the way it feels. you two catch each others gaze and continue to look into each others eyes.
as jungkook picks up the pace fingering you, you bite your lip and love the way his eyebrows furrow in concentration.
“f-fuck,” you utter. “i’m gonna—o-ohhh!”
you cum on his fingers.
jungkook pulls them out, taking your cum and spreading it around your folds. he massages it in like lube before taking his fingers to his mouth.
he tastes you.
then, before you can catch your breath, jungkook leans down and kisses you.
he kisses you deeply.
when he pulls away, you ask; “c-can we…”
jungkook chuckles.
“soon,” he assures you, tucking your hair behind your ear. he presses his lips against your cheek.
then, his lips find yours with a hesitance that feels almost reverent, like he’s afraid to ruin something sacred. and then, slowly, he deepens the kiss—tentative at first, but with a growing confidence that feels utterly jungkook.
it’s the kind of kiss that feels like discovery. like he’s studying every angle, every curve, every reaction, cataloging them in his mind like a scholar with his favorite subject. his hands hold you as if you’re delicate but unshakable all at once, his thumbs brushing tenderly against your jawline.
when he tilts his head, changing the angle, it’s with a deliberate slowness, as though he’s savoring the moment, pulling apart the layers of this kiss to commit it to memory. you can feel the way his lips curve faintly against yours, like he’s smiling, like he’s finding joy in every second of this new experiment.
and you realize—he’s not just kissing you.
he’s learning you.
nerd.
you gasp when he pulls you closer, your arms instinctively wrapping around his body. his lips part slightly, and the way he kisses you now feels like a question, like he’s asking for something without saying a word.
he’s meticulous, like he wants to explore every inch of you through this kiss, leaving no detail untouched. the way he holds you is tender but firm, grounding you while setting your pulse on fire.
when he finally pulls back, his breathing is uneven, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. his eyes flutter open, and they’re soft, full of something you can’t quite name but feel all the same.
“i want you forever,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with awe, as though he’s just unraveled the world’s most beautiful equation.
you giggle at him. “great. can we start now?”
“way to kill the mood—”
“please, for the love of god!” you squirm. “fuck me already.”
jungkook can’t help but laugh.
but he gives in.
jungkook shifts out of his pants, revealing his hard cock.
you stare at it.
it's pretty.
it's thick all around and his tip looks like it's angry. you like the way it looks though... looks delicious. his cock has you completely mesmerized. you almost want to crawl to it but he saves you the journey as he brings it close to you.
truth be told, jungkook's a little nervous.. he doesn't want to fuck this up.
“you know…” he begins, as he jerks himself off in front of you. “i want to be mean. like, really fucking mean. i want to make you beg. i want to make you choke on my fucking cock and have you scream my name but—fuck, ___… i look at you and i can’t…. i can’t even do all i want with our fucking foreplay because i fold so easily when it comes to you. you want me to fuck you? fine. i’ll fuck you.”
“be mean,” you whimper. “come on. don’t be a pussy. just because this is my first time—f-fuck! holy shit, jungkook—”
jungkook has slowly puts his cock inside you.
you gasp for air.
he caresses your face as you adjust to him being inside you. then, he drags his tongue around your neck. he sucks on it a bit, causing you to grip the sheets.
“o-oh my… j-jungkook…”
“you okay, baby?” he asks, slightly moving himself in deeper.
you take a deep breath and exhale from your mouth. “f-fuck…”
he’s so big.
you can feel every curve of his dick and vein. when his tip entered, it felt funny. like, uncomfortable but also really fucking good. as he begins to thrust in and out, you breathe through the sharpness of his movement.
“hurts…” you confess.
jungkook shifts, and kisses your neck. against your skin, he murmurs; “i’m sorry, baby… do you want me to—”
“no,” you tell him, as you open your legs wider. you wrap yourself around him and hold on tight. “think… think i’m okay. can you move more?”
jungkook nods and kisses you once more.
he begins to fuck you.
slowly but surely… he begins to drill himself into you.
missionary isn’t his favourite but having you this way… especially for your first time? god, did he love this. as you dig your nails into his back, you whimper every time he thrusts back inside you.
“f-fuck,” you moan. “jungkook… it’s…”
“what?” he almost panics. “a-are you okay?”
“yeah,” you breathe. “it feels good now… can you… go harder?”
jungkook hisses, feeling like he could lose his mind.
“can we switch position?” he pitches.
you agree.
jungkook then pulls out of you, and you suddenly feel the emptiness. he goes on his knees and takes you by your waist, guiding you to turn over and go on all fours.
doggy.
jungkook helps you position yourself before angling himself. he licks his hand and spreads your entrance. he then guides his dick inside you. as he begins to thrust, you suddenly feel him reach around and start to rub your clit…
and oh my god.
does it feel heavenly.
“oh,” you hum. “feels so good.”
jungkook leans over, and kisses your shoulder. as he pulls away, he takes his other hand and grabs a fistfull of your hair. he pulls your hair back and you moan at the tightness.
“you like that, my little bitch?” he grunts as he fucks you.
he feels your pussy clench. then, he smriks.
“oh? you like being called a little bitch, huh?” jungkook then takes his hand off your clit and uses it to slap your ass. "my fucking cockslut. always so fucking horny but you're just a little dirty minded virgin, right? not anymore, okay? i'm taking it. taking all your sticky fucking cum. you're all mine, baby. you know that, right? you're mine, bitch."
smack.
your pussy tightens around his cock again.
smack.
you moan his name.
“jungkook…”
he inshales shaprly and moves both hands and grabs your waist. he pulls you into him with each trust, adding more intensity.
jungkook fucks you harder and harder and you can’t help but love the way it feels. you moan his name, whimpering pleads like; “please… please, fuck me harder.” you can’t help it… it’s the way that his hard cock feels inside you that make you say shit like that. it’s the way that his hands roam around your body and you feel him everywhere… because he is everywhere.
his mind goes dizzy.
he goes blank actually.
then, when you reach back and wrap your arms around the back of your thighs—jungkook feels like he might lose it.
how do you know how to move like that?
god, you’re so hot.
“mhmm. that’s it…. fucking me so good, nerd.”
then, jungkook loses it.
like… really.
he fucks you harder and harder until you’re whimpering his name and almost near tears. he doesn’t realize how hard he’s fucking you until you’re near climax—
“i’m cumming!” you cry. “baby, i’m gonna—ahh, a-ahhh! fuck..”
it happens so fast.
suddenly, you cum and you lose your balance.
jungkook helps you lay down properly. he gets on top, continuing to fuck you in missionary. he fucks you through your orgasm. as you catch your breath, you feel him hiss against your skin.
“fuck.”
just then, jungkook pulls out.
as he jerks himself off, you tug on his hand and pout at him. he tilts his head, a little confused but quickly catches on.
“cum right on me?”
(i mean, camaraderie)
a few seconds later, jungkook straddles your face.
he places his dick inside you mouth and you focus on licking the tip of his dick. you do it softly, not adding much pressure. it sends shivers down his spine… then, you use the topside of oyur tongue to add more stimulation. you dig your face deep, licking his balls a little.
he moans.
you suck him off—slow but so fucking intense.
jungkook can’t take it.
he places one hand on the back of your head and helps control how deep you take him.
his dick reaches the back of your throat and it’s fucking toe-curling for jungkook. you take him in so good. as you suck him off, he can’t help but not last long.
“ahh–aahhhh.. f-fuck—” jungkook moans deeply. “nghhh.... fuck, ___! holy fucking shit...”
jungkook pulls out seconds later and cums all over your face.
as his cum drips down your face, you catch it with your finger and look at it.
“ohh,” you pant. “that’s what cum looks like…”
jungkook rolls his eyes at you before dipping his head low and kissing you. you two laugh as you pull away, completely in disbelief of everything that had just happened.
1 month later...
“you’re such a bad boyfriend,” you say, crossing your arms dramatically as you sit on the couch, watching jungkook fiddle with the back of your laptop.
he pauses, turning his head slowly to look at you over his shoulder. his glasses are sliding down his nose, his hair is a bit messy from pushing it back so many times, and he looks entirely unimpressed.
“bad boyfriend?” he repeats, sounding genuinely offended. “you asked me to fix your laptop. i'm a chem major, not tech.”
“smart boyfriends are supposed to be well rounded."
he glares at you. "again. you asked me to fix your laptop. i'm doing my best, baby."
"yeah, but like... i asked you over an hour ago,” you tease, leaning back and pretending to sigh. “you’ve been ignoring me ever since.”
“ignoring you?” he scoffs, turning back to the tangled mess of wires. “i’m literally upgrading your RAM so you can stop complaining about how slow it is. if anything, i’m the best boyfriend.”
you hum thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. “debatable. the best boyfriend wouldn’t make me sit here in silence while he nerds out over motherboards or whatever.”
“okay, first of all,” he says, setting the screwdriver down and turning to you fully now, “it’s not ‘whatever.’ this is your motherboard’s lifeline. without it, you don’t get to binge your little dramas.”
“so you’re saying you’re not doing this for me—you’re doing it for the laptop?”
“i’m doing it so you don’t keep stealing my ipad to ‘watch just one more episode’ and kill my battery in two hours,” he fires back, but there’s a little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips now.
you tilt your head, grinning. “i think you just proved my point.”
“fine,” he says, pulling his glasses off and tossing them onto the table. “what do i have to do to reclaim my best boyfriend title, huh? flowers? chocolates? fixing this annoying laptop isn’t enough?”
“hmm,” you pretend to think. “i’d say… maybe you stop being a nerd for five minutes and come cuddle me instead.”
he rolls his eyes but moves toward you anyway, tugging you into his lap without hesitation.
“there,” he says, wrapping his arms around you as you snuggle into his chest. “am i forgiven, or do i need to sit in front of a claw machine and lose $200 again?”
“hmm,” you hum, grinning as you tap your chin. “hello kitty does look a little lonely. but maybe she deserves a friend when you really screw up.”
“you’re planning for that?” he asks, incredulous.
“not planning,” you tease, shrugging. “just preparing. i’ve already picked cinnamon roll for when you really drop the ball.”
he stares at you for a long moment, narrowing his eyes. “you know, this feels like extortion. i bet you mess with me on purpose just to stock up on plushies.”
“maybe,” you say sweetly, poking his cheek. “but you can’t prove it.”
he sighs, leaning his head back against the couch dramatically.
“great. i’m dating a scam artist.”
“you’re dating a genius,” you correct, grinning.
“genius or not,” he counters, tightening his hold on you, “you’re stuck with me.”
you tilt your head up to look at him, biting back a laugh at the slight pout on his lips.
“wow, jungkook, that’s so nerdy of you.”
he groans, letting his head fall against your shoulder.
“i’m never fixing your laptop again. let me know when you need help naming all the isomers of butanol—"
"baby, did you hear that?"
"hear what?"
"you put the dolphins to sleep. good job! yay, your marine conservation bullshit finally came in handy—"
"wanna break up?"
"meanie."
"you're mean."
"sure, let's break up," you tell him. "how about never?"
"never?" jungkook asks, tucking your hair behind your ears. "sounds good."
you glance at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.
"it's you, me, and the fucking dolphins forever, nerd."
#bts mini series#bts fic#bts jk fanfic#bts jk fic#jk fic rec#jk fic#jk smut#jungkook smut#jungkook x yn#jk e2l#jungkook fluff#jungkook f2l#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
x : TO LOVE, TO CHANGE: *+゚
in which: you tell veritas you love him. he gets upset with you.
warnings: contrary to what the synopsis implies, it's fluff, i promise. 1k words, first time saying ily, slightly cranky reader, no mentions of reader's gender, dr. ratio being so in love he becomes so soppy and lovestruck. confessions.
a/n: there's a phenomenon that happens whenever i write for dr. ratio, and it's that my heart literally lunges out of my chest and begins typing at the keyboard for me. i should get it checked out. anyways, this is to preemptively celebrate his release!!
“Why- why are you mad?” You exclaim, watching the way Veritas crosses his arms and pouts with the petulance of a child. His gaze has strayed away from your eyes, and all you can do is sit in his lap with your arms hanging at your sides, brain tirelessly racking for all the reasons that you could have angered him.
He doesn’t give you any clues, displeasure brewing in his eyes instead.
“Is it because I said ‘I love you’?”
The purple haired scoffs and sticks up his nose, hair bouncing with his actions whilst you jostle slightly on his legs from the quick action. As much as you love his side profile, you’d love it even more if he spoke to you about what is bothering him.
During this moment, the world stills. You think he’s genuinely mad, and Dr. Ratio’s fury-driven state is not something you should take lightly. Really, you’ve seen it multiple times, and though it has never been directed at you, you hope it never will be. Which is why you sit on his lap now, tensely anticipating his response, and for the answer as to what you did wrong.
“I was meant to say it first,” he grumbles, losing the arrogance that fills his tone whenever he speaks, air filling with sincerity.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I was meant to be the one to say ‘I love you’ first.”
Your confusion is tangible at this point. Audible, if you will, because it rings like cicada sing. “Are you being serious?”
“Deadly.”
“You- why, then couldn’t you just have said it?” You sputter, slapping his defined deltoid, concern slowly melting into frustration. “Need I remind you that it was me who confessed to you first as well?”
“Yes, and it was positively the best day of my life.” He says that like it’s a simple fact. No sentiment, no heartfelt declaration, just another logical statement straight from a textbook of his life.
They say to be loved is to be changed, but no matter how much you love Veritas, all he knows is how to be an astronomical pain in your ass. Does he know how scared you were for his answer? You thought you did something unforgivable, or that he didn’t love you enough to respond in kind, or worst of all, that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore?
However, he's acting petty because he was not the first one to say those three words? You frankly don’t know why your heart beats for him as strongly as it does. In fact, you want to whack him over the head with his own codex.
Placing your hands firmly on his shoulders, you shuffle out of your position from his lap, planting your feet onto the ground. “Oh, you are so infuriating! Pretend I never said anything, I’m going back to my office until you-”
Not even two steps away from him and a hand clasps around your wrist to drag you back to where you started: on Dr. Ratio’s lap. His arms come to wrap around you like chains, leaving no room to wrestle him out.
“I never said you could leave. Especially not after telling me you love me,” he grumbles lowly into your collarbone, breath tickling your skin.
“I’m starting to regret it.”
“Can’t you at least say it again?”
“I don’t want to,” you grumble, arms snaking up to rest around his shoulders. “You don’t deserve it.”
“Well, that’s a little harsh. Is this how you treat the ones you love?”
“You haven’t even said anything back,” you pinch his skin. “Talk about harsh.”
“Do you remember the first time we met?” he asks with a fond chuckle, not missing the opportunity to leave kisses in a trail along your skin, making his way up your neck. Then, when his eyes meet yours, you almost crumble in embarrassment at the memory he’s injected into your mind.
You push him away and raise a hand to shield your eyes from him, clearly reliving a haunting memory. “Please don’t remind me.”
“Y’know, it’s not everyday someone gets to scold me and be right. If you weren’t so beautiful, I wouldn’t have let it slide, but it’s not everyday a gorgeous genius falls into my lap with guts to challenge me.”
“I was… agitated that day, so stop talking about it, please. In fact, for my sake, please just forget that moment. Completely.”
“Forget about it? Completely?” The scholar asks with genuine shock lacing his tone. “I fell in love with you in that very moment, how can you expect me to stop talking about it? You rendered me a fool in love and expect me to not think about the very moment it happened? Sweetheart, it was a pivotal moment of my life!”
“Not pivotal enough if you can’t even say ‘I love you, too’.”
“On the contrary, I have loved you longer. I yearned for you in wakefulness and in my dreams. I wished for you to look my way, and when you did, I never wanted your eyes to stray from me. How heartbreaking it was when they did.” His hand has snuck under your shirt now to rub circles on your skin. If he detached from you, he fears you’d slip away from him, and the worst thing you can give him is space. “Do you know how it felt chasing after you because you were the only one out of my reach? For three years, the only thing I wanted was to be yours. You made me an idiot.”
Stunned by his confession and the weight of it, you let him continue, sharp tongue softening. The only motivation you offer is a hand coming to cup his cheek, tucking aside his bangs so you can see his expression in its entirety.
His gold eyes shine when they look back up at you. For the first time, you feel like you’re seeing the parts of him that Veritas hides from everyone else.
“I love you.” He continues with heart wrenching devotion. “I’ll continue loving you until the streams stop, the rivers freeze, and the oceans dry. With three hundred thousand, eighty-three thousand, five hundred and seventy-one discovered planets in the cosmos, that phenomenon will approximately take-”
You seal his lips with yours in a gentle kiss, cradling his jaw and swallowing his words. Like wax to fire, Veritas sinks into you, completely helpless against your affections.
But, oh, you love him, and nothing else in the entire universe matters.
© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
#earthtooz: honkai star rail#dr ratio x reader#veritas ratio x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#ratio x reader#dr ratio fluff
7K notes
·
View notes
Note
Part two of feisty slytherin reader where it’s just the boys being like kinda in love with reader and everything you can pick how reader responds
this ended up taking me way longer to complete than I thought it would! it also ended up way longer than usual. here's the lead up to our infamous poly!marauders x feisty!slytherin reader!!! 🫶
poly!marauders x feisty, fem slytherin!reader
p1 // p2 // p3
CW: head injury - not graphic or detailed but mentions blood.
“Okay Moony, if you’re going to help us win over Y/N, you should know she does not like dramatic public displays of appreciation.” James said sagely as he walked into their shared dorm room.
Remus spared Sirius a confused look from his seat in the chair, but from the way James was currently rubbing his arm Sirius had a pretty good idea of what just took place.
“Yeah, erm, I don’t think you have to worry about that with me, bubs. Thanks for the heads up though.” Remus added bemusedly.
“Let me guess.” Sirius taunted, rolling over onto his stomach so that he faced James. “The charmed roses following her around the halls wasn’t a hit?”
“No, but she did...” He sulked, pulling his uniform shirt off to expose a small albeit quite red welt on his upper arm.
“Awe, poor Jamie. Come here bubs.” Remus cooed at him, opening his arms to invite the boy into his lap.
James obliged all too willingly and snuggled up to the werewolf like he was a small toddler and not a giant beefy man-baby.
“Don’t mollify him when he’s out here botching our grand plans to woo the girl of our dreams.” Sirius said, causing Remus to roll his eyes and James to scoff indignantly.
“Well at least I’m working on it! What are you doing to woo her?” James retaliated.
Sirius offered him a wolfish grin. “Oh, I’ve got a little trick up my sleeve.”
You had to get out of the castle. You could still feel everyone’s eyes on you, ogling you like you were some kind of freakshow.
You don’t know what kind of game those Gryffindor’s were trying to play, but you were not about to be the butt of whatever sodding joke this was.
Roses, really? Charmed to follow you around the castle as Potter smirked from the sidelines. Did he have any idea how humiliating that was?
So, yeah. You walloped him. In the arm. With your fist. Hard. But what else were you supposed to do!? You’d confronted him and demanded that he end the charm and all he said was ‘you look so cute when your nose scrunches up like that’.
He and Black have always been a bother – seemingly having taken some kind of interest in you for whatever reason. Lupin had always been more reasonable; one would think that he’d have evened those two out during their relationship, but apparently that was an impossible task. You supposed it was because he was all but one man.
But lately, even he was starting to stare at you a little too long, smile a little too softly, find too many excuses to be in your vicinity. It was infuriating.
So, you were outside.
It was nice outside.
Well, it was nice enough outside.
You packed yourself some snacks in your book bag, two blankets and an extra jumper to go sit by the Black Lake. You figured you should be able to enjoy some peace and quiet out here on your own.
You unfolded one of the blankets to lay onto the ground before sitting on it and then laid the second blanket over your lap. You could hear other students on the grounds in the distance and the soothing sound of the water lapping gently against the shore.
As luck would have it, a certain dog with long-black hair would set out to disrupt that.
“What are you doing here?” You asked the dog as it approached you calmly. You wondered for a moment if you should be scared before it stopped at the edge of your blanket to sit and tilt its head at you, his tongue falling out of his mouth haphazardly.
He didn’t look too scary, ignoring his size.
You craned your neck to look around, checking if perhaps he was here with someone, but it appeared that you were, in fact, alone on this side of the lake.
You felt something cold and wet nudge your pinkie, and you turned to see that the dog had laid down beside you with his head between his paws, nose next to your hand.
“If I pet you, are you going to bite me?” You asked him. He answered by nudging your hand again and offering it a little lick.
“You better not have fleas.” You muttered as you scratched behind the dog’s ears. You would have sworn he had furrowed his eyebrows at your comment if dogs could do such a thing. You noticed then that the dog had startling silver-blue eyes.
“Where are your people?” You asked, glad no one was around to see you conversing with a dog. He answered you by rolling over for belly rubs.
You scoffed out a laugh but acquiesced. “Fine, you can stay. But I came out here for peace and quiet, ‘kay?”
The dog seemed fine with that plan and let you read through two chapters of your book, only interrupting every paragraph or so for more pets. Eventually however, it grew too cold, and you decided to pack up.
Confirming your suspicions, the dog began to follow you towards the castle. You pretended like you hadn’t noticed or perhaps just didn’t care until you were near the greenhouses.
“For future reference, Black,” you said, turning to the dog who seemed to pause mid-step as you considered him. “I really am more of a cat person.” You smirked, turning to walk back to the castle alone.
“Here, let me get that for you.” James said, opening the door for you rather chivalrously in Sirius’ opinion.
“I’m not a delicate flower, Potter, I can open a door.” You muttered angrily, storming past him into the classroom.
James deflated a little as he followed you in, but perked up when Remus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“I thought that was very sweet of you, Jamie.” He placated.
James gave him a half smile in response. “Thanks Moons.”
“I mean, what are we supposed to do? What bird doesn’t like dogs!?” Sirius grumbled, opting to ignore James’ whining.
“Don’t call her a bird, Sirius.” Remus chided.
“Probably didn’t help you’re a big ol’ mangy mutt.” James muttered petulantly.
“Oi!” Sirius called. “That’s not what you say when Padfoot snuggles you to sleep.”
James had the good graces to turn a little red at that.
Their conversation was interrupted (quite rudely if you asked Sirius) by Professor McGonagall as she began the instructions for today’s Transfiguration lesson: turning buttons into butterflies.
Sirius stole a concerned glance towards James to see Remus doing the same; they were horrified to see a mischievous look adorning their boyfriend’s face.
“Prongs...” Sirius warned, whilst Remus whispered a “remember what we talked about.”
But they both knew it was too late; there was no stopping him once James set his mind to something.
Sirius is quite sure it was the fourth butterfly that did you in; you seemed to consider the first a fluke, the second was annoying, the third made you suspicious, but by the fourth you’d had enough.
With little to no warning you turned and lobbed a large hard-covered tome at the group.
“I don’t know which of you tossers are behind this, but it reeks of Potter. So help me gods I will gut you and string you up to the rafters from your intestines if you don’t leave me alone!” You screeched.
“But how else will you know I’m crazy about you?” James pouted, causing you to groan exasperatedly.
“If you’re looking for some cutesy princess who will swoon at your sodding roses and butterflies, then you’ve got the wrong witch.” You spat.
Sirius smirked. “Oh, we have exactly the right witch.”
“I swear to Circe if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll sic Barty on you.” You threatened.
Sirius and James both scoffed whilst Remus smirked.
“Please dollface, you insult me. I’m not afraid of Junior.” Sirius taunted.
You narrowed your eyes at him menacingly before realization dawned on you. “Fine.” You said simply, giving Sirius a distinct uneasy feeling. “Perhaps I’ll tell Regulus.”
Sirius slammed his fist on the table and leaned forward. “You wouldn’t.” He seethed.
You smirked deviously. “Just try me, Black.” You sneered in response.
Did...did Sirius have a degradation kink?
Sirius was ashamed to admit that he had to take a very cold shower after that.
You had been sitting in the library trying to work on your Potions essay. You had felt fairly safe here seeing as the Gryffindor’s (at least the most problematic ones) had been sanctioned from using the library during quiet study hours on account of their typical foolishness.
Except one.
“Mind if I sit here?” Lupin’s lilting voice sounded from your right side before he sat down without waiting for your response.
“Why bother asking if you were just going to sit anyways?” You grumbled.
“Well, it was the polite thing to do.” He said, turning to face you. You held his gaze (his gaze, your glare) until he finally sighed. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”
You considered him for a moment. You couldn’t deny he was the least buffoonish out of the so-called Marauders though you’re not sure that amounted to much.
But he was quieter, kinder, softer around the edges. And he had been far more polite to you than his boyfriends.
“Are you going to flirt with me?”
One of Remus’ eyebrows (the one with the scar running through it, you noticed) raised expectantly as he considered you.
“Let me rephrase that.” You barked quickly, realizing your mistake perhaps a touch too late. “You may sit here, but if you flirt with me, I will stab you with my quill.” You punctuated your threat by blotting his hand which rested on the table with ink from the tip of your quill.
Remus smiled at the sight before returning his amber coloured gaze to yours. “Fair enough. I promise to try to restrain myself, but perhaps you ought to hold onto this hand for me just in case I slip up.” And he – the absolute sodding bastard – slid his left hand comfortably into your right.
You’d never seen someone make a move so assertively and smoothly before. There was nothing to say that any of this even affected Remus as he immediately turned his attention to his book. Was it hot in here? Your hand felt sweaty. Your throat felt tight. Your mouth was dry. Why didn’t you think to bring a bottle of water?!
“Erm,” you started, having to pause to clear your throat. “Just how am I supposed to get my work done with your hand in mine, Lupin?”
You had tried to sound threatening, but based off Remus’ smirk, you’d only managed to goad him further.
“You’re left-handed. Figure it out.”
These boys were going to be the death of you if you didn’t end up killing them first.
“You held her hand!?” James screeched in their dorm room that night whilst Remus smirked to himself. Sirius would make fun of James for his dramatics if he wasn’t just a pissed off about this.
“I’ve been working at this the longest out of either of you, and she lets you hold her hand?” He continued.
“She doesn’t like dogs,” Sirius grumbled, gesturing to himself, “she doesn’t like James. But the werewolf? Really. No offence Moons because I absolutely get the appeal.”
James snapped his fingers as he had a eureka moment. “I’ve got it! Remus; bite me!”
“James!” Remus scolded.
“It’s not fair.” James muttered as he fell onto his bed in defeat. “I’d be so good to her.”
Any ire from Sirius and Remus drained at that as they both moved to join their boyfriend on his bed.
“We know, bubs.” Remus conceded.
“We just...have to give her time. I’m sure she’ll come around, yeah? I mean, with Remus’ smooth moves, my undeniable charm, and your muscles? We’re unstoppable.” Sirius added, eliciting a smile from Remus and a gentle chuckle from James, though his usual light was diminished.
“We’ve just got to be patient, Jamie.” Remus concluded, causing James to groan.
“Patience.” He spat spitefully.
“A 'James ADHD Potter' special.” Sirius winked before kissing any further protests away from James’ lips.
“We’ve got Moony on our team now, bubs. We’re unstoppable.” He whispered, truly believing what he was saying.
If anyone could break through your hard candy-coating shell to reach the chocolate inside, it was certainly Remus Lupin.
You’d had the lovely idea of sitting outside on one of the few sunny days that Scotland got to see this time of year. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone else had the same idea too.
A few Hufflepuffs were playing with a charmed muggle football, kicking it back and forth between the two of them and chasing after it when it opted to fuck off on its own. You didn’t understand the objective of the game, nor did you care to.
Remus and Peter Pettigrew sat on a bench not too far off playing a game of Wizarding Chess that, from where you were sitting, looked like Remus was winning.
You got so caught up in watching Lupin’s game with Pettigrew - in the way that the tendons in his wrist and hands flexed as he moved pieces across the board, and the way that his honey blonde curls fell in front of his eyes causing him to have to blow air upwards so he could see the board - that you noticed something flying at you far too late.
“Look out!” One of the dumb Hufflepuff’s shouted far too late as their charmed football soared into the side of your head, knocking you clean over where your head cracked painfully against a root of the tree you were sitting under.
You scrunched your eyes tight and tried to will your heart to start beating again and your lungs to cooperate, every part of your body seeming to have tensed out of instinct to protect itself.
“L/N! L/N! Come on, dove, open your eyes.” You heard a voice above you.
Why was the voice so worried? How long were your eyes closed? A gentle hand grabbed your chin and wiggled your head back and forth, causing you to hiss in pain.
“Sod...off.” You gritted through your teeth.
The voice chuckled and wiggled your chin once more. “There she is. Open your eyes for me.”
You hated being told what to do but decided to comply anyways.
You probably should have kept your eyes close because the sight made you feel dizzy for a completely different reason.
Hovering above your frame was Remus Lupin; his knees on the ground beside your elbow, one hand gripping your chin and the other gently moving hair away from your face and head.
“Atta girl.” He said with a smile.
“Get away from me.” You grumbled as you moved to sit up. Though Lupin hissed in protest, he helped you sit up nonetheless.
“Is...is she okay?” a timid voice spoke from somewhere behind Lupin’s shoulder causing his expression to darken considerably.
“You stupid wankers are so dead.” You spat as loudly as you could manage, though in your current state – that wasn’t very loud at all.
Your message was received loud and clear, however, as the two Hufflepuffs took off in fear.
“My sentiments exactly.” Lupin muttered as he turned back to you, jaw still tense.
You snorted indelicately as you brought a hand to your head. “Please, don’t tell me you actually care about me, Lupin.”
You hissed in pain as your hand came in contact with something warm and wet and slightly sticky. You pulled your hand back in front of you to inspect, only for Lupin to grab your hand rather harshly and wipe the blood away with a handkerchief.
“Is it so impossible to believe that we could actually care for you?” He muttered quietly, eyes focused on your hand, pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. You watched as his curls bounced with each wipe of his hand against yours. You thought of his gentle hands brushing hair away from your wound moments before. You thought of him begging you to open your eyes. You thought of him being the first one at your side when you were hurt.
And you thought about Black finding ways to be with you even when you staunchly refused his company. You thought of him taking time out of his day to tell you how ‘smoking hot’ you looked that day, even though he said it every day before that, too.
And you thought about Potter who always held the door for you, saved you a seat even though you never accepted it, showered you in affection even though it was public and quite embarrassing. And you thought of the way he always had a smile to give you, even when you gave him no reason to smile at all.
It wasn’t hard to imagine the three of them caring for anyone, quite frankly. Caring seemed to come second nature to those boys.
“No.” You admitted quietly. “It’s not impossible to believe that you could actually care. It’s just impossible to imagine why.”
He stopped rubbing at your hand and met your eye, seemingly contemplating what to say.
“Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey.” He opted for. “Pete, let the boys know where I’ve gone when they’re finished with practice?” Lupin called over his shoulder.
“I can walk myself, Lupin.” You grumbled as he helped you up by your elbow.
“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled back. “You’re not a delicate flower, we know.”
The two of you more or less muttered back and forth to each other the entire way to the infirmary, Lupin supporting more of your weight than he likely needed too but you didn’t feel the need (nor desire) to complain.
Madam Pomfrey was in the middle of looking after a first year Potions class who accidently set off an explosion of incorrectly brewed Cure for Boils which ultimately left each student (and Professor Slughorn) covered head to toe in painful boils.
“Mr. Lupin, if you could clean the wound for me. And Miss. L/N, drink the pain potion. Do not leave until I’ve had a chance to do a proper examination, okay?” She ordered as you positioned yourself more comfortably on the bed after she determined you weren’t about to die (or currently crying, as most of the first years were).
You took the pain potion dutifully and placed it back on the table beside your bed before you startled at the sudden cold wet cloth on your head.
“You are not seriously doing this right now, are you?” You spat.
Remus’ eyebrows drew together as his hands continued on in their task. “You heard the matron; I’m supposed to clean it.”
“I can clean it myself, Lupin; I’ll conjure a mirror.” You argued, causing the scarred boy to scoff.
“I do what I’m told L/N, and quite frankly, the matron scares me more than you do.”
“I must be doing something wrong then.” You sighed, thinking you hadn’t said that loud enough to be heard, but a startled laugh escaped Lupin’s lips.
“Why do you act so volatile?” He asked amusedly.
“It’s not an act.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Well, you call wrong, then, Lupin. I’m an arse and I find everyone exhausting. Deal with it.” You snarked sharply.
Lupin breathed a laugh through his nose. “Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime, then.”
Rotten bastard and his smooth talk...
“WHERE IS SHE!?” a voice echoed through the corridor just outside the entrance to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey needn’t even look up from the boil she was currently draining of puss to know who she was about to scold.
“Mr. Potter, I will have you banned from this infirmary so fast if you raise your voice above so much as a whisper, do not try me. That goes for you too, Mr. Black.” She barked; eyes still focused on the first year’s arm in front of her.
Sure enough, a mop of curly hair, impossibly more wild than usual due to the flight on his broom, poked around the privacy curtains a second before it was joined by a fuming looking Sirius Black.
Potter’s eyes flew to where Remus’ hands were positioned on your head and your stomach lurched at what looked like tears pooling in Potter’s eyes.
“Potter...please, erm, please don’t cry?” You asked awkwardly, leaning away from Remus’ touch as you suddenly became very uncomfortable with this amount of attention.
“She’s alright, Jamie.” Remus sighed, pulling you back over to him gently by the shoulder and continuing his prodding at your wound.
“Who did it?” Sirius spat, arms crossed defensively across his chest and jaw tight as he stared hard at the wound on your head. You were horrified to admit to yourself that he was hot. You’d never really seen it before, how all the girls in your year (and other years) fawned over the long-haired boy.
But he was currently standing in front of you still adorned in his quidditch gear, hair pulled back into a low bun - though he had many fly-aways on account of his recent time in the air - his cheeks still dusted pink from the assertion, and he was currently fuming on your behalf.
Yeah...he was hot.
“Easy.” Remus warned.
“Answer me!” Sirius spat back.
“Pads. I mean it, leave it.” Remus said with finality.
Your eyes darted nervously between the two boys currently staring each other down, but Potter’s eyes were still steadfast on you.
“Let me, Rem.” He finally said gently – the most gently you’d ever heard from the rambunctious boy as he gently moved Remus aside and took over.
“I’m okay, you know.” You offered, not liking how worked up these boys were currently over you.
“I know.” He agreed. “I just hate to see you hurt.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah, why.” You pressed. James looked like you just asked him to calculate the distance between the galaxy of Andromeda and our solar system using the measurement of broomsticks.
“I... I don’t want to see you hurt?”
“You want to see Snape hurt.” You countered, causing James’ face to harden.
“Snape’s a tosser.” He muttered darkly.
“I’m not any nicer than Snape.”
“See, Y/N. You’re so smart and lovely and perfect, but you are way off on that front.” James said through a laugh. “Snape is prejudiced, vindictive, and a racist blood supremist. You’re just combative.” He explained, punctuating the word combative with a gentle boop of your nose.
You wanted to break his finger.
But that would be combative, and you would rather die than prove Potter right, so you opted to roll your eyes instead.
“Did they even hang around to see if she fucking survived or did they just take off to avoid detention?” Sirius spat at Remus, not looking any calmer than he did when he arrived.
“They stayed.” You answered tiredly. “They took off afterwards, and not to avoid detention, but to avoid me.”
“And me.” Remus muttered quietly, looking dangerously close to going back out there to find them himself.
“Did you threaten them?” Sirius asked severely, though you weren’t sure who exactly he had asked.
“Yes.” You and Lupin both answered exasperatedly.
Sirius looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh. “Fine, but if I run into them, I’m hexing them into oblivion.”
“Not if I get to them first.” You growled.
Sirius’ face finally softened as he sat on the end of your bed and cautiously touched your ankle under the blankets.
“You sure you’re okay, Y/N?”
And you aren’t sure what did it.
You weren’t sure if it was the softness you saw in Sirius that you were sure you could have never even imagined possible from a person, let alone someone related to the infamous Black family. Or if it was the eyebrows of Remus Lupin that were furrowed in concern as he dutifully watched his boyfriend finish plastering a bandage to your head, or if it was the unbelievable softness of James Potter’s touch – in complete contrast to his fast, rough, bouncing personality that you were usually subjected to.
But dammit, you felt a tear slip down your cheek.
You wiped it away quickly and nodded your head in yes.
You braced yourself for the teasing, the cooing, the dramatic displays of affection. But Sirius quickly stood and disappeared behind the curtains, James began pouring you a glass of water, and Remus reached into his bag for something.
Remus returned to you first, breaking off a square of chocolate for you. “It’ll help.”
You were too embarrassed to argue and took it, popping it into your mouth dutifully.
“Here.” Sirius said as he appeared back at your bedside, handing you a vial.
“What is it?” You asked, your voice taut with emotion.
Sirius’ eyes softened again as he offered you a sad smile. “Calming draught. You can’t have any more pain potion, but this might make you feel better.”
“And if not, maybe you can convince Moony to share more of his chocolate.” James commented with a soft smile.
You grimaced at the taste of the potion and chased it with the water James had poured for you.
“Thank you.” You admitted quietly, shame colouring your tone as you looked to your lap.
“None of that.” Remus said as he handed you another piece of chocolate.
You took it skeptically. “Why do they call you Moony?”
No one said anything for a moment, but you could tell that neither James nor Sirius were moving a muscle as they watched Remus who in turn watched you.
“Because of my lycanthropy.” He said plainly.
You looked at the various scars before you started to laugh. Sirius’ face drained of all colour while James visibly tensed.
“Of course you are. Remus Lupin. Named after a man raised by wolves and the lupus, or wolf constellation. Oh gods, it was predestined, clearly.”
“Are...are you laughing at me right now?” Remus asked incredulously.
“It’s a little funny...no?” You asked back.
He looked as if he were torn between laughing and crying. “I pour my heart out to you – my deepest darkest secret, and you laugh at me?” He asked again, some amusement colouring his features.
“I told you, I’m an arse.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders.
“Does it bother you?” Sirius asked cautiously from the end of your bed, face appearing impassive for all intents and purposes.
“I don’t see why it should, it’s none of my business.”
“It could be.” Remus input.
“You don’t want me. I’m no good, Lupin.” You stressed, looking back down at your hands.
“Neither am I.” Sirius agreed.
“Me neither.” Remus added.
“I’m n-” James started.
“So what if the only one of us worthy of love and affection here is James?” Sirius said, cutting James off. “It’s not going to stop me from cherishing what I can get - deserved or not.”
You groaned and threw your head back onto the pillow, cringing at the effect the fast movement had on you and the pain that the movement elicited in your neck.
“Okay, what about this.” James conciliated. “You don’t have to agree to be with us, just give us a chance? The time of day? One Hogsmeade trip to let us fawn over you.”
You looked up at his deep brown eyes that felt so warm you wanted to make a home in them. Sirius, in all his bravado, looked pained as he waited for an answer, and Remus smiled encouragingly at you.
“Fine!” You acquiesced with a groan. “One Hogsmeade trip.”
Much to your chagrin, though not really at all, it ended up being way more than just one Hogsmeade trip.
Thank you to @unstablereader who gave us the library handholding prompt 🫶
#ask elle#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders x slytherin!reader#james potter x reader#james potter x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#slytherin!reader#ellecdc fics
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
alhaitham x afab!f!reader, nsfw, 18+, not beta read
cw: omegaverse (alpha!alhaitham + omega!reader), heat, knotting, massive massive MASSIVE breeding kink, impregnation kink, size kink, slight sadism/masochism (more masochism if anything), mentions of pain + hurt, marking + biting, fingering, squirting, unintentional edging (receiving), allusions to dubcon + objectification (but none of it actually), slight nipple play, implied marathon sex
notes: sighs,,, idk how i ended up convincing myself to write omegaverse,,, but i really had a lot of fun with this,,, anyway, i love being an alhaitham fucker, and i love it even more when he loses it and can't be his usual put-together self. lmk if i missed anything in the warnings.
edit: 700+ notes?? y’all :((( i’m v touched and also cracking up lol omegaverse ig checks out - but tyssssm for all the love!! reminders that requests are still open (pls read my rules), and i’d love to have moots/anons!!!!
edit x2: 1,000+ notes... y'all... this is a massive milestone for me to hit - thank you so much for all the love on this lil drabble!! there's no amount of words that can describe how grateful i am, truly.
“ALHAITHAM, FASTER!”
you’re whining, sobbing, desperately begging your lover. anything will do – he can even just lie back and let you bounce up and down on his cock. but you’re only in such a frenzied, lucid state because of your heat. alhaitham, on the other hand, is a few weeks out from his next rut, which means he is able to think about what’s rationally best for you.
you’re infuriated. you need more. you need him to mount onto you, pounding and thrusting into you until you’re screaming for him to stop, and even then, he’ll continue to push you over the edge over and over again until you’re a sticky, fucked out doll. the fire in your belly is burning so passionately, and while you would say something snarky or sarcastic to rile alhaitham up, you can barely carry a thought and can only dig your fingernails into his biceps to convey your impatience.
your lover grunts at the piercing sensation and, through gritted teeth, says, “you just started your heat. rushing through it will only hurt you and lengthen your recovery process.”
you groan at his response, overtly dissatisfied and restless. alhaitham’s response is… it’s just so typical of him. he’s detail-oriented, almost scientific in the way he takes care of you. this isn’t your first heat with him, and he’s learned from prior experiences how to ensure your safety and comfort. in fact, the two of you now follow a procedure to prepare for your heat that consists of: gathering all of your favorite snacks and drinks; washing and prepping all of the pillows, clothes, and blankets you’ll need for your nest; and most importantly, figuring out a polite way of telling kaveh that he’s getting “sexiled.”
but this is overkill, you scream in your head. in missionary, alhaitham is going at a steady pace, but what he doesn’t know and can’t feel is that he’s edging you. he’s fanning the flames of your arousal yet never helping you reach the peak. he’s stimulating you at your most sensitive spots and parts, but it’s not enough for your release. he’s torturing you, and he can’t even tell.
“alhaitham,” you cry out for the nth time. “please, please, please! i can’t take it anymore! i just - i need your cock! i need to cum! please, please, i beg you, i promise you i’ll be fine! alhaitham!”
you’re breaking down into tears. by instinct, your body releases more of your scent, and somewhere beyond your crying, your lover takes a deep inhale.
while alhaitham isn’t in his rut, that doesn’t mean he can’t lose control. he hopes you know that he’s doing his best for you, that he’s holding onto the last shreds of his willpower because, if otherwise, he doesn’t know what will become of you. he’s so much bigger, stronger, sturdier than you are, towering over you in both size and strength. he can be painfully forceful, and inflicting pain upon you is the last thing he wants to do.
but you’re sobbing uncontrollably. you’re defenseless yet pleading him to take you roughly, to break in your pussy with his heavy, leaking cock. you want him to use his force to placate your insatiable heat. you need him to overpower you.
he releases a long, shuddering sigh. he attempts to rationalize, consider the potential repercussions of giving in. but he soon realizes he can’t think. your addicting, heady scent, combined with the beautiful sounds of your moans and whimpers, are rendering his mind empty.
it’s pointless. he growls, “you asked for this.”
one second you’re weeping, and the next all of the air inside you is knocked out by a sudden, harsh thrust from alhaitham. he’s going so fast and hard now, cock head brushing against your womb while his balls and knot slap against your asshole. you feel your toes curl at the feeling of being split apart, and your mouth parts to voice salacious moans.
this is what you wanted. you feel your body relax. you just have to take it, take his fat cock bullying your cunt open, take his harsh bites and teething at your nipples, take his seed until you’re filled to the brim. in your mind, all you can think is, you’re his, you’re alhaitham’s, he wants you. the omega in you croons happily, and you’re every bit as delighted as well.
alhaitham grips onto your wrists tightly as he shoves himself into your tight, sticky walls over and over again. at one point, he flips you over, commanding you to raise your ass up higher. as he holds onto your hips, he watches your ass bounce and jiggle as he pounds into you, and he wants to lick down the beautiful curve of your back. you’re doing your best to stifle your screams because somehow, your lover is reaching even deeper, and the scraping of your breasts against the bedsheets is driving you mad.
then, you feel one of alhaitham’s hands reach down, brushing against the fat of your thighs. it’s inching dangerously close to your throbbing clit, and heat rushes up to your face.
“wait, alhaitham, no –“
your lover pinches your yearning bud, and you scream. wetness gushing everywhere, you’re squirting and creaming, white cum staining your lover’s cock and leaking out of your pussy. your eyes roll back, and you’ve lost all ability to control your body, which is absolutely shaking as alhaitham continue to rub and flick at your clit as he tries to squeeze his knot into your fluttering hole.
“oh, archons! alhaitham! stop! no, no, it’s too much! it can’t fit!”
alhaitham, still teasing and toying with your pussy, leans over and snarls into your ear, “you were just saying you wanted more. now you can’t take it?”
you’re wailing. you feel as if you’re being ripped apart at the seams. but the thought of alhaitham’s knot is just too delicious to pass on, so you don’t complain anymore. you just accept the waves of pain and pleasure that crash over you as alhaitham finally locks his knot inside you and bites down on your neck.
your lover groans loudly, lost in his delirium as well. after a few more shallow grinds, he reaches his own high, and you feel rope after rope of his cum fill you up. alhaitham’s cum is so warm and gooey and thick that you’re drooling and slobbering over the pillows at being filled up so thoroughly – impregnated – with it.
even as he’s still cumming, alhaitham bites on the shell of your ear and commands, “keep up, because i’m not stopping anytime soon.”
you can only whimper and fist the blankets even tighter at his command, bracing yourself for the next round.
#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#alhaitham#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham smut#al haitham#al haitham x reader#alhaitham genshin#genshin alhaitham#carrot cake!
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I STILL HATE YOU / J.W
Pairing ◊ bratty!fem!reader x brattamer!wooyoung (ft. '99 line)
Genre ◊ SMUT, angst, ennemies to ???
Warnings ◊ SMUT (MINORS DNI), reader is a brat, harddom!wooyoung, they hate each other, fingering, rough, degradation, petnames (good girl, sweetheart...), oral (fem receiving), lots of angst
Word count ◊ 4,6k
Summary ◊ : You and Wooyoung hated each other, but your friends thought it would be a good idea to lock wooyoung's room to "sort things out"
a/n: just a sucker for dom Wooyoung 😵💫 enjoy! (not proofread)
You were part of this tight-knit friend group with Wooyoung, Yunho, San, Mingi, and Yeosang. Usually, you would have considered yourself lucky to be surrounded by such a cool bunch of people, but there was one glaring exception: Wooyoung. From the moment you met, you and Wooyoung clashed like fire and ice. You were both cocky, always trying to outdo each other with snarky comments and sarcastic remarks.
It wasn’t even like you had any reason to hate each other; it just happened. Maybe it was how Wooyoung always seemed so smug, with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face. Or maybe it was how he would always find some way to one-up you, no matter what. Either way, the tension between you two was almost palpable, and it was clear to everyone around.
The others in the group seemed to take it in stride. Yunho and San would roll their eyes and laugh it off, while Mingi would try to play peacemaker, often unsuccessfully. Yeosang, on the other hand, seemed to find your constant bickering somewhat amusing, though he rarely got involved. Despite the tension, the group managed to stick together, probably because your mutual animosity oddly balanced the dynamic.
One Friday night, you were all hanging out at their place, lounging on his beat-up couch, debating over what movie to watch. Wooyoung, as usual, had a different opinion from you. He wanted to watch some action flick while you were in the mood for a horror movie. The debate quickly turned into a full-blown argument, with you and Wooyoung standing face-to-face, jabbing at each other with pointed insults, as usual.
“Why don’t you just admit your taste in movies sucks?” Wooyoung sneered, crossing his arms.
“Oh please, like you even understand what makes a good movie,” you shot back, your tone dripping with sarcasm.
Yunho sighed loudly, standing between you two. “Alright, can we just decide already? It’s just a movie.”
San laughed, shaking his head. “You two are hopeless. Can’t even pick a movie without turning it into World War Three.”
The argument over which movie to watch was reaching a boiling point, and everyone in the room could sense it. You and Wooyoung were standing toe-to-toe, practically shouting over each other.
“I’m telling you, action movies are way more entertaining,” Wooyoung argued, his voice filled with exasperation.
“And I’m telling you, horror movies have way better plots,” you shot back, not willing to back down.
Yunho exchanged a knowing glance with San and Mingi. They’d had enough of the constant bickering and had been joking for weeks about taking drastic measures to put an end to it.
“Alright, that’s it,” Yunho said suddenly, standing up. “I can’t take this anymore. We need a break from your constant fighting.”
Before you could react, Yunho grabbed you by the arm while San and Mingi grabbed Wooyoung. You struggled, demanding to be let go, but they were determined.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” you yelled, trying to shake off Yunho’s grip.
“Let go of me! I’m not done here!” Wooyoung protested, struggling against San and Mingi.
Yeosang, who had been quietly watching the whole scene unfold, opened Wooyoung’s bedroom door. “In you go,” he said calmly, stepping aside.
Yunho and San practically shoved you both into the room and quickly shut the door behind you. You heard the click of the lock, and the realization set in.
“Are you guys serious?” you shouted, pounding on the door. “This is so immature!”
“Yeah, open the door! We don’t need this!” Wooyoung added, equally furious.
From the other side of the door, Yunho’s voice came through, sounding uncharacteristically stern. “You two need to sort this out. We’re not letting you out until you do.”
“You can’t be serious,” you groaned, leaning against the door in frustration.
“Oh, we’re very serious,” San replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re both our friends, and we’re tired of the constant fighting. So figure it out.”
Inside the room, you turned to face Wooyoung, who was glaring at you with just as much annoyance as you felt. You crossed your arms, refusing to be the first to speak.
“This is ridiculous,” Wooyoung muttered, pacing back and forth. “Like locking us in here is going to make us get along.”
“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a jerk all the time, we wouldn’t be in this situation,” you retorted, not missing a beat.
Wooyoung stopped pacing and turned to face you, his eyes flashing with irritation. “Me? A jerk? You’re the one who’s always acting like you’re better than everyone else!”
“Oh, please,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I only act like that because you always have to be the center of attention!”
Outside, you could hear your friends laughing and chatting, clearly unconcerned about the drama unfolding inside the room.
“Can’t believe they did this,” you muttered under your breath.
“Same,” he replied, sitting down on his bed with a huff. “This is all your fault.”
“My fault? How is this my fault?” you demanded, sitting down on the floor opposite him.
“You’re the one who always has to argue with me,” he said, gripping his hair in frustration. “You just can’t let anything go.”
“Because you’re always wrong!” you shot back, the argument feeling strangely familiar, yet different with no audience to play to.
You exchanged a heated glance with Wooyoung, who looked ready to explode. “This is all your fault,” he said, his voice low and accusing.
“My fault? You’ve got to be kidding me,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “If you weren’t such a pain in the ass, we wouldn’t be here.”
“Oh, please,” Wooyoung sneered, getting up from the bed and stepping closer. “You’re the one who’s always picking fights.”
“Because you’re always so damn infuriating!” you retorted, matching his step forward until you were face to face.
The tension between you was palpable, and for a moment, it felt like something would snap. Instead, you both turned away with a huff, deciding that silence might be the best strategy. Maybe if you stopped engaging, your friends would see how pointless this was and let you out.
The silence stretched on, heavy and uncomfortable. You sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, while Wooyoung sat on the edge of it, staring at the wall. The minutes ticked by slowly, each second filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. You could feel his presence, every movement and breath, making it impossible to fully relax.
After what felt like an eternity, the silence became too much to bear. You shifted, the slight noise breaking the uneasy peace. Wooyoung glanced at you, his expression unreadable.
“What?” you snapped, unable to hold back.
“Nothing,” he muttered, looking away again.
The frustration boiled over. “You always do this,” you said, your voice rising. “Acting like you’re so much better than everyone else.”
Wooyoung’s head whipped around, his eyes flashing with anger. “Better than everyone else? You’re the one who’s always acting like you have something to prove!”
“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t constantly try to undermine me!” you shouted, standing up.
“You’re unbelievable,” he said, standing up to face you. “You think you’re the only one who’s frustrated? You make everything so damn difficult!”
“Me? You’re the one who—”
The argument escalated quickly, voices rising, insults flying. The room seemed to shrink around you as the anger and frustration spilled over. You were both shouting now, words tumbling out without thought.
“You’re so arrogant!” you yelled, stepping closer to him.
“And you’re so damn stubborn!” Wooyoung shot back, closing the distance between you even more.
The space between you was electric, charged with anger and something else you couldn’t quite identify. The fight became more heated, the words more cutting.
“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “But you’re just a coward, hiding behind that smug attitude!”
Wooyoung’s eyes blazed with fury. “You don’t know anything about me!”
“Maybe because you never let anyone in!” you screamed, pushing him back. He stumbled slightly, then came back, his face inches from yours.
“Maybe because you never tried to understand!” he shouted, his breath hot on your face.
You felt a surge of anger and recklessness take over. “Why would I want to understand someone as pathetic as you?” you shot back, your words sharp and cutting.
Wooyoung’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Shut up,” he said, his voice low and filled with warning.
You met his gaze with a challenging look, the anger and adrenaline making you bold. “Make me,” you replied, your voice steady despite the wild beating of your heart.
For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. Then, before you could react, Wooyoung grabbed your shoulders and pulled you toward him, crashing his lips against yours in a rough, almost desperate kiss. The suddenness of it stole your breath, and for a split second, you were too stunned to respond.
But then you felt a surge of heat, a mix of anger and something much deeper. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands moving to tangle in his hair as you tried to pull him even closer. It was a battle, not a kiss—each of you trying to dominate, to claim the upper hand.
Wooyoung’s hands tightened on your shoulders, his grip almost bruising as he pushed you back against the wall. You gasped, but it only made the kiss more intense. Your hands slipped from his hair to his back, clutching at his shirt as if it was the only thing keeping you grounded.
The kiss was messy, all teeth and tongues and raw need. You could feel the anger in it, the frustration and the years of unspoken tension. But there was something else, too—a desperate desire, a need to finally break through the barriers you’d both put up.
You fought back, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him grunt. He responded by pressing you harder against the wall, his grip on your shoulders almost bruising. His lips moved against yours with a fierce intensity, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, demanding submission.
“Is that all you’ve got?” you taunted, your voice breathless but defiant.
Wooyoung growled, one hand moving to grip your jaw, tilting your head back forcefully. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?” he muttered against your lips before biting down harshly on your lower lip, drawing a gasp from you, almost drawing blood.
You retaliated by digging your nails into his back through his shirt, trying to assert some control. But Wooyoung was relentless. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, his body pressing against yours, leaving you no room to move.
“Pathetic,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re always so desperate to prove yourself.”
“Better than being a smug asshole,” you shot back, twisting in his grip but finding no escape.
Wooyoung’s laugh was dark and mocking. “You like this, don’t you? Being put in your place.” His free hand trailed down your side, gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks.
“Shut up,” you spat, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach.
“Make me,” he countered, echoing your earlier challenge. His lips found yours again, even rougher this time, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, dominating every movement.
You bit down on his tongue, earning a growl from him as he pulled back slightly, only to return with even more force. His kiss was punishing, each movement designed to remind you who was in control. You couldn’t help but respond, your body betraying you as you arched against him.
“You’re such a brat,” he hissed, his lips moving down to your neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave marks. “Always trying to fight me, but you’re just as desperate for this as I am.”
‘’Fuck you,” you repeated, though the words lacked conviction as a moan escaped your lips.
“Admit it,” he demanded, his hand slipping under your shirt, fingers digging into your skin. “Admit that you want this.”
“Never,” you gasped, tugging against his hold on your wrists.
He yanked your hands down, pinning them behind your back with one hand while his other hand slipped under your shirt, trailing down your stomach with rough, possessive movements.
“Let go of me,” you demanded, but your voice wavered, betraying your conflicting emotions.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Not until you learn to keep that mouth of yours shut.” His fingers found the waistband of your pants, slipping inside with a determined, almost punishing force.
You gasped as his fingers brushed against your core, the sensation both shocking and electrifying. “You’re such an ass,” you hissed, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach.
“Such a dirty little mouth,” he taunted, his fingers moving with a rough precision that made it impossible to think clearly. He found your clit quickly, starting to circle it roughly. “Maybe I should teach you a lesson.’’
Before you could respond, his fingers pushed inside you, the intrusion rough and unyielding. You bit back a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction, but it was impossible to ignore the intensity of his touch.
“You like that, don’t you?” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot and taunting. “You act all tough, but deep down, you’re just a needy little slut.”
“Shut up,” you managed to gasp, your body betraying you as you arched against his hand.
His fingers moved faster, rougher, each movement designed to break down your resistance. “Fuck. You’re so wet for me. Just admit it.”
You clenched your jaw, refusing to give in. “I hate you,” you spat, though the words lacked conviction.
“Oh, I know you do,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But your body says otherwise.” He added another finger, stretching you, making you gasp. “Look at you, so desperate and needy. It’s pathetic.”
You wanted to retort, to throw another insult his way, but the sensation was overwhelming. His fingers moved with a brutal efficiency, hitting just the right spots to make you squirm. The anger and hatred mixed with the undeniable physical attraction, creating a storm of conflicting emotions.
“Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough and commanding. “Admit that you want this.”
“Never,” you gasped, though the word came out more like a moan.
Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, and he thrust his fingers harder, making you cry out despite yourself. “Say it,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“I… I want it,” you finally admitted, the words torn from you unwillingly.
“Good girl,” he murmured, a mocking smile on his lips. “Was that so hard?” He continued his rough ministrations, his fingers moving in a relentless rhythm that left you trembling.
The words were degrading, but they pushed you over the edge. Your body convulsed around his fingers, pleasure crashing through you in waves. You cried out, unable to hold back, your hands gripping his arms for support.
Wooyoung watched you with a satisfied smirk, his fingers continuing to move inside you, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm. "That's it, sweetheart,’’ he murmured, his voice softening just a fraction.
You tried to catch your breath to regain some semblance of control, but Wooyoung was already kneeling in front of you, his hands roughly pushing your pants and underwear down to your ankles.
“Wh-what are you doing?” you stammered, though your body betrayed you with a shiver of anticipation.
“You think I’m done with you?” he growled, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave marks. “I’m going to show you what happens when you push me too far.”
Before you could respond, he leaned in, his tongue flicking against your clit with a precision that made your knees buckle. You gasped, one hand flying to his hair, the other bracing against the wall for support.
“Wooyoung, stop—” you started, but your words dissolved into a moan as he sucked hard on your clit, his tongue working you over with relentless, rough strokes.
“You’re going to scream for me,” he muttered against you, his voice vibrating through your core. “Let your friends hear how much you need this.”
“Fuck—no,” you managed to gasp, though your voice wavered.
Wooyoung laughed, the sound dark and cruel. “We’ll see about that.” He intensified his movements, his tongue moving in ruthless circles while his fingers dug into your thighs, holding you in place.
You bit your lip, trying to stifle the sounds threatening to escape, but it was no use. The combination of his rough touch and skilled tongue was too much. Your hips bucked against his mouth, and a cry slipped out before you could stop it.
“Louder,” he demanded, pulling back just enough to speak, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “I want them to hear how much you love this.”
“Fuck you,” you spat, but the defiance was slipping away with every flick of his tongue.
He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe later,” he said, diving back in with renewed intensity. His tongue moved faster, harder, and you could feel the pressure building again, even more overwhelming than before.
Your resolve crumbled, and you let out a loud moan, unable to hold back. Wooyoung smirked against you, his satisfaction evident as he continued to push you closer to the edge.
“That’s it,” he murmured between strokes. “Scream for me like the needy little slut you are.”
You tried to resist, to stay bratty and defiant, but it was impossible. The pleasure was too intense, his dominance too overwhelming. With a final, desperate cry, you came, your body trembling as the orgasm crashed over you.
He didn’t let up, his tongue working you through the aftershocks, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were a shaking, gasping mess. Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening with your arousal, a satisfied smirk on his face.
He stood up from his knees, his eyes dark with a mix of triumph and raw lust. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was on you again, his hands rough as they grabbed your wrists and pulled you toward the desk beside you.
“You think we’re done?” he growled, his voice filled with cruel amusement. “Not even close.”
You tried to muster some defiance, but the intensity of the situation left you breathless. “You’re such an asshole,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky.
“And you’re about to learn just how much of an asshole I can be,” he replied, pushing you forward so that your upper body was bent over the desk. His hands were on your hips.
Wooyoung didn’t waste any time. You heard the rustle of his clothes as he freed himself, and then you felt the blunt pressure of his cock against your entrance. He didn’t bother with gentleness; he thrust into you in one brutal motion, making you cry out.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his grip on your hips bruising as he started to move, setting a punishing pace. “Bet you love being fucked like this, don’t you?”
You tried to hold onto some semblance of control, to maintain your defiance. “Go to hell,” you spat, though the words were weak, almost drowned out by the sounds of his relentless thrusts.
Wooyoung laughed, a dark, mocking sound. “Already there, sweetheart,” he replied, his hips snapping against yours with a brutal rhythm. “And you’re fucking coming with me.”
Each thrust was rough and demanding, pushing you closer to the edge with a ruthless efficiency. You could feel the desk digging into your skin, but the pleasure was overwhelming, making it hard to focus on anything else.
“Such a dirty little slut,” he murmured, leaning over you so that his breath was hot against your ear. “Can’t even form a proper sentence, can you?”
You tried to respond, but all that came out was a broken moan. Wooyoung’s pace quickened, his thrusts growing even more forceful, and you felt the pressure building again, a coil tightening inside you. Wooyoung felt your tight walls pulsing around his cock.
“You’re going to come for me again, aren’t you?” he taunted, his voice low and rough. “Say it.”
“I—” you gasped, trying to fight the pleasure, but it was useless. “I’m going to—”
“That’s right,” he cut you off, his tone filled with dark satisfaction. “Come for me, you filthy brat.”
The words pushed you over the edge, and you came with a loud cry, your body trembling as the orgasm ripped through you. Wooyoung didn’t let up, his thrusts relentless as he chased his own release.
“Look at you,” he said, his voice filled with contempt and desire. “So desperate and needy. Pathetic.”
He pulled out suddenly, leaving you empty and aching. Before you could process the loss, he was moving you again, his hands rough as he pushed you toward the bed. You stumbled, falling onto the mattress, and he was on you in an instant, flipping you onto your back.
“Think you can handle more?” he asked, his eyes dark and challenging.
You nodded, too breathless to speak, your body already craving the next wave of pleasure.
“Good,” he said, positioning himself between your legs.
He entered you again, the angle different but no less brutal. Your hands clutched at the sheets, trying to anchor yourself as he pounded into you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge once more. He took your thigh and pressed it against your chest, thrusting deeper.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, his grip on your thigh hard enough to leave marks. “Such a perfect little slut for me.”
The pleasure was overwhelming, turning your mind into a hazy blur. You could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words, as he fucked you with a relentless intensity, pouring all the rage from earlier into it.
“Can’t even talk, can you?” he mocked, his voice filled with cruel amusement. “Too dumb from getting fucked by my cock.”
You tried to respond, but all that came out was a series of incoherent moans. Wooyoung’s thrusts grew even more forceful, and you felt the pressure building again, another orgasm threatening to crash over you.
“You’re going to come again,” he said, his tone commanding. “And you’re going to scream my name when you do.”
You shook your head, trying to hold onto some shred of defiance, but it was useless. The pleasure was too much, too overwhelming. With a final, brutal thrust, you came, your body arching off the bed as the orgasm tore through you, as you screamed his name.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. He continued to move, his pace never faltering, pushing you through the aftershocks and into another wave of pleasure.
By the time he finally came, his release hot and overwhelming inside you, you were a trembling, incoherent mess. He pulled out slowly, leaving you breathless and spent on the bed.
“See?” he said, his voice filled with mocking satisfaction. “All you needed was to be put in your place.”
You glared at him weakly, the fire of your anger not completely extinguished despite the overwhelming pleasure. “I still hate you,” you managed to say, though your voice was weak, more breathless.
“And I still hate you too,” he replied, his expression hard. “But at least now you know what happens when you push me too far.”
The room was filled with the tension of your unresolved hatred, the physical release doing nothing to ease the animosity between you. As you lay there, trying to catch your breath and regain some sense of composure, one thing was clear: the war between you and Wooyoung was far from over, but for now, you had been thoroughly defeated.
————————
Outside Wooyoung’s room, Yunho, San, Mingi, and Yeosang were still gathered, exchanging knowing glances and quiet laughter as they waited for the inevitable explosion of another argument. However, when the first loud moan echoed through the door, their expressions changed from amusement to shock.
“Did you just hear that?” San asked, eyes wide, looking at the others for confirmation.
“Yeah, I definitely heard something,” Yunho replied, raising an eyebrow. “That didn’t sound like an argument.”
Mingi covered his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. “I think they’re… uh… working things out in a different way.”
Yeosang’s eyes widened as another, louder moan filtered through the door, followed by a string of incoherent words. “Oh my god, they’re really going at it,” he said, looking both amused and slightly horrified.
Yunho shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, this is unexpected.”
San smirked, nudging Yunho. “Guess our plan worked a little too well.”
Mingi couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. “Should we just… leave them to it?”
Yeosang nodded vigorously. “Yeah, I don’t think they need an audience for this.”
Yunho stood up, clapping his hands together. “Alright, everyone. Let’s give them some privacy. I think they’ve got enough to handle without us hanging around.”
San stretched, yawning dramatically. “Yeah, I could use a break from all the drama anyway.”
As they gathered their things, another particularly loud moan resonated through the door, making them all wince and then burst into laughter.
“Okay, that’s our cue to leave,” Mingi said, heading towards the front door.
“Maybe we should go get some ice cream or something,” Yeosang suggested. “Give them plenty of time to… sort things out.”
Yunho nodded, opening the door. “Good idea. I think we all need a break from this craziness.”
As they left the house, the moans and muffled sounds of pleasure faded into the background, replaced by the summer evening's quiet hum.
“You know, I always thought they’d kill each other before anything like this happened,” San said, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Guess there’s a fine line between love and hate,” Yunho chuckled.
“Or in their case, a very loud, very thin line,” Mingi added, laughing.
As they headed down the street, leaving Wooyoung and you to your privacy, the group couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. It seemed that locking you two up together had definitely brought some unexpected results.
#kpop imagine#kpop scenarios#kpop smut#ateez#ateez jongho#ateez yunho#ateez seonghwa#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#jung wooyoung#wooyoung smut#jung wooyoung smut#ateez wooyoung smut#ennemies to lovers#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez x reader#wooyoung x reader
1K notes
·
View notes