#bare face naked truth

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: Simon’s past, PTSD request(s): a first, some hard truths

Simon is a professional at quiet.

It's ingrained in him, a piece of his brain rewired from training to make his mass nearly invisible, depending on silence to stay alive.

Sometimes, he thinks he should make more of an effort to make noise at home. He should drag his heel, just barely, enough for a scuff or imbalance of his weight, to make a floorboard creak or groan. He should open doors in a rush, allowing locks and jams to click and clack, alerting whoever is on the other side to his presence.

But if he did, he wouldn't be able to do this, wouldn't be able to stand just outside Orion's room and watch you play peek-a-boo with him, hiding your face with your hands and then sliding them open, smiling so wide it makes his heart skip a beat.

"Where did he go?" You laugh from behind your palms, and reach down to tickle his belly, giggling. "There he is!" Ry is on a changing pad, on the floor (too big now for the changing table) naked except for a fresh nappy, beaming up at you like you're everything.

He and his son are in love with the same woman, he's afraid.

"Where did he go?" You make a show of looking for him, hiding behind your hands, unable to see the way Orion's eyes widen and dart around, clearly seeking your eye contact, before you squeal "there he is!" again and match him smile for smile.

He leans against the door frame, fully aware you still have no idea he's there, and pulls out his phone, desperate to immortalize as many moments as he can, filling his camera roll with pictures and videos of you and the baby so he'll have something to cling to when he's torn away by the next op.

"Where's my baby? Where did he go?" You feign looking around, turning your head from left to right, finally catching Simon out of the corner of your eye, looking from him to the camera, still smiling, sun shining across your face from the window. He smiles back, he can't help it. Once a foreign feeling on his face, now feels so natural when it comes to you. Orion kicks his feet impatiently, and you turn back with a gasp. "There he is!" You tickle him, again, and this time, when you giggle, he does too.

Your mouth drops open in shock, and you look at Simon wide eyed. "Oh my god. Did you hear that?" He practically drops his phone and goes to his knees at your side as you lean forward and blow a raspberry on the baby's belly, Orion giggling the whole time.

It hits him like a truck. He feels faint. The floor is uneven. His baby is laughing. The world tilts, and for the thousandth time since he ran into you on the sidewalk, everything looks different. He blinks back the burn behind his eyes as you pull Orion to your chest, kissing his cheek, cupping the back of his head.

"Say, daddy did you hear me? Did you hear me laughing?" You use a smaller voice, one trying to imitate a baby's, peals of bells ringing inside his head. He wraps an arm around you, pressing a kiss to Orion's head, breathing him in, and you lay your head against his chest with a thunk and a sigh. "I can't believe that just happened."

"I know." Orion gazes up at the two of you, eyes flicking back and forth, and you slide your fingers through his wispy hair. The lump in his throat dissipates, and he kisses your forehead. "Thank you." Thank you for this. For everything. For giving him a chance to have a family, for giving him a chance to show his son what a healthy home looks like, what love looks like. For it all.

Your draw back, finding him open and vulnerable, soft parts on display, unguarded. Your free hand cups his cheek, just as he's done countless of times to you. "For what?"

"For giving me everything."

Later, he’s on his back, lazily watching you in the bathroom from your bed as you brush your teeth and talk to your sister.

It’s been a week since you asked him to stay, since he held you through the night, and he’s hardly been back to his short term rental since.

You asked him about it, a few nights ago. Asked how close he lived, since he was back and forth so often, or if he had been making a trek. Wondered how never found him, if he was in the area. The guilt was rife on your face, and anxious to alleviate it, he told you the truth.

“Got a short term flat down the street after I ran into you. Wanted to be close.” You jerk back in his grasp, unbelieving. “My… friend, a bloke I work with, lives in this neighborhood. That’s how I ended up at the bar that night. Sometimes I would crash at his place.”

“You rented a place, to be close to us?”

“Of course I did, mama. Y’really think I was just going to leave you here all alone?”

“I miss her.” You roll into bed from your knee, and he hooks an arm over your waist to tug you into his chest, closing the gap. There’s something soothing about covering the back of your head, your skull, with his palm, fingers splayed in every direction like he’s holding a ball.

He tells himself it’s not because of the dreams. The ones he has where he finds you dead face down in a scarlet red puddle, shot execution style, and Orion missing. Certainly not.

“Who?”

“My little sister.” You snuggle closer, nose to his neck, and he closes his eyes, reveling in each second, counting them slowly.

“Where is she?” You sigh.

“Seville.” Spain? “I used to live there, and she visited once. Fell in love with it. It’s where she goes for school.”

“You lived in Spain?” You nod, sleepily. Feeding Orion always wrings you out, and it was the last thing you did before getting ready for bed.

"Yeah, I used to kind of, float around. Lived in Venezuela briefly too, once. Morocco, Cameroon, Berlin-" Your name is a shredded ribbon from his lips, confused and curious, wrapped up into a jumble of syllables.

“For… fun?”

"I got antsy after uni. Didn't want to just stick around where I grew up, I wanted to do stuff. See stuff. So, I kind of... took off." Of course you did. You might be a kitten, but you're still curious, smart. Bright eyed and enchanted by the world. You probably had a wonderful time running around across the globe. "I'd like to take Orion traveling, you know? Make sure he sees the world, or some of it at least. I'm trying to believe you can still experience life even though you have a baby. Like you can experience life... with your child, right?" His jaw clenches so tight his ears pop. You had big, beautiful wings-

how was he going to clip them?

“Simon?” His name brings him back to earth, to where you're curled up in his arms, warm and soft and safe. He sighs. The conversation looms like a reaper over him, a big, ugly storm brewing on the horizon.

"Let's talk about the travel for when he can at least eat solid food, alright?" The placation burns like acid in his stomach, and you press a kiss to his neck.

“Alright.” He takes a very deep breath.

“But… we do need to talk about something, mama.” Your brow furrows.

“Talk about what?” He doesn’t like the way his heart feels in his chest, a rock sinking to his stomach.

“There’s a lot… you don’t know, honey. A lot about me, and my job.” You stay loose, but pull away to get a better look at him in the glow your bedside table.

“Okay…” It’s meant to prompt him, to lead him to the next step, the one where he starts talking, but the words are frozen in his throat. “Hey,” you dip into his line of sight. “Simon. What is it?” The truth starts to burn. It smolders until it becomes a full flame, spilling out of his mouth, scorching everything in his path. You.

“My family was killed because of me.” You jerk away like he’s slapped you, eyes wide.

“W-what?” Your voice shakes, and he doesn’t blame you.

“My mother, my brother, his son and his wife, they… they died. Because of me.”

“I don’t understand.” Of course you don’t. Why would you?

“It… it doesn’t make sense to start from the middle, so I’d like to tell you… about my life, and my… experiences, if you’re open to listening.” He wanted to hold you for this, wanted to feel your pulse beating beneath his thumb, but you’ve created physical distance, and he doesn’t want to push you. He has to believe he won’t lose you. He doesn’t even want to think about what he might do if you tried to leave. “Please.” His voice cracks, and you nod, timidly.

“Okay, Simon.”

At the end of it all, you’re silent. Shell shocked. Sitting up in bed, sheets pooled around your waist, you stare him, your breathing short and staccato. He reaches for you, trying to bring you comfort, trying to pull you into himself where you would be safe, and loved and held, but Orion starts to cry, fussy, hungry sharp wail piercing the silence, and you tumble out of bed for the door-

leaving him alone in the dark.

[nezuscribe]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞?

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

part two of wanna be yours

summary: the aftermath of you and your husband's arranged marriage, but the better side of it. gojo satoru just loves you so much, that he's willing to bring down armies just for you

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, very brief misunderstandings but they work it out, eating out (fem!reciving), fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, he doesn’t pull out

word count: 6k

note: part two is finally done! and i think this is gonna be the last installment for this so don't ask for another part bc i will cry. as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading, she's the loml <3

jjk masterlist

there were a few things that changed after your night with satoru. 

as he promised, he got a bigger bed for his room. he promptly ordered all your things to be moved in with his, and it didn’t take long for all your belongings to melt with his. it was different from what you were used to, but you welcomed those nights when you’d curl into his chest, tracing patterns on his bare skin as his fingers ran up and down your back as he listened to you speak. 

mornings you would find him littering kisses all over your naked body, or you’d find him in between your legs, waking you up in his own unique (much appreciated) way. satoru was insatiable and you couldn’t find a bone in your body to deny him.

he smiled more, his eyes bright as he woke up to your cheek smushed into his pecs on other mornings, not wanting to wake you up as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and pulled you closer to his body. 

everybody around you two talked in hushed tones whenever you’d pass by, obvious confusion laced in their tones, but somewhat glad to see the tension between you and your husband had simmered down. 

“he seems happier,” suguru told you one day as you leaned over the balcony, watching satoru spar with one of his men, your arms crossed over the railing as you glanced over at the man. 

“really?” you felt a faint smile tug at your cheeks as you tried to contain yourself. 

he hummed, his back to the railing, his legs crossed. he was dressed in his clans’ colors, a black tunic embroidered with red stitching covering his chest. he had come around more often ever since the feast, and he seemed more open to talk to you. 

the winds were picking up, the seasons were changing. it had been weeks since your night with him, but it felt like a lifetime had passed since then. satoru spent less time training and fighting, making as much time for you as he possibly could. you had your chair moved so that you could sit next to him during dinners, and in his free time he’d take you around the land on your horse, his face relaxed and gleaming whenever you’d turn around to look at him.

“well,” he turned to look over his shoulder, looking down at satoru, his white hair turning into a blur as he rhythmically and methodically moved, evading the wooden swords’ jabs with the agility only a seasoned fighter could have, “not right now. i think he’s trying to show off.” you snorted, rolling at your eyes at his statement (which was most likely the truth) and continued to watch him spar. sometimes you forgot of satoru’s rank amongst the other men, and watching him in this sort of state reminded you just how much he must have picked up on those years spent apart. 

“i’m happy for you two,” he said after a beat of silence passed, offering you a genuine smile as he said it. he was usually more stoic than your husband, never giving too much information off from his face unless it was absolutely necessary, and catching him in these moments would always startle you. 

“thank you,” you murmured, heat blossoming across your cheeks and neck as you kept your stare focused on your husband, not wanting to come off as too giddy. truth be told, you’ve never felt happier. 

you couldn’t remember the last time you woke up with a smile and slept with one on your face. every day it seemed that satoru was trying to win your love in different ways. he was so different from what you had seen from him the last few months, but just like the old satoru you remembered. he was teasing, always finding ways to make you laugh. 

“he told you he was going to be gone for a bit, yeah?” suguru readjusted his hair, making it so that it didn’t keep flying into his face. you nodded, holding tightly onto your clothes in hopes of preserving more heat. 

“yes,” you blew some hot air into your hands as you rubbed them together, “he said you’d be going with him.” 

“he’ll be needing as much help as he can get where he’s going,” suguru murmured, but didn’t try to hide his words as he tapped his fingers on his wrist. 

“what does that mean?” you balanced your elbows on the stone railing beneath you, brows furrowed as he shrugged nonchalantly.  

“he didn’t tell you what it was for?” if satoru was one who wasn’t above gossip then suguru was one who stirred it up. 

“he said it was a meeting with one of the eastern clans,” you say, rubbing yourself. your nose was freezing. suguru nodded, which made you feel a little more at ease. 

“did he tell you why?” you shook your head, indifferent as you looked back at your husband. he was shaking hands with the poor kid who went against him, barely breaking a sweat as he threw his sword to the side, a wide smile on his face as he looked up at you. 

“business,” you murmur, not quite giving him your full attention anymore because satoru was walking near where you were standing, craning his neck to look up at you as he grinned. 

“is he bothering you?” he called out, his chest moving up and down with labored breaths. he tried to make it seem like sparring didn’t take anything out on him and you nodded, smiling back at him. 

“i’m about to throw him off!” you called down, leaning on the railing as you gripped it tightly to ensure your balance and satoru gleamed, suguru scoffing at the interaction. 

“did you see me fighting?” he asked, and you wanted to chuckle at his words, the hopeful smile on his face as he wiped at his nose, the cold getting to him as well. 

“you fought very valiantly!” and suguru thinks that without your words and your praise, satoru would be a mess, not able to function. he wasn’t sure how he did it months without it, because he doesn’t seem to live without it.

his cheeks flush a cute pink, and you want to bottle up the way his smile grows.

“you two make me sick.” he groaned, pushing himself off the railing as he made his way inside, throwing you a playful wink as he shut the doors. the sun was beginning to set and you could see the bits of night peaking through the sky. 

you watched as satoru disappeared through the stairs, likely coming up to see you and you drummed your fingers on your arm as thoughts traveled through your mind. 

despite his playful tone, suguru’s words left a bitter taste on your tongue. even as satoru found you, pulling you close to him as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips you couldn’t get it out of your mind. he led you back inside, talking nonstop about what his men needed to improve on, but your mind began going blank.

---

dinner that night was just as it always was, but you still couldn’t find it in yourself to push past what you’d been told earlier. 

“i’m thinking of having a winter feast during the solstice,” satoru said, drinking his wine as his fingers played with yours, running down the skin of your palm as he absentmindedly pressed his thumb to the back of your hand. 

“sounds good,” you said, not quite listening as you pushed some potatoes around your plate. you should have gotten past this awkwardness to talk to him about these things, but that must have just been wishful thinking. 

“this year seems to be colder than the last, so i’ll ask shoko to see if she can bring back some furs from her clan.” he continued, oblivious to your state of being. 

“okay,” you blankly said, giving him

a short glance only to see him in his own world, plotting. 

“i’ll have one of the southern tribes see if they can bring any pomegranates in, and…” he trailed off, noticing your stare boring into the table. his fingers squeezed yours, bringing your attention to him. 

“are you alright?” he asked, and you quickly nodded, plastering on a false smile as you picked up your spoon, wringing your hand out of his. 

“mhm!” you scooped some vegetables into your mouth, spending an excessive amount of time chewing as you felt his eyes bore into the side of your face. 

he didn’t seem convinced in the slightest, a brow raising at your strange behavior. if you were trying to be funny you had an odd way of showing it. 

“do you feel sick?” he moved closer, his hands finding your forehead, pressing against your cheeks as he felt for your temperature. 

you gently pushed his hand away, holding his wrist as your feet moved quickly in anxiousness. 

this should be easier than you made it out to be. 

he looked worried, finger itching to feel you again despite your silent pleas. it was second nature for him to care about you. if he didn’t spend half the time hopelessly in love with you, he spent the other half hoping that you were doing alright. he wanted only the best for you, and vehemently tried to make up for the months he didn’t do so. 

“no, i feel fine. but,” you sighed, rubbing at your eyes as he patiently waited for you to find your words. you knew he wouldn’t lie to you, he didn’t have the ability to, but the way suguru spoke to you made it seem like there was something he wasn’t telling you, “why are you leaving? i feel as though,” you swallowed thickly, “as though i don’t fully know why.”

satoru sat back in his chair, his eyes squinting as he looked at you. it’s not like he didn’t like being asked things, but normally you didn’t seem this apprehensive about talking to him. he welcomed your queries, answering them to the best of his abilities, but he couldn’t remember the last time you seemed this nervous to talk to him about something. 

and he knew that he should have told you this before you asked, but he put it off. his fingers ran through his hair as he breathed deeply through his hair. 

“it’s with one of the eastern clans,” he started, taking another sip of his wind as his hands found yours again, as if he couldn’t breathe without having you near in some way, “do you remember that girl, the one from the feast?” 

despite him not being very specific, there was only one memorable girl from that feast. the one that he disappeared with four half an hour before he came back. your jaw clenched, nodding stiffly as you moved in your seat. he noticed your shift in emotions, trying to hide his own as he continued.

“i told you what she had tried to do, hm?” satoru seemed a bit awkward in his wording, and if it were in any other case it probably would have made you laugh. but you can only nod again, his words nothing new. he had told you about it after he spent the night with you, answering your questions as to why he had left with her. 

you could barely remember her name, but you distinctly recalled what satoru had said about her. how she had tried to come onto him, how he had forced her off. you hadn’t seen her around since, but that didn’t mean that she hadn’t fully stopped making her way into your mind at random times during the day.

“ i had her clan cut off from trading with ours.”

if you were expecting any response it definitely wasn’t that. 

“…what?” you gave a startled laugh, blinking as you tried to make sense of what he had just said. 

he shrugged as if it didn’t mean much, as if that was the least that was expected of him. 

“that’s why our import of sweet potatoes and eggplants has been lower than usual. but it’s alright, i’ve already ordered for the seeds to be planted in our garden. her father is seething at the moment, it’s why i have to go see them.” he cut away at some meat, glancing at you as a smile was forcing its way onto his lips. he kept it down, watching for your reaction. 

you swallowed thickly, a feeling growing in your chest as you glanced up at him, only to find him staring back at you, a little smile on his face. 

“she had the nerve to ask to be a concubine. i’m only hoping that in this meeting we’re able to get some more of their silk imports in, it shouldn’t take too long.” 

you couldn’t find any words to respond with, but could feel a smile growing on your own face. you were the more compassionate one out of the two of you but hearing this felt like a whole different experience. 

“that’s,” you tried to hide your giddy feelings, “new.” 

satoru rolled his eyes, hooking his hands underneath your chair to pull you closer to him if it was even possible. 

“and well deserved,” he commented, kissing your cheeks as you laughed softly, his lips soft against your skin as they found their way into the places he knew you loved most. 

you tried to push him away, feeling embarrassed at the guards that stood by the door, knowing they were able to see all of this happen before them. 

“suguru was telling me about it,” you felt his hands shift, lifting you over the armrest, his strength godly as he shifted you to sit on his lap, “i just thought that something else had come up.”

gojo hummed against your skin, your dinner promptly forgotten behind you as his nose nudged at your jaw, “yeah, like what?” he enjoyed hearing your shuddering breaths, the way your fingers automatically went to tangle themselves in his soft hair. 

“i-i don’t know,” you felt weak from being breathless from so little, and we’re glad your back was to the men behind you, “but definitely not that.” 

“it was the least i could do,” he said, “i wanted her banished but my advisors warned against it. said it would cause too much chaos,” his eyes flicked to yours, inviting, challenging, “as if i wouldn’t go to war for you.” 

you felt the air in your lungs squeeze out, your hands gripping his shoulders, anything to bring you back to reality as his tongue poked at his cheek, debating some things in his head.

“out,” he spoke, loudly now so that the guards could hear, his voice commanding and starkly different from how he talked to you, “get out.” 

while he liked showing you off, but there were things only meant for his eyes and his ears.

you could hear them shuffling to leave, looking over your shoulder as you giggled at their hurried movements, the door shutting behind them as they left you and satoru alone in the dining hall. 

you turned back to him, his eyes twinkling in the faint candlelight, his hands running across your back, up and down your arms as you shifted across his lap, your clog rubbing on his hard-on as he sucked in a deep breath. 

 “you’d go to war for me?” you teased, your sweet breath fanning across his lips as his tongue poked out, his eyes glazing over as he scoffed at your ridiculous question. his hands settled on your waist, your skirts hitching upwards. 

“i’d do anything for you,” he whispered against your lips, hovering above them as his eyes held yours, “if you told me you wanted me to ransack that clan dry i’d do it.” though he was a joking sort of person, you knew his words were nothing but the truth. 

if you wanted, he’d burn down villages for you. he’d make sure that when the stories were written, your name came first. he wanted the masses to know that he was yours and that his every waking moment was spent in your presence. 

satoru was sure the stars were shifting to accommodate for the two of you, and that it would only take years before he’d look up to see you there with him, splattered across the night sky.

“as much as i’d like you to,” you kissed his neck, enjoying the way he writhed beneath you, knowing that only you had the luxury of seeing him like this, “i wouldn’t want any spillage of blood to be traced back to me. i’d like for you to come home alive.” it’s not as if you doubted his talents, nor his strength, you doubted others. 

“i’ll always find my way back to you,” he promised, tilting his head to catch your lips in a searing kiss. 

it was slow, as if he wanted to savor every moment with you. satoru was cheeky, smiling whenever he’d pull slightly away to hear your sweet whines. your fingers tugged at his hair, warning him to stop. 

his tongue pushed its way into your mouth, and it didn’t take long before the kisses turned sloppy, spit staining your chin as you slowly move your body up and down on his. 

“you drive me to shambles,” he said against your lips, a train of spit connecting the two of you together, and it was sinful the way he looked right now. lips rosy and plump, his hair messy and his smile cocky. 

“me?” you ask slyly, coyly moving up and down his dick, enjoying the way he sucked in a breath through his teeth, his fingers digging into your ass as you tilt your head to the side, “really?” 

his hands hiked up your skirt so that it bushed around your thighs, his fingers pressing against your heat as he felt the dampness seeping through your underwear, his own victorious grin plastered on his face. 

“really,” he confirmed, grabbing a hold of your wrist as he guided it to his bulge, watching your eyes gloss over, your pupils widening at the feeling of him, never really getting used to just how big satoru was. 

his finger hicked your underwear to the side, letting it sink into your warm walls, your eyes rolling back, your slick staining his skin as he brought it out, tapping your lips as he motioned for you to open your mouth. 

you did, watching as he pushed his finger in, his eyes darkening at the way you closed your lips around him, sucking him hard as you tasted yourself on him, your hips shifting to ease your aching clit. 

“taste yourself? see why i can’t get enough of you?” he prompts and you slowly nod, not breaking eye contact with him as he feels pride swell in his chest, as well as something else a little bit lower. 

“see how i can’t get enough of you?” you ask, motioning towards his hand, and he chuckles darkly, drawing his finger out as he presses a short kiss to your lips, taunting you.

“be patient,” he murmured, fully enthralled with the way your tongue moved around him, his dick straining against his pants, painful as it wanted to be let free. you could feel him twitch beneath you, growing harder, if it was even possible. 

he couldn’t even be patient himself.

“then hurry up,” you whisper, biting his ear as he groans, pushing all of the silverware and cups out from behind you, lifting you up by your thighs as he made room for you on the table, setting you down as he settled in between your legs. 

he pushed down on your chest and you followed his movements, laying down on the table, your chest heaving up and down, the feeling something you’ve never experienced before. sex with satoru was unlike anything human, and he always left you with a taste of wanting more. 

your top fell loosely against your shoulder, almost undone from all of his ministrations, and some of the wine from his cup had spilled, soaking your white fabric red. it was hard to come out of this dining hall without hiding what had happened inside. 

his hand fisted the top that covered your chest, yanking it off with a swift motion, tearing it off of you in a split second. you didn’t have time to scold him for ruining yet another one of your shirts, taking in the way his breath came out in little puffs at the sight of your naked breasts. 

“‘toru!” you yelled, swatting his hands away as you groaned, looking at what was now rags, not knowing how you were going to be able to leave this dining hall with your dignity intact. 

“what?” he looked as if he truly had no idea why you’d be mad, and then looked at the remains of your top, sheepishly scratching at his jaw as he leaned down to peck at the corner of your lips, and you begrudgingly let him. 

“‘m sorry,” he whispered against your lips, but he didn’t really sound like it, “i’ll cover you in my robes, yeah?” you rolled your eyes, flicking at his forehead. he whined, back caught your hand, kissing just above your wrist as he winked at you. you could never stay mad at him for too long because he knew just what to do to make you forget about it.

“you owe me a new one, alongside the four other ones you’ve ruined so far,” you say, eyeing it with a hefty sigh. satoru nodded insistently, his hands wandering down your torso as he got himself distracted. his hands were so large, and you would never get tired of the way he looked at you.

“how ‘bout i make it up to you, hm?” and you didn’t have any restraint in you as you nodded slowly, knowing that you were the only person who could make him like this, the only person who could have the gojo satoru in such a vulnerable and loving way.

he began bunching up your skirt once again, sinking down to his knees as your back arched off of the table, using your elbow to stabilize yourself as your head tilted backward at the feeling of his fingers pushing past your walls. 

your underwear was thrown to the side, disregarded as his tongue poked at your entrance, his thumb flicking over your sensitive nub, knowing just the way to make you go crazy. he slurped up all you had to offer, the sounds too much for you to handle, cheek heating up. 

he took his time, wanting to make you feel every pleasurable feeling known to man as he ate you out. you would never get tired of the way he could reach that spongy spot inside of you that your fingers never could. 

“you taste like so fucking sweet,” satoru’s eyes found yours, glinting as his nose nudged at your clit. it was too much, the way he ate you like he had never tasted anything better. he hadn’t and he was sure that sin was below you. 

his other hand found your tits, palming them, squeezing at the flesh as he rubbed at your nipples, hardening against him as you whined, fisting the tablecloth beneath you as you panted, it was just so hard to get used to this. 

“f-fuck, ‘toru, please…” you could barely muster up any words, his thumb swiping at your clit in a delicious way, his tongue prodding at your walls. 

“please what?” he teased, enjoying the way he could make you unravel, the way that nobody else could hear the way you’d sing just for him. 

“faster, mhh, shit!” you liked the way he obediently listened to you, his tongue and fingers moving per your request, and you felt your stomach clenching, your release threatening to come at any moment.

it was embarrassing just how fast he could bring you to this sort of state, but he reveled in it. he knew what you liked and disliked, how to tease you to make you cry even louder for him. he was a master in everything he did, and he wasn’t one to fail. 

“who does this to you?” he asked, knowing he was fucking you dumb even without his cock. 

“y-you, you ‘toru,” you couldn’t look at him, everything hot as sweat dotted at your forehead, “only you.” 

a cheshire grin found its way onto his face. 

“come on, know you can do it,” he pushed you further, his fingers joining his tongue, and it was just too much, prodding at the place that made you see stars. he looked just as wrecked as you, with your own essence smeared all over his chin, mixing with his spit, but he couldn’t have had it any other way. 

“‘m ‘gonna…fuck, ‘toru, i’m ‘gonna come…” you breathed out, and it didn’t take long till you did. 

the feeling was unlike any other, your walls clamping around him, your release gushing out, your stomach clenched, and your back arched, spasming around his fingers. he didn’t stop until he was sure you had ridden out your orgasm, watching the beautiful way your tits moved up and down with your every breath, the way the light bounced off your skin. you were a heavenly being and nothing you told him could convince him otherwise. 

he slowly stood up, his hands finding purchase on your hips as he gently pulled you closer to the edge of the table, giving you some time to come back down to earth as he slowly tapped his fingers on the expanse of your naked skin.

“you good?” you groaned, hitting his chest lightly as he chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked more at you. he was so sure that the love he held in his chest was going to seep out that it made him worried, knowing that others could love you the same way, selfishly wanting you just to himself.

“you’re so annoying,” you say, rubbing at your face, eyeing the bulge in his pants, feeling your mouth salivate at the sight. 

“you love it though,” and you couldn’t even argue because you did. you loved all the little things about him, the things he hid away from the public eye and saved just for you. it reminded you that he was yours and you were his and nothing was ever going to change it. 

“i put up with it,” you say, watching him pout, his white hair all messy and his cheeks rosy. 

“you’re so mean,” he whined, but only kissed the tip of your nose as he said it. his swift fingers made use of unbuttoning the buttons of his pants, hooking a finger around them as he tugged it down, his cock springing free as it hit his chest. 

he was long, curving to the right. his dick was pretty, just like the rest of him, and you would never get tired of seeing it flushed red, leaking pre as he shuddered against the cold, biting air. his mushroomed tip was aching to push past your walls, and you obliged him, slowly moving so that your hands found him. 

he sucked in a breath as your fingers wrapped around his length, expertly moving up and down in a teasing manner, your thumb swiping at his head as his pre stained your skin. his chest was moving in a crazed pattern, as if his lungs weren’t working properly, and he watched as your hands moved up and down, up and down. 

“s-stop, i don’t want to,” he scrambled before he embarrassed himself and finished from just your hands, tugging your fingers away from his aching cock as you looked up at him through your lashes, knowing just what made him go crazy for you. 

“hurry up ‘toru, i need you sooo bad,” you whined, your voice laced with something that made him lose all sense of control, and he quickly nodded, his hands gripping your thighs as he tugged you closer to himself. 

it would have been easier if he had you perched on the table with your back to him, but he couldn’t risk not being able to see your face, the way your mouth opened and your eyes squeezed shut, so he lined himself up with your entrance instead, knowing this was the only way he could fuck you. 

his dick prodded at your entrance, his bulbous head pushing past your walls that were still tight, squeezing him as he slowly inched your forehead, the two of you moaning in unison at the snug fit. 

“shit, you’re so tight, how,” his lip caught between his teeth, and his eyes flickered over to yours, “how are you so tight?” his grip on your hips was bruising, but you welcomed the marks, loving the fact that when you woke up the two of you would carry each other on your skin.

“stop talking ‘toru,” your hands hooked around his neck, tugging him in closer as your lips slotted against his, your teeth clashing as your pussy fluttered against him, your noses rubbing against each other, “fuck me…please.” 

and he did, pushing all of himself in, and your head tipped backward at the sting, gripping onto his arms as he let you adjust to his size, his cock twitching in your heat, and his jaw clenched, refraining himself from moving just yet. 

when you gave him the nod to move he slowly inched out, his dick shining in the light, before he slammed himself back in, your cries filling the vast space as he began to fuck you the way he wanted, his lips finding your neck as you thrust your hips against his. 

it was always delirious when the two of you fucked, your bodies meeting at one point that drove each of you to your own euphoria. satoru tried to be slow and gentle, but after a bit, he couldn’t anymore, picking up his pace as his head kept hitting your g spot. 

“love you s’much ‘toru,” your fingers curled in his hair, your other hand scratching lines down his back as the squelching sound resonated around you, “f-fuck-” he cut you off with a chaste kiss, dropping his head to your breasts as he sucked at them, positioning himself in and out of you with all his strength. 

“i know, i know sweetheart,” he murmured against your spit soaked skin, rubbing gently at the marks he left, “i’m yours, all for you,” he promised, his thumb finding your clit as he swiped at it, enjoying the way you mewled for him to go faster. 

your eyes fall all over his naked skin, at the way sweat dots on both of your bodies, and the way satoru can’t contain his moans and whines when he sinks in and out of you. the sounds he makes are for you only, and you want to damn anybody who longs to hear them too. 

“you feel s’good,” you kiss at his chest, his tunic slipping down him as the buttons and knots become undone, your fingers tugging them down so you could have more area to kiss and suckle at, “s’big ‘toru.” 

he loves how your voice gets breathy, the way you can’t keep your hands to yourself and can barely formulate a thought. he fucks you like he hates you, but that’s only because he doesn’t know how else to show you just how much you mean to him. 

“yeah? this dick makes you dumb?” you nod helplessly, feeling like you were going to go insane with the way his veins dragged alongside your walls, at the way your pussy was molding to the shape of him. 

“yes!” you cried out, nails digging into his skin, and he encouraged you to leave more lines, knowing that once he had to take off his shirt for training and the men around his eyes the scratches on his back they’d know who left them. 

“are you ‘gonna come? come with me, know you want to,” his hips are shuttering as if he can barely keep his release at bay, “know you can sweetheart,” and you whine even louder, his thumb relentlessly attacking your clit as your legs wrap tightly around him, keep him from straying too far away from your body. 

“mhh fuck, ‘toru m’gonna, fuck…!” you felt your release come before you could even stop yourself, spasming around his dick as you wailed, creaming around his dick as the tablecloth bunched beneath you, the wine spilling everywhere as your husband came just seconds after you. 

you felt his hot release in you, your walls hugging him in as your eyes rolled back, white dotting your vision as he pumped himself inside of you, keeping his dick in for a little while longer. your orgasm was so powerful that you wondered if you were going to be able to walk after this, feel yourself pulse around nothing as satoru slowly pulled himself out of you, his cum seeping out and sticking to your doughy thighs. 

it was a mess; wine and cum everywhere, but your laughter slowly filled the heated room, laughing at the entire prospect of this. 

“what?” he nudged at your jaw, kissing your cheekbones as he smiled at the sound, “was that not to your liking?” 

you snorted, shaking your head as your legs dropped from his waist, leaning back on your hands as you looked around, taking in the mess as you heaved out a sigh, knowing that there definitely wasn’t any way to hide what you had done now. especially since you were sure that anybody within a twenty-foot radius could have heard you as well. 

“it was fine,” you teased, watching him huff in annoyance because the two of you knew that it was far from fine. 

“just fine?” he asked, scooping a finger into your pussy, watching the way your head fell onto his shoulder, smearing his cum around just for extra measure, chuckling to himself when he felt you lightly bite his skin. 

“you’re painfully full of yourself,” you comment, your skirt falling back down as it hid your fluttering pussy, making it seem as if he hadn’t just fucked you dumb seconds ago, and satoru tugged you closer to his chest, his hands sprawling across the naked expanse of your back. 

“only because i love you so much,” and he wasn’t lying, but you knew that his cockiness stemmed from himself. 

the two of you smiled, your rings shining and you looked out the window to see the moon up, a chill running through the curtains, ruffling them as it hit your skin and you shuddered. 

as if he suddenly remembered your top was ruined, now resembling cleaning rags, he shrugged off the robe that was resting on the back of his chair as he settled it across your chest, buttoning up the buttons for you as you let him work. 

it had some of his military rankings on it, a deep blue that resembled the clan's colors, and you instantly felt warmer in the wool. 

“‘toru?” you twirled some of his baby hairs around your fingers, your voice hoarse but soft. 

he looked up, feeling awestruck by the way you looked right now. he loved the glow you radiated after a round of him pounding into you, the way your skin was shining and you had a content look on your face, resonating deep within him.

“hm?” his thumb ran across your face, tracing your features as he did every night, committing them to memory. 

“come home safe,” you whispered, lashes fluttering against your cheeks as you held his unoccupied hand in yours, your fingers cradling his larger ones, “don’t do anything stupid, please.” 

he went to make a joke but stopped himself when he saw your serious stare, his mouth opening and then shutting until he nodded, smiling carefully, holding heavy emotions as he gave you a smaller, more understanding nod.

“okay,” he murmured, but you shook your head, not satisfied with his answer. 

“promise me,” and he hated and loved the fact that he couldn’t deny you anything. 

“i promise,” he whispered against your lips, bringing you closer as his tongue swiped against yours, your lips swollen and plush, just the way he liked it. 

and he held true to his promise, returning only a week later with a promise of no sort of war between the eastern clan. but according to suguru, your husband had shed off his clothes when he had to fight one of their men, everybody around him, including the girl, had seen the scratches and bruises you had left for him, 

just as he intended.

taglist: @chieeeeeee, @yxnjvnnie, @ladytamayolover, @iheartlinds

[tojisbbygworl]

The Apartment Across The Street - Sukuna x Reader

In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of the window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it.

Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.

Words: 6.7k

Tags - 18+ MDNI, No Use of Y/N, No Curses, Set in late 90s/early 00s, Smut, Angst, High Sex, Missionary, Degredation, Marijuana, Slight x Toji (I can't help myself)

WARNINGS - Dead Dove, Dark, Non-Con/Dub-con, Breaking and Entering, Sukuna and Toji are criminals, Sukuna's a hitman, Choking, Violence

AO3 Version

Masterlist

author's note: Heyyyy! Okay I went a little too hard like I always do so this is a bit long and (imo) it get's a little intense so be warned. I hope you enjoy hopefully I have some motivation to keep writing. art cred: @innaillus

That apartment used to be empty.

Sukuna hadn’t been home in a week. He doesn’t mind. He’s learned to not have too many hopes or expectations in this line of work. Besides, he prefers being his own boss. He accepts contracts when he needs money then he’s off until it runs out. Doesn’t matter if they take days or even weeks.

Shorter jobs like this one weren’t his treat. They don’t pay as much as he likes, but it works out. These apartments were a bit shitty, they didn’t cost too much. And, he was right in the middle of the city. Easy to meet clients. The clubs went on all night long. Which is exactly how late he was out when he was home. Actually, he was planning to go out tonight. Meet up with Toji and see if he can’t get a woman in his bed by 2 am.

He wondered how long it would take to see his newest neighbor. The way the apartments in the complex are built, you could easily see into your neighbor’s bedroom. 'State guidelines say blinds aren’t required. You buy them,' was the response he received when he brought the problem up to the landlord. A lot of people invested in curtains, maybe they hadn’t bought any yet. He saw a bed, but it seems to be the only thing they’ve managed to set up. There were a couple boxes with flaps wide open sitting beside it.

After a few more moments of rumination, he closed his curtain and laid down on his bed waiting for a text to come over. In truth, he couldn't wait to see who was unlucky enough to be his new window neighbor. The last one didn’t go too well. They also didn’t invest in curtains and he isn’t entirely sure if he’s the reason they moved out, but he’s sure they didn’t appreciate catching his stare multiple times a day. And that one time at midnight.

-

All it took was the next morning.

Sukuna’s eyes crept open and he stared towards the ceiling. The girl he brought home last night was dead asleep and naked on his chest. He yawned and wiped his face tiredly. He nudged the girl off of him a bit, then sat up on the side of his bed. Ugh, he felt like shit. Toji always went entirely too hard when they went out, but Sukuna doesn’t mind. He has nowhere to be. Nothing to do. 

He got up and stretched then walked to the bathroom. As he completed his morning routine, he pondered about what today would behold for him. This is another reason he hated short jobs. Sukuna loves free time, but only if there’s something to do with it. There never really is.

He could kill that girl in his bedroom. In fact, he could have killed any girl he brought home since he moved in half a year ago. But the last time he made his job his hobby, it didn’t go so well for him. It was too close of a call, and getting arrested for murder just isn’t worth it. He could spend a couple months in the pen, not years at a time.

He spat out his toothpaste. Life was so fucking mundane. He had no life goals, barely any friends, his little brother hates him, and he works alone. All things he doesn’t actually care about, but shit, when is he going to get some excitement? Nothing gets him going anymore.

He needs something that will make him feel. A drug of some sort? But that doesn’t seem right to him. Even now as he walks back in the room staring at the woman in his bed, he feels nothing. If she woke back up and decided she wanted to have sex with him, he would say yes, but only because it’s something to do. He’s not feeling any particular way about her.

The moment he sat back down on the bed, she started shifting around. A few seconds later, she lifts her head and yawns. “Good morning.” She giggles, she leans over and kisses his cheek. Sukuna grunts.

The girl looks around the dark room. “It is morning, right?” She doesn’t let him answer before she stands up and opens the curtains. “Oh wow,” she exclaims. “I can see directly into your neighbor’s room.” She says. He still doesn’t get up, just hums at her.

“She’s cute though.”

Sukuna perks up upon hearing that. “Oh yeah? I haven’t seen her yet. She’s new.”

This was the first time since they’ve met that she said something interesting, but unfortunately for him, she drops the subject immediately and walks back into bed, leaving the curtains open. Sukuna holds back his sigh. Does he really want to spend the rest of his morning with this girl? It was half past 8. Way too early.

“I'm going to start getting ready for work,” he says without skipping a beat. She stops in her tracks and blinks at him, clearly not expecting that. It’s silent for a few moments. Sukuna’s not sure what she’s waiting on, but if it’s for him to say he’s kidding or let her stay, she’s sorely mistaken.

“Oh, I thought you were contracted,” she says nervously.

‘I only work when I feel like it, gorgeous.’ Sukuna inwardly curses himself for his suave nature. “Yeah. I got a contract. In an hour.”

His curtness and annoyed expression did good to make her feel completely and totally unwanted. The girl awkwardly smiled at him. “Oh, ha ha. Yeah…okay.” Sukuna got up and walked out of the room. Give her a little space to feel like shit while she gets ready to leave. He makes himself a cup of coffee, his face still that same blank expression even after he hears her rushing out the door from behind him. When she’s gone he takes himself back into his room.

He walks up to his window to close the curtains once more until someone catches his eye. He freezes and his eyebrows shoot upwards. That girl was right. She was cute. And he had the perfect view of her. She seemed to be posing or checking herself out. Sukuna wasn’t sure which one it was, but he hoped she didn’t stop. That bikini she had on was doing wonders for her, and him.

Something was off. Looking at her made him…tense. His hands were gripping the curtains, he was biting the inside of his cheek, his leg was shaking; Was it anxiety? No, she’s not making him nervous. What he’s feeling is euphoric. He likes it. He wants to grip her bare waist and squeeze her until she bruises.

In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of her window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it. Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.

-

It doesn’t take long after that to finally meet her.

Before taking his most recent job, Sukuna had nearly consumed everything in his fridge. What was left was now finished and he spent a lot of his morning sulking at a half empty milk carton, his breakfast for the day. He hated eating out, it messed with his figure.

The local grocery wasn't too bad of a walk from his place, although he hated carrying everything back. He always bought a few necessities and a few ingredients to quickly whip something up for his dinner. Today, he’d have to bulk up if he doesn’t want to keep coming back.

As much as he hated the public, shopping never seemed to be a problem for him. He was tall and intimidating, he never smiled, he was always tense; people tended to avoid him like the plague. He appreciated it. But, as he enters the frozen meal aisle with his cart half full he wishes that just for a moment, he looked approachable. Then, this would be much easier.

There she was, in sweatpants and a cropped tube top, looking at the frozen pizzas. She looked like she had been home all day. She was much cuter now that he could see her better. A lot cuter. She’s pretty as hell.

Thank goodness, too. He already knew what her body looked like, what with her constantly taking pictures of herself in front of the window. She liked to play dress up, she would try on entirely different outfits before she was satisfied. Pretty soon, the colors of her bras and panties would be ingrained into his memory.

He stood there looking her up and down for a few more seconds before he started browsing once more. Although he really was looking for food he wanted, he used this opportunity to slowly get closer to her. He pretended to be interested in some frozen broccoli and he snuck a look at her. To his surprise, and enjoyment, she had done the same. When they made eye contact, she jerked and looked away. A couple moments after that, she grabbed her food and walked away into another aisle.

Sukuna chuckled to himself. She wouldn’t get away that easily. He dropped the broccoli in his cart and followed after her. He hadn’t seen which aisle she’d gone into, so he kept walking down and looking into each one until he found her trying to get some chips from a high shelf. He smiled upon seeing her struggle. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.

He managed to walk right up behind her and reach for the chips she was trying to get before she got startled. She gasped a bit and looked up at him. He looked down at her. Fuck, she was pretty. His heart started to pound, he could practically salivate at the idea of taking her home.

He hands her the chips before she can say anything, then walks away. Before he’s out of her sight he hears her say, “Thank you so much.”

Her cadence, the velvety softness of her voice; it made him want to drop to his knees. How sweet would she sound if he bit into her neck? How soft is her yelp when she stubs her toe? How shrill is her scream when she’s in pain?

Her appreciation made him stop in his tracks. He turned over his shoulder to look at her. She seemed nervous and her eyes were uncertain. Sukuna began to feel restless. So many ideas of what he could do to her if he got her alone were rushing through his mind and she was none the wiser. This aisle has been empty and no one has come by. He could take her right now.

Instead, he looks her up and down. “Yeah, sure.” And then he walks away with his shopping. He leaves wondering when next they’ll meet, she does the same as she watches his back.

-

“Still haven’t called the maintenance guy, huh? Lazy jackass.”

Sukuna turns his head to the side and glares at his unwanted guest. Toji may have been his best friend, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to break his fat neck and bury him in the park. Besides, that title meant jack shit. They met in jail and Toji helped him get on his feet when Sukuna’s sentence was up. Toji never really left him alone and Sukuna stayed because his family was rich. If anything, they were close acquaintances who had sex sometimes.

Speaking of Toji’s money, the asshole grew up in an affluent family which means his standards were a bit too high for the humble abode that Sukuna prefers. It was probably the most annoying part about him. He was complaining about the door to the bathroom. It didn’t close correctly so you had to force it shut. Something that just isn’t enough of a problem to be bothered to try and fix.

“Stop coming over if it annoys you so much,” Sukuna responds, taking another drag from their second blunt for the morning. He was finally starting to feel something from it and he didn’t want to hear Toji whining about bullshit.

“Nah, I think I’ll keep coming. Especially with your fine ass neighbor.” Toji walked away again, not seeing Sukuna’s head jerk towards him. What was he talking about? Sukuna didn’t tell him about her. Did he see her?

“Why the fuck are you in my room?” He gets up to follow behind him. Sukuna looks down the hallway and sees both his room and the bathroom doors wide open. The bathroom was empty. “Get out.”

He starts walking towards his room door but jumps back when Toji rushes out of it. “Come look at this,” he says, grabbing his arm.

Toji had this crazed grin on his face and he was tugging him along impatiently. “What the hell are you-” Sukuna’s words die in his throat as he gazes upon what had Toji so excited. It was his beautiful neighbor changing in front of her mirror again except, there was a big problem. She had never been completely naked before.

Holy shit, her body could stop a truck. Sukuna let his jaw drop. His eyes raked her from her breasts to her legs. She would turn around occasionally, walk back and forth in front of the window, oh he loved the way her tits bounced. He wanted her on top of him, his dick sliding in and out of her while he latched onto her nipple.

“She’s sexy as fuck, huh?” Sukuna’s unceremoniously snapped out of his trance by Toji’s comment. He turns his head towards him looking at his smile and twinkling eyes. “She do this all the time? Does she even know?” Toji gasps and looks him in the eye. “Does she do it on purpose?”

I’m that moment, a switch had flipped inside of Sukuna. Toji was watching her before he brought him in here. He saw her naked first. He shouldn’t have seen her at all. The warm swarm of butterflies in his abdomen had fluttered away, a feeling of rage building in his heart instead. She was Sukuna’s to look at, not Toji’s.

To answer his question, Sukuna shrugs. Then, they both turn towards her again only to make eye contact with her. They see her gasp, cover herself and shriek before running from the window. “Fuck,” they say in unison before shutting the curtain.

“I blame you for that,” Toji says despite both of them being at fault. He puts his hands in his pockets and walks out of the room. “Where’s the blunt?”

Toji may have forgotten about that little encounter, but Sukuna doesn’t think he can forget anytime soon. He hates that Toji got to see her like that. They still haven’t spoken more than once to each other, and now she knows he’s a pervert that stares at her through their windows. Sukuna scowls at the ground then slams his hand into the wall. She’ll leave soon just like the last one did, but this time, he doesn’t want to accept that as a possibility.

He gives himself time to calm down before joining Toji again. He can’t bring work home again.

-

It was over.

He saw her once after that incident. Waiting for Toji to pick him up for the night, he stood outside the local gas station smoking a cigarette. She’d been on his mind since. She invested in curtains, unfortunately. She was really uncomfortable. He’s not even sure if she’s left the apartment.

Thinking about what happened made him furious. If Toji hadn’t gone into his room he would have never seen her. Oh he just can’t shut the hell up about the shape of her ass and how he would let her suffocate him with her gorgeous thighs. Sukuna sighed, her thighs were gorgeous weren’t they?

She was a missed opportunity. There are so many ways he could have started something with her. It’s not like she didn’t like him, had they met again before that, he’s sure he could have gotten her number. Usually, missing out on a woman wasn’t that bothersome, but she was different for him. He looked forward to beating his dick under the windowsill while she tried on clothes. His imagination wasn’t bad, but by the time he came in his hands, his dick was red and sore and his arm was tired.

His memory is not enough. He wants her.

He looks at the time on his watch. A quarter ‘til midnight. He rolls his eyes. Toji’s always late. A quick snack is in order.

Sukuna mindlessly stares at the powdered donuts wondering if he really feels like fucking up his clothes and having dirty fingers. He hates club bathrooms, the one here is just as bad, and he doesn’t want to lick his fingers. Maybe he won’t. But right before he decides to leave, the door opens. He turns his head upon hearing the small ring of a bell, but doesn’t pay attention to the culprit until they’re in the same aisle. “Oh shit,” he said before he could stop himself.

He tries to look away before she notices, but it’s too late. He looks back at her and grimaces. The girl is shaken to her core. Poor thing is afraid. And while Sukuna feels a bit bad about making such a cutie so frightened, it kind of…warms his heart. She takes in a deep breath and twists back around. She doesn’t even buy anything. She just leaves.

He almost chases her. He stands in the aisle still reveling in her presence. He breathes deeply thinking about how nice it felt to have such power over someone. Hm.

Sukuna leaves the store only a few moments after her. Toji’s BMW was running next to a pump as he got out of the car. “Oh shit, there you are.” He grins. “Guess who I just saw.”

“I know. She was running from me.” Sukuna says, getting into the passenger seat.

Toji cackles while driving away. “Damn, so she’s scared of us, huh?” Sukuna shrugs. “She looked like it. Girl was huffing it. Actually…she ran down the street towards where we’re going.”

Sukuna raises a brow at him. Toji doesn’t say anything and just keeps smiling. “So?”

He turns on his beamers and slows down as he drives between the apartment buildings. Sukuna’s eyes widen as he realizes just what Toji’s trying to do. And soon his lips follow. Just up ahead was a figure with a hoodie walking very quickly. They turn around and immediately shield their eyes from the bright lights. It was her.

She seemed confused at first, and the bright light contrasted with the darkness of the night blinded her from seeing who was in the car. However, she didn’t stop walking or slow down. She decided to mind her business instead. It could be anyone. Anyone. Even though it was the same car waiting at the gas station.

Despite her telling herself that she’s okay, she couldn’t help but notice how they were matching her speed. And that once they had gotten right behind her, the window was rolled down. And that she still had a block left to go.

“Ay,” Sukuna shouted from behind her, effectively terrifying her. She turned to see his smile and upon further investigation, she saw Toji’s from the driver’s seat. Oh no. “You can’t say hi? You scared of me?” He taunts.

She ran.

-

And that was the worst thing she could have done.

There have been a few recent instances that made her question her move to this city. She was hoping to start a new life, away from her family, away from her ex, make some new friends; she didn’t think she would be planning to move out after a couple months.

That man…she didn’t know what the hell his problem was. Why did he and his friend follow her out of the gas station? Was he crazy? Did she do something to him? Since they followed her, she’s been racking her mind trying to figure out what the hell she did to deserve this. Before that, she had only ever spoken to him once at the grocery store. He was extremely intimidating, but she was intrigued by him. She didn’t mean to stare, but he was very attractive. Clearly he had seen it as some sort of invitation. Maybe he followed her into that aisle and it wasn’t just an act of kindness.

Coming home after work had become so much more nerve wracking. In fact, coming out of her unit brings her horrible anxiety. She’s constantly looking over her shoulder. Tries to pretend the building across doesn’t even exist. She doesn’t understand what took her so long to get curtains; it just wasn’t a priority for her. Either way, she didn’t deserve to be punished for her forgetfulness.

She’s in a weird position where the longer she goes without seeing him, the more worried she becomes even though she never wants to see him or his friend again. Currently, she was in the elevator heading up to her apartment. She was catching her breath and trying to relax now that she was safe. She does this everyday now.

She couldn’t wait to be home. The entire day she’s been feeling like complete crap. Her heart refused to leave her stomach. She dropped so many cups behind the bar that she spent more time sweeping and wiping up drinks than making them. And she was on the verge of tears the entire time. It was nice to be home, but she wondered how bad it would be tomorrow.

In fact, it was so bad today that although she was physically relaxed, her brain just wouldn’t be quiet. It kept telling her to stay alert, that there was still something waiting for her. She tried her best to ignore it and enjoy her night. She was going to kick off her shoes, rip off all her clothes, warm up her leftovers and hit her bong. She was off tomorrow and she is not planning on leaving her room at all.

She messed with her keys when she approached her door. All the apartments had two locks, a deadlock and a lock on the handle, but she was looking for another that she could attach herself. The home goods store near her didn’t have any promising ones, so she had to wait on a shipment.

She reached for the handle to unlock it. Her hand twisted the lever and she retracted it immediately. Her heart starts racing once more, but then she realizes the door was still closed. When she can’t get the door open, she sighs in relief. The deadlock was still intact and locked. The apartments are just shitty.

As relieved as she was in that moment, this just meant she had another problem to deal with. She couldn’t go with one of her locks not working, especially not the handle. In fact, maybe she’ll deal with it tonight. She does have tools and she can be pretty handy when she needs to be.

Like she wanted to, she kicks off her shoes and rips off her jacket. She almost takes off her clothes before she notices a certain smell in the air. Her apartment smelled of weed, but it smelled like someone was actively smoking right at that moment. Maybe it was her next door neighbor.

She walks through her silent home. Maybe she should get a cat. There are quite a few friendly strays around. She could afford-

What was that noise?

A bump. In her bedroom.

What could it have been? Had her worst fears come true?

No. It’s not possible…so why had that sinking feeling returned in full force? There was nothing in her room. There was no one in her room…

-

Toji had broken the lock for him. 'Just record it for me,' was his end of the bargain.

The place was just as cute as he thought it was. She still had a lot of things unpacked, and she hadn’t gotten a couch for the living room. Hm. He wonders if she really is planning on leaving. That would not be good.

He would want her to stay, but if she can get away from him, at least he’ll get a taste of her.

She leaves her weed out. Hm…he would enjoy this better if he were high. And he’ll make her smoke too. 

When he heard her coming closer to her room, he put the bong down and stood up. Her room was small and it was pitch black, the only light coming from the embers in the bowl. He hit her closet door and she heard it. Fuck. He hopes she doesn’t get a weapon out.

And she didn’t. This girl is…something else.

He hides right behind the door in between the wall and the hinges. Then, he waited quietly and patiently until she slowly opened the door and turned on the light. And before she could try to look around, he slammed the door shut behind her.

-

It all happened in a second.

She heard the door slam and time froze. She told herself then and there, that she was going to die tonight. She knew who her killer would be before she turned around. Did she even want to?

She didn’t have a choice, her body reacted before she could think. All she saw was a small scowl, he had brown eyes, but they looked tainted with blood. His hands, his large hands, shot towards her head and before she could scream he trapped her mouth shut. His other hand gripped the back of her head.

She fought him as violently as she could. She scratched his face, pulled his hair, tried to poke him in the eyes; but he was quick to show her that he was much stronger than her. He pulls his hand off of her mouth and smacks her across the face. She can only scream for a second before his hand is back on her mouth and he pushes her into the bed.

Sukuna takes his hand off of the back of her head and squeezes her neck. He still holds her mouth shut. She gets weaker and weaker as the oxygen leaves her brain. He leans down towards her face to speak to her. “You want to live?”

Tears had long been streaming down her face, but this is the point where she finally breaks down wailing. She lets her arms fall and Sukuna loosens his grip on her neck. But only slightly. She takes a deep breath and cries into his hand. “Answer me,” he says. “Come on, pretty girl.”

She cries a bit more before nodding her head in defeat. “I know. You’re gonna do what I say?”

She nods again. “You’re not gonna scream when I take my hand off?” She sniffles and sobs again. “Because you want to fucking live, right? Right?” He tightens his grip on her neck again. She kicks her feet and nods as best as she can. “Go turn off your light and turn on your lamp. You’re gonna smoke with me.”

He gets off her and watches her to make sure she does what he asks. It takes her a minute, she lays there quietly sobbing and wiping her tears while Sukuna takes another hit of her bong, but eventually she gets up to turn on her lamp, then flip her light switch. “Lock the door too. I like the feeling of extra privacy when I’m taking a woman to bed.”

-

He disgusts her.

He forces her to take several long hits that had her in horrible coughing fits. And of course, it wasn’t long before she was completely inebriated. She couldn’t really move too much, or think too much. But even though she was out of commission, she could hear every word Sukuna said to her.

He talked her ear off about how he’d been looking at her for a week before they met at the grocery store. All the way up until she realized just how exposed she was from catching him and his friend staring. It was her fault, is what he said. He said she was stupid to not think anyone could see her. She should have gotten blinds or curtains when she moved in. A fucking dumbass bitch.

That’s how she felt.

He taunted her as he watched her take her clothes off. His dick was already in his hand, he had been hard for a while. Imagining his dick finally pounding into her as he squeezes the life out of her.

‘I think you wanted someone to watch you,’ he said to her. She hung onto every word he said, answered every question he had. ‘You’re an attention seeking slut, aren’t you? Nod your head.’ And she did. ‘What’s your name?’ And she told him. ‘Take that shit off faster and come hit this again.’

She was completely out of it, but instead of floating, she sank. She sunk deeper into the bedsheets, Sukuna weighing her down with every word. Every stroke of his hand on her thigh, every lick on her neck and collarbone, every bite on her chest. When he reached down between her legs and stroked her clit, she moaned, then cried in shame.

“Shhhh,” he whispered in her ear from behind her. “You’re gonna love me. And if you’re good I won’t hurt you.” He kisses her ear, then nibbles on it. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down the side of her neck. She cries and shakes, twisting her head away from him as best as she could. Sukuna’s hands explore her body eagerly. He can’t decide whether he wants to grip her hips or play with her nipples. She was so soft, just as he imagined.

He flips her onto her back. “Look at me, baby.” She opens her eyes only slightly, her tears blurring her vision completely before falling. He takes his hand to cup her cheek and wipe them with his thumb. As she gazed upon his naked body on top of hers, she accepts her fate: this man was going to rape then kill her.

He looked deranged. His brows were knit together with a lopsided grin. Her body is racked with sobs once more. “It’s okay,” he tells her. “Shhhh.” He slowly brings his thumb wet with salty tears to her mouth. She tries to pull her head away, but he quickly attaches his hands back to her mouth and head then he leans down towards her. “I thought you said you wanted to live.”

She’s actually not sure at this point. Does she want to live with this trauma? Does she want to continue being this man’s neighbor for him to torture however he sees fit? Does she want to have to look at his building every single day living in fear that he’ll do it again? Living in fear of his friend getting any bright ideas?

“Just relax.” He lets go of her head and goes for her neck. She moans as he bites and sucks on it, making sure to leave a mark reminding her of what he did. It won’t be the only one.

Sukuna slowly takes his hands and lifts both of her legs in the air. He licks his fingers while looking at her, then bites his lip as he plays with her clit once more. She breathes harder and harder with every rub. They don’t break eye contact, it does something to him. He’s reveling in her fear. Her eyes were shot, her mascara and eyeliner running down her face. It made her look even more beautiful. She was making him feral.

Sukuna’s dick was an angry scarlet and dripped precum all over her leg where it rested. He was big and it scared her even more. As his eyes explored her body, he got hungrier and hungrier. He slides a finger inside of her and starts pumping. Her pussy was slick with her arousal.

“Fuck,” he whispered putting in another finger. He pumped his fingers hard enough to make her wetness splash. She threw her head back and arched her chest into the air. She sounded just as sweet as he thought she would. She was turning out to be everything he wanted and more. He wasn’t waiting any longer.

He yanked his fingers out of her and searched her bedside table for his camcorder. She whined when he removed himself from her and watched him. Sukuna pressed record.

“Say hi to Toji,” he told her, sticking the lens in her face. She closes her eyes and tries to avoid the camera. He grips her chin with his fingers and forces her head forward. “Ain’t she pretty?” Sukuna pulls away from her face to record her body. He takes her tit in his hand to play with. He jiggles and pulls on her nipple before smacking it. When she squealed he did it again.

“He’s gonna love watching me fuck the shit out of you.” Sukuna sat and balanced the recorder on her nightstand perfectly angled to show their torsos and hips. He gets back on the bed to grab her waist and pull her towards his. He groaned when he felt his dick rub against her pussy. “You know who I’m talking about, right? My friend? You know he saw you before I did.”

He pauses to spit into his hand and starts jerking his throbbing shaft. “I wanted to kill that fucker.” Sukuna leans over once more and kisses her several times before capturing her lips in one long and forceful kiss. He rubs his dick against her entrance as he does this, with a desperate moan from both of them to accompany it. Sukuna rests his forehead against hers. “Tell me you’re mine.” His eyes are fiery, and she doesn’t wish to find out what will happen if she fails to do what he asks.

His tip begins to poke through her entrance. She whimpers and he brings his head down and bites her lip. “Come on…”

“I’m yours-” He finally starts tucking his dick into her. The feeling of being inside her was heaven on Earth. He wasn’t ashamed of how loudly he moaned. She was louder anyway. They always are. Even when they don’t want it.

“My name is Sukuna.” She takes all of him like a fucking champ. And looks good as fuck while doing it. And her voice…

“I’m yours, Sukuna.”

A tear ran down her cheek. The dragging of his dick against her walls was nothing like she’s ever felt before. It felt so good, but she was the unhappiest she’d ever been. She’s terrified and unsure if she’ll live to see tomorrow. He says he won’t kill her if she’s good, but what does good even mean to him?

She knows there’s nothing she really could have done to avoid what was currently happening to her. This man- no, Sukuna, saw her when she was first moved in and decided then and there that he wanted to rape her. No matter what he claims about her being rude and ignoring him when he helped her. And yet, she blames herself.

If she had just gotten curtains or blinds early enough, then maybe she could have avoided him. Or maybe she wouldn’t have existed to him at all. At least he wouldn’t have known what floor she was on or her room. Maybe he wouldn’t have known what building she was in.

She was so fucking stupid.

-

He repeated that all night.

‘Stupid fucking bitch,’ he would mutter under his breath. ‘Changing in front of a window, thinking no one’s gonna see you? Posing in mirrors and shit?’ He fucked her at a smooth and steady rythym, she was soaking wet and splashing all over his stubble. The sheets were damp underneath. ‘Oh yeah. You like it when I talk to you like that?’ She couldn’t stop herself from crying in humiliation.

He asked her to cry louder for ‘Toji’, which she did, and he proceeded to smack her across the face for being too loud.

He felt amazing, he pushed her legs into her chest and hammered into her. She cried into his mouth as she came all over him. Her pussy squeezing his member drive him insane and before he knew it he was cumming inside her. ‘Fuck…’ He pulled out and jerked the rest of his cum onto her pussy and thighs. He quickly grabbed the camera to show Toji, with the flash on.

‘Look at that shit,’ Sukuna made sure to examine her at every angle. He pushed his finger into her and chuckled when she moaned. His index was covered with his cum and he brought it and the camera up to her body and face.

She was completely tired out. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she could barely even lift her eyelids. Sukuna kissed at her like a dog, then maneuvered the camera to her face. Her face was soaked with tears and spit. Her makeup had smudged everywhere and ran down her cheeks. Her hair was a mess, and she ached everywhere.

Her mouth hung open and Sukuna proceeded to jam his finger into it. He used it to pull her head back over to him and made out with her. Then, his dick started poking her ass.

She had no idea what time last night they were finally done, talk less of when she actually fell asleep. He smoked a blunt after the whole thing, sat her up so he could make her smoke too. He found her liquor cabinet. The night got worse.

She puked her guts out then fell asleep on the floor, but now she was in her bed trapped underneath him. They were both naked. She was sore as the day was long. He snores next to her. Holy fucking hell. She’s alive. Why is she alive?

She starts breathing heavily and looking around her room. She doesn’t know what to do. She didn’t think she would still be here.

In a flash, he’s up. His hand is over her mouth, and his eyes are staring into hers. He has a poker face. She shakes in his clutches and her eyes fill with tears already. “Relax. Listen to me. I know what you’re planning.”

What? What is he- “I dare you to fucking try and move away from me. I will follow you and ruin your life.”

“You said you were mine last night? Then you’re mine. You’ll do what I say, and I’ll do as I please with you. Do you understand?”

All she could do was nod. What could she say? She was planning on moving despite not having the money for it. She would have to save up. And now that he’s shown her what he’s capable of, why would she take the risk? 

Why is this happening to her? What did she do to deserve this? Want a better life for herself?

-

Sukuna was pleased with how the morning was going.

She was sitting on a stool in her dining room watching him make them breakfast with an ice pack on her face and a blanket over her body. She didn’t know what to think.

Suddenly, he perks up and turns towards her. “You got a phone, pretty?” 

She could throw up again. She swallows and points towards the hall . “My room,” her voice was hoarse and weak. “On the other side of the bed.”

He pauses and blinks at her. She gets scared again wondering what she did wrong this time. He turns the heat off. “You’re coming with me.”

Toji answers in a flash. “So, how was it?”

“You’re gonna like what you see.” He turns towards where she’s sitting on the bed. “Isn’t that right?” She’s not amused.

“Are you…are you with the bitch right now?” Toji asks.

“Yeah,” Sukuna makes his voice dreamy. “We’re going steady.”

ending a/n: Please lmk what you think ! Thank you for reading !

Masterlist

W E L C O M E P A G E

[roseykat]

TITLE: Play Bite

PAIRING: Hyunjin x Jisung x female reader

SUMMARY: You, Hyunjin, and Jisung have a really fun time playing a dirty truth or dare game after the plans for everyone to go out failed. Part 1 to the 'Play' series.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

Part 1 - Play Bite Part 2 - Play Fight Part 3 - Play Right

TAGS: Hyunjin, Jisung, and reader have all consumed alcohol but are not fully drunk, smut, kissing, hickies, making out, dirty texts, dirty talk, erotic truth or dares, use of pet names such as 'bub', 'baby' and 'pretty', swearing, food play (nothing heavy), solo orgasm, female masturbation, suggestive material, very vague mentions of choking (not emphasised), slight traces of top!Jisung.

MASTERLIST

A/N: Think of this as a prelude to this hard thought I posted a while ago. If you haven't read it, it will give you some context into what will come in the future for this type of concept. Also just to preface but not give away too many spoilers, nobody is cheating in this story.

-

“Remove one piece of clothing, socks do not count,” Jisung reads aloud from the card in his hand. 

It’s the third task into the deck of dirty truth or dare at Hyunjin's apartment. After the entire group’s plan to go out for the night fell through when it started pelting down, it was in all three of your guys’ best interests to not waste the night. So, although he invited the rest of the group over for drinks, only you and Jisung decided to go around. 

An hour later into the night and already just past the point of tipsy, the three of you progressed to playing games. A set of dirty truth or dare cards was the first thing that caught Jisung’s keen eye as he analysed the plethora of games that Hyunjin had on a shelf in his living room. 

“You’re not even wearing socks, so you have no choice,” Hyunjin chuckles, almost evilly.

Jisung dons his best thinking face, eyes narrowing as he tries to come up with which item of clothing he wants to take off. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls the entire fabric up and over his head before placing it beside him, careful not to knock over his drink. 

Your eyes glue to his gorgeous bare top half for a few seconds too long before averting them to the floor like you weren’t supposed to look at him. It’s not like you’ve never seen him topless before in all of his honey toned glory. Almost always will Jisung proudly walk around half naked unprovoked when you’re around him. 

“Your turn bub,” he continued.

You clear your throat then lean over to pick a card up from the middle, then read it out loud, “oh…”

“What’s it say?” Jisung peeks his head over to see what’s written down before his jaw unhinges. “Let the person to your left select an area of your body for them to give you a hickey. Wow.”

Hyunjin, to your left, stares back at you in shock and horror. His cheeks were ballooned and full of liquid after taking a large swig of his drink before setting it down. The more silent seconds that tick by, the more flips his stomach keeps doing. But, he had to expect the unexpected with this game.

You and Jisung were ready to play by the rules and Hyunjin wasn’t going to exempt himself from it just because of the card you pulled. 

He swallows the mouthful of alcohol, “alright. Are you okay with me doing this?”

You nod even though you can feel your heart picking up its pace, “I am.”

He takes your answer and runs with it then ponders on the best place to plant a hickey on your body. It doesn’t take him long to think of a number of unspoken places where he would and even though he’s tipsy enough to disclose those areas, he decides to keep that to himself. 

“Okay, can you lie down for me then?” He asks. 

“Lie down?”

“Mm, otherwise it might be awkward to reach,” he explains vaguely. 

You start jumping to conclusions at the instant you hear his request, yet your mind is so hazy that your body just ends up listening to what Hyunjin has asked of you instead. You end up lying back on the floor, your head next to Jisung’s thigh who looks down at you while Hyunjin moves. 

His long body straddles yours but not fully putting his weight down on you. With his hand, he pulls back some of your hair so he can reach the area he wants before gently tilting your chin up and to the side towards Jisung. 

Hyunjin then sinks his face down just to the side of your throat and sucks. For a second, your body squirms at the slight achy pang that he brings to the surface of your skin. Still, with the way that your body is buzzing, it undoubtedly feels amazing. He remains there for a few seconds and uses his tongue to swipe over the surface he just marked.  

Jisung watches with his mouth ajar. He takes in the contorted look of concentration on your face, the way your eyelids flutter closed. 

It’s not long after until Hyunjin peels himself off of you then takes your hand to help you sit back up again. In hindsight, you wonder if it was all but necessary to lie down for him in order to give you a hickey. But Hyunjin’s thinking was that to reach your throat, you had to be on the ground. 

“That might’ve been-“ his face contorts with worry just looking at the fresh, deep and reddish mark. “A bit much, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you respond, trying to act cool under the pressure. “It felt nice anyway. Okay, Hyunnie’s turn.” 

He draws another card, reading it in his mind before his eyes dart to Jisung, “make out…with the person beside you for one minute.”

“W-Which side?” You ask. 

“My left which is-“

“Me,” Jisung responds, pointing at his chest. “Alright then.”

Hyunjin stares blankly at his friend, unsure if he's joking or not, “wait, you’re…you’re serious?”

Jisung shifts his body closer to Hyunjin, his face nearing him, “that’s the game right?”

“Y-Yeah,” he replies sheepishly. “Yeah, okay then.”

“I can set a timer,” you announce.

He’s never done this before - kissed a friend, made out with a friend. For one, Hyunjin knows Jisung has done so multiple times, having been an impartial witness to it. Whether it was while Jisung was drunk, sober, high, it happened. Even with the same gender. 

“Alright,” you say, pulling out your phone as you go to the clock app to set a timer for one minute and place it on the ground. “3, 2, 1, go.”

You’re not sure who it was first that leaned in for the kiss after being so warped by the fact that they were even doing this. It was like Hyunjin offered his mouth and Jisung went for the kill. Both of them started off slowly by the time ten seconds hit. Twenty seconds in and Hyunjin’s hand comes up to the side of his friends’ face when the kiss deepens even further. 

You watch the glide of their tongues move so languidly with one another, doing unspeakable things in between your legs. Similar to Jisung’s reaction when Hyunjin gave you a hickey, your mouth was on the floor. There’s no way in hell could you ignore how hot it was to see them make out. 

After forty seconds, the pace had picked up a notch as they continued to move in sync with one another. Jisung’s hand had made it onto Hyunjin’s lap with some unintentional plan of slowly hiking up his thigh. In his mind, the more touch, the better. He already felt floaty because of the alcohol. Now Jisung touching him, kissing him, was an enhancement. 

At the mark of one minute, your phone rudely blares its alarm. Hyunjin pulls away with red lips, Jisung’s as equally as glossy as the other. They stall for a second, almost as if they briefly thought about going back at it again…

“Minho was right,” Jisung breaks the silence willingly. “You are a pretty good kisser.”

“What?” Hyunjin exclaims, his eyes almost popping out of his head. 

“What?” He whines. “He and I were trying to figure out who in the group would be the best kisser. Minho reckons you are.”

“You say that as if you’ve kissed everyone in the group to try and find that out,” You realise. 

“Well I just kissed him, so it’s everyone except for you now. Which there’s still time for since it’s my turn now,” he responds in a slightly hopeful tone and picks up his next card. “Huh, maybe not - what’s the most amount of times you’ve had sex in one day?” 

“Is that the first truth question?” Hyunjin points out, trying to subtly keep himself calm after what just went down with Jisung. 

“I think so,” you reply. “We’re nowhere near halfway through the deck.” 

“Three and a half,” Jisung answers. 

“And a half?” You and Hyunjin parrot in unison, the confusion very present in both of your tones.

“Halfway through the act, got caught, had to wrap it up and leave,” Jisung explains very succinctly. “It would’ve been four if it weren’t for fucking Seungmin. Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m holding a grudge or anything.”

“Sure,” you trail off, trying your best not to laugh at his misfortune while you go to pick up a card. “Uh, lend your phone to the person on your right and let them send a dirty text to someone in your contacts.”

Jisung claps excitedly, “hand it over baby!” 

You roll your eyes, reluctantly passing him your device, “anyone except my family otherwise I probably won’t live to see another day.” 

He takes your phone earnestly with a cheeky and devious expression before delving righteously into your contacts list, “don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

Jisung’s thumb scrolls excitedly trying to find the right person to send the right message to. He pauses over a couple of names and then finds one he thinks will give the most entertaining response. He creates a new message and types in what he wants to say.  

From You: I’m horny. Come over and fuck me.

The silence was palpable as the fate of your dignity rests in your friends’ hands. Once the message is sent, Jisung keeps your phone on standby while you all wait for the response. The sheer riskiness of the dare calls for you to pick up your drink and finish the rest off, knowing that you’re going to need it. 

“What did you write?” You ask him anyway, setting your empty glass aside. 

He looks smugly at the screen again and repeats what he created, “I’m horny, come over and fuck me.”

Your eyes widen in horror, “t-that’s not…who did you send that to!?”

“That’s a bit straightforward isn’t it?” Hyunjin laughs. 

“Doesn’t matter now, your turn, go,” Jisung nods to you.

“Fine,” you groan, snatching up a card. “How many times a day do you get off? Once, maybe twice. Done. Next, you go.” 

Hyunjin blinks in surprise at the information you so rapidly provided and leans into the circle to grab his card, “alright. Choose one person to sit in between your legs for the remainder of the game.” 

“I think considering that he and I just made out, it’s your turn to do something now,” Jisung smoothly contends his point before you could even get a word out. 

“Fair enough,” you respond coolly.

The move is practically childsplay in comparison to what they’ve done so far. Nonetheless, it quickly proved itself to be rather effective on your body. 

Hyunjin tries not to grin and spreads his legs for you to slot perfectly in between them. You’ve been this close to him before - in a hug at least. But never has Hyunjin been as acutely intimate with you as of right now. As he’s pressed up behind you, it’s hopeless to try not to be so affected by such subtlety. The warmth from his body glows like a heater onto your back and the steadiness of his breathing is comforting. 

“Sungie’s turn,” he says from behind you. 

Another card is taken from the deck and Jisung reads once more, “feed someone a food item with your mouth. Okay, but what kind of food?” 

“There’s that bowl of grapes just there on the coffee table,” Hyunjin points over to it. 

Jisung spins around on the floor and sees the assortment of snacks that they had laid out on the table earlier on. He turns back with the entire silver bowl in his lap, popping a couple of them in his mouth and eating away to his heart's content before proceeding with the dare. 

“You’re breathing heavy,” Hyunjin whispers teasingly in your ear while Jisung isn’t looking. 

“S-Shut up,” you utter back to him, trying not to act so utterly embarrassed by the truth he’s managed to highlight. 

Jisung pops in two more grapes and goes to sit beside you before talking with his mouth full, “bo’ o’ ya.”

“Huh?” Hyunjin retorts, trying to decipher what his friend is saying. 

You ponder for a second, “I think he said both of us?” 

Your guess comes up as correct because without a proper verbal answer from Jisung, his actions spoke louder. He leans towards your face first - closer than it has ever been since you’ve known him. The purple grape sits between his teeth as he goes to pass it to you by his mouth. It was awkward to manoeuvre at first, but the pair of you discovered that using your lips is key. By that point, Jisung manages to exchange the fruit as you crush down on the grape that explodes with such a sweet flavour. 

Then, he moves a bit behind you to reach Hyunjin. Both of them struggle to pass the grape without fully touching each other's lips once more. Then again, that was the point of the card that Jisung pulled. 

“Yummy?” he asks, sliding back to his original spot with the bowl. 

“Mm,” Hyunjin hums while he chews. “Sweet.” 

Half of the stuff that you’ve done so far with them makes you realise that you’re not that nervous to do these kinds of things. It could’ve been the alcohol, that definitely helps. But also because they’re two of your best friends and wherever they are, you feel safe in their proximity. 

“My turn,” you say as Jisung picks the top card off of the deck and slides it to you across the floor. “Oh - same as Sungie’s, remove a piece of clothing, socks do not count. Isn’t this just a forfeit card since it’s already been picked up?”

“No, not necessarily?” Hyunjin answers. “Plus, what if you forfeit that one and pick another one but it’s worse?”

He had a good point. It was a very mellow dare in comparison to the others you’ve all completed. With that in mind, your hands find their way down to your shorts, contemplating whether to take them off or not. Considering Jisung already has his top off, you went for the opposite in a sudden spur of confidence that was short lived when you saw the look on your friend's face. 

Jisung’s eyes couldn’t leave where your hands moved as you freed your legs from the fabric, allowing you to remain in your underwear. However, it becomes very apparent to you that taking your pants off wasn’t such a good idea when you know that you’re wet. Whether they knew it, particularly Jisung who had a full view of you, was too late. 

Behind you, Hyunjin was trying to keep himself calm as you moved around a bit, “w-who’s turn is it now?” 

Jumping onto a different topic gave time for Jisung to blink away from your body. He feels guilty for even staring at you like that in the first place. Then again, it’s not like you weren’t doing the same ever since he took his shirt off. 

“Yours actually,” you answer and without any spatial awareness whatsoever, you lean forward just a bit to pick up a card for Hyunjin that your ass slightly pushes back into his crotch in the process. 

After the fact of the matter, you realise what you’ve done. But it wasn’t intentional. You just wanted to pick up a card for him so that he didn’t have to move from behind you. As you come back to sit between his legs properly, you feel his forehead rest against the back of your head - a silent sign to prove he definitely recognised what you did to him.

Although he didn’t say anything because what was there to say to that? In hindsight, it might’ve been better forJisung to just read it out for Hyunjin. 

“H-Here,” you offer the card to him, playing it off. 

He lifts his head back up from yours and takes the item, “what is your dirtiest fantasy and why?” 

Right now if Hyunjin was able to answer honestly, he would say ‘fucking you while his best friend watches.’ But even for a filthy game that they’re playing, he thought it would be inappropriate to say. On top of that, it’s not actually his dirtiest fantasy. He could do way worse but just doesn’t know what at this point in time in his sex life. There was still time for him to explore…

“I haven’t really got one at the moment,” says Hyunjin. “I suppose just real…rough sex.” 

Jisung immediately becomes intrigued, oblivious to the fact that Hyunjin had it in him to admit such a scandalous piece of information, “what does that mean to you though?”

He becomes even more flustered under the heat of his friends’ question, it doesn’t help that he’s nearly fully hard behind you either, “it means things like…choking or hair pulling-”

“What…you like to do those things or those things being done to yo-

“Both, I like both. Anyway, that’s not the question,” Hyunjin interrupts impatiently. “Just move on.” 

It’s difficult for you not to laugh at him, yet as you go to pick up a card - more carefully this time for Hyunjin’s sake - your smile fades quicker than you could blink. Not one doubt crossed your mind about how obscene this game could get. Yet this card refuted all of that. 

“I…get…get yourself off in front of someone,” you mumble in a very quiet voice.

“Get what?” Jisung tries to reiterate. 

Hyunjin’s brows knit in concentration as he reads the card from over your shoulder, “she has to get herself in front of someone.”

An ‘o’ forms in Jisung’s mouth before he responds to that statement, “that’s a…an interesting card.” 

The three of you fall deathly silent to the weight that the dare has you under. Your mind wants you to do it, to satiate that instinctual appetite to pleasure yourself ever since the game heated up. To do so in front of your friends doesn’t appear to be a bad idea which technically it isn’t from the way they already have you unintentionally wet. That in itself said a lot.

Therefore, you spread your legs and bend your knees. 

An expression of realisation washes over Jisung, coming to grips with what’s about to unfold. As for Hyunjin, he can only sit and remain in place as a support for you to lean against when your hand slips down the front of your underwear as you begin to rub. A sigh of warm relief then pushes past your lips. The pads of your fingers collect your damp essence to use as you circle over your clit. 

Already, a hefty volume of pressure is escalating in the pit of your tummy, tingling and spreading throughout your lower half. All from being turned on by the game. The person in front of you and behind you feel the exact same way except the one behind you was already there a long time ago. Their cocks fill out against the inside of their thighs and Hyunjin is positive that you can feel him through his pants. 

“Y/N,” Jisung says. “Does that make you feel good?”

“Jisung,” Hyunjin warns him sharply, not wanting his friend to fuel the fire that’s burning. 

“Mm, y-yes,” you stutter, breath catching at the base of your throat the more you try and push yourself towards an edge. 

It could be better though. It could be the pair of them groping and teasing your body at their will. You know that they both know how to use their mouths with the way that they made out earlier on. Not to mention from the grapevine, you’ve heard about Jisung too; how he knows how to eat pussy. Then you have Hyunjin, who just exposed his fantasy of liking having rough sex. The possibilities with his ideas would be endless and fun. 

With the pair of them, you don’t think you would ever run out of orgasms. Just thinking about it makes your fingers speed up, becoming increasingly more wetter. Your muscles jerk every now and then when you inch closer to the tail end of your orgasm, which causes you to unintentionally move against Hyunjin’s crotch once more. 

“Y/N,” Hyunjin breathes out against you. 

“Don’t touch her,” Jisung snaps. “This is her dare.”

“I-I’m not fucking touching her,” he presses back madly, then mutters just to himself as he hides behind you. “Can’t help it Jisung.”

“K-Keep watching…” you plead. “So…close.” 

Hyunjin’s nails are digging deep into the carpet beneath him and his restraint not to touch you teeters dangerously on the last millimetre of a cliff. He’s throbbing, achingly hard. For you. Jisung can see his friends' knuckles turning white but he understands. He too remains hard in his sweats, which was obvious to you. Even just the slight outline that you can see indicates to you that he’s big.

Your mind starts wondering what that sort of length would do to your body, how would it feel to have inside of you? As you ask yourself those questions, you try to imagine that sensation when you start fingering yourself. 

You whimper pathetically, curling over that sweet spongy spot, “yes, feels so good. Makes me wanna cum…” 

“Yeah? Gonna cum in front of us?” Jisung eggs you on. “Gonna make yourself cum just for us?

Your dozy eyes lock with him just for a few seconds before you nod against Hyunjin’s body, “j-just for you both.” 

“F-Fuck,” Hyunjin squeezes his eyes tight shut, gritting his teeth so much that his jaw aches. 

As that familiar euphoric bliss catches up to you, a silent scream paints over your face while your eyelids clamp shut and your eyebrows are furrowed together, focusing on the pleasure. For a moment, you’ve forgotten that Hyunjin is behind you as you can’t help but shiver helplessly against his body from the waves of your orgasm. Quiet yet very audible moans ring throughout Hyunjin’s apartment, making themselves known as you gradually come down with heavy gasps. 

“Holy shit,” Jisung murmurs in awe, he can see that you’ve soaked through your underwear. 

The large wet and sticky patch makes him want to lurch forward, tear the piece of clothing from your body and taste you for himself. To have his face buried in between your legs would be the Atlantis of his own fantasy right now, to have you use his mouth and tongue until you’re cumming all over again. 

In the moments of quiet when the still air is filled with nothing but your staggered breathing and depleted whimpers as you try to collect yourself, your phone buzzes on Jisung’s thigh - the reply to the dirty text he sent from earlier on.

He looks down at the glowing bright screen and his jaw drops to the floor once more. His mind sobers quickly.

From Chan to You: Again? Still horny from this morning? Alright then, I can come over and give you what you need x

There was no way.

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[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury

Word Count: 6670

Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 ○ Part 3

Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.

Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.

His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.

In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.

Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.

He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.

You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.

As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.

He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.

Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.

He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.

He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.

His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.

His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.

“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.

“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.

He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.

Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.

Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.

Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.

He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.

“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.

He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.

He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.

“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.

“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.

“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.

“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”

“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.

Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.

“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”

“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.

“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.

“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.

He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.

“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?

Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.

Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.

“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.

“I will not leave her.”

“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.

Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.

He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.

He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.

Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.

“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.

“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”

He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.

“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.

When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.

Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.

Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.

That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.

“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.

“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”

“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.

“Why would she hurt you then?”

“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.

“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.

“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”

“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?

“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.

“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”

“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”

Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.

⋆｡°✩°｡⋆

You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.

You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.

The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.

You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.

Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.

Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.

You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.

As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.

You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.

As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.

You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.

You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.

The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.

When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.

“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.

“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.

“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.

Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.

The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.

As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.

If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.

Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.

Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.

You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.

When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.

Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.

You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.

A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?

“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.

Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.

You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?

Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.

“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.

He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.

You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.

“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.

Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.

“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.

“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.

You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.

The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.

“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”

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[borathae]

"Jungkook is always plagued with guilt when he has to leave you for a business trip. His anxiety that you might be angry at him for not being present is especially high this time around and only your safe embrace can help him calm down."

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, mild Hurt & Comfort, Smut

Warnings: Jungkook is anxious, stressed & guilty, he cries, she is so comforting, hugs and kisses, needy sex, sloppy mutual masturbation, handjob, pussy fingering, penetrative sex facing each other, until he pushes her to her back and fucks her missionary, strength & muscle kink, he is so passionate and rough in missionary, I don't think that there are distinctive roles in this, I guess you can call it Top!Jungkook with a Mommy kink, she calls him Bunny at first before he fucks her to the state where she can only call him by his name, dirty talk, sensory deprivation in the sense that they fuck in complete darkness, they're so so desperate for each other, tears because it's so good, multiple orgasms for her, creampies, cockwarming as aftercare, with cuddles and kisses <3, they're fucking soulmates

Wordcount: 5.3k

a/n: i wrote this after kook's solo concert because he did it to me. i also reread THE angst chapter of aaol and i think this influenced me as well. i really want my kookie back

The plane wasn’t supposed to land this late. The plans were all ruined. 

Jungkook scans his eyes over the kitchen. Empty. Clean. He abandons his suitcase by the stairs leading up and walks to the fridge. He opens it. His heart stings. The plans were all ruined. He wasn’t supposed to come home this late. You made dinner for him. The prettily plated food is still on its original plate for him. You put a glass bowl over it to keep it fresh. 

“Fuck”, Jungkook presses out and closes the fridge. He feels so fucking guilty that he wants to throw up. He should have been there. He should have eaten your food and talked to you during dinner. He should have fucking been there.

You knew that he wouldn’t come home. He was aware that his text came way too late, but he still had hoped that you hadn’t started cooking yet. Of course you had. 

It has been longer than a month since he last was in Seoul and you always cook the grandest things as a welcome home surprise. Jungkook doesn’t expect you to cook, you do it because you want to. Which makes him feel all the shittier right now. He wasn’t there to appreciate it. He had one job - the most important job of all - and he fucking failed you.

Jungkook walks back to his suitcase and lifts it. He will carry it upstairs and then do the laundry tomorrow. He can’t be bothered tonight. It’s already too late. He already wasted too much time being his shitty CEO self.

The dressing room is empty and clean. It faintly smells like lavender in here. He knows it’s because you cleaned this room recently. Jungkook discards the suitcase by the dresser and leaves the room.

He takes a shower in the upstairs bathroom. He didn’t want to go downstairs yet. He is a little scared to do so. He shouldn’t have arrived so late. He is scared of your reaction. He gets so sad when you are disappointed in him. He hasn’t decided yet whether it’s his anxiety disorder talking or the truth, but he thinks that you will be angry at him.

He is angry at himself. He’s a fucking shithead of a husband. That’s what he fucking is. 

Jungkook manages not to cry in the shower even if he really wanted to. His feelings are eating him up alive. He feels so stressed. So tired. So exhausted. Work has been hell. And the fact that it was in a country he barely knew the language of and he had to be without you made it even worse. He feels so drained. 

The shower doesn’t help. It cleans him, nothing more. Jungkook doesn’t put on clothes and leaves for downstairs. He uses the never ending city lights as his guidance. The wind carries the distant purring of the traffic to the windows. The slightly higher pitched pitter patter of his naked feet on marble floor is loud in comparison. The sound stops in sync with Jungkook stopping in front of the bedroom door. 

His hand is shaking. He has to hold it to calm down. He is so scared. You will be so disappointed with him. He wouldn’t even be surprised if you told him to sleep on the couch tonight. You never did so before, but things can change. One month is awfully long and he left you hanging today. He wouldn’t blame you if you sent him away. 

Jungkook takes a shaky breath for courage and steps inside. The room smells like home. Jungkook feels his throat tighten in emotion. This is what home smells like. And he was too late for it. He swallows down his tears and tries to walk it off.

The electric blinds are closed all the way, putting the room into complete darkness. Jungkook uses the light of his phone screen to tiptoe to the bathroom. He still needs to brush his teeth. He does so using his phone’s flashlight as the only light source. He didn’t want to turn on the big lights and risk waking you. Or maybe he didn’t want to look into his own eyes. He can’t bear to face himself tonight.

Jungkook leaves the bathroom door open and tiptoes to the bed. His phone screen gives off enough light that he can see you once he arrives by the bedside. 

You are turned to his side, resting your hand on his blanket. Your cheek is squished as you are sleeping halfway on your stomach. Your lips are parted as soft breaths leave you. Jungkook looks back at your hand resting on his side and gulps down the painful lump in his throat. You shouldn’t have had to fall asleep alone tonight. You shouldn’t have had only his memory to hold.

Jungkook picks up your hand so he could slip under the covers. You react to the gentle nudge with a hum.

“Mhm”, you let out and roll over, now showing off your back.

Jungkook is aware that you didn’t do it on purpose, but it feels like it. You turned your back to him and it’s his own fault. 

Jungkook tugs the blanket under his arm and touches your back. Up and down. Up and down. He feels you breathe. Your warmth is so familiar to him. He missed it so much. 

He missed you so much.

His eyes start burning.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers shakily and turns his back to you. He can’t face you anymore. It hurts so much. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to cry. 

The sheets ruffle as you move around again. Jungkook doesn’t feel the movement because you and he have separate mattresses and separate blankets to get the best sleep ever. You shared a mattress and blanket at first, but decided to upgrade your bed a year ago. Jungkook likes his mattress firm and his blanket thin, while you love to have a softer mattress and your blanket to be thick. And the little mattress movements as one of you rolled around or the blanket wars which once managed to wake you are gone as well. Changing one mattress and blanket for two was the best decision ever. You and he sleep like royalty these days.

Jungkook hears the sheets ruffle as you move around and then the sound of a hand sliding over soft sheets. Warmth touches his back. He tenses up, stays silent. You draw paths along his back, feeling him up. Seeing him. Just like he did all those years ago when you were still masked soulmates aching to be together. It became a little thing between you and him to trace the other in darkness as to make out if it was your other half. You became so good at it these days.

Your touch dances up to the nape of his neck after exploring his upper back. Jungkook shivers and aches to lean into your touch. He is scared to do so now. He already waited for too long to speak up. You’ll know that he is intentionally acting asleep to avoid talking to you.

You close the distance, taking him into your arms to pull him against your chest. You are propped up on your elbow, using the position to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck so you could kiss him.  

Jungkook exhales shakily, releasing all of his tension with a tremble. This just broke him. To be cradled and kissed. It broke him.

“Are you awake?” you whisper softly. The words swirl against his neck.

He nods his head.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

He hesitates. Should he be truthful? Will you be hurt if he was? 

He shakes his head. He can’t lie to you. Not like this. Not when you hold him so safely. Not when you have broken him with your embrace. 

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I’m sorry”, he presses out and sobs softly.

“Hey”, you gasp, straightening up, “hey, are you crying? What’s wrong?” you babble and roll him to his back so you could cradle his cheeks. You wipe his tears away, keeping close by resting your chest against his’, “what’s wrong, Bunny?” 

“I’m sorry for tonight. I’m so sorry for being late and, and not showing up. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, hey it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. The flight was delayed. You couldn’t have known.”

“I saw the food”, he confesses and squeaks sadly, “I didn’t show up, I’m so sorry. I should have texted sooner, I should have-”

“How could you have texted me sooner if you didn’t even know that the flight would be delayed?” 

Jungkook falters. He sniffles repeatedly, taking sharp gasps for air to regulate his breathing. What you say makes sense to him. He didn’t even think of it yet, despite it being the most logical explanation. So it was his anxiety disorder kicking in. 

You caress his left cheek while your right hand guides your pointer finger up and down along the bridge of his nose. You call this touch your magic touch because there is some sort of magic in it to calm down any sort of anxiety Jungkook experiences. Jungkook flutters his eyes closed and sighs as comfort overtakes him.

“Now tell me how you should have texted me sooner, mhm?” you ask in a soft, comforting voice.

“I don’t know”, Jungkook whispers.

“Of course you don’t, it’s impossible. The flight was delayed. It was an unfortunate series of events and not your fault”, you assure him, “unless you intentionally stayed away. Mhm is that it? Did you not wanna see me already, you sneaky Bunny?” you add in a joking tone, making Jungkook giggle.

He shakes his head, “no Mommy, I wanted to see you.”

“Good”, you say in a fond voice and claim his lips in a smooch. 

Jungkook gasps because he hadn’t expected it. The feeling finally seeps into his consciousness. He is kissing you. After thirty three days without you, he is finally kissing you again. Jungkook whimpers and hooks his fingers behind your head, deepening the kiss with trembling lips. He is kissing you again. He is finally realizing that this is happening, that he is back with you. He hooks his arms behind your head and pulls you closer, asking for your taste. You part your lips and meet his begging tongue, while your fingers explore the softness of his hair.

You feel a little dizzy from sleep. You didn’t have the deepest sleep tonight because you knew that Jungkook would come home and you subconsciously refused to find deep sleep. So when Jungkook got into bed, the rustling of his blanket woke you. The pull was instant. You needed to feel him, make sure that he was finally with you again. Your body didn’t expect to be in the current position for such a long time. Your arms are weak and your head is dizzy.

You break the kiss because exhaustion makes you do it.

Jungkook chases you, rolling you and him over so he was the one on top. His right arm rests around you just a little under your breasts, his left hand is cradling your cheek while his right hand is deepening in your hair as best as your texture allows it. He claims your lips in a kiss again, whimpering into it as his body seeks your closeness. Two layers of blanket are keeping you apart. Jungkook doesn’t think, he merely acts and pulls his blanket off of him. Next your blanket. He opens it and slides his arm under it. He takes you softly in his hand and presses you against him at the same time as his body sinks under your blanket. He trembles. It is so warm under your covers and from what he can feel, you are wearing one of his sleep shirts. He grabs a bundle of it and twists, needing you to be so much closer than you already are. 

“Please”, he begs in a shaky voice, tugging at your shirt.

You sit up far enough that you can take off your shirt. You throw it to the side and fall back down.

“Thank you”, Jungkook whimpers and cradles you against his chest. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and places his right hand on the back of your head to support it for you.

You wrap your arms around him, letting out a sigh you didn’t even know you were holding in. You have him back. This is how your Jungkook hugs. Thirty three days without him are unbearably long. So long in fact that your skin started to unwillingly forget the warmth and softness of him. It comes rushing back again now that you are hugging without barriers.

“___”, Jungkook croaks and presses you closer, “oh god.” 

“I missed you too”, you whisper, burying your hand deep in his hair. You pull him closer. Your breasts squish against his chest, the pressure feels like heaven. It gets easier to breathe and releases you of tension you didn’t even know you possessed. You have your Jungkook back. 

Jungkook feels overwhelmed. He ached for your hug ever since he left. Thirty three days without you were hell. You are his constant in his life. When he comes home from work, you are there, hugging him and talking to him and falling asleep with him. When he leaves for work, you are right by his side, talking to him and kissing his cheek as he drops you off at university. When he has free time, he knows he can spend it with you. You are always there. You are his constant. The person who will always be by his side. The warmth he can always return to. So to go without you for more than a month was hell. 

“I missed you so much”, he confesses. 

“Me too, Bunny. Me too.”

You felt just as lonely without him. Years ago, you wouldn’t have batted an eye at the thought of being along for a month, but Jungkook changed you in the most wonderful of ways. He is your person, the comfort you most look forward to, the home you never want to leave. You have him by your side in the morning and have him back again by the evening. You share the last second of consciousness with him before sleep and share the first right after. And for the last month, you didn’t. You had to live without him and it was agony. 

“Closer”, Jungkook begs, “I wanna be closer.”

“Closer?” 

“Closer please.”

“Lie down on your side.” 

Jungkook obeys, keeping his arms around you. You seek him and slide your hand to his length. You brush your fingers over his tip, eliciting a trembling gasp from him. A small whimper follows. 

“This kind of closer?”

“Yes”, he squeaks and grabs whatever he can of your upper back. 

“I missed this feeling. You’re so soft.”

“I missed you too. Ah please.”

“Kook…”

“Can I-”

“Yes.”

His left hand naturally dances down your body, trying to locate your clit. You drape your leg around him, giving him access. He connects his fingers with your heat, sending electricity through you.

“Holy fuck, I’m sensitive”, you get out and moan. You take his cock and begin jerking it. He grows hard rapidly. Just as you soak his fingers at a rapid speed. You want him. He wants you. Too long you had to go without each other.

“Me too. Ah mhm”, he gets out and buries two of his fingers inside you. 

“Bunny….”

“Mommy…”

You cradle his cheek, rub your thumb over his face and stub his nose with your own. Your hands work desperately between your bodies, the tension is growing embarrassingly fast. 

“Bunny, I missed you so much”, you keen and squeeze your eyes shut. It feels so good. His long fingers are filling you up while his thumb is rubbing circles on your clit. He is so sloppy and needy in his touch, which makes it all the better.

“Me too, Mommy”, Jungkook gets out and whimpers, “oh god.” 

Your hand is fast around his cock. You are calculated on normal days, but not tonight. There is no coordination in how you touch him, just pure and honest desperation. 

“I don’t wanna cum like this”, you croak.

“Close?”

“Yeah, it’s fucking stupid. Fuck”, you slide your hand to his hair so you could twist.

Jungkook moans, tilting his head back all on his own while his pouty lips brush against yours. You kiss without really kissing. Just featherlight touches, tickling moans and traces of your tongues. The tension between you and him becomes unbearable. You clench down on his fingers, feeling his cock throb in your hold.

“Bunny, I need your cock.”

“I need your pussy too, Mommy.”

“Good. Take out your fingers.”

Jungkook obeys, touching your hip instead. Neither of you care about the wet mess he leaves on your skin. It’s just another proof that you and he are finally reconnected again.

“Good boy”, you praise and shimmy down just a little so you can take his cock inside. There is no friction, no struggle, no pain. Just warmth and overwhelming pleasure.

“Holy fuck”, you whisper and push him in deeper. Past your entrance. Your warm walls engulf him.

Jungkook grabs you and accidentally scratches you. He couldn’t help it. He is with you again. No one feels like you. No one does.

“Ah!” the sound bounces off the walls. He trembles and pulls you closer, “Mommy.”

“Bunny.”

“Oh god, I’m home”, he whimpers and starts chasing you. 

Your leg is still around him, his thrusts go so deep like this. You are so filled up with him, so stuffed. You are eye to eye even if the complete darkness prevents you from seeing each other. But you don’t need light to see each other. Not you and not Jungkook. You have your hands and fingertips to see. You started it back in the stuffy sex club room you met in and perfected it over the years in your loving home. You know exactly how he looks right now and in return he knows as well.

“Bunny, oh god, my Jungkookie”, you get out and shake, pulling him closer by his hair. The darkness makes it feel all the more intense as you claim his lips in a passionate tongue kiss. The sounds of it mix with the desperate rutting your hips are doing. The rustling of the sheets is audible as well, as are the needy moans both of you choke out constantly. 

You are hot under the covers. Sweat has formed on the parts where you are pressed together. You pull each other closer regardless, basking in the heat because you had to live without it for far too long. This is the only way to melt with each other.

“I love you”, Jungkook gets out and kisses you again.

“-love- too”, is all you get out between your hungry kisses, but Jungkook knows regardless. Even without words he would know. From your kisses, your embrace and the way your pussy is convulsing around him. Jungkook knows every ridge, every bump, every inch of how you feel inside and being allowed to experience it right now is the only proof of love he needs. He is the man who you allowed to go in raw, even back when you pretended not to care. You claimed him and sealed his sweetest fate. You loved him enough that you wanted to be without barriers and you love him enough that you welcome him home right now.

“You feel so good”, you moan and rut against him before your lips suck on his lower lip needily.

Jungkook whimpers, spilling tears of ecstasy. He fucks into you, feeling his legs shake. He is so high on you.

This is fucking for the sake of reconnecting. This is emotional. Deeply, soul-consumingly emotional. Is it kinky? No. Will either of you last long? No. Will it stay in your minds as one of the most intense nights ever? Yes. Yes it fucking will. This is the kind of desperate, needy, passionate sex you can only have after you have been without each other for a long time. It is dumb. It is raw. It is carnal and it is the only good thing which comes out of having to be without the other. Because no amount of foreplay, kink or fetish will ever get you to the level of starvation than forced distance does.

And you are starving. Oh, you are parched and aching for each other. Jungkook fucks you as hard as he can, while you rut against him as roughly as you can. It results in these deep, fiery thrusts, which fills you with all his cock and in return makes him experience every inch of your pussy. 

You are burning up today. You are hot around him, as if you had a fever. Jungkook can barely breathe because of it, gasping for air between his desperate moaning. And you are soaking wet. Soft too. So soft. Jungkook scratches down your back and pulls you closer. His left hand cups your buttock and stills your hips this way. He pushes. The kiss breaks with your needy moan. You roll to your back just enough that Jungkook can prop himself up on his right elbow and use the angle to finally bottom out. Truly bottom out because the position finally gives him a chance to do so. Your leg is still around him, while the other is under his weight. You can feel his sculpted thigh shift and tense as he fucks you. His thrusts are sloppy and so perfectly uncoordinated that they seem coordinated. The mattress shakes because of it. 

You barely feel it because he is currently fucking the senses out of you. This is the kind of fuck which reminds you why he managed to steal your heart and the proof of why you could never want to leave him. It genuinely fucks every sense of control out of you and turns you into the neediest, wettest pillow princess in existence. Tonight it impacts you especially deeply, leaving you to arch your back and curl your toes.

“Bunny”, you moan embarrassingly high pitched, throwing your head back as best as possible while Jungkook shows off the strength of his hips, “Bunny, oh god. Ah Bunny.” 

“Mommy. So good, ah Mommy”, Jungkook moans and drops his head into the crook of your neck. He pulls you closer until your head rests on his right lower arm and you have his biceps brushing against your nose. The gentle headlock he has you in heals you from aches you didn’t even possess before. You are so safe like this. He smells hot. As if he is burning up.

“Bunny…”

You are burning up yourself, grasping his broad, muscular back as your only connection to sanity. He is making you cum and it’s happening soon.

“Don’t stop, please”, you beg.

“Mommy”, he moans and continues because he won’t ever ignore one of your begs. You don’t beg often, so when you do, Jungkook is overtaken with the need to fulfill your every wish. Which means a lot because he always wants to fulfill your every wish.

“You’re making me cum”, you choke out and sob softly as you hug him against you.

“Holy fuck”, Jungkook gets out and squeezes you strongly as your body falls into the high. You are so tight around him, burning up and throbbing. No wonder you are sobbing. Jungkook has to grit his teeth from how intense your orgasm feels to him and he isn’t even the one experiencing it. And there is one problem right now. He still needs it longer. He doesn’t know if he is holding back because he is greedy for more or if his body is just working this way right now, but he isn’t done even when you are already coming down. He needs more. He wants you longer.

You are soaking his cock, pulsating around him as you slowly recover and it’s fucking messing with him. He needs you. He needs you so bad.

Jungkook uses his strength and rolls you onto your back completely. His cock leaves you for a second, but you barely feel the disconnection as the darkness and your passed high leave you disoriented. Your legs are spread open, giving Jungkook a chance to take his cock and push it inside again.

Now you feel it. Now you’re whole again. You whimper, tensing up around him.

“Not done yet”, he rasps with his hand twisting the pillow next to your head. He bottoms out and chases you instantly. Fast and hard. He fucks the juices out of you, filling the air with the sounds of it just as he fills it with the sinful sounds of his naked body impacting with yours. The bed is sturdy and yet still croaks. His throaty grunts and guttural growls fill your ears as well. You know for a fact that he is frowning right now, gritting his teeth because he always does so when he fucks hard.

“Ju-Ju-Jungkook”, he fucks his name out of you. He is fucking his cock right against the spots which steal your sanity. You can’t stop getting wetter because of it. Every second with him feels fucking orgasmic, “Jungkook! Ah! Jungkook!”

You grip his arm. His muscles are so tense, bulging under your fingers as he drills you like an animal.

“Jun-Ju-Jungkoo-ook.” 

“Yeah, keep moaning my name Mommy”, he growls deeply and curses, “fuck, this is…fuck.”

“Jungkook, ah god Jungkook.”

“That’s it, Mommy. That’s it, keep moaning my name”, he encourages you and rewards you with harsher thrusts. Of course this wasn’t his final form yet. Not Jungkook. Not your husband. He will make you believe that the sex couldn’t get any better before showing you not to underestimate him. He fucks you deep into the mattress just as he fucks you deep into a blurred state of ecstasy.

You are utterly and entirely his right now. And you fucking like it, moaning his name as he rewrites your definition of pleasure one harsh thrust at a time. 

“I missed you”, he is using his deep voice to talk, “I thought of you, urgh, of you being mhm being cockstuffed with me, ah mhm I’m going crazy, Mommy. Fuck.” 

He could tell you everything right now and you would barely take it in. Your brain doesn’t work. You are so dumb right now. So utterly stupid. If you weren’t on your back, you would have drooled. Instead you sob his name and writhe desperately.

“Fuck”, Jungkook spits and growls. His hips stutter for only a second. This is how long he needs to find his composure again and then he is already drilling you again, pushing your body closer and closer to your orgasms, “have to go again?”

“Ye-yeah”, you keen, arching your back.

“Let go Mommy, I’m right here”, he tells you and cradles your cheek.

The touch is all that was missing. You break apart with a loud moan of his name and your fingers desperately twisting his hair. He fucked it out of you from the deepest parts of you, which makes it all the more intense. You can’t even moan as it happens. His name was all you managed to produce before your voice gave up on you. You can’t breathe either, lying there with your lips parted and your back arched as Jungkook drags heaven out of you.

Your second high gives him a hard time. The needy fucking he did brought him to the point where he has to let go even if he wanted to hold back longer. His cock aches, his balls feel tight and the tension in his stomach has reached a painful level. While your lungs aren’t working right now, his’ are working overtime, producing the neediest, quickest pants for air. He takes a deep breath and exhales it through his mouth, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

“I’m gonna cum inside”, he moans in a pitched voice. His hips stutter, but don’t lose speed, “gonna creampie your pussy so hard. Holy fuck, Mommy.”

You wrap your legs around him, closing your arms around him as well while your left hand buries itself deep in his hair and your right grabs his tense ass. You are barely present yet, but the need to feel him paint your walls gives you enough strength to pull him close.

“I love you”, he chokes out and lets go. He isn’t silent like you were. He is loud. Oh so loud that after a few seconds he needs to muffle himself by sucking on your neck.

“I love you too”, you whimper, “my loving counterpart.”

“Oh”, he sobs and pulls you closer, “my soulmate”, he squeaks and tenses up again, “no-not done. Ah!”

“Let it all out, fill me up Bunny. Please don’t hold back.”

Jungkook paints you white until it drips out of you and his body’s strength forsakes him. The comedown is intense. Because Jungkook never stopped fucking you even after your high stopped, you never got to calm down and because Jungkook fucked himself to the point of ruin he feels just as needing for your embrace.

“Are you okay?” he whimpers.

“Yeah. You?” you get out.

“Yeah.”

He shivers and twitches on top of you, blanketing you in under his body weight and the real covers. They slipped off his back in the rough fucking so that now, they are only covering your lower bodies. You don’t feel cold because you have him keeping you warm.

Neither you nor him can talk for the first few minutes, sharing forced silence as your brains try to relearn how to speak. His ears are ringing, you can feel your pulse in your head. You are both sweaty, the heat grows in your bodies now that you are so melted together. His cock softens slowly, still filling you up and keeping most of his seed inside. Good. You don’t want him to leave yet.

You finally have him back after more than a month and you would be a fool to break the connection sooner than necessary. You know that sooner or later you will have to stop this. Not only because of your important post-sex pee, but also because Jungkook can’t fall asleep like this.

At least this is what you believe. Jungkook is in the midst of drifting off to sleep. Jetlag, stress and exhaustion are finally catching up with him. Now that his mind is cleared of that initial dulling desire for you, it is finally truly sinking in that he is back home. And being back home means comfort and sleep. Still being inside and having you cockwarm him while your fingers are drawing hearts on his back forces even more sleepiness to the surface. He is home. Sleep can finally come.

“Bunny?” you whisper, scratching up his back gently. Goosebumps follow your touch. He shudders as you drag shivers out of him.

“Hm”, the sound barely wants to leave him. It tickles your neck.

“Are you falling asleep?”

He nods his head slowly.

“Don’t”, you chuckle softly, shaking him by his back gently, “the post sex pee.”

“I’m tired”, he breathes and sighs, “so tired. Work…hell.”

“I know, Bunnybaby I know. But spending your break from it having an UTI is gonna suck.”

“Not yet. Please.”

You give up fighting him, exhaling deeply through your nose. He sounds so needing of what you currently have. You need it as well. 

“Fine”, you say and fish for the blanket to pull it over your bodies, “a few more minutes.”

You hug him against you, cradling the back of his head. Jungkook sighs and relaxes on top of you.

“I fucking missed you, Kook.”

“I missed you too.”

[chosocutegf]

morning sex with your boyfriend ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Choso x fem!reader

cw: p in v, unprotected sex

The morning light shines through the curtains, gently illuminating the room, while a pleasant breeze rushes from the open window, cooling the sticky summer air and making the curtains ruffle. In your haze, you mentally swear about going to sleep naked when the air brushes against your skin, making you shudder. You stir slightly before cuddling up against the warmth coming from your side.

“Should I close the window?,” Choso murmurs against your hair, his voice groggy and sleepy as he holds you closer to him, curling his hand against your lower back. You bury your face in his neck, letting out a soft sigh, his voice lulling you back to sleep. On the background of the soft morning, you hear the chirps of birds and the sound of the rain, interrupted only by your soft breaths, “no,” you shake your head slightly against him.

Your boyfriend hums and kisses your forehead, letting you nuzzle your nose against his jaw. His hand traces circles on your bare back, and your eyes grow heavy again when his other hand reaches the back of your head to stroke your hair. You yawn softly and Choso’s low chuckle rumbles against your chest, “are you falling asleep again?,” he murmurs against your skin, peppering soft kisses on the top of your head.

You hum and cuddle even closer to him, keeping your eyes closed while your boyfriend moves his hand away from your back to cup your cheek, and pull back slightly to look at your face. He smiles when he sees the little pout on your lips and your disheveled hair, before leaning closer to peck your lips, “why the pout, baby?,” he murmurs, even if he already knows the answer. You whine softly and tilt your head again towards him, kissing his lips softly, “because you woke me up”.

Choso laughs and raises his brows, observing as you furrow yours and, when you open your eyes, you playfully glare at him, “me? I think you are the one who woke me up because you were cold,” he explains softly, and you roll your eyes as he states the truth. “I still am, smartass,” you murmur, before burying your face back against his neck and raising his arm to wrap it around you.

Your boyfriend smiles as you curl yourself against him and he brings you even closer, reaching down to playfully slap your ass, “you’re the one who said I shouldn’t close the window, stupid,” he tells you, enjoying the way you gasp and try to swat his hand away. When you don’t answer, he understands you’re trying to fall back asleep so he continues teasingly, “should I warm you up in another way?”.

“Oh, god, I’m leaving,” you say, suddenly awake, before sighing as you pull away from him. But, he doesn’t even let you move an inch that he is already pulling you back, holding you down until he hovers above you and pins your wrists above your head, “you are not going anywhere”. You roll your eyes at Choso’s teasing tone and narrow your eyes up at him, “you’re insufferable,” you tell him, trying to pull away from the grip he has on you. He chuckles softly and leans down to kiss your neck, biting gently before he looks back in your eyes, a grin on his lips, “Am I?”.

You huff at his words, feeling your cheeks involuntary flush at his confident behaviour. Choso’s smirk widens even more at your reaction and leans down to leave a trail of kisses against your neck, his lips lingering for a few seconds against each spot. Your eyes close as you answer him, a little breathless, “yes, you are.”

Choso tuts lightly at your words, and a breath leaves your lips when he releases your wrists and moves lower, kissing your collarbone and lower, grinning against your skin when he reaches above your breasts and you slightly arch your back. “Tell me more then, about how I’m so insufferable”.

You suck in your bottom lip at his words, your eyes closed as he teasingly kisses around your left nipple, his hand reaching your right breasts and squeezing it gently, purposely avoiding to pleasure you, “see? You’re annoyi- ah”. A moan leaves your mouth when he licks your nipple before sucking it gently, his fingers pinching the other one which stiffens under his attention.

“I’m what?,” he asks with mock innocence, looking up at you with a grin before moving lower and kissing your stomach. You roll your eyes at his teasing, and raise a leg, ready to kick him away but he holds your ankle, chuckling. He leaves a kiss there, positioning himself between your legs, as if it has been his target for all this time. Of course it was, “Choso-”.

“Can I fuck you now, baby? Seeing you so worked up made me hard,” he tells you, biting his lower lip as he takes your other leg and spreads them open, his breath hitching when he sees your bare cunt. You glance down his body and a wave of desire runs straight down your core when you see his hard cock, twitching at the sight your spread legs.

“Again? I’m still sore from yesterday, Cho,” you say exasperated because last night he kept you up until late, drilling in your pussy until tears were running down both of your faces. Choso huffs softly against your ankle, kissing down your calf while he keeps your gaze fixed on yours, “please, baby”.

You keep looking down at him in silence, both of you knowing that you will give up eventually. Your boyfriend keeps kissing higher, reaching your inner thighs and nestling himself between them, closing his eyes at the smell of your core so close to his mouth, making his salivate, “c’mon, baby, you know I’ll be soft”.

You roll your eyes at his words, and reach down to move away a strand of hair from his face, raising a brow at him, “we both know that you won’t”. Choso pouts at your words and playfully sniffles, bringing a hand to his chest, “are you saying I’m a liar?”. You chuckle softly at his expression and roll your eyes, stroking his hair before you guide him back to hover above you, “yes, and you’re also insufferable,” you joke, laughing softly when he fakes to be offended by your words. However, a grin spreads on his lips at the sound of your laugh and he leans down to kiss your lips gently.

“Be gentle,” you warn him against his lips and he nods before guiding his length to your core. You hold him close, sloppily kissing him, and feeling yourself getting wetter when his tip teases your entrance, slapping against your clit. You gasp and swat at his chest, making him smile as you murmur against his kiss, “stop teasing or I’ll break up with you”.

Choso kisses you harder at your words, silencing you. You whimper against his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist when he finally bottoms out inside you. “Fuck, doll, you’re so tight,” he whispers, groaning when he tries to pull back but your cunt clenches around him.

He bring two fingers to your mouth and he groans at the way your lips wrap around them, your tongue swirling and sucking. His cock twitches inside you, and you moan when he pulls his fingers away and brings them to rub your clit in tight circles.

Your boyfriend pulls his cock back and slides back inside, whimpering when you clamp down on him, your juices creating a white ring at his base. “Baby, god… I fuck you everyday and your pussy is still so tight,” he growls, his forehead resting against your shoulder before he increases his pace, slowly forgetting to be gentle with you.

But your mind fogs at the pleasure that spreads all over your body, making your legs tremble and your pussy clamp down on him, your clit swelling under his fingers, “s’good, Cho,” you moan. Your nails sink down his shoulders and your eyes roll back as his thrusts get deeper, his cock abusing your walls deliciously.

Choso moves away, before gripping your waist and moving you to sit on his lap, guiding his cock inside you one more time. Your arms wrap around his neck and you throw your head back at the sensation of him hit deeper inside you with the new position. He wraps his arms around your back, breathing hard and whimpering as he thrusts back up inside you.

“You’re so good, baby,” he moans, pulling you even closer to latch his mouth around your nipple. You cry out in pleasure, feeling yourself getting closer as you cling to him, meeting his thrusts lazily. Choso moves his mouth away, licking your neck and biting it as he ruts inside you faster. “I’m close, fuck… I’m close, baby, please I need you to come first,” he moans, sucking on your neck before he reaches down to rub your clit again. A hiccup leaves your lips before you come around him, arching your back and burying your face in his neck, moaning his name loudly.

Your boyfriend swears when he feels your pussy tightening around him and he grips your ass tightly, slapping you down on him before he stills and fills you with his cum. Choso curls on himself, moaning against your skin as he sloppily rides his orgasm and fucks his cum back inside you. You relax against him as he caresses your hair, holding you close to him as he kisses your head. You shiver when another breeze hits your naked body, and when you look up towards the window, your eyes widen and you push away from your boyfriend, “it’s raining inside, Cho”.

this one made me so soft and i miss summer (ᵒ̴̶̷᷄﹏ᵒ̴̶̷᷅)

(m.list)

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the heavy weight of guilt (part two)

words: 700

warnings: 18+ only, smut, cheating, p in v sex, unprotected sex

part one / part two

“what the fuck did you do?” rafe growls.

“what?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. “you would never leave her unless she found out, so i made it so you have to be with just me.”

“you're fucking crazy if you think im going to stay with you after you destroyed my family.” rafe grunts out.

“destroyed? you did that by cheating on your wife. don't blame me for exposing the truth.”

“the truth is that you came into me, practically forced yourself onto me.”

“yet you were completely willing. don't be ridiculous rafe. you don't even care about your dumb kids or stupid wife anyways. all you care about is fucking young pussy.”

“aren't you worried ill leave you some day then? get with someone younger as you grow old and wrinkle.” rafe tilts his head to the side, trying to anger you even more.

“oh rafe” you laugh maniacally. “i will never let you leave me. i wont lose you like your wife did.”

“goddamn it.” rafe grunts, bending down and picking you up, slinging you over your shoulder like you're just a sack of flour.

“damn, you're strong when you're pissed.” you chuckle, which just makes rafes hold on you tighten further.

“shut up, please.” he begs. he needs to get his anger and frustration out, and since you're the cause of his guilt, it's going to be by using you.

“fine, we can talk about our new living arrangements after you fuck me silly.” you know you're only antagonizing rafe further as he tosses you onto the bed, throwing you so hard you bounce against the mattress.

“i hate you.” rafe says before smashing his lips against yours, dominating your mouth as his hands begin to strip you of your clothing, pulling it away until you're naked.

“get undressed, let me see you.” you say, trying to unbutton rafes shirt, but he just pushes your hand away.

“im gonna fuck you how i want to fuck you. you're not in control anymore.” 

you're surprised by his sure dominance. he's always been on top before, but he's never disobeyed you.

you keep quiet, lips practically sealing closed as rafe undoes his pants, tugging his zipper down just to pull his cock out, already hard like it always is whenever he's around you.

“god, look at you.” rafe groans when you spread your legs, pussy blossoming open for him like it always does. “such a little slut. my slut, and now im yours too. you made sure of that, huh?”

you're not sure how to respond, but rafe barely gives you any time anyways as he pushes forward, plunging his cock inside of you in one smooth motion.

despite his size, he gives you not even a moment to adjust as he begins to fuck you without a care, snapping his hips forward, focused solely on his own pleasure.

you try to keep your body relaxed as you watch rafe above you. his eyes are on you but they're glossed over, like he's in another place.

you sit up rapidly, tapping your palm against his face. “hey.” you grunt. “you're not thinking of someone else right?”

“what, like my soon to be ex wife? so what if i am? you ruined that already.” 

you move quickly, pulling your body away only to grab rafe and bring him forward onto the bed. he's so surprised by your sudden show of stretch that when you flip him over onto his back he doesn't question it.

“it's only me. you're mine forever.” you sink your pussy down on rafes cock.

his moans betray him as his head tilts back, mouth wide as you ride him, moving your hips quickly and aggressively to spur him on, not caring that your pussy is already sore.

“mine.” you growl as your hands attack the buttons on his shirt until you're able to pull the two sides open and reveal his bare torso, muscled and covered with a faint dusting of hair.

“i know, shit.” rafe knew he was yours from the moment your lips met, cementing the end of his marriage and end of the good guy streak he had going for many years.

“and you're going to cum in me and actually get me pregnant.” you already stopped taking your birth control the day after you sent that video to rafes wife. “and you'll like this kid and raise it how you want and never leave them or me.”

“god, you're fucking crazy.” rafe says, hips rising up to meet yours.

“and that's why you'll be mine forever.”

[konigsblog]

i think about this a little too often...

synopsis; kidnapped by a ‘photographer’ who spares you no mercy.

photographer, kidnapper-könig thots™

tw/cw; rape, non-con/dub-con, dark fiction, sexual assault and assault, kidnapping, the dove is dead. dead dove: do not eat. 🔞

photo credits; x_bruisedpeach_x on x/🐦

if someone had warned you that the sweet boy who had approached you down the street claiming to be a model photographer was in fact a violent man, who'd kidnap and beat you until you were unrecognisable and nothing but a bloodied mess on his dirty basement floor, you wouldn't believe them.

könig came across as calm and relaxed, he seemed sweet when you spoke to him, with a surprisingly quiet voice for someone of his size.

at first, he came across as threatening and intimidating as he towered over you and gazed at you creepily before finally speaking up, but after inviting you down the road for a coffee together to talk about his photography career, you had agreed eagerly to come around to his house to take some photos together and act as a model for him. you should've been alarmed from the start when a random, old pervert had asked to take pictures of you, but the thought and dream of becoming a model left you blind to any and all danger, falling for his depraved, immoral plan to kidnap a pretty little thing like you for himself.

when you stepped into his house, the atmosphere shifted suddenly and completely. könig no longer radiated a sweet, calm energy that you once knew of. instead, könig was no longer smiling sweetly, but instead a sickening grin curled the sides of his mouth with terrifyingly wide eyes staring into your soul, enough to scare you into silence. you choked on your words as könig began to inch closer before dragging you downstairs into his basement by your hair. his grip was tight, firm. he held your hair in his fist and would drag you, throwing you downstairs despite your wails and mortified screams. it's a shame that he lives in a secluded area, far from any other neighborhood or town, where nobody would hear your wails for help.

you were a vulnerable and naïve mess. he almost felt guilty and remorseful for this treatment when he threw his fist at you repetitively, seeing how you'd eventually come to take his beatings out of horror and terror, blood running down your chin from your split lip. you were too gorgeous for any other man and he worried someone would take you away for themselves. he didn't want people to recognise you from the missing person posters put up around the city, with your face plastered on all the pictures, so instead, he left your face swollen with marks, making sure that you were always bruised with a slap, punch, or spanking.

although one thing was true. not his attitude and the persona he put on, the façade of a kind-hearted boy. the truth was that he wanted to take photos of you, but not for modeling, for his own sick enjoyment, gratification, and pleasure.

the basement wasn't like any other modeling shoot you'd seen in movies or television shows. instead, there was a metal table that könig had strapped you down to, and one large camera recording the entire thing. you were stripped naked, your dignity stripped alongside your clothes. you couldn't fight it, not when you were weakened and understood what would happen if you cried too loudly and irritated him or distracted him for his work, or used your sharp nails and canines against him as weapons.

bare on his table, könig began to record despite the obvious discomfort and mortification in your wide, glossy eyes. the flashing red light left you ashamed, feeling too raw and exposed with your legs forced open and your puffy cunt for him to admire and grope. he'd pinch and clamp your sensitive clit, until you sobbed out painfully, only to be forced to take his girthy and lengthy size for hours on end until he had his fill for the day. although könig warned you not too weep too loudly, he desired the sound of your sobbing, to harden his already stiff cock.

nothing would stop könig from raping every hole you have, to use these videos and pictures for his own personal usage.

[krispykollection]

Peanut Butter

Part 1: Anjay

"Seriously Anjay you're eating more of that stuff? Look at yourself, do you really think you need more? You're practically bursting out of your skin already."

Gosh, I almost can't even believe how we got here. If you had asked me if I'd be standing backstage at a local bodybuilding show with a hulked out and glistening version of my best friend Anjay, I'd have for sure thought I were hallucinating off some bad lunch… Funny how close to truth that would end up to be.

It all started 3 days ago when an unannounced package appeared on our doorstep addressed to Anjay. Not only was he not expecting anything, the contents were even stranger. Pulling off the packing paper revealed contents not immediately familiar to two skinny young men like us.

To the left a shimmery pile of purple blueish fabric. Anjay held it up cautiously as it unfurled. The garment presented itself as a bikini, the sight of it filling both of us with an awkward embarrassment of being in possession of such an obscene object.

Anjay quickly dropped it on the table before turning his attention back to the box. I had to lean in closer to make out the next object of mystery. A brown bottle of… tanning oil? "What kind of crazed sex fetish shit is this, David?" Anjay turned to me and questioned.

I didn't know what to say, so I just looked back down at what's left. The remaining item, while on the one hand familiar, only served to confuse further. It was a container of plain old peanut butter. At least something normal, but what on earth did it have to do with any of this? As I picked it up to examine it closer a final item was revealed underneath, and with it an explanation.

"Ohhh" we remarked in unison with the kind of trailing off that makes it clear we're still skeptical. It was a pass for what appeared to be a local bodybuilding show and not just any kind of pass, one for a competitor. That well explained the first two items, not a bikini, but a pair of posers, and not just any tanning oil, the kind used to cake a fake shimmering bronze sheen onto huge muscle heads so they can show off their freakish masses onstage.

The peanut butter could be reasoned to be just a backstage snack for a lunk like the probable intended recipient, but that's where the last mystery comes into play. The name on the badge, it was Anjay's. Realizing the same, he flipped the top flap of the box back to check the address on the shipping label, sure enough it was ours. "Hmph…" he said defeatedly.

In an effort to put a quick and tidy end to the strange past few minutes we had found ourselves in, I offered up a solution. "I guess there must be some other Anjay Bajwa in the area, the show probably just got the wrong address."

Anjay tacitly agreed. I'm sure we both knew the obvious holes in that explanation, our town isn't all that big, and being solidly in the midwest of the united states, Anjay Bajwa was not exactly a common name.

"This guy probably wants this… stuff, right? Should we, uh, try to find him?" Anjay weakly questioned.

I conjured up the image of the intended recipient. Some roided out freak standing wider than a doorway with arms bigger than my head ready to crush someone like me in a single moment. A rush of fear ran down my spine. With a similar picture playing out in Anjay's head, we turned to face each other and in unison uttered "Nah…"

Anjay put the items back in the box and loosely closed the flaps. He tossed it in the corner of the room to hopefully forget about, at least for a awhile.

I wish I could say the strangeness ended there, in fact that was almost true, all the way up to this morning.

I woke up before Anjay. The apartment was bare so I decided to head out early, grab a coffee and a bite, and run some errands. When I got back in the late morning I could sense something was off even before I opened our front door.

Through the opening door I spotted not Anjay, but a nearly naked yoked out freak. I stood frozen for a moment. He was thankfully facing away from me admiring himself in the small mirror hanging on the wall. I spied something familiar, the colorful posers. That's when it hit me, this must be the other Anjay looking for his package. A rush of fear shot down my spine, what if he's pissed we had it? Just look at those fucking arms, that back, he could pulverize me without breaking a sweat.

I stood there long enough for the creature to take notice. As he turned to face me, my fear took it's place as a side dish, with a main course of bewilderment. It was Anjay, my Anjay, from neck up at least, or what's left of it. Finally I broke my silence exclaiming "What the hell, man?!"

"Dave! I'm soo glad you're home! Bro, drop that stuff but hold onto your keys, we gotta hurry!" I instinctively stepped out of the way as he came powering towards me. In another second he was out the door, a gust of wind cast from his wide torso the only remnant by the time I had spun around. He was halfway down the hallway by the time I made it out the door. I was astonished he could move so fast with how big his legs had gotten, they clashed with every step yet he was practically sprinting to the parking lot. Still he was clad in nothing but those posers, but passerby's opted to say nothing, either terrified by the sight in front of them or insanely aroused.

Thankfully I hadn't locked my car doors, otherwise Anjay might have ripped the door clear off the hinges. The shocks of my late model sub compact protested as he slammed his weight into my passenger seat. Jeez, how much does he, does Anjay weigh now? Following his lead, I quickly hopped into the car myself. As I got in though, I slammed into what felt like cement, but turned out to be Anjay's arm.

"Huh, sorry bro, not used to my new width." Did he always say bro so much?

"Where exactly are we going in such a hurry?" I ask. That's when he pulled out another familiar item, the badge, pointing at it and exclaiming "Remember this? The expo center!"

"You've got to be kidding me!" too much had happened, too much had changed, it's all I could blurt out. "Look at me Dave, I'm gonna clean up bro!" Okay, that's a bro every sentence. "C'mon, we're gonna be late!" I took a second to sit and process as he sat by anxiously… "Okay, fine we'll go, but you gotta tell me what the hell happened to you."

Anjay was more than happy to tell the story of his morning. He started before I could even shift into reverse.

"Bro! oh my god bro, you won't believe it! So I woke up and there was like nothing in the house, but then I remembered that peanut butter from the other day. I grabbed a big ol' spoonful and plopped my ass on the couch."

As he spoke I found it hard to pay attention to the road, he was so animated, only exaggerated by his newly huge muscles, they were bulging everywhere at the slightest movement.

"A few minutes later, I started feeling this fuzzy feeling, I didn't know what it was, but it felt good. Bro that's when I noticed something else, my body was moving under my clothes, I lifted up my shirt and I had abs, abs bro!"

He took the opportunity to point at his obvious abs, flexing as he did.

"Once I connected the dots I practically ran back to the tub and dug back in… and before I knew it I looked and it was half gone! I knew I had fucked up, so I ran to the bathroom to check out the damage."

"My clothes were pulling apart at the seams, huge fucking peaks ripping through the arms, pecs busting out the front." He flexed each muscle group as he called it out. "Fuckin' delts, abs, quads, lats, traps, my god bro, you have no idea how good it felt, how good I feel!"

I recognized some of those words as he said them, using his obvious context clues for the ones I didn't. I had no idea Anjay was so knowledgeable about muscle.

"I didn't want to completely freak you out." Mission decidedly not accomplished. "So I tried to find something to wear, but the only thing that would fit were those posers… when I slipped them on bro oh shit, they felt so good, I looked so good, but then something else happened. My mind started filling with all this new knowledge… muscle groups, workout routines, diets, supplements, cycles, poses! Before I knew it I was a champion bodybuilder, through and through!"

"Yeah, you can say that again…" I said acknowledging the physical embodiment of his statement. "I'm worried those posers might of sucked some knowledge out of you Anjay, since when do you use bro as a punctuation mark?"

"Haha, don't be silly bro, I've always talked like this… and call me AJ."

AJ? I sat there just wishing for my friend Anjay back, not this beefed up bro'd out version of him. Hesitantly I continued, "Ok… AJ, I just didn't know you were so into muscle?"

"I wasn't…" he paused "at least I think I wasn't, but I mean look at me bro, who wouldn't want this?" With that he raised both of his arms up to flex. As he did his lats? flared out and brushed my shoulder. "Shit, I didn't even know you could even have muscles there."

"Bro I got muscles everywhere and then some. Look at the class on my badge, super heavyweight… damn right! Fuck, I'm so pumped, I'm gonna crush it!"

Anjay… I mean AJ, had his bare foot on the ground before I had even come to a full stop upon arriving. Again I followed in tow. Unlike at the apartment, the sight of a muscleman clothed only in a shiny pair of posers was of shock to no one inside. It's what they're all here to see, what I was here to see I guess?

He led us straight backstage, scattered around were other men and their own companions all getting ready for their time onstage. Looking around I was shocked to realize that AJ was the biggest of any of them.

"Bro, take this," he handed me the bottle of tanning oil "you gotta help me tan up."

I was taken aback "I uhh… well I mean, I don't uhh." I looked around, elsewhere many men were doing the same, but I couldn't I mean, we're friends, but I.

"Fine," he grabbed the bottle back "I'll get started."

He dotted the bronze tan across his chest and started rubbing it in, following it up with his legs and arms. If you thought he looked insane before, with the shimmery coat of tan his new freakish form really popped. Halfway through, I heard his gut grumble, he turned back to grab something else, the peanut butter.

---

"Seriously Anjay you're eating more of that stuff? Look at yourself, do you really think you need more? You're practically bursting out of your skin already."

"I told you bro, call me AJ. Anjay sounds so… formal. As for this," he says as he gulps down a spoonful "I'm lickin' this baby clean…" "Now, I've done as much as I can, I need your help buddy, I can't reach my back." He contorts his arms up and over or behind and up showing just how far he is from reaching.

"I guess there's one downside to all those shiny new muscles," I quip.

"I wouldn't call it a downside, not when I have a bro like you…" with that he made a little pouty face unbecoming of his brutal form. I relent and swallow my awkwardness. "Hand me the bottle." His eyes light up.

I walk around AJ, and I mean around, and find myself staring at the contrasted light patch of his wide back. Man, I really wish I had gloves for this, I lament as I squirt a dollop into my palm. Distributing it between my hands I took a deep breath… here goes nothing.

I feel a jolt of electricity run though me as I make contact. Something's changed, something's flipped. I watch myself as I spread the bronze coating. The back in front of me is the same, but the interpretation has changed. It's not shocking, nor disgusting, it's a thing of beauty. I zoom out in my head, my god, the whole thing is, he is, AJ is. I feel my hands gliding over the many ridges of his back, turning perfection into more perfection. That's when I notice something else, the effects from the latest bite of peanut butter… he's growing. I can see his flesh expanding between my fingers, I can feel it press ever so slightly more against my hands. I've never felt so connected to AJ and I know he can feel it too. The world around us taking a backseat to our own shared reality.

I reapply and venture my hands further down south ensuring that his colossal glutes get the attention they deserve. I pull down his posers, ensuring every inch gets covered. Before I know it my fingers found themselves deep inside as I gently tease his hole. Electricity shoots through me again as I watch him squirm.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a figure coming in hot to our left. Fuck, we're busted, I think, followed up quickly by a different thought, wait, what the fuck am I doing?

The figure comes into focus, it's a frantic respectfully beefed up man in an official looking polo.

"There you are!" he yells out to us as I casually snap AJ's poser back into place. "You missed check-in, you better come with me right now if you don't wanna get DQ'd."

Not allowing for any protest he grabs AJ's hand to lead him away, muttering under his breath as he does, "These lunks, the big ones can't hold a thought in their head outside of their next rep…"

AJ grabs the peanut butter as he stumbles, then walks away. In between bites he shouts back "Grab a seat bro, I'll be lookin' for ya!"

With nowhere else to go I follow his instructions and find a seat in the amphitheater. In the relative calm I have a moment to process the events of the past few hours. Here I am, sitting at a bodybuilding competition waiting for my best friend to walk onstage and show off his insane muscles. I thought about how I feel about that, I have a vague recollection of being scared and confused, but now it seems clear. AJ's got muscles, he's a bodybuilder, of course we're at a bodybuilding competition. The only thing I feel now is anticipation.

I flash back to backstage as I sit and wait. I can't get the image out of my head. His muscles… so big, so hot, muscles are hot, AJ is hot, fuck! AJ is hot! I can't wait to see him again, to touch, I shiver. Almost on command the lights in the amphitheater lower to signal the start of the show.

Competitors start marching onstage, they all have nothing on AJ, I think, only confirming more as they continue to appear. The stage slowly fills as each hits their mark. Still no sign of AJ. I briefly worry something happened to him.

But then, the backlights of the stage are snubbed out by a hulking figure. It steps out under the stage lights. It's unlike any other man up onstage, it's hard to believe it's man at all. It's AJ.

A hush washes over the amphitheater. You couldn't just see, but you could feel his movements, you could hear him coming. The thuds of his footsteps, the stretch of his posers trying to hold back the mass he's become.

He hasn't even flexed a muscle yet but all eyes were on him. I had no idea a man could be so beautiful. He is absolutely bursting with muscle. Every limb, every surface stacked with veiny glistening meat. I find myself getting hard. I stroke my cock through my shorts and make note of many other men in the audience doing the same.

AJ is wearing a cocky smile confirming that he is aware of all our gazes. He coyly takes his place in the lineup, pretending that there's any possible way the show will go on as planned now that everyone has seen him.

To their credit, they did attempt to run though a few poses, but even those onstage found it hard to hold form when their attention was quickly snapping back to their muscled colleague. Noticing this, AJ steps forward to give everyone what they wanted, his juicy up body, up close and personal.

AJ goes through an entire routine like he's spent ages perfecting every pose. His front double bi threatens to encase his head in delt and bicep meat. His ab and thigh positively does. And those thighs, wide sweeping drops of muscle, transforming into carved marble columns as he stomps down.

He turns around to face the other competitors, winking at their astonished faces as he does. It's time to give everyone else the a view of what they've been seeing. His lat spread seems to just go wider and wider without any sign of stopping. And his glutes, my god, they're absolutely planetary.

Spinning back around, AJ playfully takes a customary bow indicating the end of the show. It was indeed the end of the show and he needn't move from that spot on center stage. Not wanting to keep the godlike figure waiting, officials rush out and crown him champion.

There's no lineup. Second, third, who cares, everyone else is a blur. He's first, second, and third both in size and perfection. Medals in hand, AJ turns and leaves the stage, leaving the crowd to reflect on what they just witnessed.

I find AJ backstage, swarmed by all types, attendees, officials, media, competitors, they all couldn't get enough of him, couldn't get close enough to him. He sees me and pushes his wide body through the crowd like it's nothing. He doesn't even skip a beat as he scoops me up and carries me out of the room.

I can tell I weigh nothing to him. I'm a warmup weight. Even without being terribly stressed, his muscles were putting on a show for me. I watch his biceps and pecs bulge to hold me, just taking in the sensation of being cradled by muscle. We lock eyes and smile knowingly.

AJ whisks us away into a side room away from the crowd and gently sets me down in front of him. The room is bare aside from us and the plastic taped on walls and floor for tan smearing muscle beasts like AJ. Not exactly what you'd call ambiance, but it didn't matter. We have all we need.

Without saying a word I step forward and place my hands on his chest. He flexes in approval. I feel a jolt run though me as I feel his pecs shift from beautiful pillows to striated boulders. I lean down and press my cheek against his cobblestone abs. I linger just feeling the motion of his gut contracting and expanding with every breath.

I bring my hands down to his posers and slip them down, his dick pleasingly flops out already semi-hard. As he comes to full mast I realize it's larger than I remember. It didn't grow as much as everything else, but it's still impressive. A stiff golden rod setting itself out from his dark bronzed quads.

I wrap my lips briefly around just the tip before taking it in deep with a skill like I had done this hundreds of times before. I'm in ecstasy as I feel AJ fill me so completely, as I hear him moan with pleasure while I hit all the right spots, as I watch his quads twitch up close and personal with every suck. His movements and breaths become sharply staccato as I take him to climax.

AJ grunts with gorilla-like intensity as he rockets three hot, huge, loads down my throat. I stand up and wipe my lips as AJ comes back down to earth. Once he does, he chooses to finally break the silence with, "It's your turn now, bro." His voice booms deeper than I remember, the statement hitting me like a ton of bricks. He turns around and fully drops his posers, struggling briefly against his quad meat as he does.

My already erect member twitches even harder at the sight of his uncovered ass. Even more so when he leans forward and his massive cheeks split. I hastily drop my pants and am practically pulled in like a vortex. I place my soft hands on AJ's granite glutes before inserting my cock into his waiting hole. I'm glad I went in so deep with the tan earlier, it serving as rudimentary lube.

As I begin to thrust, I watch the dancing mountainous landscape of AJ's back in front of me. His ass is magnificent, so firm and tight. Every few strokes he squeezes his mighty glutes ever so little sending pleasure rocketing through me and also reminding me that he could crush my dick to smithereens in a single flex if he wanted to, this only serving to rile me even more. Regardless, it's clear who is in control in this moment, he wants this just as bad as I do.

I collapse forward onto AJ's back as I cum. We both stay in this position for a few seconds while we catch our breath. Standing back up, we make ourselves as decent as we can. AJ pulling his skimpy poser back into place and me pulling my pants back up and trying and failing to wipe the stripes of bronzer now all over my skin and clothes.

I laugh as I look up at AJ. "What?" he asks.

"Sorry, I wore a spot out on your tan, haha."

AJ chuckles to himself as he turns to face me. "Oh shit bro, but look at you" I'm practically covered in splotches of bronzer. "Honestly, doesn't look to bad on ya, have you ever considered bodybuilding?" AJ heartily boasts. We both chuckle with the silly question serving to encapsulate the wild ride we both have been on.

"Something tells me there's a lot more of this to come, but first… this tank bro" AJ slaps his bloated muscle gut, "she's gonna need a lot more than peanut butter to fill 'er up."

With that we head back out together in search of what I assume is an ungodly amount of food to fill up my hulking best friend… boyfriend? possibly.

We're a total mess, anyone looking at us would have no trouble putting together what we just did. We hold our heads high regardless, because who gives a fuck, like you wouldn't if you could. But you can't, so might as well flaunt what's mine. Besides in reality no one is giving me a second glance next to him.

---

In that first stroll together as an item out in the world, AJ and David find themselves in a place of pure joy and contentment, ecstatic about their budding new reality and relationship. Little did they know what was coming next.

Waiting innocently on their doorstep… another package… Wonder who it's addressed to?

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Beach day with König

CW: 18+ only, protected p in v sex in a semi-public place, size kink, friends to lovers, possessive but slightly emotionally unavailable König

König wants to take you to the beach one day. He has water and some munch already packed, along with a bottle of sunscreen, and he's looking illegally hot there at your door with one of those rare smiles on his face.

You like to think he's reserved his smiles just for you, but the truth is you never know if König is flirting with you without knowing it, or if he's deliberately teasing you and making your heart ache. You can't get to the bottom of who this mysterious Austrian giant truly is, but you know he likes to spend time with you. That must count for something, right…?

You have to go to the same stall to change because there's a shortage of free changing rooms; it's the most beautiful day so of course everyone else is at the beach too.

You only need to grab your swimwear and towel, but you want to add your share to the beach picnic and so you quickly shove the last of the blueberry muffins you baked yesterday into a tupperware box. You almost melt on the spot when König says you have to feed them to him because his hands will soon be covered in sunscreen. Someone has to make sure you don't burn in the sun, oder nichts?

You've done all kinds of shit together but König has never seen you naked. You try to keep it cool – it's okay: you're both adults, it's no big deal. Friends can share the same changing room, and König has always been the perfect gentleman when it comes to these things.

It's just that you wouldn't mind if his eyes wandered a little... You know you wouldn't blame him for that, if he didn't blame you for taking a peek.

A little peek never hurt anyone, but you never knew what it would cost you. You never knew you'd end up against the stall wall with him inside you.

The reserved gentleman you used to know is completely gone. König tears the condom package open with his teeth and rolls the plastic protection on with no shame whatsoever. Trojan Magnum thin, you manage to catch as the torn package ends up somewhere on the floor of the changing room. You can't believe he came here prepared…

You wonder where his usual shyness went when he too cheated on his promise not to look when you change. You wonder where the polite, considerate man went when König presents himself to you, fully naked, uncut and huge.

You're barely able to nod when he bluntly asks if you want to fuck.

The shy, awkward recruit is nowhere to be seen as König raises you against the rough, unpainted boards and spreads your thighs. The sounds of strain and exertion mainly come from him sliding his cock into you, not from him having to carry your full weight.

You always thought your first time with König – if such a thing ever came – would be something more traditional, more romantic. You always thought it'd be a Netflix & chill kind of moment. This guy has taken you out to have a chaste little meal or to see some stupid movie, for weeks and weeks now. König has the most awful taste in films, but you've endured, just like you've endured his monologues about knives and sniping. König has offered you his huge sweater when you were cold, he's has entertained your need to read poems to him, just as bravely as you have entertained his silly ramblings about yet another Böker knife. You have done a million pranks to the other recruits together. Everyone at the barracks is sick of your stupid inside jokes, everyone says you two are the worst. The 'big goblin' and the 'small goblin', they call you apparently...

Close friends don't fuck like wild animals inside a changing room, you think while he rails you as controlled and muffled as he can – you fear what would happen to you, not to talk of the poor stall, if König was allowed to fuck you to his hearts and dicks content. You never knew the socially awkward but intense sniper candidate would take you to a beach and then ask if you want to fuck. On your worst days you've swallowed tears along with the shy question of would he ever want to be more than just friends.

The only time König ever touched you was when he allowed you to try his favourite rifle. The only time you ever kissed him was after your date nights, and even then it was just a quick peck on the cheek. You were never quite sure if you were just close friends with König.

You almost lose it when he grunts into your neck how he's wanted to do this for a long time. Wanted to fuck you, or fuck a woman against a changing room wall, you don't know, but you hold on to his sweaty neck as best as you can. You have to bite his shoulder to prevent loud, long-held cries from coming out. It only makes König more unhinged, though: you sinking your teeth in him like that.

Now he's infiltrating you with the passion of a man about to die if he doesn't get some pussy. Or like a dog, finally allowed to rut a female in heat. If you two were the only people here, he would probably sound like an animal, too. You know you would.

"When we... When we get back, I'll fuck you properly. Long, and hard. Hm?"

"Y–yes," you whisper on his skin – you don't know if you've ever been this flustered. You fear everyone on the beach will know what you've been doing just from how dumb you will look after this. The bite marks on König's shoulder are enough to tell people that your "close friend" is good at more than just shooting a gun.

When you cum, you sound like a widow sobbing at a funeral; when he cums, he sounds like he's dying from a stab wound. You both sound like two people trying to muffle their sorrow instead of trying to fuck their brains out.

And he won't let you down even when he's done with you. He won't let you down, not even as you squirm and whimper in his hold.

"You're mine now, right?" He pants into your ear while covered in a thin sheen of sweat. It's far from any kind of gentlemanly behavior, that low, possessive growl. Your eyes brim with tears – you like him too much when he's spontaneous and a bit crazy like this. You could fall in love with a man like König.

"I always was," you whisper, and he finally puts you down, content with everything you just gave him. You swear you just heard a soft, pleased rumble rising from that broad chest… But some part of that stoic, reserved soldier you know from the skills training and movie nights makes an appearance when you put your swimwear on. König is perfectly in control while you, in turn, are feeling awkward and completely flushed. At least there's no cum running down your thighs as you prepare for your day at the beach...

And who knew König would be so whiny? The condom you used is full as hell, and he has nowhere to put it because there's no trash can in the stall. He grunts as you try to hold in your laughter — he overall looks like he would prefer it if condoms disappeared from the face of the earth entirely so he could feel you without the plastic barrier in between. You giggle when you watch him smuggle it into the nearest trash after wrapping it inside a paper towel.

You spend the rest of the day at the beach, looking like you're the first people who have just discovered love and the fine art of fucking. He can't take his eyes off you, and you can't take his eyes off him. You play in the water, not as friends, but as lovers. Some elderly lady comes to scold you and says there are children here at the beach. You have your legs wrapped around König underwater, and your arms around his neck above: there's nothing lewd going on. But König grows red, all the way from the neck up. That's when you know he has probably never taken a woman in a public place; sometimes you wonder if he has ever taken a woman at all. The big Austrian sniper-to-be remains a mystery as he brings you some ice cream like the gentleman he is, then licks it off from your fingers like a starved dog. He's hot and cold, and confident and shy, feral and distant all in one day.

"You're mine now... All mine."

He "fucks you properly" when you get back, making your whole apartment smell of sex and desperation. And he says it again... That you belong to him. He says it with a shattered, hungry stare, both fragile and frightening.

[eilidh-eternal]

Touch Up

Part of the Martyr in the Making series | Part 1 | Masterlist |

| 18 + MDNI | TattooArtist!Ghost x f!reader | cw for dub con/non con themes and heavy implications of grooming |

There's an insatiable itch beneath your skin that has nothing to do with the fresh ink and plasma that seeps from punctured flesh, and everything to do with a smug bastard named Simon fucking Riley.

Five days earlier…

“How ya doin’ sweetheart?” He has no right to sound this way. No right to let honey and smoke mix in his throat and spill from his lips in dark, dulcet tones. You blame the buzzing in your head, ricocheting off of your skull with each searing stroke of the needle he wields.

“Fine,” you say in a whispery breath. The hum of the needle goes quiet. That’s okay. The trilling heart in your chest is doing a fine job of replacing it. 

Pools of liquid amber, dark and rich like brandy, slide from the nearly finished linework to your face, half hidden in your hoodie, and flood your gaze with an intoxicating warmth. There’s no running from it, from the fire he’s started. The flames he fans and tends to with each murmuration of praise licks up your spine in searing tendrils, smothers the remnants of a fragmented rationale in a blanket of smoldering cinders.

A pierced brow glides up towards the fraying hem of his black knit cap as he straightens from his hunched over position. “I’ll ask one more time, an’ I expect an honest answer—d’ya need a break?” Amber petrifies under his scrutiny, as if you’re some antediluvian creature, suspended in the thrall of his gaze. Something pretty to perch on a shelf and marvel at.

Your eyes dart away, searching the patterns in the woodgrain of the cabinets for answers, divining particle board like a tarot spread. As if any of them would sound less pathetic than the truth. 

His hand slides, branding weight upon your skin, away from your waist and you fight the whine clawing up your throat. Swallow it down with the rest of the bad ideas right behind it. Plastic wheels scuff across fading concrete floors and the frayed edges of distressed denim replaces wood. Black, like everything else he wears, down to the powdery gloves and surgical mask. Bet his boxers are black, too.

When your eyes dare to meet his again the flames licking up your spine splutter, send sparks dancing up your vertebrae in shivery, glittering plumes. “I’m okay. Could use some water,” you settle on. It’s a shaky truth, flimsy and liable to crumble, but a truth nonetheless. You’d rather suffer whatever consequence comes with lying to him than lay yourself bare.

As if you aren’t already half naked in front of the man. As if he hasn't been toying with the waistband of your thong the entire session.

Your admission seems to mollify him, but the black titanium bar curving through a dusting of blond twitches. Remains cocked as he rocks back, leans across the counter in a truly obscene display, long tee clinging to every dip and curve, and plucks your water bottle from your bag.

It looks silly and small in his hand, dented metal covered in a collage of overlapping stickers, no trace of the scratched black paint besides the exposed underside. The tendons in his forearms shift beneath fabric as he turns it over to study the sticker Gaz had given you, ‘141 collective’ printed in a gothic font. There’s a similar font inked across the sliver of skin peeking out at his wrist, black ink still richly pigmented even though it looks to be more than a few years old. Must not get a lot of sun.

“Open.” You blink, several times, and come to the hazy realization that while your eyes have been busy mapping every groove and plane, tracing the prominent veins on the back of the hand draped over his knee, he’s maneuvered the water bottle to your lips. 

They part at the subtle pressure of the spout, and he tips it forward, pressing plastic between chapped lips that close around it to take a hesitant sip.

“Another,” he demands, and you try not to notice the way his focus settles on your throat, tracking each contraction of delicate muscle as you drink. “Good girl.”

You nearly choke.

And he pays it no mind. Gives no pause to the widening of your eyes, pupils flared to the limbus, or the palpable heat radiating from your skin. He merely sets the bottle back on the counter and folds his arms over the bulk of his chest.

“Just water?” he questions, and you start to nod in answer, but quickly remember your—or rather, his—rules. 

“Just water,” you echo in confirmation, and it’s received with a critical grunt. Like he can see through the paper thin restraints you cling to, the only thing keeping your lips from speaking on behalf of those between your legs.

He shifts back to his tray of inks with a glint in his eye that makes you wonder if maybe you should have said something more. Feigned hunger or fatigue.

“Just this section here–” He taps at the remaining carbon stenciling over your hip. “–and we’ll move on to shading.”

“Okay,” you mumble, and a gloved thumb brushes over raw, freshly tattooed skin. Traces his work in a gesture akin to reverence, sweetened by the lingering sting left in its wake—and you fail to stifle the moan that’s been building in the back of your throat for several hours.

When he repeats the motion and receives an identical response, the mask stretches over his face, pulls taut over the prominent bridge of his nose, and he curls his fingers into your hip. His chest rumbles with muted laughter at the whine that punches out of you, thighs clenching around the pillow wedged between them. 

“Gonna need ya a bit closer,” he croons, and gives you no warning before he hooks his fingers through the elastic pulled taut over your waist, giving it a sharp tug. “C’mon, on your tummy for me…atta girl.” He takes to arranging your limbs how he wants them, left leg practically in his lap to keep the skin from creasing, ass on full display.

You bury your face in the pillow and crook of your own arm, vehemently ignoring the way he grips your backside to work on the remaining outline, and the surge of wanton arousal warming your neck and cheeks.

Present… 

Delicate, looping letters, woven seamlessly into the outline. Hardly noticeable if you aren’t looking for them. 

They glare at you in the mirror, the memory of strong hands a phantom touch against the surrounding tender skin.

S.R.

Simon fucking Riley.

It’s not enough that he’s under your skin, he has to be inked on it too.

“Well, angel, I know you come often, but I didn’t expect to see—”

“—Where’s Simon?” You cut John off, in no mood for his dilatory remarks, and he cants a quizzical brow.

“He’s finishing up a consult right now, is there—”

“—I need to speak with him. Now,” you demand, trembling fingers curling into fists at your side. 

You couldn’t care less what he’s doing presently. You’ll drag him off the studio floor by that stupid spiked bar in his damn brow. He’s going to—

“Hey, hunny bunny!” Kyle appears behind him, walking out of what you assume to be an office with a tablet in hand and his usual sunny disposition. Rhinestones and pointed canines catch in the studio lighting when he smiles and tucks his tablet under his arm, coming to stand beside John. His gaze dips to the healing skin of your thigh. “That the piece Si did?” It’s barely visible below the hemline of your skirt.

“Yeah,” you grit through your teeth, jaw tense with the effort to maintain a modicum of decorum. “It needs touching up in a few places.”

His eyes catch on something behind you, and you’re about to reiterate your demand, but you fall short when an all too familiar weight settles on your nape. 

“‘S all this fussing about?” Simon questions, and you jerk away from his grasp.

Your first mistake.

“You—” you hiss and lift the hem of your skirt, “—need to fix this.”

He tilts his head to study the healing tattoo. “What about it?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about.” You know he does because the smug bastard is smirking beneath his mask, fabric stretched tight over his jaw and eyes narrowed in amusement.

He motions towards the hallway, “Let’s have a look, then,” and doesn’t wait to see if you follow him. Knows that you’re on his heels as he leads you back to the same private room. You don’t sit on the chair, electing to stand beside it instead with your arms folded tight to your chest, and you scowl at where he leans against the counter, posture mirroring yours in a decidedly mocking manner. “What’s got ya all riled up sweetheart?”

Definitely mocking

“This isn’t the design I agreed to,” you huff indignantly.

“Sure it is.”

“No, it isn’t.” You take a step closer, the toes of your sneakers nearly touching his beat up combat boots. “I never fucking agreed to have your name tattooed on me. I’m not some tramp for you to—”

“—‘S not my name,” he corrects, and you don’t know what heats your blood more; the fact that he has the gall to correct you or that he isn’t even trying to deny what he’s done. “Jus’ my initials.”

“Same fucking thing,” you seethe, jabbing an angry finger into his chest.

Your second, and final, mistake.

Calloused fingers curl around your wrist and pull, yanking you further into his space until you’re standing chest to chest. He holds you there by your wrist and the firm grasp he has on your jaw, cheeks pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

“Someone needs a reminder about manners,” he tuts, and you whine against the pressure on your jaw. “A reminder about her rules.” His hand drops from your face to settle on your shoulder and the scathing retort coiled on your tongue withers to ash amid disbelief when he pushes down against your shoulder, forcing you onto the stool beside the chair. “Stay,” he warns when you shift forward, already halfway onto your feet again, and the undercurrent of a growl is warning enough.

“What are the rules I gave you last time?” He leans back against the counter again, arms folded loosely over his chest, and his fingers tap rhythmically against his bicep, staring down at you expectantly. 

You glare up at him, fingers curling into the fabric of your skirt on top of your thighs, and he cocks that stupid pierced brow.

This is ridiculous. 

But if there’s any chance at getting him to erase the brand he’s inked into your skin…

“Give a verbal answer,” you bite out.

“And?”

“Tell you what I need.”

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He stalks forward to press a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to his when you don’t deign to look at him. Amid the infuriating rush of warmth to your core, you briefly consider what would happen if you were to rear back and bite him.

“No,” you admit reluctantly, and he hums low in his chest, clearly pleased with your answer. 

“So tell me what you need.” His thumb sweeps over your chin, traces the contour of your bottom lip, and you press your legs further together. 

All the anger, hot and swirling in your chest, mixes with the smoky whorls of his words until you can't distinguish between the two. Can’t untangle the intrepid need to rebel from the desire to yield in supplication to the enigmatic man towering over you. 

“I- I want…” Your words get tangled up with it, coming out in a stuttering mess. “Fix it.”

“Fix what, sweetheart?” The way he stares into your eyes is nothing short of maddening. Fathomless pools of amber, beckoning you to bathe in their warmth, and like a moth to a flame you go willingly.

“Fix me,” you croak, and he shakes his head. “Please.” 

“Don’t need to fix ya, sweetheart. You’re mine–” He crouches down before you and slides a roughened palm over your knee, up your thigh to the tender skin beneath your skirt. “–Says so, right here.” He traces each letter of his initials inked onto your skin. “And what’s mine is perfect. Just the way it is. Understand?”

No. But you nod anyway.

“Words,” he insists. “Need to hear it.”

“I understand,” you murmur, still sifting through the haze in his eyes.

“Good girl,” he croons, sickeningly sweet, and pets a hand over your hair, thumb tracing the shell of your ear and sending a shiver skittering down your spine. “All soft and sweet for me, told ya we’d get ya there. Just need a little training, hm? Gonna let me train that pretty, empty head, aren’t ya?”

“Yeah,” you respond absently, and his eyes flare with a molten, ravenous desire.

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

[downbadf0rficppl]

happy birthday

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve's deep in a lie. One that he won't be able to recover from. What happens when he finds out you know the truth.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, and fluff of course. Brat Tamer!Steve, Oral (M Receiving),

AN: Based on a headcanon I read at some point where Bucky threatens to reveal when Steve's real birthday is - I don't think I ever laughed harder! Hope you guys all enjoy! LYYYYYYYYY

"Hey, Cap," You called to him, walking over as he filed out of the briefing room. He looked up at you and smiled - lifting his hand up to wave. He looked at you suspiciously - your hands were hidden behind your back, clearly holding something.

"Whatcha got for me?" He smirked, "Hopefully not more files?" He added with a slight groan.

"Not at all. Just a little something," You showed him the box, "for your birthday."

Steve chuckled awkwardly, "Thanks sweetheart, but it's not my birthday for a while yet? It's December 12th?"

You smirked evilly, "Ahh but Captain, I discovered something quite interesting the other day. There was a collection of old SSR files found in an old crate and I had the pleasure of having to catalogue it. Most of it was boring but there was a file that caught my eye," Steve's eyes widened, but you continued, "The file of one 'Steven Grant Rogers'. And it surprised me to discover that the great Captain America is a-"

You were cut off by Steve slamming his hand down over your mouth. He looked around wildly, hoping that no one heard, before dragging you outside.

"Where did you find that file?"

"So it's true! Ha!"

"I'm not messing around, sweetheart. Who else knows?"

"No one. For now."

Steve stalked up to you, finger pointed at your chest, "You best keep your mouth shut, sweetheart."

"Or what, Captain, what are you gonna do?" You looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Fuck around and find out."

"Don't tempt me with a good time, Captain."

"Shut your mouth," He growled, his pupils blown with lust.

"Make me."

You barely made it back to his room before he slotted his lips over yours, hands grasping your face gently. You gasped into his mouth, his nose bumping yours as he pushed you through the door of his apartment.

"Jump," he mumbled against your mouth and you obliged. His hands gripped your thighs as they wrapped around his waist and he nudged the door shut with his toe. All without ever breaking the contact between your lips.

He carried you into the bedroom and dropped you in the center of his bed. He looked down at you like a lion looks at a gazelle, lust-blown eyes raking over your body.

"Just here to stare, Captain? All bark, no bite." It probably wasn't a good idea to provoke the beast, but you were having slightly too much fun watching Captain 'I-never-have-a-hair-out-of-place' Rogers lose his temper.

Steve shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're such a fucking brat," he muttered, a hand dropping to his belt. Your eyes followed his hand, raking over his unfortunately-still-clothed body. "You know what brats like you need? You need to be taught a lesson."

You almost let out a whimper, your cunt pulsing with need. Steve pulled off his shirt and his belt and dropped them on the floor unceremoniously. He climbed over you and crawled over you, his large body pinning you to the mattress.

He laid hands on the top button of your shirt before looking up at you for consent. "Please, Steve."

"See, that wasn't so hard." He began unbuttoning your shirt, laying gentle kisses in his wake. Once it was unbuttoned, he pushed it down your arms and tossed it onto the floor. He unbuttoned your trousers in the same way before pulling them off your legs and tossing them by your shirt.

His eyes raked over your semi-naked form, slowly appreciating every curve and dimple on your body. You smiled shyly - the weight of his gaze was heavy, heavy with adoration.

He flipped you onto your stomach and pulled your hips against his crotch. You could feel the bulge straining in his pants and you let out a moan as it brushed against your sensitive clit.

"Someone's sensitive," Steve said, the smirk evident in his voice.

"Someone's taking a long time to fuck me. Maybe I'll find some other agent to finish the jo-"

Slap. You jolted as Steve laid a hard slap against your ass. Your surprise melted into arousal and you let out another moan. You pushed back against him, letting him know you wanted more.

"You're mine," Steve growled, continuing to slap your ass, alternating between cheeks and pressures, "Mine to tame, mine to fuck. Get it, only mine."

You moaned in response - an enthusiastic yes.

"God, I can smell how wet you are, sweetheart. You like it when I slap you, huh? You like it when I get rough?" You nodded your head, pushing back into Steve again. You hear him chuckle and move away. You whine at the loss of touch, "Cockdrunk already, pretty baby? I haven't even touched you yet."

You heard Steve's zipper and the sound of jeans landing on the floor. You turned to look at him and you looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Impressed, baby?" Even through his boxers, Steve's bulge was impressive. Steve was a well-endowed man and he knew it. "Now come over here and show me how much you want this cock."

You climbed off the bed and sank to the floor in front of him. Your knees hit the solid cold floor and you were now at eye level with his cock. Steve's eyes went wide - clearly, he hadn't been expecting you to do that.

"May I, Captain?" You said, your fingers playing on the waistband of his boxers.

"Fuck yeah, sweetheart." Steve threw his head back as you pushed his boxers down. He was big. Bigger than you’ve had before. Your mouth watered at his size and you leaned forward to give the tip of his cock a little kiss.

Smirking at the way Steve groaned as his cock twitched, you wrapped your hand around his girth and started pumping. Steve threw his head back, his hands finding your hair and making a makeshift ponytail.

Your tongue swiped over the tip of his cock, collecting the pre-cum on your tongue. You took his tip in your mouth, hands still languidly stroking the base of his cock. Your left hand traveled down to play with his balls, gently massaging them. It was music to your ears the way he choked out your name from your actions.

You took him further down your throat, pulling away when you started to gag. You tried again, trying to go further.

"Breathe through your nose sweetheart, that's it," Steve said as you took further down your throat. Your tongue ran over the large vein on the underside of his cock, massaging it as Steve threw his head back in ecstasy. "Fuck, sweetheart. I'm gonna ruin you if you don't slow down."

You smiled, as you pulled away from his cock. "Don’t be afraid to do what you want, Cap." You hummed, "I can handle it."

Steve wrapped your hair around his fist, before guiding your face back down to suck on his cock. He pushed your head all the way down so that your nose was brushing against the trimmed hair at the base of his cock. You gagged around his length and the pressure made Steve let out a loud groan.

"Fuck, just like that, baby, yes," pressure began to build up in his stomach, as you bobbed your head up and down his length, "Keep going baby, don't stop."

Your hand moved back up to his balls, rolling them between your fingers as you kept sucking. The action made his hips stutter, the groan of your name practically coming out as a growl. "I’m not going to last," he choked out, pulling you off his cock and up to standing again.

Your knees felt stiff after so much time on the cold, hardwood floor, that you winced at the sudden movement. Steve caught it.

"Next time, you're using a pillow." You smiled at the thought of a nest time.

He pushed you back on the bed, his mouth latching back onto yours as he kneeled in front of you.

"Can I?" He looked up at you, his beautiful blue eyes shining brightly. His fingers traced the waistline of your underwear, fingers hooking the sides to pull them down,

You frantically nodded yes, and they were gone a second later, your bra following soon after. Steve lifted you up and threw you onto the middle of the bed, his eyes ravenously traveling to your sopping wet cunt. You moaned at the show of strength.

"You like that? Being manhandled like a slut?" You moaned in affirmation.

You gasped at the feeling of Steve's tongue on your pussy. He licked a long, flat stripe up to your clit, flicking it with his tongue. Your hands found their way into his hair and you pulled him up.

"As much as I would love for you to eat me out. I need your cock. In me. Right now."

"Your wish is my command, sweetheart."

You saw him grab a silver foil packet from his nightstand and he ripped it open with his teeth. You watched as Steve rolled the condom down his cock, the cock that was just in your mouth.

"See something you like?" Steve smirked as he caught you staring.

You blushed, "I see a lot that I like," you replied honestly.

Steve's face broke into a huge childish grin and he pulled you closer to him, "Good." That was the only warning he gave you before he hit home, sliding into you gently. He moaned loudly, head tossed back in pleasure as you squeezed him.

You gasped, trying to adjust to his size, "S'big, Stevie. 'S so big hmmm, 'm all - ah - full." you squeaked, a rough growl escaping from his lips at your words.

"Yeah, sweetheart? God, you're so tight. Filling you up to the brim, like a little hole for me to use."

Tears slipped down your face as you tried to adjust to the stretch. He was so big you could feel him everywhere, with every shift of your body, with every breath you took. Steve took your face in his hands, wiping away your tears, "Breathe, sweetheart. Just breathe, yeah?" You nodded, taking a shuddery breath. Steve pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, "You tell me if it gets too much." 

"I need you to move," you whispered. Steve slowly, pulled out and slowly pushed back in. And then again. And then again. Each time he got closer to bottoming out inside of you and you moaned as he pushed further and further.

Eventually, he picked up the pace, falling into a steady rhythm. A steady stream of moans left your lips. He brushed past your G-spot and you swore you saw stars. You were begging for more.

His hips began to snap into you, cock drilling into you so fast that you had fallen silent, mouth stuck in an 'O' shape. The praises falling from Steve's lips were lost on you as the pressure built up in your stomach.

"Steve, 'm not gonna last, Steve, please, 'm gonna cum, 'm gonna - oh my GOD, 'M GONNA CUM, AHHH-" You fell apart all over Steve's cock as he kept up this brutal pace.

Steve followed soon after, cumming with a loud moan of your name before collapsing beside you. You smiled up at him through your post-orgasmic haze, turning to nestle into his arms. He chuckled, laying a light kiss on your forehead, "I have to go take care of this, give me a second."

He laughed as you shook your head, desperately clinging to him tighter. He unraveled himself from you and quickly disappeared into the bathroom to dispose of the used condom.

Your eyes drifted shut as you waited for him, only to be forced open by something cool touching your inner thigh. You snapped your legs shut, only to find that Steve was holding a wet towel. "Just cleaning you up, sweetheart."

As soon as he was done, Steve pulled one of his t-shirts over your body and bundled you into his arms. At your disapproving grunt, he chuckled.

"Need to put some food in my best girl." He said, placing another kiss on your forehead.

"And then snuggles?" You asked, hopefully.

Steve smiled, "Yeah, sweetheart, then snuggles." He put you down on the cold island in the middle of the kitchen of his apartment and turned around to grab some fruit from the fridge.

The doorbell rang. Steve looked at the door and then the clock on the wall. He clearly wasn't expecting anyone. Both of you stood unmoving - you didn't know exactly what the nature of your relationship was. If it was someone you worked with - which of course it would be - you didn't want to be forced to go public.

Whoever it was was insistent. They banged on the door. "Hey, Punk, open the door." Steve let out a sigh of relief - it was Bucky, his best childhood friend. And also one of the best secret keepers in the compound.

Steve opened the door as you reached over to grab a strawberry. "What do you want, Jerk?" The door opened to Bucky mischievously smiling at Steve. Clearly, the fact that Steve was half-naked didn't bother him.

"Did you forget what today is?"

Steve's face blanched again.

"Happy Birthday, Punk!" Steve tackled a smirking Bucky to the ground. The sight made you burst into laughter, a strawberry held up to your mouth.

The sound made Steve look over at you. The sight of you sitting on his counter in his t-shirt, eating his strawberries made his heart jump. If this was how he got to spend the rest of his birthdays, he'd be a happy man indeed. Even if he had to put up with all your teasing.

fin.

buy me a coffee

[beenbaanbuun]

wearing his hoodie w/jongho

words - an amount

genre - smut…

warnings - fingering, degradation (slut), nicknames (baby, honey, good girl), manhandling because of course, cutie patootie jongho, dom!jongho

jongho likes to pretend he doesn’t like it when you wear his clothes

like, you’ll be walking around in one of his hoodies and he’ll just sit and watch you with a disinterested look

or what he assumes is a disinterested look, anyway

everyone bar him can see the cute little smirk that he’s trying so desperately, and yet failing so miserably, to hide

sometimes you’ll ask him what’s wrong and he’ll just respond with ‘that’s my hoodie’ as if trying to insinuate that you shouldn’t be wearing it

but when you suggest (threaten) that you take it off, he just insists that you keep it on

“you’re already wearing it now, baby,” he tries to keep his voice level, but you can hear the panic behind it, “may as well just keep it on, right?”

sometimes you leave it on, but sometimes you don’t

you just like to see the disappointed pout he wears once he realises you’re not wearing it anymore

but if he struggles to hide his true feelings when you’re fully dressed, imagine wearing his hoodie with nothing but a pair of panties

this man will not be able to take his eyes off of you

there’s a cushion that has taken permanent residence over his crotch and when you ask about it he just says he wants to hold something

“well, why don’t you hold onto me instead?” you tease, keeping an innocent lilt to your voice, “i’m sure i’m nicer to squeeze than a measly bit of fabric.”

his already glazed over eyes go wide and he shakes his head

“no! i’m, uh… mad at you,” he stutters out

you take a few steps closer

“mad at me?” you grab the bottom of the hoodie and begin to play with the fabric, completely ‘innocently’

it’s your your fault if the material lifts up a few times to reveal the purple lace

it’s also not your fault that it’s jongho’s favourite pair you’re wearing - the one that matches his mic

jongho does a few slow blinks as he tries to keep his gaze on your face and not on your soft thighs that you keep exposing more of every time your hands pull as the hem

“you’re wearing my hoodie again,” his voice is suddenly more breathy than it was moments before

you can’t help but wonder how close he is to snapping and ripping the hoodie off you himself

not because he doesn’t like when you wear it - you both know it’s a lie when he says that - but because he’s desperate to get to what’s underneath

“it’s comfy,” you shrug, “and i didn’t want to wear trousers.”

his eyes trail down your body at the mention of your bare legs and they finally settle on what he’d been trying to hard to avoid

“i can see that, baby,” he grunts, rubbing over his face with his hands, “any reason?”

you shrug, trying to think of an excuse

it only takes seconds for you to realise that the truth would be better

“you were too focussed on work,” you get even closer as you speak, until finally you’re stood in between his open thighs, “i thought if i misbehaved you’d pay attention to me.”

he groans, tipping his head back as his final piece of resolve floats away

“what, so you thought if you come down here, half fucking naked with nothing on but my hoodie and your panties, i’d fuck you?”

well, yes… of course you did

still, you didn’t dignify his obvious question with an answer

“how do you know i have nothing on under here?” you pull at the bottom of the hoodie once more

then suddenly there’s hands on your hips and you don’t have time to think before you’re being pulled onto your boyfriend’s lap

the cushion is gone, now - he must have pushed it away just moments before he grabbed you - and you can feel his hard-on sitting pretty against your clit

if it weren’t for the iron-like grip he still had on your hips, you’d push your luck and grind down on it

“because i can see your fucking nipples, baby,” he grows into your ear, gently nipping on the lobe before pulling away, “poking through my hoodie and teasing me, hm? i bet that was all part of the plan, wasn’t it…”

you wriggle a little in his grasp, wanting to get some friction against your core, but he grips you harder and his fingers dig into your hips

“stop moving,” he glares at you, “i’m not finished talking, and i can’t focus when my little slut is busy rubbing her wet fucking pussy all over my dick.”

by the tone in his voice, you know there’s no room for argument

you sit still for him, trying to ignore the ever-growing ache that sits at the bottom of your stomach

“good girl,” he says, although he doesn’t quite sound like he believes it, “now, you’re going to sit there and take what i fucking give you, hm?”

you nod desperately

he chuckles as he reaches down and slips a finger inside of the soft lace, making you gasp

“but don’t even think about cumming until i say so, sweetheart,” he begins to rub circles against your clit, every stroke growing in speed as he works you towards an orgasm, “baby needs to learn her place, doesn’t she.”

you nod desperately, whimpering away as he works his expert fingers against you

you grow closer by the second as after just a minute or so, you can feel that familiar knot at the bottom of your stomach

you hold your breath, ready to explode and then…

nothing

he pulls his fingers away right at the last second, bringing them up to his mouth to suck the juices off with a smirk

he keeps eye contact with you as his tongue darts out from between his plush lips to lap at his fingers

you whine

“oh hush,” he mumbles in between licks, “you brought this on yourself, honey. now be a good slut and suffer the consequences.”

[solbaby7]

This Will Do

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: jealous!az, toxic relationships, swearing, sexual themes, descriptions of physical violence and abuse, idkkk it just sucks wanting what you know you shouldn’t have :(((

previous parts [ one ] [ two ]

—

Coming here was by far your worst idea yet.

Maybe, it wasn’t even a conscious decision since it seemed like your feet were moving without being told, pushing you to a destination that your brain hadn’t been made privy to. Not until your heart was thrashing in your chest and blood was pumping so fiercely through your veins that you could hear it in your ears.

You don’t even register where you are until you’re knocking on the door, swallowing thickly when it’s ripped open not even seconds later. “Azriel,” You breathe out in relief, too frazzled to properly appreciate the half-naked body before you.

The smell hits him before his eyes even catch that you’re absolutely covered in blood, hands stained and leathers soaked through. It’s instinctual the way he snatches you to him, past the front door and into the sitting room of his personal residence. A fires going, crackling softly to the left a few feet away from a Illyrian sized sofa. Still steaming tea siting on the table before that, its wood a shade so deep you wondered if it were made from the night sky itself. “What the fuck happened? Are you hurt?” His hands sift over you, shoving aside ruined fabric until he’s examined every inch of bare skin thoroughly.

“Not really, I just—“ Your eyes slide shut when you feel him go still. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Whose blood is this?”

You say absolutely nothing. Fingers fiddling in your lap, nails biting into skin and now that the adrenaline had subsided, every second seemed to lag—the weight heavy on your shoulders.

“Stay here,” Azriel mutters into your hair before disappearing down the hall. He’s gone no less than a few minutes, returning with an outstretched hand damp from steaming bathwater. “Let’s just get you cleaned up first.”

You're too numb to fight it—to fight him when in truth, his touch was the only thing keeping you sane.

Golden eyes barely hide the extent of his worry as each layer of clothing is peeled off of you and tossed aside, every move is cautious as if you were a stray animal that would scamper off at the slightest inkling of danger. Warm water draws out the anxiety, eyes fluttering closed when Azriel ran his fingers through your hair, working up a lather with shampoo that smelled like him. “We got in a fight,” You finally confess when you feel him tense near your cheek, a finger grazing over slightly raised skin. “Damien and I.”

“About?”

“About you.”

Intrigue forces his eyes to dart down to you in surprise, not bothering to look away when he notices that yours are closed. A brief pause, a silent evaluation of the newly cleaned skin and anger laces every single word when Az catches the imprint of a hand against your cheek. The bruise of fingers around your neck and arms. “Tell me what happened.”

Your jaw clenches, face shying away the longer he stared at the marks. “I was still a little heated after leaving the sparring ring so I just went back home. Damien—he wasn’t supposed to be back so early and I got an attitude because he kept asking so many questions. Kept demanding to know whose scent was all over me.” His hands move slow, memorizing every word, every bruise, every flinch and shake of your voice. Soap suds dance along your skin, washing away blood, sweat and tears until nothing was left but you and Az. “I walked past to go to the room and he yanked me back,” The ache of your scalp throbs at the reminder of Damien’s hand curling around the length of your ponytail.

Fingers graze against the blues and purples dotting at your back. “He threw you into the wall?”

Water trickles as you adjust, the warmth soothing stiff muscles and you can feel the grit of bath salts barely resolved against your feet. You nod once, refusing to elaborate further when Azriel’s shadows begin to stalk up the length of the walls, clawing their way up his spine and over his shoulders to report further damage. “He thought I was cheating on him—said I was using training as a ruse to cover up the fact that I was really just the spymasters whore.” Years of training and dedication; growth and back breaking labor reduced to nothing more than a piece of ass. Your fingers clench into fists subconsciously, the feeling too fresh; the rage too raw and willing to return at the very reminder. The brief moment where Damien’s words made you falter—made you question and forget yourself. Disgust coils in your belly at the fear that formed when his palm connected with your cheek. “I’d never seen him so upset,” You confess, allowing Azriel’s comforting touch even if you knew deep down you shouldn’t be here. “He didn’t even look like himself anymore; he just kept shoving me into the wall over and over and over. Kept promising that if I was so interested in—“ You choke over your words, teeth gritting and eyes filling with tears. “That if I was so interested in mangled flesh then I should have some for myself to match.”

Azriel’s hands freeze at your shoulders, the sopping wash rag dripping warm water down your spine. “Did you kill him?”

You swallow audibly, glancing at the pink tinge in the tub. “I’m not sure. I hurt him pretty badly though—bad enough that he’ll have no choice to explain what he did to deserve such an injury.”

He’s rising to his full height before you can even finish speaking, drying off his hands and opening the large closet doors connected to his bathing chambers. Your eyes follow his every move, tongue tracing your bottom lip when he begins to attach holsters with freshly sharped knives sliding into place. “Where was the last place you saw him? Your apartment?”

Azriel barely reacts when you climb out of the tub; movements almost mechanical until a hand rests delicately on his shoulder. “Please don’t go,” He doesn’t want to listen, that much is obvious by the array of lines that tug their way across his handsome face but there’s no denying his body’s reaction to the plea. Shifting closer, yearning for more as he basked in the first gentle touch you’d initiated since that night. “Just stay here with me.”

Just choose me.

Just one time, please stay with me.

The tension in his muscles slowly fades the longer golden irises stare into your own, falling victim to the warmth residing there—reserved just for him. It’s instinct to pull you closer, the bare shape of you melting into his own as if it were made for him. “You don’t want this,” Every syllable burns like acid on his tongue. Still, he doesn’t step away; refusing to let you go when he’d waited too long to have you this close again—even if it was just for tonight.

“You’ve never cared what I wanted before.” Brutal and yet still the words are dripped in honey. Azriel’s grip tightens on your waist as you ease the holders from their place. “All of that changes because some asshole roughed me up?”

“He hurt you,” He states sharply, knuckles ghosting over the bruises on your arms. “No one gets to hurt what’s mine and live.”

“Except you, of course. Right?” Your eyes roll on their own accord, lips twisting into a sneer as you pull away from him; suddenly too bare and entirely too exposed. “My mother always did say the handsome ones were the most selfish.” You make a point to avoid the plethora of fresh towels provided on the counter and snatch for Azriel’s hanging on the rack instead. “I’d hoped she was wrong.”

“Well, she wasn’t,” Azriel doesn’t allow the thick towel to cover even an inch of you, ripping it free and caging you to the wall behind you. This time, when your heart races in your chest—it’s not with fear. “I am a selfish male but only with a select few things.” He’s everywhere at once, assaulting ever sense and smothering you with a panty-dropping amount of affection. His nose teases against your own, eyes sliding over the planes of your face until they catch at your mouth. “And with you,” Azriel whispers your name, thumb sliding over the plush of your bottom lip. “—with you and I am the most selfish of all. You deserve better.”

Your hands slide up his arms and over his shoulders before hooking over his neck, nails scratching at the dark hair within reach. “Then, give me better. Just for tonight.”

Azriel contemplates for half a second before shaking away logic. If this was going to be the last time then he would savor every moment; would devour every moan and whimper. He’d survive off your touch and thrive off your love; memorizing the bite of your nails on his back and your teeth claiming at the skin of his shoulder.

It feels all too familiar, entirely too natural, devastatingly comfortable when the shadowsinger cups the back of your thighs and bares the brunt of your weight with little effort. He denies any distance, a large palm splayed along the middle of your back to press every inch of bare skin against his own. His kiss is unusually soft and you can’t fight your body’s need to lean into it; to indulge in the girlish fantasy you’d crafted of the life you could’ve lived. The one where you were Azriel’s first choice, foolishly in love and desperate for a moment alone to make out or franticly fuck in shadow cloaked corners like the world was ending.

“I missed this,” The rasp in his words sends goosebumps along your skin and your bare cunt clenched around nothing when he trails kisses down the length of your neck. “I miss you.”

“I hate you,” It’s a lie, one he doesn’t call you out on but you needed to say the words before your heart took the reins and forced three entirely different words out. Bare thighs constrict like a snake at his waist, urging him closer until you could feel the hard press of his cock through his sweatpants.

A groan pulls from his chest, mouth slotting over your own as his hands explored freely. Memorizing every dip and feminine curve until the reward of such thorough examination seeped through the fabric of his sweats. “You may hate me but you want me more.” It’s filthy; the sound of your arousal hitting your ears as you grind down harder, chasing a high that cleared away the fog of life and cloaked you in pleasure. “I know you do. I can feel it every time we touch.”

You refuse to respond, digging your heels into his waistband to shove the offending material away until the warm weight of his cock springs between you. “I want this,” Azriel’s eyes follow your every move, breathing growing heavy when you lick the palm of your hand and reach down to hold him in your grasp. A whine drags from your throat when you coat him in your slick, brows pinched and mouth parted as you allow the tip of him to prod at your entrance. “Give it to me, Az.”

“It’s yours. Take it.”

Your free hand curls behind his neck, pulling him into a kiss that forces him into silence. It’s cruel; the clashing of teeth and tongue, lips swollen as Azriel’s fingers tangle themselves in your hair. He takes a step closer, intent to keep you secure against the wall but all it does is give you exactly as you’d wanted—the delicious stretch of his cock filling you up.

Your name is like a swear on his tongue, spilling free harshly as he adjusts to the feel of you, the slippery wetness of your arousal dripping down his shaft but he doesn’t move. “Please, Az?”

“Say it.”

I love you.

“I hate you.” Patience wears thin and your hips rock to satiate the need burning low in your gut. “Hate how fucking good you feel.” You rip a page from Azriel’s book and you take. Taking more than you ever allowed yourself before. He buckles into your demands, guiding your motions and watching where he begins and you end until he doesn’t care to difrenciate it anymore. You squirm under the scrutiny, a faint blush fanning across the apples of your cheeks and tips of your ears. You have to shake your head a little to slap yourself out of the stupor; nearly sinking into the love he was finally giving. “Hate me back,” You grip harder at his shoulders, chasing your release but Azriel wasn’t fucking you like he used to. “Give me what I want, Az.”

He’d replaced his rough touch and venomous bite. Instead, Az kissed every bruise, whispering sweet promises down the curve of your spine, knuckles grazing at your cheekbone as if you were the most precious flower with delicate petals. Azriel gives. Returning all the care and devotion with deliberate touches as soft praises are crooned in your ear. “I will if you say it. Just once—for me.”

Your vision goes blurry, eyes squeezing shut as your head falls back against the wall in defeat. “I want you.”

The friction you’d been itching for is finally granted and you’re too caught up up in the feel of him fucking into you to give a second thought towards your confession—not when he was finally giving you what you’d been craving. He fulfills every desire. Every want. Every need until you’re a mess of limbs and drawn out moans. You allow the marks he sucks into your neck, covering the ones done in anger. He doesn’t stop; not until your legs are shaking and your lungs were fighting for a full breath.

His forehead rests against yours, arms caging your head as he whispers ever so softly. “Please don’t go. I love you.” It takes everything to pull away. To grab your messy clothes and shove them on as quickly as possible. “I’m so sorry.”

Your hand is already on the doorknob, head bowed and heart screaming for you to stay. “I don’t forgive you.”

[foreingersgod]

what if like you did a CC x reader fic with Good luck, babe! And like reader is like Caitlins gay awakening and stuff…

Good Luck, Babe! . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: Good luck, babe! by Chappell roan

A/N: i’m aware that in a good chunk of my cc fics that it starts with reader and cait “just hooking up” or something like that, so i swear this will be the last time i do that 😭😭

It's fine, it's cool

You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth

the sun peaked through your linen curtains, making your eyes flutter open. you glanced over at your phone, 8:30, and over to the left side of your bed where she laid. she was sleeping peacefully, sheets pulled up to her collarbone, hair spewed in different directions against one of your pillows. she looked so beautiful like this. having her naked, in your bed, was truly a blessed sight to see so you cherished it whenever you could.

as she snored softly, still deep in a dream, you turned over on your side to look at her properly. you let your fingers run across the prominence of her collarbone, toying with the hem of your sheets that hid the rest of her gorgeous body. you watched as her lips parted with each breathe, how her nose twitched, and how her faint freckles danced across her cheeks. she was a sight for sore eyes.

not much later, her eyes fluttered just like yours had moments ago, yawning as she stretched for the first time this morning. she looked over, noticing you had been staring for who knows how long.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer” she laughed, leaning over and kissing your forehead before shuffling out of bed and starting to get dressed.

“no picture could beat the real thing” you grinned back. she looked over, smiling back at you, grabbing her keys.

“hey i gotta go, connor’s got this weird brunch thing that he needs me for, but um” she made her way to the door “i’ll text you”

“wait!” you stopped her before she could leave. she let you of the handle to your bedroom and turned to face you, giving you full attention. suddenly you felt vulnerable, still naked and barely covered by your sheets, laid right in front of her “would you want to grab dinner sometime this week? i know we meet up on fridays, but…i don’t know i thought it’d be nice to see you sooner”

“um…yea…you know i’ll have to text you or something” she shuffled around, avoiding eye contact. “it’s just that me and connor…he’s still my boyfriend…”

you fought the urge to roll your eyes “yea, yea i know”

“well i can’t just go out with you all the time like we’re girlfriends. me and connor are still together”

“even if you’re in my bed every weekend?” you scoffed “whatever, caitlin, i get it”

she just stared at you, not wanting to pick a fight. instead she opted for a sigh and left your apartment, leaving you alone and wanting.

you wished she didn’t have to pretend. you wished the two of you ended up differently.

And guess I'm the fool

With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof

you shouldn’t have let yourself get this attached to someone you knew you’d never be able to have. you intentionally put yourself in situations with caitlin, hoping that, in some magical fantasy in your head, she’d fall for you. but you knew her. you knew about connor and you knew that being ‘gay’ was no where near something she was willing to accept, wether you were in the picture or not.

you found yourself constantly thinking back on all the times you’d realized that you were in love other her.

when she fell asleep on your shoulder during a movie night with your mutual friends.

when you and caitlin decided to road trip to tennessee to visit a close friend who was graduating. you let her have the aux and watched as she hung out the window. sunset illuminating her face, wind rushing through her long hair, singing the lyrics completely wrong but she didn’t care. she was the sun itself, in your eyes.

when she came to your crying for the first time, sobbing about something connor had done. how she so angry at him and needed a friend to spend the night with.

when she came over a second time, completely distraught again. something about how she didn’t feel right, that her head was messing with her. she was having thoughts. thoughts about you, about women, and that she was having a crisis about her sexuality.

when she came over a third and fourth and however many amount of times, when she opened up about those thoughts with you. asking you if you would help her. asked if you would take her to bed, to relive some of her thoughts. make her feel good, worship her like connor could never do.

but your crush never went past that. taking her to bed and waking up with her already gone most mornings, shooting you a ‘thank you’ text and saying she’d see you next friday.

I don't wanna call it off

But you don't wanna call it love

You only wanna be the one that I call baby

“caitlin, can i talk to you for a second” you asked, moving her hands away from the waistband of your shorts.

“yea, baby” she said, calling you that like she didn’t know it destroyed you on the inside to hear it “what’s up?”

you bit your lip, nervous to pester her with this again, but you don’t think you can handle it much longer. this secret sleeping around situation was taking a toll on you and you don’t want to be waiting around for someone that will never come.

“i love the time i get with you so so much” you began “but i don’t think i can keep doing this”

“i’m sorry, what?”

“i just don’t feel like being something you keep on the side. or like being a secret for that matter. i’ve had feelings for you for a very long time and it’s very clear that you don’t feel the same, so i think we need to call this off if that’s the case.”

“oh my- are you serious?” she furrowed her eyebrows, voice raising “i don’t get the privilege to just come out and tell everyone i like girls, YN. and regardless, like i’ve told you countless times, me and connor are still together”

“but why, caitlin?” you matched her tone “do you even love the guy? cause last time i checked, you don’t even spend time with him anymore. why? cause you’re always here with me playing fucking house! i don’t care if you don’t want to come publicly out, but…but i don’t think it’s fair that you treat me as some play thing for when you want to play pretend!”

she tugged at her hair in annoyance “jesus fucking christ, YN. whatever this is between me and you…it’s not love, alright? i thought you wanted this?! you’ve been more than willing to fuck me every time. so i’m not really understanding why you’re so upset!”

you felt sick, like you were genuinely going to puke. she was a mess and you’re not going to be her experiment for when she’s having trouble with her sexuality.

“just fucking leave, clark” you shook your head “i’m not doing this with you anymore. come back when you’re ready to figure yourself out.”

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars

Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling

after that night, caitlin was a disaster. she was choosing to ignore what you said; about being in love, about connor, about everything. just because you fucked on the side didn’t mean she was gay…right?

she hadn’t been herself at all. she was screwing up at practices, forgetting about events and team dinners she needed to attend. she was starting to fall behind in classes, every part of her life was crumbling.

even when she laid in bed, inched over to the very edge of the mattress, connor snoring obnoxiously loud from the other end, she couldn’t stop thinking about the last time she saw you. things were never right with connor, she had always known that subconsciously, but it was becoming very clear how loveless this relationship truly was. but she brushed it off, tricking her mind into thinking that this was how things were meant to be.

she had been with men all her life, taught that this was what girls were supposed to do. so to imagine a life in which she ended up with you was just some silly dream that was meant to stay only as an unattainable desire.

for the nights that she couldn’t sleep, she would spend in the gym practicing, trying to shake off the truth that gnawed at the back of her head endlessly. this was good, she thought, basketball always made her feel better. it was her safe place. here she could leave her worries at the door and find comfort in the game, not even thinking about you.

but no matter how many shots she took, how many baskets she made, no matter how many drills she ran to make herself forget, she found herself coming back to the thought of you.

You can say it's just the way you are

Make a new excuse, another stupid reason

after about a month without you, caitlin had started to realize how much she was fucking up.

“caitlin, are you good?” kate had approached her after practice one day “you’ve been way off. and no offense, but your shots have been awful. what’s going on?”

“nothing” she plastered a fake grin on her face “nothing really, just been having a rough patch with connor, but we’re chill. just gotta lock in” she tried to joke.

kate laughed along, but she knew caitlin too well. there was definitely something up with her. but again, knowing caitlin, she needed to let her deal with it on her own.

caitlin had numerous people approach her about this. about her behavior and how she seemed to be struggling recently. but she brushed it off every single time, probably giving a dozen different excuses as to why she was acting in such a manner. she hoped that she would eventually believe them herself.

Good luck, babe!

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

you truly hoped that she was doing ok. you hadn’t heard from her in quite some time, not bothering to reach out to her in fear that you’d poke the bear and make it worse. all you wanted was for her to realize what she truly felt. wether it be in love with you or that she had never loved connor at all the begin with, it didn’t matter, you just wanted her to finally see how beautiful life was when someone found their true self.

you had been in her position before: unforgiving parents, no one to trust, you’d even had the remorseless religion to add on to all of the reasons why you felt like you couldn’t be yourself. and you knew what i took to get to where you are now.

caitlin believed that most things could be fixed by either ignoring it, or fixing it right away and never looking back. but this wouldn’t be the case now, you already knew, she would have to come to terms with it eventually.

And when you wake up next to him in the middle of the night

With your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife

caitlin shot up out of bed, gasping for air, clawing at the sheets that seemed to be glued to her skin. another nightmare, she’d been having those recently. she looked over, squinting her eyes in the dark, making sure connor was still asleep. letting a sigh of relief go when she realized he was out cold.

her hands found their way to her hair, hands scratching at her scalp, elbows balanced on her knees. she was losing her god damn mind. she couldn’t stand him, she no longer held love for connor (not there was any in the beginning). with each passing day that she had spent with him, she found that her heart beat more and more for you each time.

And when you think about me, all of those years ago

You're standing face to face with "I told you so"

the idea of loving you was tormenting her every single day for the last few months. you were the reason she woke up every morning, the reason she worked so hard to win each game, and the reason she woke up the next morning and dumped connor. she was finally able to see clearly now, finally able to understand that she was madly fucking in love with you.

she realized that no matter how many times she fought the feeling or no matter how many times she tried to convince herself otherwise, that you were the one thing she breathed and lived for.

You know I hate to say it, I told you so

she didn’t even know what she was doing or what she was going to say, but she found herself making her way out of her apartment and into her car. she had to see you and tell you how wrong she was this whole time. that she was so in love with you that her body shook with it.

her heart pounded as she turned onto your street, immediately singling out your building and noticing your apartment lights were still on. her whole body must’ve been shaking with the way that she could barely put the car in park and unbuckle her seat belt. but she managed to make it up every flight of stairs and to your door where the shiny gold ‘103’ sat, practically antagonizing her.

her mind was on autopilot, not even realizing she had already knocked three times until she heard your footsteps approach the door. and suddenly there you were in all your glory, as beautiful as ever.

you were dressed in your comfy clothes, fuzzy cow slippers on your feet, hair messed up, and your necklace backwards. but she thought you were the most gorgeous woman she had ever seen.

“caitlin?” you rubbed your eyes in astonishment “what-um-what are you doing here?”

“hi” she breathed “i know it’s late, im sorry, really. but i just need to see you”

“caitlin i don’t want to do this again. it’s been months and you show up at more door suddenly at what? 12:40 in the morning? i thought i told you i was done with the whole charade.” you stated firmly, about to shut the door on her, but she wedged her foot between the space of the door before you could close it.

“no, no. it’s not…it’s not like that. i meant that i need to come clean to you”

still skeptical, you let her in, watching as she politely hung up her jacket. you ushered her to the couch, grabbing her a glass of water and preparing yourself for whatever she was about to confess.

“when you ended things with me,” she broke the silence “i thought i’d eventually get over it because i didn’t think what we had was all that serious. i was scared to admit that i didn’t love connor…and most importantly that…that i like girls.”

you looked at her solemnly, you knew how hard this was for her.

“and i guess is till don’t know exactly what i am, but…but what i do know is that i took you for granted and i treated you unfairly. you didn’t deserve any of it and for that i apologize”

“hey it’s…it’s ok now. yea i was upset with how things were going, but i’m proud of you now that you’ve recognized what you’ve done and you’re working on yourself.” you tried to reassure her.

“i really am trying” she stated “because i want to. for you.”

you watched as her eyes twinkled under the glow of your lamp, tears rimming her lash line. you noticed the way her nose twitched like how it did that one morning she woke up in your bed. and how she looked just as flawless as she did when you had met her.

“YN, im in love with you.” she blurted “i know i have no right to come here and say that. especially after i completely disregarded your feelings for me. i don’t expect you to take me back and try and love me again, but i just need to you to know that i have spent every day regretting what i’ve done”

there was another heavy silence again, filling the room instantly, encapsulating that words that rolled off of her tongue. you were honestly at a lost for words. of course you were still in love her, you never stopped, but now things were real. you were watching your deepest dreams unravel to you right in front of your eyes.

“You know…I hate to say it but” you said, watching as caitlin braced herself for what she assumed was rejection “…I told you so” you couldn’t hold back your grin, immediately falling into playful laughter as you scooted closer to her on the couch.

“i’m in love with you too” you finally admitted out loud for the first time in months.

her shoulders finally relaxed, exhaling after holding her breathe waiting for your response. she laughed with you, just glad to here you say those words.

“don’t scare me like that” she said, face inching slowing towards you “i don’t think i would’ve been able to handle the rejection”

“don’t worry, i don’t think i ever could’ve stopped loving you if i tried” you whispered, finally closing the gap between you. you’d kissed her many times before, but this would be the first kiss that actually mattered. “but i really did tell you so” 

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/N: yayyy!! happy ending!! <3