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uhzuku · 1 year ago

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Could write a aizawa fic with a hybrid!reader? Like the shounya fics you wrote? I love those ones!

𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 (𝐂𝐀𝐓)𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋! | 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮-𝐧𝐲𝐚.

𝐂𝐖 ‼️ | hybrids, hybrid au, no quirks, catgirl reader, fem reader, shou-nya uno reverse ( ur the kitty now besties ! ), misunderstandings, aizawa is a big dumb dumb n didn’t research *all* cat hybrid behaviors so u get a lil pissy ngl, night shift security guard aizawa, rut cycles/in heat, creampies, biting, breeding kink, daddy & master kinks, use of ‘kitty’ as a pet name.

“This’ll be your room,” Shouta grunts, opening the door to the guest bedroom in his apartment. “Used to be the guest, but you’re here to stay, so it’s all yours now. Decorate it however, I don’t really care.”

You blink owlishly into the dark room he’s offered you. It isn’t bad or small, it’s rather nice actually, but you were confused. Turning to look up at him, your bottom lip trembles a little as you ask, “B-But — I just got here, what did I do?”

“Huh?!” The noise he makes is filled with blatant confusion, but you don’t even register it as you clutch at your tail, upset.

“What did I do wrong?” You ask again, eyes starting to water a little, and your new master starts looking a little uncomfortable; he never knew what to do when people cried.

“Nothing!” he exclaims, starting to panic just a little. Why were you having such a visceral reaction to getting your own room?!

“Then why am I being punished?” you whine, eyes shimmering with tears, and he shakes his head and hands placatingly.

“What?! You aren’t!”

“But I’m — I’m supposed to s-sleep with you!” You hiccup, and Shouta can honestly say he doesn't know what to do. You’ve been in his apartment for less than half an hour and he’s already made you cry. How the fuck was he supposed to know hybrids slept with their owners? He’d never owned one before! Besides, aren't cats supposed to want their own space? That was the entire reason he allowed Hizashi and Nemuri to talk him into adopting a cat hybrid, eventually choosing a catgirl over a catboy after Nemuri showed him a picture of you cuddling your tail while sleeping that the hybrid shelter you’d come from had posted.

“It’s not a punishment,” he says patiently, “I just want you to be able to have your own space.”

“But I won’t take up much room, I promise,” you say quietly, refusing to look at him. “I can be good — you won’t even know I’m there.”

Shouta sighs, then shakes his head. “No, you need your own room. I don’t want to share mine with you.” He knows he’s said the wrong thing when he sees your body stiffen, your fur puff up, and your ears flick back to pin themselves against your head, but what was wrong about it he doesn’t know. He reaches out a hand slowly, but you dodge it with an angry-sounding inhuman noise, and it startles him.

“If you didn’t want me, why adopt me?” you ask coldly, shocking him, before stalking into your room and locking the door behind you. For the rest of the night until time for his patrol hits he tries to coax you out, but you refuse dinner and snacks and cuddles ( all the things that Nemuri and Hizashi had said could tempt you out when he’d texted them in a panic ), holing yourself up in your room and sticking it out until he’s forced to leave for his security job from midnight to five. When he gets back he finds an empty tin of cat hybrid-specific food in the trash, one of the dozen and a half tins that the shelter had sent him home with that he’d turned up his nose at and promptly decided to feed you real food instead of, alongside a freshly washed bowl and spoon drying on the counter rack. The plate he’d made for you is untouched on the counter, and likewise with the bag of cookies he’d tried to get you to come out with, and he groans.

If it wasn’t obvious you were pissed with him before, it definitely was now.

“C’mon, please come out,” Shouta groans a week later. Seven days have passed, and he’s not even caught a glimpse of you since that first day, and he’s starting to worry. He knows you’re still in there, he’s heard you moving stuff around, and he knows you come out every now and then to snatch stuff because so many blankets are missing that it isn’t even funny anymore, but he doesn’t know what to do. Obviously he isn’t going to force his way inside your room, considering that would defeat the entire purpose of giving you your own space, but the nerves were starting to get to him.

Honestly he might have sent an SOS to Nemuri had he not come home from his night shift later that night and found you lounging on the couch in front of the TV while some random true crime show played, your tail flicking back and forth idly as the narrator recounts a particularly grisly murder case.

It’s a welcome surprise, seeing you out of your room, and he’s relieved — then startled when he goes to gently scratch one of your ears and you hiss at him, climbing onto the back of the far end of the couch and draping yourself there while giving him a warning look. He just blinks, shocked, before dropping the hand he’d still had raised, and retreats to the kitchen for a late snack. While he’s there he shoots off a text in the group chat telling Hizashi and Nemuri that you came out as well as what had happened, and when Nemuri jokes that you must really not like him now he groans quietly, because wasn’t she right?

The next few days are the same, with him coming home to you lazing around the house and acting growly whenever he gets too close or brushes against you by accident. You’re at least eating more, though, considering he comes home nightly to find the meals he’s made you gone entirely without even leftovers remaining. Maybe a different man would be angry, but Shouta was just happy you were eating what he was making and that everything was falling into a lax routine that he could understand; like he’d thought before, cat hybrids weren’t unlike cats, so of course you’d get pissy now and then — it’s how cats are.

And then he comes home, and you aren’t somewhere in the living room. His heart plummets as he worries that he’s somehow managed to fuck up again, but then a pained-sounding yowl reaches his ears and he rushes to your room in a panic. He’d not locked the door that night, overtired from a rough night’s sleep ( or lack thereof, really ) and if someone had broken in due to his stupidity and was hurting you —!

Throwing your door open with a call of your name on the tip of his tongue, he’s greeted by the sight of your slick, swollen pussy pointing directly at the door as you arch your back while on all fours and reach a hand under and between your legs to finger yourself, distressed mewls falling from your lips as they do nothing to satisfy you, and suddenly everything clicks into place for Shouta. You were in heat — meaning the week before you were in preheat, and therefore excessively hormonal. It would only be expected for your patience to fluctuate like the temperature just between summer and autumn.

Stupid, stupid! He thinks, moving to back out of your room, but it’s too late since you’ve caught sight of him. A demanding screech falls from your mouth and he freezes, locking eyes with you as you pant open-mouthed before you whine, “M-Master, help me~!”

Unwittingly he feels his cock twitch in his uniform pants and his mouth fills with saliva. He can’t smell what could only be a desperately cloying heat scent to catboys, but the sight of his new ‘pet’ shaking her pussy at him was enough to spur him into stalking into the room carefully, slowly but surely peeling off his security uniform and freeing his more than half-hard cock from his underwear. He never tears his eyes from where you sway your ass back and forth on the bed in front of him, whining and calling for Master all the while.

“‘M so hot, Master, please make it go away!” you moan while looking back at him over your shoulder with tear-filled eyes. Your watery gaze is what really gets him even closer, and when he places his hands on your bare hips he can feel how hot to the touch your skin is; it’s almost alarming, but you’re distracting him by rubbing your bare cunt against his crotch. “Wan’ it in me — fill me up, Master, I’ve been a good girl!”

“Have you?” he growls, gripping you by the hips tightly and yanking you back at the same time he rolls his hips into you, grinding your burning hot pussy against his cock and drawing a lewd meow from your lips. “Been bitchy all week, growling and hissing and swiping at me…”

“Sorry! I’m sorry!” you whine, sniffling. “Please fuck me, Master!”

Shouta fists his hand around the base of your tail and tugs you up by it, pulling a yowl from you, while taking his cock by the base with his other hand and proceeding to rub it against your sopping wet cunt. His sensitive tip skips across your wanting entrance and rolls across your swollen clit, and he continues rutting his hips against you this way so he can coat his cock with a good amount of your slick before stuffing you full — but you’re impatient, and you want him now.

“In me!” you demand, hiccuping out a tiny growl between your moaned sobs. “Put it in me!”

His hand, wet with your slick, darts forward at lighting speed and grips you by the chin in a borderline bruising grip as he turns you to face him. “You’ll get what I’ll give you when I give it to you,” he snarls, and a new gush of wetness coats his cock at his tone.

“You’re s-so mean!” you wail, then shriek as his hand comes down across your bare ass in a brutal spank that leaves it stinging.

“Don’t be a bad girl, kitty,” he croons mockingly, pressing a kiss to your jaw, and you tremble; the scratch of the stubble on his face got you even wetter. “You want Daddy to fuck you, don’t you?”

You just whimper and mewl, arching your back in what you hope is an obvious invitation, and thankfully Shouta can read desperate whores better than freshly adopted hybrids, because he knows that’s his cue to press inside, which he does. You let out a sharp, drawn out cry as he fills you up all at once, and he lets out a deep groan as your almost unbearably burning hot cunt wraps around him perfectly; he can hardly keep himself from starting to fuck you right away, but he manages to hold off until you start begging for him to move, which only takes a couple seconds.

“M-Move, move-! Please!” you wail, pushing back against him to bury his cock as deep inside as it would go. “Fuck me!” Shouta doesn’t have to be told twice and immediately sets a brutal, unforgiving pace, his heavy balls slapping against you wetly with each rough thrust. His grip is bruising, and heavy moans escape through his gritted teeth.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he grunts, releasing one of your hips to press it flat against the wall, stabilizing himself as practically tears you apart.

“O-Oh! Oh, fuck — f-fuck, Daddy, you’re mixing up my i-insides!” you wail, claws digging into the bedding as you cry out for him. Mid-thrust his hand slips and his entire front plasters itself to your back, the arm that had slipped curling beneath your neck while the other wraps around your middle and he fucks into you like a man possessed. His moans and growls at your ear make your body tingle pleasantly from your fingers to your toes, and you tremble beneath him as you begin to cry from the stimulation.

“That’s a good kitty,” Shouta groans as you scratch at the bed in front of you, “Yeah, cry for Daddy—!”

“D-Daddy!” you hiccup through a wail, tears rolling down your cheeks as what of your tail that wasn’t pinned between your bodies lashes back and forth violently. “Bite, bite, bite!” you beg, tilting your head to the side to bare where the soft column of your throat met with your collarbone and shoulder; your jaw presses against his thick bicep, and other than his hands on your body and his cock in your cunt that’s the only thing grounding you right now. “Bite!”

He doesn’t argue, biting down as he fucks into you and earning himself a high-pitched scream from you that he knows the neighbors heard; all he can do is mentally cross his fingers that they realize the context without being expressly told because he sure as fuck wasn’t going to pull out of your oerfect fucking cunt just to answer a noise complaint notice.

“P-Please, Daddy!” you gasp, drool rolling down your chin. “Please, cum in me! Breed me! Fill me up, claim me on the inside too!”

Shouta lets out a shaky moan around his mouthful of your collarbone. God, you’re filthy.

It doesn’t take much more time before you’re yowling again, and he isn’t sure why until he feels your cunt rhythmically spasming around his aching cock. His eyes roll back a little at the feeling, which is all it takes for him to start cumming with you. You can feel a pleasant warmth that you know is him start to fill your lower belly, and you let out another cry as you arch your back more as far as it’ll go while he keeps fucking you through both of your orgasms, all former coherency leaving you both as gibberish moans flm from your lips. It’s only once he stops cummung that he begins to ease to a stop before finally pulling out and rolling over to lay on his back, breathing hard. You immediately begin pressing the cum that was dripping from your cunt back inside, repeating the action a handful of times before licking your fingers clean and kissing him.

The two of you kiss for a bit before you pull away to lay down for a second to rest between the heat waves, and during this rest he finally speaks again. “How long do — how long do your heats usually last, kitty?” Shouta asks through deep breaths, his heart pounding. You purr and curl up close to him, tail curling back and forth.

“‘Least a week more,” you answer honestly, and he groans as one of your hands reaches down and starts stroking his cock back to full hardness. “So hurry up ‘nd fuck me again, Daddy — I can’t cum without you being mean to me.”

#shou_nya.♡#shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x you #aizawa shouta x you #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia x you #mha x reader #mha x you #quick disclaimer but this is prob the only time i’ll do a lil flippy flip on the shou-nya universe since it’s *catzawa* not cat reader #but hey i had fun so dhcbrhc hgf

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emo-gremlin · 2 years ago

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Flippy/Fliqpy x autistic reader!

(Based off my own experiences <3)

Flippy!!!

😇 OH MY GOD is He the perfect partner to have if you're autistic.

😇 He isn't a fan of loud sounds either, so he also has noise reduction earmuffs and can lend you a pair!

😇 He will drag you to the craft store and have you pick out the softest yarns and this man will knit you everything from weighted blankets, sweaters, he can even make weighted plushies!!!

😇 If ya'll are watching something and you need to busy your hands, he's got the perfect job for you. He's got a stockpile of yarn that needs winding and it's quite soothing to you both.

😇 Overstimulated? He's already memorized the warning signs of a shutdown and he's rushing to get you out as soon as he can.

😇 Finds it absolutely adorable when you infodump. He's very attentive, even asking questions so you can talk about it more. The way your eyes sparkle when you go on about your passions is beautiful to him.

😇 CUDDLES MANY CUDDLES ARE TO BE HAD

😇 I'd say the only point of contention between you two is your picky eating. Obviously, certain textures you can't handle and he doesn't force you to eat them. But he does try to get you to expand your pallette now and then. He saw quite a few men in his tours be picky eaters and they became malnourished, he doesn't want the same for you.

Fliqpy!!

😈 Oh boy.

😈 So he doesn't exactly understand and initially sees you as very weak. How have you been able to survive for so long if even sunlight bothers you?

😈 However, the first time he sees you have a shutdown, he doesn't see you initially, he sees Flippy when he first came into existence. Scared, helpless, and in desperate need of protection. From then on, he takes your needs seriously. He's still abrasive, but he's trying his best.

😈 Anyone gives you shit about your earmuffs, or Stims? Yeah, they aren't long for this world.

😈 If one of your special interests is war, oh boy will he light up and tell you all about his glory days. Every kill, every mission, he lays it all out with a prideful smirk. Weapons as a special interest? He's got a huge collection and he's more than happy to play show and tell.

😈 Will let you borrow his jacket if you need something weighted. The guy is always carrying some kind of heavy weapon, and also he loves how you look in it.

😈 Now when he sees you start to shutdown, it is ON SIGHT. He's destroying everything and everyone that's stressing you out.

😈 He also likes to cuddle, but he doesn't like to admit it.

I love these bears so much <3

#htf flipqy #htf flippy #htf #htf x reader #happy tree friends flippy #happy tree friends imagines #happy tree friends x reader #happy tree friends #x reader

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girlygguk · 2 months ago

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WIT IT THIS CHRISTMAS ⋆ JJK

you’re done watching girls shoot their shot with your man. this time, you let them know. or, better yet, hear.

🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 2 of 6

pairing drummer!jk x secret situationship fem!reader

genre fwb2l, angst, fluff, smut 18+ mdni

content jk 25 | yn 22, bratty oc, jk knows how to handle her, jk is in an alt rock band with jinnie and yoongs, tae is jk's best friend & oc's confidant, vmin are bfs, jk spoils oc, babygirl just wants to be cuffed, ruined christmas plans, oc whines a bit, oc gives jk the cold shoulder for approx 7 mins before folding bc… idk dick too good i guess, jealousy (both parties, more so oc's side), neither of them entertain it tho, fwb but like exclusive ones because cmawn… it's me, kissing, grinding, groping, big tiddy reader, big tiddy sucking, sm dirty talk & praise, quick bj, cunnilingus, choking if u blink, oc gets fucked w his drumsticks, and then his cock, condomless p in v sex, oc is on birth control, clothed sex, sub dom dynamics, daddy kink, a little tiny bit of squirting i think, creampie, happy but very abrupt ending sorryyy

word count 8.9k

banner by the lovely @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

North Star Pavilion, Seoul

Christmas lights twinkle across the city, their warm glow mocking the chill in your chest. Everything feels like too much—too cold, too noisy, too far from what you actually wanted today. What you were promised.

The van door slams shut behind you, the biting breeze nipping at your skin as your boots crunch against the icy gravel.

Jungkook follows close behind, his shoes scuffing against the ground as he jogs to catch up.

“Baby,” he calls softly, reaching for your hand. But you shrug him off, your arms folding tightly over your chest as you keep moving toward the back entrance of the venue.

Jungkook lets out a heavy sigh, his breath visible in the icy air. “Come on, baby,” he murmurs, his tone dipping into that pleading softness that always makes you want to fold. “Y/n, I had to—”

“I’ll see you after the show, J.”

Your voice comes clipped and cold as you cut him off, not bothering to look back. His soft footsteps falter, and you can feel his eyes fixed on you.

For a brief, brief moment, something in you threatens to crack.

But you don’t let it.

The angry stomp of your boots against frozen pebbles drowns out anything he might have said as you disappear through the back, weaving through the venue without so much as a glance in Jungkook’s direction.

The warmth of the building barely registers. It isn’t enough to thaw the stubborn frost clinging to your chest as you move down the hall, barely nodding at the familiar faces of the staff who greet you in passing.

Eventually, you find an empty corridor, the hum of the growing crowd muffled by the walls. Leaning back against the cool tile, you tip your head back and let out a bitter scoff.

This isn’t how today is supposed to fucking go.

Rolling your eyes, you dig your hand into your pocket and pull out your phone, desperate for a distraction. But the memory you’ve been avoiding all day slips in anyway—very vivid and very unwelcome.

Yesterday, you’d been curled up on your couch, your legs draped lazily over Jungkook’s lap as the soft glow of the tiny Christmas tree on your coffee table lit up the room. It had become a routine of sorts—the quiet calm after his shows, a pocket of peace that felt like yours and his alone.

Jungkook’s tattooed fingers traced idle patterns over your calf, the gentle pressure soothing against your bare skin. You were warm and sleepy from the shower you’d shared earlier, your body clad in a little sleep shirt and panties. Jungkook, in his sweats and no shirt, smelled faintly of your shampoo, his long, damp hair falling loose around his face.

It was all so soft, so cozy, so domestic.

So fucking stupid.

You caught him staring, his gaze steady and quiet, that intensity in his dark eyes making your stomach do that stupid flippy thing.

“Watcha lookin’ at, creepy?” you squinted, nudging his stomach with your foot.

Jungkook’s lips twitched as he shook his head, his fingers still lazily stroking your leg. “Nothing,” he hummed, but his gaze lingered a moment longer before he dropped it back to his phone.

You tossed your own phone to the side, crawling onto his lap with a light shove to his shoulder. He grunted softly as you shifted over him when he lay down, his hands instinctively finding your thighs as you flopped against his chest.

“You okay?” you murmured into his neck, your fingers brushing softly over his collarbone.

“Very,” he replied, his voice low, his big hand sliding up to smooth over and cup your ass.

You smiled into his skin, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I bought us Christmas pajamas,” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his pulse.

Jungkook paused for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh, his fingers stilling briefly before resuming their lazy path. “Did you?”

“Yup,” you said, smirking. “Try not to wear them, and your ass is spending Christmas alone.”

His laugh deepened, his hand slipping beneath the hem of your panties to rub slow, little circles over the curve of your skin. “I’ll wear them, baby,” he promised.

“Know you will,” you whispered, your teeth grazing lightly against his neck.

His head tilted, granting you more access as a low, soft grunt rumbled from his throat, the sound enough to make you press closer.

You were ready to tease him further, your tongue lazily flicking over his pulse, when his phone buzzed loudly on the couch beside you.

He shifted, reaching for it with one hand while his other stayed firmly on your thigh, absently stroking your skin. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder, eyes closed, soothed by the soft, lispy cadence of his voice.

Until you heard it.

“North Star fucking Pavilion, bro! On Christmas Day!” The Spine Breakers’ lead singer’s voice crackled through the speaker. “The check is insane, JK!”

Jungkook sighed heavily, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh. “I already have plans, Jin-hyung—”

“We need you, man,” Yoongi, his bass player, cut in. “You’re our drummer. We can’t do this without you, dude...”

The air shifted. You felt it before you even opened your eyes.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned. You could feel his gaze on you, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to intervene. But you didn’t. You stayed still, letting him make his choice.

“Fuckin—okay, okay, hyung,” he muttered into the phone, his voice resigned as he cut off Jin’s begging. “I’ll do it.”

The second the call ended, you climbed off him, ignoring the hand that reached for you, brushing off the way he called your name. The bedroom door slammed angrily behind you.

He followed, of course.

Jungkook dropped down on the bed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he tried to apologize, his voice soft and pleading. But you didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at him. You fell asleep facing the wall, his hand still resting on your stomach.

And now, here you are.

Not curled up on the couch, watching a stupid Christmas movie like you had planned. Not eating takeout, because neither of you can cook for shit. Not sneaking up to the roof to get holiday high together.

No. Instead, you’re standing in a cold, empty hallway of one of Seoul’s biggest holiday locales, the muffled roar of the crowd growing louder behind the door to your left.

The hem of your winter dress shifts as you fidget, the festive vibe of your outfit doing little to match the storm in your chest. At least it’s black. That’s, like, emo, right?

Whatever.

Merry fucking Christmas. And fuck Jeon Jungkook.

The crowd thickens as you weave through, the bass of the background music vibrating under your boots with every step. People press in on all sides, the noise a tangled mess of cheers and shuffling feet. You don’t let it faze you, your eyes scanning the mass for a familiar figure.

The closer you get to the side stage, the more recognizable faces appear—crew members rushing around, regular staff you’ve seen countless times at past shows. But it’s not until your gaze catches on a mop of black hair that some of the tension in your shoulders finally lifts.

You spot your boy...friend’s best friend leaning against a speaker, his ear piercings glinting under the scattered lights. A plastic Christmas wreath headband sits snugly atop his neatly straightened curls, and the corner of your lips quirks up despite yourself.

He notices you before you reach him, a grin spreading across his face as he lifts the beer bottle in his hand in greeting.

By the time you push through the last cluster of people, your gaze flicking over his ripped jeans and the artful layering of his black shirts, he’s already stepping forward to wrap you in a hug.

“Ah,” Taehyung says, giving you a once-over, his brows wiggling as he pulls back. “We’re matching.”

You glance down at your black-on-black outfit, then at his. “I’m in a mood,” you roll your eyes, though a quiet laugh escapes.

Taehyung hums knowingly, offering you the spare beer in his other hand. You take it, cracking the cap before taking a long sip. Your gaze flicks toward the stage, where crew members scurry to finish sound checks and tune the equipment.

“It’s fucking packed,” he comments, nodding toward the crowd, which seems to grow thicker by the second. “J said tickets sold out in minutes.”

You hum noncommittally, your focus still fixed on the stage. “Of course they did. It’s Christmas, and these emos don’t have anything better to do.”

Taehyung snickers, leaning in to nudge your shoulder. “And your excuse? No Christmas plans…?”

You shoot him a glare, taking another sip of beer as he raises his hands in mock defense.

“Still haven’t made up yet?” he prods, his tone teasing, knowing.

“Nope,” you huff, the sound bratty as your gaze flicks around the venue. “I’m ignoring him until Valentine’s Day. And if I’m not cuffed by then, I’m castrating the motherfucker.”

He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Why not just ask him to go steady again?”

“Because,” you grumble, pointing the neck of your beer bottle at him, “he’s the one who doesn’t want me seeing other guys. So, he can ask me.”

Taehyung arches a brow, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Didn’t you also say you didn’t want him fucking with other chicks?”

“Shut up,” you huff, giving him a halfhearted shove as he laughs again.

The minutes pass as the venue comes alive, the energy thickening the air around you with heat. The chatter grows louder, the crowd swelling until it feels like the walls are pulsing. You and Taehyung stand shoulder to shoulder, unfazed by the chaos. You’ve done this too many times before—waiting at the edge of the stage, watching the lights dim as the band take their places.

You hadn’t met Jungkook through Taehyung, though. You’d met Taehyung first at one of their early performances, back when The Spine Breakers were barely on anyone’s radar.

It had been a little bar in the city, the kind of place where the beer was watered down and the sound system was a half-step away from blowing out. You’d gone with your friend Marcy, both of you already knowing a good chunk of TSB's songs before the first chord even played.

Most of the crowd back then hadn’t been as familiar, more there for the vibe than the band. You’d been a few rows back, swaying to the music, when Taehyung walked by and stumbled into you, spilling half his beer onto your skirt.

He’d been flustered, apologizing immediately and offering to buy you another drink as yours dropped on the ground. When you’d rolled your eyes and waved him off, turning back to Marcy without much more than a shrug, he hadn’t used it as an excuse to keep bothering you. Sad as it might sound, that had caught your attention—guys who actually took a hint were fucking rare.

He’d genuinely seemed sorry, even offering to hold your place if you wanted to head to the bathroom to clean up. You’d given him a once-over, told him it didn’t bother you, and pulled him into your little huddle instead.

By the end of the night, Taehyung was dancing to the music beside you and Marcy, and when the set ended, he asked if you wanted to come backstage to meet the band. You’d told him to shut the fuck up, convinced he was joking.

He wasn’t.

That was the first time you’d seen Jungkook up close. The first time you’d stared a little too long at the drummer with the intriguingly quiet intensity and ink-covered arms that you wanted to run your tongue along.

While Marcy hit it off immediately with Tae—bonding over their matching daith piercings or whatever—the pull between you and Jungkook had been something else entirely.

Maybe you’ve been to every single one of his shows since then. Maybe you took a gap year from college, picking up shifts at a club in town to cover your rent while Jungkook paid for everything else. Maybe you’ve only been with one other guy in the 449 days you’ve known him—and that was way back, in the early days, before it all started to feel like this.

Maybe.

Taehyung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, his tone casual but his smile teasing. “You’re doing it again,” he quips, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, clearing your throat as your gaze flickers back to the stage. Jungkook’s seated behind his drum set now, a crew member leaning in close as she adjusts his mic stand.

“S’okay,” Taehyung replies with a quiet laugh, raising his bottle to his lips. He leans back against the speaker, his grin softening. “You guys wanna come over for drinks after the show? Jiminie made Christmas pudding.”

You blink, your focus still trained on Jungkook as the staff member smiles at him, her mouth moving—maybe asking if he was okay, if he needed anything else. His tongue flicks over his lip rings, his head tilting slightly as he shakes it in response.

She lingers.

He gives her a dismissive, doe-eyed look from under his lashes, his dimple peeking out as he shakes his head again. Finally, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, glances around quickly, and scurries backstage.

Slut. The both of them.

Your lips press into a line, your eyes narrowing as you take another sip of beer. “Sure, I’ll come,” you mutter half-heartedly to Taehyung without taking your eyes off Jungkook.

His gaze catches yours from the stage.

You look away.

The crowd roars as Jin takes the mic, yelling out a quick greeting before launching right into their set.

The music is electric, Yoongi's smooth, heavy bass and Jungkook’s crisp, pounding drumming vibrating through your chest as the band plays. You can’t help but let your body move with Jin's voice, nodding your head along as Taehyung sways beside you, the beer in his hand getting lower by the minute.

Halfway through the third song, a guy squeezes his way through the crowd toward you and Taehyung. At first, you don’t think much of it—packed shows like this always mean a little too much physical closeness. But when he stops right next to you, leaning in far closer than necessary, his intentions become annoyingly clear.

“Hey,” he shouts, his voice barely cutting through the music.

You glance at him briefly, tilting your head and pursing your lips before looking back at the stage.

The guy doesn’t get the message—or maybe he doesn’t care. “You here alone?”

You shake your head shortly, keeping your eyes fixed on the stage. “Nope.”

Taehyung notices the exchange but doesn’t intervene, his gaze flicking between you and the guy as he sips his drink.

The guy leans in again, louder this time, more insistent. “You want another drink?”

You roll your eyes, stepping closer to Taehyung. “I’m good,” you say flatly, your tone leaving no room for interpretation.

From the stage, you notice Jungkook’s playing start to shift. His drumming grows heavier, each strike more intense than usual. Your gaze flicks to him, catching the way his eyes keep darting toward your spot in the crowd.

Exhaling through your nose, you swap places with Taehyung in an attempt to move out of the guy’s line of sight. Taehyung’s grin fades into something firmer when he notices.

Taehyung lowers his beer, turning to the guy, his taller frame blocking the dude’s view of you entirely. “You good, man?”

The guy hesitates, visibly weighing his options. He looks like he wants to argue but ultimately decides against it, laughing under his breath before slipping back into the crowd.

Taehyung watches him walk off, shaking his head before leaning closer. “You alright, Y/n?”

You nod, offering a light rub on his arm in thanks, but your attention is already back on Jungkook. He’s still looking, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he watches you.

The last notes of the set fade into a wave of screams as the stage becomes a field of tossed roses and stray undergarments. Jin, as always, makes a show of it, crouching to pick up a red lace bra and biting down on the strap with a cheeky grin. His bandmates laugh as the crowd loses their shit, Yoongi shaking his head as Jin winks into the audience.

They bask in the chaos for a moment longer, waving to the crowd before the elder two begin to slip offstage. Jungkook lingers behind, his hands braced on his knees as he catches his breath. He drags a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back as he straightens to his full height, chest rising and falling in exertion.

Just before he steps off, his eyes find yours. His gaze drags, a quick once-over, a slow run of his tongue over his lip rings, a subtle sniff of his nose. Then he’s gone, following his bandmates backstage.

Taehyung nudges your arm lightly. “Ready?”

You hum, nodding as you start making your way through the crowd, the buzz of energy still heavy in the air. The hallway to the dressing rooms is dim, much quieter than the rest of the venue.

Up ahead, you spot Jin and Yoongi walking a few steps ahead of Jungkook. They’re laughing at something, their figures disappearing around the corner. Jungkook trails behind them, dragging his hand through his hair again, the motion automatic.

Then you see her.

The staff girl from earlier is struggling with a speaker, her grip tight on the handle as she drags it down the hallway. When she glances up and spots Jungkook, her face lights up instantly.

Your steps slow without thinking, your gaze locking on her as she stops beside him. There’s a shy tilt to her smile as she offers him the water bottle balanced on top of the speaker. Jungkook takes it with a murmured thank you, cracking the seal and tipping it back, like he’s barely aware of her lingering.

But she doesn’t move.

She starts talking instead, her pace quickening to match his as he walks. Her cheeks flush slightly as she speaks, her eyes flicking up at him now and then like she’s gauging his mood.

Taehyung shifts beside you, his gaze flickering between you and the scene unfolding a few feet ahead. You can feel his curiosity, but you don’t acknowledge it. Your eyes stay glued to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose head tilts slightly as he glances back at the girl, then forward at his bandmates. You catch the faintest crease in his brow before he slows his steps and eventually stops altogether.

The girl stumbles slightly at his sudden halt, her grip on the speaker slipping. Jungkook’s hands dart out instinctively, but she catches herself before he touches her. He pulls back quickly, murmuring, “You okay?”

“Yeah, uh, yeah. Sorry, I’m such a klutz sometimes,” she replies, her voice flustered.

Your lips press into a thin line as you watch, something sharp curling in your stomach.

He’s not doing anything, you tell yourself. He didn’t even touch her.

But he would’ve if she hadn’t caught herself, a snide voice in the back of your head sneers, cutting through your logic.

You shake off the thought, ignoring the way your chest tightens as Jungkook shifts. His hand brushes over his jaw while she continues speaking, her words softer now.

You don’t hear much after that. It’s not because the hallway is loud—it’s not. It’s the pounding of your pulse in your ears, drowning out everything else.

Jungkook finishes the bottle of water, twisting the cap back on with a quick flick of his wrist. “I gotta go,” he says, lifting the empty bottle as a gesture of thanks before brushing past her.

She hesitates, her hand still on the speaker’s handle as she watches him walk away. Her face burns red, and she fidgets slightly, but eventually, she turns back to her task, dragging the speaker further down the hall.

Your eyes stay fixed on Jungkook as he reaches the dressing room door. His free hand lifts to wipe the sweat from his face with the bottom hem of his shirt, the toned lines of his stomach flashing briefly before the fabric falls back into place. The drumsticks clutched in his other hand tap lightly against the now-empty bottle as he disappears inside.

Taehyung pulls your attention back, rubbing your arm soothingly before nodding toward the door. “You coming?”

You nod quickly, shaking off the haze that lingers as you follow him down the hall.

The dressing room is warm and noisy, Jin and Yoongi sprawled out like they’ve been there for hours. Yoongi greets you with a rare smile, handing you a can of seltzer as you lean down to hug them both. Jin, already halfway through his beer, ruffles your hair affectionately before leaning back into the couch like he’s clocking out for the night.

You drop down beside Jungkook, your usual spot on his lap notably left empty. His brow furrows immediately, the arm around your waist tightening slightly as he tries to pull you closer to him.

“No, J,” you mutter, giving him a pointed look.

He grumbles under his breath, clearly displeased, but his hand slips down to link with yours instead. His thumb brushes idly over your knuckles, and for now, he settles.

The conversation flows around you as Taehyung throws out an invitation to his place. “Jimin’s been baking all day,” he says. “And we’ve still got drinks leftover from the other night.”

It’s an easy yes from everyone. The energy in the room shifts, a slow wind-down as cans and bottles are finished and the band starts getting ready to head out.

When you stand, Taehyung catches your arm, pulling you aside as Jungkook follows, his arm still firmly around your waist. “Hey, just wanna make sure you’re okay,” he says, his head tilted in slight concern.

Jungkook frowns, his gaze falling to your face. “Why wouldn’t she be? Did something happen?”

Taehyung glances at you, waiting for permission before answering. After you shrug and turn to Jungkook, Taehyung speaks. “Some dude wouldn’t leave her alone earlier,” he says simply.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his grip around your waist firming. Your hand squeezes his as you tilt your head at Taehyung. “I’m really okay, Tae, but thank you for looking out for me.”

Taehyung studies you for a moment longer, then nods. “Always.” He pulls you into a quick hug before doing the same with Jungkook. “Jimin’s waiting outside. You guys need a ride back to our place?”

Your gaze shifts to Jungkook. He stays quiet, his tongue working the inside of his cheek, eyes unfocused.

“We’ll come together,” you answer after a beat.

Taehyung nods, flashing you both a smile before heading for the door. The room empties out slowly after that, the others trailing behind Taehyung until it’s just you and Jungkook left in the quiet.

You glance at Jungkook as you shift on your feet. “Do you want me to order an Ub—”

“What did he do?”

You look up, his jaw tight as he stares at you. “That guy,” he starts again, quieter now, his words laced with tension. “Did he do something to you? Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“J,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It was nothing. Just some loser.”

He watches you carefully, his eyes searching for something you’re not sure he’ll find. “And you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” you nod.

His frown doesn’t relent as he closes the space between you in a few slow steps. His voice dips lower as he murmurs, “Fucking hate seeing guys trying to get with you, Y/n… not knowing you’re mine—”

Your eyes roll before you can stop yourself. “Let’s not do this right now, J.”

His brows pinch. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” you bite back, your tone a little sharper. “Especially not when you’ve got bitches crawling all over you, and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Baby—”

“No, like this is so fucked, Jungkook. I’m tired of it. You promised me a cute night tonight, and I didn't get it. Fuck you.”

His teeth tug at his lip ring as he shakes his head, ready to apologize again, but you’re not done.

“And what about her? That slutty mic tech or whatever the fuck she is, leaning down with her tits all in your face? Or just so happening to have a fresh bottle of water ready for you backstage? God, don’t.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re jealous—”

“And then you do this!” you whine, throwing your hands up. “I’m tired of it, J. If I’m just another one of your groupies, what the fuck ever. But don’t be surprised when I go find someone who—”

His voice cuts through your rant with a hum. “Someone who what?”

He’s right in front of you now, so close that you have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. His eyes flick between yours, waiting for an answer you don’t fucking have.

“You want someone else, baby?” he presses, his voice dropping even further.

Your lips twist, a bratty huff escaping as your frustration crumbles under his intensity. “No, you fucking asshole.”

His head tilts, his lips quirking into something between a smirk and a grin. “No?” he mocks lightly, his tone teasing, coaxing.

“No,” you mumble, quieter this time.

He hums, leaning closer, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger, grazing the side of your face as his gaze softens, his teasing edge dissolving into something heavier.

“And what do you want, baby?”

You blink, your eyes flicking to the thick line of his arm beside your face, his cologne and sweat mixing into something intoxicating. It fills your lungs, dizzying you more than you want to admit.

“You, idiot,” you mumble. “Want you.”

His lips twitch as he leans down, his voice a low hum against your mouth. “Y’wanna be mine, baby?”

Your eyes flutter shut, your body tilting toward him like it’s instinctual. His mouth grazes yours, soft and teasing, like he’s pretending to give you a choice.

But you know better.

There is no choice. It’s him. It’s always been him.

His lips press fully against yours, damp and plush from the way he’s been licking over them all night between backing vocals. You melt into the kiss, your hands slipping under the hem of his shirt to press against the warm, slightly sticky skin of his back. He leans in closer, jaw tilting as his tongue coaxes your mouth open. You keen softly, sucking the muscle between your lips and savoring the low groan he gives in return.

Then you pull back.

His eyes blink open slowly, a haze clouding his dark irises as he stares down at you.

“Do you want that?” you ask softly, tilting your head.

“Do I want you to be mine?” he echoes, his brows lifting slightly, his head shaking like the question is absurd.

You give him a pointed look, nodding just enough to make it bratty.

“I thought you were already mine,” he murmurs, his hands sliding down your dress. His touch is reverent, his gaze dipping over you as a satisfied grunt escapes his lips. “I’m already yours, baby..”

“Just mine,” you lean into his hold, your words brushing against his skin, “nobody else’s…”

“Just yours,” he nods firmly, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours, the softest smile tugging at his lips. “There’s been no one else since you, baby.”

The back of your neck tingles as his pretty nose drags along yours, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your pout before trailing down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His breath is warm, his lips brushing against your skin as he mumbles, “I just didn’t think you wanted the title…”

Your brows pull together, and your hands slide up to cup his face, tugging him back so you can look him in the eye. “I want the title.”

One corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked little smile, his head tilting just enough to press a kiss to your palm. “Okay,” he murmurs, his voice quiet but sure. “Then you can have it, angel.”

A hum of satisfaction escapes you, your hands squeezing his cheeks with a smile. He chuckles softly, leaning back down to steal another kiss, but you pull away before he can reach you.

“Oi,” he grumbles, the faintest pout forming on his lips. “Why? I want a kiss.”

Your hands drop from his face, crossing over your chest as you fix him with a look. “Ask me.”

His eyebrows shoot up, amusement flickering across his features. “What—? I thought we just—”

“No.” You huff, squinting at him as you take a step back, dodging his hands when he reaches for you. “I want the proper thing. I’ve been waiting so long for the girlfriend title. Ask me properly.”

Jungkook stares at you for a moment, his lips twitching as he fights back a groan at your cuteness. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Your squint sharpens, your stance firm despite the way your heart jumps when his lips curve into a grin.

“Aishh,” he chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slightly before stepping closer. “Y/n,” he starts, voice soft but teasing, “will you be my girlf—”

“Yes!”

You don’t let him finish, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him down to meet your lips, cutting off the surprised huff he lets out. Your arms loop around his neck as you pull him in, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His hands find your waist, steadying you, but you’re already slipping your tongue past his lips, swallowing the low groan he gives.

When you finally pull back for air, your breath is shaky, your lips humming. You stare at him, taking in his swollen mouth and the mess of his hair, his pupils blown wide they almost swallow the brown of his irises. He looks so good it’s almost fucking devastating.

“God, yes,” you murmur, your fingers brushing over his jaw before tugging him back down.

“You’re—okay with this—” Jungkook murmurs between heated kisses, his words coming in low breaths. “Your gap year’s almost over, baby—mmf—the distance… me being gone all the time?”

You pull back just enough to see his face, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His words hit you, and for a moment, all you can do is blink, your mind racing to keep up with the weight of what he’s asking.

“I can do my studies remotely,” you say finally, your voice soft but sure. Your hands slide up his shoulders as you tilt your head, searching his gaze for a hint of doubt. “I can…” You pause, swallowing as your heartbeat kicks up. “Like… travel with you, if you wanted—”

Jungkook surges forward, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that feels like he’s pouring every unspoken thought straight into your mouth. His hands grip your thighs, tugging you closer until your soft body’s pressed tight against him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters, voice rough as his mouth moves against yours. The groan he lets out vibrates through you when you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging lightly before letting it slip free. “I had no fucking idea, baby. I would’ve...”

You hum softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your breath coming in quick. “Would’ve what?”

His fingers tighten on the curve of your ass, holding you steady as he leans in, his lips brushing yours. “Would’ve made you mine the first time I fucking took you, baby,” he murmurs, his tongue slipping back into your mouth.

A breathy laugh escapes as you lean into him, your hands threading through the damp strands of his hair. “So... the first night we met?” you tease, your voice swallowed by his eager mouth.

“Pretty much,” he chuckles against your lips, his tone low and sinful as his hands drop to the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up easily. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, and he carries you the few steps to the couch, dropping down with you prettily perched in his lap.

His lips find yours again, hungrier, wetter. His tongue pushes into your mouth, licking deep into you, chasing the tang of raspberry seltzer still lingering on your tongue. His hands roam higher, sliding over the fabric of your dress, fingertips pressing as they search for skin.

Without breaking the kiss, your fingers fumble with the little zip at the front of your jacket, the metallic sound making him pause. Jungkook leans back just slightly, his gaze dropping to your hands as you slide the zipper down. His tongue darts over his lip as the fabric falls away, leaving your corset-top barely holding your tits in place.

“Fuck,” he breathes, the word guttural. His eyes trail over your exposed skin, his hands moving on instinct to pull the hem of your dress down. The fabric drops, and your breasts spill free into his waiting hands, his thumbs eagerly brushing over your hardened nipples.

His mouth surges forward, latching onto your left nipple with a deep groan. He exhales through his nose, the sound almost a sigh, like his whole body just relaxed the second he had you in his mouth.

“God,” you whimper, your hips rolling against the bulge in his jeans, your hands gripping the back of his neck as you tilt your head back in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he grunts around your nipple, his wide tongue swirling over the peak before sucking gently. “These fucking tits,” he mutters, his voice thick as his hands knead the soft flesh. “Big, juicy fucking tits. All fucking mine, yeah?”

“Mmmh,” you whine, grinding harder as your fingers tug at the ends of his long hair, your thighs tightening around his hips. “All yours, Jungkookie. Always been yours.”

His cock twitches beneath you at the nickname, and his eyes flick up to your face. He coos through his mouthful before gently switching to your other bud.

“All mine,” he mumbles, the words muffled as he chews softly on your hard nipple, pulling a breathy moan from your lips. His big hands press your tits together, bringing them closer to his face, and he pulls back slightly to hum. “All daddy’s, isn’t that right, angel?”

“Nnnm,” you whine, your hips stuttering against him as the teasing tone has you clenching around nothing. “Yes, daddy. All yours. No one else’s.”

“Mm, that’s my girl.” His tongue flicks over your nipple one last time, pulling a soft gasp from your lips before his hand slides up to the front of your throat.

He brings you back down to his mouth, your tongues meeting immediately, wet and eager. His grip stays steady on your neck, thumb brushing softly along the sides as your hands bury deeper into his hair. The roll of your hips against his lap matches the rhythm of the kiss, each grind pulling a quiet groan from his throat that vibrates into your mouth.

The room is silent save for the wet, slick sounds of your lips and the rustle of your dampening panties against his jeans. Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around your neck, and you lean into it, moaning lowly when he catches your tongue between his teeth.

You pull back, your breaths uneven as you take hold of the wrist still resting at your throat, guiding it away. Your eyes meet his as you bring his hand to your lips, your tongue flicking over the tips of his middle fingers before sucking them into your mouth. No reason, really. Because you want to. Becaue you can.

Jungkook’s gaze stays heavy on you, his lids low as his tongue drags over his lip. You release his fingers with a soft pop, and he licks the remnants of your saliva from his hand when you let go.

Sliding off his lap, you reach for the zipper of his jeans, pulling it down with haste. You shimmy the denim over his hips, just far enough to bare his briefs. His cock presses against the black fabric, hard and thick, the sight alone making your stomach rumble.

Leaning down, you brush your lips over the length of him, the heat of his cock radiating through the cotton. A soft, hungry hum slips from you, and Jungkook groans quietly, his head tipping back against the couch.

One of his hands moves to the cushion beside him, the other slipping into your hair, brushing it back as you mouth over his covered cock.

Your hand slides under the waistband of his briefs, your lip catching between your teeth as his warm, hard length pulses against your palm. You pull him free, savoring the low curse that slips from his lips when you guide it to your lips and take the thick tip into your mouth.

“Shit, baby,” he huffs, his hips lifting slightly as your tongue swirls over the head.

“That’s it,” he mutters, his voice rough and breathy. “Get it nice and wet for daddy. Go on, baby.”

Your eyelids feel heavy as you obey, pushing spit to the front of your mouth and soaking his tip in it. The slick sound fill the quiet room, mixing with Jungkook’s sharp breaths and the low grunts slipping from his lips.

Your tongue moves slowly, wetting him nice and thoroughly, and his fingers twitch where they hold your hair out of your face. His head tips back further, a deep groan escaping as his hips up rock into your mouth on instinct.

Your lips work sloppily over his length as you take him deeper, your hand pumping the base as he groans low in his chest. “Good girl, baby,” he mutters, his fingers brushing the curve of your jaw as he watches you, his lashes heavy. “Such a good fucking girl.”

The praise makes you ache, the wetness pooling between your legs unbearable. Jungkook seems to sense it, his hand wrapping around your arm to pull you off him with a wet pop. His lips are on yours the moment you’re upright, licking into your mouth like he’s chasing his own taste on your tongue.

You melt against him, humming softly as his hands cup your waist, guiding you back until your spine presses into the couch. He hovers over you, his bigger frame warm between your parted thighs. Your boots dig into the cushions on either side of him, but he doesn’t care. Neither do you.

Jungkook’s hands are hasty as he pushes the fabric of your dress up your thighs, exposing the black lace stretched over your dripping core. His adam’s apple bobs as he hums, his thumb brushing over the darkened patch where your slick has seeped through.

“So pretty, baby,” he murmurs, pressing his tattooed thumb firmly against you. The friction makes you gasp, your hips jerking toward his hand.

The lace doesn’t last long. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls it down just enough to expose you, wasting no time before dipping down. His mouth latches onto your pussy in one go, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your hands flying to his hair. The heat of his mouth is overwhelming, his tongue teasing your swollen clit before dragging down to press at your entrance. He groans as he tastes you, sucking your folds into his mouth like a greedy fuck.

You whimper when his teeth graze your clit, his tongue circling the bud before flicking over it repeatedly. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against your pussy fills the room, and your hips buck against his face—

“Uh… J-Jungkook?”

You freeze, your eyes snapping to the door as your blood runs cold.

There is no fucking way.

Jungkook doesn’t stop. If anything, his movements grow greedier, his mouth slurping noisily at your cunt as though he didn’t hear a thing.

You bite back a moan when the bitch's voice comes again, shaky and hesitant. “Sorry, uh… your friends got you a driver, and it’s—uh—can you hear me? Should I come in?”

Your hand tightens in Jungkook’s hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole. “Tell her to fuck off,” you gasp, your voice pitching higher when his lips close around your clit. “Jung- fuck- Jungkook.”

He hums into your pussy, the vibration shooting through you as his tongue drags lower. “You do it, baby,” he murmurs, the words muffled by your slick folds. His lips press deeper you as he mumbles. “Tell her your boyfriend’s busy, hm?”

Jungkook’s mouth doesn’t falter, his jaw working as he fits as much of you into his mouth as he can, lips wrapping around your folds while his tongue drags over your clit. His jaw moves, sucking and licking, pulling sinful sounds from your throat like it’s his final fucking mission.

His hand fumbles to the side of the couch, searching for something, but you barely register it through the haze of pleasure. “Jungkook, seriously—”

The girl’s voice cuts through again, louder this time. “Uh, I don’t know if you can hear me, so I’m going to come in—”

Before the words fully register, you feel it. The slick, cool tip of a drumstick sliding into your cunt.

“Fuck!” The cry rips from your throat, loud and uncontrollable as your back arches off the couch. The stretch is sharp, sudden, but it has your toes curling, pleasure overtaking every thought as your grip tightens on his hair.

The sound outside the door ceases instantly, but you couldn’t give a fuck less.

Jungkook doesn’t stop, his tongue relentless as it flicks over your clit, fast and precise, his lips drenched as they lap at your soaked pussy. He glances up, watching you through his lashes, his big eyes dark as he gauges your reaction.

He’s slipped plenty of things inside you before—his fingers, his cock, even the handle of a vibrator… but never this. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a fantasy of his, something he’d thought about during one too many late-night practices when you were at home and he was missing you.

“That okay, baby?” he murmurs with a mouth full of pussy. His long fingers grip the drumstick firmly, holding it still, not pushing deeper until you give the green light. His thumb brushes the edge of your clit, adding another layer of friction as his tongue continues its work. “Gonna let daddy fuck you with it, baby?”

“Yesss,” you whine, your head lolling against the couch. Your thighs tremble around his head as you pant, the word spilling from your lips like a fucking prayer. “Yes, please, daddy. God, I fucking want it, baby, please.”

Jungkook groans into your cunt as he presses the drumstick deeper, the slick glide making your legs quake. His tongue continues it's soft, wet work against your clit, a little slower as he eases the stick into your hole.

He works it in deeper, his pace quickening with every breathy moan that falls from your lips. The smooth wood glides in and out of your pussy with ease, covered in your juices everytime it pulls out, and the angle he’s hitting has your back arching into his mouth, your thighs trembling around his head.

“Fuckk,” you gasp, your nails scratching into the couch, desperate for something to hold onto as the thin stick brushes your g-spot. “Fuck, daddy—”

He groans against you, his lips dragging over your clit before his tongue flicks faster and faster. “That good, baby?” He hums, “daddy making you feel good, hm?”

“So fucking gooodd,” you cry, your chest heaving, your hips chasing the movements of his hand as he thrusts the drumstick faster. Your walls clamp around it as your head spins, tears welling in your eyes.

Jungkook gives one more slurp before pulling back just enough to catch your fucked-out expression. His lips glisten with your slick, hair messy from your tugging. “Want the other one, baby?” he asks, voice honeyed with mockery as his thumb brushes over your clit.

You whimper without hesitation, your thighs clenching around his head. “Fuck, please, daddy. Please.”

“Mmm,” he hums in satisfaction, his tongue dragging a long, wet stripe over your clit as he reaches for the second stick.

You barely have a moment to prepare before the second one presses into you, your toes curling as he works it in beside the first. “Oh my fuck,” you choke, your head falling back against the couch.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches as he watches you, his hands tight around the sticks as he thrusts them together, slow at first, then faster. And faster.

His greedy mouth is back on you, his tongue lapping at your clit, wet and messy, the dirty, soppy sounds of his lips and the squelch of your pussy taking the drumsticks echoing in the room.

“Fuck,” you moan, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your hips buck into his mouth. “Gonna fucking cum, daddy. So—fuck, uhhhhh!”

“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his lips wrapping around your swollen bud, sucking hard as he thrusts the drumsticks relentlessly into you. “Show that bitch who’s daddy’s girl, huh? Gonna cum on my tongue? On my drumsticks? ‘Cause only you can, huh baby? My fucking baby.”

Your whole body seizes at his words, your head snapping back as a strangled cry rips from your throat. Your vision blacks out, your body trembling violently as the orgasm rips through you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you sob, your walls clenching hard around the sticks as wetness gushes out, soaking his hand, his mouth, the couch beneath you. Jungkook groans loudly, his lips glued to your clit as he sucks you through it, his tongue flicking over the nub as you writhe beneath him.

“That’s my fucking girl,” Jungkook groans, his voice thick as he leans in for one last lick, dragging his tongue slowly up your pretty slit. He pulls back just enough to watch your pussy twitch, glistening and flushed, clenching around the sticks as you whimper weakly.

“Jungkookie,” you manage through trembling breaths, your body trembling under his heavy gaze. “Th-thank you, fuck.”

He hums against you, his big eyes darting up to meet yours as his lips curl into a satisfied smirk. “Any fucking time, baby, shitt.”

You shudder as he finally eases the drumsticks out of you, slick dripping from the tips as your thighs twitch. You watch through hooded eyes as he raises them to his lips, sucking your wetness off, the hollow of his throat bobbing at the sweet taste. Once clean, he tosses them carelessly to the side, licking over his lips as his gaze drops back down to your wrecked cunt.

“Messy girl,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing as his fingers trace over the sticky mess between your thighs.

Your eyes fall lower, catching the tip of his cock peeking out from the waistband of his briefs, red and dripping. Your breath catches, your hands instinctively sliding up his arms, tracing the ink there as your gaze stays locked on it.

Jungkook notices, his tongue running over his swollen lips as he chuckles. “You want it, baby?”

You swallow hard, your eyes flicking up to meet his through your lashes. “Please, daddy.”

He groans softly at the way you look at him, nodding before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s so wet, everything is wet as your lips part to welcome his tongue when he licks into your mouth, giving you every bit of the taste of yourself. You suck greedily on his tongue, and he groans low in his chest, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer.

Your hands slide up to wrap around his neck, holding him as he reaches down between you, adjusting his briefs and pulling himself free. He pulls back slightly to look down as he drags the tip of his cock through your soaking folds, catching on your clit.

“Need to fuck you so bad, baby,” he mutters, his voice rasping with need. “Need you to feel how much I fucking love you.”

Your breath hitches, your hands tightening around his neck as his words hang between you. His cock stills against your entrance once he realizes what he just said, his head snapping up.

“You love me?” you whisper, your voice quiet as your gaze flicks between his eyes.

He blinks, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. Then, with a soft nod, he admits it. "So much, baby."

You beam, your face breaking into the brightest smile, and it’s enough to make his chest swell. You tug him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a wet, giddy kiss.

His lips are soft against yours, but the way he kisses you is anything but. It’s raw as his tongue slides against yours, his hands tightening around your waist, pouring himself into you.“I love you, J. Holy shittt, baby!!”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face as he smiles, his lips red and swollen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, so fucking giddy, your hands cradling his face as you lean up to kiss him again. “Now fuck me, please.”

He chuckles, the sound low and sweet before leaning down to press a kiss to your neck. His lips brush against your skin as he shifts, lining himself back up with your entrance.

The moment he pushes in, your breath catches. The stretch burns so good as he sinks into you slowly, his cock thick and pulsing, the loud, slick sound of your arousal filling the room as he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his head falling forward as his hands grip your thighs. “So fucking wet, baby. You fucking feel that?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you adjust to the fullness. “So full, Jungkookie.”

He groans at the sound of his name, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward, a little harder this time. You gasp, your back arching into him as he sets a slow, deep pace, every thrust hitting you delicious and deep.

“So fucking good, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with praise. “So perfect for me. Take me so well, always.”

Your hands find his hair, tugging at the strands as your head falls back, exposing your neck to him. He takes the opportunity, his lips finding your skin, sucking at the flesh as his thrusts grow faster.

The wet sounds of your bodies moving together, the squelch of your pussy soaking him, his breathy groans and your desperate moans— they drown out every other thought.

“Fuck, Jungkookie,” you cry out, your legs locking tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Y-yes, yes, oh my goddd.”

He grunts low in his chest, his pace quickening as he chases your high, each thrust hitting your g-spot with reckless precision. “That’s it, baby,” he rasps, his voice rough and wrecked, eyes glued to the way your tits bounce with every snap of his hips. “Cum for your boyfriend. C'mon. Show me how much you fucking love me.”

“Fuck, baby—fuck!” your voice breaks into a high-pitched whine, the sound desperate as your nails dig into the sweaty shirt stretched over his back. “Gonna fuckingg cummm, baby. God, fuck—fuck—”

You shatter around him, your orgasm crashing over you in a sore wave, your body shaking as your pussy clamps down on his cock. Jungkook groans, his lips finding yours to swallow your cries as his thrusts don’t relent, driving you through every pulse.

“Gonna take my cum, baby?” he grits out against your lips, your head tipping back as his breath fans over your sweaty skin. His hands tighten their hold on your thighs, keeping you locked in place. “Huh? Gonna take it all ‘cause you love me so fucking much, yeah?”

“Y-yes, baby,” you sob, your body jerking from the oversensitivity as he keeps pushing deeper and deeper. “I fucking love you, Jungkookie—please, give it to me. Give it, baby. Fucking give it!”

A deep, guttural curse spills from his lips as he stills, his cock buried deep as his release hits. Warmth floods your hole as he fills you, every drop making you whimper, your legs trembling around him. His forehead drops to your neck, his damp hair sticking to your skin as he pants heavily.

“God, I fucking love you,” he mutters, his voice thick as he presses his lips to your collarbone. “Never gonna get over saying that.”

“My sappy boyfriend,” you tease, your fingers threading through his sweaty hair, scratching softly at his scalp as he groans into your skin. “Who would’ve thought?”

Jungkook lifts his head, his dark eyes narrowing as he gives you a look. You smile sweetly, dragging a finger across his swollen lips as you snicker. “I love you too, daddy.”

sorry for the delay, i was having a mental breakdown bites lips

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hoonieyun · 6 days ago

Text

a lovesick girl's guide to heartbreak

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ fwb!jake x reader i start fights cause i wanna makeup... summary: although you specified with jake that you were only looking for a fwb, you just love getting a kick out of pushing his buttons. after all, as much as you like starting fights with him, you like making up with him after even more.

warnings: kissing, drinking and playing beer pong, jake and yn are not good people, i'm not sure the term but they use other people to get back at one another, suggestive, consensual skinship, possessive!jake, jake slightly chokes yn but its consensual!! bratty!reader ,18+ wc: 3729

hoonieyun notes: this is probably the spiciest one out of this series but no smut because i can't bring myself to write it so everything is quite suggestive lol

you’re getting ready to go to a party when a text on your phone catches your attention. setting down your lipstick and reaching for your phone, a smile appears on your lips as you read the text in your head.

from: jaeyun need me to pick you up baby?

the text reads and you’re smirking to yourself knowing that you’ve got something up your sleeve. jake has gotten on your nerves lately because although the two of you weren’t exclusive, you were each other’s exclusive friends with benefits, meaning you two would only be seeing each other but not dating.

however, he loves to act like you’re just some girl when the two of you are in public, ignoring your advances and doing his best to act like he isn’t smitten with you after spending the weekend at your apartment, cuddling you in his sleep and making you breakfast in the morning.

sure, it was nice to have a warm body next to you when you slept at night but you were beginning to think that jake was becoming more than somebody you wanted to fuck around with and could see a life with him as your boyfriend, the only thing was you weren’t sure if he felt the same way.

he always acted differently from the jaeyun that you knew in your bedroom and the jake that you knew when it came to being around your friends and in public. you wouldn’t necessarily say he was ashamed to be with you but more often than not it felt like he was hiding this relationship the two of you had like it was something to be ashamed of.

you decide not to respond and set your phone back down to finish the last of your makeup but another text rings once again. you go to look at your phone to see another text from jake, this time he’s being less sweet and more assertive with you.

from: jaeyun alright, i’ll see you at the party i guess

you roll your eyes in annoyance at the fact that he was being so passive aggressive but you couldn’t blame him because you were being just as passive aggressive and even more with what you had planned for the night. another text appears on your phone but its from a different person this time, now a smile on your face that wasn’t partnered with mischievous.

from: myungjae :3 hi cutie, i’m outside. take your time, ok?”

myungjae was your plan for the night. if jake wasn’t going to flaunt you around like somebody he was proud to have on his arm, you’ll find somebody that would and you did. myungjae was a guy you had met at jake’s soccer game. he had come up to you before the game when you were at a vending machine and you learned that he was a player at your university’s rival team. you texted occasionally and myungjae wasn’t shy to show you how much he wanted to take you out on a date.

out of respect for jake, you always politely declined myungjae’s advances but as of lately, jake’s behavior has pissed you off so much that you didn’t care anymore that you yourself asked myungjae out on a date; to which he enthusiastically accepts.

a part of you did feel bad that you were using him to get back at jake but at the end of the day, it’s all fun and games, right?

you quickly spritz perfume onto your exposed clavicle and admire yourself in your mirror one last time before heading outside to meet myungjae. flipping your hair over your shoulder and thinking about how killer you looked tonight, knowing how you could have any guy crawling after you tonight.

when you exit your apartment, you see myungjae outside leaning on the hood of his car as he waits for you, you smile and do a slight jog to get to him, trying to make sure you don’t fall over in your heels. “hi, myungjae.” you say in a sickly and sweet voice.

“hi, cutie.” he says, smiling down at your pretty face, taking in your features and overall demeanor, he doesn’t even notice he’s checking you out until you playfully slap his chest. “keep it in your pants, mister.” you taunt and he rolls his eyes with a smirk knowing that you know how much of an effect you have on him. you place a small kiss on his cheek before he opens the door for you and grabs your hand to help you in. you watch as myungjae runs around the car to get to the driver’s side, sliding into his seat and making your way to the party– his hand on your exposed thigh the whole drive.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

when you get to the party, myungjae doesn’t leave your side at all, one of his arms is constantly draped around your shoulder or waist, or his soft hands gently wrapped around yours. it was a party by someone at your university so he only knew a few people aside from you. he follows you as you make your rounds throughout the party like he was a lost puppy and you had given him a sliver of attention that he craved.

you introduce myungjae to a lot of your friends and find your way to the kitchen where you fix the two of you a drink, a concoction inside of a red solo cup of whatever looked good and a cold glass of beer of myungjae, explaining that he’ll only have one bottle because he wants to be sober to ensure he gets you home safely. you found him so cute, pinching his cheek, if your brain wasn’t so tainted with the idea of jake you probably would’ve chosen myungjae a long time ago but jake was just constantly running on your mind no matter how badly or well he treated you in and outside of your bedroom.

as jake enters the kitchen, his steps slow down when he sees you handing myungjae his beer, clearing his throat to get both of your attention.

“yn, nice to see you.” he says, anger clearly in his eyes.

“hi, jaeyun.” you say, using the name he said was specifically reserved for you.

“have you met myungjae? he plays for the bonedo soccer team.” you ask even though all three of you know the answer to that as jake and myungjae are known to have quite the rivalry. “sup, man.” myungjae says, raising his glass to jake and jake just nods in response before stomping over to the fridge to get a beer of his own.

“have fun.” you say as he leaves the kitchen, knowing that you were not beginning to get under his skin just by showing up with not only another man, but also a man that he didn’t like. “you guys good?” myungjae asks and you turn to him with a bright smile and nod, “mhmm, don’t worry your pretty head.” you say, toasting your cup with his bottle and taking a sip of your drink, smirking to yourself once again now that your plan for the night has begun.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you’re dancing with myungjae when you glance over to a corner of the room and see that jake was sitting on the couch with yunjin in his lap, twirling her hair while jake stared at her lips. you couldn’t believe it, jake was trying to play the same game as you by getting with a girl that you didn't like. you always voiced to jake how much you didn’t like yunjin because you felt like she was always competing with you for things that didn’t matter like when she got chosen for an internship over you and told everyone it was because she was smarter than you when in reality it was because the ceo of that tech company was her godfather.

jake suddenly catches your gaze and smiles at you as if he was saying, “two can play at that game.” and you know what, two can certainly play that game so to piss jake off even more, you switch your position from facing myungjae with your hands around his shoulder to having your backside to his front, moving his hands to your waist instead as the music picks up and your bodies begin to move in unison.

if anyone saw the two of you right now they would probably mistake you and myungjae as a couple and knowing that people were perceiving you that way only angered jake further because although he would act like he didn’t know you in public, he was the only would that should be touching you in that way.

when you revert your gaze back to jake you see that he’s angrily storming out of the room, leaving yunjin with an annoyed expression as she’s left alone on the couch also watching jake leave the room.

yn: 2 jake: 1

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the next time you see jake, he’s with chaewon in the kitchen, his hand fiddling with the hem of her crop top, a longing gaze in her eyes as she watches jake who you knew wouldn’t return the same expression because he would only look at you that way.

you and myungjae make your way back inside of the kitchen to fix yourself another drink, ignoring jake and chaewon because you didn’t want to give them the attention jake wanted from you so bad. you bring your cup to myungjae’s lips as you offer him a sip and he takes a small sip because he just can’t resist the look in your eyes.

jake on the other hand is tightening his jaw and is gripping his cup so hard that it constricts, causing the liquid on the inside to splash onto him and chaewon, “what the fuck?” she exclaims, causing you and myungjae to look over at them. you see chaewon swipe her hands in annoyance to get rid of the beer on her skin and jake apologetically follows her out of the kitchen as she storms out. you roll your eyes and shake your head knowing that jake couldn’t beat you in your own game.

no matter how hard he tries to get under your skin, you were already deep under there.

yn: 3 jake: 2

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you soon find yourself competing against jake and chaewon in a game of beer pong with myungjae. you were surprised he was very good which you knew only made jake angrier as he wasn’t the best at the game. you had even warned jake that he should probably find another couple to play against, boasting about myungjae’s abilities without knowing if your bluffs were true.

the sound of you calling yourself and myungjae a “couple” sets him and causes him to start the game before you even accept his challenge– and with just a few tosses, you and myungjae have only lost one cup while jake and chaewon had lost all but one cup.

it was myungjae’s turn to toss the ball and for good luck, he asks you to blow on the ball and you oblige. blowing on to it with puckered lips and an unbreaking gaze with myungjae. jake is gripping the edge of the table as he watches the two of you, chaewon standing off to the side disinterested in any of this as she’s noticed that jake was more focused on trying to win you over and competing with myungjae than he was interested in her. at some point she ends up leaving after she receives a text from yunjin saying that jake ghosted her at the party so she leaves without notice and jake definitely doesn’t notice her absence.

when myungjae skillfully tosses the ping pong ball towards the cup, it goes right in, earning cheers from everyone watching and most importantly, you. you’re jumping up and down while clapping, proud that myungjae has successfully won you the beer pong game and to reward him you’re about to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss but you’re suddenly dragged away when jake grabs onto your wrist and pulls you outside into the front yard.

“let me go, jake!” you yell, trying to free your hand but his grip on you is relentless and there was no way you were freeing yourself.

“are you done?” he asks and you look at him with an expression that reads like you had no idea what he was talking about. jake inches closer, his nose almost touching yours as he looks down into your eyes with so much fury in his eyes at the stunt you had pulled tonight. you looked up at him with an arrogant gaze knowing that your plan was successful, flashing him a smile like you were so innocent in all of this, jake can’t help but smirk at you; wiping his face with aggravation.

“yn, are you ok?” myungjae says from behind as he stands at the door.

before you could even respond, jake flashes his middle finger at the poor guy and drags you to his car, leaving myungjae behind without an explanation; a noticeable pout on his lips as he watches you willingly leave with jake and get inside of his car.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the drive to jake’s apartment was quiet, his jawline more prominent than usual as he’s constantly flexing his jaw in annoyance, trying to think of what he wanted to say to you but all he had in his head was how he was going to make you beg after being so bratty all night.

the grip he had on your thigh was a lot different than the one myungjae has on you hours before, jake squeezing your thigh with so much force that when he let go as you arrived at his apartment, there was a visible print on your skin.

“get inside.” he says and you know not to disobey him further, a smile on your face as you think about all of your efforts tonight being successful and how this was the result that you wanted. sure it was wrong to start a fight with jake all because you wanted to but at the end of the day, it was his fault for acting like he didn’t crave your touch every night.

it may be wrong to like to start fights but it was all because you enjoyed making up after a lot more.

when you enter jake’s apartment, he’s right on your heel, shutting his door behind you and pressing you against the door, his hand wrapping around your neck. “you wanna act like a brat?” he taunts, eyes scanning your face and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find jake’s behavior attractive. you decide to stay silent to push his buttons even more as he hates being ignored.

“hmph, i’ll make you regret acting like that.” he whispers into your ear, his lips lightly grazing your ear as he hauls you over his shoulder and takes you to his bedroom. you try to fight him off, squirming around but it is to no avail as his strong grip around you prevents you from moving around too much.

you were starting to think that this was all a bad idea but you couldn’t help but crave the way jake treats you whenever you act this way.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

after several hours of releasing tension, anger, and frustration; you and jake are laying on his bed, out of breath and staring into his ceiling. the blankets are covering the two of you and you’re laying in silence after everything that just happened. you got what you wanted and so did jake even if he was furious with you just a few hours ago.

“you still being bratty?” he says with a cocky smirk and you just roll your eyes at him as you sit up, bringing the blanket up further to cover yourself. “jake i wouldn’t be acting like this if you treated me the way i deserve to be treated.” you say and the harsh truth hits jake in a way that he didn’t expect.

he thought you were only acting like that because you wanted his attention but not because you were genuinely bothered by his behavior, “what are you even talking about?” jake says, turning towards you and propping up his arm with his elbow and resting his head into his hand.

“jake, you practically act like i don’t exist when we’re in public or with our friends.” you explain and jake huffs as if he was exhausted from this conversation already.

“we’re not even dating?” he says and now it was your turn to be furious with him. “that’s not the point, jake! you act like i don’t exist, you ignore me, and you act like you’re ashamed to be seen with me but once the sun sets you’re texting me to have me sleep in your bed.

how is that supposed to make me feel? i know we’re friends with benefits but the first word of that arrangement is ‘friend’ and you haven’t treated me like one.!” you shout and jake was getting up to get dressed, avoiding your gaze.

“oh and bringing myungjae’s ass to the party, were you being a good friend? you know i don’t like his ass!” he retorts and you’re standing up in aggravation because jake was not getting the point, “that doesn’t matter!” you try to yell back and he interrupts you, “yes it fucking does! you know i don’t like him and you still brought him to piss me off, why!” he shouts and jake has never raised his voice at you like this before. the two of you getting caught in a screaming match like no other as you both shout at the top of your lungs at one another.

“because i like you and i wanted to be with someone that liked me the way i like him but the whole time you were the only one on my mind, ok!” you shout, finally confessing to jake that you’ve developed feelings for him despite that being the golden rule of your arrangement.

never catch feelings.

jake wipes his face with a heavy sigh and you’re plopping back down onto the mattress after getting so worked up you found yourself standing on top of his bed, the blanket barely clinging onto you.

“what?” jake mutters.

“i like you, ok? i have for a while and it pisses me off that you act like i’m just some girl when we spend almost every night in each others arms, you hold me at night like you never want to let me go but when morning hits sometimes you’re gone before the birds even begin to chirp.

you make me feel things i know i’m not supposed to feel and it hurts, ok?” your chest is rising up and down as you finally let out your feelings and jake is looking at you like you’ve just told him your deepest and darkest secret.

“thats… no! you can’t like me, i’m not good for you!” he explains and you’re looking at him like none of the words that leave his mouth make any sense.

“you’re too good to me, you’re so sweet and kind and treat me like i’m the only thing that matters in your life even when i’ve been so shitty to you. even right now! i’ve been shitty to you and you’re professing your love to me and i don’t deserve it. i don’t deserve you!

you deserve better and i’m not that.” jake responds and you’re fighting off the tears pooling in your lashes.

“you don’t get to decide what i deserve..” you whisper and you’re staring at one another in silence.

jake is weighing the option in his head. he loved you so fucking bad, probably even more than you loved and his actions tonight showed that with how bad he fought for you despite you constantly choosing myungjae over him. if jake was being honest, he fell for you fairly quickly when he spent the night one weekend and gave him face masks to put on because you had made a comment on how dry his skin was. it was that small gesture that made him fall for you and everyday after he fell deeper and deeper.

jake was terrible for you and he knew that and although he wanted to be selfish and keep you all to himself, he knew that your life would only be miserable if you stayed with him. that’s why he started avoiding you and slowly distancing himself in hopes that it would just drive you away but it only drove him closer to you because he hated seeing another man touch what was his.

“no.” was all jake says and you didn’t need any further explanation. you’re jumping out of his bed and shoving past him to put your clothes back on and jake instantly regrets this, trying to get you to stay but it seems that jake has made up your mind for you by not rejecting you but dictating what you deserved; and it wasn’t him.

“wait- don’t leave, come on.” he begs and you’re shaking your head and wiping your tears away, angry that you were crying over a man who didn’t even spare your feelings after you had just confessed to him.

when jake tries to grab onto your arm to stop you from leaving, you’re quick to snatch your arm away and leave his room, standing at the door to listen to the last of his pleas, begging you to stay and explaining that you are meant to be and that jake didn’t mean what he said but it was all too late. you could tell he was just backtracking because he was scared of losing you and although you felt the same way and wanted nothing more to run back to him; you left jake in the darkness of his bedroom without another glance.

deciding that you do deserve better even if the realization came from a heartbreaking experience, the revelation a result of having to lose someone you once held so close to your heart.

"makeup" slayyyter x lolo zouai the usage of song lyrics is credited to the artists above

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

heart not broken enough? let's try again... ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

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#kiki diaries #enhypen #en-diaries #kpop #kpop au #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #enha #fanfiction #enhypen au #enhypen jake #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines

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ctheathy · 1 year ago

Note

OMG WAIT I JUST SAW YOU TAKE REQ FOR FLIPPY AND FLIQ (I don't wanna bombard you with request so this is it..for now-) could I request a

A flippy+fliqpy X reader who's Knows how to fight really well who was also a soldier and carries a bow and arrow most of the time to feel safe? So basically flippy and reader get along swell and reader understand His ptsd but one day they Goes to the Store and Reader sees blood everywhere! And they notice in the middle of it all fliqpys standing there his back facing reader, and the reader tries to back up but steps on a bag of chips so fliqpy turns around and tries to fight reader but loses so he sees reader as a comrade?

Fight Forwards Favour

Flippy+Fliqpy x Reader

Short oneshot

Author’s note: Thank you for the request, Nonnie!! I shall try my best with this one =}

This entire fight feels more like bickering tbh-

Flippy/Reader/Fliqpy [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Mention of corpses • Fliqpy being a mass murderer • Attempted stabbing •

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You silently cursed under your breath, making your way over to a different alley in the grocery store in a swift movement. Your eyes were flickering left and right as your ears perked up, trying to take note of every little noise that was audible to you. You felt so... so very paranoid when you couldn’t see him. ‘If he sabotages the lights right now, I’m doomed’ you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes, having a tight grip onto your bow for support. You had to be careful that you wouldn’t step and slip onto the many portions of blood and guts that was scattered across the floor.

You were already questioning your survival rate right about now, but you kept your mind off your potential demise and just concentrated on the situation itself. The dripping of blood was all you managed to hear in this current moment, along with the nasty smell of iron everywhere.

You inaudibly made yourself over to the front of the alley, trying to get a peek of where your old friend currently was... even if it was a highly risky move on your part. But your attention was peaked when you heard one of many products clattering onto the floor, but what especially caught your attention was how nearby it sounded.

He was so close ...

It wasn’t until the unsteady breathing and a loud yell from above the shelves could be heard that you stood your ground, reacting immediately when the situation called for it. The weight of another on top of you could be felt along with the sharpness of a blade slicing open the fragile skin on your cheek, making you let out a small wince of pain at the sensation. But you quickly pushed it to the side, knowing the green bear would likely go for your neck next if he got the chance.

Without warning, you grabbed him by the collar of his clothing with your free hand before mercilessly yanking him down and off of you in a karate-like manner, making him do a somersault in the process before he met the floor with a thud. Fliqpy let out a loud groan as he violently tried to reach you with the sharp weapon in his hand, aggressively swiping and doing everything in his power to just harm you. Especially as you currently having the upper hand frustrated him to no end, but you kept his hands into place. A tight grip onto his furred wrists to prevent him from lashing out.

You did not want to hurt him, you really didn’t...

This resulted in you not giving it all you had, your guard being a lot lower than his and him taking full advantage of that. Giving you a painful kick in the stomach with his feet, creating more distance between you two as you stumbled backwards. You quickly recomposed yourself as he came in for yet another strike with the blade, which you managed to dodge by rarely an inch, giving you goosebumps by just the looks of it. Especially after making more attempts to stab you to death. His speed only increasing, growing unpredictable.

The dodging was getting more exhausting over time, his wide eyes urging you to distress. You used the arrow in your grasp to try and block out any of the stabbing attempts he kept making over and over again. You came out of the attack unharmed, but it didn’t take long for you to be completely driven into the corner. He let out a sadistic and familiar chuckle, mocking you in your position as he took his sweet time making his way even closer towards you as. Teasing you by making stabbing motions with the knife itself. In which you just send him a small glare in response.

You had still been eerily calm in the entire situation, especially as most others would have been on the verge of a panic attack. But you just... Stared in the eyes of your friend, feeling a sense of remorse and guilt within yourself. Memories of the battlefield clouded your mind, the trauma and pain you both had gone through in the past. You couldn’t help but feel for Fliqpy too ... It wasn’t until another product fell down from the shelf you were cornered in that your mind was brought back to reality, snapped out of your thoughts.

You had only one arrow left and you knew you had to take the shot now you still had the chance. Without warning, you pulled out you bow and arrow, putting the bear as the main target. Threatening him as you held on tight. Without hesitance, you shot right over him, making it pierce through his hat and catching him slightly off guard by your sudden boldness. Even more so when you forcefully got a grip on his blade, snatching it away from him while tackling him to the floor. It was a fight between sides, as you both tried to regain that dominance you needed.

You both continued pushing and pulling, the only weapon you two had right now being your fists while you noticeably grew more violent with the second. It wasn’t until you lashed out that you actually gained the upper hand once again. You pinned him to the floor and you were practically on top of him to keep him still. He aggressively tried resisting, twisting and turning in place like a harmed beast all while you just tried to calm your friend down. As soon as he got the strength to tilt himself up, you pushed him right back down.

You didn’t want to fight him.

The warmth of your body temperature could be felt on his hands, as yours were entangled with his. You let out a soft ‘You’re okay... It’s okay’ to try and cease his urges for blood, easing his PTSD all while comforting the male you loved the best you could. It was clear you weren’t gonna budge in the slightest and seeing your efforts to try and calm him down seemed to struck a nerve in Fliqpy. His features slowly softened up a little as he stopped resisting as much, laying limp on the floor as he quit trying to rip your windpipe out.

An unexpected glimpse of approval and pride glowing in his eyes that kept themselves locked onto your own. A look that honestly made the little bits of fear you might have felt beforehand fade into nothingness. And it were just the two of you on the world currently. You let go of your friend and slowly got up, backing away from him to give him back his space as he got up himself.

You weren’t scared anymore.

You steadied your grib on your arrow when he calmly started reaching for something in his sidepockets, to which what he did next confused you more than anything; taking out a napkin to wipe off the blood that’s only been there to slowly dry up on his hands. Your head tilted slightly in response, keeping your eyes concentrated on his hands who were now as good as clean. Your confusion had even multiplied more so when he took off his cap and bowed down his head to you ever so slightly, assumingly out of respect;

you couldn't help but feel flattered and perhaps even somewhat flustered in a way. You face gaining a reddish tint in response to his actions. He reached out his hand towards you, offering it. To which you didn’t hesitate for even a second, gently entangling your fingers over his hand.

“You’ve improved”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

#happy tree friends #happy tree friends x reader #htf x reader #flippy and fliqpy #htf flippy #htf fliqpy #flippy x reader #fliqpy x reader #htf #happy tree friends fliqpy #happy tree friends flippy

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mmmfanfiction · 5 months ago

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HIII HOW U DOING I would like to make a request (if ur not busy!!)

About flippy/fliqpy (htf) and reader with anger issues!

Like they just randomly go mad crazy but they calm down easily, but it’s kinda freaky how fast they go form psycho crazy to a lil silly person

Oh could you also make reader’s gender neutral?

Thank you so much for ur hard work!!

Dude I’ve had this half finished in my drafts for like so long 💀 I’m really sorry I didn’t try and push myself to answer sooner.

Flippy

🧸literally tries to avoid angering you at almost all costs

🧸he’d hate to be the reason to cause you any form of distress

🧸especially if it could end in some form of injury.

🧸if theirs anything he can do to help your anger issues he will do it to the best of his ability

🧸I feel like he’d be very good at calming you down and deescalating

🧸if anyone tries to purposely make you pissed off for shits and giggles then Flippy will step in and tell them to knock it the fuck out

🧸if you end up hurting yourself due to your anger issues then he’ll take check the wound, and if it’s needed he’ll bandage it.

🧸Flippy hears you out, always. He gives you time and space, and tries to be as understanding as possible.

Fliqpy

🔪honestly I feel like Fliqpy can kind of relate?

🔪like not 100% but he knows what it’s like to get so angry/upset that you lash out

🔪however he would also be terrible at calming you down💀

🔪like, he’s neutral, probably just stands there awkwardly and makes sure your okay after you’ve calmed down

🔪however if either himself or Flippy find something that specifically calms you down they’ll definitely try and use that

🔪I’m gonna be so honest if it was a person who made you mad and Fiqpy didn’t like them he would 100% egg you on💀

🔪like ‘oh your mad at them? Why not go hit them instead of that wall?’

Authors note part 2!: hey, please let me know if I represented anger issues wrong in any way or used incorrect terminology so I can fix it

#htf #happy tree friends #htf flippy #htf fliqpy #flippy x reader #fliqpy x reader

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picklebunbun · 8 months ago

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Helloooo !!! If you don't mind, can you make a Flippy/Fliqpy x reader who as a DID (dissociative identity disorder) and the other alter hurts people who get a little too close to them without asking them first and they absolutely hate insects, like , they would literally try to kill them with a knife (and surprise ! They success) but only if you agree of course !

⌗. ➞ྀིྀི⚛️! : cw; I tried to research about DID, but since it's rare to get it, I have very limited information about it so I sincerely apologize if it's not accurate. Descriptions about insects getting squashed counts as gore, correct? Insanely violent reader, this is a bit more angsty than crack, reader needs a hug and so does Flippy ,

➵ Flippy / Fliqpy x gn ! reader this is supposed to be read as romantic

{ angel's notes 🪽; new style, kind of, anyways, if anyone has DID, please tell me if I got it right }

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıılıı.lllııılı.

now playing [girl with one eye]

0:26 ———♡——— 3:50

◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷

—.𖥔 ݁ ˖⌗; hc's

before you realized you had DID, you couldn't remember what happened in your life. It was just like your life was birth and then adulthood, blanking on the memories in between .

when Flippy asked you about your childhood, you couldn't say anything. It was kind of awkward after that, you just both stayed silent .

large portions of your memory were gone by a snap of a finger, nothing made sense, it was like you took a long nap for hours and all your former friends cut off all contact with you with no explanation .

ever since then, you had trouble dealing with how you acted, you thought that everything was wrong with your body, your face, every individual cell in your skin, it didn't even felt like it was your OWN skin, so what gave you the right to judge it anyways ?

sometimes you felt like anything could set you off, suddenly getting angry at every sound, fire running up your nerves and getting major headaches from anger, a volcano waiting to destroy everything .

first of all, these systems or rather, system, not plural, was used as a defense mechanism against anything related to your trauma, even minor things like color or a specific sound. In a way, it was protecting you, maybe that's why a gigantic part of your life was missing .

when Flippy opened up to you about his disorder, it was such a relief for you, which also led you to admit that you had the same problem, which also led to you two talking about it. It was such a relief to have this conversation with someone who doesn’t think you’re crazy, even better, someone who could actually relate to what you were feeling .

the thing about your system, however, it’s defense mechanism was similar to Flipqy. It made it harder for you guys to fully trust each other. If your system took over but not Flippy’s he ended up getting hurt, but, this was a way to keep you safe, after all .

although, you did find that you calmed down from how you were before. You switched almost every time, 24/7, always being reminded on what happened to you, but since meeting Flippy, it was like all your once, dark, unlit, lightbulb just suddenly beamed with energy .

the thing is, even if Flippy fully gained your system's trust, it'd be really hard to convince everyone that you weren't dangerous, and you really didn't switch that much, it made you even more upset because everyone in the town trusted the green bear more. You thiught everything was out of place, that you didn't belong here, why live in a world that thinis it'd be better if you died anyways ?

it struck up a lot of identity issues ,,,

you and Flippy had a talk about it, it's refreshing when he comforts you, treating you delicately like an injured bird .

even if everyone hates you, as long as Flippy was next you, you'll be fine, his company is all you'll need .

it's so weird you have such an irrational fear about bugs but barely any reaction to guts and bloodshed, seeing you freak out about an insect while making sure that the soilders of WW1 eradicated the creature was definitely a sight .

bringing out a whole bazooka ಠ_ಠ ,, ?

even worse when you switch . 😭

COMES HOME WITH THE WHOLE HOUSE DESTROYED .

,,,

" hey [system / name] I ,, - WHAT HAPPENED ,, "

" ,, there was a bug "

stressing the man out oml . 😭

at least he doesn't get any bugs in his house anymore,,, BECAUSE THERE IS NO HOUSE .

chasing around a silverfish with a knife around the house

" you'll hurt yourself like that ?! "

" NOT BEFORE I HURT THIS SON OF A B TCH FIRST "

" CHRIST ALMIGHTY , [system / name] "

thank gyatt he can calm you down because everyone in the town would've been on fire .

it doesn't matter, he always loves you either way ! ❦

#happy tree friends x reader #happy tree friends #angst #htfxreader #htf flipqy #htf x gn reader #htf x fem reader #htf x male reader #flippy x reader #flipqy x reader #crack fic #fluff #idk how to tag this

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satellitespinner · 4 months ago

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✱ DARLING, I (prologue)

pairings : basketball!abby x cheerleader!oc

synopsis : cheer, dance, acro all things flippy and twirly were your thing all throughout highschool, you were the best of the best (and everyone knew it.) a full ride scholarship to the school of your dreams left you alone in a brand new state so who better to come to your rescue than the caption of the girls basketball team….

c/w: idk yet fr lollll read a/n

a/n : oc is reader i aint no wattpad hoe. ok sooo i already had a fic that was loosely named after a tyler song and in honour of chromakopia i decided to name this after a song on the new album because i lobe tyler LMFAOO… im pregnant and this is for my girl rayrayyyyyy ( @andersonfilms ) this is gonna be super short btwbtwww.. im unorganized but wanted to write for abby sooooo🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ i only put the profiles for a few people cause im not boutta do whole teams im lazy

#abby tlou fanfic #abby tlou x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby x you #the last of us fanfiction #darling i!fic

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thatssomegoodsoup · 13 days ago

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HAPPY TREE FRIENDS X READER HC MASTERLIST

FLIPPY & FLIQPY X READER HCs

#flippy x reader #fliqpy x reader #happy tree friends x reader #htf x reader #htf headcanons #htf flippy #htf fliqpy #flippy #happy tree friends flippy #happy tree friends fliqpy #fanfic #headcanon #x reader #fanfiction #headcanon masterlist #masterlist #fic masterlist

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baestruly · 6 days ago

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the difference between calls ━━ peter sutherland

( 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 ) peter sutherland x fem!reader

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ IN WHICH there’s an obvious comparison between peter’s first call from you and a call he receives when you are together. when it comes to your safety, peter doesn't play.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - hurt/comfort, panic attacks, kidnapping, reader is rose's sister

𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 ━━━━━━━━

Peter sat at his desk, the pen tapping rhythmically against the worn wood. A mountain of paperwork loomed over him ━━ shit, he was behind on that, he never got much sleep, figuring it could wait as he stared blankly at the moving pen.

The sharp sound of ringing made his heart skip a beat. There was no covering the fact peter strived and wished he had a little more than just a desk job ━━ answering calls, more specifically ━━ he lived for the thrill. It was evident from his heart thundering in his chest. answering the night agent's phone was a step up from being a 911 operator, at least.

Until━━

“Go ahead.” He said smoothly, his pen turning in the same hand as he rested his elbow on the desk.

“Um━━uh, night action! night action━━”

The frantic voice on the other end made Peter stiff. The pen stopped twirling between his fingers.

“Yes, hello. Code, please.” He replied, like countless times before. Peter grabbed his binder out from under the desk on the shelf and opened it in front of him, flipping through the pages with his one free hand.

“Please, you have to help up━━oh my god, my sister━━me━━they’re coming after us!” If even possible, the voice was more frantic, gasps heaving in and out from what Peter recognized as a panic attack or something along the lines.

This didn’t seem like his usual business toned atmosphere once he answered. It sounded like they had got the wrong number, he never dealt with situations like this, especially from people who didn’t seem like they knew what to do with the number and him across the line.

“Ma'am, if you don’t have a code━━it seems like you have the wrong number━━”

“No! I have ur flippi━━I have the code gimme a second.” The girl spat. Peter bites his cheek as he hears whispering on the phone━━likely the woman’s sister. “Okay! It’s table, clock, water, fire. You got it, did you━━”

“Yes, I got it.” Peter interrupted, eyes flying through pages in a matter of seconds. Settling on the 80th page, he looks at the code that was given to him. “Is this Benwire or Ramese?”

“What? What even is that?” A pause followed, filled with nervous energy. “They just told us to tell you the code; I don’t know who these people are?”

More whispering ━━ frantically. Peter’s chest tightened as he heard sobbing in the background. This sounded like something 911 would have to deal with.

“What street did your friend Morsese live on?”

The question just seemed to make the hyperventilating worse.

“Maam, are you okay? I can dispatch you to 911 if you’re in any dang ━━ ”

“No, they told us to call you ━━ this number, they made sure of it! God knows they’re probably fucking dead.”

“Whose they?” Peter sat up straighter, urgency sharpening his instincts as he abandoned the paperwork

“Our aunt and uncle, Emma and Henry. Campbell. Emma and Henry Campbell.”

Peter bit his cheek more, holding the phone in a wave of silence. It was clear this girl was probably on the brink of passing out; she wasn’t breathing right. But she wasn’t the only one clueless, Peter had no idea who she was talking about either.

Peter always had his protective instinct towards others in danger ━━ it came in hand with him working in the FBI. If this girl's aunt and uncle told her to call the line it could have some relevance in later reports━━but he wasn’t going to hang up on her yet.

“Hello━━?”

“I’m here. Run me through what’s happening, who’s after you?” Peter asked, his tone less harsh, preparing to do what he thinks he’s always done best ━━ just like on the metro ━━ save people.

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 ━━━━━━━━━

There was something Peter should be used to ━━ but now, with you in his life ━━ he never could be. It was the constant stress he was under, with you being associated with him and not knowing the minute something could blow up and ruin everything.

Ruin your life.

It’s why Peter has such a hard time leaving you in your guy’s apartment every day so he can go to work. In that shitty basement when he would much rather be spending every growing second by your side, ready to jump at anything that could put you in harm's way.

Everything in the white house was total shit ━━ no one could trust anyone. But it’s been a few months since the attack at Camp David. Peter was offered a job as a night agent to serve in the field ━━ but decided to keep it safe, taking smaller jobs in the white house assigned by the president after what seemed like an ongoing thank you ever since he helped save her from the bombs.

But he had no complaints ━━ and neither did you. He’s looked happier than he ever has, coming home and wrapping his big arms around you was his favourite part of the day, inhaling the soft vanilla scents of your (y/h/c) hair, bringing him to the present and the reality of it all, how the world brought him to you ━━ even in the worst circumstances.

Peter had no idea that these circumstances would repeat themselves.

After kissing you goodnight, he headed out, waiting the usual time he did outside the office door as the clock hit midnight.

Peter nodded to his coworker in a firm greeting before entering and closing the door. He wasn’t sure how much time passed once he sat in that seat ━━ but the calls were quiet as they had been for the past few days. He didn’t work as much time on the phone as how Diane assigned him ━━ he got to get out a bit and work on other things, too.

Then, after not hearing the old ━━ but familiar ring for a while, Peter’s head snaps towards it as it shakes once. He grabbed it quickly, unable to stop himself from imagining he could be on the other end.

“Hello━━”

“Peter Sutherland.”

Peter’s brows snap together in alert and confusion, blinking a few times before shifting and resting his elbow on the table.

“Code, please.” He’s said it many times before.

“This is going to go very differently.” But he’s never heard that.

There’s a muffled scream.

Or that. Was it━━

Fuck, he was not doing this, not today. Immediately, he jumped up, his chair flying back and almost hitting the back grey wall.

“Who the fuck are you ━━ if you do anything to her ━━”

“Yes, yes, I've heard that line many times before, during your whole night agent spiel a few months ago…you guys are really cute, the perfect partners in crime.” He laughed, it sounded awful, painful even. Peter’s head was racing, which seemed to match his heart. “Even recognized your scream right away, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

That was it. Peter pushed the chair out of his way as he paced around the room, fists balling together. He could hear your cries in the background, and his mind brought him back ━━ when you had been so scared, being prone to panic attacks under stress.

And he couldn’t do a single fucking thing right now because he wasn’t already there.

“Just tell me what you know about what happened with your dad, and then━━”

“Fuck you.” Peter spat, hands angrily raking through his hair ━━ he hated how the caller knew how to get under his skin but he wasn’t going to let his guard down when it came to you, he needed to think ━━ he had to.

“Ooh! we’ve got a bite. That’s not what the lovely lady wants to hear as her last words, I'm sure.”

There's more shuffling.

“Peter━━Peter,” your voice cracks, twisting into a desperate whisper, raw and fractured. “Please come back.”

Peter’s heart stops hearing your voice in such a state, eyes widening with stress and concern. He can’t even picture you right now or he might have to sit down. He knew he could stall the caller to buy them some time so they could get to you without alerting him.

“Hey ━━ hey, baby, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay. I’m right here, and I'm going to be there, you gotta hold on for me, I know you can.” Peter abandons his usual name for you after that sick man used it as a taunt towards you, he couldn’t cloud your vision and get his voice mixed up with the callers in your already jumbled brain. He knew how terrified you were because he’s seen it through the countless sleepless nights and panic attacks. But it was all coming true, and Peter wanted to curse himself for letting this even happen, your worst nightmares that he promised so deeply to protect you from.

A sniffle escapes from your end, the silence hanging heavy, a chilling agreement that doubles as a ticking clock. Peter thinks before hearing an even quieter whisper, barely heard.

“He’s got a gun━━took down both guards, but I think he’s planning on jumping out the big window, his buddy is coming in his truck.”

Your voice is extremely shaky, but Your words shake him to his core. Peter steadies himself, whispering, “Okay.” Stopping his frantic pacing, he speaks as clearly as his racing heart allows. “(y/n), we’re coming for you. The FBI will surround the house, but I need to hang up and alert everyone. Just nod like you’re still on the phone with me until he takes it, alright, baby?”

Your voice quivered in return with a sniff, yes. Peter squeezed his eyes shut and slammed the phone down without a second thought, running to the conference room to get someone to immediately track the call in case he kept the phone on him if they got to the truck ━━ shit ━━ before they could. If anything, they could trace the calls or texts he’s made to his buddy.

He was running like a madman ━━ alerting the night agent team members. It was all a blur once he grabbed his gun and vest and drove out of there, police sirens going off everywhere and other agents' SUVS speeding close behind him.

Peter jumps out of the car, barely having time to slam his car door closed as he’s already looking at the fifth-floor windows ━━ wondering what the fuck you meant by jumping out the fucking window into his buddy's truck? Because if you had anything to do with being entangled in that escape, this man would never see the end of it. He would hunt him down ━━ but he wouldn’t kill him. He’d make him live with horrible bruises and broken bones, and once he goes to the hospital, he’s taken to jail for not only assault but for interfering with private information and everything that happened with his father.

This man would never see the fucking light because of how many times Peter would knock him flat out.

Raising his gun, he carefully follows behind many other agents dressed in all black, whipping his gun in all open doors as he runs down the hallway and up the flights upstairs ━━ orders being yelled in the background.

His legs were outrunning his brain, screaming at him to stop running because of how exhausted he was ━━ but finally, he reached the door. “FBI, OPEN THIS DOOR━━”

“Peter!” Your panicked scream breaks through the noise, the sound driving him to force the door open, gun at the ready, prepared to confront whatever horror lay inside.

But then he sees you.

In an instant, his gun drops to his side as he looks down at you, arms tied around the banister in the middle of the kitchen and living room. You know you must have looked like total shit as he abandons any proper FBI protocol and falls beside you, concerned eyes locking with yours as if they’re holding onto you for the only source of comfort while his hands untie yours quickly.

Your glossy eyes, stinging with tears and probably drugs from how drowsy you were feeling for the past hour, started pooling with tears. It definitely wasn’t because of the drugs.

You choked out a sob, one that's been buried in your chest for what feels like forever, as you startled into a coughing fit once Peter immediately wrapped his arms around you, staying kneeled on the ground because you had no energy to even attempt to stand, you were too shaky and would probably collapse the moment you put any weight on your legs.

“You’re here; you made it back.” You whisper into his shoulder, already soaked with tears, breath hitching as your body trembles against his.

You could feel Peter’s relieved smile. “I know, I’m here. I’m so sorry this happened sweeth━━”

He paused as if something shocked him.

“Peter, it’s okay━━”

“No ━━ no, it’s not.” He was still knelt, now facing you once you pulled away, hand rubbing his temples. “You’ve been traumatized enough, and me not taking the night agent job ━━ I could’ve been here, protecting you. But I left you, now he’s messed with your head, I can tell.”

You shut your eyes tight, a quiet sigh escaping you, and that sigh only serves to unleash a fresh wave of tears, cascading down your cheeks. Despite Peter’s stressed state, he softly wiped them away.

“You’re perfect. Your head, how you think ━━ everything about you, (y/n), and when somebody messes with that, it messes me up because I cannot physically allow myself to let that happen to you.” He takes your hands in his gently, turning them first and looking around your body for any signs of harm. You hated how he beat himself up for not being able to protect you. But he did help, he found you, and his idea about staying on the phone bought the other agents some time to track him down.

You wince to yourself upon noticing he’s looking at the ━━ what are probably now ━━ agonizing bruises on your jaw and throat. You’ve taken punches before. It wasn’t anything new, they hurt like a bitch, though.

Peter’s thumb glides against the tender, purple skin as his other fingers come to the back of your head in your hair, just behind your ear, and you lean into his comforting touch. “I’m sorry.” He wretched, keeping his hand in your hair and bringing your head to his chest.

The two of you sit just like that, grounding yourselves through each other's mangled breaths.

The right people can cloud right judgement is what Peter’s father always said. It makes your job harder when you have someone to lose. Peter made a promise to himself that night as you both lay under the covers, his thumb running circles over your knuckles.

He promised himself he wouldn’t work behind that shitty desk again.

Then, he would visit that sick man behind bars.

masterlist peter sutherland masterlist

ty for reading!

#imagine #peter sutherland #peter sutherland x reader #peter sutherland x you #peter sutherland x y/n #peter sutherland imagine #peter sutherland oneshot #peter sutherland imagines #the night agent #the night agent imagines #the night agent fanfic #fanfic #oneshots #writing #hurt/comfort

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velvetchrry · 9 months ago

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━━━━ THE COLLAPSE

pairing: captain john price x f!reader

2k. you move to the mountains of montana and meet your new neighbor. **contains dark themes - read at your own risk

Your next door neighbor was admittedly a little weird.

You were pretty positive he was one of those doomsday prepper types that you heard of when you moved to the area — but you hadn’t seen hide nor hair of his 'bunker’ yet. You know some of them are pretty well hidden, and you’re a bit embarrassed to admit when he invited you over for a fish fry dinner after you first moved in, you totally went snooping around for it.

As strange as he might be, he seems like a nice guy. Genuine type of neighbor and you don’t want to piss him off, considering he’s your only neighbor. There’s nothing around the two of you for miles. That, and he’s actually been a pretty neighborly neighbor.

He always seems to know where you are but you figure it’s probably just because he’s clearly ex-military. When you catch yourself drinking coffee and staring at him from your porch as he fishes on the lake you share — he waves at you. When you’re trying to fix the fence on your small garden — he’s over right away with tools. When you’re struggling to carry your groceries inside — he’s around the corner, lifting over half of them out of your arms. Telling you that ‘you should really buy in bulk, love.’

And honestly, he’s right, you should. It’s been such a pain in the ass to get and haul groceries considering you moved to bum-fuck Montana — but oh is it ever beautiful. You get an absolutely breathtaking view every single day… but it takes away almost a full day from you in order to drive into the nearest town, load up, and then drive back home and unload them. By the time you’re done, you’re so tired you don’t have any energy to do anything else.

The power goes out one night. You’re not a child anymore, but it really is dark out here without any lights on. Eerie. You’re not from here. You don’t know what could be lurking out there, in the dead of night.

He comes by — of course he does. He’s got flashlights, candles, blankets and whiskey. Says the first two are to see with, the last two are to keep you warm. You let him inside just as the rain turns into a downpour.

You stay up most of the night together, talking. He tells you about his past in the military, you tell him about your writing, how you moved out here to focus and get out of the city. He pours you another drink and you have half a mind to refuse, but really you can’t let him leave yet. You’re a little scared to be by yourself out here tonight. He leaves when the power finally comes back on, only an hour before sunrise.

Loneliness seeps into your soul after a few months. You decide to invite some friends from college for a long weekend. You let him know of course. The plan is to do some hiking, but you’re sure you’ll end every night rowdy in your house. You tell him not to hesitate to show up if you’re all being too noisy.

He comes by that Friday morning, after everyone has arrived the evening before. Offers to be your hiking guide. You think, why not? You honestly aren’t much of an outdoor girly and can’t say you’ve ventured very far out here before. Might as well let the expert do it. He seems happy to — chatting it up easily with everyone, showing them little things in nature here and there.

When you get back to the house, everyone is so impressed by him they insist he comes by tonight for dinner. You almost can’t believe how easily he meshes into your group when he’s at least 12-15 years older than all of you. If you didn’t know better you would have swore he graduated with the rest of you.

He’s always on your team for any of the games you play and he's fucking good at all of them. Almost maddeningly so. You win flippy cup and pong easily. You team up in drunk Jenga and he makes you feel like he’s moonlights as an architect with how quickly you both become champions.

There’s no way he’d join you all skinny dipping in the lake — or so you’d thought. But as the rest of you tear your clothes off at the edge of the docks and jump in one by one, he’s there. Stripping down into nothing. Winking at you before he hightails it into a cannon ball. You hope what little moonlight there is doesn’t allow him to see the blush creeping up your cheeks. Doesn't allow him to track how your eyes move up his body — strong, sturdy, rugged.

One of the guys suggests playing chicken and he’s diving under and lifting you on his shoulders before you can fully register what’s happening. The soft, sensitive flesh of your pussy rubs against him with each movement and it takes every last ounce of your willpower not to grind against him like some sick fucking pervert. He’s your neighbor after all.

Winning was almost a guarantee with the two of you, even with you on top, because of how absolutely solid he is. Hands digging into your thighs, keeping you flush against him. It doesn’t matter who you’re up against because no one can push you off your perch on his shoulders. Your nipples perk, exposed to the chill of the night.

You’re fucking drenched and leaking onto him, you can tell. You just hope he’s distracted enough that he can’t feel your warm juices running down his back. You feel the prickles of his beard hair rub against your inner thigh and you have to bite down on your tongue to suppress a moan from escaping you. When he drops you back down into the lake after your undefeated streak and hits you with a whispered “that’s my good girl”, you almost try to hop back onto him then and there.

Fuck, you need to get laid.

Your friends leave once the weekend is up and it really hits you how well and truly alone you are here. Nothing can beat the beauty and serenity of Montana living — it wraps around your lungs like a creeping vine to take your breath away — but it makes you almost long for the hustle and bustle of the city you left behind. The trips to a girlfriend’s place for a glass (or bottle) of wine after a shitty day. Going out to bars and dancing the night away on a weekend. Hell, even just getting takeout when you don’t feel like cooking. All of it — the price to be paid for living here.

You can’t even begin to think about the detriment it is to your dating life. Sometimes — on the nights where you let your mind spiral — you imagine what it’ll be like living out here alone for the rest of your life.

Shockingly, you do meet a guy without even trying. Jake. Run into him. Literally in fact — you accidently trample over his foot at the grocery store with your cart. You feel so bad about it, when trying to make it up to him you find out he only lives a few miles away from you. He’s cute; outdoorsy type. Avid hiker, knows the area around your place. You invite him over for dinner tomorrow as an apology.

You go simple, not wanting to overdo it. Steak, cooked to a perfect medium rare, and baked potatoes. The two of you sit on your patio and chat until the stars come out and it’s too cold to sit any longer with soft breeze coming from the lake. Jake gets a fire roaring in your cozy little living room and you both curl up to it on the floor with a glass of wine.

He spends the night. You wonder — are you being too easy? Honestly… yeah, probably. But to be fair to yourself, you needed this… badly. You’re in quite literally the longest dry spell of your life. Living in the mountains hasn't helped that.

You jolt, waking up in a sweaty sheen that coats your skin. All night you’ve had the feeling that you’re being watched. It’s probably due to the fact that Jake, who is snoring lightly in your bed next to you, told you a few ghost stories about the mountain being haunted. That, and it’s easy to be paranoid living way out here.

Jake hangs around more and more. You go hiking, fishing, stargazing. Strangely, the more you see of Jake, the less you see of your neighbor. He’s not out on his boat on the lake anymore; you don’t see him grilling in his backyard or hiking the trails around your place’s. It’s… weird. He was such a solid fixture in your life when you first moved here.

It’s been over a month since you last saw him. The ghost of him lingers everywhere and it's starting to drive you crazy. When you’re tending your garden and you notice the part of the fence he helped to fix, you think of him. When you grill fish with Jake for dinner, your mind wanders back to him. Your mind plays tricks on you too — the back of your neck prickles and you think he’s going to be there when you turn around. But he’s not, he just… disappeared into thin air.

You decide you’re gonna go check on him today. It’s Saturday, and it’s a beautiful and sunny day. Typically a day you’d see him outside around the house. Jake’s coming over later tonight and you would like to introduce them to one another, especially after talking him up to Jake. Maybe he’ll come over for dinner?

When you get to his place and knock on the door, there’s no response. The door creaks open a bit from the force of your small hand. The house is dark and silent. You gingerly cross the threshold into his house, taking one tiny step into the foyer as you call out to him. It’s been a while since you last stepped foot in here.

You don’t want to intrude on him or his privacy but you’re honestly starting to get very worried at this point. What if he’s hurt? You push the door open a bit further and take another few steps in, again calling for him.

The house is just as neat as you remember from last time — nothing looks to be out of place. The dishwasher is running so that’s a good sign that he’s okay. You open your mouth to call out his name again when suddenly someone comes up to you from behind and presses a cloth to your face. You panic, limbs flailing wildly and inhale more of the slightly sweet, acetone-reminiscent scent. Your screams are muffled by the hand covering your mouth, and you scratch at it, feeling the hairy arm of whoever is behind you until the world becomes black.

When you come to, you feel a little foggy. You’re in… a basement? There are no windows, just industrial style lights. A bed resides in the center of the room — a bed that you are currently tied to — with each limb belonging to its own post.

Holy fuck… holy fucking fuck. Sheer terror spreads like poison through your body. This can’t be real. It can’t be. You’re too old to be kidnapped. You think you’re probably too old to sex trafficked… maybe? The rational part of your brain tells you to slow down and formulate a plan, but the other side of your brain — the one that’s currently reacting to the situation at hand — is kicking and screaming and gouging into your skin. The handcuffs on your wrists and ankles dig deep, biting hard into your skin.

You scream when you notice a shadowy figure hulking just out of eyesight. It moves slowly, so slowly. You throw yourself as far as you can to the other side of the bed, trying to get away from it.

When the figure steps into the light, your blood turns to ice. Sweat glides down your back in swift rivulets even as a chill seeps into your bones.

“…John?”

“Yes, love?”

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 2 days ago

Text

You Make Me Wanna Make You Fall in Love

Request: NEED A ONE SMUTTY ONE SHOT ABOUT CONTROVERSIALLY YOUNG GF!!!! bonus points if she’s a bimbo chic kinda girl 😫

Roy Kent x YoungGF!Reader

2.4k words (I warned y'all)

Warnings: Roy's much younger girlfriend (mentioned as twenty), the Greyhounds looking at the reader disrespectfully, mentions of a very skimpy outfit (and its lack of underwear), unprotected sex, two uses of daddy, semi-public sex, Roy's young GF is a horny menace

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! A little different from my usual, but, not gonna lie, had a lot of fun with it (and would definitely revisit these two again)! Hope you like it too ✨

“Oh hell, would you look at that one?”

“Could you imagine-?”

“Not leaving much to the imagination, is she?”

Roy cocked an eyebrow at his players, who could only offer sheepish grins in response. While they were never crude, they were still men. Young men who could never help but notice attractive women. Young men who were famous, fit, and rich, and liked using those things to their advantage. Young men who were exactly who Roy was twenty years ago.

Curious about what- or rather who- had them so worked up, Roy glanced in the direction they’d been gesturing in a moment ago. His entire went body went warm at the scandalous sight: your Greyhounds kit rolled up to show off plenty of skin, the tiny, flippy little skirt that stopped high on the thighs he’d been kissing the night before, the high socks and clunky heels that completed the outfit, and those pretty pink lips that wrapped around a straw sinfully.

If he didn’t have a match to coach, Roy’d be dragging you out of the stadium and straight to his bed.

Instead, he turned his attention to the pitch, doing his best to ignore the sight of you jumping up and down excitedly and the sound of your girlish cheering that rang in his ears over the roaring of Nelson Road. Even more, he tried to ignore the way his players kept glancing over at you, trying to catch your eyes that seemed to only be interested gazing at their grumpy manager.

Once victory was secured and meeting with the press was finished, Roy made his way through the changing room and to his office, offering his men words of praise. Now he was in his chair, exchanging some chuckles with Beard and Nate, when you strolled in, a scandalous vision with a fucking lollipop in your mouth. You smirked at the sight of Roy, in those track pants you liked so much, hands behind his head as he leaned back in his chair and chatted with his assistant coaches. His eyes lit up when he saw you, not bothering to hide the way they raked down your barely concealed figure.

“Hi, Roy,” you purred, giving your candy a kitten lick. All Roy could do was shake his head at you and smirk, fighting to keep his pants under control.

“We should get going,” Beard said slowly, eyes darting between you and Roy. “See you tomorrow, Coach.” He grabbed a blushing Nate by the shoulder and steered him through the changing room, unintentionally garnering the attention of the last few Greyhounds who still loitered in front of their cubbies.

You approached Roy, hips swaying in that way he liked to watch. Still grinning, he stood and leaned on the edge of his desk, letting his hands find your hips, thumbs brushing over your bare skin. Not caring about the ogling stares from the changing room, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to Roy’s; he let out the quietest groan when he got a taste of watermelon on your mouth, undoubtedly from that fucking lollipop.

The last of the players in the changing room lingered, jaws slacked as they took in the sight in the office: Roy, their ever-grumpy, always-scowling manager, with his hands and mouth on this young woman no older than themselves, all giggles and bubbliness in that tiny skirt. Even with his reputation and romantic history, none of them ever expected to see this.

Honestly, they kind of respected it.

Remembering that he was, after all, still at work, Roy pulled back from you with more of a smile now, shaking his head at you. You glanced over your shoulder, meeting the gazes in the changing room. Still in Roy’s embrace, you lifted a manicured hand and offered a little wave, giggling when your acknowledgement caused some blushing and wide eyes among the Greyhounds.

Roy, on the other hand, let out a gruff sigh. “You lot can fucking go home,” he growled at his team. “Now.”

Sure enough, there was a scramble, some hushed murmurings about who the fuck was in Roy’s office, and then silence. With another one of those little giggles, you returned your attention to Roy, who was looking at you with a frown. It was all so nonchalant, the way you released yourself from his grip and sat in his chair, swiveling back and forth a few times.

“What’s the matter?” you pouted. “Don’t like my outfit or something?”

Roy crossed his arms, quirking an eyebrow at you. “I like it very much in fact,” he assured you, his wandering gaze confirming his words. “Unfortunately, so did my team.” He smirked and shook his head. “You fucking menace.”

Pleased by his inability to keep his eyes trained on your face, you twirled a strand of hair around your finger. “Was I a distraction?”

“You,” Roy huffed, taking a step closer, “are always a distraction, darling. Just not sure how I feel about you distracting my players.” He nodded towards your thighs. “You and that little fucking skirt of yours.”

Your eyes brightened, alerting Roy that you were up to something. “Guess it’s a good thing they didn’t know about what’s under my skirt.” With that, your legs parted, revealing something that had Roy groaning.

“Fuck,” was all he could say, falling to his knees in front of you. He took in the sight of your bare pussy, already glistening with your arousal. He shamelessly licked his lips, shaking his head in awe, before finding your face again. “She’s already so wet,” he breathed. “What the fuck were you doing before you came in here?”

Spreading your legs wider, you shrugged, swirling that lollipop in your mouth. “Popped into the loo to watch your press conference on my phone,” you explained slowly, your smile turning wicked. “And I might’ve touched myself while I watched you.”

The sound that came from Roy’s throat could only be described as tortured. Normally, he’d have the good sense to get you out of that chair and take you straight home so he could have his way with you. Or at least take the time to lock every door and close all the blinds to secure some privacy. But no. The sight of you, legs spread in his office chair, admitting that you’d just been touching yourself was more than enough to make him forget every ounce of dignity and reasonableness.

Roy had hardly a thought in his head when he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to your already soaking cunt. The breathy sigh you released spurred him on, encouraging him to dip his tongue inside your wetness and taste your arousal. Some little voice in the back of his head scolded him, desperately trying to remind himself where he was, but he could barely hear it over the sounds of his tongue lapping at your folds.

It took the sound of distant footsteps to finally bring Roy back to reality. He pulled back from between your legs, eyes wild and darting between the two wide open doors. When he looked back at you, you were smirking at him, face flushed and eyes full of sin.

There was no way his resolve could last long enough to get you home. He’d have to make do right here, in his office.

He scrambled to lock doors and close blinds while you watched, your eyes trailing down his figure to where his pants were growing tighter by the moment. You liked Roy like this, all frazzled and, honestly, horny. While letting him get back on his knees and planting his face firmly between your thighs sounded perfect, you knew there was something you wanted even more.

By the time Roy shut off the lights turned back to you, you were already perched on his desk, legs spread. You crooked your finger at him, beckoning him to join you. Not that you needed to signal him to approach; Roy was almost immediately at the edge of the desk. Even in the dim light that came in through the closed blinds, you could see the way his eyes darkened as they made their way down your body and to your bare cunt.

“Need something?” he cooed, finally reminding himself that he was more than welcome to have the upper hand here. He reached down and took that lollipop out of your mouth with a pop! and dropped it into the rubbish bin.

Before you could pout or tease, he hovered over you and attached his mouth to yours, all tongue and teeth and moans as his hands began to roam over your bare skin, pushing you onto your back. This was the Roy you liked best, rough and possessive and maybe even a little mean. When his hands slid up your teeny-tiny kit, he let out a groan into your mouth; of course you weren’t wearing a bra. He took your breast in his large hand, squeezing and pinching until you were grinding up against that rock-hard bulge in his trackpants.

“Roy,” you mewled, knowing you were leaving a glistening mess on his pants. “Need you.”

How could he ever say no to your little pouts and huffs and whines?

He shimmied down his pants, freeing what you had to admit was the best cock you’d ever had. He rubbed the tip against your soaked cunt, teasing you with it, watching your face scrunch up in a mix of pleasure and frustration.

He tilted his head at you mockingly. “This what you want?” When you nodded desperately, he brought his tip to your clit, rubbing little circles over your bud. “You sure? You had a whole fucking football team looking at you today, wouldn’t you rather have one of them?”

Warmth spread over your skin as you whimpered. While Roy seemed to be content in his knowledge that you were his, he did like to play possessive and jealous sometimes. He liked hearing you begging, promising that you belonged to him. It brought out something primal, something that made him fuck you just a little harder every time. And, after watching his team ogle you, knowing you’d been touching yourself in the loo, having you spread your legs in his chair as you teased him, Roy knew he wanted to make you beg a little.

Sure enough, you desperately shook your head, spreading your legs as wide as that tight little skirt would let you. “Only want you,” you breathed. Then, feeling like riling the retired footballer up a little more, you added, “Daddy.”

His cock twitched against your clit. While you weren’t the first girl to ever call him that, there was something about the way you said it that drove him mad. Maybe it was that delicious mixture of innocence and lust that danced in your eyes. Maybe it was the way you always paired it with a little pout. Or, maybe, Roy was a just perverted man who liked having a twenty-year-old call him daddy.

Either way, that simple little word always got you what you wanted. And it was definitely going to work this time.

Suddenly his cock was back against your entrance, his precum mixing with your wetness. While normally he’d go achingly slow, teasing and torturing you, he’d already lost that self-control you’d been chipping away at since you’d first strolled into the office. With a soft grunt, he buried himself inside you, splitting you open with that delicious burn. Your eyes rolled back when he bottomed out, filling you much better than your fingers had earlier.

And he fucking knew it.

“How’s that?” he growled as he gave a little thrust that had your breath hitching. “My girl like that?”

You nodded, hooking your legs around his waist to pull him deeper. “Yes, daddy,” you gasped. When his thumb found your clit, you let out a soft sob, not caring if there was anyone still in the building to hear your filthy sounds. The only thing you really cared about was the feeling of Roy’s cock twitching inside you and your walls clenching in response.

He fucked you the way you both liked best: rough, a little careless, full of loud moans and sloppy kisses. When you felt his rocking movements begin to stutter, you rolled your hips, offering your best fuck me eyes and gripping his biceps.

Roy’s mouth found your neck, biting and licking recklessly, stretching you perfectly. Your walls tightened around him, begging to be stuffed. With one harsh stroke to your clit, you felt shockwaves all over your body as you fluttered around his cock, soaking it with your pleasure. Hell, you were sure some of your wetness ended up on his desk; Good, you thought wickedly.

The feeling of your climax was enough for Roy. With a twitch that ran through his entire body, he emptied himself inside you, your name a strangled moan on that filthy mouth you loved so much. The two of you rode out your pleasure, filling the dark office with your moans and the smell of sex.

After what felt like hours, Roy slumped on top of you, breathing raggedly. Your fingers found his curly hair, stroking those thick locks as pure bliss overcame your entire body. As much as you enjoyed teasing and cooing at Roy, this was really your favorite part: both of you spent, Roy emptied, you completely full, holding each other as your heartrates returned to normal.

“You,” Roy murmured in your ear, “are fucking amazing. Can’t fucking believe you sometimes, babe.”

Oh yeah. The sweet and dirty little whispers were pretty great too.

You giggled and squeezed him closer, relishing of his cock and cum still inside you. “Would you believe me if I said I’d be interested in going again?” you teased, rolling your hips gently.

The exhausted chuckle that slipped past Roy’s mouth told you he was more than willing. “Insatiable,” he mumbled to himself. He tksed at your little whine when he pulled out of you. “Come on, then. I’d like to fuck you in my own damn house this time, if you don’t mind.” He helped you off the desk, planting a little kiss to your temple. “And babe?”

“Yeah?” you breathed, a little dizzy in your heels.

He held you close and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Remind me to show you the showers next time you visit.”

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