#i could’ve sworn the race was longer?

[leclerc-s]

the fuck you means there’s already only 26 laps left??

[risuola]

ENTRY #10 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // You make my heart do things it's not supposed to do.

contents: arranged marriage!au, teeth rotting fluff, nothing else — wc. 1000

a/n: expect me to drop few entries very quickly because they are all finished in my drafts <3

series masterlist

It still flustered him.

Satoru never, not once in his 28 years of life, felt more confused, than right now. Why was his heart doing backflips in his chest? He sat there, on the wooden chair frozen and thankful for the furniture that held his weight because if suddenly it’d be taken away, he would collapse to the floor, meet the cold kitchen tiles and melt against them into a puddle of mess. He was there, stuck in time with his head empty and heart racing in his chest, rumbling against the cage of his ribs while you were going about the day without a care and attention to his pathetic state. A state you reduced him to.

It’s been few minutes already and Gojo sat there in silence, watching your back as you were washing fruit in the sink, snacking on the juicy strawberries he grabbed for you earlier that morning — a gesture foreign to his own body but he wanted, for once, to be the person who made you smile and not only experience the effect of someone else’s doing. He woke up earlier that day, before the sun even peaked above the horizon line and with his thoughts racing and stomach full of butterflies, he went on a very special mission.

It was a tiny market, way outside Tokyo but with the loveliest sellers. He found a booth he eyed once when on the job in the area, a stand full of little hand-woven baskets, each of them brimmed with fruit. The strawberries were red, some very bright and some very deep in color, glistening in the early sun with the morning dew that scattered across the surface looked as if little crystals were adorning the harvest. Satoru smiled and the old lady smiled as well.

“How can I help you, young man?” She asked, spreading her arms invitingly and Satoru could tell, by the look of her calloused hands, stained in juice and dirt, she was working hard every day to make a living.

“My wife loves strawberries,” he began, catching himself on the ease with which the word wife left his mouth, “but I don’t know much about picking the best ones. Could you help me with that?”

“You came to the right place, son!”

Just few moments later, Satoru was walking slowly towards his house, after warping back into the city. In his hand, a bag hung hooked over his fingers, full of those little baskets and their contents. He might have gone overboard with the purchase, but the joyful tears that welled in the eyes of that old woman when he paid her for fruit — definitely much more than it was worth according to the prices — he had no regrets. In result he carried the bagful of not only strawberries but also some apples, raspberries and sweet cherries — all of which he was forced to take, despite his initial plans of getting only the red ones you like so much.

“There you are, right on time,” your beautiful, melodic voice greeted him the moment he swung the doors open, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He could’ve bought you flowers as well, he planned to do so, but he had to evacuate himself from the grasp of that one seller lady, because as lovely as she was, if he stayed a moment longer, she would pack him her entire harvest of that morning. “I thought you went out earlier, but I made breakfast for you anyway.”

“I went for a little walk,” he said, trying to sound as nonchalant and at ease as he could despite the rageful whirl of butterflies in his stomach. Why was he so nervous? “And I bought you these.”

A soft thud barely made itself apparent above the cacophony of clinking plates and cutlery, but it was enough to catch your attention. You looked at him, curious, and somewhat carefully reached into the bag now rested on the kitchen table. Your face brightened up, your eyes glimmered and you smiled — and Satoru could’ve sworn he’s never seen something more beautiful. You reminded him of a child that got a toy it dreamed of. Pure happiness washed over your features and he wondered if it was always that easy to bring joy to your otherwise calm self.

“Oh my god, Satoru–“ you gasped out, fishing out one of the berries and after a short rinse under the water, you popped it into your mouth and melted. He was told by the woman in the market that the type she was growing on her fields was exceptionally sweet, with the right amount of tang and a lot of juice.

“Tasty?” He asked, watching how you savored the flavor with pure pleasure.

They were tasty. He found out himself, because when your lips pressed to his own, he forgot how to breathe and the only things on his mind were the plushiness of your mouth and that sweetness. His body moved on its own, his hands found their place on your hips, pulled you in, as if it was a natural reaction for him to bring you closer.

And then, before he managed to secure his grip on you, you were gone from his proximity, leaving only the lingering taste of strawberries on his lips and a growing confusion.

I love you.

He heard that right, a gentle whisper against his mouth. You said it, this time you said it for sure, this time he was sure the words actually were spoken, not read between lines.

“Sit down, Satoru, eat your breakfast,” you sing-sang happily, as if you didn’t stop the entire globe just now. As if you didn’t just alter the universe he was in, shifting the rhythm of the muscle in his chest permanently. As if you didn’t just tell him you love him.

But he sat down, afraid to not lose his balance and absentmindedly shoved a piece of a pancake into his mouth.

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @stuckinmoilalaland@ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @mo0sin @just-pure-trash @foliea @bakarinnie @big-booty-joe

[innerfare]

Filthy - Luffy 

Summary: Luffy's changed a lot in the past two years. Reader is a Straw Hat who is an archer and has spent the past two years training on Amazon Lily with the Kuja Pirates. Text below the cut.

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x Afab!Reader

Genre: smut

CW: oral sex (reader receiving), dirty talk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, a little bit of a silly ending

Word Count: 2,110

———

Undaunted by the dark of night, you followed the smoke on the horizon to your captain’s camp. You felt eyes on your person the entire way, but by now, you felt confident nothing would attack you. After all, your captain had tamed the entire island, from every hulking beast to each little mouse. And when you had stepped foot on it for the first time in almost two years a month ago, he had tamed you, too, had sucked all that Kuja Pirate independence out of you and fucked an addiction to his sex right into you. 

Despite the chilly night, your cheeks flushed with warmth. They only grew hotter as you reached your destination, your heart racing in your chest. 

You lingered at the tree line for a moment, your bow in one hand, a large platter of freshly made dorayaki in the other, watching your captain as he laid in front of the blazing fire he’d made, the flames casting a warm glow over his lean figure, illuminating the scar that now stretched the expanse of his chest. 

Though his straw hat was over his eyes and he laid perfectly still, you could tell he wasn’t asleep. Not just that, you knew he had sensed you approach, had picked up on your presence the second you landed on the beach. Your time training on Amazon Lily with the Kuja Pirates had made you more agile, more stealthy, than ever, but he picked up on your presence in an instant. 

You recalled that first night like it was yesterday. Knowing Rayleigh would be upset if he found out, as would Hancock, but overcome by the desire to see your beloved captain as soon as you heard Rayleigh had returned to Sabaody early, you had snuck out of the village and stolen a small boat. And when you had wandered into the jungle in search of your captain, you had found him. Or rather, you had found someone who looked a bit like him. 

Filthy as if he hadn’t bathed in weeks, with stubble on his cheeks- something you’d never seen on Luffy’s face before, and a sort of animalistic gleam in his eye, you had been unsettled. 

Then, you had been aroused, the two of you sizing each other up like strangers. 

You didn’t know how long it took- a few minutes, maybe just a couple of seconds- for him to have you pinned against a tree with his face between your legs, lapping at your folds like he’d been wandering the desert for months and you were the only thing he had to drink. Once he had his fill, he’d pinned you to the jungle floor and rutted into you like a wild beast. And you had begged him for more, cumming more times than you could count. 

The happy go lucky kid you had met was still in there, somewhere, but he’d been forced to make room for a man, a man with a voracious appetite and sexual prowess, a man with rough hands but a soft tongue, a man whose fearsome reputation was known the world over, a man you would risk absolutely anything to be tangled naked with. 

“You’re late,” he said in that gruff voice of his, a little raspy, a little husky. And so much deeper than you recalled. 

You stepped into the firelight and stood over him, willing your heart to stop fluttering in your chest. “I wasn’t aware we had an appointment, Captain.” 

“You always get here just after sunset.” 

“It’s only been four weeks since I started coming,” you told him, setting the platter of dorayaki down on a log; you knew Luffy could hunt and cook his own meat, but you also knew he was hopeless at baking, a problem for someone with a sweet tooth like his. And though you knew he needed to train, not be spoiled, you just couldn’t help yourself. 

“Only four weeks, huh? Could’ve sworn it’s been longer.” Finally, he sat up, his straw hat falling back off his head and hanging from his neck, a bit thicker than it had been two years ago. His black hair was a complete mess, sticking up in all directions, and while you used to think it made him look like a little boy, you now saw him as a disheveled man who was too busy fighting to worry about his appearance. The muscle he had put on certainly helped, his once-lanky limbs now corded with it, his scarred abdomen thick with it. “I guess I’ve gotten used to having you.” 

Having. Luffy never would have used that language in the past. 

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. Just when you got it down, a hand wrapped around your leg, just above your knee. A gasp spilled from your lips at the feel of his calloused palm against your bare skin. 

“Missed you,” he muttered, rubbing his cheek against your bare thigh. You had taken to wearing fewer clothes while on Amazon Lily, and that was the first thing he had clocked when you appeared on his little island. The second thing he had noticed was your chest. Had you been hiding your breasts this whole time, or had he simply not noticed? Nearly two years mostly alone in the jungle had opened his eyes to many things, including that he had not been indulging in all that life had to offer, particularly not life as a pirate captain with a beautiful woman on his crew.  

“I missed you too, Luffy,” you muttered. You looked down at him and pulled your bottom lip into your mouth. You’d spent the entire journey with a dull ache between your legs that, if you were being honest, had begun building the moment you sailed away last time, but now that you were with him, now that you felt him touching you, you wondered how you had waited a full week to come crawling back. 

“Come ‘ere.” 

You put up no resistance as he laid back down, bringing you with him. You knew exactly what he wanted, knew exactly how starved he was for the sensitive folds between your legs. 

Luffy’s mouth had started watering the second he sensed your presence. He didn’t think twice about pulling you onto the ground with him and pushing your legs apart. The only thing that gave him pause were the panties you wore, an annoying piece of fabric he was convinced you wore just to inconvenience him. 

“Why?” He wanted to ask, but the words were stuck in his throat. He didn’t have time to waste on questions. He was hungry.  

He ripped your panties with ease. He thought he heard you gasp; you might have even complained. He barely heard, his ears ringing. The only thing that mattered was the sight of your pussy right in front of him, already leaking cream, glistening with his dessert. After a long week of hard training, he thought, this was exactly what he needed. 

“That’s my girl,” he said in a low voice. “Nice and ready.” He grabbed your thighs and pulled you down, burying his face in your needy cunt and inhaling the scent. Some sort of low sound, either a growl or a groan, spilled from his lips. 

He lapped at your wet folds, your flavor exploding on his tongue. His efforts earned him more of that wonderful wetness, and the taste of it only made him greedier. He thumbed your clit to draw more out of you and pushed his tongue into your tight little hole, eager to feel you clench around it as you came. 

He was vaguely aware of you gasping and saying his name, but he was more focused on the growing bulge between his legs, the rock hard erection that he had every intention of burying inside you- no condom, no protection, not a single layer between you as you fucked like wild animals in the jungle. 

He pulled his tongue out of your cunt long enough to say, “Take your clothes off.” 

You obliged, pulling your top off and tossing it aside. The chilly air made sure your nipples were nice and erect. You tweaked them as your captain shoved his tongue back into your hole, his thumb still tormenting your clit. It wasn’t a moment later that your first orgasm came over you, a pleasure that had you collapsing forward. 

Luffy tightened his grip on your thighs to keep your cunt on his face. 

“Sweet pussy,” he muttered, licking up all that cream. “Gonna cum again.” 

“Luffy.” You screwed your eyes shut, jarred by the overstimulation. 

He didn’t relent, humming in contentment as you gave him more and more sweet liquid to drink up, clenched harder and harder around his greedy tongue. He held you in place despite your body jerking around, and the result was another orgasm. He lapped at your cunt a few more times, savoring the way you bucked your hips against his face. 

Luffy’s appetite hadn’t been sated, not in the slightest, but he had no choice but to stop. His balls were aching between his legs, his cock rock hard and in desperate need of you. The way you clenched around his tongue was the way you’d clench around his cock, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. 

He supposed he could always lick your cunt some more after he fucked you. And then he could fuck you again, if he so desired. You had the entire night. 

With that in mind, he pushed you off his face, only to pin you under him, wrapping his strong arms around you and holding you beneath him. 

You struggled a little, but it was more out of habit than anything else, unaccustomed to being mounted, particularly not by your captain. But the way he wound his arms around you and pinned you beneath his body made your cunt ache. You needed to feel him inside you, needed to feel that delicious stretch, needed to feel full. 

Luffy nuzzled his cheek against yours, relishing the softness of your skin. He placed a few warm kisses against your cheek, and another few in the crook of your neck. 

“I’ve got so much cum in these balls,” he groaned. “You’re gonna take all of it. Can you do that for me? Can you take all my cum?” 

Pressing your lips together to keep the bottom one from quivering, you nodded your head with a sniffle. 

“Need to hear you say it, babe.” He reached between your bodies and undid the zipper of his shorts, pulling out his veiny cock. He pressed it into your ass, exhilarated by the sensation of your soft skin and supple flesh against his erection. He rutted against you a few times, unable to stop himself. 

You took a few breaths to find your voice. “I can do it. I can take all of it.” 

“That’s my girl.” 

God, when did Luffy get like this? You thought you were going to explode. And then, to make matters worse, he pushed the head of his cock into you. 

“Oh, fuck.” Tears pricked at your eyes. 

“You said you could take it,” he told you, pushing deeper inside you. 

You cried out. 

“Are you crying?” He gathered a fistful of your hair in his hand and pulled your head back. “After you promised you could take it?” 

“It’s just so good.” 

“I know it is.” With that, he bottomed out inside you. 

You barely had time to grow accustomed to the feel of his cock inside you before he began thrusting into you, dragging his hips against your ass and pounding your weepy little cunt like he owned it. And he did own it. 

The lewd clapping sound filtered through the forest, drowning out the crackle of the fire. Your moans followed as Luffy reached beneath you to pinch one of your nipples, his other hand finding your clit and thumbing it.  

The feeling of his warm balls slapping against you only made it worse. Soon enough, you felt yourself clenching around him, and it was that clench that drew Luffy’s orgasm out of him. 

“Oh, it’s coming. I’m cumming. Fuck.” He grunted and groaned, snapping his his against yours as he pumped you full of hot cum, thrusting a few more times for good measure to be sure it was nice and deep inside you.  

“Don’t worry,” he said, pressing a warm kiss into your cheek, covered in dirty and tears. “There’s more where that came from.” With that, he hopped to his feet, a smile stretching across his face. “You brought me dorayaki? Thanks!” 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[florencesf1blog]

hii

please number 10 from the smut prompt list no.3 with charles, maybe reader went out to the store or something and he is looking for one of his rings that he lost and finds her toys so he waits for her and makes her use them :)

wrong drawer

Charles Leclerc x fem!Reader

In which your boyfriend finds your…other partner.

Words: 908 Warnings: 18+, toys, voyeurism, language, poorly translated french (they do NOT teach you the dirty stuff in school)

Days like these were your favorite. The short period of time your boyfriend wasn’t occupied with training, racing or whatever media duties Ferrari put him up with. Right now, it was just the two of you.

Usually, Charles his romantic ass would try and go all out for you in the short amount of time you had together. But you assured him that a movie night on the couch would suffice.

The keys jingle as you turn the lock of the front door open, stepping foot inside your boyfriends apartment. You had gone out for a small 10 minutes to get some food, the small plastic bag hanging from your arm. You had expected Charles to be waiting for you on the couch, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Charles?” you call out, but you don’t get an answer. You put the bag down on the dining table, walking around the apartment in slight confusion. He wouldn’t have left while you were out. It made no sense.

Turning the handle of your bedroom door, you slowly open it to reveal Charles. You freeze once you notice the state of the scene. The bottom bedside drawer opened up, now no longer containing what it had before. Slowly, your eyes drift up towards Charles. The devious smirk on his face said it all. Once you opened your mouth to speak, he cut you off.

“Qu'est-ce que c'est?” (what is this?) he asks in an almost mocking manner. He knew exactly what he was holding, the sight of your tiny bullet vibrator in his hands making your cheeks flush red.

Do i lie? Tell him it’s something else? Maybe he’d believe me if i said it isn’t mine? ‘I’m holding on to that vibrator for a friend. Ha-ha’

“Mon cœur?” his voice breaks you out of your thought process, eyes drifting back up to meet this. “I use it when you’re gone. Just whenever i miss you and you’re far away and-“

“Show me.” his low, gruff voice stops your word vomit. And when you thought it couldn’t, your cheeks turn an even darker shade of red. “Show you?”

He nods his head simply, as if it is the most common request in the world. Maybe this should weird you out. Be the point where you cross the line. But the thought of him watching you, showing him that even the thought of him could make you feel that way was way more exciting than it should be.

He gets up from the bed, handing you your vibrator. This wasn’t the first time you’d use it, far from it. But all of it still felt new now that you had eyes on you. Slowly, you pull your sweats and panties down. Charles wat he’s your every move, his eyes roaming over your body. You crawl onto the bed, positioning yourself on your back with your legs up. Like a hawk, Charles watches as you slowly inch the toy closer to your center.

“Plus grand, ma belle” (wider) he commands as his hand ticks your ankle. Your legs spread further, giving him the full view of your wet pussy. You could’ve sworn you heard a growl escape him at the sight, making you feel a bit more confident. Letting the toy run through your folds, it comes to life as you press the button. A sigh of pleasure and relief escapes you as the ache between your legs is getting taken care of.

You position the vibrator on your clit, a gentle moan escaping your lips at the friction. Your hips buck upwards at the sensation, chest heaving up and down. It was a new type of pleasure, knowing you were being watched constantly. You circle it around, adding to your please as you put out a soft “Charles” to break the silence.

“Tellement jolie…” (so pretty) he nearly growls at the sight, his hard on stretching through his jeans. “Putain…” (fuck)

Knowing how much this turned him on it encouraged you to put on a show. Legs spreading wider, moans becoming louder and more frequent. You knew exactly what god him every single time.

You inch the vibrator down, slowly letting it into your pussy with a wet noise. A groan escapes as you move it in and out of yourself, your wetness dripping onto the sheets. You feel yourself get closer and closer as you let the vibrator go back up to your clit and switch in between the two. Charles knows the signs. The way your legs would start to tremble, the way your moans would become more frequent and your breathing heavier.

“That’s it bébé, jouis pour moi” (baby, cum for me) he mutters, and as you glance down at him it doesn’t take long before you do. He was basically drooling over you, his eyes so focused on the way your hand pushed the vibrator in and out of you. It was as if he was absolutely mesmerized. And it was enough to send you over the edge, a string of moans and some curses escaping you.

You let yourself ride out your high before putting the toy down, still panting from the overwhelming sensation. Charles stands back up to his full form, undoing the buttons and zipper of his jeans. He pulls them down along with his boxers, freeing his hard on.

“Nous n'en avons pas terminé, mon amour” (we are not done, my love)

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

A/N: got a lot of lando and oscar requests but thought id do a charles one first for some variation. btw i got like 30 requests within 30mins so i have a lot of writing to do. hope u guys enjoyed thise one :)

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ CONTROL ]

xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxx

[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM READER ] + [ CNC ] + [ SLIGHT BONDAGE ] + [ MENTIONS OF BLOOD ]

( as always lmk the artist for the fanart so i can tag them properly thanks)

xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxx

Hours.

You’d been at Alastor’s complete mercy for hours…

All because you dared to tell him ‘no’ once. You hadn’t meant to let the defiant response out but in the moment you were overwhelmed and extremely emotional.

It wasn’t your fault that every emotion you felt doubled in intensity during your heat, triggering a less than agreeable version of yourself, and consequently making your giving nature highly restrictive.

How could you give anything to anyone when all your mind could comprehend was taking from them? Using anything and anyone for pleasure or downright zoning the rest of hell out to think about doing it nonstop.

You couldn’t function properly like that and Alastor took advantage of your distracted state time and time again.

He’d spawned into your room, proclaiming he had a task for you to complete, one that ruined your solitude and would take all day.

“My dear, return this to Rosie for me,” he set a stack of books on your disorientated bed, not at all bothered by the glare you shot him as your head peeked from under the heavy duvet you’d curled into.

Couldn’t he see you were busy?

Nearly encompascited at this point, unable to speak without whining, and noticeably shaking as if your body was withdrawing from some awful drug.

In a sense, it was, but withdrawal wouldn’t cure your state.

However, Alastor refused to leave until he heard a response, standing stock still beside your bed with that devilish smile plastered on his face, and the sight drove you mad.

He was so infuriating, looking over you all the time, demanding one thing after the next, and always acting smug…

Telling what to do, when to do it, and how..

Controlling nearly every move you made with a single look, languid gesture, and passive command…

Oh, how you hated being under his unruly thumb but every time hatred surfaced a dull annoying wave of arousal would follow.

Alastor owned you, the essence of your soul, and yet every instinct and nerve you possessed was more agitated by the fact that he wasn’t staking a claim on your body as well.

So, out of pure spite, and slight uncharacteristic boldness you sat up on your knees and got right in his face. Alastor’s gaze raked over your flustered body as you carelessly unraveled yourself from the covers, almost bare in his presence if it weren’t for the oversized dress shirt you’d put on, but he wasn’t given much time to admire your smaller frame trying to size up his larger one.

His attention no longer mildly revolving around your exposed skin but rather the spiteful “No,” you hissed out.

That was new…

Alastor could’ve sworn your soul was his and not your own…which meant refusing him should never be an option.

You watched as his eyes narrowed at you, his grin widening as anger clouded his aura, but unlike other instances you didn’t shrink away or apologize.

No, you decided to take it further. Wanting to push the radio demons limits since he so proudly proclaimed that ripping your soul to pieces wouldn’t be a bother to him.

Maybe then he’d touch you or at least end your suffering through this heat.

“What did you just say to me?” Alastor seethes, static overriding his voice more than usual as you smile at him defiantly and repeat yourself loud and clear.

“I said: No. So, fuck off and find another poor soul to do your bidding…”

Alastor for the first time in a long time since his arrival in hell felt hot rage course through him as you collapsed back into bed like you’d won whatever argument you thought he was entertaining.

You heart was racing as you curled back into the covers, core throbbing with anticipation as his eyes burned holes into the back your head, and the demeaning silence seeming louder the longer he stared.

His ears twitched, smile almost a wicked snarl as his anger began to manifest into physical prowess. “Surely, you’ve mistaken me for someone who cares what you want or think…” he seethes, letting his natural voice ring freely through your room.

Not a good sign at all…not for you, anyway…

A sharp searing pain entraps your throat, a very familiar green chain binding itself to your neck, and with one swift tug on it Alastor has you up on your knees facing him again.

You instinctively wrench your head back, teeth gritting together as your hands fly up to claw at the materialized collar, but your efforts for freedom prove useless when Alastor yanks the restraint so harshly it chokes you for a solid minute.

“I’m more than willing to correct that assumption, darling. “ His lips brush yours as he speaks, sending shivers through you with every word, but you find the will to respond defiantly.

“You wouldn’t dare…” you snicker at the overload, attempting to jerk back from him again, but failing miserably as Alastor pulled the chain taut around one hand while raising the other to grip your jaw.

His claws dug into your cheeks, nearly drawing blood from the sheer pressure he enforced to keep you still, and you only complied when the pain became distracting.

You’d surely have marks left on your face but it was worth it. At least then everyone might realize how much of a fight you put up with Alastor, that despite being indebted to him you fought for freedom every chance you got, and had the scars to prove it.

Though he did find your stubbornness amusing most of the time, at this particular moment you were taking his patience too far and he was well aware it wasn’t intentional -more so a side effect of your predicament- but what was the fun in excusing your behavior on a technicality?

You would need to learn your place one way or another.

“Is that a challenge, little doe?” Alastor held your gaze, his shadows beginning to emerge and slither around your body. The ghostly chill they emitted never faded, cooling your burning skin as each spectrum bound your wrists, snaked around your thighs, and twisted up your entire torso. Alastor hummed in approval as the shadowy tentacles tightened, pressing the red linen fabric of the shirt to your skin, accentuating every curve you had and gradually riding the hem of it higher up your thighs.

You jolted feverishly, relived to be touched finally, but beyond agitated with your current position. Every shift and twist of the shadows sent a surge of arousal to your core, causing slick to drip down your legs, and the sensation threatened your ego.

Were you really about to cum from being talked down to and restrained? By Alastor no less, the very reason you’d lost free will, but the only demon you fantasized about constantly…

“Don’t look so fearful, my dear. I only wish to teach you a much needed lesson….” You stiffen as a shadow passes over your clothed cunt, sliding back and forth at his will, and easing more cum out of you with every motion.

“S-stop..” you moan softly, wanting to fall forward against his chest as your thighs trembled, but you’re kept perfectly balanced without Alastor’s direct support. He watches, drinking in the way your defiant expressions dissolve into lucid pleasure induced hazes, and keeping careful track of how fast his shadow slithers over your cunt. Your head drops as the world starts to spin around you, everything feeling fuzzy as the knot in your stomach tightened, and any resolve you had left fading quicker than you anticipated.

A perfect picture of submission…

Alastor dipped his head then, leaning over you to get a taste of your skin, teeth nipping at your ear, and his tongue dragging along the flushed skin of your neck. “Mmmm….d-don’t,” you whimper and shake, unconsciously arching your body closer to his as your eyes slide shut, but he simply ignores your pleas. His subtle licks and bites progress to intentional kisses, earning desperate moans from you, and desiccating what little self respect you had left.

It was hard to think straight, wanting to come undone already, and your cunt clenching around nothing with only his shadows dragging across your slit in a set pace. String after string of wanton moans leaped from your throat as his specters fondled your body, squeezing your breasts, swirling your waist to keep your hips rolling against your will, and securing your arms in a painful bind behind your back.

Alastor tugged on the chain occasionally, laughing into your ear every-time you choked on a sob or preemptively gasped for breath, and the contrasting sensations left you unprepared and incredibly delirious.

“N-nigh…ahm’m! Hah…hah…ah…” you struggled one last time, losing strength as your legs buckled indirectly shifting your balance to one side. Alastor let you fall, finding your state pathetic, but amusing.

His shadows never ceased as your back hit the mess of covers on your bed, seeming to get bolder as they slithered under the dress shirt, and held your legs apart to give the owner of your soul a clear view of your drenched cunt.

Alastor took quite a good look too, slowly lowering himself to be face to face with your heated core as he spoke down to you, “My, my…you truly have some worth to me now, ma chère…. I hope you don’t mind if I have a taste…” The stag peered up at your flushed expression, smile widening seeing the panic in your gaze flicker with eagerness, but the animosity ever present.

Hate.

You truly did hate Alastor.

He found it the most appealing aspect about you, a girl so desperate for power, now naively giving it away to him after failing to attain any.

A hatred he could consume, taunt, and use to keep you in line.

Even now, as his tongue replaced the shadows task of ravishing your cunt he could feel the waves of anger merging with satisfaction pouring straight out of you and into his waiting mouth. He hummed against your folds when you hips lifted sparactically, wordlessly begging him to go further, push your harder over the edge.

“Fuck…fuck! N-no…y-yes!..” you cried endlessly, out of breath as he lapped up your essence, “So…indecisive…” Alastor drawled against your cunt with a smirk gracing his slick lips.

You attempted to sit up, struggle, or scramble away from him altogether but his shadows wrestled your small body down into submission again. The air grew thick, laced with hushed radio static, and faintly distinct screams of the many souls Alastor had ripped and devoured to shreds mixed together. It was a warning to you -a threat in Alastor’s definition- and you broke into a cold sweat as he sat up on his knees to glare down at your trembling form.

Alastor tilted his head, red eyes threatening to dilate, and a green hue starting to flicker around him.

“Move again without my explicit permission, my dear, and I’ll fuck you within an inch of your pathetic life before ripping what remains of your precious soul to pieces…”

Fear, wouldn’t begin to describe the blood chilling emotion that flooded you as his smile became eerily soft, not at all reaching his eyes, and the distortion in his tone reaching new heights as he lowered his face a millimeter from your own.

“Understood?” Alastor quipped, addicted to seeing your hopeful eyes darken with despair and lust when he threatened you into submission, “U-understood…” you mumble in return.

“Splendid! Now,….where was I?…”

The stag observed your restrained state, presenting a false sense of confusion as his shadows continued to toy with you, and when an inkling of a moan threatened to fly from your drooling mouth a tentacle invaded that space too.

Alastor chuckled lowly, finding the sight of you choking on the spectrum delightful, and your distressed gasps for air dwindling to pleasured whines becoming music to his ears. They flicked atop his head, perking up when you rolled your eyes to the back of your own while the shadow swirled in your throat as if searching for more warmth in your fragile body.

“Ah, I remember now. You were in need of my gracious assistance….” Alastor’s hands found your legs, claws grazing your damp thighs just hard enough to leave light red marks in their wake, and he only stopped scratching your skin to grasp at your ankles. He jerked your lower half closer to his own with a singular tug and you nearly gagged on his shadow as a yelp built in your chest from the rough movement.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as the need to breathe weighed on your lungs, hips unconsciously rolling to press harder into his obviously large erection, and in any other circumstance you’d fight for air over urging Alastor to fuck you…

But the thought of enduring your heat cycle for another minute erased any sense of logic you’d been clinging to since he’d barged in.

You needed him.

You needed Alastor to have his way with you… breathing be dammed…

He read your actions like a memorized book, snapping his fingers once to remove the shadow from your numbing mouth before bringing a hand up to cup your jaw. Alastor’s fingers squished your cheeks as he angled your head up to look at him directly.

Desire.

You desired him now, desperately.

Hate was no longer swirling in your watery eyes.

What a wonderful sight…

“Say it, mon chere…” Alastor spoke uncharacteristically quiet as you stared at him through your tear heavy lashes, “Ask me for help like the polite and sweet girl I know you to be…”

All your pride vanished, heat engulfing your body in waves as the need to be in control of yourself shut down completely hearing his gentle encouragement, “I need…” you began in a timid whisper, but Alastor clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he corrected you with low hum, “Mm mm, darling…where’s that ‘please’ at, hm?..”

“P-please!…ahmm…” you paused as a shaky whine tumbled from lips, shock coursing through you as he finally grinned his hips in rhythm with yours, “Please…help me…need your help…please A-Alastor…”

You babble, begging as he asked you to, and forgetting to care about how indecent you looked while doing so.

Alastor hummed in approval, letting you face go to unbuckle his belt and remove his bow tie before shrugging his jacket off. You watched in slight awe as more of his physique was brought into view. Alastor had a lean frame, seemingly slimmer than most demons at his power level, but that was all but an illusion apparently.

He was tall, hovering above you at a massive seven feet and another few inches, an evenly placed mass of muscle to match, and pale grey skin adorning a few scars. His usual demonic form portrayed him as prey but as you saw him now….he was far from the definition.

You were a bit terrified he’d unintentionally tear you apart in the current state he’s in -no antagonized version needed.

“There’s no need to be so afraid of me, little one…” Alastor mused at your wandering eyes, head lowered to the crook of your neck, and his tongue licking a long stripe over the skin there before he bit down hard.

“Hah!” You screamed in pain as his sharp teeth penetrated your skin, dark blood spilling into his mouth as he T asted your flesh, and no amount of your crying made the radio demon relent his greed for it.

You were tempted to kick around, smack him hard, and resist, but the memory of his very malicious threat ceased any fight or flight response you’d developed while under his control.

Alastor grinned, retracting himself from your throat with a lick of his lips, “You’re such a good girl… so well behaved for me now…” he praised you tenderly.

You shivered as he kissed the wound he made, his compliments causing a blush to burn your cheeks, and your stomach to so several flips.

“I could just eat you alive, sweetheart….” He panted into your ear, clearly feigning like a predator on the hunt for prey, and for once you were glad to be his next victim.

“Please do…m’ all yours…” you mumble in return, dazed out of your mind as he laughs while pushing the head of his cock past your drooling folds.

“Never forget it again, my dear. Ever.”

xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxx

Idk if is should turn this into 2 parts are not. I’ll see how you all like this one first and decide from there. Bye, loves! ❤️ Tune in again soon! ❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

Him + Lana = Perfect Combination 🥰 credit to creator ❤️

[theemporium]

people requested a part two to this wee blurb so here it is because i desperately need some fluff to cope with today's race!!🤠

.

Despite his insistence, Daniel didn’t think you would actually take up his offer. 

He had been dragged around the paddock and the media pen, attending different interviews and conferences and all the other shenanigans media day on a race weekend ensured. And, much to his dismay, he hadn’t seen you once since that morning. 

He assumed you were locked away in some room in the motorhome, most likely drowning in graphs and data sheets from the last few races as you and your colleagues discussed what the best plan of action for the cars would be this weekend. 

He was surprised when he knocked on the engineering staff’s doors, only for every single team member to tell him that they hadn’t seen you since the last meeting. 

Daniel would be lying if he said his concern didn’t grow—especially when his messages to you came back unanswered. 

He found himself running around the paddock like a mad man, stopping by other team’s garages to see if you had stopped by. A move that was ultimately useless because he couldn’t find you and all he got was shit from other drivers. 

“Lost your girl, lover boy?” Lando had teased, the nickname somehow having made its way around the paddock—probably by Max himself. 

“Shut up, Norris,” Daniel grumbled, and it was a shock to a lot of the paddock to see the Aussie driver so grumpy. 

He had convinced himself that maybe you had headed back to the hotel early and quickly raced back to his driver’s room, prepared to grab his stuff and bolt before someone could drag him into another media duty, only to fall short when he caught the sight in front of him. 

You were lying on the couch, still bundled up in his hoodie with your arms tucked under your head as a pillow, looking far more peaceful than you did that morning. 

His face instantly softened, and he quickly glanced down the hall before he closed the door behind him, making his way toward the couch until he was kneeling beside you. 

“Sunshine,” he murmured softly, reaching to gently shake your shoulder but you remained fast asleep. He frowned a little, wondering just how little sleep you had gotten the night before to be so tired during the day. 

He muttered your name this time, a little louder and when he shook you, he found you slowly blinking your eyes open. 

You let out a soft whine, nuzzling your face further into your arms and Daniel smiled a little at the sight. 

“C’mon, sunshine, if you sleep any longer, you won’t be able to sleep tonight,” he grinned down at you, watching as you lifted your head to stare at him. 

“Danny?” you murmured sleepily before everything clicked. Realisation dawned on you and you quickly tried to get up, ignoring the rush to your head from moving so quick. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”

“Hey, hey,” he frowned and placed his hands on your shoulders, stopping you from getting up. “It’s fine, I said you could nap in my room for a reason.” 

“I wasn’t meant to, I—” you paused, letting out a sigh. “I just came here to wait for you until you finished up. I must’ve fallen asleep.” 

Daniel didn’t bother hiding his grin. “You were waiting for me, sunshine?” 

Your cheeks burned but you nodded. “I was gonna offer to get you dinner, to say thank you.” 

The Aussie’s grin widened. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you murmured before tucking your chin against your chest. “But you’re probably busy so I’ll just—”

“Woah, woah, woah, not so fast, sunshine,” Daniel pushed you back onto the couch before you could get up, still kneeling in front of you. “Who said I was too busy to get dinner with a pretty girl like you?” 

You could’ve sworn your body was on fire at this point, and a part of you wondered how much Daniel enjoyed making you squirm. 

“You gotta stop saying stuff like that, Ricciardo,” you laughed, hoping the nerves in your voice weren’t obvious. “Or else I might start getting the wrong idea.”

“And what idea would that be?” he asked, his eyes never once leaving yours.

Yet, you found yourself unable to reply.

“Because I would hope that the girl I like is starting to catch the hint that I have been flirting with her for the last few months,” he announced, so casually that for a second you thought you imagined it.

You blinked. “What?”

Daniel grinned. “Did you actually not hear me or do you just wanna hear me say I like you again, sunshine?” 

Your face softened. “You like me?” 

“Of course I do,” he murmured, his hands resting on your knees as he gave them a soft squeeze. “Thought I was being pretty obvious with it.” 

“Not obvious enough,” you muttered.

“The boys would think otherwise,” Daniel snorted. “Now, how about you get that pretty ass up and we get some dinner so I can tell you all about how much I like you?”

You laughed. “My treat, Ricciardo.”

Daniel scoffed, pushing himself to stand up before offering his hand to you. “You’re fucking delusional if you think I’m letting you pay, sunshine.” 

“How am I meant to show I like you too?” you asked, unable to hide your smile as the driver tucked you under his arm, grinning down at you too.

“I don’t know, I think a kiss would be pretty telling,” he shrugged.

You rolled your eyes. 

“But I have a feeling I might have to wait until you’re not as hangry before I get one from you.”

.

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Convenient Inconvenience

Summary: Forced to share a tent on a mission, the simmering tension between you and Xaden finally reaches a breaking point.

Fictober Challenge

This mission had dragged on longer than expected, forcing you to settle in for the night. Luckily, Xaden had packed a small tent as an emergency measure, but he’d only packed one. That had left you frustrated, realizing that it was partly your fault too, for not bringing your own. In your defense, you’d assumed the mission would end smoothly.

A charged silence hung between you both as the reality of sharing a tent set in. You tried to keep your focus on unrolling your mat, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the tension that had been growing between you for months. The cramped space felt even smaller with him inside, every move amplifying your heartbeat as you sensed him close behind, watching you.

The silence became unbearable, heavy with something you couldn’t name, as you lay on your mat trying to feign ease. But your heart raced each time he shifted closer. Every so often, his gaze flicked over to you, lingering a bit too long, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.

You had to say something, break the silence.“You really couldn’t have packed an extra tent?” you muttered, attempting to keep your voice casual but failing to mask the edge in your tone. 

He could’ve argued, pointing out that you’d forgotten your own, but he let it go, opting for a softer response. “Well, I’m sure we’ll manage for one night,” he replied, his words coming out quieter than he’d intended.

A moment passed, thick with unspoken words, and you could practically feel his smirk. He turned onto his side, facing you, his arm brushing against yours. The touch was light, barely there, yet it sent a spark down your spine. You glanced over, meeting his gaze, steady and intense, as if waiting to see if you’d pull away.

“Are you uncomfortable?” he asked, a hint of amusement threading his voice, almost challenging you.

You forced a laugh, shrugging, though his nearness made it hard to think straight. “I’m fine, Riorson. Just… trying to get comfortable.” You avoided his gaze, but his eyes traced over you, trailing over your face, lingering on your mouth.

Another moment passed, the air growing thicker, every breath loaded with anticipation. He shifted again, his hand brushing against yours deliberately this time, his fingers grazing your knuckles, his touch light, almost testing. “Strange,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver through you. “You don’t look fine.”

You turned to him, finally meeting his gaze head-on. His eyes were dark, intense, and filled with unspoken desire. “You’re… seeing things,” you managed, struggling against the heat radiating from him and the way his gaze seemed to strip away any defense you had.

“Am I?” he asked, his tone smooth and teasing, his mouth twitching into the faintest of smirks. “Because you seem a little… tense.”

You gaze flicked involuntarily to his mouth, and that fucker noticed, his smirk deepening. “And if I am?”

His hand shifted, his fingers tracing a light, almost absentminded line along your wrist, the touch setting your skin alight. “I could help with that,” he murmured, his eyes encouraging as they locked on yours, his face now only inches away, the question clear in his gaze.

You wanted to tell it was because of him, but you had a feeling he already knew.

You swallowed, your words caught in your throat, the tension between you impossible to ignore. His fingers continued their maddening path, traveling up your arm, igniting every inch they touched. You could’ve sworn he was slowly undressing you with his eyes, ready to ravish you at any moment.

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over your lips, his gaze heavy-lidded, dangerous. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, “and I will.”

Your mind went blank, no rational thought left. You wanted him, you needed him. So instead of stopping him, you closed the distance, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was soft but deepened quickly, years of restraint breaking in an instant. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, your bodies pressed together in the small space as the air around you cracked. Each touch, each kiss fueled a fire you’d tried for so long to ignore. You’d probably regret this in the morning, but right now, you didn’t care. All you cared about was him- his touch, his kiss, and everything that would follow.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

ⱧɆ₳Ɽ₮ ₴Ⱨ₳₱ɆĐ ฿ØӾ

☽ Pairing ☾ warlock!christian yu x witch!chubby!fem!reader

☽ Genre ☾ supernatural au , fluff, smut

☽ Summary ☾ When his first attempt at a spell ends in him being chased out of town, Christian stumbles through the woods and stumbles upon your cottage. Unwelcoming to visitors, you attempt to chase him off but there's just something about this stranger that makes it impossible to turn him away.

☽ Word Count ☾ 2.7k-ish

☽ Warnings ☾ mentions of death/funerals (it's handled comedically so nothing gruesome), witchcraft obviously, unprotected sex, nibbling, a lil bit of rough sex, soft dom christian vibes, overstimulation, creampie, pet names (darling, love), & that's all babes.

☽ A/N ☾ I wrote this as a request for @magoapple who loves Christian Yu as much as I do. Thank you for trusting me to write up your idea and I hope that it came out the way you wanted. Love you 💜

It was supposed to be a simple sleep spell. A few sprigs of dried mugwort, ground lepidolite, the toe of a dead man, a splash of moon water, two creams, three sugars. Or was it three creams, two sugars? Racing through the trees, bare branches grasping at his limbs like the claws of the damned, Christian knows he made a mistake somewhere.

His grandmother’s spells, written on tea stained scraps of paper, provided clear instructions. Naturally a few words here and there had faded over time but how important could they have truly been?Important enough that they might've kept him from cooking up the nauseating potion that made him pass for a corpse.

The days of grieving that preceded his funeral service were hell for everyone but him. While dozens wept he snoozed peacefully. Arrangements were made. His pinstripe white suit was tailored. An oak wood casket was measured to suit his height. The only thing missing, the very thing that saved him, was that the mortician skipped the embalming process.

In a small middle of nowhere town like this, people are prone to superstition. When the mortician placed his scalpel to Christian’s throat, prepared to make his first incision, he could’ve sworn he heard a low humming noise. A death rattle is what they call it. Unremarkable when heard coming from the dying but when it’s coming from the dead? Cut into them and the sound will haunt you for the rest of your days.

And so he quietly left him intact. Something he’d come to regret when his wife rushed into the funeral home screaming in terror that the boy had risen from the dead at his own funeral. The townspeople were unhappy to say the least. Glancing over his shoulder, Christian can still see raging globes of orange looming between the trees. The flames of torches meant to burn him to ash.

There’s chatter amongst the small group of men tasked with capturing him. Their voices aren't distinctive in the slightest but their anger—their fear—seeps into their surroundings. One of the men managed to cut his arm before he escaped. His hand clings to the wound, gathering the fabric of his tattered suit to soak up the blood that drips from it.

He’s out of breath, lungs burning with every step he takes. He doesn’t know how much longer he can run or even where he’s running to. Only that he has to keep going or he’ll be burned at the stake. He knows he’s been running in a straight line but suddenly the trees seem to bend as if he’s made a right turn. The change is dizzying, causing him to stumble but he has to keep running. Straight? No, left. No, right. No.

Thud! His body collides with something unseen, knocking him to the ground. “What the hell!” you shout, bracing yourself for the fall. You land hard on your bottom, the basket of herbs on your arm spilling out into the grass. Scrambling to your feet, you spot the beast that slammed into you though he’s no beast at all. Despite his disheveled appearance, the dark haired man has a gentleness to him that makes you want to rush to his aid.

Watching him dust himself off, you see that he’s injured...and handsome. Incredibly handsome. But how did he get here? How? “Oh my goodness, I’m so happy I found you. You have to help me!” he pleads, grasping at your arm to pull himself up. You back away, sensing the impending presence of even more unwanted company. “You led them here? To my home! Who sent you?” Eyeing the cozy cottage behind you, Christian questions if he’s alive after all.

Everything from the chestnut shingles on the roof to the cobblestone path with flowers springing out from between the cracks reminds him of the story books he read as a child. Vines of wisteria climb the walls, bundles of lavender adorning the arches of the windows and doors. A place like this—it shouldn’t be here. 

“You shouldn’t be here! Whoever sent you—” you say, lowering your voice to a hush. “No one sent me. I’ve just, I’ve had a day, alright? If you don’t help me they’ll kill me so please, please help me.” You want to turn him away, send him right back in whatever direction he came from, but you can’t. The sincerity of his pleas tug at your heartstrings, playing them like a violin.

Behind him you spot the lights of the torches, bringing back dark memories of what lead to your life of solitude to begin with. Shaking away the ghosts of your past, you rush to pull his jacket off. “Take your clothes off!” “Hey!” he squeals, twisting free, “What are you doing?” “You stink of graveyard dirt. It’s interfering with my spell. Take your clothes off, anything the dirt touched, and dispose of them!”

Christian hesitates, unsure he wants to trust a strange woman’s demands to strip down, no matter how beautiful she is. “Just do it before you get us both killed!” “So feisty! Fine, I’ll do it!” Finally getting his jacket off, you toss it into the trees. Christian follows your lead, hurriedly stripping down to his underwear and disposing of the clothes in a small scattered area just beyond your grass. 

You’re ashamed of yourself. Staying focused has always been your strength and men, unfortunately, have always been your weakness. His muscled body is covered in inked markings, mesmerizing you to the point of total distraction. Christian catches you staring and winks, “Like something you see, darling?” “Ugh, you’re already unbearable!” you huff, marching towards your home. “Come inside, we need to handle that wound.” “What about them?”

Pushing your front door open, you turn around and begin counting backwards from 10. Gradually, the torches snuff out and the voices fade into the night. “We’re invisible to them now. They won’t find us. They won’t find anything. The trees will twist until they can’t even find each other.” You say this with a coldness that betrays your sweet exterior and fuels his curiosity.

“You’re magnificent” he muses, making you crack something too fleeting to register as a smile though it’s something resembling one. Lowering your head to hide your amusement, you step inside and he trails behind you, a lost puppy in search of a home. “Whoa” he gasps, marveling at the decor. It’s rustic and simple yet everything in it seems priceless. Even the picture frames appear ornate, the paintings within their boundaries thriving with life.

If he stands still long enough he could swear the paintings move. “Do you plan to bleed out on my carpet?” you tease, standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a blanket and a small basket holding your own special first aid supplies.

“When did you get those?”

“Get what?”

“The blanket and the…they just…”

“Appeared?” you laugh, handing him the blanket, “Things tend to do that around here. Come sit.” 

Wrapping himself in the blanket, Christian makes his way into the kitchen. “Might you have a name, stranger?” you ask, setting up your own makeshift medical station at the table. “Christian. And yours?” Unraveling a roll of gauze, you glance up to find him staring at you with a longing in his eyes that even he may not be aware of. It makes your heart skip a beat, your pulse racing as you catch yourself slipping under his spell once more.

The sound of a pot boiling over on the stove reels you back in. You clear your throat, hurrying to tend to the dinner you’d so quickly forgotten about. Jumping into action, Christian grabs an oven mitt and is right at your side helping to put out a small fire before it catches. “Goodness, look at me. I’m such a mess. Forgive me, I just—this is a lot and I—” you ramble, flustered by the culmination of events.

You stop to catch your breath, a hand clutched to your chest. This is far more excitement than you were prepared for. “Would you like something to eat, Christian?” Your question makes him suddenly aware of how long it’s been since he last had a bite to eat or even a sip of water. The aroma rising from the pots is mouthwatering, only making matters worse. If he had enough moisture in his body to drool he would.

“I would love that, thank you.” You take him by the hand, leading him back to his chair to properly examine his wound. “I’ll feed you and fix you up then off you go. Understood?” He nods obediently, praying that mind reading isn’t among your abilities. As annoyed as you may be at his arrival, there’s still something so inviting about you. You handle him with such warmth. The very warmth that was so cruelly stripped from his life without warning. What intention could he possibly have of letting you rush him off?

But he lies anyway, settling into the comfort of your touch. “Understood.” 

Chirp! Chirp! The baby bird cupped in Christian’s hands flutters its wings. A thorn peeks from between its feathers, preventing it from taking flight. “Poor thing” you pout, pinching the thron and plucking it free, “There you go. All better, aren’t we?” Christian looks to you with the same admiration that he has everyday since he stumbled upon your cottage, injured and alone like this sweet little bird.

Weeks have passed since then, both of you finding excuses for him to stay before ultimately doing away with the notion altogether. Before his arrival you’d never spent mornings like this sitting barefoot in the grass enjoying the utopia your magic had created. Now every morning begins this way with him, hours spent opening up to him in ways you never thought you would with anyone.

You shudder to think of how long you spent locked up in that house, hidden from everything bad in the world and consequently everything, at least one thing, good. Christian sets the bird down in the grass, watching it hop off into the distance and disappear beyond the invisible veil that surrounds your home. “Darling,” he says, a sweet nickname he’s come to call you, “Have you ever thought about leaving?” You laugh at the obscenity of such a question, “Leaving? Wh-why would I do that?”

Sensing the anxiousness in your voice, he intertwines his fingers with yours, brushing his thumb along the back of your trembling hand. “There’s a big, wide world out there, darling. You can’t hide here forever.” It’s a knife through your heart to hear him say that word. Hide. “I’m not hiding here. This place keeps me safe. It keeps us safe.” You move to snatch your hand away but he only holds it tighter, bringing you closer to him.

“But it keeps us still. Something as beautiful as you are shouldn’t be kept. Beautiful things should be free, shouldn’t they?” “And who’ll protect me?” Christian smiles, deep brown eyes refelcting the morning sun, “I will.” Instinctively you want to make a mad dash for the front door, slam it behind you and shut everything out. But with it would go your new companion, the light at the end of a tunnel of seemingly eternal loneliness.

His other hand finds your waist, bringing you onto his lap. “I owe you everything” he whispers against your lips, “Won’t you let me give it to you?” He wraps his arms around you, kissing you with all the passion his words can’t communicate. It steals your breath away, killing that urge to run away. Your fingertips trace his jawline as you tilt forward to deepen the kiss. His tongue ventures further into your mouth, his hands finding their way under your flowy black dress.

Your skin’s softer than the most expensive silk. He can’t get enough of touching you, caressing you. Light sparks of what feels like electricity give you goosebumps as he trails up your spine. “Come with me” he begs, kissing his way down your collarbone. His tongue teases your cleavage, rounding what lush flesh of you breasts overflows from your lowcut neckline.

Christian tugs the front of your dress down, groaning in pleasure as your breasts fall free of the material. Taking your nipple between his lips, he eagerly buries his face into your chest, suckling at the bud. You throw your head back, eyes falling closed, and profess to the skies that you’ll do it. “Yes” you moan, grinding down to feel him hard against your core, “I’ll do it.”

Christian hums happily, nibbling at your stiffened bud as he reaches between your legs to stroke your slit through your panties. Only there are none. They’ve disappeared. He looks up at you, perplexed. He knows you were wearing them. “Where—” “Did you forget?” you giggle, watching the awe on his face as he feels his cock spring from his pants, “I’m magic.” “Yes, you are.”

Magic in every sense of the word. Not only in the intoxicating kiss you pull him into. Not only in the way that you sink down onto him, swallowing every throbbing inch of him into you. You’re magic in the strands of hair that fall between his fingers and in the voice that cries out his name. “Christian!” you moan, tearing his shirt away to reveal the tattooed form you’ve lusted for from the start. He bounces you in his lap, bottoming out with each thrust of his hips. It sends shockwaves through you, your juices pooling at the base of his cock.

Your toes curl, back arching as the blood rushing up his shaft has his veins pulsing while you clench around him. “I’ve wanted you for so long” he confesses, gripping the plush of your ass. “Oh god, me too. So badly.” As if you needed to say it. You’re so wet that he can feel you juices splashing on his fingers each time your bodies meet. That says everything. But he loves to hear your voice. Hear you say that you’ve wanted him as much as he wants you. “Darling” he coos, his face in your neck, inhaling your scent, “You’re shaking.”

You are. It started when he first took your hand and it hasn’t stopped since. One especially rough thrust makes you cry out, your pussy beyond overstimulated by the return of sensations you haven’t felt in years. Your eyes sparkle with tears, a tightness gripping your chest, “Too much! Ah, can’t…” In one graceful motion he has you on your back, your trembling knees pressed back to spread you wider. “Ssh, you can. You can take it for me. My brave girl, hmm?”

You squirm beneath him, this new angle perfect for slamming into your sweet spot. “You...are...the...devil” you gasp, legs wrapping around his waist. “Not the first time I’ve heard that, love” he chuckles, taking that as a challenge. Pinning your hands above your head, he picks up speed, claiming every part of you in every way he can until you’re—

“Christian—I—I’m—oh my goddesses.” 

“That’s it my lovely. Wanna feel you—”

Your orgasm washes over you, the waves powerful enough to pull you under. You’re drowning and you bring him right along with you. You're overcome with every emotion all at once as you hold each other tight, flowing into each other, sticky and sweet.

The sky darkens. The air is still. For a moment you hear nothing and then your body relaxes. The sun returns, the sky somehow prettier than it was before. Christian collapses on top of you, his face disappearing beneath a mess of dark hair as he lays his head on your chest. He squints his eyes, noticing that, beyond his curtain of hair, he can spot parts of the forest he hadn’t seen before.

In the distance, the little wounded bird hops around with his friends. Not too far away he spots remnants of the clothing he tossed away when he found you. He can see everything now and that means everything can see him. It can see you. “So, where to first?” you beam, admiring the view with him.

“Anywhere you want, darling, as long as I’m with you.”

[moopsoup]

Contents: Shidou Ryusei x Y/N, female reader, blowjob, hair pulling(??), dirty talk, overstimulation

note: bro i need him so bad man wtf. GIMMIE HIM. i would literally suck it off the bone like a madman. there’s not enough shidou stuff on here ;(

Word count: 480

Ryusei just can't stand looking at you when you've got your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock. The sight is too damn much for him to handle.

He’d let out a low moan as your soft, plump lips slowly drag up his cock, pausing to swirl your tongue around his tip. He just knows if he so much as glanced at you, he’d be spilling down your throat in three seconds flat.

"F-fuck, thats it baby...just like that" He’d groan, fingers tangling in your hair and pulling gently. He has to fight the urge to just buck his hips and bury himself deeper down your throat. The heat's building low in his belly, threatening to unravel at any moment. He takes a shaky breath, trying his damnedest to hold on just a little longer.

Though that all ended when you hummed softly around him, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure racing up his spine as you glanced up at him through those pretty, thick lashes, eyes dark and hungry. You flicked your tongue against his leaking slit, his resolve crumbling in an instant.

"Shiiiit" he'd moan out, his back arching and fingers tightening in your hair as his orgasm crashes over him. His head thrown back, cursing under his breath as he empties himself down your eager throat.

But the sensation is almost too much - the way your mouth still works him relentlessly, milking him for every. last. drop, has him trembling and overstimulated as you kept going.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck—" he'd whimper, fingers tightening brutally in your hair. It’s honestly expected that the freaky fuck loved the way the overstimulation bordered on pain, sending shockwaves through his body.

His muscles tense as his back arched off the bed. He was hyper-aware of every brush of your lips, every flick of your tongue. It's too much, the sensations overwhelming him until he's a whimpering and whining mess.

"Mmmhhhh babyyy," he'd hiss, hips jerking weakly as you continue to suck him dry. His vision goes hazy, world narrowing down to the relentless suction of your mouth and the burning, tingling ache radiating through his spent cock. Yet some masochistic part of him craves the pain, the way it blurs the line between pleasure and pain. His eyes rolled back as another wave of mind-numbing pleasure crashes over him. He could’ve sworn his soul just left his body.

You pull off of his cock with an obscene, wet pop, eliciting a shudder from the oversensitive man. His eyes are hazy with pleasure, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. But just as you think he's had enough, he gives you that look. That hungry, desperate look that let you know he was far from done.

" ‘M not done yet baby," he rasps, fingers tangling in your hair. "Wanna fuck that pretty pussy"

You were in for a long night

[itiswhatitisboi]

naked in manhattan || k. ledecky

katie ledecky x swimmer!reader

summary: katie had been your teammate for the past couple olympics and didn’t notice how much you were in love with her, a friendship you cared more about losing than a race.

warnings: none x

words: 2.6k

pictures cred by sinnerjannik !

first try at writing for katie i hope it’s alright! i have a lot of exposition i feel like so maybe there’ll be a part 2, who knows!

“there she is! she’s done it! once again, she is an olympic champion! setting a new record, nobody can ever count her out!”

that was the video of the announcer’s filtering through your speakers as you watched what all your friends and family had sent you, smiling at their reaction videos texted to you.

“is that from your mom?” katie’s voice asked, leaning over your shoulder to watch your phone screen.

you peeked back at her, smiling, “yeah. her and my brothers sent me this a while ago from when i competed earlier. i’m just watching it now cause i haven’t had the time.”

“makes sense.” katie nodded. “i could recognize her squeals from anywhere.”

you laughed. “man, of course you did. she always cheered louder for you than for me during races.”

the blonde laughed along with you. “not true!” the look on your face told her all she needed to know and she conceded, “okay but if she did, i cheered so hard whenever you swam to make up for it.”

you and katie ledecky had known each other since the rio olympics, which had been your debut and her second appearance, but the both of you were only a year apart at ages 19 and 18.

while you had no particular reason to be as close as you two were, your relationship was the strongest on usa’s swim team. when you were a late decision to be added to the relay, it only seemed to make the bond stronger as katie instilled all of her confidence into you. confidence that pushed you to have your best split in the butterfly portion— your stroke.

you placed gold twice in your debut, besides additionally coming in fourth for the 200 meter butterfly race. that had bummed you out back then, until katie had reminded you of the medals you already adorned and to not dwell on missing the podium no matter how many seconds it was, which was annoying to you because it was only 0.001.

eight years later you were still on the national team, still in the conversation as a medal finalist, and most importantly of all, still best friends with katie— the woman you were madly in love with.

maybe it was all the training, the long practice sessions, the work outs that all prompted you to spend more time with a girl that went to an entirely different school than you in those four years. until you ended up spending all your time with her. maybe it was her laugh, or the sparkle in her eye when she smiled. maybe it was the way she considered you before she thought of herself and you always did the same. or maybe it was at that one celebratory party where you got a little too drunk, a little too focused on her defined muscles that you just couldn’t help from wanting to touch.

you weren’t sure when it had happened..but it had.

and for some reason, this olympics felt different than all the others. sure, maybe paris the city of love was causing you to be a little more flirty with your remarks or touchy when you joked. but you could’ve sworn that katie leaned into you more.

was it contributed to the fact that the both of you were the two oldest female swimmers there? if it were, you didn’t care.

you held onto her gaze longer than you should, you smiled wider, and you just knew that anyone with a pair of eyes could probably agree with you that there was something.. something.

but no matter, you were going to enjoy this olympic games to the fullest.

and you had been. that’s for sure.

even at 27, when people had counted both you and her out of the paris olympics for your ages because you had to have peaked, right?— katie ledecky was proving everyone wrong. how she’s a generational talent, a leader, a gold finalist, and always shattering the glass ceiling that people tried to place her under. once again.

katie ledecky was amazing— perfect, in your opinion.

you didn’t compete that day so you were watching from in the stands with some of the boys from the swim team. when she started her take in her moment of glory, you excused yourself and shimmied past to make it down to the bottom.

you squeezed through two very enthusiastic australians and waved her down as she neared. “hey! ledeckster!”

katie’s head instantly snapped in your direction and the joy on her face seemed to grow once she spotted you. she broke into a jog until she reached you. the medalist’s arms instantly wrapped around you as you leaned over the bar.

“congratulations! it was your’s all day!” you tell her excitedly. “your race, ledecky!”

you heard her lightly laugh into your ear before pulling away to look at you. her smile was the most contagious thing you’ve ever seen. “thanks. i had no idea how ahead i was.”

“it was amazing. you’re amazing, you know that? keep showing ‘em what’chu got. okay? remind the world who you are, katie.”

katie laughed and it spread warmth throughout your body. “what would i do without you?” she grabbed your hand that gripped the railing and gave it a squeeze before peeling herself away to finish the rest of the lap.

a rush of heat colored your cheeks as you smiled to yourself, making your way back to your teammates. she had no idea how much what she said and did affected you, hanging onto to every touch, every word. she had no idea what she was doing to you—but it was driving you crazy.

the next time you saw a medal around katie’s neck was when you both partook in the freestyle relay and placed first.

stepping onto the podium, you realized a hand found its way to intertwine with yours, belonging to katie. you looked at her with bright eyes to find her grin wide, just filled with so much damn joy, a sparkle twinkling in her eye, nearly matching the crest of the chlorine pool reflecting the bright lights of the stadium above.

looking at katie made your heart flutter in such a way that butterflies seemed to fill your stomach, twirling around in a way that practically mirrored your typical butterfly stroke and the way you had to turn yourself around in the water. a smile on your face blossomed to match katie’s and it made the olympian give your hand a squeeze.

you held onto the hands of your teammates on the other side of you, forming a link from an initiation made by the captain. the captain you’d follow until the rest of time, from previous olympic games to this one, and to your last, whenever that may be.

and maybe this was your last games. because you stood there, soaking in the moment of finishing the swimming events on top, beating australia in gold and all other medals. nobody could touch usa. most of that was probably contributed to the talent beside you and that was when the realization struck.. you were finally ready. the only next thing to do was to figure out how to tell katie because if anyone had to know, it would be her.

after the ceremony you were paraded around and eventually directed to a panel of journalists, with one asking the question, “you have an icon here right now, next to you.” you watch katie duck her head at the realization that his gesturing meant his words were referring to her, and you cracked a wide smile. “she’s done such amazing things. tell us, what’s it like to just be in the area with her? what does she mean to this sport?” katie raised a brow, which prompted the interviewer to comment, “katie, you can answer it if you want, too:”

“i’ll just say ‘no comment’.” she waved her hand in a cutting motion along her throat.

“let me at it,” joked ryan murphy on the other end of the panel.

“i’ll answer,” you said as you leaned forward to the mic.

you peeked besides you at a blushing katie who was studying her hands in her lap. she must’ve felt your eyes on her because she glanced at you out of the corner of her eye and her smile at you caused your heart to flutter in your chest.

“i’ve been her teammate for over a decade now and i think the way she carries herself is second to none. she’s so humble and just such a naturally good leader but even better friend and person, which makes her great to be around. she’s unbelievable, and special and easily one of the best athletes of all time for our sport. we’re lucky to have her on our team.” you finished your answer and looked at katie once more, finding a glimmer in her eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher but it made you smile anyways.

todd went on to add his own response to the question and katie leaned over, whispering, “you know, i could say the same for you. you’re incredibly, you know that? thank you.” you smiled bashfully as she straightened back up, mouthing, love ya. meant so casually, but it never was going to be, was it?

then there was attending the basketball celebration the next day after one of the team’s games, which was originally not on your to-do list. but there wasn’t much that katie couldn’t convince you to do. it was annoying how convincing she was, how passionate she could become when it came to the support of the other american athlete— especially when she knows you know much more about the sport than her and she’d be asking you questions every other possession. she would tap your leg to peel your attention away from a play and it’s like your skin was on fire from wherever she touched, deep down just wishing her contact with you would last longer, every brush of your shoulders heightening your awareness to just how close she was, and yet so far.

you stood about the various athletes, having spoken with suni lee and anthony edward’s together (what an odd duo for you to talk with, something you hadn’t imagined for yourself). because what on earth did you have in common with either of them besides the olympics? you blinked away the spots from your eyes after the bright camera flash took the picture of you three. thank god you had a drink in hand, providing you a boost and giving you social buzz because you weren’t sure how you were going to survive the night. a whole collaboration of popular athletes with so many cameras to capture every moment.

“hey,” you heard the familiar voice of katie as she appeared beside you, having vanished a while back to talk to kevin durant and a few others. “how you holding up?”

she was wearing one of the white polos ralph lauren had given team usa and man, did it look good on her. she had some of her hair tucked behind her ear, really accenting the slight curve of her bangs on the other side of her face.

the slight crease of her brow made you realize you were staring and you hastily cleared your throat, “honestly i’d say racing for a medal is easier than this.”

she closed her eyes as she laughed, the giggle sounding as smooth as honey, her head falling forward slightly. “yeah, i can agree with you there. i mean, i just talked to steph curry. like, how is that even real life right now?”

you snort. “please, says the one who’s been competing in the olympics since she was fifteen,” you tease her, watching her over the rim of your cup as you took a sip, not really pacing yourself since swimming events were done.

“that is not the same and you know it.” her embarrassed flush of her cheeks made you chuckle as she pointed an accusing finger at you in a playful manner. she gestured to the people around you, “everyone here? they are all famous stars.”

“come on,” you clicked your tongue at that. you knew she was humble and you admired and loved that about her, but sometimes it was so tiring the way she thought she didn’t match up with all the others. “don’t sell yourself short. people know the name katie ledecky.”

katie shrugged as if she was unconvinced. “if they know my name then they know yours too.”

you scoff because in your head that sounds just so ridiculous. “don’t try and flatter me, ledecky. there are twenty times more articles written about you and all the records you’ve broken, the medals you’ve won, races you’ve done. i mean, do you even know how many of these people here know exactly who you are?”

your hand motioning to the other athletes makes her look around a bit and you’re eyes lock onto her because to you, all these other olympians don’t even come close.

“you’re a generational talent, a fucking national sensation.” at this point you don’t even know what you’re saying, the words are just coming out of you. her gaze meets your own and you swear you can drown in them, the softest pair of hazel eyes you’d ever come to know. “you make the most boring race in swimming fun to watch because you’re you. you’re katie ledecky. everyone loves you because of the type of athlete and person you are, and i don’t blame them because i do too. okay? and i need you to understand all that. i need you to see just how incredible everybody else knows you are.”

“i didn’t know you thought of me like that.” katie looked at you sweetly, her smile showing just how

“of course i do,” you sighed. because i’m in love with you— “because you’re one of my best friends. i could’ve gone on and on yesterday during press when it comes to you.”

you watched her face soften at your words, probably thinking how kind they were. but they meant so much more— an inch away from more than just friends. and what were you supposed to do about that?

she tilted her head at you and flashed you a bright smile, the one you adored so much because it brought so much light to your life every time. “thank you. thank you for saying that, seriously. it means a lot to me.”

“well you mean a lot to me.” you wished you could tell her just how much she really did.

“i know.” she nodded, making you notice the way her bangs shifted with every movement. “you mean a lot to me too. i’m glad you’re here. i’m glad you chose to return for another olympics, i bet it wouldn’t be the same without you right about now.”

“duh. i knew i had to if you were coming back.” you nudged her arm— and damn was it muscular?

you wished you could keep her hand there, and dangerously your mind was wishing you could feel more of her muscles, trace them to destinations you shouldn’t be thinking about, places your thoughts shouldn’t be taking you. her frame was already so intimidating as it is, her wide shoulders so distracting, her height making you always tilt your head slightly to look up at her.

“well i hope i have you as my roommate if we’re a part of LA28,” she smiled kindly, nudging your shoulder with her own.

you chuckled nervously and swallowed hard. you had so much to tell her but how?

“katie..”

i realize this is a bit of a cliffhanger !! so don’t worry, you’ll get more katie fics soon ;)

[neuvistar]

i present to uu… a kim dokja mini thirst cuz i need him so bad! ++ think of this as a filler, cuz i feel the need to write something after all the requests drowning in my drafts soooyes! i don’t like keeping u all waiting so here’s a lil filler <3

for warnings ! suggestive, dokja x afab reader but i didn’t rlly specify their gender, this is so messy n all over the place i’m sorry this isn’t the best, uhmmm dokja being such a sweetheart mhm mhm mhm, vaginal sex, kim dokja is good w his fingers foreals, some use of nicknames overall suggestive content !! | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“can i give you a kiss..?” was all dokja asked. you could’ve sworn you heard a quiet “please?” afterwards, but maybe that was just your mind playing tricks on you. dokja felt his face get warmer and warmer by the second, his heart racing as he could almost feel it pounding through his chest with how close his body was to yours. swallowing a lump in his throat, his thumb drew small circles on the flesh of your hips, eyes filled with desperation and plain lust. for you.

“mm.. of course you can, pretty”

he didn’t expect you to agree so easily. your response made his face flush even farther, dokja’s pupils dilated as he leaned in.. his arm on your waist. he pressed his lips against your own, kissing you deeply yet so passionately. how can someone’s kiss be so dirty but so gentle? his eyes fluttered shut as he held it in for as long as he could.. allowing his body to do all the talking before gently placing his hand the back of your neck to keep you still on his lap, oh yeah.. you’re not going anywhere anytime soon. dokja’s kisses were absolutely deadly, that’s why you loved them. he always took his sweet time with you, holding you ever-so gently as if you were a feather. kim dokja couldn’t keep his hands off of you either as his fingers travelling underneath your shirt, pinching your sensitive nipples.

“mmf!— s’pretty dokja..”

he planted chaste kisses against the base of your neck, watching your body jolt at the sudden contact as he chuckled against your skin. “you’re prettier.” he murmured in your ear. “you’re really pretty.”

“all for you.”

you began to grind your wet heat against his thighs, licking your lips. fuck, he wanted you so bad. and you grinding and pressing your pretty pussy against his thighs wasn’t helping. not at all. dokja bucked his hips against yours, you knew dokja.. he wasn’t just gonna turn down your desires. his lips latched onto yours again. “y—you’re too pretty babe, it’s almost hard to resist you.” he admitted, pressing soft kiss on your cheek before gesturing you keep going, rubbing yourself against his thigh at a quicker pace. dokja’s fingers shook as he struggled to hold hold himself back, trying his absolute hardest to fight his urges.. his urges to pick you up and bend you over over the table and fuck you like it was his last day on earth. he can’t do that, no. not yet. dokja pulls your shorts and panties aside, not waiting any longer as he sinks his slender fingers inside your drooling cunt, thrusting them into the sweetest spots of your walls. he curled his fingers inside you, you came almost immediately on his digits because of how well he was hitting your areas, pumping them slightly faster now. the lewd sounds of squelching was all that could be heard, mixing in with the whimpers and whines that left your pretty lips.

“dokja..” your boyfriend pressed his thumb against your clit, body shuddering as you moaned his name, tightening your grip on his clothes. you could tell dokja was slowly losing control of himself, fingers tugging at your nipples roughly. he began hastily undoing his belt, easing the discomfort of his erected cock as he aligned himself with your entrance, bucking his hips against yours almost immediately. your mouth hung open, throwing your head back at how full you already felt, yet he hasn’t even fit half of his length inside! “dokja!”

he felt so so good, you felt so full.. his cock sliding in and out of you so easily like that.. he knew just how well he could fuck you, he knew no one else could fuck you like he could. he knew that so so well. he grew more desperate for you, savouring the feeling of you clenching and pulsing around his dick every single time he hit a good spot. your body squirmed under his touch, eyes rolled to the back of your head at how harsh his thrusts were, your juices painting his dick with a creamy halo of white. “please.. please ah—“ he whined, lifting your waist. dokja held you in place, his thrusts grew harsher as he practically slammed himself inside your cunt. your moans gradually got louder, almost too loud.

a hand slapped over your mouth instinctively, mewling loudly as your fingers gripped harder at the softness of his coat, “f—fuck.. i think I'm stretching you out quite the bit right at this angle, h-hm?” he couldn’t stop his thrusts no matter how hard he tried, dokja shuddered as your soft lips touched him. your kisses felt like fire spreading across his skin. it felt heavenly to him, he couldn’t get enough of you. “you feel so good,” *he whispered between kisses, “more.. more please. i need more of you, i-i—“

in a blink of an eye, your back was pressed against the wall.. dokja’s arms hooked under your knees as he held you up, slowly setting you down on his cock, rubbing against your wet slit from time to time. “give me more.. please. ‘want you so bad already.. let me— fuck.. i wanna feel you even more.. please!”

special tag 4 my bff @yanqingisim

[sazwritesstuff]

Late at Night (in the light of the tv screen) | Logan x afab!reader

Logan comes home early after being away on a mission. You're sleepy, maybe a little grumpy for being disturbed, but that doesn't stop you for welcoming him home safe. Pairing: Logan x fem!reader | Fandom: X-Men | Word Count: 2k | posted on AO3 here A/N: this started off as a cute short drabble and then it turned into smut (this is the first time I've written smut btw, sorry if it's bad) | minors do not interact! TW: sexual content/sexual references, swearing, unprotected sex, penis in vagina sex

You had gone to bed hours ago, lying in bed all alone with Logan off on a mission. It wasn’t the first time that he had been gone for a few days but it never got any easier. The man was meant to return late the next day, most likely getting back by late afternoon or early evening if it had all gone according to plan.

You were always a little worried when Logan went on a mission. At least this time he had left as part of a team. Sure, you still worried about him but it put your mind just a tiny bit more at ease knowing that he wasn’t alone. But it hadn’t stopped you from being up for far longer than usual, tossing and turning with thoughts of all the things that could go wrong.

Anxious images of Logan bruised, bloody, with broken bones kept swimming around your mind.

No matter how many times he came back in one piece you couldn’t help but worry.

It never got any easier.

Trying to quieten the anxious thoughts in your mind you had put the TV on low, your bedroom dark except for the colour leaking from the screen. Providing a constant buzz that helped stop your racing thoughts for just long enough that you could actually sleep.

You weren’t sure if you’d been asleep for minutes or hours when your bed suddenly sank to one side startling you awake. Eyes flying open. Your body sliding towards Logan’s warm body where the mattress dipped. Stopping when your side bumped against his.

“Thought you weren’t getting back until tomorrow.” You grumbled, snuggling your head into Logan’s shoulder. Sleep still clinging to your mind.

He chuckled, his arms slipping around you cradling your body to his “Was meant to.” he mumbled into your hair.

You hummed, feeling yourself beginning to fall back to sleep again. Your body relaxing finally.

That was until you felt Logan shift again besides you, moving you so that you were now lying on your back as he placed his head on your tummy. All the air flew out of your lungs in an instant. Your eyes flying open once more “Logan!” you hissed giving his hair a tug with your hand.

The man was heavy. You could’ve sworn that Logan’s big metal skull was getting heavier by the second!

“What?” he mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to a slither of skin peeking out from your t-shirt. Ignoring you struggling under his weight.

Wheezing you let out a “Get off!” giving his head a quick smack.

With a huff, Logan slipped his arms around you and rolled so you were now lying on top of him again. “There. Now, go to sleep, y/n.”

“I was about to until your heavy dumbass head nearly killed me.”

“I can think of a different kind of head that’ll make you choke, baby.”

“You’re such a pig!”

He hummed, placing a light kiss on the top of your head “But you love me anyway.”

“Yeah, when you’re not trying to kill.” You grumbled. Snuggling deeper into Logan’s embrace.

He let out a bark of laughter, jostling you as he told you to “Go to sleep baby.”

“I was until you woke me up.”

“I can leave if you want-” he said beginning to raise from the bed.

“Don’t you dare!” you say sitting up, your voice softening as you let out “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Hmm. I’ve been thinking about you all day too.”

Making a split-second decision you let out “Fuck it. Take off your clothes.” Quickly pulling your t-shirt up over your head.

“I thought you wanted to go to sleep?” Logan said smirking up at you. His eyes quickly flicking down to your exposed chest before going back to your face.

Throwing a leg over Logan’s hips, you settle yourself onto his lap. You leant down, whispering against his lips “I changed my mind.” Pressing your lips to his in a demanding kiss. Searching. Yearning. Filled with pent up desire and frustration.

Lips wild and hungry. Both of you fighting for dominance. Logan’s tongue invading your mouth. One of his hands tanging in your hair as the other dug into the back of your thigh. Pulling you closer.

You could feel his hard length beneath you. Pressing into you.

Tugging at Logan’s tank top, you broke the kiss, pulling it over his head. His lips moving to kiss down your neck as you dropped the fabric to the floor. Leaving open wet kisses on your skin. He kissed and licked a path towards your breasts. Taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking, nipping, licking at the soft bud making the soft flesh hard and taunt under his ministrations. With his free hand Logan pulled at your other nipple between his fingers, ripping a moan from your throat.

“Logan.” You mewled, your nails digging into Logan’s shoulders.

“Tell me what you need baby.” He said looking up at you, flicking your nipple with his tongue before moving across to the other nipping at the bud with his teeth. Sucking, nipping, licking. Suck. Nip. Lick. Again and again. Building up a steady rhythm with his tongue.

“You.” You panted. Hips rolling against Logan’s hardness, your shorts and his boxers the only barrier separating the two of you “Please. I need you inside of me.”

He hummed, ignoring your demand, concentrating on your breast. Keeping up the pattern he’d created against your skin.

“Logan.” You whined rolling your hips on top of him. Causing a groan to escape Logan’s lips.

“Patience, baby.” Logan wrapped his arms around your body and rolled you onto your back. Leaning down he connected his lips to yours. Pulling your shorts to the side he quickly slipped a finger between your wet folds, gathering the wetness from your entrance and beginning to rub soft, slow circles on your clit.

Reaching one hand down you began stroking Logan over his boxers, feeling the hard, hot length of him under your palm, making him moan above you.

“Not yet, darling,” he grabbed your hand pulling it away “I want to watch you come on my fingers first.”

“But Logan-” you began to whine, stopped by the demanding kiss Logan placed on your lips.

“Be a good girl and come on my fingers, then you can have my cock baby.” Moving his finger over your clit just how you liked it, increasing the pressure just a little more and making you squirm. Rolling your hips to meet his hand, he smirked and asked “Does that feel good, baby?”

You nodded biting your bottom lip. Your eyes drifting shut as pleasure coursed through your body.

“Hmm. Keep your eyes on me, can you do that for me?” his voice coming out huskier, betraying just how affected he was.

“Feels- So good” you breathed, your voice breaking, hooded eyes latching onto Logan’s above you. “Please.”

“Please what?” you tried to chase his fingers, grinding your cunt even more on to Logan’s hand.

“Logan. Please. Please. More. You make me-” you gasped as you felt Logan shift above and insert two fingers inside “feel so good!”

“Fuck.” He breathed “You’re gripping my fingers so tight for me, darling.”

“Logan, I’m gonna, fuck-” you dug your nails into his shoulders “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me. Come on, baby, that’s it. Cum all over my fingers.” At Logan’s encouragement you came with a shout, chanting his name as you threw you head back in ecstasy. Logan’s fingers didn’t stop until you reached down and pushed his hand away as you began to feel overstimulated. Your body still shaking from your orgasm.

Logan brought his fingers up to his mouth, moaning as he sucked them clean. “You taste so good.”

You giggled, threading your hands through his hair and pulling him down for a kiss. Tasting yourself on his lips.

You felt Logan trail a hand down your body reaching down to pull your shorts past your hips and down your legs. Lifting you hips to help him slide the clothing off, kicking the offending fabric off of your foot.

From his head you racked your fingernails down his back, one of your hands going to the waist band of his boxers slipping them down his thighs. Freeing Logan’s cock from the confining fabric.

You felt Logan rub the head of his cock along your folds. Collecting the wetness there before placing it at your entrance and slowly sinking inside of you.

You moaned. Shifting beneath him, raising your hips to meet his. No matter how many times the two of you had sex you never got used to the thickness of his cock stretching you.

“Fuck, baby, you’re gripping me so good. So tight. So fucking good.” He pulled out, leaving just the tip inside, before thrusting forwards inching further inside of you. “Perfect fucking pussy.” Setting a slow, languid pace Logan thrust deeper and deeper inside of you.

Pressing kisses against his collarbones you ran your nails up and down his back. Leaving red scratches on his skin that vanished as quickly as they appeared.  

Gripping your legs Logan moved them up over his shoulders, pressing you deeper into the mattress, hitting a new deeper angle inside of you. His thrusts picking up pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room creating a symphony as you both moaned and panted.

You could feel yourself clenching around Logan’s cock. Tighter and tighter. Closer and closer. Your second orgasm so close.

Leaving one hand on his back, nails digging into his skin, you reached down and began rubbing your clit. Gasping as you sloppily tried to meet Logan’s thrusts with your own.

“Fuck,” Logan breathed feeling you tighten even more around his cock as he looked down at where you were joined, his cock thrusting in and out “Good girl. Rub that clit, baby. Rub your clit for me. Want you to cum on my cock.” Thrusting deeper and harder into you, hips slapping together.

“Such a good girl. Rubbing your clit as I fuck that pretty, little pussy. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you baby? You want to come on my cock?” you nodded, words escaping you, “Then cum. Cum for me pretty girl. Cum on my cock.”

The knot in your belly tightening, tightening, tightening… and then it snapped. Eyes rolling into your head. Body pulled taut. Scratching at Logan’s back. Fingers still rubbing your clit. Faster and faster.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groaned above you. Pounding into you.

The grip of your cunt on Logan’s cock sending him over the edge. Logan’s thrust turning short and a little sloppy. Groaning your name as you felt his hot, thick cum flooding your insides.

Stopping after a few more thrusts before holding himself inside of you. Your body shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

The two of you panting. Sweating and out of breath, Logan leant his forehead against yours. Keeping most of his weight off of you, his arms braced on either side of your head, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Such a good girl for me.”

Looking up at Logan, the light of the TV screen illuminating his features, you smiled. Sleepy, happy, content. The two of you out of breath and sweaty. Your body felt like a limp noodle.

Whining as Logan shifted, pulling his cock out of your slit, moving to get off the bed.

You watched him as he moved off the bed. Your eyes straying to his naked backside as he left the room.

Seconds later you heard running water in the bathroom before Logan padded back inside your bedroom with a wet washcloth in hand. Kneeling on the bed beside you he quick wiped up the mess he’d made before throwing the cloth into the wash basket by the door and lying back down next to you. Curling his arms around you and pulling your body to his.

Pressing a kiss to the top of your crown he mumbled into your hair “Goodnight, love.”

“Night, Lo.”

[stephstars08]

You Broke Me First

Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: ALL ANGST, Fighting, Alcohol Mentioned, Anxiety, Bar Fight, Mention of Sex, Cheating, Break Up, Adult Language, Jason Being Arrested, Mention of Weapons, Mention of Jason’s Dark Past, and Possible Grammar Errors. (Sorry if I forgot any!!!)

Summary: Y/N and Jason had been together for two years and everything was going good till Jason does the unthinkable that broke Y/N’s heart.

Inspired Song: You Broke Me First By Tate McRae

Word Count: 1,737

Author’s Note: Sorry that this was short. When I was writing this I thought it was going to be longer but I guess not. Also I definitely suggest you listen to the song before reading this since the plot his based off the song!

Y/N and Jason were that couple that everyone thought was going to last. But it didn’t due to one stupid and drunken night. Y/N is Barbara’s roommate and met Jason through Barbara since they have known each other for years.

At first Y/N just thought that Barbara knew Jason through her boyfriend Dick since Jason is his little brother but that changed when Y/N found out that Barbara is Gotham City’s Batgirl. After Jason and Dick gave Barbara permission to tell Y/N about them being Red Hood and Nightwing, Barbara told Y/N everything. She told her how Dick was the first Robin and then Jason became Robin after Dick became Nightwing. Barbara told her how she got shot by the Joker and was in a wheel chair for years till she was finally able to get surgery that would allow her to be able to walk again. Jason was a little nervous about Barbara telling Y/N about his history with the Joker but Y/N was fine with it. She didn’t view him as a dead man walking.

She still saw him as her loving and protective boyfriend. Well that was till Jason shattered her heart.

A big reason why everyone thought Y/N was the one for Jason was because they had been together for two years which is the longest and first real relationship that Jason had ever been in.

Everything went well till Jason did the worst thing her could’ve ever done.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N was driving to Jason’s apartment on a Saturday morning after an anxious Friday night. Y/N and Jason were at her apartment when they got in a big and bad fight that made Jason storm out of the apartment. That had been the first fight between them. It all happened so fast that Y/N doesn’t even remember what the fight was even about. She kept trying to call him but no answer so she decided to just go to bed and talk to him the next day.

Y/N found a parking spot by Jason’s apartment building so she parked her car and turned the vehicle off. She grabbed her keys and put them in her coat pocket. After opening the driver seat door she pressed the button on the door to lock the car and got out. She shut the door and made her way inside the building. Y/N walked up the steps to the third floor.

When she got to Jason’s door she could feel her heart racing so she took a deep and calming breath and knocked on the door. Every second that passed she could feel her nerves pacing. As almost two minutes passed Jason hadn’t answered the door. She could’ve sworn that she saw his motorcycle parked outside. Before Y/N could knock on the door again the door opened to reveal not Jason but a girl with short bleach blonde hair.

Y/N just froze in her spot. She looked the girl up and down. The outfit the unknown girl was wearing was pretty revealing. She had on a tight crop top that showed her cleavage and her belly with an even tighter mini skirt that showed off her long legs. Her hair was a little messy. It looked liked she had just woken up.

“Y/N.” She heard Jason say appearing behind the unknown girl. Jason moved the girl to the side and took Y/N’s hand pulling her inside his apartment. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” Jason told her letting go of her hand. He escorted the unknown girl out of his apartment and out the building. As Y/N waited for him she just stayed standing as so many thoughts ran through her head. When that girl opened the door she felt like someone just stabbed her in her heart.

When Jason walked back into the apartment he saw the hurt look in Y/N’s eyes. “Well, now I know why you didn’t answer your phone.” Y/N said in a hurtful tone. Jason let out a sigh as he closed his door. Before Jason could say anything Y/N spoke again. “Who is she?” Y/N asked him. “What?” Jason asked which immediately set her off. “Did I fucking stutter?” Y/N hissed. “Who the fuck is she?” Y/N asked again in a snappy tone. The hurt she was feeling quickly melted away and turned into anger. “She’s a girl I met at the bar I went to last night.” Jason told her. “But Y/N I was completely shit faced.” Jason added which made Y/N let out a scoff. “I don’t give a shit what you were! You had sex with another woman!” Y/N told him as hot tears started to fill her eyes. “I know it was fucking stupid but I promise it didn’t mean anything.” Jason told her as he watched the girl he loves heart break right in front of him.

He went to go touch her but she backed away from him. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Y/N hissed at him. “Y/N, please.” Jason pleaded as tear started to flood his blue eyes. Y/N shook her head as she used the back of her hand to wipe away some of her tears.

“We’re fucking done.” Y/N snapped and walked passed him and out of the apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it’s been a couple weeks since Y/N broke up with Jason. He’s been trying to get in touch with her but she’s been ignoring him. She got a call in early morning hours from an unknown number so she answered it and it was Jason.

He needed her to use his money from his bank account to bail him out of jail. He had to call her since she’s the only one that knows his bank information. After he told her how much the bond was she hung up. Y/N got out of her bed and quietly left the apartment so she didn’t wake Barbara up.

Y/N went to a twenty four hour ATM and then went to the jail to bail Jason out. As Y/N drove him back to his apartment he told her what had happened that got him arrested. He got into a bar fight and the reason why he was in jail for hours was because they wanted him to sober up since when they arrested him he was wasted. Y/N just nodded her head. Right after she dropped him off at his apartment she drove back to her apartment and went right back to sleep.

Y/N woke up a little after eleven AM. When she walked into the living room she saw Barbara sitting on the couch watching the TV. “Hey sleepy head.” Barbara said as Y/N sat down on the couch next to her. Barbara could sense something was wrong. “What’s wrong?” Barbara asked her with concern in her voice. “I had to bail Jason out of jail at two in the morning.” Y/N told her with a tired sigh. “That’s not surprising.” Barbara said with a sigh as well. “Dick has been telling me that he’s been going through hell because of the break up.” Barbara added. “He did look so broken.” Y/N said as she stared out at the television. “And that’s not your fault.” Barbara told her which made her look away from the tv and at her.

“Jason did that to himself. He’s the one that is making him go through all this pain.” Barbara told her. “Yes, when Jason was with he was the happiest he’s ever been but he’s the one that fucked it up. You didn’t do it, he did it.” Barbara told her in a stern tone. She doesn’t want Y/N to feel guilty for what Jason is going through.

“He broke you first.” Barbara added. Y/N gave her a nod. She knew that everything Barbara had just told her was one hundred percent true.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was now night time and Y/N was at the apartment by herself since Barbara is out doing her patrol as Batgirl. Y/N was laying on the couch watching a movie on the TV. It was a little after eight o’ clock and Y/N was still exhausted. But before she could decide to head into bed their was a knock on the door. She got up and walked over to the door. When she opened the door she saw Jason standing there.

“Hey.” Jason said in a soft tone. “What are you doing here?” Y/N asked him in a stern tone. “I wanted to thank you for bailing me out.” Jason told her. “And?” Y/N asked as she folded her arms over her chest knowing that their was more. “I also wanted to talk to you.” Jason told her which made her roll her eyes. “There is nothing to fucking talk about.” Y/N told him still using a stern tone.

She went to slam the door in his face but Jason stopped the door from closing and walked into the apartment. “Y/N, I’ve been a fucking wreck without you.” Jason told her. “And that’s not my problem!” Y/N told him turning back around to face him since after she went to close the door she started to walk back over to the couch.

“Jason, I still love you but I can’t forgive you for what you did.” Y/N told him. “And like I told you it’s the worst fucking thing I have ever done.” Jason said looking at her with a pleading look in his blue eyes. “Trust me I know that but you saying that isn’t going to fix it. It isn’t going to erase it.” Y/N told him with frustration in her voice.

“Maybe one day we can be friends but that’s it. You broke my trust and I just can’t give you another chance. I can’t force myself to do that.” Y/N told him. She was trying her best not to cry but she knew she was failing since she could feel the tears forming in her eyes. Jason was already shedding tears.

“You broke me first.” Y/N told him remembering what Barbara told her this morning. Jason gave her a nod knowing that she was right. “Yeah, I did.” Jason said. He turned around and walked out of the apartment.

He knew at that moment it was really over. There was nothing else he can say. Y/N took a deep breath to clam herself down. She wiped away her tears and walked over the door and shut it.

[jjkamochoso]

Feel the Rain on Your Skin

Fluff

Feitan Portor x f!reader

Feitan shares his umbrella—and sweet sentiments—with you!

Warnings: mentions of death; a bit macabre but more along gothic vibes

You heard the steady drip of rainfall pound against the roof, your stomach churning with excitement. Gloomy days held a special place in your heart and you couldn’t pass up the perfect opportunity to submit yourself to the storm brewing outdoors. You hastily shoved on your boots, foregoing a jacket so you didn’t waste time as you raced outside. The Phantom Troupe had taken up residence in an old abandoned house for the time being and it was by far your favorite place you’ve ever stayed at; having your own room was a luxury you dreaded giving up when you eventually had to move. Your favorite part of the house, though, wasn’t even inside. It was the sprawling backyard, with its towering, gnarled trees, luscious grass, and quiet cemetery holding the tombstones of the previous owners and their family members, that made this place so special. The wet atmosphere assaulted all of your senses in an instant and you couldn’t have been happier. You spun around, throwing your head back in delight as heavy droplets made contact with your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. You made your way to the cemetery after you got your energy out, wanting to enjoy the rest of the rain in a calmer fashion. It was peaceful out there, no doubt about it. There was no one for miles and you relished in the silence as you sank down, the cool tombstone slick underneath you. You admired the gray clouds overhead, behemoths in the sky, until you couldn’t stand the rain hitting your eyes anymore. You quickly closed them and sighed, content in your own serenity. It felt pleasant having the rain soak your hair, face, and clothes; it made you feel alive (ironic as you were sitting among the dead). More rain kept pelting down on you.

Until all of a sudden, it didn’t.

You frowned, your eyes still shut. Did it stop raining? Your eyelids fluttered open and you were met with the sight of your fellow Troupe member Feitan—

And his arm holding his umbrella over you.

“You going to get sick out here,” he said from behind his cowl. “You want to join them?”

He gestured to the graves scattered around you, trembling lightly. It was then you registered just how freezing you were, starting to shiver.

“No. But do you want to join me for a little bit longer?”

You gave him a hopeful smile, your teeth chattering. Gray eyes, the same color as the clouds above, rolled at you but he took a seat next to you anyway, still holding up the umbrella. You knew he wasn’t big on physical touch but the warmth you were getting from his closeness was so addicting that you couldn’t help yourself, leaning into him more than necessary. You waited to hear a scoff or any sign of disgust, but it never came. In fact, you could’ve sworn that he nuzzled into your side further. You sat in silence for a long time, neither of you wanting to interrupt the moment you were sharing, even if you should’ve gone inside many minutes ago. The pitter patter of the rain landing on the umbrella over you was almost trance-like, lulling you into a state of deep relaxation that you had never experienced before.

“It… nice here.”

Feitan, surprisingly, broke the quiet between you first.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “Machi did a great job finding us this place. I wanna stay here for the rest of my life.”

“I mean out here,” he said, looking off into the distance, “with you. It…”

He stopped, trying to find the right word. He spoke out a few phrases in his native tongue, shocking for you a second time in such a short span since he rarely graced you with the chance at hearing it. He always sounded so confident in his first language and you wished that someday you could learn a few words and make him feel less alone.

“It calm,” he finally said, before turning to look at you. “It beautiful.”

Any sense of chill within your bones was immediately extinguished by the burning love flowing through your body for the raven haired man next to you.

You gazed upon him, adoration and sincerity oozing from your irises.

“It truly is,” you whispered, your soft voice competing against the earthly elements raging around you but Feitan heard you loud and clear. He was grateful for the cowl that was hiding the bright red blush on his pale cheeks, opting to focus his attention on the grass as he picked at the long blades with his unoccupied hand. After another several minutes, you stretched out your legs and began standing up. Feitan did the same, moving quick enough to where you didn’t have a millisecond without the umbrella hovering over you.

✨IF YOU’RE OVER LIKE 5’5/1.67 METERS✨:

“I can hold the umbrella so you don’t have to be on your tiptoes,” you told Feitan as you stood, not wanting him to be uncomfortable.

“Tch. Can I trust you no shoot it?” he teased, quirking an eyebrow at you. “We already have dinner. No need for dead birds.”

“Ha ha, very funny. I know what button to not push. I pay attention.”

He relented, holding out the handle for you to grasp.

✨IF YOU’RE UNDER 5’5/1.67 METERS✨:

Feitan still holds the umbrella for you😚

✨BACK TO THE STORY FOR EVERYONE✨:

Before heading back inside, you looked down at the grave you were sitting on. The inscription mentioned the name of a woman who lived there over a hundred years ago, making you gasp slightly.

“That’s amazing that she gets to stay here for good,” you murmured. Feitan glanced down at his own temporary seat, reading the name of a man who also lived there at the same time as the woman. You two had just noticed that the graves were right next to each other, stones practically touching. The pair were married!

“They died on the same day,” you observed.

“Broken hearts,” he said plainly.

“Oh? You’re a romantic, I take it?”

He didn’t say anything but rolled his eyes in exasperation, making you giggle.

“I think it’s sweet to have someone follow you into death like that. That’s true love in my eyes.”

You fell into another comfortable silence, the only sound being the rustling of branches as the wind blew through the leaves.

“Feitan?” you finally said.

He didn’t reply but turned to you, giving his full attention once more and the intensity of his stare made your heart flutter again.

“Thanks. For being out here with me.”

He blinked at you slowly before finally replying. “Of course. I go where you go. Always. Forever.”

“Even to the grave?” you asked sanguinely.

He nodded solemnly. “And in whatever lies beyond death. We together.”

[fandomlit]

and scene (sbi x reader)

summary you make the mistake of telling your friends that your sociology class is boring. they change that for a day.

warnings swearing, implications of suggestive themes, fighting (but playfully)

a/n aka i’ve been watching too much gilmore girls lately

gif cred belongs to @m-iyaeto​

in a lecture hall with two hundred students, it was easy to get bored. it was rare that the professor’s eye was tuned directly into one particular student, and even more rare that that student was you. sociology was an interesting topic, but not interesting enough to keep you from nearly sliding out of the small, cramped seat as you dozed off.

your attention was finally grabbed when the door slammed open. you sat up straight in your seat as a familiar blur stormed toward the row you sat at, demanding, “y/n l/n!”

of course, it only could’ve been wilbur soot.

the entire class stopped short to ogle at the tall man now staring down across four students to where you sat in your row. your professor didn’t seem to know what to say in that moment.

“where were you this morning?”

your heart was already racing from all the attention that had suddenly been turned on to you. you racked your brain but you would’ve sworn you had never made plans with wilbur for that morning, had he not been so quick to interrupt you.

“so what, it-it’s one night of hot, searing passion and then you’re gone?” he demanded, voice too loud and too clear throughout the suddenly too small lecture hall. you swore you had never felt so much heat fill your body; you had certainly not spent the night with your best friend.

“wil, wh-”

“oh, save your excuses for tonight!” he yelled out. giggles and murmurs were starting to reach your ears as you started to lift yourself out of your seat. “yeah, we’re still having dinner with my parents, by the way!”

before you could yell at him and protest, the door came crashing open for a second time. “y/n!”

it was technoblade, out of breath and gripping flowers. his vermillion gaze was locked on you and you felt like a deer suddenly in a big, bright headlight. 

“y/n, this can’t be the end for us,” technoblade spoke in his strong, powerful voice and suddenly you hated your friends so, so much. “not when i still feel this way for you.”

“you had your chance, brother!” wilbur yelled down to the longer-haired man.

your professor took this chance to speak up, “gentleman, i do not think this is the space for this dispute-”

technoblade cut him off without a thought, “you’re telling me you’re the better option out of the two of us?”

“i was the first!” wilbur started to descend down the steps again toward his brother. “she never told you about that night in the rain, did she?” that’s when technoblade threw him into a headlock and suddenly they were wrestling on the likely-disgusting carpet of the lecture hall. your classmates were cheering and laughing all around you, but you were absolutely mortified. just when you had buried your face in your hands, the door slammed open for a third time and a whistle blew in the room.

your jaw nearly hit the floor when you saw it was tommy, wearing a terribly cheap-looking policeman’s costume with the loud whistle between his lips. did they take him out of school for this?

“you two, break it up!” he yelled dramatically, tearing his brothers off of each other. “no crimes of passion in the university!” they finally broke apart in a fit of suppressed laughter and breathlessness. “see what you’ve done, y/n?” all eyes were on you again. tommy slung his arms over his brothers’ shoulders. “let this be a lesson to you all! never fall for the siren that is y/n l/n!” 

wilbur and tommy bowed as the class cheered and hollered. technoblade nodded at you and threw the bouquet of flowers. one of the guys in front of you caught it and offered it to you. you couldn’t help but let an embarrassed laugh slip as you took the arrangement into your hand. your smile made wilbur and tommy let out a loud cheer and technoblade clap before they scampered out of the class.

you threw your warm face into your hand again as the class’s excitement died down and your professor began, “well..” you heaved a loud sigh that made the girls next to you laugh again. “i think l/n here made friends with too many theater majors..” the class chuckled. “you did know those gents, correct?”

you nodded and gathered up what voice you could, “not as well as they implied, but..” the class broke into more laughter. “yes. they’re my best friends.”

“good, good,” the professor chuckled. “well class, let’s take this as an example of breaking societal norms.” you tuned the professor out again as you willed the embarrassed heat to leave your body, pressing a cool hand to your forehead.

you were going to get those damned boys back.

[eureka-its-zico]

Commitment Part 2

Summary: After finding out the truth about who Jungkook really is, your world - and everything you thought you knew - comes crashing down. Do you begin to give in to your new captive situation, or do you continue to fight? The choices no longer seem so easy when you feel betrayed by the one you love…

A/N: Let’s be real: I bet a lot of you never thought there would be a second part to this (its a far assumption). But I’ve decide to make this a small series, maybe two or three more parts. I hope that this chapter feels worth the wait, and I hope it makes you excited for things to come. As always, thank you for stopping by, for reading, and hopefully, enjoying my work. Much love, Jenn.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Genre: Mafia!Jungkook, Detective Reader, enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, mutual pining

Warnings: mentions of violence, sexual content (its smut, y’all), graphic violence, slight dom behavior, fingering, cunnalingus, almost p in v.

Previous

If it wasn’t for the searing pain that exploded behind your eyes you could’ve sworn - for a brief moment - that you were home. Safe at home in bed beside Jungkook, who was currently running his fingers softly through your hair. If he wasn’t peppering your jawline with kisses to wake you he was most definitely running his fingers through your hair. 

You’d come to expect it. Your body responded in kind by nuzzling up beside him and claiming his lips with your own. 

Morning breath be damned. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t take your body long to remind you that the bed you were lying in didn’t belong to you. The pain pulsating inside your skull wasn’t just a killer migraine. God - you wanted to believe it was a bad dream and that you’d open your eyes and find yourself nestled against Jungkook’s chest with fresh coffee waiting for you on your nightstand. 

The dried blood crusted somewhere in your hair and swollen lip reminded you that you weren’t that lucky. The only real thing you knew for sure was that Jungkook was in the room with you.

How did you know this? While you weren’t in your shared bed, sunlight drifting through the curtains to remind you it was time to start the day, you could feel fingers playing carefully through your hair. The pattern his fingers took, the way he gently moved through each strand to make sure his fingers didn’t catch it - pull it out of place - was something specifically Jungkook. 

Now, Jungkook was taking even more care not to hurt you. His fingers moved achingly, slowly, through your hair making sure to avoid the throbbing wound. 

You wanted to pull away from him. To open your eyes and scream at him while smashing your fists into his chests. You wanted answers - needed them to clear your conscience that what happened back at the station wasn’t your fault. 

You wanted to hear him say he wasn’t the devil and you weren’t the fool. 

But you couldn’t face him. Sure. You were filled with rage from being deceived, but had he really deceived you? Or had you simply deceived yourself? 

All the red flags were there that his story didn’t make sense. The odd hours. The mysterious phone calls that sent him racing for the door half-dressed with promises to return. When he did come back, he wouldn’t let you touch him - come close to him - until after he showered. He’d ask simple questions over morning coffee about cases that you weren’t sure you’d ever talked to him about. 

All the red flags were flown in your face, and you chose to overlook every single one for a handsome face and great dick. It wasn’t just that, was it? No. Somewhere along the line you both became too entangled; tethered to the same cord that strangled you both. 

Maybe that’s why when he cupped your cheek your body instantly turned into him. You hated him - loved him - were hopelessly devoted to him all at the same time. All those emotions would tear you to pieces as surely as your rage would. 

“Kitten - I know you’ve been awake for the last five minutes. Look at me.” 

“Oh, I’ll look at you, alright,” you snarled. 

You allowed all that anger - your brimming hatred - to burn in your gut. It gave you enough courage to do something either incredibly brave or plain stupid. You opened your eyes just enough to meet his gaze before your teeth sunk down into the soft flesh of his palm. 

In a split second, the love that blossomed in his eyes as you looked at him wilted and replaced itself with a lightening of rage. Jungkook tried to shake his hand loose from between your teeth but it caused you to bite down harder. Never once did he yell or sound out his pain. It should’ve warned you that this flame would burn you. 

You never were one to listen. 

Jungkook tried one last time to violently shake his hand free, and when it failed his hand smacked down across your face. The ringing in your ears was deafening and caused your vision to blur. Your jaw loosened enough for him to slip his hand free, and the taste of copper flowed like a river across your tongue. 

“Don’t ever call me ‘Kitten’ again,” you snapped, spitting blood onto the cold concrete floor.

“Anything else - Kitten.” 

The bastard was smirking. Gone was the unholy look of rage that could destroy whole cities and back was the coy softness you’d grown to expect from him. 

 “Yeah. Don’t fucking touch me either.” 

You expected him to snap. To bare teeth and tell you who you belonged to. Instead, all you got in return was that infamous smirk that spoke louder than words: he thought you were all talk. All venom that dripped from the pain of knowing you did belong to him. Even now with your body radiating with the urge to strike him you knew all it would take was one touch of his lips against yours and your fight would end. 

“We both know you don’t mean it.”

“Don’t I? You’re a liar, Jungkook. A fucking psychopath.”

A sigh left him as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The smirk now gone as he regarded you with raised brows and a look of indifference. His reaction telling you plainly that you were overreacting. 

“It’s a little late to try and act like a forensic psychologist, don’t you think?” 

“I’ve been to your crime scenes! I’ve seen the fucking carnage that you leave behind. Shit that would make Ed Gein look like a fucking Saint!” 

God. You wanted to keep it together and act as cold as he portrayed himself to be, but how could you? Jungkook had become eerily still. For the first time since you’d realized who he was you felt scared. 

“A psychopath you took to your bed. Who lived in your house, and cooked you dinners with the same hands that were held finger deep by your clenching pussy were also the same ones used to maim and murder. Tell me, Kitten, did it feel better being fucked by a psychopath than the straight and narrow pricks you allowed in your bed?”

You allowed the fear you felt to turn into stone cold dread as it dawned on you that they’d been watching you from the beginning. That he was mentioning your old partner, Christian, that you’d had a relationship with before it turned sour. Before he began to care more about having you sit at a desk job instead of being in the field chasing after bad guys. Bad guys like Jungkook. 

For all the dread that corroded your veins they were stoked to life with a rage so incredibly potent you could’ve sworn, for a moment, you went blind. 

“Get. Out.” When Jungkook showed no signs of moving you grabbed the only pillow off the cot bed and flung it as hard as you could. He dodged it easily. “Get the fuck out! I don’t want to see you ever again. You hear me? I hate you!” 

“No you don’t-“

“Don’t you tell me what I feel, Jungkook!”

“You wish you could hate me, Kitten, but you can’t.”

“Watch me. I’m going to get out of here and I’m putting your narcissistic, psychotic ass in prison for the rest of your unnatural fucking life. Afterwards, I’ll find someone to fuck to wash you completely out of my system! Marry them-”

When you first started your rant, Jungkook was smug. The cockiness of his belief that you couldn’t hate him - couldn’t move past him - kept his shoulders squared in confidence until his eyes met yours. Whatever he saw there - the raw determination - was enough to make that confident facade drop leaving only something much worse in its wake. Your bratty words meant to wound him only stoked a fire that threatened to burn entire cities.

He took a threatening step towards you as his hands dropped from inside his pockets. His fists clenching and unclenching in time with the ticking of his jaw. You wanted to put as much space between you two as possible, but you didn’t want to back down either. 

“I have never loved someone like I love you. Do you understand that? You are mine. And if you think I’m ever going to let you go, you got another thing coming, sweetheart. I am not letting you go.” Jungkook was standing in front of you now. His body dropped down just enough to meet you at eye level as he breathed one final promise across your lips, “Ever. I will burn down a thousand fucking cities looking for you, if I have too.” 

You braced yourself for a kiss that never came. Your pulse felt like at any moment it would burst from your neck. Jungkook noticed. He always did and that seemed to be enough for him, because he didn’t kiss you. He simply pushed back on his feet and turned towards the cell door. He called out and a man dressed in all black with an m16 strapped across his chest appeared. Jungkook shot you one last look as the guard opened the door, and allowed him to pass through just before he began to lock it again. 

Jungkook was still looking at you when he spoke to the henchman. “Don’t you fucking go in there with her. Don’t you let anyone in there unless it’s been cleared with me first.” 

“Sir, what about Namjoon-“

“I said cleared with me first. Got it?”

The man nodded his head too many times. Enough to make you wonder if he’d given himself whiplash before Jungkook spared you one last glance before disappearing back inside the depths of whatever fresh hell you’d put yourself in. 

When you continued to wake up still breathing on the cot, you were surprised. Okay. You were a whole lot of surprised. You half expected to be a lifeless corpse rising from a trash heap than to be found tucked inside bedsheets. It didn’t take you long to know why you weren’t dead yet nor was it a surprise 

It felt like you’d been awake for hours. Your eyes helplessly combed over every painted brick of the walls for any sign of weakness. Without an actual clock inside your makeshift prison there was plenty of room for error when it came to time frames. It could've simply been hours since you’d been in the cell. But because of the trauma you’d sustained to your head - the possible unseen damage - it could’ve been days. The thought alone causes your stomach to somersault violently into your throat. 

Since you woke up that first time and had your spat with Jungkook, he hadn’t returned to visit you. The guards at your cell, however, still followed his orders. Most of them wouldn’t even look at you. 

The headache you’d been nursing with the palm of your hand since you woke up continued to be a nagging friend. It’s persistent poking and prodding against your temple caused your vision to shift into doubles at the worst times. Mostly, those worst times accumulated down to when you were pacing in your cell. The game plan you’d come up with kept constantly changing -forming- and retaking shape. 

When you first awoke in the dank cell, you were quick to notice you were lying on a cot. It’s placement in one of the corners of the room's brick walls made it easy for you to determine the only thing inside it was you and the cot. The exposed lightbulb above the room swaying at odd times. As if the ground above shook with the same rage you felt building in your chest. 

There weren’t any windows, and instead of metal bars there was just a door. It’s rusted exterior letting you know wherever you’d been taken too was very old. No windows and no open metal framework told you simply that yelling for help was out of the question. You weren’t surprised: you’d been reading their files for years. If they didn’t keep you closed off from the rest of civilization, you’d have questioned the whole thing. 

You started feeling the grooves in between the bricks. Every single one painted over in gunmetal grey to make the cell appear darker. Whatever light the flickering bulb above gave off was consumed and tinted by lighted shadow. 

It took everything you had to concentrate on feeling out the grooves for possible signs that the bricks were possibly lose. Or maybe even catch the slightest breeze - making its way through a large crack. You allowed yourself to hope. 

How stupid of you. 

With every inch and glide of your palms against the cool surface, you felt your heart beginning to sink. You were never getting out. The chances of you making it out on your own two legs and not a body bag was dwindling and your hysteria. Well, that was definitely beginning to spring to the surface. 

You’d just taken rapid steps back away from your latest attempt, the panic swelling up your chest was threatening to turn you feral. The only course of action you could think to do was to cause yourself pain. So, your hands flew up to grab at your head. The minute your finger scratched at the dull cut your vision exploded in pain - hissing past your lips with your eyes flinching at the thundering ache. The dried blood flaked down to your jacket, and you stared at the few flakes resting on your shoulder. 

The pain was bringing you out of your breakdown, but barely. You were running out of ideas - of options - when you heard the sound of a large deadbolt coming loose and right after a few larger bolts slid out of place. Your anxiety attack had placed you dead center in the middle of the room. 

The lightbulb’s glow painted you in a spotlight of sunburnt yellows - the blood on your hair and face made you feel like a wounded animal. Every click of a lock coming undone a time bomb to the Hunter coming in to finish the job. 

Your heart was back in your throat as you glanced around hopelessly for an object, anything to defend yourself, and came up short. With the last lock coming undone you decided you would wait for them to enter. Your muscles tensing up in your thighs as you prepared yourself to run at whoever it was. 

You prepared yourself as much as you could but when the door squeakily opened and Jungkook stepped through all your resolve faded. He was just standing there - like nothing happened - looking handsome as ever with a tray held with one hand. The entire night flashed before you. The deceit. The lies. The last conversation you had before he’d left the room. To see him standing there with that smug look on his face - the same one he gave you when he proved he was better at cooking, games, or sex irritated the shit out of you. 

All the dinners you cooked together in your shared kitchen. The trips you’d taken and the little notes you found inside your coat pockets or on the fridge and bathroom mirror. Was it all a lie? Was his smugness due to him winning the biggest game of all? 

The scream that you bottled up broke free as you charged towards him. You hated how unfazed he seemed - how amused. Jungkook wasn’t apologetic for tearing your world apart: for making you love him. If anything, he stood like a god before you. Gluttonous in his pride knowing you couldn’t do anything to him. 

You swung at him, realizing too late it was a wide swing. His hand came up in seconds to grab your swinging arm in mid-air. You were still moving forward with your momentum, unable to come to a stop, and Jungkook used it to twist your arm in his grip and bring you colliding into his chest. 

The tray of food and whatever else he’d carried was an afterthought as its content scattered all over the floor. You tried to wriggle out of his strong grip, but that only succeeded in making him hold on to you tighter. You could practically feel his muscles as they flexed under the shirt. 

“I told you, I didn’t want to see you again,” you seethed. 

“And I told you, Kitten, that I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Let me go, Jungkook. Let. Me. Go!” 

If you could’ve pounded on his big stupidity attractive chest you would have. Since you couldn’t, you settled for screaming in his face. You tried to take a step back, to try and gain some kind of leverage, when his free hand came up to grip the back of your head. He used that leverage to bring your face dangerously close to his. The wild look in his eyes made you grow incredibly still.

“I need you to get it through that thick skull of yours,” he used your name. Jungkook rarely ever used your name. “If you think for one second I am spending one second of my life without you, you are sadly mistaken.”

“You’re an idiot,” you gasped. You were not going to fucking cry right now. “Why would you want someone who doesn’t want you - who can’t stand the sight of you?” 

Jungkook dipped down and brushed the tip of his nose over yours. The gentle touch shocked you enough that you stopped moving; forgot to breathe.  

“When are you going to stop lying to yourself, Kitten? We were made for each other.”

You wanted to deny his statement. To remind him that he was not only a psychopath, but a delusional one at that, but was he the only delusional one in the room? Or was it you? 

You didn’t get a chance to dispute his claim. Using the hold he had on the back of your neck, Jungkook brought you the last couple inches closer and sealed his lips down on yours. 

The worst part about Jungkook kissing you was how your resistance completely crumbled. You knew he must have noticed it too - the way the fight slowly seeped out of your muscles. How easy it was for his tongue to spread your lips open to dive inside. The grip he’d held on your arm released, but Jungkook made sure he kept you secured to him. His hand on your neck pressing you painfully closer as the hand he’d removed from your wrist now dug its fingers into the soft flesh of your hips. 

You didn’t want him thinking that it was over for you; that he’d won. Your lust may have clouded your mind, but somewhere behind the cloud your common sense was screaming. Unfortunately, common sense was losing when his hand trailed up beneath your shirt to the swell of your breasts. Nimble fingers pulled down the cotton fabric of your bra to expose your nipples to him. 

Jungkook made quick work to take the bud between his thumb and index finger and applied the right amount of pressure. Just enough to make a moan gasp against his mouth right before he moved in to swallow the sound with another heated kiss. 

He pinched your nipple one last time sending a delicious shiver to shoot down your spine. Instantly, your pussy reacted to his touch. You knew if - when - he pulled down your pants Jungkook would find your underwear soaked. 

You weren’t sure what made you do it. Maybe you were annoyed by how easily he made you crumble at his touch. He was a monster. A killer. 

But he’s your monster. 

The thought made your blood run cold. The desire Jungkook had stoked inside you quickly disappeared as that thought haunted you. When you tried to pull away from his kiss, Jungkook’s grip on your neck refused to let you go. So, you did the only thing you could think of. 

You waited until his bottom lip pressed down into a pout to grab it with your teeth. You bit down hard enough for your tongue to be greeted with the taste of blood. A growl rumbled deep in chest; a sound he pressed with violent force against your lips. 

The kiss felt bruising as his hands dropped down to the back of your thighs. You were able to pull away from him enough to let out a small yelp of surprise when Jungkook’s hands grabbed your thighs and hoisted you up. Instantly, you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

His feet carried you over to the corner of the room. You expected to be thrown down on the cot. Your body tensed up as it waited for the coming drop, but it never came. Instead, Jungkook pushed you up against the cold stone of the wall with enough force it pushed a rush of air from your lungs. 

You were about to call out - the jolt of brief pain ready to escape from your mouth - when Jungkook crashed his lips back into yours. His hips rutted up into you. His cock hard and pressed into the fabric of his jeans. 

He controlled the movement with his hands on your hips. Half of your weight supported by the wall and his hips that he moved over your clothed sex. The friction of his clothed cock rubbed against your clit made you moan into the kiss. 

“You want to play rough, kitten,” he huffed against your lips. “I can play rough. I’ll be as rough as you want me to be.”

To prove his point, Jungkook traced his lips down to your neck. His tongue grazed from the hollow of your throat down towards your collarbone. When he reached your shoulder he sank his teeth down into the skin. You let out a small scream, your hands fisting into his hair, as you tried to tug him loose. 

Jungkook kept the pressure of his teeth firmly in their place and, using his hands on his hips, ground up into you. The jolt of pleasure that collided with the pain sent another moan spilling free from your lips. You were close to begging him to stop teasing - to give you what you wanted - but Jungkook seemed to know from the soft pleas that you hummed against his ear. 

Without warning, he peeled you from the wall and flung you both on top of the cot. Jungkook caught himself with his hands at the last second making sure he didn’t crush you against the mattress. You wouldn’t have cared. You couldn’t find time to care as he helped strip you of your jacket and shirt. Your own hands desperately trying to pull his shirt over his head so you could feel him bare and pressed against you. 

When your bra was removed and flung off your arms, Jungkook didn’t hesitate to take each breast in his hands. He dropped down and wrapped his mouth around a nipple. The feeling of his tongue flicking and swirling caused your body to arch into him. Your hands flew wildly to grab ahold of the strands of his hair - fingers curling and pulling as he took a nipple between his teeth. Jungkook made sure he took his time taking each nipple in his mouth; tongue swirling around the stiff peaks. 

You could feel his hand drift down your middle to the edge of your jeans. You didn’t try and fight him as his nimble fingers worked at the button of your jeans, and further down between the fabric and the lace of your underwear. 

When Jungkook’s fingers first felt between your folds - his fingers finding you soaked - he exhaled heavily.  His mouth made a loud pop as he disconnected from your breast with eyes hollowed with hunger meeting your own. 

“Fuck. You’re always so wet for me, Kitten,” he huffed. 

You weren’t sure how to answer him or if you even should. You hated him - wanted to believe you hated him - and everything he stood for. There was no denying, however, that you wanted him. It went beyond reason, because you couldn’t understand it. The only thing you did understand was when he pushed three fingers knuckle deep inside your aching pussy, your body turned molten with a need so deep that only Jungkook could sate. 

The lewd wet sounds of his fingers thrusting in and out of you filled the room. The only other sound to try and cover that was your soft moans that only grew louder when Jungkook stripped your pants and underwear down over your thighs, and off your legs and buried his tongue between your folds. 

His tongue traced up from your entrance, and took his time licking his way up to swirl at your clit before giving a large stroke. This time you did scream as his tongue fucked you; stroked and sucked every inch of you until your legs quivered around him forcing your words to become incoherent. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. The need to be filled with him became overwhelming and, using his hair to pull him violently up, you asked, “Jungkook-“ you breathlessly pleaded, “Fuck me. Please.”

He looked up at you from between your legs. His pupils were blown out completely with lust. There was a moment where you wondered if he’d even heard you. There was no recognition in his face that he had heard you until a growl brushed past his lips, and he nipped at the inner corner of your thigh. You let out a sound of surprise as you tried to move back, but Jungkook kept you securely in place. 

“Is that what you want?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want you, Jungkook.”

You thought he was going to ask more stupid questions. Couldn’t he see you were a fool for him? Couldn’t he see how much you needed him? At that moment, you were willing to beg him. You were ready to start doing exactly that when Jungkook suddenly moved up with his hands at his belt. His fingers were rapidly unbuttoning his jeans when a loud knock came at the door. 

Jungkook’s response was instant and animalistic. A snarl cut through the room that seemed to suspend time completely. The person behind the door no doubt shitting themselves for making a boldly stupid decision. 

“Whoever it is, you better have a good fucking reason for interrupting me,” he snapped. 

Again. Silence. You were willing to bet they’d run for safety, except you were wrong. 

“I’m sorry, boss, but Namjoon sent me down to find you. He needs you to come back to the lounge, and he requested you bring the prisoner with you.”

Jungkook had gone eerily still above you. The sexually charged air began to change as the lust that had been in his eyes was replaced by something darker; more dangerous. Suddenly, you felt too exposed to the room. Your hands meekly moved to try and cover your nakedness from the room, while Jungkook remained on his knees above you. His buckle loose at his waist and upper body bare. 

He seemed to be deciding whether to do as he was asked or tell them to fuck off. You’d learned, however, that while Jungkook was no doubt the unhinged part of Namjoon’s crew, he was loyal. You didn’t think he would deny a request from his leader, even for you. 

He let out a heavy sigh as he removed himself from the cot, his legs bending down slightly so he could scoop up his shirt and put it back on. 

“Tell him we’ll be there in five minutes.”

 While he didn’t sound happy about it, Jungkook was still going to be a good boy and do as he was told. 

“Namjoon asked for you to hurry-“ 

“Fuck off!” Jungkook snapped. A booted foot slammed against the metal of the door making everything grow still with fear. “I said it’ll be five minutes. Now go.” 

The sound of retreating feet filled the hall outside before Jungkook had even finished telling him to leave. Smart man. You swung your legs over the side of the cot and moved to start picking up your clothes when hands on your waist pushed you back against the wall. 

You looked up just in time to watch Jungkook fall to his knees between your legs. His hands grasping your left thigh to raise it up onto his shoulder. The angle left him closer to the mound of your sex. 

“Jungkook, what are you doing? You told them we’d be there in five minutes.”

The devilish smirk you knew all too well tilted the corner of his lips. The lust that was stripped away seconds ago coming back as his tongue lazy stroked between your folds coaxing a gasp to leave you. 

“I only need a couple to make you come.” 

Jungkook always was a man of his word. 

You walked down the hallways beside Jungkook as he led you through the large building. Wherever it was The Devils’ called home, it was a renovated industrial building. Maybe once upon a time, it had housed machinery of some kind to build cars or maybe make some sort of sweet treat that eventually closed down. Whatever the building was used for originally, it had been refurbished to house evil.

The cold original metal and brick of the interior has been kept with only a few choices of artwork, drapes around the windows, and furniture giving it a sense of life. To you, no matter what anyone tried to place in the building, it would still feel uninviting. 

Jungkook instructed you to follow him as he turned left at the next four way intersection of the building. His hand on your arm gently pulled you along and kept you close to him all at the same time. 

“When we get in there don’t speak unless he instructs you to speak.”

“I’ll speak when I want too,” you snapped, hating the idea of being good for any of them. 

Jungkook sent you a glaring look of warning as came to a set of double doors. 

“Don’t be stupid, Kitten. The only reason you’re still alive is because of me.”

“And should I be grateful for that?” You wanted to pull your arm out of his grip, but it felt silly to do that when you’d just come all over his tongue. 

Jungkook appeared to be having the same thought. 

“Yes. You should.”

That was all the reply Jungkook bothered to give you as he pushed open the door and ushered you inside. This room, whatever it had been, was more updated than what you’d previously seen. The walls were painted a warm tone and carpet was put in. Off to the counter was a large bar that had an actual bartender stuck behind the empty counter with a slew of couches placed like a large C inside the middle. 

Inside that large C is where your eyes found Namjoon. His body positioned in the center of the C and sitting patiently. The second the two of you entered his eyes were on you. The judgment in them was heavy and something that he wasn’t afraid to show. 

Namjoon didn’t seem to like you very much. Well, the feeling was mutual. Jungkook stopped you in the middle and released the grip he’d held on your arm. He moved away from you to go and stand off to the left of Namjoon with Yoongi being at his right. 

You hated being left there like some kind of fucked up prize. It wasn’t just the three of them and a bartender. No, scattered around the back of the lounge stood more lackey’s, the unimportant ones that were used as fodder when shit got heavy were scattered all around. Most of them wear shit eating grins as if your presence in their bad guy lair was just the funniest damn thing. 

You’d see who’d have the last laugh. 

“Welcome, Detective,” Namjoon’s voice boomed inside the room. His arms swept over the area as he attempted to smile in what he must have thought was a greeting. It looked more like a grimace. “I do hope you’ve been enjoying your stay here.” 

You considered him coolly as you thought of how to reply. Jungkook had instructed you to speak when spoken too; to play nice. You always did have an issue with doing what you were told. 

“Actually, it’s been shit,” you started with a shrug. “I’m just waiting to get out of here.”

“And why is that?”

Namjoon seemed to know why. He didn’t need to truly ask you. He was only doing it because he wanted to see if you’d have the guts to say it out loud. 

“You aren’t dumb. None of you are, and I’m willing to bet you all know exactly what I’m going to do when I’m out of here.”

“Kitten.”

One word. Jungkook spoke your pet name as a warning. His face and body had grown stiff as he took a cautious step towards you. Namjoon held up a hand to stop him, waving him back to stand in his spot. Jungkook didn’t like it. It was made apparent by the ticking of his jaw as he continued to watch. 

“No, no Jungkook let her speak. You think you are going to put us away?”

“Oh, I know I can.” You retorted, allowing yourself your own sickly sweet smile. “I won’t stop until I place every single one of you where you deserve.” 

“That's a noble little quest you’ve given yourself, but you’ve got your ideas of who’s good and who's bad backwards, I’m afraid.”

A snort of laughter left you. The disbelief evident on your face as you regarded the men around you. These men who had slaughtered droves of people; families even. Men who had tried to come forward to atone for the crimes they had committed, their conscience finally taking hold, only for you to find the entire home missing or dead. Hospital staff who had been gunned down along with rival gang leaders who’d been inside. 

The terror these men had caused and all for the name of what? Infamy? Power? Money? All the things that didn’t mean shit when you were six feet under. The thing that disgusted you the most wasn’t these men and their atrocities, but your own. 

The very man who was responsible for so much of that carnage had just been buried nose deep between your legs, and you’d let him. All the fight you’d claimed to have - the moral standing - completely went away when he touched you. Where was your resolve then? Where was your belief in Justice for those victims when his hands were digging into your hips and his cock buried inside you? 

Nowhere. 

Looking at him now you knew a part of you hated Jungkook, but the person you really hated was yourself. 

With your eyes roaming back to face down Namjoon, you square your shoulders and make sure your resolve shown through as you speak your next words.  

“I’ve seen your handiwork, and I know what kind of men you are. I meant what I said. I’m going to find a way out of here and when I do, I promise you until my very last breath, I will hunt you down and put you fucking animals where you belong.” 

You hadn’t realized you were shaking - that you’d taken a step towards him until Jungkook and Yoongi took a step with you. Good. Let them know you meant every word. That they weren’t the only boogeymen meant to be feared. 

Namjoon sat forward, his arms resting on his thighs, as he regarded you with a calculating eye. No longer did he think you were trying to talk tough because of your situation. Now, you were positive, he knew you meant every word and that maybe he should proceed with caution. 

“You’d lock up Jungkook, as well?”

He was testing you. Maybe it was a test meant to show Jungkook he shouldn’t have grown soft for you. That you didn’t care for him the way he did you. 

You wished that was the truth but, unfortunately, it was far from it. Maybe that’s why when you turn to look in Jungkook’s direction you will yourself to look callous; completely disregarding what resembled hurt that was scrunching across his brow. 

“All of you deserve to be in cages. No exceptions.” 

“We’ll, I guess we better make sure to keep you locked inside one yourself.” 

You knew that voice. 

Your back went rigid as your mind raced at the recognition of that voice. A part of you didn’t want to turn - to see - the betrayal you felt coming towards you like a speeding train. Unfortunately, this was something you couldn’t run from. 

Turning your head to your right, you watched as your Chief came into view. A smug smile showing all of his pearly white teeth like the Cheshire Cat who’d stumped you at your own riddle. The shitty part about that was that he had. 

You’d always suspected that The Devils’ had some form of inside help. Most gangs were good, but no one rivaled The Devils’ when it came to the amount of intel they seemed to have. When witness protection magically lost informants, or informants were found out while undercover. Good seasoned Detectives who had been doing this for years miraculously were caught with their body parts being dumped in front of the police station with rats festering inside the bags. 

At first, you thought it had been you. That these men and women had paid with their lives all because of some costly fling. The endless guilt of racking your brain wondering what you’d left out; let slip while grocery shopping or relaxing with him on the couch. 

And all along it had been Chief Ebert. 

“You fuckin’ traitor!” You snarled. 

Seconds later, your closed fist collided with his nose and a spurt of blood erupted like a spout. A sharp cry of pain filled the room as you launched yourself at him, but found arms securing themselves at your waist and pulling away. The fast movement off to your left let you know it wasn’t Jungkook who had grabbed you, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he didn’t like it one bit. 

“Jungkook - stay where you’re at,” Namjoon ordered. “Hyujin, restrain her.”

“I’d like to see you fucking try!”

You felt murderous. Your heart pounded like war drums inside your chest. In a matter of a day, two days, the amount of betrayal you’d experienced left your world spinning. With an even bigger question of, “Who could be trusted?” raging inside of your head. 

“You fucking bitch!” Chief Ebert muttered out. His fingers sloppily trying to stop the blood from running out. “I always knew you were psychotic.”

“That’s rich coming from a treacherous weasel,” you snapped back. “How much did you sell your honor for, huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” he huffed. “Like you have any room to talk. When I requested for Jungkook to follow you to make sure he kept you off leads on investigations, I never would have thought it would’ve been that easy for him to fucking get to you.”

Another flash of red filtered over your vision. With a snarl you lashed out with your foot with your boot connecting with his chest shoving him down. 

“That is enough!” Namjoon’s voice boomed over the room. “Hyujin, take her back to her cell. Ebert get the hell up so we can get this over with.” 

You were still struggling as the lackey in question, Hyujin, walked you back down the long stretches of hallway Jungkook had just led you down. 

Did Ebert say he requested Jungkook to follow you? So, that night at the bar…Jungkook knew exactly who you were. He knew everything about you, because Ebert told Namjoon who had told him. 

Your mind tried to make sense of the carousel of deceit you kept finding yourself in. It struggled to find footing - on a course of action - but at the end of every idea the uncertainty of who could you trust came slamming home into your chest. Hyujin almost had you back to your cell when you finally made up your mind. While you weren’t sure who you could trust, you knew one thing - you could trust yourself. With your mind made up you took in a breath preparing for your next move. 

It was now or never. 

You let out a small scream as you slammed the heel of your foot down on top of the  guard's foot. When he bent down in predictable fashion, you brought your elbow up to crash against his face. It gave you just enough momentum to grab the m16 that was strapped around his neck, to grab at the strap, and move behind him, pulling it tight across his throat. 

It takes longer in real-life to choke someone into unconsciousness, even longer if you’re trying to kill them. Lucky for this guy you only meant to only do the first. When Hyujin finally stopped struggling, you removed the strap from around his throat, completely removing the gun from his body. You put the strap over your shoulder and went to work looking for keys. 

You found a walkie talkie and earbud and quickly put it on. While you didn’t plan on staying long enough to actually use it, it would come in handy as you tried to make your escape. 

After locating the keys, you plugged in the earbud and secured the radio to the back of your pants. With the gun held tightly in your hands, you started making your way back up the hallway in search of an exit. It was time to start your escape. 

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