#but i don’t think you’re gonna get possessed
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cameronsprincess · 2 days ago
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thinking about… rafe putting a remote control vibrator in your pussy then forcing you to go shopping with him.
CW: 18+ only! use of a vibe in public, rafe is cocky, strong language, some making out in a dressing room.
note: i wrote this at 11:40pm, so don’t judge if it sucks just randomly thought of this lil concept and yeah, this came to be!
daydreams
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“c’mon baby, it’ll be fun…”
those were the words rafe used to convince you to let him shove a small silicone vibrator up your pussy before the two of you went out to shop for the day.
at first you’d thought, ‘sure why not, it couldn’t be too bad.’
but now you’re eating your words as you try and keep your composure in front of the saleswoman who’s going through an abundance of dresses with you.
“i think this one matches your skin complexion, the color would just pop against your skin! it’s also got this sexy little slit the runs up mid-thigh—”
her words are cut short when you gasp loudly, squeezing your thighs together as you grip the dress rack.
the woman gives you a concerned look, asking if you’re okay. you nod your head before you slowly drag your gaze up from the floor, finding rafe sitting on a small couch pushed against a wall, his tongue pressed firmly against his cheek as he smirks back at you, clearly amused by the entire situation.
“i— oh, god.. i agree with you c-completely.” you stutter out, legs wobbling as another orgasm washes through you. your skin is on fire, a flush creeping up your chest and to your face. “i’ll go try this one on, thank you!”
you quickly grab the dress, stumbling toward the dressing room and leaving the poor saleswoman to stand confused by the rack of dresses.
once inside the safety of the dressing room, you drop onto the bench, pulling your skirt up to the tops of your thighs, sliding your thong to the side and going to remove the damned toy rafe put there.
you’re just about to pull it out when the vibration frequency is upped, a knock on your dressing room door making you jump. you know it’s rafe, the fucker probably wants to come in and tease you, probably tell you you’re not allowed to remove the toy, well fuck him.
you stand off the bench, letting your skirt fall back down before unlocking the door and swinging it open, finding a very amused rafe standing on the other side. he pushes you back into the room, stepping into the small space, shutting and locking the door before his tall frame towers you, backing you up against the mirror.
“and just what do you think you’re doing, huh?” he asks, his voice low and demanding, sending a shiver down your spine.
you shove at his chest, “i’m taking this stupid thing out. i’ve not been able to concentrate in one fucking store, rafe. not one! you’re.. god you’re so infuriating sometimes.”
rafe laughs, the sound deep and rich, sending butterflies erupting in your stomach. he reaches into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his phone and stopping the vibrator. you sigh in relief at the loss of stimulation.
he grips the back of your neck, turning your head up so you’re forced to look him in the eyes. his head dips down, nose brushing against yours as he kisses the corners of your lips.
“you’re not taking it out, sweetheart. you’re gonna be a good girl, and keep that shit in the entire time we’re out,” he pauses, turning your head to the side so your neck is exposed to him. he leaves gentle, wet kisses along the side of your neck, his teeth nipping the front of your throat before he pulls back. “if you’re good, you’ll be rewarded for it when we get home, i promise.”
you’re panting, desperate to get this toy out of you but also desperate to be good for rafe, to be rewarded for listening and doing as you’re told. your lips part, a small squeal escaping you when rafe tightens his hold on the back of your neck, craning your head back and pressing his lips firmly against yours. his kiss is hard and possessive, hot and needy.
his tongue slips past the seam of your lips, tangling with yours as he presses the front of his body firmly against yours. you grip his hips, pressing him harder into you and moaning against his lips when you feel the outline of his hard cock pressing against your stomach. rafe deepens the kiss, one hand still firmly gripping the nape of your neck while the other makes purchase on your hip, squeezing tightly as he rubs himself against you.
small whimpers and whines escape you, rafe swallowing every single one of them as he continues to claim your mouth— licking, sucking, biting, claiming you.
he finally breaks away from you, breathing as heavily as you while his forehead rests against yours. his blue eyes search your face, a small smile tilting the corners of his lips before he leans in to press one more soft and gentle kiss to your lips.
finally releasing you, he steps back, adjusts himself then looks at the dress you have hanging on the hook in the dressing room. “i love that one, lets go pay for it and move on to the next store, i’m ready to get you home now.”
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tagging some mooties: @quinnsbabygirl @yourlocalangeldoll @nemesyaaa @rafesheaven @rafesthroatbaby @maybejj @memoirofasparklemuff1n @rafesbabygirlx @rafescvntyclubgf @hauntedfawnn @dementedkittenribbon
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angelfic · 1 day ago
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never let me go.
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PART TWO ➺ series masterlist
[jason todd x reader]
summary — you’ve returned to gotham after a few years away, having left as soon as you could to escape the constant reminders of your deceased best friend, jason todd. you expected to be haunted by the ghost of him the minute you stepped foot in the city, but certainly not like this — the city you call home has much more in store than you could have imagined. warnings — childhood best friends to lovers, mentions of death + mourning, angst, mentions of blood + violence a/n; this is going to be very slow burn (if i can help it) btw. thank you for all the love so far + lmk your thoughts <3
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The drive up to Wayne Manor always feels like entering another world. The chaos of Gotham fades behind you, replaced by the quiet, eerie stillness of Bristol that might be relaxing for most people. You always find yourself unsettled when you make the drive alone, your ears ringing with the silence and lack of Gotham’s noise pollution that you need to be calm.
You’re starting to think there may be something wrong with you, especially considering how you used to yearn for nothing more than to leave the place. But, like you do with most things, you push this to the back of your mind to psychoanalyse another day. Far, far away in the future hopefully.
The road winds through thick forest, the canopy of gnarled trees overhead casting ominous shadows in front of you. Now it feels more like home, you think to yourself.
Your mom’s car is sturdy enough, but getting old and the wear and tear from over the years has you slowing down as the cracked pavement gets bumpier. It’s an old road, rarely used outside of visits to Wayne Manor, and Bruce has other, faster ways of making his own trips. You’re suddenly glad for the caution you have while driving that you definitely didn’t possess when you were younger as a fox runs out onto the street and you brake suddenly. You jolt forward slightly, one hand gripping the wheel and the other reaching next to you to prevent your bag from falling off the seat, contents threatening to spill out.
The fox glances over at you for a split second before scampering off and you nearly laugh to yourself, the deja vu hitting you like a truck.
“Come on, just keep going. Faster, come on—”
“Jason, shut up!” you shout, palms getting sweaty on the steering wheel where his own cover yours in an attempt to help you steer. “If you don’t can it, I swear to God, I’ll—”
“You’ll what? You gonna turn this thing around, sweetheart?” he asks, raising a brow. “Oh, wait, you can’t— because you don’t know how to reverse.”
If you weren’t so focused on the road ahead, you’d probably hit him for being so cocky. You knew this was a bad idea from the start. When your mom had come home from the night shift and tossed her keys on the counter before going to bed and immediately knocking out, Jason had shot you that look. It screamed trouble.
Fast forward to now, where you’re sorely regretting your short-lived burst of spontaneity and trying to control your feet which are hovering awkwardly between the gas and the brake.
Jason is slouched in the passenger seat like he’s got all the confidence in the world, grinning at you and totally unbothered by the fact that neither of you are supposed to be here.
Legally, neither of you can drive. But being Robin, he now possesses quite a few skills that most people your age don’t have. Bruce had long since taught him how to drive a car for emergencies and he was now great at it. He’d driven you guys out of Gotham and towards Wayne Manor, insisting it was time to teach you and that it’d be easier where there are hardly ever any cars.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” you mutter, fingers gripping the wheel tighter when he lets go and allows you free rein.
Jason simply laughs at your misery, tipping his head back against the seat. “Okay, first of all — you’re being dramatic. Second, wouldn’t you rather it be me teaching you, instead of some old guy who overcharges?”
“I’m seriously debating the old guy right now,” you grumble, ignoring his offended scoff. “What the fuck, Jay! This road is not straight.”
“It’s straight,” he insists, sitting up again to actually resume teaching you. “You’re nowhere near the edge, relax.”
You listen to him, loosening up a little and realising he’s right. You haven’t drifted in a while, and you are going in a pretty straight line. You won’t admit it, but it is kind of thrilling. The hum of the engine, the way the tires respond beneath you and the peaceful sense of freedom you have surrounded by nothing but trees and Jason. You test out the gas by pushing a little harder and speeding up, partly wanting to feel more control and partly so Jason doesn’t hound you about it.
“See, what’d I say?” Jason says, leaning back again and lightly nudging you. “You’re doing great…”
A flash of fur darts in front of the car and your breath hitches.
Your hands jerk the wheel, tires screeching against the pavement from the speed you were going at and you swerve hard to the right.
Jason slams one hand against the dashboard, his other arm reaching across your front to stop you going through the windshield, despite the fact you have your seatbelt on. “Fuck—”
The car skids to a stop, inches away from a tree. The animal — a raccoon, you realise with wide eyes — scurries off into the bushes, blissfully unaware.
You sit there, trying to remember how to breathe. From the corner of your eye, you see Jason’s shoulders shaking and you realise with horror that he’s laughing.
“Holy shit,” he wheezes, wiping at his eyes. “I really thought we were dead for a second.”
“We almost were!”
“Hey, you didn’t hit it. That’s a win!” He turns to you and grasps your by the arms, shaking you slightly and releasing the tension in your shoulders from where you’re all coiled up. “And do you really think I’d let anything happen to you?”
Jason smiles at you, but his eyes are concentrated on yours, his gaze unwavering. He’s trying to talk you off a ledge, but you don’t need it, not really. You know he’d never put you in actual danger.
Still, you groan, dropping your head against his shoulder and hiding your smile. The adrenaline still hasn’t left. “I hate you.”
“Nah,” Jason replies, easily. One hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, the other resting against your back and rubbing soothing circles. His voice is teasing, but warm. “You don’t.”
No, you think to yourself. You don’t.
Your mom has kept the same car since then, and you’ve never really wished for her to change it until you remember things like that.
You’re startled to realise that the wrought-iron gates of Wayne Manor loom ahead. They rise high, wrapped in ivy, intricate and imposing. Their black metalwork centres around the ‘W’ emblem which gleams in the daylight.
You get out your phone to text your arrival, but the security system whirs to life before you can, a camera adjusting overhead. Alright then.
The gate unlocks, swinging open slowly and deliberately and as you drive forward, the massive house rises up to greet you.
Your chest feels tight.
The manor towers over you, cutting sharp edges against the bright, clear sky. The windows glow faintly, but it’s a cold kind of warmth. Too big and grand for too few people.
When you park in the circular driveway, Alfred is unsurprisingly already waiting at the door for you and you try and control every muscle in your face to not physically wince with guilt.
“Miss,” he greets you, stepping aside to let you in. His voice carries the same steady patience as always, but there’s a flicker of something accusatory in his expression as he raises a brow at your appearance. You deserve worse, considering you’ve been avoiding these visits for months.
“Hey, Alfred,” you say, offering him a sheepish smile as you step past him. He takes your coat before you can insist you don’t need him to. You should be used to these things considering the majority of your friends happen to be the adopted children of a billionaire, the billionaire’s butler and, arguably, the billionaire himself. If you’re getting technical. Unfortunately, your less than privileged upbringing seems to be so completely engrained in you, and you still bristle at the rich people antics. You step back awkwardly. “Long time, huh?”
“Quite.” He gestures for you to follow him into the house and you obey, falling into step beside him. Despite the mildly reproachful tone, he seems pleased to see you. “I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten the way.”
Wincing, the excuse falls from your lips before you can even process the words. “I’ve just been so busy with work—” As soon as you say it, you’re grimacing, because this is Alfred you’re talking to.
If he had a nickel for every time he heard the same words from the inhabitants of Wayne Manor, he’d be able to buy his own Wayne Manor. Twice over. So, you at least have the grace to cut yourself off.
You sigh, turning to face him properly. “I’m sorry,” you say, injecting as much sincerity as you possibly can, because you are. And work has actually been busy, but you know that you could have carved out time to see Alfred. You just had a small problem with the meeting location.
You spent a good amount of time here when Jason was alive, but that wasn’t really the issue. If anything, you choose to surround yourself in spaces that feel like him — why else would you still be living in Crime Alley? Certainly not for the ambience.
After Jason’s death, you found yourself practically living here, unable to tear yourself away from his bedroom and retracing the steps the two of you would take together every time you ran around the Manor. And no one else really wanted to take you away either, taking pity on the teenage girl who couldn’t mention his name without crying for a whole year.
So, as much as you wish you could focus on the happier memories of this place, the memories of the time spent mourning your best friend seem to take priority in your brain.
Despite this, you suppose it’s time to grow up a little. It’s not like you’re having to physically fight the demons every time you step foot in the Manor, so what’s another migraine from having to fight them in your head over a couple dinners every month. You attempt a sincere smile towards Alfred. “I promise I’ll be better about visiting. I, uh… I should have come sooner, but… y’know,” you try and explain without words, vaguely gesturing to the high ceilings and polished floors.
Something in his expression softens. “Indeed.”
A beat of silence. Then, his lips twitch — just slightly and you relax.
“Well,” he says, stepping aside as you reach Bruce’s study. “I suppose there’s no time like the present.”
He nods once, before turning to walk in the direction of the kitchen, undoubtedly to make the dinner that he’s going to force you to stay and eat.
You adjust your heavy bag at your side and knock twice on the door, pushing it open when you hear Bruce calling for you to come in.
He sits at his desk, papers strewn everywhere and multiple mugs of unfinished coffee that have gone cold. He looks up when you walk in, offering you the closest thing he has to a smile — a subtle nod and a slight shift in posture that means he’s glad to see you.
“You made it,” he says, as if he was the one who invited you and not the other way around. You hadn’t had the position of Philanthropy and Outreach Co-ordinator for long, and who better than Bruce Wayne to go to when you want to ensure you’re actually doing your job at Wayne Enterprises properly. Not that it was a particularly easy task. He’s genuinely the busiest man you know and you’re lucky you were able to have a conversation with him about this that lasted longer than a few seconds.
“Shocking, I know,” you tease, dropping a folder on his desk. “Try not to look too excited.”
He huffs a quiet breath, flipping open the folder. Inside are the details for the upcoming Wayne Foundation gala — your latest, carefully curated headache. Bruce may hate the public-facing side of things, but he understands the necessity, which is exactly why he agreed to look over things for your first official project.
“This is a lot,” he says, skimming the notes. The lack of a frown on his face tells you that he’s complimenting you and you can’t help glowing inside. You feel like you’re fifteen again. “I’m sure you don’t even need me for this.”
“I just want to make sure it runs smoothly,” you say, letting out a nervous chuckle and crossing your arms, watching him. “Also, if I don’t get your input, I’ll have to deal with the board complaining about how the Wayne Foundation is ‘out of touch’ or whatever. And quite frankly, I don’t get paid enough to handle that and put up with your brooding.”
That earns you a half-smirk. Small victories.
“You’re still coming, right?”
Bruce doesn’t look up, but his hesitation is enough of an answer.
“Bruce.”
He sighs. “I’ll be there.”
You lean against the desk and attempt to stare him down. It’s a lot easier when you’re not having to physically look up at him — it was a hundred times worse when you and Jason were kids and you were practically looking up to the ceiling.
“You sure? I know how much you love playing host, but I really want this to go well.”
“I’ll manage.”
“Fantastic,” you deadpan. “That’s really the kind of enthusiasm we need to make this a huge success.”
Bruce pointedly ignores you. He flips to another page in your folder, skimming over the guest list. You watch his expression carefully, but he stays silent. He’s a man of few words, but when you’re in front of him, you seem to revert back to the girl you used to be and it’s hard to leave the silence alone.
“Well?” you ask, rocking back and forth on your feet — another old habit. You carefully selected the guest list with a whole myriad of purposes behind each individual, so you’re sorely hoping he doesn’t have a problem. “Guest list up to par?”
“It’s good,” he simply states, nodding and moving onto the next page. It’s just about decor and themes and you don’t think he has any interest in it, but he politely glances over it nonetheless. “No notes.”
You raise your brows, surprised with yourself. “What, no shady businessmen or criminals or undercover villains? You’re kidding.”
“Oh, no, there are plenty of them,” he clarifies, matter-of-fact. You deflate and he shakes his head, waving you off. “But, they’re nothing to be concerned about. They’re all major names and donors and they won’t be causing any trouble at an event like this.”
You know that he’s already run the calculations in his head, weighed the risks and is thinking five steps ahead like he always does. It isn’t the donors you care as much about. Sure, the money is a huge part of the fundraiser (It’s literally in the name. You do need the funds). However, it’s not as if Wayne Enterprises is running low on the stuff.
Your main agenda here is networking (the word makes you internally cringe a little, because God, you’re such an adult now), and while you’re not going to say no to the guests donating money, you’re in dire need of signatures. Unfortunately, Bruce doesn’t own every inch of land in Gotham, a fact that you’ve jokingly berated him for in the past. Planning permission for the children’s shelters and renovations and such that you have in mind will need the support of your seriously corrupt government officials.
Enter the bells and whistles needed to suck up to them — fortunately you aren’t too proud to use them. You’re not one of the Bats.
Still, inviting a bunch of them, littered with a whole group of hopefully normal, nice people, to your first event makes you something akin to nervous.
“Right…” you trail off, still unsure if you should be concerned or just accept it. “Good to know what the current state of Gotham’s most esteemed politicians and businessmen is. Really gives me faith in our city.”
Bruce’s lips quirk up and he closes the folder, looking up at you. Story of his life, you guess. The next words coming out of his mouth make you pause. “It looks good. You’re doing well.”
It’s not exactly Shakespeare, but it has the same effect as if he had just hugged you and recited poetry in your name. Praise from Bruce was something that never got old. You swallow, suddenly feeling an embarrassing wave of emotion come over you, but you quickly quell it down before Bruce gets awkward and doesn’t know where to look. “Thank you, Bruce. Really.”
He nods, satisfied. Although it does seem as though he wants to say something else, but appears to be struggling to find the words. Thankfully, for both of you, Alfred chooses that moment to interrupt.
“I do hope the two of you are planning to eat something this evening,” he says, standing at the door with his hands clasped behind his back. His stare makes you squirm.
You fidget, looking at Bruce who is conveniently looking through the same page in your folder he was looking at five minutes ago. “I mean, I—”
“Excellent. I’ve prepared a dinner that I’m sure will provide more sustenance than whatever processed meal you were planning to pick up on your way home.” His gaze shifts to Bruce. “It certainly trumps eating nothing at all.”
Bruce exhales. “Alfred—”
“Master Wayne,” he cuts in smoothly, already taking a step back to walk away. “I trust you will be joining us, rather than working… at the risk of being a rude host.”
You bite back a grin when Bruce frowns at you. You’ve never really been a guest at this house, so the idea of Bruce hosting you is a laughable concept that you’re sure he wants to argue with Alfred about. The attempt to stare his butler down is a good effort, you think. But futile, as it’s never been done successfully.
“…Fine,” Bruce mutters eventually.
Alfred has already set the table by the time you and Bruce step into the dining room which tells you he really wasn’t planning on leaving without the two of you. Everything is perfectly arranged, warm lighting softening the cavernous space, the faint scent of something freshly baked lingering in the air. It’s not a grand affair, but it’s practically a party in comparison to your usual takeout on the couch.
Damian is already sat there, feeding a piece of something under the table to his dog, Titus. He glances up at you, mild surprise flickering across his face before it settles back to expressionless. “I see. That explains all this.”
“Hello to you too, Damian,” you say cheerfully, pulling out a chair as Bruce does the same at the head of the table. His confusion doesn’t surprise you. It really has been a while since you visited, and it’s not as though either you or Damian hang out together on the regular. He’s thirteen years old. You aren’t that lonely.
You like to think he has a level of respect for you from a comfortable distance the same way you do. In a ‘Hey, I too, was once a misunderstood child running around this house with your deceased adoptive older brother that you never knew’ kind of way.
Damian huffs, picking up his fork. “I was in the middle of training, Father.”
“And now you’re in the middle of dinner,” Bruce says, raising a brow. “Eat.”
Damian grumbles, stabbing a piece of his food with a little too much force. “So, what is the purpose of this gala?”
You blink, not expecting him to take an interest. “It’s a Wayne Foundation event for youth outreach. I’m trying to encourage more scholarships, community engagement and all that. Get some signatures to build some more shelters in the near future.”
“And will I be expected to attend?”
“Not if you don’t want to,” you say, at the same time as Bruce who says, “Yes.”
Damian lets out a long suffering sigh. “Is Drake being forced to go as well?”
“I need him to come,” you explain, frowning. “He has connections.”
Probably the only twenty one year old in the world with the connections that you’re talking about. Damian seemingly accepts this, going back to his food without another word.
From across the table, Bruce leans back slightly and watches you. You feel like you’re under a microscope.
“You’re still living in Park Row?”
You tense. “You know I am.”
He doesn’t look away, his posture seemingly stiffer than before, if that were even possible. “You should move.”
Here we go.
You truly thought that this conversation was done with months ago. That Bruce had finally accepted you weren’t going to just pack up and leave your home just because he insisted. The Batman card wasn’t going to work with this.
You take a deep sigh, tilting your head back. “God, not this again.”
“It’s not safe.”
“It’s Gotham. Name one place there hasn’t been any trouble.”
Damian, who has been silently watching the exchange in a not-so-subtle way, chimes in. “It is a valid concern.”
You glance at him, raising a suspicious brow. “Since when do you care where I live?”
“I don’t,” he says bluntly. You don’t miss the way he exchanges a look with Bruce or how he sat up a little straighter when he mentioned Park Row. Like annoying father, like annoying son. “But you’re not exactly… equipped to handle an ambush alone.”
“Wow. Thanks,” you say, before turning back to Bruce. “I’m not moving.”
Bruce exhales, setting down his fork. No, you almost want to whine like a moody teenager getting a lecture again. Pick it up and go back to dinner and stop talking about this!
Being reprimanded by Bruce at twenty three years of age isn’t nearly as funny as it was back in the day. For one thing, Jason wasn’t here being on the receiving end of it. You were usually just there to tag along by his side hearing most of the scolding being directed towards him, with the occasional ‘I expect more from both of you.’ You sometimes felt like he just didn’t want to leave you out. Another thing being that you actually have a parent in your life who you hear enough of it from.
Bruce furrows his brows. “Your mother—”
“—is living in her nice little house in Burnley, thanks to you.” You point your fork at him. “She’s good. She’s happy. She also calls me twice a week to say I should move, so I really don’t need you doubling down.”
Bruce’s expression doesn’t change. “She’s right.”
You sigh, dropping your own fork. It probably doesn’t have nearly the same stern effect as Bruce doing it, but damn it, a girl can try. “I like where I live.”
Alfred, ever the peacekeeper, smoothly refills your glass of water. But there’s a hint of something reprimanding in his own tone as he speak to Bruce. “I believe the young Miss is quite capable of making her own decisions.”
“Hear, hear,” you say, nodding at him. You know these vigilante types are stubborn, though and you’ve been doing some light research, reading some local newsletters about that Red Hood guy you heard about the other day. You’ve barely formed an opinion about him yourself, so you don’t know why you bring him up in an attempt to sway Bruce’s opinion on Crime Alley being a safe enough place to live, but the words are spilling out before you can think twice. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, anyway. I hear there’s some new guy hanging around and keeping people out of trouble, so…”
The mood shifts almost immediately. Bruce doesn’t look at you directly, but his hand flexes slightly before resting back against the table. Damian’s fork pauses again — not even for a full second, but enough that you catch it. Even Alfred stills, before going back to fussing around with the place settings.
“…What?” You glance between them. “What did I say?”
Damian looks as though he wants to say something, but a look from Bruce’s stormy grey eyes, which have turned hard and stern, has him turning back to petting Titus under the table. You don’t miss the way his jaw has tightened.
“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce says, allowing his shoulders to relax when no one says anything. You’re used to the weird silences around you when it comes to vigilante business. It had been going on since Jason was around, (although he would fill you in on most things privately, anyway) and it didn’t really bother you. The less you knew about things, the better. It doesn’t make this conversation any less tense though. “Just… keep safe.”
“Yes, sir,” you mumble, giving him a two-fingered salute and returning to your dinner as he does the same.
There’s a beat of silence. Then, as if on cue, Alfred clears his throat. “More vegetables?”
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You drop your mom’s car off at hers, stepping in for an hour to catch up and letting her interrogate you about your eating and sleeping habits while you nod and lie, the occasional truth thrown in.
She insisted you take the car home, but after ten minutes of arguing, she’s convinced that you’ll make it to your apartment alive if you take a cab instead. You choose to omit the fact that you’re stopping at work to drop off your files for your boss to look over in the morning now that you’re happy with Bruce’s input and that you’ll walk the rest of the way home.
(You’ve got to get your steps in. Plus the weather is looking pretty good. Mental health walks are very important in the current state of the world and you like to think they cancel out the unhealthy eating and lack of sleep.)
You try your best not to walk home from work when it’s dark, because as much as your protests against Bruce and your mom may suggest otherwise, you don’t actually want to be murdered in Crime Alley.
The streets stretch out ahead of you, no longer slick with the remnants of the earlier light rain and you breathe in as much fresh air as you can before you start to enter the shadier part of town.
The buildings start to lose their shine the closer you get to home, turning older and angrier in the dark. The grime covered windows, rusted balconies and bricks, weathered by rain and neglect look like they could collapse in on you any second now. They won’t, though. They’ve been around longer than you’ve been alive.
The first sign of trouble comes as a sound.
A sharp, violent crack — the unmistakeable impact of a fist against bone.
You freeze.
Damn it, you think to yourself. Damn it all to hell, because you don’t want to live in a world where Bruce and Damian are right and you’re wrong.
You deduce that the sounds are coming from the alley across the street, which is unfortunate considering that’s the way to your apartment complex.
It’s the space between two crumbling brick buildings, half-lit by the flickering glow of a neon pink ‘OPEN’ sign hanging above a little beauty parlour that isn’t actually open, but the sign is always on. You shouldn’t look. You should just keep walking.
There’s just one little thing. If you take another route, it adds at least ten minutes to your journey and your feet are already dragging from exhaustion. So if you’re going to avoid going through your usual alley route, it’s got to be for a good reason.
You aren’t stupid. But you’re also a curious person by nature. And maybe you’re a tiny bit desensitised to these things with the crowd you tend to run with.
At least that’s what you tell yourself when you start to venture towards the noise, a single streetlamp dimly glowing overhead to light your path, revealing old cigarette butts ground into the concrete and a pile of shattered glass. There’s also something dark smeared across the concrete that, in spite of yourself, you lean in a bit closer to inspect.
The smell of stale beer, damp cardboard and the rot of garbage from the general vicinity suddenly wafts into your nose and causes a wave of nausea that has you standing straight again. That’s definitely enough of that.
At the same time, you catch sight of a figure shifting in the alley ahead of you.
It’s the Red Hood, you note with a hint of surprise.
You recognise him from your previous Google inspection, the blurry pictures not doing much justice to his imposing figure, but it’s definitely him.
He’s taller than you expected. Broad-shouldered and solid. His black leather jacket shifts as he exhales, head tilting just slightly like he’s considering something as he looks down.
There are four guys. Or at least, four bodies. Two of them are on the ground, unmoving and the other two don’t look much better. One is spitting blood onto the pavement, another is trying (and failing miserably) to push himself upright. He groans something unintelligible. If Red Hood responds, you don’t hear it.
Instead, he shifts his weight, combat boots scuffing against the cracked concrete. He doesn’t look tired or out of breath and when he’s stationary, it’s a deadly stillness.
When he does move, the neon glow catches on his helmet, the deep red gleaming like fresh blood. You have to give it to him — it takes a really frightening figure to not look silly under bright pink lighting. You suppose the rusted fire escape to the side of building helps the image, considering the lowest rung is bent at an odd angle. There’s a man lying unconscious beside it. You can put two and two together.
Red Hood straightens, rolling his shoulders and breathing steadily. He looks at you.
Your pulse jumps. You should move, should pretend you didn’t just stop in the middle of a dark and creepy alleyway to gawk at a violent fight scene. Well, the end of one anyway.
But you can’t find the will to move your legs. From fright or something else, you aren’t sure. But there’s something about the way he stands; relaxed, but coiled beneath the surface, like a predator that hasn’t decided if it’s ready to pounce or not. His fingers flex at his sides before curling back into loose fists, and then he moves.
Not towards you, or anything in particular. Just a slight shift of weight, as if registering your presence and deciding not to acknowledge it further.
You take that as your cue to leave and take the long way home, tearing your gaze away from the white gleam of his eyepiece and slowly backing up. You’re still not running, just walking at a leisurely pace and trying to control your breathing until you get back onto the main sidewalk. It isn’t until you’re walking past other people that you feel like you can relax your shoulders and actually start thinking about what you just saw.
In hindsight, your survival instincts probably need some work, but hey — he’s meant to be a vigilante. Sure, you shouldn’t believe everything you read online, but if you can’t trust Google, then what hope do you really have.
Maybe it can’t hurt to look at some of those apartment listings that Tim is always sending you.
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© angelfic. 2025
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pepshee · 1 day ago
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Jealousy, or Jealous Hee: Second First Dates
⋆˙ ⋆⭒˚.⋆
Pairing - ex!heeseung x fem!reader Genre - smut, a bit of fluff, angst Synopsis - After you hooked up with you ex-boyfriend, Heeseung, who had broken up with you out of the blue you didn't know what would happen afterward. Will you finally get your answer as to why? Word Count - 5.4k Warnings - cursing, mentions of alcohol, a bit of angst towards the end, smut, reader is insecure, mentions of manipulation and peer pressure, heeseung is an asshole in the first half, some cringe (oops), mentions of Jake & other idols, mentions of possessive heeseung, heeseung is desperate and begs for forgiveness, a little fluff, cream pie, fingering, p in v, plot twist-ish?, lmk if I missed anything!! MDNI 18+ A/N: thank you guys for the love on the first part i really appreciate it 😭 i didn't expect ppl to actually like it but im really glad you did! also if you have c.ai, i make bots over there too! my invite code here! also.. please keep in mind this is only my second time ever writing a fanfic so if it's ass in your opinion then idk what to tell you... i hope you do enjoy tho thank you in advance for reading !! <3 (even if you didn't like it)
PART ONE HERE
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Waking up in your own dorm after you had hooked up with your ex at a house party last night wasn't what you expected. You thought you'd be next to him, but of course, that was crushed. At least he was a gentleman and brought you home, right? There was one question that lingered in your mind, what happens now? It was disappointing not waking up next to him, but then again, what did you really expect?
You get up out of your bed seeing your roommate's bed is empty, but then the smell of bacon hits you, she must be cooking. After getting dressed you make your way to the kitchen, you are so glad your university was at least prestigious so they had bigger dorms than the average one. You had a raging headache, as expected from the alcohol. "Hey Giselle," your voice a bit scratchy due to having just woken up.
Giselle turns around, you can see the slight concern in her eyes but also a hint of a smirk. "Y/N, you're up," she says softly, however, you still had a ton of questions in your mind. "What happened last night?" You're a bit embarrassed at the fact you had to even ask that question.
"Well.. After we went to the party we all split up and I assume you went to drink alcohol, cause the next thing we knew you were being brought out of the party by Heeseung. You were completely asleep, nothing woke you up," your face heats up a bit at the memory of getting drunk and hooking up with your ex-boyfriend who fucked you over. "Right.. and did he tell you any details about anything..” You hoped that he didn’t because it would be even more embarrassing for your friends to know you had sex with your ex who fucked you over.
Those hopes are immediately crushed by Giselle’s reply, “Y/N you were so drunk you had sex with Heeseung, your fucking ex and you don’t even remember it,” she chuckles at the end of her sentence. 
Damn.. Well, now your friends know you hooked up with your ex-boyfriend.
“It was an accident..” 
“Y/N it’s okay to want him back, but..” she paused for a moment emphasizing the word ‘but.’ “You shouldn’t let him get it so easily,” she continued. 
Then an idea hit you, seduction.
“Giselle holy shit,” she perked up at your words while she plated the breakfast she just finished making for the two of you. 
“What'd you think of girl?”
“I’m gonna post slightly revealing photos of myself on my Instagram story with little subtle jabs at him like he does to me, I’m gonna get back at him by showing him what he made himself lose,” you couldn't stop the grin that formed on your face.
“You mean you’re gonna ‘show him what he’s missing?' Isn’t that super cliché?” she might be right.. But he did it first.
“Well he’s been posting his new girls to make me jealous, so why don’t I try seducing him, and if he messages me I just play hard to get. Like you said, I shouldn’t let him get to me so easily,” you relayed your reasoning for the idea and you see Giselle think for a moment considering your words. “Okay you know what, maybe it is a good idea, after all, he fucked you over,” she almost started grinning. 
After having eaten the breakfast Giselle cooked, you ran to your closet to pull over any sort of revealing clothes you had. You find a slightly-too-small black tank top, and grey shorts. You had originally planned on being comfy today since you were still hungover—you were wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, but you quickly change into the tank top and the shorts and then did your makeup.
You decided to take a selfie in bed, and so you lay down and grabbed your phone. You swiped right to open your camera, and you positioned it in a way where it would show your cleavage just enough so that it's not obvious.
It took you a bit to get the perfect one, but when you did, you open Instagram and thought of a caption to put.
'i miss you. missing you is hard, but i bet missing me makes you hard'
You knew it was definitely cringe, but it got your point across so you could live with the cringe right?
You'd clicked the 'Add to story' button almost too fast. You and Heeseung don't follow each other anymore but you know he stalks your account. He uses his friend's account to do it without it being suspicious, which you can't blame him because why else would you have Giselle's password if not to stalk your ex-boyfriend cause he stalks you?
After logging into Giselle's account you tapped on Heeseungs story to see what he had posted. You immediately regret your decision because you're met with a photo of him and his friends, with alcohol, snacks, and of course, Heeseung is with a girl. He even had the audacity to put 'this could've been you' god this asshole doesn't know when to stop does he?
He was just being nice to you last night after you hooked up, why does he keep doing this to you? Once again with the taunting...
You were so lucky not to have Saturday classes, it meant you could go anywhere you wanted to. Believe it or not, you were actually majoring in dance, and even though you didn't have to go to classes, you still at least wanted to go to the studio.
────୨ৎ────
Dancing was therapeutic to you, everyone told you not to do it as your major because it wouldn't take you anywhere they said to just leave it a hobby. However, before you even graduated college you had offers from Idol companies trying to scout you. Usually, you would have celebrated that with Heeseung but that obviously wasn't an option.
You had spent a few hours dancing and you were getting really hungry and tired so you sprayed some perfume and reapplied deodorant before grabbing your bag and leaving the studio.
You didn't want to go out to eat so you decided to settle on the on-campus cafeteria which thankfully makes decent food. It was just about lunch time so it was quite packed there. You walked up to one of the counters and looked at the menu, but you still couldn't quite see so you took a couple of steps back until you felt your back hit something... or was it, someone?
The hands that flew to your waist were a clear indicator of who it was without even needing to turn around, it was him.
Too petrified to turn around, you just stand there frozen, not knowing what to do.
"You think you're slick huh? I saw what you posted on Instagram, it's about me, isn't it? In that case, you may be right," It's like your whole body failed to react, it didn't know how to. "I will say, whatever you're trying to do, it's working," he leaned down to whisper that into your ear.
Before you can respond he lets go and walks away, finally turning around to watch him leave. What is his problem?
You ordered your food, which was tteokbokki and kimbap.
Throughout your lunch you keep thinking about what had happened with Heeseung, did he do it on purpose? There's no way he was just coincidentally there right?
Whatever his reasoning was, you didn't care, he was trying to get to you.
When you finished your lunch you didn't know what else to do today so instead you figured you'd at least hang out with your friends so you took out your phone.
────୨ৎ────
It didn't take long for you all to agree on the mall, and you're currently waiting for the others to arrive. You and Giselle had gone together since you're roommates so you were just waiting for Karina, Yujin, and Moka. Minnie wasn't able to make it since she had a test to study for.
A little while longer the other three finally arrived, the five of you walking through the mall and looking through various stores.
You decided to take this as an opportunity to buy more clothes to fuck with Heeseung. The clothes you were buying were either the slightest bit too small, making them tight so they cling to your curves, or showed some sort of skin, some a lot, some just enough that would make him crazy.
You see, one thing about Heeseung is while you two were dating he was such a sweetheart when you two were in public, but as soon as you got home is when his possessive side would show. He'd recount all the times a man looked at you a bit too much or too closely and he'd fuck your brains out.
That was one of your favorite things, how good he'd fuck you when you wore crop tops, skirts, shorts, or tank tops. He didn't control what you'd wear, he let you do whatever, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't wear revealing clothes in public on purpose cause you were horny for him to fuck you at home.
Any other time he was a sweetheart, he was perfect, he wouldn't hurt a fly but when you had sex that all went out the window.
Now, however, you're buying revealing clothes to piss him off, to make him break, to get revenge, to make him beg for mercy.
You felt as if this revenge plan was a bit bland, but you couldn't think of anything else but to just drive him insane.
You and the girls had a lot of fun, and got told to shut up a few times from laughing too loud... but at least you have had fun.
It was 8 PM by the time you and Giselle made it back to the dorms. You made it just in time for curfew so you wouldn't get in trouble. You'd always thought it was stupid for a university to give adults a curfew, but it was pretty influential so you guess the university just didn't want its reputation ruined by their students dropping out to take care of babies.
Curfew didn't do anything anyway, you just couldn't leave your specific dorm building after 8:30 PM, you didn't know what would happen if you did it anyway but you honestly didn't care enough to find out.
────୨ৎ────
That morning when you woke up you immediately thought about what to wear to make Heeseung jealous, to make him mad.
You reached over and grabbed your phone and opened Instagram in order to check Heeseungs story, of course, he has a new one. You tap on it and see a video, clearly taken by a friend of his and it's him, with a new girl—because of course it is who fucking else could it be—the video was Heeseung and his new girl, who you identified as Julie Han. She was in your dance group, and she was really good and she's really pretty. You've always admired her beauty, but also felt a bit insecure. You wanted to be like her so badly. Heeseung didn't know that, or maybe he did considering you two broke up before you even had the chance to meet your classmates.
Seeing this rubbed even more salt into the wound, the girl you'd admired, and wanted to be friends with, and that made you feel insecure. Obviously it wasn't her fault you were insecure, she was super nice to you, and she didn't say anything to make you insecure it was just all in your head.
Seeing the video of him with Julie, he had his arm around her, and they were clearly flirting. It made your blood boil, but at the same time made your eyes water. You didn't know if you should be angry, or if you should cry.
You didn't know if it was on purpose, or if he was just doing his usual girl-to-girl shit. If he did know then he was a complete asshole for using her against you.
The truth is, he did know.
Yesterday, when you were walking to the cafeteria for lunch, you were recording a voice message to send to your friends. You had run into Julie while leaving the studio. That reminded you that you hadn't even told your friends about her so that's why you were recording a voice message.
Heeseung was with you, well not with you, rather.. behind you. He was walking with his friends, and he hadn't even realized it was you until you started speaking. He couldn't stop himself from eavesdropping and when he heard what you said about Julie, he knew exactly what to do.
He wanted you back, desperately, he knew you wouldn't easily accept him back into your life so he decided to try and make you desperate, just as much as he is. He used Julie, he wanted to make you as jealous as possible so you crawl back to him. When he saw your first story with the subtle jab at him and the cleavage he knew you were trying to clap back at him, you were trying to give him a taste of his own medicine. He'd be a liar if he said it wasn't working because it was. He hated that you had posted that, that you were revealing yourself to others. He knew he fucked up, and he knew he needed you back.
After you had seen the story of Julie and Heeseung you knew you had to strike again. You got out of bed and went to your closet grabbing one of the bags of new clothes you'd gotten yesterday. After dumping the clothes on your bed you finally picked out an outfit you knew would rile him up. It was a pair of white shorts, with a dark blue top. The top was pretty much a bralette, it's not something you'd wear out, but you bought it for the purpose of making Heeseung jealous—also in case you decided to go to the bar or another party—you went to your bathroom to do your hair and makeup before taking the photo.
After you finished those you posed in front of your mirror with your phone in hand. You tried doing poses that would show off your ass or would maximize the amount of skin you show in the picture.
Finally, after about 5-10 minutes you got the perfect shot, and you went straight to Instagram to post it.
With a small filter added, all you had to do was add the caption, but what should you even put? You had no clue honestly, you weren't as witty as you had originally thought.
Maybe posting it without a witty caption would be better, making less noise will create more noise.
So that's exactly what you did. You uploaded the photo to your story and waited. Waited for Heeseung to see it., until he did.
Heeseung went onto Instagram after he hung out with his friends, plus Julie, and he saw that you had posted on your story. He clicked on it and what he saw was something he expected, but also didn't. He hated that you were posting shit like this. He couldn't take it anymore, he slid up and started typing out a reply to your story.
It was about three hours after you had posted it when you got a notification while you were scrolling through tik tok.
'heeseung.lhs69 replied to your story: Y/N can you knock this off?'
Seeing the notification shocked you, first off why does he have '69' in his username? Is he serious? Since when did he have 7th-grade boy humor? It was probably the fault of his dumbass friends.
You didn't really know how to reply to him, but what matters is your plan worked. He fell for your bait finally.
you: what're you talking abt ?
hee: you know what I'm talking abt y/n
you: no i don't think i do heeseung
hee: we should talk in person y/n
you: ykw fine when and where
hee: ice cream place where we had our first date, 6 pm, today
you: k i'll see you then ig
Although it didn't seem like it, you were really nervous. He seemed serious even if it was just over text. It was only 4:30, so you had about an hour and thirty minutes to get ready or contemplate your choices, probably both.
You started getting ready, you didn't know how to dress really. You went for simple baggy jeans, a grey tank top, and a zip-up sweater. It was now 5:30, and so you left your dorm and started walking to said ice cream place.
After entering you saw him.. he was sitting at a booth. He looked quite nervous actually which is a big contrast to how you've been seeing him for two and a half years.
You slid into the seat in front of him and he immediately looked up from the table to look at you. "Hey," his voice was soft and gentle. You looked into his eyes, his soft, big doe eyes.. Looking into his eyes was your favorite activity when you were together, they were so beautiful. "Hey," you replied, also in a soft and gentle tone.
"I think we have to talk Y/N, I just want to explain myself," you let out a sigh knowing that he's right, you do have to talk. How could he leave you like that? "Explain it to me Heeseung, explain to me why you left me like the way you did," he was immediately saddened when you raised your voice a little at him.
"Y/N, I'll explain.. Please just calm down. I don't have a good reason.. Jake, my roommate, well we were talking and he told me about all the girls he's been with, and he asked me about how many girls he and I told him we've been together for five years and he started laughing. He then told me he was gonna invite a couple of friends, which he did," you didn't interrupt him the whole time. You just listened as he continued to talk.
"When they came over, it was four of them, Jake told them what I said about you and then they all started going on about how I'm too young to be tied down like that, I should live a little. I originally shot it down but they started giving me alcohol. The more they talked about the benefits of being single, and the more they talked about all the fun they have I started to believe them. I felt as though I was tying you down, I was a burden, that you'd be better off without me," you didn't know if you should be pissed off or pity him, he was influenced by his 'friends.'
"I started to believe what they were telling me, and they were telling me I should just let you go because you're probably getting bored. I was scared of the future, I was scared you'd break it off cause you were bored, and so I broke up with you first. I started doing all the things they did, hookup, smoke, drink, party and I did it all to move on from you," his story was making sense, that's 100% something his friends would do but you were still pissed at him.
"That doesn't explain to me why you didn't just think to talk to me and express your feelings to me. We could've talked this out, but you didn't even bother to text me," he sighed knowing you were right, and he didn't even have an excuse.
"I don't have an excuse, I'm an idiot Y/N. I love you so much and I wasn't thinking, they manipulated me, and I believed it all.. It was selfish of me and I know what I did was wrong. I hurt you and I'm just realizing it. It took me this long to realize how much of an asshole I was, my actions weren't okay," he looked back down at the table like he was in shame.
"Why would you post girls in your story though? I know it was to make me jealous, your story makes sense but that part doesn't add up," honestly you believed his story. He's always been quite gullible and pliable. Obviously, you never used that as an advantage, you'd never take advantage of him.
"Well... I wanted you back but I didn't know how to contact you.. How to communicate it, how to get through to you. When you posted that on your story earlier I couldn't hold back. I know you've been using Giselle's account to view my story, and that's not exactly relevant, but I've been doing it cause I miss you, and I want you. My new persona, it's all fake. I don't like doing this stuff. I just wanted to fit in and forget about you, I was depressed and vulnerable when Jake started doing what he was doing. I love you, I miss you, I want you, and I don't have any good excuses."
He's right, his excuse isn't exactly good, he knows he fucked up, and did you wrong. He had no actual good excuse, he had no actual reason for the thing with the girls.
"You should've just talked to me Heeseung," you were disappointed in him, and you resented him. "I know Y/N, I'm an idiot, and I made a selfish, vulnerable mistake. Please, I want you to forgive me, I want to be with you again, I want to be with you forever," those last few words were kind of shocking to you. Did he mean that? You both had discussed marriage and the future briefly and that ended in a big argument so it was never brought up again.
"What are you even saying?"
"I'm saying I see a future with you, and I know we had a huge fight about the future which also led to our break up, but I'm serious. I want you back. Please," he didn't stutter, not one bit and that solidified his point. He was serious.
"Okay, but you still hurt me, you still did all these bad things that made you an asshole. I can't just forget what you did to me," he was so, so desperate for you, so desperate to get you back to him. "Please."
He kept repeating himself,
"Please Y/N,"
"Please,"
It was almost pathetic how he was begging, how he was so desperate, but at the same time, it was so sexy. You had never seen him beg you before, he'd always been the top. You looked into his eyes, and he was staring right back at you waiting for a response.
It was difficult, you didn't know if you should forgive him, after all, he happened to fall in with the wrong crowd, he was manipulated, he was molded.
"Heeseung, you still fucked me over, you still ruined me, and broke my heart. Don't you know how hard this is?" he nodded, he knew you'd be hesitant. He never expected you to give in immediately and he knew he would have to convince you. However, there was one detail he left out, one that would change everything.
"Y/N, there was a detail I left out, and it seems that you completely forgot that you also played a part in this. You're not completely innocent," you were confused, how could that even be?
"When Jake was giving me alcohol and convincing me of all these things, I texted you, I needed you, I needed your support in that moment, and I know you weren't busy either. You ignored me, ignored me when I needed you most. That, plus all the manipulation, it broke me, it made me send that text, made me spiral into who I am now," holy shit. He was right.
Nearly three years ago, two days before your first day as a college freshman, you were decorating your dorm. You and Giselle went shopping for decorations and you weren't busy at all that whole day which Heeseung knew.
You had seen the notifications coming in, you read them and you didn't reply. You remember the texts, you remember it all.
'y/n i need you rn'
'babe pls reply'
'i need you please im serious y/n pls respond'
You were so caught up in your dorm decorations, and shopping you ignored Heeseung when he needed you the most, when he needed you to save him.
You weren't busy, you just simply didn't reply.
It was partly your fault.
"Heeseung.." now it was your turn to beg, to ask for forgiveness, and it didn't feel very good. "I'm so sorry, it's my fault. I saw the texts and I just ignored them, and I don't know why. You needed me, you needed help, and I wasn't there.. Holy shit," you wanted to reach for his hand, to hold him, but you knew you didn't have the right to.
"Y/N, I needed you, I really did, and you weren't there. We both fucked up, we both contributed to the end of our relationship. What matters is that I realized what was happening, that I changed for the worst, and that I realized that they had manipulated me, and peer pressured me. We both messed it up, and I want to fix it, please," his words resonated with you and he was absolutely correct. You both fucked up.
"What do we do? Do you mean you want to get back together?" you were hoping he would say yes, you did want to get back with him, I mean that was literally the whole goal.
"Yes, I want you to be mine again, I still love you, I never stopped," you immediately nodded in response telling him you also wanted to be back together.
"I missed you, babe," the nickname had always made your heart flutter but hearing it after all these years that's not in the context of a one-night stand made your cheeks heat up.
It felt like your first date all over again, you're even in the same place, a second first date.
"Let's go back to my dorm, Jake isn't there, and he won't return till like the afternoon tomorrow," you nodded and got up. He grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the ice cream shop and back towards campus.
After you arrived at his dorm he couldn't hold himself back and immediately crashed his lips to yours. You instantly started kissing him back. It felt more real this time, it was filled with love, passion, and longing.
You felt your back hit the wall as his hands grabbed onto your hips, and your fingers got lost in his hair.
He broke away from the kiss before grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it off of you. "You've been driving me insane, you know, with those revealing photos of yours. Especially the one of your cleavage. I missed your tits so bad baby," his hands grab your clothed tits. You can feel him reach behind your back and make quick work of the clasp he was clearly skilled.
When he got it off you could feel his mouth attach to one of your nipples. You let out a small moan which just egged him on. "Hee— please," he let go of your nipple and looked into your eyes, but that didn't last long because he immediately started kissing your neck, and biting it gently while he unbuttoned your jean shorts.
"Shit I missed this so fucking much Y/N," you clenched around nothing at his words, you could feel that your underwear was ruined, and how drenched they were, and so could he.
Once he got your shorts off he threw them somewhere in the room, it didn't even matter. You felt his hands trace your underwear and touched your clothed pussy. He let out a groan at the feeling of how wet you were, "holy shit Y/N, you're so fucking wet already," he took your hand dragging you to his bed. He debated doing it on Jake's bed for revenge, but he didn't want any more problems or misunderstandings, he just wanted you.
Now you were lying on his bed with him hovering above you. This time it felt more real, it felt more passionate rather than when you were drunk and stupid.
He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and pulled it off, and when he did you got shy and tried to close your legs but he wouldn't let you. He gripped your thighs and pulled them apart again giving him a view of your bare, dripping pussy. The look of pure hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.
He ran one of his hands down your thigh, then to your inner thigh, and finally reached your core. He ran a finger through your folds teasing your entrance. You were so desperate you couldn't help but moan.
The wetness of your cunt made him groan, and his pants tighten. He stuck one finger in, and then a second. The intrusion made you moan and squirm, but that only made him smirk.
He thrusted his fingers in and out of you slightly curling them to hit that spot that makes you scream.
"Fuck— Right there Heeseung!" You moan out.
"Yeah? You like that baby?" He chuckled a little, and the smirk on his face grew.
He continued to move his fingers and started going even faster. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach start to tighten and you knew what was coming. "Heeseung.. Shit," he nodded slowly and spoke "Come on, cum on my fingers baby," his words made you clench around his fingers before you finally reached your limit with a moan loud enough you were sure the neighboring dorms could hear.
Both yours and his breathing were fast and heavy. He was still hovering above you while he looked at your face which was covered in a thin layer of sweat. "Can you take my cock, or are you completely spent?" He asked the question in a soft tone not wanting to hurt you or overwhelm you.
"I need your cock Heeseung," the softness in his eyes instantly left now replaced with a look of desire, and lust. "Then that's exactly what you're gonna get baby," he started removing his clothing starting with his shirt, then his belt, his pants, and finally his boxers.
When he took his boxers off you couldn't stop staring at his dick. The thick, long, veiny shaft was one you had missed in these past years. "I can see you staring my love," you couldn't even stop yourself and you just kept staring.
He gave himself a couple of pumps spreading the precum along his shaft. He then lined himself up with your entrance, he hesitated for a moment looking at you, "Do you want it rough, or slow?"
"Please give it to me rough," he didn't give you a second to think before he pushed inside of you quickly, and immediately bottomed out.
"Fuck!" You moaned out at the feeling of the stretch of your hole from his cock.
He grabbed your thighs tightly allowing him to thrust into you more efficiently. You felt him hit your G-spot every time he moved in and out. You felt your climax approaching and you bucked your hips as he groaned feeling you clench around him.
You finally went over the edge and came onto his cock, while you felt him release into you. His thrusts slowed to help you ride out your orgasm before he slowly pulled out, making you whine at the empty feeling.
He kissed your lips before lying down next to you. You turned to look at him and you stared into each other's eyes, a soft smile forming on his lips. "Goodnight my love, I missed you so much. I won't fuck this up."
You were going to respond but the exhaustion caught up to you and you fell asleep in his arms, for the first time in years as his girlfriend.
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TAGLIST : @clandestineself @kittympirty @azzy02 @wemalyri @jayhoonvroom @hwangswife4
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eternallyordinary · 13 hours ago
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“He Belongs to You” - Part 5
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hope you’re all enjoying the fic. this is my first one—i’ve been a longtime reader and finally decided to give writing a shot. just finished the boys, so you could say i’m a little obsessed right now.
i’d love to hear your thoughts, and if you enjoy it, reblogs mean the world to help more people find it. feel free to message me with any requests. xo
.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・..・゜゜・  ・゜゜・
Part 1<3
Part 2<3
Part 3<3
Part 4<3
Summary: After a whirlwind 24 hours, Homelander’s obsession with you only grows. What started as desire has become something darker, more dangerous. But when he realizes someone hurt you before, his need for control turns to vengeance—and whoever’s responsible won’t live to regret it.
Warnings: Possessiveness, power dynamics, strong language, mature content, smut, violence, sexual content, mentions of sexual assault/rape, foul language, murder, yandere (if i forgot any pls let me know <3)
The morning light filters through the window, casting a soft glow over the room. You stir slightly, still curled up in Homelander’s lap, his fingers lazily running through your hair. He hasn’t moved all night. Hasn’t slept. Not once.
He just watched over you. A silent guardian against a threat that doesn’t exist—at least, not in this moment. His body should be exhausted, but it isn’t. Just being near you keeps him alert, wired, as if you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.
A small yawn escapes your lips as you stretch, blinking up at him. “Good morning.”
His hand stills in your hair for a moment before resuming, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“Morning, doll,” he murmurs, voice low and rough. “Sleep well?”
You nod, sitting up and shifting in his lap until you’re straddling him, your legs curling around his waist. “I did. Did you even sleep?”
Homelander exhales, shaking his head. “No. I didn’t.” His grip on your hips tightens slightly. “I couldn’t. Just wanted to make sure you were safe.”
You smirk. “You know I’m a supe, right?”
It’s meant to be teasing, lighthearted. But the playful glint in his eyes fades almost instantly. His grip tightens—not enough to hurt, but enough to make a point.
“I know,” he mutters, voice dark. “But you’re not as strong as me. You’re not untouchable.” His jaw clenches. “I have enemies, and if they knew what you meant to me, they’d come for you. You think I’m gonna let that happen?”
You try to lighten the mood. “I mean… I do pilates.”
A short laugh escapes him, but his hands move up, cradling your face between his palms, forcing you to look at him. His amusement vanishes.
“I’m serious.”
Your expression softens as you study him. “Who wants to hurt you?” you ask. “Who would want to hurt me?”
His blue eyes darken, full of something unreadable. “Anyone who hates me,” he says simply. “And there’s a lot of them. They’d do anything to take me down—including hurting you. And I won’t let that happen.”
His grip is unrelenting, his words heavy with promise.
You don’t answer—not with words, anyway. Instead, you reach up, threading your fingers through his golden hair before leaning in, pressing your lips against his.
He responds instantly. There’s nothing soft about the way he kisses you, no hesitation. His hands slide up your back, pulling you tighter against him, like he can’t get you close enough.
But then you pull away, laughing breathlessly as you cover your mouth. “Ew—sorry. I should’ve brushed my teeth first.”
Homelander chuckles, the tension in his body easing. “Don’t worry about it, baby,” he says, voice low and teasing. “I don’t mind a little morning breath.”
Before you can protest, he reaches up, gently pulling your hand away from your mouth, his grip firm.
“And besides…” His eyes flicker with something dangerous. Something possessive. “I like it when you’re a mess.” He smirks. “Makes me want to ruin you even more.”
“Ruin me, huh?” Your voice is teasing, but there’s a nervous edge to it as you trace the rigid contours of his suit, your fingertip gliding over the perfectly etched lines of his abs.
Homelander’s eyes darken, his grip on your hips tightening. “I will ruin you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with possession. “But only for me. No one else will know how bad you are—just me.”
Your heart pounds against your ribs. Sometimes, being around him feels so natural, like you’ve known him forever. But then there are moments like this—moments where the weight of his intensity makes you hyperaware that your life is entirely in his hands.
His gaze locks onto yours. “There’s something else you need to know,” he says.
You swallow. “What?”
His expression sharpens, deadly serious. “I can’t think about you with other people. And I don’t want to. If I ever hear about you with someone else—before me—I’ll have to hurt them. Probably kill them.” His voice is disturbingly calm, like he’s stating a fact, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I don’t care if it was a fling. I don’t care if it was your first kiss back in grade school. There’s only before and after me now. Anyone who’s ever touched you will wish they hadn’t.”
Your breath catches. His jealousy is suffocating, terrifying—and yet, it sends a thrill down your spine.
“Well…” You hesitate, avoiding his piercing gaze. “You’re the only one who’s touched me.” You pause before correcting yourself, voice barely above a whisper. “Well… the only one I wanted to touch me.”
Homelander stiffens. His grip on you doesn’t falter, but something in his expression shifts. You regret speaking instantly.
Shit.
His blue eyes search yours, and without a word, he reaches up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is surprisingly gentle. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost reverent. “It’s like you knew to wait for me.”
But he doesn’t miss the distinction in your words. The only one you wanted to touch you.
Who the fuck touched you without permission?
Names. He needs names.
A muscle in his jaw twitches, his mind already conjuring a thousand different ways to make them suffer. To make sure they regret ever laying a hand on you. To make sure they never touch anyone again.
He imagines tearing them apart, one by one, making you watch as he erases them from existence. Their names. Their families. Their homes. Everything they’ve ever loved—gone.
The thought makes his whole body tense. He shifts, readjusting himself as the dark, possessive hunger coils inside him, tightening like a vice.
But he can sense it—you’re not ready to talk about it. Not yet.
That’s fine.
You’ll tell him when you’re ready.
And when you do, he’ll make sure you watch as he destroys them all.
A knock at the door shatters the moment.
“Come in,” Homelander says smoothly—like this is his apartment, like he’s the one in control here.
Your head snaps toward him. What the fuck? You barely have time to adjust, sitting in nothing but a tank top and panties, the thin fabric of your shirt doing nothing to hide the way your nipples peek through. The door swings open, and of course, it’s Ashley.
Your boss.
Not his. He’s his own boss, you’ve come to realize.
Ashley stops in her tracks, her brows shooting up as she takes in the scene. You. Straddling him. And he—looking smug, satisfied—makes no move to let you go. If anything, his grip tightens, holding you in place like he wants her to see this. Hell, maybe he hopes she takes a picture, sends it straight to the top brass at Vought. Let them all see who you belong to.
“Hi… you two…” Ashley starts, hesitantly. She clears her throat, eyes darting between you and Homelander before settling on you. “Access Hollywood wants to do a piece on your journey to the Seven. I know people your age don’t really watch it, but it’ll be good for pulling in ratings from the 35 to 50 demographic.”
Homelander bristles. “Why the fuck does she need to pull from that demographic, Ashley?” His mind immediately goes to older men. The ones who’d watch the segment. The ones who’d look at you. They’d be his age, sure—but it’s different with him. Any other man, twice your age, interested in you? Fucking perverts.
Ashley falters. “Just, uh… covering all of our bases, sir.”
The tension in the room is suffocating. You force a smile, desperate to salvage some semblance of professionalism after the chaos of the past twenty-four hours. You don’t let Homelander speak.
“Okay. Great. I’ll get ready now,” you say quickly, trying again to lift yourself off his lap.
His hands keep you locked in place.
Fine.
You shock him with your fingertips.
“Ow! Fuck,” he hisses, just enough of a sting to loosen his hold. You smirk, tossing a blanket around yourself as you slip off him and head toward the bathroom.
He watches you disappear behind the door. The second it clicks shut, he stands, towering over Ashley.
“Why the fuck are we worried about whether forty-year-old perverts are interested in her?” His voice is low, dangerous. “Who gives a shit about ratings? She’s not doing it.”
Before Ashley can respond, a new voice cuts in.
Sage.
Standing at the door, watching the whole damn thing. Apparently, everyone is making themselves at home in your apartment.
“He’s obsessed with her,” Sage says bluntly, arms crossed. “It’s not healthy how possessive he is.”
Homelander turns, mock surprise on his face. “Oh, hi, Sage. It’s me, Homelander. I’m right fucking here.”
Sage doesn’t blink. “Let’s talk about your ratings. They’re already dogshit. You think screwing a twenty-something-year-old with a baby face is gonna help?”
His smirk fades. She knows she’s hit a nerve.
“You think I care about ratings?” His voice is sharp, seething. “She gives me something I need. Something I’ve never had before.”
Sage scoffs. “What? A tight hole? Get a grip, Homelander. You brought me onto the Seven to help you. To guide you. This? This is a stupid fucking mistake.”
His jaw tightens. He doesn’t make mistakes.
“I don’t need you to tell me what is or isn’t a mistake,” he snaps. “You work for me, remember? I make the decisions here. Not you.”
“She’s young. She’s new. You’re putting a target on her back.”
Ashley. Finally speaking up.
He barely acknowledges her, but she pushes forward.
“You have to see how reckless this is. It’s dangerous for both of you.”
Homelander clenches his fists. “I know the risks,” he grits out. “But I can protect her better than anyone. I won’t let anything happen to her.”
Ashley sighs, rubbing her temples. “By not sleeping? You look like you didn’t sleep at all last night.”
His eyes darken. “I don’t need sleep.”
“You do.”
Homelander stares at her. The audacity—speaking to him like this. But there’s no malice in her voice, just exhaustion.
“People will notice,” she continues, her voice softer now. “Just… please. Get it together.”
The room is silent.
Finally, he exhales sharply.
“Fine,” he mutters. “I’ll try to sleep.” A pause. “But I’m not letting her out of my sight.”
Sage and Ashley exchange a look—two women always at odds, finally agreeing on something.
Neither of them speak as they turn and leave, shutting the door behind them.
Homelander lowers himself onto the couch, his mind still tangled in the conversation with Ashley and Sage. Their words should mean nothing to him. But they linger.
The sound of the shower running pulls his attention away. His thoughts shift instantly—away from strategy, away from arguments—to you. Naked. Wet. Warm water cascading down your body.
His pulse quickens.
He stands. Walks toward the bathroom. His hand hovers over the handle, hesitating for only a second before pushing the door open.
Steam greets him, curling around his body as he steps inside. The air is thick with heat, fogging the mirror and the glass of the shower. But he can still see you—your silhouette blurred, water glistening on your skin.
His breath catches.
Slowly, he sheds his suit, letting the fabric fall in a careless pile on the floor. He moves toward the glass, watching you, savoring the sight. Then, without a word, he pulls the door open and steps inside.
You gasp, your arms moving instinctively to cover yourself.
He chuckles, amused. His eyes darken, his lips twitching into a smirk.
“Don’t hide from me, baby,” he murmurs, voice rough, thick with something dangerous. “I want to see all of you.”
His hands are on your wrists before you can react, pulling them away, pinning them above your head. The warmth of the water does nothing to cool the fire in his touch. He leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss—slow at first, then deeper, his tongue pressing into your mouth, claiming every inch like it belongs to him.
A soft moan escapes against his lips, and it undoes him.
Something dark, something primal stirs inside him—something he’s barely been holding back.
His grip tightens in your hair, fingers tangling at the nape of your neck as he tugs, tilting your head back. Forcing you to meet his gaze.
Blue eyes, sharp and predatory, lock onto yours. His chest rises and falls, his breath ragged. He drinks in the sight of you, wet and vulnerable beneath him, completely at his mercy.
And god, he likes it. He was ready to fuck you, to devour you. He puts his cock against your clit, rubbing small circles with his tip. He feels the way your body tenses beneath him, the shift so subtle yet impossible to ignore.
And then your words echo in his mind— You’re the only one who’s touched me.
Something dark in him—something selfish, something monstrous—wants to take, to claim, to make you his without hesitation. To ask for forgiveness later, not permission now.
But the part of him that needs you, that aches for you in ways he doesn’t fully understand, knows better.
You deserve more than that. More than him at his worst.
Your first time should be something close to heaven.
And for you, he chooses restraint. He exhales sharply, jaw tight as he pulls back, shifting himself away from your center. The need inside him rages, demanding more, but he won’t let it win.
Not with you.
You exhale, your breath finally steadying—but the moment you do, his voice cuts through the steam, firm and commanding.
“Lay down.”
He doesn’t reach for the faucet, doesn’t bother turning the water off. The warm stream continues cascading over both of you, soaking his hair until strands cling to his face, his eyes dark beneath them.
He watches you, unblinking, unmoving—his presence overwhelming in the small space.
Slowly, you lower yourself, your back meeting the wet tile, your hair fanning out around you, heavy with water.
His eyes drink you in, his voice thick with possession as he commands, “Open your legs for Daddy.”
He lowers himself onto his knees, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. He studies you like a masterpiece—something rare, something fragile, something that belongs to him. He gently opens up your pussy with his fingers, slowly massaging the hood of your tiny clit.
You moan without restraint, your body reacting instinctively, back arching in ways you never thought possible. He continues to rub your clit, then he sticks a finger in.
Then 2.
Then 3.
Each thrust is slow and deliberate, a silent reminder that every part of you belongs to him. Then, with effortless strength, he lifts your legs, draping them over his shoulders, your head tilting back as pleasure overtakes you.
He aggressively kisses and sucks your clit. He’s like a rabid animal—hungry, insatiable. If he could devour you completely, he would.
He continues to suck your clit, feeling it harden. He begins to stroke his cock with purpose. Effortlessly, he uses one hand to keep you upright, his grip firm yet controlled, as if you weigh nothing at all.
“Please don’t stop, baby, please,” you beg, your voice trembling with desperation.
Homelander’s grip tightens as he looms over you, his eyes dark with possession.
“Tell me who you belong to,” he commands, his voice low and unwavering.
“You—I—I belong to you!” you cry out, your body trembling as you surrender completely to him.
Suddenly, your body tenses, a wave of pleasure crashing over you as you reach your peak. A rush of warmth spills into his mouth, and Homelander doesn’t hesitate—his lips part, tongue hanging out, greedily lapping up every drop like a man starved, as if he’s been waiting his whole life just for this. He strokes his cock with more determination—he releases a low growl and lets his cum paint your backside.
Both of you exhale. He gently releases your legs from his neck. Keeping your legs spread, he uses his cum as a lubricant to rub your clit even more.
“One day, this will be inside of you. You’re going to be such a good mommy,” he whispers, his voice dark with promise.
Your breath hitches as you sit up, hands finding their way to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. His fingers continue their slow, deliberate movements, drawing another soft whimper from your lips. Foreheads pressed together, your breaths mix, shaky and uneven.
You come undone once more, trembling in his grasp.
“Good girl,” he murmurs against your lips, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “That’s it. Always so good for me, you know that?”
His mouth finds yours again, kissing you deeply before pulling back, allowing you a moment to breathe.
The two of you sit there on the shower floor, water cascading over your tangled bodies, the heat between you rivaling the steam filling the space. Neither of you speak, just taking a moment to absorb the weight of what just happened.
“That was…” you murmur, still breathless.
Homelander presses a kiss to your forehead, his grip on you possessive yet tender. “Come on,” he says, voice softer than usual. “You have to get ready.”
You blink up at him, confusion flickering across your face. Just a moment ago, he was adamant about you not doing the interview. What changed?
As the two of you stand, rinsing off the remnants of heat and indulgence, you finally ask, “What did they want earlier?”
Homelander doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulls you against him, his grip firm, his lips crashing into yours like he needs to make a point. His kiss is deep, hungry—like he’s claiming you all over again. His hands find your wrists, pinning them against his chest as he devours you, breathing you in like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.
When he finally pulls away, his expression is unreadable, torn between frustration and something far more dangerous.
“Ashley and Sage,” he mutters, jaw tight. “Being nosy. They think I’m too obsessed with you. That I’m making a mistake.”
You smirk against his lips, tilting your head as you press another slow, teasing kiss to his mouth, letting your tongue flick against his.
“You are obsessed with me,” you whisper, your words a challenge.
Homelander growls low in his throat as you tease his lips, his grip tightening on your hips. You’re right—he is obsessed with you. Entirely. Uncontrollably.
He pulls you flush against him, pressing his body into yours like he needs to mold himself to you, like he wants to brand his presence onto your skin. His hands roam with purpose, tracing every curve, memorizing every inch.
“I am obsessed with you,” he finally admits, voice thick with an emotion he barely understands. “And it scares the hell out of me how much I need you.”
You tilt your head, your gaze steady. Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you.
His grip loosens slightly, his expression shifting—not soft, but vulnerable, if only for a moment.
“I know,” he mutters, almost like he’s reassuring himself. “That’s what scares me. I don’t… I don’t need people. I never have. But you?” His fingers flex against your skin. “You’re different.”
You smirk, your playful nature creeping back in. “You know that’s normal, right? Well… maybe not this,” You gesture between your bodies, naked and pressed together after barely a day of knowing each other. “Never mind.” You giggle.
Homelander chuckles, shaking his head, his grip steadying you against him. “No, doll, this isn’t normal,” he agrees, smirking as he brushes wet strands of hair from your face. “But I’ve never liked normal anyway.”
He kisses you again before turning you around, his hands threading through your hair as he massages shampoo into your scalp. His touch is slow, deliberate, almost too gentle for him. He works through your hair with a care that’s foreign to him, his hands sliding down to knead your shoulders, rubbing away whatever tension lingers.
You let out a sigh, tilting your head forward. That feels so good, you murmur.
Homelander hums in satisfaction, fingers kneading deeper. “You have no idea how good it feels to touch you like this,” he mutters, his voice dipping lower. “To have you completely at my mercy.”
You glance back at him, studying his face through the steam.
“You like knowing you can hurt me, that you can end me… don’t you?” You ask. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”
His hands still for a fraction of a second. He absorbs your words, his jaw clenching, his blue eyes darkening with something unreadable.
He doesn’t deny it.
“Yeah,” he finally murmurs, his voice rough. “I do.” His fingers brush down your spine, barely touching. “I like knowing I could crush you if I wanted to. That I have all the power.” He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “But I don’t want to hurt you. I want to protect you.”
Homelander kisses you again, slow and deep, but his mind is already elsewhere. Somewhere darker.
Your words haven’t left him. They won’t. They cling to his brain like a parasite, infecting every thought, twisting his stomach into knots of rage he hasn’t felt in a long time.
“You’re the only one who’s touched me. Well… the only one I wanted to touch me.”
His fingers twitch against your skin, his muscles tightening as he fights the urge to demand their names right now. He pictures them—whoever they are—small, pathetic, unworthy. He doesn’t need details. He doesn’t need a reason.
He just needs to hear you say the words.
Tell him who they are.
Tell him where they live.
Tell him how they did it.
And he’ll take care of the rest.
He imagines their faces caving under his fists, teeth splintering like cheap glass, their pitiful screams cutting off with the wet, sickening squelch of his fingers ripping their tongues straight from their throats. He’ll tear them open, gut them like livestock, string them up in a place only he can see so he can admire his handiwork when he’s feeling nostalgic. Maybe he’ll fly them so high the oxygen thins before dropping them—make them fall for miles, long enough to know exactly when they’re about to hit the ground, long enough to understand they’re about to die before their bodies splatter like meat against pavement.
It’s what they deserve. It’s the bare fucking minimum.
But not yet.
Not yet.
He needs to be patient. For you.
So instead of demanding answers, instead of forcing them from your lips, he just pulls you closer, pressing another soft kiss to your jaw. You don’t notice the way his fingers dig into your skin a little harder, or how his breath turns just a little more ragged. You don’t see the violent, vicious promise buried deep in his eyes as he whispers against your skin.
“One day, baby… you’re gonna tell me who they are.”
You swallow hard.
They.
You thought he forgot.
Oh, silly girl. A man like him? He doesn’t miss anything.
Homelander watches your reaction, soaking in every twitch, every breath, every slight shift in your expression. His grip on your waist tightens just enough to remind you—he’s still in control. He always will be.
His smile lingers, slow and knowing, a predator savoring the scent of fresh blood.
“I see that look, baby,” he murmurs, his voice smooth but laced with something sharper, something hungry. His fingers slide up your spine, his nails ghosting over your skin like a warning. “You didn’t really think I’d let that slide, did you?”
You don’t answer. You can’t.
Your heartbeat pounds so loudly in your ears it nearly drowns out his voice, but he hears it. Of course, he does.
He likes it.
Loves it.
Because it tells him everything he needs to know.
“Mmm.” He hums, leaning in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his breath warm against your damp skin. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”
His tone is soft, almost gentle, but it carries the weight of something final. A promise. A death sentence.
“I’ll take care of it.”
His lips curl, pressing a lingering kiss just below your ear as he breathes in deep—like he’s inhaling your fear, drinking it in, letting it settle deep in his lungs.
He smiles, a slow, dangerous thing.
Homelander lets the words hang in the air, heavy and absolute.
“And believe me… once I’m finished with them? They’ll beg for death.”
He says it so casually, like he’s talking about the weather. But there’s something in his voice—glee. The kind of twisted, unhinged satisfaction that sends a chill down your spine.
Your stomach knots. You should stop him. You should say something. But the way he’s looking at you? That wild, feverish glint in his eye?
It’s too late.
His mind is already painting the scene—rivers of blood, splintered bone, screams so raw they tear through vocal cords. He wants them to suffer. He wants them to hurt. To feel every ounce of pain they inflicted on you a thousand times over.
And when they’re on their knees, their bodies broken beyond repair, gasping through bloodied lips for mercy?
There won’t be any.
“I’ll make sure they remember your name,” he purrs, dragging a thumb over your bottom lip. “Right before I carve it into their fucking skulls.”
You swallow hard, your breath shaky.
He smiles. Oh, he loves this. Loves the way you react, loves the fear, the hesitation—because it confirms what he already knows.
They’re dead.
They just don’t know it yet.
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vandme12 · 3 days ago
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heyy! i love your writing!! how about headcanons about the reader Ronin trying to make him jealous on purpose? like, the reader talking to and spending time with some other guy more than with Ronin. hope this makes sense! ❤️
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Ronin Beaufort isn’t the jealous type—jealousy is for people who lose, and he doesn’t lose. If you think flirting with some other guy will rattle him, you’re adorable. He’ll watch you play your little game, leaning back like a king on a cracked throne, waiting for you to crawl home. And you will crawl home.
He makes a show of it. Mock-pouting, hand over his heart like you’ve wounded him. "Damn, babe, didn’t know I was on a break. You auditioning replacements, or just tryna make me work harder?" His words drip sweet, all honey and venom—but underneath? He’s laughing at you. Sweetheart, there’s no other option. It’s always gonna be him.
If you’re hell-bent on pushing his buttons, he’ll let you—but don’t expect to get away clean. He’ll play it cool, act unfazed, and then? Oh, he’ll take you apart later. Slowly. With his hands. With his mouth. Until you forget what other people’s names even sound like.
. You spend too much time around another guy? Cute. Ronin’s first move isn’t jealousy—it’s possession. He’ll drape himself over you like a leather jacket no one else is allowed to touch. Casual as a knife to the throat. "Miss me yet, or should I leave you two lovebirds to it?"
He never says, Don’t touch what’s mine. No. That’s too easy. Instead? He gets creative. Whispered secrets in your ear just loud enough for your little “friend” to hear. A sharp-toothed grin when he pulls you into his lap mid-conversation. He doesn’t need to say he owns you—he makes it obvious.
You want to make him sweat? Good luck, baby. He’ll turn it back on you without missing a beat. Flirt with someone else, and he’s suddenly the sweetest, most devoted boyfriend in the world—to someone else. He doesn’t play fair, and if you want war, he’s more than happy to escalate.
In private, though? Different story. If you push too far, too long—oh, sweetheart. You’ll feel it. All that mock-jealousy turns sharp-edged when no one else is looking. His teeth on your skin, his voice in your ear. "Wanted my attention so bad, huh? Got it now, Darlin."
Don’t mistake his calm for indifference. If he’s quiet? If he stops playing? You’re in trouble. Real, delicious trouble. It means he’s thinking. About how to remind you exactly who you belong to—and Ronin never does anything halfway.
He’s a menace. If you ignore him for someone else, he’ll find ways to make sure you can’t stop thinking about him. Sending you a bloody smiley face mid-conversation. Texting you, “What’s he got that I don’t? (Besides a pulse)”—just to watch you react <33
At the end of the day? He isn’t worried. Why would he be? He’s already under your skin. You could talk to anyone you want—you’ll still dream of him. And when you finally come back? He’s there. Waiting. Smirking. Ready to ruin you all over again.
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halfelven · 2 years ago
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for someone who was all ‘oh the catholic church is literally in league with the devil and will bring about the antichrist onto humanity’ my father sure managed to drag in a lot of catholic guilt
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touyasdollmain · 2 years ago
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disassociation is the biggest fucking bitch.
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madamechrissy · 2 months ago
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Well, are you mine?
Pairings: Sukuna x fem reader
Summary- You're Yuuji Itadori's best friend since forever, and his older brother Sukuna is a grade A ass to you. After a nasty breakup with your ex, you text Yuuji who's out for the night, he gives you the go ahead to stay at his place. But it's only Sukuna there, and he is oddly comforting? You've had it bad for him forever, but little do you know, so has he, even if he doesn't show it, because Sukuna thinks Yuuji loves you (ahem, he's WAY wrong) Porn w/feelings, best friend's brother trope, Duo POVS
CW- Modern Sukuna, he's a gamer and tsundere af lol, this is SMUTTY asf, loss of virginity (don't mention much abt it aside from reader is one) Sukuna is ROUGH lol, oral sex (m and f recieving) overstimulation, dirty talk, Sukuna calls reader brat and slutty, lowkey breed kink, possessiveness, marathon sex lol. Sukuna is BAD AT FEELINGS lmaooo, but he whimpers? Reader- 20, Sukuna 25- 6.4k WC!
Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one!
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You’re walking out in that pathetic excuse for a tank top and the most revealing shorts that morning when Sukuna sees you, peeking up from his monitor, proceeding to get sniped like some damn noob when he sees your nipples perk up through the material. He curses loudly, slamming off his headset then, you look at him in surprise, lips parted just so.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, he glares at you then, standing up as he takes you in, irritated you have such an effect.
“What are you doing here? Yuuji isn’t even home until tonight.” He says with a glare, ruby eyes glinting, you tense just a bit, Sukuna is tall and intimidating, and constantly an asshole.
“He said it was fine, here’s the text.” You swipe up on your phone, he snorts as he looks at it.
“You have a teddy bear case? Stupid.” Your eyes narrow in irritation when he picks up the phone, scoffing as he sees the texts. “God. What a simp you’re making him.”
“What now? Am not even! He’s my best friend, not that you’d understand, you don’t even have any. You’re such an ass.” You snatch your phone back from him, earning his scowl.
“You’re an annoying brat, y’know that? If Yuuji didn’t simp so badly I wouldn’t have to deal with you.”
“Whatever! Ugh.”
“Why’d you need to come here anyway? Boyfriend piss you off?” You sigh, crossing your arms, just pressing your breasts up more for his view.
“He cheated on me.” Sukuna pauses then, hearing the hurt in your voice, seeing it on your pretty face, annoyingly pretty face.
“Shit.” Is all he manages, and you sigh, looking at him then, emotions in the back of your throat.
“That was mean of me to say, that you have no friends. I know you do… I’m sorry I said it.” His mouth opens, then closes, his brows lowering.
“You’re always bitchy to me, it doesn’t surprise me.”
“And you’re always an ass to me.”
“Tch, I’m not gonna fawn over you like your little best friend does, if that’s what you mean.”
“No, every time I stay or hang out you tell me you can’t wait for me to leave, or are just mean as shit.” Sukuna rolls his eyes, looking up at the ceiling then, it’s true he is mean to you constantly.
Every time you stay, he’s picking on you or making snide remarks, to the point he’s made you cry sometimes, and then felt like shit. Nothing was worse than seeing you cry, but he didn’t know what else to do, because you’re haunting his every dream, even last night he was stroking his cock to a stupid Instagram picture of you.
The thing is, Sukuna wants you, and wants you badly, so much it makes him pathetic, his little brother’s best friend, who Sukuna knows has had some stupid crush on since forever. Sukuna’s only five years older than you, but twenty just seems too young, you seem too inexperienced, too innocent and sweet, the last thing you needed was him around you.
And he knew you had some little crush on him, most of knowing him, you used to literally make doe eyes at him, he found it sort of cute at first, but now you’re a whole woman, walking around in nothing half the time. He was happy you got a boyfriend, despite the odd clench in his chest from hearing it, only because he wouldn’t have to see you as much.
So, the best course of action?
Make you hate him, and he thinks it’s worked, you don’t make doe eyes, you’re not fawning over him, or pathetically trying to flirt. No, you’re just as mean to him as he is to you now, god and you scowling and flipping him off? That turns him on more than fucking anything, unfortunately.
“Fuck him.” Sukuna says, and you’re shocked for a moment, as you stare up at the guy you’ve had it bad for since you can remember, Yuuji’s older brother, you thought he was so cool, you were always coming over more and more to see him.
Yuuji was the best friend in the world, so it wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy hanging out with him, it’s just your mind kept wandering, Sukuna was always a grump, but something shifted in the past couple of years, especially this year. He was downright mean and nasty to you, making jokes, pinching on you, ruffling your hair, rolling his eyes whenever you were near.
If his goal was to make you hate him, you don't, you just really can't stand him. Can't stand seeing him shirtless seeing the tattoos around his biceps, down his strong chest, hate seeing his stupid abs that have abs!?! Why does he have to be such an attractive ass, you don't know, but your crush hasn't gone away.
It's worse.
Last night you'd seen Sukuna was here when you'd used the key Yuuji let you have, he was crashed out on the couch sprawled out, movie ended, you'd covered him with a blanket and given him a pillow. In his sleep he almost looked sweet, you thought, having slept in the guest room, he'd swirled in your mind, your boyfriend having cheated hurt, but thankfully you hadn't taken that step with him…
No, you stupidly still wanted Sukuna as your first.
As if that would happen, he hates you so much clearly, and you have seen the girls he brought over, older and more experienced, more confident and worldly. You weren't there yet, especially when the man you're wanting doesn't see you as anything but a little brat.
“Sukuna, are you comforting me?” Sukuna scoffs.
“Of course I'm not, but also… he's a fucking idiot. You don't deserve someone who does that shit.” You blink back tears then, stepping to him, hugging him.
Sukuna freezes, as he inhales that scent, something floral and irritatingly delicious, your soft breasts pressing against his chest, your nipples taut under the tank top. You're tiptoeing, holding him around his chest, he grimaces, wanting to pick you up and drag you to his room, but he shoves at you.
“Annoying brat, off me god.” You shake your head, snuggling closer, when he realizes you're crying. It annoys him how you wrench his heart when you look up, tears falling out of your stupidly pretty eyes.
Did you have to affect him this way?
“Thank you, Kuna.”
“Don't call me that, ugh.” He places his huge hands at your waist to shove you off, but you gasp at it, taking over your waist, burning your skin then. He falters, his breath coming faster as he holds you there, just a little off of him, eyes going to your lips, tempting him to no end. “Stupid nickname.” He grumbles.
“I… you used to not mind it. What happened to make you hate me so much?” You whisper, hands slipping up his chest, so much revealed in the soft white shirt he's wearing, you feel his heart thudding under your hand.
“Don't hate you, just you're annoying.”
“How?”
“Just being here.”
“So I annoy you just existing?”
“Yes.” He speaks through clenched teeth, when you lean back, and he views your body. “Why do you fucking dress like that!?”
“It's comfy. What do you care, Kuna?”
“Stop it with the stupid nickname. Your… your body annoys me.” He is whispering now, hands slipping down your hips, you let this little sound out from the back of your throat that destroys him then.
“My body, what not your type? Don't wanna see it?”
“You're so fucking stupid.”
“How can a body piss you off? Ah!” Sukuna had you picked up now right on the kitchen counter, your breaths come in pants at getting handled like this, his big hands on your thighs, his eyes boring into you.
“All I can think about is all the ways I wanna fucking ruin you for any stupid boy you'll ever meet.” Your heart thuds in your chest, blinking rapidly as if you're in a fucking dream.
“Wh-what?” He moans softly, rough pads of his fingers slipping up your thighs, watching the goosebumps rise everywhere.
“Thinking how good your little pussy tastes, how pretty your tits must be, how your face would look fucked out.” You're moaning out loud when he finds you then, lips hovering just an inch from yours, he moans when he finds your slick cunt dripping, he laughs then, softly. “That wet for me? Haven't even done shit.”
“Shut up and touch me, please, Sukuna.” The way that his name sounds from your lips? Your eyes dilating? Your wet cunt on his fingers? His cock starts throbbing from touching you, watching your face when he shoves a finger in your hole, you grip him like a vise.
“Anyone ever made you cum? Any of your dumb boys?” You grip his wrist when his fingers curl in your gummy walls, finding that spot instantly and pressing on it, making you gasp as you gush down his fingers. “Fuck you're wet, why are you so stupid tight, fuckin feel you…”
“Don't know… I… Kuna, m’a v-virgin, ngh!” He yanks away then, panic on his face. “Don't stop, please.”
“A virgin, how the fuck?” You whine out as he backs off, sucking you off his fingers, his cheeks moaning, those crimson eyes dilated, the hottest thing you have ever seen. “Why do you taste so good? God I can’t stand you.”
“Kuna, please… just…”
“No, I won’t do that, I sure the fuck won’t take that. How are you even…”
“I’ve been waiting.” You murmur, earning his brows raised, barring you on either side with his strong arms, leaning close.
“You what now?”
“For you, stupid.” Sukuna cups your face with one hand, hot as your overheated cheek, so close your breaths mingle.
“No way, I’m not doing that, it’s bad enough I even touched you, now you’ll be all I can think about, annoying little brat ruining me.” His words hit, your pussy throbbing around nothing then, you lean your head and kiss his palm, melting him as you do. “Don’t do shit like that.”
“Do you want me?” You ask, thighs on either side of him.
“What do you think?” He grabs your hips, and you feel him, huge and hard against you over the fabric of his pants and your shorts, he grabs you tight, you’re looking at those lips, usually in a smirk or a sarcastic grin, so pouty right now, begging for your kisses.
“Doesn’t have to be anything serious-”
“How can you say that? No, it would be.” You would end him the moment he got inside you, he already knows it, tasting your sweet arousal on his tongue, looking at the color your cheeks are tinged, imagining your face as his cock leaks precum against his boxers.
“I can be… casual…” You’re grinding on him, you’ve never felt this, the longing for him in this way, you’re jutting your chin up, trying to kiss him, but he pulls his face away, shaking his head. “Kiss me.”
“No way.” He won’t be able to stop, at least at this point he can rip himself off of you, taking several breaths, turning away from how delectable you look sitting with your thighs spread on his counter.
“I’ve seen all the women you bring over the years, why not me? You clearly are casual about it?” You hate the emotions in your throat. “Am I not…”
“If you say some dumb shit like you’re not attractive, I swear you’ll piss me off. Look at you.”
“You won’t look at me.”
“I can’t right now, I won’t just fuck you, especially your… first I… can’t. Just drop it, just forget it even happened.” You jump off the counter then, breathing fast, heart nearly pounding out of your chest.
“I’m sorry I asked.” He curses as you run off to the room, his head is spinning from your scent, your taste, the images now burned in his brain, your slick still on his fingertips.
He could never just take your virginity, what if he hurt you? What if he hurt you emotionally, he sure his entire life has never had a real girlfriend, he’s had hookups and booty calls, that’s it. And for the past year he’s pictured you half the time when he’s played with himself, when he’s slept with them, but he can’t do that, you deserved better than him surely.
You’re all dressed now, you stand there and look at him, he hates the tears that have streaked down your face, your bag on your shoulder. “You don’t have to leave, just leave me alone.” He says then, and you laugh without humor, shaking your head.
“I can’t face you after that, too embarrassing. Don’t even tell Yuuji I came over, please.” You go to leave and Sukuna stops you, a hand on the knob above you, his hard body towering behind you, you feel so small next to him, god who didn’t?
Sukuna runs his fingers down your spine, you shiver from the sensation, he leans close, his lips against your ear. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”
“No?” You look at him then, noses touching, so close.
“Everyone wants me, it’s fine brat.” He smirks, you glare then, smacking at his hand on the knob and pulling open the door.
“Fuck you, Sukuna.” You say, he grins at you like the asshole he is, but when you shut the door behind you, you don’t see him cursing himself, forehead resting on the door, his stomach sick.
Why’d he do that?
Why couldn’t he just give you what you wanted, what he wants so badly?
He’s terrified to disappoint you, but he already has.
*****
Two Weeks Later
“Please stay for dinner!? Please, please, please!” Yuuji begs you, literally on his hands and knees bowing, you giggle, shaking your head.
“No, I can’t… your brother-”
“He won’t bother you, he just yells at the game, it’s fine! Never used to bother you, and I miss you.” He looks up with sweet honey eyes, making you sigh then, nodding, he jumps up all excited. “Perfect, I need to show you the recipe my brother Cho showed me!”
“How is he? I miss him.” You say softly, Yuji’s other brother lived far away now, he was a sweetheart, much unlike Sukuna.
“He’s doing so well, his band is so popular now. I’ll tell him you said hi! You know he thought you were so pretty.”
“Cho did? No way.”
“Well who doesn’t, even Sukuna does.” You pause then, faltering as you look at the kitchen, where he’d had a long, thick finger inserted in your little hole. Where he’d tasted you.
“Um, I doubt all that. He hates me.” Yuuji shakes his head, checking his phone then. “Your girl?”
“We’re not dating yet, just talking, but we are going to a movie tonight. You know her, yeah?”
“Yes, she was so sweet in school.”
Sukuna walks in as Yuuji shows you their texts, his eyes darting to you, taking in your little pleated skirt and top with some dumb anime character you liked on it, you looked fucking adorable. So cute he hates it, so he scowls at you, earning your scowl right back, as Yuuji looks between you both.
“Woah, calm down. Sukuna, I have a date!” Sukuna’s heart drops, Yuuji surely would be good enough for you, he’s sweet (annoyingly sweet) and devoted. Choso and Yuuji were sweet, he’s not sure how he got all the asshole of the family, but he supposed it came from taking care of them both, being the oldest.
He should be a little relieved, you’d leave him alone now, right? You wouldn’t give him that look, he would finally know you’re untouchable, he clears his throat now, hating that his heart feels like it’s ripped in half. Just two weeks ago, the last time he saw you, he’d felt your heat, he’d had you begging for him, but he turned you down.
He did this.
“Finally, you two are going on a date, huh?” He says, trying to act casual, and Yuuji snorts, shaking his head, as your eyes go wide.
“Us, no! We’re too close, we’d never ruin our friendship. Though I sure asked her out a lot in school.”
“You tried.” You say with a little smile, as Sukuna stands there dumbfounded. “You’d never have liked dating me, I hate your zombie movies too much.”
“You have the worst taste, it’s true. Now, Sukuna, it's this girl…” Yuuji starts going on, and Sukuna can barely hold his composure, as he shows him a picture of her, as he’s rambling.
He was convinced his brother was in love with you, it’s a huge reason he has pushed you so far away, he’d never dishonor him like that, even if he knew you didn’t feel the same. He struggles to focus now, as you look down nervously, as if you could hear his thoughts, feel what he wants so badly.
“Thought you simped for the brat here.” He says, Yuuji laughs.
“No, she’s just a beautiful best friend.” He kisses your cheek and you smile warmly at him, it lights up your face, doing the annoying thing to his heart again. “If you’re not so mean, maybe she’ll stay for dinner.”
“Me, mean? Never.” You and Yuuji both roll your eyes at him.
“I don’t have to stay, Sukuna, I was just stopping by.” Your words break him down, remembering how mean he was, and he didn’t apologize, why should he though?
He should have said something.
You’re feeling his gaze on you, as he runs a hand through his pastel locks, the same shade as Yuuji but his are longer, messier, he has a little stubble on his cheeks you don’t remember seeing. As you further look, you see the dark circles under his eyes, how tense he is when he opens his mouth, just to close it, and re open it again, as if he doesn’t know what to say.
Sukuna is… on edge?
“You can stay, what do I care? Used to your ass around anyway.” He walks to his room then, and Yuuji excitedly talks to you, but your mind is in that room, with that asshole of a man.
The dinner is awkward as fuck, and when Yuuji leaves to get ready for his date, you hastily start washing your dish, you feel his gaze on you, he’s leaned back in the chair with his legs wide. You don’t dare say a word to him, you’re too mortified still, too confused, his one touch with no kiss has done more than anything you’ve experienced so far.
Awakened shit that was already there.
Made it worse.
“So you two never…” Sukuna trails off, leaving the question open, you look back at him as you dry your hand with a dish towel.
“Never what, dated? Of course not.”
“I thought the kid had it bad for you.” His voice is quiet, you clear your throat, shaking your head then.
“No, I tried to tell you, just friends. Yuuji is sweet and I love him, but I’ve never felt that way… like I…” Like with Sukuna. “Yeah, anyway, the girl is so sweet. I’ll head out when he does, don’t worry.”
Sukuna’s standing next to you before you can blink, he’s wearing this black dress shirt unbuttoned just so, revealing too much of his strong chest, pecs that are ridiculous, your eyes keep darting to it. To those collar bones, the black lines running along, making you wonder just where his tattoos stop, you physically back up, looking away then, unable to even look in his eyes.
“Running away, brat? Scared?” He raises a brow, you blink then, shaking your head. “Yeah you are.”
“Scared of what?”
“I’m ready guys! Oh… are you two gonna… hang out?” Yuuji asks with a little smile, you’re blushing then, shaking your head.
“Hang out with him? What, no.” Sukuna’s jaw clenches now, you smile as you feel how mad he is. “What?”
“What’s so wrong with me?”
“You’re an ass.”
“You’re a-”
“Okay, dumb question, don’t kill each other.” Yuuji does a little spin then, showing off his outfit, you giggle. “How do I look?”
“Amazing!” He kisses your cheek and hugs you then, just the sight of that alone has Sukuna infuriated, imagining kissing you.
What do your lips feel like?
Would they end him?
“She’s staying, she’s gonna… game with me.” Sukuna says then, you and Yuuji both look at him with shock. “Yeah, brat wants some lessons on Call of Duty.”
“Lessons? You game?” You want to burst out in laughter, the only video games you play involve very hot men on your phone.
Sukuna eyes you though, so intense it’s hard to breathe, you smile then, a little shy almost, realizing what he wants even though he’s not saying it. He wants to spend time with you, this shithead, this asshole of a man, he’s… he’s trying to express that he wants you to stay. And, to stay alone with him.
“I do wanna learn though, plus we should try to get along, hmm?” You look right at Sukuna, he’s not smirking or grinning, he’s vulnerable for a moment. His full lips parted just so in surprise.
“This makes me so happy. I love you both so much! If he pisses you off too bad, just text me.”
“What would you do, kid?” He demands.
“I’d… well I’d tell you to be nice.”
“I love you too.” You tell Yuuji then, and he runs off now to his date, leaving you alone in the kitchen again, with Sukuna. “Video games, huh?”
“Video games.” He answers, and before you know it, he’s right in front of you, gently holding you by your face, in a sweet manner you’d never think he could. “I want you, fuck I’ve wanted you for a long time now… but I thought you…” He’s trailing off, words escaping him.
“You thought Yuuji loved me, and you couldn’t do that.” You answer, everything starting to click now.
“That and you irritate the shit out of me. I don’t like what I feel.”
“What do you feel, Sukuna?” You step forward, arms wrapping around his thick waist then, he gulps visibly.
“Too much.” Is all he says, eyeing your lips hungrily.
“Maybe I feel too much. It’s scary, yeah?”
“I’m not scared of shit.” He’s leaning closer, you’re aching for him to just kiss you, licking your lower lip, tantalizing him as it turns glossy.
“If you’re not scared, then why are you so afraid to kiss me?” You whisper the words, his eyes flutter shut, a hand gripping your hair then at the nape of the neck, pulling it just so.
“Because I won’t stop there, I won’t stop till I’ve kissed every part of your body, till I’ve licked every part, until you’re cumming all over me.” Your little whimper from the back of your throat ruins him, he slams his lips down then, and it’s over.
Your kiss is messy, it’s desperate and sloppy, your tongues dripping saliva as he lifts you suddenly, you cling to him, thighs squeezing narrow hips, arms around his neck, your hand drifts through his undercut just so. He’s moaning as he kisses you so brutally, carrying you until you’re against a wall, pressing you there, you gasp for a breath while he starts licking down your throat.
“Kuna…” You’re arching against him, clinging tightly as he bites your throat, his big hands gripping your ass and squeezing.
“Hate that nickname. Hate how much I like it. Fuck you.”
You scowl, pulling away. “Fuck me for what?”
“Being so stupidly pretty. Driving me crazy forever. Fuck you for tasting so good, too.” You’re opening your mouth to protest, but he’s already carrying you to his bed, unceremoniously plopping you down on it, yanking off your top then, your breasts heave as your breaths come quickly, and he eyes you. “Fuck you for perfect tits.”
“Fuck you for being a dick.” You counter, but he’s gripping your breasts in his huge hands, squeezing them, sucking on your nipples, your hands enwrap in his pastel locks as he looks up at you, saliva strings dripping from your breasts. “Fuck that… feels s’good…”
“Fuck your sexy little moans, too.” You can’t be mad, not when he’s got your skirt off you, not when he’s ripping your panties to shreds, not when he eyes your pussy hungrily, shaking his head as he nips your inner thigh. “And fuck if you don’t have the most perfect pussy, what the…”
“Kuna, you’re c-crazy.” You whisper, he laughs then, breath tickling your cunt as he parts your plump lips, inhaling you like some psycho, burying his face. “Kuna!”
“Shut up, brat. Gonna ruin you for anyone.” He’s talking to your pussy it seems now, strong fingers pressing your thighs apart as he swipes a stripe up between your lips, licking you all the way from your hole to your clit, the sensation has your hips jerking, which he pins in place. “Ah- ah brat, stay still.”
“S’too much… I… oh my god.” Sukuna is devouring your pussy, there’s no other term for it, the way he laps at your pussy with his stupidly long tongue, his eyes bright red when they look at you, when he flicks it to your clit. You’re soaking him, hands pulling at his hair, earning his groan against you. “Wh-what… you’re… I…”
“Shut up, brat, I want to hear you cum, not run your mouth.” You should be offended, but you can’t be, not when he’s fucking your velvety walls with his tongue now, pinching your clit with two of his fingers, the stimulation far too much, you feel it, the pressure building in your core, spreading.
“Kuna!” You’re screaming that nickname, he doesn’t care in fact he loves hearing it, loves your pussy drooling around his tongue, he feels your walls tighten around his wet muscle then, looking up at your face, mouth open wide in an O, eyes rolled back, your hands yanking his hair out, and he knows you’re cumming for him.
He’s grinding his cock on the mattress, aching to be inside you, but he also wants to make you beg for it, wants to make you pathetic for him, only him. You’re cumming so blinding, stars bursting everywhere behind your eyelids, your body convulsing as you’re gushing all over his handsome face. You feel his grin against you when he pulls back his tongue, slipping two fingers inside.
“Hear how slutty she is, huh? So slutty thought you were a good girl.” He huffs, you’re reeling from cumming so hard when he quickly finds your g spot, as if he knew your body forever. “Can’t talk? Pathetic.”
“F-fuck… you I… it’s too much!” You whine, he’s scissoring those two fingers in and out of your now soppy little hole, you do hear it, the wetness so fucking loud, he’s licking your clit now, sucking it into his mouth, you’re pushing over the edge again. “Both!? I c-can’t!”
“Mmm, you can, cum again, pretty slut. Lemme drink it.” You’re trying to close your thighs, but he forces them open, smacking at one, shaking his head. “Again, y’can do it.”
“S’too much…” You’re whining over and over, it is so much pleasure you have trouble comprehending a thought, when he crooks his fingers in your gooey walls, and sucks your clit again, you’re shattering.
“Mmm, there you go, you can do it can’t ya?” He’s cooing to you, smirk on his features, that are coated in your slick.
“Please!” You’re yanking him up, he chuckles a bit, letting you, hovering over you with his strong arms, as he wipes your chin with one hand.
“You’re fucking drooling, god, fucked out already? Can you handle me?” He raises a brow, you want to retort, but you are fucked out, you came more than you ever have, now you’re opening your mouth and closing it. “Can’t talk, stupid brat?”
“F-fuck off… ass…” You manage, earning him more hard for you, kissing you deeply, you taste yourself then, but even more when he shoves his fingers in your pussy, scooping out more arousal, shoving them in your mouth.
“Suck them like a good girl, there ya fuckin go, pretty little slut.” You’re in tears from overstimulation as you suck him eagerly. “So ya can follow directions, ha… didn’t know that mouth could shut.”
“Shut it.” You whisper, pulling back with a pop, he falters at your seductive words, shaking his head.
“You sucked dick?”
“N-no.” You admit, he sighs then.
“Look, maybe not the first time.”
“Sukuna, are you being caring?” You tease, his brows lower, lips pressing in a firm line.
“No! Just… you need a lot of workup and… will you stop smiling like that!? Stop looking at me that way.”
“Like what?” You tease, hands unbuttoning him shakily, he pulls back then, taking a breath as he looks down at your pretty body, and you reveal more of his chiseled frame.
“Like… that. Like you’re…”
“In love with you?” His jaw tenses again.
“Shut it, now.”
“I am, stupid ass. Don’t know why.” You sit up when he stands, eagerly unbuttoning his pants, his heart races like he’s the virgin, brain short circuiting when you slip them down, his boxers following.
“I… you… shouldn’t…” He doesn’t remember what he was saying, you’re too sexy, too pretty, your words he’s never thought he’d hear. “You don’t love me. Don’t say it.”
“I do, and I will say it.”
“Then why did you ask for… casual!?”
You’re blushing when his cock is revealed, and it’s massive, thick and heavy, his reddened tip drooling precum. It’s so big you can’t understand how it would fit, your hand barely circles the girth, looking so tiny against him, he’s ridiculously big. You nervously look up, seeing his eyes dilated, his lashes lowered, Sukuna’s hands come to enwrap in your loose hair, gripping it.
“Answer me, brat. Now.”
“Because if that’s how you want to, I’ll do it. I want you, I have wanted you.” He exhales, jerking when you lick his tip.
“I don’t want to be casual with you, okay!?” You smile, he rolls his eyes. “Don’t you dare smile like that. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna be all mushy and dumb.”
“I don’t want to be casual either.” He cups your face with his other hand, groaning when your hot mouth starts sucking him in, there’s too much of him, you barely get the tip and an inch or two, swirling your tongue, tasting the salty precum, his musky scent filling your nostrils.
“F-fuck…” Sukuna’s stuttering, you swear you hear him whine, but you wonder if it’s a trick of your ears, his hand on your face shaky when he starts thrusting his cock in your mouth, eyes locked on yours. “Stupidly pretty brat.”
He might as well say ‘my love’ or ‘darling’ because your body reacts, already having had so much pleasure you’re wet again, when he yanks you more on his cock, shoving it deeper. You’re breathing through your nose as he fucks your throat, as he’s gasping and moaning out your name, you finally think you have a rhythm when he pulls you off.
“Was it okay?” You ask nervously, he shoves you on your back, between your thighs in an instant then, you gasp for breath.
“Okay? Sucked it like some pro. You lyin’ t’me?” You giggle, shaking your head and catching his gaze.
“Watch porn though.”
“Porn ain’t shit to what I’m gonna do.” You’re crying out as his tip leaks precum along your clit, biting your lip when he’s pressing into your tight ring of muscles, your nails dig into his back, feeling the taut skin. “If we do this, you’re never fucking anyone, never. Fuckin got me brat?”
You blink a bit, as his tip presses in, stretching your skin. “You love me too, don’t you Kuna?” You tease, he scoffs, but then nods just a bit, and kisses you, pressing past your barrier, you gasp at it, at the pain, being stretched by him. “Ow! Shit!”
“Shit… y-you’re too tight… loosen the fuck up, brat.” You glare up at him, throbbing from the pain now, he’s barely holding on.
“I can’t. Y-you’re an idiot!”
“Running your mouth?”
“You’re too big!”
“Fuck…” He eases back, leaning up on an elbow, hand slipping down and rolling on your clit. “Relax, annoying ass. Even your pussy is stubborn.”
“You’re… so… ah!” His circles are rough, calloused thumb pressing on your little engorged clit, when he sinks in again.
“Relax, now.” His husky voice gives you that order, you do so then, exhaling and looking into his eyes, that are so dark they look black, you nod weakly. “You… are you alright?”
“You care, aw.” You can’t help it, you’re grinning all fucked up.
He glares again, this time thrusting deep, you scream out at it, he moans, biting your neck again, big hand gripping your thigh and lifting it higher. “Fucking feel her, gripping me my god. She’s mine, huh?”
“Y-yours, Kuna.” Your little whimper destroys him, your cunt pulsing around him, stretching and getting wetter to accommodate, and he begins actually fucking you then, you’re so wet, hot and tight he can’t stand how good it feels, he’s already dreaming of breeding this little cunt as you convulse under him.
“F-fucking love it, slutty little pussy.” His words along with his tip dragging against that spot in your walls send you reeling, you hear it now the skin smacking, his balls slapping your ass, wetness squelching when he pulls back, gripping your hips with a wicked grin. “Look, fucking your guts up, huh?”
He forces your chin to look down at the ridiculous bulge in your tummy, you gasp at it, clinging to his sheets now, so full when he sinks more of his cock in you, so much you don’t think he’ll fit fully, he’s already slamming your cervix. His hands slip up your hips, yanking you down further, you scream out at how good it feels.
“Ruin you, no one… n-no one’s gonna do this, yeah?” He leans over just a bit, fucking you harder, thrusts so rough your tits jiggle, your body moves. “Use you as my little fuck toy, pretty toy, so fucked out and stupid.”
“Ngh!” You are stupid, your eyes are rolling back, you’re drooling, incapable of doing anything but pulsing on his cock now, of desperately clinging to him.
“S-say it, brat.” He’s shoved his cock so deep, your cunt is dripping down his veiny length, you’re whimpering desperately, nodding. “That’s it, cum f’me, lemme feel her clamp down. F-fuck, there she is…”
Now Sukuna is full of nonsense, you’re both mumbling as he does ruin you for anyone, as you ruin him for anyone, he’s kissing you sloppy, his tattooed hand wraps your throat. He squeezes just so, you’re fading as he rails your cunt, muttering filthy, nasty words, you were a virgin, but he sure the fuck wasn’t taking it easy.
Well, you didn’t think he was, Sukuna actually is taking it easy.
He’ll wait before he goes where he wants to, but you so eagerly open your mouth for his spit, desperately cumming all over his cock then. “Made f’me, pussy she’s m-mine, hmm?”
You’re getting choked, swallowing spit, and this asshole asks you a question? You manage a nod, as he slows finally, releasing your throat, hand slipping up your titty to pinch your nipple, hips rolling just so, jerking his cock against your bruised cervix. You’re a stupid mess under him, sputtering when he finally slows his rhythm, when he thickens impossibly in you.
“I’m never pulling out of you, on something?” He huffs, you blink in confusion as he grins. “Asked ya a question brat.”
“On… pill… mmm…” He moans now, exhaling.
“Good, hah-” He thrusts deep again, you’re fluttering around his length. “Wouldn’t pull out anyway. I’d knock you the fuck up, breed your slutty cunt.” You’re done for, when he starts spurting cum, crying out in your ear, taking over everything with his huge body on top of you, in you, around you. He’s cumming so much it’s ridiculous, coating your walls, filling your belly full. “Oh f-fuck… fuckin love you…”
You blink as you come to, as your cum and his are pushed out with each thrust, your thighs shaking, head buzzing from pleasure. He looks at you then, eyes desperate, biting his lower lip while you put it together. “You love me, Kuna?”
“Shut up.” You smile when he kisses you again, and well… you don’t just fuck once for your first time.
You’re fucking in the shower to ‘clean up’ and then he’s got you up on the counter, devouring your pussy again, seeing how many times you can cum, soon he’s got his game going, showing you the controls as you’re cockwarming him. You’re so sore no amount of ibuprofen will fix it, but you want more, you’re grinding on him as you wear his headset, getting shot hopelessly by the players.
That’s where Yuuji finds you all, your tits out, Sukuna half naked, big hands on your hips with his cock inside you, you gasp then, covering your tits with your hands, but Sukuna just laughs, kissing on your shoulders. Yuuji covers his face, turning away quickly in embarrassment.
“K-kuna… s-stop…” You whisper, but Yuuji waves at you all, covering his eyes with a smile.
“You’re getting along!”
“Um… yeah.” You manage, and Sukuna’s laughing so hard it’s annoying, he doesn’t pay attention to your glare.
“Cool… um… bye.” He hides in his room, you try to get up, but Sukuna has you pinned down, tilting your head and kissing you.
“You’re insane, Sukuna.”
“You love that shit.”
“Shush. Show me the… g-game…”
The teammates are very curious why Sukuna started sucking at Call of Duty that day, but he has his new very annoying girlfriend to blame, she’s just squeezing his cock too good.
A/N I really have been feeling some Sukuna latelyyy, I hope ya'll enjoyed the smut aha!! <3
Taglisttt: @yenayaps @schlokki @elliesndg @thelightknight21 @attackonnat @indiewritesxoxo @sylussss7 @ninikrumbs @zezedoesshit @iveiveim @spacefae-x @maomimii @moonchhu @jinxiewritings perma tags- @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @aldebrana
All my sukuna oneshots hereee
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feelgoodinct · 5 months ago
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nsfw, mdni.
simon becomes an absolute dog when he sees you in his shirt.
cw: possessive simon, sex on carpet (ouch), unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink (?).
simon is a good roommate. he’s organized, clean, pays rent on time, and minds his own space. the only thing is—roommate is hot. stupidly hot. you know he doesn’t have a girlfriend and he’s never once brought back a girl let alone mentioned one. you figured your little crush on him would pass like all the other (it does not). you start dropping hints that you find him attractive. like wearing your tightest tops, brushing your ass against him while reaching for a cup, even leaving one of your lacy thongs to mix in with his laundry. he never bites the bait. you start to think that maybe he just doesn’t find you attractive or even worse he finds you creepy. so you tuck your schoolgirl crush away into the cavity of your chest.
you close the washer with your hip, cradling your laundry basket back to your room. you hear the familiar turn of your front door lock letting you know simon is home from his morning gym session.
you pad into the living room to ask simon if he needed any clothes washed. simons back is turned from you when he begins to slip off his trainers, dropping his gym at the foot of the door.
“need any clothes washed? i’m starting a load up right now.” you ask eyeing the movement of back muscle underneath his compression shirt.
he finally turns to you and starts to respond “nah don’t think-“ before he snaps his mouth shut when he sees what you’re wearing. “that mine?” his voice gruff, it’s his army issued shirt that is long enough to cover your shorts. a deep green color that frays at the hem and has his last name in bold at the back of it. you notice he’s staring at the worn fabric waiting for an answer.
you look down, “oh yeah. sorry was doing laundry found this in hamper. my clothes are in the wash. hope that’s okay?” you sound apologetic like you just did something unforgivable. jesus christ what were you thinking wearing his shirt without asking. you shift trying to ease your embarrassment.
he’s on you in three short strides. making a noise between a growl and snarl. you don’t know how or when you both ended up on the living room floor. frankly, it’s the last thing on your fucking mind now that you’re on your knees cheek pressing into the shag carpet. you can feel the heat of his stare between your legs. you get a glimpse of your shorts and panties strewn across the floor leaving you in his shirt. you wait with bated breath for him to touch you. you wiggle your hips in a silent plead to get him to do something, anything…everything.
he gives the flesh of your ass a heavy smack that has you clenching around nothing. “be good now.” is all you hear before the sting leaves an angry red mark that you know is gonna leave you wincing for the next week. simon smooths a hand over the back of your (his) shirt making a noise in the back of his throat.
you hear shuffling behind you before you feel the head of him catch on to your opening making your mouth gape like a fish out of water. he groans at the contact, kneading the fat of your hips, before he presses in painfully slow with a hiss. you whimper into the carpet, fists balling, feeling hot all over. your cunt pulses trying to make room for him inside your womb.
“i know. i know, pretty girl. almost there.” simon bites back a hiss when you clench at his words. you think you might die like this. laid out on ugly apartment carpet trying to take simon’s cock. you could cry with relief when you feel simon’s balls meet your clit letting you know he’s all the way in. simon lets out a guttural sound bordering on animalistic at the sight of you speared open on his cock, last name across your back, absolutely crying for it.
he fists the bottom of the shirt to keep you still and eases his hips back just to sink back in slowly. the pressure in your navel hurts so good it’s starting to make you dizzy. simon sets a pace that has you trying to cant your hips back to meet his thrusts. he lays a heavy palm in the middle of your back, just under the boldened ‘RILEY’, keeping you pinned giving you no choice but to take what he gives you.
“prettiest fuckin girl i ever seen. gonna give this cunt the proper treatment she deserves, yeah?” he bends his left leg, somehow sliding in deeper. there’s no doubt that you can feel him in your lungs. “s’deep simon.” you slur, reaching a hand back to weakly press against his stomach. he chuckles at the act taking both wrists into one of his hands pressing them at the small of your back, forcing you into a deeper arch. you sob at the change in angle. your nipples being rubbed raw by the friction of his thrusts.
“needed this real bad, huh? don’t worry baby. i’ll make sure you don’t go without it again. wearing those tiny tops think i didn’t notice.” his voice rough and deep behind you. “uh huh.” you reply without a second thought, you don’t even care that you’ve been drooling into the carpet or that you’ve been caught. simon gives a deep chuckle at how pliant you’ve become just from some good dick.
he knows your close by the increasing volume of your sounds. he never lets up his pace determined to give you his all. “where?” he asks in a quick breathe. you take a few seconds to register his words. “huh?” you manage to squeak out. “where do you want me, pretty thing?” he says in an almost pained voice. the gears turn in your head before you speak up “inside. want it inside. m’clean. pill.” resorting to short clipped words. you beg, as if you have to, simon thinks.
your orgasm comes hard and fast leaving you sobbing out garbled version of please and simon. simon is not far behind burying himself as deep as your bodies will allow and comes inside with a pinched “oh fuck.” he pulls out with a pop and watches his spend leak down your slit leaving a small puddle on the floor that he knows he’ll have to scrub out later.
simon pats your backside affectionately. “don’t think we’ll be doing any laundry today” he says with a grin that makes you giggle. “yeah, don’t think so.”
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kurooh · 8 months ago
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FILL ME UP ! — BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA
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⊹₊˚. he thinks you look so pretty with his cum dripping from your pussy.
⟡ feat. aged up! midoriya izuku, bakugō katsuki, kirishima eijirou, dabi, takami keigo.
⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex, oral [f receiving], cum eating.
⟡ xoxo, juno: i’m sorry this is so short ): the past 72 hours have been horrible hahah
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— MIDORIYA IZUKU.
unsurprisingly, he wants to get you pregnant someday; he cums the hardest whenever he thinks about filling you up with his cum and picturing your swollen belly.
“ah, baby, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum— fuck! where do you want it?” izuku stutters, hips jerking wildly as pleasure zaps through him like lightning.
“inside, ‘zuku..”
“a-are you sure?” his voice rises in surprise and he doesn’t know where to put his hands when you thrust your ass into his pelvis. your eyes are hooded when you turn, tossing him a look over your shoulder that has him spilling inside of you with a desperate whine.
izuku cums so much that it starts to run down the length of his cock, so he collects the excess on his fingers before rubbing his sticky fingers against your clit.
you moan lowly, “fuck it deep, izu.”
with a shaky nod and a tight grip on your hips, he complies, thrusting into you hard. despite having cum already, he feels his cock throb, eager to fill you up again.
“can i cum again, please? need to fill you up!”
— BAKUGŌ KATSUKI.
he fills you up because he has a possession kink.. in his mind, cumming inside you makes you his. he’ll take photos/videos of you dripping with his cum and jerk off to it later.
“s-shit, your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight,” katsuki grits out, pressing into the backs of your thighs to make the mating press a little closer. your ankles rest on his shoulders, feet dangling, gold anklet with a ‘k’ he gave you catching the afternoon light through the window.
you grin up to him, before pleasure washes over your whole body and your face falls as you moan. “go ahead and fill it up, kat.. i need it so badly.”
“shit, you’re not on the pill.” crimson eyes are full of worry and thoughtfulness.
“i don’t fucking care,” you groan, your eyes rolling back when the tip of his cock presses deep inside you, in just the right place.
katsuki doesn’t doubt you, or object — after all, he wants to fill you up. but why are his balls clenching at your words, his cock spilling cum deep inside you so quickly?
you feel his cock tighten inside you before heat is gushing all over you, sending you right into your own orgasm. he pulls back to stare, watching wide eyed as his cum drips out of your fluttering hole.
“fuck, you’re so good. i’ll never be able to pull out again, god.”
— KIRISHIMA EIJIROU.
he loves to make you as messy as possible, and then he’ll lick it all up.
“mmmh, ‘m still sensitive eiji..” your words come out as a soft mewl as your boyfriend spreads your legs open eagerly.
“wanna taste,” eijirou mumbles, eyes hooded as he notices your hole clench on nothing as he licks smeared cum off your thigh. “i also wanna make you cum again, yeah?”
“y-yeah,” you stutter when he drags his tongue along the sides of your pussy, collecting your squirt and his own cum on his tongue. eijirou swallows, kissing your clit with a quiet moan before he’s licking a stripe between your folds.
when he hears you whimper at the light touch, he fights off a smile and dips his tongue inside you easily. he tastes the bitterness of his own cum and the sweetness of your slick, and lets out a groan as his cock throbs against the bed beneath him.
“god.. ‘s good.” he doesn’t hesitate to pull back, pressing his tongue flat against your clit. then he slides his fingers into you, looking up at you eagerly. eijirou’s eyes meet yours, and he grins at just how shy you look.
“don’t worry baby, i’m gonna make you squirt again, yeah? focus on me.”
— DABI [TODOROKI TŌYA].
whenever tōya’s feeling jealous, he fills you up and makes you cry.. sometimes he likes to fuck you on top of a building or in an alleyway during pro-hero hawks’ patrols.
“you gotta scream for me, doll,” tōya hisses before biting into your shoulder while his grip on your neck gets tighter.
face burning with horniness and head spinning, you let out a long whine, and it echoes in the secluded alleyway. “fill me up and make me yours, tōya!”
he ignores the rustle of feathers from above, and only fucks into you harder. a thin sheen of sweat gleams on the darkened skin of his chest, the staples shining even more in the light.
tōya thinks you look beautiful like this, back against the wall and oh so pliant — letting him bounce you on his cock, or fuck your hole until all you can slur out is his name.
“louder. let the whole city know who’s fuckin’ you, doll.”
— TAKAMI KEIGO.
though he’s human, his bird-like quirk influences so much about him, such as his food choices, interests, and the way he likes to fuck.
vermillion wings rustle beneath you as you ride keigo’s cock into oblivion. his head is thrown back, golden tufts spread out on the car seat around it; above, your holding down both of his wrists tightly.
“lemme touch you, dove, come onnn.”
“no,” you gasp after a particularly deep stroke, “you’re just g-gonna bounce me up ‘nd down, and i want to ride you.”
your eyes close tightly as you languidly drag yourself up and down, pussy squeezing him so tight he feels like he’s about to burst. slowly, he feels himself thicken, approaching his high.
it’s as if a switch is flipped.
without even holding your hips and waist, keigo slams his hips upwards into you, stretching out your pussy almost mercilessly.
“keigo! that’s not— fuck!” your voice breaks off into a gasp, tits bouncing as he fucks you hard.
“g-gotta fill you up, dove.” his golden eyes are dark, swirling with some kind of breeding instinct. his wings are fluttering now, beating the air so strongly that goosebumps rise on your skin.
keigo’s entire body lurches beneath you as he chokes out a groan, “nghhh— i’m cumming, shit..”
his cock spills inside of you, effectively filling you up. however, he makes no move to pull out. when you start to sit up, he stops you.
“mm mm. let’s let it sit for a while, ‘nd i’ll stay inside, alright?”
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joonberriess · 10 months ago
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e s p r e s s o
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⋆ TAGS — boxer!jk, he’s a fanboy, pouty jkkkkkk, oc’s a idol, sugar daddy elements, fluffy, rom-com vibess, jk’s secretly a little sub who loves praise, praise kinks, making love, jealous!jk, possessive!jk, rough sex, pussy-eating, unprotected sex, creampies, very light dirty talk, oc’s a tease, jk just loves oc, some violence (nothing serious jk punches a guy), oc’s a pillow princess, mainly dom!jk, subby!oc who is a menace, jk is super protective and a good bf, he beats someone up for you, tit play
⋆ WORD COUNT — 14.6 k
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Jeon Jungkook was many things—charismatic, “lover boy”, charming—but the biggest one of all: a pain in the ass (for Yoongi). Jungkook was the type of guy to do whatever he wanted WHEN he wanted.
The kid had a strong backbone, Yoongi will give him that but it was an absolute nightmare dealing with the press for someone like Jungkook. Yoongi can count on his fingers how many times Jungkook’s gotten into heat for his loud ass mouth. Sometimes not all publicity was necessary whether it was good or bad in Yoongi’s opinion (not that anyone’s ever asked).
“Where is he? That little shit–” Yoongi growls behind gritted teeth as he storms through the gym towards the private training room Jungkook usually practiced in.
He slams the door open and locks eyes with his target, “There you are–!”
Jungkook stops in his tracks and turns around in surprise, “Hyung?” He’s confused as fuck because he’s been behaving himself lately, sooo what did he do now? “Yoongi hyung—ow! What the hell was that for?”
“How many times did I tell your ass to keep your little flings under the radar? I told you: if you’re gonna be fooling around with people do it on the down low but no, you just gotta fucking let the world know huh?” Yoongi seethes, literally trembling with rage from where Jungkook stands.
Jungkook makes a confused noise, “But I didn’t–”
“Then, what. The. Fuck. Is this?” Yoongi slaps his phone in Jungkook’s face, on it there’s some tweet with an article linked to it.
Jungkook squints his eyes mumbling under his breath as he reads the tweet out loud, “..Idol l/n y/n caught in a dating scandal with infamous boxer Jeon Jungkook–what’s the big deal though, everyone usually ignores these types of things.”
Yoongi looks like he wants to scream, “Kid you realize you’re a celebrity right?” Nod. “Okay, and she’s a celebrity too right?” Nod. “So why in the FUCK wouldn’t this be a big deal? I mean, it’s not like we’re not talking about the nation’s ‘sweetheart’ here, the country’s fucking pride and joy.” He really needs a fucking smoke right now.
“Hyung it’s just a fucking rumor she probably doesn’t even care or know about it, I don’t see why you’re stressing out. Not like I know her either,” Jungkook carelessly says as he throws a few punches at the bag, “you’re gonna end up bald with how you’re stressing right now.”
Yoongi takes a deep breath, in, out, in, out. “Because, idiot,” emphasis on the idiot, “this shit is getting out of control, you have any idea how many fucking news outlets are talking about this? For fucks sake the entire country is in shambles cause their ‘precious’ y/n is supposedly dating some lowlife boxer, no biggie really it’s not like I haven’t been getting threats either over this little stunt of yours.” He glares.
Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh as he stops in his tracks, “Hyung I didn’t do anything, so fucking what if I posted a pic with my photocard, it’s MY photocard! Don’t her fans do that shit too, so why is it a problem that I do it too?”
“Because people think you’re dating now! They think you’re soft launching her or something!” Yoongi tugs at his hair, “You realize if people find out you fucked with her just to get in her bed they’re gonna lose it and not just on her but you mainly. You want a fucking witch hunt out for you? Because you know damn well they love her more than you.”
“Ouch.” Jungkook grumbles petulantly.
“No, ouch, use your fucking brain think about the damage you’ll take all because you wanted to fuck their little princess.” Yoongi glares.
Jungkook’s almost offended that Yoongi would think of him like that. Sure he had his fair share of groupies and models but Jungkook wasn’t a complete asshole about it! He had feelings too, he’s not sorry that he was fucking casually like any other normal person who was looking to unwind. It also isn’t his fault that they labeled him a playboy.
In the eyes of the public Jungkook was a menace as there were rumors of him knocking models up and cheating on the girls he’s ever gotten spotted with. Everyday he woke up and there was something new that came out whether it was him “dating” or his flings coming out to talk about their one night stands.
Needless to say he didn’t have the best public image.
“Okay let me stop you there, I’m not after her for sex or anything. If you really want to know, I'm actually interested in her. I wanna get to know her some more and take things further y’know?” He huffs and wipes the sweat off his brow with his shirt.
Yoongi scoffs, “Yeah right, I’ll believe it when I see it.” As he finishes his sentence the door opens and Namjoon pops in with Seokjin, the two team members hauling in some duffle bags in tow.
“What’s going on? The hell Yoongi look so red for?” Namjoon huffs as he drops the bag gracelessly, “Jungkook what did you do now?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment, tutting him like a misbehaved child.
Jungkook’s mouth drops open, this traitor! He’s supposed to be on his side, not Yoongi’s. Seokjin interrupts with a loud cackle, “What didn’t he do?” Another traitor! Jungkook can’t believe this, his own hyungs against him.
“Long story short Romeo over here is in a dating scandal—not with just anybody though, fucking l/n y/n. Y’know, the poster child.” Yoongi spits harshly, shooting Jungkook another pissy look while he’s at it.
Namjoon’s mouth drops open in shock, Seokjin actually looks pretty terrified too which is funny because if only he could see the face he’s making right now.
“No way you’re insane for that, shit good luck with the press because they don’t play about their little popstar.” Namjoon manages to utter once the shock passes.
Jungkook glares, “I didn’t do anything! They’re mad I’m showing off my photocard, I bet you that they’re jealous because they don’t have this one.” He huffs and thrusts his phone out to show them his phone case.
“What exactly did you do?” Seokjin laughs.
“Nothing! I posted a mirror pic and I didn’t expect a bunch of crazies to over analyze shit and spot the photocard. Not like it’s MY fault people make up narratives and shit.” Jungkook rolls his eyes and tucks his phone away safely in his pocket, “But you know what, just wait and see.”
“Wait and see what?” Namjoon snorts in amusement.
“Hyung doesn’t believe me but I’m serious about her, I’m gonna ask her out and from there maybe talk and get to know each other. One thing for sure she’s gonna be my girl unless she slaps me in the face and tells me to leave her alone or somethin,” Jungkook grins as he elbows his still pissed off manager.
Seokjin looks at him with a shit-eating grin, “Sure let me know how that ends up going for you.”
Jungkook purses his lips, “You’ll see..”
𓂃 ゚。 ⋆ ⟡
They end up in Miami for a boxing match Jungkook has pending but his opponent ended up coming down with something so it got canceled. Now Jungkook has no clue what to do for an entire week and it doesn’t help that he’s jet lagged, hungry, and tired. Not a good combination.
“Did they say when the match will be back on?” Jungkook mumbles boredly from his spot on the lounge chair in his hotel. He’s slumped over scrolling down his phone looking at random shit on his feed.
“Hard to tell Kook, apparently the guy’s really sick and can barely get outta bed or somethin’. They said it was better to wait it out for a week and see what happens with him.” Yoongi sighs deeply, “Fuck, just our luck too.”
Jungkook nods in agreement, “What do we do now hyung? Do we go back or..?”
Yoongi takes a seat on the opposite side of him with a shrug, “Dunno, do whatever you want since the match is canceled. Me and Joon gotta stay back to talk with the event organizers and shit.”
He goes quiet for a few moments before sitting up, “Oh wait there’s an award show going on right now, they sent me an invite for you but I don’t know if you wanna go or not.”
“Award show?” Jungkook makes a face but what other shit does he have to do? It’s not like he’s got a match anymore anyways, maybe the after party will be cool or something. “I guess, why do they want me there?”
“Appearances for the press—you know, the usual.” Yoongi hums.
Jungkook’s lips are pursed as he looks around deep in thought. DOES he wanna go? It’s not like this would be the first time they’ve asked him to make an appearance but Jungkook doesn’t really like these types of things. Red carpets and interviews are so tedious and time consuming.
Wait—
“Hyung!” He suddenly gasps, “Holy shit—pass me my suit.” He says as he bolts away into the bathroom.
Yoongi looks at him in confusion, “What..kid what the hell are you on?” He snorts, “Don’t tell me you’re excited to go to this thing.” Nonetheless he still takes out Jungkook’s suit for him and lays it on the bed.
“No you don’t understand,” Jungkook cuts off as he splashes his face with water, “y/n is probably gonna be there!”
“y/n—Jungkook really?” Yoongi groans, “I thought you were playing around last time, I didn’t think you were actually serious about it.”
Jungkook holds back his whine, “Hyung you always think I’m playing around, why isn’t anyone taking me seriously about her! I swear I have good intentions.”
“I dunno, maybe cause you have a habit of sleeping with anything that walks and looks pretty to you. Or maybe the fact that you’ve done this before. Should I remind you of that one model from Cancun?” Jungkook pouts, “Or the bartender chick from LA?” His pout deepens, “Or the girl from Paris?”
“Okay I get it!” Jungkook grumbles, “But this time I’m serious hyung, more than I ever been about someone—especially her.” He says with a sigh while changing out of his clothes and into the suit Yoongi laid out for him.
Yoongi sighs deeply, “Look all I’m saying is to be careful how you go about this, it’s a lot at stake right now not just because of you being involved with her but the fact that the public has their opinions about you already as it is.”
Jungkook appreciates the sentiment but he doesn’t need anyone to approve or disagree about his feelings. The public didn’t deserve any explanations over what Jungkook chooses to do with his life, he’s here to fight and that’s it. Not to be anyone’s marionette or dress-up doll.
“I know hyung, thanks.” He smiles back and slips his blazer on, “I’ll text you later on and tell you what happens.” Yoongi doesn’t reply verbally rather with a low grunt, “See ya.” Jungkook says with a final grin and heads out of the room down to the main lobby and into a car Yoongi had waiting for him.
On the way to the venue he checks out the award show on Instagram, he sees a lot of people he recognizes and a few new faces. His eyes scan over the page eagerly in hopes of seeing you on there. Are you performing tonight? Were you already there on the red carpet? Oh he bets you look absolutely divine tonight (you always do).
“Yes!” He says a bit too loudly startling his driver in the process as he sheepishly apologizes.
Jungnkook finally comes across a post about you and he reads over the caption with an excited hum, biting his lip when he sees that you are performing after all. He’s getting a mean adrenaline rush right now like the ones he usually gets before his matches. Just thinking about how he’s gonna get to meet you tonight is getting him all worked up. He wonders if you’ll even give him the time of day.
Only one way to find out.
.
“Jeon over here!”
“Jeon, look here!”
“Jeon, is it true you and y/n are dating?” Jungkook makes a point to ignore this and act like he didn’t hear it even though he’s screaming on the inside.
The red carpet’s full of singers and models, the fans are screaming and reporters keep getting in his damn way as he tries to make his way through the crowd. Of course he stops for a picture or two with a fan, poses for the paparazzi too but he’s not concerned with them right now. He knows he must look a little lost with the way he keeps looking around like he’s trying to find something (yeah, you).
Jungkook almost frowns like a child who didn’t get their way once he sees you’re not anywhere in sight. You probably already headed inside which sucks cause he really wanted to see you beforehand since it was probably arranged seating in there. At this rate he won’t be able to even say hi–
“Oh shit, my bad.” Jungkook says when he bumps into someone behind him. He turns around to apologize properly when his heart fucking stops. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod—it’s you.
You look up at him with those dreamy eyes of yours, face scrunched up cutely (your lips pouty) in confusion as you tilt your head up (UP!) to look at him, “Um, you’re stepping on my dress.” Even your voice is so prettyyy.
“Sorry my fault,” Jungkook steps back and kneels down to fix the rumpled state he left it in, vaguely aware of the fast flashing (the paparazzi must be eating this up), “lemme make it up to you though.” He says once he comes back up.
You tilt your head, “And how would you do that?”
“I’ll buy you a new dress.” Jungkook’s dead serious too, if you asked him to buy you a whole house he’d do it in a heartbeat. Take everything at this point—have it.
“And who said I want you to buy me things?” You muse softly.
Jungkook chuckles softly and leans down to talk in your ear because the crowd’s getting louder and it’s hard to talk to you, “Don’t be like that, if you let me take you out I’ll show you all the things I can buy you.” He murmurs low, voice husky.
You tilt your head to look at him, eyes dropping down to his lips and then back up as a coy smile plays at your soft lips, “You’re funny.” You pat his cheek with a soft manicured hand and walk away.
His heart nearly skips a damn beat when you do that. Oh he swears he can still feel your soft hand sliding over his cheek when you walked away from him like the little tease you were. He doesn’t know how long he stands there until he gets moving, a stupid grin on his face the entire time as he replays the moment over and over again in his head.
Jungkook’s not gonna lie, this little cat and mouse game that just started has him eager for more. He’s so getting your number by the end of the night, call him delusional but he swears you’re digging him too with the way you checked him out just now.
He spends the entire night throwing a few sneaky glances your way, hell when you got on stage to perform he nearly folded then and there. Everything about it—sultry gaze, soft husky voice, and sensual body rolls—was perfect. Jungkook don’t even care that people are watching him ogle you in 4K, he doesn't bother to hide the fact that he likes what he’s seeing right now.
To make things worse you pass by his seat and shoot him a dazzling little smile, waving your fingers coyly at him which makes the people go wild. Oh he’s in love. Jungkook makes a point in looking for you afterwards at the afterparty. You’re changed out of your outfit from earlier, now in a pretty babydoll and your little Prada loafers.
When he makes eye contact you shoot him a smile, “Thought I’d wear something you can’t step on again.”
Jungkook snorted softly, “I already told you, I dunno why you’re being stubborn, quit playing and let me take you out already.” He says smoothly and wraps his arm around your waist, surprised that you don’t push him off or anything.
You look him up and down with a soft hum, “Mmmm I’m kinda in the mood for some paella.”
“Then let’s go.” Jungkook’s ready, he will literally drop everything to get you some paella.
“Not from here though, I hear it’s way better in Spain.” You wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down so he’s eye level with you, “So unless you’re willing to take me to Spain, I’m not going anywhere.”
Jungkook licks his lips, “Fuck it, let’s go.” He starts leading you away, peeping the way you look surprised, “What?” He laughs.
“You’re serious, right now?” Once you recover from the initial shock you smile at him with a quiet giggle, “You’re crazy.”
Oh he just adores that cute eye-smile of yours, “Let’s get you some paella yeah?”
It’s a nine hour flight you both impulsively leave on with no bags, didn’t even tell your managers, and only your phones and wallets. No one questions when Jeon Jungkook walks through first class hand in hand with you trailing close by, you’re even wearing his blazer over your shoulders because you complained about how chilly it was.
Jungkook’s smiling like an idiot the entire time he’s sitting with you in the first class cabin. You don’t seem to mind how touchy he is so he keeps an arm over your shoulder so you’re pressed close to his side. He nearly screams when you lay your head on his shoulder and doze off into a peaceful slumber.
You left Miami around one in the morning and got to Madrid at nine with Jungkook booking you two a room at the infamous Four Seasons hotel. You knock out with him for a few more hours until you’re complaining about your paella.
“Hurry up, I'm starving and you promised me my paella.” You grumble and poke at his face.
“Yeah, yeah I’m awake.” Jungkook murmurs calmly as he rolls out of the bed to make himself presentable.
Jungkook feels like he’s in a dream right now, god this better not be because the sight of you looking so happy in front of him while eating your beloved paella is one for the books. Your little brunch date turns into a shopping date because you complain you don’t wanna be wearing clothes from yesterday since the two of you decided to stay in Spain for the weekend.
He has a goofy smile on his face as he swipes, taps, and inserts his black card at different stores you drag him to. He lets you spend his money how you want to, relishing in the way the BVLGARI store worker’s eyes nearly bulge out of their head when Jungkook pays for a forty-eight thousand wrist watch, all for you.
“Doesn’t it look pretty?” You grin softly while holding your wrist out to him.
Jungkook gently takes your hand in his and admires the watch, “Perfect, really suits you.” He grins softly as he thanks the employees and heads out with you to another store to see what you find.
By the time Sunday comes Jungkook’s spent well over one-hundred grand on you but does he care? No, not really because he did say he’d show you all the things he’d buy you. Jungkook doesn’t wanna go back to Miami but Yoongi’s bitching at him to go back because apparently his opponent got better and the match was back on and set for Tuesday the earliest.
“Let me make you mine already.” He finds himself mumbling low in your ear as he tugs you into a loose hug, not caring that you two were standing in the middle of the airport about to board different flights back (of course he pays for your first class ticket home).
You look up at him with coy eyes and a soft little smile on your glossy lips, god he just wants to kiss the fuck out of you but he doesn��t because you haven’t give him the okay for anything past non-sexual intimacy which he’s fine with because he does wanna take time to get to know you.
His breath hitches when your finger comes up to trace over his lips gently, “Cute.” You don’t say anything else and walk away after the intercom announces your flight. You leave him standing there in the middle of the airport, dreamier than ever but sadly it’s cut short by his phone ringing.
“Where the hell are you?” Yoongi growls.
“Calm down hyung, I’m boarding in a few minutes.” Jungkook sighs as he rolls his eyes, “I got so much shit to tell you.” He smirks to himself and begins walking.
𓂃 ゚。 ⋆ ⟡
Sometime into the next week when Jungkook lands back in Korea he asks for your number through Instagram. He’s kinda surprised you gave it to him instead of dodging him like before, nonetheless he’s happy and giddy about it. He quite literally looks like a schoolgirl kicking her feet in bed texting her crush, that’s how he feels like right now.
You’re a quick texter which he likes and you don’t seem to mind him spamming so that’s even better. Jungkook spends his week giggling over dumb shit (it’s not) you say which has Seokjin making fun of him for it, which speaking of them they still couldn’t believe Jungkook pulled you.
“No way let me see.” Seokjin had demanded, “You’re lying, she would never, she looks like she has standards.” Jungkook can’t tell if he’s jealous or something, maybe he’s a secret stan too who knows.
Jungkook long established he was down bad for you ages ago but this just took the cake, a whole new level of simping. It starts when Jungkook decides to post a training video of him boxing/training, he goes viral and trends for a week because in the background he’s playing one of your songs. He’s got a shit ton of people calling him a “girly pop” or “cunty boxer” but most tell him he knows what’s up.
He doesn’t know but by him doing that it opens a new door to your developing relationship because you start asking him to do things for you. It starts with you telling him to change his profile picture with a pic from your latest comeback (he gets made fun of by your fans but he doesn’t care).
Then you make him tweet: “stream y/n for clear skin” while promoting your music video through him (again he’s a laughing stock). The nail in the coffin is when you prettily request him to wear a shirt from your merch collection after one of his boxing matches.
“Oh my god.” Yoongi says with his mouth dropped open in shock as Jungkook steps out of the backroom wearing a baby pink t-shirt with your face all over it, the cameras flash like crazy and reporters yell out a slew of different questions.
Jungkook runs around carefree in his little pink shirt posing for the cameras and grinning like an idiot because he knows you’re probably at home watching this. Yoongi asks him why he does these things and Jungkook just shrugs, he likes the praise you give him for doing everything you ask him to. He knows it’s light-hearted fun and you’d never do anything to humiliate him intentionally, if you’re happy then that’s all that matters.
jk: did u see me tonight?
y/n <3: yess lol can’t believe you actually did itttt
you looked super cute too, you should wear more shirts with my face on them.
jk: mayyybeeee you can come to one of my matches? don’t u think i earned it?
y/n <3: when is it?
Jungkook damn nearly yells out in excitement, he’s literally shaking as he types out a fast response like you’re about to change your mind or something. He sends you the time and day for it, promising front row seats so you’ll have a good view as he kicks this guy’s ass. You have him cheesing when you say this is going to be your first boxing match too, he’s so excited now.
“Calm down kid you’re gonna give me a headache with all that tapping.” Yoongi grunts as he slaps his hand against Jungkook’s knee, “I don’t know why you’re nervous, she already told you she’s here.”
“Because hyung! This is a big deal to me, she’s here at one of my matches and she’s gonna get a front row view of the fight. Now I have to win this, I have to make it worth her time.” Jungkook grumbles with a pout.
Somewhere off to the side he hears Namjoon snort at him, “She’s really got you wrapped around her finger don’t she?” He says while hauling in a cooler with water bottles.
Jungkook doesn’t even refute that statement, he barely bothers to acknowledge him because he’s reading over the texts you’re sending him. “Hyung she said yes to coming to the after party!” He grins cheerfully.
“Good now get your head out of your ass and focus on what I’m about to say. You have less than five minutes before you’re up in that ring and I need your head in the game.” Yoongi says sternly as he plucks Jungkook’s phone out of his hand, “You remember what I said about pacing yourself?”
Jungkook sits there listening as Yoongi goes into trainer mode, he knows his hyung means no harm and just wants him to win this so Jungkook can’t really be mad at him. He must have zoned out because Yoongi brings him back with a sharp smack to his arm, “Are you listening to me?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook smiles as he stands up, “let’s do this.”
“Get out there and make me proud.”
The entire atmosphere outside has Jungkook’s adrenaline kicking in already. He hears the crowd chanting his name, the loud booming music, and the chatter from the on-goers. He mentally psyches himself, lightly bouncing on his feet as he closes his eyes and mumbles a small prayer. Once he hears his name echo loudly and the screams he steps out with his gloves in the air.
This is what he lives for—the crowds, the music, and the atmosphere. He looks around the arena with a grin as they chant his name over and over again, stopping here and there to pose with fans. Jungkook’s not entirely focused on them though, his eyes wander through the front row looking for you and when his gaze finally lands on you he can’t help the big smile he sports.
You look so pretty with your MIUMIU glasses over your head. You’ve got on a plain baby white tee under your black leather jacket, some low rise jeans and your loafers. Right now you’re the center of attention in your section with people taking pics of you from every direction and some asking for an autograph. You even brought your little friend (Jeon Soyeon?) along.
As he passes by Jungkook shoots you a wink to which you wave back with a flirty little smile. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes skim over his bare chest and the desire begins fueling him with more determination to win. Sure he likes winning because who doesn’t? But now he has more reason to win, he has to impress his future girl.
Jungkook gets pulled up on stage with his heart drumming against his ribcage, he’s so ready for this. The ref calls out both of them and soon enough after slipping his mouth guard and gloves on he rises to his feet and stalks forward slowly with a glint in his eye.
“I want a clean fight okay,” the ref says to both as Jungkook nods, “alright, to your corners.” He sends them both away, the announcer saying some shit Jungkook doesn’t really concern himself with.
Jungkook makes eye contact with you one last time, the two of you mutually nodding before the sound of a bell has Jungkook immediately shifting his focus. He’s light on his feet and takes his time watching with diligent eyes as his opponent circles around him, waiting to get the hit on him but Jungkook’s faster.
The guy swings but Jungkook easily dodges, another swing and Jungkook manages to catch him off guard with a sucker punch to the jaw sending the guy reeling backwards. Jungkook feels like he had enough time to warm-up, he doesn’t play around anymore and launches himself towards his opponent with determination.
Punch after punch and round after round ends with Jungkook delivering one final blow, easily sealing this poor guy’s fate as the guy just lets go and falls to the ground. The referee jumps in, counting down from ten as Jungkook watches with anticipation and adrenaline, ready to go again if this guy gets up. He sees Yoongi sitting with clenched fists and a hopeful look in his eye, and then he sees you.
You’re looking at Jungkook with worry, eyebrows furrowed and doe eyes filled with concern. He manages a bloody smile despite the fucking world of pain he’s in right now (he’s not looking forward to the ice bath after this). He swears the world around him blurs until he finally hears the bell and the announcer’s voice echoing through the arena.
“Knockout!”
Jungkook sags in relief as he hears cheers and yells all around. The paparazzi flash him with their cameras as the crowd loses it, Jungkook turns in time to see Yoongi crawling into the ring and bringing him in for a tight hug, “You fuckin’ did it kid,” he laughs in disbelief as he has Jungkook spit his bloody mouthguard out.
“Fuck hyung, water.” Jungkook rasps out as Yoongi yells for Namjoon to come over.
“You good?” Yoongi asks, “Look at me kid, you okay?” He pats his cheek as Jungkook nods tiredly given that the adrenaline rush was now gone, leaving him bruised and exhausted.
Namjoon comes over with water as Jungkook takes sips, spitting it out into a bucket Yoongi holds out for him to rinse his mouth out. The referee comes over to announce Jungkook as the winner as he stands there barely holding on from pain. He makes eye contact with you again, smiling through the exhaustion despite feeling pretty shitty right now. He slowly makes his way over as you simultaneously rise from your chair to meet him halfway.
“So, what do you think?” Jungkook smirks as he crouches down and hops out of the ring.
You pout cutely with a frown, “You’re hurt.” You softly murmur as your delicate hand comes up to cup his face, “I’m happy for you though, you did really amazing.” You smile.
Jungkook feels his heart swell with happiness hearing that, he goes to wrap his arm around your shoulder but stops in pain. He forgot about this part as a low groan slips from his lips, “Shit he got me pretty good.”
“Don’t overexert yourself,” you help him wrap an arm around you, “gotta be careful, you took some pretty hard hits in there.”
Jungkook laughs tiredly as he lays his head on top of yours while you walk together to the back, “Shoulda seen the other guy.” He says low, ignoring the pointed glare you shoot at him, “Yeah, yeah, I’m just messing with you.”
You grumble something under your breath but he doesn’t catch it, he’s riding off on the high from winning and being so close to you. He likes this and wouldn’t mind having you in his life more after this as he’s long made peace with the idea of you being in his future. All he can think about at this moment is you, you, you.
.
“Say you can't sleep, baby, I know that's that me, espresso,”
Jungkook’s laughing and talking with his friends, he’s got you wrapped up in his arms pressed against his chest as he nurses a whiskey in his other hand. You play with one of his necklaces and tune out his conversation which he doesn’t notice until he turns to you and sees how sad you look, “What’s wrong?”
You look up at him and shake your head, “Just thinking.”
“About?” He gently prods, shifting his entire attention to you.
“You didn’t look so good earlier..how do you do it? I mean, I get you trained for this but I dunno, kinda scared me seeing you all beat up.” You softly murmur, “It’s just a thought of mine, I don’t mean to offend you or anything.”
Jungkook softens at that, he thinks it’s adorable you’re worrying about him like that. Almost feels like.. “Let’s dance?” He asks when a favorite song of his comes on, “C’mon, it’ll take your mind off things.” He grins.
You smile at him softly and follow him to the dancefloor, wrapping your arms around his neck as he holds you by the hips with gentle hands. He hums along to the song playing in the background with his dark eyes trained on yours. You look so beautiful under the dark lights and he can’t help but lean in.
“You’re super pretty y’know that?” Jungkook softly hums as he presses his forehead against yours.
You softly laugh, “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Mmm did I mention I really like your lips?” His lip curls in a smirk, “Love how soft and plump they look, ‘specially when you wear lip gloss..” He slowly trails off as his lips hover over your own, “Can I kiss you?”
The way your eyes light up, crinkling with joy as you eagerly nod. Jungkook presses his lips to yours in a gentle manner, it’s sweet and slow, just like how he likes it. Your arms tighten around his neck and you tug him further down until he's towering over your figure, blocking you from everyone’s view.
Feels like everything’s complete now and Jungkook’s never felt happier than ever.
He slowly pulls off from the kiss as he stares down at you suddenly feeling shy, “Can I, um, maybe drive you home? Just to make sure you get home safe ‘n stuff. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, just thought I’d ask.”
“Yeah, I’d like that.” You gently reply.
A slow smile spreads over his lips and he nods, “Let’s go then.” He guides you out of the party and into his sleek black car that’s parked out in the front.
The car ride’s quiet and peaceful, he has the windows rolled down as the fresh breeze brushes over the two of you. Jungkook wishes the car ride lasted a little longer but it’s late (two in the morning actually) and he knows you’re tired. He makes a mental note to take you out on a drive next time you guys meet up.
“We’re here baby.” He murmurs softly, gently waking you from your sleep.
“Hm?” You sleepily blink and look around, “Damn, I’m more tired than I thought.” You smile tiredly while stretching your arms out.
Jungkook chuckles, “Don’t worry I got you.” He steps out and rounds the car, opening your door for you and helping you out, “Want me to carry you?” He teases.
You shoot him a sleepy pout and shake your head, “I’m good, maybe next time though.” You breathily chuckle.
“There’s a next time?” He teases.
You toss him a knowing look, stopping in front of the building door, “Good night, or morning I dunno I’m tired.” You spin around and lean over to smooch his cheek gently, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You softly murmur.
Jungkook’s completely entranced by you as he nods slowly, “Night.”
“Morning.” You teasingly correct him as you make your way inside.
Jungkook doesn’t leave until he sees you hop into the elevator, and even then you still wave at him before disappearing inside. Once you’re gone Jungkook lets out a deep sigh as he leans back on his car, what a night.
𓂃 ゚。 ⋆
A few weeks pass and it’s nothing but bliss for Jungkook. Seeing that he has no matches lined up or anything he decides to hang out with you nearly everyday whether it be you and him going out for ice cream dates or Jungkook just taking you out for evening drives out of the city.
He’s on cloud nine right now—he’s got the girl of his dreams, his payout from the last match was pretty big, and everything’s going right for him. Sure you haven’t sat down to actually clarify what you two are but Jungkook knows you feel the same way about him. Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing with the way things are right now, the you’re mine and I’m yours is left unsaid but it’s there.
You’ve both been hard launching each other on your socials for the past few weeks anyways. By now people knew there was something up with you and him, given that Jungkook wasn’t exactly discreet when he posted on his stories with you in them. Jungkook knows you’ve been doing the same thing too so by now the media kinda labeled the relationship.
Will he say anything? Probably not. Does he care? Nope. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation, he just wanted to be able to date you in peace.
Sometime in the week though you send him a message asking him if he wants to come with you as your plus one to some award show taking place in Hong Kong. He says yes of course duh, why the hell would he say otherwise?
He posts a pic with you in the private plane before calling it quits and ignoring his mentions/comments for the rest of the day. Today’s your big day and while you’re not performing he wants to put his entire focus into being there for you.
“How do I look?” He hears you say as he’s getting ready.
You’re dressed to the nines styled in vintage Chanel and Jungkook had a suit tailored to match your aesthetic for the evening. He knows you both are gonna look so good tonight, no doubt you’ll blow anyone away with your unwavering beauty too. “You look amazing.” He says as he stands behind you.
Your eyes flick up in amusement, “That’s all?”
Jungkook lays his chin over your shoulder and grins softly, “Breathtaking, beautiful, ethereal, stunning—” You cut him off with an embarrassed laugh as you swat at his hands.
“Okay, okay, I get it.” You turn around and play with the buttons to his shirt, “You look really good too.”
“That’s all?” He grins back.
“Don’t push it, you make the compliments here.” You smirk and lay a sweet kiss over his lips, to which he happily and eagerly reciprocates.
He might have gotten a little carried away with it because he’s pushing you against the sink counter and kissing you stupid like he’s been doing these days. A soft muffled groan leaves him as he circles his hands over your hips and uses his grip to pull you into him until your lower pelvis is pressing against his own, dangerously close to his friend down there.
“Jungkook–” You sigh, “We’re gonna be late.” You say in-between his eager kisses.
“Don’t care, let me kiss you stupid.” Jungkook replies as he closes the distance between you two again, moving his lips passionately against yours.
You let out a sweet little moan as your fingers card through his hair, he doesn’t even care if you mess it up either. Looks are superficial and at the end of the day regardless of how people see him they’ll never know him or you and Jungkook’s okay with that.
Suddenly the sound of a knock interrupts the two of you and you pull away with a breathless sigh, “Yeah?” You call out.
“The car’s here and traffic’s looking pretty bad so it might be good if we leave right now. We got thirty minutes to get there since the red carpet’s already started.” Your manager says through the door.
You look at Jungkook with a soft smile as you lean up to smooch his lips, “We’ll meet you down there.”
No one expects you to come out hand in hand with Jungkook and he relishes in their shocked faces/reactions. He likes the thrill and can’t help but pull you closer by the waist with his arm tucked tightly around you. They yell and beg for pictures as you walk on by with him, ignoring their weird comments or stupid questions with no meaning.
“You wanna head inside baby?” He leans down to whisper in your ear after a few rounds of interviews and photos with the paps.
“Yeah I’m getting bored.” You hide your shoulder in his shoulder and follow as he guides you towards the venue with a hand splayed protectively over the small of your back.
He can tell you’re nervous about tonight with the way you sit with your hand tightly wrapped in his. You’re currently nominated for two major categories with one of them being album of the year. He’d be shitting himself too if he was going up against other talented singers. You’re gonna win though, you have to and if you don’t he’ll fight them to recount the votes.
“Easy baby,” he whispers low, “you got this okay?”
“I know but what if I lose?” You purse your lips, “I did really well this year so I’m hoping maybe that I do win.” Jungkook doesn’t like how sad and worried you look right now.
“If you don’t win I’ll buy the fucking thing.” Jungkook snorts, “No one had the highest record sales and streams like you did baby, you basically have this in the bag and everyone knows it.”
You huff out a laugh and look at him in disbelief, “Jungkook you can buy me all the things you want but you’re not buying me an award. Don’t be ludicrous.”
He shrugs carelessly, “I won’t if they just give it to you.” He says seriously as he leans over to kiss your cheek, “I believe in you no matter what.” You look at him with a precious smile and turn your attention back to the show.
Performance after performance passes until soon they’re announcing the winner for album of the year. You didn’t win the other category but Jungkook knows for sure you’ll win the next one. He can feel you nervously bouncing your knee and gripping his hand extra tight while the presenter takes their sweet time opening the envelope.
“And the award goes to,” pause, “y/n!” The crowd erupts into loud screams and cheers, hell Jungkook yells out as he looks at you with glee and helps you stand up.
“You won baby!” Jungkook hugs you tightly as he sways side to side, “So fuckin’ proud of you.”
You happily laugh and bury your face in his neck, “I was so scared, oh my god.” You accept his hand as he helps you step up on stage so you could get your award. He stands back filled with pride as he watches you stride with confidence towards the main stage, walking past all these other people he could care less about.
After the show Jungkook’s surprised you choose to go back to the hotel instead of the afterparty some other singer invites you guys to. He doesn’t protest because he’s been dying to get away from all these people all night (you reprimanded him for suggesting that you guys leave right after you get your win). He walks hand in hand with you, smug as fuck because his girl bagged album of the year, just like he knew you would.
“Smile,” Jungkook holds his phone up, the flash going off as he hears you complain about not being ready, “you look fine, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snorts and shows you the picture he took.
You shoot him a pouty frown and take his phone, “Delete it I look bad,” you huff, “you better take a better one.”
“Whatever you say princess.” Jungkook takes a series of photos for your Instagram and his, you look so pretty in each one he takes, it’s disgusting how much he’s obsessing over them, “Damn you look sexy.”
“I always do, thank you very much.” You huff and sit back in your seat, enjoying the rest of the ride back.
Jungkook’s immediately on you when the two of you get to the hotel. He’s been wanting to pick up where you two left off earlier before your manager interrupted. If it was up to him you two wouldn’t have even gone to the damn show, he’s been dying to get you out of the dress the minute he saw you in it.
“Jungkook wait–mmph,” you’re cut off as he slips his lips over yours, his hands coming up to cup your face as he swallows your lips in a passionate-hungry kiss.
“Can’t,” Jungkook whispers, “been waiting all night baby.” He reaches behind you to push the door open, kicking it open all the way as he tugs you close and walks you backwards into the room.
“Moment I laid eyes on you I was gone, knew I had to have you.” Jungkook whispers as he leans down to bury his face in your shoulder and neck leaving a flurry of hot kisses all over, “Wanted to rip this shit off you.” He growls softly.
You whined in protest, body falling backwards when the back of your knees hit the lush bed, “Not my dress–”
“I’ll buy another—hundreds baby, don’t you know who your man is?” Jungkook smirks as he climbs over you, “Can I take it off you baby?” He knows he’s being a bit too eager right now, so naturally he wants to make sure you’re both on the same page.
“Yeah.” You softly breathe out, “I want you to take it off,” you trail off looking at him with those siren eyes, “make me yours.” You say as you let the strap of the dress slip off your shoulder invitingly.
Jungkook swallows hard, hands itching and trembling with excitement as he reaches up to pull the other strap, “You already are.” He muses.
“All the way,” you intertwine your hand with his with a precious little smile on your face, “want everyone to know who my man is.”
Fuck. Jungkook bites down on his lip and nods, “You want them to see my marks, want everyone to know who’s fucking you good?” He purrs and leans down to hover over you, lips against lips.
You nod with a cute ‘mmhm’, “I want it all, you promised you’d give it to me.” You softly pout, “Or was that a lie?”
“Fuck no, take it baby, ‘s all yours.” Jungkook hurriedly unbuttons his dress shirt, hastily throwing his belt off and peeling his slacks off, “Gonna give you exactly what you need till you can’t take it.” He says as he reaches for the zipper to the dress.
He all but rips the thing off of you and tosses it to the corner of the room (mind you it’s worth over twenty thousand). It’s the first time seeing you like this under him and he wants to make it special for you, a night you’ll never forget.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful baby.” He comments as he leans down to leave a trail of kisses along your chest and tummy,slowly slipping down the bed as he inches towards your panty covered pussy.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, been thinking about all the ways I could have you,” he whispers and lays a kiss over your damp folds, “I didn’t know if I wanted to lay you on my bed or bend you over the car—you make it so hard to control myself, you have no idea.”
He sees the little tremor that passes over you when he says this. Your eyes are filled with want and need but like the stubborn little thing you are, you don’t say anything. Jungkook can’t have that either, he wants—no needs—to hear your sweet little voice beg for him.
“What’s the matter baby? You need something?” Jungkook softly croons as he peppers soft kisses against your inner thighs.
You bite on your lip and nod, “Need you.”
“But you already have me?” He grins, he can see the frustration bubbling up on your face.
“Here,” you softly breathe and reach down to tug your panties upwards, the material digs into your cunt giving him a perfect outline of it, “won’t you give it to me?” Your voice pulls him in like a siren singing to a sailor, he’s so entranced by it he almost feels like he’s gonna drool right now.
Jungkook wastes no time in yanking the damp materials down your thighs, not bothering to slide them completely off as he lifts your legs up. They’re pressed together with your soft pussy lips pressed together for him, tempting him with a glob of shiny slick running down your soft asscheeks.
“Fuck,” Jungkook growls as he leans in to smother his face with your cunt, tongue slipping through your drenched dewy folds to lap up the globs of slick.
You kick your feet in the air with a tiny whine, hips wiggling in an attempt to get him on your clit. He laps at you messily, circling the tip of his tongue over your throbbing bud that’s squished between your folds. The moan you let out sends shivers down his spine and he’s eager to hear more.
“So fucking good,” he pants, “jus’ like I imagined pretty baby.” He slurs out, pussy drunk already.
He can feel you reaching down to tug your panties all the way off but he can’t be bothered with stopping, not when your cunt’s gushing for him. Jungkook licks with vigor, swiping over and over against your tender clit. Your cunt opens up beautifully with a low squelch and your thighs begin trembling under his strong hold.
It gets harder with each passing second to contain himself, his cock feels like it’s literally about to burst. He pulls away from you and lets your shaky legs fall back as he tears your panties off completely.
“Gonna fuck you so good baby,” he climbs over you and reaches down to pull his heavy cock out, “can’t wait anymore.”
Your legs easily fall apart for him and make room as he shuffles closer between them. Jungkook sees the way your eyes go dark when they land below between his legs where his cock hangs heavy, swollen at the tip with beady trails of precum oozing from the head. You lick your lips and reach down to grip him in your soft hand, tentatively squeezing and stroking as if you were feeling him up.
“Like it baby? Gonna have my fat cock fill this little pussy up?” Jungkook has a sleazy grin splayed over his lips as he watches you, “Hm?”
“Yeah, ‘m not gonna let you cum anywhere but inside,” you deviously smile back like the nasty little minx you are, “till it’s dripping.”
He groans at the thought of that and kicks his hips forward, “Lemme in baby,” he slurs out, “slip it right in for me, there you go.” He purrs when he feels the head slide over your messy pussy, smearing your slick and his precum all over your cunt before you’re guiding him towards your winking sopping hole.
You bite down on your lip when the tip catches against your rim, it pops inside feeling you inch for inch slowly—cockhead spreading you open until he’s fully seated in your tight cunt. He can’t help but bite his lip with the way you’re squeezing him so tight—so snug and warm.
“So nice ‘n warm for me,” he hoarsely says as he rubs his hands along your sides, gently squeezing at your hips as he pulls you closer until your pelvis is smacked tight against his own.
You let out the most sinful fucking moan ever when his cock slides deeper. Back arching and toes curling—he just loves how beautiful you look spread out under him with your pretty pussy snug against his cock. You release a stuttered moan as you reach for his hands and squeeze tightly.
“Hurts a little,” you say through gritted teeth, “why the fuck are you so fucking big?”
Jungkook nearly laughs at that because he doesn’t think he’s ever heard that many curse words leave your mouth before. “You want me to pull out?”
“No don’t you dare,” you glare, “took me a minute to get this thing in and you want me to do it all over again?”
Jungkook looks back down with a low whistle, “Little pussy looks like it’s struggling to keep me all in baby, you sure you can handle it?” He teases as he reaches down to flick his thumb over your swollen clit.
Your hips jump and you whine out for him, “Stop playing around Jungkook,” you turn to hide your face in the soft sheets, “you know I can.” You mumble softly, eyes half-lidded with pleasure.
Jungkook bites down on his lip and rolls his hips slowly, “I know, you were made for this dick.” He smirks and lazily flicks his thumb pairing it with his slow but deep thrusts.
Your moans come out soft and breathy, everytime he backstrokes there’s a light sheen of slick covering his cock from the base near his pelvis. Your cunt makes these adorable little squelching noises as he pushes back in, balls lightly pressing against your taint when he buries himself back in. Occasionally he stops for a few seconds before he resumes his lazy pace.
He never imagined it’d feel this good with you, something about the way your little pussy refuses to let go for even a moment—squeezing him so tight it’s almost impossible to move. His own noises come out soft and husky, he can’t help the moans and soft sighs he lets out from the hot pleasure coiling in his stomach.
“Baby,” he gasps as he leans forward to hover over you with hands on either side of you, “this good?” He asks as he steadily increases the pace in his thrusts, hips smacking wetly against your ass and balls swinging now.
You nod eagerly, “More than good—mm, jus’ like that,” you sound blissed out, gaze half-lidded and dreamy as you stare up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.
“Like that?” He groans, “Or like this?” Suddenly Jungkook snaps his hips up, a loud smack filling the room alongside a warbled cry of his name, “Oh you like that, don’t you? Baby likes it rough?” He purrs.
The slide’s fucking nasty with a mix of precum and your slick, he feels it slide down your taint where his balls slap repeatedly. The noise is filthy and sends pleasant tremors down his spine, “Oh, fuck,” he groans softly, “doing so good for me.”
Jungkook begins moving earnestly now, slamming his cock in and out of your bruised and battered cunt. Slick spills everywhere—the sheets, your inner thighs, his pelvis—it’s like music to his fucking ears right now. He can’t resist and leans down to smother your lips with his, swallowing every little cry and moan you let out.
Your arms come up to wrap around his neck as you hold on tightly, he reaches down to wrap a leg around his waist as he manages to slide in deeper with the tip brushing over your g-spot. You let out a loud cry into his mouth and bury your fingers in his hair, your thigh starts trembling again only this time more intense than before.
“You gonna cum for me baby?” He pulls away with a moan, “C’mon, be a good girl and make it messy.” He purrs against your lips while watching your expressions closely.
You stare into his eyes with unshed tears as more whimpers and whines escape, “So close,” you manage to wrap another shaky leg around him, “please, please, ‘m so close.” You whine out as your legs cross behind him on his back.
Jungkook doesn’t wanna disappoint or hold out any longer as he manages to stick a hand down between you to roll your clit between his fingers, “Cum for me, give it to me baby.” He growls softly as he plows into your tender and sore cunt.
The squelching gets louder and your moans turn into weak whimpers as you lie there and take it. His cock stirs at the sight of you nearing your end, he decides to give you a little extra push as he meanly pinches your clit. This causes you to cry out and go stiff under him, body shaking like a leaf as you gush around his cock.
“Jungkook,” you gasp repeatedly as your eyes flutter shut, face pinched in pleasure and overstimulation, “so good.” You slur out.
Jungkook lets your tender clit go and focuses on his own pleasure now that he’s got your orgasm out of the way. He grunts quietly and buries his face against your soft tits, mouthing at your sore stiff nipples. You squeeze around him tighter and tighter until the coil in his stomach snaps and he lets out a long moan of your name.
“Fuck..” Jungkook whispers breathlessly as he presses your pelvises close together, burying his cock balls deep till every last drop’s inside your battered pussy.
You moan quietly and let your legs fall from his hips, limbs feeling like jelly as you lay there panting softly. Jungkook rests his forehead against your tit and sighs deeply, “Are you okay love?” He asks softly.
“Yeah, jus’ really tired.” You whisper hoarsely and close your eyes, “Fuck, no offense but I feel really gross right now. Start a bath for me, pretty please?” You softly ask with a lip jutted out in a pout.
Jungkook of course can’t say no, “Course,” he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and lifts himself off of you, “I’ll be back.”
𓂃 ゚。 ⋆
Your company’s the first to make a statement confirming what everybody already knew, and then Yoongi followed shortly after. If Jungkook had thought it was bad before, people went ape shit now that it’s been officially confirmed by you two.
Before, they put all the heat on Jungkook because it was easier to blame him for it given the public’s opinion about him. It was easier to blame him because why not? He was some low-life boxer in their eyes. But then the attention shifted and people started targeting their hate towards you which pissed Jungkook off to no end.
Why the fuck was everyone so invested in what you did and didn’t do? Why was it that they felt entitled to dictate who you date and don’t date? Jungkook really needed these people to get jobs or mind their business because clearly they had no life outside of hating on a stranger for finding their own happiness.
He saw those vicious comments people left all over your posts and he fucking hated that he couldn’t do shit to stop them from coming back, pissed him off even more because his girlfriend didn’t deserve this. You deserved the world and more, not this shit.
So, Jungkook did the next best thing he could think of. He started taking names and screenshotting profiles before turning them over to a attorney he hired, if he couldn’t beat these stupid fuckers himself he’d let them have it with his private team. He made headlines after people started noticing that he was suing the people opening their big ass mouths.
“Baby, it’s okay really.” You softly complain, “You don’t have to waste your time with these weird people, I’m sure they’ll get over themselves if we ignore them.”
Jungkook shakes his head, “No, I’m sorry baby but I can’t sit there and watch these fuckers call you degrading names and demand shit like they know you—seriously who the fuck do these people think they are?” He growls under his breath as he paces back and forth, “And that’s not even the gist of it, these idiots are lucky I don’t catch them out in public because I’ll beat the fuck out of them.”
Out of the corner of his eye he sees you curl up on the sofa with a sad smile, “I know, but you can’t go around beating up millions of people for leaving a hate comment. It’s normal, this happens all the time I learned to live with it.” You’re trying to sound sure of yourself but he doesn’t buy it.
“Baby look at me.” He comes over and kneels down in front of you, “This shit is not normal nor is it ever okay, fuck them for making you feel like this. I hate seeing you look so dejected reading all those hateful comments,” he takes your hands in his and kisses them, “just lemme take care of it. Please?”
You look conflicted like you’re not sure if you should say yes but with a little more coaxing you finally sigh, “Fineee, just don’t do anything crazy. I don’t need my boyfriend in jail, thank you very much.”
Jungkook cracks a smile and buries his face in your lap with a happy sigh, “I promise baby, if I go to jail, who else is gonna cook you fried rice at three in the morning? Who else is gonna give you their black card?” He teases.
“Yeah, yeah now come here.” You open your arms for him, “You know I only need you and that’s all.”
Jungkook kisses that soft pout off your face as he nods, “I know you do baby, didn’t think otherwise.” He grins and lays his head on your chest with closed eyes.
The two of you sit there in silence together with the TV playing low in the background. Jungkook for the most part behaves himself despite being so close to your soft tits that are poorly hidden under your camisole. He can literally dip his head in there and get a sneak peek, maybe even a mouthful of titties—
“Jungkook, really?” You sigh, “You’re such a pervert.”
“You like it,” Jungkook winks as he mouths at your tit through your little camisole, “can I?” He knows you can’t resist and judging by the way your thighs press together, “Pretty pleaseee baby?” He gives you the best puppy eyes he can muster, all a man wants is some titty loving, that’s all.
You don’t even finish saying yes before he’s diving in and tugging your camisole down so that your tits spill out and into his face. His eyes light up and he immediately wraps his lips around a nipple, suckling gently as he laves his tongue over the stiff bud in his mouth. You quietly sigh and sink into the sofa with him following as he rolls his tongue over your nipple and flicks it repeatedly.
“You’re such a baby you know that?” You murmur, “But you’re my handsome bun,” the nickname has him perking up, “my strong, big, handsome bun.” You coo softly while stroking his hair slowly.
Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the warm feeling, his sucking slows down until he’s barely moving his tongue anymore and simply suckling on your teat. “You like hearing how strong you are don’t you baby—love knowing you can easily beat someone’s ass for me?”
He nods pathetically with a low groan, “Of course you do,” you softly coo, “it’s why I picked you, knew you’d be able to take care of me the way I deserve.” You scratch his scalp lightly, moaning softly when he makes another noise, “Treat me so good like the princess I am.”
That he does. Jungkook is in heaven right now, he feels like he can just pass out right here and now with a titty in his mouth. He can’t help but shudder as he slips into a dream-like state, “Go ahead baby, just rest yeah? I got you.” You softly say while cradling his head and going lax under him, “Take what you need.”
And he does. He ends up falling asleep, one of the best fucking naps ever with your tit still in his mouth even when he wakes up. He so needs to do this another time, shit’s relaxing and a good stress reliever. Jungkook doesn’t think you’ll have any complaints either.
.
It’s a busy week for Jungkook because he has a match coming up in a few weeks and Yoongi has him completely locking in at the gym for training. You don’t mind it and being the best girlfriend you are you come as support during his sessions. You also confirmed his suspicions that Seokjin was a secret stan because his hyung fanboys out when he meets you.
“Hyung stop it.” Jungkook glares, “Leave her alone before I punch you.”
Seokjin scoffs, “No way, I get to meet my idol and you wanna ruin it for me? Where’s my respect, you brat.” This guy—needless to say Jungkook’s shooting daggers at his hyung the entire time he’s there.
The real challenge comes during the press conference/weigh-in Jungkook goes to like he always does. It starts off normal, the guy doesn’t trash talk and Jungkook’s not one for it either unless the fighter’s cocky then yeah he’ll put them in their place but this guy’s alright which he appreciates. It’s the fucking reporters that get Jungkook heated sometimes.
“Jeon, how do you feel about this upcoming match? Any thoughts on your opponent?” One asks with his recorder held out.
“I’m excited like always, I know potential when I see it so I’m hoping to have a great match with my opponent. He looks like he can give me a run for my money.” He laughs softly into the mic.
Another reporter asks something but it’s directed at his opponent so Jungkook just nods off listening to the two. Out of the corner of his eye he sees someone laughing when he looks at him, and at first he doesn’t pay attention and just keeps his focus on the reporters. But then this guy comes to the front and Jungkook just knows he’s about to hear the stupidest shit in his life.
“Jeon, so how are you and your girl doing? Heard the news and wanted to congratulate you.” He says with this sleazy grin.
It rubs him the wrong way but Jungkook keeps his temper in check as he forces himself to politely answer, “Good, thank you.” He curtly replies.
He hears Yoongi clear his throat next to him with a fierce glare, “Let’s try and keep this about the match, he's not here to answer questions about his life, this isn’t a personal interview.”
You’d think that after being called out like that he’d stop there and move on but no, this guy’s a piece of work. “I mean I was just askin’ cause I was kinda surprised with the news since you know, she been ran through by the entire industry.” This gets Jungkook to react as he pushes his chair back, causing it to fly backwards as he slowly stalks forward.
“New guy every month—say, you the new boy of the month Jeon?” He smirks.
Jungkook doesn’t even think before he lunges at him, he hears Yoongi call his name as Namjoon springs into action to get Jungkook back but it’s too late.
Jungkook’s fist connects with the side of this man’s jaw and sends him flying to the ground as Jungkook lifts his (now) bloody fist up to strike him again with a sick sound. He’s so far gone right now he doesn’t even feel when Namjoon yanks him off the guy.
“Jungkook! Calm the fuck down and get off him!” Namjoon yells through the chaos as reporters scramble to get shots and videos of this.
“No, get off me hyung! Let me fuckin’ go where is this little shit? If you’re such a fuckin’ man come say it to my face one more fucking time, I dare you! Say it!” He yells as he struggles against Namjoon’s strong hold.
It takes three guys to get Jungkook away from the reporter, Yoongi deals with the rest but Jungkook’s so fucking mad he can’t even sit right now. He’s pacing back and forth in the little backroom they got him in as Namjoon watches with concern in his eyes. He hasn’t tried to calm him down because even he knows the danger of trying to talk to him while he’s this mad.
The door slams open and Yoongi steps in, “Jungkook what the fuck was that?! That guy went to the hospital, do you even realize the mess you caused? He’s gonna press charges–”
“I don’t give a fuck!” Jungkook interrupts, stunning Yoongi into silence, “He fucking disrespected my girlfriend thinking that shit was funny. I could really give two fucks if he wants to press charges or not!” Namjoon watches the two in silence, but he’s ready to jump in if Jungkook turns on Yoongi or something.
Yoongi, who usually has something smart to say for everything, for once doesn’t have shit to say. He just stands there watching Jungkook kick the chair over and pace around the room furiously. “Kid, look, I get you. I would do the same too if I was in your place but this shit isn’t worth it. You can’t be letting them get to you like this, that’s what they want.”
“Well he fucking got what he wanted.” Jungkook scoffs with a humorless laugh.
“Just go home, I’ll deal with the press.” Yoongi sighs as he rubs his temples, “Please, for once just do what I say.”
The news is bad, there’s a shit ton of articles coming out within the next hour about how Jungkook attacked the reporter and left him a bloody puddle on the ground. It’s all over the place and there’s a shit ton of people commenting about it on online forums and comment sections. One side praises him for defending you, and then the other criticizes his inability to keep himself under control but Jungkook doesn’t care.
The REAL cherry on top is when you post your response to the news—you use that video of Latto saying “thank you to my man” along with a cute selfie of you cuddled up in bed with Jungkook. Even you made it clear as day you didn’t give a fuck about that guy either.
Your fans who had previously had negative reactions to your dating news were coming around too in favor of Jungkook. They said shit like “free JK he did nothing wrong” and voiced their support for him. Some were even harassing the reporter who had dared to say those things about you, demanding that he lose credibility as a reporter amongst other things.
Jungkook thinks it’s going to be okay because that guy totally fucking deserved it (and more).
.
The weeks fly by and the day of his big match comes—the biggest one yet because bets are high and on top of that Jungkook has a winning streak to keep up if he wants them to give him the title of “undefeated”. Following the conference nothing really happened, the guy turned out to have some shady shit on him so he decided not to press any charges in the end. God bless Yoongi for digging shit up.
With that being dealt with Jungkook could finally put his entire focus on the match. He had heard the entire arena sold out and some of the richest people on earth were attending. This was a huge deal and he had everything to lose. Jungkook was confident in his win but this guy was also the deal too, which only means Jungkook has to keep his guard up.
“You ready kid? This is about to be the biggest fight of your career.” Yoongi says as he comes to sit in front of Jungkook, “You’re gonna have to kick it up a notch this match, the guy’s good but he isn’t better than you.”
He nods at that because Jungkook’s confident in his fighting abilities, “I know hyung, I have a really good feeling about tonight.” He smiles, “Don’t worry about it, I got this under control.”
“Good, that’s what I like to hear from you.” Yoongi grins back as he pats his back, “Now get out there and make me proud.”
The arena buzzes with life when Jungkook enters the room, he’s hit with flashing lights in every direction as people scream and chant his name. He’s getting worked up again as the adrenaline slowly kicks in. Jungkook makes his way up to the ring, passing over your section where you’re sitting with Namjoon and Seokjin.
He closes his eyes for a brief moment, blocking out the crowd and music as he tries to focus. He can do this, he can do this. He will win, for you.
The guy packs a good punch and each round gets progressively harder and harder to fight him off. During one of the breaks in-between the rounds, he slumps into his corner as Yoongi immediately springs over to help him with his mouth guard.
“He’s tiring you out Kook, he’s gonna wait until you’re low on energy to give it his all.” Yoongi warns, “You need to match his pace instead of wasting your energy so early.”
Jungkook pants tiredly as he shakes his head, “Hyung he’s gonna knock me out.” He says deliriously, filled with pain and adrenaline.
“No he isn’t, because you’re not going to let him, you hear me? You’re going to get back out there and show that punk what you’re made of.” Yoongi sternly replies, “Do it for the pretty girl waiting for your win.”
Jungkook’s eyes snap over to where you sit, you look really scared and on top of that worried. He sees the way your knee bounces and how you pick at your fingernails. This isn’t what he wants to see.. This isn’t what he wants at all.
“Okay.” Jungkook grunts with renewed energy, “Fuck, okay.”
Yoongi pats his back gently and steps away from the ring, “Remember: match his pace.”
Jungkook rises to his feet and gets ready for the next round. He only has a few more before a winner has to be announced or the match is tied. Only one of them will walk out a champion, and it’s going to be him.
He takes Yoongi’s advice and matches this guy’s pace, he observes his every move and studies the combos he throws out. The guy’s a corner tech type so Jungkook avoids the edges and keeps him in the middle. He also notices that he goes for uppercuts and rear hooks.
As Jungkook prepares to strike he loses his footing and the guy takes the chance to hook him across the face. It sends Jungkook to the ground as he falls with a groan of pain. “Fuck.” He whispers.
He’s not sure how much longer he can keep up, can he even get up? His vision is beginning to blur a little and his hearing’s a little hazy too. He barely even makes out the referee counting down to a knockout.
Through the blurriness he sees Yoongi run over to the side of the net, “Get up, kid! Fuck, c’mon Jungkook get up!” He desperately says.
Jungkook wants to, but everything hurts so much and he’s so tired right now. He weakly tries to get up, barely managing to hold up on all fours as he pants heavily with blood dripping down onto the mat below. He lifts his head up slowly and suddenly the world stops.
You’re standing there with tears in your eyes, your mouth’s moving rapidly (most likely pleading with him to get up). Jungkook doesn’t like that, he swore he’d never let you feel that way again after you attended his first match and saw how bad it was. Fuck.
“Four…three..”
Get up. Get up. Get up. Get up.
Jungkook grits his teeth and stumbles forward, barely managing to catch himself on the nets as he looks back at his opponent with renewed strength. The countdown stops and the match continues, he is going to win this if that’s the last thing he does.
He lunges forward and the guy doesn’t expect it coming as Jungkook manages to get him cornered before he lets loose. He rains a slew of punches, too fast for the guy to keep up who doesn’t expect him to suddenly be this fast.
Jungkook feels like he blacks out during all this, landing hit after hit until he’s finished with one last uppercut and then everything stops. He feels a pair of hands pull him back as the referee begins the countdown. Jungkook stands there heaving as he watches tiredly.
“..Two..one..” The bell suddenly rings and the crowd cheers.
He did it. Holy shit, he did it!
Both Yoongi and Namjoon rush into the ring together, bringing him into their arms as they jump with joy. “You fucking did it!” Namjoon smiles happily.
“Where’s…where’s y/n?” Jungkook blearily asks as he looks around.
“She’s right there,” Yoongi points out, “she’s still here Kook.”
He pulls away from the hug and trudges over to the net, holding it up and holding his arm out for you, “C’mere baby.” He calls out.
You immediately stumble over and climb into the ring with him, sinking right into his arms when he tugs you close. “I’m here,” he whispers, “I’m here.”
“Don’t ever scare me like that again! You hear me? I don’t ever wanna see you like that.” You whimper and cup his face, “Oh Jungkook..”
He smiles softly and leans down to kiss you passionately in front of everyone. You easily melt into the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck. When he pulls back he looks around with a stupid grin on his face, “Fucking won but everything hurts.”
You frown cutely and ignore the reporters that begin to swarm the two of you. Jungkook keeps you tucked into his side as he answers their questions, “Feels really good I can’t lie, even if I feel like shit right now though. But I’m just glad I won, I've been wanting to dedicate this win to my beautiful girl.” He smiles down at you and kisses the top of your head.
They start throwing more questions at him after that. They’re all kind of the same regarding their relationship because they’re just dying to know all about his relationship to you. They even try to ask you some questions but luckily Yoongi intervenes when it begins to get out of control.
“Alright back up, give Jungkook some space.” Yoongi says as he pushes some reporters away, “You ready to go Kook?”
“Yeah, get me the fuck outta here.” Jungkook groans as he follows after his hyungs with you close by.
Yoongi and the others help Jungkook get into an ice bath as soon as they get into the back room. You work on cleaning the blood off his face and icing his wounds, “Does it hurt? Well, more than usual?” You softly ask.
“No babe I’m fine.” Jungkook replied calmly as he closed his eyes, “The ice feels really good, I’m sore all over.”
You hum, “Let me know if I’m hurting you.”
“I will.” He hums back and sinks into the ice with a relaxed sigh.
The cold sensation on his body is working wonders on his sore muscles. It feels like he’s living the dream right now. He doesn’t think he wants to even party after this, sure a big win calls for a celebratory dinner or something but right now cuddling and going to sleep sounds way better.
Yeah, way better.
.
“I thought you were too sore to do anything, what happened to that?” You laugh softly while looking down at him.
Jungkook’s pout deepens, “I can still move my hips, see?” He says and demonstrates with a little thrust up, “Pleaseeee! For me baby? I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts or something.”
You look at him in disbelief, “You literally just got beat up what do you mean please? Look at you! Why the heck is sex even on your mind right now?”
“Because, you looked so sexy on that billboard on our way back here.” He huffs casually leaving out the part where he raged because everyone can see you and no doubt millions have.
Not that he’s petty but he’s petty, he wanted to tear that shit down and keep it for himself. “That’s not the point,” he groans and tosses his head back on the pillow, “I can still move and it’s not like my cock got beat up too.”
“You are so nasty.” You laugh softly and sit back on his lap, “If I ride you will that make you happy, hm?”
It’s comical the way his hair bounces when he nods vigorously, “Yes.” He says without hesitation, “It’s like a reward.” He grins toothily.
You roll your eyes at him with a sigh, “You’re so spoiled,” you mumble while reaching down to help him pull his boxers down.
“Wait!” Jungkook looks up at you with pouty eyes, “Can you..?” He tugs at the loose shirt you’re wearing.
Immediately you know what he wants and you nod, “My baby deserves it doesn’t he?” You softly say while tossing the garment somewhere else, “Did so good out there,” you purr and lean over him.
His eyes sparkle as he nods, “I did,” he whispers and licks his lips, “means I get a reward right?”
“Yes you do.” You gently coax him closer as you lean down to press your soft tit to his lips, “Take it, ‘s all yours.” He latches on without wasting another second.
Your lips part as a soft breathy moan escapes, your soft hand reaches down to fish his hard cock out of his boxers. He shudders when you start stroking him, it’s slow and sensual as you gather bits of precum with your thumb and slowly work your way down around the shaft.
His balls sit heavy and they ache with need to empty themselves in you. Jungkook has to fight the urge to buck his hips as he accidentally grazes his teeth against your bud.
You yelp softly and he pulls away apologetically, “Easy, not so hard.” You softly chastise.
“Sorry.” Jungkook murmurs and presses a kiss on your tit before moving to the opposite one.
“Just sit back and relax baby,” you murmur, “I got you.”
You position the head at your weeping pussy, slapping it repeatedly in small taps until the tip catches on your hole. Jungkook holds his breath as you begin to slide down on his sensitive cock until you're bottoming out with your ass meeting his thighs.
“Good?” You softly whisper.
Jungkook nods and goes back to suckling on your nipple in peace. You rock yourself in his lap steadily like you’re scared you’re gonna hurt him but Jungkook encourages you with a little buck. This makes you sink down in his lap with a lewd moan, his cock shifting deeper inside.
“Use me,” Jungkook quietly pipes up, “I can take it.” His breath hot and heavy over your pebbled nipple.
“You sure? What if I hurt you?” You murmur.
“I’ll be fine baby, I’ll let you know if something hurts. Please?” He opens his mouth to take your nipple back in.
You shiver and bite your lip still a bit worried but you end up giving in. You slowly pick up the pace, switching from grinding to bouncing. There’s a low smack here and there but it’s nothing too crazy because you’re going as gentle as you can.
Jungkook’s lips tighten around your nipple with every grind and bounce. Your pussy tugs at his cock with the right amount of pressure sending shivers down his spine. He moans softly and moves one hand up to grip your bouncing tit.
“Fuck you look good like this,” he breathes out in pleasure.
You groan softly as he squeezes your tit in his strong hand, massaging the soft mound of flesh afterwards. He pulls away to push both tits together and buries his face between them with a happy sigh, “Never wanna leave, I could die a happy man like this sweetheart.”
“You’re just a perv.” You chuckle with a moan.
“For you.” Jungkook grins and then lays back, “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already.” He notices that your bouncing has slowed down.
You glare cutely at him and sit up, “I don’t like doing the work in case you haven’t noticed.” You mumble while grinding back and forth over his cock, “You’re lucky I love you enough to do this.”
His eyes widen when he hears the words “love” and “you” in one sentence. It makes his sappy little heart beat with joy and pride hearing those words leave your lips, he can’t help but buck his hips upward eagerly.
“Jungkook..!” You gasp throwing your head back.
“Say it again baby,” he huffs as he uses his strong grip to haul you up and plop you back down on his lap, “I wanna hear it–” He cuts off with a breathy moan.
“I love you.” The words make him groan louder as he slaps his hips upward.
“Fuck I love you too,” he moans, “so, so fuckin’ much, you have no idea.” He whispers and looks up at you through hooded eyes.
You bite your lip hard and throw your head back with a whine, “ ‘m coming.” You whimper.
“Oh you like hearing that don’t you, knowing damn well that you got me wrapped around your fingers.” Jungkook huffs with exertion as he fucks into you harder.
“Y-Yes, love it so much knowing you’re mine,” you mewl softly and grind on him, “fuck, fuck..!” Your pussy clamps down and suddenly you’re coming all over him in slow waves of harsh pleasure.
Jungkook pulls you down for a passionate kiss as he holds you down against his pelvis. A few more rolls has him coming too, cock throbbing and twitching. He lays there panting heavily with hazy eyes while you whine about him being careful.
“Don’t put pressure on your side,” you grumble, “I told you we shouldn’t have fooled around.”
“I’m fine, see? Nothing’s wrong.” Jungkook laughs and delivers a sharp smack to your ass, “Now tell me you love me again. Wanna hear it from your pretty lips.” He mumbles and traces over your bottom lip.
“I love you.” You fondly sigh.
“Again.”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“You’re so annoying! I’m going to shower.” You huff and stomp off with cum leaking down your inner thighs.
Jungkook lays there with a soft grin as he watches you go, “Yeah, yeah, I love you too though.” Forever.
And ever.
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sonarspace · 3 months ago
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NO NUT NOVEMBER ?
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꒰ synopsis. no nut november or nut november. who knows.. ft. sukuna. choso. nanami. toji. geto. gojo. (separate) warnings. thigh riding. tittyfūcking. chōking. slightly rough sėx. unprōtected. 69. öral. a/n. back again (maybe).. hope you all have a wonderful week!
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✧ SUKUNA
it’s only been four days, and sukuna’s already scoffing at the whole idea of no nut november. ridiculous, he thinks. restraint has never been an issue for him—especially not with you. but tonight, with the way you’re straddling his lap, that teasing glint in your eyes, he feels the beginnings of a crack.
you’re barely moving, just a subtle shift of your hips as you sit on his throne, looking every bit like you belong there. his gaze hardens, watching as you lean in close, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest. even as he fights it, his breathing hitches, his grip on your hips tightening.
“you’re really gonna test me like this?” he murmurs, voice low and dangerous. there’s a smirk on his face, but it’s more forced than usual, as if he’s already starting to lose his grip.
“oh, i’m sorry—is this getting to you?” you whisper, voice soft, teasing, that wicked little smirk of yours barely hidden.
his jaw clenches, and you see that familiar spark in his eyes. “you think you’re funny, don’t you?” he mutters, tone dark. “testing me, here, of all places.” there’s a slight growl in his voice, but you can tell he’s barely holding it together.
he lets out a low growl, and without breaking eye contact, his voice sharpens as he commands, “out. all of you.” the quiet shuffle of footsteps fades quickly as the doors shut, leaving the room silent and thick with tension.
the second you’re alone, his hands are on you, pulling you closer, his lips hovering just over yours as he growls, “now… let’s see how long that attitude lasts.”
one of his hands drifts up, finding the tie of your robe and giving it a slow, deliberate tug. the fabric slips loose, sliding off your shoulders, and he watches with a dark gleam in his eyes as it falls to the base of the throne, leaving you completely exposed to him.
“you wanted my attention, huh?” he murmurs, his voice a low, dangerous whisper against your ear. “well, now you’ve got it.”
he pulls you up, positioning himself, and with one powerful thrust, he’s inside you, filling you completely. a shiver runs through him, and his smirk returns, fierce and possessive as his hands move to grip your hips, holding you steady. “don’t think for a second you’re in control,” he mutters, his gaze fierce, unrelenting.
he leans in close, his lips brushing your neck as he begins to move, each thrust rougher, deeper, driving him further from the restraint he swore he’d keep. “you feel that?” he growls, his voice barely more than a whisper. “that’s me claiming every part of you… reminding you who you belong to.”
his hands tighten on your hips, guiding you to meet his rhythm, his breath hot against your skin as he loses himself in the moment. the intensity in his gaze is almost overwhelming, his usual confidence giving way to something darker, something that borders on need as he pulls you closer, deeper.
“look at me,” he demands, his voice low, ragged. “i want to see the way you fall apart. just like this… just for me.”
you lock eyes with him, the intensity of his gaze almost overwhelming, but you hold your ground, meeting him thrust for thrust. “sukuna,” you breathe out, barely a whisper, your voice catching on each of his movements.
“say it again,” he murmurs, his voice low, ragged, his usual control slipping. “say my name.”
when you do, a shiver runs through him, and his movements grow desperate, his grip bruising on your hips as he drives you both to the edge, each thrust more intense until he finally lets himself go, pulling you close as he shudders, his breath hot against your skin.
as he pulls back, chest heaving, there’s a satisfied smirk on his face, his gaze still dark and possessive. “don’t forget… you asked for this,” he murmurs.
but the glint in his eyes tells you he’s far from done.
✧ CHOSO
choso lasted exactly two weeks, longer than anyone expected—including himself. his quiet, focused nature kept him in control, but tonight, you can see his resolve wavering. he’s watching you as you get ready for bed, his gaze lingering as you slip your shirt off, his breath catching when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra.
his eyes widen, and a blush spreads across his cheeks as he tries to look away. “a-are you… doing this on purpose?” he stammers, voice barely above a whisper, struggling to keep his composure.
you step closer, a playful smile on your lips as you look at him, tilting your head. “is it working?”
he nods, swallowing hard, his gaze reluctantly drifting back to your chest. “i… yeah. it’s… it’s definitely working,” he admits, his voice soft, almost reverent.
you move in front of him, leaning close so he can see every inch, and his hands come up without thinking, fingers brushing over your skin. he lets out a soft, shaky breath as his hands settle on your boobs, his eyes filling with a raw, almost worshipful hunger as he strokes your skin, feeling the warmth beneath his fingers.
without even realizing it, he leans in, his face pressing into your chest, his lips brushing over your skin. his hands tremble as they slide over your boobs, and he lets out a quiet, desperate sound, his mouth pressing against your skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he loses himself completely.
his tongue flicks over your nipple, his breath hot and unsteady as he nuzzles deeper, barely holding himself together as he finally indulges in the softness he’s been craving. “so perfect…” he murmurs, voice barely more than a breath, as if he’s talking to himself.
you gently push him back, sinking down onto your knees, and his eyes flutter open, his breathing ragged as you help him out of his pants. he watches you, lips parted, as you wrap your hand around his length, guiding him toward your chest.
pressing the head of his cock against your nipple, you let him feel the warmth and softness, watching as his eyes go hazy, his lips parting in a soft moan. his hips jerk forward instinctively, grinding into your chest as his head falls back, completely lost in the sensation.
“oh… god,” he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath as you press him between your boobs, holding him there. his eyes roll back, a deep, unsteady moan slipping from his lips as he watches, entirely undone by the moment.
“does that feel good?” you murmur, and he nods frantically, his body trembling as he begins to move, each slide of his length sending a shiver through him, his hands gripping your shoulders as if he needs to hold on.
“yes… please, don’t stop,” he breathes, his voice filled with awe and need. “i… i can’t hold back,” he whispers, his gaze darkening with raw, desperate want.
“then don’t,” you reply, holding him close, guiding his movements as he lets out soft, needy sounds, his breathing growing more ragged with every slide, his whole body tensing as he loses control.
as he reaches his peak, his body shudders, and he lets go completely, painting your chest and stomach in white, his eyes widening as he gazes at you, breathless and in awe. he’s silent for a moment, taking in the sight of you, then, unable to stop himself, he gently pushes you back onto the floor, hovering over you as his hand trails down your body. his voice is low, almost pleading, as he whispers, “please… let me feel you. i need you.”
✧ NANAMI
nanami had lasted ten days into november, his natural discipline keeping him steady, even as you spent the morning testing his patience. during breakfast, you’d nudged his foot under the table, let your fingers brush his a little too long, your playful glances lingering. he brushed it off with his usual calm, but now, as you slip into his office just after his last meeting, he’s holding onto his control by a thread.
he looks up at you, his gaze lingering, something dark and intense flashing in his eyes. “come here for a minute,” he says, his voice steady, but with an edge that makes your pulse quicken.
you step closer, dressed in a soft, silk nightgown that flows against your skin, and before you can say a word, he catches your wrist, pulling you close. in one swift movement, he turns you around, pressing your wrists behind your back, his grip firm as he holds you in place. his breath is hot against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as he murmurs, “you’ve been testing me all day. and now… you’re going to see exactly what that gets you.”
he reaches for his belt, looping it around your wrists, securing them firmly, his fingers lingering just long enough to make you tremble. his other hand slides down, pressing you flat against the desk, the cool surface meeting your skin as he pushes the silk nightgown up over your hips. with one quick motion, he slips your underwear down, letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle.
you feel him press against you, his hand pressing into the small of your back as he positions himself. he takes a breath, and you feel the head of his cock brush against you, firm and thick, making you catch your breath. he guides himself in slowly, letting you feel every inch as he stretches you, filling you completely. a low, rough sound escapes his lips, and his hands tighten on your waist as he holds you there, his restraint unraveling with each second.
the desk creaks beneath you as he begins to move, his thrusts steady but intense, each one pressing you deeper against the hard surface. papers slip from the edge, fluttering to the floor as the table rocks beneath his rhythm, the soft creak and the shuffle of falling papers mingling with his ragged breathing.
“all day…” he mutters, voice strained, his hand gripping your waist with possessiveness . “you’ve been pushing me… testing my patience.” each word is punctuated by a deep thrust, the stretch leaving you breathless, his length filling you to the brim
his rhythm grows more desperate, his pace quickening as his control slips further, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, “you feel incredible.” his tone is low, rough, filled with raw need.
the sound of the desk creaking beneath you fills the room as he drives deeper, harder, the intensity building as he loses himself completely. his hand slides up, pressing firmly into your lower back as he pulls you closer, each thrust sending a shock of pleasure through you. “you have no idea how close i was,” he whispers, his voice barely more than a growl, “to doing this hours ago… right here.” his movements grow more urgent, his grip tightening as he lets out a low, guttural sound.
as he finally shudders, burying himself fully, he lets out a deep groan, his breathing ragged, his hand still pressing you down as he reaches his peak. even as he catches his breath, his grip on you lingers, fingers tracing over your skin as he glances at the scattered papers, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
before you can fully recover, he lifts you up effortlessly, carrying you toward the bedroom. his voice is low, a hint of mischief coloring his usual calm tone. “oh, we’re far from done,” he murmurs, as he sees the look of slight confusion your face. “i think it’s only fair that i tease and edge you, just like you’ve been doing to me for the past ten days.”
✧ TOJI
toji lasted one day. just one. patience was never his strong suit, and especially not with you. by the time you get home from work, he’s already at his breaking point, practically pacing, anticipation coiling tight as he’s waited to see you all day.
the second you walk through the door, he’s on you, gaze dark and hungry as it roams over you, taking in every inch like he can’t believe you’re finally here. “took you long enough,” he mutters, voice rough, barely restrained.
before you even get a word out, he closes the distance, hands grabbing onto you and pulling you close, his lips crashing into yours, all impatience and need. his hands roam down to your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes, and with one swift, impulsive motion, he grabs hold and tears it off, the sound of ripping fabric filling the room.
“toji!” you huff, exasperated at yet another ruined outfit, but he just chuckles, his smirk widening as he leans in, voice a low, teasing murmur. “shouldn’t have worn anything, then,” he mutters, his hands moving over your bare skin, possessive and rough.
he presses you back against the wall, his body pinning you there, heat radiating off him as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze lingering. he lips you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, and you feel the thick, hard length of him pressing into you, making your breath hitch.
you’re already soaked, your arousal slick between your thighs, and he wastes no time, lining himself up. in one powerful thrust, he pushes into you, filling you completely, and a low, rough groan slips from his lips as he feels you stretch around him. his cock is thick, stretching you just enough to leave you gasping, clutching onto him as he bottoms out.
the wall behind you creaks with every thrust as he sets a relentless pace, his cock sliding in and out of you, each movement making you slicker, the sound of your bodies joining filling the room. his hand slides up to your throat, fingers pressing just enough to keep you focused on him, grounding you as he takes you harder. the way he fills you has your walls fluttering around him, each thrust hitting deep, brushing spots that leave you gasping and clinging to him.
“one day…” he growls against your neck, voice rough and strained, his fingers tightening slightly around your throat, making you gasp. “that’s all i could last. one. damn. day.”
he thrusts harder, each movement more intense, your arousal coating him, easing his rough pace, his cock thick and heavy inside you. each time he pulls back and thrusts in again, you feel yourself tighten around him, your walls clenching with each push. “you feel so good… so tight around me. you’re gonna remember this every time you tease me, every single time.”
his breathing becomes uneven, his grip on your throat and waist tightening as he pulls you close, thrusting deep until he’s fully seated within you, pushing against your most sensitive spot. with one final, thrust, he pauses, buried as far as he can go, and you feel the thick head of his cock pressing against your most sensitive spot, making an indent as he holds you there.
he shudders, his hold on you tightening, and a deep groan slips from his lips as he finally lets go, his release spilling into you in waves. his cock twitches, pulsing with each spasm, savoring every second of how tightly you’re wrapped around him, his body tense, completely overwhelmed.
as he catches his breath, his hand slowly eases off your throat, and he pauses, his gaze softening as he notices the faint mark his fingers left. without a word, he leans in, pressing gentle, lingering kisses over the sensitive skin, his lips warm and tender against where he’d held you. his smirk is gone, replaced by a quieter satisfaction as he looks at you, voice low and soft. “next time…” he murmurs, “don’t make me wait. one day was already too damn long.”
✧ GETO
geto kept a calendar next to his bed, marking off each day of the month, like keeping count would somehow make it easier to get through. day 19 stared back at him, almost mocking him—no matter how many days he marked off, the restraint wasn’t getting any easier.
tonight, as you settled into his lap to watch a movie, pressing your weight into him, he could feel every shift of your hips and smell that soft, intoxicating scent that told him you were ovulating. his jaw tightened, fingers digging into the cushion as he tried to keep his breathing steady, fighting to hold his composure.
and then you whispered, low and pleading, “screw no nut november, suguru… i want you.”
his hand flexed against your hip, and he closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, trying to keep his calm. “it’s almost over,” he murmured, voice calm, though his eyes betrayed the struggle. “just a few more days. you can be patient.”
“please…” you murmured, voice breathless, pressing closer, testing every last bit of his resolve.
he shook his head, voice strained. “if you need it that badly… then get yourself off.” he positioned you over his lap, hands guiding you to straddle his thigh, pressing you down so you could feel the firm, sculpted muscle beneath you. his thigh flexed, the intricate snake tattoo winding down his leg, every line a reminder of him. but he stayed still, just watching, his gaze dark, waiting.
you pouted, shifting against him, letting out a frustrated huff. “i want you, not just this,” you murmured, grinding down against his thigh, your hands braced on his shoulders, fingers digging into him, trying to break through that last bit of control.
his breathing grew heavier, his gaze flickering down to where you moved against him, your arousal slick against his thigh. each roll of your hips tested his patience, the feeling of your heat soaking through his clothes, your soft whimpers as you tried to get closer.
“just a little longer,” he murmured, though his voice had a rough edge to it, the words catching in his throat. but the way you looked up at him, eyes pleading, breath coming faster, was enough to start cracking his resolve.
finally, he let his hands grip your hips firmly, holding you in place as he lifted you slightly, positioning you so he could slide beneath you. with a smirk, he shifted you, guiding you so you were hovering above his face, your legs on either side of him. “if you’re going to make me lose control,” he murmured, voice dark with intent, “then i’m going to make it worth it.”
before you could respond, he pulled you down, his mouth meeting your center, his tongue pressing flat against your clit, sending a shiver up your spine. he lingered there, savoring the taste of you, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles, making you gasp. his hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you exactly where he wanted, guiding you to move just enough to deepen the contact, his tongue slipping lower, teasing your entrance before sliding inside, his movements slow, unhurried, as he tasted you.
you couldn’t help but moan, your fingers tangling in his long hair, gripping tightly as he worked, his mouth and tongue relentless, flicking, tasting, his lips closing around your clit as he sucked gently, sending waves of pleasure through you. your walls pulsed around his tongue, each sensation building, making your grip on him tighten as you struggled to keep your balance, overwhelmed by the way he devoured you.
unable to resist, you shifted, turning so you could settle over his face fully, leaning down to free his cock, feeling the heavy, aching heat of him against your palm. he groaned into you as you wrapped your fingers around him, his cock flushed and hard, a deep shade that matched the warmth on his cheeks.
leaning forward, you took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling over the tip, tasting the salty hint of his arousal. his hips twitched beneath you, a low, muffled sound escaping him as his grip on your hips tightened, but his focus never wavered, his mouth and tongue working against you, your bodies moving in sync as you both gave in to each other completely.
✧ GOJO
it only took six days for gojo to break, though he’d never admit that it was because of you. every little brush of your fingers, every flirtatious smile—it was killing him. now, with him just back from a mission, that need has become almost painful, and he can’t hide it.
“you’re really going to make me keep waiting?” he asks, his voice low and playful but with a hint of something darker as he watches you, gaze intense.
you give him a teasing smile, taking a step back. “come on, satoru… it’s only been six days.”
he laughs, stepping closer, his smile turning into a smirk. “six days too many,” he murmurs, reaching out, his fingers brushing along your waist, pulling you in close. his lips hover near your ear, his voice a soft murmur. “haven’t you missed me?”
you feel a shiver run through you, but you keep your composure, smiling up at him. “maybe,” you tease, “but it is no nut november, you know..”
he chuckles, his grip on your waist tightening as he leans in, pressing his lips to your neck. “hmm, don't really care for it,” he murmurs, his mouth hot against your skin, his hands roaming over your body as he pulls you closer.
you try to keep up the teasing, but his touch is making it impossible to think. “satoru…” you whisper, your voice barely steady.
“yeah?” he breathes, his gaze darkening as he studies you, his blue eyes filled with that familiar glint. “why don’t you just say it? you want me just as much as i want you, don’t you?”
before you can answer, his lips crash against yours, all teasing replaced by a fierce urgency as he pulls you against him, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair, keeping you close. his kiss is deep, almost dizzying, as his fingers trail down, finding the hem of your shirt and tugging it off with a skillful ease.
he sits back onto the edge of the bed, taking you with him as he pulls you into his lap, his hands gripping your waist, guiding you to straddle him. he looks up, his eyes filled with that playful, almost wicked spark. “if we’re breaking rules,” he murmurs, “we might as well do it right.”
he presses you down, letting you feel him hard against you, and a soft, satisfied groan escapes his lips as he watches your reaction. his hands slide over your thighs, fingers pressing firmly into your skin as he tilts his head back, smirking. “see? this feels a lot better than no nut november, don’t you think?”
you roll your hips against him, feeling him throb beneath you, and his breath catches, his grip tightening as he lets out a low, ragged laugh. “you’re really going to make me work for this, aren’t you?” he murmurs, voice dropping.
without warning, he shifts, pulling you down so he can lean in, his mouth finding your neck as he kisses down, his tongue flicking against your pulse. his hands roam over your body, tugging off the last of your clothes, his mouth following every inch of bare skin he reveals. finally, he leans back, hands on your hips as he positions you over him, his gaze never leaving yours as he pulls you down onto him.
he looks down, smirking as he brushes his finger along your entrance, teasing you. “did she miss me?” he murmurs, his voice thick, and before you can respond, he pushes in, letting out a deep groan as he fills you completely. “yeah, sweetness,” he breathes, his voice low and rough, “i’ve missed you too.”
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DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
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eclips-moon · 4 months ago
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The Batboys being clingy headcanon:
Including Duke and Bruce <3
Hope you guys like it!
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Tim Drake Tim’s clinginess is low-key, but it’s also constant. He’s the type to text you “What’s up? I miss you <3” while you’re just sitting 5 feet away from him. If you so much as stand up to go get a snack, he’s immediately there, like, “Where are you going? Don’t leave me.” He’ll lean against you, his hand finding yours without him even realizing it. When you're watching TV or reading, he’s definitely leaning into your side, trying to get as close as possible without being too obvious. But if you move to shift positions? Nope, he’s following you. He’ll slip his arm around your waist, all like, “Don’t think I didn’t notice that.” He’s not a big PDA guy, but when it’s just the two of you? Prepare for cuddles, hand-holding, and small, random kisses. He’s gotta be touching you constantly.
Jason Todd Jason is obsessive, no doubt. He’s that partner who’ll try to act like he’s tough and independent, but the moment you show him any kind of affection, he’s all over you. Like, you can’t just hug him. No. He’ll climb into your lap and basically trap you there, rubbing his face into your neck like a cat. He’s gonna constantly ask for kisses, too, but not just little pecks—he wants full-on, deep kisses where he can pull you close and remind you that you’re his. If you’re doing something, like, working or even hanging out with friends, he’ll try to drag you away, be like, “Hey, come hang out with me, stop ignoring me for two seconds.” He’s possessive, but in the cutest way, constantly needing your attention. If you even talk to another person for too long, he’ll give them side-eye and pull you back to him like, “You good? You’re not gonna leave me for some random guy, are you?” He’s also the type to cling to you in bed, hogging the covers and curling up like a human koala.
Dick Grayson Dick’s clingy energy is pure gold. He’s the most affectionate of the bunch and doesn’t shy away from public displays of love. He loves hugging you from behind, nuzzling into your neck, and just randomly planting kisses all over your face. He’ll text you “miss you <3” every few hours when you’re apart, and when you’re together? It’s all about touch. He’s sitting on your lap, or leaning on your shoulder, or pulling you into his chest just because he needs to be close to you. If you’re watching a movie, he’s definitely going to have his head in your lap, just to be as close to you as humanly possible. He gets giddy when he gets attention from you, too. You could be playing with his hair, and he’ll melt. He’ll whine like, “I’m not clingy, you’re clingy. But also, I love it. So don’t stop.” Honestly, Dick doesn’t care if he’s acting like a bit of a puppy—he’s obsessed with you, and he makes sure you know it.
Damian Wayne Damian’s clingy moments are hilariously dramatic. He might start out cold, acting like he doesn’t need anyone, but as soon as you show him any affection? He’s all in. He’ll randomly grab your hand and hold it like it’s the most important thing in the world. If you try to walk away from him for whatever reason, he’ll growl and pull you back in, like, “Where are you going? You’re staying right here.” He has this whole vibe of “I don’t need anyone else, just you”, so if you’re talking to someone else or looking away from him for too long, he’ll wrap his arm around your waist and be like, “I don’t think you should be talking to them. They might steal you away from me.” In bed? He’s a hug monster, wrapping his arms around you like he’s never letting you go. He’s all about the intimacy, though—when it’s just the two of you, he’ll be soft and surprisingly vulnerable, making sure you know that he needs you more than he lets on.
Duke Thomas Duke is lowkey super clingy, but in the way that’s goofy and endearing. He loves to follow you around, like, just wherever you go, he’s tagging along. You’re going to the kitchen? He’s there. To grab something from the laundry room? He’s there. If you sit down, he’s sitting on the floor next to you, asking if you want to “cuddle and watch dumb shows together.” He’s always finding excuses to touch you—like, his hand will just casually rest on your knee or he’ll come up behind you and play with your hair. And if you don’t give him attention? He’ll pout, even if he’s trying to play it off, like, “Aren’t you gonna give me a kiss? C’mon, don’t leave me hanging.” He’s the type who’ll give you a silly smile, lean in for a kiss, and then pull you into a full-on hug like, “Don’t go. I’m not done with you yet.” He’s all about the hugs, especially after a long day. You’ll be just chilling, and suddenly he’s like, “Hug time, right? Let me get one.”
Bruce Wayne Now, Bruce is not the type to openly admit he’s clingy. He’s still the stoic, brooding billionaire who’s been through a lot, but when it’s just the two of you? He’s softer than anyone expects. He’ll always make sure you’re physically close—his hand on your lower back, your legs touching when you sit next to him, and if he’s standing near you, his hand will casually rest on your arm. When you’re working late or doing something serious, Bruce will occasionally pull you away for a few minutes just to kiss you or hold you close. He’s not great at asking for attention, but when he’s feeling clingy, he’ll show you through little gestures. You’ll find him just sitting beside you in silence, just content to be in your presence. He’s a man of few words, but when he’s clingy, it’s all about the touch—the way he holds your hand, how he presses his shoulder to yours, and how he’ll insist on driving you home or waiting up for you, just to make sure you’re safe.
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hoshigray · 5 months ago
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𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐌𝐞, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 | gojō satoru
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𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: bully! Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you + Gojo are college juniors - first kiss - fingering (f! receiving) - sqüiřtıng - virginity loss - corruption kink - missionary + deep impact positions - clitoral play - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy, you sillies!) - premature ejaculation - pet names (baby, crybaby, cutie, princess) - itty bitty possessiveness - mention of spit/drool and tears.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6k
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“Yo.”
“Yes, Satoru?”
“You never had your first kiss, huh?”
Gojo Satoru takes pleasure in being your bully — nothing in his third year of college gives him much joy than being your one source of torment. Sure, he’s got everything: being the campus’ grounds #1 heartthrob, a star player on the men’s basketball team, and an excellent scholar in all his courses despite being a dickhead. But, even if he possesses the things that put him at the top of the class body, his other fountain of entertainment comes from something - or someone - that playing ball or dormitory parties can’t produce the same level of internal enjoyment. 
You and he were alone in his apartment, umbrellaed under the instruction of working on an upcoming project this month. Of course, boredom is evident in the tall one’s heavy sighs as he looks through multiple articles on his laptop. Cerulean orbs wander away from the device’s screen and land on the other side of the couch; another figure glued to the armrest is concentrated on typing their keyboard to notice the prying survey. 
Gojo’s ennui begins to flicker out the moment he sees you, wanting nothing to do with this damn assignment and just to mess with his favorite pushover. This is precisely why he prompts himself to ask you a question, and judging by how quickly your fingers stop typing, now his attention is hooked onto a matter way more fascinating.
He spots your flattened lips. “…Wh–Where did that come from?”
“Just curious, a random thought that came to my head.” 
“Why was that the thought that—“
“Hey, aren’t ya gonna answer the question?”
You stammer. “What makes you think I never had my first kiss?!”
He lifts a brow; his round shades shine when he smirks. “So you did have a first kiss?” Your lips open with no voice, and both silver eyebrows rise from the silent answer you’re giving, only for you to close your mouth and avert your gaze elsewhere. Gotcha, he stifles a chuckle. “Thought so, you terrible liar. Embarrassed I called you out? Haha, hilarious.”
Your eyes may be on the words of your document on your laptop, but the heat on your cheeks and the uncomfortable knot in your gut kept brewing. You chew on your lips to focus on something other than the guy getting a kick out of your lack of experience — the guy you don’t hear close and place his computer on the coffee table.
“Hey,” the closeness of his voice takes you aback, and you’re surprised to see him sit closer enough to bring a hand to close your laptop. “Wanna kiss me?”
Mortified eyelids shoot wide. “Wanna—Wh-What!?!” What the fuck is going on?!? “Why would you ask me—“
A nonchalant shrug adds more weight to your shock. “Why not? It’s just you and me, alone in my apartment at 8 o’clock. Sounds like a perfect opportunity, doncha think?” 
“Yeah, to do work!” Your emphasis fails as Gojo takes your device to add to the table surface. “I-I didn’t come here for you to question me and ask to—“
“You got someone else you’re waiting for?” He uses a hand to cage you from escaping, a knee between your legs. He knows he has the upper hand, observing behind shielded sunglasses as he awaits your response. 
“I–W-Well,” God, what did I get myself into? “Not necessarily…”
“So, do you not trust me with your first kiss?”
“That’s…That’s not the point—“
“You’re deflecting!”
“Satoru,” the way you say his name — low and soft, a pleading whisper — makes something switch for Gojo, looking at your bashful expression with hesitant hands, barely pushing his chest. “We shouldn’t…Let’s get back to the assignment?”
That wasn’t working on him; he’d never want to stop teasing you, especially now when you look too cute. “Let me kiss you one time, ‘kay? Then, we’ll go straight back to work.” He can see the cogs work in your brain, deciphering whether he is genuine. Was he? He couldn’t tell; all he was thinking about was how your lips felt. “I promise, princess.”
You didn’t mean it to happen, but you scan from his shades to his lips; now, it’s all you can see. The bob of his Adam’s apple, when he gulps, has your breath hitch, and after a few silent seconds with no movement, he begins to descend his face lower, and your lids swiftly close. So does his as he gently places his pillowy lips onto your plump ones, and a hushed squeak doesn’t go neglected.
Cherry — that’s the flavor that Gojo can taste. It has to be from the lip gloss you plastered on your lips that made them inviting to gawk at, pretty lips that the tall other couldn’t stop peering occasionally. He licks the bottom, taking in more of the taste with a soft groan. You yelp, gaping your lips further to give the man above an idea, and chew on your bottom lip. More whimpers slide past your control, hands gripping his sweatshirt as he peppers you with soft kisses, latching onto yours for longer seconds from one after the other — so much for one kiss.
You’re the one to break it off, hesitantly backing away from him to breathe. Hot skin returns to the cold air, and intimate huffs fuel into the space. You open your eyes slowly, half-lidded with knitted brows and scorching ears. You examine Gojo’s neutral expression; orbs that were once filled with reluctance are now replaced with a...wonder.
An innocent wonder that nearly has Gojo shut down from seeing as your hands steadily ring around his neck. There it is again, another switch flipped. This time, a spark ignites his brain, curiosity coursed to a more indecent field after what it feels like taking your first kiss. Because the way you’re looking under him — entirely submitted to him and his touch — wasn’t something he expected to rock his core. And all he can think about now…
…Is what taking all of your firsts would be like.
“—Taaahhh, haah…! Satoru, w-wait a min—“
“Hey, baby, tell me, what’s it like having my fingers inside you?”
Gojo’s little experiment delved into different extremes; your first kiss was the starting point of the many thoughts that perturbed his thinking. He wanted to know more about your potential firsts. For example, such as right now, how you’d be if he were the first to touch your privates. 
The atmosphere around the living room became hotter; the tepid silence switched with the erotic sounds and squeals that exited your system. Your legs spread apart, Gojo in between your thighs as his big, calloused hand swims under your panties to shove away and meet the bareness of your cunt. You were so wet, your liquids effortlessly coating his fingertips with barely any push. An entire mess between your inner thighs and labia. And that made Gojo’s mind go wild.
“Holy shit,” he chuckles in a heavy sigh. “So fucking wet and tight…Heh, you’re all like this because of a kiss, huh? So adorably pathetic.”
Refutation is impossible as he curls his forefinger inside, scraping your upper wall in a manner you never envisaged. “Sator—Mmmph…!” He keeps pushing the digit to the knuckle, touching crevices of your inner channel you could never reach. “O-Ohhh, Jesus…”
“Mmmm, fuck, you're twitching like crazy,” and Gojo was loving every second of it. The taller junior then decides to test something and creeps his middle finger near your opening, smearing itself with your come as lube. 
You sense him push the finger in, nerves heightened. “W-Wait, Satoru, I can’t—“
“Oh, yes, you can.” He interrupts you with a cheeky sneer. “You’re practically asking for it with you twitching so much. Watch.” Gojo pushes the middle digit leisurely; your beseeching babbles become increasingly incoherent when he adds the whole thing with the other finger. Now, both of them have you shrilling from their intrepid fashion, grazing on your vaginal walls with every pull and shove until his knuckles smooch your labia.
Good God, the place is so hot, your face is hot, your body’s hot, your insides feel hot — everything is just too hot for you to handle! And your brain cannot hold itself together as the seconds go. You throw your head back, your eyes sewn shut, “OhGod, ahhck! Wait, stooop! Go slow, go slo—Ohhh!” Gojo does the exact opposite; the pace of his fingers surges to a tempo you find difficult to ride through. Your entire frame locks together, preparing for the inevitable to slip past your hold, and tremors course around you as your orgasm hits you like a train.
Simultaneously as Gojo continues to rut your soapy cunt, a clear liquid disperses out of your urethra and sprays outward. Sprinkling onto the skin of your thighs and drenching your underwear. Although you’re not the only one who gets caught, Gojo at the front gets a genuine display of you showering his forearm with your essence, damping his sweatshirt in the process, and even a bit on his sunglasses.
It happens the third time: something snaps inside Gojo once he sees your oddly beautiful teary face. It’s at that moment that something in his core breaks and permeates his entire body with a force that’s been itching to get out when he kissed you earlier. He swallows thickly because the next thing he does after this will eat him alive, a queerly anticipated feeling for the white-haired man.
Of course, Gojo is astonished at what transpired, the shock in his eyes concealed by the shades. “Did you…just squirt on me?” His ears pick up the sound of you sobbing, your hands covering your face as you whine.
Massive tears roll down your cheeks, “I—hic—I told you to wait…!” 
It’s a no-brainer that Gojo pulls you off the couch and leads you to throw on top of his bed, stripping himself off his pants and briefs to free his raging erection and crawling up on top of you after chucking his shades off. A gasp leaves puffy lips when his pink glans meet the folds of your vagina, burrowing between your labia to coat with your slick.
“Satoru, wait,” you voice. “D-Don’t you have a condom?”
“Sorry, ran out of them.” Lies. Gojo knows he has rubbers tucked in his nightstand. However, the intention to use them is nowhere to be found. Because tonight – knowing completely and damn well you’re still a virgin – he had to fuck you raw. The drive to do so sent shivers up his spine. “Don’t worry, cutie. I’ll promise to pull out.”
Yet again, another deception.
Gojo pushes the tip in as he counts your breaths, watching every wince and contortion of your expression as the cockhead ventures and seeks shelter inside your slit. Your body is squirming through every exhale, and Gojo’s coaxes to relax your rigidness are somewhat helpful as you intake air. Before you know it, your mouth goes to a permanent ‘o’ shape once the tip is inserted, the act of breathing stops, and your body recoils and tenses as he slowly forces the foreign limb to carve your tightness inch by inch.
Oh, fucking shit…!! Oh yeah, Gojo thanks himself for not putting on a rubber. The firm grasp of your walls around his length nearly has him lose balance, sinking into your warm wetness clenching onto him so deliciously. He bites his lip to composure, a futile attempt as he throws in a few slow thrusts, and the snug of you has him in a chokehold. Then, when he hits your cervix, you instinctively grip onto him tighter and wrap your legs around him, and Gojo almost chokes. 
“F-Fuuck, wait, wait..!” He curses, submitting to a release way too early; his hips tremble as his cock ejaculates into your vagina. Shocks rattle his brain, rolling his eyes to the ceiling at the sensation of pooling himself into you. “Shit, oh shiiiit…this fucking pussy is driving me crazy.”
It really does because Gojo, still keen from his climax, dials the cadence, rutting into you with purpose. The sudden movements have your shrieks bouncing across the bedroom walls, and hits to your womb are frequent and cause more tears to strike down without your comprehension. “Nnnmm! OhhhmyGod…! Mmoohh!!”
“Heh, look at you cryin’,” Gojo teases you from above, licking a tear before kissing your cheek and ear. “Guess that’s expected for your first time, huh…Hnnnm, God, you’re clenching my dick so much.”
“Th-That’s because you’re—“The curve of his shaft has the tip graze your walls in an angle that makes your back arch. “Ahhoooo!! I’m fuull; you’re making me fulll…!!”
“Awww, am I making you full, crybaby?” He mocks you in your ear, the snicker sounding too salacious to the drum. “You full with my dick that it got you whining and crying for me?”
I can’t do this! Your brain dissolves into mush, and your face is too hot to construct adequate consciousness. “I can feel it, I can feel…”
“What is it? I can’t hear you through all the sobbing,” Gojo unscrews your legs to maneuver one for him to straddle and the other to lie on his shoulder. The new position gave him a directed way to piston his pelvis into your aching cunt, your squeals turning into screams as pokes to your womb come with the feverish pacing. He’s hitting so deep you can’t catch up! “What, you think you’re about to cum?”
You nod hurriedly. “Yes, yesss!!”
“Oh, that’s what you want now?” The snow-headed man chortles before sneaking a hand to your vulva, where his fore and middle finger swipe on your clit. “Tell me, is that what my pathetic angel wants?” You nod again, so he pinches your bud. “Tell me properly~.”
“—Ahhnnn, ohh, Sa—‘Toruuu!!” You pan to him. “Pleaseee, please make me cum, I wanna cum…!!”
God, this was a picture worth savoring. The image of you being all desperate for release, wanting nothing but to succumb to your wanton desire. You looked so ruined, like a completely different person compared to the meek exterior Gojo used to. And it’s all because of him – his words, his touches, his lips, and his dick – that you’re like this. A fact that only propels him to hammer his hips into you harsher. 
“Good girl,” he bends down to close his face to yours. Surveying you make such erotic faces as he keeps playing with your clit is food for his soul. “Enjoy yourself, princess,” and he steals your lips once more for another kiss.
Your orgasm comes to you quicker than ever, thanks to the work of Gojo’s hips, the hits of your cervix, the pinches on your clitoris, and the sloppy makeout session. Your body freezes and lets the aftershocks jolt you to a rocky clarity, your head in a dense fog, and your vision just about blurry. Your legs quiver with heaving breaths, and Gojo keeps thrusting as you soon fall out of your euphoria. 
The cold air blankets both of you once tense muscles calm down and bring you two back to reality. Silence befriends the lack of words aside from the pants of breath, and Gojo sluggishly withdraws his cock out of your wet chasm, whistling at the sight of his load slowly protruding out of your essence.
“Hey,” your face forms into a helpless expression. “Bet you never tried anal before.”
Tonight was dedicated to conquering all of your firsts. And Gojo means that with every bone in his body!
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ transparent edit made by me + dividers from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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suguann · 1 year ago
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Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 
"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”
The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.
"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.
Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.
He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.
"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”
You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.
Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.
His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”
Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.
“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.
Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.
Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 
“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”
Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.
“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”
Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.
Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"
You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 
"Ah, fuck—b-but–"
Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 
"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.
Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.
He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."
The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.
“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”
Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.
Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.
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Masterlist
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gothgoblinbabe · 6 months ago
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She Wolf
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A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!
Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.
Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, fem reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!
Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)
divider credit here
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“Are you ever gonna tell him?”
You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.
“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”
You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.
You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.
Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now. 
“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week. 
“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.
Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again. 
“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”
You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.
“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand. 
He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”
Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”
She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play. 
It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie. 
“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.
“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.
“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.
“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.
“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.
As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.
Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.
“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.
“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”
It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze. 
Definitely not my type of girl. 
“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs. 
“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.
“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.
“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”
“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly. 
“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”
“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”
“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence. 
Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.
“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.
The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.
“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.
Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”
“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.
“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.
“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”
“Only one way to find out.”
───────♡──────────────♡───────
Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.
It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers. 
Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.
“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”
“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed. 
“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”
He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”
“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.
He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing. 
“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”
Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.
Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.
“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.
“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”
Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.
───────♡──────────────♡───────
Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.
“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.
“I’m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.
“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice. 
“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently. 
“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable. 
“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.
Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more. 
“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.
“Hey, you wanna dance?”
He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne. 
“Sure, why not?”
As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.
“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.
S.O.S., she's in disguise
S.O.S., she's in disguise
There's a she wolf in disguise
Coming out, coming out, coming out
“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.
───────♡──────────────♡───────
Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.
“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.
“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”
“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.” 
“No.”
“Yup.”
“Nope.”
“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?” 
Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.
The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people. 
“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.
“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.
“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.
She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.
There's a she wolf in the closet
Open up and set it free 
There's a she wolf in your closet
Let it out so it can breathe
You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter. 
And you were with a guy.
Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey
It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way
“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.
“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”
“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.
That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way. 
Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys
I just want to enjoy 
By having a very good time
And behave very bad in the arms of a boy
You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.
The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.
S.O.S., she's in disguise
S.O.S., she's in disguise
“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”
You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing. 
There's a she wolf in disguise
Coming out, coming out, coming out
Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.
“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him. 
“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip. 
There's a she wolf in the closet
Let it out so it can breathe
“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.
“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”
“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.
“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants. 
“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”
What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs. 
“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you. 
“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time. 
“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.
“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”
“What was that? You’re welcome - “ 
“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”
“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”
He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”
None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before. 
You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete. 
“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”
“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.” 
You hugged her back.
“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze. 
“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.
“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”
The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.
“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”
You understood what she meant immediately. 
“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”
“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”
Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.
You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.
“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”
“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.
“And I can’t want it either?”
That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.
You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom. 
“What’s going on with you?”
“Leave me be.”
You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out. 
“Logan.”
He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.
“Move.”
“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “
“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.
“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.
You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.
“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”
Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him. 
“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”
“Why do you care?” 
You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.
“Stop.” 
You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.
You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.
“I didn’t mean that.”
“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“
“I’m not.”
He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.
“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.
“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”
You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.
“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”
You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.
“It worked, are you happy?”
“No, I’m not - “
“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”
You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started. 
“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.
“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.
“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed. 
You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name. 
“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.
He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.
“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”
Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.
“Save me the trouble of what?”
You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.
“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”
You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you. 
“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”
You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.
“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”
All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind. 
“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.
“Logan.”
Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you. 
No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top. 
“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.
You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.
“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”
“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”
After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.
“Did it work?”
His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.
You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath. 
“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”
Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.
Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.
“Can I kiss you?”
You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.
You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him. 
When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.
“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.
“Agreed.”
His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.
He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.
“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”
“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.
“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.
He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”
His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.
“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck. 
“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go. 
Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.
“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.
“Please what, baby?”
“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck. 
He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back. 
“Can I take this off you, baby?”
You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.
“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”
He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.
You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking. 
“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.
“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs. 
Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.
He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.
“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.
You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.
“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.
“Yeah?”
His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.
“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.
You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.
“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”
He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.
He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name. 
A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.
“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”
It was Scott.
 You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face. 
“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.
“You sure?”
You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing. 
“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”
Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.
Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.
“Logan, I’m - “
“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”
His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.
“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.
“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.
He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers. 
“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.
Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.
“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.
“You’re into pain, huh?” 
You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.
“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing. 
When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.
“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him. 
You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking. 
“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist. 
“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust. 
You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back. 
Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.
“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.
“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out. 
“Feels good?”
It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size. 
“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.
“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him. 
“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.
That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress. 
He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.
“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again. 
“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you. 
He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful. 
“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.
“Bite me.”
You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”
“Please.”
You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.
He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip. 
“Please.”
His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again. 
You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds. 
Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm. 
“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.
“Want me to stay?”
“Mhm - please.”
The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep. 
“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”
The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.
“Really?”
“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”
You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be. 
“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.
“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.
Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.
“You can make it up to me some more.”
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A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks
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